Twentyfive years after &34;The Other Boleyn Girl,&34; Gregory tells the story of Jane Rochford. Philippa Gregory returns to the Tudors with Boleyn Traitor — rea

Twenty-five years after "The Other Boleyn Girl," Gregory tells the story of Jane Rochford.

Philippa Gregory returns to the Tudors with Boleyn Traitor — read an exclusive excerpt

Twenty-five years after "The Other Boleyn Girl," Gregory tells the story of Jane Rochford.

By Maureen Lee Lenker

Maureen Lee Lenker

Maureen Lee Lenker is a senior writer at ** with over seven years of experience in the entertainment industry. An award-winning journalist, she's written for Turner Classic Movies, *Ms. Magazine*, *The Hollywood Reporter*, and more. She's worked at EW for six years covering film, TV, theater, music, and books. The author of EW's quarterly romance review column, "Hot Stuff," Maureen holds Master's degrees from both the University of Southern California and the University of Oxford. Her debut novel, *It Happened One Fight*, is now available. Follow her for all things related to classic Hollywood, musicals, the romance genre, and Bruce Springsteen.

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Published on August 5, 2025 12:00PM EDT

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Philippa Gregory is the author of 'Boleyn Traitor'. Credit:

Quantrell Colbert; William Morrow

Philippa Gregory is going Boleyn again.

The best-selling author returns to the world of the Tudor court 25 years after *The Other Boleyn Girl *launched her into the publishing stratosphere. With *Boleyn Traitor, *Gregory is back to what she does best: finding forgotten or misunderstood women in history and adding depth, complexity, and emotion to their stories.

In her latest, out Oct. 18, Gregory turns her pen to Jane Rochford, who she deems one of the most vilified women in history. Rochford was a lady-in-waiting to Henry VIII's first wife, Catherine of Aragon, but she is best known for her marriage to George Boleyn, brother to Henry's second wife Anne Boleyn. Many believe that Rochford played a role in the case against George and Anne Boleyn that led to their execution.

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Thus, as the book jacket explains, "Jane is known to history as a woman who betrayed her husband, his wife, and her cousin to the executioner, and has been accused of murderous madness and sexual perversion. Delving deeper into the history, Philippa tells a new version of a woman who may have been a spy — a trusted confidante in Thomas Cromwell's intricate network, navigating the treacherous waters of Tudor politics and seeing the monster in the heart of the maze. In an era where women's voices were often silenced, Jane's whispers were her weapon — a reflection of the enduring struggle for power and agency that women continue to face today."

** has an exclusive excerpt from Gregory's return to the world of the Boleyns. Read on for more below.

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'Boleyn Traitor' by Philippa Gregory.

**GREENWICH PALACE, SUMMER**

In the hammered silver of the mirror, we look like two headless ghosts – our black hoods hiding our faces. I push back my hood and throw back the thick veil to reveal the mask of a golden falcon. The sharp beak is enamelled gold, the flaring eyebrows brass. The feathers of head and throat are cloth of gold: they shift and settle like plumage, speckled like peregrine feathers, as if a free bird has been cursed into gold by Midas.

I push up my mask over my light brown hair to show my creamy skin, my secretive smile.

'And you can take that look off your face,' Anne says, throwing back her own hood, raising her head for me to raise her veil and free her of her mask.

'Your false face – your two-faced face. What are you thinking?'

A courtier's mouth is always full of unspoken words. 'I was thinking: it's going to be hard to dance in this,' I lie. 'It's going to be hard to see.'

'We're here to be seen, not to see.'

She gets up and spreads her arms for me to unlace her stomacher, her sleeves, the skirt of her gown. She scratches her rounded belly through the fine linen shift. Five months into her second pregnancy, she is more tired than with her first. She says this is a sign of a son. Her daughter, Princess Elizabeth, was easier to carry. She rests her bed every afternoon before dinner when the king is bathing and changing his clothes after his afternoon sports.

'What's the masque called?' she asks, climbing into the great golden bed.

'"The Falconers". We dance as birds, and then . . .'

'Let me guess,' she interrupts. 'The king and his friends come in disguised as falconers, and they catch us, and we dance with them? And then we all unmask, and I discover I am dancing with the king! I am amazed! I had no idea! I thought he was a handsome stranger.'

I give a trill of false laughter. 'You're so funny!'

I take off her embroidered shoes and peel down her fine silk stockings. This is honourable work for a lady-in-waiting to a queen, and the duty of a beloved sister-in-law. I am proud to be both.

She closes her eyes. 'Surely, not even he can believe I don't know my own husband?'

Of course, the king does not think that we believe a group of strange Savoy princes or unknown Russian lords in thick furs have burst into the queen's presence chamber. This is a game at court that we all play knowingly, and the prize is that the king shines. Among all the playacting is a single truth: the second son, the second-rate, second choice has been transmuted into gold; he is heir. Over and over again, we re-enact this miracle, as if it were the greatest luck that Arthur, the firstborn, died, and Henry became heir and then king. Twenty years ago, someone named him the 'handsomest prince in Christendom', and we have had to keep it up ever since.

When I first came to court as a maid-of-honour I was a lonely bookish little girl of eleven and he was the twenty-six-year-old dazzling young husband to a beautiful queen. I fell in love with him, with her, with the glamour and beauty of the young royal couple. Then I fell in love with the whole Boleyn family: Anne, her ambitious brother George, her sweet-natured sister Mary, their parents, and the noble House of Howard – all professional courtiers as I wanted to be, in service to the most beautiful powerful court in the world.

Now, I am a Boleyn myself, married to George for almost half my life, rising with him to the title of Lady Rochford, nearly thirty years old. The queen I first loved and served is long gone, and the handsome king is in his prime. I have watched his need for praise grow from a young man's joy to a mature man's vanity, and I have learned – we all have – to fatten the compliments to match his hunger.

'Masking and revealing is a game to him,' I say soothingly. 'He just wants the world to see that you choose him, even when he is disguised. You fall in love all over again.'

'Well, I do,' she says, with a sudden wide false smile. 'I am Anne, "The Most Happy".'

I tuck the lambswool blanket around her. Thanks to Anne, I am first lady at court, and I will be aunt to the next king of England and first in the procession to carry him to his baptism. It will be a victory parade for us beautiful, clever women – we will have defeated the old lords and won the king from them.

'When will you announce you're with child? You announced Elizabeth much earlier.'

She shrugs. 'When I choose.'

Only the favoured few know that she is expecting a baby this autumn. She is right to delay sounding the starting bell for a new race of eager young women to the king's bed; every slut at court will snatch at the king's attention when they know the queen is pregnant.

'Do something for me, Jane,' she says as I warm lavender and juniper berry oil in my palms to rub on her swollen feet and ankles. 'Speak to that Agnes girl. She's not respectful.'

Agnes is a young maid-of-honour, blonde, and agreeable. Darkhaired Anne dislikes blonde, smiling women, but still, they flock to court in their best gowns.

'What's she done?'

'Her curtsey is too shallow; she bobs up and down as if she were curtseying to nothing more than a viscountess.'

This is my title. I was born Jane Parker, won the name Boleyn through marriage, and now I am Lady Rochford. I pinch her toes, smiling. 'I'm a very grand viscountess,' I tell her.

'It's good enough for George for now,' she agrees. 'But when I give birth to a prince, I'll have him named as a duke!'

****Excerpted from the book BOLEYN TRAITOR, provided courtesy of William Morrow, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Copyright © 2025 by Philippa Gregory. Reprinted by permission.**

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