Page 126 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“I cannot see Lady Portstanley here or her daughter,” Neville said in desultory tones, peering out of his hood. Gunnilde wondered if there was a reason he was avoiding saying Harriet’s name aloud. Her eyes met with James’s before she quickly looked away. She did not want him to think she was plotting and scheming love matches once again.

“Did they promise to attend?” James asked after a significant pause. “Only the Revels don’t really seem like their sort of thing at all.”

“They may have intimated as much, depending on the weather,” Neville replied with a casualness that did not seem entirely genuine. “I am surprised they find it too inclement to venture out. Despite the cold, it is a clear, bright day after all.”

“Harriet has something of a weak chest, I believe,” Gunnilde said. “If it is too cold, it can cause her to cough.”

Neville’s frown relaxed. “She is quite delicate,” he agreed. “Mayhap I will call on her after and let her know how the Revels went.”

Privately, Gunnilde did not think Harriet would care much who could throw a lance the furthest, but then she remembered her friend’s sparkling eyes as Neville had led her into the dance. She might appreciate his visit after all.

A buzzing and jostling started through the stands, and Gunnilde turned her head to see what was causing the commotion. To her surprise it was the arrival of the King, escorted by four of his King’s guard. Sir Symond was conspicuous in his absence. The King crossed to where Prince Raedan was seated under a royal canopy with Dustin sat in his lap. The King joined him there and more chairs were carried across to seat his retinue.

“Well, I never did see such a thing!” Neville exclaimed. “Have you ever known Wymer to attend the Squires’ Revels before?”

James shook his head. “This will be down to your brother,” he said, addressing Gunnilde.

“Do you really think so?”

He nodded. “Wymer arrives just as Hal’s best event is about to commence. It cannot be a coincidence.”

Neville coughed. “Actually, Hal is the heavy favorite for both the wrestling and the staff fighting,” he pointed out with pride. “Though he has some stiff competition today. Gordon Fairfax is a strong competitor.” Gunnilde hid her smile. The friendship of James’s brother with her own still pleased her and gave her hope that perhaps their families were not so very incompatible after all.

“Here they come now,” James announced, and Gunnilde leaned forward, laying one gloved hand on the wooden barrier before them. She would concentrate on the Revels and put all else from her mind for now.

42

“Of course, Constance always was a perfect fool.” Penelope Culmington’s words rang out, her voice carrying over the Great Hall.

It seemed to Gunnilde that everyone turned to look at their party as they stood on the threshold, flushed and triumphant from Hal’s win. Then the whispering started, rising up toward the rafters in a great swell.

She would have come to a complete standstill if not for James, who had swept her resolutely along with him to a nearby table.

“What’s to do now?” Kit whispered, clambering onto the bench opposite. “Why’s everyone agape?”

“It can’t just be my victory, can it?” Hal asked, glancing around. “No one’s even calling out their congratulations! What’s wrong with them all?”

“Simply everyone is staring!” Gunnilde muttered, reaching for bread roll to crumble between her nerveless fingers. Penelope’s words had sent a thrill of warning down her spine. Constance, she had said. Why had they been discussing Constance? Her glance at this point happened to fall on Cuthbert.

His unwavering gaze seemed to hold some message, unnerving her. “Cuthbert?” She faltered. “What is it?”

“You must take heart, my lady,” he said, and it sounded like a warning.

Gunnilde’s heart sank down to her flimsy slippers. “Why do you say that? Whatever do you mean?”

At this moment, Neville came hurrying across the hall toward them. He had left directly after the Revels to go and visit the Portstanleys instead of coming back to their rooms. He was out of breath and red-faced by the time he sank down on the bench next to Hal.

“You will never believe what has happened!” he uttered hoarsely. “Farleigh hath returned to court with the Lady Constance and they are seeking an annulment of their marriage!”

Gunnilde gasped. “But why?” she burst out in shock.

Neville leaned forward, lowering his voice. “No one knows for sure, but the rumor is they reached the lady’s estate with their union still unconsummated. Then, on arrival, her uncles persuaded her the marriage was naught but a mistake and dragged them back to court to make a formal appeal to the King.”

Gunnilde felt a pang for Sir Douglas. Really, it was too bad of Constance not to stand firm in the face of such opposition! But then, perhaps her uncles had bullied or browbeaten her into it. She hoped she was not in too much distress.

“What’s all this to do with us?” Hal asked, looking puzzled.

James cleared his throat. “Very little,” he said. “I was betrothed to Lady Constance at one point. She eloped with Sir Douglas, and I married your sister. Kindly pass the ale jug.”