Page 77 of Love, Remember Me

"Oh, Nyssa," the queen said, "I am forced to take that rude fellow into my household. I hate him!"

"Why?" Nyssa demanded. "The truth, Cat! Perhaps I can help."

"His name is Francis Dereham. He was at Lambeth when I was there. He . . . he took liberties with me that he should not have. Now he is threatening to tell the king unless I take him into my household. My grandmother knows nothing of this, or she would not have sent him. Indeed she would have seen he met with some unfortunate accident," the queen concluded.

"Did you not speak to me once about being courted by this Dereham, Cat?" Nyssa looked directly at the queen, who flushed.

"I was but bragging," she said sullenly.

"I warned you to tell the king," Nyssa said. "If you had done it then, before you were married, no one could blackmail you like this. He would have forgiven you, Cat. Now you are caught like an animal in a trap. You cannot tell him now. So you must suffer to have this Francis Dereham in your household."

"I know," Cat said despondently, and she drained the goblet.

"Dry your eyes, Your Grace," Nyssa said, handing her friend a handkerchief. "No one must see you like this lest questions be asked."

Catherine took the little linen square and mopped at her face. "Ohh, Nyssa," she said, "what would I do without you? You are my only friend! I never knew being a queen would be so lonely. You must never leave me! Promise me!"

"Nay, I will not promise you such a thing, Cat," Nyssa said. "If you love me, you will let me go home soon. I miss my children."

"If you went home, Nyssa, then you would never see Sin Vaughn again." She giggled, adroitly turning the subject away from what she considered unpleasant ground. "He is quite taken with you. Do you think he is handsome? As handsome as my cousin Varian?"

Nyssa laughed. "He is not as handsome as my husband, but he is a pretty fellow with winning ways. A notorious seducer, I am told. Neither of us should be seen in his company, Cat." She said nothing of the encounter she had had with Sin Vaughn. Cat would be unable to refrain from gossiping about it with the others; and she would read something more into it than there was.

"Was it Bessie or Kate who once said that handsome, wicked men are far more interesting than handsome, nice men?" the queen asked, and the two young women dissolved into laughter.

That night at the evening meal, the king was in a particularly fine mood, for he had personally killed six stags that day. When Nyssa and the queen danced together for his amusement, he was well-pleased. His little eyes followed their graceful movements as they pirouetted and twirled before him. His wife was wearing a gown of rose-colored silk. It was his favorite color on her, complimenting her lovely russet hair. Nyssa was equally lovely in a silk gown of pale spring-green, the bodice encrusted with pearls and peridots.

Afterward the king took both young women upon his lap, and said first to Nyssa, "I will grant you a boon for the pleasure you have given me with your dancing, my wild rose. What will you have of me?"

"I would be home with my family by Christmas, Your Grace," she said sweetly, and then kissed his cheek.

The king chuckled richly. "You are a wicked chit, Nyssa, for I know your desire conflicts with the desires of my queen, but I have given my word to grant your wish, and so I must."

"Thank you, Your Grace," she replied meekly.

The king laughed again. "You do not fool me, madame. You do not fool me one bit Your good lord tells me how you have wrapped him about your little finger. I did not do so badly by you, Nyssa, did I? You are happy, are you not?"

"I am very happy, Your Grace," she answered him honestly.

The king turned to his wife. "Now what new extravagance will you have of me, madame? Another gown, or perhaps a new jewel?"

"Nay, sire, but one small thing," Cat told her husband. "The dowager duchess Agnes sent me a distant relative of hers, and begs that I find a place for him in my household. I could use another secretary, my lord. Will you allow me to do the lady Agnes this favor?"

"Aye," he said, "for by not coming on this progress and complaining constantly about the state of her health, she has done me a favor. Appoint this fellow if you will. What is his name?"

"Francis Dereham, my lord," the queen replied, and her eyes met those of Nyssa's in the shared conspiracy.

They left Pontefract Castle and traveled on to York, arriving in mid-September. The weather was becoming more autumnal, and it was raining more now, which made the journey uncomfortable at best. At York the king hoped to meet with his nephew, King James of Scotland. There had also been speculation that Henry might crown his queen at Yorkminster. The king, however, made it quite clear when queried that Catherine's coronation rested with her ability to produce another heir for him. She was obviously not with child.

The royal pavilions were set up in the grounds of an old abbey which was being refurbished for use as the site of the conference that Henry hoped to effect between himself and King James. The hunting was excellent. On one day the king and his huntsmen slew two hundred deer. The nearby marshes belonging to the river offered a bounty of ducks, geese, swans, and fish of all kinds. Nothing went to waste, and the cooks in the field kitchens were kept as busy as if they had been at Hampton Court, or Greenwich.

Nyssa had a headache and had not gone hunting that first morning in York. She knew that the queen was also in the encampment. When her headache eased, she sought her out, knowing how easily bored Cat could become, and thinking to offer her a game of cards. The guards outside the queen's pavilion nodded and smiled to her as she passed by them unchallenged. Inside, Nyssa was surprised to find that the pavilion was deserted. There were no ladies hovering, waiting to do Cat's bidding, no servants bustling to and fro on a variety of errands.

"Cat?" she called softly. "Cat?" Nyssa passed through from the outer antechamber into the queen's privy. "Cat?" There was no one in the little room outside the queen's bedchamber. Perhaps Cat was asleep. Nyssa drew back the curtain gently, not wanting to waken her friend if she slept. Instead her eyes grew wide with shock.

The tableau before her was so sensual that Nyssa could barely breathe. For a moment she could not even move. She simply stared, mesmerized. The queen and Tom Culpeper lay sprawled and entwined amid the satin and fur coverlet of the royal bed. A single lamp, burning fragrant oil, cast a golden glow over them. Cat was naked as the day she had come into the world. Culpeper wore naught but a silk shirt that was open. Nyssa could see the queen's full breasts, round and lush as for a brief moment her lover changed position. Then he was between her legs, laboring mightily. Cat, her pretty face suffused with lust, was moaning her pleasure, encouraging him onward.

"Ohhh, God, yesss, Tom! Fuck me, darling! Ohhh, yessss! Don't stop! I need you, darling! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

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