Taming The Tempestuous Tudor

Their stroll along the gravel came to a halt as he turned her to face him. ‘Listen to me, Henrietta. In many respects, you are alike and from a distance you could be taken for her, but anyone who’s seen her at close quarters would see that she doesn’t have your beauty. And that’s the first thing she’d see. I shall not be taking you to meet her. That would be asking for trouble.’

‘That’s as roundabout a compliment as ever I heard,’ she said, beginning to walk away. ‘You paint a harsh picture of her, my lord, and a fulsome one of me. I refuse to believe she and I are so very different.’

Again, his hand caught a fistful of her fur cloak, pulling her back to him. ‘You have a lot to learn then,’ he said, ‘and one is that I don’t flatter women as other men do to soften them up. The second is that your obstinacy and wilfulness are on a par with hers and that when I said it could be tamed, I meant it. You would do well to take my advice, Henrietta, if only to keep out of trouble.’

Etta glared at him with all the indignation of a thwarted young woman seeing for the first time that she would have to deal with a man as obdurate as herself. ‘Tamed, my lord? You would prefer a pliant and obedient wife, then?’

‘Yes, woman,’ he said, holding her still by her elbows. ‘I would prefer a pliant and obedient wife to a shrew. What man would not?’ He bent his head to hers, looking deeply into her eyes with a piercing glare that made her blink. ‘But you will not be twisting me round your little finger as you have been used to doing with your father. Your relationship to the Queen will not help you as much as you think. In fact, you may discover that you’d rather not be related. And, yes, you may glare at me like a tigress, Henrietta, but with me you’ve met your match. And tomorrow, we shall discuss our wedding plans.’

‘No need to wait for tomorrow for that, my lord,’ she said sharply, shaking his hands off her arms. ‘That can be arranged in one word. Simple! The shortest possible ceremony with the fewest possible witnesses. There, how does that sound?’

She did not fully expect to be taken at her word on this, when everything she had said so far had been countered with some argument, and she had anticipated that publicity, grand guests and a show of his good fortune would be essential requirements for a man of his considerable standing and wealth. So when he agreed with her that a simple ceremony was very much to his taste, she realised with a nasty thud under her ribs that her retaliation had rebounded on herself instead of him.

‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘I shall go ahead and buy a special licence to avoid all that time-wasting, if that’s what you prefer. It’s not cheap, but probably cheaper than feasts and dresses and all the trimmings. Worth it, to get things over and done with.’

Etta tried out what she hoped might be an impediment. ‘But what about the Queen?’ she said, frowning at his eagerness to comply. ‘As a relative, surely I shall need her permission?’

‘I don’t see that that will be necessary, mistress, when she has not yet recognised you as her relative. Has she?’

‘No. Not yet.’

‘Well then, the sooner we get the formalities out of the way, the better. She’s very unlikely to go searching for beautiful young female relatives, is she? In fact, quite the opposite, I’d say.’

This was not at all what she had wanted, or expected, but to say so was now impossible. By pretending to oblige her, he must know that he was acting to the contrary. And whose fault was that? ‘It will take a while for you and Father to complete the formalities,’ she said. ‘There’s the matter of dowries and jointures.’

‘That’s already in hand,’ he said, setting off towards the house. ‘Our lawyers are already drawing up draft agreements. I’m not difficult to please.’

‘Already? What do you mean, already? When?’ she yelled.

Ahead of her, he stopped and turned, his face a picture of merriment. Shaking his head with laughter, he came back to her. ‘When?’ he repeated. ‘As soon as I saw you, Henrietta. At the Mercers’ banquet. I spoke to your father the very next day. I know my own mind, too, you see.’

‘And you had the audacity, my lord, to flirt with me at only our second meeting? Because you thought you were on safe ground? I find that behaviour disgraceful. Does my father know you went so far?’

‘What, that I might have stolen a kiss, had I tried?’

‘Enough!’ she yelped. ‘You are a knave and I neither desire you nor do I wish to marry you. I want nothing you can offer me. Nothing!’ She would have dodged round him to walk away, but the pathway was narrow between hedges of box and, with one sidestep, he barred her way. Goaded beyond endurance by his trickery and his unyielding bulk, she pummelled his chest with her fists as she had not done since childhood fights with her brothers. ‘Nothing!’ she yelled. ‘Nothing!’

Easily, he caught her wrists and held them together on his chest, obliging her to stand close to him. ‘Yes, you do,’ he said, softly. ‘Oh, yes, you do, mistress, though I know you’ll not admit it. If you’d truly not liked the look of me, even a mere mercer, you’d not have returned for a second look, would you? You came to see me, not the fabrics, little schemer. And I have quite a lot to offer you. Now calm down, or do you want me to kiss you here, where we’re being watched from the house?’

‘No, I do not. Neither here nor anywhere else.’

Smiling, he let her go, retaining one of her hands in his. ‘Good. Now walk with me up the path and show me the rest of the gardens, if you please.’

Like her royal half-sister, Etta had a pragmatic streak strong enough to influence those decisions and emotions that might have looked to the uninitiated like the perversity of an indulged and beautiful woman. Being aware of this, her step-parents intended to overrule their wayward daughter in the matter of marriage to Lord Somerville, once the peacock feather had signalled her interest. But for Etta, even through the humiliation of defeat, the bitter pill was made easier to swallow by knowing that this handsome creature was not to be compared to other young noblemen she had met, neither in manner, ability, intelligence or success in business. Nor would he easily be deterred from having his way, once he had decided on it. And in this particular, Etta was determined to test him to the limit, for he had deceived her, whatever excuse he gave, and he would not be allowed to forget. As for making love in the future, she was angry enough to hold out against him for as long as she could, for they had spoken neither of affection nor love and, as far as she was concerned, he had forfeited any right to expect it.

Her body, however, told her a different story, now she had tasted his kiss and felt the hard power of his arms. The man was despicable, unprincipled and arrogant, yet her conscience told her that, as his wife, she would have to call on all her reserves of will-power not to let him dent her armour. Or was it already too late for that?

* * *

With her parents and Aphra, Baron Somerville was totally at ease, showing no signs of the opposition that would have daunted men of lesser confidence. But as she sat in dignified silence, Etta was able to discover, through their interest in him, how much of the world he had seen. As a man of Flemish origin, a ship-owning merchant, he had travelled far and wide, even up to the ice-cold northern lands where waterfalls fell from the sky, animals swam beneath the sea, where lights danced in the night and jets of hot water spurted from the ground. In any other circumstances, she would have asked questions and shown an interest in the man she was to marry, but pride forbade this now and her eyes found other answers in their surreptitious examination of his thick, silky hair, his eloquent hands and the zest for life that shone from his eyes. As she watched, it became clear why he had packed so much into his thirty years, why he had won the admiration of his guild and why his business ventures had flourished on the back of his ambition. It came as no surprise to her to learn that an aimless life at court was to him a waste of time unless he could contact those men he needed. Perhaps, she thought, he saw her as a useful acquisition with her resemblance to the Queen, a way to attract attention to himself and to make contacts that might otherwise have taken longer. Everything about him added to her impression of drive and capability, even the way he had conducted this speedy claim to her hand, efficient even by her father’s standards. Asking herself if she might have preferred a longer, slower wooing, she had to concede that her interest in him had been immediate, but that she had made some serious errors by her pique and overreactions. What this predicted for the next phase in their relationship Etta hardly dared to think, in the light of his considerable energies.

* * *

Nicolaus was not a man to be easily daunted by opposition, however, though opposition from a woman was something unfamiliar to him. But then, he had known that this one was different—as a successful merchant, he had taught himself to look out for rarities and Mistress Henrietta Raemon was about as rare as one could get, with her looks and breeding.

The breeding, of course, was something of which she was intensely aware and proud, and which, he thought, must be why she wished to make contact with her half-sister Elizabeth. Presumably, then, she had set her heart on acquiring a courtier husband, and although not exactly disappointed by this stance, Nicolaus believed it was unrealistic and rather naïve of her to set such an unnecessary target, especially when her father had alerted him at the beginning to his daughter’s dream of finding a potential for love in her future husband. Taking this hope seriously, Nicolaus had suggested a way of finding out what was more important to her, girlish romance or a courtier husband. For him to conceal his new title and any mention of his wealth and status from her at a trial meeting had been his suggestion, meant to discover any sign of attraction upon which they could base a relationship that would suit them both. Had he not been reasonably sure of the success of this plan, he would not have suggested it.

His friendship with Lady Raemon’s brother-in-law, Sir George Betterton at the Royal Wardrobe, had been the link by which he could make himself known to her without any of the resistance her parents had warned him about. She was, they said, fascinated by fabrics and fashion, as most women with her connections were. What better, then, than an innocent invitation from Sir George to see the Queen’s coronation robes? From the first meeting, his experience with women had assured him of her interest, not only in the materials of his trade but in himself, as a man. Suspecting that she would return for a second look, he had arranged with Sir George for a little privacy and, because he was trusted, his precious moments with her had proved to him that she found him attractive. Her refusal to allow a kiss was no great matter and her aversion to a mercer as a suitable husband had not deterred him either, thinking that her attitude would surely be softened when she learned what else he had to commend him. Perhaps he had underestimated what a complicated character she was. Perhaps his little deceit had been a step too far? Or was it not only that she was a complicated lady, but also an insecure one, too?

Her stepfather had made him aware of Henrietta’s parentage, which would account for her resemblance to the new Queen, but since neither of her parents had been known to Nicolaus, this information had not concerned him. It was only when he had met Lady Raemon at a later date, when she had mentioned Etta’s wish to attend court, that he had been made aware of their concerns, wanting only to protect her from what they saw as the inevitable malicious gossip of those who had known that particular mistress of the late king. Having been exposed to such wounding jealousies themselves, they knew what could happen to Henrietta if she was ever, as a young and innocent woman, brought into contact with court life. The fact that he, Nicolaus, had assured them of his lack of interest in this direction had been an added bonus to his suitability as a husband, though with Henrietta, it had been exactly the opposite. He was not only a mercer, of all things, with a home above a shop, but a most unlikely source of access to the Queen’s presence, too.

Etta had not had the chance to explain to him exactly what lay behind this urge to make contact with her half-sister, but her reason of a mere relationship did not seem to him to justify a rejection of everything else he had to offer. If that was not a sign of insecurity, then he did not know what was. What did she want, apart from to see her sibling? What had that outburst been all about? More to do with a thwarting of her hopes, he thought, than with being the wife of a mercer.

Settling down into the warm feather bed that night, Nicolaus wondered if her lovely cousin Aphra would be of any help to him in explaining the deeper reasons for her unexpectedly violent aversion. He had felt Etta’s body soften under his kiss, the way it had in his dreams. He had desired her from his first glance and knew he would have to make her his wife. Now, he saw that he would have to tame her to come to his hand, for she was of a wilder and more passionate breed than any he’d had dealings with so far. So much for her royal parentage. His last disjointed thoughts were of the peacock feathers. Such a boyish thing to do. No wonder she had not thought it funny.

* * *

The gardens at Tyburn House were not only extensive but also beautifully designed and kept in pristine condition throughout all the seasons. Few of Lord and Lady Raemon’s guests were allowed to leave without first taking a look at the knot gardens and borders, the fountains, water courses, and Lady Raemon’s delight, the large topiary hedges cut into the most fantastic shapes, lining the pathway to the orchard. Hoping to escape Lord Somerville’s company before he returned home, Etta walked with her cousin along the path where a tall pudding-shaped tree would surely have hidden them from sight if they’d not first been seen by the tall figure of the mercer. For some reason which she could not name, Etta felt the thrill of excitement at his approach, for not even she could have faulted his appearance, the virile masculinity of his walk, the assurance of his bow as he swept off his hat, the proud reach of his arms as he replaced it. Etta knew she would not be allowed to get away with any more of her incivility, yesterday’s furious objections having been dealt with quite pitilessly. A night of broken sleep and long periods of contemplation had told her that, this time, she would be obliged to accept, though perhaps not with the good grace her mother had commanded.

At his approach, Aphra disappeared with a diplomacy Etta did not appreciate. Even so, she retained a grain of satisfaction from knowing that, since supper last evening, she now knew much more about him than he had so far discovered about her. And she would have kept it so, had he not insisted on trying to redress the balance. ‘Tell me about yourself, mistress,’ he said, walking beside her.

She looked away into the distance where high shaped hedges enclosed them. ‘I don’t talk about myself to order,’ she said, ‘as some do.’

‘Not even to the man you’ll wed?’

‘If the man I’m being obliged to wed could not bestir himself to find out more before he offered for me, then I’ll be damned if I’ll spell out my life story for his pleasure. Most men would have shown some interest before they made an offer.’

‘I showed an interest, mistress,’ he said, laughing. ‘Ask your parents.’

‘Then you know all you need to know, my lord. There is no more.’

‘I see. Then you are content for me to find out for myself?’

‘No, I am far from content. I thought you knew that, too.’

‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘Most intriguing. Your parents told me you were fluent in French, Italian and Spanish. Is that what you mean by no more?’

‘Don’t patronise me, if you please. I’m not a child to recite what I have learnt for the benefit of my elders. Women seldom receive any credit for their learning, at the best of times, and it was not at my father’s request that I joined my brothers in the schoolroom. It was my wish to find out if I could match the Princess Elizabeth’s abilities. But so far I have not. I don’t have her Latin and Greek yet, nor her Welsh. And I don’t suppose I play on the virginal as well as she does, or dance. I doubt if I shall ever know now, shall I, my lord?’

He refused to rise to the bait. ‘I find that quite remarkable,’ he said. ‘It’s a pity, in a way, that you never had the chance to meet Lady Jane Grey. She was a scholar, too. Unlike her two sisters. They’re feather-brained to a degree. Jane didn’t dance well, though, and I’m sure you do.’

‘Again, I’m hardly likely to dance before the court unless I can...’

‘Go there, yes, Henrietta, I think I have the message now, I thank you. I can see we may be plucking on that one string until it breaks.’

‘Yes,’ she said, stonily. ‘I intend to.’

‘So how many children shall we have, mistress? Have you thought about that yet?’