Love, Remember Me

by Bertrice Small

  “I shall not forget, madame,” Nyssa replied, and she curtsied again.

  When they were safely away from Lady Browne’s chambers, Bliss said, laughing, “If she could have frightened us off, Nyssa, she would have.”

  “I wonder if we should not have let her,” Nyssa said thoughtfully.

  “Nonsense!” Bliss replied sharply. “This is a wonderful opportunity for you, Nyssa Wyndham. Your mother would be furious if you came home with your tail between your legs. Besides, it would take more than Lady Browne to frighten us off. She was only thinking of what she might gain from others, eager to place their daughters as maids of honor. Anything can be bought and sold, child. Your mother paid for your position in full many years back. The king owed her a debt and he knew it.”

  Nyssa was silent for the brief time it took to make their way into the public rooms of the palace. There, Lord and Lady Marlowe were waiting for them. Indeed it seemed to Nyssa as if Lady Marlowe had deliberately planned to meet up with them again as soon as she might. With the Marlowes was a young boy with a blotchy face, who shifted his feet nervously and looked extremely uncomfortable. He flushed, embarrassed, as his mother trilled out,

  “Over here, Bliss! Here we are!”

  While Lord Marlowe and the Earl of Marwood renewed their old acquaintance, Lady Marlowe proudly introduced her son Henry to Bliss. It was quite clear that she had a match between her son and Nyssa in mind. The male Wyndhams and their cousins were highly amused.

  Owen FitzHugh decided to take matters into his own hand, saying to Lord Marlowe, “I say, I was just about to take my lads to see the tiltyards and the tennis courts. Why don’t you and young Henry come along with us?”

  “Excellent!” Lord Marlowe enthused, even as his son eagerly agreed.

  “How old is Henry?” Bliss asked her old friend as the gentlemen departed. “He is a quiet boy, much like his father, I think.”

  “Twelve,” Lady Marlowe said, and sighed deeply. “Aye, he is like John. Even more so, I fear.”

  “Nyssa will be seventeen on the thirty-first of December,” Bliss said, and then went on to gently deflate her friend’s hopes. “We mean to make a good match for her here at court. There is none yet to have engaged her heart. She is a considerable heiress, you know. She has her own estate, Riverside; lands from her late father; and her stepfather has settled a goodly sum on her. She is the apple of his eye, and to be frank, the only father she remembers, her own having perished before her second birthday. She is quite a headstrong girl, I fear, and will need the firm hand of an older husband to guide her.”

  They were speaking as if she were not even there, Nyssa thought irritably. She said in her own defense, “Why, Aunt, were you not headstrong in your youth? I do seem to remember hearing stories from Mama.”

  “Headstrong? Me? I do not recall being headstrong at all,” Bliss replied, but her friend and her niece laughed at her denial.

  They had found a quiet spot in which to settle, and the two women seated themselves.

  “Tell me about your family,” Adela Marlowe said. As they began to catch up on each other’s lives over these past years, Nyssa grew restless.

  Seeing them well-engaged, she slipped off, threading her way carefully through a noisy throng of chattering courtiers. Through the windows, Nyssa could see a garden, and when she spied a small door in the same wall, she opened it, stepping out into the crisp morning air. Although it had been cloudy and gray earlier, when they had come to Hampton Court, the skies had finally cleared. The heavens were blue now, and the sun shone brightly down. She drew a long, deep breath. Court was very crowded. Her nose told her that not all the elegantly garbed ladies and gentlemen peopling it were as scrupulous about bathing as she was. It was good to be outdoors, away from them.

  Nyssa began to walk slowly about, exploring her surroundings. The garden was filled with many small ponds, each one ringed with heraldic stone beasts set upon pillars. The wood railings edging the flower beds were painted green and white, the Tudor colors. They were empty now of blooms, but neat and ready for the spring, when it finally would come again. She quickly discovered she was not alone in the garden. A young boy came toward her, smiling, and bowed before her.

  “You are new at court, lady,” he said, and then he grinned mischievously. “I know all the pretty girls. I am Hans von Grafsteen. I am the ambassador from Cleves’s personal page.” He swept his velvet bonnet off his blond head and bowed again most politely.

  She curtsied to him. “I am Lady Nyssa Wyndham, sir, come to court to serve the new queen. The king himself has appointed me a maid of honor.”

  “She vill like you,” Hans said. “You are young, and not so stuck-up as many of these ladies are.”

  “Two of my brothers have come with me to be pages in her majesty’s household,” Nyssa volunteered. This young boy was not as intimidating as all the other people she had seen inside. “How old are you?” she asked him. “I think you are close to my brother Philip’s age, but not quite as old as he is; yet you are older than Giles.”

  “How old are your brothers?” he countered.

  “Thirteen and nine,” she said.

  “I am eleven,” he told her. “The ambassador is my uncle. He is my mother’s eldest brother, and that is how I obtained my place. Who are your people, my lady Nyssa?”

  “I am the daughter of the Earl and Countess of Langford,” she answered him. She did not think it was necessary to explain that Anthony was her stepfather.

  “That is not a great name, I think,” Hans said. “How did you obtain such a coveted appointment as maid of honor to my lady Anne?”

  What on earth am I going to tell him? Nyssa wondered briefly. Then a little voice inside her said, Tell him the truth. “My mother was the king’s mistress many years ago,” she answered him. “They have remained good friends. When she asked him for this appointment, the king gladly complied.” She was relieved to see that Hans von Grafsteen did not seem in the least shocked by her bold revelation.

  Rather, he asked frankly, “Are you the king’s get, lady?”

  Nyssa blushed to the roots of her dark hair. “Ohh, no, sir! My father was Edmund Wyndham, the third Earl of Langford. I am trueborn. My mother was a widow when she came to court to meet the king.” She would now have to explain everything. “My mother afterward married my father’s nephew, who was his heir. The only father I can remember is my stepfather.”

  “Ahh,” Hans said, smiling. Now it made sense to him.

  “Tell me about the lady Anne,” Nyssa said. “I am told she is fair of face and kind of heart. I am pleased to have been chosen to serve her. What is she really like? What language shall I speak to her?”

  The boy looked amused, and then he said, “Do you speak High Dutch, my lady Nyssa?”

  “High Dutch?” She looked puzzled. “Why, no,” she replied.

  “Then you vill not be able to speak to the lady Anne, for it is the only language she knows. In Cleves, vomen, even highborn vomen, are not educated as you English educate your vomen. God and the house; that is vhat the vomen of Cleves know, my lady Nyssa.”

  “How will she speak to the king?” Nyssa wondered aloud.

  “I think it vill not matter,” Hans said frankly. “She comes to cement an alliance, and to haf babies. She need not speak for that.”

  “Oh, you are wrong, I fear, Hans,” Nyssa told him. “My mother always told me how greatly the king values an intelligent woman; a clever woman; a woman of wit. He loves music and dancing and cards. Any woman hoping to please him must conform to these standards. Beauty is not enough for the king, although he appreciates a pretty woman.”

  “Then my lady Anne is doomed on all accounts,” the boy said. “She is not really pretty and knows neither music or cards. She cannot dance, for dancing and many other such pastimes are thought to be frivolous by the court of Cleves.”

  “Ohh, dear,” Nyssa said. “What will happen to the poor lady if the king is not pleased with her? Hans, you must
teach me some words and phrases of High Dutch, so I may help the lady Anne learn to acclimate herself to her new country, and to our ways.”

  How kind she is, the boy thought. None of the other women appointed to the lady Anne’s new household had thought to inquire if there was a way they could make their new queen comfortable. Well, he would help Nyssa Wyndham. He had been at the English court for several months now, and he had quickly decided that his poor princess would have a very difficult time of it. Her upbringing had been so strict and sheltered. The English court was going to be a shock to her. “I vill help you to learn my language, lady. Vhat other languages do you speak?”

  “Just French and Latin,” Nyssa admitted, “although I can read Greek. I was raised in the country, you see, and never thought to come to court.”

  “Vhat else did you learn?” he asked, curious.

  “Simple sums; I read and write a legible hand; and I know some history.” She smiled at him. “The languages came easily. The sums were harder, but Mama says a woman must know enough to be sure that she is not being cheated by her servants or the tradesmen.”

  He laughed, his bright blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Your mama sounds like a practical voman. In Cleves ve like practical vomen. The princess is a practical voman.”

  “She will need to be, I fear, if the king does not like her,” Nyssa said. “Poor lady. It cannot be easy coming from so far away to a strange land with all new customs, and a new language. Do you think she will be able to learn English, Hans?”

  “She is not stupid,” Hans replied, “and although it vill be hard for her at first, I think she vill like England, and its many freedoms. My uncle, who knows her vell, says she is a high-spirited voman, although they haf tried to beat it out of her. A voman should be meek and modest in her behavior.”

  Nyssa giggled. “Not an English woman,” she told him.

  He stared at her. “You are very beautiful vhen you smile,” he said seriously. “Alas I am too young, and of not high enough stature for an earl’s daughter. Still, ve can be friends, can ve not?”

  Nyssa was startled by his frankness, but she managed another smile. He was really very sweet, and she felt safe with him. “Aye, we can be friends, and I will introduce you to my brothers. Perhaps you can teach them some of your language as well, so they may be of true help to the princess, ah, the queen. She is to be the queen, and we must think of her that way, Hans von Grafsteen.”

  “Come,” he said, and he offered her his arm. “I vill escort you back into the palace. It is becoming vindy, and you must not get sick, or another vill leap forvard to steal your place.”

  “Indeed she will,” Nyssa agreed, taking his arm. “Lady Browne tried to frighten me off when I reported to her this morning, but I have come to serve the queen, and serve her I shall, as loyally and as dutifully as I know how.”

  When they reentered the palace, Nyssa found her aunt and Lady Marlowe still engaged in conversation. She had not even been missed. She introduced the ambassador’s page to them, but Adela Marlowe, it seemed, already knew of Hans, and gently corrected Nyssa.

  “Baron von Grafsteen, my lady Wyndham,” she said with an arch smile. “Am I not correct, sir?” She beamed at him.

  He nodded, annoyed. He did not like being a baron, but his father had died two years before, and he was the eldest son. There was no help for it. He wished that automatic wealth had at least come with the title.

  “Hans is to teach me High Dutch. The lady Anne speaks no other language,” Nyssa informed them. “I must have lessons with him every day until the queen arrives. I will be more of a help to her if I can at least communicate with her. Do you not think so, Aunt?”

  “Indeed,” Bliss said, pleased with Nyssa for her quick thinking. She would wager none of the other girls appointed maids of honor would bother to learn the queen’s tongue. She patted her niece’s hand approvingly.

  The Earl of Marwood returned with Lord Marlowe and the young gentlemen. They were introduced to Hans von Grafsteen, and immediately the youngsters became friends. Nyssa felt very much out of place. Her brothers and cousins seemed already at ease in their new surroundings, and her aunt had settled in as comfortably as if she had never left the court at all. Perhaps when the queen came, and she was able to do something other than just stand about, she would feel better. Then suddenly she felt eyes upon her. Looking up, she saw she was being stared at from across the room by a richly clad gentleman. He made her most uncomfortable, and she felt her cheeks grow pink with the heat of embarrassment. She tugged at Lady Marlowe’s sleeve.

  “Who is that gentleman staring at me?” she asked her.

  Adela Marlowe looked quickly across the chamber, and then she too blushed. “God’s bones! ’Tis the Earl of March. He’s one of Norfolk’s grandsons, though born on the wrong side of the blanket, I’m told. He’s notorious, my child! A dreadful womanizer! Do not look back lest he believe you to be encouraging him. No maiden of good reputation wants to be seen with Varian de Winter, and a girl seen alone in his company is ruined!”

  “He is very handsome,” Nyssa said softly, and she didn’t think he looked like a villain.

  “Indeed he is,” Lady Marlowe admitted, “but he is a dangerous man. Why, I’m told most reliably that …” She lowered her voice and whispered to Bliss so that Nyssa could not hear them.

  Bliss paled. “Holy Mother!” she exclaimed.

  “I do not suppose you want to tell me,” Nyssa said with some humor.

  “You are too young,” her aunt said emphatically.

  “I’m old enough to find a husband,” Nyssa teased her.

  “There are some things a woman is always too young to know,” Bliss said firmly, “and this is one of those things.”

  The two women went back to their gossiping, and Nyssa snuck another look at Varian de Winter. He was now speaking with a distinguished gentleman, and fortunately did not notice her. He had a hawklike face with strong features. His hair was very black, and she wondered what color his eyes were. Unexpectedly, he turned his head and looked directly at her. Placing his fingertips to his lips, he blew her a kiss, his smile wicked. Nyssa gasped and quickly turned away, her cheeks burning. Ohh, he was bold! She did not dare to gaze back again, to see if he was still looking at her, but the hair on the back of her neck felt all prickly.

  During the next few days she came to Hampton Court each morning after mass and reported to Lady Browne. Nyssa was introduced to the senior ladies-in-waiting chosen for the queen’s household. Two, Lady Margaret Douglas and the Marchioness of Dorset, were the king’s nieces. The Duchess of Richmond was his daughter-in-law, being married to Henry, Duke of Richmond, the king’s bastard son by Elizabeth Blount. There were two countesses, of Hertford and of Rutland, and Ladies Audley, Rochford, and Edgecombe, plus sixty-five other women of lesser rank. Nyssa was presented to the Earl of Rutland, who had been appointed Lord Chamberlain of the new queen’s household. The management of that household would be his responsibility. She met Sir Thomas Denny, to be the queen’s chancellor, or chief secretary, and Dr. Kaye, the kindly cleric appointed the queen’s almoner, or chaplain.

  There would be a dozen maids of honor, of which only the Bassett sisters—Katherine and Anne, who were the daughters of Lord Lisle, Governor of Calais—and Nyssa Wyndham could be certain of their appointments. There was a list from which the other girls would be chosen, and of course, the new queen would have maidens with her. Most of them would eventually return to Cleves, making places for other English girls, but certainly one or two would remain with Anne. As the available places were so scarce, there was some grumbling about the appointment of a girl unknown to the court.

  The king silenced the carping by greeting Nyssa effusively her second day at court. Spying the girl with Lady Browne, Henry called to her, and Nyssa dutifully came forward to make her curtsey to the king. Henry raised her up himself, kissing her on both cheeks.

  “So, my young lady Wyndham, you have arrived safely. What think
you of this court of ours? Is it unlike anything you have ever seen?”

  “Indeed, Your Grace, it is! I have never been anywhere as grand. Lady Browne is working hard to teach me all I must know to be of true use to our gracious queen. I am even learning High Dutch!”

  The king beamed with obvious pleasure. “Is she not every bit as sweet as her dear mother, my friends?” he demanded of his companions. “You remember Blaze Wyndham, my little country girl? This is her daughter, Lady Nyssa Catherine Wyndham. She is my personal choice to serve my new queen. I have promised her mother that I would keep her safe here among us, for Blaze was most reluctant to let her go.” He patted Nyssa’s slim hand. “Run along now, my sweet child, back to Lady Browne.”

  Nyssa curtsied once again beneath the king’s approving gaze.

  “Well,” murmured Lady Rochford to Lady Edgecombe, “that’s one place that is well-secured. He has made it quite plain to us all, has he not?”

  “Assuredly,” Lady Edgecombe agreed. “I fear it shall quite pique Lady Browne. Twelve places to fill, and at least half will be from Cleves. Margaret had hoped to benefit from the other six, and here the king has filled three of them with girls who cannot be overruled.”

  “I can see places for the Bassett girls,” Lady Rochford said. “After all, Anne served in Queen Jane’s household, and Katherine with the Duchess of Suffolk, but this Wyndham chit is a nobody. Just because her mother was the king’s plaything all those years ago …” Lady Rochford’s dark eyes grew round with speculation. “You don’t think the king is interested in the daughter now, do you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Lady Edgecombe. “He’s about to be a bridegroom again and is already enamored with the new queen’s portrait. He has no time right now for another woman. Besides, the chit is young enough to be his daughter.”

  “The new queen is also young enough to be his daughter,” Lady Rochford noted meanly. “She is but five months older than Princess Mary.”

  Lady Edgecombe look horrified. “You are mad to voice such a thing aloud!” she said. “Are you not satisfied to have been restored to favor despite your unfortunate connections?”