NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A “vibrant and fresh” ( The Atlanta Journal-Constitution ) portrait of Lady Jane Grey, the Nine Days’ Queen—the stunning first novel from the renowned author hailed as “the finest historian of English monarchical succession writing” ( The Boston Globe ) “Poignant [and] gripping.”— The Seattle Times “Enormously entertaining.”— The Washington Post I am now a condemned traitor. . . . I am to die when I have hardly begun to live. The child of a scheming father and a ruthless mother, Lady Jane Grey is born during the harrowingly turbulent period between Anne Boleyn’s beheading and the demise of Jane’s infamous great-uncle, King Henry VIII. Vexed by not having a male heir, Jane’s abusive parents connive to use their intelligent, dutiful young daughter as a pawn in a dangerous dynastic game. But when the premature death of Jane’s adolescent cousin—and Henry’s successor—King Edward VI thwarts their original ploy, Jane unwittingly finds herself at the center of the struggle for supremacy. And though she has no ambitions to rule, preferring to immerse herself in books and religion, she is forced to accept the crown, and by so doing sets off a firestorm of intrigue, betrayal, and tragedy. “In giving narrative voice to her subjects Alison Weir brings us into emotional contact with them in a way that an unadorned historical account does not.”— Boston Sunday Globe “Engrossing . . . suspenseful . . . enormously entertaining.” — The Washington Post Book World “Splendid . . . In giving narrative voice to her subjects Alison Weir brings us into emotional contact with them in a way that an unadorned historical account does not.” — Boston Sunday Globe “Every bit as good as anything [Philippa] Gregory has ever done . . . [Weir] makes a familiar story vibrant and fresh.” — The Atlanta Journal-Constitution “Completely absorbing . . . a brilliantly vivid and psychologically astute novel.” — Booklist (starred review) “Poignant and harrowing . . . a gripping finale.” — The Seattle Times “ Innocent Traitor is a an enormously entertaining novel to read. . . . This complicated history sweeps along in a remarkably accessible way—always exciting, always engaging.” — Trenton Times “For anyone interested in English history, Innocent Traitor is a must-read. . . . [Weir’s] first venture into fiction writing leaves the reader wanting more.” — Fredericksburg Free Lance-Star “A sensitive and fast-paced tale . . . Weir conveys the age’s political intrigues, religious fanaticism and sexism.” — USA Today “People who know their British history will admire how skillfully Weir sets characters on intricate paths that will inexorably draw them into the conflicts that history preordained for the novelist. . . . Characters breathe as though they were alive last week—not five centuries ago. . . . A chilling epitaph on a period of history that continues to fascinate and bewitch us today.” — San Antonio Express-News “ Innocent Traitor is splendid and an admirable exercise in creative restraint.” — West Contra Costa Sunday Times “ Innocent Traitor is a clever, complex work that chronicles the tragic life of one of England’s rising stars. . . . Weir’s effort is enthralling and entertaining from beginning to end.” — Times Record News “The story leaps off the page.” — Kirkus Reviews “Riveting, richly descriptive.” — Historical Novels Review Alison Weir is the New York Times bestselling author of Eleanor of Aquitaine; Mary, Queen of Scots and the Murder of Lord Darnley; The Six Wives of Henry VIII; Queen Isabella; and several other historical biographies. She lives in Surrey with her husband and two children. Frances Brandon, Marchioness of Dorset Bradgate Hall, Leicestershire, October 1537 My travail begins as I am enjoying a walk in the garden. There is a sudden flood of liquid from my womb, and then, as my maid runs for cloths and assistance, a dull pain that shifts from the small of my back to the pit of my stomach. Soon, they are all clustering around me, the midwives and the women, helping me through the great doorway of the manor house and up the oaken stairs, stripping me of my fine clothing and replacing it with a voluminous birthing smock of bleached linen, finely embroidered at the neck and wrists. Now I am made to lie upon my bed, and they are pressing a goblet of sweet wine to my lips. I don’t really want it, but I take a few sips to please them. My two chief ladies sit beside me, my gossips, whose job it is to while away the tedious hours of labor with distracting chatter. Their task is to keep me cheerful and to offer encouragement when the pains grow stronger. And they do grow stronger. Less than an hour passes before the dull ache that accompanies each pang becomes a knifelike thrust, vicious and relentless. Yet I can bear it. I have the blood of kings in my veins, and that emboldens me to lie mute, resisting the mounting screams. Soon, God willing, I will hold m