Love, Remember Me (35 page)

On St. Thomas's Day a messenger arrived from the court. The day was icy, and the earl invited the king's messenger to stay overnight. "We will have an answer for you to carry back to his grace," he said.

The messenger was grateful for their hospitality. He was a younger son come to court to make his fortune, but there were so many like him also at court that he knew it would take a miracle to set him above the rest. One never knew, however, where a miracle would come from, and the queen had personally asked him to deliver her message into the hands of the Earl and Countess of March. If their answer pleased the royal couple, the messenger could profit.

"We are ordered to court by Twelfth Night," Varian told his wife in the privacy of their bedchamber, the scarlet bed hangings drawn about their oaken bedstead. "Will you be sorry that we cannot go, sweeting?" He caressed her ripening belly, thrilled to feel the child stir restlessly beneath his gentle hand.

Nyssa shifted her body so she might elevate her shoulders a trifle more. She was beginning to feel very uncomfortable with this child. Her body was swollen like a large marrow. Even the special gowns her mother had loaned her for this time were beginning to feel tight across her breasts and her belly. "I would hardly go to court looking like this," she muttered irritably. "I look like a cow about to calve. Besides, why would I prefer court to Winterhaven? Nay, my lord, this child of ours is providential. None of the king's wives, save the Princess of Aragon, has remained his wife for long. By the time our son is born, and I have recovered from the birth, and weaned him from my breast, your cousin could easily be replaced in the king's heart, and bed, by another pretty English rose," Nyssa concluded.

"Not if my grandfather has anything to say about it," the earl teased his wife. "Remember that Duke Thomas likes power."

"He could not prevent Anne Boleyn from losing her head," Nyssa countered. "He was, I am told, quick to disassociate himself from her once he saw the handwriting on the wall. He saved his own position while she sacrificed hers." She shifted herself again.

"You are just out of sorts, sweeting, because we cannot go to
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for the Christmas festivities," he reasoned. "You know I am sorry about it, Nyssa, but even your mother said it would not be wise to travel now. And so I shall tell the king. Smale has already drafted the missive. He is enormously disappointed that we are not returning to court."

"He is honest, but carries himself above his station," Nyssa replied. "He was his own master for too long, and believed it would always be that way. I do not think he will be able to change, Varian. Come spring you must replace him with his son. We have already sent most of the old servants to the cottages and replaced them with their younger sons and daughters and other relatives."

"Aye," he agreed. "I am tired of having to explain everything I wish to do. Winterhaven is, after all, mine to do with as I please. I value Smale's judgment, but the final decision must be mine." He had taken his father-in-law's advice in this and other matters. It had not failed him yet.

Early the following morning he entrusted the king's messenger with a sealed parchment in a leather pouch that would keep it dry in the inclement weather. The messenger rode with all speed, reaching Hampton Court on Christmas Day and delivering his message personally.

"Why can they not come?" demanded the young queen Catherine of the king. "Did you not order them to court, my lord, as you promised me?" She pouted at him prettily.

"The Earl of March begs our indulgence," Henry Tudor said. "His wife is with child and is advised against traveling. The baby is due in the spring. I can certainly understand his concern for her safety, my rose. I only wish that we shared the same predicament."

"But I wanted Nyssa to come," Catherine whined, ignoring his barb. "I miss her!"

"Have I not given you everything that your heart desires, my adorable wife?" the king crooned at her. He reached out to draw her into his embrace.

"Nyssa is my friend," the queen cried, pulling away. "
My only friend!
What fun is all of this without a best friend to share it with, Henry?" She stamped her foot at him.

He wanted to understand, but he did not. She was Queen of England. She had everything anyone could desire at her fingertips. Why was she complaining?

"You must make her come back to court after her child is born, my lord," the queen insisted. "I want Nyssa with me. I need her to be with me, Henry."

"But it will be some months before she can safely travel," the king told her. Catherine, of course, not having yet had a child, would not understand. He attempted to explain it to her. "She will need several weeks to recover from the birth itself. Then, as a country woman, she will want to nurse her child herself. It cannot be weaned from her breast for two or three years, Catherine. By that time, or before, she will surely be enceinte with another child. It is unlikely that you will see Nyssa de Winter in the near future, my sweet. But we will have to try all the harder to have our own children, won't we? If you are busy with your own family, you will not have time to think of Nyssa."

"If Nyssa cannot come to me, why can I not go to her?" the queen persisted. She did not easily relinquish what she wanted. "Are we not planning a progress through the Midlands next summer, my lord? Could I not see her then?"

Henry Tudor sighed, and then said, "You might be with child yourself then, Catherine, and unable to accompany me."

Children! Children! Children! '
Twas all men ever talked about, the queen thought irritably. Her uncle, Duke Thomas, was always importuning her to have a child. Another son for England, they all begged her. And Henry could not stop nattering on about it either, even in the midst of their most intimate moments as he grunted and sweated over her body. Was she to be allowed no time to be young? To have fun? "I want to see my friend," she told him stubbornly, "and I do not want to wait years to do so."

The king took his wife upon his ample lap and began to fondle her breasts. His bride, he had discovered, had a most prodigious appetite for lovemaking. Whenever she was angry, he had but to distract her in this delightful manner. Catherine would immediately forget whatever it was that had irritated her in the first place.

"Perhaps next summer it can somehow be arranged," he soothed her. "The hunting is good in that area. There are several great houses that could entertain us and our court. Next summer, my rose."

He kissed her hard, finding his own desire beginning to rise to the occasion. The Earl and Countess of March had been married but three months ahead of their king and queen. Catherine would soon begin to blossom with their own child, he was certain. He was still capable of siring a child. Why, he felt like twenty again.

O
N
Christmas morning Nyssa awoke dispiritedly. The day was cold, yet absolutely beautiful. Tillie seemed unduly excited as she helped her mistress to dress for mass. But of course Tillie would be excited; everyone else was, but how could she be? A year ago she had been at court awaiting the arrival of the new queen. She had missed the wonderful Christmas celebrations that her mother always held at
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, but she had managed to bear her disappointment in her excitement over being at court.

Now she was a married woman, enormous with child, in a strange house that had no customs.
She wanted to go home!
She wanted to be Nyssa Wyndham again. Young and free to do as she pleased. The invader within her kicked and turned itself about, reminding her sharply that those days were over forever. Several tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Why, m'lady, what is the matter?" Tillie asked her.

Nyssa shook her head. Tillie would never understand how she felt. Why should she? She was young, and free yet. "Nothing fits," she muttered. "Practically everything Mama gave me is too tight now."

"You are carrying big," Tillie admitted. "I've seen me ma the same way, and then the baby is just the littlest bit of a thing. 'Tis all the waters, m'lady. As long as he's active, he's healthy."

"He is very active, Tillie," Nyssa grumbled. "As active as one of those tumblers one sees at the fair. I barely slept last night."

"Just a few more weeks, m'lady," Tillie soothed her mistress. "Why, spring will be here before you know it," she promised.

" 'Tis Christmas Day, Tillie," Nyssa said gloomily. "Spring is weeks and weeks away." She sighed piteously.

Tillie said nothing more. Carefully she brushed her mistress's lovely dark hair, braiding it into a single plait with a red ribbon through the strands. She helped Nyssa into a velvet breeding gown of dark green, noting the laces barely tied now. Her lady's bosom had greatly enlarged over the last few months, and swelled quite dangerously over the edge of the bodice. The skirt was divided, and the underskirt was of silver and green brocade.

Nyssa looked at her belly straining beneath the fabric, and fell into a fit of giggles. "I wonder if this is how a heifer would look if you dressed her up in a fine gown." She chuckled.

"She would be the best-dressed heifer in all of England," Tillie said, laughing, pleased to see Nyssa's good humor restored. One never knew these days if she would laugh or cry, or shout over some little thing.

The two women joined the earl in the chapel of Winterhaven for the morning mass. Nyssa grew weepy again. They were all alone, just the two of them. She wondered why she had even bothered to decorate the Great Hall with greens and candles. Who would appreciate them? There was no one. She sniffled softly.

When the mass ended, Varian de Winter took his wife's hand. "Let us go into the Great Hall and break our fast. Young Mistress Browning tells me that the kitchen staff have prepared a special holiday feast for us this day." He kissed her softly. "Happy Christmas, sweeting."

"I am not hungry," Nyssa said. "I think I shall return to my chamber to rest." She looked so woebegone.

"Nay, Nyssa, you shall not," he said adamantly. She glanced up at him, surprised. "You shall not disappoint the servants who have worked so hard to make this day a special one for you. I am sorry you cannot be at
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, sweeting, but it would not have been safe for you to go in your condition. That is no reason, however, to mope about and spoil Christmas for the rest of us at Winterhaven."

He had never spoken to her that way. He had always been so gentle, and so considerate of her. How could he possibly understand her feelings? He had never had the kind of family she had. But before the protest might even form upon her lips, he was leading her firmly from the chapel to the Great Hall. She could smell the pine and the bay as they approached. There was a low hum coming from the hall. What was it? She had certainly never heard that noise before. They entered the room, and she gasped with surprise, her eyes flying to his smiling face.

"
Merry Christmas, Nyssa!
" her family chorused as one.

Nyssa burst into tears. "Oh!" she sobbed. "Oh, I am so happy!
Mama! Papa! Grandmama Doro! Philip!
Giles! Richard! Edward! Henry! And, ohh, look at the girls. Annie and Jane have grown so since I saw them last!" She turned to her husband. "Thank you, Varian," was all she could manage to say before she began sobbing against his velvet-clad chest. How could she have ever believed the terrible gossip surrounding his earlier life, or his actions toward her? A man so thoughtful of his wife couldn't be wicked or untrustworthy. How could she have ever thought it?

"She is just like her mother," Anthony Wyndham told his son-in-law calmly. "They weep at the drop of a bonnet, these women. Do not look so distressed, Varian. She is delighted with your little surprise."

"Ohhh, I am!" Nyssa sobbed. "I have never been happier in my entire life, my lord." She reached for her handkerchief, wiping her eyes and noisily blowing her nose. "Mama!" She and Blaze embraced.

"You are enormous," her mother noted. "Are you certain this baby is not due until the end of March? Perhaps I was mistaken about the dates. After all, you were married at the end of April. The child could be here sooner. Sometimes a woman's flow does not stop right away. It is unusual, but it has been known to happen.

"I had meant to return home in just a few days' time," Blaze continued, "but I think now that I may remain with you until after the baby comes, Nyssa. If there were to be a bad storm and I could not get back, I should be most distressed. I shall keep Henry and the girls with me." She looked to her son-in-law. "Will you mind, Varian?"

"Nay, madame, you are most welcome to remain as long as you desire. Indeed I would be hard-pressed to help Nyssa when the child comes. I am glad for your company, I assure you."

"You may not be glad for the company of these rascals," the Countess of Langford said, a twinkle in her eyes, as she watched her twin daughters toddling with determination after one of the hounds.

The morning meal was served, and Nyssa was astounded. Entirely on their own the kitchen staff had set a menu and prepared it. There was a large country ham, pink and sweet; dishes of eggs in a sauce of cream and marsala wine, sprinkled with cinnamon. Hot wheat cereal with bits of dried apple and pear was served up in fresh trenchers of bread. Trout, poached in white wine with dill and lemon, caught the men's fancy. There was a platter of large stewed apples floating in a mixture of hot honey, raisins, and nutmeg, with a companion pitcher of thick, clotted cream. There was a small wheel of sharp cheese, hot cottage loaves, silver dishes of newly churned butter, and pitchers of both October ale and red wine.

Outside it was still dark, for the dawn came late at this time of year and the days were short. The family trooped to the high board and, seating themselves, began to eat with enthusiasm.

"How did you get here, and when did you arrive?" Nyssa asked her parents. "I did not hear you, and my ears are sharp."

"Old Rumford ferried us across early this morning. The road to Winterhaven is a clear one, and the moon was high," Anthony told her. "We traveled easily, my dear."