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The Forbidden Queen
Anne O'Brien
A Sunday Times BestsellerEngland’s Forgotten Queens‘O’Brien cleverly intertwines the personal and political in this enjoyable, gripping tale.’-The TimesAn innocent pawn. A kingdom without a King. A new dynasty will reign… 1415. The jewel in the French crown, Katherine de Valois, is waiting under lock and key for King Henry V. While he’s been slaughtering her kinsmen in Agincourt, Katherine has been praying for marriage to save her from her misery. But the brutal King wants her crown, not her innocent love.For Katherine, England is a lion’s den of greed, avarice and mistrust. And when Katherine is widowed at twenty-one she is a prize ripe for the taking. Her young son the future monarch, her hand in marriage worth a kingdom. This is a deadly political game; one the Dowager Queen must learn fast.The players – Duke of Gloucester, Edmund Beaufort and Owen Tudor – are circling. Who will have her? Who will ruin her?This is the story of Katherine de Valois. The forbidden queen who launched the most famous dynasty of all time…Praise for Anne O’Brien‘O’Brien cleverly intertwines the personal and political in this enjoyable, gripping tale.’- The Times‘A gem of a subject … O’Brien is a terrific storyteller’- Daily Telegraph‘Joanna of Navarre is the feisty heroine in Anne O’Brien’s fast-paced historical novel The Queen’s Choice.’-Good Housekeeping‘A gripping story of love, heartache and political intrigue.’-Woman & Home‘Packed with drama, danger, romance and history.’-Pam Norfolk, for the Press Association‘Better than Philippa Gregory’ – The Bookseller ‘Anne O’Brien has joined the exclusive club of excellent historical novelists.’ – Sunday Express ‘A gripping historical drama.’-Bella‘This book has everything – royalty, scandal, fascinating historical politics and ultimately, the shaping of the woman who founded the Tudors.’ – Cosmopolitanwww.anneobrien.co.uk@anne_obrien
Praise for the author
ANNE
O’BRIEN
‘The characters are larger than life…and the author
a compulsive storyteller. A little fictional embroidery has been worked into history but the bones of the book are true.’
—Sunday Express
‘O’Brien has excellent control over the historical
material and a rich sense of characterisation, making for a fascinating and surprisingly female-focused look at one of the most turbulent periods of English history.’
—Publishers Weekly
‘Better than Philippa Gregory’
—The Bookseller
‘Anne O’Brien is fast becoming one of Britain’s most
popular and talented writers of medieval novels. Her in-depth knowledge and silky skills with the pen help to bring the past to life and put the focus firmly on some of history’s most fascinating characters.’
—Pam Norfolk, Lancashire Evening Post
‘Anne O’Brien is definitely an author to watch for
historical fiction fans and I look forward to reading more of her work in the future.’
—One More Page…
‘Ms O’Brien’s prose is smooth and uncomplicated.
Her characters’ speech is not overburdened with archaic expressions, yet still evokes the time period. She has obviously done a good deal of research and it makes this story pleasurable to someone like myself, who loves all things medieval…’
—Cynthia Robertson, Literarydaze
Also by
ANNE
O’BRIEN
VIRGIN WIDOW
DEVIL’S CONSORT
THE KING’S CONCUBINE
About the Author
ANNE O’BRIEN taught history in the East Riding of Yorkshire before deciding to fulfil an ambition to write historical fiction. She now lives in an eighteenth-century timbered cottage with her husband in the Welsh Marches, a wild, beautiful place renowned for its black-and-white timbered houses, ruined castles and priories and magnificent churches. Steeped in history, famous people and bloody deeds, as well as ghosts and folklore, the Marches provide inspiration for her interest in medieval England.
Visit her at www.anneobrienbooks.com (http://www.anneobrienbooks.com)
The Forbidden Queen
Anne O’Brien
This is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
HQ is an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
Published in Great Britain 2013
HQ 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
© Anne O’Brien 2013
eISBN 978-1-472-01023-0
Version: 2018-07-18
Table of Contents
Cover (#uf8ae2d9b-1FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Praise (#uf8ae2d9b-2FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Also by Anne O’Brien (#uf8ae2d9b-3FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
About the Author (#uf8ae2d9b-4FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Title Page (#uf8ae2d9b-5FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Copyright (#uf8ae2d9b-6FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Dedication (#uf8ae2d9b-9FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Acknowledgements (#uf8ae2d9b-10FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Chapter One (#uf8ae2d9b-12FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Chapter Two (#uf8ae2d9b-13FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Chapter Three (#uf8ae2d9b-14FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Chapter Four (#uf8ae2d9b-15FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Chapter Five (#uf8ae2d9b-16FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Other titles by the author (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Author Note (#litres_trial_promo)
Read All About It… (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publishers (#litres_trial_promo)
To George, as ever, whose knowledge of English
medieval history is improving in leaps and bounds
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
All my thanks to my agent, Jane Judd, whose support for me
and the courageous women of the Middle Ages continues to be invaluable.
To Jenny Hutton and all the staff at HQ, without whose
guidance and commitment the real Katherine de Valois would never have emerged from the mists of the past.
To Helen Bowden and all at Orphans Press without whom
my website would not exist, and who come to my rescue to create professional masterpieces out of my genealogy and maps.
‘You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate.’
King Henry to Katherine: Shakespeare’s Henry V
‘[a woman] unable to curb fully her carnal passions’
Contemporary comment on Katherine de Valois: J. A. Giles, ed., Incerti scriptoris chronicon Angliae de regnis trium regum Lancastrensium (1848)
CHAPTER ONE
It was in the Hôtel de St Pol in Paris, where I was born, that I chased my sister through the rooms of the palace, shrieking like some demented creature in torment. Michelle ran, agile as a hare pursued by a pack of hounds, and because of her advantage of years I was not catching her. She leapt up the great staircase and along a deserted gallery into an antechamber, where she tried to slam the door against me. There was no one to witness our clamorous, unedifying rampage.
I flung back the heavy door so that it crashed against the wall. My breath was short, my side clenched with pain, but my belly was so empty that I would not surrender. I pounded in my sister’s wake, triumphant when I heard Michelle whimpering in distress as her feet slid and she cannoned into the corner of a vast oak press set against the wall. From there she lurched into yet another audience chamber, and I howled with imminent victory. There was no way out from that carved and gilded room. I had her. Or, more importantly, I would have what she gripped in her hand.
And there she was, standing at bay, eyes blazing, teeth bared.
‘Share it!’ I demanded.
When, despite her laboured breathing, she stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth, I sprang at her, and we fell to the floor to roll in a tangle of foul skirts, unwashed legs and greasy, unbraided hair. Teeth and nails were applied indiscriminately, sharp elbows coming into play until, ploughing my fist into Michelle’s belly with all my five-year-old weight, I snatched the prize from her. A stale crust and a charred bone of some unidentifiable animal that she had filched from the kitchens when the cook’s back was turned. Scrambling up, I backed away, cramming the hard bread into my mouth, sinking my teeth into the flesh on the bone, my belly rumbling. I turned from the fury in her face to flee back the way we had come.
‘What’s this?’
Despite the mild query, it was a voice of authority who spoke. I pulled up short because my way was barred, yet I would still have fled except that Michelle had crept to my side. In our terrible preoccupation we had not heard the approach, and my heart was hammering so loudly in my ears that I was all but deafened. And there, beating against my temples, was the little pressure, the little flutter of pain, that often afflicted me when I was perturbed.
‘Stop that!’
The mildness had vanished, and I stood quietly at last, curtseying without grace so that I smeared my skirts even more with grease and crumbs. There was no governess to busy herself about our manners or our education. There was never any money in our household to pay for such luxuries.
‘Well?’ The King, our father, lifted agitated eyes to the servant who accompanied him.
‘Your daughters, Sire,’ the man replied promptly, barely respectful.
