Overruled by Fate

by Leila Snow

  Muriel arrived a short time later. "I've gotten Lady Madeline to bed," she commenced breathlessly, the moment the door closed behind her. "I believe she will be receiving the attentions of the earl tonight."

  Geoffrey glared at her. "No doubt," he growled.

  "I haven't been able to give him his tonic for two days now," she continued, seemingly oblivious to his peevishness.

  "I'm well aware," he said sarcastically, struggling to control himself. "That must change if you ever want to be countess."

  She looked thoughtful a moment. "I suppose we could try to put it in his broth," she proposed.

  "Do you now?" he asked sarcastically. "Seeing as one of the scullery maids has been bringing it from the kitchens, how do you propose to do that?"

  "Mayhap, I could offer to go get it instead?" she pondered.

  "You simpleton!" Geoffrey exploded. "Why would they agree to that? Do you not think it suspicious for Lady Madeline’s maid to be running for broth? Nay, that will never work."

  She turned wide, hurt eyes on him and Geoffrey had to restrain himself from backhanding her.

  "I suppose I could sneak into the kitchen and pour some into each batch," she sniffed.

  "Yes! Good girl," he praised her and was rewarded with a small smile. "Make sure you put a generous splash in there, we don't need any repeats of tonight," he added.

  The maid nodded her understanding and Geoffrey moved to her, sneering unapologetically as he unlaced her kirtle.

  * * *

  Nathaniel awoke in his room with a throbbing headache. It wasn't unusual for him since Madeline's wedding. But since meeting Aileth, he had felt less need for ale, and had enjoyed the absence of headaches these last few morns. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He stretched his neck from side to side and then reached his hand up to massage the sore muscles. His hand froze in mid-air. A small, black shoe lay under the edge of the woven reed mat in the centre of the stone floor. He recognized that shoe. It was Aileth's. Suddenly a rush of vague memory swept ice cold over him. He looked down to see his braies open and knew it hadn't just been a dream. He had done the unpardonable.

  He groaned in self-loathing and put his aching head in his hands. Then he stood, somewhat unsteadily, and after having fastened his braies, he paced from one side of the stark room to the other. The guilt of his misdeed shook him to the core, and his mind was consumed with the possible repercussions. There was nothing for it. His honour wouldn't allow any other option. He sat on his pallet and tried to wrap his head around the idea. Images of Madeline flashed through his mind. Though he knew she could never be his, he had never considered marrying another. He had never wanted to. Yet his own self-centred dissoluteness had now determined otherwise. He must marry Aileth.

  He stood, knowing that procrastination would change nothing. Resolutely, with his jaw clenched, he readied himself for the necessary visit to Lord Endle.

  Fortuitously, Nathaniel found him alone in his solar. The earl looked markedly better than he had in weeks and Nathaniel said so.

  "I feel I have turned a corner," Lord Endle agreed. "Lady Madeline is wisdom itself and has nursed me back to health."

  "I am certainly very glad," Nathaniel responded properly, flinching slightly at the mention of his love's name.

  "Now," the nobleman said, sitting perfectly upright in his ornately crafted, high backed chair. "I can see you have come to me with a purpose today. Not begging to be relieved of your knighthood again, are you?" he asked, his eyes twinkling good-naturedly.

  "Nay, my Lord," Nathaniel expressed solemnly. "In fact, I believe I have met a woman who will keep me on the straight and narrow path. And I have come to beg for her hand in marriage."

  Lord Endle's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "I must say, that is unexpected," he finally confessed. "Mind, the love of a good woman will do that for a man. And who is this virtuous woman?"

  "Your niece, my Lord," Nathaniel said softly.

  "Aileth?" the man exclaimed. "But she is given to the church!"

  "Not yet," the knight reminded him.

  "Ahh," Lord Endle said pensively, as he stroked his short beard. He thought for several long minutes and Nathaniel stood motionless before him. Nathaniel's brow turned as his concern grew. Would he be able to deny the Lord the truth, if he was to press with further questions? And what of his honour as a knight? In a drunken stupor he had taken Aileth's maidenhead. He would not bring this innocent, sweet, good-hearted girl any further pain if he could prevent it. Nor would he allow her to be shamed because of his reckless action. He must marry Aileth! Lord Endle was a discerning and logical man indeed, and now he held Nathaniel's honour in his hands.

  Eventually, the earl asked, "Do you care for my niece?"

  "I have come to care for her a great deal over this last week. Her peacefulness and serenity are soothing to me," he answered truthfully.

  "And do you have any reason to believe that she reciprocates these feelings?" Lord Endle enquired searchingly.

  "I do," Nathaniel replied.

  "In that case, you have no objection if I ask about her preference in the matter?" the Lord asked pointedly.

  "Nay, my Lord," he replied.

  Lord Endle rose and walked steadily to the door. Opening it, he peered out into the hallway and summoned a page. "Fetch Sister Marie Augustine to me," he commanded. Turning back to Nathaniel, he said, "You may stay whilst I speak to her."

  * * *

  Aileth was white as a new snow when she entered her uncle's solar and noticed Nathaniel leaning against the mantle. He straightened, prepared to catch her should she fall into a swoon. She looked very much like she might. But he was reminded of her tenacity when she straightened her shoulders and met Lord Endle's direct gaze.

  "You wanted to see me, Uncle?" she asked in her soft voice.

  "Indeed, my dear," he answered. "You see, I have had rather an unexpected visit today from Sir Nathaniel. Have you any idea what he might have wanted to discuss with me?"

  "Nay, my Lord," she said, hanging her head. Nathaniel thought he could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes and his guilt chewed at his soul.

  "He has asked for your hand, child," Lord Endle answered kindly. "There is no need for such a bleak countenance. It is an honour to have such an esteemed knight regard you so highly."

  Her head shot up and she turned a disbelieving look towards Nathaniel.

  "Aye," her uncle chuckled. "I see that Sir Nathaniel was correct when he said he had reason to believe his feelings were reciprocated."

  "His feelings?" Aileth asked incredulously, her mild, brown eyes searching Nathaniel's for answers.

  "He has professed a deep affection for you."

  Her eyes widened, still searching his. Then she remembered how deeply he loved another, and shook her head.

  Nathaniel quickly spoke up. "I beg you to consider all the circumstances before you decline my genuine offer."

  Aileth had thought of little else but circumstances and consequences since she had left Nathaniel's bed. As such, she knew that her choices were few. She could not return to the convent with a clean heart. Yet, the fact still remained that the woman he loved was married to another. Though perhaps, maybe, he could find love and a peace with her.

  She looked back to Lord Endle. "Do you ask my blessing, Uncle?"

  "Aye, Aileth, I do," he assured her. "You have been a good and sweet child. I have long viewed you as my own. Your happiness is of utmost importance."

  "But the convent..." she murmured. "You have already given them a dowry which they can ill-afford to repay."

  "Do not concern yourself," her uncle comforted her. "I will not ask the convent for its return. So what say you?"

  "I have a great love and affection for Sir Nathaniel," she confided. "It would be an honour and my greatest joy to be his wife."

  "Very well then!" Lord Endle exclaimed happily. "That is settled. Of course, we must keep the accord concealed until I have had time to petition the ki
ng when we arrive to court. I do not foresee any argument, but as you are a noblewoman and Sir Nathaniel is not, the possibility exists." He continued, "Pending royal approval, I have decided to gift you the estate that borders Marbourne to the east, Cullenthorpe. It is a handsome estate and the lands are bounteous."

  "Nay, my Lord," Nathaniel blurted out. "I could not accept. I am not worthy of such a dispensation."

  "Nonsense," the earl said, ignoring his protests. "If you are to be married to my niece, then she must have an adequate home. She cannot live in the barracks with you. Being landed will also ensure the king's agreement to your betrothal."

  Nathaniel knew he spoke the truth. And with a heavy heart he acquiesced. "Of course, my Lord, your reasoning is flawless. I bow to your kind and generous gesture."

  Lord Endle nodded, pleased. "Now, I suggest we not mention this, even to Lady Madeline. Should the king refuse, it would be very upsetting to her. As you and she have been raised close as kin, she is bound to be overjoyed at the very mention of having you join the family, Sir Nathaniel."

  Both Aileth and Nathaniel blanched, and their eyes met across the room.

  * * *

  Madeline was in the kitchens overseeing the appropriate provisions for the long day's journey to Woodstock. This included, most importantly, a fresh batch of bone broth for Lord Endle. It seemed to be giving him an added vigor and strength the last several days. Whilst she did not enjoy his renewed physical affections, she had developed a love and respect for the man, which ensured she did not want to see him suffering.

  It was confounding to her how many different types of love existed. She had a love for her father. She had a love for her nurse, and Lord Endle. Mothers had a love for their children. Absently she pressed her hand to her belly wondering if she would ever have that privilege. Then, in a category on its own, there was the love she bore Nate. She now understood what that longing to be with him meant. Her craving just to be in his presence. The emptiness she felt when he was not near. The desire to touch him and be touched by him. She loved him as a woman loves a man. The stolen night with him had not been simply about knowledge and opportunity. It had been about her need for him, and the imminent loss of their closeness. Unfortunately, she was only just realising this.

  Nate's presence had always provided her an excitement and happiness. Laughing together at inside jokes and sneaking silly winks at each other during mealtimes. Rambling the countryside together and sharing hopes, dreams, and fears with each other. His friendship and devotion had always been her greatest joy. Now she found that when he was near her heart suffered a slow, steady pain from which she could find no relief. But worse yet was his absence. When he was gone from her, she felt as if she were no longer whole, that a vital piece of herself had been stolen. The pain then was excruciatingly unbearable. And so she lived for brief glimpses of him across the great hall or during his trainings. Brief moments when the terrible pain lessened to just a steady ache.

  He hadn't been in the great hall during the meal last eve, and she had prayed wherever he was, that he was safe and well. She had continued searching the room for him but he had never appeared. Once, she had seen Geoffrey's sister watching her with such a look of sympathetic understanding that, for a moment, she believed the girl knew. But of course the thought was ludicrous.

  Madeline finished in the kitchens and she proceeded to Lord Endle's solar. She wanted to ask if there were any further duties she could assist with in preparation for their travels. As she approached, Endle's niece swept out of the room, followed directly by Nate. Madeline flinched, the familiar bolt of pain and pleasure shooting through her veins at the sight of him.

  The nun scurried off in the opposite direction without a backward glance but Madeline paid her no mind. Her attention was on the big knight.

  "Nate," she breathed.

  "Linny," he uttered heavily, and halted in front of her. "The sword fight..." he began.

  "We will not discuss it," Madeline said firmly, shaking her head. He had already been forgiven.

  "Aye, we will," he said sadly. "I cannot continue to go on without telling you of the heartbreak and anguish born by my actions. You have my utmost and most sincere apologies. I cannot adequately convey my self-loathing. Did I hurt you?" he whispered.

  "Nay," she murmured. "You never would."

  "I have not been myself," he apologized. "But I have no excuse."

  "Nate, please..." She swayed towards him, as the longing for his arms to surround her became unbearable.

  "Ahh, my lovely bride," Lord Endle spoke, causing them both to startle. "I see you and Sir Nathaniel are making amends. I am most happy to see it."

  Madeline nodded. But she was unable to turn away from the fathomless depth of pain she saw reflected in Nate's blue eyes. It was the mirror of the anguish she saw in her own green ones, when she looked in her polished silver mirror each morn.

  I love thee to the depth

  and breadth and height

  My soul can reach,

  when feeling out of sight

  For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

  I love thee to the level of everyday’s

  Most quiet need,

  by sun and candle-light.

  ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  CHAPTER 19

  "I have sent a harbinger ahead to forewarn the Monastery of St. Benedict of our arrival this eve," Lord Endle explained to Madeline as they readied themselves for the day's journey.

  "Are you well enough to travel, husband?" she asked worriedly. After several days of improved health, Endle seemed once again to be failing.

  "Of course," he brushed aside her concern. "Do not fret, my dear. I am well enough."

  She smiled and nodded, but the unhealthy yellowish tinge to his skin did not reassure her of the truth of his words.

  "I believe everything is readied and packed," she informed him reluctantly. Her thoughts had not strayed far from the king's lascivious comment to her during the tournament. She was apprehensive of his intentions and incredibly troubled as to whether she would be able to fend him off. "Endle," she suddenly blurted out, a moment of panic gripping her. "When the king was here..."

  "Yes?" he said, pausing mid toilette.

  Madeline quickly endeavoured to regain her composure. "It is nothing," she vacillated, unwilling to cause him any further distress whilst he was ill.

  "Very well then," her husband said with a kind smile. "Shall we be off?"

  "Indeed," she replied, pushing her concerns aside as she took his arm and they departed the keep.

  * * *

  The courtyard was teeming with pack horses, luggage carts, knights, and servants all scurrying about, preparing for the household's move to the royal palace. It was a massive undertaking. Theirs would not be a small procession. They were accompanied by no fewer than half-a-dozen luggage carts and the same number of pack horses, not to mention, at least a score of servants and twice that number of knights. The remainder of the garrison would remain at Marbourne for defence.

  "My Lord," Madeline said as they stood in the bailey surrounded by the noise and chaos, "Can I persuade you to ride in the litter?"

  "Nay, my dear," he answered immediately. "I appreciate that your suggestion is based on kind thoughtfulness, but it would not do for the men to see me riding in a litter as if an invalid. I shall ride."

  "Very well," she agreed grudgingly, understanding his reluctance.

  Lord Endle mounted and gestured for Sir Hugh to assist Lady Madeline, which he did. Now taller than most of the crowd, Madeline scanned the throng searching for Nate. She found him easily, standing a head taller than the surrounding knights. He was assisting Sister Marie Augustine into her saddle. Madeline smiled a bitter-sweet smile. He had ever been the gallant.

  With a trumpet blast from the heralds, the entourage filed from the castle and wound their way down the steep slope of the craggy escarpment. They filed past the edge of Marbourne village. With the heralds playing, and the
flags emblazoned with the Marbourne coat of arms flying, they caused such a commotion that the villagers emerged from their homes and workplaces to wave and cheer them on their way.

  * * *

  By noonday they had departed the rugged higher lands and made their way methodically down through the valleys. Travel was easier in these rolling hills and the wind not as fierce. They stopped briefly at a small river to stretch their legs and water the horses. But the entourage was soon mounted again as the monastery was still several hours ride and it was imperative they reach it before nightfall. With such a large retinue of knights accompanying them, there was little fear of brigands or thieves. Yet the road was too treacherous to traverse in the darkness and the weather too inclement to comfortably spend the night outside.

  A short time later, Nathaniel sidled his massive gelding up beside Aileth's petite mare.

  "I seem to be forever apologizing for my actions these days," he began penitently. "Though my offers of remorse are no less sincere for it."

  Aileth turned her face towards him and searched his guilt-ridden countenance. Her gentle brown eyes troubled.

  "Do you lay all the blame for what occurred at your own feet?" she asked softly.

  "I do indeed, my Lady," he met her eye.

  "I see," she said gently. "Do you remember the events of that night?" she enquired, blushing prettily.

  "Is it of consequence whether I remember or not?" he asked gently. "I know what occurred between us. Do you deny it?"

  "Nay," she replied, barely above a whisper. "Though I have not the conscience to allow you to assume all the burden of culpability. It was what I wanted."

  A smile slowly spread across Nathaniel's face, relief replacing the self-contempt. "Truly?" he asked.

  "Aye," she replied. "I believe the important query here is, 'Do you want this marriage?' I would not, for anything, bind you to a union that will cause you further pain. Especially considering..." she gestured gracefully and without malice toward Madeline, who rode with Lord Endle ahead of them.