Aldred found Ragna in the house that had formerly been occupied by the youngest of the three brothers, Wigelm. The door was open. Ragna was there with three of her servants from Cherbourg: the pretty maid, Cat; the seamstress, Agnes; and the red-bearded bodyguard called Bern. Also present was Offa, the reeve of Mudeford, and Aldred wondered briefly what he was doing there, but quickly turned his attention to Ragna. With her two maids she was examining silk slippers of different colors, but she looked up and smiled broadly as she recognized Aldred.

“Welcome to England,” he said. “I’ve come to see if you’re settling into your new home.”

“There’s so much to do!” she said. “But it’s all exciting.”

He studied her animated face. He recalled thinking that she was beautiful, but the memory was a pale imitation of the real thing. His mind had not retained the unique sea-green color of her eyes, the graceful curve of her high cheekbones, or the luxuriant thickness of her red-gold hair, peeping out now from beneath a brown silk head scarf. Unlike most men he was not led to the sin of lust by the allure of women’s breasts, but even he could see that she had a marvelous figure.

He said: “And how do you feel about the wedding?”

“Impatient!” she said, and then she blushed.

Aldred thought: So that’s all right, then. “I expect Wilf is impatient, too,” he said.

“He wants a son,” Ragna said.

Aldred changed the subject to save her blushes. “I imagine Wigelm was displeased to be ousted from his house.”

“He could hardly claim priority over the ealdorman’s bride,” Ragna said. “Besides, he’s on his own—his wife is still at Combe—so he doesn’t really need it.”

Aldred looked around. The house was a high-quality timber construction, but not as comfortable as it might have been. Wooden houses needed major repairs after about twenty years and fell apart completely after fifty. He could see a misaligned shutter at the window, a bench with a broken leg, and a leak in the roof. “You need a carpenter in here,” he said.

She sighed. “They’re all busy making benches and tables for the wedding. And the head carpenter, Dunnere, is usually drunk by afternoon.”

Aldred frowned. The ealdorman’s bride surely ought to have priority. “Can’t you get rid of Dunnere?”

“He’s Gytha’s nephew. But yes, shaking up the maintenance crew here is high on my list.”

“There was a boy at Dreng’s Ferry who seemed to be a good craftsman: Edgar.”

“I remember him. Could I ask him to fix up this house?”

“You don’t need to ask when you can command. Edgar’s master is Dreng, Wilwulf’s cousin. Just order Dreng to send his servant to you.”

She smiled. “I’m still not sure what I’m entitled to here. But I’ll take your advice.”

A vague thought was nagging at Aldred. He had the sense that Ragna had said something important, but he had missed its significance. Now he could not recall it.