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"Connections by marriage only, and I am widowed now," Jane, Lady Rochford said. "Remember that I am related to the king himself on my mother's side, although being related to Henry Tudor is certainly no guarantee of personal safety."

Winifred Edgecombe paled. "You will end up without your head one day, Jane," she warned. "As for Lady Nyssa Wyndham, the king has remained friends with her mother. And the girl, I am told by Lady Marlowe, is an heiress."

"So, the chit has something to recommend her besides her beauty," Lady Rochford noted. "Still, only the highest born should serve the queen. It was that way in Queen Jane's time . . .and before. "

She was referring to her late sister-in-law, Anne Boleyn. Jane Rochford had had an unhappy marriage to Anne's brother, George; but Anne, who adored her sibling, could see no wrong in George. In the end, Jane had had her revenge on them both. They were dead, and she was in favor again. Lady Rochford smiled coldly. She gazed across the room at Nyssa Wyndham. She was young, and beautiful, and rich; but it took a great deal more than just those attributes to survive at court. You will have to be clever, little one, she thought. If you are not clever, you will not survive. Yes, you will have to be most clever, I think.

CHAPTER 3

THEsix English maids of honor had finally all been chosen. They included the Bassett sisters, Anne and Katherine; Katherine Carey, the daughter of William Carey, and his wife, Mary Boleyn; Catherine Howard, the niece of Thomas, Duke of Norfolk; Elizabeth FitzGerald, called the Orphan of Kildare, the late Earl of Kildare's child; and Nyssa Wyndham. To Lady Browne's pleasure, the king had ordered her to fill the other six places.

"We will send the maidens from Cleves packing in short order," he told her. "If my bride is to be Queen of England, then she should be served by English women, should she not, Lady Margaret?"

"Yes, Your Grace," the smiling lady replied, her good humor restored. Lady Browne no longer minded that the king had chosen the first six maids. She would profit handsomely from the other appointments.

Nyssa and the Bassetts were the eldest of the maids chosen, but the sisters were clannish, and enormously proud of the fact that their father was the royal governor of Calais. Anne, the elder of the two, had been the cause of gossip when the king had presented her with a horse and saddle in early summer. There was nothing to the chatter, but the talk had erupted anyway. The sisters, however, had always been a part of court life in one way or another, and Nyssa found their superior airs very annoying.

"Pay no attention to them," little Catherine Howard said, and she laughed. "They're naught but a pair of babbling magpies."

"It's easy for you," Nyssa told her. "You're a Howard. I'm just a Wyndham of Langford, and am yet ignorant of court ways."

"Fiddlesticks!" Elizabeth FitzGerald said. "I've been practically raised here at court, and your manners are impeccable, Nyssa."

"Indeed they are," Katherine Carey agreed. "No one would guess you are newly come to court. Honestly!"

They were friendly girls, fifteen and sixteen years of age, and each of them prettier than the other. Catherine Howard had auburn curls and beautiful cerulean-blue eyes. Katherine Carey was a black-eyed blond. Elizabeth FitzGerald was black-haired and blue-eyed. They were also, Nyssa discovered, mischievous and full of high spirits. The gentlemen of the court were eager to be with them. Lady Browne had her hands full keeping her charges in order.

The Princess of Cleves finally arrived in Calais on the eleventh of December, but could come no farther. The weather simply refused to cooperate. The Channel was ferociously stormy for the next two weeks. It was soon apparent that there would be no gala Christmas wedding. The court, however, was at a fever pitch of excitement. Each day, more and more of the nobility arrived at Hampton Court, summoned by their king to pay their respects to the new queen, who remained stranded in Calais.

Then on December twenty-sixth the weather lifted briefly, and the Lord Admiral decided that if he did not sail immediately, another winter storm would roar down the Channel, making a crossing impossible until spring. They sailed at midnight. The crossing was fair and pleasant. At five o'clock in the morning the ships carrying the wedding party disembarked at Deal, where the Duchess of Suffolk, the Bishop of Chicester, and others were waiting to meet the new queen. Anne was lodged at Dover Castle, and almost immediately the weather turned foul once more. It began as sleet and quickly turned into a late December snowstorm. The winds were icy and blew without ceasing. It was colder than most remembered a winter being in many years.

Anne, however, insisted on pressing forward to London. On Monday the twenty-ninth she arrived at Canterbury, where Archbishop Cranmer greeted her, escorted by three hundred men in scarlet silks and cloth-of-gold. There Anne was housed in the guest house of St. Augustine's Monastery. On Tuesday the thirtieth of December, Anne departed Canterbury and rode as far as Sittingbourne. On New Year's Eve day she pressed on to Rochester. She was met on Reynham Down by the Duke of Norfolk and a hundred horsemen in green velvet coats decorated with gold chains. They escorted her to the Bishop's Palace, where she would remain for the next two nights.

It was there that Lady Margaret Browne and fifty of the new queen's ladies, including the six maids of honor, awaited Anne. Brought before the bride-to-be, Lady Browne attempted to conceal her astonishment and dismay. The woman before her was but barely recognizable as the woman in the Holbein painting that the king so admired. Lady Browne curtsied low, remembering as she did the scurrilous rhyme that had recently been making the rounds at court.

If that be your picture, then shall we

Soon see how you and your picture agree!

The gentle-visaged lady in the painting appeared to be one of medium stature, but the original was a tall woman with extremely sharp features. Why, she would be able to look the king directly in the eye! Her complexion was not pale, but rather sallow-hued. Her eyes were her best feature, Lady Browne decided; a bright blue, nicely shaped, and well-spaced. As Lady Browne arose from her curtsey, the lady Anne smiled. It was a kindly, sweet smile, but the Englishwoman knew in her heart that this woman would absolutely hold no appeal for the king. She was not at all the sort of woman Henry Tudor favored.

Margaret Browne and her husband had been part of the court for many years. She knew that the king, although a large man himself, preferred dainty, feminine women with clinging natures. This was a Valkyrie! A Rhine maiden! There was nothing helpless about her. And worse, her clothes were horrible. Totally unfashionable. Ugly! She wore an enormous elephant-eared headdress that hid her hair and gave the illusion of even greater height. It would have to go.

"Welcome to England, madame," Lady Browne said, remembering her manners. "I am Lady Margaret Browne, appointed by his grace, the queen's mistress of her maids. I have brought six of them with me, and would present them with your gracious permission." She curtsied again.

Young Baron von Grafsteen translated for the princess. He had now been assigned to her service by his uncle. When he had finished speaking, she nodded her head vigorously, the headdress swaying dangerously as she did so.

"Ya! Ya!"

Lady Browne signaled to another page by the door. Opening it, Philip Wyndham beckoned to the six English maids of honor to enter. The young girls, in their finest gowns, came tripping gaily into the chamber. They stopped at the first sight of Anne of Cleves, and both Bassett sisters gasped noisily. Lady Browne glared furiously at them, saying as she did, "Make your curtsies, maidens!"

The six young girls curtsied quickly.

"You will come forward as I present each of you to her grace," Lady Browne instructed them. Then she turned to Hans von Grafsteen and said, "I shall introduce these maids to the lady Anne, sir."

"Bring the lady Nyssa forward last, my lady," the young man requested. "Her highness vill be excited that Lady Wyndham can speak her tongue, even slightly. She vill vant to question her about England."

"Of course, sir," Lady Browne told the young boy, and then she introduced each girl to her future queen, pleased that in spite of their obvious shock, they had regained their equilibrium and displayed excellent manners. She presented Katherine Carey first, as the girl was a niece of the king. Catherine Howard was next. She was not particularly important of herself, but her uncle, the duke, was. Then came Elizabeth FitzGerald and the Bassett sisters.