“Turned? So you’re an E∂ian?” His heart thudded stupidly in his chest. What was it about this girl that flustered him so?
“Yes, an E∂ian,” she said. “I’ve never seen a kestrel E∂ian before. You make an attractive bird.”
His stomach turned over. “I’m a kestrel? Are you quite sure that’s what I am?”
“I’m not much for bird watching, but I know my birds of prey,” she said. “Why should that bother you?”
He didn’t answer, but the truth was that in the rules of falconry, which Edward had been practicing since he was a boy, there were certain birds suited to certain stations. The king’s bird was the gyrfalcon, the largest and most majestic bird of them all. As a prince he had worked with falcons (only slightly lesser in grandeur), while his father’s knights had used sacrets; the ladies, merlins; the squires, lanners; and so on and so on.
The kestrel was the smallest and weakest of the falcon species. Only the servants worked with kestrels.
He stifled a cough. “What animal are you?”
Dimples. “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see.”
His legs suddenly felt weak, and it wasn’t from the effect of the pretty girl. All of this exertion had been too much for him. His head was cloudy. He stumbled.
She tightened her grip on his arm.
“You’re not well,” she observed. “Do you want to stop?”
He nodded. She led him under a tree with a large root sticking out of it, where he could sit. He spent several minutes coughing weakly into the cloak. She stood a few paces away, studying him.
“Do you have ‘the Affliction’?” She looked a bit worried at the prospect of having strolled arm in arm with a diseased man.
“No.” Edward looked up at her. “No, I was being poisoned.”
Those mischievous eyebrows of hers lifted. “Poisoned? By whom?”
“By Lord Dudley,” he said, too tired now to try to think up an answer besides the truth.
“Why would someone want to poison you?”
“Because . . .” This was it. The moment he’d tell her who he was, and she’d have to decide what to do with him. “Because I’m . . .” he tried again.
“Out with it,” she urged. “I’m not sure I can stand the suspense.”
Well, if she was going to decide to cut his throat after all, at least it’d be over quickly. Best to be done with it.
“I’m Edward Tudor,” he answered. “And I need your help.”
FOURTEEN
Jane
Well. She was queen. That was unexpected.
Jane gave a half-panicked, disbelieving laugh. How could Edward do this to her? Why would he do this to her? He didn’t even believe that women belonged in leadership positions. If Edward had been in his right mind, he never would have chosen to make her queen.
That must have been it: Edward hadn’t been in his right mind. He’d had “the Affliction” boiling his brain and ruining his decision-making skills—which had until recently, in her opinion, been quite reasonable. But what could Edward possibly expect her to do with his crown?
She laughed again, although it came out as more of a sob. She was the queen. The ruler. The monarch. The sovereign. The leader. The head of state. The chief. The one wearing the proverbial pants. The person in charge. The boss. The. Queen. Of. England.
Jane had always resisted the notion that women were weaker than men, not just physically, but intellectually. Her education had been as good as Edward’s—they had even shared some of the same tutors for a time—and Jane had always excelled at whatever she put her mind to. She could speak eight languages, for heaven’s sake, and was considered by some of her instructors to be a marvel at rhetoric and reasoning. She understood the complexities of philosophy and the nuances of religion. She devoured books several times a day, the way ordinary people took their meals. She memorized poetry in Latin simply to pass the time. All this she could do as well as any man.
But could she rule a country?
Jane paced her new bedroom—a chamber in the royal apartments of the Tower of London fit for (what else?) a queen. Last night, after receiving her subjects (the thought made Jane’s stomach lurch) she’d been sent to her chambers to rest, Lord Dudley citing that a queen should not be kept up so late, and she’d need to be refreshed for a long day of queenly activities that awaited her in the morning.
Jane had been exhausted, so she’d complied, but she’d made certain everyone knew she wasn’t being