Page 66 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“I had heard he married a rich merchant’s daughter,” Gunnilde observed, “but he did not bring her to Tranton Vale this year. We were all quite disappointed. I wonder what she is like.”

“She seemed a modest, quiet sort of woman to me,” James replied, hoping this description was sufficient. “Not remotely tall or sad,” he added, making her smile.

“They sound well matched, then,” she said, her tone strangely wistful. What did she mean by that? Before he could ask— “She must have made quite an impression on you,” she marveled. “For you to have remembered her. Why, you scarcely remember anyone!”

James cleared his throat. “She and her sister stayed at Wycliffe Hall for a month or so before either one of their marriages,” he admitted reluctantly. “Her father paid my mother a handsome sum to introduce them about the county.”

Gunnilde’s eyes widened. “So then, you know her sister too? The sister who married Lord Kentigern and is a very famous beauty.”

“I would not say I know them, either one,” James answered with a shrug. “I am slightly acquainted with both ladies only.”

“And was not Lady Kentigern very lovely?”

“I do not remember.”

“Really?” Gunnilde sounded incredulous. “She has raven locks and the most radiant complexion you ever beheld. A lovely singing voice too. I have been fortunate enough to meet her above twice now, for you know her husband brought her to my father’s house in much style and ceremony last May.”

“And what does that entail exactly?” James asked.

“Well, she wore her husband’s colors most boldly and unfurled his banner in the stands to sit beneath on all three days. Instead of staying under my father’s roof, Lord Kentigern brought his own pavilion to stay on the grounds. It was all emblazoned with his crest and very flaunting. Everyone was most surprised for before times, he had slunk into Payne Manor as surly as a bear with a sore head, and would glare at anyone who looked too long in his direction. Why, you were lucky to get three words out of him altogether!”

They had reached the end of the street now and turned left. “Yet this time, he was different,” James guessed.

“Yes!” Gunnilde agreed. “Quite, quite different! We all agreed he had never been so agreeable. He made sure to have some conversation with his hosts, and then you know, he introduced Lady Kentigern to all and sundry and made a great show of it. She told me I could call her Aimee,” Gunnilde added with shy pride. “I had hoped I would see her here at court, but apparently they never come to Aphrany, for they live chiefly in Caer Lyoness for all he is a northerner.” She turned her head to look at James.

“Were you not in Caer Lyoness for the summer tournament last year? There was a very famous incident where Lord Kentigern gave the tournament crown to another. Did you never hear tell of it? Oh, my heart broke for the lovely Aimee when I heard of it!”

James shook his head. “I do not frequent the tournaments,” he reminded her.

“Oh, sorry, I quite forgot that fact.”

He waved this aside. “What happened?” he prompted.

“When?”

“When Lord Kentigern awarded the tournament crown to another?”

“Well, they do say it quite enraged Sir Jeffree de Crecy, and everyone was expecting a huge scene to come of it, but my father says it was all just nonsense, for when they next met it was much the same as usual.”

“But why should it enrage de Crecy that Kentigern snubbed his own wife? Was he a former suitor of hers?”

“No, not at all! Sorry,” Gunnilde exclaimed, “I quite forgot to say, that Kentigern bestowed the crown upon de Crecy’s wife, who everyone said at the time he was holding in utter contempt for being some mousy obscure country woman, and not very beauteous at all. They say she trapped him into marriage, and he was sulking about it. Then Lord Kentigern raised Lady de Crecy higher than any lady present, shaming Sir Jeffree for hiding her away.”

“Well, I know that is not true,” James said, glad to have some knowledge of such affairs. “For this time last year, I saw Sir Jeffree kneel in supplication to his wife and beg her to return his love in full view of the court. He certainly was not holding her in contempt at that point and she did not look remotely mouselike.” Indeed, she had seemed quite a forceful personality in James’s opinion.

Gunnilde came to a standstill in the middle of the road, whipping around to face him. “You were not present for that?” she gasped, mouth falling open.

“I was.” And very bemused, too, by the strange turn of events.

“How could you not tell me? You must give me a firsthand account at once!” She was practically starry-eyed at the prospect. “Oh, how I envy you!” his wife breathed, clapping her gloved hands together.

James caught hold of one fast in his hand and tugged her along. “Keep moving,” he recommended. “The night air is brisk, and you will get cold.”

“I had heard of it, of course!” she continued happily, her words coming out in white puffs of air. “How Sir Jeffree gave public penance to his wife and begged for her forgiveness for the early days of their marriage. They do say he is almost most abjectly devoted to her now,” she said wistfully. “Would you say that is so? I have not had the opportunity to observe them together at close quarters,” she said with a hint of envy.

“That was certainly the impression I gained. He made a complete exhibition out of himself just to please her and did not seem to care at all.”

They had reached the main entrance to the King’s Arms by this point, and James towed Gunnilde in through the entrance.