The King's Deception

Hampton Court is spectacular, and all of the scenes (chapters 37, 38, and 39) that take place there are faithful to the site. The Haunted Gallery exists, as do the Tudor portraits described in chapter 38. The Cumberland Suite, the gardens, docks, kitchens, golf course, and the tunnels beneath (chapter 42) all are there. Only the door in the wine cellar, leading to the former sewers, was my invention.

Blackfriars Abbey is long gone, but the Underground station described in chapters 56 and 57 remains. At the time this story takes place (two years ago) the station was being rebuilt, but the new facility is now complete. To my knowledge, percussion explosives, as described in chapters 3, 53, and 62, do not exist. I created them, combining the physical characteristics of several different types of reactants.

Elizabeth I was a wonderfully complex person. She never married and openly shirked her duty to provide a royal heir — both of which raise interesting questions. She was thin, unbeautiful, lonely, with nearly constant energy — totally opposite all of her siblings. The idiosyncrasies noted in chapter 49 (and at other points throughout the novel) are taken from historical accounts. Elizabeth refused to allow doctors to examine her, commanded that no autopsy would be performed, always wore heavy face makeup and wigs, donned unflattering clothing that totally concealed her body, and allowed only a select few people close. Those included Kate Ashley, Thomas Parry, both Cecils, and Blanche Parry. If there was any conspiracy, these five individuals would have been at its heart.

The Mask of Youth (chapter 16) existed, so every drawing of Elizabeth must be called into question. Within the novel are five images. On the Part One page is a portrait created in 1546 when Elizabeth was 13 years old. This would have been about the time she supposedly died. This is a famous image, one of the few that exist showing the princess under the age of 25. No one knows, though, if it accurately depicts her. The Part Two page shows the Clopton Portrait from 1560. Elizabeth was 27 at the time, two years into her reign, and never looked less regal and confident. The features are noticeably nonfeminine. On the Part Three page is the Ermine Portrait, painted in 1585. This is an excellent example of the Mask of Youth. Elizabeth was 52 years old at its creation, but her face is that of a much younger woman. The same is true on the title page with the Rainbow Portrait, where Elizabeth was 70 years old but appears far younger. And, finally, on the Part Four page is the Darnley Portrait, painted from life in 1575. Interestingly, the crown and sceptre were placed on a side table, not held, suggesting that they were more props, than symbols of power. Once again, little about the face is feminine. The conclusions are inescapable. We simply have no idea what Elizabeth I looked like.

Elizabeth wanted her Scottish cousin James to succeed her. The Union of Crowns, which Robert Cecil spearheaded (chapter 16), is historical fact. Elizabeth’s quote—I will have no rascal to succeed me, and who should succeed me but a king—is often cited as authority for her wishes. Its oblique wording is odd. Why not just simply name a successor? But if the possibility that she may have been a fraud is considered, the odd phrasing begins to make more sense. Whether Elizabeth was actually aware of the plan of succession Robert Cecil hatched with James is unknown. But most historians agree that Cecil would have never made the overtures without her blessing. The deathbed scene described in chapter 16, where she supposedly made her succession wishes clear, happened — and in 1603 the English crown passed from the Tudors to the Stuarts with no objections.

The story of what occurred while the young princess Elizabeth lived with Katherine Parr and Thomas Seymour (chapter 21), including Seymour’s unseemly advances, was quite the scandal. Parr did eventually send the princess away and wrote a letter, which was delivered to Elizabeth a few months after Parr’s untimely death (chapter 21). I modified its wording to fit this story. Parr, though, would have been the only person (outside the conspirators) who could have discovered any switch. Unlike Henry VIII, Parr spent a great deal of time with the young Elizabeth (chapter 52). The former queen also harbored a deep resentment toward anything and everything related to her late husband Henry VIII. So it is unlikely she would have revealed anything she may have known.