exciting,â chirped Adella as she fluttered around the sunlit room, touching everything as though it were all goodluck. Puffs of dust flew up at her fingers. âYouâre finally getting married!â
âFinally,â Jane said, staring at The Gown. It was gold-and-silver brocade, embroidered with diamonds and pearls. (Recall that these were the days before Queen Victoria famously wore a white gown for her wedding and forever changed matrimonial fashion.) It really was a lovely creation, and expensive, no doubt. Perhaps sheâd even hear just how expensive if she were to protest this match even further.
But Edward had asked her, and she would do this for him.
A knot tightened in her stomach when she thought of Edward.
Once, when sheâd lived with Katherine Parr, when she and Edward had been hiding in the back of the library of Sudeley Castle all afternoon, which they often did, and after sheâd started complaining about her many terrible engagements, which she often did, Edward had poked her in the ribs and said, âSuch high standards, Jane. Well, I suppose you could always marry me.â
Back then marriage had seemed to her like a silly game rather than a cage to be locked in, as it was starting to feel now. âThatâd be quite a risk youâd take, getting engaged to me,â sheâd replied. âYou know I bring about the ruin of all of my potential suitors. Besides, I donât think Iâd like to be queen. Too many rules.â
âOh, come now, it wouldnât be so bad.â Edward had tapped her upturned nose and smiled. âWeâd have a jolly time together.â
Theyâd both laughed like it was a joke, and never spoken of it further, but Jane had thought about it later. That he might havemeant it. Sheâd suspected for a while that Thomas Seymour and her mother were plotting that very thingâsending her to live with the dowager queen to be educated and refined, on the off chance that one day sheâd marry Edward and become queen herself.
He was right, too. It wouldnât have been so bad, even if it was difficult to think of Edward as anything more than her friend. Sheâd read about romance, about how your heart was supposed to pound in the presence of your beloved, your breath was supposed to catch, etcetera, etcetera, and sheâd never felt anything like that around Edward. But she could think of worse things than marrying her best friend. Far worse things.
But then Katherine Parr had died in childbirth, and Thomas Seymour had committed treason and lost his head. Jane had been sent back to Bradgate, and her mother had started looking for eligible husbands again.
And now Edward was dying, and Jane was getting married tonight. Probably.
Unless some kind of miracle happened.
Afternoon transformed into evening, and it seemed less likely that a horrible catastrophe would befall the Dudley family and save Jane from her fate. The Gown went on, the green velvet headdress went up, and Janeâs hopes went down.
The worst part?
No books.
Between all the hair plaiting and gown adjusting, Jane let her fingers drift across the book spines on the shelves of the library.History, philosophy, and science: her favorite things. Things that would save her if the wedding got boring.
âNo books.â Lady Frances smacked Janeâs hand away from the gilt-lettered spines. âI will not have my daughter say her vows from behind a dusty old book.â
âTheyâd be less dusty if the Dudley family took care of them.â Jane gazed longingly at the literary cornucopia. Indeed dusty, but certainly still in fine enough shape to read a hundred times. âMaybe youâd prefer I brought my knitting.â
âWatch your mouth. No one likes a sarcastic wife.â A strand of Lady Francesâs brown hair turned gray, as if by magic. (Not actual magic, mind you, but the magic that daughters possess over their mothers.