“You fell in love at first sight?” Nyssa had never heard the story, but it sounded so very romantic.
“At first sight,” her uncle said softly. His eyes swept to his wife. “Did I not, puss?”
Bliss had a look in her eyes that her niece had never before seen. “Aye,” she drawled. Then, remembering herself and where they were, she snapped, “Why are we standing here in this draughty hallway? We are due at court shortly.” She turned to Tillie. “You’ve done well, girl. I’ll give my sister a good account of you when I write her next. Heartha has trained you well and can be proud.”
“Thank you, m’lady,” Tillie responded, bobbing a little curtsey. Then she put the cloak over Nyssa, settling it smoothly and turning her mistress about to fasten the gold frogs that held the garment shut.
“Where are the boys?” Nyssa asked as they exited the house.
“Awaiting us in the coach,” her aunt replied. “Edmund and my Owen will ride with the coachman. ’Tis not far.”
Her two cousins scrambled from the carriage and climbed atop the coach box with their driver as the two women reached the vehicle’s door. Nyssa saw her brothers, seated with their backs to the coachman. They were more elegantly dressed than she had ever seen them. Philip was dark-haired and light-eyed like their father; Giles, fair like their mother. They wore haut-de-chausses of black velvet, the slashings in the fabric showing white satin beneath. Their stockings were striped black and white, and their black leather shoes had rounded, narrow toes. Their doublets were of black velvet, embroidered with pearls, over which they wore identical sleeveless jerkins of white doeskin with shoulder puffs. The jerkins hung to their knees. Each boy wore a small gold neck chain from which hung a medallion with the family’s coat of arms. Small jeweled daggers hung from their girdles, and each wore a flat bonnet of black velvet with ostrich tips atop his head.
“You both look very fine,” she complimented them, surprised.
“As do you, sister,” Philip Wyndham told her in return.
“Look, Nyssa,” Giles said excitedly. “I have my own dagger!” He proferred the bejeweled weapon for her to see. It was studded with garnets, tiny diamonds, and seed pearls.
“You must never draw it in the king’s presence,” she warned him. “Or the prince’s either. Remember, Mama told you that was treason.”
Giles nodded, his blue eyes wide. “I won’t forget,” he said.
Philip, however, looked irritated at his elder sister’s admonition. “If you tell me once,” he said archly, “I remember. It is not necessary to repeat it, Nyssa.”
“Your apologies, my lord,” she mocked him, settling her skirts about her. “I don’t know why I always forget how wise you are, Viscount Wyndham. How terribly remiss of me to have done so.”
Giles giggled, and even Philip was forced to smile at the barb.
“There must be no squabbling amongst you,” Bliss warned.
Nyssa folded her hands meekly and became instantly silent, as did her two brothers. The coach pulled away from the house and headed down the road to Hampton Court. Soon the traffic was very heavy. Nyssa found herself fascinated by it all. Other coaches surrounded theirs, some of them even more elegant and rich-looking. There were ladies and gentlemen mounted upon fine horseflesh wending their way amid the carriages. Everyone was going, it seemed, in the same direction—to Hampton Court.
Hampton Court had been erected by Cardinal Wolsey, the king’s counselor. It had been built on land acquired from the Knights Hospitalers of St. John in 1514. The Order of St. John, however, would not sell the cardinal the land. They rented it to him instead for ninety-nine years, at a nominal fee of fifty pounds. Building had begun in the spring of 1515. Although the king and Katherine of Aragon were entertained there in May of 1516, the palace was not completed for several more years.
It was built around three courts: the Base Court, the Clock Court, and the Cloister Green. The buildings were of red brick, decorated with blue-black patterns in a diamond shape. All the turrets were crowned with lead cupolas. The exterior walls of Hampton Court were decorated with the cardinal’s coat of arms, as well as a set of terra-cotta roundels, which had been a gift from the pope. There was a long, windowed gallery where the cardinal walked on inclement days, and a garden where he would sit each evening. The palace had a thousand rooms, of which 280 were guest chambers. There were two kitchens, and in a room between them sat the master cook, garbed as elegantly as any courtier, directing his underlings grandly by word and the waving of a wooden spoon, his badge of office.
Bliss explained this all to her niece and two nephews as the coach slowly traveled along the crowded road.
“Mama met the cardinal once,” Nyssa told her aunt.
“I know,” Bliss replied. “He was a man to be feared in his heyday. He climbed long, and high. His fall was swift.”
“Mama always said he was a loyal servant of the king. Why was he executed?” Nyssa wondered aloud.
“The king grew angry with him because he could not seem to get the pope to agree to a divorce for him from the Princess of Aragon. The cardinal knew that the king wanted to marry Anne Boleyn, and the cardinal did not like her. He wanted the king to marry Princess Renee of France. It is possible the Princess of Aragon might have given way to a princess of France that the king have a male heir; but Wolsey had no intention of her giving way to Tom Boleyn’s girl.
“The cardinal had many enemies. Very powerful men always do. They saw this rift between the king and the cardinal as a chance to pull Wolsey down. The cardinal’s rather extravagant way of life was suddenly questioned quite vocally. A rather scurrilous rhyme was circulated. It set the king to wondering who was really in control of his realm: himself or the cardinal. The king does not like being eclipsed.”
“I know the rhyme!” Nyssa said excitedly. “ ‘Why come ye not to court? To which court? To the King’s Court or to Hampton Court? Nay, to the King’s Court! The King’s Court should hath the excellence but Hampton Court hath the preeminence.’ ”
“The author had to seek sanctuary at Westminster,” the Earl of Marwood told them. “The king was very angry, and became even more so when a Franciscan monk visiting court saw the magnificence of Wolsey’s court and asked, ‘Have they not in England a king?’ I heard it myself, as did those who were quick to report it to the king himself. Poor old Wolsey! The king’s vanity was sorely pricked. He called the cardinal to him, demanding to know why he had built so magnificent a house for himself at Hampton Court. I will give Wolsey credit, for he as quickly answered the king, ‘To show how noble a palace a subject may offer to his sovereign.’ He then turned the place over to the king, lock, stock, and barrel,” Owen FitzHugh finished.
“You mean lock, stock, tapestries, and carpets,” Bliss said with a laugh, and then she explained to the others, “The cardinal had a passion for tapestries. One year he ordered 132 of them. As for carpets, he had all kinds. Foot carpets, table carpets, window carpets. In one shipment from Venice there were sixty carpets alone just for Cardinal Wolsey. How he loved beautiful things!”
“Mama says he was going to be tried for treason,” Nyssa said. “What treason did he commit?”
“None, child,” Bliss told her, “but never repeat it. Wolsey simply made too many enemies. When he fell from favor, he was exiled to York, where he was archbishop. Had he lived quietly, and piously, perhaps he would have escaped his detractors, but the cardinal was not capable of it. He once again set up a sumptuous court. The king heard of it, and allowed himself to be persuaded that Wolsey might be in league with foreign powers. After all, the cardinal had always been able to gain the king what he desired, until now. With regard to the king’s divorce from the Princess of Aragon, he seemed helpless. Or was he? He was arrested at Cawood Castle, and died in Leicester Abbey on the road to London.”
“The king wields great power, doesn’t he?” Nyssa said softly. “I think I am afraid of him now, and I was not before.”
“You are wise,�
� her uncle told her, “to fear Henry Tudor. He can be the best of friends, kind and generous; yet he is a deadly enemy, Nyssa. Your mother survived her tenure at court because she was clever. She never allowed anyone to draw her into a faction, nor did she flaunt her privileged position while she held it. You would be wise to model your behavior after hers.”
“Perhaps I would be better off going home,” Nyssa said, and her brothers groaned in disgust at her cowardice.
“Nonsense!” Bliss said. “You have an envied appointment, Nyssa Wyndham. As a maid of honor to the queen, you will be sought after by many eligible gentlemen. Once you find a husband, you will marry and live happily ever after. That is the whole purpose of your coming to court. I am ashamed that my sister’s daughter would be so weak-livered as to want to run away. You will be seventeen at the end of next month, Nyssa. Need I remind you, you are practically considered too old for a first marriage? Blaze does not need you mooning about RiversEdge. She does not need to worry about you when she has your two little sisters to get safely through their infancy, and your younger brothers to bring up and find rich wives for, child. You, Giles, and Philip have been sent to court to find your destinies. To flee home is unthinkable!”
Philip and Giles Wyndham looked as if they wanted to burst into laughter, but they did not. Instead they watched as their elder sibling grew pink with embarrassment and outrage at her aunt’s words.
“I am not weak-livered!” Nyssa said angrily. “This is all very new to me. Please remember, Aunt, that when you first came to court, you came with your husband. You came to play. I, however, have been asked to serve a queen. I have no experience in the court. I am terrified lest I shame the family, but I am not weak-livered!”
“No, you are not,” her uncle agreed. “I remember when I first came to court as a lad, Nyssa. I was to be a page to Prince Henry, now our king. I was only six, and I had never before been away from home. It was a terrifying prospect. I know just how you feel, but do what I did. For the first few days be very mannerly, and watch, and ask. Do not be afraid of seeming stupid. Better you ask than make an embarrassing error later on. Besides, the new queen has not yet come, and will not arrive for a few weeks yet. You have plenty of time to learn your new duties. The Mistress of the Maids will help you. Your good performance reflects well upon her. She will want you to learn.”
“Thank you, Uncle Owen,” Nyssa told him. “I am glad you understand my fears.” She glared angrily at her aunt, but Bliss was not affected by it.
Their carriage had now arrived at the palace, and footmen in royal livery ran forward to open the doors to the vehicle so that its occupants might quickly dismount, and the coach be parked in order that room for the next carriage be made. As Bliss stood shaking the wrinkles from her gown, there was a nearby shriek of delight.
“Bliss! Is it really you? I cannot believe it!” A plump woman with dark hair, a pretty face, and lively brown eyes flung herself at the Countess of Marwood and hugged her enthusiastically.
“Adela? Adela Marlowe? Why indeed, it is you!” Bliss responded.
Adela Marlowe laughed. “I’ve grown as plump as a shoat with childbearing, haven’t I? But you! You look the same as ever!”
“Only a true friend would say such a thing,” Bliss said, laughing in return. “I’m not quite the slip of a girl I once was, Adela.”
Adela Marlowe swung her gaze to Nyssa. “Is this your daughter?” she asked, obviously assessing the girl. Young. Innocent. A good dowry.
“Nay, ’tis Blaze’s eldest daughter,” Bliss answered. “This is my old friend, Lady Adela Marlowe,” she told her niece. “This is Lady Nyssa Catherine Wyndham, Adela. She is to be a maid of honor to the new queen. Blaze’s two eldest boys have places as pages.” She nodded to her nephews. “Philip, Viscount Wyndham,” she said, “and Giles Wyndham.” To her absolute delight, both boys bowed elegantly, impressing Adela Marlowe.
“Are you betrothed, child?” Lady Marlowe asked Nyssa.
“Nay, madame, I am not,” was the soft response.
“Ahh, then, you must meet my son Henry,” replied Lady Marlowe.
“What a fine idea!” Bliss enthused.
“Bliss, my dear,” her husband interjected, “we had best present Nyssa to Lady Browne. She is expected, and should not be late. That would not, I fear, make a good impression upon the lady.” He took his wife’s arm in a firm grip.
“Owen is correct,” Bliss said regretfully, and then she kissed her friend upon both cheeks. “We’ll see each other later, Adela, and catch up on all the gossip,” she promised with a smile. Then her attention was caught by her son. “Young Owen, you get right down off that coach box! Where is Edmund Kingsley? Have we lost him already? Ohh, perhaps it was not a good idea to bring all these lads to court after all.”
Her husband smiled archly. “They are your responsibility, puss,” he said wickedly. “You did volunteer to bring them.”
Bliss glared at her husband, but with a smile he turned to go, and she was forced to quickly gather her brood and follow him.
Lady Margaret Browne was the wife of Sir Anthony, a gentleman-in-waiting, and the King’s Master of the Horse. Her husband stood very, very high in the king’s favor. He was a hardworking man whose sole interest was the king’s interest. He never involved himself in the political infighting that went on among the different factions of the court. His loyalty was to Henry Tudor alone, and his wife echoed his sentiments. Sir Anthony’s behavior had recently been rewarded by huge tracts of land in Surrey, formerly in the possession of Chertsey Abbey, Merton Priory, St. Mary Overey in Southwark, and Guildford Priory. His wife had been appointed the new queen’s Mistress of the Maids, a most coveted position.
Lady Margaret’s apartments were near those that would belong to the new queen. She greeted the Earl and Countess of Marwood cordially.
“It seems only yesterday that you came to court a bride, Lady FitzHugh,” she said to Bliss. “You do not, I think, suffer time too greatly. How many children living have you?”
“Three sons and a daughter, madame,” Bliss replied.
“Are these they?” Lady Browne asked, peering myopically.
“Only one is mine, madame. Young Owen, make your bow,” Bliss commanded her son, smiling, pleased, when he did so. “Allow me to present Edmund Kingsley, the eldest son of my sister Blythe, and her husband, Sir Nicholas Kingsley. And these two lads are Philip, Viscount Wyndham, and his brother Giles, the sons of my eldest sister, the Countess of Langford. The king has appointed them pages in the new queen’s household. I was told to bring them to you, madame.”
The three boys bowed in turn as they were introduced, and Lady Browne nodded, obviously delighted by their good manners. “And the lass, Lady FitzHugh. Who is she?”
“This is Lady Nyssa Catherine Wyndham, madame. The daughter of the Earl and Countess of Langford. She is to be a maid of honor.”
Nyssa curtsied prettily.
“A maid of honor?” Lady Browne exclaimed, and her face registered her distress. “Oh, dear, not another one! Every young woman of good family has come to court to be a maid of honor. There are simply not enough places! I wish I could help you, Lady FitzHugh, but I cannot.”
“I have not made myself clear,” Bliss said in an apologetic tone, but her husband recognized the iron beneath it. “Nyssa has already been appointed to her position by the king himself, when he visited Nyssa’s home last October and stood godfather to her newborn twin sisters. Nyssa is the daughter of Blaze Wyndham, Lady Browne. We are here today because she was summoned to court by the king. Nyssa’s appointment is not a tentative one, madame.” She smiled, but there was determination in her eyes. No one would take this position away from Nyssa!
“Oh!” Lady Browne answered. “I did not know. Blaze Wyndham’s daughter, you say? The name is familiar, but I cannot quite place it.” The girl was pretty and had good manners, but she was a total nonentity. There were fully a dozen families petitioning her for places; families of much mo
re importance, who would be willing to show her their gratitude in most substantial ways. The king had probably already forgotten his appointment of this pretty creature. She had to be put off.
“My mother was called the ‘Quiet Mistress,’ madame,” Nyssa said suddenly. She had seen the look in Lady Browne’s eyes, and reacted instinctively to it. “Mama’s tenure was brief, but I am certain you will remember her. She remains to this day the king’s most loyal servant, and friend.”
“You must not be so forward, child,” Lady Browne said sternly, but when she sighed, both Bliss and Nyssa knew she was beaten. “Have you ever been to court before?” Lady Browne asked, but knew Nyssa’s answer even before she spoke it. “Well, then, you have much to learn, and precious little time in which to learn it, I fear. Beginning tomorrow you will report to me after mass each day that we are here at Hampton Court. You will have to sleep at your family’s lodging temporarily, as it is impossible to find accommodations right now in the palace. The Maidens’ Chamber is filled with guests, since it is not needed for the new queen’s use presently. When we move on to Greenwich, however, that will all change. You must then remain with the queen unless she gives you permission to go elsewhere.”
“Yes, madame,” Nyssa said, and she curtsied.
Lady Browne nodded then turned to Bliss. “The same instructions apply to the pages as well, Lady FitzHugh. They have not been from home before either, I imagine. I hope they will not become homesick, and weep about it. I cannot be bothered with weeping boys.”
Both Philip and Giles looked extremely indignant at her words.
“Come, children,” Bliss said. “We shall show you about the palace, for you will need to know where everything is.”
“An excellent idea!” Lady Browne approved. “Do not forget, Nyssa Wyndham. First thing after mass in the morning!”
Love, Remember Me Page 5
