Albert Frederick Pollard was a British historian who specialized in the Tudor period.
Albert Frederick Pollard was a British historian who specialized in the Tudor period.
Imperialism, Henry VIII.'s, 362, 363.
Indies, the, 51, 104.
Innocent III., 334.
Inquisition, the, 292.
Institution of a Christian Man. See Bishops' Book.
Intercursus Magnus, 48.
Ireland, Yorkist influence in, 9;
rebellions in, 10, 11, 305, 306, 366, 367;
Henry VIII. made Lord-Lieutenant of, 17;
Henry VII.'s policy in, 18;
English hold over, 245, 250;
tributary to the Pope, 275;
English rule firmly established in, 367;
other references to, 131, 150, 373.
Irish Parliament. See Parliament.
Isabella of Castile, 11, 14, 26, 27, 30, 51 n, 370.
Isabella of Portugal, 96, 167.
Italy, 29-31, 51, 53, 56, 58, 60, 66, 67, 69-71, 76, 90, 93, 94, 100, 104, 105, 114, 144, 148, 154, 159, 164, 168, 170, 215, 216, 224, 225, 227, 228, 251, 294, 358, 376, 382.
J.
James II., 186.
-- IV. of Scotland, 11, 12, 22, 48, 65, 66, 87, 88, 105, 200, 229, 234.
-- V. of Scotland, 13, 180, 305, 314, 315 n, 357, 369, 373, 402-403, 406.
Jane Seymour, Henry's attentions to, 343 n, 346-348;
her marriage to Henry, 346;
birth of her son, 360;
her death and burial, 360, 361;
other references to, 379, 384 n, 426.
Jesus College, Oxford, 21 n.
John, King, 275.
Jua?a, Queen of Castile, 27, 28, 51 and note, 52, 93 n.
Julius II., his warlike tendencies, 1 n, 52, 53, 228;
grants the dispensation for Henry VIII. to marry his brother's widow, 26, 45, 173, 193, 316 n;
joins the League of Cambrai, 29;
renews his treaties with Henry VIII., 54;
is besieged by Louis at Bologna, 55, 56, 106, 107;
Ferdinand's relations with, 59, 60;
supposed existence of a brief of, 218;
is succeeded by the peaceful Leo, 69;
other reference to, 176.
K.
Keilway, Robert, 234 n.
Kelso, 407.
Kent, 11, 252.
Kildare, Earl of. See Fitzgerald, Gerald.
Kimbolton, 335.
"King John," Shakespeare's, 35, 308.
King's Book, The, 417, 418.
Knight, Dr. William, 94, 189, 206 and note, 207, 208, 210, 214.
The History of England A Study in Political Evolution by A. F. Pollard
Albert Frederick Pollard was a British historian who specialized in the Tudor period.
Albert Frederick Pollard was a British historian who specialized in the Tudor period.
For five years, I believed I was living in a perfect marriage, only to discover it was all a sham! I discovered that my husband was coveting my bone marrow for his mistress! Right in front of me, he sent her flirtatious messages. To make matters worse, he even brought her into the company to steal my work! I finally understood, he never loved me. I stopped pretending, collected evidence of his infidelity, and reclaimed the research he had stolen from me. I signed the divorce papers and left without looking back. He thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would eventually return. But when we met again, I was holding the hand of a globally renowned tycoon, draped in a wedding dress and grinning with confidence. My ex-husband's eyes were red with regret. "Come back to me!" But my new groom wrapped his arm around my waist, and chuckled dismissively, "Get the hell out of here! She's mine now."
Her fiance and her best friend worked together and set her up. She lost everything and died in the street. However, she was reborn. The moment she opened her eyes, her husband was trying to strangle her. Luckily, she survived that. She signed the divorce agreement without hesitation and was ready for her miserable life. To her surprise, her mother in this life left her a great deal of money. She turned the tables and avenged herself. Everything went well in her career and love when her ex-husband came to her.
Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past. On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse. But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened. Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation. *** Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail. But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world."
Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.
Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief." But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be.
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