“The water will evaporate, and tomorrow Tillie can remove the stains it leaves,” Nyssa said in practical tones. “God’s bones, I am hungry again! Does lovemaking always make one hungry, Varian?”
Together they stepped from the tub and dried each other off. Then Nyssa cut several slices of bread, lavishly buttered a piece for herself, and placed a slab of rare beef upon it. Biting into it, she smacked her lips appreciatively, and then held it out to him.
“Would you like a bite, my lord? It is delicious.”
“I shall make my own,” he told her, “and afterward, I’ll have a sweet. Pear tartlet.”
“I had another treat in mind,” she told him mischievously.
“Madame, I must have time to restore my vigor,” he told her again.
“Can you not … well, is it not possible …?” she attempted.
“Not at will since I was seventeen,” he said with a laugh. “You will not be neglected, Nyssa, for I find you arouse me more than any woman I have ever known, but I am shortly to celebrate my thirtieth birthday, sweeting, and need a bit more time than when I was seventeen to regain my stamina. You are young, and I would have you well-satisfied lest you seek another lover and break my heart.”
“Ohhh, I should never seek a lover!” Nyssa declared. “I am your wife, my lord. It would not be honorable to betray you.”
Wonderingly he shook his head. “What loyalty do you have to me, Nyssa? A day ago my family entrapped you into marriage with me, and destroyed your reputation with the king. Surely such behavior is not deserving of loyalty. In time, I hope, you will come to fully love and trust me, but for now I should not blame you if you hated me.”
She sat cross-legged upon their bed, munching on her bread and meat, but she answered him honestly. “Varian, did you not tell me yourself that when you refused to take part in your grandfather’s scheme, he threatened to put me in another’s bed, so you agreed to help him after all because secretly you loved me? Certainly such action on your part is deserving of my loyalty. You saved me from the Blessed Mother only knows what horrendous fate.”
“But you do not love me,” he answered her.
“Nay, I do not,” she replied frankly, “but perhaps in time I shall. I cannot promise you that I will, but though we have been wed less than a full day, I find that I do like you. You are kind, and you have humor. I need to know you better, Varian.”
“Then you are not angry with me?” he said.
“Nay, not at you, but at your grandfather. I regret the way in which we were forced to wed. I regret that the king should think badly of either of us, even though we may not be important to him. I value the king’s friendship. I am saddened that he should believe that I betrayed that friendship by wanton behavior. We cannot tell him the truth, however.” She sighed, then continued, “My mother did not know my father, Edmund Wyndham, when she married him. She had had but a single glimpse of him once from behind a hedge when he came to seek Grandfather’s permission to marry one of his daughters. He did not even know how many daughters my grandfather had, or how old they were. It was most outrageous of him.”
“And how was your mother chosen?” Varian de Winter asked her. He was fascinated by this tale of his unknown mother-in-law.
“She was the eldest,” Nyssa answered him. “She was not quite sixteen. My grandfather’s flocks had twice been wiped out by disease. He was left virtually penniless with a fine estate, but no gold to dower any of his eight daughters. When the Earl of Langford appeared, and wanted one of his daughters to wife, Grandfather at first was suspicious, but he had never heard any ill spoken of Edmund Wyndham. My father told him that he was newly widowed and that he had no children. My grandmother’s fecundity was well-known in our region. My father reasoned that if my grandmother could bear healthy, living children, then certainly her daughters could as well. That is why he sought out the Morgans of Ashby.
“Still my grandfather demurred, but then Edmund Wyndham made him so handsome an offer he could not refuse him. My father agreed to take Mama without any dowry at all. Indeed he agreed to supply her with everything she needed. He would also dower Mama’s sisters and help my grandfather to restore his estates. Grandfather, of course, consented. He could do nothing else and be considered a reasonable man. Mama was furious. She believed that she had been bartered into marriage. My aunts, however, were simply delighted by their good fortune.
“My father’s nephew, Anthony Wyndham, came to marry Mama as proxy for his uncle, and to escort Mama to RiversEdge. She was furious, and says she detested Tony on sight, but I don’t believe it. She was prepared to hate my father too, but his charm, she says, won her over immediately upon her arrival at RiversEdge. She fell deeply in love with him. When he was killed in an accident, she blamed Tony. I was not even two, and Mama was with child again. She lost the baby, a son, and she hated Tony even more.
“My aunt Bliss brought her to court, and that is when the king saw her and fell in love with her. Tony had been in love with Mama since the first moment he had seen her, and now he followed her to court, and was devastated to learn of her favor with the king.”
“Like I love you,” Varian pointed out to Nyssa.
A sudden comprehension dawned in her eyes. “Aye,” she said slowly. “I suppose it is the same, but with Mama there was my father first. Tony would never have spoken up while my father lived. He nursed his passion in solitude, and no one was ever aware of it.”
“What happened when my cousin Mistress Anne Boleyn came?” Varian de Winter asked his wife. “How did your mother come to marry Anthony Wyndham?”
“Tony was my father’s heir, as there was no living son. When he finally came up to court, it was with a mad plan. He intended to tell the king that my father had asked him on his deathbed to marry Mama and protect us. It was a ridiculous scheme, Mama says, for my father was killed instantly when his horse threw him; but Tony decided the king would not know that. The king, of course, was delighted to have an honorable means of ridding himself of Mama, since he was so fascinated by your cousin Anne. They were married in the king’s own chapel, as you and I were, and departed court immediately. Mama was outraged.”
“To be supplanted by my cousin?” Varian wondered aloud.
“Nay,” Nyssa told him. “She had never wanted to be the king’s mistress in the first place, but how was she to refuse Henry Tudor? She realized that she would be but a diversion to him until another diversion came along. She is genuinely fond of His Grace even to this day, however, and he of her.
“Mama was furious that Tony had been so bold as to claim her with a lie she dared not deny for fear of his life, when she was certain she hated him with all her heart. In time, however, he won her over. They are very much in love to this day.
“I have always called Tony ‘Papa,’ for indeed I cannot remember Edmund Wyndham. He and Mama always promised me that I should choose my own husband. It was a foolish promise to make, I fear. Marriages among people like us are not usually contracted for love, are they?”
“Nay,” he agreed with her, “they are not.”
“So I am your wife, Varian,” Nyssa said quietly, “in the eyes of God, and in those of man. I know how a wife must behave, and I will endeavor to do my duty by you and any children with which we may be blessed. More than that I cannot, nay, I will not promise. I think despite it all that I am fortunate in you as my husband.”
Her honesty charmed him. He could not imagine any other woman sitting cross-legged and naked upon a bed, in conversation with an equally naked man, being so charming. “Every word you say, sweeting,” he told her, “and every action you take, endears you to me all the more. I am not dissatisfied with this match, and I pray your parents will forgive me for the way in which it was brought about.”
“I think my uncle already approves of you, my lord. You still have to deal with my aunt, I fear. Then there is the matter of how my parents are to be told of this marriage between us.”
“Can we not wait until we
return to RiversEdge?” he asked her. “I should prefer to tell them face-to-face.”
She liked him for that. It was the action of an honorable man. “Aye, that would be best, but we shall first have to win over Aunt Bliss. Lady Marlowe has her yet convinced that you are a villain.”
Varian’s face darkened. “That woman’s tongue should be tied in a knot,” he muttered. “She is the worst gossip at court!”
Nyssa giggled. “What a marvelous suggestion!” She chuckled. Then she licked the few crumbs remaining from her meal off her fingers and smiled seductively at him. “Come to bed now, my lord. You will catch your death of cold, and I shall have to spend our brief honeymoon nursing you with mustard poultices and herbal tea.”
“Do you not wish a piece of tartlet?” he tempted.
“Perhaps later,” she said with a small smile, and tossing back the covers on their bed, she beckoned him to join her.
“What manner of woman have I married?” he marveled at her.
“I do not think I know myself,” she replied, “but we shall enjoy finding out together, won’t we, my lord?”
He burst out laughing. “I said earlier that I should teach you to be naughty, Nyssa, but I do not think it necessary that I teach you. You are, I am pleased to say, quite naughty already.”
“You think me naughty because I enjoy your attentions, my lord? I would think you pleased.”
“I am pleased, sweeting. Do not think I am displeased by your actions. Nay, I am very pleased indeed,” Varian reassured his bride.
“If you are pleased with me, sir, then why do you stand halfway across the room by the fire?” she asked coquettishly. He turned lazily and lay two more logs upon the fire. Then crossing the room, he climbed into bed with her. “Now, madame,” he said, his look a smoldering one, “precisely what is it you want of me?”
Nyssa slipped her arms about him and drew him down so that their lips were almost touching. “Make love to me again, Varian,” she murmured softly against his mouth. “I want your passion again.”
Gently he caressed her face. He had awakened her to the pleasures of passion, but once the novelty of it wore off, he knew that she would find passion a hollow thing without love between them. She was so very young, and innocent, but he had learned this evening that her heart was a good one. He could but pray God that he could win that heart as easily as he had won her lovely body. Tenderly he kissed her, and then he said, “You may have my passion, Nyssa. It belongs to you even as my love belongs to you, my sweeting. It is yours forever.”
Forever, she thought muzzily, giving herself over to his kisses. It was a wonderful thought.
Chapter 8
“She does not look like a girl forced into a marriage,” Lady Adela Marlowe told her friend, Bliss FitzHugh, the Countess of Marwood.
They were seated in the gardens of the Earl of Marwood’s rented house on a lovely spring afternoon, watching as Nyssa and Varian returned from a picnic. About them the narcissus, daffodils, and primroses bloomed in a riotous display of bright color. The young couple strolled arm in arm, the basket in which their meal had been packed dangling from Varian’s free hand. Both were dressed casually, the bridegroom in dark breeches, his white silk shirt open at the neck. Nyssa affected country garb in a dark green skirt and white blouse. Her feet were bare and she carried her shoes in one hand.
“Indeed,” Lady Marlowe continued, “they do not look unhappy to me at all. Why, your niece has the look of a cat who has swallowed a particularly tasty bird, my dear Bliss. And it is quite clear to anyone observing them that Varian de Winter is absolutely besotted by Nyssa. How can this be? They have only been married two days. All the gossip says it was an enforced union due to the Lord de Winter’s bad behavior with the girl. I did warn you about him, Bliss,” she concluded in superior tones.
“It seems,” Bliss replied, “that he has admired Nyssa from the first moment he saw her at Hampton Court last autumn. He was determined to make her his wife, Adela. Nyssa had nothing to do with him, as you well know. She was much too busy with her duties. I really know nothing more about it. The king summoned Owen and me to him the other night, and the next thing we knew, we were in the midst of a wedding. Ohh, I hope she will be happy!”
“She has made her bed, and will have to lie in it,” Adela Marlowe said sourly. She was absolutely certain her friend was holding back some delectable tidbit of gossip about the matter. It was really quite mean of Bliss, considering their longstanding friendship. “I can only imagine what her parents will say when they learn of their daughter’s outrageous behavior and this hasty wedding,” continued Lady Marlowe meanly. “I’m sure the Earl of Langford would wish for a better match for his stepdaughter than the one she has so precipitously contracted.”
Bliss’s temper finally snapped. “God’s bones, Adela!” she swore. “To begin with, my niece is certainly not guilty of any outrageous behavior. Her conduct has been exemplary. Both His Grace and the queen have remarked favorably on it. As for Varian de Winter, I find him a most charming man. His estates match Nyssa’s, and, most important, he is no fortune hunter. Besides, he is a member of the Howard family. Even you cannot be so dense as to not know who the next queen is to be. Catherine Howard’s name is on everyone’s lips, and Varian de Winter is her cousin. All the Howards will soon be very high in the king’s favor. Will not my niece be sitting pretty then, Adela dear? By the way, have you found a suitable match for your little son yet?” Bliss gave Lady Marlowe one of her best smiles, knowing full well that her friend’s lack of success in finding a prospective wife for her son was quite a sore point with her.
“Look at them,” Varian murmured to Nyssa as they came across the chamomile-dotted lawn. “They are like two old village goodwives. I wonder whose reputation they are shredding today, sweeting?”
“My aunt looks very smug,” Nyssa observed. “She has obviously bested Lady Marlowe somehow.” Then she giggled. “I keep thinking about your remark last night about tying Lady Marlowe’s tongue in a knot. Do you think such a thing possible, my lord?”
He waggled his bushy black eyebrows at her menacingly. “Shall we try?” he asked her wickedly, causing his wife to dissolve into another fit of giggles. “Do you think her tongue forked like a snake?”
Nyssa laughed harder. Her sides were aching. “Stop, my lord!” she begged him. “I will wear myself out laughing if you do not cease. Then you shall be left alone and filled with desire tonight. Surely you do not want that?”
“Nay, sweeting,” he said softly, drawing her into his arms, covering her face with little kisses.
“My lord,” she chided him helplessly, but she did not really want him to stop. “Remember, my aunt and Lady Marlowe can see us.”
“So much the better,” he answered her. “It will give them something else to chew upon, my adorable Nyssa. God’s bones, I wish we could go home to Winterhaven now. This very day! I want you all to myself, and we have but tomorrow. Then you must report back to the queen.”
“We will have most of our nights,” she told him, her eyes growing soft beneath his passionate gaze. “I no longer have a place to sleep in the palace, nor do you, my lord. Each night we will meet here, and secret ourselves away from the world, Varian. It is enough for now.”
“Blessed Mother!” Adela Marlowe said, scandalized. “He is kissing her, Bliss! Why, he looks as if he would take her right there upon the lawn. ’Tis most shocking to say the least!”
“I think it rather romantic,” Bliss replied softly. “They are newly wed, Adela, and learning to know one another. It is charming. I am so relieved! Nyssa’s happiness will certainly reassure my sister and her husband. It will take some of the sting from the situation.”
“Have you written to them about the marriage?” Adela Marlowe asked.
“Nay, Nyssa and Varian wish to tell them. When the matter of the king’s marriage to the queen is settled, they will leave court, going to RiversEdge first, and then on to Winterhaven,” the Countess of M
arwood told Lady Marlowe. “They are right to do it this way. A letter is so impersonal when dealing with such a delicate situation.”
Nyssa and Varian had now reached the seated women. They bowed, and then passed on into the house, still hand in hand, smiling.
“Where do you think they are going?” Lady Marlowe wondered.
“To bed, to make love, of course,” Bliss said with a laugh. “I know that if I were Nyssa, married to that handsome devil, that is where I would be going. They both arrived yesterday afternoon, and did not come out of their bedchamber until after ten o’clock this morning. Tillie brought them a tray last evening. Nothing was left upon it this morning when the maid brought it back to the kitchen. Not a crumb of food, Adela, nor a drop of wine.” Bliss chuckled. “He has the look of a man with stamina,” she observed wickedly.
“Your niece is certainly behaving boldly for a girl who purports to have been a virgin two days ago,” Lady Marlowe noted sharply. “Why, she barely knows the man, or at least so you all claim, yet her demeanor is that of an experienced woman.”
“She was a virgin,” Bliss said, suddenly angry. “The king insisted upon seeing the proof of the consummation. He required that Owen and I be there to see it too, so there would be witnesses to the validity of the union. The Duke of Norfolk himself brought the bedsheet from the bridal chamber. And Tillie told my May that she saw the blood on Nyssa’s thighs when she helped her to dress that morning. Do not dare to even suggest that Nyssa was not a virgin. She was!” Then realizing what, she had in her anger, blurted out, Bliss continued. “And if you dare to tell anyone what I have told you, Adela Marlowe, I shall never speak to you again! Nor would the king be pleased to hear you gossiping about such intimacies regarding Nyssa.”
“I just knew there was something you weren’t telling me!” Adela Marlowe crowed triumphantly. “Do not fear, Bliss, I shall tell no one else. I just wanted to know all the details myself. Sometimes it is much more fun knowing what others do not know, don’t you think so?”
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