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CHAPTER 10

WINTERHAVENhad been built in the thirteenth century. Despite the battlements crowning its four towers, which gave it the appearance of a small castle, its interior was that of a comfortable, well-to-do manor house. It was set upon the topmost crest of a hill. A small moat surrounded it. The moat was filled with weeds, for it had been many years since it had been necessary to flood it and fortify the house. The drawbridge had long ago been dispensed with. The Earl and Countess of March clattered across a pretty stone bridge, stopping directly in front of the main entry, which was already wide open to welcome them.

The house was built of pale gray stone. Nyssa was pleased to see that someone had modernized the windows in the recent past. Ancient buildings such as this one were usually much too dark. Everything was neat, but shabby. She could see that there was a great deal of work to be done. She wondered if Varian could afford it. It was not something that they had discussed. Her father had given her husband a very generous dowry, but he had insisted that Nyssa”s house, Riverside, as well as the bulk of her inherited wealth, remain in her own hands.

”Nyssa seems fond of you, and you seem to genuinely care for her,” Anthony Wyndham had told the Earl of March thoughtfully. ”Still, I think it better for now, and perhaps for always, that my daughter retain a certain measure of her independence. Neither Nyssa nor I chose you to be her husband. When we know you better, we will reconsider the matter.”

Varian had been surprised. The idea of a woman retaining her own property was an interesting one. Not that it was a new idea; it certainly was not. But he had never expected to marry such a woman. He understood Anthony Wyndham”s position, however, and thought that had he found himself in the Earl of Langford”s position, he might very well have done the same thing to protect his daughter.

”I am not a rich man,” he told his father-in-law, ”but neither am I a poor one. Now that I am to live again on my own lands, I must decide how best to utilize those lands.”

”Have you tenants?” Lord Wyndham asked.

”Aye,” Varian answered.

”Has your estate steward been collecting the rents from your tenants? Be certain that he has, and then find out what has happened to those rents,” Anthony advised. ”If they were not turned over to you for your living, they should have been used to maintain your property. You will have to visit each farmstead and see if it is being cared for properly. If it is not, then you will have to decide whether to evict the tenant or give him an opportunity to rectify his bad habits. You have lived at court long enough to be able to tell a man”s worth. Common sense is all that you need.

”My in-laws breed horses, but once they raised sheep. If you have the means, try both. Sheep are a certainty every year, unless they get diseased and you lose the flock. That is what happened to the Morgans, but ”twas years ago. Wool is a valuable cash crop.”

He chuckled at the look on his son-in-law”s face. ”The gold and silver have to come from somewheres,” he told him practically. ”You”ve spent so much of your life at court that you”ve forgotten, indeed if you ever knew, that wealth has to have a source, Varian. You”ve lived off your grandsire”s bounty most of your life. He had to have some means to support the great family and the establishment that he has.

”Oh, he”s in debt to be certain. Mighty men like Duke Thomas forget how to be truly frugal, but here in the country we don”t live beyond our means. We cannot afford to if we”re going to pay the king”s taxes on time, see that our daughters are dowered, our sons outfitted, and our tenants fed. After all, poor Henry Tudor could not keep his magnificent court without us, and the taxes he gets from us.” The Earl of Langford chuckled broadly. ”No, indeed, he needs us.”

Varian shook his dark head. ”This will be more complicated than I had anticipated,” he said slowly.

”Go with your instincts, sir, and trust Nyssa”s,” Anthony Wyndham advised him. ”She”s been raised in the country, and has a broad streak of good, common sense. My daughter is a country woman.”

Varian remembered his father-in-law”s words as he lifted his wife from her mare. ”After RiversEdge, it must seem very old-fashioned,” he said apologetically. He had not remembered Winterhaven quite this way, quite so down-at-the-heels as it now appeared to him.

”It will be so much fun bringing it up to date,” she assured him sweetly. ”As long as the chimneys draw well, my lord, and the windows are tight, we shall be cozy for the winter. There is time for us to renovate.” Then she kissed his cheek reassuringly, and he loved her all the more.

An elderly couple hobbled through the front door, smiles wreathing their wrinkled faces. ”Welcome home, my lord, my lady,” they chorused brightly. It was obvious they were very happy to see their master and his new bride.

”This is Browning, and Mistress Browning,” Varian said to Nyssa, ”and this is the new Countess of March,” he told the old couple. ”She is the daughter of the Earl and Countess of Langford, and already carries the heir to Winterhaven. Have you assembled the other servants?”

”There are no others, my lord,” Browning told his master. ”Master Smale, the steward, says ”tis wasteful to hire servants to serve in an empty house.”

”There is a chill in the air,” Nyssa said. ”Let us go inside and discuss this, my lord.” She hurried past him, and the Brownings followed her.

Varian de Winter smiled to himself. He was impressed that his old servants immediately recognized in Nyssa the voice of authority. Bringing up the rear, he entered his house.

The Brownings led Nyssa into the Great Hall of Winterhaven. It was a cozy rectangle with two large fireplaces that were heaped high with burning logs. The room was more than comfortable. Nyssa removed her cloak, and handed it to Browning. ”You are responsible for the kitchen, I presume, Mistress Browning? The morning meal will be served after mass each day. Nothing fancy unless we have important guests. Then you and I will go over the menus together. Cereal, hard-cooked eggs, ham, bread, cheese. I like stewed fruits, particularly now.” She smiled at the elderly Mistress Browning. ”No court hours here. Dinner will be at two o”clock in the afternoon. Then a light supper around seven.”

”Yes, m”lady,” Mistress Browning said, returning the smile. ”I”ll be needing help in my kitchens now, however.”

”I will rely upon you to find it, for you know the families hereabouts. The girls you choose must be hardworking and of good character,” Nyssa told her. ”Pick as many as you need. I will see each girl myself, and determine who is fit to serve in this house. Those who are not suited to the kitchens will be considered for housework and the laundry. I am a fair woman, but know that I will tolerate neither immorality nor pertness in a servant. Now, please make my tiring woman welcome and comfortable.”

”Aye, m”lady,” Mistress Browning replied, curtseying. My goodness, she thought, her ladyship was very young to be so stern. It was clear she had been raised very well. Mistress Browning knew of RiversEdge. Its hospitality was famed, and its servants were the elite of the serving class. Her ladyship was obviously used to the very best. So much the better for Winterhaven, which had not seen a mistress in thirty years. It was going to be a new era. She could but hope she was up to it.

Varian de Winter watched proudly as his wife directed his two old retainers with a mixture of kindness and firmness. When she had finished speaking to Mistress Browning, he said to Browning, ”I will want to see Master Smale immediately.”

”I”ll fetch him myself,” Browning said. Now the fur was going to fly. Arthur Smale had been running the estate for over fifteen years. He was an honest man, but not one open to change. There would certainly be changes now that his lordship was home, unless, of course, they returned to court after the heir was born. ”My lord,” Browning ventured. ”Have you and her ladyship come home for good?” He peered anxiously at them.

”Aye, Browning, we have. You may tell everyone,” the Earl of March said with a warm smile. ”We have come home to stay. We have come home to raise a houseful of children. Does it suit you, old friend?”

”Aye, m”lord! And ”twill suit all of yer people as well,” the beaming old man told his master. ”I”ll go fetch Smale to you now, m”lord. He comes from the stables this time every day for his dinner in the kitchens. He”s not changed his schedule in all the years he”s been here as estate steward. He”s a predictable man, is Smale.”

”And I”ll get ye some nice wine and biscuits, m”lady,” Mistress Browning said, curtsying, her smile broad.

They hurried off. Nyssa looked about the hall. It was paneled. Both the paneling and the floors needed a good scrubbing and polishing. Poor old Mistress Browning was hardly up to such work. The high board and chairs were attractive, but they too needed attention. ”Are there no tapestries?” she asked her husband.

”Packed away years ago,” he replied. ”My mother did two beautiful ones that hung in here when I was a boy, but when my father died, I stored them in the attics. I knew one day I should come home, and I did not want those tapestries ruined by dust and sunlight.”

”Who on earth ever told you how to care properly for tapestries?” she wondered. ” ”Tis not a man”s province.”

”My step-grandmother, Duchess Elizabeth,” he said.

There was so much to do, Nyssa discovered in the next few weeks. Her early sickness past, she felt filled with vigor, and anxious that her new home be in order before her child was born. She sent to her mother for several older servants to train her new servants. Mistress Browning, though beloved and respected by all, was simply not up to the task. She probably never had been. Winterhaven had not been properly kept in years. Still, Nyssa diplomatically sought her opinion on a variety of matters, and the elderly housekeeper”s dignity was preserved. Her daughter-in-law, known as Young Mistress Browning, began to gradually take over the old woman”s duties, and proved quite satisfactory. The elderly housekeeper spent most of her days in the kitchens supervising the staff there, seated most comfortably in a large chair by the fire, a wooden spoon her badge of office.

To Nyssa”s surprise, much of the furniture at Winterhaven was in good order, and that which was not was easily repaired. New cushions were made for chairs, along with bed hangings and drapes. Tapestries were brought from the attics and rehung. Carpets were ordered from London.

”Only the most backward of households still put rushes on the floor,” Nyssa said. ”We must have carpets.”

”The king”s houses still have rushes sometimes,” Varian teased his wife. ”Do you think the king is old-fashioned, sweeting?”

”Aye!” she answered without hesitation. ”Besides, you were so frugal in your bachelor days, my lord, you have more than enough to cover the expense. It is a wife”s duty to spend her husband”s gold,” she teased back.

On St. Thomas”s Day a messenger arrived from the court. The day was icy, and the earl invited the king”s messenger to stay overnight. ”We will have an answer for you to carry back to his grace,” he said.

The messenger was grateful for their hospitality. He was a younger son come to court to make his fortune, but there were so many like him also at court that he knew it would take a miracle to set him above the rest. One never knew, however, where a miracle would come from, and the queen had personally asked him to deliver her message into the hands of the Earl and Countess of March. If their answer pleased the royal couple, the messenger could profit.

”We are ordered to court by Twelfth Night,” Varian told his wife in the privacy of their bedchamber, the scarlet bed hangings drawn about their oaken bedstead. ”Will you be sorry that we cannot go, sweeting?” He caressed her ripening belly, thrilled to feel the child stir restlessly beneath his gentle hand.

Nyssa shifted her body so she might elevate her shoulders a trifle more. She was beginning to feel very uncomfortable with this child. Her body was swollen like a large marrow. Even the special gowns her mother had loaned her for this time were beginning to feel tight across her breasts and her belly. ”I would hardly go to court looking like this,” she muttered irritably. ”I look like a cow about to calve. Besides, why would I prefer court to Winterhaven? Nay, my lord, this child of ours is providential. None of the king”s wives, save the Princess of Aragon, has remained his wife for long. By the time our son is born, and I have recovered from the birth, and weaned him from my breast, your cousin could easily be replaced in the king”s heart, and bed, by another pretty English rose,” Nyssa concluded.

”Not if my grandfather has anything to say about it,” the earl teased his wife. ”Remember that Duke Thomas likes power.”

”He could not prevent Anne Boleyn from losing her head,” Nyssa countered. ”He was, I am told, quick to disassociate himself from her once he saw the handwriting on the wall. He saved his own position while she sacrificed hers.” She shifted herself again.

”You are just out of sorts, sweeting, because we cannot go to RiversEdge for the Christmas festivities,” he reasoned. ”You know I am sorry about it, Nyssa, but even your mother said it would not be wise to travel now. And so I shall tell the king. Smale has already drafted the missive. He is enormously disappointed that we are not returning to court.”

”He is honest, but carries himself above his station,” Nyssa replied. ”He was his own master for too long, and believed it would always be that way. I do not think he will be able to change, Varian. Come spring you must replace him with his son. We have already sent most of the old servants to the cottages and replaced them with their younger sons and daughters and other relatives.”

”Aye,” he agreed. ”I am tired of having to explain everything I wish to do. Winterhaven is, after all, mine to do with as I please. I value Smale”s judgment, but the final decision must be mine.” He had taken his father-in-law”s advice in this and other matters. It had not failed him yet.

Early the following morning he entrusted the king”s messenger with a sealed parchment in a leather pouch that would keep it dry in the inclement weather. The messenger rode with all speed, reaching Hampton Court on Christmas Day and delivering his message personally.

”Why can they not come?” demanded the young queen Catherine of the king. ”Did you not order them to court, my lord, as you promised me?” She pouted at him prettily.

”The Earl of March begs our indulgence,” Henry Tudor said. ”His wife is with child and is advised against traveling. The baby is due in the spring. I can certainly understand his concern for her safety, my rose. I only wish that we shared the same predicament.”

”But I wanted Nyssa to come,” Catherine whined, ignoring his barb. ”I miss her!”

”Have I not given you everything that your heart desires, my adorable wife?” the king crooned at her. He reached out to draw her into his embrace.

”Nyssa is my friend,” the queen cried, pulling away. ”My only friend! What fun is all of this without a best friend to share it with, Henry?” She stamped her foot at him.

He wanted to understand, but he did not. She was Queen of England. She had everything anyone could desire at her fingertips. Why was she complaining?

”You must make her come back to court after her child is born, my lord,” the queen insisted. ”I want Nyssa with me. I need her to be with me, Henry.”

”But it will be some months before she can safely travel,” the king told her. Catherine, of course, not having yet had a child, would not understand. He attempted to explain it to her. ”She will need several weeks to recover from the birth itself. Then, as a country woman, she will want to nurse her child herself. It cannot be weaned from her breast for two or three years, Catherine. By that time, or before, she will surely be enceinte with another child. It is unlikely that you will see Nyssa de Winter in the near future, my sweet. But we will have to try all the harder to have our own children, won”t we? If you are busy with your own family, you will not have time to think of Nyssa.”

”If Nyssa cannot come to me, why can I not go to her?” the queen persisted. She did not easily relinquish what she wanted. ”Are we not planning a progress through the Midlands next summer, my lord? Could I not see her then?”

Henry Tudor sighed, and then said, ”You might be with child yourself then, Catherine, and unable to accompany me.”

Children! Children! Children! ”Twas all men ever talked about, the queen thought irritably. Her uncle, Duke Thomas, was always importuning her to have a child. Another son for England, they all begged her. And Henry could not stop nattering on about it either, even in the midst of their most intimate moments as he grunted and sweated over her body. Was she to be allowed no time to be young? To have fun? ”I want to see my friend,” she told him stubbornly, ”and I do not want to wait years to do so.”

The king took his wife upon his ample lap and began to fondle her breasts. His bride, he had discovered, had a most prodigious appetite for lovemaking. Whenever she was angry, he had but to distract her in this delightful manner. Catherine would immediately forget whatever it was that had irritated her in the first place.

”Perhaps next summer it can somehow be arranged,” he soothed her. ”The hunting is good in that area. There are several great houses that could entertain us and our court. Next summer, my rose.”

He kissed her hard, finding his own desire beginning to rise to the occasion. The Earl and Countess of March had been married but three months ahead of their king and queen. Catherine would soon begin to blossom with their own child, he was certain. He was still capable of siring a child. Why, he felt like twenty again.

ONChristmas morning Nyssa awoke dispiritedly. The day was cold, yet absolutely beautiful. Tillie seemed unduly excited as she helped her mistress to dress for mass. But of course Tillie would be excited; everyone else was, but how could she be? A year ago she had been at court awaiting the arrival of the new queen. She had missed the wonderful Christmas celebrations that her mother always held atRiversEdge, but she had managed to bear her disappointment in her excitement over being at court.

Now she was a married woman, enormous with child, in a strange house that had no customs. She wanted to go home! She wanted to be Nyssa Wyndham again. Young and free to do as she pleased. The invader within her kicked and turned itself about, reminding her sharply that those days were over forever. Several tears slipped down her cheeks.

”Why, m”lady, what is the matter?” Tillie asked her.

Nyssa shook her head. Tillie would never understand how she felt. Why should she? She was young, and free yet. ”Nothing fits,” she muttered. ”Practically everything Mama gave me is too tight now.”

”You are carrying big,” Tillie admitted. ”I”ve seen me ma the same way, and then the baby is just the littlest bit of a thing. ”Tis all the waters, m”lady. As long as he”s active, he”s healthy.”

”He is very active, Tillie,” Nyssa grumbled. ”As active as one of those tumblers one sees at the fair. I barely slept last night.”

”Just a few more weeks, m”lady,” Tillie soothed her mistress. ”Why, spring will be here before you know it,” she promised.

” ”Tis Christmas Day, Tillie,” Nyssa said gloomily. ”Spring is weeks and weeks away.” She sighed piteously.

Tillie said nothing more. Carefully she brushed her mistress”s lovely dark hair, braiding it into a single plait with a red ribbon through the strands. She helped Nyssa into a velvet breeding gown of dark green, noting the laces barely tied now. Her lady”s bosom had greatly enlarged over the last few months, and swelled quite dangerously over the edge of the bodice. The skirt was divided, and the underskirt was of silver and green brocade.

Nyssa looked at her belly straining beneath the fabric, and fell into a fit of giggles. ”I wonder if this is how a heifer would look if you dressed her up in a fine gown.” She chuckled.

”She would be the best-dressed heifer in all of England,” Tillie said, laughing, pleased to see Nyssa”s good humor restored. One never knew these days if she would laugh or cry, or shout over some little thing.

The two women joined the earl in the chapel of Winterhaven for the morning mass. Nyssa grew weepy again. They were all alone, just the two of them. She wondered why she had even bothered to decorate the Great Hall with greens and candles. Who would appreciate them? There was no one. She sniffled softly.

When the mass ended, Varian de Winter took his wife”s hand. ”Let us go into the Great Hall and break our fast. Young Mistress Browning tells me that the kitchen staff have prepared a special holiday feast for us this day.” He kissed her softly. ”Happy Christmas, sweeting.”

”I am not hungry,” Nyssa said. ”I think I shall return to my chamber to rest.” She looked so woebegone.

”Nay, Nyssa, you shall not,” he said adamantly. She glanced up at him, surprised. ”You shall not disappoint the servants who have worked so hard to make this day a special one for you. I am sorry you cannot be at RiversEdge, sweeting, but it would not have been safe for you to go in your condition. That is no reason, however, to mope about and spoil Christmas for the rest of us at Winterhaven.”

He had never spoken to her that way. He had always been so gentle, and so considerate of her. How could he possibly understand her feelings? He had never had the kind of family she had. But before the protest might even form upon her lips, he was leading her firmly from the chapel to the Great Hall. She could smell the pine and the bay as they approached. There was a low hum coming from the hall. What was it? She had certainly never heard that noise before. They entered the room, and she gasped with surprise, her eyes flying to his smiling face.

”Merry Christmas, Nyssa!” her family chorused as one.

Nyssa burst into tears. ”Oh!” she sobbed. ”Oh, I am so happy! Mama! Papa! Grandmama Doro! Philip! Giles! Richard! Edward! Henry! And, ohh, look at the girls. Annie and Jane have grown so since I saw them last!” She turned to her husband. ”Thank you, Varian,” was all she could manage to say before she began sobbing against his velvet-clad chest. How could she have ever believed the terrible gossip surrounding his earlier life, or his actions toward her? A man so thoughtful of his wife couldn”t be wicked or untrustworthy. How could she have ever thought it?

”She is just like her mother,” Anthony Wyndham told his son-in-law calmly. ”They weep at the drop of a bonnet, these women. Do not look so distressed, Varian. She is delighted with your little surprise.”

”Ohhh, I am!” Nyssa sobbed. ”I have never been happier in my entire life, my lord.” She reached for her handkerchief, wiping her eyes and noisily blowing her nose. ”Mama!” She and Blaze embraced.

”You are enormous,” her mother noted. ”Are you certain this baby is not due until the end of March? Perhaps I was mistaken about the dates. After all, you were married at the end of April. The child could be here sooner. Sometimes a woman”s flow does not stop right away. It is unusual, but it has been known to happen.

”I had meant to return home in just a few days” time,” Blaze continued, ”but I think now that I may remain with you until after the baby comes, Nyssa. If there were to be a bad storm and I could not get back, I should be most distressed. I shall keep Henry and the girls with me.” She looked to her son-in-law. ”Will you mind, Varian?”

”Nay, madame, you are most welcome to remain as long as you desire. Indeed I would be hard-pressed to help Nyssa when the child comes. I am glad for your company, I assure you.”

”You may not be glad for the company of these rascals,” the Countess of Langford said, a twinkle in her eyes, as she watched her twin daughters toddling with determination after one of the hounds.

The morning meal was served, and Nyssa was astounded. Entirely on their own the kitchen staff had set a menu and prepared it. There was a large country ham, pink and sweet; dishes of eggs in a sauce of cream and marsala wine, sprinkled with cinnamon. Hot wheat cereal with bits of dried apple and pear was served up in fresh trenchers of bread. Trout, poached in white wine with dill and lemon, caught the men”s fancy. There was a platter of large stewed apples floating in a mixture of hot honey, raisins, and nutmeg, with a companion pitcher of thick, clotted cream. There was a small wheel of sharp cheese, hot cottage loaves, silver dishes of newly churned butter, and pitchers of both October ale and red wine.

Outside it was still dark, for the dawn came late at this time of year and the days were short. The family trooped to the high board and, seating themselves, began to eat with enthusiasm.

”How did you get here, and when did you arrive?” Nyssa asked her parents. ”I did not hear you, and my ears are sharp.”

”Old Rumford ferried us across early this morning. The road to Winterhaven is a clear one, and the moon was high,” Anthony told her. ”We traveled easily, my dear.”

”And we arrived while you were at mass,” Blaze said, taking up the explanation. ”Our timing was quite perfect, I think.” She smiled at her daughter.

It was suddenly the best Christmas Nyssa could ever remember. She was surrounded by so many who loved her—her parents, her siblings, her husband. Aye, he really did love her, and he never wavered in his devotion to her. Yet although she cared for him more than when they had first been wed, she still did not think she loved him. It was a puzzle, but she realized she was not unhappy, and surely that was all to the good.

Her family celebrated her nineteenth birthday with her, and they stayed until after Twelfth Night. Her Morgan grandparents, her aunts, her uncles, and her cousins all came to visit during those days. When they finally had all departed but for her mother and the three youngest of her siblings, she felt relief to have her home to herself again, though she had been so happy to see everyone.

The winter set in at last with the coming of February. Varian fretted about his flocks, for the lambing was upon them, and as always in lambing season, the weather was stormy. Old Lord Morgan rode over from Ashby to advise his granddaughter”s husband, for he had once had enormous flocks of his own.

They had heard nothing of the court since the royal messenger”s visit on St. Thomas”s Day, when they had learned that the king and the queen would celebrate Christmas at Hampton Court. They had no visitors but an occasional family member. Nyssa was growing more and more short-tempered with her expanding girth. Nothing was remotely comfortable these days, neither sitting, nor standing, nor lying upon her bed.

February passed, and on the first day of March, Nyssa went into labor. ”It is too soon,” she fretted, frightened.

”From the look of you,” her mother said with a smile, ”it is none too soon. You are like a ripe peach ready to burst.”

”I am bursting,” wailed the Countess of March, ”and it hurts!”

Her mother ignored her, instead ordering that the birthing table be brought into the countess”s bedchamber and set by the fire, where it was warm. Kettles of hot water boiled over the fire. A large stack of clean cloths was prepared. The infant”s cradle was brought, along with the swaddling clothes. The nursemaid was called to ready herself for her new duties.

Outside, gray, icy sleet was flinging itself against the glass windowpanes, and the wind was beginning to rise. Blaze made her daughter walk about until finally her waters broke. Only then did the Countess of Langford allow Nyssa to get onto the birthing table.

In the Great Hall, Varian de Winter paced nervously. His father-in-law, just arrived, sat calmly by the fire, sipping at his wine and chatting with his youngest son, who was playing with a puppy at his feet.

”Var, can I take puppy home with me?” little Henry Wyndham asked his brother-in-law. Henry would shortly be four. His big violet-blue eyes reminded Lord de Winter of his wife. The boy smiled up ingenuously at the man, his baby teeth like small freshwater pearls.

”Aye, ”tis yours, Hal. What will you call him?”

”Puppy,” the little boy said with perfect logic.

The two men chuckled at the child, and he grinned good-naturedly back at them.

Blaze could not believe the ease with which Nyssa was delivering her child. She remembered how she herself had labored lightly for an entire day. Then her labor had become harder and harder, until finally, just before midnight, Nyssa had been born. Nyssa, however, was having quite an easy time of it. Blaze bent to peer between her daughter”s legs, and saw that the child”s head was quite visible.

”At the next pain, I want you to bear down as hard as you can and push,” she told Nyssa. ”It will take very little to birth this child.”

The young Countess of March obeyed her mother, and as she was wracked by a hard pain, bore down, pushing with all her might. The child began to slip forth from her body. ”Ohhh, I can feel it, Mama!”

”Push again, Nyssa,” her mother ordered.

The young woman pushed, and suddenly a howl broke the virtual stillness of the room. Blaze Wyndham smiled broadly as she lifted her firstborn grandchild up and lay the wailing infant upon his mother”s body.

”You have a son,” she told her daughter, and then sought for the afterbirth. It had not yet emerged. Taking a small, sharp knife set aside for the purpose, she cut the cord and knotted it tightly in the baby”s navel. Ohh, he was a fine boy!

”Mama!” Nyssa”s voice was sharp. ”The pain is beginning again.”

” ”Tis the afterbirth,” Blaze said, disposing of it.

”No,” Nyssa told her. ”I feel the same way I felt just a moment ago, when Edmund was born.”

Blaze looked down again and gasped with surprise. ”Heartha, take Lord Edmund and clean him up,” she called to her tiring woman. ”Tillie, I will want you to stand by. Your mistress is about to deliver another baby. ”Tis twins, Nyssa! Why did I not realize it before now? You come from a family known for its twin births! That is why you were so big, and that is why your babies are being born today instead of at the end of the month. Twins always come early.”

Within a brief few moments Nyssa had delivered her second child. ”What is it?” she demanded. ”Do not mix it up with Edmund. He is the heir. I do not want him to lose his birthright.”

”No fear of that,” her mother said. ”This one is a daughter. Ohh, I don”t envy the poor little queen when Henry Tudor learns you have given Varian de Winter not just one, but two children. He will be so envious.”

”Let me see her,” Nyssa demanded, and Blaze put the baby on her daughter”s chest. The infant”s eyes were open, and she appeared to focus quite clearly upon her mother. She made small noises that absolutely fascinated Nyssa.

”What will you call Edmund”s sister?” Lady Wyndham asked.

”I had not considered a daughter, but I think if it is all right with Varian, I shall call her Sabrina. Lady Sabrina Mary de Winter. What think you, Mama?”

” ”Tis a lovely name,” Blaze said, ”and now I think we had best cleanse Lady Sabrina free of her birthing blood so she may be swaddled and presented to her father, along with her brother.”

The two infants were quickly cleansed with warmed, scented oil, and then swaddled in clean clothes. Heartha held the heir to Winterhaven, and Tillie proudly cradled his sister.

”Go and introduce them to their father and grandfather while I attend to my daughter,” Blaze said, and the two servants hurried from the bedchamber while Lady Wyndham made Nyssa presentable for the husband who would surely be coming to visit her within a short time.

Slowly Tillie and Heartha made their way down the stairs and into the Great Hall.

”My lord!” said Heartha. ”You have a son.”

Varian de Winter leapt to his feet and strode toward her.

”And a daughter, my lord,” Tillie told him.

The Earl of March stopped in his tracks. ”A son and a daughter?” He looked nonplussed.

”Runs in the family,” Anthony Wyndham said matter-of-factly, coming to look at his first two grandchildren. ”Old Lady Morgan birthed four sets of twins, y”know. Two sets were girls. One was a mixed pair like these two, and the last set was boys.” He peered down at the babies. ”Which one”s the lad?” he asked the two women.

”This one here, m”lord,” Heartha said, beaming. ”Lord Edmund Anthony de Winter”s ”is name, Mistress Nyssa says.”

”Is it?” Anthony Wyndham felt a bit misty-eyed. ”Is that all right with you, my lord?” he asked his son-in-law.

Varian nodded, fascinated by the miniature of himself cradled in the tiring woman”s arms. ”Aye. I bred them, but according to Nyssa, I do not get to name them.” He looked up with a grin and then said to Tillie, ”What is my daughter to be called?”

”She”s Lady Sabrina Mary de Winter, m”lord,” Tillie replied.

”Is my wife well?” he queried her.

”Oh, aye, m”lord. My mistress is quite well. Lady Wyndham says her labor was a very easy one,” Tillie informed him.

The earl left the hall and hurried to his wife”s chamber. Nyssa was already newly bathed and in a fresh chamber robe.

”Did you see them?” she asked him impatiently as he entered. ”Are they not the most perfect and beautiful babies, my lord?”

”Sabrina is bald,” he noted, ”but,” he added, seeing his wife”s outraged look, ”she is the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen.”

”And Edmund? I have given you an heir, sir. Are you not pleased with me? What is my reward to be? When I was born, my father gave my mother a manor, and I was but one baby. What shall I have for two?”

”Nyssa! Such greed,” Blaze said, but she was laughing.

”This,” the earl said, slipping a beautiful gold chain with a large pear-shaped diamond from his doublet, ”is your reward for giving me an heir, madame. Since I was not expecting a second baby, I must beg your indulgence. What would you like?”

”I want a flock of sheep,” she said. ”I shall put aside the gold from the sale of their wool and invest it. By the time Sabrina is ready to wed one day, I shall have a fine dowry for her.”

”The lambs born this spring are yours,” he said. It was a highly practical idea, Varian thought. There would be other children, and some of them were bound to be daughters. Daughters needed fine dowries to obtain fine husbands. One day the king would die, and being related to a Howard queen would mean nothing then. Gold was the only thing that lasted. That never changed.

The babies were returned to their mother, and looking down at them, Nyssa felt a tremendous rush of love for her children. She was astounded to have two of them, amazed that they were finally a reality that she could touch, and caress. She looked at her mother. ”How can you give both equal attention, Mama? I adore them both already.”

”You cannot,” came the wise reply, ”but if you kiss one, be certain to kiss the other so neither will feel slighted. You will need a wet nurse now, my child. Twins are hard that way.”

”Not yet!” Nyssa cried. ”I have just had them. I want them to myself, Mama.” She looked at her husband and smiled.

”A wet nurse will share the burden with you, Nyssa,” her mother answered. ”These grandchildren of mine will need all the food they can get. Look how quickly Jane and Annie grew in the last year. I have had a wet nurse to share my load. I favor neither of your sisters. When they cry for food, I pick one up, and Clara picks the other one up to nurse. Sometimes I have Jane, and sometimes Annie. It matters not to your sisters as long as their little bellies are filled.”

”Listen to your mother, sweeting,” Varian told her. ”She has experience in these matters.” He took his son from Heartha and smiled down at him before handing him to Nyssa. Then Varian removed his daughter from Tillie”s arms. ”They are perfect, and I thank you, madame, for giving me such fine children. They shall be baptized in the morning. Let Anthony stand godfather for Edmund and Sabrina both.”

”Let us wait a few days, my lord, so that the rest of my family might be summoned. Anthony may stand godfather for Edmund, but I would have my brother Philip be Sabrina”s godfather.”

”And the godmothers?” he queried her.

”Aunts Bliss and Blythe, with your permission, my lord.”

He agreed. ”And the king must be notified, of course.”

She nodded. ”Aye. The sooner the better, and then perhaps Cat will realize that we cannot come back to court to play with her.”

Several days later the king, at Whitehall, received a messenger from the Earl and the Countess of March. The messenger bowed low, and given permission to speak, said, ”On the first day of March, in the year of our lord fifteen hundred and forty-one, Lady Nyssa Catherine de Winter gave birth to twin children, a son and a daughter, Your Grace. The heir to Winterhaven was baptized Edmund Anthony de Winter, and his sister will be called Sabrina Mary de Winter. Both the infants, and their mother, are well. The earl and his wife tender you their loyalty. God save good King Henry, and Queen Catherine!” He bowed again, and was dismissed.

”Twins,” Henry Tudor said, his eyes narrowing to slits. ”I would be content with one child.” He looked at his pretty wife. ”We must try harder, Catherine, my rose. Your cousin and his wife are already two up on us. It will not do, my pet.”

”Can we see them this summer on our Midlands progress?” the queen said, ignoring him. ”Will you order them to join us? She will have to have a wet nurse with two children, and so surely she can come to court for a short time, my dear lord. It would make me sooo happy to see Nyssa again. Perhaps I shall even be enceinte by then, and Nyssa could tell me all that I needed to know about babies.” She smiled sweetly at him.

”Very well,” he said, unable to resist her, and he pulled her down into his lap for a cuddle. ”Would it truly make you happy, Catherine? You know I would do anything to make you happy.”

”Aye, my darling, it would make me very happy,” she told him, and kissed his mouth, her little tongue snaking unexpectedly over his lips. ”Do you like that, my liege?” She pressed herself against him.

He fumbled with her bodice, pulling it open, handling her breasts with great familiarity. Then one of his hands slipped beneath her skirt and slid up her leg, past her thigh, and a single finger found its target. ”Do you like this?” he growled at her, his finger working faster and faster against her little jewel.

The queen twisted her body about, unfastening her husband”s codpiece loosed about his manhood, which was already well-aroused. Then seating herself upon his lap, facing him, she took him into her sheath. ”Does that please you, my lord?” she murmured against his ear, biting down hard on it. Then she began to ride him.

He slipped his hand beneath her bottom, crushing the flesh of her buttocks with his finger. ”I am going to mark you,” he said.

”Yes!” she half sobbed. ”Yes! Mark me! Make me your own, Henry Tudor.” She moved faster and faster upon him, until finally they both exploded with their mutual pleasure. ”Ahhhhhh,” she groaned as his love juices filled her. ”Ahhh, Henry!”

Perhaps they had made a child, the king thought, praying it was so. He wanted a child with this exquisite girl-wife whom he loved so very, very much. How had he gained such good fortune in his old age?

”You will not forget your promise to me, my lord?” she said sweetly. ”You will order the Earl and Countess of March to join us on our progress this summer?” She kissed his ear and then licked it.

”I will not forget, Catherine,” he told her. Ahh, the little russet-haired vixen was making him feel like a boy again! He found her mouth and became lost in their kisses.

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