Page 64 of Love, Remember Me

There was so much to do, Nyssa discovered in the next few weeks. Her early sickness past, she felt filled with vigor, and anxious that her new home be in order before her child was born. She sent to her mother for several older servants to train her new servants. Mistress Browning, though beloved and respected by all, was simply not up to the task. She probably never had been. Winterhaven had not been properly kept in years. Still, Nyssa diplomatically sought her opinion on a variety of matters, and the elderly housekeeper's dignity was preserved. Her daughter-in-law, known as Young Mistress Browning, began to gradually take over the old woman's duties, and proved quite satisfactory. The elderly housekeeper spent most of her days in the kitchens supervising the staff there, seated most comfortably in a large chair by the fire, a wooden spoon her badge of office.

To Nyssa's surprise, much of the furniture at Winterhaven was in good order, and that which was not was easily repaired. New cushions were made for chairs, along with bed hangings and drapes. Tapestries were brought from the attics and rehung. Carpets were ordered from London.

"Only the most backward of households still put rushes on the floor," Nyssa said. "We must have carpets."

"The king's houses still have rushes sometimes," Varian teased his wife. "Do you think the king is old-fashioned, sweeting?"

"Aye!" she answered without hesitation. "Besides, you were so frugal in your bachelor days, my lord, you have more than enough to cover the expense. It is a wife's duty to spend her husband's gold," she teased back.

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 toRiversEdgefor 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.

ONChristmas 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 atRiversEdge, but she had managed to bear her disappointment in her excitement over being at court.

---