Queen of England From the moment Henry VI's new queen, Marguerite of Anjou, sets foot on English soil she is despised by the English as a foreigner, and blamed for the failures of the hundred years war in France.
Her enemies impede her role as the king’s consort and when Henry sinks into apparent madness her bid to become regent is rejected. Marguerite must fight, not only for her own position but to maintain Henry’s possession of the crown.
The ambitious Duke, Richard of York seizes control of the country, thrusting Marguerite aside and inflating the mutual hatred between the houses of York and Lancaster. But the queen refuses to relinquish power and fights determinedly for the rights of her son, Edward of Lancaster.
The long and bitter civil conflict, that has come to be known as the war of the roses, commences.
.A lifelong history enthusiast and avid reader, Judith holds a BA in English/Creative writing and an MA in Medieval Studies. She lives on the coast of West Wales where she writes both fiction and non-fiction based in the Medieval and Tudor period. Her main focus is on the perspective of historical women but she is currently writing a novel from a male perspective, that of Henry VIII himself. Her novels include: A Matter of Conscience: Henry VIII, the Aragon Years A Matter of Faith: Henry VIII, the Days of the Phoenix The Heretic Wind: the life of Mary Tudor, Queen of England Sisters of Arden: on the Pilgrimage of Grace The Beaufort Bride: Book one of The Beaufort Chronicle The Beaufort Woman: Book two of The Beaufort Chronicle The King’s Mother: Book three of The Beaufort Chronicle The Winchester Goose: at the Court of Henry VIII A Song of Sixpence: the story of Elizabeth of York Intractable Heart: the story of Katheryn Parr The Kiss of the Concubine: a story of Anne Boleyn The Song of Heledd The Forest Dwellers Peaceweaver
Judith is also a founder member of a re-enactment group called The Fyne Companye of Cambria, and makes historical garments both for the group and others. She is not professionally trained but through trial, error and determination has learned how to make authentic looking, if not strictly HA, clothing.
Her non-fiction book, How to Dress Like a Tudor will be published by Pen and Sword in 2023,
A very good historical fiction story about a Queen who is so often injustly portrayed and written about. I'm a diehard Ricardian but even I can understand and appreciate her ambition and determination to save the throne for both her husband and her son. The story starts with her marriage to King Henry VI to the end of her life. You will come away from this, hopefully, understanding this strong woman better.
I am very glad Judith had decided to write about Marguerite. Indeed, her fame is definitely not based on positive assumptions! The novel illustrates this remarkable woman as a vivid, honest and emotional portrait. A mother as well: her love for her son is obvious; a wife who remained dutiful to her husband, the King while this was definitely no easy task! Marguerite was a strong woman which proved her downfall as well as her incredibleness in the eyes of men. Indeed, in England a woman with power??? On top of that she was a foreigner, French for God's sake! I can't blame her, actually considering her "flaws" as qualities. She might not have been the easiest person to live with and for, but she suffered so many betrayals (in England as well as in France), I will not judge her! A wonderful, eye opening novel about a woman deserving a bit more positive attention! I highly recommend this novel!
Beautifully written in Marguerite of Anjou’s first person account of her life as a 15 year old bride to Henry VI and her struggle to keep her husband’s crown and then her son Edward’s as well. This is my third book by Judith Arnopp and will read her many others as well!
In "Marguerite: Hell Hath No Fury – The Story of Marguerite of Anjou", Judith Arnopp once again demonstrates her remarkable ability to breathe life into the most embattled figures of English history. Written with the sensitivity and narrative elegance one might expect from a storyteller of Arnopp’s calibre, this novel offers a portrait of Marguerite of Anjou that is both vivid and compelling, steeped in atmosphere yet driven by character.
Arnopp’s depiction of fifteenth-century England is nothing short of immersive. From the tense, faction-ridden atmosphere of Henry VI’s court to the battle-scarred landscapes that marked the bitter conflict between Lancaster and York, every scene feels grounded in authentic historical detail. Yet Arnopp avoids heavy exposition; instead, she weaves the political complexities and shifting allegiances seamlessly into the fabric of the story. The result is a setting that feels lived-in and immediate, offering readers both clarity and nuance without sacrificing narrative drive.
The story unfolds entirely through Marguerite’s eyes, allowing the reader to journey with her from the moment she arrives in England as a hopeful, wide-eyed fifteen-year-old bride. We witness her first faltering steps into queenship, the weight of expectation settling on her slender shoulders as she is crowned Queen of England and thrust into a world far more treacherous than she could have imagined. Arnopp guides us through Marguerite’s evolution with great sensitivity: from the uncertain young girl struggling to understand her pious husband, to the determined woman forced to navigate the brutal realities of civil war. By the time Marguerite finds herself a queen in exile—her husband incapacitated, then dead, possibly murdered; her beloved son slain; her cause shattered—the reader has walked every painful step with her. The transformation is profound, and Arnopp renders it with such emotional clarity that Marguerite’s final loneliness feels both inevitable and deeply moving.
King Henry VI is portrayed much as he appears in the historical record: a gentle, pious man whose temperament was far better suited to the cloister than the crown. Arnopp breathes remarkable life into him, capturing not only his saintly kindness but also the quiet tragedy of a man painfully unsuited to the brutal world in which he must rule. His insecurities, coupled with an innate inability to make firm decisions, leave him dangerously exposed to manipulation and attack—particularly from his Yorkist cousin and their ambitious faction. As his enemies press ever closer, his allies are targeted, and his position grows increasingly precarious. His utter bafflement at the idea that anyone might covet his crown—and his childlike wish that all parties might simply live in peace—underscores the depth of his naïvety. When his illness finally overwhelms him, and the realm finds itself effectively without a king, the vultures begin to circle. It is then that the burden falls squarely upon Marguerite to defend his legacy and safeguard the throne for their son.
Arnopp does not shy away from exploring the long-whispered rumour that Marguerite of Anjou had an affair with Edmund Beaufort, 2nd Duke of Somerset. In her hands, this is not a salacious subplot but a poignant and believable emotional thread. Somerset is everything Henry is not—charismatic, worldly, and passionate. Where Henry retreats into prayer and piety, Somerset would far rather be in Marguerite’s bed. His attentiveness and desire offer Marguerite the warmth, validation, and companionship she has been so painfully denied in her marriage. Arnopp handles their relationship with sensitivity, neither condemning nor romanticising it, but presenting it as the natural consequence of a lonely young queen seeking solace in a court where affection is scarce and danger ever present.
Although the fight for the crown is at the forefront of the novel, Arnopp never loses sight of the deeply human moments that define Marguerite’s journey. We see a young bride who dreams of a handsome, attentive king, only to discover the heartbreak of a husband whose thoughts drift to holier things. We witness a woman starved of affection, drawn into a dangerous seduction that offers her the warmth she so desperately craves. And, perhaps most poignantly, there is Marguerite, the mother, scolding her child for using a profanity he has been so desperate to use, even as the world collapses around them in the chaos of war. These intimate glimpses lend the narrative remarkable emotional depth, reminding us that behind the politics and the bloodshed stood a woman fiercely trying to navigate love, loyalty, and survival.
The horrors that these characters endure are almost unimaginable to modern readers. Arnopp does not soften the brutality of the cousins’ war; it is portrayed as the violent, relentless, and unforgiving struggle it truly was. Villages are razed, loyalties shattered, and noble families torn apart with chilling ease. Amidst this devastation stands Marguerite, desperate to protect her husband, her son, and the fragile Lancastrian cause that seems to slip further from her grasp with every passing season. Her determination is fierce, but it is laced with fear and heartbreak, for she is a mother fighting not just for a throne, but for the very survival of her child in a world consumed by bloodshed. Arnopp captures this desperation with striking authenticity, reminding us that behind every political manoeuvre and battlefield victory lay human lives pushed to the very brink.
Judith Arnopp’s storytelling is graceful, poignant, and rooted firmly in historical reality. Yet it is her emotional insight—her ability to step into the heart and mind of a woman repeatedly vilified by history—that makes this novel especially compelling. Readers will come away not only with a richer understanding of the period but with a renewed appreciation for Marguerite of Anjou’s courage, complexity, and indomitable spirit.
A young French princess is destined to marry the young king of England, creating an alliance between the two nations and helping to end a war. But that’s not how her life goes. Instead, she makes matters worse between France and England, she is married to a man who is more holy than a saint, she has only one child, and her new country is in the midst of a civil war. Can Marguerite of Anjou keep those that she loves safe, or will the House of York destroy everything she loves? Judith Arnopp explores the life of this remarkable queen in her latest novel, “Marguerite: Hell Hath No Fury.”
I would like to thank The Coffee Pot Book Club and Judith Arnopp for sending me a copy of this novel. I have enjoyed her novels about Margaret Beaufort, so when I heard that she was writing a novel about Margaret of Anjou, I was intrigued to see what she could add to her story.
Arnopp begins with Marguerite on the verge of leaving her beloved France to become the new Queen of England. She is to be the bride of the son of King Henry V, King Henry VI. She imagines that her new husband will be similar to his father, a warrior, and that Marguerite will be able to stop the Hundred Years’ War between France and England. Instead, she is married to Henry VI, a man who is extremely devout to his faith, and lives in an England that hates Marguerite. It's not the picture-perfect situation, but Marguerite tries to make the best of it, including falling in love not only with her husband but also with Somerset and Exeter, men loyal to her husband.
In time, Marguerite does indeed become a mother to Prince Edward, the Lancastrian heir, but it is then that her life truly begins to fall apart. A few months before, King Henry VI fell ill and remained that way for the rest of his life. Marguerite tried to become the Protector of the Realm, but the position went to Richard, Duke of York. Rivalries would turn deadly, and the Lancastrians would face the Yorkists on the battlefield. With the king incapacitated, Marguerite must be a mother, wife, queen, and general to make sure that the Lancastrian cause survives and her family can live to fight for the crown that is rightfully theirs.
This was a very good novel about a woman who was trying to keep her family and her country together while finding love. Arnopp does a great job exploring what life must have been like for Marguerite in a turbulent time. If you want a novel that explores what life was like for the Lancastrian queen during the Wars of the Roses, I recommend you read “Marguerite: Hell Hath No Fury” by Judith Arnopp.
Judith Arnopp’s Margeurite: Hell Hath No Fury is a bold and thought-provoking addition to her distinguished body of work, tackling one of history’s most controversial women—Marguerite of Anjou—with deftness and insight. In this gripping novel, Arnopp paints her subject with both compassion and steel, exploring the complexity of a queen too often vilified in the annals of history. With her hallmark lyrical prose and meticulous research, she brings nuance to a much-maligned legacy, challenging long-held assumptions while staying grounded in historical truth. Margeurite is not only a powerful reimagining, but also a testament to Arnopp’s skill in giving voice to the silenced and misunderstood. Through Marguerite’s searing internal monologue, Arnopp offers not just a glimpse into the psyche of a warrior queen, but a fully realized portrait of grief transmuted into memory and rage. The writing is visceral and exquisitely controlled, capturing Marguerite’s physical, emotional, and political suffering with stark clarity. And yet, she is never passive. Betrayed, exiled, and diminished by history, Marguerite speaks with a voice fractured by loss but still resonant with steel. Lines like “Queen of obscurity, of notoriety. I curse each day as it dawns...” are steeped in tragic irony—this once powerful consort is now reduced to a forgotten relic. But Arnopp doesn’t leave her in the shadows. Marguerite names her enemies, speaks her truth, and reclaims a narrative that history has too often denied her. Her fury is righteous, her grief palpable. When she declares “Edward the regicide, the usurper who killed my son, and murdered my king,” there is no mistaking the raw wound or the indomitable strength beneath it. Arnopp’s genius lies in showing that endurance can be its own form of power. This is not just a queen’s lament—it’s a reckoning with the consequences of power, gender, and war. In Marguerite: Hell Hath No Fury, Judith Arnopp gives us a heartbreakingly human and historically fearless novel that lingers long after the final page. As both a reader and a historian, I found it impossible to look away. Highly Recommend.
After years of disliking Marguerite, I forced myself to look at the reign of Henry VI from her point of view. Judith is a trustworthy guide, and she shows us a young and innocent girl sacrificed to her family’s ambitions—as was usual for a nobly born daughter. She went to her marriage bed not knowing what to expect, and at first, King Henry seemed like a promising husband. But that didn’t last. His natural disinclination to a physical relationship was more than disappointing; it was downright dangerous:
It has been two years since I first went to Henry’s bed, and still there is no sign of a child. Each month I hope but every time those hopes are dashed. I feel responsible, as if I am doing something wrong. People are beginning to whisper that not only did I come to this marriage with no dowry but I am also failing to fulfil my most important role. The royal womb is as empty as the king’s coffer, they mock.
In these early years, her focus was on her own loneliness. No wonder she was susceptible to attentions from another man. At least she finally fell pregnant, never knowing whether the baby was Henry’s child or not. It didn’t really matter. He was the only heir and needed to be cherished. Once the war in France took a disastrous turn and King Henry fell into a stupor, Marguerite’s focus changed to preserving the throne for her son at any cost. Internal divisions and the Duke of York’s aspirations drove the country to civil war. Personal antagonism was inevitable, and we could see vindictiveness creep in to Marguerite’s behavior. That’s when we begin to see the queen we love to hate. But circumstances certainly explain her attitude. She was truly in a no-win situation. What a sad life!
Judith Arnopp does not only narrate the story of Marguerite of Anjou; she welcomes us into her cage. From the moment the young French princess steps foot on English soil, we are connected to her fate: suspicion as a foreigner, dismissal as a woman, and loathed as the wife of a shattered monarch. There is no romantic gloss, gilded crowns, or courtly grace. Instead, Arnopp provides something far more powerful: the gradual deterioration of hope, the iron cost of queenship, and the inner scream of a woman rendered monster by time. Marguerite begins as a dutiful bride, aching with megrim and uncertainty, clinging to dignity in dusty inns and dim chambers. We feel her loneliness, her foreignness, her terror of insignificance. But when Henry VI falters into madness and the wolves of York circle, Marguerite hardens. She becomes not the English queen they wanted, but the lioness they feared. Arnopp's style is sensitive and unwavering. Through illness, exile, defeat, and the long winter of Wallingford, we see Marguerite in ruins, aged, lost, unrecognisable even to her own mirror. However, the black bird of mourning continues to circle, and she refuses to yield. This is not the roar of hell has no fury, but the quivering whisper of a woman who has lost everything save her faith in vengeance. This novel isn't about battles. It is about endurance. Concerning the diminishing value of a crown. About a queen who, despite history dubbed her a she-wolf, was in reality a woman cornered, fighting not for glory, but for the one thing they couldn't take away from her: her son's bloodright.
Another reviewer stated they thought this read more like a list of battles and land fights, of territories and landscaped images. I agree. The limited dialogue gives the impression that there was so much that could have been said, but I think there's just a dearth of valid scholarship on this woman, who never once behaved as her contemporaries but more as a person who would buck any and all tide to see her offspring endowed as King of England. I had to refresh my knowledge of the particular battles that saw the war of the roses to this point, but Tewkesbury remained in my base as the most decisive, since it ended the Lancastrian claim to the throne and cemented the Yorkist claim. I didn't quite follow the changing alliances of all the names, since on occasion legal names were used in place of territorial ones. Suffice it to say as an American, it was still an enjoyable read, regardless of the names and ranks with which I was unfamiliar. The dialogue, being mostly from the remembrances of Marguerite, was a bit sketchy, but sufficient to follow the storyline. I would wonder how, if current world events could ever be seen and read by the persons who lived through history, we would be treated by novelists or poets. We should be able to do better, but it seems to me that all we have done is make more deadly weapons and promote societal rage and hate better than ever before. We are not learning from history.
Careful of what you wish for....especially if you are Margueriite of Anjou! If you think all queens are swirling their skirts about the palace, surrounded by their ladies in waiting, think again. It seems as if the game of politics has always been, only changed by the players and the weapons they carry... Yet, imagine yourself at 14, married off and traveled to a foreign land, to be joined to the weakest of Kings. King Henry VI welcome holds on to his sanity, much less his kingdom. It is Margeurite who is left fighting for not only her King but also the kingdom. Power hungry men, some dressed as servants and some as friends, constantly battle against a young woman who refuses to give up. Can one woman's tenacity be enough to save her son and see him sit upon his rightful throne, or will one battle be the last? I so wish I had had Judith Arnold as a history teacher, but actually, alas, I do! Though she threads her stories with fiction they are weaved with much history! And it is history she makes easier to remember, characters come alive as you share in their triumphs, loves and losses! Though my favorite may remain her story of Anne Boleyn and King Henry VIII, she grants me passage back to yester year with rich colours, back to earlier time filled with other strong women... This is The War Of The Roses!
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 A Gripping, Powerful Portrait of a Misunderstood Queen
Marguerite: Hell Hath No Fury by Judith Arnopp is absolutely riveting! From the first page, Marguerite is more than just the shadowy figure from a child’s nightmare—she is vivid, brave, and unrelenting. Arnopp has brought her to life in a way that few historical novels manage to do.
Marguerite was a woman ahead of her time, navigating a world dominated by powerful English politicians and military leaders determined to silence her. But she never backed down. This book shows her not only as a fierce protector of her husband’s and son’s claim to the throne, but also as a woman with her own motivations and ambitions.
Married young to a man more monk than king, she was thrust into a foreign court, forced to learn its language, customs, and politics. And instead of shrinking back, she rose to the challenge—leading, surviving, and fighting for what was hers.
Arnopp’s writing is immersive, intelligent, and emotionally charged. I couldn’t put it down. This novel has made me see Marguerite not just as a historical figure, but as a complex, courageous woman who deserves to be remembered. Highly recommended!
Loved, loved, loved this excellent book. I was so engrossed all the way through and I need a bit of breathing space before starting something else, because I keep thinking about it. Yes, that good.
This was particularly fascinating for me because although I know the ins and outs of the later years of the Wars of the Roses, I had huge gaps in my knowledge about how it started and how Marguerite got to where she was. Also, it was most interesting to read about the younger years of the three sons of York, about Elizabeth Woodville and her mother Jacquetta, about Margaret Beaufort and others.
Painted as she is all too often in history, I too thought of Marguerite as a ruthless vixen, but Judith Arnopp portrays her in such a way that one can totally see her point of view, and what drove her on, and on and on. Of course history is written by the victors; I wonder if Ms Arnopp's versions of Richard of York and Edward of March (never mind Warwick) are also more accurate than those seen in other books, not least of all those made into BBC TV dramas.
I was thinking, afterwards, about how so many lives could have been saved, including almost everyone Marguerite cared about, had she succumbed to the inevitable and allowed Edward to take the crown the York army believed was rightfully his, but there is no definite answer to who should have worn it; the lines of succession were so ... messy. I wondered if she would have fought so hard if just for her husband, poor Henry VI, if there was no son. Would the honour of the country she was fated to rule be enough? Motherhood made her a fierce lioness, but so many died for her cause; was she right to let this happen?
If only she could have married Edmund of Somerset instead!
Anyway, this is a terrific book in which I became so emotionally involved. I was impressed by the way Marguerite's life fitted so perfectly into one novel without ever coming across as written at too fast a pace; the detail is all there where you need it. This is a writer who knows when a year needs one paragraph and moment needs two pages. An absolute winner, and a 'must read' for anyone who loves this period of history. Well done, Judith Arnopp - every book is better than the last!
Judith Arnopp is one of my favourite authors, so I was relieved to see she had recently published a book about Marguerite of Anjou and her place in the Wars of the Roses. I was looking forward to a comfy, familiar read by this excellent writer. Sadly, I felt I was reading a list of dates of battles and deaths of main players. I don't feel I know anyone's potential motivations any better than I did when I opened the book. I read it to the end, and I wish I hadn't, but I kept believing it'd improve.
I found this book very unsatisfying. The story of a royal exchange for peace between France and England, only to result in the deaths of most involved. Would not spend my time on reading it again.
Judith Arnopp is one of my favorite Tudor fiction authors, who consistently provides fresh insights into well-documented history. In this book, she documents the period immediately preceding the War of the Roses, the reign of Henry the Mad King.
"Englishmen detest women who interfere, women who seek to rule. They think we should be for decoration only. A pretty ornament that pops our babies." Marguerite of Anjou never stood a chance in her marriage to Henry VI, a weak man who didn't have the temperament to rule. She was belittled and smeared by the men who fought over control of her husband. Marguerite had expected to rule in a partnership with Henry, as her grandmother and mother had done in their duchies of Aragon and Anjou.
History and Shakespeare have been unkind to Marguerite, but when has history ever been kind to headstrong or powerful women? She fiercely protected her husband's throne when he was incapacitated and shielded him from scorn. She fought for her son's right to succeed his father, against overwhelming odds, and lost both of them. She was doomed, no matter what she did.
"Marguerite posed a threat to male rule that the medieval world was unprepared to make." Sadly, the world hasn't changed much when it comes to women in leadership positions. Once again, Judith Arnopp has given a voice to a woman who deserves a better place in a tumultuous time.