thought it might be prudent to revise the line of succession.”
For a moment Edward was confused. Then he realized. “Because you don’t think I’ll live long enough for Jane to have a son.”
Dudley said nothing, but his gaze lingered on the parchment. Edward squinted to read the flowery calligraphy. At the top was his title: Edward the Sixth, by the Grace of God, King of England, Ireland, and France.
(Back then the English monarchy liked to claim ownership of France, even though France had a perfectly suitable king of its own. The relationship between the two countries was obviously strained as a result.)
“‘For lack of issue of my body,’” he read, then stopped to take a breath. “‘Upon the event of my death, I bequeath my kingdom and the entitlements and protections thereof, to the Lady Jane Grey and the male heirs who follow her.’” He glanced up at Dudley. “You want me to make Jane herself the queen?”
Dudley nodded sagely, his eyes gleaming above his great nose.
Edward didn’t know why he felt surprised at this news.
“But she’s a woman,” he murmured. “The crown can’t go to a woman, right?”
“Jane would have my son to guide her,” Dudley said. “And me.”
Well, that made sense, thought Edward. Lord Dudley had been one of his most faithful and trusted advisors over the years. The duke had never led him astray.
Dudley handed him the quill.
Edward hesitated. He ignored Dudley’s protests and rose shakily from his bed, crossed to the window to stare down at the courtyard. For just a moment he thought he actually saw Jane down below him, the jewels of her golden gown catching the sun, her hair a gleam of red. But when he looked again she was gone.
Jane was on her honeymoon, he told himself. Not here.
Then he allowed himself to truly consider the idea of Jane as queen. His little, stubborn, and bookish, utterly sweet cousin Jane. Queen of England.
She wasn’t going to like that. She’d even said as much once. Too many rules.
But what was his alternative? Mary was still a Verity and a royal stick in the mud. Bess was still of an uncertain opinion when it came to her stance on E∂ians. Jane was the only decent choice left from the royal line, unless you factored in Mary Queen of Scots.
He shuddered.
“Queen Jane,” he whispered to himself. “Queen Jane.”
It had a nice ring to it, he thought. Jane would be a kind queen, for one thing. She was well educated—some would even say too well educated, for a woman. She was clever. She had backbone, wouldn’t let the counselors make all the decisions. She could make a good ruler, an excellent ruler, even, in spite of the whole female problem. He allowed himself the sentimentality of picturing Jane in the palace, living in his chambers and taking her meals at his table and reading the books from his library.
Wearing his crown.
“Is there a problem, Sire?” Dudley prompted. “Do you need to lie down?”
“Give me the document,” Edward said. Dudley moved the parchment to a nearby side table, and Edward signed his name carefully. The duke leaned over him to drip wax onto the bottom of the paper and helped Edward to press the ring with the royal seal into the wax. After that was finished, Dudley signed the paper himself, as a witness, along with Master Boubou. Then Dudley rolled the scroll up and whisked it out of sight.
Weariness tugged at Edward again, and he got back into bed, sinking against his plethora of pillows. He closed his eyes.
He had just made Jane the most powerful woman in England.
He liked the idea, but there was still something nagging at him. A doubt. A whisper of worry.
He tried to ignore it. His stomach rumbled, and he decided that any misgivings he might be feeling were due to how hollow and exhausted he was. He really should eat something, he thought. He wished Mistress Penne had left the soup.
He opened his eyes to ask Dudley to send for her but fell silent when he saw the duke and the doctor standing close together, staring out the window where he had been standing a few moments before.
“So. It is done,” the duke said in a low voice.
“It is done,” Boubou affirmed almost mournfully. “And it will be done, as I promised.”
A chill trickled down Edward’s spine. He must have made some kind of noise, because both men turned to look at him. Edward quickly closed his eyes and tried