“A good morrow to you, my Lord Sudley,” said the King.

The Admiral bent low and kissed the little hand. Then, lifting his face which was turned away from the King’s attendants, he slowly closed one eye and almost imperceptibly jerked his head. The little King’s face flushed with pleasure. Uncle Thomas meant: Let us be alone together.

There was nothing that would please Edward more.

“I would be alone with my uncle,” he said. “Pray leave us.”

He looked fearfully at his attendants as though he suspected that they might refuse; but there were no gentlemen of great importance among them at that moment to offer that advice, proffered ingratiatingly and yet in such a manner as to imply that His Majesty—for all his titles—was but a child, and a child who was in duty bound to obey his ministers.

When they had gone, Thomas said: “And how fares the King?”

“He was not feeling well until the Lord High Admiral called to see him. That lifted his spirits mightily.”

“My dearest nephew!”

“Uncle Thomas, it is long since I have seen you.”

“You are so guarded now, continually surrounded by your counselors. There seems hardly room for poor Uncle Thomas.”

“There is always room for Uncle Thomas.”

“Tell me, what money does Your Grace need?”

“I will show you. I have written out what I need and what I owe.”

“Then let Uncle Thomas take care of that.”

“Dear Uncle, it seems so strange. I am a King, and yet I have to do what I am told. I am kept short of money, and I have my tutors who call me ‘Majesty’ and yet hint at stern punishment if I fail in my duties.”

“Be of good cheer. To be a King is a great honor. But more so when the King is no longer a boy. Now if you were a man like myself or like your father…”

“How I wish I were! Yes… like my father, so that I only had to raise an eyebrow to have everyone trembling. How fares my mother? Have you seen her? It seems long since I have. I often think of the days when she would spend long hours with us…my sister Elizabeth and Jane Grey… while we were at our lessons. I miss them all sorely.”

“They are all well. They miss Your Majesty.”

“It seems a sad thing to be a King and not to have those you love about you. Oh yes, I would I were like my father.”

“Marry! He was a boy once. Soon your boyhood will be over, dear Edward. You will be a man; you will marry a wife…and, if you are like your father, mayhap six.”

The little King smiled sadly. “One would suffice for me.”

“You are wise, dearest Majesty. I myself would be happy with a wife, I am thinking.”

“It surprises me that you have not one. You are no longer young and, from all I have heard, the ladies are fond of you.”

“My lord King, if you were to command me to marry a wife, then I should have no excuse for remaining single.”

“I? Command you? Dearest Uncle, what do you mean?”

The Admiral’s eyes were alert. He loved the boy; indeed he did; and he was enjoying this moment. He had committed a great indiscretion. He had married the Dowager Queen, although her husband had been dead little more than three months. It was, to say the least, a great breach of court etiquette; he was not sure that it would not be regarded as a crime. The Council would be furious at his conduct, and he needed the approval of the King.

“If you were to choose a wife for me, whom would you choose? Think carefully, dearest nephew. When I was your age I used to imagine the people I loved best, married to one another. Just tell me; if you could pick a bride for me, on whom would you decide?”

Edward smiled. Like many whose minds are heavily burdened with learning, his humor was a little childish. He shut his eyes.

“I must think of a lady of your own age,” he said. “The lady must be one whom I love as much as I love you. There is only one grown lady whom I love as I love you.”

“Then you should command me to marry her, Sire.”

“How can I do that, my lord?”

“You are the King. Your Majesty has only to command. Tell me her name, Sire.”

“It is my stepmother, the Queen.”

“But…I love her. How did you know? Your Majesty, you are most astute! If I might choose from all the ladies in this land…nay, in all the world, I would choose Queen Katharine. So Your Grace commands me to marry her?”

“Yes,” said the King. “I do.”

Seymour knelt and kissed his hand.

“And none dare disobey the King’s command!” he said with a wink, and they laughed together.

“I shall be glad,” said Edward, “when I have a wife.”

“I know the very one for you. I know the lady of your choice.”

“Who then?”

“The Lady Jane Grey.”

“I love her dearly,” admitted Edward. “It would be wonderful to have her with me always. I am so lonely sometimes.”

“I cannot command Your Majesty to marry, as Your Majesty commands me.”

“But if you could, Uncle Thomas, would you command me to marry Jane?”

“I would, dearest nephew. But as I cannot, I will do everything within my power to bring about the match.”

“How will you do that?”

“As yet I cannot say. But, by God’s precious soul, I will do my utmost. There! You have my oath on it.”

They laughed together and the pleasant interview continued until some of the King’s ministers demanded an audience.

Seymour left, promising the King to return soon. He was pleased with the results of his little game. He had received the King’s consent to his marriage; and it would certainly be in the interests of the Reformed Party, to which, for political reasons the Seymours belonged, to have the King married to Lady Jane Grey, for little Jane had been brought up in the reformed faith, and the Catholic influence must be suppressed.

Seymour’s thoughts were merry as he rode to Chelsea to spend the night with his wife.

WHEN THE COURT HEARD the news of the marriage of the Dowager Queen and Lord Sudley it was deeply shocked.

Both the Admiral and the Queen were in disgrace.

This was the worst breach of royal etiquette since Mary Tudor, Henry’s sister, had married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, in such haste after the death of her husband, the King of France. It was remembered that Henry the Eighth had married Katharine Parr quite as soon after the death of Lord Latimer, but he was a King and all-powerful. Such as the Admiral and Katharine Parr should be taught that they could not take the law into their own hands.

Seymour pleaded that he had the King’s consent.

Edward said with dignity that this was so. He had desired the marriage; and, supported by and supporting the two people he loved so dearly, he took on new dignity and authority. He was the son of his father when he told the Council that he approved of the marriage and that it would be as well for the gentlemen to remember that he was their King.

The most furious person at court—with the exception of Elizabeth, who had taught herself to keep quiet when it was necessary to do so—was Anne Stanhope, Duchess of Somerset, the wife of the elder Seymour brother.

She had hated Katharine Parr ever since the death of the King.

It was ironical, she declared, it was ridiculous that the woman should take precedence of her. She was the wife of the Protector, the true governor of England; and because of Katharine Parr’s marriage to the late King, she was the first lady in the land. The Duchess recognized that the Princesses Mary and Elizabeth, and the King’s divorced wife, Anne of Cleves, must have precedence; that was understood. But that Katharine Parr, who was now but the wife of her husband’s younger brother, should do so, was monstrous.

She faced her husband when she heard the news and, though fully acquainted with her turbulent moods, never had Edward Seymour seen her so furious.

“The Dowager Queen!” she cried. “And who is this Dowager Queen? Katharine Parr! King Henry the Eighth married her in his doting days when he had brought himself so low by his cruelty and his lust that no lady of honor would venture near him. And I … I, my lord, must give place to her! Once she was Latimer’s widow; now she is the wife of your brother…your young brother…and yet she is placed above me. Methinks we shall have to ask Master Admiral to teach his wife good manners. And if he will not, then I swear I will.”

The astute Protector, both calm and cold, ever ready to see an advantage and be on the spot to take it a second or two before a rival could do so, was yet gentle with his Duchess.

“Anne,” he pleaded, “be calm. Nothing can be done at this moment. You must accept this state of affairs. She has married Thomas, and, no matter what we do, we cannot prevent that.”

“Do you not see that your brother Thomas has done this that he may become more powerful than you are?”

“I am watchful of him,” he answered serenely.

“With the Queen his wife, and the two of them preparing to mold the King, what might they not do?”

“The King is in our care. Thomas may be his uncle, but so am I. And I am the elder.”

“You have been sterner with him than Thomas has. Thomas has bribed him with gold, and bemused him with charm. Beware of your brother.”

“I am wary, dearest Anne. I am ever watchful. Thomas knows how to charm people, but there his accomplishments end. He is a fool, that brother of mine.”

“His charm has brought him much. It has already brought him the Queen.”

“I fear neither Thomas nor his Queen. I and my Duchess will be a match for them.”

She smiled. They were together in all things, bound by affection and ambition. To her he was not cold and ruthless; to him she was not proud and haughty.

“My dear,” he said, “this matter of marriage has set me thinking. What would you say to our daughter Jane’s marrying the King? It would not be the first time a Jane Seymour sat upon the throne.”