Matilda Sees What She Should Not

After her meeting with Elfleda, the Duchess couldn’t prevent herself from wondering over what the woman had said. Alred had told her that Elfleda was becoming strange and possibly not quite right in the head… but on the other hand, Alred himself had been behaving strangely lately. Or—

No, it was hard to say. She had been so sick before the baby came, and so tired and busy afterwards, that she felt as if she had hardly seen him. He crept quietly into bed at night and kissed her chastely before rolling over and falling asleep… not that that was unusual, considering her condition, but it gave her little to hang her self-​assurance on.

Anyway, Colburga said that she needed to get up and walk a little. The weather was unseasonably warm… perhaps she could follow a little behind Alred the next morning when he went out. Of course nothing would come of it, but she would get some exercise, and her fears would be laid to rest.

The next day, Matilda lingered at the crossroads after leaving Dunstan at the Hogge farm. She watched her husband walk up the hill towards Bernwald, his swinging stride recognizable even from this distance. Her heart began to pound as he neared the gate at Selwood… where was the Earl this day? Surely he was going to see the Earl.

But when he reached Selwood gate, he turned into it and headed back towards the farmhouse. Matilda swayed and laid her hand against a tree for support. Hadn’t Alred said something about buying Theobald’s black mare? She thought he had decided against it, but perhaps he had changed his mind.

Matilda knew she had no choice now. She had seen enough to leave her in an anguish of doubt, and she felt she would rather know that Alred was unfaithful than live in this uncertainty. She left the tree behind and started up the hill after her husband.

She was panting by the time she reached Selwood gate, partly from exhaustion and partly from fear. There was no sign of Alred or Theobald as she approached the house. The stable behind the pines looked deserted, and the black mare was peacefully grazing in the pasture.

Matilda leaned against a tree, waiting for her heart to slow. She would just have a peek in the window, and if she saw Githa she would knock and ask to come in to visit with her and see wee Athelis. That was all.

The Duchess took her little peek, but what she saw took her breath away.

There stood her husband, naked in Githa Selle’s house—no, he was wearing a loincloth, but—there she was! Behind him, still in her gown, but rubbing her hands sensually up and down his back while he sighed in obvious pleasure.

Matilda was mortified. She had never dreamed—this! She had thought perhaps that they were a little too friendly, that they chatted too long and sighed too often in unison—but never this! Her husband was sleeping with that—with this witch! This viper! This pasty-​skinned, gangly she-​ass with the bones jutting out of her mangy hide! This lice-​ridden wench! This—!

Matilda stepped back from the window, livid, her thoughts in a whirl. She would kill her. By God, she would kill her. But first—she had to get away from this house or she would scream. Or kill them both. By God, she would kill them both. She, Matilda Cynewulfsdotter, the Lady Matilda Cild, the daughter of kings, to be insulted like this! But first—

Matilda lifted her skirts and ran up the road to Bernwald Castle. The Countess would know what to do first.