My Lady Jane(92)

But then there were other times, especially when they were around Edward and Bess and Gran, when Gifford retreated behind a wall of silence, his jaw set in a way she recognized as anger. She wondered if he blamed her for all that had happened.

They had no home now, no safe place to go except for this broken-down abbey. No title or position. No possessions, as he’d pointed out.

That was hardly her fault, but still. She’d been awful to him in London. They’d had an actual fight. She’d thrown pillows at his head.

No wonder he hadn’t even been trying during their training session with Gran and Gracie. He was probably happy to avoid her company.

Jane watched him canter across the field, his head high, mane streaming. He seemed so content as a horse. And it wasn’t as though she’d given him much of a reason to try to be a man.

Her chin lifted. They had so little time together now—just a few minutes at the start and end of every day. She’d have to use those precious minutes wisely.

She’d have to try harder to win back his trust.

When she came into the kitchen later, Gracie, Bess, and Edward were discussing the best routes to take to France.

Bess unfolded a map and spread it across the table. “If we want to move quickly—”

“And we do,” said Edward.

“—then we need to take the most direct route with the best roads,” Bess finished.

Jane stood on tiptoe to peek around Edward’s shoulder. “Let’s do that.”

“But there are a few problems with this route,” Gracie said. “Mary’s men will be looking for all of you, and this road”—she dragged her finger over a line—“takes us dangerously close to the Shaggy Dog.”

“The Shaggy Dog?” repeated Jane.

“From the description that Gifford gave us,” Edward said, “that’s the tavern you were attacked in. The headquarters of the Pack.”

Jane shivered. “What are our other options?”

“Longer paths on poorer roads.” Edward pointed out a few. They did look rather out of the way.

“So what will we do?” Jane asked.

“I . . .” Edward drummed his fingers on the map. “Speed is of the essence. But so is safety. What do the rest of you think?”

“Long way,” Gracie replied immediately. “The Pack is bad news.”

“Short way,” Bess said. “We’re taking back a kingdom. We should be bold. And swift.”

Everyone looked at Jane, who consoled herself with the reminder that, though she was a tiebreaker, this would still be Edward’s decision. He was the king. “Short way,” she said. “I agree with Bess.”

Gracie glared. Edward looked uncomfortable. Bess gave a faint smile.

“Furthermore,” Jane said, “I think we should recruit the Pack to our side.”

“Are you daft?” cried Gracie. “They almost killed you.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“They’re not just some random bandits, you know,” Gracie said. “They’re a well-run organization. And they see themselves as superior to humans. They certainly don’t answer to any king. They’ll use your pretty feathers to stuff their pillows, Sire.”

“Right. Recruiting the Pack sounds like a terrible idea,” agreed Edward.

“But we need anyone who isn’t already on Mary’s side,” Jane argued. “We could use all the help we can get.”

“Not their kind of help!” Gracie shook her head. “Tell her, Edward.”

“What do you think, sister?” Edward turned to Bess, who looked thoughtful.

“I have my army, of course, and France will hopefully agree to loan us some of theirs once you ask King Henry. But that still might not be enough men to take back your crown.” Bess tapped the place on the map where the Shaggy Dog was located. “Besides, I’ve been thinking that perhaps it’s not enough to simply take back your crown.”

Edward stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“This country is divided. E?ians and Verities are at each other’s throats. The people are caught in the middle, and they are suffering for it. It’s one thing to win back your crown, Edward. It’s quite another to win back your country. Your people. You will need both sides to do that. Verities and E?ians. You must unite them. And to do that, you’ll need the Pack.”

“You’re right,” Edward said.

“You’re crazy, is what you are.” Gracie’s green eyes were filled with worry—though that worry was masked with a practiced expression of annoyance. “If you go to the Pack, you’ll die.” She turned to Jane. “I don’t want to hear a rumor about Thomas Archer wearing a ferret stole come this winter.”

Jane shivered. She didn’t want to be a ferret stole, either. She remembered the danger of the Pack well enough. The gash in her side was still stitched and healing. And she remembered the villagers and their poor cow.

That was just the kind of thing that had to stop if things were going to get better for England. Which meant that Bess was right. I was right, Jane thought, silently congratulating herself for having the idea.

“Thank you very much for your concern,” she said to Gracie, “but I think we should go.”