Page 21 of Love, Remember Me

"If there was a way out of this marriage, I would take it, Will," the king said. "She is a damned gross Flanders mare!"

"The lady Anne is taller than you are used to, Hal, but perhaps being able to look a woman in the eye will prove a novelty you will enjoy. She is big-boned, aye, but she is not a fat woman. You must remember that you are not in the full flush of youth yourself, Hal. You are fortunate I think to have such a fine princess for a wife."

"Were this charade not so far gone, I should send her home," Henry Tudor said grimly.

"That would not be like you, Hal," his fool chided. "You have ever been the most elegant and genteel of knights. I have always been proud to serve you, but I should not be proud if you were unkind to this poor princess who has done you no harm. She is far from her homeland, and lonely of heart. If you send her away, who will have her to wife? The shame would be unbearable, and besides, her brother, Duke William, would be forced to declare war on you. France and the Empire would laugh themselves sick at your expense, Hal."

"Will, Will," the king said pitifully, "you are the only one who speaks the truth to me. I should have sent you to Cleves, except that I could not get on without your company." He sighed deeply, and draining his large goblet, arose heavily. "Help me to my bed, fool, and then stay with me. We will talk on other, happier times. Do you remember Blaze Wyndham, Will? My sweet little country girl?"

"Aye, Hal, I remember her well. A gentle and good lady." Will Somers allowed the king to use him as a crutch, and led him to his bed, where he lay down. The fool and his monkey sat at the foot of the royal bed.

"Her daughter is at court now, Will. A sweet girl, but not at all like her mother. Lady Nyssa Wyndham is a wild English rose. She is one of the Princess of Cleves's maids of honor. Her mother asked me for her appointment."

"Which girl is she?" the fool asked his master. "I know little Kate Carey, Bessie FitzGerald, and the two Bassetts. There are two I do not know. Mistress Auburn Curls, and a beauteous dark-haired wench."

"Nyssa is the dark-haired girl. Her eyes are her mother's, though. The other little wench is Catherine Howard, Norfolk's niece." He chuckled. "Mistress Auburn Curls. It is most apropos, Will. Mistress Howard does have rather charming curls. She is a very pretty girl, is she not? God's foot! Any one of those maids would suit me far more than the Princess of Cleves! Why did I listen to Crum? I should have looked about my own court, and taken an English wife. Was not my own sweet Jane an English rose of good stock?"

"Ah, Hal, have you lost your taste for variety?" the fool gently teased the king. "I do not believe you have ever had a German. At least not in my time with you. Did you have one before I came to serve you, Hal? Is it true what they say about German women?"

"What do they say?" the king demanded suspiciously.

"I do not know." The fool chuckled. "I have never had one."

"Nor will I," the king said. "I do not think I can bring myself to couple with her, Will. God's blood, I should have married Christina of Denmark or Marie of Guise instead of this Flanders mare!"

"Hal," his fool admonished sternly, "how convenient your memory is. Marie of Guise was so anxious to wed with you that she hastily pledged her troth to James of Scotland when she learned you were seeking a wife. I suppose she prefers the Scots summers to ours. As for the beauteous Christina, she told your ambassador that had she two heads, one would be at your disposal, but as she had not, she preferred to mourn her late husband another year or two. You are not as fine a catch as you once were, Hal. The ladies are wary of your treatment of your past wives. You are lucky to have the Princess of Cleves, although I am not so certain she is lucky to have you."

"You tread dangerously, fool," the king said in a low voice.

"I speak the truth to you, which is more than those about you will do, for they fear you, Henry Tudor."

"And you do not?"

"Nay, Hal. I've seen you naked. You are but a man like I am. But for an accident of birth, Hal would be the fool and Will the king."

"I think I am a fool," Henry Tudor said, "that I allowed others to choose a wife for me, but there is no help for it now, is there, Will?"

Will Somers shook his grizzled gray head. "Make the best of it, Hal. The lady Anne may surprise you yet." He slipped off the bed, Margot clinging to his neck, and pulled the fur coverlet up over his master. "Go to sleep, Hal. You need your sleep, and I do too. Neither of us is as young as we once were, and the next few days will be full of pomp and circumstance, and too-rich food, and too much wine. You never do anything by halves, and so you will outeat and outdrink us all, and then you will suffer for it on a grandiose scale."

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

THEsixth 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."

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