CHAPTER 11

THEking was ill. A difficult man when healthy, he was absolutely impossible when he was unwell. His ulcerated leg, which for the past few months had been fine, was suddenly painful again. The wound, always kept open for purposes of drainage, had suddenly closed. The leg grew inflamed and swollen. Henry Tudor ran a fever, and refused to follow his doctors” instructions once they had reopened the ulcer again.

”You need much liquid, Your Grace, to help us wash the fever away,” Dr. Butts told the king sternly. As the king”s senior physician he knew better than anyone how to handle his patient.

”Am I not drinking wine and ale aplenty?” growled the king.

”I have told you, Your Grace, that you must not drink ale, and your wine must be well watered,” the doctor replied. ”What we want you to ingest in great quantity is this herbal decoction that we have mixed with sweet Devon cider. It will ease the pain and chase the fever.”

The king wrinkled his nose. ”It tastes like piss,” he said stubbornly.

Dr. Butts mightily struggled to control his temper. The king was without a doubt the worst patient any physician could have. ”I would humbly suggest, Your Grace,” he responded sharply, ”that you overcome your childish aversion to your medication. The longer you are ill, the weaker you will become. It will be harder for you to regain your former strength. I am certain the queen would be very unhappy if your strength did not come back tenfold. You cannot fulfill your obligations to England if you do not get well.”

Dr. Butts”s meaning was crystal clear to the king. He glowered at the man, annoyed that he was so right in this matter. ”I will meditate upon your advice,” he said sullenly. How he hated being told what to do, but he had to admit that he felt like merry hell right now. He had even sent Catherine away from him. He could not allow her to see him in this sorry state. He looked so old. Every afternoon at six he would send Master Henage to his queen with loving messages and news, but he hardly wanted his beautiful young wife to see him in this disgusting condition. One good thing was coming of it, though. He could hardly eat a thing, and was rapidly losing weight.

He had been measured for a suit of armor just before his marriage last summer. He had been shocked by the measurements that had been called out. ”Waist, fifty-four inches.” That could not be right! He had made the fool armorer”s apprentice measure his waist again, only to hear, ”Waist, fifty-four inches,” repeated. ”Chest, fifty-seven inches.” It was embarrassing.

After his marriage he had embarked upon a strenuous program of physical exercise. To his delight he had begun to see his muscles beginning to emerge from the fat in which they had been encased. He was watching what he ate, and now this sickness was aiding his endeavors. He did not, however, want to lose his sexual potency with the queen. He began to drink the doctor”s disgusting potion, and to his further aggravation, he felt better almost at once.

Still, his temperament was terrible. He began to grow suspicious of the courtiers about him. They were all using him for their own gains, and his people were an ungrateful lot as well. He”d raise taxes. That would teach them! Henry Tudor thought about Thomas Cromwell. Dear, devoted old Crum. ”He was the most faithful servant that we ever had,” the king was heard to mutter darkly on more than one occasion. ”Why is he not here for me now? I will tell you why,” he shouted, and his gentlemen shifted their feet nervously. ”Because my loyal and steadfast old Crum was convicted by false accusations, and on light pretexts!”

Once again the king was blaming everyone else for his actions. He wallowed in dark self-pity, and no one could oppose him in any matter whatsoever. It had been almost ten days since he had seen his wife, and he was not yet ready to be with her.

The queen was lonely. She sat amongst her ladies embroidering her motto, beneath a crowned rose, onto a square of brocade, which when finished would be set into a silver frame and presented to the king. Catherine had taken for her motto: Non autre volonté que la sienne, which when translated into English read: ”No other wish but his.” It was dull, tedious work, and she was bored with it. She gazed about her at her ladies: Lady Margaret Douglas, the Duchess of Richmond, the Countess of Rutland, Ladies Rochford, Edgecomb, and Baynton. Same old faces. When she had been married, her uncle, the duke, had told her the women he wanted her to include in her household. They were pleasant enough ladies, but they were the same old faces. She had had to tell Henry that she wanted her father”s widow, her dull stepmother, Lady Margaret Howard; Lady Clinton, Lady Arundel, her sister, who she did not really get on with; Prince Edward”s aunt, Lady Cromwell, who was the late Queen Jane”s sister, Elizabeth, and married to Thomas Cromwell”s son; and Mistress Stonor, who had been with her cousin Anne in the Tower. She is a cheerful companion, Catherine thought ironically, grimacing. There were others, of course, but few were young, and none were fun.

When she complained, her uncle had told her sternly, ”You must remember that you are now the Queen of England, Catherine. You are a woman of property and position. Such women do not cry and whine for fun like unimportant little girls.”

God”s foot! She was bored. What good was it to be a queen when you could not have fun? She could almost wish she were not the queen; that the lady Anne was still the queen, and she just a maid of honor who could flirt with the gentlemen and have fun. Now it was the lady Anne, the king”s dear sister, who was having all the fun. Gone was the slightly dowdy lady of Cleves. In her place was an absolutely fashionable woman who danced gaily into the night, bought whatever took her fancy, and was beholden to no man. It was not fair!

Still, the lady Anne must be lonely without a man. Catherine could not imagine life without a man. In that respect she found the lady Anne odd. Not that the gentlemen did not court her predecessor, but the lady Anne, while enjoying their attentions, would favor no man in particular. Still, she did enjoy leading them on; implying much, giving nothing. Princess Elizabeth, who was with her often, clearly admired the lady Anne.

When asked why she would not remarry, she would say with a twinkle in her blue eyes, ”How could I choose another gentleman vhen I vas ved to a king like Hendrick? Who could compare vith him?” Then she would laugh merrily, and Catherine was never certain what she quite meant by her words, or why she laughed so happily.

Actually the lady Anne was a great deal more fun than any of the queen”s ladies were. She came to court on a regular basis and was quite friendly with both the king and her pretty, younger successor. The first time she had come, Catherine was very nervous. But Anne had thrown herself facedown before the royal couple, and then rising up, wished them every happiness. She actually meant it, and had also brought magnificent gifts for them both.

The king had gone to bed that day with his leg paining him, but Queen Catherine and the lady Anne had danced together into the night, much to the court”s amazement. The next day the former queen returned by special invitation to have dinner with the bride and bridegroom. They sat together laughing and toasting one another. No one had ever seen the king so genuinely affable toward Anne of Cleves. The court was goggled-eyed, which delighted both women.

At New Year”s the lady Anne had presented the king and the queen with two great magnificent horses from her own stables. Identical yearlings, they were a fine dun color, with ebony fetlocks, and were caparisoned in rich mauve velvet edged in gold fringe with golden tassels. Their bridles were of heavy silver. They were led into the hall at Hampton Court by two handsome young boy grooms garbed in mauve, gold, and silver livery. The royal couple were enchanted, but some of the court sneered at the lady Anne for a fool.

”On the contrary,” said Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, wisely. ”She is an extraordinarily clever woman, I think. The only one of the king”s wives to survive his displeasure, regain his favor, and lose nothing but a crown for her troubles.”

And fun, thought the young queen. The lady Anne is far more fun than these proper ladies of mine. Unfortunately, it would cause talk if I kept her about me all the time, but oh, how I wish I could! If only Nyssa were here. The queen sighed so deeply that her ladies looked at her.

”What is it, Your Grace?” Lady Rochford asked solicitously.

”I am bored,” the queen admitted irritably. ”There is no music or dancing because the king is ill. I have not seen my husband in almost two weeks.” She flung down her embroidery.

”There is no reason why we cannot have some music here in the privacy of your chambers, Your Grace,” the Duchess of Richmond said.

”Let us call upon pretty Tom Culpeper to come and perform for us,” Lady Edgecomb suggested. ”He has a lovely voice, and plays both the lute and the virginals quite well.”

Catherine considered the suggestion. ”Very well,” she finally agreed. ”If the king can spare him, I should like it if Master Culpeper would come to amuse us for a time.”

The queen”s page was sent to the king to ask his permission, and Henry granted his young wife”s request. He felt very guilty that she was beginning to chafe with boredom, and all because of his damned weaknesses.

”Go,” he told Tom Culpeper, who was one of his favorite gentlemen. ”And tell the queen I send her my dearest love. I will see her in just a few more days. Tell her that, Tom, and then when you return later, I would know in detail how she took the news.” He grinned almost lasciviously and chuckled. ”I know she has missed me.”

Tom Culpeper was a handsome young man in his mid-twenties. His hair was chestnut-brown and his eyes a bright blue. He was fair of skin and had a most pleasing countenance, which he did not hide behind a beard. The king was very fond of him, and consequently spoiled him badly. It was something of which Tom Culpeper took full advantage. He had come to court as a boy to seek his fortune, and it would appear as if he were finally going to be successful in his quest.

Picking up his lute, he bowed to his master, saying, ”I will bring your message to her grace. Then I will entertain her and her ladies, my liege.”

The queen”s ladies fluttered about Master Culpeper from the moment he arrived. Tall and slender, with a well-turned leg, he accepted their homage as his due. His charm, coupled with the twinkle in his eye and his easy smile, did not escape the women, most of whom were married. He amused them for two hours, singing and playing upon his lute. At one point he played his lute and sang while little Princess Elizabeth, up from Hatfield to visit her father, talented beyond her years, played upon the queen”s virginals. Bess”s fingers were gracefully long for a child of seven. Several of the ladies whispered that she had her mother”s beautiful hands.

Finally the princess was escorted off to bed and the queen dismissed her women. Culpeper lingered a moment, and when Lady Rochford made to shoo him away, he said with authority, ”I have a private message for the queen”s ears, from his grace. I should like to deliver it now.”

”Go along then, Rochford,” Catherine said, ”but stay near.”

Lady Rochford curtsied, and backing from the room, closed the door behind her. Her pinched face was curious, but she dared not listen at the door.

Tom Culpeper bowed politely to the queen. He thought how very beautiful she looked. Her gown, in the French style, was quite smart. He had always known she would shine in the proper setting.

”Scarlet velvet becomes you,” he said quietly. ”I once tried to give you some, as I recall, and not so long ago.”

”I accepted it,” Cat reminded him. ”I simply did not pay your price, Master Culpeper. It was far too high. Now, what message did his grace send to me?” Her look was imperious, but she was thinking how young and how very virile he looked right now. His hose hugged the curving calves of his long legs, and she wondered what it would be like to have those legs wrapped about her.

Tom Culpeper repeated the king”s message slowly, watching her face as he did so. She was no great beauty, but there was an enticing sensuality about her.

”You may tell his grace that I miss him greatly and will welcome his return to my bed, and company,” the queen said when Culpeper had finished speaking. ”You may go now, Master Culpeper.”

”Will you not call me Tom again, Your Grace?” he asked her. ”We are cousins, after all, through our mothers.”

”I am aware of our relationship, Master Culpeper. We are sixth cousins to be exact,” she answered him severely.

”You are adorable when you are being stern, Cat,” he said daringly. ”Does the king like your mouth? I think you have the most perfect little mouth. It looks quite succulent.”

”You are dismissed, Culpeper,” she repeated coldly, but her cheeks were pink and her heart was beating quickly.

”I am always here for you, Cat,” he told her. ”I know that it can be sometimes lonely to be the wife of an older man.” He bowed and left her presence.

What could he have meant by that? Catherine wondered. He was so handsome. Had he been flirting with her? Well, a little flirting never hurt anyone. Why could she not flirt back and still give her first loyalty to Henry? As long as no one else knew what she was doing. She giggled. Suddenly she felt happy again and she was no longer bored. The king returned to her bed two days later.

In April the queen thought that she might be with child, but either she miscarried early or it had been a false hope brought on by her natural anxiety to please the king. She wept, but the king had no time to comfort his wife. In Yorkshire a rebellion was being led by Sir John Neville, who wished to restore the more orthodox form of Catholic worship. The rebellion was fiercely put down. Henry Tudor would not have Rome meddling in his kingdom.

The king was now busy planning his summer progress to York and the northeastern counties. There was a small piece of business that he would take care of before leaving London. He would see to the execution of Margaret Pole, the Countess of Salisbury. She was an elderly woman, who had been lodged in the Tower for two years. Her father had been the Duke of Clarence, Edward IV”s brother, and she was one of the last Plantagenets. She had always been loyal to the Tudors, indeed had served as Princess Mary”s governess for many years; but her son Reginald, Cardinal Pole, had sided with the pope against the king. For this Margaret Pole would pay the ultimate price.

The queen pleaded desperately for the countess”s life. Catherine hated injustice, and her husband was not being fair in this matter, though Cat did not say that. ”She is no traitor, my lord, and she is an old woman. Let her live out her old age in peace.”

Princess Mary also pleaded for her old governess”s life. The tone she took, however, was more apt to anger the king than turn his heart and save the Countess of Salisbury. ”Her death will be on your immortal soul, my lord,” Mary told her father piously. ”Do you not have enough sins piled up already? Would you really add the unjust death of Lady Margaret to that pile? Remember the last execution you personally ordered, my liege. You have come to regret it already in less than a year”s time.” She looked at him with her Aragonese mother”s dark accusing eyes.

She is twenty-six, the king thought irritably, but she looks older. It is all that black she wears. ”Dress in a gay color the next time you appear before me,” the king said in answer to his daughter”s plea.

”I am no traitor,” the Countess of Salisbury declared when they took her to her execution.

The executioner was young and very inexperienced. He was unnerved by the fact the prisoner made him chase her about the block. Finally she was restrained. He hacked at her head, but his hands were shaking. Those who witnessed the execution later reported that he had butchered the poor old woman. It had been an awful death for a faithful servant. The court was secretly appalled by Henry Tudor”s unnecessary cruelty. In Rome, Cardinal Pole publicly declared that he would pray for the king”s black soul.

Plans for the progress proceeded in an orderly fashion now. France and the Holy Roman Empire were once again on the brink of war. They seemed to find it impossible to maintain a peace between them. Fran?ois I, the French king, told his ambassador in England, Monsieur Marillac, to offer the Duc d”Orleans, who was the king”s heir, as a husband for Princess Mary.

”What a fine idea,” the queen enthused. ”It is past time poor Mary was married. This is a perfect match! The French are as orthodox in their beliefs as are the Spanish. Mary will one day be Queen of France. Imagine! Your daughter! Queen of France!”

The young queen and Mary Tudor did not get along at all. Catherine believed that her older stepdaughter did not render her enough respect. The truth was that Mary did not. She thought her father”s wife a frivolous, silly chit. What Mary refused to face was that her father loved his wife. When the princess was rude to the queen, she would suffer for it. Already two of Mary”s maids had been removed from her household for a slight to the queen.

”I do not trust the French,” the king told his wife. ”Besides, we must keep the Holy Roman emperor as an ally if the trade links so important to us are to be kept open between England and the Low Countries. There will be no French marriage for Mary.”

”She is no longer a maid with the first blush of youth upon her,” the queen argued quite sensibly. ”If not a French prince, then who? You have turned down almost every legitimate offer from every respectable prince and potentate in all of Europe, Henry. Who is left for Mary if you do not accept this offer? How many more offers do you think you will receive for her?”

”Mary could be Queen of England one day,” Henry said bluntly. ”England will have no foreign king.”

”You have Edward!” Catherine cried.

”Only Edward,” he growled at her, ”and he is not even four. What if I were to die tomorrow? Will my son even survive to succeed me? I have no other sons, Catherine. For now Mary follows Edward.”

”I am certain that we will have children,” the queen consoled him. ”I am going to ask Nyssa de Winter when I see her how she got herself with two babies. When I learn her secret, I shall have them two at a time. Two boys, Henry! One for York, and the other for Richmond!”

He laughed. She could be so naive sometimes, but then that was the absolute charm of his rose without a thorn. She was the perfect wife for him. He had never in his entire life been so happy as he was with her. He wanted to live forever.

They departed London on the first of July. Their train was absolutely enormous. This was an important progress, unlike most summer progresses that remained in and about the Home countries. Many in the court were traveling with the king this year, unlike other years, when they returned to their own homes. There were carriages to shelter the women, although many of them preferred to ride if the weather was fair. The baggage train was huge, for it carried royal pavilions that would be set up each night to house the king and his court, as well as all the equipment necessary for the field kitchens that would feed them.

While the pavilions were being set up, the court would hunt. Wildlife, wherever the king”s train passed by, was usually decimated quite thoroughly. The game, however, was used to feed them and all their retainers. The scraps were given to the beggars who followed in the king”s wake hoping for alms, or perhaps even the king”s touch for their illnesses. The king”s touch was said to be miraculously healing.

Dunstable. Ampthill, Grafton Regis. The king”s progress moved with precision exactly on schedule. The Earl and the Countess of March were due to meet their royal master and his wife at Lincoln on the ninth of August.

Nyssa had been absolutely furious when the summons had come.

”I cannot leave my babies!” she shrieked. ”I am barely recovered from my confinement. Ohh, I just hate Cat for this! I will never forgive her! You must go, Varian, and tell them that I cannot leave the children. The king will certainly understand. He will send you home again to us. You must do this for me!”

”The queen has specifically requested your presence, sweeting,” he told her. ”Your mother is coming from RiversEdge with little Jane and Annie to look after Edmund and Sabrina. We have two wet nurses, and the twins will survive nicely. They will not even know we are gone.”

”I don”t want to go back to court,” Nyssa said mutinously.

”We have no choice,” he told her patiently, but the truth was he did not want to go either.

”My milk will dry up. I have only had two wet nurses in the event that I became ill, Varian, and could not nurse our babies myself. Susan has helped me greatly, but Alice has a child of her own.”

”A child who is ready to be weaned,” the earl said.

”You want to go!” she accused him.

”Nay, but I know there is nothing we can do that will prevent Catherine from importuning the king to bring us back. So, we will go, and we will bore them all to death with stories of how wonderful our twins are and how marvelous country life is. They will soon grow tired of us. We will never be asked back to court again. I suspect we will be home by Martinmas.”

”I pray you are correct,” she told him. ”I love nursing the twins. I will not be able to do it again once we leave Winterhaven.”

There was so much to be done in order to join the court on a progress. Tillie was quite excited about it despite all the work that would be involved for her. Her mistress would need several hunting costumes, riding costumes, and gowns for the elegant entertainments that would be held in the evenings. It would be hard to keep everything clean and pressed. This would be far more difficult than just being at Greenwich, or Hampton Court. There would have to be a coach for their comfort, and a baggage cart for the clothing, as well as another baggage cart containing a small private pavilion, bedding, and cooking utensils. They would have to travel with a change of coach horses, and Lord and Lady de Winter would need at least three horses apiece for riding and hunting. Tillie would have an assistant, Patience. One of the undercooks from Winterhaven”s kitchens, William, as well as Bob, a groomsman, would also travel with them. They would have to share quarters with Toby. It was a great undertaking to travel with the court in progress.

Nyssa”s mother arrived several days before their departure, alone. ”Your father does not like me being away for so long at this time of year,” she said. ”I have to agree with him, my child. There is soap to be made, fruit and conserves to be put up, fruit to be dried, ale and cider that will need to be brewed. There is no one at RiversEdge who can oversee these things for me if I am here at Winterhaven. It is also difficult for your sisters to be uprooted. I am going to take Edmund and Sabrina along with their wet nurses back home with me. They will be perfectly safe, and they are too young to be disturbed by a change of residence. The weather is fine, and the journey is but a short duration.”

”With your permission, my lord?” Nyssa questioned her husband. ”Mama is really quite correct. It is too great a hardship for her to be here when she can manage quite as well at RiversEdge. I know she will share the bounty of her harvest with us this winter since I will not be here to oversee my own household.”

”I think young Mistress Browning is quite capable of doing some of your work,” Blaze told her daughter. ”You are very fortunate to have her. I will stay the night and instruct her myself. That will give Susan and Alice time to prepare my grandchildren and themselves for the journey. Jane, Annie, and Henry are quite anxious to have their niece and nephew come to visit for a time.”

”It is obvious that you have everything well in hand, madame,” Varian de Winter told her. ”I think your plan an excellent one.”

”Then it is settled,” the Countess of Langford said, pleased.

Nyssa had to steel herself not to create a scene the next afternoon when her mother departed with her children. The twins were five months old this day, and they had, their doting mother thought, grown more beautiful with each passing month. Both now had headfuls of dark hair like their father. It was lustrous and raven-black. Edmund had his mother”s violet-blue eyes, but Sabrina”s eyes were already turning the dark green of her father”s. The twins had very individual personalities, but they were both strong-willed.

Nyssa managed to hold back her tears as she kissed her babies farewell. Her mother could see how very hard it was for her.

”Now,” Blaze said, ”you know how I felt when I left you to go to court after your father died.”

”Aye,” Nyssa sniffled. ”Oh, keep them safe, Mama! We will come home as quickly as we can. If Queen Catherine had a child of her own, she would surely understand how I feel!”

Varian did not bother to explain to his wife that queens did not raise their children. Queens birthed heirs to the throne, and having done so, their job was considered over. Royal children were raised for the most part by favored nobility and servants. He put his arm about his wife as the Countess of Langford”s coach departed and Nyssa began to weep openly. There was, he knew, nothing he could say to comfort her. She would have to be sad for a day or two before her equilibrium righted itself.

Two days later, when they left Winterhaven in the coach, she asked him, ”Do you really think the king will let us come home again soon?”

”We are not important,” he said. ”It is only because the queen wants us that he has summoned us at all. Between us we will convince Cat to send us home, but we will have to spend some time with her first before she grows bored with us. Then, if she still cannot be reasoned with, I will speak to my grandfather. He will make her behave herself.” His eyes twinkled, for Nyssa looked rebellious at his suggestion. He knew that she absolutely hated the idea that she would have to ask Duke Thomas for anything. He could not help but chuckle.

”I will find a way to persuade the queen to let us leave court,” Nyssa said. ”I will not ask that man for anything!”

”Are you not happy with me, sweeting?” he asked her. ”Do we not really have my grandfather to thank for our happiness?”

”You said yourself that your grandfather cared not what happened to me as long as I was discredited in the king”s eyes. He would have put me in a groom”s loft bed to gain his ends had you not agreed to his scheme. I would have been truly ruined!” Nyssa said furiously. No man could anger her more than the duke.

”But it did not happen. Instead it was my bed in which you were found. We wed, and now have two beautiful children. You cannot continue to hold this grudge against my grandfather, Nyssa. He is an old man with no one to love him. I pity him, sweeting. I know now that I should far rather be a de Winter, content in the country with a loving wife, than a Howard striding the halls of power.”

She would not answer him, for the truth was she could quite easily continue to hold her grudge against the powerful Duke of Norfolk. She knew she would never be able to revenge herself upon him for what he had done to her. Her husband had asked her if she were not happy. The truth was, she was happy. She loved Varian and was proud of his newfound strength and pride in his family name. She loved Winterhaven. She loved their children. But the Duke of Norfolk had, with his ambition, taken control of her life away from her, and for that she would never forgive him.

Suddenly Nyssa”s eyes grew round as she realized what she had thought. She loved her husband! She did! When had it happened? She had not been aware of any dramatic turning point in their relationship, yet she had just said to herself that she loved Varian de Winter. She could not imagine her life without him, or their children. She peeped at him from beneath her long lashes. He was so very handsome. Both Edmund and Sabrina had his long face and straight nose. Her mother had told her that love could grow, but she had thought Blaze foolish. Now she knew that her mother was right. Love could grow, particularly when a woman had such a sweet-natured, thoughtful husband as she did.

She touched his arm, and he looked down at her questioningly. ”I love you,” she whispered shyly to him, her cheeks turning pink as she said the words. The look that leapt into his eyes almost pierced her to the heart. It was a look of such joy that she was embarrassed to realize that she had caused it. She was not worthy of such love as he had for her.

His arm was about her shoulders, and now he took her hand in his, kissing the half-closed fist, even as he asked, ”And when did you come to this most important conclusion, madame?”

”Just now,” she said. ”When I was thinking about how angry your grandfather made me, I suddenly realized that I could not bear the thought of being without you, Varian. My heart is so full of you.”

He found her mouth with his, kissing her sweetly, deeply. She returned his kisses with more passion than she had ever felt. His hand slipped into her bodice, cupping a full breast, fondling it, teasing the nipple. ”I know the pain it cost you,” he murmured against her hair, ”but I am glad you ceased nursing the twins. Now these little beauties are all mine again, my love.”

”I think I am glad now too,” she told him, blushing. Her fingers fumbled with the laces on his shirt, pulling them open so that her hand could slide in and rub against his broad chest. Beneath her fingers his heartbeat a mad tattoo. She bent and kissed his chest, licking at his nipples and slipping her tongue across his flesh, down to his navel. Outside their moving coach the rain beat down.

He kissed her hard, his hand struggling to loosen his clothing. ”Come upon my lap,” he groaned to her. ”I need to be inside of you!”

”The driver!” she gasped, shocked by his boldness. ”What if he should see us?”

”The coach will not stop until we reach the inn,” he panted, pulling her atop him. ”He cannot see us.”

She positioned herself upon his lap, feeling him slide easily into her sheath. Frantically she pulled her bodice open so he might have the freedom of her breasts. Then bracing her hands upon his shoulders, she began to slowly ride him, her eyes never leaving his. It was so wonderfully wicked, Nyssa thought. Coupling with a man in a careening coach, her skirts bunched up about her milk-white thighs, his hands crushing the soft perfumed flesh of her bosom, while she moved up and down upon his shaft. She wanted it to go on forever, but their excitement was such that it was quickly over. They lay sprawled together on the seat, their breath rasping with the ferocity of their shared passion.

Finally Nyssa said to her husband, ”Did you ever do that with any other woman in a coach?”

”You should not ask a man such questions,” he said, laughing.

”You did!” she accused jealously.

”I admit to nothing,” he told her, ”and besides, if I did, it was long before we ever met and married.” Then he kissed her on the tip of her nose and began to fasten her bodice. ”When we reach the inn, we do not want to cause a scandal.”

”I think I shall ask Tillie to ride with us tomorrow,” Nyssa said sweetly. Then she smiled up at him.

”You do, and I”ll beat you,” he responded, a dangerous light in his green eyes. ”There are other games we can play to while away the tedium of travel, but I fear Tillie would be shocked.”

She pushed his hands away. ”See to your own attire, my lord,” she told him, fussing with her hair, which had come undone.

”No Tillie,” he growled, and she laughed seductively.

Suddenly everything had changed. Knowing she loved him now, Nyssa found herself growing jealous of any woman who looked upon her husband. Was this what love did to you? But she could find no fault in Varian, for his eyes were for her alone. If anything, her surprising and sudden admission of her love for him had only deepened his own feelings toward her. She found herself reveling in the love he gave her, which she had never been able to do before. She had felt guilty accepting that love when she had not been able to reciprocate it.

The journey to Lincoln became a real honeymoon for them. They were both reluctant to have it come to an end. They traveled across Worcestershire, with its rolling farmlands. There were great green fields filled with ripening corn ready for harvest, and grassy pasturelands of fat cattle. There were extensive woodlands for the maintenance of the deer; and some sheep, although the flocks were not as big or as extensive as in neighboring counties. The apple and pear orchards were near to harvest. The residents of Worcestershire made a country wine from the pears, which was called Perry. It was quite delicious, the Earl and Countess of March thought, when they were given it to drink their first night on the road. Nyssa discovered it was also far more potent than she had anticipated. Indeed she grew quite tipsy, to Varian”s amusement.

The architecture of the region was very pretty. The town and the individual houses they passed were timber-framed. Their crucks, posts, and beams were painted black and white. Only the fine manor houses and the churches were of red sandstone, which was indigenous to the area. Gardens bright with color bloomed everywhere. When Nyssa commented on how pretty it all was, her husband agreed, but then he told her that they were fortunate to be passing south of the town of Droitwich, which was a foul place by virtue of its salt industry. Droitwich had three brine springs, and four hundred furnaces in which to dry its salt. The air for miles of the town was rancid and reeked.

They traveled on to Warwickshire. They were north of the river Avon, where the land was mostly woodland with common rights for the small landholders and the landless cottagers. The more powerful landowners in the district were constantly trying to enclose the forests and usurp their tenants” rights. There was much resentment in the area, and bandits could be a danger, but they were well-protected by their own men-at-arms.

They stopped in Coventry, which was a walled town. The Reformation had cost Coventry its cathedral, and had ended the cycle of Mystery plays for which the town had been famous. The loss of this industry had lost Coventry its prestige, not to mention a great deal of commercial income, for many small shops had done quite well selling their goods to the pilgrims. The town was in decline, but it was still beautiful.

”Why are there so few farmsteads?” Nyssa asked her husband.

”The land isn”t good for farming. There are surface deposits of coal and iron, which are mined,” he told her.

They moved across Leicestershire, and Nyssa was fascinated. She had never seen a landscape like Leicestershire”s. There were virtually no trees, fewer hedgerows, and no deer to be seen at all. The fields were planted mostly in barley and pulses, although there was some wheat. They seemed to stretch on forever. Pastureland filled with cattle and black-faced sheep lined the roads for miles.

But there was much rural poverty because these lands were mainly in the hands of the nobility. The cottages showed neglect and were the poorest Nyssa had ever seen, single-room dwellings built of a mixture of clay, straw, and animal waste. Although the county produced wool, there was no cottage industry of weaving which would have brought the cottagers a better income.

They stayed a night in the town of Leicester. It was a center for the leather trade, and it was known for its excellent trade goods, cattle, and horse auctions. It was a prosperous enough town, but had not the happy air of the market towns in their native Herefordshire.

They were almost at the end of their journey as they crossed the boundaries from Leicestershire into Lincolnshire. This area”s economy was dependent upon livestock. The fleeces of Lincoln”s sheep were considered so fine that they were sold immediately upon shearing to outsiders, the prices being so high. The extensive fen and marshes produced reeds used all over England for thatching. Flax was also grown in the marshes, and woven into linen. Like Leicestershire, however, the great landowning families controlled everything in the region. The farther north one went, Nyssa realized, the more feudal everything became. The north, decimated in the time of William I for its continued rebellion, had never really recovered.

The town of Lincoln had lost its preeminence to Nottingham, but it was still a charming town, with a castle and a cathedral. The court had not arrived by the time they reached their destination, but the royal baggage carts had. The pavilions were being set up in the fields about the city. The Earl of March found the household steward who was in charge of setting everything up, and the steward directed them to a space on the very edge of the encampment.

”We have certainly not been given a prime site,” Nyssa remarked, amused. ”So much for being the queen”s friend.”

”At least we are not surrounded by a host of other pavilions, and we have a fine view of the countryside,” he said with a smile.

The earl helped his servants set up their pavilions. They were placed upon wooden platforms, a larger one for the de Winters, and the smaller one for the servants. The little pavilion was divided neatly down the center by a heavy curtain so that the men and women could preserve their privacy. The Earl of March”s pavilion was striped red and blue. His banner flew from the top of the tent pole, which would allow anyone looking for him to find him easily. Inside, fine carpets had been spread over the wooden platform. The living area and the sleeping area were divided by tapestries. There were braziers for heating the pavilion, for though this was August, they were in the north.

The living area contained a table for eating and several chairs. The sleeping area had a bed which was actually a large leather hammock fastened to four stout pegs set upon a rug-covered platform, with a feather bed atop it. The chests containing their personal effects were placed about. There were footed bronze candelabra and several glass lamps hanging from the ceilings for lighting. Outside the pavilion a small campfire was set up. These preparations would be repeated each time the royal progress moved on; sometimes every day, and sometimes every few days.

The servants drew water from the nearby river and heated it over the fire so that their master and mistress might bathe before the royal party arrived. Nyssa and Varian washed themselves in a small wooden tub, sharing the bathwater and toweling each other dry in the chilly air. Tillie and Toby had both been quite shocked when told that Nyssa and Varian would bathe each other.

”What is the world coming to, I should like to know?” Tillie huffed, annoyed. ”The next thing you know, there will be no need for us servants. I never thought I”d see the day when my mistress would be so immodest as to bathe her own husband!”

”I don”t like it any better than you do,” Toby agreed, ”but they ain”t going to do away with the likes of us, Tillie, old girl.”

”Tillie, come and help me dress,” Nyssa called to her tiring woman. ”I”m on the sleeping side of the pavilion. Toby is to help his lordship on the other side. Hurry now!”

”You see!” Toby grinned. ”They couldn”t do without us.”

The Earl and Countess of March were elegantly garbed by the time the royal progress began to arrive at the encampment. Nyssa”s gown was of deep blue velvet, its bodice sewn with silver beads and pearls. The underskirt was of silver and blue brocade. The neckline was low and square, the sleeves wide and bell-like, turned back at the lower edge. About her neck Nyssa wore two fine ropes of pearls. Her dark hair was parted in the middle and gathered in a silver caul. A single sapphire on a silver ribbon was affixed about her forehead.

The earl was garbed in an elegant costume of wine-colored velvet. His silk shirt was ruffled at both the neck and the sleeves. His stockings were striped wine and gold. His doublet was sewn with gold beads and pearls. Atop his dark head he wore a flat bonnet with ostrich tips. A heavy gold chain was about his neck.

The progress was settling into the encampment. Protocol demanded that the Earl and Countess of March wait to be summoned into the royal presence. The Duke of Norfolk arrived to greet them, looking weary and travel-stained. It was a hard progress for a man of seventy. They had not seen him since they had left court over a year ago.

”Will you be seated, my lord? Some wine, perhaps?” Nyssa was the model of a perfect hostess. Only her husband noticed her cold tone.

The duke settled himself heavily into a chair and grunted his thanks as the goblet was offered him. He drank deeply. ”You carry good wine with you,” he noted. ”How are my great-grandchildren?”

”Thriving, Grandfather,” the earl said. He thought the old man looked a trifle worn.

”They would be better if their parents did not have to trek over half the English countryside following a royal progress because of the whim of a chit of a queen,” Nyssa said sharply.

”Have you not yet beaten the high spirits out of her?” the duke said, not bothering to answer Nyssa directly, and thereby infuriating her even more. ”At least she”s a good breeder. Would God that your cousin Catherine proved as fecund.”

Nyssa opened her mouth to respond, but Varian sharply reprimanded her. ”Nyssa! Be silent, sweeting.” He turned to his grandfather. ”We heard that she had miscarried in late spring.”

”Perhaps,” the duke said gloomily. ”She is very secretive about it. She has not the wit of a flea, and loves nothing but constant pleasure, but the king adores her. So far. She can do no wrong in his eyes.”

He looked directly at Nyssa, and to her surprise, addressed her. ”I am glad you are here, madame. The queen is restless, and she is bored. That is not good. I know not why she feels this way. She has everything her heart desires, yet she complains she has not her best friend. You seem to have that distinction, although I cannot comprehend why. Try to calm her, madame. Turn her to a more reasonable behavior.”

”Cat cannot be turned if she chooses not to be,” Nyssa said quietly. ”How little you really know her, my lord; and that, I think, may prove dangerous for you both.”

”The future of the family depends upon your success,” the Duke of Norfolk told Nyssa.

”Nonsense!” she snorted. ”Besides, we are not Howards, my lord. Varian and I are de Winters. We do not seek power and riches. We were content at Winterhaven with our children. If you fall from grace, my lord, it will not affect us.”

He looked at her admiringly. ”By God I could wish that you were a Howard, madame. You look like a wild rose, but you are hard as iron.” He turned to his grandson. ”Are you happy with her? You should be. She is strong, and loyal to you. She loves you.”

”I love her,” the earl replied. ”I have from the first moment I laid eyes on her at Hampton Court. Nyssa is not of a mind to forgive you for the way in which we married, but we both owe you a debt of gratitude, Grandfather, for without realizing it, or even caring one way or the other, you brought us together. For that we will attempt to help you, will we not, sweeting?” His green eyes bore into hers.

We are one, she thought, triumphant. If she asked him to take her home now, he would. He loved her! ”We will remain, my lord,” she said quietly, ”and I will try to be a good influence upon the queen.” Her look was imperious. She was granting him a favor.

The Duke of Norfolk grinned wolfishly at both of them. If I were younger, he thought, she is just the kind of woman I would want for myself. Clever and proud. He could but imagine, with envy, the pleasure she gave his grandson in bed. She would be all fire and ice. A wild rose with sharp, sharp thorns.

”The queen would see you,” he told Nyssa. ”I will take you to her; and you, Varian, can make your presence known to the king. He is in an excellent mood today. The hunting was good for a change.”

They followed him through the encampment directly into its heart, where the magnificent cloth-of-gold and silver-striped pavilions that housed the royal couple were set up. Beneath a scarlet and gold awning cooks were busily preparing a feast for the evening meal.

”The queen is there.” The duke pointed to a slightly smaller pavilion. ”She is expecting you, madame.”

Nyssa curtsied to her husband”s grandfather, but there was nothing subservient in the movement. Her eyes met those of her husband, and she could see his mouth twitching with laughter. ”My lords,” she said, and then moved on past them into the queen”s pavilion.

Lady Rochford hurried forward. ”Hurry!” she said to Nyssa. ”She is so anxious to see you, my lady.”

The Countess of March followed Lady Rochford into the queen”s privy. Catherine Howard, gowned in the king”s favorite rose velvet, arose from her seat, and running forward, threw her arms about her friend, to the shock of her ladies.

”Nyssa! Ohh, I am so glad you are finally here. We are going to have such fun now!”

One look at Cat told Nyssa that something was very wrong. Could no one else see it? Her friend was like a lute string that was too tight and ready to break. Nyssa curtsied low, and when she arose, she smiled at Cat, saying, ”You must tell me all about being a queen, madame, and I shall tell you all about my wonderful babies.”