Page 143 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“I see a good prospect this morning for Your Highness,” James said loudly, covering her tactlessness. “Sir Renlow d’Avenant is scheduled to compete shortly. He is certainly worth watching and has no small fame attached to his name. You have heard perhaps of his reputation?”

Prince Raedan considered this. “Ah, Sir Renlow, my father says he leads a charmed life,” he answered at last. “Is there not some tale of his walking away unscathed from a night spent in the company of murderers and thieves?”

“Sir Renlow is plucky as a gamecock, but he’ll surely struggle against this company,” said Neville, frowning. “Why, he’s only half the size of Twyford or Kentigern!”

“Only physically,” James responded. He had recently become much interested in his old acquaintance Renlow’s progress through the lists, and Gunnilde had been happy to tell him all she knew.

“What other way, pray tell, is there in which to measure a man?” the prince asked, looking intrigued.

James hesitated, but Cuthbert came to his rescue. “You can measure a man in spirit, sire, and in his heart,” he said with quiet conviction. “If Renlow is competing, then you may be sure he will give his all to any tournament, big or small. Moreover, he knows no fear, no doubts, and no hesitation. That is an opponent you should never take lightly. On the right day, he has beaten every knight in the kingdom.”

Prince Raedan frowned. “Even Vawdrey?”

“Even the King’s champion.”

“Even Kentigern?”

“Name any knight of the realm, my prince,” Cuthbert offered with a smile. “My answer remains the same.”

Hal frowned. “On the right day, ’tis true,” he conceded. “But overall...” His words trailed off as he noticed the prince sitting up straight.

“They call my father the lion of all Karadok,” Prince Raedan said, and there was an uncomfortable stirring in the stand, for Wymer was certainly not a large man. Cuthbert looked pointedly at James, as if prompting him to speak again.

“They do, Your Highness,” James agreed. “And with good reason. Your father is fierce in battle and a formidable foe. Moreover, he is a good judge of men. He puts his faith in the best and does not flinch from hard decisions.”

Raedan nodded, clearly not displeased by this description. He looked out over the field in quiet contemplation. After a moment he said quietly, “I should like to meet Sir Renlow d’Avenant.”

“That can certainly be arranged, Highness,” Gunnilde said, giving her father a significant look. “Sir Renlow will be attending tonight’s feast. We can have him seated at the high table with us.”

“You have my gratitude, Lady Wycliffe,” Prince Raedan said, and relaxed again.

Gunnilde’s father passed a hand over his sweaty brow. “I can look to you to arrange this thing, daughter?” he asked hoarsely. She could see he was already panicking about whereabouts on the table this new addition should be placed.

“Of course, Father, do not worry yourself. It can be most easily arranged.”

“So...Sir Renlow dines with princes as well as thieves and murderers,” James murmured under his breath. He had a faraway look in his eye that Gunnilde had come to know well.

“You’re going to write a piece of music about him, aren’t you?” she whispered excitedly, squeezing his arm.

“Perhaps,” James muttered, but Gunnilde could already tell it would be so.

“And you can name it after his family motto,” she said with satisfaction. “If I breathe, then I strive. I expect the King will like it very much.”

Funnily enough, she and James had lately become great favorites of the King, more so than the Queen. They were often sat with Earl and Countess Vawdrey at functions to denote this fact and seated on the King’s half of the table.

Since Gunnilde had accepted her place among the rank and file of the Queen’s ladies, she had found herself becoming fast friends with Emma Thackeray, a country-bred girl like herself, and Patience Stanhope, whose position as Hal’s beloved had been as short-lived as all the others.

Now Gunnilde was no longer vying for top spot with Mistress Bartree, that lady, too, had softened toward her and showed her a consideration she did not afford the other ladies-in-waiting. Gunnilde was now permitted to fold the Queen’s underclothes on occasion and even tidy them away.

Hal had fallen in love with practically every lady-in-waiting in the palace by the time the Solstice celebrations were over, and he had left court to resume his duties as a squire. Fortunately, he seemed to remain on friendly terms with all of them, and at the award ceremony for the Squires’ Revels, he had been afforded the loudest cheer. At the subsequent feast, he had been proudly accompanied by the elderly Ashdown sisters, one on each arm.

Neville and Harriet had become betrothed in the spring with very little interference from Gunnilde. It was true, she had needed to pave the way with Lady Portstanley a little, and she had achieved this by inviting her to supper parties with the likes of Earl and Countess Vawdrey and Lord and Lady Schaeffer to show off their superior connections.

In truth, she and Lady Schaeffer had bonded over their mutual love of fashion, and they now vied with one another to obtain the tallest steeple hennins and the most elaborate veils at court. Whenever Gunnilde triumphed, Hester Schaeffer pouted and declared it was because she was “thick as thieves with that wicked creature Bardulf and privy to the latest news from overseas.”

James had so far written two of the pieces the Queen had requested. One about the de Crecys called “Undone by Love’s Cruel Arrow” and one inspired by an incident concerning the Kentigerns called “The Spurning of Love and Beauty.” The Queen had been highly delighted with both, though the subjects of the music had seemed rather less thrilled.

Strange to say, Lady de Crecy had been more offended than Sir Jeffree, declaring it “a great impertinence.” When it had proved a huge success at court, the de Crecys had finally consented to attend a performance and Sir Jeffree had wound up liking it so much he had paid for Masters Billingsley and Chamberlain to travel all the way to Ganfordshire and perform it at his uncle’s prestigious seat, Ganford Chase.