Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! Just got back from a big conference and am recovering from exhastion, so hopefully you won't have a long wait for the next chapter. Thanks for your patience!

Chapter 10: Jane Changes His Mind

It was a long ride back to Lisvon Castle, and as they started the descent toward the town Jane had had enough of the wagon jolting over the rough road. "I can ride," he told Teresa.

"No," she said firmly.

"Yes, I can," he argued, feeling irritable as he tried to sit up and she pulled him back down into her lap. He ignored the way the stars above him seemed to spin.

"Maybe you can, but you won't. You have caused me enough heartburn for one night." Her harsh tone didn't entirely cover her exhaustion, and that as much as her tight grip on his shoulders made him relent.

"Sorry," he murmured, focusing on her face. She was lovely in the moonlight, but her expression was tense and unhappy. He knew that despite her soothing words earlier, she had no idea what to do next.

Neither did he. Yet.

"Just lie still. I want Dr. Steiner to look at you before we do anything else."

He sighed. "Tell me what happened."

"I already did."

"To you. Did everything go as planned?"

She hesitated just long enough to make him suspicious. "Yes. Wylie rounded up the horses and we met him at the gate. He rode Midnight down to the tavern once we knew we needed something to carry you home. I think you owe him another bonus."

"I'm happy to reward him," Jane replied. "What happened to upset you?"

"John was furious. He sent his stable hands in to bring out the tack after all the horses got out, even though I told him it wasn't safe. Do you remember the boy we met when we arrived? He got trapped in the flames and burned to death."

Jane covered her hand with his, squeezing. "It wasn't your fault."

"I agreed to the plan, so yes, it was. Todd Johnson was my subject and therefore my responsibility."

"It was my plan. The responsibility is mine. I'll pay for his funeral. Did he have any family?"

"I don't know. I'll find out."

"Teresa," he said gently. "You did what you could when you warned John. He's the one who decided a few saddles were worth more than a human life to him."

She swallowed, then whispered, "That's what he thought. He told me servants were cheap, but good saddles and harnesses aren't. I...I think there was something else in the stables, though. Something that upset him to lose, that made him so angry. If he finds out what we did, I'm worried about what he'll do in revenge."

"He already wants us dead," Jane pointed out.

Teresa sighed. "I always knew he wasn't a good man, but now...I can't let him take the throne. I can't leave my people in his power. Especially the ones who've served me so loyally. He wouldn't leave them in peace."

"No, he wouldn't."

"If..." She took a deep breath. "You seem to have money. If something happens to me, will you help them get out of the kingdom? At least Cho, Rigsby, and Grace? And Wylie? I think Father Minelli would be safe, since he's under the church's protection."

"Nothing's going to happen to you," he said.

"You can't promise that. Please, Patrick." She bit her lip and looked away, trying to compose herself.

"All right. If the worst happens I'll do my best to get them all out of his reach," Jane promised.

"Thank you," she whispered. She was silent for a moment, then gave a watery chuckle. "My marriage contract calls for Frederick to be my heir if I die without issue. I don't expect John and Bertram would let it stand, but just so you know, you could take the throne with my goodwill."

Jane nearly choked, imagining himself with a real job, and a demanding, life-long one at that. "You belong on the throne, not me. Wait. The marriage contract isn't in force until the ceremony, is it?"

"No. But now we either have to go through with it or you have to disappear. We have no good excuse to delay again." Sensing his consternation, she stroked his hair. "Don't worry about it right now. We'll talk it all out tomorrow, when you're feeling better."

Disappearing in a kingdom where he'd been hailed as the prince would be difficult, Jane knew. And he couldn't leave altogether until he'd dealt with Red John. Not to mention the fact that being stood up practically at the altar would cause Teresa a great deal of trouble.

He'd resolved not to go through with the wedding, but that was when Teresa believed he was the prince. If she was in on the con, he wouldn't be harming her. The marriage wouldn't be real since he'd be using another man's name, so she'd be free to marry when this was over.

"You mean you've already decided what's going to happen but you don't want to argue where we might be overheard," he grumbled.

She gave him a reproving look. "I don't make it a habit to argue with people with head injuries. Just rest now. After the doctor's had a look at you and we've both gotten some sleep, we'll decide what to do next."

"It's a tactical error to give your opponent time to marshal his arguments against you," Jane pointed out, partly to tease her and partly because she needed to learn to be sneaky.

"Are you my opponent?" she asked softly.

Jane sighed. "No. Of course not."

She smiled down at him. "Then hush."

mmm

Jane dozed off and on for the rest of the journey. When they reached the castle courtyard, Teresa helped him out of the wagon, insisting that he lean on her as they went up to his rooms.

Partridge was waiting, but Teresa took charge, settling Jane on his bed and beginning to unbutton his shirt. "Teresa," Jane protested. "Stop that. That's Partridge's job."

"I raised two boys. You haven't got anything I haven't seen," she retorted.

"Nevertheless," Jane said more firmly, taking hold of her hands, "I intend to preserve my modesty until the wedding night. Please go into the next room and let Partridge help me into my sleepwear."

Teresa blushed a little as she realized they had an audience. "If you insist," she said stiffly.

She turned and left. Jane was in too much pain to deal with his valet's smirk, but he made a note to do so later.

He had barely made it into his nightshirt, crawled beneath the covers, and dismissed Partridge when Dr. Steiner came in. Teresa was on his heels, apparently still in full hovering mode. She would be a fantastic, if slightly overprotective, mother, Jane thought, trying not to feel wistful.

"What happened?" Steiner asked.

"I lost my balance and fell down some stairs," Jane replied. That was true, after all, just not the whole truth.

Teresa added, "He was unconscious for several minutes."

"Hm." Steiner probed at the back of Jane's head, none too gently. Jane yelped as he found the raised bump. "Hold still," Steiner ordered.

"Stop poking at it," Jane snapped. "Ow!"

Steiner stood back, frowning. "Get some rest and you'll be fine. You'll probably have a headache tomorrow, so you may want to take it easy."

Teresa came forward to sit on the edge of his bed. "Thank you, doctor. You'll look in on him in the morning." It was pointedly not a question.

"Yes, your majesty," he replied, bowing slightly before leaving.

Grace came in, carrying a basin and washcloth. "Here's some lavender water. What else can I get?" She soaked the washcloth in the water, wrung it out, and handed it to Teresa, who gently applied it to Jane's forehead. He had to admit the cool cloth and scent of lavender was soothing.

"Tea?" he asked plaintively.

"Weak tea, with milk," Teresa told Grace, who nodded and left.

"You're exhausted," Jane said softly, able to see the signs of stress on her face now that they were in the light.

"I'm fine."

"Go to bed, Teresa."

"I'll just stay til you're asleep," she replied. He marveled at how she managed to sound so stubborn and so tender at the same time.

"Suit yourself," he yawned.

mmm

He suspected Grace slipped laudanum or something into his tea, because he drifted off to sleep despite the pain and didn't wake until morning. Partridge brought in his breakfast, smiling. "You look much better this morning. Last night I thought the castle was about to acquire another ghost."

"No such thing as ghosts," Jane muttered, reaching for the teacup. Either his senses were disordered, or someone who knew what a cup of tea was supposed to taste like had brewed his this morning. "Mm."

"Like it? You should. Not every man gets to drink tea brewed by a queen," Partridge said.

"What?"

"She was in and out of here all night, checking on you. Wouldn't let me go to bed. Brought your breakfast up herself and told me to let her know when you were done eating."

It seemed Teresa was a regular mother hen, Jane thought. Keeping a good eye on her prospective groom was merely sensible, but brewing his tea was an act of genuine affection. Having lost the brothers she'd devoted her life to, it wasn't surprising she was focusing her attention on him, in the absence of the real prince.

As he ate, he wondered if she could have made Frederick love her after all. She was certainly lovable; he defied any man alive not to fall for her if she looked at him the way she'd been looking at Jane. She had a good, pure heart, and her love would be strong and true. He hoped she would find someone to marry who was worthy of it.

Of course, first they'd have to devise a way to get rid of her fake husband. An accident while traveling abroad, perhaps? It would have to be immediately after he dealt with Red John; every day he spent in the role of the queen's husband would test his willpower as the temptation to take advantage of the situation grew.

Would it be so bad if he did? If the world thought she was married, nothing he did would disgrace her. He could even give her that heir she needed and spare her the need to marry again, at least for a while.

He shook his head at himself, wincing as it exacerbated the throbbing. It would be so, so easy to rationalize that. Teresa would let him, he felt sure. They could indulge their attraction, and he could make her first time a wonderful memory. She deserved to be made love to by someone who cared about her, after all. He could give her a child with both Lisvonian and Ruritanian royal blood as her heir. She could remind him what it felt like to be wanted by someone who cared for him. His blood stirred at the thought.

But that would mean he would lose another family, he realized suddenly. He'd have to leave them, never see them again except maybe from afar. The thought made his stomach roil.

No. He couldn't bear that. Leaving Teresa would be hard enough. Leaving his child was unimaginable.

"You look pale," Partridge remarked. "The doctor should be along any minute."

"I don't need him," Jane grumbled. He pushed the bed tray away. "I'm finished."

"Yes, your highness," Partridge said, removing the tray and hurrying out of the room.

Teresa came in a second later, carrying some papers. Grace, two steps behind, had a whole stack of them. "Good morning," Teresa smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "From your expression, I'd say you have a headache like the doctor predicted."

Jane tried to will his pounding head to cooperate. "You're not wrong."

She gently laid a cool hand on his forehead, which felt good. "You should stay in bed today. I have a lot of work to do, so I'd rather you stay out of trouble."

"Paperwork?" he guessed dryly.

"The kingdom runs on it," she said, shrugging. "And I got a little behind the last few days. I have to catch up, since we'll be busy tomorrow. Oh, that reminds me, the archbishop is coming for dinner. I'd put him off, but he insists on spending some time with us before the wedding."

"Do I know him?" Jane sighed.

She snorted. "You're not one to spend time in church, but you've met. Don't worry. He'll be too busy lecturing me about balancing my duties as a wife and a queen to pay much attention to you. It might make things easier if you demonstrate that you intend to be master in your own household."

"Sounds like fun," Jane said.

"It'll be a private dinner, just the three of us. Even Bret Stiles wouldn't lecture his queen in public," she said wryly. "Then in the morning, we'll breakfast separately, you with the male servants and me with the women. The ceremony will be in the Great Hall at eleven, with parliament and the nobility in attendance."

"Including John?"

"Unless he chooses to insult me by declining my invitation, yes. We'll host them all for a luncheon. After that, we'll make a procession through town, and the mayor will meet us at the Town Hall. We'll have to listen to a series of congratulatory speeches." She made a face he found adorable. "We'll drink a few toasts with the townsfolk, pass out some small gifts of coins, and head back to the castle. There won't be a ball since the court is in mourning, but we'll receive a few noble guests. I've forbidden the old custom of putting us to bed, but I'm afraid we might have to endure some off-color remarks."

Jane blew out a breath. "Is this normal?"

"I'm told it's a much lighter schedule than my parents kept on their wedding day," she said. "Why?"

"If the point of this is to produce an heir, it seems odd to make the day so strenuous that the groom is likely to suffer exhaustion-induced impotence." Jane was extremely glad he wouldn't be expected to perform after all that.

Teresa grinned at him. "It didn't bother my father, apparently. I was conceived on my parents' wedding night. Or so my mother said."

"I never realized being royalty involved so much stamina. Boredom is the worst trial to endure."

"Worse than attempted assassination? Reigning is hard. Suck it up."

He smiled, amused, and then sobered, laying his hand over hers. "Teresa. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Her eyes met his, wide with alarm. "You can't leave me in the lurch. I need you."

"I'm not going to sneak off in the night," he assured her. "I haven't finished what I need to do. But you need to think about what happens when I do."

She bit her lip, looking off to the side. "Then you'll leave."

"Yes. We need to think about how that happens."

"Do you have to?"

It took him a second to understand what she was asking. "Leave?"

"Yes." Her cheeks were rosy.

"If I don't, how can you marry for real and have that heir you need?"

"Well, I—I was thinking about what Cho said. You do have royal blood, after all. I know it would be a life built on a lie, but it could be a good one."

Jane glanced from Teresa's embarrassed, hopeful face to Grace's, expecting disapproval. But instead he found hope there too. "It's tempting," he said slowly. "But—"

"Just think about it," Teresa said quickly. "Now, we'll leave you to rest. I'll send Rigsby up to keep an eye on you."

"I don't need a babysitter," Jane protested.

"Oh, I think you do," she smiled as she got up.

mmm

Jane slept most of the day, partly because he was exhausted but mostly so he didn't have to listen to Rigsby munching. He'd never admit it, but he felt safer for the captain's company, especially since Cho and Grace stopped by frequently for updates to carry to the queen. Listening to the three of them, he reflected how much they sounded like a family. It was nice to be part of one again, even if it was only temporary.

It was nearly dark when Teresa herself came in. Jane knew it was her from the way Rigsby's chair scraped on the floor as he sprang to his feet, even before he caught the subtle scent she wore. Yawning, he rubbed at his eyes and sat up. "What time is it?"

"Dinner time," she replied, coming over to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Right as rain," he lied cheerfully.

"Good, because I don't want to entertain Archbishop Stiles on my own," she said. "Can you be ready in half an hour? He's early. Father Minelli is holding him at bay for now, but I don't think we should keep him waiting long."

"I'll do my best," Jane promised. "Where's Partridge?"

"Right outside," she smiled.

Jane chuckled. "What would you have done if I said I wasn't well enough?"

Her smile edged into a grin. "I knew you'd be bored after a day in bed. Will you behave for the archbishop?"

"I never behave for petty tyrants who use religion to cloak their nasty little need to dominate others," Jane replied. Before her look of alarm could turn into a command to stay in bed, he added, "I will, however, behave for you."

She covered her relief by rolling her eyes. "Don't be late," she called as she left.

mmm

He took a little more than half an hour, thanks to Partridge's fussing. Jane encouraged him to chat about the archbishop, apparently a great friend of the duke, so he had only himself to blame, but he felt the information was worth it.

Teresa's smile of relief as he entered the room warmed his heart. "I apologize for keeping you waiting, my dear," he told her with a smile of his own.

"I hope you are feeling better," she replied, turning her cheek for him to kiss. "You remember his grace?"

"I never forget an archbishop," Jane said. "Hello, your grace."

"It's good to see you again, my son," Stiles said. His smile had a predatory edge to it that Jane found both intriguing and admirable. He'd heard that men of high rank in the church were as crafty as any lay politician, and the way Stiles carried himself seemed to support that theory.

"I'm greatly comforted that my future wife is so devout," Jane remarked. "A family trait, I'm told?"

"Indeed," Stiles replied. "Though Prince Thomas was perhaps less concerned with the state of his soul than I could have wished. God rest him, poor boy."

They all crossed themselves, Jane a little belatedly. "And what of the Duke of Napa? Does he share the family faith?"

"Ah," Stiles said, shaking his head with an amused smile. "You mustn't listen to rumors, my son. Duke John is a member of the church in good standing. He's quite generous with his tithes and offerings, in fact."

Teresa looked unhappy. "I do my best, your grace. I hope I get some credit for helping the poor among my subjects."

"Of course, my child, of course," Stiles said. "But no matter our financial constraints, we are all obligated to share what we have in order to do God's work through His church."

"I couldn't agree more," Jane said. "And once we are married, I plan to devote some of my personal resources to just that."

"How generous of you, your highness," Stiles said, sounding pleased. "We are all praying for the success of your marriage, but additional resources will enable us to say more masses."

"And you can't have too many masses," Jane grinned.

"Absolutely."

Jane decided that he liked the wily old codger, even though it was far from certain he could be trusted to support Teresa. He glanced at her, flashing a reassuring smile at her dubious look.

Dinner was announced, to Teresa's evident relief, and Jane took her into the dining room on his arm. He was glad to see he wasn't all the way across the table from her; since this was an informal dinner, he and Stiles were seated on either side of her at the head of the table.

Teresa steered the conversation to various mutual acquaintances of hers and the archbishop's, leaving Jane free to observe and think. But over dessert, Stiles let out a sigh. "As your spiritual guardian, your majesty, I must ensure that you are entering into this most sacred of covenants fully aware of the demands it will place on you."

Jane bit down on his cheek to keep from snorting as Teresa blushed. "I'm fully informed of the, um, duties of marriage," she choked out.

"As am I," Jane put in. "I intend to put all my indiscretions behind me. At least until the first baby is on the way. And I'll be discreet then."

Teresa kicked him under the table, and he disguised a yelp of pain under a laugh.

Stiles was unperturbed. "Discretion is always wise, your highness. But of course it's different for a man. A woman, most especially a queen, must be above reproach."

"As she is," Jane said.

"Of course, of course." Stiles waved a hand. "Rumors are a curse those of us in the public eye must endure."

Teresa frowned. "What rumors?"

"I'm sorry to say it, but there are those who say you've been overly familiar with the constable in Napa."

Teresa's mouth fell open in outrage. Jane took the opportunity to laugh. "Oh, that. That was nothing, just proof of our Teresa's naïveté. She was jealous that Madame de Martins was flirting with me, so she tried to make me jealous with the constable. She's already seen the error of her ways and promised never to do it again."

Teresa glared at him but didn't refute his explanation. Stiles beamed at Jane. "How reassuring. I see that the two of you have already figured out the secret to a happy marriage."

Jane couldn't resist looking at Teresa, who was trying desperately to hang on to her composure. He winked, and her tightly compressed lips pulled into a brief smile.

"Yes," he said. "I'm always right. Except when she is."

"Very diplomatic," Stiles chuckled.

Teresa stood. "It's been a pleasure, your grace, but if you and his highness will excuse me, I will retire."

They stood too, Jane taking her hand as he dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Of course. Big day tomorrow. Sleep well, my dear."

"You too," she said, squeezing his hand. "Don't stay up too late."

"I'm right behind you," Jane assured her, squeezing back.

When she was gone, Jane and Stiles sat down again. Jane prepared himself for a difficult conversation, since he suspected the archbishop knew he wasn't the prince. It was hard to tell with such a practiced liar, of course, but the odds weren't in Jane's favor.

"It is always gratifying," Stiles said once the port was poured, "to see a young man leave behind the dissolute ways of his youth and become the man he was meant to be. Marriage will be the making of you, I predict."

Well, that was ambiguous, Jane thought. "I owe it all to her majesty."

"Of course. Quite a woman, our queen. Intelligent, gracious, and devout. And more beautiful than advertised."

A test? Jane knew perfectly well that the prince hadn't admired Teresa. "She definitely improves on further acquaintance. I think we will make a good team. This kingdom needs strong leadership and some modern economic policy, so we have our work cut out for us."

"I had no idea you were interested in economics."

"Only a fool isn't interested in his own income. And I am not a fool." Jane let his teeth show in his smile.

"I am glad to hear it. Pity the kingdom with a fool on the throne."

"Exactly," Jane said. "And I gather the old king wasn't exactly diligent. So we have some cleaning up to do."

"Alas, our poor King was never the same after he lost his wife. It's a terrible thing to lose both one's soulmate and child all in one horrible night."

"Yes, it is." Jane held Stiles' gaze.

"It can make a man crumble under the weight of guilt and self-loathing. It can untether him from his place in the world." Stiles gave a theatrical sigh. "The queen doesn't need another man like that in her life."

"No, she doesn't," Jane agreed. He felt sure Stiles was addressing Patrick Jane—and knew more about him than Jane was comfortable with. "Which is why it's good that she won't."

"I'm very glad to hear it." Stiles smiled, then clapped his hands together. "Well. Let's get some sleep before the big day, shall we?"

"An excellent idea," Jane agreed. But as he walked to his room, he suspected sleep wasn't what he'd be doing tonight. Instead, he'd be trying to figure out why on earth an archbishop would be willing to go through with a fake wedding between a fake prince and his queen.

Whatever the answer, he was sure he wouldn't like it.

A/N: Next up, the wedding day!