Love, Remember Me

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Love, Remember Me Page 35

by Bertrice Small


  Tillie awakened them before first light. Already outside their pavilion they could hear the sounds of activity as the encampment was dismantled about them. Their servants helped them to dress in warm, sturdy traveling garments, for the weather had turned wet overnight. Toby brought them food from the field kitchens: trenchers of hot oats, ham, hot bread, and cheese. They ate everything, knowing it would be late before they ate again.

  “I’ve wrapped a loaf, some cheese, and apples for you, m’lord,” Toby said, “and tucked ’em in your saddlebag. There’s some in your bag too, m’lady. The king’s groomsmen say he’s anxious now to be home. He’ll be riding everyone hard.”

  “You’ve scavenged for the rest of you too, I hope,” the earl said. “This traveling is difficult for all of us.”

  “When are we going home, m’lady?” Tillie asked.

  “We hope to have the king’s permission to leave the progress at Amphill,” Nyssa told her tiring woman. “He promised we could leave before Christmas. We are anxious to return to Winterhaven too, Tillie.”

  The sunny and warm respite they had had in Hull was over, and over too was the summer. It was October. The day was cool. The gray clouds lay low on the land, and the rain poured down. Here and there patches of bright color broke the bleakness as stands of trees, dressed in gold, showed off their autumn leaves. There was no hunting now. The court was eager to return south to lodgings with stone walls that the wind did not get so easily through.

  The damp, cool weather was beginning to bother the king’s ulcerous leg. He rode upon one of the great dun horses that the princess Anne had given him New Year’s last, hunched against the rain, and with his pain. He could be approached by no one but the queen and his faithful fool, Will Somers. The Earl of March despaired, for they could not leave court without the king’s permission.

  “We must wait until we get to Windsor,” he told his wife. “There is no getting to him at the moment.”

  Nyssa was disappointed, but she understood, and strove to be patient.

  They stayed a day at Kettleby, where the queen was already excitedly planning for the Christmas holidays.

  “We shall celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas at Hampton Court,” she told her ladies. “I do love Hampton Court! Nyssa, come and play cards with me. I must have a chance to win back what you won from me these past few nights.” She giggled. “Henry says I should not gamble if I cannot win at least sometimes.”

  I should have said something when she mentioned Hampton Court and the holidays, Nyssa thought, but she decided that had she voiced a request to return to Winterhaven immediately, the queen would have said no, and then they could not have asked the king without insulting her. It was better not to encourage her enmity. I must be patient, Nyssa thought. She played her cards carelessly, and allowed Cat to win back what she had previously lost, plus a bit more.

  “You must learn to play as skillfully at other games, Lady de Winter, as you played at cards this evening,” Lady Rochford said softly to Nyssa as she prepared to return to her own pavilion.

  Nyssa looked at the woman. Her dark eyes were fathomless. Her expression said nothing. “I know not what you mean, madame,” she replied. “You speak in riddles. I am not good at riddles.” She fastened her cloak about her and moved past Lady Rochford into the night. As the encampment was set up in identical fashion at each stop they had made over the progress, it was not necessary for Nyssa to be escorted. The torches outside of each pavilion gave enough light to show her the way. Moving quickly along, she was suddenly aware of footsteps behind her. As she turned to look about, two cloaked figures came up beside her, and taking her by the arms, swiftly forced her from her path into the darkness beyond the pavilions.

  “Do not scream, madame, or I shall cut your throat,” a voice warned her.

  Scream? How could she? Her throat seemed paralyzed by fear. Who were these men, and what did they want of her? She wore little jewelry. How bold these robbers were to accost her within the king’s own encampment.

  The pavilions had been set up tonight just beyond the ruins of an old monastery. Nyssa’s assailants half led, half dragged her into the shadow of its crumbling walls. At the very moment they stopped, the moon slipped out from behind a bank of clouds, revealing to her the faces of Tom Culpeper and Sir Cynric Vaughn. Knowing her kidnappers immediately eased Nyssa’s fear; her throat relaxed and she drew a deep breath.

  Then, yanking away from them, she hissed, “What do you mean by your behavior, sirs? How dare you accost me, and frighten me half to death!” She whirled about to return to the encampment, but cruel fingers closed about her arm and roughly yanked her back.

  “Nay, madame, we have business together, you and I,” Culpeper snarled into her face. “You have involved yourself in something that is not your concern at all. You have deeply distressed and confused a lady of our mutual acquaintance, madame. You must cease these actions. I will see that you do so.” He smiled at her, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

  “You involved yourself in something that could cost that lady her life,” Nyssa spat back. “If you truly care for her, you would not do it, but I believe you to be nothing but a selfish, opportunistic bastard, Tom Culpeper! How can you believe yourself safe? Lady Rochford knows your secret, for she foolishly encourages you both. Every day the danger grows greater, and the chances that the king will learn of your treason increases.”

  “You will not tell him!” Culpeper said fiercely.

  “I? Are you mad? I should never betray Cat, nor would I be foolish enough to destroy the king’s idyll of love. Nay, I will not tell him! Is that what this is about? You thought I would tell him of your perfidy?” She laughed harshly. “You are a fool, Master Culpeper.”

  “I do not believe you,” he told her angrily. “If the king had not wed Cat, the chances are good he would have wed you. Cat told me how her uncle, Duke Thomas, arranged for your hasty marriage to his grandson to prevent the king from choosing you over Cat. If you betray my ladylove, the king would turn to you again.”

  Nyssa shook her head. This was precisely as she had thought it would be. “Tom Culpeper, listen to me, and try to understand what I say to you. I never wanted to marry the king. Never! My marriage was forced, but I love Varian de Winter, and I love the children I have borne him. I may even be with child again by my husband,” she lied. “I think Cat wrong to behave as she does. I think you are wrong to behave as you do, but I will not be the one to expose your treason. My family would suffer for it. I will not do that to them just to satisfy a principle, particularly when two people most involved in this disgraceful matter have no principles. Now let me go! My husband will wonder where I am, and you do not want him coming to look for me.”

  “Perhaps you are telling me the truth,” Culpeper said slowly, “and perhaps you are not. Mayhap you say these things simply so I will release you, Nyssa de Winter. Before I do, however, I will give you a little taste of what will happen to you should you attempt to betray my ladylove and I.” He moved swiftly behind her and, linking his arms through hers, hoisted her over his back so that she was quite successfully immobilized, her feet just off the ground. “She is all yours, Sin,” he said. “Did you know, madame, that Sin lusts after you?”

  “I will scream,” Nyssa threatened them.

  “If you do, we will claim you lured us here for immoral purposes, madame,” he threatened. “Gag her, Sin, for good measure.”

  Sin Vaughn stepped forward and quickly tied a silk square about her protesting mouth. He caressed her face gently, but his eyes were cruel. Carefully, with skillful fingers, he unfastened first her cloak, which he lay aside, and then her bodice, which he fully opened. He ripped her chemise away and her breasts tumbled forth. His hands closed over the trembling flesh, and he crushed her breasts cruelly, his fingers imprinting themselves like scarlet ribbons across her skin.

  Nyssa tried to struggle, but Tom Culpeper was quite successful in keeping her pinioned and helpless. She tried to scream, b
ut the gag prevented her cries from being heard. Her attacker smiled, and holding onto one of her breasts, he bent his head and began to suckle strongly upon the other’s nipple. When he had satisfied himself, he bit down hard on the nipple. Tears of pain slid down her cheeks as he moved his head to her other breast. Both rage and fear welled up bitterly in her throat, almost choking her. She fought strongly to escape these two beasts, but she could not. Her body arched as he bit upon her other nipple.

  Sin Vaughn raised his head and stared lustfully into her eyes. “Let me have her, Tom,” he said. “I know that I promised you I would wait, but let me have her here and now! God, she inflames me with desire!”

  “Nay, you fool!” Tom Culpeper said angrily. “Cat will have my neck if I let you rape her now.”

  “A moment more then, and you can release her,” he said. Gathering her skirts up, he tucked them in her waistband and tore her silk drawers off, tossing them aside in his eagerness. Kneeling, he leaned forward, pulling her nether lips apart, his tongue seeking her out.

  Nyssa did not know how she managed to do it, but she could not allow him to perpetrate this further outrage upon her. She sagged her entire weight against Tom Culpeper, and when he stiffened himself to straighten her, she brought one knee up hard. The crunching contact she made with Sin Vaughn’s jaw was extremely satisfying. He groaned, and collapsed on the ground at her feet. Hearing the noise, Culpeper released Nyssa. She tore the gag from her mouth, gasping for air and frantically drawing her skirts down to cover her nakedness.

  Culpeper knelt by his friend. Sin Vaughn was quite unconscious. “What the hell did you do to him, bitch?” he demanded.

  She gave him no explanation, saying instead, “If you ever come near me again, Tom Culpeper—you, or that animal lying on his back in the muck—I will tell my husband of this incident. Nay,” she told him in answer to the unspoken question in his eyes, “I will not tell him now, for he would come after you to kill you. How would we explain his anger without betraying Cat? And I will not tell Cat, for she fancies herself in love with you and would not believe me; but be warned. Stay away from me, or you will regret it!”

  “You have children, madame. Remember them, should you be tempted to any foolish behavior,” he warned her.

  “Touch my babies,” she snarled, her eyes blazing her hatred, “and I will kill you myself! If you would feel safe from me, then see Cat does not importune her husband to prevent our leaving court to go home. Remember, the king promised we could leave before Christmas.” Then she left him to attend to his fallen companion.

  Nyssa hurried back to where the faint lights of the encampment burned. With shaking fingers she fastened her bodice up. Her cloak? Oh, God! She had left her cloak behind, but she would not go back for it. Only Tillie would know it was missing, and then when the tiring woman helped her undress, she would also notice the torn chemise and her lack of drawers. Nyssa knew that Tillie would have to be told, and indeed warned about Tom Culpeper and Sir Cynric Vaughn, lest they try to reach her the next time through her maidservant. Dear heaven! Did the queen have any idea of the kind of man Culpeper was? Nyssa doubted it. All Cat could see was a handsome young lover with bonnie blue eyes.

  The progress moved southward, passing through Collyweston and Amphill, arriving at Windsor on the twenty-sixth day of October.

  Windsor Castle had been begun by William the Conqueror. Originally of earth and timber construction, it sat atop the ruins of an old Saxon hall. It had been erected to stand guard over the Thames River valley. Over the centuries, the English kings had favored it because of the good hunting in the vicinity. The wood defenses of the castle were redone in stone during the reign of Henry II. Henry III finished the stone walls and added towers. Edward III turned the castle into a magnificent residence, and there founded the Order of the Garter, which embodied the ideals of King Arthur’s Round Table.

  The original ancient chapel was tumbling down by the time Edward IV became king. He began its replacement, but it was Henry VII who saw that the nave was completed, and his son, Henry VIII, who built the choir. The king’s beloved wife, Queen Jane, was buried in the chapel at Windsor. Henry himself intended to rest there by her side eventually. The king loved Windsor, and had loved it since his boyhood. The years had seen many changes since the young, handsome prince had come to Windsor to sport himself in all manner of athletic competitions. Still, at Windsor, particularly after a long and trying progress, Henry felt young again, despite the toll that time had taken on him. Many in the court watched amazed as the king’s bed, eleven feet square, was brought into the castle. Henry himself could no longer manage the stairs easily, and used a rope and pulley system to haul himself up the steep steps.

  At the banquet their second night at Windsor, the Earl of March managed to gain the king’s ear, and asked his permission to depart for his own home with his wife.

  The king, mellow with good wine, and feeling particularly sentimental, said, “I know I promised Nyssa you might go before Christmas, but stay with us until Twelfth Night, my lord. Your wife loves to be at her beloved RiversEdge for the holidays, even as her mother did in her youth, but I realize that once I let you return, you will not come back to court again. Nyssa is a country mouse like Blaze was. It would seem that you, Varian de Winter, are every bit as much a country mouse as your wife. I could see it this summer on our progress. Your interest seemed to lie more in the species of sheep and cattle we traveled by, than in the deer we stalked.” He chuckled. “I will not insist upon your coming again, but stay with us until Twelfth Night.” Henry Tudor turned to his wife and asked, “You would like that, would you not, my precious sweetheart?” He placed a wet kiss upon her mouth.

  “Aye, my lord,” the queen said agreeably. “Please stay, cousin, and convince Nyssa not to fuss at me because I want her here awhile longer.” Catherine Howard smiled sweetly at Varian, and he could see how easily the king was taken in by her. She looked so wholesome, and seemed so loving to him.

  “Pray God she is not caught in her adultery until after we have left court,” Nyssa said to her husband when he told her of his conversation with the monarch and his wife. She knew there was no use in railing to Varian that the king had broken his promise to her. One thing was certain. Cat obviously knew nothing of her lover’s vicious attack upon her at Kettleby. Had the queen known, she would have not been so anxious for her to stay. At least Culpeper and Sin Vaughn had kept out of her way since that night. Sir Cynric had appeared the next morning sporting a rather nasty black and blue bruise about the size of a lemon just beneath his chin. He had, he claimed, fallen out of bed.

  They hunted in the New Forest for the next few days. The king was in his element. There was nothing he loved better than being ahorse, chasing a stag. Each night the banquet hall rang with merriment as the court ate, drank, and danced. The lady Anne arrived from Richmond. Although she would have dearly loved to have gone on the progress, she had remained home in order that Catherine would not have to share the limelight.

  She greeted Nyssa effusively, hugging her friend warmly. “Vas it a vunderful progress?” she demanded. “Ach! How I envy you.”

  “I would that you had been able to go in my place, dear madame,” Nyssa told her former mistress. “I should have far preferred to remain at Winterhaven with my babies. When we left, they had each sprouted two little teeth on the bottom, and two top ones were beginning to come in as well. The king will not let us go home until after Twelfth Night. I shall miss Christmas at RiversEdge again. It will be the third year in a row.” She sighed deeply.

  “One Christmas you must haf your Mama ask me to RiversEdge,” Anne said. “I am curious to experience this vunderful time you speak so happily of, Nyssa. But this year ve must content ourselves vith Christmas at Hampton Court. Last year no one knew quite vhat to do vith me. I am glad ve vill be together this year.”

  They would travel from Windsor to Hampton Court in barges upon the river. After four months on the road, everyone had spent mo
re than enough time on horseback. Barge and living assignments were arranged by the king’s household staff ahead of time so that everyone would know precisely where they were to go. To Nyssa’s surprise, they found themselves traveling with the Duke of Norfolk.

  As they entered his barge, he gave her a courtly bow and an amused smile. “I realize your antipathy toward me, madame, but I wish to visit with my grandson, and this opportunity cannot be overlooked. Besides, Hampton Court will be so crowded with courtiers that you will be forced to accept my hospitality there.”

  “After three months on the road, my lord, I should accept the devil’s own hospitality,” she said to him, knowing that he was really being very generous to them. Without him they might have ended up sleeping in a room with another couple, or separated into male and female dormitories.

  “Are you certain, madame, that I am not the devil?” He chuckled.

  “Nay, my lord, I am not,” she replied pertly.

  He laughed again, and his long face looked young again for a moment, free of all its cares. If he only knew what I know, Nyssa thought, but then he turned to speak with her husband. Nyssa settled herself comfortably back on the velvet bench with its high back, and watched the river go by. It was November first, and the day was gray and chill. Tillie and the other servants had gone overland to Hampton Court with the vehicles, leaving earlier that morning.

  Nyssa smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her orange-tawny velvet gown. She had had to dress elegantly because the king had announced that as soon as everyone reached Hampton Court, they would be expected to join him in the chapel for a service of thanksgiving for their safe return, and for his wonderful queen. He had told them this the previous evening, and the queen had beamed proudly by his side. Nyssa would have felt better if she had known that the queen had ceased her adulterous activities, but she knew that Cat had not. Lady Rochford was always hovering about her mistress, whispering words to the queen that no one else could hear, which usually brought a blush to her fair cheeks.

 

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