Page 107 of A Most Forgettable Girl

She sat there, dazed, as his music still rang in her ears. To think that she had imagined she could ever be a useful wife to James, well-placed to promote and encourage him. She had known nothing about the qualities a wife of his ought to possess. Nothing at all.

36

Five Days Later

“I don’t mean to overstep but is everything well with my sister?” Hal asked. James paused in the act of removing his cloak. “Only she’s been quiet these past few days and it’s not just me that’s noticed it,” Hal continued. “Your brother agrees with me, isn’t that right, Neville?” He shot a look at James’s brother, who was seated opposite him petting the little dog, Dustin.

Neville cleared his throat. “Yes,” he agreed. “She seems...subdued. Not her usual self at all.”

James glanced about the room to check if any more of his brother-in-law’s friends were lurking hereabouts. They had not been around so much lately as their duties with the young prince took up a lot of their free time. Mercifully, it seemed it was just family tonight.

“She’s been damnably busy of late,” James reminded them both, coming into the room. “And so have I. This wretched banquet has been taking up all her time. The cooks, the tailors, the decorations, the borrowing of the silver plate,” he listed. “There’s a lot to organize and rather more to these affairs than you would think.”

“Yes, but you would think she would enjoy that,” Hal said critically. “She always liked it when we held feasts at Payne Manor. There she would be bustling about, fetching and carrying, bright-eyed and joyful but here...”

“Here, what?” James asked with a frown, throwing his cloak over the back of a chair and pouring himself a goblet of ale.

“Here she goes about all pale of cheek, eyes downcast, brooding, and when she does talk it’s in fits and starts. It’s not like her, I tell you. Something’s amiss.”

James took a swig of his ale while he considered his answer. In truth, he had noticed Gunnilde’s change in behavior himself and had asked several times if anything ailed her. All she ever did was assure him that naught was wrong, nothing at all.

She certainly had not been rejecting his advances in the bedchamber. There, she was as enthusiastic as ever. He should not have taken that for assurance, however. That had been remiss of him. Most remiss. He threw himself down on the bench next to Neville.

“Steady on, you’ll startle Dustin!” his brother reproached him. Sure enough the dog let out a shrill little bark. “He’s a great oaf, isn’t he, boy?”

James murmured his apologies and reached across to scratch behind Dustin’s overlarge ears. “I have spoken to Gunnilde as a matter of fact. She tells me she is simply much occupied. As well as everything else, she’s still working hard to ingratiate herself with the Queen and her fellow ladies, do not forget.”

“Aye, but is she?” Hal demanded at once. “From what I’ve heard, she’s been running around court with those two mousey friends of hers of late and attending dry old lectures like she’s a regular outcast instead of one of the Queen’s favorites!”

“Lectures?” James echoed, sitting up. What mousey friends? “But why?”

“Hanged if I know! Patience tells me they’ve scarcely seen her in the Queen’s chambers this past week!”

“Scarcely seen her?” James echoed. “But she goes along there every day!”

The other two looked uncomfortable. “Well,” Hal responded lamely, “possibly she shows her face, then ducks out soon after. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Possibly Mistress Rheinholdt exaggerates,” Neville put in hurriedly. “I daresay Gunnilde divides her time between the Queen and her new friends quite equitably, ’tis only that she has divided loyalties of late.”

James put down his drink. “If they are the ones I am thinking of,” he said slowly, “then they are not new friends at all. Quite the opposite.”

Hal and Neville exchanged looks. “What d’ye mean?” Hal demanded.

“Well, when your sister first came to court last September she spent all her time with Lady Harriet Portstanley and her scholarly friends. Countess Vawdrey introduced her to their circle.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound like Gunnilde’s sort of thing at all,” Hal said dismissively. “No wonder she moved on.”

“No, it did not suit her,” James agreed. Gunnilde had said something at one point about intending to stand a good friend to Harriet. Could this all be part and parcel of that endeavor? Surely, though, she would not prioritize such a thing over her own personal ambition?

“She has not mentioned any change in her friendships recently? Any quarrels?” Neville queried.

James shifted uneasily in his seat. “Truth be told, she has no close friendships among the Queen’s ladies. They have not exactly welcomed her with open arms.”

“Well, my friend Emma Thackeray—” Hal began only to be cut off by Neville.

“It is the curse of being a royal favorite,” James’s brother opined. “Neither Eden Montmayne nor Jane Cecil was exactly overburdened with close personal acquaintance when they occupied that position, and Mistress Bartree assuredly is not!”

The door opened at that moment and Gunnilde entered carrying a small pile of books. “Evening all,” she greeted them, closing it behind her. James scrutinized her face keenly, but she gave nothing away, smiling politely all round and making her way into the room.