“They do,” the laird agreed. “I must apologize that my wife cannot join us. She has been ill these past few days, and our daughter too. Margaret is a good mother to our little Fiona, and it is possible she is breeding once again. We are eager for a son.”
“Aye, a man needs an heir for his house and his lands,” Sir Udolf said.
“Your men will sleep in the stables, for my house is small as you can see, but there is a comfortable bedspace for you here in the hall,” the laird told his guest.
Iver came to say that the meal was about to be served, and so the two men took their goblets and moved to the high board. Sir Udolf was frankly surprised by the quality of the meal he was offered. It was simple but tasty and well prepared. First came a platter of fish that had been poached in white wine. Trout from his own streams, the laird told him. He had royal permission to take both trout and salmon from the waters running across his lands.
Again Sir Udolf was surprised. “How did you gain such permission?” he asked.
“The late king, James II, and I were friends,” the laird answered truthfully. “Our kings in Scotland are more apt to make friends of humble border lords like myself than your English kings with their fine courts.”
Sir Udolf nodded. It was a known truth, but he was still impressed. Nonetheless his attentions were quickly turned to a fat capon that had been roasted crisp and golden along with a tasty venison stew. “You keep a fine table,” he complimented the laird as he filled his trencher with the stew and a quarter of the capon.
“I shall tell my Margaret of your praise. It will give her pleasure,” Malcolm Scott said. He could not under the circumstances call his wife by her first name, but he knew it would seem odd to Sir Udolf if his wife was not referred to by name. So he had taken her saint’s name instead. Margot was a French diminutive of Margaret, and Margaret was not only Scotland’s saint, but it was also a popular name.
Sir Udolf reached for the cottage loaf and tore off a piece. He cut himself a chunk of the half wheel of cheese upon the board. “You have a good wife,” he noted as he filled his belly. He was hungry, and it had been a long time since he had enjoyed such a fine meal. A man with a good cook and a wife who knew how to direct that cook was a fortunate man indeed.
The meal finished, the laird invited Sir Udolf to play a game of chess with him. The two men played for two hours, and then Malcolm Scott arose from the game table.
“I will leave you, my lord,” he said. “My housekeeper, Fenella, will show you to your sleeping space. I shall see you on the morrow. Good night.” He bowed to his guest.
“Good night, my lord, and thank you,” Sir Udolf replied, returning the bow.
The laird hurried from the hall and upstairs to the bedchamber he now shared with his wife. She was standing by the hearth warming her hands as he entered.
“Is he gone?” Alix asked, turning to face him.
“He’s sleeping in the hall and will be gone on the morrow,” her husband answered her. Then he took her into his arms. “Dinna fear, lassie. He’s just about ready to give up his search for you. But you know he went to your queen, dispensation in hand, to gain her permission to wed you.”
“And brought her a bag of coins to ease her conscience,” Alix said bitterly. Then she sighed. “Poor queen. She is desperate by now, I imagine. It has been over two years since they departed England. The new king must be well established by now. I wonder that my queen, the prince, and the poor king do not go to France. It would seem they have few if any adherents left in England, and while Scotland lets them shelter here they will offer no aid. Queen Marie must consider her son’s position in all of this. She has offered Scotland’s friendship to the English.”
“Which has given us a respite here in the borders,” Malcolm Scott said. “I have never known it to be so peaceful.”
“You are certain he suspects naught?” Alix asked nervously.
“I apologized that my wife,
Margaret
, was unable to entertain him, but alas she was ill, and our daughter too, and my wife might even be breeding again.”
“Might I?” Alix said with a smile.
“Well, if you are certain you are not, madame, then we must immediately get to work to remedy that and ensure I am not a liar,” the laird teased Alix.
She laughed happily. “I do love you so very much, Colm,” she told him. “I could have never wed Sir Udolf even if I wasn’t repelled by what he proposed. How does he look? Is he well? I wish him no ill.”
“He looks tired,” the laird said. “And sad. He is, as you have always said, a decent man. I enjoyed his company, but I hope I have discouraged him from seeking you further, lambkin. He certainly is not young, but he is not too old to sire a child. There must be some woman of respectable blood who would have him.”
“Now that Hayle is gone, aye, there should be,” Alix agreed. “I wish him luck, but I must admit I will be relieved to see him go on the morrow.”
And in the morning after he had eaten a most delicious breakfast, Sir Udolf Watteson bid his host farewell and departed Dunglais. As he rode away from the keep, his captain, who rode at his side, said, “She is there, my lord.”
“You are certain?” Sir Udolf said quietly.
“Aye, I am. I made an assignation with one of the maidservants who served below the board. After we had enjoyed a lusty bout in the hayloft of the stables we talked. I asked about the laird’s wife. Was she a Scot? Nay, the girl told me. She was English, but everyone loved her, particularly the laird’s little daughter. She said the laird’s people found her almost frozen to death upon the moor two years ago. He had taken her in as his daughter’s companion but then made her his mistress. Several months ago they wed, the wench said. Her lady’s name is Alix, my lord.”
“Their marriage cannot be legal,” Sir Udolf said angrily. “She was already my betrothed wife, and I will have her back!”
“Will we return to Dunglais now?” the captain asked his master.
“Nay. We will go home while I decide what it is I will do. If I am clever as this laird has been, I can regain my Alix and he will never know it,” Sir Udolf chuckled. And when they reached Wulfborn Hall its master sat in his hall and considered what he should do. He spoke with his priest.
“Your claim is the legitimate one, my lord,” Father Peter said. “And you have the permission of the lady’s former guardian, Queen Margaret.”
“Then I shall take her back!” Sir Udolf said determinedly.
“Yet, my lord, you must consider if you would have her back. Did she not betray you by fleeing Wulfborn? And did she not spread herself for another man? Is this truly the kind of woman you wish to wed? There are at least two women of good birth nearby who would be happy to be your wife, my lord. Women of good character and strong moral fiber.”
“But are they young enough yet to give me a son?” Sir Udolf demanded of his priest. “Nay, they are not, and I know it, Father. I must have a son!”
“Your sister’s second son would make you a fine heir, my lord,” the priest said.
“Nay! I want my own son, and Alix can give me that son. You say my claim takes precedence over any other. Then I will have her back!”
“But how, my lord?
How?
” the priest wanted to know. “I do not believe the laird will give her up to you. Certainly he loves her or he would not have married her.”
“He has forced her into this marriage, I am certain of it!” Sir Udolf said. “He needed a mother for his daughter. He wants a son of his own. He cannot love her.”
“Do you, my lord?” the priest asked candidly.
“She belongs to me,” Sir Udolf said. “She is mine, and as she lives, I shall have her! The church will uphold my claim. Queen Margaret will uphold my rights.”
The priest sighed. It was not that he disagreed with Sir Udolf, but the woman he so desperately desired had run away from him and then given herself to another man. “How, my lord,” he repeated, “will you regain the lady? The Laird of Dunglais will not give her up without a fight.”
“My captain has found me a group of renegade Scots. They will take the lady when she is out riding one day. It will appear to be a border raid, and I shall not be involved in the matter at all. The naked and disfigured body of a young woman will be found and assumed to be the laird’s woman. He will never look for her after that body is found, and Alix will be mine as the archbishopric at York has said.”
“My lord, you propose the murder of an innocent!” the priest cried, shocked.
“I will have my betrothed wife returned, Priest, and it matters not to me how it is done. I shall not be involved,” Sir Udolf said coldly.
“My lord, I believe you have gone mad with your lust for this woman. I shall pray you see the wrong before you allow it to be committed,” Father Peter declared.
“If he does not believe her dead,” Sir Udolf replied stubbornly, “he will seek her out and eventually he will come to Wulfborn. What I propose to have done is for both of their sakes. If he believes her dead, he will mourn her and move on with his life. If she knows he thinks her dead, she will reconcile herself to her fate as my wife. She will give me another son to replace the one who died.”
“Your son visited her almost every night of their marriage, yet she did not conceive,” the priest pointed out to his master. “Perhaps she is unable to conceive, my lord. Have you considered that her womb is a barren one? Her own mother bore but one child, and a female at that. Will you risk your immortal soul in this matter, knowing the murder of an innocent is to be committed so you may take this woman back? And do you think God will reward you with a son for it?” the priest wanted to know.
“Alix Givet is mine by all rights,” Sir Udolf responded. “It was God who brought her to us. It was God who gave me the idea to make her my wife after my son died. It is God who got me the dispensation from the archbishop at York. God will return Alix to me, and he will see I have another son on her body.”
The priest shook his head. Sir Udolf was mad. It was a madness that came from believing he was right and that God was on his side. But he was not right, and God would certainly punish the baron for what he was about to allow done so that he might regain Alix Givet. The wench was not worth it.
But what can I do to stop my master?
the priest asked himself. When an answer was not immediately forthcoming, he decided to pray. God would certainly give him a resolution to this problem if he prayed hard enough. He might have sent to the Laird of Dunglais warning him, but Father Peter did not. He might not approve of his master’s actions, but he would never betray him.
Chapter 10
The summer came, and at Lamastide Alix knew she was with child. Fenella confirmed it, smiling. The two women hugged each other and, seeing it, Iver asked Fenella afterwards, “Why were you embracing our mistress?”
“You will know soon enough,” Fenella chortled, “but first the laird must know.”
“Woman, you have as good told me our mistress is with child,” Iver said.
Fenella clapped her hands over her mouth, but then, removing them, said, “I have told you naught! And do not dare to say I did.”
The steward grinned at her. “I know how to keep a secret,” he replied. “You need not worry about me. It is the laird who will announce this happy news to all of Dunglais after she has told him. I will say nothing, and you had best stop being so smug because you have the confidence of our mistress.”
Alix sought for her husband and found him at the keep’s smithy talking with the blacksmith. He had recently found his cattle herd increased by several beasts, and they had no markings on them. He wanted them marked with the Dunglais D so if they wandered again he could find them. He had waited the summer long for someone to come and claim them, but no one had. She waited while he discussed the matter, and when he had finished he turned to her, smiling.
“Why have you sought me, lambkin?” he asked her, taking her hand and walking from the smithy. “Have you missed me this day?” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the palm tenderly.
“I have news I believe you would want to hear,” Alix told him almost shyly. “I am with child, Colm. Come late winter, with God’s blessing, I shall give you a child.”
The laird gave a joyous whoop, and picking Alix up, he swung her about. “A child!” he exclaimed happily. “We are to have a child!” Then he kissed her hard. “Thank you, my darling lambkin! Thank you!”
“You want a son,” Alix said as he set her down upon her feet again. “I hope it is, but it could also be a darling little girl like our Fiona.”
He sighed. “Aye, I find I am like other men after all,” he admitted. “I do want a son, but should it be another daughter I will be content, Wife.”
Alix glanced about the courtyard at the curious faces of the men-at-arms. “We must tell Fiona before you announce it to the hall,” she said.
“You are certain?” he asked her anxiously.
Alix nodded. “Aye, and Fenella concurs. I have had no show of blood since the end of May, my lord. And my breasts are growing fuller and I am suddenly always craving cheese.”
“You always loved cheese,” he noted.
“But not like this, my lord. I sat at the high board after you had left it this morning and ate cheese until Fenella finally took it away from me,” Alix told him. “She says there is no doubt I am with child.”
“Do you know when?”
“We think sometime in late February or early March,” Alix said.
They entered the house to seek out Fiona. They found her playing with her cat in the hall. Both the little girl and the creature were enjoying themselves as Fiona pulled a piece of yarn to which was tied a rag and the cat pounced and wrestled with the toy. She looked up as her father and stepmother came into her view. “Bannerette likes to play with me,” she announced to them. “She is more fun than her mother ever was.”
“Her mother is older, and older cats do not play as much,” Alix said. “Come, Fi, and sit with us. Your father and I have something to tell you.”