Page 45 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“You’d better hope she doesn’t set her sights on you in earnest!” Kit warned, shaking his head. “Or you’ll be for it!”

“She’s betrothed now,” Cuthbert announced, surprising everyone greatly.

“Is she?” demanded Snub Nose. “First I’ve heard of it and she’s my second cousin! To whom?”

Cuthbert squinted his eyes. “Some long-standing friend of the family, I think. Name begins with a J. Jacomb?” he suggested uncertainly.

“Is it Jacobson?” Hal asked excitedly.

Cuthbert’s shoulders relaxed. “Yes, that is it.”

Hal whistled. “Good for her.”

“Henry Jacobson?” Snub Nose looked stunned. “Fancy his offering for her! I know that’s what her mother and sisters were praying for, but I thought it a vain hope, truth to tell!”

“You’ve been cut out, Payne!” Cosgrave guffawed. “I doubt you’ll get your tour of Areley Kings next year!”

“I disagree,” Hal said complacently. “For all she may be married, I’ll wager she still stands my friend. We shared a perfect summer’s afternoon. One does not forget such a thing and one should not.”

The other boys looked flummoxed by such a sentiment. Fortunately, a second wave of servants appeared bearing large platters of sliced gammon and eggs poached in milk and topped with cheese. The boys cheered, and pulling their knives from their belts, they fell upon the platters, dragging the meat onto their plates with wild, uncouth enthusiasm.

He had almost forgotten what it was like to be a squire, James mused as he watched the food disappear with astonishing rapidity. A few tidbits made their way into Hal’s tunic from which a small snout and a pair of bright, shiny eyes protruded, but the rest was consumed as by a pack of slavering wolves.

Cuthbert nudged the eggs closer to James, who made haste to help himself before the platter was seized and dragged to the opposite end of the table. “You have to be quick,” Cuthbert warned. “Or you’ll end up with an empty belly, else.”

“So I see” was James’s rejoinder.

Though his own master had been no tourney-goer, they had attended the high feasts well enough, so he knew what a scrimmage it could be. Such occasions though had been far from the norm in his own training. He fancied it must be rather different for squires who followed the tournament circuit.

“Do you enjoy being squire, Ames?” he asked Cuthbert impulsively.

Cuthbert shrugged. “I do, in the main. It has both good and bad sides, like most things in life.”

A scuffle had broken out on the far side of the hall. A table overturned with a crash of a splintering of broken vessels. The boys all jumped up onto their feet, craning to see the parties involved. Hadrian leaped up onto the bench to get a bird’s-eye view. “It’s Peterson,” he announced excitedly. “He’s got Bauer in a headlock!” Hal whooped and all the boys left their empty trenchers to fly across the hall to form a large, noisy circle around the combatants.

James sighed. At least during the royal summer and autumn tournaments they had reinforcements of the royal guards to keep participants in check. These Squires’ Revels seemed entirely unsupervised. If present company was a true representation, then most of them had not even been accompanied by their mentor knights into the capital.

Glancing around the hall, he could see precious few figures of authority, just a lot of bewildered and distressed courtiers. Getting to his feet with some reluctance, James started in the direction of the scuffle.

14

Gunnilde gazed around the room in bemusement. She had returned to their rooms in quiet triumph after spending her day basking in the Queen’s approval, only to find all the menfolk of her family cluttering up the sitting room and covered in cuts and bruises.

“And then Wycliffe seized hold of Bauer by the scruff of his neck and dragged him off Peterson,” Hal explained.

Gunnilde shot an astonished look at Neville, who was sat next to Hal and listening with an avid attention. She would never have dreamed he was so keen on fighting! At least his nice clothes weren’t ripped or disordered like the others.

“Shook him like a dog with a rat,” Kit interceded with satisfaction. “Then shoved him to one side and turned his attention to Bauer—”

“Who had practically jumped onto his back by this point,” Cuthbert interrupted.

“Naturally, I could not let that insult to my family pass,” Hal said with a modest cough. “So, I entered the fray at this point to knock some sense into Peterson.”

“Unfortunately, his cousin Sorenson took exception to that,” Kit put in. “So, he and his cronies all jumped on Hal—”

“So, we had to enter the fray,” Cuthbert finished reasonably. “You see, it all makes perfect sense when you simply consider the facts.”

Gunnilde’s gaze swept over them with gathering disapproval. Hal was sporting a bloody nose, Cuthbert a fat lip, and Kit a bleeding cut upon his brow.