Passion and peril in the court of Elizabeth I...
Henrietta Raemon, illegitimate daughter of Henry VIII, longs to go to court to be closer to her half sister, the queen. The last thing on fiercely independent Etta’s mind is marriage—until newly ennobled merchant Baron Somerville leaves her no choice!
But the attractions of court turn perilous when Etta’s resemblance to Elizabeth makes her some powerful enemies. Her husband is there to protect her, if only Etta can conquer her pride...and surrender.
While they chatted about fabrics and fashion, both of them realised that this was not the sole purpose of her visit, and that what they said to each other about texture and pattern and softness had secondary meanings to do with hair and skin, beauty and availability, desire and attraction.
For Etta this was a new way to conduct a flirtation, and as she watched his strong, elegant hands fondle the materials she could almost feel the effect upon herself—warm and sensuous, silky smooth.
‘I should return home,’ she said, lifting a handful of sheer silk to her face. She could almost taste its beauty.
He was close—perhaps too close for a new acquaintance. Turning, she found that he too was holding the same silk behind her head, easing her towards his lips while swathing her in its warm luxury.
‘This is what you should wear,’ he whispered, bending his head to hers.
‘But it’s transparent.’
‘Yes. As I said, it’s what you should wear. But only for me.’
It was dangerous talk.
Eighteen years on from Betrayed, Betrothed and Bedded, Sir Jon and Lady Raemon are now the middle-aged parents of Henrietta, the lovely stepdaughter whose natural father is King Henry VIII.
His mistresses are well-documented, so I have used some artistic license to invent Henrietta’s mother, though in fact several of his offspring resembled his daughter Elizabeth quite closely. Lady Catherine Grey was one of those—a young woman who unfortunately did not share the characteristics of her brilliant older sister, Lady Jane Grey. By including some factual characters in Taming the Tempestuous Tudor I hope to create enough reality to make the fiction sound plausible: men like Lord Robert Dudley, Dr. John Dee and Lord Howard of Effingham, and Queen Elizabeth herself.
The miniaturist Levina Teerlinc actually did live at the Tudor court, working for both Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, and her father was indeed the artist Simon Benninck. Whether she had a brother or not I have been unable to discover, so I have taken the liberty of inventing one for her. She painted Elizabeth on several occasions, and Lady Catherine Grey too. Dr John Dee did go to live in Mortlake, near the church, where he had a vast library of scientific books, and the site of Mortlake Manor, once lived in by Thomas Cromwell, was eventually demolished and built on by the brewery.
Taming the Tempestuous Tudor
Juliet Landon
JULIET LANDON has a keen interest in art and history, both of which she used to teach. She particularly enjoys researching the early medieval, Tudor and Regency periods, and the problems encountered by women in a man’s world. Born in North Yorkshire, she now lives in a Hampshire village close to her family. Her first books, which were on embroidery and design, were published under her own name of Jan Messent.
I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my daughter and son-in-law for making it possible for me to write in peace and comfort. More than that, my daughter’s skills as an anger-management counsellor have been an invaluable source of advice on how Henrietta might have behaved, given her problems. Thank you, Susie.
To Brian I owe special thanks for his unfailing willingness to help a less than competent mother-in-law with the mysterious workings of a computer, even at the most inconvenient times.
I would also like to thank my editor, Linda Fildew, for her help, constant encouragement and friendship, and to Tilda McDonald whose work on the manuscript is so much appreciated. They make historical-fiction writing such a pleasure.
Contents
January 14th, 1559—London
Chosen some months beforehand by Dr John Dee, Royal Astrologer, the day before the coronation had begun in the freezing dark hours, when the starry sky echoed to the din of every bell in every church tower in every ward of the city. As it grew light, the stands erected along the route of the procession took on a clothing of blues, browns and reds, with pink faces shouting above the clamour.
Henrietta sat with her seventeen-year-old twin stepbrothers, their cousins and Aunt Maeve, slightly envious of