Love, Remember Me (50 page)

"Be careful what you say to me, madame, lest your life be forfeit. His grace is prepared to grant you mercy, but only if you speak the truth of this matter to us."

"It is true!" Catherine insisted. "I swear it! Dereham forced me!"

"
Every time
?" the archbishop said disbelievingly.

She nodded vigorously. "Aye! I was never a willing party to his lustful intentions, I swear it! I wasn't."

"Your only hope, dear madame, is in the king's forgiveness. I warn you again to take a care as to what you tell me and swear to."

But Catherine Howard was now foolishly convinced that if she claimed rape, she would not be held responsible for her premarital conduct. Why should she not be believed? She remained adamant, and Thomas Cranmer could not sway her for the moment. In her confession she had said that Dereham asked her to marry him any number of times, but that she had refused him. When faced with the information that the chamberer, Mary Hall, had heard Catherine promise Dereham that she would love him always, unto death, that she indeed loved him with all her heart, the queen denied ever having said such a thing. It was Mary Hall's word against hers, and the king loved her. He would believe her over everyone else, Catherine convinced herself. Had Rochford not said so? And Rochford was wise in the ways of the court.

The Duke of Norfolk despaired to his grandson over Catherine's stubborn and childlike belief that if she admitted to nothing, nothing could be proved of her. "Does she not see that by admitting to a precontract with Francis Dereham, she may save her life?" he said. "If she says she was pledged to him first, then her marriage to Henry Tudor is invalid, and no adultery can be proved of her."

"They have no proof of adultery?" the Earl of March replied.

"Cranmer suspects," the duke answered his grandson. "He thinks, of course, it is Dereham. That is why he is pressing her so. Catherine and our family represent the old form of worship. The archbishop is no fanatic, but he is a reformer. He would see someone more like-minded as Henry's queen. Surely you know Prince Edward is being raised in the reformed faith. I have heard rumors that they would restore Anne of Cleves to the king's side, and the people would be very pleased if he went in that direction, Varian. They always liked her, and could never understand why a king would put aside a royal princess in favor of a mere English maid. Aye, Cranmer and his cohorts seek Catherine's death. Only if she is dead can they be certain she will not creep back into the king's good graces. Even as a mistress, she would be dangerous to them, or so they believe."

"You need have no fear that the lady Anne would remarry the king. She will not have him, Grandfather, or so my wife says. Besides, the lady's mother was of the old church, and the princess Mary has drawn the lady Anne back to that way of worship. It would do the reformers absolutely no good to restore her, for she would be of no use whatsoever to them," Varian told his grandfather.

"The Privy Council is having a secret meeting tomorrow," the duke said. "I will know more then. In the meantime be careful."

Francis Dereham, Henry Manox, and several others in the dowager's livery were arrested and confined to the Tower. The queen grew quite hysterical at the news. She was terrified at what they might say, and realized that she must say her piece first, before they were questioned. She begged that the archbishop attend her once more. Thomas Cranmer came to listen to her admission that, aye, she had indeed given Dereham gifts, and even received gifts from him. She had had a silk shirt made for him, but not satisfied, he had stolen a silver bracelet from her. He had in return had silk flowers made for her by a little woman in London, and given her some sarcenet which she had made into a quilted cap by the dowager's embroiderer, who had decorated the cap with friar's knots, a symbol of true love. When she had first worn the cap, Dereham, according to Mistress Hall, had said, "What, wife, here be the friars' knots for Francis!" To the archbishop all of this was indicative of a precontract, although the queen continued to vehemently deny it.

" 'Twas naught but in fun," she said. Then she went on to tell the archbishop of how Dereham's behavior was beginning to embarrass her greatly. "I feared his behavior would come to the ears of my step-grandmother," she said, "and then I should be sent back to Horsham in disgrace."

"Why did you not speak to the lady Agnes about this man's disturbing behavior, and his too-free manner toward you?" Thomas Cranmer asked.

"I suppose I should have," the queen admitted slowly, "but we were really having such fun. I did not want to spoil it for the others. If my step-grandmother had known, she would have locked us all up, and we would have never had any fun."

"Did you not realize that your own behavior was wickedly opposed to all that a good Christian woman is taught, madame?" he queried her.

"I did not know how far it would go," Catherine said, pouting. "I was just an innocent maid up from the country."

"The fellow knew you carnally," the archbishop said. "Tell me about it, madame."

The queen began to cry again. "I am so ashamed," she sobbed.

Better she had been ashamed then than now, the archbishop thought sourly. This silly girl is causing us all no end of trouble. However, he turned his most beatific gaze upon her. "Tell me, Catherine, my daughter. Unburden to me, and you will be free again."

"Most times he had on his doublet and hose, but sometimes he was naked, I mean without his hose," the queen said. "He came to me when the old dowager had gone to bed. He brought me all manner of little treats. Sometimes wine, or strawberries, or sugar wafers. Once the most perfect apple I ever saw."

"What if the duchess had come in while you were together?" the archbishop wondered aloud. "What would you have done, my child?"

"She did come in once." Catherine giggled inanely. "I had to send Master Dereham into the gallery so he would not be caught."

Her own words had convicted her, thought the archbishop. She cried rape, yet she sent her lover to hide when she was near to being caught.

"When the news came that I was to come to court," the queen said, "I was so excited. My uncle paid for a whole new wardrobe for me. I had three changes of clothes! I never had new clothing before."

"What of Dereham?" Thomas Cranmer pressed her. "Was he upset that you were to go away?"

"Aye, but I cared not. I told him that if he wanted to ask my uncle's permission to wed me, he must go to Ireland to make his fortune. I had no intention of marrying him, but this was the easiest way to rid myself of the fellow. He saw my eagerness, and he berated me for it. I was forced to tell him that I did not care what he did anymore. I would go to court, and my uncle would find me a good match. Then Dereham said to me that he had heard that I was to wed my cousin, Tom Culpeper. He was very jealous." She giggled again.

"When he said that, what replied you, madame?"

"I said if he knew such a thing, then he knew more than I knew," Catherine told Thomas Cranmer. "I suppose Tom would have been a good match for me, but that the king fell in love with me."

The archbishop knew that the queen and her cousin had known each other since childhood. They had always been fond of one another. Culpeper was highly placed in the king's affections. Was it possible? Could it be? Was the handsome Master Culpeper involved with the queen? The opportunity was there for him to take.
Had he
? When the archbishop left the queen, he ordered Tom Culpeper's arrest. He had proof of nothing yet, but he certainly wanted to speak with the young man.

Culpeper was an ambitious fellow. He had come to court as a child. He was handsome and had a quick wit. The king was deeply fond of him. It was likely that in order to save his own skin he would tell the truth. But who knew what the truth was? the archbishop wondered. Had the queen committed adultery with Dereham? And would Culpeper know? Would his cousin have confided in him?

"Tom Culpeper has been arrested and taken to the Tower," the Earl of March told his wife as he entered the Duke of Norfolk's apartments. He had been playing tennis with Lord Melton when he had heard the news. It was already all over Hampton Court, for Culpeper was very popular among his peers.

"On what charge?" Nyssa asked, pale-faced.

"No charges have been filed against him yet. He has just been brought in for questioning," Varian de Winter said.

"If I found out, then someone else may have found out," Nyssa told her husband. "God help Cat Howard."

He took her in his arms and held her close. "It may be nothing, sweeting. You know that Cranmer has been prying hard. So far he has found nothing that would convict Catherine of anything but bad judgment in men, and a naughty itch she must have scratched."

Nyssa giggled. "You make it sound so bawdy," she said, "and it is very serious, Varian. You know it is!"

He smiled into her dark hair. "Fate has already set into motion whatever will happen, Nyssa. I cannot change it, and so if I do not see the humor in the situation, I will find myself in a depression from which it will be difficult to emerge. My grandfather's plans are about to be foiled for good and always. I am sorry for him, but we have our own lives to live, my darling. How long has it been since we have had a quiet moment together? I think it is past time, don't you?"

"I have been so fearful for Cat, and for us, that I have hardly thought about it," she said honestly.

"I know," he said, his voice rich with laughter. "I am afraid, madame, that like my cousin, I too have a naughty itch that must be scratched." He kissed the top of her head. "Don't you?"

Her soft body shook against his. "You are very bad, sirrah," she told him, but her fingers were unfastening his doublet, reaching past it to unlace his shirt. Her palms flattened themselves against his bare chest. She rubbed her cheek against his warm skin, inhaling his masculine fragrance. Spreading his shirt wide, she licked at his nipples teasingly. Then, sliding to her knees before him, she started to unfasten his top breeches buttons as he removed the upper garments that she had already undone. "Your boots," she said, realizing that they would impede her further progress.

He drew her up, and pulling her over to a chair by the fire, sat down. Her back to him, Nyssa took his leather-shod foot between her legs as he braced the other foot upon her bottom. "Push!" she commanded him as she pulled his boot off. Then repeating the process, she removed the other boot. Turning about to face him, she began to slowly divest herself of her own garments; first her bodice, and then her skirts. Her little pointed tongue flicked across her lips as she slipped off her petticoats, one silk, one woolen, and one cotton. Reaching up, she removed the caul about her hair and shook the soft, dark tresses loose of their confinement.

He watched her appreciatively, sprawled in his chair, his chest bare. "What if someone comes in?" he said.

Nyssa drew her chemise off, and cupping her breasts in her palms, she fondled them before his eyes. Naked but for her stockings, which were gartered with silk rosettes, and her elegant, bejeweled shoes, she walked across the chamber to turn the key in the lock of the dayroom. Silently he admired the long line of her back and her dimpled, rounded buttocks. When she turned about, the sight of her saucy, upturned nipples thrusting up from her marvelous young breasts set his blood boiling. Sliding to her knees again, she began to place small, hot kisses across his lean torso. She licked at his belly, burrowing into his navel. The tight, hard bulge in his breeches was growing more evident with each passing minute. She cupped a palm over the protuberance and squeezed him teasingly. "I want you too," she said softly to him. Then she lay upon her back before the fire, her legs up and spread.

Her wanton behavior almost took his breath away. Fascinated, he watched as she spread her nether lips with her hands and began to play with herself. Her eyes never left his. Somehow he managed to get to his feet. With equal restraint he removed the remaining garments he wore. Then he stood for a long moment above her, watching as she teased her own flesh into creamy readiness. He slid to the floor next to her, drawing her naked form against his. Her skin was burning with her desire, and when their lips met, she sighed deeply.

He kissed her slowly, feeling the texture of the lips beneath his, enjoying their softness, their passionate response. When he knew that her mouth ached as much as his did, he pressed soft, butterfly kisses across her face. Her eyes were closed in her ecstasy, the thick dark lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. He nibbled upon an earlobe, licking about the shell of her ear, pushing his tongue suggestively into it to tickle her.

She arched against him, reaching for him to stroke his turgid manhood. "
Please!
" she whispered urgently.

"Not yet," he murmured back to her. Turning her upon her belly, he let his lips and tongue explore the line of her backbone. His teasing kisses swept across her buttocks and down her legs, then back up again. Pivoting her onto her back again, he nuzzled between her breasts, feeling her wildly beating heart beneath his mouth.

He was driving her wild with his deliciously erotic attentions. His pent-up desire for her should have made him anxious to possess her, but this time he seemed willing to wait, to tease her with sensual games. She liked it, yet she was hot to have him. "
Now!
" she demanded, sinking her teeth into his shoulder and biting him fiercely.

"Impatient little bitch," he growled at her, slapping her lightly. Then his mouth closed over a nipple and he began to suckle hard upon it even as he plunged two of his fingers into her hot sheath, thrusting them hard, making her whimper with pleasure.

After the first brief release, she realized it simply was not enough. She wanted him deep inside of her, filling her full of his throbbing passion. Angrily she struggled against him. "
Now, damn you! Now!
" she hissed. Her fists beat a tattoo on his back. In answer to her pleas, he fiercely pushed her down again upon her back. Eagerly, Nyssa opened her legs to him, but to her shock he grasped her, yanking her limbs over his shoulders, burying his face between her thighs, his tongue with unerring direction finding her little jewel. Slowly he flicked back and forth over the angry pink nub of excited flesh. She couldn't draw a breath for a long moment. Her whole being was suffused with a glowing heat that seemed to blossom from deep within her.