'I know you would not, and I do not disagree that you need another wife, my lord,' Alix said. 'But you cannot have me. I am already a wife to the Laird of Dunglais, and soon to be a mother to my husband's son. Let me go, and find yourself another. I am certain there is a family hereabouts who has an eligible daughter. I know you have not spoken to your neighbors in years, but now would be a good time to renew your acquaintance with them. We are all at peace with one another.'
Before he might answer her, a serving man ran into the hall. 'My lord! My lord! The Scots are burning the village! They are driving off the people and your sheep!'
For a moment Sir Udolf looked befuddled and bemused. Then he cried, 'This savage whose bastard you carry has done this! He will never have you back!
'You have brought this upon yourself!' Alix told him angrily, coming quickly to her feet. 'If you had returned me to him when the laird asked you, we could have gone home. My husband would have left you in peace. This is his answer to your intractability, my lord. You wish to blame someone for this misfortune? Blame yourself!' Then she pierced him with a hard look. 'And if I have the misfortune to still be at Wulfborn when my son is born, I give you fair warning. Make one move towards him, and I will kill you myself! You are mad to believe I would allow you to harm my child.' And turning on her heel, she left the hall while behind her the few servants stared open-mouthed at Alix's outburst.
Sir Udolf Watteson sat down heavily, remaining silent and still for several long minutes. Finally he stood up, and climbing to the top of his house, opened the shutters on the very window from which his son had hurled himself. Looking out he saw his village burning merrily and heard the faint cries of the wounded. His flock of sheep was gone from the hillside, as was the shepherd and his dog. His few cattle, however, remained. Of the Scots there was no trace now but for the destruction they left in their wake. He sighed as he drew the shutter closed and returned to his hall.
None of it mattered. Some of his villagers would have escaped the borderers. They would return to rebuild the village, and it would be the same as it had ever been. He would take the cattle to the final cattle fair of the year while they were still healthy with their summer grazing. In the spring he would purchase another flock of sheep with the monies he had gained from the cattle sale. He would have no livestock to feed over the winter months, he thought, pleased with his own cleverness.
And best of all Alix Givet was still his. While her strong will was pleasing on one hand, for it indicated the kind of sons she would give him, on the other hand it was not at all agreeable. He would have to beat her regularly in order to keep her in line. It was imperative a wife maintain her place in the order of things. A man could not be overruled in his own house, but then, and he smiled to himself, she was young. Once she understood what was expected of her he was certain she would become a model spouse. Alix was intelligent, and no one could call her a fool despite her stubborn insistence that she loved the Scot whose child she carried.
Alix did not come out of her chamber after that, much to Sir Udolf's dismay. She did give orders from her self- imposed isolation that the hall was to be cleaned. She instructed the cook and his staff what to serve so that Wulfborn Hall once more became a pleasant habitation. But he did not see her, and she kept her chamber door barred to him. Only Bab was permitted admittance, and to Sir Udolf's surprise Bab became devoted to Alix. He considered denying her food and drink. Perhaps she would miscarry her bastard, and the connection she seemed to have with the laird would be severed. But Sir Udolf suspected if he did that his servants would see she wasn't fed and bring liquid refreshment.
Father Peter had escaped the conflagration that had engulfed the village along with some elderly villagers who had fled to the church for sanctuary. Sir Udolf knew they had been left in peace because the elderly were of little value. The priest made plain his disapproval of the master of Wulfborn's actions. 'No woman,' he told Sir Udolf sternly, 'is worth the misery and destruction you have allowed.'
'She is mine by right,' the baron muttered.
'You are ensorcelled,' the priest responded.
'Yet you went to York for me,' Sir Udolf snapped. 'Thrice!'
'Because you would not listen to reason,' the priest said. 'When I returned that first time and learned Mistress Alix was gone, I told you to look elsewhere, but nay, you would not. When my contact in York wrote that more coins were needed for God's work in order to make your dispensation a reality, I warned you to cease your foolishness and seek elsewhere for another wife.'
'Were those at Yorkminster going to return my offering?' the baron demanded.
'Of course not!' the priest said irritably. 'You gave it for God's work.'
'I gave it to get my dispensation to marry Alix Givet. God's work indeed! We both know my coins went into the pocket of he to whom you gave it,' Sir Udolf said.
'You might have had another to wife by now. I would have sought for another good woman of childbearing age for you among our neighbors' families if you had but asked me. And with God's blessing that wife might have proved fecund, ripening now with a son for you as Mistress Alix ripens with her husband's child, my lord.'
'He is not her husband! Do not call that Scots savage her husband, Priest!'
'I will know if he is her lawful husband, as she claims, once I have spoken to her again,' the priest told his master. 'Where is the lady?'
'In her chamber,' Sir Udolf said irritably. 'She has been there since the Scots burned the village. She will not come out, and only Bab is permitted her company.'
'I can see, however, that her influence has extended into your hall, for it is clean again as it has not been in months. And your table has been most tasty these past few days,' Father Peter remarked dryly.
'Go and seek her out, then,' the baron said. 'And remind her of her proper duties as my wife and lady of Wulfborn.' Then Sir Udolf held out the large goblet in his hand to be refilled, and a servant jumped swiftly to do his master's bidding.
The priest arose from the high board, where they had both been sitting. Familiar with the house, he found his way quickly to Alix's bedchamber and knocked upon the door. A voice within inquired as to his identity, and he answered, 'Father Peter. I wish to speak with Mistress Alix.'
'Are you alone?' He now recognized Bab's voice.
'I am, God's word upon it,' Father Peter replied. He heard the heavy wooden bar being lifted from its brackets and then the iron key being turned in the lock. The door opened and he stepped quickly inside. At once he noticed the door was relocked and the bar replaced into its supports.
Alix sat by the small hearth in the room. It was burning merrily, and there was a large stack of wood on the wall next to it. A small iron pot hung from an iron arm that could be swung over the flame or not. The bed with its hanging curtains was neatly made, and the shutters at the window were closed, a drapery pulled across to shield it and keep out any draft that got through the shutters.
'Come, and sit down, Father Peter,' Alix invited him.
There was a chair on the opposite side of the hearth from the settle where Alix now resided. Bab sat next to her, sewing a tiny garment. The priest found the situation most pleasant and normal. He sat down and then leaned forward to speak to her.
'Will you swear upon the good and faithful souls of your deceased parents now in purgatory to answer my questions honestly, Mistress Alix?' Father Peter asked quietly.
'I will,' Alix replied, and she kissed the crucifix he held out to her.
'Were you married in God's church and under God's law?' the priest asked.
'The marriage contract between myself and the Laird of Dunglais was drawn up by Father Donald, the keep's priest. It was signed in the great hall beneath his eye and witnessed by the laird's uncle, Robert Ferguson of Drumcairn, and his wife, Margaret. We then went to the keep's chapel, where our marriage was blessed and a Mass held to celebrate the event.'
'But was the marriage you entered into an honest and valid one, my daughter?' Father Peter inquired. 'Was he fully apprised of your past?'
'He was. I held nothing back, Good Priest,' Alix said candidly. 'That is why when Sir Udolf came to Dunglais Keep several months back my husband kept me hidden. He wanted no difficulties with Sir Udolf.'
'But you know, and if you are being honest with me, your husband knew Sir Udolf had sought a dispensation. And when he came to your home he said he had obtained that dispensation. Is that not so, my daughter?'
'It is,' Alix replied. 'But Father Donald had told us the bishop of St. Andrew's would have never upheld such a
