Page 135 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“For instance,” the Queen continued serenely, “quite mistakenly it seems, your current wife felt you did not care to perform in front of an audience.” Current wife, thought Gunnilde incensed. Current wife? “This shows a basic lack of understanding of our character which—”

“She was not remotely mistaken,” James interrupted the Queen forthrightly, quite taking Gunnilde’s breath away. “I don’t care for it.”

“Well, but you performed the other evening, most beautifully, to the acclaim of all!” the Queen protested.

“I was merely filling in that part due to a last-minute absence. I will do that when the occasion demands but I will never choose to perform.”

The Queen smiled thinly. “Be that as it may, Sir James, I cannot help but be aware of several points of incompatibility between my good Gunnilde and yourself. She is a simple, straightforward soul and you are an artist. I did not appreciate this sufficiently when first I championed your match. Had I but realized, I would never have proposed such a thing.”

But James had already turned toward the King. “If the position of royal musician is considered a bar to my marriage, then I hereby refuse the honor, Your Majesty.”

“Is that so?” the King asked looking diverted.

“Sir James!” the Queen burst out, sitting up very straight in her chair. “Am I to understand that you refuse our generous offer?”

“There can be no question, Your Highness. If I have the option of keeping my wife by my side or accepting the position of royal musician, then I will never hesitate as to my choice. I will choose her every time.”

Queen Armenal appeared quite dumbfounded by this. As for the spectators, they were positively agog. The buzz of their whispers seemed to rouse her from her stupor. “Forgive me, Sir James,” she said rallying, “but you are clearly ill-suited for the writing of popular ballads. Are you aware,” she asked with a tight smile, “that was the path your wife envisaged for you? What say you to that, sirrah?”

Well! Gunnilde fumed to see the way the Queen thought to use her previous confidences against her. I will never confide in her again! she thought, bosom heaving. If it had not been a punishable offense, she would have dragged off her shoe and flung it at her royal head! Only James’s calmness, his composure of manner held her back from the brink of disaster.

“I am well aware that my wife thinks I could turn my hand to any musical endeavor,” he answered. “And while flattered by her faith in me, I must respectfully leave the ballad writing to my brother-in-law.”

“Payne writes ballads too, does he?” the King asked with a flicker of interest.

A spasm of annoyance crossed Queen Armenal’s face. “We are not speaking of your Master Payne right now, but of Sir James!”

“Well, well,” the King said indulgently. “I must admit Payne is a lad after my own heart. Must get him to sing me his ballad sometime.”

“Right gladly, Your Majesty,” piped up Hal cheerfully.

“I believe you would like it, sire,” James asserted. “It is more comedic than dramatic in theme.”

“Oh, yes?” Clearly the King thought this a point in its favor.

“If you have quite finished,” the Queen said tartly, “then I must insist we return to the matter at hand.”

“Your Majesty,” James said, lifting his voice. “You must appreciate, I would be entirely useless in the role of royal musician if you were to take Gunnilde from me.” He paused to let this point sink in as the audience jostled for a better position to observe him. Gunnilde watched him, wondering what he would say next.

“The music you wish me to write will never be written without her,” he continued. “The tales you wish me to commemorate mean naught to me without her interpretation. I have examined the tapestries you mentioned, and they conveyed precisely nothing to me.”

There was another stirring in the room. “I was not moved to write the piece of music you so admire until my wife relayed the story to me. It was through her words alone that I was inspired.”

The Queen’s expression of disbelief momentarily lifted. “You mean,” she said hesitantly, “that Gunnilde is your muse?”

“I suppose you could put it that way,” he answered after a heavy pause. “Another way would be this.” He turned to draw Gunnilde close, wrapping possessive a possessive arm about her waist. “This woman is mine and I’ll take no other to wife while I live and breathe. This I vow.”

Gunnilde’s heart flew right out of her chest. That James should say such a thing, should act thus, in front of a packed room of spectators! She could scarce believe it. Then he gave a brief bow and started to pull Gunnilde away as if they had been dismissed already. As if the matter was closed.

“Wait!” the Queen called out desperately. “There is still much to be settled!”

“Seems to me he’s made his position abundantly plain,” said King Wymer. “Best content yourself with dismantling this other marriage.” He gestured toward Constance and Douglas. “This one’s standing. Wycliffe’s not giving her up and I can’t say as I blame him. Sensible fellow that, in spite of the, er, artist thing.” He gave a motion of his hand to indicate the guards should let them pass, and James and Gunnilde made their escape.

46

“Let us get out of here before we get besieged and halt proceedings,” James murmured in her ear, urging her forward. She spared one more glance over her shoulder for Constance and Douglas and then pushed on.

On their way out, both Harriet and Winifred detached from the crowd, darting out to joyfully embrace her. Much to her surprise she had also received a tight-lipped smile and an approving nod from Mistress Bartree. Everyone else had been a blur.