by Leila Snow
Madeline reined her horse to a stop beside Lord Endle and looked over her shoulder for Nathaniel. She needn't have feared as his horse was practically touching hers, so close was he. A fearsome knight, he held himself tall and imposing atop his warhorse as he espied the commoners for any threat or danger. Madeline tried to catch his eye again but it roved over her hastily.
Lord Endle gestured with a wave of his hand and those assembled fell silent, anticipating their Lord's words.
"People of Marbourne," he announced in a strong voice. "May I present to you, your new mistress, my beautiful bride, the Lady Madeline."
A roar went up from the crowd and Madeline nodded graciously at them. She focused on their faces, ignoring the heaviness in her heart and steeled her resolve to be a good mistress.
Lord Endle dismounted his horse unassisted and then turned, holding his arms up for her. She put her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to lift her down. Much to the delight of the crowd, the moment he set her feet on the ground, he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was unexpected and Madeline fought the impulse to push him away. It was not an intrusive kiss, but it was one of possession and pride. Madeline blushed in her horror at Nathaniel having witnessed the affectionate gesture. The crowd cheered and extolled what they supposed to be the evidence of her modesty and purity.
"Ah, here you are Geoffrey," Lord Endle greeted a fair-haired man who stood sullenly before the front steps of the keep. Madeline supposed him to be only a year or two older than herself.
"Lady Madeline, this is my nephew, Geoffrey," he introduced her. He then turned, "Geoffrey your new aunt, the Lady Madeline."
Geoffrey wavered unsteadily as he sunk into a brief bow, a sour expression on his face. Madeline saw Endle purse his lips at his thin, whey-faced nephew. A more mismatched pair she had never seen. Whilst Lord Endle was all graciousness and refined manners, his nephew was clearly already drunk and barely civil. To be fair, she hadn't expected him to be overjoyed at her arrival. After all, she was the future mother of the Lord's heir, his usurper. However, she had been unprepared for the glint of fury that she could see burning in the depths of his glacial eyes.
Lord Endle smiled apologetically at her, then tucked her hand in his arm and led her up the impressive stone steps into the immense keep.
* * *
The great hall at Marbourne had to be double the size of the one at Alwinsopp, Madeline thought as she sat at the head table. Marbourne was also the barracks for twice as many knights as what served her father. The knights sat at long trestle tables below where she was seated at the high table with her husband, Geoffrey, and the Marbourne priest.
The feast that was laid before them was, if possible, even more extravagant than the one her father had provided. Madeline was exhausted by travel but even more so by the emotional burdens of the day. Nevertheless, she purposed to be the bride that Lord Endle deserved, as she was becoming more and more convinced of the goodness of her new husband. He deserved better than the act of betrayal she had so recently committed. And although she was laden with guilt, Madeline knew her heart was still encumbered with the loss of Nathaniel's affection.
As it was, she summoned a herculean effort to avoid thinking of, or searching for, Nathaniel within the assembled knights. She could find no distraction in Geoffrey. His state of intoxication buoyed his animosity towards her. He seemed unable to summon the common courtesy to speak with her, nor indeed, even to look at her. She did find some comfort from her new husband, despite her disquiet about her forthcoming marital obligations. He was the epitome of polite solicitude and clearly a well-read, intelligent man. In another situation she would have very much enjoyed his conversation.
Platter after platter of delicacy was paraded past the head table. Quail with red currents was one of Madeline's favourites, she informed Lord Endle when he inquired as to her preferences. There was also venison, fish, and a whole roasted peacock, complete with feathers, much to the acclaim of the guests. Lord Endle spooned oysters steamed in almond milk into their trencher. "Beneficial for newlyweds it's said," he added, jesting good-naturedly when Madeline lowered her eyes modestly.
"You are a beautiful woman, Madeline," he complimented quietly, leaning close. "I am looking forward to the end of the feasting."
Madeline swayed in her seat and he chuckled. "Have no fear my innocent bride. I will be gentleness itself."
The minstrels strolled by, interrupting anything further Lord Endle might have intended to say. Standing before them, they serenaded the newlyweds with a beautifully haunting song of love lost. As the last note died away, a tear rolled down Madeline's cheek. Lord Endle reached over to wipe it away tenderly.
To the minstrels, he waved his hand. "Play something jovial, to return my bride's radiant smile to her face again," he ordered and they complied.
Eventually the feasting slowed and the guests began to push back from the tables with groans of fulfillment.
"Time for the bedding of the bride, me-thinks," came the drunken cry from one of Lord Endle's knights. A resounding agreement rose up from the others as they began to bang their pewter tankards on the tables in front of them. Geoffrey scowled.
"I have no argument nor need of further encouragement," Lord Endle shouted back and grinned. He stood and grasping Madeline's cold, shaking hand, he pulled her to her feet. With her other hand, she grabbed desperately for her goblet of wine and hurriedly gulped down the contents. Over the rim of the cup, she could see Nathaniel stagger from the hall, a wine bottle clutched tightly in his fist.
LOVE - what is love?
A great and aching heart;
Wrung hands; and silence;
and a long despair.
Life - what is life?
Upon a moorland bare
To see love coming
and see love depart.
~Robert Louis Stevenson
CHAPTER 10
The solemn priest who led the way before Madeline and Lord Endle, was in direct contrast to the festive gaiety of the merrymakers. Lord Endle held her arm tightly as they were swept towards the bridal chamber by the eager wedding guests. Whilst well intended and in good spirit, Madeline found the mob's exuberance and lewd repartee intimidating and disconcerting. She fervently wished she had partaken more abundantly of the wine during the feast, yet she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. She reached up with a shaking hand to rest it over the small leather pouch she had secreted in her bosom, the repercussions of her sin now abundantly clear.
They paused briefly as the priest pushed open the door to the bridal chamber. At once, the surge of jubilant merrymakers propelled them into the room. In the centre of the chamber stood a massive, heavy wooden bed, fit for a king. It was hung with a dark green canopy and matching brocade curtains embroidered with the earl's coat of arms, held back with gold-tasseled cords. The oaken posts were bevelled and intricately carved, extending upwards to hold the canopy high above the mattress. The expanse of the mattress was so vast that she suspected most of their guests could fit in it with them. Madeline eyed it warily, her stomach giving an unsettled lurch.
"It's your wedding gift. I had it made especially for you, my dear," Lord Endle said, leaning in close so she could hear him over the revelers.
"It is certainly very impressive, my Lord," she responded truthfully, averting her eyes from the wedding gift.
The priest's black robes swept the stone floor as he strode pompously to the bed. He delayed only briefly whilst the wedding guests streamed into the room. Flamboyantly he raised his right hand above the bed, waiting for the hush in the crowd, before he swept it in the sign of the cross. "Bless, O Lord who never sleepest nor slumbers, this sleeping chamber and thy servants who rest in this bed. Bless this woman who is joined to this man. May she be fruitful in childbearing, innocent, and of good report. May this man attain a desired old age, seeing his children's children, even unto the third and fourth generations. We beseech you thus O God. Amen." He
finished by sprinkling the bed and both the bride and groom with holy water.
As he moved back, a pretty, young woman stepped before Madeline and dropped into a low curtsey. "I am Muriel, my Lady. I am to be your maidservant if, Lord willing, I please you."
"I'm certain we will suit," Madeline agreed with a kind smile at the nervous woman.
The maid nodded and rose up.
"May I assist you in disrobing?" she asked softly.
Madeline reddened conspicuously but nodded at Muriel. The maid knelt before her and untied the garters that held her stockings, whilst Madeline furtively withdrew the tiny pouch Nate had given her and tucked it into her palm. The maid straightened and held a garter out to Lord Endle who, as was customary, flung it through the air into the crowd of guests. With great cheer and excitement the men dove for the small scrap of fabric. A brief skirmish ensued but the victor eventually rose from the pile of his competitors and with a shout of triumph, held the garter aloft.
"Well done," Lord Endle congratulated with a grin. "Now everyone out," he said as he waved them towards the door.
A low rumble of good-natured dismay and chagrin rose up from those who turned away but they were consoled that the festivities were not yet finished. For now they would linger in the hallway waiting for evidence of the bride's chastity. Later they planned to dance, drink, and feast until morn in the great hall. Lord Endle was an exceedingly generous bridegroom and had supplied barrels of the finest ale and tables of rich foods. Even the cottagers and serfs had been given food and drink to celebrate this momentous occasion.
The door banged closed behind the last guest and Muriel busied herself removing Madeline's blue overdress and gold kirtle, leaving her shivering in her chemise. She could see that the Keeper of the Wardrobe had also approached and was helping Lord Endle remove his hose and tunic. All the while the priest murmured prayers for their marriage.
The maid finished braiding Madeline's hair into a long, burnished copper plait, then turned back the silk coverlet and helped her into the bed. Lord Endle climbed in from the opposite side. Whilst Madeline huddled under the covers, he bade his manservant to pull the drapes, leaving them enclosed within a cocoon of rich green fabrics. The flickering candlelight was low and dappled within this private territory. Madeline stared at the canopy above her and tried to slow her breathing. Above the monotonous drone of the priest's godly petitions, she could hear the sounds of her maid, and the Lord's man, bustling about as they cared for the expensive bridal attire. She knew they, and the priest, would remain in the chamber as witnesses to the consummation of this important marriage.
"Madeline," she startled when Lord Endle spoke. "Look at me," he asked kindly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
She complied and turned her head on the bolster to meet his heated gaze.
"Your modesty pays homage to your chastity and innocence and I could not be more pleased with my choice of wife. You are, and will be, a source of great joy and pride for me."
Madeline could feel the sting of tears.
"Now, I'm told the first time is not so pleasant for a woman," he admitted sheepishly. "But be comforted that the pain will only be this once and I will endeavour to be as considerate as possible.
Unable to speak, she nodded. She understood her duty.
He moved towards her and rising up to his knees, knelt between her legs. Madeline squeezed her eyes shut but she felt the rush of cold air as he lifted her chemise to her waist. He nudged her legs apart gently and lay between them. She could feel a blunt probing at the entrance to her womanhood and forced herself to remain still. There was no pain when he pushed into her, just a dull ache where her heart should be. A tear escaped her eyelashes and trickled down.
Endle held still within her. "Ah my innocent Madeline. I am so sorry. Is it as bad as all that?"
She shook her head but kept her eyes tightly closed when she felt him begin to move inside her again. He was gentle and he didn't hurt her, but with her eyes closed she could place herself in another time and another place, in another man's bed.
It was over in a few short minutes, though it seemed an eternity to Madeline. Her husband shouted out and she felt him pulse within her as he made her his wife before God and witness.
* * *
Endle rolled off her, breathing heavily and Madeline reached up to pull her chemise down to cover herself. At the juncture of her legs she punctured the small bladder with her fingernail. The moisture dripped from her thigh onto the white linen beneath her and she said a prayer for forgiveness.
"Mayhap we have made a son," Endle said thoughtfully as he lay on his back. Madeline didn't, couldn't, respond. He turned onto his side and rested his head on his hand. "You are lovely and arousing Madeline and I regret any pain I caused you."
"It was only a brief pain," she responded weakly. "Tis to be expected."
"Unfortunately, there is yet another requirement before we may be left to ourselves," Endle shrugged and swung his bare legs over the edge of the bed.
"Retrieve the linens," he requested of the maid as he pushed back the bed curtains and stood.
Madeline also stood, her arms folded over her chest. She could see the deep red smear of blood tellingly visible against the pale whiteness of the bedding. She caught Lord Endle's eye as he also regarded the stain. A small smile turned up the corner of his mouth and he gazed adoringly at her.
Muriel whisked the linen off the bed and handed it to Endle. He made his way to the door of the chamber and the maid smoothed a fresh sheet back over the mattress.
As Lord Endle opened the door, a clamour arose from the assembled company, each pushing and shoving to see and hear what the Lord had to say. Madeline's misery was complete when he held up the bloodied bedsheet to the view of the anticipating crowd.
"Men, you should all envy me my good fortune in taking a beautiful and virtuous wife!" he said proudly above the roar of approval. "Women, you should strive to emulate the fine virtues of your new Lady," he shouted over the continued whoops and whistles of those assembled.
Madeline reddened in humiliation and sat quickly down on the side of the bed. Endle turned to look back over his shoulder at her and chuckled merrily at her discomposure.
"Let the celebrations continue!" he announced and closed the door behind him. He handed the marital sheet to Muriel and asked her to pack it away, then turned back to where Madeline sat in embarrassed and desolate silence. He walked over to her and patted her arm. "It is expected and necessary my love, though I am full of remorse for any unease you may have felt. Be assured that from this point onwards our intimate moments will be private."
She acknowledged his statement with a nod and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was her life from now on. Forlorn, she crawled back into the bed and rolled over, hugging the bolster tightly and willing herself not to shed any further tears nor to think of Nate.
* * *
Nathaniel stumbled out into the chill air of the evening. He staggered down the steps and sunk down to his knees on the ground as he retched into the dirt. Alcohol, fatigue, and misery combined to give him a swirling head that pounded with every beat of his heart. He knew he should take himself to his bed, but the knowledge of what was currently transpiring in the bridal chamber of Marbourne Keep, had him back on his feet in search of another cask of ale. From the outer bailey drifted the flicker of firelight and the muted sound of music. He lurched and reeled through the inner gate and soon found himself amongst the peasantry who were carousing and feasting as they celebrated the Lord's marriage. The music was lively and a smattering of couples danced nimbly about the bonfire. Others were gathered around the large barrel of ale that Nathaniel could see at the centre of the group. He made a beeline for the cask. All the other knights had remained in the keep and Nathaniel noticed absently that he was out of place. Nevertheless the local men clapped him heartily on the back and offered him a wooden tankard filled with ale, which he downed almost instantly. As he glanced around
, he could see dark silhouettes of couples entwined together in the shadows and he gave a low groan in pain at the sudden reminder of Madeline. Desperately, he attempted to pour himself another beer yet it seemed that the ale barrel kept moving whilst he tried to fill his tankard. He struggled with it for some moments before a hand entered his view and took the tankard from him. Deftly filling it, she handed it back once it was overflowing.
"Looked like ye needed some help," the wench grinned saucily at him. "Yer one o' the new knights, ain't ye?" she asked, scrutinizing him.
Nathaniel tried to focus on her face as he nodded.
"Why ye down with us lowly folks then?" she asked. "I 'spect the food is better in the castle," she barked with laughter and put her hands on her ample hips. "A big'un ain't ye?" she smirked when he didn't respond. "Ye big all over?" she asked boldly, leaning into him and pressing her abundant cleavage against his arm.
Nathaniel stared at her grinning face for a moment and then grabbed her arm. He pulled her along with him until they reached the stables.
"Nay need to rush my gallant knight," she laughed huskily. "I got all night for ye."
"Now," he ground out, his voice raspy with lack of use.
The strumpet turned to him and slowly, tantalizingly began to undo the laces of her kirtle until her generous breasts fell free of their restraints. Nathaniel felt himself grow hard at the sight.
"Kiss me, knight," she teased pursing her pillowy lips.
Nathaniel looked away, the gorge rising up in his throat. He swiftly grasped her by the arms and spun her away from him. He pushed her down to lay with her belly across a feed trough. She gave a low chuckle as he fumbled to release himself from his braies, and ground her bottom against his hardness.
