Written in the Stars

by Sherrill Bodine

  Laurel’s wavering smile tore at Will’s already bruised heart. “Laurel is very brave,” he declared to his brother. Blue steel meeting dark, their gazes clashed before Carlyle moved to Elizabeth’s side, taking her hand to kiss her wrist.

  “Now that our sweet Laurel is recovered, we must continue the celebrations for our wedding.” Slowly he ran a fingertip along the delicate bones of her face.

  Common sense told Will to remove his hand from his sword hilt and step away to calm his pounding need to protect Elizabeth from his brother.

  It was she who stepped away, shaking her head. “I feel I should still stay by Laurel’s side until she is fully recovered.”

  Will felt Elizabeth’s tension from across the room and cursed the fact he could do nothing to ease it.

  Pain gripped his gut as he remembered how he had been used to put her in this harm’s way. Long had he suspected Carlyle of cruelty and vices, yet he had been eager to offer the unknown Elizabeth York for her money and the power behind her lands into such a man’s keeping.

  It is no balm to my conscience that it was done for the betterment of the linage. Does any man have the right to order another’s life in such a way?

  “Yes, Carlyle is correct.” The duke’s long strides carried him quickly into the chamber and to Laurel’s side. She stretched out her hand and he held it, his eyes scanning each of their faces. “The fair in honor of the wedding must proceed. The people need a reason to celebrate. They need to feel safe and share in our happiness at this great alliance.”

  Will watched Elizabeth, wanting to somehow give her his strength.

  Eyes shadowed, she nodded. “I understand, your Grace. When do you wish us to attend?”

  “There is no need to wait longer. The sky is to be full of stars this night.”

  Laurel laughed softly. “My lord speaks true, Elizabeth. It will give me pleasure to think of you at the fair. Such a merry place full of wondrous sights.” She glanced up at the duke. “You must also attend with Elizabeth and Carlyle, my lord.”

  “No, my dear, I shall stay with you,” He lifted her hand to his lips.

  “I would also like to stay,” Will said quietly, meeting his father’s steely eyes.

  His father did not offer this night, nor did Will ask for it. Solemn, the duke nodded. “Yes. Your lieutenant shall accompany them.”

  Knowing his father well, knowing he was again reminding him that duty must prevail, Will conquered every movement, every expression, not wanting to betray his decision. Tonight he would tell his father his true thoughts. He glanced at Elizabeth’s profile, she held her chin high, her back straight. Tomorrow he would fall on his knees before her asking forgiveness for leaving her, for casting away this gift between them of a love he never dreamed possible. Ask for forgiveness for not fighting for her as his heart told him he must while his honor forbid it. He felt his grandfather’s eyes watching him and, turning, saw that Charles Grey already knew what had to be done.

  …

  Triumphant, Carlyle impatiently awaited Florea in his chamber. He dampened the fire to embers and snuffed all but a few candles.

  Out of the darkness she materialized. He lifted one of her hands, squeezing it between his palms. “You saw true. My father is eager to continue the festivities for the wedding. The alliance must be forged. Elizabeth and I are to attend the fair this night.”

  Florea’s thin lips curled. She nodded. “Present her with this.”

  He took the nosegay of tight purple flowers and blood red berries he didn’t recognize. Curious, he raised it to his nose, breathing deeply.

  The fragrance surrounded him, filling his senses with bliss. He chuckled. “A love potion?”

  “Tell Elizabeth it will keep away the stink of the animals and the foul smell of others at the fair. In truth it will cause her to see the world in brighter colors and be open to the feelings of others around her. To you, Carlyle.” Florea stroked his arm. “Dazzle her with your charm, of which you possess much.” She pressed closer, her words soft yet firm. “The old gods have shown me that on the day after the morrow, you must take her to the sacred place. There you must show Elizabeth your true self and she will discover that which is within her.”

  Excitement coursed through him and it was not the nosegay which made him burn with love for this old woman.

  “Thanks to my Flower.” He gently kissed her cold, dry lips. “Because of the love you bear me, I shall at last possess all the power I deserve.”

  …

  As the duke had declared, the star-filled sky was a bright canopy for the fair as Alice and Elizabeth entered the festivities. Behind them paced Carlyle and the red-haired soldier Elizabeth now knew was Tom Chatham, Will’s lieutenant.

  It should be Will here with me. Why did he choose to forfeit these bittersweet hours we could share?

  “I say again, I see no reason to carry the thing. The sights, sounds, and smells of the fair are the fun of it.” Alice, sensible to her fingertips, gazed with narrowed eyes at the nosegay Elizabeth carried.

  With her tired mind and stricken heart Elizabeth had not been clever enough to come up with an excuse when Carlyle had offered it.

  She held the nosegay at arm’s length and also eyed it with disfavor. “It is pretty enough. What is it that bothers us so about it?”

  “The berries!” Alice shouted and then glanced behind her, as did Elizabeth. The men were in discussion about the strength of the troops and appeared not to have heard.

  “Good.” Alice sighed. “Would not want to embarrass Carlyle, but those berries look like the sort Granny Cybil once showed us to always avoid.”

  Elizabeth studied a blood red, irregularly shaped berry. “I remember. The ones which make you see the world false.”

  “Couldn’t be, of course. Yet.” Before Elizabeth could stop her, Alice whisked the nosegay from her hand, disposing it neatly in a bucket of slop at the edge of a shed holding sows. “If it is the berries, those will be the happiest pigs in the kingdom.”

  As they were being buffered by fairgoers and vendors shouting out their wares, Carlyle did not seem to notice the loss of her gift.

  Satisfied, Alice turned her attention to the atmosphere of gaiety surrounding her.

  To Elizabeth, her senses sharpened by confusion about these magical powers she seemed to possess and a growing rebellion against her fate and Will’s, the fair spread out before her like a nightmare prism of animals and people trying to sell her everything from false gold to puppets to hot pies. The aroma of strong beer and sizzling food caused her stomach to gently stir in distress.

  She stiffened her resolve and lifted her chin when Alice hesitated at the toy stall. Her face was as bright as a new penny. She picked up a rattle, gave it a good shake, and chuckled at the loud, jarring retort. “This can serve for my sister Jane’s new babe.” She slid Elizabeth a sly look. “Jane won’t be thanking me for it.”

  Elizabeth smiled, knowing the sisterly rivalry which existed between them.

  Suddenly at her side, Carlyle stiffened, frowning down at Elizabeth’s empty hand. “Where is your nosegay?”

  Feigning surprise and distress, Elizabeth glanced around. “I must have dropped it making my way through the crowd.” In way of an apology, she clutched his arm, holding it to her side. “The fair is as wondrous as Laurel promised. Shall we continue?”

  He stared down at her for two thumps of her heart before he smiled, shifting so their bodies touched more firmly. “Yes. The dancing is ahead.”

  Tom took possession of the rattle as far as the next booth, where they were met by the delicious aroma of cinnamon, figs, and ginger.

  “Granny Cybil swears sucking on pieces of ginger aids digestion,” Alice declared and promptly bought a bag of it.

  Heroically, Tom also bore that parcel, a bundle of lace, an
d two sets of playing cards, one of which Alice planned to send back to Wharton Keep, along with the annoying rattle.

  Watching Alice’s progress though the fair lightened Elizabeth’s heavy heart, making it possible for her to smile and to not cringe away when Carlyle touched her shoulder or their bodies brushed tightly together in the hustle of the merrymakers.

  How different my feelings would be if it was Will by my side, as I know he surely is meant to be.

  “Oh, look! There are the acrobats,” Alice gasped, obvious delight on her face.

  They watched with awed disbelief at the five men performing their leaps and contortions. Even Carlyle appeared amazed by their tricks.

  Laughing, his face looking younger, he held her arm to lead her deeper into the festival.

  She heard the lute, fiddles, and recorders being played with great energy before they reached their destination.

  Couples were dancing in a rectangle, their steps much simpler and less intricate than those performed at court.

  “I prefer dancing the Black Nag or the Petticoat Wag, but this one be a bit of fun.” Eyes bright, Alice watched the dancers and tapped her foot in rhythm.

  Elizabeth caught Carlyle’s eyes and sent a silent plea.

  He smiled. “Tom, I shall hold those packages. I believe Maid Alice would like to dance.”

  Almost before Tom had made the transfer of gifts into Carlyle’s waiting arms, Alice grabbed his hand, pulling him into the rectangle of dancers.

  In the torchlight surrounding them, Alice’s brown curls shone, bobbing about her face, as nearly as red as Tom’s hair.

  Again Elizabeth sought Carlyle’s eyes. “That was very kind of you, my lord.”

  “I can be, you know,” he said in the same winsome voice he had used when she’d come upon him with Florea.

  Guilt weighted heavily on her for all the rebellious plans whirling through her mind to avoid marrying him so that she could be with his brother.

  “That I will come to discover. I know you are a fine dancer and I shall enjoy your skill again tonight.” She smiled with what she hoped was encouragement, for she knew the villagers expected a dance from the betrothed couple.

  Still holding hands, and their faces split in wide grins, Alice and Tom rejoined them. Immediately Carlyle transferred the packages, took Elizabeth by the hand, and led her into the circle of dancers performing the Branie.

  Carlyle’s sideways steps, his every movement, were done with skill and grace.

  She hoped she was comporting herself as the villagers expected and deserved, for her mind was not on the dance steps, but on Carlyle. His hair, like the duke’s and Will’s, glistened as brightly as newly minted gold. His dark, hooded eyes were wide apart. His shoulders broad. Indeed everything about Carlyle would make most women swoon.

  Why, like I did with the nosegay, do I distrust what I see? Yet in one glance I knew Will’s heart and soul.

  The lively jig followed, and knowing her duty, she smiled and followed as best as she could. Breathing heavier after expertly executing several small leaps, Carlyle led her back to where Alice and Tom waited.

  “I believe it is time to return to the castle,” he declared.

  Exhausted from pretending to enjoy herself without Will, Elizabeth nodded and pulled Alice to her side. As before, the men paced behind them.

  They had passed the lace stall when Elizabeth felt a tug on her gown and, looking down, saw an old man with a winking green stone in one ear. He flashed her a gold-toothed smile.

  “I know your fortune, my lady. Let me tell it to you.” His tent, its flap open, lay behind him.

  Instinct made her stop. “Yes, I believe I shall let you tell me the future.”

  Carlyle lifted one eyebrow. “By all means, amuse yourself. We shall wait here.”

  “Oh, no, I won’t. I’m going in with her.” Alice followed closely behind as the gypsy lead Elizabeth away.

  Once inside the tent, the man dropped the flap, cutting off the fair sounds. Elizabeth crossed on rag rugs covering the ground to an unsteady-looking chair beside a small table. The air was stuffy and carried the faint smell of garlic.

  The gypsy seated himself across from her. “Give me your hand, my lady.”

  Palm up, she placed her right hand before him on the black, cloth-covered table.

  Smiling, his gold teeth gleaming in the candlelight, he looked down.

  His expression abruptly changed.

  “Don’t sit there with your mouth hanging open and your eyes bugging out of your skull. Say something. What do you see?” Alice demanded to know.

  “Life. Death.” The gypsy jumped up so quickly his chair toppled over. “No more.”

  “I could have done a better job of it and I don’t have the eye.” Alice snorted.

  I saw his eyes and they were full of terror for me.

  Elizabeth rose, took a coin from the small silk purse at her wrist, and placed it on the table.

  “Don’t give this charlatan a penny!” Alice lunged for the table but the gypsy was quicker, snatching the coin and backing deeper into the shadows of the tent.

  “Great danger,” he whispered.

  The sounds of the fair returned and an instant later they were gone.

  Still seething in indignation, Alice stared after him. “Man had an escape route in the back. No doubt to save himself from dissatisfied customers.”

  Elizabeth grabbed her arm to look steadily into her eyes. “Promise you will say nothing of this.”

  Lips pressed in a tight line, Alice nodded.

  Emerging from the tent, they found Carlyle looking bored and Tom with an expectant gleam in his wide eyes.

  “No, there will be no telling our secrets to you.” Alice laughed up at him.

  Once again Elizabeth took Alice’s arm so they could walk side by side and hoped her dear friend would not have a bruise from the pressure of her fingers.

  Reaching the castle, Elizabeth forced herself to move and act normally and not betray the growing unease she felt all around her.

  Great danger from where? From whom?

  At last they reached her chamber door and she quickly turned to bid Carlyle a good night.

  He clasped her hand, carrying it to his lips. “Rest tonight and tomorrow. You are pale. A ride in the brisk air will return the roses to your cheeks. Ride with me the day after.”

  Knowing she must chart an honorable course for all of them out of this torment, she nodded. “Yes, Carlyle, I shall ride with you.”

  …

  Once Tom reported the fairgoers had arrived safely back in the castle, Will walked to his father’s chambers.

  As he did every night, the duke sat in his large carved chair before the fire and waited for him.

  Tonight, Will knew, would be different than all others before.

  He took a stance in front of the fire, much as his father had done earlier.

  The duke lifted his eyes to meet Will’s steady gaze. “Tell me.”

  “I love Elizabeth. I want her for myself.”

  The shock of saying aloud what was in his heart and soul instead of what he had intended to ask, caused him to grip the mantle, his fingers turning white.

  “Do you plan to take her up before you on your horse and flee to Europe? Sell your sword to kings and princes for coin? Disgraced, neither of you would be received by any but the lowest among us. I wonder if you will think of those you leave behind. The men, women, and children who will suffer and perhaps die because you put them in harm’s way without the protection and prosperity of alliances made between leaders. Can such love flourish in soil tainted by your selfishness and dishonor?”

  Stunned by such words spoken in disdain by his father, Will straightened in boiling anger and disbelief. “Are these the w
ords your father used when he convinced you to betray and desert my mother?”

  Watching his father’s face crumple felt like a kick to his chest, taking away his power to breathe.

  In two steps he was in front of his father and fell on one knee. “I was seized by madness. I came to ask permission to gather a troop of men to inspect and fortify our borders. To leave to preserve my honor, not to bring you this pain. Forgive me.”

  “How can I forgive when I have never forgiven myself?” With trembling fingers, he gripped Will’s shoulder. In the firelight the tears drifting down his face sparkled, starkly revealing his pain. “I would give you my heart to feast upon if it could change the past. I know well the love you feel and the agony of your choices.”

  “Is it right that we must make such choices for others? Should they not be free to make their own?” Will asked quietly, his chest tight with regret.

  “In another time, another place, such ideas may flourish and bear fruit. This is our time and our place.” The duke rose and Will followed. He looked into cornflower-blue eyes so much like his own. “Out of my love I grant you free choice, Will, to do what your honor dictates and your heart can bear. Whatever you choose, I vow I shall do everything in my power to protect you and Elizabeth from all who might harm you. And I pledge I shall try to make amends to Wharton Keep to protect the peace between us.”

  Knowing his father spoke the truth, the only decision Will could make settled into his soul.

  …

  After Alice, still laughing and reliving her dance with Tom, retired, Elizabeth lay wide-eyed, haunted by waking nightmares.

  Her body, awakened to its needs by Will’s touch, ached for him. She craved his strength. Wanted to bask in the security his arms offered.

  Together we are invincible.

  The thought came from deep inside her. From the place she was only beginning to know and still did not fully understand.

  She rose and padded to the chest where the celestial girdle slept.

  Holding it, running her fingertips over the jewels, the golden crescents of the waxing moon, she sought answers to the questions plaguing her.