Page 51 of Love, Remember Me

"Mama was furious that Tony had been so bold as to claim her with a lie she dared not deny for fear of his life, when she was certain she hated him with all her heart. In time, however, he won her over. They are very much in love to this day.

"I have always called Tony 'Papa,' for indeed I cannot remember Edmund Wyndham. He and Mama always promised me that I should choose my own husband. It was a foolish promise to make, I fear. Marriages among people like us are not usually contracted for love, are they?"

"Nay," he agreed with her, "they are not."

"So I am your wife, Varian," Nyssa said quietly, "in the eyes of God, and in those of man. I know how a wife must behave, and I will endeavor to do my duty by you and any children with which we may be blessed. More than that I cannot, nay, I will not promise. I think despite it all that I am fortunate in you as my husband."

Her honesty charmed him. He could not imagine any other woman sitting cross-legged and naked upon a bed, in conversation with an equally naked man, being so charming. "Every word you say, sweeting," he told her, "and every action you take, endears you to me all the more. I am not dissatisfied with this match, and I pray your parents will forgive me for the way in which it was brought about."

"I think my uncle already approves of you, my lord. You still have to deal with my aunt, I fear. Then there is the matter of how my parents are to be told of this marriage between us."

"Can we not wait until we return toRiversEdge?" he asked her. "I should prefer to tell them face-to-face."

She liked him for that. It was the action of an honorable man. "Aye, that would be best, but we shall first have to win over Aunt Bliss. Lady Marlowe has her yet convinced that you are a villain."

Varian's face darkened. "That woman's tongue should be tied in a knot," he muttered. "She is the worst gossip at court!"

Nyssa giggled. "What a marvelous suggestion!" She chuckled. Then she licked the few crumbs remaining from her meal off her fingers and smiled seductively at him. "Come to bed now, my lord. You will catch your death of cold, and I shall have to spend our brief honeymoon nursing you with mustard poultices and herbal tea."

"Do you not wish a piece of tartlet?" he tempted.

"Perhaps later," she said with a small smile, and tossing back the covers on their bed, she beckoned him to join her.

"What manner of woman have I married?" he marveled at her.

"I do not think I know myself," she replied, "but we shall enjoy finding out together, won't we, my lord?"

He burst out laughing. "I said earlier that I should teach you to be naughty, Nyssa, but I do not think it necessary that I teach you. You are, I am pleased to say, quite naughty already."

"You think me naughty because I enjoy your attentions, my lord? I would think you pleased."

"I am pleased, sweeting. Do not think I am displeased by your actions. Nay, I am very pleased indeed," Varian reassured his bride.

"If you are pleased with me, sir, then why do you stand halfway across the room by the fire?" she asked coquettishly.

He turned lazily and lay two more logs upon the fire. Then crossing the room, he climbed into bed with her. "Now, madame," he said, his look a smoldering one, "precisely what is it you want of me?"

Nyssa slipped her arms about him and drew him down so that their lips were almost touching. "Make love to me again, Varian," she murmured softly against his mouth. "I want your passion again."

Gently he caressed her face. He had awakened her to the pleasures of passion, but once the novelty of it wore off, he knew that she would find passion a hollow thing without love between them. She was so very young, and innocent, but he had learned this evening that her heart was a good one. He could but pray God that he could win that heart as easily as he had won her lovely body. Tenderly he kissed her, and then he said, "You may have my passion, Nyssa. It belongs to you even as my love belongs to you, my sweeting. It is yours forever."

Forever, she thought muzzily, giving herself over to his kisses. It was a wonderful thought.

CHAPTER 8

SHEdoes not look like a girl forced into a marriage," Lady Adela Marlowe told her friend, Bliss FitzHugh, the Countess of Marwood.

They were seated in the gardens of the Earl of Marwood's rented house on a lovely spring afternoon, watching as Nyssa and Varian returned from a picnic. About them the narcissus, daffodils, and primroses bloomed in a riotous display of bright color. The young couple strolled arm in arm, the basket in which their meal had been packed dangling from Varian's free hand. Both were dressed casually, the bridegroom in dark breeches, his white silk shirt open at the neck. Nyssa affected country garb in a dark green skirt and white blouse. Her feet were bare and she carried her shoes in one hand.

"Indeed," Lady Marlowe continued, "they do not look unhappy to me at all. Why, your niece has the look of a cat who has swallowed a particularly tasty bird, my dear Bliss. And it is quite clear to anyone observing them that Varian de Winter is absolutely besotted by Nyssa. How can this be? They have only been married two days. All the gossip says it was an enforced union due to Lord de Winter's bad behavior with the girl. I did warn you about him, Bliss," she concluded in superior tones.

"It seems," Bliss replied, "that he has admired Nyssa from the first moment he saw her at Hampton Court last autumn. He was determined to make her his wife, Adela. Nyssa had nothing to do with him, as you well know. She was much too busy with her duties. I really know nothing more about it. The king summoned Owen and me to him the other night, and the next thing we knew, we were in the midst of a wedding. Ohh, I hope she will be happy!"

"She has made her bed, and will have to lie in it," Adela Marlowe said sourly. She was absolutely certain her friend was holding back some delectable tidbit of gossip about the matter. It was really quite mean of Bliss, considering their long-standing friendship. "I can only imagine what her parents will say when they learn of their daughter's outrageous behavior and this hasty wedding," continued Lady Marlowe meanly. "I'm sure the Earl of Langford would wish for a better match for his stepdaughter than the one she has so precipitously contracted."

Bliss's temper finally snapped. "God's bones, Adela!" she swore. "To begin with, my niece is certainly not guilty of anyoutrageousbehavior. Her conduct has been exemplary. Both his grace and the queen have remarked favorably on it. As for Varian de Winter, I find him a most charming man. His estates match Nyssa's, and, most important, he is no fortune hunter. Besides, he is a member of the Howard family. Even you cannot be so dense as to not know who the next queen is to be. Catherine Howard's name is on everyone's lips, and Varian de Winter is her cousin. All the Howards will soon be very high in the king's favor. Will not my niece be sitting pretty then, Adela dear? By the way, have you found a suitable match for your little son yet?" Bliss gave Lady Marlowe one of her best smiles, knowing full well that her friend's lack of success in finding a prospective wife for her son was quite a sore point with her.

"Look at them," Varian murmured to Nyssa as they came across the chamomile-dotted lawn. "They are like two old village goodwives. I wonder whose reputation they are shredding today, sweeting?"

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