~The Yew Garden~

October 1471....

"Jane Shore, her name is all around the court" The name of Edward's latest whore was spat from the lips of the Queen like poison, her eyes flashing with hatred. Together with Catherine and her brother, she sat in the gardens of Westminster, they clad in cloaks but she in only her gown, using the anger in her veins to warm her.

If anything, she relished the bitter chill that nipped at her skin for it reflected what lay in her heart, a seething resentment conjured by what she'd seen the night in late August when she'd gone to Edward to tell him of her pregnancy. Instead of finding him ready to listen, she'd found him in bed with his latest whore, who rocked her lithe hips back and forth atop him while he moaned his pleasure.

She'd always known her husband would not be one to lie faithfully at her feet but it was one thing to know and another to see. That night, she had seen in full what was whispered on the lips of others about the King's favourites and her heart almost broke from it. Why wasn't she enough for him? In the same way Catherine was for Richard?

"And what does that afford her?" The young Duchess asked, exchanging a worried look with Anthony. They'd had rarely seen their Queen so distraught.
"I don't know" Elizabeth replied, drumming her fingers on the bench beneath her, nails scraping against the cold stone "that's what I'm trying to find out"
"Have you tried asking Edward?"

"And what should she say?" Anthony sighed "What on earth is their to say? Your husband is a King with a King's appetites" His sister took in a sharp breath at that, sitting up stiffly "This is his nature as you have always known. Whoring is merely a sport to Edward, the same as hunting or riding!"
"Oh he was certainly riding that night" She seethed "And so was that little red-haired whore. She is different!"

Catherine shook her head, taking Elizabeth's freezing hands in her own before she could grind her nails to dust.

"She is no different" She told her firmly "You are the Queen. You flatter her to even dwell on her name!"
"He cares for her!" The Queen replied sharply, gathering her skirts and rising from the bench "I saw it" And with that, she swept away into the bushes, cradling the small curve beneath her gown.

"She will do naught but ill to her and the babe if she carries on so" Anthony murmured and the Duchess sighed beside him, watching Elizabeth's golden crown disappear into the distance.

"Who is this Jane Shore? She is not a noble or I would know her but I don't believe Edward now brings brothel whores to the palace"
"She's the wife of a London mercer" He answered "Her Father supplies cloth to the royal household and it seems she has caught our King's eye...enough for him to procure a divorce for her anyway...."

꧁꧂

December 1471, Westminster Palace....

"Have you seen aught of the Lady Anne?" Catherine asked as she watched Margery weave pearls and sprigs of Christmas berries into her hair, fashioning them into a crown of gold, white and crimson on her head as every noblewoman did.

He gown was also of crimson hue, trimmed with sable fur and bearing her sigil, stitched in gold thread upon the bodice. With a finger, she traced the falcon and the flowers it held, glancing up to her friend when she shook her head.

"No" Margery replied, her voice muffled with a mouthful of iron pins, frowning as she slid one into a carefully crafted plait adorned with pearls "She is not even a ghost for her shadow lingers in no corners and no evidence of her presence is present! I heard from a lady of her grace of Clarence that Lady Anne spends most of her time in the chapel"

Catherine sighed, lifting up a nearby ring and holding it to the shards of light streaming through the window behind the dressing table. Delicate flecks of snow fell from the sky, melting on the glass and trickling down like tears, tears she thought Anne still shed.
"Will you dance with me?" She asked, unable to refrain from grinning when Margery's pins dropped to the floor as a result of her jaw slackening with shock "at the Christmas festivities?"

"Me, Cat?" She asked and Catherine nodded, turning around in her chair to truly face her friend.
"You" She confirmed "This season is a time of joy and we both deserve to share in it! There are dances for women at court and when one is played we shall dance together! Just as we used to do as girls!"
"But you are a Duchess, only one of similar rank may dance with you"

"Ah but you are so much more than that, Margie!" Catherine told her "You are more than an equal, you are my friend....you know I think of you as..." Her voice faltered somewhat and she smiled "the older sister that I never had" Margery's shocked expression softened and tears pricked her eyes.

"Oh Cat" She whispered, pulling her to her feet and into a firm embrace "You are a sister to me too" The Duchess chuckled, pulling away with tears of her own sliding down her cheeks.

"Then it is settled!" She said, taking up her friend's hands to place them gently against the folds of her gown protecting her belly "When this child is born. You shall be one of their Godmothers"

꧁꧂

"Her grace, Princess Catherine, Duchess of Gloucester and Lady Margery Paston"

Garlands of seasonal greenery wound around the legs of the polished trestle tables lining the great hall. Cloth of gold lay atop it, laden with silver plates full to the brim with a King's feast. Roast goose, suckling pig, peppered and spiced, mulled red wine, amongst many other great delights. The courtiers were a sea of red and white of green velvet and sable fur trimmed with fine lace and brocade.

Veils flowed in silken waterfalls from hennins, adorned by jewels and pearls beyond count that were also worn on necks and fingers, making the nobles glimmer from head to toe. Some talked, smiling into the faces of friends, others danced to the merry melody's played by minstrels garbed in murrey and blue. Their skilled fingers plucked at lutes, flutes and harps, sending angelic notes through the air

Arm in arm, Catherine and Margery strode through the great hall, the Duchess nodding to those who bowed and curtsied to her, inclining their heads in reverence.

"Ah, Dickon!" She called when she saw her husband, a wide grin spreading onto her face at the sight of the men surrounding him. The boys she'd known and cherished with all her heart. The boys she'd climbed Penn Hill with and prayed for during the past months when everyone's fate was uncertain. Two that set her husband at ease, coaxing his seldom heard easy laugh to the air, a boyish grin to his lips that told of mischief.

Francis and Rob.

"Cat!" The latter greeted when she came close enough, drawing her quickly into a warm hug "Dear God it is good to see you! And you too, Margery!" Margery smiled, embracing Francis before she and Catherine exchanged friend's, clinging to them with fond memories of childhood stirred in their minds.
"Of course Richard has told us about the babe!" Francis told Catherine merrily when she drew away "He also tells me that I am to be the Godfather!"

"Well, one of them!" Richard chuckled, toasting his friend with the silver goblet he held "Edward is disgruntled that he is not the Godfather of my little knight, I shan't deny him a second time"
"Which once again proves you are wise!" Rob exclaimed, wandering to a nearby table and collecting two warm goblets of spiced wine for the new arrivals "Really, Dickon, you are a blessing to us all"

Richard arched an eyebrow, holding out a ringed hand and smiling when Catherine slipped her delicate one into it, allowing him to pull her gently against his side.
"Cate is the true blessing" He told their friends "For she carries our child!"
"Another Prince or Princess of York!" Margery chimed, raising her goblet and prompting the others to do the same "We all wish you a healthy pregnancy, Cat!"

"That we do!" Francis agreed before the minstrels stuck up a new melody and the young Duchess gave a cry of delight. Passing her goblet quickly to her husband, she took Margery's hand, grinning at her.
"It is time!" She giggled, eagerly leading her towards the dance floor from which the men departed and the women descended.

Forming two equal lines, they curtsied to one another, hands intertwining and feet hopping as they began to dance. They twirled around each other like lively nymphs, skirts swishing and figures gliding across the polished floor while their shoes tapped along to the merry melody played. The dance was one they all knew, the steps a memory as old as time and as easy as breathing to perform.

As the first set came to an end, they curtsied to one another, Catherine to Margery, a sister to a sister, before they moved along in one easy step to the next noblewoman. The Duchess' breath hitched as she came to face her second partner, her senses assailed with the pleasing scent of oranges.

The woman before her was not known to her and yet she needed not even a whisper to realize who she was. Her face was beguiling as was rumoured, her gaze as captivating; her voice as light and charming when a pretty laugh escaped her pink lips.

Jane Shore.

Her hair was of fire, dancing around her heart shaped face in stream of flame-like ringlets. Her skin was pale and smooth as buttermilk, possessing a youthful glow that gave an enticing twinkle to her grey eyes. She was undeniably enchanting, a fact that made Catherine almost glare at the redhead when their hands touched, palms sliding against one another's.

"Your grace"
She spoke with an ease that almost made the Duchess laugh. No other would address her so familiarly (though Jane had used the correct title), and so Catherine reserved herself to the clipped reply protocol demanded. Even with the King's whore.

"Mistress Shore"
Jane smiled, pretty dimples dipping into her cheeks.
"I believe you are with child!" She said merrily, spinning with the grace of an angel while those seemingly entrancing eyes searched her new acquaintance's face. Her smile widened when she saw one telltale hand flit across the Duchess' belly "I offer my congratulations"

Catherine arched her eyebrows, keeping her gaze averted to continue with her facade of cool indifference.

"Indeed I am with child" She replied "but, pray tell, what ear did you hear the news from? The court or the King?" Janes pretty feet halted their graceful steps at that and while the others dance on around them, Catherine stopped too. Finally letting their eyes meet again "Oh, you of all should know that the court holds no secrets, Mistress Shore, and the Queen, your Queen, holds no secrets from me"

Jane cast her gaze to the ground, her merry demeanour fading somewhat, making her somewhat shrink away like a flower in a storm. It was almost enough to make Catherine regret her harsh tongue but the call of royal trumpets made her cast all sense of that aside and she raised her chin proudly.

"King Edward and Queen Elizabeth of England!"

A guard cried, banging his staff against the floor as the King and his consort appeared, dressed in cloth of silver; crowns upon their heads. But not united even though they held hands and walked in stepped with one another. There was a coolness between them, a guilt in Edward's eyes and a sadness in Elizabeth's, one that only settled when she gazed upon her brother Anthony for a lingering moment before Edward led her away.

Catherine immediately went to her, sending a commanding glance over her shoulder that told Jane to stay put. The woman obeyed. Gliding to her husband's side, she curtsied low when their rulers came before them, unable to smile at Edward's merry greeting when Elizabeth appeared so forlorn beside him.

Stepping forward, as if in greeting while Richard embraced his King, she took Elizabeth's hands, pressing a reassuring kiss to her cheek and forcing their eyes to meet.

"You are the Queen" She whispered "None can take that from you" Elizabeth's eyes flicked to hers, her cold hands gently squeezing her friend's before Edward led her away again. She went like a glimmering ghost, seen by all and yet hardly there, gazing on the court in a trancelike state that remained when she ascended to her throne.

Catherine quickly followed, weaving through noblewomen as they began to dance again, Jane now with a new partner and smiling once more. She ascended the dais, noting how already the King's eyes wandered to his Mistress, trailing over her figure with desire. He could not help himself, even in public, and Catherine frowned as she stood beside the Queen's throne.

Elizabeth too watched Jane Shore but she did not see the beauty her husband did, the red ringlets and enchanting smile. She only saw the cuckoo pushing her from her rightful nest and searched for a reason why Edward allowed this intruder into his heart so readily. Just as she'd said, she was not the same as the others, the many dozens that had passed through the King's doors, into his bed and out again.

Jane had stayed. With her pretty face and lithe body untainted by the trials of childbirth, her merry laugh and charming smile. She gazed back at the King with brazen openness, even turning her head to allow her eyes to remained on his face when she spun. Elizabeth could not bear it, such open humiliation

Clenching her fists, she rose from her throne and retreated from the dais with Catherine in tow. Cradling her swollen belly she held her head high and strode through the sea of nobles that curtsied but watched her, whispering, all knowing. Jane's name had been all around the court for many months and now they knew the woman's presence inflamed the Queen's chagrin.

The Duchess hurried after her, trying to keep firmly on her heels while Elizabeth escaped the hall and strode through the halls of the palace.
"We shall see my Mother" She called over her shoulder "She will provide council"

"Of course" Catherine agreed. If anyone could provide solace to the Queen it was Jaquetta, ever the fountain of calming wisdom. Suddenly a figure in sage green appeared at the end of a hallway, on her knees and with her dark golden head bent.

The Queen did not notice her, too distressed and occupied was she but Catherine immediately recognised Anne Neville and waved her friend on. She hadn't seen the girl for seven months and so to glimpse her now was a blessing, one she would not let pass by.

She came to the edge of Anne's skirts that had pooled around her and Elizabeth did not so much as look over her shoulder as she disappeared from sight.

For a moment, Catherine stared down at the girl before her, wondering why she did not raise her head, why she wore green and not the deep black of mourning.

"Anne?"

Finally, she looked up but her face was not filled with the sadness and grief the Duchess has expected to see. No, it was filled with anger and when she rose to her feet, a flash of Neville determination resonated in her eyes, very almost like her dead Father's.

"At Tewksbury Richard said he was taking me to safety!" She hissed and Catherine frowned at the unfamiliar venom in her words.
"You are not happy here?"
"Of course I'm not!"
Elizabeth suddenly called her name, her voice echoing throughout the halls and she gave a small nod to Anne.
"Meet me in the Yew Garden after dinner" She murmured "I'll be waiting"

꧁꧂

With a cloak firmly wrapped around her shoulders, Catherine hurried through the gardens, repeatedly glancing over her shoulder to ensure she was not being followed. The flickering lights of the palace glimmered in the distance and if it were not for the light of the moon, she would've been completely blind. Richard had tried to insist he go with her but she'd steadfastly refused, not wanting Anne to fear she'd gotten her into trouble.

Still, even then, Catherine could see her husband's figure leant against the open palace door, keeping watch over the gardens for any sign of danger. He was always protective of her but never more so than when she was pregnant and by God he was beginning to act exactly how he'd done when she'd carried Henry! Exactly as worried, exactly as fussy, always insisting he was with her or asking if she was well.

Soon enough, she knew he would be taking some of Margery's duties for his own!

The solitary walk (however alert she was) gave her time to think, to grieve before she was forced to think. For Jaquetta, the sweet, strong, powerful matriarch of the Woodville family was dying. Her heart had begun to flutter strangely and she was kept to her rooms, forcing her to avoid the Christmas festivities even though Catherine recalled she loved nothing more than to be apart of them!

The woman in bed she'd seen mere hours before, wrapped in furs and with ashen skin was far from the graceful one she'd known those past years. She'd cried with the Queen at the sight. It was almost impossible to imagine Elizabeth without her Mother by her side, ever a rock to cling to in hardship and her youngest child was only thirteen! So young to be an orphan....

Stepping into the walled yew garden, she looked around for the Neville girl, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw her shadow lingering near a tree. After their interaction many months ago, she feared she would not come.

"Anne?"

Anne turned around, her face as serious and distressed as it had been in the light of afternoon. Catherine swiftly approached her but she turned away again, a hand rubbing her forehead "Anne when Richard brought you here he thought he was bringing you to a place of safety! On his word and mine we had no idea you were in distress!"

The girl frowned and shook her head, leaning weakly against the nearby tree trunk.
"George holds me captive and you knew nothing of it?"
"I did not!" Catherine said which only served to make Anne scoff almost incredulously.
"For seven months no one but my sister and her ever present flock of ladies has seen me from one day, one week to the next!" She cried, turning to face the Duchess again "Didn't you wonder where I was?"

'Don't seek me out' She'd said when they'd last met but Catherine would not bring that up now.
"I did more than wonder" She said instead and it was true "I asked you, often, but was always supplied with some excuse! George said you were not well!" Anne scoffed again, shaking her head before she took to pacing around the garden.

"Oh?" She demanded "and what was I ailing with?" Catherine's breath hitched in her throat. Of course George had lied to her....of course he had, only she had been stupid enough to believe him. What a fool he must think her! And what a fool she thought herself!

"Greif....George told me you were deep in mourning for your husband, that you'd secluded yourself in the chapel!" Anne let out a cry of frustration and turned to the other woman again.

"They will keep me here!" She said firmly "until my Mother dies and then George" She sneered "My loving guardian George, will inherit the entire Warwick fortune. Providing he can keep me locked up and unmarried everything will go to him!"

"Oh George"
"It is not only him!" She cried "It is my sister colluding with him! She is my jailer! Dispatching her ladies to watch over me like hawks. They will hold me here until they have broken my spirit and I submit to my fate without complaint"

Catherine shook her head, watching the Neville girl with sympathy. There was naught she could do then! She could not very well help her escape from George through the palace gardens, no, meeting was dangerous enough and if they were lost...they would have no one! No, there was only one thing for it.

"Anne, you must listen to me" She told her firmly "You must buy yourself more freedom by going along with George!" Anne began to protest, about to walk away and Catherine shook her head "by pretending to go along with George!" She corrected "Flattery always works! He responds to nothing more sophisticated than flattery, you know that from our time at Middleham!"

Anne slowly nodded, letting herself, wander back to where she'd been stood.
"Isabel too"
"That will at least gain you some freedom for now! Till the time is right for me to approach the King and ask for him to release George's guardianship over you"

Her eyes widened with surprise. She had not expected her old friend to help her in the first place, let alone this! A slight frown took over her face and she tilted her head.

"You would approach the King on my behalf? Why?"
Catherine smiled, daring to reach out and place a gentle hand on young Anne's shoulder.
"Why do you think?" She asked gently "I care for you and so does Richard. You are dear to many people Anne, we just need to see it is with those people you are placed and not these....vultures"