Sophie gets a lesson

“Soph,” Leofwine said.

“Leof.” Sophie did not look away from the mirror.

“You seen that baby yet?”

“I was just in there with him.”

“He recognize you?”

“Quit it, Leof. I don’t feel like arguing with you tonight.”

“You even miss him? Because he missed you.”

“How do you know? He’s not even seven months old.”

“Because I know my son. Why don’t you just admit you didn’t miss him?”

“I did miss him,” Sophie grumbled. “Just quit it. I can’t help it if it snowed too much for me to get home.”

“You can help it by not running around all the time. Know any other mothers of six-​month-​old babies who are at home as rarely as you?”

“I don’t know any others who have to live here,” she muttered to herself.

“What’s that?” he barked.

“I said I don’t.”

“Right.”

He came lumbering up to her and laid a hand on her hip.

“Miss me?” he asked.

Sophie shoved him away with all her strength, and he was startled enough that it had an effect.

“Don’t touch me!”

“What did you say?”

“Don’t touch me. That’s over.”

“What?”

His face was growing red with anger, and Sophie had seen the massive bruise on Ana’s shoulder, but she was bold and strong, and she had always had her way—even when she did not want it.

“Don’t touch me, I said. You shall not touch me again.”

“Wife!”

“Yes, yes, husband!” she sneered. “That’s over. I found out what you did when I was out ‘running around.’”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He glared at her with the lowering fury of a man who knows he has done wrong and who is prepared to deny it in the face of any proof.

“Notice I showed up here alone? Notice Ana didn’t come after all? Well, guess why!”

“What did she tell you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. Eadwyn had to tell me so I would quit pestering her to come.”

“What in the hell did he tell you! That liar!”

“‘Unwelcome advances’ was the term he used, but I saw the bruise on her shoulder.”

“She fell against the mantle.”

“Right! That’s it, Leof! That’s the end. I know that you have applied the backs of every maid in this house to this bed, but I will not tolerate you making ‘unwelcome advances’ to my friends. Ladies! And you may consider that your ‘advances’ are now ‘unwelcome’ in my regard, as well.”

“Because you are a lady!”

“That’s right!”

“Lady Sophie of Engern,” he sneered, “granddaughter of the baron, Lady High-​and-​Mighty! Oh, no, my Princess. In this house, I am lord.”

“And all the maids of the house are yours, my lord! But not I!”

He drew back his hand and slapped her without comment. It was not the first time he had slapped her, but there was such force behind this slap that it seemed more of an open-​handed punch, and she felt a jolt of pain where her neck connected to her skull. She could well imagine how Ana might have “fallen” against the mantle.

“Knave!”

“Get undressed and get in the bed,” he commanded, giving her a shove in that direction to help her along. “If you won’t nurse my son, you can bear me another. And your running days are over.”

Without thinking, she protested, “I’m invited to Lili’s after Epiphany,” as if this simple fact could cause him to relent.

“You’re going to stay here,” he thundered, “if I have to break your legs to keep you here!”

She had never seen him so intimidating. But then she had never before protested against his “advances,” unwelcome though they were; nor his adventures with the maids, though he must have thought her an idiot if he had believed she didn’t know.

“Is that how it’s going to be now?” she muttered.

“That’s how it’s going to be!” he echoed, seeming pleased with the formula.

She turned away from him and growled to herself, “Reptile!”

“What’s that?”

He grabbed her arm and spun her around to smack her with the back of his hand.

“Swine!”

He smacked her with his palm. “Keep it up, if you can! My arm won’t be tired for a while!”

Her lips twisted from her sheer hatred of him, as if his existence were something repulsive she wished she could spit out for once and all. She did not know any English words vile enough for him.

“Hurensohn!” she snarled.

He shoved her towards the bed. “What did you call me?”

“Hurensohn! Arschloch!”

He slapped her again. “Saxon slut!”

“You are calling me a slut!”

“Don’t pretend I was your first!”

“No, but you are quite the worst!”

This time he did not do her the favor of slapping her with an open hand. He punched her with his fist, as if she were a man, as she had never been hit before.

Her teeth clacked against her teeth, her head snapped back and jerked painfully on her spine, and the arm that flew out in a futile attempt to stop her fall only smacked against the candlestick behind her and sent it clattering onto the floor near her head, extinguishing the candle.

Leofwine kicked it across the room and growled, “Get up, Sophie.”

Sophie dared not so much as breathe.

“Get up, Soph. Don’t play dead with me, or I’ll be tempted to bury you alive.”

If he had shouted his threat, she might not have taken it seriously. Instead he spoke with the calm gravity of a man who meant what he said.

“If I am feeling merciful,” he said, “I may snap your neck to be certain.”

Sophie lifted her head, and he thumped onto one knee beside her.

“You see?” he crooned. “You’re not dead after all. That’s a good girl. Now let it be a lesson to you. When I say ‘Get in the bed,’ you get in the bed.”

She had always thought him too cowardly for this. He was one to threaten, but she had not thought he would be one to strike her down. She had not thought he had done more than make “advances” towards Ana, but now she wasn’t sure.

“Now,” he whispered, “I say: Get in the bed. What will Lady Sophie do?”

Lady Sophie was too petrified to do anything. The door to her infant son’s room was only inches from her face. Never had she loved him more, realizing now how trapped and helpless they both were in this house, over which Leofwine was lord.

Leofwine grabbed a fistful of her thick hair and yanked her head back as far as the curve of her neck would allow. Her shoulders burned with the strain of it.

“What will you do?” he asked.

“I shall get in the bed,” she croaked past the constriction of her throat.

“Very good. Maybe if you obey me the next time, we won’t have to repeat this lesson.”

He rose slowly and stood looming over her.

She rose even more slowly, trying to think. Should she get the baby and risk him hurting the both of them? Should she run for the other door and pray that he not hurt the baby to punish her? It never entered her mind to do what he asked.

He saw her hesitation and decided for her. He picked her up as easily as one of the barrels he lifted to show off his strength—more easily, perhaps, since her body was soft and slender and easier to grasp—and he tossed her onto the bed.

“Get used to it Sophie,” he said, laughing grimly as he crawled onto the mattress after her. “That’s the way it’s going to be.”