Leofric has a message for Matilda

“Son of a serpent!” Leofric beamed. “I remember the first time I let you hold my baby girl – and if you had told me then that one day you would make me a grandfather – and that I would not want to geld you for it – ”

“Oh!” Sigefrith chuckled and folded up the letter he had been reading. “She told you, did she?”

“One could almost guess by looking at the smile on her.” Leofric sat in the chair beside the King’s table and clapped his hands upon his thighs in satisfaction. “Mind you, that smile is the only reason why I don’t want to geld you.”

“I shall kiss it later in gratitude. To what do we owe the honor of your presence, O worthy old grandfather? We haven’t seen much of you these past weeks.”

Leofric shrugged. “I came to see how Dumble-​​Dora was getting on without her worthy old grandfather.”

“And how is she?”

“Eh! She seems to think me only an inferior copy of her father, with more wrinkles and more gray hairs and more candy.”

“Is that why she calls you Old-​​Papa?”

“I think that was Hilda’s idea, the saucy wench that she is. That’s what she calls me now, too.”

“She mocks you to hide the fact that she’s in love with you.”

“I know!” Leofric sighed. “What can I do? She thinks Sigefrith an inferior copy of me, with less hair on his chest and less stamina in his bed. And less candy.”

“It’s the candy that makes the difference. You know that.”

“She is a bit of a dumpling, isn’t she?” he cackled. “Easier to grab as she goes by.”

“Well, I shall kiss Dumble-​​Dora later in gratitude as well. I was beginning to wonder whether I shouldn’t send for you.”

“Why? Need me? Miss me?”

“Both.”

“How may I be of service?” he asked, bowing in his chair. “You have made my daughter a very happy woman. I suppose I owe you a favor.”

“The favor isn’t for me. It’s for… well, I don’t know. Tell me something: When was the last time you saw Matilda?”

“What? Why?”

“Tell me.”

Leofric rubbed his hands nervously over his tunic. “I suppose it was when Brede’s babies were christened.”

“She was still getting out then.”

Leofric shrugged.

“She hasn’t left her room in a week or two. And she hasn’t left her bed since Thursday.”

He waited. Leofric only looked at the floor.

“For her part,” Sigefrith said, “your wife doesn’t believe Matilda will ever leave her bed again.”

“She didn’t tell Alred that, did she?” Leofric growled.

“Of course not.”

Sigefrith waited. Now Leofric stared past him to the shield that hung on the wall.

“I am telling you this because it may be your last chance to end this quarrel of yours.”

“She wouldn’t see me, runt.”

“How do you know if you don’t try? If you haven’t spoken to her since August? If you did speak to her that day. I certainly didn’t see it.”

“She won’t. I assure you.”

“You ought to try, even if you know she won’t. At least she will know you tried.”

Leofric studied the hem of his tunic.

“Are you ever going to tell us what this was about?” Sigefrith asked him.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “Someday, perhaps.”

“Did you insult her father?”

Leofric snorted and smiled to himself. Sigefrith found this to be greatly provoking.

“The baby isn’t due until next month,” he snapped, “but she could die any day. Do you understand that?”

Leofric looked up at him. “I do.” He stood. “For you, for what you have done for my daughter, I would do anything but that. For Matilda, I would do anything. You may tell her that I shall see her if she wishes to see me. Day or night. She has only to send word. I shall come at once. You may tell her that.”

“So, it would seem that you are the one standing in need of forgiveness.”

Leofric lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. “Not from her,” he said after a moment. “But I am at her command.”