Theobald smiled, remembering.

“When’s the last time we did this, gents?” Alred asked with a sigh of satisfaction after draining another cup.

“The last time I did this, it was my own wedding,” Theobald smiled, remembering.

“I suppose the last time we did was mine, boys,” Sigefrith said. “There’s not enough marrying and giving in marriage in this valley.”

'There's not enough marrying and giving in marriage in this valley.'

Alred, Theobald, Sigefrith, and Cenwulf were foregathered in Alred’s hall, late on the eve of Cenwulf’s wedding. The dinner they had shared among their small nobility had been festive enough, but the four had continued their drinking and their merry-​​making on into the night.

Or at least the three of them had. Cenwulf had continued drinking with the rest of them, but he was not feeling particularly merry.

“We have a few more years yet before we shall begin marrying off our children,” Theobald said, “and I wager none of you would care to hasten that day.”

“Sigefrith would,” Alred said. “He will have no peace of mind until he has seen my daughters safely married to his sons, and vice versa.”

'Sigefrith would.'

“Are you saying that because of any evidence I have given you, or because you believe your children so desirable that it goes without saying that I want them for mine?”

“A little of both, old man. You might have doubts about my sons – I certainly do, God bless their heads – but who wouldn’t want my daughters? They are nearly perfect copies of Matilda.”

'They are nearly perfect copies of Matilda.'

“I shall be sure to warn my sons in advance,” Sigefrith said dryly. “They might not guess they need to go up to their marriage bed armed with sword and buckler.”

“I shall tell my girls to be gentle with them,” Alred giggled. “At least at first. Say, did anyone think to warn Edris about our man here?”

“What about your man?” Cenwulf asked.

'What about your man?'

“I don’t know – I am not acquainted with your habits and customs and do not care to speculate, but remember, the girl doesn’t have a mother or even a maid, and she has spent the last fifteen years in a convent. She may expect to pay off the piper with a kiss, and she will be in for quite a surprise when she sees that thing coming at her.”

Cenwulf paled. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She was a thirty-​​year-​​old woman – it had seemed obvious that she would know. But he had to remember that she was in some ways still the fifteen-​​year-​​old girl he had been supposed to marry.

'I hadn't thought of that.'

“You haven’t thought of anything, have you?” Sigefrith sighed. “Luckily you have us to think for you. I already asked Matilda to talk to her.”

“What?” Alred cried. “You asked Matilda?”

'Whom was I supposed to ask?'

“Whom was I supposed to ask? I can’t ask Maud, Eadgith is… she has… I don’t think her experiences should be used as an example…”

“But Matilda? Jupiter! Are you mad? I wager you a jug of wine right here that the girl is busy upstairs making her a rope out of the sheets and preparing to flee for her life, if Matilda was the one to enlighten her. What does Matilda know except what I taught her?”

'What does Matilda know except what I taught her?'

Sigefrith laughed. “The girl was raised by Cynewulf, Godwin, and Harold! What could you teach her? You were as drunk as a bard’s bitch on your wedding night anyway – it’s a good thing for you that Matilda knew what she was doing.”

“Just because I don’t remember a thing, it doesn’t mean I didn’t do anything!” Alred protested.

“I shall leave the historians to muddle that one out,” Sigefrith laughed.

“Toujours est-​​il, why didn’t you ask Githa, you ninny?”

'Why didn't you ask Githa, you ninny?'

“Githa?” Sigefrith chuckled. “I needed a girl who could tell her something more than when to close her eyes and when to open them again!”

“Theobald, are you going to leave me to defend your wife’s ardor? God, I hope not! Theobald?”

Theobald, who lounged on one of Matilda’s couches like a drunken Roman, was sound asleep.

“Kick him, Cenwulf,” Alred commanded.

The Baron snorted awake.

Cenwulf nudged Theobald with the toe of his boot, and the Baron snorted awake. “Who?” he asked.

“Theobald, my man here is calling your wife a prude.”

'Theobald, my man here is calling your wife a prude.'

“What?” Theobald mumbled. “I hope to God you weren’t saying him nay. I can break your nose a second time.”

“I only meant to give you the opportunity to defend her,” Alred laughed. “This ninny asked Matilda to explain to poor Edris what awaits her tomorrow night. I simply suggested Githa as a more temperate alternative.”

“Are you suggesting that my wife is tamer than yours?”

“I am prepared to wager another jug of wine,” he giggled. “God preserve my cellars.”

'In that case, sir, I apologize for breaking your nose the first time.'

“In that case, sir, I apologize for breaking your nose the first time. You obviously never got within striking distance of my wife.”

“You, my lord Baron, are a pearl. I forgive you for my nose, and commiserate with you for anything of yours your lovely wife might have broken over the years.”

“I would drink with Your Grace to that, if I could remember where I put my cup.”

“It’s under your couch, but anyway I can’t afford the wine. I have probably lost two jugs tonight already.”

'Anyway I can't afford the wine.'

“Cenwulf, smile for us, boy,” Sigefrith said gently. “One would say we mean to bury you tomorrow, and not marry you.”

“She’s a charming girl, old man,” Alred said. “All she wants is to make you happy, and you can go far on that alone.”

'She's a charming girl, old man.'

“If that is all she wants, then I fear she will be disappointed,” Cenwulf said.

“She may succeed if you only let her try. You owe her that much.”

“I hope I do not forget it.”

“Luckily you have us to remind you,” Sigefrith said.

'I hope I do not forget it.'