Love, Remember Me (18 page)

Then she secretly appealed to her lover. Henry Howard, arrogant, inexperienced, and frightened of what his powerful father would say and do, ashamed to admit his lust to his mother, had turned the girl away. The farmer's daughter hung herself in her father's barn to escape her sorrow and her shame, thereby causing a terrible scandal among the duke's people. They could talk of nothing else.

The Duke of Norfolk was furious. For all his faults, he was a fair man. When he had impregnated his cousin Bess, he had stood by her, although he could not marry her, being betrothed to another. His son had not shown the same strength of character. But then his grandson had agreed to take the blame to protect his younger uncle. No one considered that Varian de Winter had been home on his estates the summer the farmer's daughter had been seduced. Instead they remembered that the Earl of March's mother had been the duke's bastard daughter. They spoke of his saturnine handsomeness, and the ladies secretly imagined what it would be like to be his lover. Several found out, and not only relished the experience, but whispered about it among themselves. Marriageable maidens were kept away from him. He was believed to be an unsuitable and a dangerous man.

He had wanted a wife for some time now. Being the last of his line was a responsibility he did not enjoy bearing. He wanted sons and daughters, but the damned scandal would not die. No family of good lineage would discuss giving a daughter in marriage to a man who so callously had dismissed his obligations to a lover and their child.

It was only in retrospect that the Earl of March realized that he should not have taken the blame for what his fifteen-year-old uncle had done. Henry Howard's youth would have earned him forgiveness within their social strata, but Varian de Winter had been past twenty-one. It was believed a man of his years should have known better, particularly given his mother's history. Even his grandfather agreed now that they had made an error. But it was too late. Well, by the morrow he would have a wife, but he could not help feeling his method in obtaining that wife a shabby one.

Entering his bedchamber, he called to his body servant, who came from the dressing room where his clothing was kept. "When did we last change the sheets on this bed, Toby?" he demanded of the man.

"Entertaining tonight, are we, my lord?" Toby said with a chuckle. "Well, them sheets ain't been changed in two weeks or more. 'Tis past time, and if the lady is special, we should. I'll go to the duke's housekeeper and fetch some nice clean linens for ye."

"And I'll want a tub, Toby," the earl told his man.

"Aye, this one must be special." Toby chortled.

Toby, the earl thought, was fortunate to be a simple man. He had no idea how complicated life could be when one was not only a courtier, but the Duke of Norfolk's grandson.
Special
. Aye, Nyssa Wyndham was special. Even she, poor lass, could not even begin to imagine how special she was considered to be. God's blood! Varian grimaced. I hope Henry Tudor does not lop off both our poor heads.

No matter what his grandfather had said, the earl knew the king to be a volatile man. If Nyssa Wyndham was the woman the king really wanted for his next queen, there was going to be merry hell to pay. Even his pretty cousin Catherine would not be able to soothe the king's ire.

Why had he agreed to help Thomas Howard? Why had he not attempted to talk him out of this scheme? Had the debacle of his cousin Anne Boleyn not taught the duke anything? Nay, it had not. He had managed to keep his position as Lord Treasurer while the other men involved had lost everything, even their lives. The Duke of Norfolk loved power. It was both his weakness and his strength.

Varian de Winter knew why he had promised to help his grandfather. It was Nyssa Wyndham. The thought of her in another man's bed had shaken him greatly.
Why
? He didn't even know the wench, yet she had haunted his dreams since the first time he had seen her. He was in love with her. He shook his head in wonderment. How could he love a girl he barely knew? Yet he did, and somehow, some way, he was going to make her love him!

N
YSSA,
unaware of the consternation she was causing in the heart and mind of the Earl of March, dined with her aunt and uncle that day. Although she was due back at court by nightfall, she had spent her entire day with them. The lease on their Greenwich house would be up at the end of the month, and they discussed renewing it.

"I do not think you should," Nyssa said. "It is no secret any longer. Even the queen knows, though she pretends not to, that her marriage to the king will soon be a thing of the past. There will be an annulment, or divorce, whichever is decided. I will no longer be needed here at court. Go home, Aunt Bliss. I shall soon follow."

"Not if the king decides he wants you for his wife," Bliss said seriously. "His favor toward you is most marked. I believe that we should stay on so that you may have the counsel of your family."

"For once I am in agreement," Owen FitzHugh said.

"He favors Catherine Howard too," Nyssa said, "and her family is far, far more important than mine is. Besides, remember my mother's place in the king's life. He would never seek me out for such an exalted position because of the consanguinity involved, Aunt."

"Mary Boleyn was his mistress, and yet he married her sister," Bliss reminded her niece. "The Princess of Aragon was his brother's widow, and yet he had to have her for his wife. He is a man who seems to make the same mistake over and over again. Henry Tudor's relationship with your mother will not stop him if he desires you, Nyssa."

"Ohh, Aunt, I pray that you are wrong," Nyssa said. "I should rather die than be married to that old man! And how would my mother feel about such a thing? It would kill her, and my father too! Ah, did good Queen Anne not need me, I should ask her permission to go home this very day, but I cannot desert her, poor lady."

"I shall tell the landlord tomorrow that we wish to have the house through the end of June," Owen FitzHugh said. "You will not desert your mistress, Nyssa, and we will not desert you, my child."

Nyssa returned to court just as the sun was setting. There were no entertainments scheduled for that evening, and so she joined her friends in the Maidens' Chamber. The queen had retired early, the strain of her situation weighing upon her. The girls gossiped while playing cards.

"She is very sad that old Cromwell's fate should be so bleak because of her," Bessie FitzGerald said. "Her heart is very good."

"He would have fallen eventually," Kate Carey remarked with wisdom beyond her years. "Both he and Wolsey were of comparatively humble birth. Each climbed high, and gave their loyalty to no man save the king. Both incurred the jealous wrath of men like the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk. Such men, men without friends, have their fates sealed. Who is there to speak for them?"

"You would think the king would be loyal to those who are loyal to him," Nyssa said. "How can one expect loyalty when one does not give loyalty in return? Cromwell is a reptilian little man, but he has spent most of his life trying to make the king's life a happy one. This is his only failure. I feel sorry for him."

"It is too big an error in judgment for the king to forgive," Cat Howard said. "The king does not like those he trusts to make mistakes."

"I think I shall be glad to go home when this matter is finally settled," Nyssa said softly. "I miss my family, and my home. I want to see my parents. Like my mother, I am a country girl at heart."

"Perhaps you will not be allowed to go," Kate Carey said.

"Ohh, do not say it!" Nyssa cried, paling.

"Wouldn't you like to be a queen?" Cat Howard said slyly. "I know that I would! Imagine having everything you ever wanted, and the very least of your whims indulged at your demand, and the very people who have ignored you for months striving for your favor! The thought is very exciting. I should adore it!"

"Not I!" Nyssa said. "I would have a man to love me, and a home among the green hills of England, and a houseful of children! That is a dream far more to my taste than yours, Cat."

"But you haven't found a husband yet," Bessie FitzGerald said.

"No, I have not," Nyssa said with a small smile. "I have been so busy attending to my duties for the queen, I have had no time at all to seriously look the gentlemen over. But then few of them have even approached me. Perhaps they don't find me eligible enough."

"Oh, Nyssa, you are such a goose!" Cat Howard told her. "Have you not seen how my cousin, Varian de Winter, looks at you?"

"He is sooo handsome," Kate Carey sighed.

"My aunt, and her friend, Lady Marlowe, say he is a rogue, and that no respectable girl should associate with him," Nyssa said.

"Villains are far more fun than saints," Cat replied, and the others giggled at her witticism.

"Such happy maidens," Lady Rochford said as she entered the chamber, carrying a decanter and some small cordial glasses upon a tray. "What are you making merry about, or is it a secret?" She smiled, and Nyssa thought she looked like a ferret.

"We are speaking about the gentlemen," Cat said boldly.

Jane Rochford raised a slender eyebrow. "What naughty girls you all are," she said with an indulgent little smile. She looked about the room. "Where are the others?" she asked.

"The Bassetts are visiting their aunt overnight," Kate Carey volunteered. "Maria and Helga are sleeping in the queen's chamber this night. It is their turn. Her grace was sad this evening."

"Good," Lady Rochford purred. "Then there is no one to tell on me. Poor darlings! You strive so hard, and are all so good, and have so little amusement, I know. I have brought you all a little treat. Sweet cherry cordial, just made from French cherries, newly imported." She poured them each a small glass and offered her tray around. "Help yourselves, my maids."

"Are you not having any, Lady Rochford?" Bessie asked.

"Oh, child, I've already had two small glasses," Lady Rochford confided with a small hiccough. "If I drink any more, I shall be quite tipsy. It is really most delicious, is it not?"

They all agreed with her, eagerly sipping the fruit-flavored liqueur.

"It is late," Lady Rochford noted, "and you have all gossiped long enough. Ready yourselves for bed while you finish your cordial. I must take all the evidence of our treat away lest old Mother Lowe or Lady Browne come upon it and scold me for indulging you so." She smiled again. "It is rare for you to have such a quiet evening. You will want to catch up on your sleep, unless, of course, some of you are planning to slip out and meet your lovers?" She peered closely at them, and they burst into good-natured laughter at her teasing.

"Ohh, Lady Rochford," Kate said, "who among us has a lover, do you think? None, I fear!"

"Do not be so certain." Lady Rochford chuckled. "It is always the one you least expect, sweet Kate. Perhaps it is you!"

"Nay! Nay! Though I wish it were so, madame," the girl replied, laughing.

"Let me have a tad more of that cherry cordial," Bessie said. "Neither Lady Browne, who has gone to spend the night with her husband, nor Mother Lowe, who stays with the queen, is here to catch us."

Lady Rochford frowned. "Certainly not, Elizabeth FitzGerald," she said sternly. " 'Twas a treat, and you will be tipsy if you drink more. Now, be off with you, my maids." Lady Rochford shooed them to their beds saying, "There is no need to double up tonight, is there, with four gone? How nice to have a bed to one's self, even for a night."

Nyssa, who thought the cordial too sweet, had surreptitiously pushed her glass over to Bessie, who grinned conspiratorially. Nyssa had to agree with Lady Rochford about the sleeping arrangements. She could not get used to having to share a bed with another girl. She had always had her own bed her entire life. The others did not seem to mind, or if they did, they said nothing. Cat Howard had been raised in a dormitory for young girls at her grandmother Howard's house. Bessie had spent most of her life at court as the king's ward, and Kate Carey had a sister. Nyssa yawned. She was suddenly very sleepy, and so, it appeared, were the others. She drew the coverlet up over herself, her eyes closing even as she did so.

Lady Jane Rochford settled herself into a chair by the fire and waited, growing a bit sleepy herself with the warmth from the fire toasting her toes. An hour passed, and the girls were sleeping soundly. She arose and checked each of them individually. It was time. Taking a taper, she went to the chamber window that faced the courtyard and slowly waved the candlestick back and forth several times. Then she sat back down again in her chair to wait. Several minutes later she heard a soft scratching at the chamber door. Moving quickly, she opened the door and led the two men who entered to where Nyssa lay.

"That is the girl," she said softly. "Quickly now!"

One of the men picked up the slumbering girl, coverlet and all, and hurried from the Maidens' Chamber, the other going swiftly before him to be certain that no one saw them. Behind them Lady Rochford quickly closed the door. The two men moved swiftly through the dimly lit palace corridors, taking a roundabout route that was less likely to be patrolled by the king's guards, who would most certainly ask questions that they could not answer.

Nyssa's abductors were two of the most trusted of the Duke of Norfolk's men. They had been ordered to bring this girl to the Earl of March's bedchamber in secret. They had no idea what was afoot, nor would they have ever considered asking. They were servants, and servants, even those of long-standing, did not question their masters. Upon reaching their destination, they entered and deposited the girl upon the bed, as they had been ordered. There appeared to be no one else in the room, but the two men had completed their assignment, and so they left.

When the door closed behind them, Varian de Winter stepped from the shadows and walked over to the bed to look down at Nyssa. She was going to hate him, and he did not want her to hate him. He had wanted to court her, and win her honestly. He had wanted her family to consider him worthy of their daughter, but it was not to be. They would accept him because they would have no other choice. He would have to win them over. If only he could convince Nyssa not to hate him. Perhaps she would never love him, but he desperately did not want her to despise him.