Along the way, there's a passing examination of one of the great mysteries of the time - and still today - the fate of the princes in the Tower (Edward and Richard, Elizabeth and Edward's heirs) and whether they were killed by the much-maligned Richard III.
With the book providing only the skimpiest of family trees - where are all the siblings, the birthdates, the marriages? - the histories take some concentrated reading, not helped by the narrowest range of children's names outside of a private school: Richard/Edward/George/Henry or Elizabeth/Anne/Margaret.
But the queens and would-be queen mothers are in good hands: Baldwin's earlier book on Elizabeth Woodville and Jones' on Margaret Beaufort were both considered the authoritative histories of these rarely examined women.
Gregory's writing is more staunchly feminist than that of her colleagues. In interviews, on her website and in her introduction she points out that women's stories were rarely recorded, both because female historians barely practised until the last century and because contemporary chroniclers focused on battles and politics.
It wasn't helped by some handy re-arranging of the records by their contemporaries - Jaquetta was tried as a witch, Elizabeth accused of being a whore and of sorcery, while Tudor historians pegged Margaret as pious and saintly, not party to the dirty world of politics.
Myths and rumours still swirl about Richard III and the poor princes in the Tower - there is even a pro-Richard society of some 3500 souls dedicated to defending his reputation 500 years after his death.
Gregory's introduction of how history is written should be required reading for every NCEA student struggling through their swot this month: historical theories and revelations come and go, original medieval records are still, astonishingly, being uncovered and there is more juice to be wrung out of one of England's favourite historical period. With or without bodices being ripped.
Catherine Smith is editor of the Herald's Weekend Life section.