In the latest instalment of Gregory's "Cousins' War" series, Henry VII (or Henry Tudor as most subjects insist on calling him) has ascended a wobbly English throne, leaving Richard III in his dust. Pity our narrator, Elizabeth of York – not only Richard's niece and number one fan, but his willing bit on the side (Richard's main course being his ailing Queen Anne). Just when she thought it was safe to be a York daughter, Elizabeth finds herself affianced to none other than moody Henry himself, whom she holds responsible for the excision of Richard's prized organ (his throbbing, brainy head). Neither a man of the people nor a ladies' man, Henry woos his bride-to-be by raping her into pregnancy to assure himself that, if nothing else, his future Queen is fertile. Welcome to that unsettling mixture of sex and violence that was a Tudor speciality until, at least, Elizabeth I dispensed with the sex.

Philippa Gregory has made an impressive career out of breathing passionate, independent life into the historical noblewomen whose personalities had previously lain flat on family trees, remembered only as diplomatic currency and brood mares. And with The White Princess, she makes a psychologically involving page-turner of the reign that Shakespeare skipped.