Sir Sigefrith makes a confession

Hilda was lying on her bed, as she was ever more often these days. Haakon had even thought to ask his father whether Mama was dying, since Heafoc had told him that his own little mother had spent all of her time in bed before she died.

To look at her, Sigefrith almost wondered himself. She no longer had even the sinister energy that made her seem to throw off sparks in his presence. All the fire had gone out of her.

“How are you feeling, my Hilda?” he asked and came to run a gentle hand over her belly.

“How can you touch it?” she hissed and shoved his hand away.

“Hilda…” he sighed.

“Don’t touch it! Oh, God,” she whimpered, suddenly tremulous. “It won’t stop moving around. It won’t be still. Shall I never have peace again?”

“Hilda,” he said firmly. He sat beside her on the bed and took her hand. She did not yank it away as he had expected. “Hilda, I must tell you something. I know you will hate me for it, but I must tell you the truth now. Will you listen to me?”

“What?” she asked warily. He thought he saw a few sparks behind her eyes now.

“Hilda.” He closed his eyes briefly and reminded himself to breathe deeply from his stomach, as Malcolm had taught him. He remembered to look her in the eyes, as Malcolm had taught him. “I must make a confession to you. It was I who came in to you that night in September.”

Her hand clenched over his own, and he felt her fingernails digging into his fingers.

“I was too ashamed of myself to admit the truth to you,” he said.

“And you were angry at me for making you ask Stein?” she growled. Her nails were cutting into his skin, but he could not afford to protest.

“Please forgive me, Hilda.”

“Did your father put you up to it?” She tossed his hand away and sat up to glare at him with wide eyes. “Was it his idea? Show me what a real man would do?”

“No, Hilda,” Sigefrith said sadly.

“All your own idea, was it? Ah! Just like a real man!”

“I’m so sorry.”

Now her eyes narrowed. She leaned so close to his face that he could not bear it; he had to stand.

She followed him and still tried to shove her face up into his own. “Say it again, Sigefrith,” she growled. “Look me in the eyes and say it again.”

He looked her in the eyes. He remembered that Malcolm had told him to speak slowly, but not too slowly. “I did it,” he said slowly.

She stared at him a moment longer and then she hissed, “Liar!”

“I did… Hilda…”

“Liar! You aren’t heartless enough to do it, and aren’t deceitful enough to lie about it for five months! You can’t even lie to me for five minutes now!”

“Hilda!”

“Whom are you protecting? Your father?”

“No!”

“Whom are you protecting?

“No one! Hilda!”

“Tell me!” she shrieked and stamped her foot. “Who put this idea into your thick head? Whom are you protecting?”

“This baby! You!”

“What?” she gasped.

“I can’t bear to see you so, Hilda. We can’t. The children are frightened. Our friends are worried. And this poor baby didn’t do anything…”

“This poor baby?” she howled. “This – this – this – ”

“This baby. It’s only a little baby, Hilda. It doesn’t know anything of sin. It will be born loving and wanting its mother – ”

“Oh!” She sobbed and fell against him.

“There now, Hilda,” he soothed. It was so much easier not to lie. He stroked her hair slowly. “In a few months the waiting will be over. And if you will want to keep him, we shall say that he is mine, and if you think you can’t bear it, we shall find him a good nurse and a good home. So do you see? There’s no reason to be frightened. What do you think?”

“I think you had better not try to tell people it’s yours,” she squeaked between sobs. “You’re the worst liar I’ve ever known.”