Chapter 11

Chapter 11

They left Greenwich Palace in midmorning in a party of four carriages. Two of the vehicles carried baggage and servants, but in the first and second coaches rode the earls of Langford and Marwood and their wives. The little convoy was escorted by close to two dozen armed riders. They swung wide, avoiding the city of London, and thereby saving themselves at least half a day's travel. They would travel together most of the way, separating only five miles from the boundaries of the estate lands, when Owen and Bliss would turn slightly west for Marwood Hall.

The Langford traveling coach was a large and comfortable one with fine padded seats of soft, well-tanned leather and real glass windows that could be raised and lowered. There was plenty of leg room for Tony, who stood six feet in height, to stretch himself. The coach was wide enough so they might sit side by side and still have room between them. The interior of the coach was padded in a like manner to the seats, and bolted into either side of the vehicle wall by the seats were small silver sconces holding two candles each.

Blaze had changed into a traveling gown of rich dark green velvet with a cloak trimmed in gray rabbit fur. The day was cool, but windless and sunny. Here and there along their route brightly colored leaves still clung to the trees. The horses moved along at an even and easy pace. Anthony had sent to RiversEdge for additional animals so the teams might be changed each day, and so that spare horses would be available should one go lame. It would be several days before they arrived at their destination, and arrangements had been already made at the best inns along the road.

They could not seem to find much conversation between them.

"You are as lovely a bride today as you were the first time, Blaze," Anthony said awkwardly.

Was it really necessary for him to remind her of Edmund? she thought, and then she realized that he had meant his words to be a compliment. He had probably remembered too late that to mention her first marriage was hurtful to her. "Thank you, my lord," she managed to reply. "You were as handsome a groom as I can ever remember seeing. Several of the ladies looked quite disconsolate."

Neither of them could think of anything else to say, and so they rode in silence as the miles faded away behind them. At last he said, "Are you warm enough, Blaze?" and she nodded in the affirmative. Silence again. Finally when he could stand it no longer he signaled his coachman to halt and said to her, "I think, with your permission, of course, madam, that I shall ride for a while."

"Of course, my lord," she agreed, and he scrambled from the coach as, behind him, she was forced to smile at his haste to escape her. At least, she considered wryly, they were not fighting. Then her amusement faded. Was this what it was going to be like for the rest of their lives? How could they build anything on the yawning emptiness of the gulf that seemed to separate them? The coach began its forward passage once more, and Blaze closed her eyes in an attempt to prevent the tears pricking at her eyelids from escaping down her cheeks.

There had been a basket of food put into the coach with them before they left Greenwich Palace, but though the hours slipped quickly by, Blaze found she was not really hungry. Neither, it seemed, was Anthony; except for a brief stop to rest the horses and relieve themselves, they took no time to eat. Shortly before the final and last light of the day faded away on the western horizon they stopped at a comfortable and welcoming inn called The Swan. She was well chilled by now, and she found the inside of the inn warm and inviting. Bliss, however, was practically pea green in color.

"She has been ill ever since this afternoon," explained Owen, looking both distressed and uncomfortable.

"I shall never live to reach Marwood Hall," Bliss pronounced dramatically.

"You are expecting a baby, Bliss, not suffering from a wasting sickness," Blaze answered her sister, and then looked to Owen. "What have you done for her?" she demanded.

"Done? What should I have done? I have been trying to comfort her these several hours past since we stopped to rest the horses," Owen said. "At one point she vomited in my new velvet cap, and I was forced to hurl it from the carriage," he finished in an aggravated tone. "It had ostrich tips."

Blaze burst into laughter at the thought of Bliss emptying the contents of her last meal at Greenwich into her husband's fine new cap. Only the outraged stares of the Earl and Countess of Marwood brought her humor to a halt. She turned to the innkeeper's wife. "Elixir of peppermint in hot water for Lady FitzHugh, please." Blaze next directed her attention to Owen. "Ride with Tony tomorrow, and Bliss shall ride with me in my coach. You meant well, but commiserating with your wife over her queasiness was the wrong thing to do. It only increased Bliss's attention to her problem, which in turn exacerbated her difficulties. She needed diversion, not sympathy, Owen, but I will care for her myself on the morrow. Now, Bliss, I shall choose a light supper for you."

"I cannot eat," moaned Bliss.

"Indeed you can, and you must for the child's sake."

The innkeeper's wife offered Bliss a goblet upon a tray, and Bliss weakly lifted it to her lips to sip delicately. "There, dearie," the innkeeper's wife said kindly. " 'Tis better now, ain't it?"

Feeling her rolling belly beginning to settle, Bliss nodded. "It is better," she admitted.

"Bring Lady FitzHugh a plate with two slices of capon, from the breast only. A small slice of ham, not fatty though. A slice of fresh bread with honey, and a small goblet of sweet wine," said Blaze.

"And for the gentlemen, m'lady?" said the innkeeper's wife, who recognized authority when she saw it.

"Capon, ham, beef, meat pies, cheese, soup, fruit, bread, ale, and wine. Whatever you have that will fill them up." Blaze smiled.

Anthony checked upon the horses, and ordered the innkeeper to see to the comfort of their escort. The two young couples ate their supper together quietly, although by meal's end Bliss was obviously quite recovered. For a while they sat by the fire roasting apples, but finally acknowledging their journey on the morrow, they departed for their rooms. Heartha had had her supper with Bliss's Betty, and was awaiting her mistress. Anthony discreetly waited outside while his bride was readied for bed.

"A fine place for a wedding night," grumbled Heartha. "Some tumbledown inn in the middle of nowhere."

Blaze said nothing. She was tired, and in no mood to argue with her tiring woman. Besides, she knew what was to come, although she doubted that her bridegroom would be happy about it.

"What's this?" Heartha looked outraged. "I put in your new pale violet nightrail, m'lady, not this plain thing! Who has been playing tricks on me?"

"I removed the violet gown, and packed it in one of the trunks," said Blaze. "It was much too flimsy to wear in a draughty inn without a fireplace to keep the room warm."

"Your husband is supposed to keep you warm," huffed Heartha, her visions of romance destroyed by the bride'e herself.

"My husband"—God, how strange that word sounded suddenly—"will want to get some rest, as we must arise early to continue our journey," Blaze replied. Freed of her gown and her petticoats, she washed herself in the little basin of warm water that Heartha had provided. Then, removing her chemise she took the plain white silk nightrail with its long sleeves and its high neck from her servant, and slipped it over her head. "Where is my nightcap?" she asked.

With an audible sniff of disapproval Heartha found the required item, and handed it to her mistress. Then, grumbling beneath her breath she sat Blaze down, and brushed out her long hair. When she had finished Blaze tied the charming little silk cap with its pink ribbons beneath her chin, and climbed into bed. "You can tell Lord Wyndham that he may enter now, Heartha, and then find your own bed. Good night," said Blaze sweetly.

Anthony Wyndham closed the door behind his wife's servant, and adjusting his eyes to the dimness of the room with its one chamberstick, he finally saw her awaiting him in their bed. "You are a most fetching sight, madam," he said, and began to strip off his own garments. Here was the only compensation he would get from this marriage, and he would wager that Henry Tudor had taught her some clever little tricks to please a man. There was at least that benefit to be had from marrying the king's mistress.

"A moment, my lord," she said, and he immediately knew that the tone of her voice boded no good.

"What is it, madam?"

"There will be no intimacy between us for the time being," she said quietly.

"Indeed?"He could feel a faint throb behind his temples just beginning. "Perhaps you will enlighten me as to why there will be no intimacy between us for the time being. Do you have your flux at this time?"

"No, my lord, I do not!" she said, unable to keep the snappishness from her voice, feeling the warmth in her cheeks.

"Then mayhap you will tell me, madam, why it is you are proposing to deny me my rights as your husband?" He crossed the room to sit down upon the bed. "Are you afraid of me, Blaze?" His voice had gentled.

"Afraid of you?" She barked a laugh. "No, my lord, I am not in the least afraid of you. Tell me, though. Am I not expected to produce an heir for you, for the Langford earldom, as quickly as possible?"

"Aye, you are!" was his blunt answer.

"Then, my lord, if you would be certain that the son I eventually bear you is yours, and not Henry Tudor's, you will restrain your passions for me for the next three months. I will have no doubts about my child's paternity, my lord. I will not have you flinging any such doubts in my face ever. There will be no uncertainty with our first child as there was with Mary Boleyn's."

"I had not thought of it," he said in a tone that surprised her in its reasonableness. "Do you think you might be carrying a royal bastard, Blaze?"

"I do not know," she said simply, thinking how easy this lie was to tell him. She had no intention of spreading her legs to satisfy his lusts, or his curiosity as to what she had learned in the king's bed. At least not this night. Not any night until there was something more than anger and suspicion between them. "I have heard it said that when in doubt over a matter such as this, it is better to wait three full months before coupling again. The women of my family have an irregular flux, and so I cannot be certain of my condition, but I would not deliberately foist a bastard, even a royal bastard, upon the Wyndhams, Tony. Whatever our differences may be, I think you know that my loyalty to the Langford earldom is unquestioned."

"Aye," he admitted, knowing even as he did so that he was also agreeing to restrain his natural desires. "Why the hell did you not wait to wed with me then, Blaze?" he demanded of her.

"You will remember, my lord, that it was the king himself who set our wedding day, not I," she said primly.

"Aye," he grumbled. "The king set our wedding day, and set it as quickly as he dared so that he might chase after Mistress Anne Boleyn. He would give no thought to our comforts, would he? Did you see the bitch catch your wedding bouquet, Blaze, and the coy smile upon her face when she did? God, the thing flew to her hand as if directed by witchcraft !"

"Poor Hal," said Blaze softly.

"Poor Hal? What of poor Tony, who must now sleep upon the cold floor in a room without a fireplace?"

Blaze could not help the giggle that escaped her. He looked so genuinely forlorn. "If you can promise me that you will keep your baser nature under strong control," she said, flipping the comforter back, "I shall keep mine under as tight a rein, my lord, and we may share this bed."

"Agreed!" he said, and immediately climbed in next to her. "Good night, madam." Turning away from her he worked his way beneath the covers.

"Good night, my lord," she returned, and blew out the chamberstick.

Within a short time she heard him breathing evenly, and the tension relaxed from her body. She snuggled down beneath the coverlet, and sighed softly. There was something so comforting about the bulk of a man's body next to one. Oh, Edmund, she thought as she had thought so many times over the last year. Why did you have to die? I liked our life together. It was simple and peaceful, and I felt safe. Most of all I felt loved. I suppose that you would approve of Tony, yet God help me there is nothing between us. I could not bear the thought of creating a child with a man for whom I have no feelings. Children should come of love between a man and a woman. Perhaps that is why I never conceived a child with the king. Oh, what shall I do, Edmund? I have but three months' grace. After that I cannot deny Tony that which is his by both God's law and the king's law. With these troubling thoughts swirling about her head Blaze finally fell into a restless sleep.

He awakened before first light, hearing the faint stirrings of the innkeeper and his staff in the taproom below, hearing the soft nickering of the horses in the stables. Gingerly he stretched his long body, easing the kinks from his limbs, turning slowly to see her sleeping beside him, her face invisible to him in the gray darkness, her body a shapeless lump beneath the coverlet. His wife. His wife, Blaze. Blaze Wyndham was his wife. He had gained his heart's desire, yet in doing so he seemed to have gained nothing at all. Quietly he slipped from the bed, and relieving himself first in the chamber pot, he quickly dressed, for the air this morning was frosty. The sky was beginning to lighten, and turning, he could now see her.

She looked so innocent and sweet in sleep. How hard it was to equate his sleeping wife with the ambitious woman who had been the king's whore. Still, even knowing it, he had wanted her for his wife. How fortunate it had been that the king was tiring of Blaze when he arrived at court to claim her, else he would have never been able to wed her. Her honey-colored hair was tousled about her face, and spread over the pillows. God, she was so fair! How could any man, even a king, tire of such loveliness?

Reaching out, he touched her shoulder, and shook her gently. "Wake up, Blaze. It is morning, and we must go soon."

She was instantly awake, and nodded silently to him.

"Shall I send Heartha to you?"

"Please, my lord, if you would."

They ate a breakfast of baked apples with clotted cream, ham, hard-boiled eggs, and a cottage loaf fresh from the oven with melted butter and plum jam. Blaze prescribed a small goblet of brown ale for her sister, and then made Bliss walk a goodly mile in the crisp morning air before she would allow her sibling to get into their coach.

"The trouble with you is that you indulge yourself too much," she gently scolded Bliss.

"But I am having a baby," Bliss protested.

"Which is a natural event in the life of a young married woman," laughed Blaze. "You have been at court so long that you have become confused as to what is natural and what is not. You have been getting sick because you eat too many rich foods. Look how you protested this morning that the eggs were but plain and hard-boiled, and not poached and covered in some thick sauce of marsala wine and cream. Simple foods are best. Surely you do not want to get fat, Bliss. If you continue as you have, you will be a plump little partridge after the child comes, and you will never be able to get back into your court finery."

"You certainly know how to threaten me," grumbled Bliss, "but you have been with child twice. I suppose you know what you are talking about."

Blaze's violet-blue eyes twinkled. "Aye, Bliss, I do. You had best heed me, else Owen's roving eye stray to a more slender female."

"Never! The rogue is so enamored of me that no woman could ever take my place," Bliss declared. "Nonetheless I shall watch my diet, as you suggest, as I do not choose to be plump." Her eyes narrowed speculatively. "Enough of me, sister. What of you? Was Tony as good a lover as the king?"

"I have no idea if Tony is a good lover," said Blaze calmly.

Bliss's mouth fell open, and she stared at her elder sister in complete surprise. "What!" Then, recovering, she demanded, "Tell me what happened ! Tell me at once!"

Well, thought Blaze, amused, Bliss will not have time to be ill today. "There is nothing mysterious or terrible. I have asked my husband to wait three months before coupling with me because I would be absolutely certain that I do not carry the king's child. Remember poor Mary Boleyn. The child came in six months after her wedding to Master William Carey, and the king would not acknowledge it formally as his own, even though he said privately that it probably was. I could hardly allow such a thing to happen to me. There'll be no bastards in the Langford earldom."

"Are you with child?" demanded Bliss shrewdly. "You are not, are you, Blaze?"

"Remember the irregular flux of the Morgan women," Blaze answered.

"Which only Delight and I seem to have," Bliss reminded her. "Why did you lie to Tony?"

"I am not of a mind to lie with Tony right now, sister. I am tired of having to spread my legs at my master's will. The king blackmailed me to it, and then when he tired of me he married me off to Tony, who thinks because he is my husband, swiving me is his natural-born right whether he cares for me or no. Would you really enjoy serving the needs of a man you did not know or like, Bliss? Be honest with yourself, would you?"

"Nay," said Bliss slowly, "I would not."

"Then have some sympathy for me, dearest. I need some time for myself, and to get to know Anthony Wyndham. I do not really know him, Bliss. Perhaps living with him will help me to put aside my anger. There should be something between us even if it is nothing more than respect and friendship. It is hard for me to go back to RiversEdge and know that Edmund is no longer there, that it is Anthony who is now my husband, and the man who will share the bed where Edmund and I once loved. Where Nyssa was created and born. Where her brother died."

Bliss nodded her head slowly. "I had not thought of those things," she said, and then, "You are a very brave woman, Blaze! I had not thought of it until now, but you are."

Blaze laughed. She could never remember Bliss having ever offered her a spontaneous compliment such as she had just given her elder sister. "I am not brave, Bliss," she said. "I simply do what I must do to survive, and I always will."

Several days later the sisters waved farewell to each other from their coaches as the vehicles turned away in different directions. Shortly afterward the Earl of Langford's carriage rolled through the villages of Wyeton and Michaelschurch and down the hill road to where RiversEdge stood.

"God's foot!" Blaze said without thinking and using the king's favorite oath. "It is good to be home again!"

Anthony could not help but smile at her. "It is good to be home," he agreed.

Lady Dorothy Wyndham flew from the house to greet them, barely waiting for Blaze to climb from the coach so she might hug her. "Oh, my dear Blaze, how good it is to have you home again! RiversEdge has not been the same without you, but oh, I understood why you left! Still, memories are not easily escaped from, especially happy ones. I know that my brother would be glad you have come home."

"As I know, Mother, that he would be equally happy to learn that Blaze has become my wife. We were married at Greenwich by Cardinal Wolsey five days ago," said Anthony quietly.

"What?" His mother was astounded.

"In the king's own royal chapel, and the bride was given away by Henry Tudor himself," Anthony finished.

Dorothy Wyndham burst into tears.

"God have mercy, Doro, are you that disappointed to have me as your daughter-in-law?" Blaze asked.

"Oh, Blaze," the good lady sobbed, "nothing could make me happier! Nothing!" she declared, and hugged the younger woman once again. "Now I know that this family shall not die out."

"Dearest Doro, there is something that you must know," Blaze began, but she was interrupted by her husband.

"Later, my angel," Tony said lightly, but she saw the warning in his eyes. "Let us go inside the house, for it is chilly outside here."

They entered into the house, and Dorothy Wyndham brought them to the Great Hall, where the fireplaces were burning brightly. Blaze's eye scanned the hall, and then lightened as she saw her daughter.

"Doro! That cannot be Nyssa!" she exclaimed.

Dorothy Wyndham nodded.

"She has grown tremendously. I cannot believe it! Oh, she looks so like her father!"

At that moment the little girl in her dark velvet skirts saw them, and detaching herself from her companion, raced directly across the Great Hall. "Papa!" she cried as, ignoring Blaze, she dashed into Anthony's arms. "Papa is home!" she said as he swept her up into his arms. "What did you bring me, Papa? What?"

"I have brought you your mother, Nyssa," said Anthony. "Is that not a fine present?"

Nyssa Wyndham turned in his arms and stared down her small aristocratic nose at Blaze. There was absolutely no recognition in the violet-blue eyes which were so like her mother's. Then she turned back to Tony, saying, "I do not like her. Send her away, Papa. I like Henriette better. I want Henriette to be my mama!"

Blaze felt as if she had been hit hard, and mutely she turned questioningly to Doro.

Her mother-in-law patted her arm. "You have been away so long, Blaze," she said by way of explanation. "Little children forget quickly. In a few days all will be well between you."

"Why does she call Anthony Papa?" Blaze asked.

"From the moment he and I came to Ashby to get you, and you were not there, Nyssa insisted upon calling him Papa. Nothing any of us said could sway her," Doro replied apologetically. "She does not remember Edmund now, and means no disrespect."

Blaze nodded.

"I want Henriette! I want Henriette!" sang Nyssa infuriatingly.

"Who is this Henriette who has usurped my position?" demanded Blaze. "Where are my daughter's nursemaids, Maisie and Polly?"

Maisie and her assistant hurried forward, bobbing curtsies. "Welcome home, m'lady," they chorused.

"Take Lady Nyssa," Blaze ordered them.

"No!" shrieked Nyssa. "No! No! No! I want, my maaaamaaaa!"

"I am your mama, Nyssa Wyndham," said Blaze, taking her child from her husband's arms.

"No! Henriette is my mama! I want Henriette!" She squirmed wildly in Blaze's arms, seeking to evade her mother's grasp.

Blaze passed the screaming child to Maisie, but Nyssa kicked out, catching the poor servant in the shoulder with her little foot, and causing the woman to howl with her hurt. Instinctively Blaze sat down, and turning her unruly child over her knee, lifted her little skirts and paddled her bottom several strokes. Nyssa roared her outrage, for she was more angry than hurt. Blaze knew now that in leaving her child she had done her a great disservice. The little girl was totally out of control, for it was obvious from the horrified faces about them that no one had ever dared to discipline Lady Nyssa Wyndham.

Before anyone might speak, Blaze made her position quite clear to them all. Setting her daughter on her feet in front of her, she said furiously, "Nyssa Catherine Wyndham, be silent!"

Surprised at the harsh tone directed at her, the little girl grew quiet, and glowered up at the pretty lady who had just spanked her. Her eyes were wet with her tears, but their angry glare was mutinous.

"Now, Nyssa Catherine Wyndham, you will listen to me. I am your mother, and I have been at court serving the king. I have come home now, and I expect you to behave properly not only to those who are your equals, but to those who serve you as well. You are to apologize to poor Maisie, whom you have injured in your bad temper. Then you are to go to your room, where you will be served bread and milk for your supper. You are to say your rosary three times, and tomorrow you will come to me and apologize for your dreadful behavior. I will then give you a final penance. Now, say ‘Yes, Mama,' and then give your good nights to your father and Grandmama Doro."

"Yes, Mama."

"Where is your curtsy, Nyssa?" Blaze said severely, and thought of her own mother.

Scowling, Nyssa curtsied to her, and then bidding Anthony and Doro lavishly affectionate good nights, she departed the Great Hall clutching at her nursemaid's hand and casting a last scornful look at her mother as they exited the room.

"I have returned just in time," said Blaze quietly.

"No one has been able to do anything with her," Doro explained, "for she has a fearful temper."

"Bliss was like that," Blaze said.

"Then," continued Doro, "Henriette arrived, and she seems to be able to control her better than anyone else. Frankly we have let her, for it is better than constantly fighting with the child. Nyssa can disrupt the entire household when she chooses."

"She will not do it ever again," said Blaze ominously. "Who, Doro, is this Henriette?"

"I am, madam." A slender and extremely sweet-faced young girl stepped forward and curtsied politely to Blaze and Anthony.

"This is Mistress Henriette Wyndham," explained Doro. "She is the only child of Richard's younger brother, Henry, whose wife was a Frenchwoman. Henriette is now orphaned, and it was her father's dying wish that she come to us for protection. She arrived from France the day after you left, Anthony."

"You are most welcome to RiversEdge, Cousin Henriette," said the earl. "I hope that you will be happy with us."

"Ohh, how could I not be happy in such a beautiful place!" exclaimed Henriette, clasping her two hands together in rapture as she beamed ingenuously at Tony. "Ohh, thank you, my lord, for taking me in! Had your mother not had such a generous heart, I do not know where I would have gone."

"I am surprised that your father did not make proper plans for you, Mademoiselle Henriette," said Blaze curiously.

"Alas!" sighed the young girl. "My papa left many debts. Had he not warned me to secrete my mother's jewelry in my skirt hem, I should not have even had the means for my servant, Cecile, and myself to travel here to England." Her amber-colored eyes grew teary. "I was forced to sell almost everything, madam, for our passage."

"Poor child!" sympathized Doro. "Then she had to buy a cart and horse in order to get here from the coast. They were three days without food when they finally arrived!" She turned to Blaze. "Henry was the younger son. Their father wanted him to go into the church, but he would not, and was disowned. Richard was nonetheless fond of him, and occasionally would hear from him. He married a Frenchwoman who was some upper servant attached to the French court. When Richard and I went to The Field of the Cloth of Gold in France with the court several years ago, we saw them. She died shortly afterward, and Henriette tells me that he died this past summer."

"It was plague," the young girl said. "The boil beneath his arm would not burst, and they always die when that happens. They would not let me bury him, but took his body away in the death cart."

"Poor child!" Doro said once again.

"How old are you, Mademoiselle Henriette?" Blaze asked.

"Seventeen, madam," came the soft reply.

"We shall have to find you a husband," said Blaze sweetly. "As you are the same age as my little sister Delight, I shall invite Delight to RiversEdge so you may have a companion," Blaze finished.

"You are so kind, madame la comtesse," replied Henriette, but her golden-amber eyes were looking to Anthony, who was now speaking with his mother.

Blaze's eyes narrowed as she studied the girl. She had a little oval face, very French in appearance. There was not the slightest evidence that she was a Wyndham. Her features were sharp, a slender nose, a narrow little mouth. Her hair was but shoulder-length, a mass of soft dark curls. She played the innocent, and yet Blaze thought there was something a little too calculated, a bit too knowing about the girl. Still, she could hardly toss a relation of her husband's, even one she suspected was not quite the innocent she claimed to be, out into a friendless world. Aye! A suitable husband, and the sooner the better!

Later, as she and Doro sat before a fireplace in the smaller family hall, her mother-in-law said, "You do not really mean to invite Delight to RiversEdge. Finding that Tony has finally married will but break her heart once more."

"Delight is seventeen, Doro. It is time that she grew up. Anthony rejected her three years ago, and yet she moons her life away dreaming that one day he will come to Ashby and carry her off on his white horse. Bliss and I have discussed it. It is time for Delight to face life as it really is, and not how she would have it. I shall send a messenger to my parents tomorrow telling them of my marriage to your son, of our new relation, and then I shall invite Delight to RiversEdge. If she can but see Tony and me as husband. and wife, then perhaps she will finally admit to herself that he is lost to her. Only then will my parents be able to find her a husband, for they have not been able to bear the thought of forcing her to some marriage or other. Delight has always been the odd one out in our little group. Although nearer in age to the twins and me, she really has no one, for we married young and went off, leaving her with nobody to talk to. Larke and Linnette are a full four years Delight's junior, and extremely clannish. Perhaps having Mademoiselle Henriette for a companion will also help to cheer her."

"You may be right," agreed Dorothy Wyndham, "and Henriette needs a friend her age. I do not like that servant of hers. There is something unwholesome about the woman, but of course I cannot send her away. She is old and she is all the poor child has left from her past."

"You are certain that she is Henry Wyndham's child?" Blaze queried.

"Aye, Henriette was with her parents at The Field of the Cloth of Gold, a little girl, only just eleven that June first. I could not forget that funny little French face. Only her hair is dark like the Wyndhams', but then her mother's hair was dark too. Henriette's mother was one of the French queen's personal serving women, some nobleman's by-blow by a shopkeeper's daughter, Henry told us. She was a quiet woman. I do not think I spoke more than twice to her. My French is not very good, and Henriette's mother spoke no English."

"Yet Henriette's English is quite good," Blaze noted. "Almost accentless, I might add."

"I commented on that when she arrived, and she told me that her father insisted that she be bilingual. I think Henry meant her for a decent marriage if he could but find the means to dower her. Her mother had some little bits of jewelry, gifts I suppose from her mistress, that the girl used to make her way here to us, but there was nothing else."

"How did Henry Wyndham live?" Blaze asked curiously.

Doro smiled. "Mostly by his wits, his charm, and his sword, Richard told me. It broke my father-in-law's heart, for he had intended that Henry be a bishop one day, but there was too much of the world in Henry, and he had no intention of giving it up. Richard's father finally disowned him in hopes of bringing him to his senses. Instead, Henry went to France."

Blaze nodded. "Well," she said, "we shall have to find someone suitable for Henriette to wed. Edmund dowered my sisters generously, and so I will certainly see that Tony dowers Henriette as well. I would see her gone as quickly as possible."

"Blaze!"Dorothy Wyndham was surprised by her daughter-in-law's hard attitude.

"Doro, I have lived at the court of Henry Tudor for almost a year. It is a very sophisticated court, and I have met all sorts of people. Mademoiselle Henriette is not quite the innocent she pretends to be. Perhaps you do not see it, for you are a good and loving lady, and certainly Tony does not see it, for he is a man, and the girl simpers and fawns on him, inflaming his masculine ego. I, however, see it. She has already exercised an influence on my daughter that I do not approve of, and so I would have her gone as quickly as possible. There is nothing wrong in that. I wish her no harm. I just wish her gone from my house."

"I cannot fault you for that, Blaze," replied Doro. "Perhaps the girl is a bit more knowledgeable than she would have us know, but mayhap she feared our rejection if we did not think her the helpless innocent. I cannot blame her for that. She really did not know us well enough to be certain. Let us give her the benefit of the doubt for poor Henry's sake."

"Very well, Doro, but at the same time let us seek for a man to marry her," said Blaze.

"What of your marriage to Tony?" asked Doro. "I did not know when Tony left for court that he intended to wed with you. I am most vexed that you married at Greenwich instead of coming home where I and your family might share in the happy event." The older woman smiled at Blaze to show her that she was not really angry, simply disappointed.

Blaze took a deep breath. "There is something that you should know, Doro," she said. "I would not feel right keeping it from you," and she went on to explain to Edmund's sister how the king, using Nyssa, had blackmailed her into his bed. How she had, nonetheless, grown fond of him, for he was really a lonely man. How, just as Henry was trying to decide how to get rid of her, for his affections were straying in the direction of Mistress Anne Boleyn, Anthony had arrived at court and explained to Henry that he had promised the dying Edmund that he would take his widow for his wife to protect both her and the children.

"So he told the king that, did he?" said Doro.

"Aye, and so the king insisted we be married, thus solving his problem, and allowing Tony to keep his promise to Edmund," finished Blaze, who had not noticed the tone of Dorothy Wyndham's voice.

"So you are married," said Doro quietly, "but do you love my son, Blaze?"

Blaze shook her head. "Do not think badly of me, Doro. I still love Edmund. I think I always will, but I would be a good and faithful wife to Tony, I swear it! I am trying very hard to overcome my rancor toward him."

Doro patted her daughter-in-law's hand. "Do not worry, my dear," she said. "You have only done what you had to do, and I know you will try to make Tony happy. He loves you."

"Oh, no, Doro, he certainly does not love me. He married me because he loved Edmund, and he promised him that he would do so. Anthony is an honorable man, but love has nothing to do with our marriage."

Dorothy Wyndham held her tongue. She knew that her son loved Blaze with all his heart. Loved her enough to tell the king that outrageous and incredible lie about a deathbed promise that she knew never existed. Yet Blaze suspected it not, and before Doro said anything to her about it, she would talk with her son. As for Tony, he did not realize that Blaze had only gone to Henry Tudor's bed in order to protect her child from being taken away. That knowledge was also not hers to impart, and so she must remain silent there also. She approved of Blaze's decision not to cohabit with her husband for three months so that when an heir was born for Langford there could be no mistaking his parentage. Three months was time enough for her son and new daughter-in-law to settle their differences, and possibly to even learn to love each other a little.

Blaze settled back into RiversEdge, and after a week it was as if she had never been gone. The household ran smoothly, and Tony spent most of his days out riding the estate lands with his bailiff, making certain that his people were settling in for the coming winter, that roofs and chimneys were in good repair, that the granary was safe from pillaging rodents. There seemed to be more deer this year than he had ever seen, and so Tony gave the head of each family belonging to his estates the right to take one deer. It was an incredible gift, and if he was thanked once, he was thanked a thousand times as he rode through his villages.

"Long life, and many sons to yer lordship," the goodwives called after him, and he grinned to himself. There was little chance of any sons, let alone many sons, until that damned three-month waiting period Blaze had ordained was over. That her decision was an intelligent and correct one did not console him.

Lady Nyssa Catherine Wyndham came to accept her mother's presence, although she was not an easy child under any circumstances. With Blaze's return, however, discipline reentered Nyssa's life. She did not like it, but she was wise enough not to show her displeasure in front of her mother, who did not hesitate to administer her an immediate sharp slap for her transgressions. Her first penance involved embroidery of a linen napkin to be used by Father Martin in the communion service. Her first efforts were met with disdain by her mother, who, ripping out the sloppy stitches, told her to do it over again. Nyssa glowered at Blaze angrily.

"Do you want me to show you how?" Blaze offered.

"Henriette showed me," came the surly reply.

"Yet you did it badly. Perhaps Henriette does not sew well. It is not easy to learn, Nyssa. I know I always had trouble. Your aunts Bliss and Blythe are ever so much better than I am, and faster too."

"They are?" Nyssa was interested.

"Aye."

"Then perhaps my aunts should show me, madam," was the child's quick reply.

She was clever, thought Blaze. Her father's daughter without a doubt. "Not this time, but if they come at Christmastime then I shall ask them. Today, however, you must learn from me, for I am here and they are not."

"Show me then . . . Mama," Nyssa said.

"Hold your needle so," Blaze said, showing her. "Good, child, now make your stitch."

"Look!" Nyssa cried excitedly. "It is much nicer than before, Mama!"

"Aye," replied Blaze. "If you do it that way, I will not have to reject your cloth when you are finished."

Dorothy Wyndham smiled as she watched the mother and daughter, their heads bent close together. Blaze was beginning to win Nyssa back to her. If only Anthony could win Blaze over as easily as she was bringing her daughter around. Their exaggerated politeness to one another was beginning to wear on her nerves. She would have even preferred that they fight. At least Blaze and Tony would have been showing some emotion toward one another, thought Doro.

Delight Morgan arrived at RiversEdge. Doro had not seen her in some time, and was startled at the beauty Delight had become. Unlike her elder sister, who was petite like their mother and other sisters, Delight was tall like her father, and slender. She had perfectly proportioned features, and an exquisitely lovely body. Though she greeted Tony warmly, she was less than cordial to her elder sibling.

"How could you marry him!" she demanded of Blaze when they were finally alone. "Knowing that I loved him, how could you do it? Is being the Countess of Langford so important to you that you had to wed your husband's heir? You don't love him! How could you? You don't even know him!"

It was no time to be gentle, Blaze realized. "I did not choose to wed him, Delight. It was an arrangement made by Tony and the king. It was Edmund's dying request that Tony marry me."

"You might have released him from Edmund's request, Blaze!"

"Why?" said Blaze cruelly. "The king was tiring of me, and 'tis custom with discarded mistresses to marry them off. I should just as soon be wed with someone I know and like, as to some stranger. Besides, Anthony does not love you, Delight."

"He had not even the time to learn to know me," the girl cried. "You saw to that! You lured him to court and stole him from me!"

"God's foot, Delight! I cannot believe that you really believe that tale, even in your secret heart of hearts. If I had wanted to lure Anthony, I should not have bothered to go up to court with Bliss and Owen. I might have stayed right here at RiversEdge and captured him even sooner. Anthony is not in love with you, Delight. He never has been, and God only knows you have tried hard enough to gain his love and his attention. He is not the man for you, sister. Admit to that fact, and get on with your life!"

"Anthony is really in love with me, Blaze. 'Tis you who had best face facts!" Delight asserted firmly. "I have come to RiversEdge to take him from you, and I will!"

"I am going to have to send her home to Ashby immediately," Blaze told Doro as she recounted her talk with her younger sister. "I had hoped seeing Anthony and me together might convince her, but she seems unable to accept anything except what she chooses to believe. I think this passion she has for Anthony has unhinged her, Doro."

"No," replied Dorothy Wyndham. "Let her stay but a bit longer, Blaze. Perhaps Henriette's company will aid her pained spirit. It might also help if you and Tony appeared a bit more loving toward one another. You are polite to each other, but despite your bond of marriage, you seem totally uninvolved with one another. Remember that Delight saw you with Edmund, and she remembers it well. If you would like, I shall speak to Tony about it too."

Blaze felt herself flushing with embarrassment, but she managed to nod. How ridiculous that her mother-in-law must speak with her husband about such a matter, but she knew that Doro was right. Delight was behaving in a stubborn and an irrational manner. She needed more convincing. She must be forced to face the truth, for despite Doro's reassurances, it was obvious to Blaze that her younger sister was tottering on the brink of madness.

It was early evening, and having overseen her household successfully, Blaze stood by the fireplace in the family hall staring into the fire. She watched as a log collapsed, sending a shower of orange sparks up the chimney. When his hand fell upon her shoulder she did not start, but turning her head, looked up at him. He smiled softly at her, and then to her surprise he bent his head, gently touching her lips with his.

"Your sister is watching," he murmured against her mouth.

"Doro spoke to you?" Why was her heart beating so quickly? she wondered.

He pressed little kisses along her upper lip. "Aye, in her motherly way she reminded me that I had never kissed you. Do you realize that, my angel? I have never kissed you until this moment."

Surely it was the warmth of the fire that made her cheeks so warm, Blaze considered as his arm slipped about her waist. "We did not kiss at our wedding, did we?" she noted.

"The king kissed you most heartily," he remembered, "but I did not. I realize that it is yet two months before we dare share a bed, my angel, but surely such pleasantries as these must not be denied us." He kissed her lightly once again.

"Tony—" she began.

He put a finger to her lips to silence her. "Blaze, you do not love me, I know it. Still, we must eventually join our bodies to produce the next generation of Wyndhams. I would not make love to a stranger. I am not a man to make love coldly and without tenderness. Perhaps you will never really forgive me my part in Edmund's death, unintentioned as it was, but do not hate me, I beg of you. I do not want our children born of hate, my angel. Can you understand that?"

She put her hand up to touch his face in a gentle gesture. "Aye, my lord, I understand, and I agree. Anthony Wyndham, I beg your pardon, for I have wronged you. You were not responsible for Edmund's death. Oh, you teased him to hunt that day, 'tis certain, but Edmund was a strong man. He went because he wanted to go, and your taunts offered him the excuse he sought to avoid his half-promise to me. As for our son, it was my anger, I am certain, that pushed his tiny body from my womb, and nothing else. I am to blame there, and not you.

"I do not promise that I will ever love you, my lord, but I will cease warring with you. Perhaps if we take the time to know one another we will find that we can love each other, if only a little bit. Surely that is better than the anger and misunderstanding that has been between us."

"And in finding each other," he answered her, "mayhap we can help little Delight to face life as it is." His beautiful light blue eyes held a warmth she had never seen before, and Blaze found it not displeasing.

"Does she still watch us?"

"Nay, my angel, she was gone after our first kiss," he said.

She felt a sudden pleasure in his words. He had kissed her for Delight's benefit, and yet he had kissed her again several times afterward because it pleased him. He had even stayed speaking quietly to her of working out their differences, and it had been for them that he had done it, not for Delight. Had she misjudged him? Had her hate blinded her to the man he really was? He was, after all, Edmund's nephew.

It was a quiet Christmas at RiversEdge. Both Bliss and Blythe preferred not to travel in their conditions, and a series of early and heavy snows had decided Lord Morgan and his family to remain at Ashby. Delight cared not, however, for she and Henriette Wyndham had become close friends.

"I do not care if I ever see Ashby again," she declared at supper on Christmas Night.

"You cannot remain here forever," Blaze reminded her. "In the spring Tony and I intend seeking candidates for Henriette's hand in marriage. She will be eighteen on June first and you will be eighteen on the seventh of June. You are both growing a bit long in the tooth to be wed. When I was your age I already had Nyssa."

"And the year after, you were the king's whore," said Delight, and Henriette giggled. "How Tony could honor Edmund's request when you had so shamefully dishonored Edmund's memory and the Wyndham name is hard for me to understand."

Blaze was too shocked to even speak, as was Doro, but Anthony Wyndham leapt to his feet, his anger all too apparent. "Go to your room, Delight!" he thundered. "You are not to be allowed out until I give my permission. How dare you speak to my wife in such a fashion, and in front of our daughter?" he demanded.

Delight jumped up sobbing. "I understand, Tony," she wept. "You were forced to the altar. I understand, and I forgive you." Then, turning, she fled the little family hall where they were gathered.

Henriette stood up, and with a curtsy to her elders she said, "I will go with her, and attempt to calm her. Pauvre Delight! Her heart is broken." She hurried after her friend while behind her Blaze and Doro looked at each other in despair.

Henriette easily caught up with Delight, and linking her arm with her friend's, she chided her, "You are a fool, Delight, to so openly quarrel with your sister. Her kindness and her patience with you make you look all the worse for your tantrums. Have I not warned you, cherie?"

"He loves me, and not her," sobbed Delight. "I cannot bear to see him unhappy. I should be the one he kisses by the fireplace! I should be the one he beds with! I should be the one who has his children! Not her! Not Blaze! Anthony is the only man I have ever loved, Henriette! Why should she have him and not I?"

"In time, chérie," murmured Henriette. "In time you will have your Anthony, and I shall help you, I promise you!"

"Why will you help me?" demanded the weeping Delight.

"Because you are my very best friend in all the world, Delight Morgan, that is why!" said Henriette with such great conviction that innocent Delight believed her, and allowed her to put her to bed.

"I shall never sleep," complained Delight.

"Yes you will, for I shall give you a special draught," said Henriette, and pulling her little purse from her waistband, she dropped a pinch of powder into a small goblet of wine, and encouraged Delight to drink it all down. Within minutes the overwrought girl was asleep.

Henriette looked down upon Delight scornfully. What a fool the girl was! The little idiot had convinced herself that Cousin Anthony had wed with his Blaze simply as a duty, yet Henriette could see that nothing was further from the truth. Anthony Wyndham was in love with his wife, and if she was not in love with him now, she would eventually be. Henriette hurried to her own room next door.

"What was all the shouting in the hall?" demanded Cecile. She spoke in French, for her English was poor.

"It was Delight, grand-mère, baiting her sister again. Cousin Anthony sent her from the hall. I have put the little silly to bed."

"Be careful, chérie! You must not call me grand-mère lest someone overhear you. As long as these English believe that I am your servant, and that I speak no English, they feel free to chatter in front of me. I can learn much for you."

Henriette hugged the elderly woman. "Do not fear, grand-mère. I gave Delight a sleeping potion to calm her, and everyone else is still in the hall." She settled herself on the bed with her skirts tucked beneath her. "They spoke again of marrying me off tonight, grand-mère. Cousin Blaze says that Delight and I are getting a bit old to find husbands, and come the spring they will find us each a mate." She laughed. "Beautiful Blaze, who is so sure of herself and her life. How I hate her! How I hate her for being married to Anthony when I had planned to wed with him myself. Is that not what Papa wanted for me, grand-mère?"

"Oui, oui," replied the old woman, "but it cannot be now, ma petite. You are fortunate that Madame Blaze was willing to keep you here, and is willing to see you dowered and wed well. She is not stupid, ma petite. She has been a powerful king's mistress after all. Be grateful she has not seen through you."

"Do you think I shall wed with some English country squire when I have been promised a nobleman all my life? I intend being Madame la Comtesse de Langford, grand-mère!"

"Zut alors, Henriette! And what of Madame Blaze?"

"She will die," said Henriette.

"And Mademoiselle Delight?"

" 'Tis she who will murder her sister, and then in remorse over her wicked deed, kill herself. Then only I shall be left, ma chère grand-mère. I shall be here to comfort my poor cousin Anthony, to oversee that little brat Nyssa, who calls him Papa, to wed with him when his mourning is over."

"And how will you get Mademoiselle Delight to do your bidding, ma petite?" demanded Cecile.

"I must move slowly, and carefully," said Henriette thoughtfully. "Delight must be driven far enough that she will not panic at the last moment and foil my plans. That would not do at all, grand-mère. Trust me. I learned much at the court of the King Fran?ois. I know just what to do."

The old Frenchwoman nodded her head as her granddaughter spoke. Her own husband had been an Italian from the court at Firenze, where he was an apothecary. He had taught both his wife and his daughter all of his knowledge of poisons and potions. It was this skill that had gained Henriette's mother her place with the French queen, who was constantly slipping love potions into her husband's wine in hopes of retaining his passion. Both Henriette's grandmother and mother had passed on their skills to her in hopes that she would one day be given a place in some important household. Henry Wyndham, however, had had other plans for his pretty little daughter.

"You will be a lady, my little Henriette," he told her over and over again as she grew up. "One day I will see that you marry a fine English lord, and then your papa can go home to live out his old age in style."

When she had just turned eleven she had gone with her parents to the meeting of the two great kings, Fran?ois and Henry, that was called The Field of the Cloth of Gold. There, by chance, her father had met his brother and his brother's wife. Henry Wyndham had not seen his family in many years, but there was no animosity between the brothers. She remembered that her uncle, Lord Richard, had given her sugarplums and a silver piece. She remembered him bemoaning his son's wifeless state.

Afterward her father said to her, "If Anthony Wyndham is not wed by the time you are old enough, then by God, I shall match you with your cousin, ma petite!"

She had never forgotten his words, and when she had arrived at RiversEdge she had been more than pleased to learn that her cousin was still without a wife. Though she was shocked when he returned two months later from Greenwich with a bride, she had hidden her deep disappointment very well. No one, not even Madame Blaze, suspected her. The coming of Delight Morgan with her stubborn passion for Anthony Wyndham was a wonderful piece of luck. She would use that silly and bitter young girl to rid her of her rival, and then she would take Anthony for her very own.

During the long winter she would play upon Delight's jealousy. Carefully. Oh, so carefully. She would rouse the innocent girl's desires and natural lust for Anthony. She would drive her gently to the very brink, and then . . . Henriette laughed.

"I shall make a most elegant comtesse, grand-mère, shall I not? Then I will go to court and surprise my old friend Mademoiselle Boleyn! She will be very surprised to see us, will she not?"

The old woman cackled. "Indeed she will, ma petite! Poor King Henry Tudor. He will not rid himself of Mistress Anne Boleyn as easily as he has rid himself of his other amours. She means to have it all, that one!"

"The king wants to fuck her, grand-mère, but I know Anne well enough to tell you that though his desires strain his codpiece to the breaking point, he will not get his royal cock into Mademoiselle Boleyn's sweet hole until he has made her his wife! She is a proud little bitch."

" 'Tis a shame that you were not so scrupulous in your behavior, ma petite , as Mademoiselle Boleyn, else your papa would not have died of those fearsome wounds he gained defending your honor. An honor that was long lost, Henriette."

"Papa would have never found out about Monsieur le Duc but that Mademoiselle d'Aumont coveted him also." She shrugged. "I did not ask him to defend me. Besides, grand-mère, you know that I love to fuck."

"Aye, child," was the answer, "but you must be careful here, else you are discovered, and your plans fail."