right on that count, Edward thought. Mary hated E∂ians. But he had bigger problems at the moment.
He glanced at Bess, who was staring at him intently, then back to Mary. “Listen, both of you.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t have ‘the Affliction.’ Lord Dudley has been poisoning me.”
Mary pulled free of Edward’s grasp.
“Eddie,” she said soothingly. “No one’s trying to harm you. Lord Dudley least of all.”
He scrambled to sit up. “No! He is! You must arrest him!”
Mary’s brow rumpled. “Eddie, my dear boy. The duke has been your trusted advisor for years.”
“He wants the country for himself,” Edward insisted. “He wants me dead.”
There was a moment of heavy silence.
“Why do you think Lord Dudley is attempting to poison you, Edward?” Bess queried then, softly.
“My dog,” he said breathlessly, winded from all this excited talking he was doing. “My dog could smell the poison in my blackberries.”
Both ladies turned to look at Pet, who was sitting on her haunches across the room. The dog rose to her feet uncertainly.
Mary’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Eddie, please. Now is not the time for jokes.”
“I’m not joking,” he protested. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. My dog will tell you. Won’t you, Pet?”
He looked pleadingly at Pet.
She cocked her head at him quizzically.
“Come on, Pet. It’s all right. Show them,” he urged.
They all stared at the dog.
“You think your dog can talk?” Bess said slowly.
“Yes. She’s . . .” An E∂ian, he was about to say, but the word died on his lips. Mary had just been talking about how she wanted to purge E∂ians from the country.
Pet whined and lay down on the floor, her brown eyes worried.
Mary shook her head. “Edward,” she said even more solemnly than usual. “You’re not well.” She stood up and went to the table where she’d laid the box. She undid the ribbon and opened it. “Lord Dudley thinks of you as a son, you know. He is devastated by what’s happening to you.”
Edward fell back, flummoxed. He could not think of anything else to say that would convince them.
“He said you haven’t been eating,” Mary said, as if this entire outburst of Edward’s was forgotten. “So I brought you something.”
She reached into the box and lifted up . . . a blackberry pudding.
“Your favorite,” she said brightly.
The sweet smell of the berries filled Edward’s nostrils. His stomach clenched. “Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?” he gasped.
“Now, Eddie, don’t be difficult.” Mary produced a little silver knife and a china plate and cut him a hefty portion. She sat down next to him and lifted the fork to his mouth.
“Have a bite, Eddie,” she said. “For me.”
He met her eyes, hers glittering with some dark determination, his glossed by a sheen of tears. In that moment he understood the truth.
Mary was in on it.
“Be a good boy, Eddie.” She pushed the fork forward.
“Don’t call me Eddie,” he returned in a low voice. He gathered his strength and reached up to take the fork. He turned it around slowly, balancing the precarious morsel of pudding. His hand wavered, trembled, but he managed to hold the tines to her lips. “You first, sister.”
His heart ached with the betrayal of it. She was his sister. She was a terrible, humorless, traitorous, bloodthirsty, dowdy spinster of a woman, twenty years his elder, but she was still his sister. His own flesh and blood.
Silence.
Mary stared at him. Bess still was standing across the room like she’d been frozen in place, her expression unreadable.
Mary smiled quickly and took the fork back from Edward, set it on the plate. “I couldn’t possibly,” she said. “I’m watching my figure.”
“You’re watching your figure do what?” he asked.
Her eyes closed for a moment. Then she smiled again, tensely. “Oh, Edward, always joking, aren’t you?” She stood up and brushed imaginary crumbs from her skirt. “At least your illness hasn’t robbed you of your sense of humor.”
He wanted to tell her that he’d given the throne to Jane and see if she’d find that so funny. He couldn’t imagine that Mary would be in collusion with Lord Dudley if she knew that particular detail of the duke’s plan.
But telling Mary about the newly revised line of succession would only put Jane in danger. So instead he said, “The duke will turn on you, too, you know. Just as soon as he’s done with me.”
She stiffened. “You are confused, brother. You’re not thinking clearly. And I am sorry for you.” She touched his shoulder