Matilda ponders the fleetingness of a man's affections

Matilda returned Margaret to her cradle and stretched out on the bed again, leaving the candle lit. She listened to the girl root around in her blankets a while until she fell asleep.

But Matilda could not sleep. She had been so wide awake that it had been she to wake Margaret, looking for a distraction. The baby had not been hungry, but she had dutifully nursed a while.

Alred already had her drinking goat milk from a cup. He fully intended Margaret to be their last child, and yet he seemed to be trying to wean her away from her mother so soon!

Still, he was her father, and Margaret was his daughter, and she knew what that could mean. She wondered whether her mother would have been jealous of her relationship with her father if she had lived. But how could she compare? Matilda had three other children, and Matilda was a grown woman besides – her mother had been only sixteen when she died.

About the same age as that Leila girl, she thought with a scowl.

“Oh, Matilda, how long have you been lying there looking beautiful like that?” Alred asked sleepily.

“I just fed Margaret.”

“Did she wake?” he asked, sitting up to try to look over into the cradle. “I never heard her.”

“No, I woke her. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Matilda, dear, I think you have things backwards. It’s the babies are supposed to wake the Mamas.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But she doesn’t wake me any longer. She’s growing up so fast.”

“That’s true, but she is getting more precious every day, so one would rather hate to stop her. Is that why you can’t sleep? Pondering the fleetingness of baby girls?”

“No. In fact I was pondering the fleetingness of a man’s affections.”

“Matilda! What have I done now?”

“Not your affections, silly man. I was thinking of Leofric.”

“Leofric? But he loves you still, darling. I saw the way he kissed your hand!”

“Oh, Alred, be serious for once. I am thinking about poor Eadgith.”

“Ah. That’s a different problem.”

“Well? Did Leofric forget all about her?”

“I don’t think he forgot her exactly, dear. But he was seven years away, in a foreign land, with no hope of getting home again.”

“And? Would you forget me if you were seven years away in a foreign land?”

“Matilda,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders, “it’s not fair to ask of any man that he love his wife as I love you.”

“But didn’t he love her at all? He swore a vow, Alred. There is his honor, as well.”

“My dear, you are seeing things in an uncharacteristically feminine light. You know that Leofric didn’t marry Eadgith simply because he was hopelessly in love with her. I believe there were kinship ties, questions of land and money, and so forth. One would have to ask Sigefrith – although I hope you won’t.”

“So what now? Because he was away for a few years, he is allowed to forget about his wife and his children – his children, Alred! – and marry some infidel girl?”

Alred sighed. “I will admit it is an unfortunate situation, dear. But you know, he married her in Denmark. And his grandmother was a Danish princess, remember.”

“Well, so was Sigefrith’s, but you don’t see him marrying slave girls.”

“Matilda! She is no slave girl.”

“She’s a Saracen.”

“She has been baptized, Matilda. She had no choice of parents, nor the color they were.”

“No, but Leofric had a choice in marrying her.”

“Oh, Matilda!” he sighed, falling back onto his pillow.

“I shan’t receive her.”

“You most certainly shall. She’s his wife by Danish law. You weren’t too fine a lady for Harold’s Eadgith, were you? And Leila is not a slave, and she is a Christian now. What more do you want, Matilda?”

“I want Leofric to send her back to her Saracen father and bring Eadgith here.”

“Eadgith may be dead for all we know! Or married again!”

“That would be worse! That would mean she has been living in sin with that man while her husband still lives!”

“Then it is clear that it would be best for everyone if we let her believe that Leofric died eight years ago, and let Leofric have his new life with his new wife.”

“But what if she isn’t married, what then? She is nothing but the widow of an English knight, and she doesn’t even have Lord Hwala’s protection. Doesn’t Sigefrith have some kind of duty to her and her children? She could be living in poverty.”

“Perhaps Sigefrith does, perhaps Leofric does, but you don’t, my dear.”

“I do. She was my friend.”

“She was Colburga’s friend.”

“She was my friend too. I think we should try to find her.”

“Oh, no! Oh, no! Don’t sharpen your quill just yet, my lady. If you feel you must meddle in other people’s affairs, I insist that you talk to Sigefrith first. He knows Eadgith and Leofric far better than you or I do. He knows the circumstances under which they were married. And he is their lord – not I, not you. If anything is to be done, it is Sigefrith will do it. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Jupiter! That was not worth waking up for.”

“I think you and Sigefrith have simply had your heads turned by that exotic desert woman,” she sniffed.

“Now that is uncharacteristically feminine of you!” Alred laughed, leaping on her. “You? Jealous? I thought you thought yourself above all women?”

“Oh, Alred,” she sighed playfully. “Maud told me I was looking old and green and out of style today.”

“Don’t tell me you listen to Maud’s opinions now? You know she sharpens her tongue on a stone and greases it with bile every morning.”

“But I am getting old, you know.”

“Then you are getting more woman-​​like in your old age, my beloved. You have been reduced to begging compliments, as if I didn’t give you enough! I assure you, Matilda, that like your daughter, you only get more precious by the day. Now come here and be something worth waking up for.”