Page 8 of Love, Remember Me

Nyssa giggled. Uncle Owen could be so forceful when he chose to be. Usually he pretended to allow Aunt Bliss her way in all things, not fully realizing that Bliss had wrapped him about her little finger years ago. The young girl strove to ease the situation. "I think the house sweet. I have never lived in town."

Bliss, finally realizing the situation, said, "I am certain that you have done your best, Owen, but why are we standing in the street? Let us go and see exactly what it is we do have."

Inside, Bliss found the house not quite as bad as she had anticipated, but certainly not as good as she had hoped for. They stepped into a narrow hall to ascend equally narrow stairs up a flight to the first floor of the house.

"The library is in the front, a family hall in the rear," the earl said quietly. "On the lower floor there is a kitchen, although most of our meals will come from the public cook house nearby. On the next floor up are three bedchambers, and the top floor will house the servants. A garden and a stable come with the house as well. 'Twas the best I could do under the circumstances."

Bliss nodded. "We'll be going to Greenwich shortly," she told them hopefully. "It isn't as if we had to live here forever."

"The house in Greenwich is larger," the earl said with a smile. "Someone had already rented it, but there was a near-death in the family, so of course they could not come to court. I arrived at just the right time to snap it up. I rented it through April. Even if we have to go up to London, the Greenwich house will be convenient for us. It sits in its own little park, my dear. Did I tell you that?"

"No, you did not, my lord," Bliss answered him slowly. "Your description, however, will make our time here in Richmond easier."

They had moved into the small family hall as they talked. A cheerful fire was burning in the paneled room, lit by the house's caretaker, who had been expecting them. The furnishings were plain, but everything seemed clean, which was a relief to Bliss.

"When are we to report to court, Aunt?" Nyssa asked nervously.

"Not until tomorrow," her aunt reassured her. "Sir Anthony Browne's wife will be supervising the maids of honor, I am told. She is very strict, but fair, I have heard. The pages too will be in her charge, I believe." She fixed her Wyndham nephews with a stern look. "You two will have to behave," she warned them. "You, in particular, Philip. As your father's heir, you must not disgrace the Langford earldom. The king has done your mother a great favor in placing you in Queen Anne's household."

"I have certainly been taught the social graces, Aunt," Philip Wyndham said loftily. "I know well what is expected of me. I would hardly disgrace myself, or my family's name."

"And you shall make us all proud," Owen FitzHugh said heartily, clapping his nephew on the back and avoiding his wife's outraged look.

Bliss, however, was not to be thwarted. "You must be more careful, Philip, and think before you speak," she chided him.

A wink from his uncle encouraged young Lord Wyndham to hold his tongue. "Yes, madame," was all he replied.

It was now late in the day. Bliss ordered a simple meal served, that her brood might retire early. "Even though the Princess of Cleves has not yet arrived," she warned them, "this will likely be the last full night of sleep you have for some time."

The four male cousins were to share one of the bedchambers. Nyssa would have a small room barely large enough to contain a bed and her baggage. The little serving maid who had come with her fromRiversEdgewas to sleep on the bed's trundle.

"It ain't much, Mistress Nyssa," the girl, who was called Tillie, said plainly. "Me dad's dogs have more room in their kennel." Tillie's father was the head gamekeeper atRiversEdge. She was an outspoken girl, small of stature, with a pleasant but plain countenance. Her flaxen hair was neatly plaited into a single braid that hung down her back, and her brown eyes were sharp with a look of intelligence.

"We won't be here for very long, Tillie," Nyssa promised.

"The countess's woman says you will be going to court first thing in the morning to pay your respects to the king and meet the mistress of the maids. We'd best decide what you're to wear now. There will be precious little time come morning, I'll warrant."

Nyssa nodded. Tillie was a sensible and practical girl. She had been in Nyssa's service for ten months now, having been chosen by her mother's own beloved tiring woman, Heartha, who had personally trained the girl in her duties. Tillie was Heartha's niece, and had been raised atRiversEdge. She was the same age as her mistress.

"Now we'll want to make a good first impression," Tillie said thoughtfully, "but we don't want to look bold, do we?" She shook her head, answering her own question. "The burgundy? Nay. The apple-green? 'Tis not quite right, I'm thinking."

"What about that lovely violet-blue that matches my eyes?" Nyssa asked her maid. " 'Tis very flattering, Tillie."

"Aye, but you'll attract too much attention in it, being a newcomer, I'm thinking. 'Tis not the kind of impression you'll want to be making, mistress." She furrowed her brow in concentration, and then suddenly it cleared. "The peach velvet!" she said. " 'Tis just the thing! You'll wear it with that wonderful cream and gold damask underskirt, Mistress Nyssa. I'll unpack them right away and get the wrinkles out. You'll look as you should, a beautiful, well-to-do young lady. You get into bed and go to sleep. We have an early start before us. You'll have to bathe in the morning, and I must do your hair. Here, let me help you to undress, and then I'll be about my business preparing your gowns and petticoats for the morrow."

Nyssa didn't think she could sleep. She was far too excited, yet the moment her head touched the pillow, she was off. When Tillie awoke her in the morning, it was yet dark, and the room, without a fireplace, was freezing. She snuggled beneath her coverlets, protesting as Tillie fussed at her to get up.

"I've got a tub ready and waiting for you, Mistress Nyssa," Tillie said. "The water will not stay hot in this place for long. You had best hurry, or 'twill be as icy as the room itself."

"I don't care," Nyssa muttered defiantly, and burrowed deeper beneath the down. It was so cozy in her bed. She shrieked as Tillie yanked the covers from her. "No!" She struggled to grab them back.

"Into the tub with you," Tillie said firmly. "You'll not be disgracing the Wyndhams of Langford by coming before the king and his grand court with the stink and stain of the road upon you, mistress! Why if my aunt Heartha learned of it—and believe me, that gossiping Maybelle who serves Lady Bliss would be quick to tell her—Aunty would tan the hide right off of me. You wouldn't want that to happen, Mistress Nyssa, would you?" she wheedled. "Lord knows I try to do my best by you."

Nyssa laughed. "And you do, Tillie," she assured the servant. Climbing from her bed, she pulled off her nightgown to get into the small, round, oaken tub. She sat down in the warm water, shivering slightly. Sometimes Tillie sounded like Heartha, and far older than her years, but at other times she was such fun.

"I've got to do your hair," Tillie warned her apologetically. " 'Tis filled with dust from the road." Before Nyssa could answer, Tillie poured a small bucket of warm water over her mistress's head. "You do the rest, and we'll be done the faster," she said.

"Hurry!" Nyssa said through chattering teeth. The room was terribly cold, and with wet shoulders, she felt it all the more. Taking up the small cake of hard-milled soap, she quickly washed herself, gasping as Tillie poured another bucket over her head to rinse the first washing away.

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