Page 144 of A Most Forgettable Girl

As for Lord Kentigern, he had turned quite purple with rage and looked set to cause an ugly scene until his wife had graciously declared herself charmed with the music. Baroness Kentigern claimed she had been quite jealous that her sister-in-law Mistress Bartree should have such a beautiful piece of music dedicated to her, and now she, too, had one, she was vastly content.

Gunnilde had been most impressed with the way she had handled her infuriated spouse. Shortly after, a grumpy Lord Kentigern had requested a private meeting with James. At this, he had demanded James write a companion piece called “The Acceptance of Love and Beauty,” which James had promised to do, finally mollifying the warlike Kentigern.

After this, James had lost his enthusiasm for completing the Queen’s collection, declaring they gave him nothing but headaches and strife in the aftermath. Instead, he had turned his attention to private commissions taking advantage of their popularity at court, for “who knew how long it would last.” Gunnilde did not find herself too worried about this, personally.

James’s private commissions had proved so lucrative that he had suggested they buy Master Gregory’s townhouse from him, so that the impoverished musician and his daughter might have access to some ready monies without having to worry about a roof over their heads for the foreseeable future.

This suggestion had gone down very well indeed, and Justina had insisted they had the largest of the bedrooms allocated for their use “whenever they might get sick of that palace” or have friends come to Aphrany and need a place for them to stay.

In addition to this, she and James intended to look for a summer place in Caer Lyoness so they could also escape from the summer court when the need arose. They made many plans for traveling around the countryside over wherever their fancy might take them.

They were finally visiting Wycliffe Hall in June after several months of frosty communications, where James had told his mother unequivocally that she held no sway over his marriage. After hearing various favorable reports from her acquaintances at court, including her niece Lady Gilchrist, his mother had started to thaw and write much friendlier missives.

Finally, she had enclosed a note to her daughter-in-law graciously welcoming her into the family and stating they looked forward to receiving her at Wycliffe Hall when court returned to Caer Lyoness. Gunnilde was not deceived but assured James she was more than equal to dealing with his mother on the occasions where they would meet.

“Fie! For shame!” bellowed an enthusiastic spectator from the crowd below.

“I do not think the crowd approves of Sir Maurice taking the win,” James observed wryly.

“Whoever beats him in the next round will receive a hero’s welcome,” Gunnilde predicted.

“Are any of your old friends the Conways here today?” James asked, placing a hand at her middle back. “I never thought to ask. Old neighbors of your father’s, aren’t they?”

“Only old Lady Conway now. She is coming to tonight’s feast, for Father said she hinted quite shamefully until he extended her an invite. She is quite desperate to see if you are as handsome as her daughter described you, or at least that is what Bess says.”

“Thought me handsome, did she?” James asked mildly.

“Of course! Muriel has eyes in her head, whatever else her shortcomings.”

“Well, so long as I do not need to guard you against Sir Arthur, I will make no complaint to his mother ogling me.”

Gunnilde laughed. “She probably will stare but you must be used to such things by now. And when we get back to court, we must look into getting your portrait done, James.”

“Why, so it can be hung in the long gallery and everyone else can ogle me?” He did not sound amused.

“It is only fitting that you should have one,” she responded sternly. “Now you are officially appointed as royal musician, I mean. Besides, you once promised me a miniature, and it is practically the same thing.”

“I’m not having one done unless you do too,” he responded immediately. “One for my own personal enjoyment.”

“Oh, yes?”

“You must be horned for it and wearing a flaunting gown,” he said with relish. “Perhaps a new one with lots of slashes and open sides. I see it quite clearly in my mind’s eye.” His hand slid up and down her back.

The crowd cheered and Gunnilde realized two new combatants had entered the field, but she could not bring herself to look away from her husband’s warm gaze. She cleared her throat. “Now you are just trying to bribe me, husband, for you know I never can resist a new gown.”

“I do like buying you gowns,” he admitted.

“And new shoes. And new stockings. In fact, everything you led me to expect from a frugal husband turned out to be entirely false,” she pointed out lightly.

He smiled. “Oh, I am not remotely sensible where you are concerned, wife. Now bestow on me a kiss. It would be a kindness.”

Gunnilde leaned forward and planted an obliging kiss to his lips before drawing swiftly back. James still looked so startled whenever she did such things, it never failed to make her laugh.

“I expected to have to convince you,” he protested when she succumbed to mirth.

“You should know by now that I am never reluctant to kiss you. Did I not boldly kiss you at our wedding feast, immediately securing your love?”

“You did,” he agreed in a low voice. “But do not try to evade me now, come close again.”