“Ahh, Tony! You shall hunt with us this afternoon,” the king said. He turned to his companions. “Why did no one think to invite my lord of Langford this morning? Must I think of everything?” His blue eyes narrowed irritably.
“I shall be honored to join Your Majesty,” Anthony Wyndham said quickly, attempting to forestall Henry Tudor’s ire. “Will you come into the hall now and break your fast? Blaze sets a fine table.”
The Countess of Langford slipped a hand through the king’s arm. “Come, Hal,” she said, using his nickname, as she had always done. “My parents and Tony’s mother have come to meet you. They await Your Majesty within the hall, and I’ve a fine side of beef waiting for you. And there is partridge pie too. As I recall, it was always a favorite of yours. I’ve made it with a wonderful red wine gravy, tiny shallots, and new carrots as well.” She smiled up at him again, and led him into the house.
“Will you join us, gentlemen,” the earl invited the king’s companions, and they followed after him as he conducted them into the Great Hall.
There the earl found his wife already introducing the king to her parents, Lord and Lady Morgan, and his mother, Lady Dorothy Wyndham. His brothers-in-law, Owen FitzHugh, the Earl of Marwood, and Lord Nicholas Kingsley, and their wives, Bliss and Blythe, also greeted His Majesty. Lord Morgan presented his two youngest sons, Henry and Thomas, who were young men of sixteen now.
The king was in his element, for he very much enjoyed the adulation of his subjects. He greeted each of them graciously, praising the Morgans for the fine family that they had raised; asking Lady Dorothy why she had not come to court of late. “There is always room at court for another pretty woman, madame,” he said, chuckling.
Lady Dorothy, now sixty-five, replied, “Alas, sire, my son will not let me go. He says he fears for my virtue.”
The king guffawed loudly. “Indeed, madame, and he is probably right.” He turned back to Blaze. “And where is your fine brood, my little country girl? The last time I heard, you had four lads and a lass.”
“We’ve five sons now, my lord. Our Henry was born two years ago this June past, and named in honor of Your Majesty,” Blaze told him, “and as you can see, I shall shortly deliver an eighth child.”
“There is nothing like a good English wife,” the king said meaningfully, and his companions grew visibly uncomfortable. “How I miss my sweet Jane.”
“Come and sit down, Hal,” Blaze invited him, leading him to the place of honor at the high board. She could see that he was favoring one leg over the other, and realized he would be more comfortable seated. “I shall have the children brought into the hall since you wish to meet them, but I did not want them to intrude upon your visit.”
“Nonsense!” the king boomed. He lowered his bulk into the chair. “I would see them all, even the littlest.”
A servant immediately put a large goblet of wine into the king’s hand, and he quaffed it thirstily. Blaze signaled for her tiring woman, Heartha, and instructed her to fetch the children at once. From the minstrel’s gallery high above the hall, light music began to be heard. The king leaned back in his chair, visibly relaxed now.
The Wyndham offspring came into the hall with Lord Philip Wyndham, the heir, leading the way, and Lady Nyssa Wyndham, the eldest, bringing up the rear, her baby brother in her arms.
“May I present my children to Your Majesty,” Blaze said formally. “This is Philip, our eldest son. He is twelve. And Giles, who is nine; Richard, eight; Edward, four; and Henry, just two.”
Each of Blaze and Anthony’s sons bowed elegantly, including the littlest boy, when he was set down upon his feet by his sister.
“And this is my daughter, Nyssa. Although Tony has raised her like his own, she is the child of my first husband, Edmund Wyndham,” Blaze said.
Nyssa Wyndham curtsied to the king, her deep pink silk skirts billowing prettily about her, her eyes lowered modestly as she rose to stand before her sovereign.
“As fair an English rose as I have ever seen,” the king said in complimentary tones. “How old is the lass, madame?”
“Nyssa is sixteen years of age, sire,” Blaze answered him.
“Is she betrothed?”
“No, my lord,” Blaze replied.
“Why not? She’s pretty enough, and an earl’s daughter. She has a goodly dowry, I have not a doubt, madame,” the king said.
“There is no one with whom we would match her hereabouts, Hal,” Blaze told him. “Her dowry is indeed a very good one. It includes Riverside, a fine house, and the lands that go with it. Nyssa is a well-propertied and -dowered girl. Actually, I should like it if she could go to court for a time.” Blaze smiled sweetly, but looked pointedly at the king.
He began to chuckle, wagging an admonishing finger at her in mock reproach. “Madame,” he growled, “you are shameless, but then I always knew that. You seek a place for your little wench, don’t you? Do you know that every family with an unmatched daughter, indeed any daughter, is importuning me right now for a place in my bride’s household? Great names and small ones too plead for my ear.” His glance swung to Nyssa. “And you, my pretty lass, would you come to court to serve the new queen?”
“Aye, and if it please Your Majesty,” Nyssa said pertly, looking straight at him for the first time.
The king noted that she had her mother’s beautiful violet-blue eyes.
“Has she ever lived anywhere but her home?” he asked.
Blaze shook her head. “Like me, Hal, she is a country girl.”
“She would be gobbled up whole by the rakes at court,” he said. “It would be poor repayment for your friendship, Blaze Wyndham.”
Bliss FitzHugh, Countess of Marwood, who had been listening, now spoke up uninvited. “I have been told that the Princess of Cleves is a most chaste and good lady, sire. I believe my niece would be safe within her household. Then too, my husband and I are returning to court this season. I should be there to watch over Nyssa for my sister.”
Blaze threw her sister a grateful look even as the king said to her, “Very well then, madame, I will appoint your daughter one of the new queen’s maidens as long as my lady FitzHugh is there to act in your stead. Is there anything else I may do for you?” he concluded dryly.
“Appoint Philip and Giles as pages to the Princess of Cleves’s household,” Blaze said daringly.
Henry Tudor burst out laughing at her audacity. “I do not think I shall ever play cards with you again, madame,” he chortled. “As I recall, you always beat me. Very well, I will accede to your request. They’re pretty lads, and mannerly too, I can see.” Then he grew serious. “When you were with me, Blaze Wyndham,” he said quietly, “you never asked anything of me. I remember there were many who called you a fool for it.”
“When I was with you, Hal,” she replied in equally soft tones, “I wanted for nothing, for I had your affection and respect.”
“And you still do, my little country girl,” he said. “I look at your fine brood, and I wonder if they would have been mine had I taken you for my wife instead of the others.”
“Your Majesty has a fine son, I am told, in Prince Edward,” she answered him. “You want the best for him even as I want the best for my children. I ask now for them. You know I would not presume upon your generosity otherwise.”
Reaching out, the king patted her slender hand with his fat one. “I never knew any woman, nay not even my sweet Jane, whose heart was as pure and good as yours, my little country girl,” he told her. “My new queen will be pleased to have your children in her service.” He looked to Blaze’s sons. “What think you, Master Philip and Master Giles? Will you be happy to serve us, and our queen?”
“Aye, Your Grace!” the two boys chorused brightly.
“And you, Mistress Nyssa? Will you be as content as your brothers?” He chuckled and went on without even waiting for an answer. “She will have all the young men eager, I’ll vow. You will have your work cut out for you, my lady FitzHugh, watching over thi
s English rose.”
“I am quite capable of looking after myself, Your Grace,” Nyssa said. “After all, I am the eldest of my mother’s children.”
“Nyssa!” Blaze was scandalized by her daughter’s impudence, but the king laughed good-naturedly.
“Do not scold her, madame. She reminds me of my own daughter, Elizabeth. Nyssa is of the same ilk. An English rose, but a wild rose, I am thinking. It is a relief to know she is a strong girl. She will need that strength at court, as well you know, Blaze Wyndham. Now, am I to be fed? I have agreed to your requests.” He chuckled. “There is no need to starve your king into submission.”
Blaze signaled her servants, and immediately they began to hurry forth in a line bearing the kitchen’s best efforts to please their sovereign. As the Countess of Langford had promised, there was beef; a great joint of it, which had been packed in rock salt and roasted until its juices began to seep through its saline armor. There was a large country ham, sweet and pink; trout, broiled with lemons and served upon a bed of fresh raw spinach from the garden; and of course, the partridge pies, six of them, their crusts oozing gravy, wine-scented steam coming from the decorative vents cut into their crusts. There were several ducks, well-roasted, sitting in a sea of plum sauce upon a silver salver, and a platter heaped high with tender baby lamb chops. Bowls of peas, roasted onions, and dishes of carrots in a marsala and cream sauce were offered. There was freshly baked bread, newly churned butter, and a fine small wheel of sharp cheddar cheese.
The king had always been a fine trencherman, but his increased appetite astounded Blaze. He helped himself liberally to the beef and ham, ate one whole trout, a duck, a partridge pie, and six lamb chops. He seemed to enjoy the roasted onions particularly, smacking his lips with pleasure. He devoured a loaf of bread, a great deal of butter, and at least a third of the cheese by himself. His cup was never allowed to grow empty, and he drank with as much gusto as he ate. When one of several apple tarts was presented for his inspection and approval, the king nodded happily.
“I’ll have it with clotted cream,” he ordered the servant holding the large tart, and when it was readied to his satisfaction, he ate it with obvious pleasure. “ ’Tis a fine repast you have served me, madame,” he complimented his hostess. “I shall not be hungry until dinnertime surely.” Loosening his belt, he belched softly.
“If I had eaten that much,” Lord Morgan murmured to two of his sons-in-law, “I should not be hungry until Michaelmas next.”
As the king was about to take his leave to return to the hunt, the Countess of Langford went into sudden labor, to her great surprise.
“The child is not due for another few weeks,” she gasped, horrified to have spoiled the king’s departure.
“Surely, Blaze,” her mother, Lady Morgan, replied dryly, “you have had enough babies to know that they come when they are ready; not a moment before, not a moment later.” She turned to the king. “Go back to the hunt, Your Grace, and take my lord Wyndham with you. This is woman’s work. I’ve never known a man to be worth anything when his wife is laboring to bring forth their child.”
“Because the man does his labor first, madame,” the king said with a grin.
The men tramped forth as ordered, and helped by her mother, mother-in-law, and her sisters, Blaze gained her bedchamber. There, after a relatively brief labor of some two hours, she birthed twin daughters.
“I cannot believe it!” she said, astounded. “I thought Tony only good for lads, and here he has given me two little lasses.”
“They are identical in face and form,” her mother said with a chuckle. “I was wondering if any of my girls should one day bear twins, as I have four sets of my own. You are the first one to do so, Blaze.”
“I shall ride out and tell Papa,” Nyssa said. “He will be thrilled, I know.” She peered down at the new babies. “They are sweet!”
“Now,” said Lady Morgan, “you will have these two dear little girls to raise, and will not miss Nyssa so much when she goes to court.”
“No, Mama,” Blaze replied, “Nyssa shall always be dear to my heart wherever she may be. She is all I have left of Edmund Wyndham. I must see her happily married else I have not done my duty by him, and he was the best of men, as you must surely remember.”
“He was that,” Lady Morgan agreed, and Lady Dorothy Wyndham, who had been Edmund Wyndham’s half sister, nodded. “Without him your sisters would not have been able to marry so well, nor would your father been able to repair our fallen fortunes. I bless the day when he first came to Ashby. I pray for his good soul each night.”
The new mother was made comfortable, and her babies swaddled. Heartha, Blaze’s tiring woman, bustled in with a nourishing posset for her mistress. When Blaze had drunk it down, she was left alone to rest.
The women gathered back in the Great Hall of RiversEdge, chatting companionably while they waited for Lord Wyndham and the other gentlemen to return home, as all of the men but Lord Morgan had joined the king’s hunting party.
“I wonder what she will call them?” Blythe, Lady Kingsley, said.
“Ah, yes, Mama, I wonder if she will have your flair for feminine names?” Bliss, Countess of Marwood, chuckled.
“Nyssa is unique,” their mother noted.
“But Edmund named her,” Lady Dorothy told them. “Blaze chose Nyssa’s Christian name in honor of Edmund’s first wife, Catherine de Haven, but it was Edmund who said his daughter should be called Nyssa, which is Greek for ‘a beginning.’ Edmund bragged she was to be the first of many children. He could not know it would be my Anthony who would father the Wyndham line, and not he. I miss him even now, though he is dead these fifteen years past.”
“Blaze has given her sons very sensible names,” Blythe said.
“But these are girls, you silly creature!” sharp-tongued Bliss said to her identical twin. “Blaze will choose wonderful names for them, I am absolutely certain! How can she not, given the example set by our dear mama? Ohh, I cannot wait to learn what she has chosen!”
“Our daughters have sensible names,” Blythe countered.
Bliss threw her twin a disgusted look.
Lord Wyndham returned, and to their immense surprise, the king was with him.
“I must go and congratulate my little country girl,” he said, his eyes misting with sentiment. He turned to Anthony Wyndham. “May I offer you my congratulations, sir, on your fine family!” He shook Anthony Wyndham’s hand heartily.
Blaze awoke to find the king at her bedside beaming down at her. She blushed, remembering a time past when his visits to her bed had been of a more intimate nature. Henry Tudor’s eyes twinkled back conspiratorially, but his words were of a most proper nature.
“I am pleased to see you looking so well after your travail, madame,” he told her, and he kissed her hand.
Blaze smiled up at him warmly. “There was little travail, Your Grace. I am like an old tabby cat. I’ve birthed my babies quickly in recent years. Still, it was good of you to return to see me.”
“I have looked on your lasses, Blaze. They are as pretty as their mother. What will you call them?”
“With your permission, Hal,” Blaze said, “I should like to call the firstborn Jane, after her late majesty. The second I will call Anne, in honor of the Princess of Cleves, who will soon be your new queen and helpmeet. It seems fitting, as you were here this day, the day my little girls were born into the world.”
The king, a sentimental man who enjoyed his role as a benevolent monarch, grew teary. Whipping a large square of white silk from his doublet, he dabbed at his eyes. Then turning to Lord Wyndham, he asked, “Have you a priest in the house, Tony?”
The earl nodded. “Fetch him, then,” the king commanded. “He is to baptize your daughters this day, and I will stand godfather to them both. This is my desire, my little country girl,” he said to Blaze. “Now I shall always have you and your good family in my life.”
“Oh, Hal, you honor us so greatly,” Blaze
said, near tears herself.
A servant was sent to fetch Father Martin. The priest had been with the family since the time of Edmund Wyndham, and had grown old in the service of the Earls of Langford. When he was told that the countess had delivered twin daughters that very afternoon, and that the king himself would stand godfather to them, and that the baptisms were to be performed immediately, he hurried to find his best vestments, telling the servant, “Find Master Richard, and tell him to light the altar candles. I will expect him to serve.”
“Aye, Father Martin,” came the respectful reply.
Blaze was carried to the family’s private chapel on a litter, that she might see her daughters christened. Bliss rolled her eyes in disgust, and Blythe was hard put not to giggle when they were asked by the priest to name the infants now being held by their third godmother, their elder sister, Nyssa.
“Jane Marie,” Blythe said sweetly.
“Anne Marie,” Bliss almost snapped.
The king beamed effusively, and taking each baby in turn from Nyssa, handed them to Father Martin for baptism.
When the sacrament had been completed, the Countess of Langford was returned to her bedchamber, where a health was drunk to the newest of the Wyndham offspring. The king then took his leave.
“A messenger will be sent to tell you when Mistress Nyssa is expected at court, my dear little country girl,” the king told Blaze. “I will want her to come early that she may be familiar with her duties before my bride arrives. She must know where to go, and what to do, and who is who, if she is to be of true service to Princess, ah, Queen Anne. I expect the lady late this autumn. You will not have a great deal of time to prepare your daughter, but I promise you, I will see no harm comes to her in my care, or my queen’s. She will be safe, Blaze Wyndham.”
She took his hand up and kissed it respectfully. “I thank you, Hal, for your kindness to us all,” she told him, and then, exhausted, fell back against her pillows asleep.
Smiling, the king arose from her bedside and, returning to the Great Hall, took his farewell of the Wyndhams and their kin. “I shall look forward to seeing you at court, Mistress Nyssa. Your brothers too. Serve the queen well, and you will always have my friendship.” He then departed RiversEdge.
Love, Remember Me Page 2