Overruled by Fate

by Leila Snow

  “Nay, Papa, but I did not love him as I should have,” she murmured. “And now I repeat the mistakes of the past.”

  “I have given my blessing and signed my name to this marriage contract,” her father insisted gently. “I would not have done so if I did not think it would make you happy. I also can learn from the mistakes of the past,” he stated pensively, giving his beloved daughter a smile. “Might I ask why you have not enquired nor sought to learn the name of your intended?” he questioned.

  “I know not,” she confessed. “It seemed as though I was impervious to reality if I could avoid the name. Why have you not told me?” she queried in kind.

  “The king insisted we not tell you unless you asked. Some foolishness about teaching you to trust those who care for you,” he shrugged. Then he laughed, “Clearly the king has no comprehension of your stubborn tenacity!”

  Madeline flushed and further conversation was silenced as they approached the chapel.

  As if in a recurring dream, a throng of peasants and guests milled about outside, indeed in such quantity that Madeline was once again unable to see her betrothed. The sea of humanity parted as the minstrels led the way, strumming and singing songs of love and fidelity.

  Madeline cast her eyes to the ground as they proceeded, unable to look into the face of the stranger who would soon become her husband. She made a herculean attempt to quell the hysteria that began to swell within her and she feared she might run or begin screaming like a lunatic at the injustices of life.

  Silently as a wraith, she climbed the stone steps to the door of the chapel, clutching her father’s arm. When they stopped outside the door, she could see the black robes of the priest as they swept across the flagstone floor. Lord John stepped from Madeline’s side and she forced herself to release his arm from her grasping fingers. He touched his lips to her cold cheek in an affectionate kiss, and then his presence departed her, leaving her alone, once again.

  The priest began with the familiar words, “Beloved, we are gathered here, at this time and on this day, which has been appointed for the solemnization of…” Madeline tuned the words out and concentrated on slowing her breathing. She felt a blackness rushing towards her when a large, calloused hand reached out to grasp her small, cold, shaking ones. The familiarity of the touch brought tears to her eyes and she raised them to regard her betrothed.

  Nate stood before her, his precious blue eyes searching hers with concern, his grip tight and comforting on her hands. Madeline opened her mouth to cry out but no sound emerged. She clung to his hands as if she were drowning, whilst praying that if this were a dream she would not awaken. He smiled his lopsided grin at her and Madeline began to breathe again, gulping air like it was the finest ambrosia. She beamed beatifically at him then turned her head to direct the smile to her father and the king who stood there beside him. Her father gave her a grin and Edward returned a small, pained smile. Immediately she knew what it had cost the king to give her up and that he had loved her enough to do it.

  Suddenly, she realised the priest had begun the vows and she repeated them wholeheartedly as she gazed into the deep pools of Nate’s eyes.

  “Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone.

  I give ye my Body, that we Two might be one.

  I give ye my Spirit, ’till our Life shall be Done.

  I take Thee to mine hand and mine heart,

  To be my chosen One.

  To desire and be desired by Thee;

  To possess Thee and be possessed by Thee;

  Without sin or shame,

  For Naught can exist in the purity of my Love for Thee.”

  She finished as tears of joy dripped from her eyes to fall on their clasped hands. Nate repeated the same back to her in his low, solemn voice. More precious or meaningful words had never been spoken nor heard.

  They didn’t release the other’s hand but held them tightly as they dispersed a purse of coins amongst the commoners. And when they entered the church for the mass they clutched them still. Kneeling, side pressed against side, they bowed their heads and whilst the priest intoned the mass, they gave thanks and praise for the blessing of this day, which neither had thought would ever come.

  When they rose and Nate pressed the sweet, poignant Kiss of Peace upon her parted lips, Madeline thought she would die of happiness. To great cheers and tossed flower petals and coins, they departed the chapel.

  The minstrels preceeded them towards the castle as the peasants wished them well and danced to the merry tunes. Madeline, her hand still clutched in Nathaniel’s, looked up to the blue sky and the birds that swooped and dove joyously in the warm breeze. She smiled and felt as if she could fly with them. Looking back at the cause of her joy, she saw the mischievous twinkle in his eyes just before he swept her into his arms and pressed a long, deep kiss to her waiting mouth, much to the amusement and delight of the crowd. Madeline kissed him back with all the love in her heart.

  “Must we attend the feast?” he muttered against her lips.

  “Regretfully,” Madeline teased.

  * * *

  They were seated at the high table but this time Montagu was seated next to the king, with the newly-weds to his right. In years to come, Madeline would insist that she remembered naught of their wedding feast, whilst Nate would insist that all he could remember was his love’s beautiful smile.

  “Hardly a fitting wedding gown,” he teased her as he tucked a sweet fig between her lips. He nearly swooned like a maid when she licked the warm, sweetness from her mouth.

  “I thought it was,” Madeline smiled. “Black for melancholy. Red for martyrdom,” she laughed.

  “I shall endeavour not to be offended,” he retorted dryly, an eyebrow raised.

  “Nate!” she exclaimed laughingly. “I knew not that it was you.”

  “Well, that explains your pallor at the church. I did wonder. How did you not know?” he questioned horrified. “I spoke with the king and also your father, not to mention that the banns were posted. I promised you I would never let you go again!”

  “The king forbade anyone tell me,” she explained. “And I was too stubborn to ask or to read the banns.”

  “If he wasn’t the king…” Nate muttered darkly.

  “It matters not,” Madeline said happily. “Nothing matters now. All is right with the world.”

  He laughed. “Ah, my sweet Linny,” he said with a secret smile. “You were never one to be down for long.”

  She beamed at him.

  “Now, do me the honour of dancing with me, wife?” he asked, rising and holding out a hand.

  “I can think of nothing I would rather do, husband,” she agreed.

  “Nothing?” he questioned seductively. And a swirling commenced in her belly whilst she blushed.

  They spent several hours dancing and enjoying the troubadour, until finally, Nathaniel stood and begged to depart. They made their leave amongst a group of guests who pushed them along in a festive, rambunctious frenzy to Madeline’s chamber. When they arrived and would have entered along with the newly wedded pair, Nathaniel held up his hand.

  “Nay, my friends,” he shouted good-naturedly. “I have spent a lifetime admiring this maid from afar and I will now do my admiring up close, and alone.”

  His announcement was met by cheers and amiable groans of disappointment. Ignoring them, he once again swept his bride into his arms, and as compensation for the crowd, he lowered his head to take her mouth in a long, lingeringly passionate kiss. Without raising his mouth from hers, he kicked the door open and strode into the room.

  Madeline wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to draw his kiss ever deeper. Long moments later they were interrupted when the nurse awkwardly cleared her throat.

  “My apologies,” Nathaniel pleaded with a wink to the blushing nurse. “I’m finding myself overcome and overwrought by my beautiful bride.”

  Madeline struggled briefly and Nate set her down.

  “You may l
eave now,” she smiled at the woman.

  “Would you like me to take the babe to the wet nurse?” she asked.

  “Nay,” Madeline insisted, holding out her arms for Matthias. “I will keep him with me as usual.”

  The nurse nodded and rushed out of the room as fast as her short legs would carry her.

  “I believe we may have shocked the poor woman,” Nate chuckled.

  Madeline agreed with a grin.

  “Now that we are finally alone,” he began. “I have a wedding gift for you.”

  “Nay,” she said, dismayed. “I have nothing for you.”

  “You are all I need,” he answered. “Besides, in actual fact, I return something to your possession rather than gifting it.”

  Madeline frowned, confused, as he pulled a small, engraved wooden box from beneath his tunic. He knelt before her and she resisted the ever-present urge to run her fingers through his hair and pull his head to her bosom.

  Carefully, he opened the lid of the box to reveal an intricately wrought, filigreed gold pendant with an emerald that consumed the centre of the jewellery. Tears flooded her eyes as he lifted the pendant and fastened it about her neck.

  “I kept it always with me,” he began earnestly. “The emerald was a constant reminder of the beauty of your eyes. But I no longer have need of such a poor replacement, I can now regard those most perfect green eyes anytime I wish.”

  “Oh, Nate,” she said, her hand over her mouth. She wrapped her free arm about him and they clung desperately together, as if time no longer existed, until they were reminded of it when the babe began to fuss.

  “Perhaps you might like to fetch some ale or wine,” she asked Nate hesitantly.

  “Indeed, I do not,” he asserted. “Why ever would I want to leave you? The dream might disappear,” he added quite earnestly.

  “I must feed the babe is all,” she said with a blush.

  “By all means,” he said as he settled himself in a comfortable chair before the fire. “I’ve seen you feed him several times before, if you will recall.”

  Madeline flushed again. “That was different,” she contended.

  “Aye, it was,” he agreed, the twinkle back in his eye. “We weren’t married then. If it is possible to be more fortunate than we already are, I hope for many opportunities to watch you feed a babe at your delectable breasts.”

  Realizing the foolishness of her modesty before Nate, Madeline sat down and undoing the ties of her dress, put the baby to nurse.

  He watched the two silently for a few moments, a tender smile on his face. “Why did you name him Matthias?” he questioned into the comfortable space between them.

  Madeline gazed down at the contented infant whose tiny hand had reached up to clutch the pendant that hung between her breasts. “His name means ‘Gift from God’,” she whispered poignantly. “Just as your name, ‘Nathaniel’ does.”

  She saw moisture well in her love’s eyes and he swallowed reflexively a few times. “It is strange,” he finally said slowly, “The boy bears no resemblance to his father.”

  “Oh but he does,” Madeline said, smiling lovingly. “He is the very image of the boy who once rescued an auburn-haired girl from the clutches of a savage vagabond and also of the man who, until very recently, wore the pendant she gave him.”

  THE END

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