Page 56 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“I had the great pleasure of meeting your brother, Master Payne, yesterday,” she said airily. “A delightful young man and quite mature for his years, I thought.”

Good grief, Gunnilde thought, seeing the pink enter Estrilda’s cheeks. Was she blushing? Over Hal? “Oh...yes. He did mention your meeting and that you were kind enough to show an interest in Dustin.”

“Dustin?” Estrilda looked blank.

“His little dog.”

“Oh! Oh yes, of course! Dustin,” she said hastily. “Such a sweet little doggy.”

So...Gunnilde had been wrong. It had not been Dustin who had caught Estrilda’s fancy, but Hal himself. She slanted a disbelieving look at James, but he merely smirked back at her. “I told you,” he mouthed. Told her what? Oh yes, she remembered belatedly. He had claimed Hal was something of a lady’s favorite. How bizarre! She could scarcely credit it.

“I do hope he will remain at court for the Solstice celebrations,” Estrilda continued coyly.

“He will certainly be here until the Squires’ Revels which I believe are held on the twelfth of the month.”

Estrilda nodded. “How very interesting,” she said. “I have always wondered what they entailed precisely, for I have never had the opportunity to attend one.” She looked expectantly at her, and Gunnilde realized that Estrilda had not the first notion what the Squires’ Revels even were. She took pity on her.

“As you will no doubt have gathered, they are an opportunity for the squires to prove their worth by competing in various events to show their proficiency.”

The ladies stood beside Estrilda all perked up. “Pray, what sort of events, Lady Wycliffe?” enquired one. Gunnilde thought her name was Mistress Stanhope.

“Do not be so odiously forward, Patience!” Estrilda snapped at her. “I was just about to ask my friend the self-same thing!” She turned back expectantly to Gunnilde. Patience Stanhope took a step back, looking suitably chastened.

“Um, events such as wrestling and long jump,” Gunnilde replied. What else had the boys mentioned? She threw a look of appeal at James.

“Archery, swimming,” he listed in a bored voice. “The usual feats a squire must demonstrate before he is made a knight.”

“It all sounds quite exciting,” another lady twittered before Estrilda’s fierce glower subdued her.

“Yes, I am looking forward to seeing my brother compete,” Gunnilde agreed. “Perhaps we could watch the Revels together?” she suggested tentatively.

Estrilda was immediately wreathed in smiles. “That would be most agreeable, my dear Gunnilde,” she enthused. “I would be delighted! Quite delighted! I thank you for the invitation.” They curtseyed to one another and Estrilda moved on, followed by her little clique. She looked quite triumphant and threw a contemptuous gaze toward the larger group of ladies-in-waiting who were watching their interaction with aloof disapproval.

“What in heavens is happening?” Gunnilde asked James in a hushed voice.

“It appears that your brother has charmed Mistress Rheinholdt into befriending you,” he answered. “But the majority of the Queen’s ladies are still biding their time.”

“Oh, let them,” Gunnilde responded. “I have you to keep me company today in any case.” She squeezed his arm, and though James looked a little self-conscious, he did not pull away.

“The Queen arrives,” he said, clearing his throat, and turning her head, Gunnilde saw Her Majesty emerging from her private rooms, accompanied by two ladies this morning. One predictably was Magnatrude Bartree but the other was Countess Vawdrey, wife to the King’s chief adviser.

“’Tis Eden’s sister-in-law, Fenella!” Gunnilde hissed excitedly.

“Yes,” James agreed.

“She only seems to attend the formal functions by and large. I do not think I have seen her attending the Queen before.”

James frowned. “Was she not at the feast that followed our wedding?”

“I believe she was, but I did not get the chance to speak with her,” Gunnilde said wistfully. “She and Lord Vawdrey were sat with the King.”

The Queen and Magnatrude Bartree had mounted the dais by this point, but to Gunnilde’s surprise, Countess Vawdrey appeared to be making her way in their direction. Gunnilde glanced about to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity she might know. Turning back, she found herself the recipient of a very warm smile.

“Good morning to you both, Sir James and Lady Wycliffe,” Fenella Vawdrey hailed them, and bows and curtseys were exchanged all round. “I am so sorry not to have sought you out before. I have been most remiss in my attentions, I do hope you can forgive me.” She looked so sweetly earnest that Gunnilde practically fell over herself to assure her that she had not been neglectful in any way.

“Oh, but I have indeed,” she responded at once. “Eden wrote to me most particularly asking that I take an interest in you at court, Gunnilde, but you see, I was quite ill in September. Oh, nothing serious, I assure you, but such an unpleasant cough and I was not fit to be seen. And then of course, Nathan came down with it and then Stephen, my twin boys you know,” she explained, looking from Gunnilde to James and then back again. “I could not bear to leave them when they are still so little.”

“Oh, I quite understand!” Gunnilde hurried to assure her. “Your mothering instinct does you credit, I am sure.”