My Lady Jane Page #3

"My Lady Jane" is a historical fiction novel that intricately weaves together the lives of Lady Jane Grey, the nine-day queen of England, and her tumultuous journey through love, loyalty, and political intrigue. Set against the backdrop of the Tudor era, the story follows Jane as she navigates her role in a court rife with danger and ambition. With a blend of humor, romance, and poignant moments, the novel explores themes of identity, power, and the struggle for agency in a world dominated by men. The imaginative retelling offers readers a fresh perspective on a well-known historical figure, inviting them to consider what might have been in the face of destiny.

• Short story

								


"Of course Elliott was jealous," I admitted. "But then, you know, Miss
Harvey, that jealousy is said to be the measure of a man's love. If he
went beyond his rights I am sure he is bitterly sorry for it."

"Does he really care about her still?" asked Jane, eating most
industriously, although somehow the contents of her plate did not grow
noticeably less. As for me, I didn't pretend to eat. I simply pecked.

"He loves her with all his heart," I answered fervently. "There never
has been and never will be any other woman for Elliott Cameron."

"Why doesn't he go and tell her so?" inquired Jane, as if she felt
rather bored over the whole subject.

"He doesn't dare to. She forbade him ever to cross her path again.
Told him she hated him and always would hate him as long as she
lived."

"She must have been an unpleasantly emphatic young woman," commented
Jane.

"I'd like to hear anyone say so to Elliott," I responded. "He
considers her perfection. I'm sorry for Elliott. His life is wrecked."

"Do you know," said Jane slowly, as if poking about in the recesses of
her memory for something half forgotten. "I believe I know the--the
girl in question."

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, she is a friend of mine. She--she never told me his name, but
putting two and two together, I believe it must have been your cousin.
But she--she thinks she was the one to blame."

"Does she?" It was my turn to ask questions now, but my heart thumped
so that I could hardly speak.

"Yes, she says she was too hasty and unreasonable. She didn't mean to
flirt at all--and she never cared for anyone but--him. But his
jealousy irritated her. I suppose she said things to him she didn't
really mean. She--she never supposed he was going to take her at her
word."

"Do you think she cares for him still?" Considering what was at stake,
I think I asked the question very well.

"I think she must," said Jane languidly. "She has never looked at any
other man. She devotes most of her time to charitable work, but I feel
sure she isn't really happy."

So the settlement story was true. Oh, Jane!

"What would you advise my cousin to do?" I asked. "Do you think he
should go boldly to her? Would she listen to him--forgive him?"

"She might," said Jane.

"Have I your permission to tell Elliott Cameron this?" I demanded.

Jane selected and ate an olive with maddening deliberation.

"I suppose you may--if you are really convinced that he wants to hear
it," she said at last, as if barely recollecting that I had asked the
question two minutes previously.

"I'll tell him as soon as I go home," I said.

I had the satisfaction of startling Jane at last. She turned her head
and looked at me. I got a good, square, satisfying gaze into her big,
blackish-blue eyes.

"Yes," I said, compelling myself to look away. "He came in on the boat
this afternoon too late for his train. Has to stay over till to-morrow
night. I left him in my rooms when I came away. Doubtless to-morrow
will see him speeding recklessly to his dear divinity. I wonder if he
knows where she is at present."

"If he doesn't," said Jane, with the air of dismissing the subject
once and forever from her mind, "I can give him the information. You
may tell him I'm staying with the Duncan Moores, and shall be leaving
day after to-morrow. By the way, have you seen Mrs. Kennedy's
collection of steins? It is a remarkably fine one."

Clark Oliver couldn't come to our wedding--or wouldn't. Jane has never
met him since, but she cannot understand why I have such an aversion to
him, especially when he has such a good opinion of me. She says she
thought him charming, and one of the most interesting conversationalists
she ever went out to dinner with.
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