Page 34 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“Undressed?” Gunnilde asked with some asperity. “Because we were abed, why else?” A chuckle drifted over James’s shoulder, and Gunnilde realized Hal was accompanied. “Cuthbert?” she called out excitedly. “Kit? Is that you?”

“Aye, it’s us, Gunnilde,” Cuthbert called back, his blond head appearing over James’s shoulder. He gave her a grin. “How are you?”

“In need of rescue?” Kit enquired, peering over her husband’s other shoulder, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

“Naturally, I brought reinforcements,” her brother said impatiently. “In case I needed to carry you off, slung across my pommel.”

“Slung across your—?” Gunnilde gave her head a quick shake, then looked across at James, who was still blocking the doorway. In truth, he looked a little disheveled and was likely not making the greatest impression.

As though noticing the direction of her gaze, James glanced down and adjusted his bedsheet to make sure he was adequately covered. “You had better come in,” he said resignedly and stood as Hal’s two best friends sauntered into the room, looking about them with interest.

“Lot of good you both are!” Hal grumbled. “Waiting to be invited! I told you we were storming the place.”

Kit flopped down into a chair. “Have a heart, Payne. We’ve been on horseback all day long. Even invading armies get fed and watered before they lay siege. You got anything to eat, Hinchliffe?” he said looking at James. “We’re half-starved.”

“That’s not right, it’s not Hinchliffe,” Cuthbert said with a frown. He crossed to the table and examined the leavings on their abandoned dinner platter. Bennett never had reappeared to clear it away. “I told you,” he said, selecting a chicken leg and taking a bite. “It was white cliffs I dreamed of. That’s your name, isn’t it?” he said, pointing toward James with his drumstick. “Whitecliff.”

“Actually—” James started to correct him, but Kit gave an indignant yell and bounced up out of his chair, flying across the room to shove Cuthbert out of the way. He hovered over the abandoned meat like a carrion crow. “Trust you to secure the meatiest bone, Ames, you greedy dog!” Kit grumbled.

Cuthbert rolled his eyes, tossed down the stripped bone, and reached for another, only to get his hand slapped away.

“You’ve had more than your share!” Kit snapped.

Seeing Hal remain at her side, Gunnilde deduced uneasily he must really be upset. Usually, Hal’s stomach and the appeasing of it was his uppermost concern.

“It’s Wycliffe actually,” James said loudly, directing the words at Hal. “James Wycliffe. You, I take it, are my new brother-in-law.”

“That remains to be seen,” Hal replied belligerently, turning to look at his sister. “How in the hells could you end up married without Father or me there to give you away?” he burst out indignantly. “It just doesn’t seem lawful to my mind.”

Seeing the injury in his eyes, Gunnilde patted his arm again. “If you will just be seated, brother, and allow us to extend you our hospitality, we can soon clear up this misunderstanding.” She shot a significant look at James, who sighed and walked over to check the contents of the ale jug.

It must have been empty for he promptly turned and walked out of the door with it, still barefoot and clad in only his bedsheet. Was he really going to walk across the corridor in search of Bennett, half-dressed like that? It seemed strangely out of character for this husband of hers.

She turned back to the others to find them watching her with keen interest. “Who is he anyway?” Kit asked, his mouth half full. “These rooms are smaller than my uncle’s, so he’s not an earl.”

“No title?” Hal asked, sucking in a breath and pursing his lips. “That’s bad.”

“Not until his father dies. Then he will be third Baron Wycliffe.”

“I saw his crest,” Cuthbert volunteered, and instantly Gunnilde knew he meant in a dream.

“Could you tell it was a unicorn?” she asked. “Only I mistook it for a goat.” She glanced down at her bedsheet before realizing that James wore the embroidered one this time.

“Yes, for unicorns have an affinity with virgins, do they not?” Cuthbert replied absently.

Gunnilde started but luckily Hal and Kit were used to ignoring the stranger of his utterings. Was he saying that James...?

“What the devil is all this row about?” Neville complained, trailing into the room, clutching his robe shut. “It is past midnight, and you might show me some consideration for I’ve the beginnings of one of my sore throats...”

“Ah, Neville, I do apologize. This is my brother, Hal Payne, and these are Cuthbert Ames and Kit Montmayne, his closest friends,” Gunnilde explained. “They have just arrived at court for the Solstice celebrations. Learning of my recent marriage, they rushed at once to, well, to wish us all well,” she concluded optimistically.

“Ah,” Neville responded awkwardly.

“Boys,” she began brightly, though in point of fact, she was not sure she should address them as such anymore. They were no longer sweet little pages running around in short hose. All three of them must be around sixteen years old and took up a good deal more room than they ever used to. Still, she had started now, so she would finish. “This is Sir Neville Wycliffe, younger brother to my husband.”

All three looked Neville up and down critically. Hal folded his arms. “Sir Neville, is it?” he asked skeptically. “You look a bit young to be knighted. Why, there’s nary a hair on your chin!”

“I am fully two and twenty,” Neville protested.