Love, Remember Me (17 page)

Thomas Howard laughed. "You learned well, Varian; certainly better than your uncle Henry. Very well, there is a price, but first I would know if you have pledged yourself to any woman."

"Nay," the earl said, growing more and more curious. "Why?"

"I have a match in mind for you, but it will involve a slight bit of danger. That is why I am willing to give you your mother's dowry lands in payment for this small deed. The girl I have in mind is an heiress with lands close to yours, in fact just across the river from you."

"What is it you want me to do, Grandfather?"

"I want your cousin, Catherine, to be England's next queen," the duke said quietly. His grandson's eyes widened just barely, but he remained silent, and Thomas Howard continued. "The king has recently begun to show her great favor. His marriage to the Flanders mare will soon be annulled. When it is, Catherine Howard must be the king's choice for a bride. One small thing stands in her way, however."

"Lady Nyssa Wyndham," the earl said. "I am privy to all the same gossip, Grandfather. The king dances between these two maids like a lad of sixteen. Nyssa Wyndham could as easily be England's next queen as my cousin Catherine, could she not? What is it he calls her? His wild rose? Well, let me tell you, Grandfather, that rose has thorns. She is as proper a young woman as I have ever met, and devoted to the queen."

"Your cousin, Cat, the king calls his rose without a thorn," the duke said. "We must see that Henry Tudor chooses the gentler of these two English roses, who is, of course, our Catherine. Nyssa Wyndham must lose the king's favor. I have a plan."

"I had not a doubt about that," the earl said with some humor.

"If the king were to discover Nyssa Wyndham in a gentleman's bed, his disappointment would certainly be great. Such a discovery would make it impossible for him to marry her, and leave the field wide open to our own little Catherine. It is a foolproof scheme, Varian."

"Except for one thing, Grandfather. The king would be quite apt in his anger and disillusionment to lop off his rival's head. Surely you are not suggesting that I be that rival?" the earl said.

"It is precisely what I am suggesting, but you need not worry about losing your head, my lad. In the eyes of the world, the king is a married man. He may take a mistress, of course, but that mistress cannot be a young girl of good family. Such a thing, as you know, would be unacceptable. Therefore, though we know he is half courting these two maidens despite his married state, we look the other way, and say nothing. If you were to even hint that he was courting these maidens beneath his lawful wife's nose,
then
, my dear Varian, you would be in danger of losing your head. The king is a prude. He believes himself a righteous and virtuous man. Though he will try to seduce a married woman, he would never seduce a maid. For Henry Tudor, Catherine Howard and Nyssa Wyndham are his romantic ideal of innocence. Either one is the perfect bride for him. He has but to choose. I wish to make his decision a simple one.

"If he finds that the Wyndham girl is not what he believed, his choice will naturally fall upon our Catherine. As for Nyssa Wyndham, her family sent her to court to see if she might find a husband. Naturally the king will insist that because you have dishonored her, you must marry her. I will concur with his decision, and apologize profusely for your behavior. The king will have Catherine for his next wife, and you will have a pretty heiress for your wife. Her family cannot object, as you will make things right, and their daughter will be the Countess of March."

"And if I refuse you, Grandfather?" the earl demanded. "This is not as simple as you try to make it sound. The king is unpredictable in his temper, as you know. He could send both the girl and me to the Tower."

"If you refuse me, I shall have to find another man to do this deed for me. Are you refusing me, Varian? You have never refused me before. I have always been able to rely upon you," the duke said.

"Aye, you always have, Grandfather, haven't you? I have always done your bidding, even when I felt you asked too much of me. Like the time my uncle Henry seduced the daughter of one of your farmers, and she hung herself when she discovered she was with child, and my uncle would not accept his responsibility. The girl had never named her lover, but to say he was of the duke's get. You asked me to accept the blame for that crime, and I did so. I understood, even if Henry did not, that Norfolk's heir must be a man with a spotless reputation for honorable behavior.

"Your gratitude was heartfelt, Grandfather, but the gossip surrounding that incident has caused decent families to practically hide their daughters from me. I am thirty years old, and cannot find a bride of equal birth to give me sons. Now you ask me to put my neck upon the executioner's block so that that silly little girl, Catherine Howard, can have her chance to be queen. Was not one Howard queen enough?"

"If you do this for me, Varian, you will have a bride of more than equal birth, and one whose family is famed for healthy children. Do not refuse me! I would rather give this prize to you than another, if you would but take it. The girl is pretty enough, and rich to boot!"

Varian de Winter shook his head wearily. He had not a single doubt that his grandfather would do exactly as he said. If Varian refused to help him, the duke would find another man who would. He thought about Nyssa Wyndham, and remembered the dances they had shared several months ago. The girl was not simply pretty. She was spirited and intelligent. He had wanted to pursue her, but he had seen the writing on the wall when her uncle had been sent to fetch her, and she had later put him off firmly. Yet had he not vowed to himself that he would eventually have her?

He had seen little of her since that brief winter meeting, for she was devoted to the queen. Across the Great Hall; in the chapel; walking in the Knot Garden. He had not again approached her, though he had wanted to, for the first time he had seen her, she had, unknowingly, captured his heart. Now his grandfather was proposing a monstrous scheme to discredit the girl in the king's eyes so his cousin, Catherine, could be the next royal bride.

If he did not aid his grandfather, who would be chosen in his place? Would he treat the girl gently? It was cruel that a stranger should be chosen for the unsuspecting maid's husband, and wrong that her family should have no say in the matter. The thought of any man but himself possessing her sent his blood to boiling, but these thoughts he had kept to himself. Nyssa Wyndham was to be sacrificed for the Howard ambition. He could do but one thing.

"Must I forcibly dishonor the lass?" he queried of his grandfather.

"Nay," the duke said. "The girl will be drugged and carried to your bed, Varian. You will be discovered by her side. Whatever she may say in her defense will not be believed. She will be assumed guilty. The king will be outraged. Her family will be outraged. I will be the most outraged of all, and will insist to the king that you marry her at once before a scandal ensues. He cannot refuse, as the girl's reputation will be at stake. He can hardly publicly admit to his own interest in his wife's maid of honor, can he?"

"You had best not be wrong about this, Grandfather," the Earl of March said, resigned. "I think your ambition for little Catherine madness, and this is a bad business with Nyssa Wyndham. I am ashamed that I would aid you, but I would not see the girl sacrificed to some lout."

"Do you know her?" the duke asked him, curious.

"I danced with her once, and then her uncle hurried to take her away. Remember, the world believes me guilty of driving an innocent girl, who was carrying my child, to her death. I am not considered a particularly desirable match. She had charm, Grandfather. I hope I shall be able to win her over. The rest of my life shall be hell if I do not. A man and his wife should at least be friends."

"You have odd ideas, Varian, and I cannot imagine where you ever got them," Thomas Howard said. "You did not learn such things from me. A wife for a gentleman should have a dowry consisting of both lands and monies. Her bloodline should be good. Nothing else is required of a good match but that. Nothing else."

The Earl of March did not respond. In many ways he was like his powerful grandfather. He could be ruthless and cold like Thomas Howard. But beneath the veneer of arrogance, he hid a soft heart. That much his father had given him, even if he had given him precious little else. Henry de Winter had died when Varian was sixteen. Until his death he had never ceased talking about his Mary Elizabeth. Though he had never known her, Varian de Winter felt he
had
known her because of his father's deep love for her. Her portrait, painted as a wedding gift, hung in the earl's bedchamber. As a little boy he had thought she was the prettiest mother any lad could have. Now he was struck by how young and vulnerable she had been; much like Nyssa Wyndham—and because of that, he had to help Nyssa, even in this roundabout way.

"When is this deed to be done?" he asked his grandfather.

"Tonight," the Duke of Norfolk said.

"So soon?" the earl replied. "Grandfather, could you not give me a few days to attempt to make friends with Nyssa Wyndham?"

"You have already told me that her family has kept her from you, Varian. They are not likely to change their minds about you now. Why would they? I shall tell you another secret. Cromwell's fall is very near now. He will soon be in the Tower waiting for his miserable life to come to a traitor's end. We have not a great deal of time in which to act."

"But the king has only just created him Earl of Essex!" Varian de Winter exclaimed. Then his brow lightened. "Ahh, of course! The king lulls him into a false sense of security, does he not, Grandfather? A frightened Cromwell will not be able to do his best to extricate the king from this most undesirable marriage into which he got him."

"Precisely!" the duke answered, pleased at his grandson's astuteness. It's a shame he is not a Howard by birth, the duke thought. Varian has a courtier's mind, but unfortunately he has a countryman's heart. He only stays at court to please me, but once he is married he will have to leave, for the king will be very displeased with him for the moment. I will miss him.

The Earl of March noticed his grandfather was drawing his furred, velvet robe about him. He arose and put another log upon the fire. "Tell me how you will go about executing your plan, my lord?" he said.

The duke wasted few words. "Lady Rochford will administer a mild sleeping draught to all the maids of honor tonight. Then she will admit two of my men to the Maidens' Chamber. They will bring Nyssa Wyndham to your bedchamber. Once I am told she is safely there, I will see the king knows of it. We will discover the two of you together. Be sure to take the girl into your embrace when you hear us outside the door, Varian. The drug administered to her is very mild. She will most likely awaken when you embrace her. Her movement in your arms will not be seen as the struggles of a frightened girl; to other eyes she will look as if she is party to the deed. Under the circumstances, the king will have no choice but to reject her, leaving the field clear for your cousin. You may be assured that I will show my gratitude to you shortly after your marriage, Varian. You are truly the only one I can trust with this most delicate matter. I have always been able to rely upon you."

He is brilliant, Varian de Winter thought. At an age when most men sat back to enjoy what remained of life, Thomas Howard continued in the thick of things, plotting and scheming, each plan well thought out and perfect to the last detail. "If you wish my cooperation in this matter," the earl told his grandfather, "you will deed that land over to me this very afternoon, my lord. Unlike my father, God assoil his good soul, I know better than to trust you."

The Duke of Norfolk laughed aloud, which was something he rarely did. "That is because you are clever like a Howard, and not trusting like a de Winter, my lad!" he said, chuckling. "Very well, the deed will be in your hands by sunset."

"If it is not, Grandfather, I will not be party to your plan," Varian de Winter said. "And I trust your wedding gift will be a most generous one, despite my wicked behavior."

"Aye," the duke replied. "Now get you gone, lad! I have other work to be about this day. Yours is but a small part in my efforts to make your cousin Catherine Queen of England. There is much more to it."

"I have no doubt that there is," the earl answered, and bowing to his grandfather, he departed his privy chamber.

Varian de Winter's own bedchamber was within the apartments of the Duke of Norfolk, the small prerogative of being Thomas Howard's grandson and in Thomas Howard's favor at the moment. He had lived with his father at their ancestral home of Winterhaven until his sixth birthday. He had seen his grandfather Howard several times in his young life, and he remembered standing next to his father's chair, in his father's library, as his fate was being discussed on the day the great duke came to take him away.

"It is time he took his rightful place," the duke had said. "He has spent six years among the rustics, and has the manners of a cowherd. He is, after all, my only grandson."

"But he is
my
only son," Henry de Winter replied quietly, with a rare show of spirit. "I agree with you, however, my lord. I am content here among the rustics on my land, having seen what I wanted of the world. Varian should know what life has to offer before he decides how he wishes to live. I can think of no better place for him to learn the ways of the world than with you, my lord. Take him, but return him home each summer that he does not forget he is a de Winter by birth, and that he has responsibilities here on his lands as well. He is all I have, and I shall miss him."

So Varian had gone to live with his grandfather, and was raised with the two children that resulted from his grandfather's second marriage, neither of whom was even born at that point. Henry Howard was born the following year, and his aunt Mary the year he was ten. When his uncle Henry was fifteen, he impregnated the daughter of one of the duke's farmers. When the girl's condition became apparent, her father beat her in an effort to learn who had seduced his daughter. There would, of course, have to be a marriage. All the girl would admit to was," 'twere one of his lordship's."