Page 46 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“I appreciate that you have only just come to court,” she began with dignity, “but you boys simply cannot disport yourselves in such a vulgar fashion here at the palace! It is thoroughly disgraceful behavior!” she scolded them all roundly. “Brawling in the Great Hall itself! What will the Queen say? I am a lady-in-waiting now, and my family’s conduct will be a reflection upon my own!”

“We did not start it,” Hal protested.

“That is neither here nor there,” Gunnilde retorted. “I for one should not be surprised if the Squires’ Revels were entirely canceled thanks to such unruly conduct!”

The boys appeared immediately chastened. There was much scuffling of feet and scratching of necks. The latch sounded at that moment and James walked in, holding something to his eye. “Bennett will bring us some ale presently.” His step checked on noticing Gunnilde. “Ah, there you are,” he said, looking suddenly self-conscious. “I apologize I did not come and find you this afternoon.” He lowered the poultice to reveal what looked suspiciously like the beginnings of a blackened eye. “But you see—”

Gunnilde let out a small scream and they all jumped.

“What happened to your eye, James?” she squawked, hurrying forward to seize hold of him. She reached up a hand to move his hair out of the way to get a better look.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbled.

“We just told you at great length!” Kit exclaimed. He turned to Hal. “I told you they never listen.”

Gunnilde rounded on them. “Indeed, you did not,” she said crossly as she shepherded James toward a chair next to the fire. “You told me that Neville—”

“Me?” Neville squawked in surprise. “What have I to do with it? I am entirely blameless in this affair, I assure you.”

“Neville wasn’t even there,” Hal agreed.

“No, I missed it altogether,” Neville confirmed. “I was taking sops with Lady Dortington and her friend Mistress Blanche Alden. Her servant serves it with spices and wine and a sort of custard made with the milk of almonds.”

“Sounds good,” Hal responded with interest. “What do they call it served that way?”

“Well—”

“Would you stop talking about sops?” Gunnilde begged impatiently. “No one cares about your sops, Neville! Did you or did you not shake someone like a rat and—”

“No, that wasn’t Neville,” Cuthbert interjected. “That was your husband.”

“But you just said—” Gunnilde broke off to look from James to Neville to Hal. “Do you mean to tell me that James was the one fighting by your side in the Great Hall?” Her jaw dropped when the boys all nodded.

“I wasn’t fighting,” James interjected testily. “I was attempting to break up the fight! Things escalated somewhat...”

“Who struck you?” demanded Gunnilde.

“No one,” James assured her. “I took an elbow to the face. It was mere accident.”

“Let me see.” She steered him into a chair where he sat passively as she peered anxiously around his eye.

“It looks very red and inflamed, I hope you do not get an unsightly bruise!”

“Well, I must say, you would think she would be more concerned about her own brother,” Hal huffed, scratching the top of Dustin’s head. “Instead, she fusses over Wycliffe like a mother hen with her beloved chick!”

“What is in that poultice?” she asked in a low murmur, for James looked embarrassed by her attention. “Does it have leek and garlic in it?”

“No, I’m glad to say, for that sounds most unpleasant. Cuthbert made it.”

“Oh.” Her anxiety resided at once. “Well, he will know better than I.”

“’Tis of turmeric and dandelion root,” Cuthbert volunteered, revealing his excellent hearing. “It should bring the bruising right out.”

Gunnilde tsked. “I hardly know whether we ought even to show our faces in the Great Hall for supper tonight,” she said, straightening up.

“We most certainly will be,” Hal said with alacrity. “I’m half starved!”

“I scarcely got anything to eat at midday,” Kit agreed. “Cosgrave is like a bottomless pit, for all he’s so scrawny. Did you see how many of the eggs he got down his gullet?”