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 document. That it was undoubtedly obtained by means of fraud. Now you answer me honestly, Priest.Was it?”
The priest shifted uncomfortably in his chair, and Bab cackled knowingly. “There was a donation made at Yorkminster for the archbishop’s Christian work,” he admitted to Alix.
“There was a bribe made,” Alix responded dryly. “And not once, nor twice, but three times. Shame, priest! Shame! Now to salve your own conscience you must tell Sir Udolf I am indeed wed to another. That he must release me back to my husband.”
