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Afterward, they gathered around the hearth.

The women sat on opposite benches and wove straw crosses.

Rolf brought out his lute, and Trystan played a simple pipe.

Edric pleaded with his wife to sing. Her voice rang out high and pure as she told of an ill-fated love between a woman and a king.

Melissa didn’t understand the Gaelic verse, but the melody expressed the haunting sadness.

Watching Elsa’s wistful expression, her soft brown eyes shining with emotion, Melissa thought she looked breathtaking.

One glance at Edric’s admiring face told her he thought the same.

Much to her surprise, Rolf and William sang an ancient battle song of the defeat of the English King Harold and crowning of the Norman William I.

They took turns with verses and sang a chorus together.

Sir Blackbourne’s voice was deeper, but the flawless blending of their low, resonant voices made it clear they had done this often.

She had never heard either of them sing and enjoyed the treat immensely.

Melissa listened as Rolf held a note until William joined in.

The fire shone on his midnight hair; his eyes sparkled like a fine scotch whiskey.

She felt the passion rise up in her belly as his strong, slender fingers strummed the lute with precision and finesse.

Another layer to her husband’s character she had not known.

When the song ended, Elsa rose. “We need to hang these about the hall. She handed three to Trystan. “Put one with the horses, one with the cows, and one near the chickens.” He raced toward the door. “Wait, come back. Hang two in the barn. We want plenty of milk for the next year.”

When the crosses had been distributed, Elsa nodded with satisfaction. The doll lay in a small bed of pine lined with purple and white petals, a blue stone on her chest, and a thin, white stick of birch across her chest.

“This time St. Brigid will bless this house, Edric.” She smiled at Melissa. “Ye brought us good fortune, I know it.” Trystan tamped out the fire and Elsa used a paddle to smooth out the fire and chunks of peat.

In their chamber, Rolf pulled off his tunic then poured a cup of wine.

“We will see them again, I promise.” He leaned next to the fireplace, a foot against the wall, showing off a muscled thigh.

His linen shirt was open, the ties at the neck hanging invitingly.

Her pulse quickened at the sight of his bare chest and the dark hair that waited for her touch.

“I only wish I could give her something before I left. A token of thanks.” She slipped under the cup, placed her legs on either side of his knee, and put her arms around him.

Her hands felt the solid shoulders and the hard sinew of his arms. “They will not join us later unless you command it. And it would break my heart if you did that.”

His lips made a leisurely trail down her neck, and she leaned her head back, allowing him easy access. “I wish…” His lips moved to the pulse below her neck. “I wish…” Rolf lowered his head and flicked his tongue between her breasts.

“For this?” he whispered in her ear.

She nodded, closed her eyes, and heard the cup hit the carpet with a soft thud, the wine splashing onto her toes. “Sweet Jesu, Melissa, I want you.” He swept her off her feet, into his arms, and carried her to bed.

***

When they entered the long hall the next morning, excitement vibrated off the walls. Edric met them at the entrance, his hands on his hips. “Excuse me, my lord.” His spoke in a lowered tone. “Did you, er, have anything to do with the”—he looked over his shoulder at his beaming wife—“footprint?”

“What footprint?”

“In the smoothed ashes, the sign from St. Brigid.”

It took a moment for Rolf to comprehend the subtle question. “There was a mark left in the ashes?”

Melissa gasped. “The saint left her blessing?” She clapped and squealed, running to Elsa.

“I assume then that your wife did not have anything to do with it either?”

Rolf shook his head. “In truth, we were a little…occupied last night.” He smiled. “Is it a miracle, do you think?” He had never witnessed one, from his god or any of Merlin’s.

“I consider myself a religious man, but I don’t know what to think.” Edric watched the women hug and swing each other around. “What if Trystan did it? I couldn’t bear my wife thinking she will finally have a child this year, and nothing comes from it. We are better to have no hope at all.”

The couple had been trying to conceive a child for seven years. It was the only sadness he could see in their marriage. They all thought the beatings Elsa had received had left her barren and had resigned themselves to the fact.

“Trystan would never do such a thing. He loves that woman like a mother. It wouldn’t even enter William’s head.” He strode across the room and opened his arms to Elsa. “Well, have we had a visitor in the night? Shall my family grow ever larger this coming year?”

His words took the joy from Elsa’s face. “Och, my lord. Why didna I think of that?” She looked at Edric, concern in her gaze. “I apologize, husband. We have been alone for so long that it didna occur to me…”

“What didn’t occur to you?” Edric sat next to his wife, her distress now glistening in her soft brown eyes.

“Lady Melissa. She is now part of this household. It may not be myself who will carry a child. Perhaps Lord Rolf will have an heir.” A tear slipped down her scarred cheek and she dashed it away with impatience. “My deepest apologies for getting your hopes up.”

Wrapping his arms around his wife’s thin shoulders, Edric rocked her gently. The happiness of the moment threatened to fade away. He looked at Rolf for help, pleading in his eyes.

Melissa stamped her foot. “I do not believe that. No saintly woman with an ounce of compassion would do this to another woman.”

Elsa looked up, a tremulous smile on her lips. “Ye do not think so?”

“Absolutely not. If this St. Brigid is all that you say she is, this sign was left for you not for me. I have only begun my married life. Why leave me a sign?” Melissa held out her hand. “Come, let us break our fast in celebration before I must leave you. This is a jubilant morn indeed.”

Elsa’s shining eyes spilled over as she stood and Melissa pulled her into a fierce hug. “Ye are a blessing for my lord and his people, my lady. A blessing for sure.”