Matilda meddles again

Alred found his wife dreaming before the fire in the hall.

“What’s this? My Matilda idle?” he laughed.

“Oh, you’re home too late, dear,” she said with her dreamy smile. “I had to put the children to bed without you.”

“I’m fortunate I didn’t miss your bedtime. I shall make my apologies to the children tomorrow,” he said, pulling a chair up next to hers. “Sigefrith had a letter with some odd news. I hope Margaret didn’t miss Papa’s song too much?” He kissed her hand.

“No, I had Baby sing to her. What did Sigefrith’s letter say?”

“You should really go see Sir Leila’s baby, dear,” he scolded softly, ignoring her question. “She’s hurt that you haven’t come. I believe Leofric is too.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “The longer I wait, the harder it is. I don’t care to see Maud just now.”

“Then contrive to go during her prayers. Maud spends half the day shut up in the chapel anyway.”

“I shall, I shall. Perhaps tomorrow. But only if you tell me what was in Sigefrith’s letter.”

“It was from Swein. It would seem that there are a few Norman earls who have been inquiring into his latest plans to overthrow your friend William.”

“Normans? Is it a trap?”

“They ought to know better than to try to trap wily old Swein in such a ham-​​handed way. Say, the Aetheling has joined him in Denmark, too.”

Matilda sniffed. “Probably got worried when he heard Magnus and Godwine showed up there.”

“No doubt. Speaking of whom, I have a letter for you from Magnus that came along with Swein’s. And one for my humble self as well, from Godwine, but I’m certain yours is more interesting.”

“Give it! Give it!” she cried, clapping her hands with excitement. “Oh, what did he draw this time?”

“A very handsome dragon,” Alred said, handing her the scroll, which was decorated on the outside with a drawing of a very handsome dragon indeed.

“Oh, I hope he didn’t write anything I should mind anyone reading,” she said as she broke the seal. “Yware will adore the dragon.”

Alred bent to pick up the pieces of wax she had scattered on the floor. “I shall be worried if your handsome young cousin begins writing you things that you don’t want anyone reading.”

“Oh, Magnus!” she huffed. “With his dreadful ratty little mustache!”

Alred chuckled and threw an arm over her shoulder, but discreetly watched the fire as she read. Still, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the curve of a smile in her cheek. She was beautiful even when one scarcely looked at her. But that was only the beginning. Poor Sigefrith, he thought, whose wife was merely beautiful!

“Oh my!” Matilda cried.

Alred turned to look at her, and saw her face go white and then red.

“Oh my!” she repeated.

“It’s a love letter after all, damn his mustache!”

“Oh, no! Oh, Alred! Oh, Alred!”

“What is it, darling?” he asked, suddenly frightened.

“Eadgith! She’s alive!”

“What? Who?”

“Lady Eadgith Hingwar, that’s who! Oh, Alred!”

“Why the hell is Magnus writing to you about Eadgith? He scarcely knows her, if at all.”

“I asked him.”

“You asked him?” he cried, leaping from his chair.

“Oh, but it was months ago! When Leofric first came. I’d forgotten all about it. I thought she might be in Denmark, but he says she’s still in Halsfield with her children. Their children. Oh, Alred!”

“Oh, Matilda!” he groaned. “What have you done now?”

“Don’t worry – I mean, I didn’t tell him that Leofric was here. I simply asked whether he had heard what happened to Eadgith…”

“Matilda! Magnus knew perfectly well Leofric was coming here! He knows Leofric is Sigefrith’s man! He himself sent Leofric to carry a letter to Sigefrith when they left Ireland!”

“Oh,” she said softly.

“‘Oh,’ she says! God help us if he sent word to Eadgith!”

“Well, and how so?” she snapped, standing as well. “Would it be wrong for her to learn that she isn’t a widow after all? That her children aren’t orphans?”

“You planned this the whole time! You did this in full knowledge that Eadgith would learn that Leofric was here, and, dare I say, with malice aforethought!”

“I never did, but even if I had, why shouldn’t I? I suppose you think that if a man gets tired of his wife, he need only pretend to die so that he can take another?”

“Pretend? Pretend? The man spent seven years as a slave, Matilda! Jupiter!”

“How would I feel if you had been… say you had been captured at Ely, and years later I learn that you had been living all this time with some other woman? And forgotten all about me and your children?”

He blinked at her. “The idea is preposterous, and furthermore has little to do with Leofric’s case, as I have already explained to you. Good God, Matilda! What will happen now? Why must you always meddle in other people’s lives?”

“I should like to know what difference my letter makes. Eadgith was not a widow yesterday, and she’s not a widow today. The only difference is that you and I now know how and where she is.”

“And what does she know?”

“Oh, you don’t truly believe that Magnus would trouble his precious self to write to a lady he scarcely knows to tell her that her husband is alive?”

“He might do it to please you.”

“Besides, if he knows Leofric, then he knows Leila. Surely he won’t write to Eadgith knowing that Leofric has taken another wife.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t put it past him. Your inability to perceive the subtle workings of other people’s lives before you come lumbering in with your various intentions, good and bad, seems to be a family trait. Remember what he did to Wulfnoth? Moreover, his own mother was a concubine, and he hated his stepmother, so who knows but that he might not take a malicious pleasure in breaking the news to poor Eadgith? Did it occur to you, in your wisdom, that she might be the most hurt?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Jupiter! What do you expect Leofric will do now? Take back his old wife as if they had never been apart? Send Leila and her babies back to Agadir?”

“Is that where she’s from?”

Alred glared at her. “Have you ever even spoken to her?”

“Of course I have. You know I have. Don’t look at me like that. We simply never spoke about her country.”

“Jupiter! If I didn’t think the whole thing was done to spite her!”

“Who? Leila? As if I should care to.”

“No. No, I don’t believe you would. You think yourself so far above her that I don’t believe you would care to spit on her if she were on fire.”

“Alred!”

“Forgive me, Matilda! I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m simply furious right now. I believe I shall go back to Sigefrith. It’s more his problem than mine. Give me your letter.”

“But I haven’t read the rest of it yet.”

“Give it to me! God help me, you sorely tempt me to forbid you to send letters I haven’t read!”

She handed him the letter.

“Now go to bed. You’re getting up early tomorrow to pay Sir Leila and her new baby a visit. Let’s give her a few more hours of happiness before she learns you have ruined her life, shall we?” he said before slamming the door behind him.