EPILOGUE
The children Penelope left behind were scattered across two households and, eventually, across two opposing sides of English history.
Two brothers, born of the same mother, ended up on opposite sides of the war.
One commanded ships for Parliament. The other lost his head for the king.
It is difficult not to notice the echo: nearly fifty years after Robert Devereux lost his head for rebelling against a Tudor monarch, his nephew lost his in almost the same manner, for the opposite cause, under a different crown entirely.
Sadly, Mountjoy’s three sons each lived with some form of disability and died without heirs. The line Penelope had fought so fiercely to legitimize ended entirely within a single generation of the son she had named for love rather than law.
In the centuries following her death, Penelope was remembered primarily for scandal.
It has only been in recent generations that historians have begun to look past the gossip to understand her contributions.
She conducted secret diplomatic correspondence with a future king.
She managed her brother’s political alliances.
And she defied nearly every convention her society placed upon women of her rank in pursuit of a life she considered genuinely her own.
Whether history ultimately judges her more for her courage or her defiance likely depends on who is doing the judging.
This is a pattern Penelope herself predicted in this novella, and one that has followed women like her for centuries since.
Author’s Note
This novella is a work of historical fiction, and I want to be transparent about where the historical record ends and where imagination takes over.
The major events of Penelope Devereux’s life are drawn directly from documented history.
She was born into the powerful Devereux family, and her mother’s scandalous secret marriage to Robert Dudley shaped her earliest years.
She was arranged into marriage with Robert Rich, and carried on a long relationship with Charles Blount, with whom she had several children.
She conducted a secret correspondence with James VI under a pseudonym and lived through her brother’s rebellion and execution before eventually securing a divorce and remarrying.
She died in July 1607. The timeline of these events, the people involved, and the scandal that followed her throughout her life all reflect the historical record as closely as I could determine it.
The early proposed match between Penelope and Philip Sidney, arranged by her father shortly before he died in 1576, is documented in a contemporary letter. It never became a formal contract and lapsed after her father’s death.
Where the historical record is genuinely uncertain, such as whether Penelope was truly the “Stella” of Philip Sidney’s sonnets, I have let Penelope hold her own opinion while acknowledging that certainty on this question remains impossible.
I have invented the private moments that no historical document could ever capture: Penelope’s exact words in private conversation, her innermost thoughts during pivotal decisions, and the specifics of scenes that took place behind closed doors centuries before anyone thought to record them.
I wrote these moments to feel true to what we know of Penelope’s character and circumstances.
But they are, ultimately, my own creation rather than documented fact.
I have also taken minor liberties with pacing and structure in service of narrative flow. Wherever possible, I tried to keep these inventions consistent with what historians generally agree happened, rather than contradicting the record for the sake of drama.
Penelope Devereux lived a life defined by choices that her society considered scandalous. But her resilience outlasted the judgment of many who condemned her. I hope I’ve done her justice.
Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading about Penelope’s life.