Sigefrith paused in the doorway of his daughter’s room. Was it possible that he was going to leave them again? He had talked plans with Cenwulf so long that he had expected to continue the conversation upstairs with Maud. But he hadn’t the heart to tell her tonight. Only five nights!
“Is she still awake?” he asked gently as he came in.
“We were waiting for you. Both of us.”
Sigefrith still couldn’t believe how his daughter had changed. He had scarcely seen her grow up: she had been a helpless baby when he left for Ely, and he had only seen her for a month at the end of last year to get used to the idea of her as a walking—and now talking—child. Only five more days!
“Let’s see her then,” he said, taking her from Maud’s arms. “Did you miss your father, my princess?”
Britamund smiled shyly.
“She hardly knows me,” he said to himself.
“You have only yourself to blame,” Maud said.
“Myself and the march of the world,” he replied. “It’s time for all little girls to go to bed, don’t you know?” he asked Britamund. “And their mamas too.”
“I’ll go get undressed,” Maud said and strolled lazily into the bedroom.
Sigefrith stared into the little face that looked so terribly like Maud’s. He suddenly realized that he was tired. He was thirty years old, and he was still spending more nights under the stars than in his bed with his wife. When he was twenty and galloping all over England with young Sir Alred under Earl Harold’s banner, it had seemed like the only life worth leading. Now—he was tired.
“Good night, Princess,” he said as he deposited Britamund in her bed and kissed her round cheek.
The little girl only smiled.
“That was quick, Maud,” he said as he came out and found his wife waiting for him, seated on the edge of the bed. She had not bothered to put on a gown. He could see her cheek curve into a smile, though she did not lift her head.
He undressed hurriedly; he had already seen his wife that afternoon, but in his head he kept repeating, “Five more nights!”
He pulled her to her feet and grinned at her. She pretended to pout, but even Maud was not a match for that smile.
“I know you missed me,” he announced. “But not half as much as I missed you.”
“You have only yourself to blame,” she repeated.
“Never mind, I’m home now,” he said, pulling her onto the bed.
He tried to kiss her, but Maud pulled away.
“Wait a moment,” she said. “I haven’t forgiven you yet.”
“What will that take?” he asked playfully.
“I don’t know,” she smiled. “You’ll have to do something for me.”
“All right, what then?” His wife was not the most imaginative lady he had known, but she had had three months in which to imagine. He thought this might be interesting, at least judging by the way she was tracing circles over the muscles in his arm with her fingertip.
“I don’t know…” she purred.
“Well, you think about that for a while and let me know when you come up with something,” he said as he pushed her down onto the bed and kissed her.
“Wait!” she said after a moment, pushing him away.
“Think of something?” he asked.
“Yes, but—oh, no, it’s not enough,” she laughed.
“Why don’t you let me get started on that and you can think of something else in the meantime?” he suggested.
“All right then. For now you can just… kiss me here,” she said, tapping her finger behind her ear.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” he asked.
But a few minutes later she pushed him away again. “Wait, wait!”
“Ach, Maud, you’re killing me. This is penance enough.”
“I thought of something else,” she said with an alluring smile. “But I don’t know whether you will want to do that.”
“I may surprise you. Anything you like.”
“Then promise me you won’t go away again.”
Sigefrith sat up.
“You were planning this all along,” he said angrily. “Wait until I’m in no condition to refuse you anything, and then spring this on me. That’s no way to treat a man!”
Maud scowled. “I knew it! You’re already planning to leave again. And you didn’t tell me! When were you planning to tell me?”
“I simply wanted to have this night with you without—without all this drama. You see why?”
“That’s selfish isn’t it?” she snapped. “That’s no way to treat a woman!”
“So you suggest that when I must make you unhappy, I do it as soon as possible?”
Maud stood up. “Why wait?” she asked. “I know you like nothing better!”
Sigefrith climbed over the bed and stood facing her.
“Don’t be absurd, woman! I don’t enjoy making you unhappy. I don’t enjoy making anyone unhappy, least of all you!”
“That’s not true,” she said. “You care more about Alred. You care more about Matilda. You care more about Cenwulf. You care more about Egelric. You care about everyone else before you begin to care about me and your children. If you cared about us, you—”
“I am responsible for those people!”
“If you cared about us,” she cried louder than he, “you would take us to—to Denmark or someplace, where we could live in peace!”
“Denmark? Who is talking about Denmark?”
“Matilda said the King of Denmark is your cousin.”
“He is, but—”
“And some of your other cousins are there.”
“Yes, but—”
“And she said that if we have to leave here you will probably take us to Denmark. So let’s go! We have to leave. It isn’t safe here. Not if you have to go out and fight losing battles every few months.”
“We can’t give up now,” he said quietly. “We still have a chance.”
“A chance! Also a chance that you will die! And then what?”
“Maud,” he began gently, “I wish I knew how to explain it to you. If you don’t already understand, I don’t think you ever can.”
“No. No. I can’t understand how the possibility of replacing a Norman king with a Hungarian king is worth dying over, when your own family is not worth living over. How can anything be more important than your family, Sigefrith?”
How could he explain it to her? “My father and my father’s father are also my family.”
“They’re dead!”
“My grandsons and great-grandsons are also my family. If you can’t see that…”
“No, I can’t see that. I’m just a country farmer’s daughter and I’ll never be a noble lady, and that’s all. Matilda doesn’t care if Alred dies. Colburga doesn’t—”
“Take back those words! What’s the matter with you? Matilda is your friend!”
“All Matilda cares about is getting back to court,” Maud hissed. “She doesn’t care who dies along the way—whether that’s her husband or whether that’s you.”
“Maud,” he said, growing angry. “I have known Matilda and Alred for ten years, and I have never known a couple as much in love as those two.”
“Is that why Alred stripped down in front of Githa Selle? Is that why Matilda spends her days with Egelric Wode—”
“Maud!”
Sigefrith turned and paced across the room, trembling. When had she grown mean-spirited? Is this what Alred meant about his wife’s tongue? What had he missed these past months?
“I’m sleeping in Caedwulf’s room,” she said suddenly, and he turned to see her grab a shift and run out of the room, slamming the door behind her.