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Oswald frowned. “What?”

“She has decided she will marry Gil. And bring him up to scratch.”

“What do you think of it?” he asked, stalling for time.

“Oh, I think it is the very best notion. She is five years older than Gil and will not stand for any of his nonsense. And she has always wanted to run her own house, so she will soon put an end to his drinking and carrying on.”

“So, we will still have family links to Thane?” asked Oswald not sounding best pleased.

“Oh, but when she marries Gil, she will become a Bernard,” said Fen smugly. “And she and Ambrose are completely estranged as she took an unaccountable disliking to Lady Colleen. I think it is the very best notion, for I do not like Sarah Yondy and...”

Oswald rolled her onto her back. “Presently you may tell me why you do not like Sarah Yondy,” he assured her. “And I will be very interested and supportive and say all the right things.”

She laughed up at him. “Presently?” she repeated. “But not right now?”

“No, he said,” lowering his head to hers. “Not right now.”

Much later, as Fen was drifting off to sleep in her husband’s arms, he murmured. “Why was she dressed as a boy?”

Fen started to raise her head to explain, but he tucked it back into his neck.

“Tell me later.”

Epilogue

The Royal banqueting hall, The palace at Aphrany

Fen stared down at the many-handled wassail bowl and grasped it gingerly. There were so many spouts she just knew she would get drenched with the mulled punch as soon as she tipped it to her mouth. Her husband reached around her and plugged some of the spouts with his fingers and thumbs. Fen admired their matching posy rings with ‘Not Forgot’ inscribed inside the bands.

“Try it now,” he murmured against her ear.

“Boo!” yelled King Wymer, slapping the table top. “Cheating! The Vawdreys are cheating!”

“Ah-ah,” The Lord of Misrule upbraided him, striking the back of his hand with a staff entwined with holly. Wymer yelped and sank back into his chair. “Damn that fellow,” he muttered with a scowl, rubbing his hand.

Queen Armenal laughed. “You must abide by the rules of the feast, my dear,” she reminded him. Next to the Queen sat Princess Una with her extraordinary frizzy wig. Her dark eyebrows were raised, giving her a perplexed look. She gazed around her as if at a roomful of crazy people.

Fen tipped the bowl and swallowed a mouthful of the spicy brew. By some miracle, her gown remained unsoaked. The Schaeffers sat opposite led the applause.

“Bravo!” yelled Hester Schaeffer. “You did it!”

“My newest lady-in-waiting has passed the test,” said the Queen with satisfaction.

Fen passed the bowl to her left and Roland took it from her with a wink.

“The King’s champion must kiss the girl who finds the silver token!” cried the fool, who was relishing his role presiding over the celebrations. He turned a cartwheel and then danced back up to the other end of the table. A burst of laughter greeted him as the boisterous knights toasted his health.

Fen’s eyes widened. “But I saw who found the token,” she whispered to Oswald.

“And who was that?” he murmured, his arm slipping about her waist.

“Twas Eden Montmayne!” Oswald’s hand at her side drew her closer, propelling her to scoot across on the bench and sit on his lap. “My lord!” she said in scandalized tones. “What will his majesty say?”

“His majesty, the Lord of Misrule will entirely approve,” replied Oswald unabashed. And he was probably right, for the King’s fool was capering up and down in a mad dance, as Wymer sat sulking.

“Roland will never kiss Eden,” said Fen a little sadly.

“Ah, but tonight is given over to misrule,” Oswald reminded her. “And everything is turned upside down.”