Theobald Selle was eating a lonely supper. The Countess had come by earlier and taken Githa and Athelis up to Lothere Castle to dine with the Queen. Theobald wasn’t fond of fancy dinners and even less fond of the haughty queen, so he was content enough to stay home, but he missed the bright smile of his wife across the table and the silly prattle of his daughter who bounced on his knee while he ate. Instead he stared into the fire and drearily mused about what he might plant in the lower field come spring. It was presently a sodden mess due to the unseasonal thaw.
He was altogether pleased to be interrupted by a knock on the door. He thought it might be one of his workers, but it proved to be Earl Cenwulf instead, carrying an oddly-shaped bundle wrapped in a wool blanket. Once inside, Cenwulf opened the bundle to reveal a drowsy little baby, the Lady Eadith, who had been left behind by her mother as being too young to appreciate a dinner with the Queen.
Cenwulf was distinctly uncomfortable with his mission here, and somehow it had seemed that the presence of a baby would prove calming – for him or for Theobald he couldn’t say. He bounced Eadith awkwardly while Theobald politely inquired into the state of his family and his barns and his cattle.
“Theobald,” he finally said, “I’m sorry to say this isn’t merely a neighborly visit. Colburga has sent me to give you some… news that she thinks you would rather hear from a man.”
The tone in his friend’s voice caused Theobald’s heart to begin to thump. His mind raced – what could it be? Was his father dead? “Go ahead,” he said, trying to sound brave.
“It’s about your wife.”
Githa! Dear God, what had happened to Githa? “Is she ill? Is she sick? The baby – ?”
Cenwulf cleared his throat. He hadn’t thought about the baby. He wondered briefly how Alred could dare – unless the baby were– No, he wouldn’t think about that. “No, no, I believe she’s well.”
“What is it?” Theobald begged, his face gone white.
“It’s about your wife and Alred.”
Theobald blinked.
“It would seem that they… that there’s something happening between them.”
“Something happening?” Theobald could not even conceive of what the Earl was trying to say.
Cenwulf saw that he would have to be more explicit. “It would appear that Githa and Alred have been having a relationship. A physical relationship.”
“Adultery?” Theobald said finally, with a sort of choking laugh.
Cenwulf nodded.
“That’s absurd!” He tried to imagine his shy, gentle wife organizing midnight rendez-vous and getting the farmhands to deliver passionate letters – no, no, it was too absurd!
“Theobald, this morning Matilda followed Alred to your house, and when she looked in the window she saw him standing here naked before the fire, with Githa – ah, touching him.”
Theobald stared down at the fire, trying to breathe steadily and fight down a wad of pain that was rapidly forming itself into a sob. Cenwulf waited for him. “Was she naked too?” he asked when he thought he had his voice under control.
“Not at that time.”
Theobald stared a few minutes more at the fire, trying to find a rational explanation for all of this. It was impossible – absolutely impossible that his wife could do such a thing. Or he knew nothing about her at all. “They say that sometimes, when a woman has a baby or gets sick, that sometimes she gets a little hysterical.”
“You’re thinking of Matilda?”
“Maybe she didn’t see what she thought she saw.”
“I can’t say. Or perhaps it is Githa who is unwell. I don’t believe that anyone has talked to Alred or Githa about this yet. We thought you might like to talk to your wife… before Matilda does.”
Theobald nodded. After a while he asked, “You don’t believe it, do you?”
Cenwulf shifted Eadith to his other arm. “I only know what Colburga told me, and she only knows what Matilda told her. You and Matilda know Alred and Githa better than I.”
Theobald picked up the wool blanket that Cenwulf had brought and handed it back to him. “Please excuse me, but I would like to be alone now.”
Cenwulf wrapped up Lady Eadith and went out into the night without a word.
Theobald walked back to the fire in a daze. It couldn’t be true, it was too unbelievable. It was much more likely that Matilda was seeing things, or playing a cruel joke, or… Suddenly he realized that he was probably standing on the very spot where Alred had stood that morning. Naked, in his own house, with his own wife!
He spun away from the fire and stalked into the kitchen, shaking all over. “It’s not true, it’s not true,” he repeated to himself.
There would be an explanation. It would all be over in a few hours when Githa came home, and she explained to him, and he held her tight.
His eyes were drawn irresistably back to the fire in the other room. The spot where the other man would have stood. Naked before his wife. She touching him. And then he saw that of course he would be touching her too. The other man would undress her, as he loved to undress her. And touch her as he loved to touch her. Theobald stood and watched it all from the kitchen. He knew that Githa, who was so shy, was so passionate too in her gentle way, and he knew too well what they would do there, and he watched them.
Theobald slammed his fists against the wall. How could she do it? How could she let him touch her? How could she let him do that to her even when she was carrying his baby in her belly? Or was it his baby at all?
He moaned, his head in his hands. He had gone to the edge of the imaginable, and beyond. Now he couldn’t come back on his own. He sank down onto the cold bricks of the floor, buried his face in his arms, and thus would Githa find him when she returned.
Poor Theobald.