Praise for the author
ANNE
O’BRIEN
‘An absolutely gripping tale that is both superbly written and meticulously researched’
—The Sun
‘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
‘This book has everything–royalty, scandal, fascinating historical politics and, ultimately, the shaping of the woman who founded the Tudors.’
—Cosmopolitan
‘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
‘Another excellent read from the ever-reliable Anne O’Brien. Strong characters and a great setting make this highly recommended.’
—The Bookbag
‘Anne O’Brien is fast becoming one of Britain’s most popular and talented writers of medieval novels. ’
—Lancashire Evening Post
‘A must-read for any historical fiction fan’
—The Examiner
‘Brings the origins of the most famous royal dynasty to vibrant life’
—Candis
‘I was keen to see if this book…lived up to the hype— which it did.’
—Woman
The Scandalous Duchess
Anne O’Brien
ISBN: 978-1-472-01039-1
THE SCANDALOUS DUCHESS
© 2014 Anne O’Brien
Published in Great Britain 2014
by HQ, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
Version: 2018-02-07
To George, who for a whole year tolerated having to play second fiddle to John of Lancaster, but knows that he always remains my hero.
All my thanks to my agent, Jane Judd, whose love of history is as strong as my own. Her support and encouragement for me and the courageous women of the Middle Ages continues to be invaluable.
To Sally Williamson at HQ whose empathy with what I wish to say about my characters is beyond price. To her and to all the staff at HQ, without whose advice and professional commitment the real Katherine Swynford 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 create professional masterpieces out of the rough drafts of genealogy and maps I push in their direction.
‘…he [John, Duke of Lancaster] was blinded by desire, fearing neither God nor shame amongst men.’
Knighton’s Chronicle 1337-1396
‘…a she-devil and enchantress…’
The Anonimalle Chronicle 1333-1381
‘…an unspeakable concubine…’
Thomas Walsingham’s Chronicon Angliae
January 1372: The Manor of Kettlethorpe, Lincolnshire
The water that had swamped the courtyard overnight, thanks to a sudden storm, soaked into my shoes. And then my stockings. I hitched my skirts, scowling at the floating debris around me. Even the chickens, isolated on a pile of wood in the corner, looked morose.
‘Who left that harness out?’ I demanded, seeing the coils of leather black and dripping on the hook beside the stable door. My servants, few as they were, had gone to ground, and since nothing could be done until the rain actually stopped, I squelched under cover again.