My Lady Jane Read Online Free Page A

He’ll be a model husband.”
    Edward coughed again into the handkerchief Dudley had given him. There was that funny taste in his mouth, something sickly sweet that mixed badly with the lingering blackberries.
    â€œI’m marrying off my cousin to a horse,” he muttered.
    Then he put the quill to the paper, sighed, and signed his name.

TWO
    Jane
    â€œAnd the blessed event will take place Saturday night.”
    Lady Jane Grey blinked up from her book. Her mother, Lady Frances Brandon Grey, had been speaking. “What’s happening Saturday night?”
    â€œStand still, dear.” Lady Frances pinched Jane’s arm. “We need to make sure these measurements are perfect. There won’t be time for alterations.”
    Jane was already holding her book as still as possible, and at arm’s length. A feat of strength for someone who could wrap her own fingers around her upper arm.
    â€œNote the bust hasn’t changed a smidge,” said the seamstress to her assistant. “Probably never will, at this rate.”
    In another feat, this one of self-restraint, Jane did not smackthe woman’s head with her book. Because the book was old and valuable: The Unabridged History of the Beet in England: Volume Five . She didn’t want to damage it. “All right, but what’s happening Saturday night?”
    â€œArms down now,” said the seamstress.
    Jane lowered her arms, marking her place in her book with her index finger.
    Her mother plucked the book from her hand, tossed the precious tome of beets onto the bed, and adjusted Jane’s shoulders. “Stand straight. You’ll want this gown to hang correctly. You won’t be carrying your books during the wedding, after all.”
    â€œWedding?” Mild curiosity edged into her tone as she leaned to one side to look at her mother around the seamstress. “Who’s getting married?”
    â€œJane!”
    Jane snapped straight again.
    The seamstress noted the final measurements of Jane’s hips (poor for childbearing—another of Jane’s failures) and gathered her supplies. “We’re finished now, my ladies. Have a good afternoon!” She fled the sitting room in a flurry of cloth and needles.
    Lady Frances pinched Jane’s shoulder. “ You’re getting married, my dear. Pay attention.”
    Jane’s heart immediately began to beat faster, but she told herself not to worry. It was only an engagement, after all. She’d been engaged before. Four times, as a matter of fact.
    â€œTo whom am I engaged this time?” she asked.
    Lady Frances smiled, mistaking Jane’s reaction for acceptance. “To Gifford Dudley.”
    â€œGifford who?”
    The smile turned into a frown. “The younger son of Lord John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland. Gifford.”
    Well, Jane knew of the Dudleys. Though the family itself was fairly minor as far as noble houses went, known more for the prize horses they bred and sold, there was one other interesting fact: John Dudley was the president of the High Privy Council, the right hand of the king, a trusted advisor and perhaps the most powerful man in England, aside from Edward himself. And some might argue that point, too.
    â€œI see,” she said at last, though she had never encountered this Gifford fellow at court. That seemed suspicious. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be just as wonderful as the other fiancés were.”
    â€œDo you have any questions?”
    Jane shook her head. “I’ve heard all I need. It’s only an engagement, after all.”
    â€œThe wedding is on Saturday, darling.” Her mother looked annoyed. “At the Dudleys’ London home. We leave tomorrow morning.”
    Saturday. That . . . was soon. Much sooner than she’d expected. Of course she’d heard Saturday before, but she hadn’t actually thought about how soon it was, or internalized what that might mean for