CHAPTER 4

THEsixth of January dawned cold. A weak sun glittered in a mother-of-pearl sky. The wind off the Thames was biting. By six o”clock the king was awake, but he lay quietly abed for half an hour more. It was his wedding day, but he was unwilling yet to begin it. Finally realizing he had no other choice, he called for his gentlemen, and they entered, chattering and smiling, carrying his wedding garments. The king was helped from his bed. He bathed and was barbered. Then he donned the finery prepared for this charade he must participate in this day. What a waste, he thought, tears coming to his eyes. I am not so old yet that I cannot appreciate the joy of a fair maid in my bed.

The royal wedding garments were quite magnificent. There was a gown of cloth-of-gold edged in rich sable and embroidered with silver flowers. The coat was scarlet satin, every bit as richly embroidered, and was fastened with large round diamond buttons. There was a gold collar about his neck. His footwear was of red leather, in the latest style with the toe narrow and rounded. Each shoe had an ankle strap and was studded with pearls and diamonds. On each of his fingers he wore a jeweled ring.

”Your majesty looks most fine,” young Thomas Culpeper said.

The others murmured and nodded in agreement.

”Were it not to satisfy my realm,” the king snapped, ”I should not do what I must this day for any earthly thing!”

”Cromwell is a dead man,” Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk, said softly.

”Do not be too certain,” Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, whispered back. ”Old Crum is a wily fox, and may yet escape the royal wrath.”

”We will see,” the Duke of Norfolk returned, and he smiled, a thing he rarely did. It was a smile of triumph.

”What mischief are you up to, Tom?” the Duke of Suffolk asked. Charles Brandon knew that Thomas Howard was closely allied with Stephen Gardiner, the Bishop of Winchester. The bishop had supported the king in his rejection of papal authority over the English Church, but he was a strong opponent of the doctrinal changes championed by the archbishop, Thomas Cranmer, a man Cromwell supported.

”You overestimate me, Charles,” Norfolk replied, but he was still smiling. ”I am the king”s most loyal servant, and always have been.”

”If anything, I underestimate you, Tom,” Suffolk replied. ”Sometimes you frighten me. Your ambition is a fierce thing.”

”Let us get this travesty over and done with,” the king growled at his gentlemen. ”If I must marry her, then let it be done.”

The king, escorted by his nobles, moved through the palace to the Princess of Cleves”s apartments. There Anne awaited him calmly. She too had lain abed as long as she dared. When finally she was forced to arise, she had had to be coaxed to bathe her entire body in perfumed water. Despite her upbringing, which taught her that personal cleanliness was a vanity and sin of pride, she had enjoyed it.

”I vill do this every day,” she declared to her ladies. ”Vhat is da smell in da vasser, Nyssa Wyndham? It is nice.”

”It is oil of damask rose, Your Grace,” Nyssa replied.

”I like!” Anne declared, and her maids giggled. Their mirth was not directed at their new mistress, but rather, they were pleased to have made her happy. There was not one of them who did not know of the king”s displeasure. Only Anne”s lack of knowledge regarding English customs and the language protected her from deep hurt. She might not love Henry Tudor any more than he loved her, but she was a woman, and had her pride.

Her wedding garments were brought forth, and exclaimed over by all. Her gown was of cloth-of-gold. It was embroidered with flowers made of pearls. Cut in the Dutch fashion, it had the rounded skirt but no train. On her feet she wore slippers of gold kid with virtually nonexistent heels, to temper her height next to the king. Her blond hair was loose, declaring her virginity, and atop her head was a delicate gold coronet encrusted with gemstones, and golden trefoils resembling bunches of rosemary, a symbol of fertility. Mother Lowe placed a necklace of large diamonds set in gold about her mistress”s neck, and then fastened the matching belt about Anne”s slim waist. There were tears in the old woman”s eyes, and when several escaped down her brown cheek, the princess gently wiped them away with her own hand.

”If your mama could but see you, my darling,” Mother Lowe said.

”Is she all right?” Lady Browne inquired of Nyssa.

”She mourns the fact that the princess”s mother is not here to see her married to the king,” Nyssa answered. A good thing she is not, the girl thought silently to herself. A mother would see the king”s unhappiness with her daughter; but perhaps that will change.

Told that the king was awaiting her, the bride stepped from her apartments. With the Count of Overstein and the Grand Master of Cleves escorting her, she followed the king and his train of nobles to the Chapel Royal, where the archbishop waited to marry them. Anne”s face was serene, belying the fear she felt. He didn”t want her, and she didn”t want him either, yet they would marry for expediency”s sake. She felt sorry for them both.

She was given in marriage by the Count of Overstein. She understood little of what the kindly faced archbishop was saying, but when Henry Tudor grasped her hand and jammed the heavy red-gold ring onto the appropriate finger, Anne of Cleves knew without a doubt that she was finally married to England”s king. As Thomas Cranmer concluded the marriage ceremony, she painstakingly made out the words engraved upon her ring. God send me well to keep. It was all she could do not to laugh.

Now the king was grabbing at her hand and practically dragging her into his private chapel. She almost stumbled in her effort to keep up with him, and felt angry that he should so embarrass her on their wedding day. Whatever either of them might think, she was his wife. With effort she calmed herself, managing to get through the mass that followed. And afterward the bridal party was served hot spiced wine.

It was a day of unending ritual. Following the wedding ceremony, the king went to his private apartments to change clothing again. He put on a gown of tissue lined in embroidered red velvet. As soon as he had changed, a procession formed, and the bridal couple led their guests into the wedding banquet. In the afternoon the new queen departed the feast for a brief time to don fresh garments, choosing a gown with sleeves that gathered above her elbow. Her women also changed clothing, picking gowns decorated with many pretty golden chains, as was popular in the German states.

Cat Howard was filled with gratitude to Nyssa Wyndham, for she really had not the means to be a maid of honor. Her uncle, Duke Thomas, had obtained the position for her; but he was not so generous with his gold as he was with his influence. She had few gowns, and was forced to mix and match those she had, but even so, she was not as well dressed as the other girls. She and her sisters and three brothers were orphaned. What little their father had left, and it was indeed little, was reserved for her eldest brother. So as the queen”s wedding had approached, Cat Howard had despaired of how she could afford another gown, particularly one that had to be lavishly decorated with chains.

”Let me give it to you as a Twelfth Night gift, Cat,” Nyssa had said. ”My allowance is more than I can spend even after having a new dress made.” She shrugged. ”What good is gold if you cannot share it with friends?”

”Oh, I cannot let you do such a thing,” Cat Howard protested weakly, but it was obvious her heart was not in her words.

”Why not?” Nyssa inquired politely. ”Is there some rule of court etiquette that I have not been told that forbids gifts between friends? If there is, I shall defy it, for I have gifts for you all!”

The others all giggled, and Lady Browne said, ”Nyssa Wyndham is most generous, Mistress Howard. You are fortunate to have such a nice new friend. Of course you must accept the gift she offers. To do otherwise would be impolite, I fear, and Duke Thomas would be angry.”

”In that case,” Cat Howard said with a mischievous smile, ”I must accept, which I do with thanks, Nyssa Wyndham.”

Lady Browne nodded approvingly. ”Prettily done,” she said.

”I have nothing I can give you,” Cat Howard told Nyssa softly, ”but I do not forget a good turn done me, even as I do not forget a fault. Someday I will find a way to repay your kindness, for it is indeed kindness you do me. I am as poor as a church mouse, yet you have never made me feel inferior, as do the proud Bassetts. Eventually I shall have a chance to do you a good turn, Nyssa, and I will, I promise you.”

When they returned to the banquet that afternoon in their fresh gowns, the new queen and her ladies were greeted with applause. The ladies received many compliments on their costumes. There was a program of masques and pantomimes. There was dancing. With ill-concealed grace the king led the new queen out onto the floor. But to Henry”s surprise, Anne proved an excellent partner. She had learned well from her ladies. When he swung her up in the air, and she laughed down at him, he considered that perhaps she was not quite as unattractive as he had originally thought. Mayhap they could come to an arrangement.

”Nyssa?”

She turned at the sound of her name. There stood Cat Howard with . . . with . . . with him!

”This is my cousin, Varian de Winter, the Earl of March,” Cat said. ”He is without a partner. I thought perhaps you would take pity upon him. I know how you love to dance.”

His eyes were green. Dark green. Dark water-green like the river Wye when it settled in sunlit ripples in the shallows where the river rushes grew by her home.

”Madame.” He made her a most courtly bow. His face was grave.

”Sir.” She curtsied, even as a shiver rippled up her back. His voice was deep and musical. There was a mysterious quality to it. His stern, handsome face set her heart to racing.

”Oh, do dance with Varian, Nyssa,” Cat begged. Then she was gone to find her own partner.

”It is said you are not a gentleman, my lord. I am told by Lady Marlowe that to even speak with you endangers my reputation,” Nyssa said boldly, regaining her composure.

”Do you believe her?” he asked dryly. She could hear the amusement in his wonderful voice. Still, his face remained serious.

”I think that Lady Marlowe, who is my aunt”s dearest friend, is a gossip who thrives on scandal,” Nyssa answered him slowly. ”Yet within every scandal there is a grain of truth. Still, if we are in a public place, and surrounded by the entire court, I cannot quite see how you might compromise my reputation. Therefore, my lord, if indeed you are asking me to dance, I accept. To refuse you would be unthinkably rude.” She curtsied to him again.

He took her hand, and she felt the warmth of his grasp pulse through her. They joined the lively country dance already in progress. A second dance followed, but when the music had finally ceased, Nyssa”s uncle, Owen FitzHugh, was suddenly at their side.

”Nyssa, my dear, your aunt wishes to speak with you.” He took her arm in a firm grip. ”You will excuse us, my lord?”

The Earl of March bowed, a faint, sardonic smile upon his handsome face. ”Of course, my lord,” he said softly, ”if you insist.” He then turned and walked away.

”How could you!” Nyssa demanded of her uncle, stamping her foot for emphasis. ”You have embarrassed me before the entire court!”

”My darling girl, I have full faith in your ability to handle your own life, but your aunt, egged on by Adela Marlowe, has not. Save your outrage for Bliss and her bosom friend.”

”I will,” Nyssa said ominously, and pulling away from her uncle, hurried across the floor to where the two older women sat.

”Nyssa!” Bliss said before she might even speak. ”Have you not been warned about that man? Why, if Lady Marlowe had not seen him dancing with you, I can but imagine what would have happened.”

”Nothing would have happened!” Nyssa retorted. ”Little harm can be done to my reputation in a banquet hall full of people. You have embarrassed me greatly. I was introduced to the Earl of March by his cousin, Mistress Howard, one of my fellow maids. I could scarce refuse his invitation to dance under the circumstances, could I?”

”Dear sweet child,” Adela Marlowe said, ”an innocent such as you cannot possibly know the sort of man Lord de Winter is. Remember that you have been sent to court to find a suitable husband. No gentleman of good breeding will want to enter into a match with a woman of dubious repute.” She smiled in what she believed was a kindly manner, but it seemed more supercilious to the younger woman.

”Madame,” Nyssa said, her eyes dark with anger, ”how dare you presume to lecture me on morality and manners? You are my senior in years only. I outrank you both by birth and position. Were I as foolish a peahen of a creature as you seem to think me, perhaps your interference would be of some value. I am not foolish, however, and I am mortally offended that my aunt would have been so influenced by you as to forget that I am my mother”s daughter. I know well how to behave in polite society. You allude to some unsavory scandal in Lord de Winter”s past, yet you do not elaborate. As far as I am concerned, the Earl of March is a pleasant gentleman, and an excellent dancer. As for me, I am a maid of unblemished virtue. If you have anything else to say on the matter, then do so. If you have not, I will thank you to rein in your wild imagination and not interfere in my life again!”

”She must be told!” Adela Marlowe declared dramatically to Bliss. ”My conscience will not allow it otherwise.”

”What must you tell me?” Nyssa demanded, her tone almost mocking.

”This man you insist upon defending, and with so little true knowledge of his history,” the older woman said, ”this man is an admitted debaucher of innocence. He seduced a young girl, and when she found herself with child, he would not own up to his responsibilities. The poor young creature killed herself. Will you defend such a man now, my fine young lady?”

Nyssa was shocked, but worse, she felt like a total fool. Yet how could she have been aware of such a terrible thing?

Still, she was irritated at Adela Marlowe, who now looked at her with the light of righteous triumph in her eyes, a small smile of victory upon her lips. Nyssa wanted to wipe that smile from the woman”s face.

”You, madame,” she said in scathing tones, ”are the most vicious gossip I have ever encountered.” She was pleased to see the woman wither beneath her assault.

”Nyssa!” Even Bliss, noted for her temper, was astounded at her niece”s outburst. ”You must apologize to Lady Marlowe this instant!”

”Rather I think Lady Marlowe should apologize to me,” the girl snapped. ”And you also, Aunt Bliss.” Then she turned on her heel and hurried away to find her friends. Her heart was beating violently in her breast. It was not that she was enamored with Lord de Winter, for until this moment she had known virtually nothing about him. But she bitterly resented being treated like a child by her aunt and Lady Marlowe. She was seventeen now!

Adela Marlowe took several minutes to recover from her shock. She was white about the lips. ”Never in my life have I been spoken to in such a fashion,” she gasped. ”If that girl were my charge, I should beat her black and blue, and then send her home to her parents. She is totally out of control, Bliss, and will come to a bad end, mark my words!”

”Nyssa was rude, I agree, Adela, but ”twas you who encouraged me to be overprotective of her. I forgot that she is not that kind of a girl. She is intelligent, and has quickly learned the ways of the court. She knows the stakes involved, and will not allow her reputation to be ruined. Besides, she loves the new queen, and delights in serving her.”

”I suppose her large dowry will smooth over any tittle-tattle,” Adela Marlowe said nastily.

THEtime had come to put the king and queen to bed.

”Fifteen hours of night,” Henry grumbled. ”The next time I wed with an ugly woman, it shall be a midsummer”s eve wedding, on the shortest night of the year instead of a long winter”s night.”

”The next time he weds, ”murmured the Duke of Norfolk meaningfully to Cromwell.

”The night has only begun,” Cromwell answered. ”By the dawn the king may be a happier man, my lord.” He smiled with a confidence he was not truly feeling, and the duke smiled back. Norfolk”s smile was a knowing and superior one. Thomas Cromwell felt an icy premonition slither down his backbone. What was the duke up to?

The queen was divested of her wedding finery by her ladies, and the maids of honor were kept busy running to and fro fetching this item and the other. Anne was a tall, big-boned woman with slender limbs and a narrow waist. She had small pear-shaped breasts, which were entirely out of proportion for a woman of her stature. The queen”s ladies silently eyed one another and shook their heads in despair as they helped the queen into a simple white silk night shift. Still, her lovely blond hair was long and thick as they brushed it out.

Mother Lowe, the queen”s old nurse, and now comistress of the maids, said to Anne in a soft voice, using their own language, ”What will you do with this great bear you have married, child? He does not like you, as we both know—thanks to young Hans, who listens to the foolish men who ignore him because he is a boy, and chatter in his presence. Your mother, I know, has told you nothing of what transpires between a man and his wife; but I have enlightened you. Will you try to win him over, child? I am fearful for you.”

”Do not be,” Anne reassured the old woman. ”I do not know what I shall do yet. It depends upon this king, my husband. Perhaps if I give him an excuse to annul our marriage, he will think more kindly of me. If he had had an excuse to break the betrothal, to avoid the marriage ceremony today, I do believe he would have done so. He is not, I am told, a man who likes being denied his will. We are just married. He has no cause for divorce, yet he wishes to rid himself of me. If I do not give him just cause for an annulment, then he must kill me. I did not come to England, Mother Lowe, to lose my head, but rather to gain my freedom from that boring court of my brother”s.” She smiled and patted her old servant”s hand. ”Pray for me that I make the right decisions.”

The sound of revelry came from the queen”s antechamber, and then the door to her bedchamber was pushed open. All the ladies in the room curtsied as the king, in a velvet robe and nightcap, reluctantly entered, followed by his gentlemen and the archbishop. Without a word the king climbed into the bed next to the queen. Archbishop Cranmer then droned a prayer for the marriage”s success and the couple”s fertility.

When he had finished, the king growled to them, ”Get out! I want to get this over and done with. Out! All of you!”

The ladies and gentlemen of the court departed, chuckling, and casting sly looks at one another. The door closed behind them with an ominous sound.

The bride and groom sat silently side by side. Finally Henry turned and looked at his new queen. He could barely repress a shudder of distaste. It was not that she was really ugly; she wasn”t. But her features were stronger than Holbein had painted them, and she was so damned big when he compared her to Katherine, the first Anne, and his sweet Jane. Her blue eyes were intelligent, however, and they regarded him cautiously now. Best to get the thing over with. He reached out and fingered a strand of golden hair. It was soft, and somehow that pleased him. At least there was something about the woman he liked.

”You do not like me,” Anne said suddenly, her voice clear in the tense silence.

He remained silent, surprised, and curious as to what else she would say to him.

”You vould not haf ved me, but you not haf. . . haf. . . ach! I do not know the vord!” Her accent was thick, but he fully understood her words.

”Excuse,” he supplied gently.

”Ya! You not haf excuse to . . . to . . . ”

”Reject,” the king offered.

”Ya! Reject me!” she concluded triumphantly. ”If I gif you excuse, vill you let me stay here in England, Hendrick?”

He was amazed. She had been in England but eleven days, yet she was already speaking the language, a clear indication of her intellect; and, she had quickly grasped the situation with regard to his feelings. Was he making a mistake? No. He would never love this woman. He could not. Not even for England”s sweet sake.

”What excuse?” he demanded of her, his blue eyes narrowing with speculation. ”It must be foolproof, Annie. They tell me my reputation with wives is not the best, but ”tis not true. I am misunderstood.”

He had spoken very slowly, that she might at least grasp some of his words, but it seemed that his bride understood more than she could say. She laughed aloud, and he saw she had big teeth.

”I understand Hendrick vell,” she told him. ”Ve no make luf, and you haf excuse to reject me. Ya?”

It was simple and absolutely brilliant, Henry Tudor thought, and then he realized that it must be he who could not make love to her, not she who refused him. Either way, he thought, he would be embarrassed, but he would be less embarrassed if he blamed her unattractive person for the problem. She had to understand that.

”We need Hans to talk for us,” he said, ”but not tonight. In secret. Tomorrow. Yes?”

”Ya!” she nodded, and then swinging her legs off of their bed, she stood up and asked him, ”Ve play cards, Hendrick?”

Henry Tudor laughed. ”Ya!” he told her. ”We play cards, Annie.” She wasn”t the sort of woman he wanted for a wife, or for a lover, but he had a strong feeling that she was going to become a good friend.

The king was up early the following morning. They had gambled until well after midnight, and his Flanders mare had won heavily off of him. At any other time he might have been angered to be beaten so thoroughly, but his new queen had been a good companion. Gaining his own bedchamber by use of a private passage, the king greeted his gentlemen dourly. It was all part of the plan that had formed in his head the previous night. He must continue to appear dissatisfied from the very start with Anne of Cleves. He would not be believed otherwise.

Cromwell met the king on his way to mass. ”What think your grace of the queen now?” he asked low. ”I trust your night was pleasant.”

”My night was not pleasant, Crum. Not pleasant at all. I have left the queen as good a maid as I found her. I cannot for the life of me bring myself to consummate this marriage, though my dreams were of a most sensuous nature, I admit. At least twice I soiled myself with the passion of them, but I am not happy, Crum.”

”Perhaps your grace was tired with all the pomp and excitement,” Cromwell offered weakly. ” ”Twill be better tonight when you are better rested.”

”I am not tired!” the king snapped. ”Bring me another woman, and I could perform the act eagerly, but not this woman! She fills me with repulsion, Crum. Do you understand me?”

Cromwell understood all too well. Unable to get out of the marriage before it was formally celebrated, Henry Tudor was now going to seek another route by which to rid himself of this unwanted new wife. He had gotten the king into this situation, and he knew for certain that his very life would be forfeit unless he got the king gracefully out of it.

Cromwell”s peace of mind was shattered irretrievably when the king personally told every influential gentleman at court of his inability to perform the marriage act with the new queen. When Henry Tudor spoke with his personal physician, Dr. Butts, Cromwell found himself growing dizzy with anxiety. Across the room the Duke of Norfolk smiled.

ONthe eleventh of January a tournament was held in the new queen”s honor, although the court wondered why. Henry Tudor was making no secret of his deep dissatisfaction with his bride. Anne, on the other hand, remained charming and dignified. Her English was improving at a rapid pace, and on the day of the tournament she wore an English-made gown in the latest London style with a delightful little French hood. The common people were impressed with her, as were many at court, despite the king”s feelings, but the power brokers would have been astounded if they had known the scheme hatched by their new queen to allow the king his freedom.

The day after the wedding, the queen had called Hans to her privy chamber. The king had entered the room directly by means of a secret passage. There, an agreement had been hammered out between Henry and Anne, with young Hans acting as translator so there would be no misunderstanding between the two parties. Henry and Anne would not consummate the marriage just celebrated. Henry would blame his inability to perform with his wife on Anne”s appearance, which was unappealing to him. In return Anne would pretend everything was all right between them as far as she was concerned. There were already rumors that the alliance between the French king and the Holy Roman Emperor was deteriorating. England would shortly not need the goodwill of Cleves. When that rumor became fact, an annulment would be suggested due to the king”s inability to consummate his marriage. It would, of course, be granted.

In return, Anne of Cleves would be given two homes of her choice. Since she was new to England, she would need to visit the royal residences in order to make her decision. The king would settle a goodly allowance upon her, and she would be called his sister. Only a new queen would take precedence over her at court. She would also assure her brother that this change in her status was entirely satisfactory to her, and that she had been treated with kindness.

Both Henry Tudor and Anne of Cleves were content with their secret agreement. It would just be a matter of time. Still, Henry was curious as to why his bride was so damned restrained. Was she not a virgin, and feared his discovery of the fact? He shuddered. He was not curious enough to find out for himself. Or perhaps, he considered, she was afraid of her fate were she not reasonable with him. He frowned. His conduct toward the Princess of Aragon, and that witch, the first Anne, had been entirely correct. No one could fault him, although he knew there were those who had tried.

Henry Tudor stared at Anne, silently questioning her easy acquiescence, and was suddenly tempted to ask her true feelings. She wouldn”t tell them to him, of course, but neither, he realized, would she lie. She was far too clever a woman. Henry Tudor shook himself like a large dog coming in from the rain. The first Anne had been clever, and her daughter, wee Bess, was showing signs of being clever as well. God deliver him from clever women! Best to leave well enough alone and be glad that Anne, his princess wife from Cleves, was such a discreet lady with a temperate disposition. The king”s thoughts slid away to more pleasant matters.

On the twenty-seventh of the month the king gave a great feast for Anne”s attendants from Cleves. They were then all sent home with many gifts and the royal couple”s good wishes. Only Helga von Grafsteen and Maria von Hesseldorf remained from among Anne”s maids. Mother Lowe, who had been the queen”s nurse, also remained with her mistress, as did young Hans von Grafsteen. To Lady Browne”s great annoyance, the king personally told her that eight maids of honor were enough for Anne. No more appointments would be approved.

On the third of February orders were given for a reception to be held for the new queen in London. If some thought it strange that the king had not yet planned the queen”s coronation, they did not dare say so. The following day the royal barge came down the river from Greenwich to Westminster. As they passed the tower, the guns sounded a salute. The riverbank was lined on both sides with the cheering citizenry. The king and queen were escorted by barges filled with members of the court and the London guilds.

Anne was very touched by her new subjects. She was almost sorry she would not be their queen for very long, but if Henry Tudor did not want her for a wife, she certainly did not want him for a husband. A friend, yes. He was going to become a very good friend, but a husband? Never! However, for the sake of appearances, when the king”s barge landed at Westminster, Henry and Anne walked hand in hand to Whitehall Palace, where they would be staying overnight.

The Earl of March attempted to single out Nyssa while they were at Whitehall, but the scurrilous gossip surrounding him made the girl have a special care for her reputation. She did her best to avoid him.

”My duties with the queen leave me little time for myself, my lord,” she told him firmly when he sought to invite her for a ride. ”And when I do have time for myself, I prefer the company of my family.” Varian de Winter was disappointed, but he vowed to himself that he would try again to win her favor at a more opportune moment.

It wasn”t long before the ladies of the queen”s household knew for absolute certain that their mistress was a wife in name only, and would remain that way. Anne, in an effort to support the king, played the innocent. In a court rife with intrigue, sexual promiscuity, and adultery, it was unbelievable that the queen should be so innocent, and yet it appeared she was. One winter”s afternoon as Anne sat with her ladies, the queen even remarked how thoughtful the king was of her.

”Vhen he comes to bed each night, he gifs me a tender kiss and says, ”Good night, sveetheart,” and vhen he leaves me in the morning, he kisses me again and says, ”Farevell, sveetheart.” Is he not the best of husbands? Bessie, my girl, fetch me a cup of malmsey, please.”

The queen”s ladies looked astounded, and finally after several long moments Lady Edgecombe said, ”We hope your grace will soon be with child. All the country will rejoice when we have a Duke of York joining Prince Edward in the royal nursery.” She smiled weakly.

”I am not vith kinder,” the queen said blandly, and she accepted the goblet of wine Elizabeth FitzGerald brought her. ”Thank you, Bessie.”

”I think your grace may still be a maid,” Lady Edgecombe said daringly, and her companions paled at her impudence. They knew she would not have said such a thing to another woman, but this queen was so good-natured, and unfailingly kind, she rarely took offense.

”How can I be a maid, and yet sleep vith mein Hendrick each night, Lady Vinefred?” She chuckled. ”Dot is foolish.”

”To be a true wife in every sense there must be more, madame,” Lady Edgecombe said gently. ”Is there no more?”

The queen shook her head slowly, adding, ”But I am contented that I know no more. Hendrick is a goot husband to me.” There, she thought. I have, thanks to the nosey Lady Edgecombe, corroborated the king”s word regarding the nonconsummation of our marriage. The queen then arose and said, ”I vould rest, ladies. You are all dismissed but Nyssa Vyndham, who vill attend me.” She arose from her chair and walked slowly into her bedchamber with Nyssa hurrying behind her.

”Poor lady,” the Duchess of Richmond said. ”She truly does not understand. What a shame the king does not like her. I wonder what will happen to her? He certainly cannot accuse her of adultery, like the other one, nor claim consanguinity, as he did with the first.”

”It will probably be an annulment,” the Marchioness of Dorset said. ”What other excuse does he have?”

Nyssa closed the door to the queen”s bedchamber firmly behind her. She turned to the queen, whose face was strangely contorted, and said sympathetically, ”Do not let them distress you, dear madame.”

To Nyssa”s surprise, Anne burst out laughing, and when Anne had finally managed to regain control of herself, she said to the girl, ”I vant to tell you something, Nyssa, but it is a great secret. If you cannot keep such a secret, you must tell me now, and I vill not tell it to you at all, but I vould like to tell you. The others, they are not my friends. They are too overcome vith their own importance, and the other maids not mature enough. I need a friend, Nyssa Vyndham. Ya! Even a qveen needs a friend. Hans, he is a friend, but he is also just a lad, for all his responsibility. I vould have one of my own sex to talk vith.”

Nyssa came and knelt by the queen, who had seated herself by the fireplace. ”I am proud to serve you, dear madame, and I will keep your secrets. I should be honored to be the friend of a queen.”

”I shall not long be your qveen,” Anne said.

”Oh, madame!” Nyssa cried. Distressed, she looked up at her mistress. ”Do not say it, I beg you!”

”Listen to me, Nyssa Vyndham. Hendrick Tudor does not like me. I saw it from the first. The king vould not haf married me if he could haf found a way out of our betrothal, but he could not. On our vedding night ve made an arrangement between us. He vould not consummate the marriage, claiming my person repelled him; and I vould not contest an annulment when the time came. Today that silly, vell-meaning, but curious Lady Edgecombe gave me an opportunity to confirm the king”s claim.”

”But his grace is so courteous of your person,” Nyssa said, confused. She had heard the rumors, but had ignored them as idle gossip.

”As a vife, Hendrick cannot abide me, Nyssa, but as a friend, vell, that is a different matter. Ve play cards each night vhen ve haf retired to the bedchamber. I usually beat him, for he is not very clever, poor Hendrick. I vonder that people fear him.”

”Oh, madame, he is much to be feared. He is pleasant with you because you have given him his way, but when he does not get his way, he is like a surly beast. Make no mistake, the king can be dangerous.”

”Your mother, I am told, vas his mistress,” the queen said.

”For just a few months before he became enamored of the first Queen Anne. Mama was a widow, and my aunt, the Countess of Marwood, dragged her to court to help her overcome her grief. The king was instantly taken by her, but Mama hid behind her mourning. She was very frightened by the king, and had never known any man but my father. The king, however, told Mama that on May Day she would become his. She wanted to run away, but she could not, for the king threatened to take me away from her.”

The queen”s blue eyes widened with surprise. ”So,” she said slowly, ”Hendrick can be ruthless vhen he vants to be.”

”Aye, madame, he can,” Nyssa said softly.

”So your mama became Hendrick”s lover on May Day, ya?”

”Yes, and for several months after, she was his. She grew to love him, and she understood him quite well. Then came Mistress Anne Boleyn to court, and everything changed. My stepfather came to court too, and the king arranged that he should marry Mama. He was my father”s heir, and had loved Mama from afar, though he never dared to give voice to his passion while my father lived. So they were married in the king”s own chapel, and then returned to RiversEdge, our home. Mama, however, has always remained the king”s most loyal servant. She returned briefly to court twice at his request; once to intercede with the Princess of Aragon, and a second time when Mistress Anne was executed. She has never been back since.”

”Vhat is it Hendrick calls her?” the queen asked.

”His little country girl,” Nyssa replied with a smile.

”And are you a country girl, Nyssa Vyndham, or do you like this court? I think it is very exciting. My brother”s court vas so dull, and serious. No cards or dancing, or pretty gowns.”

”The court can be exciting, Your Grace, but I think, like my mother, I prefer the country life,” Nyssa answered. ”Still, I am honored to serve you, and my aunt hopes I will find a husband here.”

”You haf no one at your home?”

”Nay, madame. I am quite the despair of my family. I have attained my seventeenth year, and there is no gentleman, suitable or unsuitable, who catches my fancy or appeals to my heart,” Nyssa told the queen. ”If you are not to be queen long, I wonder what will happen to me. Do you know when the king will seek this annulment, madame?”

”I tink it vill probably be in the spring sometime. Hendrick is not a man to go long vithout a voman. Already his eye begins to roam. Haf you not noticed it? He smiles upon Mistress Anne Bassett, upon Mistress Howard, and upon you. You do not see it?”

”Upon me?” Nyssa was horrified. ”Oh, madame, surely not upon me? The king was my mother”s lover! He is old enough to be my father!”

She grew pale and near to fainting. The queen put a comforting arm about the girl. ”Nyssa Vyndham,” she said, her voice filled with laughter, ”Hendrick is old enough to be my papa too. Perhaps I haf listened to too much gossip. Perhaps the king”s kindness to you is because of the affection he bears your mama.”

”Aye!” Nyssa said, able to draw a breath again. ”I am certain that his grace looks upon me as he would the lady Mary or the lady Elizabeth.”

Still, the queen”s words disturbed her, but she could not speak even to her aunt about it. To do so would violate the trust that the queen had put in her. What would happen when the marriage of Anne of Cleves and Henry Tudor was dissolved? The king”s ministers would insist he take another wife, a wife who could give him more sons. The king had, of late, begun to speak on the virtues of Englishwomen as wives as opposed to foreigners. Nyssa was suddenly very aware that she was being studied by certain important members of the Privy Council. Her virtuous behavior and her loyalty to the queen became even more pronounced. It was the only shield behind which she might hide.

In March, Henry Tudor informed his council that consummation of his marriage to Anne of Cleves would be absolutely impossible. The Privy Council realized that they were being commanded, as subtly as Henry Tudor was capable of being subtle, to find a way out of his marriage for him. The king insisted to his ministers that he was certain that there was a precontract between Anne and the son of the Duke of Lorraine.

”We will certainly reinvestigate the matter, Your Grace,” Thomas Cromwell assured his master, and the Duke of Norfolk almost laughed.

The king thanked his council and left them to their debate.

The members of the Privy Council looked to Cromwell.

”There was no precontract,” Cromwell said bleakly. ”Before the king”s marriage contract was even signed last autumn, we sent to the current Duke of Lorraine. He was the bridegroom proposed for Anne of Cleves when they were children. He has since inherited his father”s dukedom, and he swears that there was no precontract. He sought among his father”s papers. He even spoke with his father”s confessor. There was no evidence of a precontract. The late duke”s priest says a betrothal was but casually discussed once, and then never pursued. The king cannot dissolve this marriage by means of that excuse.”

”He will be rid of her, Crum,” the Duke of Norfolk said. ”His juices are already flowing, and he is eager for a woman in his bed. I am told his eye is happily wandering among the prettier women of the court. He will not bed this Flanders mare, but I believe him still capable of siring a child. One prince is not enough, gentlemen! We must have a nursery full of little princes for England.”

”I agree,” Bishop Gardiner said silkily.

”Yet the queen is a good woman,” the Archbishop of Canterbury interjected in kindly tones. ”We should not be responsible for harming this faultless creature. It is unworthy of us as Englishmen. If this marriage is to be dissolved, it must be done through annulment. The queen must be gently treated, and given a generous portion in return for her cooperation. I think you would all agree to that, gentlemen.”

”What if she is like the Spanish bitch, and will not cooperate?” the Duke of Norfolk demanded. ”After all, the fault is his grace”s. Has he not told everyone who would listen that he cannot consummate the marriage? What if she will not give way? We”ll have to find another way, and what way is there other than . . . ” He made a slicing motion across his own long throat. His face was grim.

”Thomas, Thomas,” the archbishop chided the duke softly. ”This lady is nothing like the Princess of Aragon. She can be reasoned with, and I will reason with her myself. What think you, Crum? An annulment?”

Thomas Cromwell nodded. ”It is the only way, my lords.”

”Then you must propose it to the king, and see what he says,” Archbishop Cranmer told him. ”With his grace”s permission, I will deal with the queen. She cannot be mistreated. She is of a royal house.”

”So was the Spaniard,” muttered the Duke of Norfolk.

”This is a different matter altogether, Thomas,” was the archbishop”s patient reply.

”The king may not wish to be held up to public ridicule,” fretted Cromwell. ”What man wishes to admit to his kind of problem?”

”He has no other choice,” Bishop Gardiner replied practically. ”If he would be rid of this lady, then he must make some sacrifice.”

”This is not a simple man we are speaking of,” Cromwell said irritably. ”This is Henry Tudor himself!”

”We will support you in this, Crum,” the Duke of Norfolk assured the chancellor. ”Partisan politics must be put aside for England”s good. Are we not agreed there, gentlemen?” He looked about the table.

”Aye!” the others said with one voice.

”I am not certain of your reassurances, my lord,” Cromwell replied, ”but it would seem that I have no choice in the matter other than to approach the king with regard to an annulment. It will be done this very day. Waiting cannot help us.”

The chancellor departed the Privy Council to seek out the king. The other men began to drift away as well. Bishop Gardiner sidled up to the Duke of Norfolk and said, ”We must speak, Tom.”

”Come with me,” the duke answered.

The two men moved out into one of the royal gardens, deserted on this rather chilly day. Spring was near, but not quite at hand. Walking among the green maze they would be unobserved, and unheard. It was the perfect spot for plotting.

The Duke of Norfolk looked at his companion. The bishop was a tall man with a long face ending in a round chin. His nose was big and his lips fleshy. His dark eyes were unfathomable. He wore his graying hair cropped close just below the top of his ears. He was a very difficult and arrogant man, but like the duke, he was conservative both politically and religiously. And like the duke, he had been kept from court in recent years by Thomas Cromwell. Neither man had any love for the chancellor.

”Now that the matter is practically settled,” Stephen Gardiner said low, ”we must consider the matter of a new marriage for the king.”

”There isn”t a woman of rank in Europe who would have him,” the duke said harshly, ”but that is all to the good, isn”t it, my lord bishop? The king will find his new bride right here in his own garden. He will choose from among English roses, not from among foreign flowers.”

”Have you a lady in mind, my lord?” the bishop asked slyly. ”For all his great size, he prefers dainty women of some beauty who can flatter him into believing that he is still the handsomest prince in all of Christendom. A lady who loves music, and dancing. A lady who is young enough to bear children, and to flatter his always burgeoning ego. Yet what young girl would want to ally herself in marriage to that great, hulking mound of flesh with his stinking abscessed leg? A man who has cast off three of his four wives—and one must ask oneself, would Queen Jane have survived to live a long life had she not died of the complications of childbirth? In retrospect he fashions her the perfect wife, but would she have continued to be so, or would his eye have begun to wander again? What maid of good family would sacrifice herself to such a man, Thomas?”

Norfolk regarded the bishop evenly. The duke”s long, lean face, set with high cheekbones, was calm, his eyes serious. He was the premier noble in all of England, but even his own wife, Lady Elizabeth Stafford, had warned Thomas Cromwell not to trust Thomas Howard, who could speak as fair to his enemies as he could to his friends. Not that Cromwell had needed the warning.

The Duke of Norfolk was a schemer, but he was also ambitious and highly intelligent. His first wife had been Anne, the daughter of Edward IV, sister to Henry VII”s wife. She had given him one son, Thomas, who had died young. The lady Anne had not lived a great deal longer. His second wife had given him a son, Henry, who was the Earl of Surrey, and a daughter, Mary, who had been married to Henry Fitzroy, the Duke of Richmond, the king”s beloved illegitimate son. There had been times the Duke of Norfolk dreamed of seeing his daughter on England”s throne, but Henry Fitzroy had died, and Queen Jane had produced the desired legitimate heir.

Now another plot was forming in his mind, and he answered the Bishop of Winchester quietly. ”What maid, you ask, my lord bishop? Why, my niece, Catherine Howard, my deceased brother”s daughter. She is young, and pretty, and most malleable. Already the king eyes her, for she serves the queen as a maid of honor. Why, only the other day he called her a rose without a thorn. She is a perfect choice.”

”He eyes others as well,” the bishop said. ”There is the Bassett girl, to whom he gave a horse and saddle last autumn, and another maid of honor, Nyssa Wyndham, whom he calls a wild English rose. Your niece may have competition for the royal marriage bed, and however you scheme, Duke Thomas, the king will have his way this time. Last time he left the choice to others, and it will cost him dearly to right the matter, both in prestige and worldly goods. Remember that well as you plot.”

”The Bassett girl is of no import, Bishop. He had her once, so I am told, and neither of them thought a great deal of the experience. He rewarded her good nature with a minor gift, and thinks kindly of her, but he would never marry her now. He wants in marriage a woman he can have no other way. He will have my niece only when he slips a wedding band on her dainty little finger. The game has not yet begun, Bishop, but it is about to, and I will personally instruct my niece in her behavior. We will have no debacles with Catherine as we did with Anne Boleyn, that foolish headstrong creature who lost her head for her alleged adulteries.”

”But what of the other girl?” the bishop asked.

”Lady Nyssa Wyndham?” the duke replied. ”Her mother was the king”s mistress some fifteen years ago. Perhaps you remember her. Her name was Blaze Wyndham.”

”Is the girl the king”s get?” the archbishop wondered. ”As I recall, her mother left court rather suddenly, did she not? Is that why you are not worried about this girl? She is the king”s daughter perhaps?”

”She is not the king”s daughter,” the duke said. ”Her father was Edmund Wyndham, the third Earl of Langford. She was already two years old when her mother, then widowed, came to court.”

”Then why,” demanded Stephen Gardiner, ”do you not fear this young woman, my lord? You know what a romantic fool the king can be. It would be just like him to choose this girl over all others in a desperate attempt to recapture his youth. As I recall, her mother allied herself to no one. Her loyalty was solely for the king. This girl could be dangerous to us, my lord.”

To us. The duke masked his triumph. Gardiner was with him. ”If I feel the Wyndham girl is becoming a threat to our plans, my lord bishop, I will see that she is discredited in the king”s eyes. You know how he dislikes being disappointed by someone in whom he has placed his trust. With your help, our little Catherine will be England”s next queen.”

”It is to be hoped she will not go the way of your other niece, Anne Boleyn. You managed to survive her, but if this girl is not all you make her out to be, you might not survive the disaster that will follow in the wake of the king”s anger and disillusionment.”

”Catherine Howard is nothing like Anne Boleyn. Anne was very sophisticated by virtue of her years at the French court. She was older, and willful. Catherine is but sixteen, sweet, silly, and pliable. She has had a hard life, being orphaned early and placed in my mother”s care. Why, had I not obtained her place for her at court, I cannot imagine what would have happened to her. She will be grateful to be queen, and to have everything she has ever wanted. Putting up with the king and his little foibles is a small price to pay for such a glittering prize as a throne. She can take comfort in the knowledge she will surely outlive her husband. She will do as I tell her.”

”You are certain that she is everything that the king would want in a bride, my lord? There are no little secrets? No ugly flaws?” the bishop pressed.

”None,” the duke told him in positive tones. ”She has lived like a nun down at Leadinghall in my mother”s care. She is a skilled musician, and she loves to dance. She is nothing more than a frivolous piece of pretty fluff. She is just what the king needs.”

”Then so be it,” the bishop said. ”We will encourage our sovereign liege lord in his pursuit of Catherine Howard. We will not be queenless long, once he has freed himself of Anne of Cleves. But Cromwell? What of Cromwell? Will he not try to stop us, my lord?”

”Cromwell is finished,” the duke said, his triumph evident. ”He has failed the king in the worst way possible. All of Henry Tudor”s embarrassment and difficulties in this matter have been laid at old Crum”s doorstep. The king will never forgive him. We need not worry about his foiling our plans, my dear bishop. Thomas Cromwell will be too busy trying to save his miserable life. It is astounding that one of such low birth could have climbed so high, but then these are very modern times, are they not? I do not like modern times. I am a man who prefers life the way it has always been, and when finally we are rid of Cromwell, it will be that way once again.” He smiled a wintry smile, and then without another word he turned and left the bishop standing in the middle of the green maze.