Brick by brick, the freshly laid road to Leicestershire provided an unusually smooth journey for the Duke of Whitehaven's ornate carriage. Winter had finally released its grip on England, allowing early spring flowers to dot the countryside with hesitant splashes of color against the muddy landscape. Inside the carriage, warm tapestries and thick cushions insulated against the lingering March chill.
Bobby sat across from Jane Grey, watching her slender fingers absently trace the embroidered pattern on her traveling cloak. Her dark copper hair had been arranged in an elegant style beneath a modest cap adorned with small pearls—formal enough for travel yet comfortable for the long journey. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the carriage windows, casting a warm glow across her features as she gazed thoughtfully at the passing countryside.
"You've been strangely quiet," Jane observed, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them for the past several miles. "Is something troubling you?"
Bobby's lips curved into a slight smile. "I was simply enjoying the serenity," he replied. "The countryside, the steady rhythm of the carriage... the beauty sitting across from me."
Jane's cheeks flushed immediately at the compliment. "Stop that," she scolded, though the slight upturn of her lips betrayed her pleasure. "We'll be at Bradgate soon. My family will expect you to be properly formal, not... whatever this is."
"Rest assured, I'll be on my best behavior," Bobby promised, his tone softening. "The Duke of Whitehaven, renowned for his scientific innovations and commercial enterprises, paying proper respect to the illustrious Grey family."
Jane giggled, the sound surprisingly youthful from someone who'd once worn England's crown. "You can be quite charming when you wish, can't you? And intellectual. And mysterious. And—"
"And inappropriate," Bobby interrupted gently. "Speaking of which, it's highly improper for us to be traveling in the same carriage. I wished to make the best possible impression on your household."
"You volunteered to ride in this carriage," Jane pointed out.
"True. As inappropriate as riding together might be, it's considerably less scandalous than your frequent visits to Whitehaven—which I believe everyone at court has noticed by now."
Jane straightened, her expression suddenly serious. "Is that why you're doing this? Why you're coming to meet my family formally? Because you feel obligated to protect my reputation?"
The direct question caught Bobby off-guard. He studied her face, noting the uncertainty behind her carefully controlled expression. This brilliant young woman had faced extraordinary circumstances with remarkable fortitude, yet still harbored the insecurities natural to her age and position.
"I just dug my own grave, didn't I?" Bobby asked with a self-deprecating smile.
"Rather skillfully," Jane agreed, though her eyes remained serious. "Please answer the question."
Bobby leaned forward, his expression softening. "I'm going to marry you, Jane Grey, because I love you for all that you are—your brilliant mind, your gentle heart, your extraordinary resilience in the face of circumstances that would have broken lesser souls." He reached across the small space between them, taking her hand in his. "I will do right by you and honor your faith in every way."
Jane stared at him, momentarily speechless. The plain declaration—devoid of his usual cryptic mannerisms or philosophical detachment—clearly surprised her. Before she could formulate a response, the carriage slowed as they approached the gates of Bradgate Park.
Bobby squeezed her hand gently before releasing it, preparing to assume the formal demeanor expected for their arrival. As he straightened his attire, he reflected on the decision that had brought him to this moment.
Marriage to Jane had become the obvious solution to multiple problems. Whether she became Lady Kestrel or not wouldn't change the fundamental reality of his eventual quantum displacement, but as his wife, she would have full access to his resources and protection when he inevitably vanished from her life. He had considered Elizabeth briefly, but the new Queen required someone who could provide lasting stability—not a partner destined to disappear.
Jane needed him more. And if he was being entirely honest with himself, perhaps he needed her too.
The carriage rolled to a stop before Bradgate House, an imposing manor constructed of red brick with imposing stone gables and tall chimneys. The Grey family's ancestral home stood nestled among ancient oak trees, many of which had witnessed generations of noble children playing beneath their sprawling branches.
Through the carriage window, Bobby observed the welcoming party assembled on the manor's front steps. Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, stood at the forefront with his wife Frances Grey beside him. Their two younger daughters, Ladies Katherine and Mary, flanked their parents, while a collection of household staff maintained a respectful formation behind the family.
"Ready?" Jane asked softly as the footman opened the carriage door.
Bobby offered his most reassuring smile. "Absolutely."
He descended first, turning to offer his hand as Jane emerged from the carriage. The spring air carried a pleasant crispness, scented with damp earth and new growth from the surrounding parkland. Together, they approached the waiting family with measured steps.
"Father, Mother," Jane greeted with a formal curtsy. "May I present Robert Kestrel, Duke of Whitehaven."
Bobby bowed with precise court etiquette. "Your Grace, Lady Frances. I'm honored by your invitation to Bradgate."
Henry Grey's expression remained carefully neutral, though the tightness around his eyes suggested lingering tension from their previous encounter at Whitehaven months earlier. "Duke Whitehaven," he acknowledged with a stiff nod. "Your elevation comes with unprecedented speed, though not surprising given the new Queen's evident... regard for you."
The careful emphasis on "regard" carried clear implication—court gossip about Bobby's relationship with Elizabeth had clearly reached Leicestershire. Bobby maintained a pleasant expression despite the subtle barb.
"Her Majesty values innovation," he replied diplomatically. "Whitehaven's contributions to England's agricultural and maritime advancements warranted recognition."
Frances Grey stepped forward, her calculating gaze making no pretense of warm welcome. At thirty-seven, she remained an imposing figure despite having borne three children. Her Tudor bloodline showed clearly in her features, though her expression lacked the warmth Jane occasionally displayed.
"We're pleased to welcome England's newest duke," Frances said, her tone suggesting precisely the opposite. "Though your elevation makes our daughter's frequent visits to Whitehaven all the more... noteworthy."
"Mother," Jane murmured, a warning note in her voice.
Bobby inclined his head respectfully. "I assure you, Lady Frances, your daughter's presence at Whitehaven has been entirely proper, typically in conjunction with educational initiatives benefiting the council."
Frances's thin smile acknowledged the diplomatic response without accepting it. "Of course. Jane's intellectual pursuits have always been... excessive."
Before the awkward moment could stretch further, Jane's sisters moved forward with evident excitement.
"Your Grace," Katherine Grey said with a perfect curtsy. At fourteen, she showed signs of developing greater beauty than her elder sister, though her eyes lacked Jane's distinctive intelligence. "We've heard so much about you."
"All good things, I hope," Bobby replied with a warm smile.
Little Mary Grey, just nine years old, peered up at him with undisguised curiosity. Unlike her sisters, Mary had been born with a condition that stunted her growth and slightly curved her spine. "Is it true you have a library bigger than the King's?" she asked, dispensing with formal greeting entirely.
"Mary!" Frances scolded sharply. "Mind your manners."
"It's quite alright," Bobby assured them. "Lady Mary asks an excellent question." He knelt to address the young girl directly. "Whitehaven's library focuses on different subjects than the royal collection—more scientific texts and practical manuals, fewer theological treatises and historical documents. But yes, it's grown rather large."
Mary's eyes widened with delight at being taken seriously. "Jane says you have books nobody else in England has ever seen."
"Jane says many things," Frances interrupted before Bobby could respond. "Now, let's not keep our distinguished guest standing in the courtyard. The wind grows sharper as evening approaches."
Henry Grey motioned toward the manor's entrance. "Indeed. We've prepared chambers for your stay, Your Grace. Your men may stable your horses and refresh themselves in the servants' quarters."
Bobby nodded to Captain Phillips, who commanded his personal guard for this journey due to Jane's presence as well. The captain immediately began directing the small retinue of Whitehaven men-at-arms toward the stables with military precision.
As they entered Bradgate House, Bobby noted how the interior reflected the Grey family's complicated status—the furnishings and tapestries showcased considerable wealth, yet lacked the cutting-edge fashions seen at Hampton Court or Greenwich. Clearly, the family's fortunes had declined somewhat since Henry Grey's involvement in Jane's brief reign.
"Cook has prepared a special dinner in your honor," Frances informed Bobby as they moved through the great hall. "Though nothing approaching the exotic fare you likely enjoy at Whitehaven."
"Simple country cooking often proves most satisfying," Bobby replied diplomatically. "I look forward to experiencing Bradgate's hospitality."
A servingman approached, bowing deeply. "If Your Grace wishes to refresh himself after the journey, chambers have been prepared in the east wing."
Bobby nodded gratefully. "Thank you. I brought several items from Whitehaven that I hope the family might accept as tokens of appreciation for their hospitality."
"Gifts?" Katherine perked up immediately. "What sort of gifts?"
Jane shot her sister a reproving look. "Katherine, please."
Bobby chuckled. "It's quite alright. I enjoy giving gifts nearly as much as creating them." He gestured toward his servants, who had begun bringing in several carefully wrapped packages. "Perhaps after dinner would be an appropriate time for their presentation?"
Henry Grey nodded with grudging approval. "Most generous, Your Grace. We shall reconvene for the evening meal in two hours."
As the family dispersed to prepare for dinner, Jane lingered briefly, catching Bobby's eye with a meaningful look that promised continued conversation when circumstances permitted. Then she too departed, following her mother and sisters toward the family's private chambers.
Bobby allowed the servant to guide him toward the guest quarters, mentally preparing himself for an evening of careful navigation through the treacherous waters of family politics. The Grey household—particularly Frances with her Tudor ambitions and Henry with his wounded pride—would require delicate handling.
Yet as he settled into his appointed chambers, Bobby felt an unexpected sense of anticipation beneath his calculated preparations. Despite the awkwardness and tension, he was seeing Jane in her natural environment, among her family—experiencing a fundamental aspect of human connection.
-----------
The Grey family dining hall gleamed with polished silver and crystal goblets, illuminated by dozens of beeswax candles that cast a warm glow across the long oak table. Tapestries depicting hunting scenes adorned the walls, interspersed with family portraits showcasing the Grey lineage and their royal connections.
Bobby had changed into formal dinner attire—a rich midnight blue doublet embroidered with silver thread, paired with black velvet breeches and a simple ruff collar. He had deliberately chosen clothing that displayed appropriate wealth without ostentatious display that might further aggravate Henry Grey's evident sensitivity regarding status.
When Jane entered, Bobby momentarily forgot the diplomatic calculations that had occupied his mind. She had changed into a gown of deep burgundy with delicate gold embroidery along the bodice and cuffs. Her dark copper hair had been arranged in an elegant style that framed her face perfectly, adorned with a simple gold circlet appropriate to her status as a royal cousin.
"You look absolutely radiant," Bobby said quietly as she approached.
Jane's cheeks colored at the compliment. "Thank you. This gown was a gift from Elizabeth—from Her Majesty, I should say—after her coronation planning began."
"A generous gesture considering your complex history," Bobby observed.
Jane nodded. "Elizabeth proves remarkably gracious in victory. She understands I was merely Northumberland's puppet."
Before they could continue this line of conversation, the rest of the family arrived. Dinner proceeded with formal efficiency as servants presented course after course: roasted capon with herb stuffing, venison in wine sauce, fresh bread with churned butter, and early spring vegetables from Bradgate's gardens. Wine flowed freely, though Bobby noted Jane drank sparingly, maintaining sharp focus on the conversation.
"Your commercial ventures continue expanding at remarkable pace," Henry Grey observed midway through the meal, his tone suggesting both admiration and suspicion. "Particularly impressive given your relatively recent arrival in England. Was it only two years?"
"Approximately," Bobby responded with a casual smile, as if the question weren't a thinly veiled probe into his mysterious background. "Though I've found time passes differently when one is engaged in meaningful pursuits. Commercial ventures represent just one aspect of my interests in England."
"And what would you consider your primary interest, Duke Whitehaven?" Frances asked, her knife slicing precisely through the venison on her plate.
Bobby took a measured sip of wine. "Scientific advancement, Lady Frances. England possesses extraordinary potential for innovation that remains largely untapped. My goal has been to accelerate this development through practical applications."
"Such as?" Henry pressed.
"The agricultural techniques at Whitehaven have increased crop yields by nearly forty percent compared to traditional methods," Bobby explained. "Crop rotation, soil enrichment, hybridization of plant varieties—these approaches could transform England's food production if implemented more broadly."
Jane's eyes brightened with enthusiasm. "Robert has designed a new irrigation system that allows water distribution across fields without manual labor. The principles derive from ancient Roman aqueducts but with significant improvements."
"Fascinating," Henry responded without genuine interest. His gaze remained fixed on Bobby. "Yet such innovations, while undoubtedly valuable, hardly explain your enormous wealth. Your shipbuilding contracts alone generate more revenue than most established noble houses."
Bobby nodded, acknowledging the direct challenge. "Strategic investment coupled with efficient management yields significant returns, Your Grace. I've found that treating workers with dignity and fair compensation results in superior productivity."
"How charmingly idealistic," Frances commented with barely concealed skepticism. "Though I imagine Her Majesty's evident favor hasn't hindered your commercial success."
"Mother," Jane interjected, her voice carrying a rare edge of irritation.
Bobby placed a calming hand over Jane's briefly before addressing Frances directly. "The Queen supports innovation throughout her realm regardless of personal connections. My ventures succeed or fail based on their merits, not royal intervention."
Katherine, seemingly oblivious to the underlying tension, leaned forward eagerly. "Is it true you have a factory that makes silk without silkworms? Jane mentioned something about special machines."
"Not quite," Bobby answered with genuine warmth toward the younger Grey daughter. "We've developed more efficient looms that create finer silk fabrics from traditional thread. The process requires fewer workers while producing superior quality."
"Which naturally raises questions about your workforce," Henry observed. "Displacing traditional craftsmen seems problematic despite efficiency gains."
For the first time, Bobby's expression showed a flash of real passion beneath his diplomatic veneer. "Every worker displaced by mechanical innovation at Whitehaven receives either alternative employment or substantial compensation. Progress need not come at human expense."
Jane nodded, pride evident in her expression. "Robert's wool processing facility in Kent employs twice as many locals as previous operations, despite producing three times the output."
"Most impressive," Frances said, setting down her goblet with deliberate precision. "Though one wonders what such extraordinary business acumen might contribute to a family alliance, should such an arrangement materialize."
The implication hung with brazen transparency over the table. Jane's eyes widened slightly before dropping to her plate, while Katherine and little Mary exchanged curious glances.
"Any formal alliance would naturally benefit both parties," Bobby replied carefully. "Though I consider Jane's extraordinary mind and character the true treasures of the Grey family, regardless of political or financial considerations."
Frances's lips thinned with evident disappointment at this diplomatic sidestep. "Jane's intellectual pursuits, while admirable in certain contexts, hardly represent core considerations for establishing advantageous connections. Katherine, perhaps, shows greater aptitude for traditional feminine accomplishments that might better complement a man of your... position."
"Mother!" Jane gasped, shock momentarily overriding her practiced composure.
Bobby's expression remained pleasant despite the outrageous suggestion that Frances would offer her younger daughter instead. "I find Jane's combination of intellectual brilliance and personal integrity precisely what I most value, Lady Frances. Her capabilities perfectly align with my interests."
"Quite right," Henry interjected, seemingly uncomfortable with his wife's transparent maneuvering. "Jane has always been... exceptional in her scholarly inclinations. Perhaps uniquely suited to appreciate your various... innovations."
The conversation shifted to safer topics as servers cleared the main course and presented desserts—poached pears in spiced wine and delicate pastries filled with almond cream. Throughout the remainder of the meal, Bobby noted the careful dance of family dynamics at play. Henry's ambition manifested more subtly than his wife's brazen calculations, but both clearly viewed their eldest daughter primarily as a political asset rather than an autonomous person.
When dinner concluded, the family moved to the great hall where a fire roared in the massive stone hearth. Bobby's servants brought forward the gifts he had mentioned earlier—carefully wrapped packages of varying sizes arranged on a small table.
"I hope these tokens might bring some small pleasure to Bradgate," Bobby said, gesturing toward the packages. "Each selected with a specific recipient in mind."
Katherine clapped her hands with undisguised excitement. "How delightful! May we open them now?"
"Katherine," Frances scolded, though her own eyes betrayed interest in the elegantly wrapped parcels.
"Please," Bobby encouraged. "Lady Katherine, perhaps you might like to begin?"
The fourteen-year-old needed no further invitation. She selected a rectangular package tied with silver ribbon and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a small wooden box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. When she opened it, a delicate melody began playing—a miniature musical mechanism unlike anything previously seen in England.
"It's enchanting!" Katherine gasped, bringing the musical box closer to her ear. "How does it make such perfect music without musicians?"
"A series of precisely tuned metal prongs struck by pins on a rotating cylinder," Bobby explained. "Based on principles developed by clockmakers in Switzerland, though significantly refined."
Young Mary received a beautifully illustrated book of botanical drawings—plants from across Europe and beyond, each rendered with extraordinary detail and vivid colors achieved through innovative printing techniques developed at Whitehaven. The child's eyes widened with delight as she carefully turned the thick parchment pages.
"Look, Mother!" Mary exclaimed. "The flowers seem real enough to touch!"
For Henry, Bobby had selected a finely crafted pocket watch with remarkable innovations—a spring mechanism that maintained significantly more consistent time than traditional designs, housed in a gold case bearing the Grey family crest.
"Extraordinary craftsmanship," Henry acknowledged, examining the timepiece with genuine appreciation. "I've seen nothing comparable even at court."
Frances received an elegant necklace of perfectly matched pearls with an unusual clasp mechanism that allowed the wearer to fasten it without assistance—a small but significant innovation for a woman who clearly valued independence and control.
"Most thoughtful," Frances murmured, her fingers tracing the lustrous pearls. "Though one wonders what Bradgate might possibly offer in return for such... generosity."
Bobby smiled pleasantly. "The pleasure of your daughter's company more than compensates for any material gifts."
Jane's gift remained last—a small package wrapped in deep blue silk and tied with gold thread. When she unwrapped it, the room fell momentarily silent. Inside lay a delicate bracelet unlike anything seen before in Tudor England. Seven perfectly cut gemstones—each representing a different color of the rainbow—were set in gold so finely worked it appeared almost fluid. The clasp featured an intricate mechanism that locked securely yet could be released with a simple touch in precisely the right location.
"It's extraordinary," Jane whispered, lifting the bracelet with reverent fingers. "I've never seen craftsmanship of this quality."
"The stones represent the seven liberal arts of classical education," Bobby explained as he gently took the bracelet and fastened it around her slender wrist. "Philosophy, astronomy, geometry, music, rhetoric, grammar, and logic—the foundations of knowledge that you've mastered so beautifully."
The bracelet caught the firelight, sending prismatic reflections dancing across Jane's face. Something unspoken passed between them as their eyes met—a moment of profound connection that transcended the political calculations swirling around them.
Frances cleared her throat pointedly, breaking the moment. "Such extraordinary generosity suggests serious intentions, Duke Whitehaven. Perhaps we might discuss certain... arrangements while you're visiting Bradgate?"
Henry shot his wife a warning glance before turning to Bobby with practiced diplomacy. "What my wife means to suggest, perhaps prematurely, is that your evident regard for our daughter naturally raises questions about potential formalization of your association."
"I believe such discussions would indeed prove productive," Bobby agreed smoothly. "Though perhaps not immediately following dinner? I would be honored to meet privately with Your Grace tomorrow to address these matters with appropriate consideration."
Henry nodded, seemingly satisfied with this diplomatic deferral. "Of course. These matters deserve proper attention. Tomorrow morning, then, in my study."
As the evening progressed, Bobby observed the Grey family dynamics with careful attention. Frances continued making thinly veiled references to potential alliances, while Henry maintained more subdued but equally calculated engagement. Katherine flitted between childish excitement over her musical box and attempts at sophisticated conversation clearly modeled after court behaviors she had observed during Jane's brief reign. Little Mary, less constrained by social expectations, asked wonderfully direct questions about Whitehaven's gardens and whether Bobby had ever seen a real elephant.
Throughout the evening, Jane maintained remarkable composure, navigating her family's awkward maneuvering with practiced grace. Only occasionally did Bobby catch glimpses of the frustration beneath her polished exterior—a tightening around her eyes when Frances made particularly transparent suggestions, a barely perceptible sigh when Henry discussed her as though she weren't present.
When the hour grew late, Frances rose from her chair. "We should retire. Tomorrow promises an eventful day with much to discuss." She fixed Bobby with a meaningful look. "I trust you'll find your accommodations satisfactory, Duke Whitehaven."
"I'm certain they'll prove more than adequate," Bobby replied with a courteous bow. "Thank you for your gracious hospitality."
As the family prepared to disperse for the night, Jane approached Bobby with careful formality. "Perhaps His Grace might appreciate seeing Bradgate's gardens before retiring? The night air is crisp but not unpleasant, and the moon provides adequate illumination for a brief tour."
Frances's expression sharpened with disapproval. "Jane, surely Duke Whitehaven requires rest after his journey. The gardens will remain tomorrow."
"Actually, I find a brief walk often helps clear the mind before sleep," Bobby interjected smoothly. "Lady Jane's suggestion seems most welcome, provided appropriate chaperonage, of course."
Henry hesitated, clearly weighing propriety against potential advantage in allowing his daughter private conversation with a prospective suitor of Bobby's status. "Perhaps Katherine might accompany you," he suggested as compromise.
"I would be delighted," Katherine agreed immediately, clearly excited by the prospect of continued interaction with their fascinating guest.
Jane's momentary disappointment vanished behind practiced composure. "Of course. Katherine knows the gardens nearly as well as I do."
With arrangements thus settled, Henry and Frances retired along with little Mary, leaving Jane and Katherine to escort Bobby through the manor's rear entrance toward the formal gardens. The night air carried a pleasant chill, scented with early spring blossoms and the earthy richness of recently tilled soil.
"These gardens were originally designed during Henry VII's reign," Jane explained as they walked along a gravel path bordered by carefully pruned box hedges. "Though my mother expanded them considerably after my father received his dukedom."
Moonlight bathed the gardens in ethereal silver, transforming the orderly landscape into something almost magical. Formal patterns of boxwood created geometric shapes around central fountains, now silent for the night. Beyond these structured areas, the garden transitioned into more naturalistic landscapes that eventually merged with Bradgate Park's ancient woodlands.
Katherine, initially enthusiastic about joining them, soon began shivering in the night air despite her cloak. "Perhaps I should return inside," she suggested after they had walked for several minutes. "The evening grows colder than I anticipated."
"You cannot leave us unchaperoned," Jane reminded her with exaggerated propriety that barely concealed her desire for precisely that outcome.
Bobby produced a small flask from his doublet. "Perhaps this might help ward off the chill, Lady Katherine? A special blended tea from the Orient, preserved with honey and spices."
Katherine accepted the flask gratefully, taking a small sip before her eyes widened with pleasure. "It's delicious! Like drinking summer sunshine."
The warm beverage seemed to revitalize her briefly, but as they continued walking, Katherine's yawns became increasingly frequent and poorly concealed.
"You're exhausted, Katherine," Jane observed with sisterly concern that might have been slightly exaggerated. "Perhaps you should return to the house while Duke Whitehaven and I complete one circuit of the moonlight garden? We'll remain in clear view of the house."
Katherine hesitated, clearly torn between duty and comfort. "Father would be displeased..."
"We'll return momentarily," Jane assured her. "Just one short circuit of the rose garden. You can watch us from the terrace doors if you're concerned."
After another moment's hesitation, Katherine nodded. "Very well. But please don't tarry. Mother would be furious if she discovered us breaking propriety."
Once Katherine had retreated toward the house, Jane turned to Bobby with visible relief. "Thank God. I thought she'd never leave."
Bobby chuckled softly. "Your sister means well."
"All my family means well, in their fashion," Jane sighed, taking his arm as they continued along the moonlit path. "Though their definition of 'well' rarely aligns with my preferences."
They walked in comfortable silence for several moments, following the path deeper into the garden where ancient yew hedges created sheltered alcoves designed for private conversation during summer gatherings. The March night remained chilly but not unbearably so, their breath forming small clouds that dissipated in the moonlight.
"I must apologize for my mother's behavior," Jane said finally, her voice low despite the distance from the house. "She's always been... ambitious."
"No apology necessary," Bobby assured her. "Parents naturally wish advantages for their children. Your mother simply expresses this desire more... transparently than most."
Jane laughed softly. "That's a diplomatic way of describing her mercenary calculations." She glanced toward the distant manor house before continuing. "When I briefly wore the crown, she became absolutely insufferable—demanding precedence over every lady at court, instructing me on royal prerogatives she suddenly claimed expertise in, complaining that she had been passed over despite her Tudor blood."
"She does share the Tudor ambition," Bobby observed.
"Along with the Tudor temper," Jane added with surprising candidness. "Though she lacks the Tudor intellect, at least as manifested in the current Queen."
They reached a small enclosed garden where white roses would bloom in summer. Stone benches positioned between the dormant bushes offered seating beneath the open sky, now brilliantly illuminated with stars thanks to the clear night. Jane guided Bobby to one of these benches, situated in deep shadow beneath a towering yew.
"Will you tell my father tomorrow that you intend to marry me?" she asked directly once they were seated, her question hanging between them in the cold night air.
"If that remains your wish," Bobby replied, studying her face in the silver moonlight. "Though I expect he'll focus primarily on financial arrangements rather than emotional considerations."
Jane nodded, a sad smile touching her lips. "Of course. My worth has always been calculated in political advantage rather than personal happiness." She turned to face him more directly. "That's why you matter so much to me, Robert. You're the only person who has ever valued me for myself—my mind, my character—rather than my proximity to the throne or potential marital value."
The vulnerability in her voice struck Bobby with unexpected force. Despite her extraordinary intellect and remarkable composure, Jane Grey remained a young woman barely past seventeen, shaped by parents who viewed her primarily as a political asset.
"You deserve to be valued for your exceptional qualities," he told her softly, taking her hand between his. The bracelet he had given her earlier caught the moonlight, sending prismatic reflections across their joined hands. "Your mind alone outshines every jewel in England's crown."
Jane leaned closer, her eyes searching his face. "I still can't quite believe you've chosen me when you could have had..." She hesitated, diplomatic even in this private moment. "When others might have welcomed your attention."
Bobby understood her unspoken reference to Elizabeth, whose regard for him had been poorly concealed despite her new royal status. "There was never really any choice," he said simply. "From our first conversation at the French ambassador's gathering, I recognized something extraordinary in you."
Jane's face softened with the memory. "You were the only one who didn't speak to me as though I were a particularly clever child performing tricks. You challenged my interpretation of Plato's Republic and actually listened to my response."
"Because your analysis was more insightful than anything I'd heard from scholars three times your age," Bobby replied, his thumb tracing idle patterns across her palm.
Jane's breathing quickened slightly at his touch. "My parents will expect significant financial arrangements," she warned, returning to practical matters despite the intimate moment. "Father's involvement in my brief reign depleted much of our family resources, and Mother has expensive tastes that haven't adjusted to our reduced circumstances."
"I expected as much," Bobby acknowledged. "Though I suspect they'll find my offer exceeds their expectations. I care nothing for material wealth beyond its utility in furthering worthwhile endeavors."
A slight breeze stirred the garden, causing Jane to shiver despite her heavy cloak. Bobby moved closer, offering his arm around her shoulders. She hesitated only briefly before leaning against him, her head coming to rest naturally against his shoulder.
"We should return soon," she murmured without making any move to leave. "Katherine will report our continued absence if we linger too long."
"A few moments more," Bobby suggested, savoring the simple human connection of holding her close. For all his extraordinary abilities and vast knowledge spanning billions of years, this basic comfort of shared warmth and companionship remained among life's most profound pleasures.
Jane sighed contentedly, her body relaxing against his. "It feels strange—being here with you like this. In the gardens where I played as a child, now contemplating marriage to the most extraordinary man in England."
"Just a man," Bobby corrected gentle-wryly. "With certain advantages, perhaps, but fundamentally as human as anyone."
Jane tilted her face upward, moonlight illuminating her delicate features. "No, you're far more than that. I may not understand exactly what you are, but I know you're something beyond ordinary humanity." Her fingers reached up to touch his face with surprising boldness. "And yet, you've chosen me. That's the most extraordinary part."
Their eyes held in the moonlight, something profound and unspoken passing between them. Jane's lips parted slightly, her expression revealing both youthful nervousness and mature determination as she leaned closer.
Bobby hesitated, acutely aware of their precarious position. His primary reason for visiting Bradgate had been to establish formal betrothal—a respectable arrangement that would protect Jane's reputation and secure her future when his displacement inevitably occurred. Indulging physical desire, however mutual, before such arrangements were formalized could jeopardize everything.
Yet as Jane's face tilted toward his, these calculated considerations faded before the simple human connection between them. Her lips met his with tentative courage, soft and warm despite the chilly night air.
The kiss remained gentle, almost chaste compared to their previous encounters at Whitehaven. Yet it carried profound meaning—Jane initiating intimacy within her familial home, claiming her own desires despite a lifetime of being told what she should want and value.
When they finally separated, Jane's eyes remained closed for a moment, her expression one of quiet wonder. "I've thought about doing that since you said you love me," she confessed softly.
"I've thought about you doing it," Bobby acknowledged with a smile.
Jane's cheeks colored visibly even in the moonlight. "We really should return now. Katherine will send the entire household out searching for us if we stay much longer."
Bobby rose, offering his hand to help her from the bench. "Your sister seems quite devoted to propriety."
"Only when others might observe," Jane replied with surprising mischief. "Katherine maintains perfect decorum in company while sneaking into the stables to flirt with grooms when she believes no one's watching."
They began walking back toward the manor, maintaining proper distance despite their recent closeness. As they approached the terrace where light spilled from the glass doors, Jane paused.
"Whatever my father demands tomorrow, please remember I want this marriage regardless of financial arrangements," she said urgently. "I would marry you if you were a common merchant rather than a duke."
Bobby squeezed her hand gently. "I know."
Katherine waited on the terrace, her expression hovering between relief and suspicion as they approached. "You were gone ages," she complained. "I was about to send servants searching."
"The night proved more pleasant than anticipated," Jane replied with remarkable composure considering their recent activities. "Duke Whitehaven expressed particular interest in Father's experimental grafting techniques in the orchard."
Katherine's skeptical expression suggested she doubted this explanation, but she said nothing as they reentered the manor. Servants still moved quietly through the great hall, banking fires and preparing the household for night.
"I shall bid you both goodnight," Bobby said formally once they reached the main staircase. "Thank you for the delightful tour of Bradgate's impressive gardens."
Jane cursed perfectly. "We're honored by your appreciation, Your Grace. I trust you'll find your chambers comfortable."
Their eyes met briefly, conveying far more than their words could safely express in the servants' presence. Then Jane turned, following Katherine up the stairs toward the family's private apartments while Bobby proceeded toward the guest wing.
In his appointed chamber, Bobby found the fire already built up against the night's chill, warming the impressive though slightly dated room. As he prepared for sleep, his mind returned to the conversation awaiting him tomorrow morning—Henry Grey's inevitable financial demands balanced against Jane's happiness and future security.
Suffolk's ambitions would need careful management. Providing too much financial support might encourage Henry toward precisely the kind of political overreaching that had nearly cost him his head in the original timeline. Yet insufficient provision might leave Jane vulnerable if her father's future actions still led to his downfall.
Bobby sighed as he settled into the massive four-poster bed. Human families, with their complicated emotional entanglements and competing desires, represented a fascinating puzzle he had observed over countless civilizations across billions of years. Yet despite this vast experience, they still occasionally mystified him, particularly when his own emotions became involved.
As darkness approached, Bobby found himself contemplating the simple comfort of Jane leaning against him in the moonlit garden—a moment of human connection that somehow mattered more than all the cosmic wonders he had witnessed across his inconceivably long existence. Perhaps that was the true miracle: that after billions of years, he could still find profound meaning in something as simple as a young woman's kiss beneath the stars.