Ragna gasped. “Son?” she said. “Wilf has a son?”

“Yes.”

That explained the kiss, at least.

Gytha added: “Wilf is forty years old. Did you think you married a virgin?”

“Of course not.” Ragna thought furiously. She knew that Wilf had been married before, but not that he had a child. “Are there others?”

“Not that I know of.”

So, one son. It was a shock, but she could bear it. However, she had one more question. “What connection does Garulf have with the woman in the red shoes?”

Gytha smiled broadly, and it was ominously clear that this was her great moment of triumph. “Why,” she said, “Inge is Wilf’s first wife.”

Ragna was so shocked that she jumped to her feet and dropped her cup. She let it lie there. “His first wife is dead!”

“Who told you that?”

“Wynstan.”

“Are you sure that’s what he said?”

Ragna remembered clearly. “He said: ‘Sadly his wife is no longer with us.’ I’m sure of it.”

“I thought as much,” Gytha said. “You see, no longer with us is not the same as dead, not at all.”

Ragna was incredulous. “He deceived me, and my father and mother?”

“There was no deceit. After Wilf met you, Inge was set aside.”

“Set aside? What in heaven’s name does that mean?”

“That she is no longer his wife.”

“So it’s a divorce?”

“Of sorts.”

“Then why is she here?”

“Just because she’s no longer his wife doesn’t mean he can’t see her. After all, they have a child together.”

Ragna was horrified. The man she had just married already had a family: a wife of many years, from whom he had had a divorce “of sorts,” and a son who was almost a man. And he was clearly fond of them both. And they had now moved into the compound.

She felt as if the world had shifted under her feet, and she struggled to keep her equilibrium. She kept thinking that surely this could not be true. It could not be that everything she had believed about Wilf was wrong.

Surely he could not have deceived her so badly.

She now felt she had to get away from Gytha’s exultant gaze. She could not bear that woman’s knowing eyes on her. She went to the door, then turned back. An even worse thought had struck her.

She said: “But Wilf cannot continue to have marital relations with Inge.”

“Can’t he?” Gytha shrugged. “My dear, you must ask him about that.”

CHAPTER 16

January 998

t was long past midnight when Ragna at last managed to stop crying.

She spent the night at her own house. She felt unable even to speak to Wilf. She ordered Cat to tell him that Ragna could not sleep with him because the woman’s monthly curse was upon her. That bought her time.

Her servants watched her fearfully by the firelight, but she could not bring herself to explain her anguish. “Tomorrow,” she kept saying. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”