Alred was, exceptionally, content to sit quietly and let his friends carry the conversation. Certainly Lili was doing her part to keep the laughter going at the other side of the long table, and at this side there was young Cynewulf to provide the entertainment by bouncing jokes off the Earl’s grave mien. Alred was happy deep down, as he had not been in many years, and he wanted to concentrate a while on savoring that happiness.
Of course, it was not the giddy, reckless happiness he had known upon the occasion of his first marriage, when he had awoken in an unfamiliar bed, with a headache like an axe planted in his skull, and the most bewitching woman he had ever known sleeping in his arms, and no idea how he or it or she had come to be there.
That had been the happiness of a man of twenty, and that happiness was boundless, because a man of twenty did not know any better. This was the happiness of a man of forty, who had already lived and loved and lost, and who already had five beautiful children who had given him a reason to go on living until he could begin loving again.
It was not a giddy or a reckless happiness, but its source was now firmly rooted deep down inside of him, and he thought that, while he might still feel lonely from time to time, he would never feel alone again. Not as long as he had Hetty.
Alred’s attention was briefly distracted by the appearance of Lady Eadgith in the hall. Alred was about to call out to her to ask her whether she would join them after all, but she appeared to be trying to remain discreet, and so he watched her.
She smiled and nodded at her daughter, but she bent her head to her son’s and whispered something to him that caused him to fumble out of his chair and follow her meekly out of the hall.
Alred wondered whether Wynflaed were not more ill than he had been told. In any case it appeared that Lady Eadgith was not nearly as ill as he had been told.
Despite the terrors he had imagined after seeing the state in which his groomsmen found themselves earlier that afternoon, the sudden indisposition of Lady Eadgith and Lady Wynflaed had been the only noteworthy mishap of his wedding day, and he was now safely married.
The circumstances had not been made clear to him, but he knew better than to ask details of a lady’s physical condition. Moreover he had been led to believe that it had something to do with what they had consumed during their little party of the evening before, and he knew as little about what went on among the ladies on the eve of a wedding as the ancient Roman senators must have known of the rites surrounding the worship of the Bona Dea. And he did not dare ask.
Sir Sigefrith did not return, but after a time Lady Eadgith did. Alred still did not call out to her, but several of the others did. She smiled at them, but she went directly to her husband, whom Alred had generously asked to sit at the bridal table, and whispered something into his ear.
Again she only smiled at the Queen, so Alred could not suppose she had bad news to tell. And again Leofric followed her out, taking care not to look anyone in the eye on his way.
Alred tried to catch Lili’s attention, since she had been sitting next to Leofric and might have overheard. But Lili very carefully kept her attention focused on Sigefrith and the Baroness at the opposite end of the table. Hetty too seemed distracted. Only Egelric smiled up at him and shrugged.
“You stay here,” Alred mouthed at him and pointed at the table.
Egelric grinned and shrugged again.
Egelric had been grinning like a bear with a mouthful of bees all afternoon. Alred had begun to worry when Egelric had disappeared for an unusual length of time when he had gone up to fetch Hetty. However, he had appeared at the end of it with that foolish grin, but also with a well-composed Hetty on his arm, and that was the essential.
Egelric had seemed to have sobered up enough to walk straight meanwhile, and Father Brandt had also recovered enough to lead the ceremony, though he had done enough smiling of his own that Hetty had giggled a few times after all. However, it seemed to Alred that a little laughter on the occasion of a wedding boded well for the couple’s happiness.
And still Hetty would not look at him. Alred looked back at the Queen in the hope that she would have some clue, but the Queen was even then rising from her chair.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Sigefrith called out to her, thereby saving Alred the trouble.
The Queen only pointed at her belly with a sheepish smile and waddled away.
Certainly that was an unanswerable argument, Alred thought, though again he did not dare presume he knew what the actual cause could be.
That nearly accounted for that family: Leofric, Eadgith, young Sigefrith, Eadie, and Wynflaed were all missing. The only remaining member was the King, and Alred looked over to him and mouthed, “You stay here,” and tapped his finger on the table again.
Sigefrith shrugged.
“Where’s everyone going?” Cynewulf asked. “I think it’s a surprise.”
“It’s not the going I mind,” Alred said, “it’s the not coming back. But I don’t believe they all went for the same reason.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Unless you suppose Leofric and young Sigefrith are expecting ‘runts’ of their own?”
Cynewulf laughed. “Who’s the papa?”
“Old Man!” Gwynn gasped and waved her hand at Edris to remind him that there were ladies present.
But even Cenwulf laughed at that. “You seem wise beyond your years, Old Man.”
“I know all about that,” Cynewulf groaned.
“You do?” Alred asked. “How did you figure that out?”
“Haakon told me.”
“Ohhh…” Alred decided he would have to have a talk with young Sigefrith, as well as with the Old Man.
“Excuse me a moment,” Edris said softly and began to rise.
“Not you, too!” Alred cried. “I protest!”
“But, Alred…” she murmured and laid her hands on her belly.
Alred sighed.
“I know who the papa is,” Cynewulf whispered slyly after she had gone out of hearing.
“Old Man!” Gwynn gasped.
“But there aren’t any ladies left down here!” Cynewulf protested.
“And what is Gwynn?” Alred asked.
“She’s only my sister.”
Alred was about to ask what difference that made, but he was distracted—as was every man in the room—by the motion of a small yet brilliant celestial body clad in a dress of clinging wine-red. It was Lili’s turn to rise and immediately eclipse herself.
Egelric pawed at her as she went, but Alred could not tell whether it was a drunken attempt to stop her or merely Egelric taking advantage of an opportunity to lay his hand on his wife’s behind.
When at last Egelric looked up at him, Alred pointed at his stomach and mimed a question. Egelric shrugged again, though he did look alarmed at the idea.
Hetty still did not look at her husband, but she appeared disturbed by Lili’s disappearance.
“That’s it!” Alred groaned. “No one else is leaving without the Duke’s permission, and that shall be had only with a good excuse.”
“Alred…” Hetty said timidly.
“Yes, my lady?”
“Perhaps I could… find out for you…”
“For that matter so could I.”
“I shall go!” Cynewulf cried.
“Who’s the papa?” Cenwulf gasped.
“You—!” Cynewulf growled through clenched teeth. “I don’t think it has anything to do with babies,” he announced after he had calmed himself. “I think it’s a surprise, and no one told me!” he whined.
“Alred…” Hetty pleaded.
“Very well, my dear,” Alred sighed. “You may go.”
“But I want to go!” Cynewulf complained.
“Did you eat your peas? No. Therefore you shall not go,” Alred said with a father’s cruel logic.
“Hetty didn’t eat her peas!” Cynewulf protested. “Hetty didn’t even take peas!”
“That shows you how clever your stepmother is.”
Hetty had not been gone a minute when the door behind Alred was heard to open and the Baron cried, “Sigefrith!”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Alred said, “if they start returning in the order in which they left. You will notice, sir, that we have begun running low on wedding guests since you disappeared.”
“I’ve brought you another,” young Sigefrith laughed and held up a tiny baby for the Duke’s inspection.
“Jupiter!” Alred gasped. “Is that what Wynflaed ate last night? I mean—”
“That’s the surprise!” Cynewulf groaned in disappointment. “It was about babies! But who’s the papa?” he asked with a sudden, devilish inspiration.
“I am!” young Sigefrith cried. “What’s gotten into you, runt?”
“Let me see!” Gwynn cooed. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“Let your father see first, Gwynn. It’s a boy, and Wyn would like to name him Alred in your honor, if she may.”
“Jupiter!” Alred gasped. “The honor would be mine!”
Lili, who had just reappeared with Hetty, said smugly, “I told you we ladies would not allow anything to jeopardize your wedding, Alred.”
“That is true,” Alred said. “But this boy’s arrival has made a mess of my wedding dinner.”
“Well, I didn’t say anything about your wedding dinner. And this boy is not a lady, I bid you notice. We ladies did the best we could. And some of us did more than we should,” she laughed and turned to her husband.
“God bless the ladies!” Egelric cried from across the room, still with that foolish grin.
Every time I eat peas now I think of this story...
Chapters
How wonderful! Poor Alred was about at his wits end it seemed. I absolutely loved how people kept leaving and not saying why. That was beautiful! And the ladies kept their promise.
This has been a wonderful series of updates. You did a great job of making it feel as though we were at the wedding as well. Thank you!