Eadgith smiled and blushed to herself as she came to stand a moment before the nursery door.
That morning, she and Sigefrith had been discussing what to do about rearranging the children’s rooms once Colban had left them, and she had suggested that one of them be given the nursery, since Emma was getting old enough that she scarcely needed nurses and nurseries any longer. Sigefrith had smiled fondly on her for a moment before saying that, for his part, he hoped that they would one day have need again of nurses and nurseries, and that in the meantime it was probably best that they left the room as it was.
She was constantly amazing herself with the ever-expanding range of her own foolishness. But if he thought her a dolt, he at least thought her an adorable dolt, and as for her, she had discovered that the corner of his neck was an ideal place to hide one’s face when one embarrassed oneself. All told, she fancied they would be quite happy together, though as time passed and the day of her wedding approached, she found it ever more difficult to believe that any of it was true.
She smiled again and sighed as she pushed open the door of the nursery.
For an instant she looked on it fondly as a new setting for her little dreams – and then the dream faltered, and she struggled to understand – and then the dream fell away and she saw it as in a nightmare.
“Oh, God!” Matilda cried softly and pushed Eadgith’s father away from her.
He spun around with his face set in a vicious challenge, but the look crumbled as he recognized Eadgith as the one person he could not bear to have see him in such a light.
Eadgith hung her head, and hot tears sprang to her eyes, and her heart swelled to twice its size and thundered in her narrow chest. She could not understand – she could only think of Leila, and Alred, and her mother, and Sigefrith, and herself, and everyone, everyone whom they had betrayed…
“My baby,” her father said softly, and he approached her hesitantly, as if he dare not even stand near her.
“Shut up!” she blubbered, finding only the crude words of a child on her lips.
“Baby, you don’t understand,” he soothed.
“Shut up, shut up, I don’t care!” she howled.
“Leofric, close the door,” Matilda said softly.
“No! You – ! You – !” Eadgith sobbed, but her childish mind could not find words vile enough by which to call her. “I shall shut it!” she cried, and she turned and fled, leaving them the burden of their guilt in the wake of her child’s outrage.
Chapters
Good, they deserved to be caught.