“You have ahusband, my dear.”
Catalina had no idea what Harald was talking about. In their small section of the competitor and visitor encampment on the outskirts of the tournament field, she had just settled her girls in for the night in the fortified carriage that she and her children had traveled to the tournament in when Harald summoned her. Leaving Adabella and Ines tucked into one of the small benches that doubled as a bed, she had just exited the carriage through the rear door when Harald had made his odd statement.
She looked at him curiously.
“A what?” she asked.
“Husband.”
Catalina still wasn’t clear on what he was saying. “Papa, forgive me, but you are talking nonsense,” she said, pushing past him and heading for the small cooking fire next to the carriage. She picked up an earthenware pitcher. “Do you know where I can find fresh water? There must be a well around here.”
Harald followed her. “Sit down,” he told her, gently grasping her arm. “I must speak with you.”
She let him direct her onto a stool near the fire. “What about?”
“Your husband.”
She sighed with growing irritation. “I do not have one.”
“You do now.”
“What on earth are you speaking of?”
Harald sat on a collapsible chair, one made from leather on a sturdy frame, facing her across the fire.
“My dear, you must remarry,” he said. “You know you must remarry. I have a great legacy and you are the guardian of that legacy. However, when I die, you cannot be unmarried. There must be a husband to pass that legacy on to, including the Earldom of Mercia. Including the wealth my forefathers have built over the years, a great deal of wealth. It must go to your husband.”
Catalina had a horrible suspicion. “Papa, what have you done?”
“I found you a husband.”
Catalina shot to her feet. “We have been over this,” she said. “I will choose my own husband. You promised that I could.”
Harald didn’t rise to her anger. “And you have deliberately avoided choosing one,” he said. “Do not deny it, for it would be a lie. You have had perfectly acceptable suitors, whom you have summarily dismissed.”
She was angry, but he was right. There had been at least three suitors since Alfred had passed away and she’d brushed off all of them, not to mention the two friends of Harald’s who had wanted her for their sons. She’d brushed them off, too.
“They were not of my choosing,” she said, knowing it was a weak excuse. “I will choose my own husband.”
“Who?” he said, almost sarcastically. “Le Kerque? For some reason, he seems to be fond of you, but I do not want him for you and I cannot wait for you to choose a husband because you might not do it until I am on my deathbed. At that point, there would be nothing I could do about it if he were unworthy.”
“But—!”
“Nay,” he said sharply, cutting her off. He pointed a bony finger at her. “You will listen to me and listen well, Catalina. This is not a matter up for debate. You did your duty and married, but all you could manage to produce were two daughters. We need a son from you if my legacy is to survive. If you remain a stubborn widow, with only two daughters to your name, then the king will swoop in, take everything from you, and force you to marry a man who could treat you like dirt beneath his feet, and there would be nothing you could do about it. I realize you want to choose your own husband, but you hardly leave Eckington as it is. How do you expect to choose a man when you refuse to socialize with anyone?”
Catalina was red in the face by the time he finished. “I am here, aren’t I?” she snapped back. “I am out in the world, as you want me to be.”
“So you are.”
“Then let me start looking for a husband now,” she said, trying to keep the panic from her voice. “Let me—”
He cut her off again. “Nay,” he said. “It has been decided for you. I spoke to Lord Hereford and he has a prince in mind for you.”
Catalina was gearing up for a major row, but his statement confused her. She faltered. “A prince?” she repeated. “What prince?”
Harald could see he had her attention. “The brother of a king,” he said. “Well, he would be king if his country had not been sacked. The man’s brother is the Earl of Deira and your future husband is a prince from a family a thousand years old. He bears royal blood, as do you, so the sons you bear him will inherit the Earldom of Mercia. They will be men of royal blood, a fine legacy for my ancestors. You can do no better, Catalina. Youare an old woman with two children. Decent, eligible men want virgins.”
He was insulting her. But, then again, he always insulted her and never realized he was doing so. Harald could be oblivious sometimes, unaware how much he hurt his daughter, how much he battered her sense of self-worth. Sadly, Alfred used to do the same thing. She was beautiful, and bright, but Alfred’s first unkind words came when she bore a daughter, and then more unkind words came when she bore a second daughter. The man had wanted sons and only got girl children.
