"Call you?" Bab laughed harshly. "Why would we call you? You hated our Maida. Why would you help her? She was the lass your husband loved. You probably wanted her dead. Her sister, Nora, says you made a wicked face as you passed the cottage yesterday. Did you spell our Maida?"
"I stuck my tongue out at the brat," Alix said. "She looked rudely at me."
"He's mad with grief," Bab said. "Aye, he is."
"I am sorry," Alix replied, not knowing what else to say. She had seen Maida several times, but she had never spoken a word to her, nor had the girl addressed her. As for Hayle, he would undoubtedly find another girl to love, for like any child who loses a toy he would want it replaced. It would not, Alix knew, be her, but maybe before he found another she might soften his heart long enough to conceive a child. And it would not be done in the dark. She would have no more of that foolishness, Alix decided. As soon as Hayle's grief had eased, she would cease taking the wild carrot seeds her father had prescribed. She would attempt to win him over enough to give him a child. A child who would not be overshadowed by Maida and her son. She would try to make peace with him for both their sakes, and for Sir Udolf, who so desperately wanted to know that his son had a legitimate heir to follow him.
It would not be easy, Alix knew. But it was her duty. Both her mother and the queen would be pleased that she was attempting to make things right. Had they both not taught her that a woman had a duty to her lord and must honor it? She couldn't run. There was no place to go, but she would do her best to be the kind of lady that Wulfborn Hall deserved. And surely her husband could be brought around even if only temporarily.
Chapter Three
At first Hayle Watteson would not allow them to either prepare for burial or bury his mistress and her infant. Only when Sir Udolf pointed out to his son that he was endangering Maida's immortal soul were the women in the girl's family allowed to wash and dress her. They laid her out in the gown that her lover had given her. It was a simple yellow jersey, but no woman in the village had anything nicer. They braided Maida's long black hair with the yellow ribbons he had given her to match the dress. The dead child they wrapped in clean swaddling clothes. The priest would not bury her, for by her actions she and her child were both damned souls. And so Maida was sewn into her shroud with her son and carried to her grave by her family.
Hayle Watteson did not go to see her buried. The thought of them placing his mistress in the ground and covering her with the earth was too painful for him to watch. But when she had been interred he went and sat by the grave for almost a week while he wept and called her name. He would not eat and he would drink but little. His heart was broken by his loss. Finally Sir Udolf went to his son, and with the help of two men they pulled Hayle from the graveside.
"You must come home," the baron told his only child. "Maida is gone, and your mourning will not bring her back."
"I want to be with her" came the dull reply.
"You have a wife," Sir Udolf snapped angrily. "And she has been more than patient with you. You have a duty to me, to her, to Wulfborn."
"The whore cannot conceive!" Hayle cried. "I have plugged her almost every night since you forced this marriage upon me. My seed does not take root in her womb. She is useless to me, to us, to Wulfborn. If you had but accepted Maida, Da." And Hayle began to weep inconsolably.
"Maida is gone," Sir Udolf repeated. "Neither she nor the lad she bore will come back to you. Nothing will be the same ever again, my son. Cleave to your wife, and do not again call her whore. Alix is a good girl. She will give you a son in time." He nodded to the two men holding Hayle's arms. "Bring him home, lads."
"Let me be!" the distraught man cried out. "I want to stay with my Maida!"
The two serving men, however, did their master's bidding, and half carrying, half dragging Hayle, brought him to the house. There servants forcibly removed his clothing and bathed him. When the candles and lamps were lit they escorted him to the hall where he was seated at his father's right hand while Alix sat on Sir Udolf's left. The meal was brought, but Hayle Watteson would eat nothing, and he only sipped at his wine. Sir Udolf conversed with his daughter-in-law, attempting now and again to bring his son into their light conversation, but Hayle Watteson would not speak to them.
When the food had been cleared away Alix arose and curtsied to the two men. Then, without a word, she departed the hall.
"You will go to her tonight," Sir Udolf said. "And you will treat her with kindness, for she has done you no wrong, my son."
"She allowed the queen and her father to make a marriage with me," he said. "She did not love me, and she knew I did not love her. She wanted a place for her father. She is little more than a whore, for she let herself be used by others. And she is barren."
"She is a good lass, my son. You have not given her a chance because of your overwhelming passion for your mistress. But now Maida is dead and buried. Alix has behaved well since your marriage. She has kept the hall, and the house servants have come to respect and like her. You would like her too if you would but cease this unreasonable behavior. You must have an heir. You have a wife. Do your duty!"
"Mount her yourself!" his son snarled angrily.
The baron's face grew crimson with his anger. "I have spoiled you," he said in a suddenly hard voice. "I saw no harm in your taking a mistress. It is what a man does, but you do not behave like a man. You behave like a child. Must you be put to your wife like a stallion to a mare? Will you shame her so? She has done you no ill, Hayle. Why do you persist in punishing her?"
"She is not Maida" came the stubborn reply. "Why can you not understand that? Your grandson, my heir, died with Maida. There will be no other, damn you!" And Hayle Watteson stormed furiously from the hall.
"Go after him," the baron ordered his servants. "And then take him to his wife." He reached for his goblet and drained it, nodding to a servant to refill the container.
In her chamber Alix had drawn the draperies wide, and an autumn moon shone through the glass, spreading a wide beam across the floor. She had dismissed Bab, for the serving woman's constant chatter and her lack of respect irritated Alix. Eventually she was going to have to find a servant who suited her better. She would wait until she was with child, for she knew Sir Udolf would give her anything at that point. Alix undid her long wavy hair and began to brush it out. Her mother had said its color was that of dark honey-rich and deep gold. The brush slicked down its length again and again and yet again. It was silky to the touch, Alix thought, as she plied her brush. Suddenly she heard a commotion in the hallway, and her door was flung wide and Hayle Watteson virtually thrown in by two husky male servants. Alix jumped up as he landed at her feet.
"Master said to bring him to you," one of the men said with a half leer. Then they were gone, pulling the door closed behind them.
He got to his feet slowly. Between the moon and the candles, the chamber was well lit. He stared at Alix in her simple batiste night garment, her long dark gold hair framing her heart-shaped face, hanging about her shoulders. "You aren't Maida," he finally said. His eyes were dull, showing no emotion.
"No, I am your wife, Alix, my lord," she answered quietly.
"You aren't Maida!" he repeated more forcefully, and began to become agitated. "My darling is dead, yet you live. You do not deserve to live!" He took a step towards her, his hands reaching out for her.
Frightened suddenly, Alix screamed a piercing cry. The blank look in his eyes had now been replaced by a mad fury. She shrieked again, falling back upon the bed.
He fell upon her, his hands wrapping themselves about her slender neck. "I will not allow you to live if my Maida is dead," he said in a cold voice. His hands began to tighten about her throat, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh.
Alix clawed at those hands, loosening them enough to scream again and yet again. "Help me! Help me! He is trying to kill me!" she cried as his hands again closed about her flesh. She fought the madman struggling to sit up, scratching his face, yanking at his hair as he sought to choke the life from her. And then, to her vast relief, the door to her chamber flew open again as the two serving men rushed in, pulling Hayle Watteson from atop Alix. Sir Udolf stood, staring with shock and dismay at the scene before him.
Alix reached up to stroke her bruised skin. The marks of his fingers were bright scarlet on her creamy flesh, and she was gasping for air. She tried to stand, but her legs would not hold her. And then, without warning, Alix began to cry.
Her husband, restrained by his father's servants, stared at her, and then with a shout he broke away from his keepers and ran from the room.
"Take him!" Sir Udolf roared. He was furious and dismayed all at once. "Alix, my child, I am so sorry," he began. "In my eagerness for a grandchild I forced him to come to you, and it was too soon. I see that now. Forgive him. Forgive me." And then the baron departed the chamber following the sound of his son's pounding feet and those of the servants pursuing Hayle. The madman moved up the stairs of his house, to the attics where his servants slept. There was a narrow corridor on that top floor, and reaching it, Sir Udolf saw his son standing in the open window at the hall's end. For a brief moment he thought that his heart had stopped, but no. It was beating rapidly. The two serving men seemed frozen where they stood.
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