England, 1037-40 ADHarold Harefoot joined his mother at her estates in Bosham on one of her by now rare ventures into the South. As I returned to Gytha to cradle my newborn son, Leofwine, in my arms, I expected and received a visit from the King and Aelfgifu. Gytha gasped at the sight of Harold crossing our threshold. In the weak indoor light, she beheld, she thought, the ghost of Knut upon us. The same thin, prominent, aquiline nose, shaggy hair and beard made the resemblance to his father so striking.
The friendship forged between Gytha and Aelfgifu years before resumed as though they had never parted. Little Leofwine, cradled in my daughter Gunhild"s arms, occupied everyone"s attention for long enough for us all to engage in comfortable, relaxed banter. Gunhild is too young to hold a b
