Page 57 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“Well, my husband maintains I am the best wife and mother in all of Karadok,” she replied with a laugh. “But in truth the boys are not so very young now, ’tis only that I hate to leave them for too long, despite their excellent nurse. They both have a full head of teeth and black Vawdrey hair,” she said proudly. “And both are walking on two feet and even running if given the opportunity.”

“Already?” Gunnilde was all admiration. “Eden has told me what fine boys they are.”

“You must come and meet them,” Fenella insisted. “Indeed, you must come and dine with us one evening soon.”

“We would love to,” Gunnilde assured her at once.

Fenella’s face clouded over. “The only trouble of it is, fitting everything in. I am sure you have heard that we are all traveling to Vawdrey Keep for the Solstice and won’t be in town after the eleventh.”

“You must have a hundred and one things to organize before you travel to Sitchmarsh,” Gunnilde sympathized. “Instead, why do I not invite you and Lord Vawdrey to attend a banquet I am holding in two weeks’ time? It is to be held here in the palace on the night of the tenth.”

Fenella brightened. “That is so kind of you, Gunnilde,” she enthused. “And when we return from Sitchmarsh, I will make sure to invite you to our townhouse for supper.” She beamed. “And you will allow me to make it up to you that I was not here to ease your passage into court life, won’t you, Gunnilde?” She looked faintly anxious as she said this. “Indeed, you clearly did not need my help, for only look at you!”

Her eyes traveled over Gunnilde’s ensemble with admiration. “You are quite the fine court lady. I vow I have never been half so fashionable.” She eyed Gunnilde’s slit sleeves and hair arrangement with interest. “I had heard, of course, of the horned hairstyles but truth to tell I could not even picture them in my mind’s eye. I am very happy to finally know what all the fuss is about! Really, it looks most becoming. It is no wonder the Queen enjoys your company. She told me how you caught her eye from the outset.”

This was not really true, but Gunnilde was far too taken with this flattering revision of her court debut to deny it. “The Queen is too kind,” she murmured modestly, casting down her eyes.

“Yes, when the mood takes her,” Fenella agreed, glancing back at the dais. “Speaking of which, I had better return to her side before I give Mistress Bartree the chance to oust me from her affections altogether.” She pulled a droll face, then took her leave of them.

“Is she not lovely?” Gunnilde sighed, watching the countess cross the room.

“She seems a very pleasant woman.”

She frowned at this tepid response. “You surely would not describe her as ‘tall and sad.’”

“No,” James agreed. Gunnilde looked at him expectantly. “She is short and plump and merry,” he elaborated after a moment’s contemplation.

“And vastly elegant and distinguished,” she prompted.

“She seems quite refreshingly down to earth to me.”

“I meant her manner of dress.”

“Well...” His gaze returned to Fenella Vawdrey. “She is certainly wearing a lot of velvet and jewels, if that is what you mean.” Gunnilde sighed. “What I meant was,” he said, clearly trying to redeem himself, “she is not trying to start any new fashions. I have seen that style of dress anytime these past two years.”

“Yes, but when you have the best of everything you do not need to worry about standing out from the crowd,” she replied absently, her gaze sweeping the room to see if anyone was impressed by her tête-à-tête with Countess Vawdrey.

When she looked back at James, he was frowning. “I mean to buy you a new ring, Gunnilde,” he said surprisingly. “You can give that other back to Mistress Bartree.”

“Really? I suppose I ought,” she said, lifting her hand and twisting the gold band to look at the letters inscribed around it.

“Should you like an inscription of your own?” he asked abruptly.

“Do you know, I believe I would,” she answered, pleased by the thought.

“What should it be?”

“The most flowery and complimentary thing you can think of,” she answered at once.

“How about ‘To Gunnilde, who is neither tall nor sad’?” he suggested.

“It falls somewhat short of the mark,” she laughed. “Perhaps I should be content with our initials.”

“No.” He frowned. “I will ponder the matter. I am sure something suitable will occur to me.”

She smiled at him. “I look forward to it.”

At this point, Sir Edmund Pomfritt and Lord Symmington presented their bows. Sir Edmund subjected her hair arrangement to a good many hard stares, while Lord Symmington gave her the merest of dismissive glances before asking James if he intended to attend the poetry reading that afternoon in the small chamber. James glanced at her and opened his mouth when Gunnilde interjected quickly, “Yes, of course we will be there. I am so fond of poetry, as my husband knows.”