Love, Remember Me (40 page)

He looked at her admiringly. "By God I could wish that you were a Howard, madame. You look like a wild rose, but you are hard as iron." He turned to his grandson. "Are you happy with her? You should be. She is strong, and loyal to you. She loves you."

"I love her," the earl replied. "I have from the first moment I laid eyes on her at Hampton Court. Nyssa is not of a mind to forgive you for the way in which we married, but we both owe you a debt of gratitude, Grandfather, for without realizing it, or even caring one way or the other, you brought us together. For that we will attempt to help you, will we not, sweeting?" His green eyes bore into hers.

We are one, she thought, triumphant. If she asked him to take her home now, he would.
He loved her!
"We will remain, my lord," she said quietly, "and I will try to be a good influence upon the queen." Her look was imperious. She was granting him a favor.

The Duke of Norfolk grinned wolfishly at both of them. If I were younger, he thought, she is just the kind of woman I would want for myself. Clever and proud. He could but imagine, with envy, the pleasure she gave his grandson in bed. She would be all fire and ice. A wild rose with sharp, sharp thorns.

"The queen would see you," he told Nyssa. "I will take you to her; and you, Varian, can make your presence known to the king. He is in an excellent mood today. The hunting was good for a change."

They followed him through the encampment directly into its heart, where the magnificent cloth-of-gold and silver-striped pavilions that housed the royal couple were set up. Beneath a scarlet and gold awning cooks were busily preparing a feast for the evening meal.

"The queen is there." The duke pointed to a slightly smaller pavilion. "She is expecting you, madame."

Nyssa curtsied to her husband's grandfather, but there was nothing subservient in the movement. Her eyes met those of her husband, and she could see his mouth twitching with laughter. "My lords," she said, and then moved on past them into the queen's pavilion.

Lady Rochford hurried forward. "Hurry!" she said to Nyssa. "She is so anxious to see you, my lady."

The Countess of March followed Lady Rochford into the queen's privy. Catherine Howard, gowned in the king's favorite rose velvet, arose from her seat, and running forward, threw her arms about her friend, to the shock of her ladies.

"
Nyssa!
Ohh, I am so glad you are finally here. We are going to have such fun now!"

One look at Cat told Nyssa that something was very wrong. Could no one else see it? Her friend was like a lute string that was too tight and ready to break. Nyssa curtsied low, and when she arose, she smiled at Cat, saying, "You must tell me all about being a queen, madame, and I shall tell you all about my wonderful babies."

CHAPTER 12

T
HE
queen felt freer on progress than she had anywhere else since her marriage a year ago. Suddenly she was surrounded by a group of attractive young people whose sole goal in life was pleasure. Her best friend in all the world had arrived to keep her company and share her secrets. They would hunt all day along the route, and dance the night away. Henry was a fine companion in the mornings, but after his dinner, he usually wanted to sleep. She need only spend half the time pleasing him. The other half was her own time, and she would spend it as she pleased.

Nyssa hated the royal progress. It was the worst time of her life. Am I getting old? she wondered. Why can I not lose myself in the mindless pleasures that Cat does? Would it have been different if Varian and I were not wed; if we did not have children? But she knew that that was not so. There were many young married couples in the court, and they all seemed to be having a wonderful time. All Nyssa could think of, however, was that there was soap and perfume, jams and conserves to be made. Meat and fish had to be salted for the winter. How was this going to get done if she was not there to supervise? Oh, young Mistress Browning was capable, but Nyssa wanted to be home, overseeing her own household, not trekking all over England in the company of the court.

"Why can I not enjoy myself?" she asked her husband.

"For the same reason I cannot," he told her. "You and I are country people at heart. We are not courtiers who can while away their days in frivolous pursuits. I know Master Smale can oversee the harvest and the shearing, but I would prefer to be there myself."

"There is something strange happening with Cat," Nyssa told her husband, "and whatever it is, Lady Ferretface is part of it."

"What do you mean?" he responded.

"If it were anyone else but the queen," Nyssa said slowly, "I would say there was a man involved, but that cannot possibly be."

Varian de Winter felt a shudder ripple down his spine. Could his cousin be foolish enough to have taken a lover? Holy Mother! He prayed it was not so. The Howards had lost one queen to the headsman's ax. If Catherine were stupid enough to involve herself with a man not the king, she would eventually be found out. There was always someone watching when you least expected it. And a queen's adultery was considered high treason.

"Can you find out?" he said. "I do not want to speak to my grandfather unless you are certain of what you suspect."

"I will have to spend more time with her," Nyssa said, "and I have been avoiding it so we might be together." She leaned over and kissed him softly. "I prefer to spend as much time abed with you, my lord, as I can. Bed has ever been your strong point," she teased him, running a single finger down his thigh.

"If Catherine is silly enough to have taken a lover," he told her seriously, "we are all in danger of the king's wrath."

"We are not Howards," Nyssa said. "Why should the king hold us responsible if his wife's behavior is light? What have we to do with Catherine Howard, Varian?"

"You do not know how the king thinks, sweeting," he told her. "I was raised at court. He will accept no blame for anything. He seeks scapegoats whenever he finds himself liable for a fault. If Cat betrays him, he will not consider that part of the fault lies with him—that a man of his age should not have wed a chit so young and ripe to bursting, that Cat is not a rose without a thorn, but a flighty little girl, who thinks only of herself and of her own pleasures. The king will feel abused and ill-used by everyone about him if he runs true to form, and he will. He will blame everyone else for what happens. He will blame my grandfather in particular, and the Howards in general. My mother was a Howard, and I am Duke Thomas's only grandson. We will not escape his anger if Cat behaves badly."

"I will see what I can find out," Nyssa said, now genuinely concerned. "If there is another man, Varian, I am certain that it is just a harmless flirtation. Cat would never violate her marriage vows."

"I pray you are right, sweeting," he told her, and pulling her into his arms, he kissed her deeply.

To the queen's delight, Nyssa began to spend more time with her. She had also, to everyone's relief, ceased talking constantly about her twins. Other people's children were always so boring.

The progress moved on to the port of Boston so the king might indulge his naval fantasies. The queen and her court, however, boated on the waters of the river Witham past the elegant tower that soared above the church of St. Botolph. The boaters pelted each other with flowers, until the waters about them looked more like a field than a river. Then laughing and singing, they picnicked along the riverbanks.

The progress moved into Yorkshire and Northumberland, heading for Newcastle, the farthest north Henry Tudor had ever been in his kingdom. Varian de Winter left his wife to her own devices, attaching himself to the king's group of gentlemen in order to learn any gossip that might filter in from their wives or ladyloves. It was better that he and Nyssa not seem too close if they were to learn the truth.

Tom Culpeper, although a gentleman of the king's privy, was spending more time with the queen these days. One of his closest friends, Sir Cynric Vaughn, had singled out Nyssa and was pursuing her shamelessly.

"Now that you have stopped being an old goodwife," Cat said, "the gentlemen can see what a charmer you really are."

The two women were together in the queen's privy chamber of her pavilion. Kate Carey and Bessie FitzGerald had joined the progress, at the queen's invitation. But for their change in status, it was like old times, Nyssa thought.

"I do not think the gentleman should be so obvious in his attentions toward me," Nyssa said, almost primly. "After all, I am a married woman, Your Grace. Besides, I suspect he has earned his nickname, and not in a way any respectable woman would approve of," she noted. "A gentleman named 'Sin'? It sounds quite wicked."

Cat giggled. "He is wicked," she said, and she lowered her voice. "I hear he makes it a habit to seduce married women, and get them to fall in love with him. You had best beware, Nyssa, for Tom says Sin is madly in love with you, and means to have you!"

"How do you do it?" Kate Carey asked. "It seems every time you come to court, some gentleman desires you. I have not been so fortunate. I shall be married off to some dull fellow in due time without ever having known passion and mad abandon."

"Maybe when you are wed, the gentlemen of the court will feel free to indulge their passions for you," Bessie said mischievously. "They said it is dangerous for them to tamper with virgins unless they plan to wed them."

"True," the queen agreed wryly. "After all, if the road to paradise is already an open road, who is to know who has traveled it before? Still, the truth of the matter is that men are usually in such a hurry to couch their lances that they quite often do not even know if a maid is pure or not." She laughed. "Men can be managed, my dears."

Nyssa was shocked. This was a side of Cat Howard she had not seen before. It was cynical, and perhaps even a trifle dishonest. She had never before considered her friend in these terms. Wisely, she held her tongue, for they would just tease her about being a backward country lass even if she was a married woman.

"But if a girl is not a virgin, can a man not tell?" Kate Carey asked curiously. "When Nyssa married Lord de Winter, my uncle, the king, insisted that proof of the consummation be brought to him the following morning. That proof was a bedsheet with the stains of Nyssa's virginity upon it. If there is no blood, what can a man think but that his bride was not pure? I would be very afraid of such a thing."

"Do not be such a goose, Kate," the queen said. "Many a girl has gone to her marriage bed with a chicken's bladder of blood secreted beneath the sheets to give evidence of her purity."

"But a girl could become enceinte playing the wanton," Bessie FitzGerald replied nervously.

The queen motioned them closer and said, "A girl can meddle with a man and not become enceinte if she knows what to do." She smiled knowingly, showing her small white teeth.

Her words disturbed Nyssa further. Why was the queen suddenly so knowledgeable? Was it because she was a married woman, or did her enlightenment stem from another time, a time prior to her marriage? It was a frightening thought.

"I want to dance!" the queen said, jumping up. "Kate, go and call the musicians. See if there are any gentlemen in the outer chamber, and tell them that we shall join them immediately."

The queen's musicians were summoned and began to play. The young men and women danced the spritely country dances. Wine was being served with small sugar wafers.

Sin Vaughn stood watching them for a time, contemplating his attack. The Countess of March was without a doubt the most exciting woman he had ever met. Her very coolness to him, her air of respectability, enticed him greatly. Very tall, and slender, he stood head and shoulders above most of the court. The ladies adored him, and his charm was legendary. His oval-shaped gray eyes had the habit of narrowing almost to slits when he was considering some matter he deemed to be of importance. He had thick, wavy, ash-brown hair that was filled with golden highlights, and he was clean-shaven, unlike many at court. His chin was squared, and there was a deep cleft in it that set maidens to swooning when they looked upon him. His mouth was big, in keeping with the rest of him.

Snapping up a goblet of chilled wine, he was at her side as the dance came to an end. Her partner, seeing his rival, slipped into the background. "Madame," he said, handing her the goblet. She looked absolutely delicious, all flushed and breathless.

"My thanks, my lord," she said with a small smile. She was going to have to encourage him, she knew. He would be privy to all of Tom Culpeper's secrets, and Tom Culpeper was paying marked attention to the queen at all these little gatherings when the king was not present. Both he and Cat were quite proper in their behavior, but there was a tension between them that to Nyssa was almost palpable. Did no one else see it, or sense it? Was she imagining things? "You do not dance, my lord," she said to him.

"I have not the knack for it," he replied, smiling into her eyes and taking her free hand in his. "I have other talents, madame."

"Are you flirting with me, my lord?" she asked him.

He was amused. Usually women simpered at his attentions. "I believe I am, madame. Do you mind?"

"I am a married woman, sir," she said with an answering smile.

"Then perhaps I should ask if your husband minds?" he responded.

Nyssa laughed. He was witty, she had to admit. "Since the ladies all flirt with Varian," she told him, "I hardly think he can object if the gentlemen admire me. What do you think, my lord?"

"I think you are extravagantly beautiful," he told her.

"I think you, sir, are possibly very dangerous," Nyssa said, freeing her hand from his, handing him her goblet, and moving away from where they had been standing.

Cynric Vaughn burst out laughing. The quarry had been engaged, and the hunt was about to begin. She was the most intoxicating woman he had ever met. She was direct, and there was no artifice about her. He meant to have her, and he would.

"You stare at Lady de Winter too hard, I think, Sin," Tom Culpeper said. "You waste your time. Her grace says she is virtuous to a fault. Set your sights on an easier prey."