Love, Remember Me

by Bertrice Small

  “You know that I would not place her in any danger, Jane,” Culpeper said. “God help me, but I love her, yet I can barely stand the time I must be away from her. When I hear the king brag of how he has used her, and how she cried out with his expertise, I want to puke!”

  “You must not be jealous, Tom laddie, or you will spoil everything,” Lady Rochford cautioned him. “The king is an old man. How much longer can he live? Then you will be free to pursue Cat without fear. For now, however, you must not place her in any danger.”

  Nyssa moved on. She did not want them to catch her, but she also did not want to hear any more. The whole situation was appalling. That they dared to speak of the king’s death! Such a thing was treason in itself, but should she accuse them, they would deny it, and it would simply be her word against theirs. She was Nyssa Wyndham, who had once had the king’s eye and lost it to Catherine Howard. Nyssa Wyndham, who was mysteriously married off to the Duke of Norfolk’s grandson. It was an impossible situation. What was she to do?

  Perhaps if she spoke to the queen. Reasoned with her. Were they not friends? Aye! That was what she would do! She would go directly to Cat and tell her she knew her secret. That she did not want to hurt her friend, just bring her to her senses. That she wanted to help. That Cat must not continue to betray the king, for she was sure to be caught in the end. That they would all fall victim to the king’s anger and hurt. Cat was not stupid. Cat would see the sense of what she told her. She would realize that Lady Rochford was nothing more than a bawd, encouraging her to bad habits. Aye! She would speak to the queen.

  Chapter 13

  “What do you mean, ‘you know’?” Catherine Howard demanded nervously of her friend Nyssa de Winter.

  The two young women were walking together along the sandy beach. Although the day was fair, the flat white horizon indicated that the weather would soon change. It was their last day at Hull. Tomorrow they would move on again, heading south for the capital. It had not been easy to get the queen all to herself, but Nyssa had made certain that Tom Culpeper would not be left behind today when the king went fishing. Last night at the banquet she had innocently told the king that she had heard that Master Culpeper was a fisherman par excellence, yet, she said, wide-eyed, she had seen no evidence of it to date. The king had absolutely insisted that Master Culpeper join him on their last day, much to Nyssa’s delight. The handsome man had glared angrily at her.

  Nyssa had coaxed the queen out into the fresh air, and Cat, her boredom beginning to settle in again, had gone willingly. The other ladies were just as glad to be left behind. Walking in the sunshine was not an activity most of them endorsed. Tomorrow they would be on the road again, and there would be no delightful interludes until they reached Windsor.

  Now, Catherine Howard, her blue velvet skirts blowing about her, repeated her question. “You know what?”

  “About you and Tom Culpeper,” Nyssa replied.

  “I do not know to what you refer,” the queen said coldly.

  “Cat, I saw you together.” Nyssa’s cheeks grew pink with the recollection. “There was no mistaking what you were doing. I did not mean to spy, I swear it! I came to fetch you one day in York when the king was out hunting and I had remained behind because I had a headache. When my head felt well enough, I came to ask if you desired a game of cards. I called to you, but you did not answer. I thought perhaps that you were sleeping, so I lifted up the flap to your sleeping area. It was then I saw you. I am sorry.”

  The queen ceased her denials now, saying, “What do you want of me, Nyssa? Gold? Jewels? A high position for your husband or some other relative? I will give you whatever it is you want in exchange for your silence. You are not the first to blackmail me.”

  “Your Grace!” The shock in Nyssa’s voice was so genuine that it startled the queen.

  “Well, you must want something,” Catherine Howard said petulantly, “or you would not have told me that you knew. What is it?”

  “I want you to cease this reckless behavior, Cat,” Nyssa said to her. “You endanger not just yourself, but many others as well. What has driven you to such a thing? You have a husband who loves you and gives you everything. You are Queen of England!”

  “It is not enough!” Catherine Howard said low. “Oh, Nyssa, I never knew it would be like this! The jewels, the clothing, the servants, the privileges of being a queen are wonderful, but I would give them all up in a trice had I but known the rest. Now I am caught like an animal in a net. I am the plaything of an old man, and I hate it. I want to love, and be loved as you are.” She half sobbed. “Why has not love remembered me?”

  “You are loved,” Nyssa said quietly. “The king adores you, Cat. He can scarce keep his hands from you even in public. So much so that it is spoken about by the common people. He has not changed since the days he courted you. Surely you were not so blinded by the perquisites of being a queen that you overlooked the fact Henry Tudor was hardly in the first flush of his youth. I saw it. I lived in terror that he would favor me above you. Why could you not see it?”

  Above them the gulls screamed and mewled as they swooped and soared above the two young women.

  “You do not know what it was like to be born a Howard. My mother died when I was not yet five. My father’s only interest was in finding another rich widow to marry, and in obtaining some position that would take him away from his five children. I was sent to the Howards at Horsham with my sisters to be brought up. We were raised like a litter of kittens or puppies. From the moment we arrived it was impressed upon us that though our lineage was the finest, we were poor relations. We must take what was given us and be thankful for whatever we got, no matter how coarse. I was given no education. I hid in the schoolroom where my brothers and other male relations were being taught so I might learn to read, and write my name. My hand is poor to this day, and I cannot spell to save my soul.

  “Until I came to court I never had a garment made just for me. Everything I wore had been worn by someone before me. I handed my clothes, as I outgrew them, down to my little sisters. Sometimes the garments I was given were in such terrible condition I was afraid they would tear each time I put them on. Yet if I did not preserve them for Elizabeth and Mary, I was beaten for my carelessness and wastefulness.”

  Nyssa was astounded by Cat’s description of her childhood. How different it was from her own pampered upbringing as the only daughter in a houseful of little brothers. She had been loved and cossetted from her birth by her parents, her grandparents, and all of her extended family. Her stepfather had spoiled her constantly. All of her siblings had been raised in the same loving manner. She was amazed that the powerful and wealthy Howards could treat their young so badly. But then, should she have been surprised? She knew what Varian’s early life had been like.

  Still, it was no excuse for the queen’s adultery. “Under the circumstances, Cat, I should think, then, that the king’s deep love for you would have made you happy instead of unhappy,” Nyssa said.

  “He does not love me,” Catherine Howard said. “Oh, he thinks that he loves me, but what he loves is having a pretty young wife to flaunt before King François I of France and the Holy Roman Emperor. Everyone says so. A pretty young wife whom his courtiers envy—that is what pleasures him, Nyssa. As a lover he is horrendous, I assure you. Did your mother not ever speak about it to you? She was, after all, his mistress for a short time.”

  Nyssa shook her head. “It is not something a mother would discuss with her daughter, Cat. The intimacies, I mean.”

  “Well,” the queen allowed, “perhaps he was not so gross in her day. He was still a young man then. But now, he is so fat, Nyssa, that he cannot mount me like a normal man. No! He must either sit me on his lap atop his manhood or I must kneel before him upon our bed, or stand bent over braced upon a table while he enters my female passage from the rear. If he lay atop me, he would kill me! Then he grunts and sweats over me until he has received his pleasure. Were I not able to quickly obtain
mine, I should have none myself.”

  I do not want to hear this, Nyssa thought, shocked. And still Cat did not understand what was involved. “Whatever your difficulties or disappointments, Cat,” she patiently explained to her friend, “you are married to Henry Tudor. You are his wife until death parts you. You have no other choice. If this adultery is discovered, you will lose your head, Cat. Your cousin Anne, for all her temperament, was innocent of the crimes with which she was charged. Everyone knew it, though no one would dare to speak the truth. And still she was beheaded. You are not innocent, Cat. If you fall, you will take the house of Howard down with you. Unfortunately my husband is Duke Thomas’s grandson. If you hurt the king’s heart and his pride, he will strike out with all the venom of a poisonous snake at anyone with Howard connections.”

  “But I love Tom Culpeper, and he loves me,” the queen said plaintively.

  “If Tom Culpeper really loves you, Cat, then speak to him. Tell him that his love endangers both your lives. If he wishes to squander his own life away, then he is free to, but if he truly loves you, he will want to protect you, Cat. Besides, what if you should become with child? Would you foist a bastard heir upon England?”

  “Have I not said that I know well how to meddle with a man and not become enceinte?” the queen bragged. Then she shivered, drawing her cloak about her. “It is growing cloudy and cold, Nyssa. Let us walk back to the encampment.”

  “You have not promised me yet that you will give up this madness,” Nyssa said. “If the duke learns of it, he will denounce you himself to save his own skin. He was the first to desert Anne Boleyn.”

  “He will not learn of it if you do not tell him,” Cat said slyly. “Ohh, Nyssa! Tom is the only thing that keeps me happy.”

  “Who else knows, Cat?” Nyssa asked. “You could not carry on this liaison without help. And did you not tell me earlier that you were being blackmailed? The situation is already out of control. You have escaped detection only because we have been on progress. Once we have returned to London, it will be harder, and more dangerous.”

  “Rochford knows,” the queen said. “You know how we always made fun of her and thought her silly? Well, she isn’t, Nyssa. She has been so kind, and she knows how to keep a secret. I could not do without her. She understands how I feel. She does!”

  “And the others? The ones who stoop to blackmail?”

  “They do not know about Tom,” Catherine Howard said. “They are Joan Bulmer, Katherine Tylney, Alice Restwold, and Margaret Morton. Then, too, there’s Francis Dereham, my secretary. I’ve told you about him. They were all with me at Lambeth. The old dowager did not keep as tight a rein upon her charges as she should have. We were sometimes very naughty. But by giving them places in my household, I have silenced their wagging tongues. They are not dangerous, Nyssa. You need not worry about them.”

  “Were there others, Cat? Others who knew you at Lambeth?”

  “Aye,” she said, “but I could not offer them places, for it would have seemed odd had I done so. I cannot employ everyone who knew me in my childhood, after all. They understood.” The queen turned back toward the encampment. Their private interview was at an end.

  Catherine Howard is teetering upon a precipice, and she does not even realize it, Nyssa thought, amazed. The whole situation was absolutely terrifying. She and Varian had to go home. They had to go home to Winterhaven before the king found out about all of this and wreaked his vengeance on them. She could no longer bear the burden alone. She must talk with Varian. They must leave the progress at Amphill. If they were out of sight, the king would forget all about them. Cat had not promised to give up Tom Culpeper. When she was caught in her misbehavior, and she would be, at least the de Winters would not be held responsible. Nyssa was almost frantic in her determination to flee the court now.

  Because of the early departure planned for the next morning, there was no banquet or dancing that evening. For the first time in many days Nyssa and Varian had time alone together. A charcoal brazier warmed their bed space, its orange coals casting a faint glow about the chamber, the candles making shadows upon the walls. Propped up by pillows and bolsters, they sat naked in their camp bed sipping wine.

  Nyssa knew this would eventually lead to lovemaking, and she needed to broach the subject of the queen before that happened. “I must speak with you on a serious matter,” she told him.

  “Hummmmm,” he said, a finger trailing suggestively down her thigh and then back up again. “Why do you want to be serious now?”

  “Because,” she said with a small chuckle, “it seems to be the only time I have to do so. Do you realize that ever since we joined the royal progress, we have hardly been together at all except at night in bed? And some nights one of us has retired ahead of the other and fallen asleep. You spend your days with the king ahorse. I spend mine with your cousin. That, Varian, is where the problem lies.”

  “Has Cat been whining at you about her boredom?” he said. He reached over to take her in his arms and kiss her, but she pulled away.

  “She is having an affair, Varian,” Nyssa told him.

  He stiffened and looked sharply at her. “Who the hell told you such a treasonous thing?” he demanded.

  “No one told me, my lord. I caught them myself, but until today Cat did not know that I knew. Sin Vaughn is also aware of what is going on between the queen and his friend Tom Culpeper. I have been flirting with him in order to find out, Varian. Lady Ferretface knows too, I fear. She seems to encourage Cat to this madness.”

  Nyssa then went on to tell him the rest of the sordid tale of blackmail and adultery. When she had finished, she said, “Sooner than later, it will all come out, Varian. The king will be like a mad, wounded animal. He will strike out at the Howards for causing his pain. Your position is not safe. If we go home, however, then he is less likely to think of us in connection with Duke Thomas and the rest of the Howards. We have Edmund and Sabrina to think about. I can see no other way.”

  “Aye,” he agreed with her. “We certainly cannot tell my grandfather, at this point. If it had not gone so far, we might have, and he could have exercised some control over Cat, but not now. The duke will protect himself first. The rest of the Howards and their kin will have to scramble for their lives. Damn! How could Cat be so stupid? I do not know why my grandfather chose her for the king. She is and will always be a heedless girl. She thinks only of her own pleasure. God help us all!” He ran an impatient hand through his dark hair. “You should have told me immediately, sweeting, and you should not have involved yourself with Sir Cynric Vaughn.”

  “I thought I could reason with Cat, Varian. I believed I could bring her back to her senses, but she simply refuses to understand how serious this is. She thinks if she can continue to please the king, all will be well. She will not accept the possibility that someone may expose her.”

  He shook his head. “Poor Cat. She does not understand that there is much more involved than just her marriage. The Church is divided between the more orthodox form of worship and the reformers. Each side thinks they have God’s blessing on their endeavors. They will do whatever they have to do to gain their way, even if it means toppling a foolish little girl off her glittering throne. I do not want to be here to see that happen. You are right, Nyssa. There is nothing we can do. We must go home!”

  “Oh, Varian, I feel so sorry for Cat, and for the king too,” Nyssa said softly. She lay her head upon his broad chest.

  He stroked her dark hair. It was soft and silky, and faintly perfumed. He had never before loved any woman until her. He knew that he would never love any woman but her. “We can do nothing for them,” he said quietly. His voice was sad, and she raised her head up to look at him.

  “What is it, Varian?” she asked him.

  “Your sorrow is for the king and Cat. Mine is for my grandfather. I cannot help but wonder what kind of a life he would have had were he not so desirous of power. Why could he not be content with his lands and his family? His
responsibilities are great, and yet he is constantly seeking more. Why could he not be happy with all that he has? He is so fortunate.”

  “He is a great man,” Nyssa admitted reluctantly, “and great men are not like you and I, my love.” Then she kissed him.

  His head swam at the touch of her lips. He wrapped his arms about her and held her close. “I adore you,” he told her softly.

  She smiled seductively up at him. “You lust after me,” she told him, caressing his cheek with a teasing hand.

  “Aye, I do,” he admitted, answering her smile. “I think we are wise to take advantage of this interlude, sweeting.” A hand reached out to cup her breast, and her nipple puckered at his touch. “Such an eager little girl, she is,” he crooned, stroking the firm breast beneath his fingers. Bending his head, he licked at her skin, faintly salty, yet sweet to his tongue. She murmured, and shifted against him so that they were closer. His mouth closed over the taut nipple, suckling hard upon it, making her whimper low. His teeth tenderly scored the tender nub, and she cried out softly. His hand cradled her head. His mouth now found her throat, and his hot kisses made her wild with her own deep longing for him.

  “Oh, my darling,” she whispered to him. “I do love you so very much! I can imagine no other life than as your wife and lover!”

  He was almost ashamed of his eagerness to possess her, but her excitement was every bit as great as his. She sobbed with pleasure as he entered her, shuddering as he filled her with an incredible sweetness. There could be no more than this! It was so overwhelming that she could scarcely bear the pleasure of it. And afterward she lay contented in his arms, contented even as she knew he was contented. Later they would make love again, and the next time it would be long and drawn out. It was always that way with them. An insatiable hunger to possess each other, followed by a lengthier sweetness. She wondered as she did each time they made love if they had begun another child. She wanted more children, and knew that he did too.