Giveaway: The Captive Queen: A Novel of Mary Stuart by Danny Saunders

Teddyrose@1

10 years ago

Thanks to Amy Bruno of Historical Fiction Virtual Book Tours, I am giving away one paperback copy of ‘The Captive Queen.’

Publication Date: April 24, 2014
CreateSpace Independent Publishing
Formats: eBook, Paperback
Genre: Historical Fiction

Political schemes, religious partisanship and unbridled love shake the Royal Court of Scotland at the end of the Stuart dynasty.

Witness to sordid murders, spy for Her Majesty among the Protestants of the infamous preacher John Knox, forced to give up her one true love, thrown out onto the streets then ruthlessly attacked by a drunkard, Charlotte Gray will do everything in her power to remain the sovereign’s lady-in-waiting.

As for the Queen of Scots, she faces turmoil of a completely different kind: prisoner in a castle under the command of her cousin, Queen Elizabeth I of England, Mary Stuart learns that she is the victim of a vast conspiracy and that her English counterpart has ordered her imminent execution.

Despite their hardships, Mary and Charlotte will keep their dignity throughout the storm. The two women will finally find serenity, one in the arms of a man and the other in the arms of God.

Interwoven with historical facts of the era, the thrilling The Captive Queen saga is worthy of the greatest royal intrigues that still fascinate us several centuries later.

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Read the Excerpt:

CHAPTER I
The Catholic Queen
Palace of Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh 1561

THE QUEEN of Scotland hastily entered her private quarters, lavishly decorated with Italian tapestries and French paintings. She immediately ordered the servant, who was standing by the imposing solid oak armoire located at the back of the room, to ask for the presence of her lady-in-waiting at once. Mary Stuart was quite fond of this antique piece of furniture that had belonged to King Robert II, the first Stuart to ascend to the throne of Scotland, two centuries earlier. For the sovereign, this closet embodied the royal heritage that she had sworn to preserve with dignity and judgement, the same way her predecessor had. In a swift manner, the young red-haired grabbed the bottom of her yellowish petticoat with her white hands. She then exited the anteroom by a concealed door, dissimulated in the huge floral fresco painted on the wall, which led to a secret passage. She rushed through the palace’s many dark and narrow corridors nervously, in search of the missing young lady.

Elizabeth McLeod was serving the sovereign since her return to Scottish soil in 1561. Her mother worked in the kitchens until her last breath, and had devoted her life to indulging the whims of the Earl and Countess of Argyll, one of the wealthiest families in the kingdom. Her father, an alcoholic sailor, was rarely home and had the unfortunate habit of beating his wife for little nothings when he was there. This is why Elizabeth, very early on, had taken on her small shoulders the burden of caring for her four sisters and two brothers, like a mother. When she was barely twenty years old, the young woman received an offer to work at the Palace of Holyroodhouse, following the atrocious death of her husband, who had died two years earlier during a religious uprising in Glasgow. This proposal was a relief, as the death of the man she cherished more than anything was unbearable and left her bitter for a long time. After several months of negotiations with the Earl of Argyll, Elizabeth’s mother obtained the man’s promise to speak with some members of the Royal House. And this is how he was able to offer her, without much difficulty, a decent position at the palace.

After a thorough look at almost every corner of the gigantic main wing, Elizabeth considered continuing her search outside the residence. Miss is certainly taking a walk in the gardens on such a beautiful day, thought the servant, convinced that she would find the sovereign’s lady-in-waiting there. So she walked towards the big kitchens of the main floor, hurried in and left the last room, filled with a beam of sunshine, by the service door. Once outside, she could single out the exquisite aroma of the bread, baking in the big stone oven. With hasty steps, Elizabeth arrived at the splendid royal gardens that surrounded the building and from which a sweet fragrance of summer flowers was emanating. Going around the several luxuriant groves, she finally caught sight of Charlotte, who was sitting on the freshly mown lawn, by the superb red roses that reminded her of her tender years in England, which she spent with her family. She was so radiant in her scarlet dress with wide bishop sleeves and a white taffeta shirt finely buttoned around her frail neck. Her brown hair were plaited back just like her favourite aunt had taught her, the youngest of her mother’s sisters. That day, she was wearing a modest but elegant gold chain and a matching ring. We could have easily mistaken her for a princess. Charlotte very well knew that clothing was a meaningful symbol and that it indicated someone’s rank in society; this is why she always dressed accordingly. And it would be so as long as the queen remained the most majestic at all times. No one could compete with her. For that matter, a lady-in-waiting was immediately reprimanded if she wore too sumptuous a dress. The queen’s favourite loved finding herself among the thousands of red, blue and pink petals. The gardens of the Royal Palace were the only place where tranquility was to be expected. When her role as lady-in-waiting made moments unbearable, the Englishwoman found refuge there to regain some sense of serenity. “Miss Charlotte! Madam is looking for you!” cried the servant with a trembling voice as she was heading towards her.

Charlotte Gray was a pretty young woman with big green eyes of an emerald-like shade and long curly sandy brown hair. Her skin was as soft as silk and almost as white as milk, and her delicate stature had always made her sisters envious. No man could remain insensitive to the beauty and refinement of this perfect body. Brought up as a catholic by her caring mother on her father’s farm in England, she settled down on the enemy kingdom, Scotland, after a first marriage which ended abruptly. Her parents were good Christians and taught theirs daughters early on that self- accomplishment was achieved through the daily hardships that God put on their path and relentless work. They reminded them often that they should never be keen on power or jealous of the situation of others, two deadly sins that were unforgivable for God’s children.

In spite of having a little bit too dreamy a soul on occasions, Charlotte had a personality of her own and never let herself be stepped on. One moment, she could be the most docile and the next fly into a furious rage. Her sisters quickly learned that they shouldn’t annoy her unnecessarily. Nevertheless, she knew how to play the game in front of her parents who never understood the extent of the exasperation their other children felt.

The lady-in-waiting stood up promptly when she heard her name. She gently laid the small bouquet of perfumed red roses she was holding in her hands on the verdant ground and walked towards the castle, followed by Elizabeth. Charlotte very well knew that the servant’s nervousness meant that the queen was in a foul mood. The two young women quickened their step. They entered the imposing residence through the same door the servant used a few minutes earlier. They rushed through the kitchens and parted ways at the bottom of the narrow staircase that led directly to the queen’s vast quarters, on the second floor. The young red-haired turned back to help the old Jane, the official cook of the Royal House since the reign of late King James V ended; she was busy preparing the first meal of this long day, which was going to be arduous. Meanwhile, Charlotte was climbing up the stairs anxiously to join the sovereign, who had been waiting for her impatiently for quite some time. “Here you are my dear, finally!” she sighed with exasperation. “Please forgive my negligence Madam,” mumbled the lady-in-waiting nervously, looking at the floor. Since she did not want to rouse the queen’s anger any further, Charlotte came closer with hesitant steps and ventured to ask the reason for her presence. Mary Stuart, looking at her favourite jewels in a richly decorated casket, stood up gracefully and asked the young girl to accompany her to the drawing room. An emissary from the head of the Presbyterian Church had been waiting in this room for several long minutes. The queen asked to be completely dressed in black to show her total disapproval and her deepest indignation to meet with this Protestant ambassador. And, in a fit of tremendous rage, she had decided at the last minute to cover herself with as many crosses and rosaries as the fabric of her dress could hold; it was her way of declaring, to all of those who were on her way, her devotion to the Church of Rome, and that in the most eccentric fashion possible. With a gracious gesture, the sovereign closed the jewelry box she was holding in her hands and laid it on the white marble table beside which she was standing. She grabbed her small silver amber apple, which contained musky oil, brought it towards her nostrils and started heading downstairs to the main floor to grand this adversary an audience.

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About Danny Saunders:

Danny Saunders is a true European history enthusiast. He has always been keenly interested in royalty. Danny holds a bachelor’s degree in political science and also pursued communication studies at the university level. He has worked as a journalist for various written and electronic media. Of Scottish descent, Danny takes genuine pride in his British roots. The Captive Queen: A Novel of Mary Stuart is his first historical novel.

To find out more about the author Danny Saunders, you can visit his website at www.dannysaunders.com. You can also find him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

This giveaway is open to US, UK, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and Ireland. It ends on September 24, 2014. Please use Rafflecopter to enter.

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