My Lady Jane(121)

He considered that a compliment.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He tucked a glossy black curl behind her ear, then dragged his thumb gently over her chin.

She leaned in until her lips were nearly touching his. “I have some idea.”

He kissed her again.

Of course this whole kissing Gracie thing didn’t mean that Edward was going to marry her, and that they were going to live happily ever after. (But if he played his cards right, who knows?) The happily ever after of this book belongs to Gifford and Jane. Naturally. But for now, Edward just kissed Gracie. More slowly this time. An explorer of new worlds.

Some time later he said, “Now give me Bess’s crown back, imp.”

She laughed and pulled the crown out of the satchel. “Fine. Have it. But I thought you said you didn’t want it.”

“I don’t want it. I’m not a gyrfalcon, am I? I’m a kestrel,” he said against her ear. “Not a king.”

She turned her head and kissed him, a teasing brush of her lips on his. “All right, then,” she said in her charming brogue. “But just so you know, Edward . . .”

He kissed her again. “You called me Edward!”

“Yes. Edward.” She grinned up at him. “You’ll always be a king to me.”





TWENTY-NINE


Jane

Okay, we’re almost to the happily ever after. But before that, we have to talk about the wedding. Oh, we know there was already a wedding. We mean a second wedding.

Jane and Gifford’s second wedding was very much like their first wedding.

Except this wedding took place outside.

During the day.

And the bride and groom actually liked each other.

And they were both human at the time of the nuptials, which was indeed the case at their first blessed union, but given the daytime nature of this one, we thought we should make that clear.

Jane and Gifford stood below an arch laced with flowers, a field spreading all around them. There were only a handful of chairs for guests, but every one of them was full. Lady Dudley and G’s younger sister, Temperance, were seated in the front row. Edward and Gracie (holding hands, of course), Bess, and Gran sat on the opposite row. Peter Bannister and Pet had also come, both in their human states (and this was the first time anybody ever saw Pet wearing actual clothes). Notably absent were those who’d conspired to set up the first wedding: Lady Frances had gone into exile when it became clear she wouldn’t be able to manipulate (or pinch or poke) Jane any longer (she ran off with the Grey Estates’ master of horse, which was quite the scandal); the Privy Council was certainly not invited; and Lord Dudley—well.

Lord Dudley was never heard from again. As far as we know, he lived, sentenced to finish out his days near a sulfur mine. It was that or death, and he chose sulfur. Whether or not he was happy with that decision, we may never know.

Anyway, back to the wedding.

On everyone’s lap rested a book. Any book. In case the wedding got boring. As the priest droned on in the same manner as last time, Jane was both pleased and annoyed that no one was taking advantage of her thoughtfulness.

“And now,” said the priest, “let us declare the miracles of holy matrimony.”

First, true love.

With her free hand, Jane squeezed Gifford’s, smiling up at him. Love, they definitely had. It felt true. Her heart pounded as the priest extolled the wonders of love and finding one’s perfect match.

“I love you,” Gifford whispered, and Jane warmed all over.

“We’re not to the vows yet,” the priest muttered out of the side of his mouth.

“Sorry.”

Second, virtue.

Gifford’s gaze dropped to peer down her bodice.

Jane snorted and laughed, drawing Looks from everyone. But she didn’t care. Not this time.

Third, progeny.

Well, that was under discussion. Maybe one day.

“Now you may give your vows,” said the priest.

“I’m going first,” Jane said. Gifford had gone first at their previous wedding, and it was only fair that Jane got to lead this time. “I, Jane Grey-Dudley, hereby declare my devotion to you. I swear to love you faithfully and forever, rescue you when you’re in mortal peril, and keep a pantry stocked with apples so that you never go hungry. To illustrate the depth of my emotions, I’ve written a list of things you outrank.”

Jane took a moment to unfold the paper flowers she’d been carrying. Gifford shifted nervously, trying to get a look at the writing. She flicked the papers toward her so he couldn’t see.

“Gifford, I love you more than knitting, though to be honest, I love a lot of things more than I love knitting.

“I also love you more than being queen, which admittedly, I didn’t love a lot.

“I know I’m not inspiring much confidence at this point, but there’s something else I thought I’d bring up.” She lifted her eyes to him. “I love you more than I love books.”

Gifford laughed and leaned down to kiss her, but the priest cleared his throat. “Ring. Then more vows. Kissing comes last.”

Gifford heaved a melodramatic sigh and offered his hand. “Very well.”

Jane pulled a ring from the pocket sewn into her gown—the same ring she’d put on his finger during their first wedding, stashed in a drawer since that night. Now, she slipped it onto his finger and held her hand over his. “I give myself to you.”