Sir Sigefrith cannot refuse

“Did you ask him?” Hilda asked at once.

“Yes, Hilda, I asked him,” Sigefrith sighed.

The night before, Hilda had suddenly remembered that Stein had slept in their house on that eventful night of September last. It had been difficult enough to convince her that he could not simply go to Brede’s house in the middle of the night and demand to see his squire at once. She had required that he go first thing in the morning.

“And?”

“What do you suppose? He was shocked and insulted that I should even ask such a thing.”

“He’s no angel!”

“He’s a good man, Hilda. He likes girls, but not enough to… to rape them in their beds.”

In truth, this is not what Sigefrith had asked Stein. Rather he had suggested the possibility that Hilda had been very drunk that night and had forgotten what happened, but that perhaps she had done a few things that she would regret if she could remember them.

Sigefrith himself considered this a real possibility. Indeed, he hoped it was the truth. He would rather believe she did not have a regular lover, but had simply had too much to drink one night, after having been frightened by his father…

“Who could it be?” she howled.

“Mama?” Dora whimpered. The girls had been playing behind the bench, but they had grown so still upon Sigefrith’s arrival that he had nearly forgotten they were there.

“It’s all right, baby bee,” Sigefrith soothed. “Mama just got a bad surprise.” Then he whispered to his wife, “Hilda, please calm yourself. It frightens the children, and it isn’t good for you to get so upset.”

“Not good for me? Not good for the baby, you mean! Fine! Fine! I hope it dies!”

“Hilda!”

“Who could it be?” she pleaded.

“Calm yourself, Hilda,” he said and dared to stroke her hair. “I don’t know who, but it must have been someone here – a servant or a groom. Little though I like to think I have such a man in my employ. I don’t see how anyone could get through the gate and into the house during the night.”

He would rather believe that someone – perhaps even someone with a grudge against Hilda, as she was not kind to the servants – had seen his mistress drunk, and had taken advantage of her incapacity. It frightened him to think that the man was still near, but it frightened him more to think that Hilda had a lover and was lying to them all, most cruelly.

“And, Hilda,” he whispered, steeling himself for the response that was sure to follow, “I am not accusing you of anything, but I should like to say, if you are lying to me about what happened, and this Stein story was part of an elaborate attempt to convince me you are telling the truth, please believe that I believe you, and do not ask me again to ask another man whether he has raped my wife.”

She did not have the reaction he expected. She did not throw back her head and shriek her rage as he expected. She did not strike him as he expected. Instead she sobbed and clung to him.

“What if he’s still here?” she whimpered.

“No one shall hurt you again, Hilda,” he said softly. “We have locks on all the doors.”

“But what if he comes? What if he breaks the locks? What if he comes?”

“He can’t…”

“I want you! I want you to come sleep with me, with your sword!”

“Me?”

“This couldn’t have happened if you were there!”

He sighed. “You want me to come sleep with you in your bed?”

“Yes!”

It would make it more difficult for him to get out at night to see Wynflaed. But Hilda was his wife. She was frightened, and his little girls were frightened to see her so. He could not refuse her.