For decades, Jane Seymour appeared to possess the kind of life Hollywood manufactures for the screen: extraordinary beauty, international fame and an elegance that seemed untouched by time. Yet behind that polished image lies a private history filled with shattered marriages, financial devastation, painful betrayals and one remarkably intimate late-life surprise.

Born Joyce Penelope Wilhelmina Frankenberg in England, Seymour transformed herself into an international sensation after appearing as Solitaire opposite Roger Moore in the 1973 James Bond film Live and Let Die. Fame arrived quickly—but lasting romantic happiness proved far more difficult to find.

Seymour has walked down the aisle four times.

Her first husband was theatre director Michael Attenborough, the son of legendary filmmaker Richard Attenborough. They married in 1971, when Seymour was still at the beginning of her career, but divorced two years later. Despite the marriage’s collapse, Seymour later described that period as a special chapter and said they remained close friends.

Her second marriage, to Geoffrey Planer, was even shorter. By the early 1980s, however, she seemed to have found stability with businessman David Flynn. They married in 1981 and had two children, Katherine and Sean.

But that relationship ended with more than emotional damage.

Seymour has said business decisions connected to Flynn left her financially devastated. By the time their marriage ended in 1992, the successful actress reportedly found herself effectively penniless and facing enormous financial pressure. Suddenly, the glamorous former Bond girl needed work—not simply to remain famous, but to survive.

Then came Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman.

The television series became one of Seymour’s defining successes, transforming her into a beloved household name. Yet the role that appeared to represent a professional triumph was born during one of the most frightening periods of her private life.

In 1993, Seymour married actor and director James Keach. They later welcomed twin sons, John and Kristopher, following IVF treatment and a difficult pregnancy. The twins were named partly in honor of family friends Johnny Cash and Christopher Reeve.

For more than two decades, Seymour and Keach looked like one of Hollywood’s more enduring couples. Behind the scenes, however, their relationship was deteriorating. They separated in 2013, and their divorce was finalized in 2015.

Seymour subsequently described her divorces as deeply painful and said she had not been the person who wanted her marriages to end. Nevertheless, she chose an unexpectedly peaceful path after the breakups. For the sake of her children, she maintained relationships with her third and fourth husbands—and even with their new partners.

“I don’t love how the marriages ended,” she acknowledged, but said the shared experiences and affection did not simply disappear. In a 2024 interview, Seymour explained that she had managed to recover the good parts of those relationships without denying their painful endings.

Following her divorce from Keach, Seymour became involved with British producer and director David Green. Their romance lasted approximately nine years, and Green reportedly proposed. Seymour declined, insisting that after four husbands, she did not want to add another number to the list.

The couple eventually separated in 2023, explaining that they were better suited as friends.

It appeared Seymour had accepted that traditional romance might no longer be part of her future. Then her children helped create another dramatic twist.

Seymour met musician and emergency-room physician John Zambetti, whose life combined two worlds she understood well: creativity and medicine. Their children reportedly knew one another and helped bring them together. What began later in life became, according to Seymour, one of the healthiest and most loving relationships she had experienced.

She has spoken unusually candidly about their connection, rejecting the assumption that passion disappears with age. Seymour publicly described herself as sexually active and argued that older people should not be embarrassed about intimacy, affection or desire.

The couple even developed an unusually romantic ritual: they celebrate their anniversary every month on the fourth, with Zambetti reportedly marking the occasion with roses. Seymour explained that at their age, time feels precious enough to celebrate in months rather than years. She described him in 2026 as her perfect match and the “icing on the cake” of an already full life.

Now 75, Seymour’s most compelling performance may have nothing to do with acting. After four divorces, financial ruin and years of rebuilding, she has refused to become cynical.

Her private story is not the flawless Hollywood fairy tale audiences once imagined. It is messier, darker and far more fascinating: a story of a woman who lost love repeatedly, nearly lost everything else—and still dared to open her heart one more time.