Sigefrith loses his temper

Ordinarily Sigefrith did not appreciate being disturbed after supper, when he allowed himself an hour or two with his family before the children went to bed and he returned to his study to work a while longer. But he was growing increasingly annoyed with his wife’s willingness to give in to her young son’s every fit of temper, and he thought that a spat with an angry Theobald – so had the steward described him – would be just the thing to work off his own frustrations. If only he knew what Theobald had to be angry about!

“Good evening, Theobald,” he said evenly.

“Where are they?” Theobald growled.

“Where are who?”

“Baldwin and my niece.”

Sigefrith rapidly came to a few conclusions, but he did not yet speak.

“Where are they?” Theobald repeated.

“The last I heard of Baldwin, he was with his uncle. And you know better than I where to find your niece.”

“Damn you!” Theobald howled. Theobald certainly was a very large man. “Don’t play dumb! Where are you hiding them? What are you doing for them?”

“Theobald, please calm yourself and tell me of what, precisely, you are accusing me.”

“Her sister told me you were helping them!”

“Helping them! Am I to understand that Baldwin has eloped with your elder niece?”

“Precisely! And I have been made to understand that you are behind it!”

“I? Theobald! I knew nothing of this!”

“That is what Ana told me.”

“And I am telling you the contrary!” Sigefrith barked. “Whom will you believe?”

“I don’t know whom to believe,” Theobald muttered. “I don’t know whom to trust. You told me to trust him, even though he was a Norman. You told me – ”

“He is not a Norman! His mother is Flemish, and his father had a Flemish mother and a Danish father! He is no more Norman than I!”

“He is no more a Norman than Queen Matilda, you mean!”

“Queen Matilda’s mother was French, but never mind…”

“And Queen Matilda’s sons!”

“Theobald!” Sigefrith groaned.

And then he heard a merry whistling coming from the dining hall, and he knew it for a Scottish tune. Malcolm was ordinarily too discreet a lad to announce his presence by whistling, but now it was clearly his presence that he intended to announce.

“Malcolm!” Sigefrith called. “Come in here! Perhaps he’ll know something,” he said to Theobald.

“Oh, very well! Call in your Scot! And why not call in your Dane and your Norseman and your what else, while you’re at it?” Theobald raged, but he sobered when Malcolm came in and met his eyes.

Malcolm could do remarkable things with the scorn of those golden-​​brown eyes, and there were few things he held in greater scorn than men who could not control their tempers.

“My lord,” Malcolm bowed to the Baron.

“Boy,” Sigefrith said to him, “what do you know of Baldwin’s activities today?”

“Lord Baldwin or Sir Baldwin?” Malcolm asked calmly.

“Sir Baldwin! Damn your impudence!” Theobald roared at him. “I’m certain my lord spent the day playing with his toys! Sir Baldwin! He ran off with my niece!”

Malcolm came to stand at Sigefrith’s side. “I’m surprised to hear it,” he said, still with a calm that seemed a reproach.

“What?” Sigefrith laughed. “Even you didn’t see it coming?”

“No, I didn’t. I did not think that Sir Baldwin was a dishonorable man. Either I have been deceived, or Sir Baldwin does not believe he is behaving dishonorably.”

“Perhaps that is how they marry in Normandy!” Theobald said with an angry laugh.

“Theobald,” Sigefrith cried in exasperation, “what is this about? Are you unhappy that a man eloped with your niece, or are you unhappy that my cousin spent time amongst Normans?”

“I don’t know why I should be unhappy about that! I should be used to foreigners by now! Your court is nothing but! Nothing but Danes, and Saxons, and Scots, and Norsemen, and Saracens, and – ”

“Enough!”

“There’s not a good Englishman among you but Alred! Not one! And now the Normans!”

“Enough!”

Sigefrith too could do remarkable things with his voice, if not with his eyes, when he was sufficiently angry. Theobald quieted, though he still glared at him.

“I assure you I had no idea Baldwin had any intention of doing anything dishonorable with your niece, and I shall refrain from reminding you that this could have been avoided if you had allowed him to hope for a chance at winning her hand. If anyone knows where he is, it will be his uncle. So if you – ”

“I already sent to Leofric.”

“Whom? Osfrey?”

“Yes! Yes! Osfrey! Someone I trust!”

Malcolm coughed, but Sigefrith was too angry by now to heed his warning. “Shall I take that as an insult?”

“You may take that as you like! But he’s an Englishman!”

“If only I thought you didn’t refuse Baldwin out of hand merely to spite me, over him and his various eligible children!”

“If only I thought you didn’t refuse Lady Eada out of hand merely because she isn’t foreign enough for you! I don’t want any of your Danish princesses or your Norse nobility! I shall marry an Englishwoman!”

“Not that one, Theobald!” Sigefrith pleaded.

Malcolm sighed.

“Why not that one?” Theobald snarled.

“We need allies!”

“Get your own! I need a good woman to be a mother to my children! First! You may dispose of your relations as you will, but I and mine shall marry where I choose, and they shall marry Englishmen and Englishwomen!”

“Theobald…” Sigefrith sighed.

Theobald went as far as the door, but he turned to say, “Mark my words, Sigefrith! You have had your way, and so shall I have mine! If my niece is not returned to me at once, before it’s too late, I shall marry on Holyrood Day! Whom, you know!”

“I suppose it’s already too late, Theobald,” Sigefrith said. “He will have to marry her now, to make an honest woman of her.”

“Then let them marry!” Theobald said. “And then I shall make a widow of her!”

Theobald went out, nearly bowling over the startled guard who stood outside, and Sigefrith stared mournfully after him.

“What did you always say, potlicker?” he asked Malcolm. “Before you lost your head? ‘Women!’”

“That was not about women,” Malcolm said.

“I know, I know. I never should have curled my lip at Sir Osfrey that day outside of Durham.”

“The Baron never would have noticed him, except as his cousin, if you hadn’t insulted him that day.”

“I didn’t insult him!” Sigefrith protested with a weary laugh.

“You have an eloquent curled lip. And every time the name is mentioned between the two of you, it gets worse.”

“I know. I know.”

“And you know Theobald’s sudden interest in Englishness is being whispered into his ear.”

“I know. I suppose I shall have to smile and bear it all. The only way to beat Osfrey is to whisper into the other ear, and I can only do that if Theobald lends it to me. I suppose I shall have to make the best of it.”

“You always do.”

“I rather made a mess of that, though. Admit it.”

“Temper, temper!” Malcolm scolded.

“I know! I know!”