Page 36 of Love, Remember Me

"Is all of your family like that?" Varian asked Nyssa.

"You will shortly learn if they are," she responded. "I realize that we have both been trapped into this marriage, my lord. When it is finally fact, I will look forward to your explanation as to why."

CHAPTER 6

ISHALLhear Lady Wyndham's confession privately before I administer the sacrament of marriage," the Archbishop of Canterbury said calmly. "You, Bishop Gardiner, will shrive Lord de Winter."

"Can we not just get on with it," the king grumbled. The Chapel Royal was chilly at midnight, and his leg ached damnably.

"Your grace cannot think that I would allow these two young people to enter into matrimony without observing all the proprieties," Thomas Cranmer said, just the barest touch of censure in his voice. "Particularly under the circumstances that have brought us here tonight. I have, after all, waived the banns."

"Oh, very well!" the king consented irritably, "but do not dally." He glowered at Nyssa. "Remember, madame, you have far more important sins to tell this priest than the envy of another's gown, or an unkind word to one of your fellow maids. And be quick about it!"

Bliss clung nervously to her husband's arm. Ohh, why had she not listened to her brother-in-law and to her mother! If she had not insisted upon chaperoning Nyssa to court, none of this would be happening. Her family would never let her forget it, particularly her husband. From now on, whenever she decided upon a course of action that he disapproved of, he would surely bring up this incident. She peeped up at Owen to see what he might be thinking, but his handsome face was serene and without emotion. Damn him for a smug bastard!

The Earl of Marwood could feel his wife's great disquiet as she fidgeted by his side. He restrained a smile. It served her right! Bliss always wanted to have her own way in everything. Well, at least she would behave herself for a few weeks before she totally forgot her part in this affair. He himself would not have been half as calm as he now was had he not been inquiring discreetly about the Earl of March over the past few weeks. The earl's interest in Nyssa had not escaped him.

Varian de Winter had not quite struck him as a cad. Owen FitzHugh's interest had gained him the knowledge that although there had been one rather unpleasant scandal regarding the gentleman, there had been no other. He was in favor with his grandfather, the powerful Duke of Norfolk; he paid his gambling debts; and his few love affairs were limited to the kind of women who indulged in such affairs. It was said among the gentlemen that Varian de Winter would marry but for the fact that the ladies of the court would not allow his youthful indiscretion to be forgotten.

Owen FitzHugh knew that there was something far more sinister to this "discovery" of his niece in the gentleman's bed tonight, and the hasty wedding about to be performed. How had Nyssa been cajoled into that bed? The girl was not the flighty sort of flibbertigibbet who could be seduced. And how had the king known to seek her in Varian de Winter's bedchamber? He did not think Nyssa was a part of the plot.

The archbishop escorted the bride-to-be into a small private room off the chapel. She knelt respectfully before him. Taking her cold little hands in his warm ones, he said, "Now, my child, you are protected here by the law of the confessional. I shall repeat nothing of what you tell me, but on peril of your immortal soul, Nyssa Wyndham, I want the truth from you. How came you to the Earl of March's bed this night, and why?" His gray eyes bore into her eyes.

"My lord archbishop," Nyssa answered him, her gaze not flinching, "I swear to you that I know not how I came to be in the Earl of March's bed. I went to sleep in my own bed in the Maidens' Chamber. When I awoke, I was in the earl's bed and he was leaning over me. I swear to you that this is the truth. I swear it on my deceased father's honor!"

"Will you swear it on your eternal soul, my child?" Thomas Cranmer asked her softly. When she nodded vigorously, he said, "Tell me again exactly what you remember of this evening."

"There were only four of us tonight in the Maidens' Chamber," Nyssa told him. "Cat, Bessie, and Kate were with me. We gossiped and played at cards. Then Lady Rochford came in bearing a tray. It was a treat, she told us. A secret we must not reveal lest we get her in trouble. We agreed, and she served us tiny glasses of a most delicious cherry cordial. Lady Rochford would not give us more than a single serving for she claimed it was potent and had made her tipsy. Bessie wanted more, but she would not relent. When Lady Rochford wasn't looking, I let Bessie have the rest of mine, for I thought it was too sweet. Then we all disrobed and retired for the night. 'Tis all I remember."

"Nothing more, my child?" he gently encouraged her.

"Well," Nyssa said, "I can vaguely recall a feeling of floating, and when I opened my eyes, I saw velvet bed hangings above and around me. Our beds do not have velvet hangings in the Maidens' Chamber. Then I saw a man's face staring down into mine. I asked him if I was dreaming. He said I was not, and then he said, 'Forgive me, Nyssa,' and he kissed me. It was at that moment that the king burst in with the others," she finished. "There is nothing more, my lord archbishop, but I swear to you that I am no wanton to seek a strange man's bed! You must believe me!"

"I do, my child," he said, and indeed he did. Lady Jane Rochford. The Earl of March. There was a common denominator here, and it was Tom Howard. What mischief was the duke bent upon, and why had it involved ruining the reputation of an innocent maiden? This is a strange conundrum, the archbishop thought to himself. I will need time to puzzle it all out, but eventually I will learn the truth. "Kneel, Nyssa Wyndham, and I will absolve you of your sins," Thomas Cranmer said. Poor child, he said to himself as he blessed her. What have you become involved in?

The archbishop escorted the bride back out into the Chapel Royal, where, assisted by Bishop Gardiner, he quickly married her to Varian de Winter. Her uncle, the Earl of Marwood, acting in her father's stead, gave her away. Her aunt wept copiously. The Duke of Norfolk seemed too pleased with this situation, while the king continued to look furious.

When the two clerics had finished their task, the king said in surly tones, "You will no longer be considered a maid of honor, madame. Your marriage makes that impossible, as you must surely know."

"Of course, Your Grace," Nyssa said softly, "but I would ask your leave to remain in the queen's service for the present. She does need me now."

The girl is no fool, Henry Tudor thought, but then neither had her mother been a fool. Nyssa certainly knew the future Anne of Cleves faced, but she wanted to remain by her mistress's side until the end. He approved of her loyalty. His voice softened a trifle as he said, "Very well, madame. When you inform the queen of your marriage tomorrow, you may tell her I will allow you to remain in her service for the present."

"You are most generous, Your Grace," Nyssa said, curtseying.

"Aye," the king responded. "I am generous to you. I should not be, madame. Your shameless behavior this night does not merit my kindness. Still, for the sake of your sweet mother, I am prepared to be forgiving. Be as good a wife to your husband as your mother is to her husband. That will please me, Nyssa." He gave her his hand, and she kissed it, curtseying again as she did so. The king smiled briefly, then turned to the Earl of March. "Remember, I will expect proof in the morning that this marriage has been consummated, my lord," he said grimly. "If I have the slightest doubt, Dr. Butts will be called upon to examine your wife." Then he turned abruptly and left the chapel, followed by the two clerics.

"I do not know what to say to you," Bliss told her niece.

"Good night, Aunt," Nyssa replied. "Good night, Uncle."

Owen FitzHugh gripped his wife by the elbow and hustled her from the Chapel Royal before Bliss might recover her composure.

Now there were but three people in the king's chapel.

"You have done well, Varian," the Duke of Norfolk congratulated his grandson. Reaching out, he caught Nyssa's chin between his thumb and his forefinger. His cold dark eyes looked into her soft violet-blue ones. He was amused to find she would not look away. A brief wintry smile touched his mouth. "She is a beauty, my boy, and as you said, she has spirit. You'll get strong sons from her."

Nyssa pulled angrily away from his grasp. "You, my lord, are, I assume, responsible for this marriage," she said scathingly. "I think I am entitled to an explanation from you!"

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