Love, Remember Me (13 page)

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.

T
HE
time 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.

O
N
the 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.