Page 19 of A Most Forgettable Girl

James stood up. “I’ll go and see if I can find Bennett,” he said shortly. Neville looked across at her as though expecting her to refuse this offer. When Gunnilde simply thanked her new husband, his brother seemed rather surprised.

Really, though, Gunnilde could not at all see why. For all her new brother-in-law knew, Sir James might have kept her up all night with husbandly demands. She might be in dire need of sustenance! The door closed behind him and Neville Wycliffe settled back in his seat.

“So,” she began, “you are my new brother-in-law. We were introduced yesterday at the wedding.”

“We were,” he agreed cautiously. “Though I am flattered you remember amid all the excitement.”

Ignoring his wry tone, she asked, “You are my husband’s younger brother?”

“I am,” he repeated. “By some three years. I am but two and twenty.” So, he was the same age as her. He looked younger to Gunnilde’s eye but then he did not have his brother’s height, so his slim frame seemed a good deal more boyish. Her own brother, at sixteen, had a far more strapping build.

“You have been knighted?” she enquired politely, though in truth this was a given fact.

“I have.” He winced. “Though it was quite the ordeal and delayed twice due to my delicate constitution. Mercifully my mentor, Sir Raymond, was an understanding sort and not terribly warlike himself.”

“My brother is currently undertaking the training.”

“He has my sympathies.”

Gunnilde smiled. “Hal is a healthy, outdoor type. He loves horses and dogs and exercise, though not always the early mornings.”

“Ah, he is rather like you perhaps? Someone who embraces the chances life affords.”

Gunnilde’s surprised eyes flew to meet his. What exactly did he mean by that? Before she could ask, the door opened again, and James was back.

“Bennett is fetching some repast,” he said, sitting back down beside her. He turned to look at her and cleared his throat. “I have told him you are accustomed to eating at this hour,” he said. “Let me know if it slips his mind.”

Neville pulled a face. “And it will slip his mind,” he warned. “Our laundry is ever a source of contention. He lights our meagre fires twice a day and that is practically all he does.” Gunnilde’s eyebrows rose. It all sounded most dissatisfactory, but before she could comment as much, Neville rubbed his hands together.

“Now tell me, for my friends will be positively agog to hear the news. How is it that the two of you intend to spend your first day as newlyweds? I must have some small fillip of gossip to toss their way.”

James frowned. “Why, I mean to spend it as I usually do,” he answered. “How else? I have a long-standing engagement on the second Wednesday of every month.” He cast a look at the window and Gunnilde guessed this meeting was outside of the palace.

“Fie and tush! This is no ordinary second Wednesday of the month!” Neville objected. “Surely you do not mean to abandon my sister-in-law on her first day as a wedded wife? Such behavior would set tongues wagging, make no mistake.”

James glanced at her uneasily. “I am sure... Gunnilde,” he pronounced her name after the faintest of hesitations, “has plans of her own and is accustomed to her own routine.”

“Well, not really,” she replied apologetically. “For you see, today marks the start of a new era in my life.” Both brothers stared at her. “I am now a lady-in-waiting,” she reminded them, for ’twas plain they thought she attached too much importance to the role of wifehood.

“Ah, of course,” Neville replied, recovering first. “Though I am surprised the Queen expects your attendance on her today. Not very considerate of your wedded status, is she? Still, everyone knows the Queen is no lover of the institution of marriage.”

“Neville,” James said heavily. “Kindly guard that wayward tongue of yours.”

“Why should I?” his brother responded. “Not going to repeat any irreverent thing I say at large, are you...ah?” He paused uncertainly.

“Gunnilde,” she supplied with a ready smile. “And no, of course not, Sir Neville.”

“Just Neville will be fine,” he responded with the hint of an answering smile.

James opened his mouth but the door swinging open prevented him from speaking his thoughts.

“Got your victuals,” announced a thin, reedy voice, and a servant stepped over the threshold with a tray, which he set down with a thud. “I trust it is to your liking, sir.” Bennett’s tone was injured, as though he had been forced to perform some act against his will.

“I told you, it is for the lady,” James responded tetchily. He turned to Gunnilde. “Will this suffice?”

She looked down at the tray which held only two plates. One was piled high with buttered bread while the other held three wedges of cheese. Most likely all the cold meats had been grabbed first thing. “Amply, thank you,” she responded.

Bennett sniffed and retreated, with a reproachful look back over his shoulder. Gunnilde drew the plates toward herself. “Won’t you have some?” she asked politely.