Lord Guy’s voice was dreadful. She had to put an end to this, and quickly. Before she could think of a polite interruption, Victor joined the group and leaned to ask Lord Guy if he could borrow the lute to settle a bet.

“What was the bet?” Lord Guy demanded, obviously reluctant to surrender the lute.

“Three silver pieces that I don’t know all the word for Guillaume IX’s ‘My friends, I had such dismal fare.’” Sir Victor reached for the lute, clearly unwilling to take no for an answer. Alais hadn’t heard the song he mentioned and was hoping he might oblige with a performance. After all, she knew any song he knew by heart was unlikely to be suitable for her ears, which made it all the more interesting.

“Who was this bet with?” Lord Guy grumbled.

“Lord Daniel.”

Alais smiled. Even Lord Guy wasn’t bold enough to interfere with something involving Lord Daniel. Sir Victor took the lute. Alais and Lord Guy both looked around to see where Lord Daniel was. He was absorbed in a battle of verse with a troubadour from Dover who sang some clever verse earlier in the evening.

Sir Victor didn’t bother to look around. He wasn’t even pretending the bet was real. Lord Guy was no longer singing, andthat was all that mattered. While she admired his quick thinking, she couldn’t help but poke at him—he was so fun to poke at, after all.

“Sir Victor,” she said, “I don’t believe I’ve heard the song you mentioned before. Perhaps you might sing it for us while Lord Daniel finishes his business with that troubadour from Dover.”

His brows furrowed and he gave a miniscule shake of his head, intended only for her, but she was having none of it.

“Please, Sir Victor. Humor me.”

He took a deep breath and swallowed. Her various suitors shifted in irritation, trying to pretend they didn’t mind.

Lord Guy looked askance. “I’m not sure that’s suitable for—”

“I’m sure Sir Victor wouldn’t sing anything unsuitable, especially to me,” she said before he could finish. “Wouldyou, Sir Victor?”

Sir Victor gave her a strained smile.

“See, gentlemen? He would never do anything that was not proper.” She tilted her head and fluttered her eyelashes at him, almost certain she could hear his blood boiling in his veins. She smiled and she knew it was the brightest of smiles, because this time it wasn’t for show. For the first time all day, she was enjoying herself.

“Surely, you don’t want to hear Sir Victor sing when there is so muchothertalent in this room,” Sir Robert said, caressing her shoulder and squeezing it. Something in Sir Victor’s face hardened at the sight.

“Oh, I think I would,” she said, tucking a stray strand of hair back into her golden hair net. “He’s been hiding his talent. I’d like to hear what he has to offer.”

Sir Robert leaned close to her ear. “Surely, my lady, any one of us would be a better—” Sir Victor strummed his first chord with confidence, and Sir Elias stepped back with wide eyes.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Lord Louis whispered loudly, but Sir Victor ignored him, strumming several more chords, and then plucking a lively melody.

“My friends, I had such dismal fare,” he began in a gruff but surprisingly tuneful baritone. “I must my own vexation share.” He caught Alais’s eye for a moment but swiftly looked away. “Not that you need to be aware. It’s truly only my affair.”

Lord Alphonse perked up from his drunken stupor. “Hey, I know this one,” he chimed in happily.

“But I shall sing, and you shall see,” Sir Victor continued. “That these three things do not please me: a queen under guard, a pond without fish—”

“Those aren’t the words,” Lord Alphonse objected, swaying slightly in his chair. “It isn’t ‘queen,’ it’s c—”

“—and worthless boasts and flattery,” Sir Victor sang loudly, drowning out whatever Lord Alphonse was about to say as his fingers flew over the strings. He was an unexpectedly capable musician, though she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. He was capable of most everything he undertook.

As he continued to sing, he winked at her, and Sir Robert’s caresses became a death grip. She turned to give Sir Robert a look, and he murmured an apology, loosening his pinching fingers.

Sir Elias, she noticed, had turned his icy stare on Sir Victor. There was something smug in his look that Alais didn’t like. But why would Sir Elias have views about Victor? How could they have met? Did it have something to do with the tensions between Sir Victor’s aunt and the Archbishop?

Meanwhile, Lord Guy looked on with barely contained irritation. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate being shown up.

In spite of the various lords’ reactions, Sir Victor’s performance was well received by those nearby who were not in competition for her attention. He began to draw a crowd. By thetime he’d finished the song, half the room had gathered round. Alais had no idea why he was so shy about singing. He was an expert performer. Even Daniel and the troubadour from Dover were watching by the end.

“You really do know every word of everything Guillaume IX composed,” Daniel said, giving an appreciative nod.

“Well, he did change afewwords,” the troubadour from Dover chimed in.