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great deal of patience, I daresay.”

4
Frances Grey
September 1547
    I hardly recognized my Jane when I next came up from our home of Bradgate in Leicestershire to London. Not only had she had a slight growing spurt, but she also was dressed in the height of fashion, in a green that became her very well. “The queen gave me the material,” she said as she spun around, almost coquettishly, for me to better admire her. “Don’t you think it’s pretty?”
    “It’s lovely. But I have tried to get you to wear such colors before. You never would.”
    “The queen ordered it,” Jane said sensibly. “I could not refuse. And the Lord Admiral pressed it upon me, too. He hates dark colors.”
    Just as Harry had predicted, Tom Seymour had married the queen, having been allowed to do so by the king himself—unaware the couple had married long before the royal permission was obtained. That piece of news when it leaked out had been the scandal of the summer, and I had been all for removing my girl lest she be touched by it. I’d expected a proper marriage with the blessing of the king and the Protector, not this clandestine affair. Harry, however, had mandated that Jane stay put. “They’re properly married, after all, and any damage has already been done. And besides, Jane shall now be living in the same household as the lady Elizabeth, the king’s favorite sister. What better way to the heart of the king than that?”
    As usual, I had not been able to muster an argument. Instead, I had had to hope Jane would be so uncomfortable with the newlyweds, she would beg to be sent home when I visited. Perhaps the couple themselves might like some privacy, instead of having two young girls underfoot.
    But the visit did not match my hopes. Having shown off her new dress to me, Jane turned to Harry. “I like being here so much,” she bubbled. “The Lord Admiral is so pleasant, and the queen is so kind!”
    “How are your studies coming?”
    “Wonderfully,” said Jane, raising herself up on her toes to better emphasize her point. “The lady Elizabeth has an excellent tutor in Master William Grindal, and he teaches me as well on occasion. I know that your lordship sent me very good tutors,” she hastened to add. “But Master Grindal excels even them in Greek.”
    “We must not distract him from his duties to the lady Elizabeth,” I put in.
    “Oh, but the queen quite encourages it! And did you know that she will soon be publishing another book? Lamentations of a Sinner. She has even let me read the manuscript! I hope that the queen might even allow me to collaborate with her sometime,” Jane confided, her pretty brown eyes taking on a dreamy look. “When I am older and more accomplished, of course.”
    ***
    If I must say so myself, I sew a shirt beautifully. On many a New Year’s Day, I had presented my creations to my uncle King Henry, who confided to me once that they excelled his first queen’s handiwork, and she was a capital shirt maker. I also made smocks, which graced the forms of both the ladies Mary and Elizabeth. I did not neglect to keep my own family well supplied with these garments, and I was hard at work on a shirt for Harry when he joined me in my chamber later that evening. “I am doing something new with the embroidery this time. See?”
    “Lovely,” Harry agreed. “So what did you think? Were you pleased to see our Jane getting on so well in the queen’s household?”
    “It appears that Jane has become very fond of the queen.” I sighed slightly.
    “So what is wrong with that?”
    What was wrong with it, I longed to say, was that I wanted her to love me. “Nothing, of course. I just wish she paid the same respect to me as she did the queen.”
    “When has she been insolent toward you?”
    “Never in so many words. Well, not at all, really. She is a good girl. But—”
    “Collaborating with the queen when she gets older! Did you hear that? I say, this has opened up a world of opportunity for