Chapters (116)
- Cover
- The Last Tudor
- Family Trees
- BOOK I
- BRADGATE HOUSE, GROBY, LEICESTERSHIRE,
- SUFFOLK PLACE, LONDON,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- DURHAM HOUSE, LONDON,
- SUFFOLK PLACE, LONDON,
- THE OLD MANOR, CHELSEA,
- SYON HOUSE, ISLEWORTH,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- BOOK II
- BAYNARD’S CASTLE, LONDON,
- BEAUMANOR, LEICESTERSHIRE,
- BEAUMANOR, LEICESTERSHIRE,
- HAMPTON COURT PALACE,
- OATLANDS PALACE, SURREY,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- HANWORTH PALACE, MIDDLESEX,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- NONSUCH PALACE, SURREY,
- HAMPTON COURT PALACE,
- HAMPTON COURT PALACE,
- CHARTERHOUSE, SHEEN,
- WINDSOR CASTLE,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- CHARTERHOUSE, SHEEN,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- WINDSOR CASTLE,
- WINDSOR CASTLE,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- CANNON ROW, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- ON PROGRESS: THE ROAD TO WANSTEAD,
- PIRGO PALACE, ESSEX,
- MR. MORE’S HOUSE, HIGH STREET, IPSWICH,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- THE LIEUTENANT’S HOUSE, THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- LAMBETH PALACE, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- THE TOWER, LONDON,
- PIRGO PALACE, ESSEX,
- BOOK III
- WINDSOR CASTLE,
- WINDSOR CASTLE,
- WINDSOR CASTLE,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,
- WINDSOR CASTLE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE,
- CHEQUERS TO LONDON,
- THE MINORIES, LONDON,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- GREENWICH PALACE,
- THE MINORIES, LONDON,
- GRIMSTHORPE CASTLE, LINCOLNSHIRE,
- GRIMSTHORPE CASTLE, LINCOLNSHIRE,
- GRIMSTHORPE CASTLE, LINCOLNSHIRE,
- GRIMSTHORPE CASTLE, LINCOLNSHIRE,
- GRESHAM HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE, LONDON,
- GRESHAM HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE, LONDON,
- GRESHAM HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE, LONDON,
- GRESHAM HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE, LONDON,
- GRESHAM HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE, LONDON,
- GRESHAM HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE, LONDON,
- GRESHAM HOUSE, BISHOPSGATE, LONDON,
- OSTERLEY PARK, MIDDLESEX,
- ST. BOTOLPH’S-WITHOUT-ALDGATE, LONDON,
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- BIBLIOGRAPHY
I start to cry, weakly. “But I have nowhere to go...” I did not dream that she would be angry with me. “Where can I go? Aunt Bess, please! Don’t you have somewhere that I can go? Can’t I go to your house?”
Again she slaps her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream. “A Tudor heir born in my house? A child half Tudor and half Seymour? Don’t you know that she will see that as a plot? No! No! Don’t you hear what I am saying? Elizabeth would throw me out of the court if she even knew we had been speaking, if she even knew that I know of this. Go. Go now, and don’t tell anyone that you have spoken to me, for I will simply deny it.”
“But what am I to do?” I demand of her.
The shadows leap and fall on her frightened face as she reaches for her bedside candle. “Go and hide somewhere, have the child, give it away—throw it away if you have to—and come back to court pretending that it never happened,” she counsels. “And never tell anyone that you spoke to me. And be sure that I will never confess it.”
“Dear Aunt Bess, I beg you! Please don’t blow out the candle!”
There is a puff and the room is in darkness.
Incredulously, I stand in the dark, and then I stumble towards the door.
* * *
I go to my bed but I don’t sleep. The baby has shifted again, I think it has dropped lower, for the swell of my belly is not so high. I think for a moment that perhaps it has died and is shrinking and that this might be the best thing for me. But then it squirms and kicks against me so strongly that I cannot pretend for even a moment that it is dead.
Besides, I have a sudden rush of love for the poor little thing. I don’t want it dead. I can’t wish it dead. When Lady St. Loe said I should hope for a stillbirth, I thought her a monster. I thought she was beyond cruel. I will not give this poor little being away. I would not dream of putting a pillow over its little face and throwing it into a ditch. I will remember the puff of the candle and the darkness till I die. How could she? But there is no point in crying about Lady Bess when I have to think what I can do and where I can go.