Overruled by Fate

by Leila Snow

  "Yes Father," Madeline replied, as meekly as she could manage, inwardly cursing her misfortune to have been born a woman. She turned and left the solar without another word, pulling the door closed behind herself with a bit more force than necessary.

  * * *

  Nathaniel could see the storm clouds on Madeline's face as soon as she descended the stairs into the great hall. He was already seated at one of the lower tables with his fellow knights but had been keeping a watchful eye on the stairs waiting for her appearance. He was anxious to find out how her conversation with her father had gone. He prayed that he was wrong about the subject of the meeting but he doubted it, and doubly so now that he could see the look on her face.

  He closed his eyes and clenched his fist around his tankard of ale, the pain of his imminent loss making him queasy. He swallowed the lump that rose up in his throat as he struggled to control his emotions. He knew she would come to him for advice and comfort. But what would it be that he could tell her? He had sworn a knight's oath to her father, and could not, would not, commit such an act of betrayal as to intercede against his Lord's command. For the first time, Nathaniel found himself caught between love and honour and he quietly cursed the bonds of his knightly rank.

  He noticed Madeline didn't look for him as she entered the enormous room but strode directly to the high table, her head held high. No one but he would be able to tell the turmoil that boiled within. Nathaniel admired her self-control and composure when he knew she would be screaming inside. She had ever fought against the confines of her gender but he had always known this day would come. Had dreaded it since then.

  She stood behind her seat waiting for her father, her back ramrod straight, and her beautiful face expressionless except for her slanted green eyes that flashed fire in their depths. He knew she would do what was expected of her. She might be headstrong and reckless, and she would protest and rant, but she would never disgrace her family by refusing a marriage her father had signed his name to.

  Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the

  remover to remove:

  O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,

  That looks on tempests

  and is never shaken;

  It is the star to every wandering bark,

  Whose worth’s unknown,

  although his height be taken.

  ~William Shakespeare

  CHAPTER 3

  "He's old, Nate! Old enough to be my father!" she ranted as she paced back and forth in front of her mare's stall. "How could he do this to me? An old man?"

  Nathaniel pinched the bridge of his nose and strove to stand firm in his decision to be true to his rank and station. He was a knight. It was his responsibility to remain measured, to retain decency, and to honour his Lord's wishes. Beyond all else, Madeline's best interests must be considered above his own desires.

  "He gave you time, Linny. Time to pick your own match. You refused them all, even the young ones, if I recall."

  "Who's side are you on?" she stopped to glare at him. Hurt and anger warring in the depths of her eyes.

  "Linny," he sighed. "It's just that you are the only one who didn't see this coming. Don't hold it against your father. He loves you and he's done what he felt was the best for you, both to protect you and to advance your standing in society. You'll be a countess."

  "Society be damned," she retorted scornfully. "I don't care one whit for titles and such rubbish."

  "I know," he answered calmly, speaking much as he would to settle a skittish horse. "I only point out that his decision is born out of his affection for you."

  Madeline sank down on a pile of hay that sat outside the stall door and put her face in her hands. "How can I bear it, Nate? How can I bear to leave here and go to an old man as his wife? I don't want to leave everyone and everything I know. I love Alwinsopp."

  Nathaniel resisted the urge to pull back the veil covering Madeline's auburn locks and stroke them. He clenched his hands behind his back to resist touching her at all. Her pain was his pain but he wouldn't do her any good if he allowed her to wallow in self-pity. She needed to gather her formidable determination and make the best of things. It was for her own good, he repeated to himself, although he felt less than convinced.

  He lowered himself down onto the hay beside her. No more words passed between them as they sat in companionable silence. She, trying to accept what her future held and he, trying to accept that he was soon to lose her.

  After many long moments, he realized she was softly crying and reached to brush a tear from her cheek with his thumb. She turned her eyes to him and his heart ached at the dull sadness he saw reflected there. Irrationally, he felt that he had failed her, although his mind told him that this was one hurt he could not protect her from. Gently he stroked her cheek and gazed into those green eyes, as familiar to him as his own. She reached up to press her palm against his face.

  "How will I stand to lose my best friend?" she questioned softly.

  Nathaniel shook his head, unable to speak. "I will miss you too," he finally ground out.

  Madeline dropped her eyes and swayed towards him, her head coming to rest against his broad chest. He raised his hands but momentarily left them suspended in midair, unsure. They had always been very close but there had never been any physical contact between them. If Lord John caught him like this, he would have Nathaniel killed without a doubt. Heedless of the risk, he determined to allow himself this one indulgent discretion. He wrapped his arms around Madeline and held her close, relishing the moment. He closed his eyes and rested his head against hers, breathing in her scent. He felt her sigh, her lithe body relaxing against his.

  * * *

  The preparations for the wedding kept Madeline busy in the ensuing weeks. Her mother tasked her with the embroidery for what was to be her wedding gown. Madeline expected to go to her new groom with pin-pricked, cramped hands and a bowed back after the hours she spent working on the intricate needlework. The hours dragged on, long and torturous, and yet sped by far too quickly. She walked the keep like a ghost when not at her needlework and barely ate during mealtimes. Nathaniel could see the dark circles under her eyes, but the wedding preparations and his decision towards honour, kept him at distance from her.

  The servants were put to work scrubbing and cleaning the keep from top to bottom. The kitchens bustled as they worked to lay in and prepare all the food that would be necessary for the wedding feast. An atmosphere of anticipation and excitement reverberated throughout the castle.

  Lord John busied himself overseeing the reparation of curtain walls, as well as the thorough cleaning of the courtyard and stables. Lord Endle was a man of importance, influence, and incredible wealth. He was also the overseer of several counties, and a favourite at court. Lord John believed it important to present a good impression, lest the man cry off at the last moment.

  During these preparations, Nathaniel trained from early morning until late into the evening. Even as the sweat flowed from his pores, and every muscle ached from strain, he would beckon another rested knight to come forward, present his skills in practice, and test his mettle. By now, he had accepted that exhaustion was his only saviour from the tormented thoughts of Madeline's marriage, which would visit him in those isolated moments that occur just before sleep.

  On this night however, sleep would not offer respite. He found himself consumed by his own thoughts. He rolled over and beat his fist into his pallet, muffling a groan as he did so. He had known this day was coming since he was a boy. Why was it so hard to accept? It was not as if he had ever thought she could be his. He was under no illusion of that. But he loved her, God help him. He always had.

  Madeline also lay awake dreading the arrival of her bridegroom the following day. She had never even met the man and yet she was expected to marry him the day after his arrival. In two days time she would be a married woman. She turned her face into her pillow and cried hot
tears, until the well ran dry.

  Earlier in the evening her mother had reluctantly tried to explain the marriage act. She had been flushed and stammering. Not the most motherly woman, her explanation was less than comforting to Madeline.

  "You must allow your husband to have his way with you whenever he is feeling amorous," she had explained haltingly. "You may not enjoy it and it will hurt the first time but you must bear with it stoically. It is how you will give your husband the heirs he needs. Once he has a child or two from you he will most likely force his attentions on you less."

  "Is it that bad, Mother?" Madeline asked in horror. "I've overheard the scullery maids talking and they made it sound enjoyable."

  "Foul wenches," her mother snapped. "What do you expect from the lower classes? No, we are ladies and ladies don't have such base instincts." She had risen up and without a tender touch or word to Madeline, had swept out of the room.

  Madeline now tossed and turned in her bed trying to imagine the details of just what exactly was involved in these wifely duties. The thought of having an old man's attentions forced on her gave her a queasy feeling in her stomach. If he was young and handsome, like Nate, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It had been Nate she had heard the two scullery maids talking and giggling about. She turned her mind to imagine what his body would look like unclothed. She flushed, shocking herself at her indecent thoughts. His body had been so hard and she had felt his muscles rippling under his tunic when he held her close in the stables those many days ago. It had stirred a strange sensation in her that she'd never felt before. She'd felt tempted to run her fingers through his blonde waves and touch his full lips with her own. His face was so familiar to her and so precious. His jawline and cheekbones were now more sculpted and rugged than they had been years ago, whiskers now shadowed his cheeks in the evenings. He had grown from a tall, lanky boy to be a very large man, well proportioned and muscular without being bulky. Her stomach now flipped with a much more pleasant sensation.

  Nate was her best friend. He had always been there from her earliest remembering, her only playmate, her shadow, and her hero. They had spent less time together in recent years with his training and responsibilities increasing, but they still managed a ride or a bit of sparring from time to time. She missed the days when they explored and played together constantly. She would miss Nate most of all when she left.

  Turning back into her pillow, she found she had not exhausted the well of tears after all.

  * * *

  The day dawned clear and bright, in mockery of her misery Madeline thought, as she stood in her nightgown gazing morosely out the window of her bedchamber. It was a rare day of sunshine and warm, blue skies. She craved to make the most of the day and go out riding but she was certain she would never be given the time. Lord Endle arrived today. Today she would meet her future husband and tomorrow she would be wedded and bedded. This was her last day and night as a single woman. She must somehow manage to make the most of it.

  Her eyes turned towards the training grounds she could see from her window. Her father's knights were already at their exercises. They would pause to break their fast shortly. Even from her high vantage point she could see Nathaniel, bigger than the other knights, his sword flashing as he sparred with her father's best knight, Sir Hugh. The other knights surrounded the two, shouting their encouragement. Sir Hugh had trained Nathaniel from a squire himself. He was now the only knight at Alwinsopp who was any match for Nathaniel.

  She watched as Nathaniel blocked a particularly vicious blow, the shock of it reverberating visibly through his large arms. Madeline cringed, fearing if ever one of them was unprepared for such a strike. He parried back, his biceps bulging as he launched a sweeping blow of his own. At the last moment he twisted his sword sharply upward and Sir Hugh's sword was wrenched from his hands to fly through the air, skidding into the dirt several feet away.

  The crowd of knights cheered and Sir Hugh strode over to Nathaniel, clapping him on the back and grinning broadly. Madeline could see Nate's white smile as he returned the grin and they walked companionably towards the knights' quarters laughing and joking together. They had their tunics off and she could see he was gleaming with sweat. It was a sight she'd grown up with. She'd seen knights training for years and yet today the sight of Nathaniel half-clothed made her mouth go dry. It was difficult to avert her eyes in order to prepare for the morning meal.

  She dressed in a cream coloured, fine linen kirtle with a richly embroidered emerald green cotehardie overtop. The cream sleeves were tightly fitted and then flared to long lappets that hung from her wrists. Her nurse arrived to plait her hair into braids that were wound on either side of her head, covering them with finely meshed, golden crespines and a gauzy veil. No more for her the wild ways of her childhood with loose flowing hair and wild rides through the country. She was a soon-to-be married woman and having her hair uncovered would be inappropriate, except in the privacy of the bedchamber. She cringed at the thought but made her way downstairs nevertheless.

  * * *

  From the dais she could feel Nathaniel's eyes on her throughout the meal. She also had a difficult time keeping her eyes from straying to him, remembering the hard planes of his partly clad body this morning.

  She flushed as he caught her sidelong glance at him. He grinned at her, as he usually did, his eyes often twinkling at some shared merriment. But there was no twinkle in his eyes today and Madeline thought his smile seemed rather forced. It was common for the knights to be injured during their fierce training, and she wondered if he hadn’t been wounded during the sparring.

  Madeline found she lacked an appetite this morning and merely shifted the food around on her plate for the duration of the meal. Her mother turned a searching stare at her, her eyes narrowed in contemplation of her daughter.

  "Try to look a little more like a joyful bride, Madeline," she hissed quietly at her. "Anyone would think you weren't happy with the match your father has made for you."

  "I'm not," Madeline sighed truthfully. "But I suppose that matters little, doesn't it? An advantageous match is more important than my happiness at the end of the day."

  "You are an ungrateful, spoiled girl," her mother spat viciously at her. Turning to her husband, she muttered under her breath, "You best be speaking with your daughter about her responsibilities to this family. She shall not humiliate us over this matter." She glared at Madeline before rising and making her way back upstairs.

  Lord John released a great sigh and turned his focus from his wife to his unhappy daughter. "She has never forgiven you for not being a boy. She lost three male children before you, of course."

  Madeline nodded, she'd heard all this before, but it didn't make the sting of her mother's lack of affection any easier to bear.

  "She is right though. I know you are not happy, my girl. But you must trust me and you must do your duty by this family."

  She sighed, "I know, Papa. I know."

  "Good girl." He patted her hand with his large paw before drawing himself painfully to a standing position. "Now try to look a little less gloomy then, can't you? A little more like a bride on the eve of her wedding day."

  She nodded again and caught Nate's look of sympathy from where he sat with the other knights.

  "I think I will go speak with Nathaniel briefly," she excused herself and stood.

  Nathaniel also stood and made his way out of the great hall, pausing by the door to allow Madeline to join him. Together they walked to the door of the keep and out into the bright sunshine of the summer day.

  "Do you have time for a stroll in the gardens?" Madeline asked, suddenly feeling shy with her childhood friend.

  "Of course. I always have time for little Linny," he teased, smiling down at her. "It's a lovely gown. Matches your eyes," he complimented.

  "It was Mother's choice, but my poor hand that was forced to do all the embroidery," Madeline complained. "Perhaps the only good thing about being married is that I will no lo
nger have to do embroidery if I don't wish to. Papa says the Lord Endle is very wealthy so I intend to have a servant to do all my stitching for me." She laughed humourlessly.

  Nathaniel chuckled and the conversation fell into a lull between them. They walked in silence.

  After a time, Nathaniel spoke. "You must make the best of it, Linny," he advised seriously. "You cannot let your will and joy of life be beaten by this. You must take the opportunities that will be presented along with the hardships."

  Madeline stopped and turned to gaze up into his strong face. Slowly she nodded.

  "I know, you're right of course. I have no choice." She looked out over the rolling hills visible beyond the castle walls and changed the subject. "It's a beautiful day. Too bad we can't have one last ride."

  Nathaniel agreed. "Perhaps we could go now? Before Lord Endle arrives." Just as he spoke, they spied Madeline's nurse scurrying through the garden towards them.

  "Lord Endle and his party have been spotted from the lookout tower. He's here!" she exclaimed breathlessly as she took Madeline's hand and dragged her away.

  Madeline turned to glance back at Nathaniel as she was rushed away. He stood still, looking after her, an expression she couldn't interpret written on his face.

  Beauty and love are all my dream;

  They change not

  with the changing day;

  Love stays forever like a stream

  That flows but never flows away.

  ~Eliza Acton

  CHAPTER 4

  Madeline was rushed to her bedchamber and she woodenly allowed her nurse to freshen her up and straighten her veil. She then moved to the window to watch in morbid curiosity as the grand procession entered the castle gates and milled about in the courtyard before the keep. Leading the entourage was a tall, slim man richly garbed in sober shades of dark blue. She couldn't see his face, which was hidden by his hat, but he seemed to sit his horse well.