SECRETS of the TUDOR COURT
D.L. BOGDAN
KENSINGTON BOOKS
To my grandfather, for giving me a love of storytelling;
for my father, for giving me a love of words;
and for my mother, for giving me a love of reading
Acknowledgments
I would first like to thank my agent, Elizabeth Pomada, for all of her hard work in making my lifelong dream a reality. I’d also like to thank my editor, John Scognamiglio, of Kensington Publishing, for taking a chance on me and patiently guiding me through this amazing process. My gratitude also goes to the fine people at the British Archives in Kew for scoping out all of the obscure information on the Third Duke of Norfolk and his family, along with every library I’ve ever entered (University of Wisconsin-Madison, McMillan Memorial Library, and the Marshfield Public Library in particular). I am continually thrilled by the interlibrary loan system! My acknowledgments would not be complete if I did not recognize the people who have supported me throughout this long journey: my mother, Cindy Bogdan, who always took time to let me read my latest scene to her on the phone; Candy Baer, Cathy Renner, Crystal Johnston, Mark Scarborough, the Barton family, the Brand family, Dr. Jeff Kleiman, Dr. Katie Kalish, Teresa Carlson, Victoria Fletcher Schultz, and everyone else who believed in me along the way. Last but not least, I want to thank Dr. David Head, author of the biography The Ebbs and Flows of Fortune: The Life of Thomas Howard, Third Duke of Norfolk. Without his work and valuable insights along the way, I would never have been able to entertain you with the Howards’ incredible story.
Contents
Prologue: An Entrance
1. Doll’s Eyes
2. Awakening
3. Farewell to Kenninghall
4. London!
5. Anne
6. The King’s Great Matter
7. The Marquess of Pembroke
8. France
9. Anne’s Secret
10. Anna Regina
11. A Royal Birth
12. The Duchess of Richmond
13. Falling Stars
14. My Harry
15. The Fight
16. The German Bride
17. A Rose Named Kitty
18. Thorns
19. A Poet’s Heart
20. A True Howard
21. Long Live the King!
22. The Reigate Years
23. Rainy Days
24. Norfolk and Me
Epilogue: Elizabeth Stafford Howard
A Reading Group Guide
Discussion Questions
PROLOGUE
An Entrance
Elizabeth Stafford Howard, spring 1519
He is pulling my hair—it is going to be torn from my scalp, I am sure of it. I struggle and fight against him. The pains grip my womb. I cup my rounded belly with one hand and claw my husband’s wrist with the other.
“Let me go!” I cry. “Please! The baby is coming! You’re going to hurt the baby!”
He says nothing but continues to pull me off the bed by my hair. It hurts…oh, it hurts. To my horror I see the glint of his dagger as he removes it from its sheath. He lowers it in one wild gesture, striking my head near where he is pulling my hair. I am unsure of his aims. Is he going to chop my hair off? Is he going to chop me up?
“Stop…” I beg as he continues to drag me about the house in front of cold-eyed servants who do not interfere with his “discipline.”
At long last he drops me on the cold stone floor in front of my bedchamber. The pains are coming closer together. I am writhing in agony. The wound on my head is bleeding. Warm red liquid runs down my face into my eyes.
He walks away.
When his footfalls can no longer be heard a servant comes forward to help me to my bed. It is safe now, I suppose. The midwife, cowering in a corner, inches forward.
“What on God’s earth could you have done to warrant that man’s displeasure?” she asks in her country accent as she wipes clean my face and attends to the dagger wound.
I look at her in despair. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I never know.”
And this is how my child enters this world. I name her Mary, after the Blessed Virgin. Perhaps so named, God will show her more favor than He has condescended to show me.
1
Doll’s Eyes
Mary Howard, 1522
They tell me my father is a great man and I must be his pretty little lady. I must behave myself and stay clean. I wonder what it is to be a great man. I know that he is a favored servant of His Majesty King Henry VIII, and he is a very brave knight. I try to picture him. Is he tall? Is he handsome? I cannot remember. He is not home very much. I cling to my brother Henry’s hand and await my lord, who is to see us and comment on our progress. Our progress on what, I do not know. On being people, I suppose.
My sister, Catherine—she is a bigger girl than me and quite haughty—stands beside Henry. My other brother Thomas is at the end, shuffling from foot to foot. We are a pretty row of little soldiers.
When he appears in the nursery with Mother, another foreign figure to our nursery, he reviews us all. He ruffles Thomas’s blond hair and shakes Henry’s outstretched hand. He compliments my sister on her smart dress.
He regards me a long moment. “Mary,” he says, as though it is a new sound to his ears. “How old are you now?”
“I am three,” I tell him proudly.
He is a great man. I can tell. He is so stately and composed, like a living portrait.
“Three,” he says. “And what do you know at this great age of three?”
I think about this. I am not sure how to answer his query. Do I tell him about my letters and numbers, my colors and shapes? What does he want to know? I tell him what I am most proud of.
“I never have any accidents anymore—not in three whole months. Nurse says I will have a pretty new gown.” I look up at him, beaming.
He grimaces at this. I do not think my answer pleases him. His lips twitch a moment as he stoops down, picking me up and carrying me to the window. “I shall tell you what is most important, what you should know at this great age of three,” he says, bouncing me a bit on his hip. “You are a Howard.” He looks into my face. “You are a Howard. You belong to the greatest family in the land.”
I am held by his gaze; his eyes are black, deep as a starless night. They are eyes that command attention. I am captivated and frightened at once.
I wrap my arms about his neck, pressing my cheek to his, hoping to endear myself to those black orbs that remind me so much of my doll’s eyes in their—what is the word? Lifelessness.
“Remember it,” he says. “Always remember it.”
“I