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 wait for the hour of my rescue, but it does not come. I wait for Katherine to come and tell me what is happening, but she does not visit me either. Suddenly, I am not allowed to walk in the garden or on the flat roofs of the Tower buildings, but nobody will tell me why. The days are dark, with mist off the river and lowering clouds. I don’t want to walk in the garden anyway, I tell Mrs. Partridge. There is nothing growing at this time of year, the trees are bare of leaves, the green itself is a patch of mud. There is no need for anyone to forbid me. I am imprisoned by wintry weather, not by the will of the queen. Mrs. Partridge compresses her lips and says nothing.
From somewhere in the City I can hear the noise of men shouting and the rattle of handguns going off. Without doubt it is my father, coming for me at the head of his army. My books are tidy on my table, my papers tied together, I am ready to go.
“What is happening?” I ask Mrs. Partridge quietly.
She crosses herself, as if it were a natural gesture to ward off ill luck.
“God forgive you!” I say at once at the terrible gesture. “What ridiculous waving about are you doing? What good do you think that would do anybody? Why not clap your hands to scare away Satan while you’re at it?”
She looks me directly in the eye. “I pray for you” is all she replies, and she goes from my rooms.
“What is happening?” I shout. But she closes the door behind her.
THE TOWER, LONDON,
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1554
I have a visitor, John Feckenham, whose idolatry is proclaimed by his long cream-colored woolen robe, tied at the waist with a leather thong, and a white hood that he pushes back from his square flushed face. A Benedictine monk, come to visit me, poor fool.
He catches his breath from the climb up the stairs to my rooms. “Steep,” he manages, gasping, and then ducks his head in a bow. “Lady Dudley, I’ve come to talk with you, if you’ll have me.” He has a strong accent, like a butcher or a dairyman, nothing like the refined accent of my Cambridge-educated tutors. It makes me smile, as if the cowman was preaching.
“I have no need of guidance from a blind man in darkness,” I say quietly.