“Oh!” Estrid and Synne cried together as Lady Ragnhild was shown into the hall.
“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Hilda sneered.
“No, it’s – we heard the horse and thought it must have been Murchad,” Synne explained.
“What? Brede hasn’t eaten him yet? Make room,” she commanded, squeezing her rather wide hips onto the bench next to the other young ladies.
“Perhaps that’s why he hasn’t come yet today,” Estrid tittered.
“How are the Gaelic lessons coming?” Hilda asked Synne. “Or is he teaching you something else lately?”
“Still Gaelic,” Synne blushed. “I mean – ”
Hilda laughed. “Tell me he has at least taught you how to kiss already.”
“No! Can you believe it?” Estrid giggled.
“Perhaps he only wanted to skip to the good parts,” Hilda suggested.
“No…” Synne said weakly.
“Well, what’s the matter with him? A man who hasn’t even tried to kiss you by now has something wrong with him, mark my words.”
“You know how Brede is,” Synne said uncomfortably. “He won’t leave us alone for a moment.”
“But Estrid does!” Hilda protested. “Why – ”
“Oh, leave her be, Hilda,” Estrid grumbled. “She has over two years before she can let him do what he wants. So the later he gets started, the better for her.”
“How long did you make Brede wait?” Hilda asked Estrid.
“Shh! Someone’s coming!” Synne whispered frantically, for the great door was being opened again.
“Oh, did I forget to mention that I saw Murchad in the court?” Hilda laughed. “Good day, my lovely!” she called to him as he came meekly into the hall. “Again!”
“Good day,” he bowed to the ladies and came to kiss Estrid’s hand.
“I shall have another,” Hilda said and held out her own broad hand.
Murchad smiled and kissed it.
“So!” Hilda cried and grabbed both of Synne’s hands. “Synn doesn’t have any! What will you kiss now?”
“The ground she walks upon, as I always do,” he said boldly, but he blushed.
Hilda laughed. “I should have thought to hide my own hands! Ah, well. Another opportunity wasted. Take her away, lovely, and we shall tell her brother we watched you the entire time. Kiss what you may! I want to speak Norse to my cousin for a change, and your Gaelic gibbering will ruin my pleasure.”
“And your Norse grumbling will ruin ours,” Synne said. “Let’s go to the kitchen and steal some pie,” she suggested to Murchad.
“She doesn’t dare be alone with him,” Estrid said once they had gone, shaking her head sadly. “Even the cook will do for chaperone.”
“I wonder why?” Hilda mused. “If I had had such a handsome creature at home I never would have bothered with Sigefrith. He’s a rather swarthy young gentleman, but I suppose it helps one see which parts belong to which person in the dark.”
“Are you putting the wrong things in the wrong places with Sigefrith?” Estrid laughed.
“No, we leave a lamp,” Hilda laughed with her.
“How old is baby Blithe now? Aren’t you expecting again already?”
“No! I’ve had enough of that for a while. She will be a year old in May, but I won’t be having another one for December, that’s for certain! Sigefrith can go to hell.”
“Oh, Hilda,” Estrid scolded. “You’re cruel to the poor man.”
“Poor man! ‘Owwww, Hilda, just a little taste!’” she whined, mocking him. “Poor me! Will he never get bored of me? We’ve been married five years.”
“Don’t wish that, Hilda! If he gets bored, it will be with you and not with the deed. He’ll find another woman.”
“And so? Sometimes I almost wish he would, and leave me alone. Mind, I would claw the face off the girl if I ever found out about it, but at least I should have peace in my bed for a while.”
“Tell him to get another wife as his father did.”
“You saw all the good that did Lady Eadgith! Now he took her back in his bed again.”
“But I think she’s happy about it.”
Hilda snorted. “What about you, Puss? Don’t make faces at me! Your babies are well over a year old by now! Have anything to announce?”
“No…”
“Well, why not? Brede been putting his things in the wrong places again?” she laughed. “You need to keep a lamp lit, coz, or dip your man in some dark dye. At least the important parts of him.”
“There’s no hurry,” Estrid muttered. “I’m only seventeen.”
“What’s the hurry? I don’t know. Surely Brede wants a son or two out of you before he’s too old to teach them to fight and hunt and so on.”
“He already has one.”
“A proper son, I mean.”
“What?” Estrid hissed.
“I mean–you know, coz. Daeg is a cute little boy, but…”
“But what?”
“I mean, a man can’t pin his hopes on such a son.”
“Why not?”
“Come, Estrid! I know you love your little boy, but… he’s sailing with a short crew, as my father would say.”
Estrid jumped off of the bench. “What did you say?” she snarled. “You’re saying my son isn’t – isn’t – ”
“But surely you knew,” Hilda said mournfully.
“Bitch!”
“Now, it’s no use being angry at me,” Hilda said. “I only want you all to be happy, coz. I hope your little boy becomes a great man someday.”
“Bitch!”
“Perhaps he will! But you must think of your family, Estrid. Think of your husband, and his name…”
“Bitch!”
“Well!” Hilda huffed and rose. “That’s the last time I ever give you a little cousinly advice.”
“What’s your advice? Have some more babies, because my first one wasn’t good enough?”
“Well…”
“Get out!”
“Certain you don’t care to borrow Sigefrith?” Hilda smiled. “We know he can have clever sons. And it would be doing me a great favor!”
“Get out! Bitch!”