WHEN I was twenty-one, I travelled from Vienna to Lon­don to study history, history of art and interior design. I decorated my small new apartment entirely in black and white, drove a black and white Mini and acquired a black and white kit­ten. When my mother heard that I also wore only black and white, she thought it was time for her to visit. I had no real reason for adopting my monochrome life-style except that I thought it chic and different. Then my mother told me about Diane de Poitiers, our ancestor, who fa­mously styled her whole life - and her country - in black and white.

Throughout my youth, my mother had always recounted to us children, stories from history involving our ancestors – the 'Saints and the Sinners' as we called them, but never did she mention Diane de Poitiers. This grand, 16th century French lady was a king's mistress, and although we descended from her younger daughter by her legiti­mate union, my religious Mama considered Diane an unsuitable sub­ject for chaste bed-time stories. Once she had been informed of my lapse into a chiaroscuro world, it was time for bed-time stories of a grown-up nature.

Now I had a real reason for my black and white life-style. Learn­ing about Diane and her use of black and white influenced me to the extent that I even planted a black and white garden in her honour. I searched for and found black flowers - irises, tulips, violas - to put in beds shaped in squares, triangles or diamonds, all framed in box. I read everything I could find about my heroine. Her character was like her palette - contrasting and uncompromising; there were no grey ar­eas with Diane de Poitiers.

In France, Diane de Poitiers is a household name, but to other readers, she is less well known. I hope with this book to put that right. Diane's love story is the greatest in French royal history. She lived at a time of giants: François I the Renaissance King of France; the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V who ruled more territory than anyone in the known world; Henry VIII King of England who would cause bloody schism in his country on account of his passion for Anne Bo­leyn; the two Medici popes, Leo X and Clement VIII whose machina­tions swung the delicate balance of power between France and the Empire; and the Infidel Sultan-Suleiman the Magnificent, ruler of the Ottoman Empire. It was the time when Europe was emerg­ing from the darkness and superstition of the Middle Ages into the light of the Renaissance, and the brave ships of discovery sailed treacherous, uncharted seas to bring home knowledge of the un­known and the spoils of the New World.

DIANE'S character had as many phases as the moon, her alter ego, whereas her rival Catherine de' Medici's was famously duplicitous. I hope to examine both women in detail so that the reader can know them within the kaleidoscopic fabric of their time. I do not seek to exonerate Diane as a partner to the king's adultery, nor from her greed or her support of the king's religious persecutions. She was a woman of her time, but since I descend just as directly from Cather­ine de' Medici as I do from Diane de Poitiers, I have no personal in­terest in damning the one while glorifying the other. I simply want to tell the story of a beautiful, cultured and fascinating woman. Diane de Poitiers lived in a ménage à trois, for even at the most intimate mo­ments, there were always three in that royal marriage - the king, his wife and his mistress.

I am not a qualified historian, but rather a teller of stories from history.

My initial inspiration was my late mother, one of the few women admitted to the University of Vienna who read History. We children needed no television; our mother would enthral us with her tales of the past. She has always been my Muse. Later, I had the privilege to have been encouraged and advised by Elizabeth (Lady) Longford to whom I shall always be grateful. There are a number of others I wish to thank: my agents Sam Haskell and Suzanne Gluck for press-gang­ing me into writing another book when I was content creating and presenting lectures. I am grateful to my editor Trish Todd who had faith, gave never-ending constructive criticism, and waited patiently for me to finish.

The person who deserves the most gratitude is my dear husband who has tolerated my silences, my absences and all my frustrations. With heroic forbearance he did not complain when I had no time for him and never failed to listen and encourage me. Furthermore, he is a stickler for grammar and corrected mine.

To him I dedicate this book.

H.R.H. PRINCESS MICHAEL OF KENT 25th September 2003