Bab nodded, and suddenly there was a grudging respect in her eyes for Alix.
Another woman spoke up. "Why should he be given the church's blessing when our Maida was not?"
"Because he is the lord's son and was heir to Wulfborn. Maida was merely a miller's daughter. Will your family thank you if I have you driven from this place?" Alix's voice was soft, but there was definite menace in it.
"Shut yer gob, Molly," Bab said. "She's right, and shows more loyalty to Sir Udolf than you are showing. Listen to me, all of you. The young lord's death was an accident, and any says otherwise will be sorry they did."
The serving woman threw Alix a sullen look but said no more.
"You are dismissed, all of you, with my thanks," Alix said. She watched as they went from the hall, several of them whispering among themselves. Bab remained. Turning to her, Alix said, "Thank you. Now go and fetch Father Peter for me."
"At once, mistress," Bab replied respectfully. Then she hurried off.
Sir Udolf came into the hall, and walking over to his son's body, began to weep.
"I have told all who helped me prepare him that this was an accident. He fell trying to open a window in the attics. They will be silent, for I have said that any who says otherwise will be driven with their families from Wulfborn."
The baron looked at her with grief-stricken eyes. "You are clever," he said slowly. "It was a kind thing to do."
"I have but attempted to repay your kindness to me and to my father," Alix replied. "I hope you will forgive me if I do not remain here to mourn, my lord. You will surely understand why I cannot."
"In the morning I will send a messenger to Queen Margaret telling her of this tragedy," Sir Udolf said, brushing his tears away.
"Will you tell her I am returning to her service?" Alix asked him.
"I will tell her of my son's death, and then tell her I am sending to the archbishop in York for a dispensation to marry you," Sir Udolf said.
Alix grew pale with shock. "My lord! The church will never allow you to marry your son's widow. It is an unnatural thing! Besides, I do not wish to wed. I seek only to serve my queen in her exile. I am certain the reason she left: me at Wulfborn was only for my father's safety. She will surely take me back."
"For whatever reason, you did not give my son an heir and now my son is dead. I need an heir for Wulfborn. I am still young enough to sire one, Alix, and I shall not be cruel to you as was my son. We already know each other. The queen has no place for you, I fear. You must have a husband, and I am in need of a wife."
"The church will never approve such a dispensation," Alix said stubbornly.
He smiled a little smile and, rubbing his thumb and his forefinger together, said, "The church is not above certain persuasions, Alix. Surely, having been raised at court, you understand that. Anything is possible given the right circumstances. I will have my dispensation by the spring, and you will be my wife as soon as I do. Until then, I will respect your place in my house as my son's widow and Wulfborn's chatelaine."
She had no time for further protest, for Father Peter came hurrying into the hall. "I have heard of young Hayle's death, my lord, but two tales reach my ears."
"My son fell from an attic window trying to dislodge it," Sir Udolf said. "It was an accident, Good Father." He sighed sadly.
"A terrible tragedy indeed, my lord. I shall, of course, bury him on the morrow," the priest replied.
"At noon so the Wulfborn folk may pay their respects to their heir," Alix said.
"Of course, lady, and to you I offer my condolences. Despite the trials you have suffered in recent months, your example to all women is exemplary. I shall pray for Hayle, and for his father, and his wife," the priest told them.
"We are grateful, Good Father," the baron answered.
"I must go to my chamber, my lord, Father," Alix said.
"Of course, my dear," Sir Udolf responded. "This has been a terrible day for us all, and in seeing to the preparation of the body you have done your duty. It is late."
Alix curtsied to the two men, and forcing herself not to run, went from the hall. She was horrified by Sir Udolf's plans, but right now she wasn't certain what she could do about them. But she did know she had no intentions of marrying her late husband's father. And now her plan to rejoin the queen was blocked. She couldn't flee to her godmother, for it would be the first place Sir Udolf would look for her, and if he could indeed obtain a dispensation from the church to marry her, Margaret of Anjou would probably agree. As much as she hated admitting it even to herself, Alix knew that the queen in her desperation had matters more important to her to consider than her godchild for whom she had already made provision. She was alone. Truly alone for the first time in her life. She was a widow. Her family was gone, and she had no intention of permitting Sir Udolf to make decisions for her. She would make her own decisions.
When the morning came, Alix sat in the hall with her father-in-law as the Wulfborn folk came to pay their respects to them and view Hayle's body. She had dressed herself in her only good gown, the same violet damask silk she had worn on her wedding day almost seven months ago. The villagers shuffled by the body, but none, Alix noted, shed a tear. Hayle, despite his devotion to Maida, had obviously not been well liked by them. His father, however, was another thing. The loving respect they showed to Sir Udolf was touching, and the tears shed that day were his.
She had never paid a great deal of attention to him, but now she studied him surreptitiously as they sat together. He was taller than his son and heavier set. But where Hayle had had blond, almost white hair, Sir Udolf's pate was a bald one. He had but a fringe of grayish brown hair that ringed the back of his head. Where Hayle's light eyes had been emotionless, Sir Udolf's blue eyes were emotion filled. Alix believed him a good man, but the thought of marrying him repelled her. He was certainly her father's age, and while she knew many young women wed with older husbands, the thought of his coupling with her was horrific. She did not like coupling. It was distasteful to her.
The noon hour came and before the six serving men came to take her husband to the small village church. Alix arose, took the needle and thread Bab handed her and, drawing the shroud over Hayle's head, completed the sewing of the funerary garment. The heir to Wulfborn was then placed upon an open cart, which was driven through the village to the church where Father Peter said the Mass. Then the body was placed again upon the cart and taken to the grave.
"This is not hallowed ground," the priest said as he saw where Hayle Watteson was to be buried.
"He would want to be buried next to Maida and his son," Sir Udolf said. "What difference does it make, Good Father? Is the ground cursed?"
The priest raised his hand and blessed the open grave. "Not now," he said.
The body was lowered into the ground. The prayers were said, and then the grave diggers moved to fill the grave. They waited until the mound of earth had been raised, and then turned away, making their way back to the hall. Sir Udolf took the priest aside and began speaking to him earnestly. The priest listened, but no sign of what he might be thinking showed on his ageless face. When he turned briefly to look at Alix, she quickly lowered her eyes. Surely Father Peter would dissuade Sir Udolf from his plans.
But to Alix's shock, the priest came to see her several days later. She brought him to the fire in the hall and offered him a cup of cider. "Thank you, my daughter," he said as he settled himself, pointing his sandaled feet to the fire. "Has the lord spoken to you of his desires, lady?" the priest inquired gently.
"I am not certain to what you refer, mon père," Alix replied.
"Your modesty becomes you, daughter," the priest responded. "Sir Udolf wishes to obtain a dispensation so he may wed you. He is in need of an heir now, and still filled with vigor. You are young and, it is to be hoped, fertile. You need a home. This would seem a good solution to the problems that you both face."
"I would think a father attempting to wed his son's widow would be an anathema to Holy Mother Church," Alix said slowly. "And how can I think of Sir Udolf as a proper husband when I already think of him as a father? Would I not be committing the sin of incest, Good Priest?"
Father Peter looked briefly troubled, but then he said, "There is no blood link between you and Sir Udolf, for you did not give his son a child."
"But his son's seed entered me. Now you would ask me to accept the father's seed? Surely that cannot be right!"
"We must leave these weighty matters of philosophy to the archbishop's counsel in York, my daughter," Father Peter said. "As a woman, you are not competent to make such decisions. They will decide what is best in this matter, but as you are an orphan and there is no blood between you and Sir Udolf, it is possible the archbishop's counsel will decide to give him the dispensation, especially given the circumstances of your marriage. They will consider the fact that your inability to keep your husband by your side may have led to his unfortunate demise."
"But his death was an accident!" Alix insisted.
"Given the circumstances surrounding his death, the archbishop's counsel may have certain doubts," the priest answered her smoothly.
"But he was involved with Maida before I ever came to Wulfborn Hall," Alix said, in an attempt to defend herself.
"Still, as his bride, the church will believe you should have been able, by your good example, to bring him to your side and away from that of a wicked woman. And if it is thought that Maida lured him from beyond the grave, and you did not prevent it, the church will consider that you are in part responsible for the death of Sir Udolf's only heir, that you owe him a debt that can only be paid in kind. As the good daughter of the church I know you to be, lady, you will obey the directive of our Holy Mother Church," Father Peter concluded with a nod of his head. "Will you not?"
Alix swallowed hard. The priest reasoned skillfully, especially for a country cleric. "I will do what is right, Good Father," she told him.
He smiled at her. "I know you will, my daughter," he told her, "which is why tomorrow I will travel to York myself carrying Sir Udolf's request along with my own recommendation that the dispensation be given. Such permission will have to be discussed and is not likely to be given before spring, so I will return quickly for Wulfborn should not be left without its priest. There is much sin here, I fear. In the meantime, your presence as our lady will be a comfort to the folk." The priest arose from his seat. "I must return to the church, for it will soon be time for evensong and vespers. Thank you for your hospitality, lady. I am comforted to know that you are a sensible girl." And he hurried from the hall, his brown robes flapping about his scrawny ankles.
Alix shook her head. There was nothing for it but that she would have to flee. And soon. She knew Sir Udolf would be going hunting shortly so that the winter larder would be full. He had told her he would be away two days. The priest's trip to York as well as his return would take far longer. It would be several weeks before he returned. But how could she keep the nosy Bab from learning that she was gone? Alix suddenly knew. When Sir Udolf rode out she would say that she would spend the time he was off hunting praying and fasting in her chamber for Hayle's soul. She was not to be disturbed for any reason. Her strength of will after her husband's death had impressed Bab, and the serving woman was now treating her with grudging respect.
"When do you plan to hunt?" Alix asked Sir Udolf that evening as they sat at the high board for the light evening meal.
"A few days before Martinmas," he told her, taking her hand in his. "Is it possible you will miss me, my lass?" He kissed her hand, but did not release it.
With effort, she let him hold her hand and did not snatch it away. God's wounds, but he was attempting to play the lover! Alix fought back a shudder. "There is something I wish to do, but I did not want to deprive you of my company, my lord."
"And what is that, my sweet?" he asked her, smiling directly into her eyes.
Alix made her mouth turn up in a small return smile. "Father Peter has suggested that by not being able to comfort Hayle in his distress I might in part be responsible for his unhappy death, my lord." She cast her eyes down.
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