Love, Remember Me (12 page)

The king chuckled sleepily. "You are probably correct, Will," he said, smiling, and then his eyes closed.

The fool sat quietly until the king began to snore. Then he crept from the room, telling the gentlemen of the bedchamber who awaited outside the door that Henry Tudor was finally, to everyone's relief, asleep.

CHAPTER 4

T
HE
sixth of January dawned cold. A weak sun glittered in a mother-of-pearl sky. The wind off the Thames was biting. By six o'clock the king was awake, but he lay quietly abed for half an hour more. It was his wedding day, but he was unwilling yet to begin it. Finally realizing he had no other choice, he called for his gentlemen, and they entered, chattering and smiling, carrying his wedding garments. The king was helped from his bed. He bathed and was barbered. Then he donned the finery prepared for this charade he must participate in this day. What a waste, he thought, tears coming to his eyes. I am not so old yet that I cannot appreciate the joy of a fair maid in my bed.

The royal wedding garments were quite magnificent. There was a gown of cloth-of-gold edged in rich sable and embroidered with silver flowers. The coat was scarlet satin, every bit as richly embroidered, and was fastened with large round diamond buttons. There was a gold collar about his neck. His footwear was of red leather, in the latest style with the toe narrow and rounded. Each shoe had an ankle strap and was studded with pearls and diamonds. On each of his fingers he wore a jeweled ring.

"Your majesty looks most fine," young Thomas Culpeper said.

The others murmured and nodded in agreement.

"Were it not to satisfy my realm," the king snapped, "I should not do what I must this day for any earthly thing!"

"Cromwell is a dead man," Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk, said softly.

"Do not be too certain," Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, whispered back. "Old Crum is a wily fox, and may yet escape the royal wrath."

"We will see," the Duke of Norfolk returned, and he smiled, a thing he rarely did. It was a smile of triumph.

"What mischief are you up to, Tom?" the Duke of Suffolk asked. Charles Brandon knew that Thomas Howard was closely allied with Stephen Gardiner, the Bishop of Winchester. The bishop had supported the king in his rejection of papal authority over the English Church, but he was a strong opponent of the doctrinal changes championed by the archbishop, Thomas Cranmer, a man Cromwell supported.

"You overestimate me, Charles," Norfolk replied, but he was still smiling. "I am the king's most loyal servant, and always have been."

"If anything, I underestimate you, Tom," Suffolk replied. "Sometimes you frighten me. Your ambition is a fierce thing."

"Let us get this travesty over and done with," the king growled at his gentlemen. "If I must marry her, then let it be done."

The king, escorted by his nobles, moved through the palace to the Princess of Cleves's apartments. There Anne awaited him calmly. She too had lain abed as long as she dared. When finally she was forced to arise, she had had to be coaxed to bathe her entire body in perfumed water. Despite her upbringing, which taught her that personal cleanliness was a vanity and sin of pride, she had enjoyed it.

"I vill do this every day," she declared to her ladies. "Vhat is da smell in da vasser, Nyssa Wyndham? It is nice."

"It is oil of damask rose, Your Grace," Nyssa replied.

"I like!" Anne declared, and her maids giggled. Their mirth was not directed at their new mistress, but rather, they were pleased to have made her happy. There was not one of them who did not know of the king's displeasure. Only Anne's lack of knowledge regarding English customs and the language protected her from deep hurt. She might not love Henry Tudor any more than he loved her, but she was a woman, and had her pride.

Her wedding garments were brought forth, and exclaimed over by all. Her gown was of cloth-of-gold. It was embroidered with flowers made of pearls. Cut in the Dutch fashion, it had the rounded skirt but no train. On her feet she wore slippers of gold kid with virtually nonexistent heels, to temper her height next to the king. Her blond hair was loose, declaring her virginity, and atop her head was a delicate gold coronet encrusted with gemstones, and golden trefoils resembling bunches of rosemary, a symbol of fertility. Mother Lowe placed a necklace of large diamonds set in gold about her mistress's neck, and then fastened the matching belt about Anne's slim waist. There were tears in the old woman's eyes, and when several escaped down her brown cheek, the princess gently wiped them away with her own hand.

"If your mama could but see you, my darling," Mother Lowe said.

"Is she all right?" Lady Browne inquired of Nyssa.

"She mourns the fact that the princess's mother is not here to see her married to the king," Nyssa answered. A good thing she is not, the girl thought silently to herself. A mother would see the king's unhappiness with her daughter; but perhaps that will change.

Told that the king was awaiting her, the bride stepped from her apartments. With the Count of Overstein and the Grand Master of Cleves escorting her, she followed the king and his train of nobles to the Chapel Royal, where the archbishop waited to marry them. Anne's face was serene, belying the fear she felt. He didn't want her, and she didn't want him either, yet they would marry for expediency's sake. She felt sorry for them both.

She was given in marriage by the Count of Overstein. She understood little of what the kindly faced archbishop was saying, but when Henry Tudor grasped her hand and jammed the heavy red-gold ring onto the appropriate finger, Anne of Cleves knew without a doubt that she was finally married to England's king. As Thomas Cranmer concluded the marriage ceremony, she painstakingly made out the words engraved upon her ring.
God send me well to keep
. It was all she could do not to laugh.

Now the king was grabbing at her hand and practically dragging her into his private chapel. She almost stumbled in her effort to keep up with him, and felt angry that he should so embarrass her on their wedding day. Whatever either of them might think, she was his wife. With effort she calmed herself, managing to get through the mass that followed. And afterward the bridal party was served hot spiced wine.

It was a day of unending ritual. Following the wedding ceremony, the king went to his private apartments to change clothing again. He put on a gown of tissue lined in embroidered red velvet. As soon as he had changed, a procession formed, and the bridal couple led their guests into the wedding banquet. In the afternoon the new queen departed the feast for a brief time to don fresh garments, choosing a gown with sleeves that gathered above her elbow. Her women also changed clothing, picking gowns decorated with many pretty golden chains, as was popular in the German states.

Cat Howard was filled with gratitude to Nyssa Wyndham, for she really had not the means to be a maid of honor. Her uncle, Duke Thomas, had obtained the position for her; but he was not so generous with his gold as he was with his influence. She had few gowns, and was forced to mix and match those she had, but even so, she was not as well dressed as the other girls. She and her sisters and three brothers were orphaned. What little their father had left, and it was indeed little, was reserved for her eldest brother. So as the queen's wedding had approached, Cat Howard had despaired of how she could afford another gown, particularly one that had to be lavishly decorated with chains.

"Let me give it to you as a Twelfth Night gift, Cat," Nyssa had said. "My allowance is more than I can spend even after having a new dress made." She shrugged. "What good is gold if you cannot share it with friends?"

"Oh, I cannot let you do such a thing," Cat Howard protested weakly, but it was obvious her heart was not in her words.

"Why not?" Nyssa inquired politely. "Is there some rule of court etiquette that I have not been told that forbids gifts between friends? If there is, I shall defy it, for I have gifts for you all!"

The others all giggled, and Lady Browne said, "Nyssa Wyndham is most generous, Mistress Howard. You are fortunate to have such a nice new friend. Of course you must accept the gift she offers. To do otherwise would be impolite, I fear, and Duke Thomas would be angry."

"In that case," Cat Howard said with a mischievous smile, "I must accept, which I do with thanks, Nyssa Wyndham."

Lady Browne nodded approvingly. "Prettily done," she said.

"I have nothing I can give you," Cat Howard told Nyssa softly, "but I do not forget a good turn done me, even as I do not forget a fault. Someday I will find a way to repay your kindness, for it is indeed kindness you do me. I am as poor as a church mouse, yet you have never made me feel inferior, as do the proud Bassetts. Eventually I shall have a chance to do you a good turn, Nyssa, and I will, I promise you."

When they returned to the banquet that afternoon in their fresh gowns, the new queen and her ladies were greeted with applause. The ladies received many compliments on their costumes. There was a program of masques and pantomimes. There was dancing. With ill-concealed grace the king led the new queen out onto the floor. But to Henry's surprise, Anne proved an excellent partner. She had learned well from her ladies. When he swung her up in the air, and she laughed down at him, he considered that perhaps she was not quite as unattractive as he had originally thought. Mayhap they could come to an arrangement.

"Nyssa?"

She turned at the sound of her name. There stood Cat Howard with . . . with . . .
with him!

"This is my cousin, Varian de Winter, the Earl of March," Cat said. "He is without a partner. I thought perhaps you would take pity upon him. I know how you love to dance."

His eyes were green. Dark green
. Dark water-green like the river Wye when it settled in sunlit ripples in the shallows where the river rushes grew by her home.

"Madame." He made her a most courtly bow. His face was grave.

"Sir." She curtsied, even as a shiver rippled up her back. His voice was deep and musical. There was a mysterious quality to it. His stern, handsome face set her heart to racing.

"Oh, do dance with Varian, Nyssa," Cat begged. Then she was gone to find her own partner.

"It is said you are not a gentleman, my lord. I am told by Lady Marlowe that to even speak with you endangers my reputation," Nyssa said boldly, regaining her composure.

"Do you believe her?" he asked dryly. She could hear the amusement in his wonderful voice. Still, his face remained serious.

"I think that Lady Marlowe, who is my aunt's dearest friend, is a gossip who thrives on scandal," Nyssa answered him slowly. "Yet within every scandal there is a grain of truth. Still, if we are in a public place, and surrounded by the entire court, I cannot quite see how you might compromise my reputation. Therefore, my lord, if indeed you are asking me to dance, I accept. To refuse you would be unthinkably rude." She curtsied to him again.

He took her hand, and she felt the warmth of his grasp pulse through her. They joined the lively country dance already in progress. A second dance followed, but when the music had finally ceased, Nyssa's uncle, Owen FitzHugh, was suddenly at their side.

"Nyssa, my dear, your aunt wishes to speak with you." He took her arm in a firm grip. "You will excuse us, my lord?"

The Earl of March bowed, a faint, sardonic smile upon his handsome face. "Of course, my lord," he said softly, "if you insist." He then turned and walked away.

"How could you!" Nyssa demanded of her uncle, stamping her foot for emphasis. "You have embarrassed me before the entire court!"

"My darling girl, I have full faith in your ability to handle your own life, but your aunt, egged on by Adela Marlowe, has not. Save your outrage for Bliss and her bosom friend."

"I will," Nyssa said ominously, and pulling away from her uncle, hurried across the floor to where the two older women sat.

"Nyssa!" Bliss said before she might even speak. "Have you not been warned about
that
man? Why, if Lady Marlowe had not seen him dancing with you, I can but imagine what would have happened."

"Nothing would have happened!" Nyssa retorted. "Little harm can be done to my reputation in a banquet hall full of people. You have embarrassed me greatly. I was introduced to the Earl of March by his cousin, Mistress Howard, one of my fellow maids. I could scarce refuse his invitation to dance under the circumstances, could I?"

"Dear sweet child," Adela Marlowe said, "an innocent such as you cannot possibly know the sort of man Lord de Winter is. Remember that you have been sent to court to find a suitable husband. No gentleman of good breeding will want to enter into a match with a woman of dubious repute." She smiled in what she believed was a kindly manner, but it seemed more supercilious to the younger woman.

"Madame," Nyssa said, her eyes dark with anger, "how dare you presume to lecture me on morality and manners? You are my senior in years only. I outrank you both by birth and position. Were I as foolish a peahen of a creature as you seem to think me, perhaps your interference would be of some value. I am not foolish, however, and I am mortally offended that my aunt would have been so influenced by you as to forget that I am my mother's daughter. I know well how to behave in polite society. You allude to some unsavory scandal in Lord de Winter's past, yet you do not elaborate. As far as I am concerned, the Earl of March is a pleasant gentleman, and an excellent dancer. As for me, I am a maid of unblemished virtue. If you have anything else to say on the matter, then do so. If you have not, I will thank you to rein in your wild imagination and not interfere in my life again!"

"She must be told!" Adela Marlowe declared dramatically to Bliss. "My conscience will not allow it otherwise."

"What must you tell me?" Nyssa demanded, her tone almost mocking.

"This man you insist upon defending,
and
with so little true knowledge of his history," the older woman said, "this man is an admitted debaucher of innocence. He seduced a young girl, and when she found herself with child, he would not own up to his responsibilities. The poor young creature killed herself. Will you defend such a man now, my fine young lady?"