Written in the Stars (5 page)

Eyes wide and searching, Laurel tightened her grip on Elizabeth’s hand. “I remember
but bits and pieces of what happened after my fall. It is as a dream. Yet now I heard
and saw all clearly. As I saw the power between you and Will while we rode. What shall
you do?”

Conflicting emotions and unfamiliar, frightening need still pounding through her body,
Elizabeth shook her head. “We as women are but pawns in this game of kings to be moved
about on the chessboard for gain of land or money. Or the need to carry on the family
name or the linage to start or end wars. How can I change my destiny? And is it just
if I should try?”

“I was a fortunate and eager pawn, for I had long loved the duke. I have been blessed
to receive great affection and kindness from him,” Laurel whispered. “Yet his feelings
for me are as nothing compared to his great love of Will. There is little the duke
would not grant him.”

Laurel didn’t say the words, yet Elizabeth read them in her eyes.

Even deny his legitimate heir and allow Will and me to be together?

Her father’s face flashed before her. Again she heard the pride and pleasure in his
voice when he declared to those gathered at Wharton Keep that she would one day be
the Duchess of Lennox. Again she heard her old nurse warning of danger should her
choices not be wise.

How can choosing Will and his love be unwise when it feels like my true destiny?

…

In a lifetime of loving obedience to his father, Will had never wished for more than
Lennox had bestowed upon him. Now Elizabeth stirred emotions and desires which defied
everything he had ever believed possible.

The joy on the duke’s face as he roused him and led him back to Laurel’s chamber lightened
Will’s heart. He lingered outside the chamber door, watching Elizabeth, remembering
the feel of her body in his arms, the taste of her skin and lips.

He straightened his shoulders. He had not forfeited the gift of this day but the pride
and the loyalty he owed his father demanded he must now stay away from her. Must somehow
destroy these feelings, this bond which connected them more completely than anything
he had ever known.

“The delicate Laurel lives, I see,” Carlyle drawled behind him.

Aware of his brother’s fear that Laurel would produce another heir after all, Will
turned, taking a protective stance before the door.

Carlyle laughed. “Fear not, brother. I wish your sweet Laurel no harm. I have new
plans. My bride brings a richer dowry than any know.”

Unable to stop himself, Will again gazed at Elizabeth and back to his brother.

“Ah, you have fallen under Lady Elizabeth’s spell.” Carlyle laughed. “I am forced
to share much with you, brother. Not her. I have special plans for the beautiful Elizabeth.”

Although Will had always held his suspicions close and mourned the loss of the bond
he had once shared with Carlyle, the time had come when he could no longer ignore
the festerings of jealousy and cruelty which lured beneath his brother’s charming
exterior. Now finely attuned to Elizabeth with a fierce desire to protect her, he
could no longer silence his fears or assuage his guilt that he had played a part in
placing her in possible danger.

“Carlyle, there are rumors stirring of dark practices in the area. An altar has been
discovered with evidence of sacrifices. If true, it could harm us all at Dunham Castle.
I will not allow those I love to be placed in danger.”

Carlyle’s eyes widened and his mouth twisted in a smirk of contempt. “Do you believe
I have knowledge of such a place or of those who worship the old gods? Big brother,
you have always been too full of pride and love of our father to tell him or others
of my boyhood fascination with the old ways. Why would you now speak of it to me?
As before, we both know you would never betray your blood.”

Will did not stop Carlyle from walking away nor did he warn him.

Do not give me reason to betray my blood, brother. For I swear to protect Elizabeth
I shall defy all in my way.

Even his own blood.

Dunham Castle, 1601

Here in my new home, my world continues to take on new shape, new color, filling me
with emotions I can no longer contain. I am confused and frightened by the power my
golden celestial girdle granted me to heal Laurel’s wound. I know my gift is not all
powerful, but what can be its scope? And what might be its price? How may it help
me reach my heart’s desire with Will?

His grandfather is the one who caused Laurel to awaken, recovered except for a weakness
in her limbs. Even this Charles promises to mend.

In the long, dark hours, as Will and I sat beside Laurel’s bed, my world changed forever
when he told me his true story.

Told me of the great love his mother Maude—Charles Grey’s only child—and the duke
pledged before God.

Told me of the tragedy of pride and duty which kept them apart yet never destroyed
their love for one another.

In the eyes of God, then, Will is the duke’s firstborn son. In my heart and soul I
know I belong with Will.

Yet, in our world, it is Carlyle to whom I am betrothed.

Is it my destiny to right this injustice?

Do I follow my heart which yearns for Will in all ways a woman can love?

Or do I honor my father, the pride in his bloodline, and perform my duty as I have
promised? I confess to you that I begin to dare to defy the teachings of my lifetime
to carve out my own destiny.

In this, you shall judge me.

Chapter Five

The following two days, Will dutifully supported his father and attended Laurel in
her chambers when she wanted him by her side.

And always beside her sat Elizabeth.

Elizabeth with the silky hair which always invited his touch. Elizabeth with the green
eyes which seemed to look through his flesh and bones into his heart. Elizabeth, whose
scent intoxicated the air he breathed.

Anguish grew with every moment when Carlyle made his daily visit and stood too close
to Elizabeth, touching her.

Then Will would leave, driven by his desire to challenge his own brother. To challenge
the dictates of his own conscience and his very honor.

On the third day, he entered Laurel’s chamber to find her standing on her feet, supported
by Elizabeth, her nightgown hanging in spreading folds to the ground. Squinting, his
grandfather nodded. “Yes, my salve is helping.”

“Look, Will! I showed my lord but an hour past. Now I must show you. Your grandfather’s
magic has brought life back to my numb legs.” Tears in her eyes, Laurel gently eased
away from Elizabeth and took three unsteady steps toward him.

She swayed and Will reached out to grab her, as did Elizabeth. In her attempt to help,
she innocently pressed her lush, warm body into his.

He saw frank desire light her eyes as he had in those forbidden stolen minutes in
Laurel’s chamber. He lost pace with his breathing. His nerves were shocked and burned
beneath his own hard desire which had increased with each day.

“Enough for today, Laurel. Time to rest.” His grandfather stepped between Will and
Elizabeth to help Laurel walk slowly back to her bed.

Elizabeth lifted her shadowed eyes to stare at him. “Will…” she said huskily.

Loud applause shocked them all into turning toward the door. Carlyle strolled into
the room.

“Magnificent, Laurel. You have surprising resilience for one with such a delicate
constitution.”

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, and 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.