Page 134 of A Most Forgettable Girl

Gunnilde could not believe how shamelessly James was acting. His usual reserve seemed to have gone quite out of the window! She cast an open-mouthed look his way, but he met her incredulous gaze quite calmly.

“I must also add that if anyone were to attempt to wrest my wife from me, I would be forced to take measures to counteract them,” he continued calmly.

“Oh, yes?” The King stirred in his seat with interest. “What sort of measures might those be?” he asked with grudging curiosity.

“I would be forced to fly with her,” he replied at once. “And put up somewhere fortified until the issue was resolved in my favor. I have kinsmen and friends whose sword arms I could rely upon.” He turned back to indicate Hal, Cuthbert, Kit, and Neville. Their hands clapped at once to their daggers; all save Neville, who carried none. Still, he straightened up with his wine jug, looking grimly resolved.

“Is that so?” The King sounded entertained. “Well, well. Good for you. Good for you, Wycliffe. You’re not chicken-hearted, I’ll give you that.” He looked across at the other party. “What about you, Farleigh?” Sir Douglas, looking pale, pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Speak up, I say!” roared the King. “This man says he’ll guard his wife with his sword and his honor. What say you to that?”

Sir Douglas lifted his chin, looking resolute. “Naught, save this, Your Highness. You can have mine, and welcome.”

Again, the crowd erupted with gasps and laughter. Constance, who had been trembling with suppressed fury and mortification at his side, finally snapped.

“You hateful beast!” she screamed and flew at Douglas, raining blows upon his chest. Sir Douglas stood there still as a statue, until she finally collapsed against him, sobbing and spent. Awkwardly, he closed his arms about her, supporting her, though he would not look at her face.

The crowd pressed closer, all agog. “Well, whoever would have thought that prim Lady Constance was such a shrew?” Gunnilde heard Lady Schaeffer say with relish.

“If I’d known she wasn’t a crushing bore I’d have cultivated her company sooner,” her friend replied dryly.

“Silence!” the King bellowed. “I can’t hear above all this noise.” He glared beadily at the courtiers until they fell silent, then turned back to Douglas. “You don’t want the troublesome wench anymore, is that it?” he asked, pursing his lips. “I can’t say as I blame you.”

Douglas’s face hardened. “In truth, she has given me little right to protect her or call her mine. She no longer wants me and she’s made that much plain.” Constance’s breathing hitched and she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes still swimming with tears.

Gunnilde’s nose quivered. She did not think it looked so plain at this moment in time. She went to take a step forward, but James’s hand closed firmly about hers, holding her fast. He gave her a warning look, as though to say Do not interfere.

“Mmm, and now you’re tired of her,” the King pronounced with a gusty sigh. “Well, this is a pretty state of affairs. If you’re going to elope with a man you need to have made up your mind from the outset, madam! You can’t be shilly-shallying about with one foot in and one foot out!”

“Take this pair for your example,” he said, gesturing toward James and Gunnilde. “They made up their minds to have each other and nothing stands in their way. That’s what you need to stand the test of marriage. Grim determination. It’s a bloody business and not for the faint of heart, I can tell you that much!”

Constance gave a muffled sob, and the double doors at the other end of the chamber burst open. It was Queen Armenal with her attendants.

“Make way for the Queen!” Piers Winstanley called out, leading the way. The crowd gasped and reluctantly fell back, leaving the newcomers a clear path through to the front. Even from a distance Gunnilde could see Queen Armenal was in a high temper.

“What is all this, occurring without my presence?” the Queen demanded, her eyes raking over them all. “This affair is one of my own making!” she asserted. “How dare you all try to cut me out of proceedings at this late point in the day!”

“Well, my dear, you were indisposed,” the King said significantly, waggling his eyebrows. “I didn’t wish to have you bothered at such a time.”

Armenal turned very pink at this mention, even indirectly of her morning sickness. “Nonsense!” she spluttered. “I needed only an hour or two for it to pass! You have been high-handed, abominably high-handed in this matter, Wymer!”

“No, no,” he placated her hastily, standing up from his throne. “I have made no final ruling, that is your province.” He descended the three steps and offered the Queen his arm, leading her up onto the dais, murmuring soothing words into her ear. “Bring my Queen’s throne forward,” he shouted.

Soldiers hastily mounted the dais to fulfil his bidding, and in a short time the Queen was enthroned beside him. Gunnilde watched as Piers, Mistress Bartree, Unwin, and the Queen’s guards stood unobtrusively to one side. Looking somewhat mollified, the Queen inclined her head. “Lord Schaeffer, you may provide me with a summary of all that has passed,” she said grandly.

Still looking deeply unhappy, that gentleman stepped forward and gave a summing up of the key points. Once he reached James’s repudiation of the claim he might be an interested party, she sat forward in her chair.

“But this part interests me greatly,” she said, holding up a finger. “For recently, I have wondered if I might have erred in my original solution to the problem of Lady Constance’s elopement.” She turned to James as all the air expelled from Gunnilde’s lungs. The Queen could not be saying what she thought she was saying, could she? That she had been mistaken to arrange their match in the first place? “Sir James, you maintain that you have no interest in pursuing an annulment of your own marriage.”

“Certainly not, Your Majesty,” he pronounced loudly.

“Such an idea is distasteful to your honor, perhaps?” she suggested delicately.

He hesitated. “Distasteful is not the word that I would use. It is not strong enough. I would say myself that the notion is revolting to me on every level.”

For a moment the Queen looked taken aback, then she seemed to recover. “Your finer feelings do you credit, Sir James.” She smiled. “You are a high-minded individual, and your scruples show your superiority of conscience. Yet I cannot help but think that in many ways, the issue could be redressed to bring about an outcome which would suit everyone a good deal more satisfactorily.”

“That is what we assert, Your Majesty,” cried Sir Elias, bowing low.

“Quiet, you!” the King growled.