~Lady Bergavenny~

Dressed in a nightgown of primrose silk, Catherine held up her hand before her, looking at the golden wedding band that shone on her ring finger. It was a strange sight to her, this single circle of precious metal, so different from the other extravagant rings she had worn yet this held so much more value....

In legal terms at least.

This was the only visible proof of her marriage, the one thing that bound her to the man who was soon to join her. She rested her hand upon her knees which were drawn up to her chest, hidden by the crimson covers that laid across the vast bed she had been placed in. A wooden canopy laid over it, carved images of the virgin and her child surrounded by the garden of Eden.

If only the Holy Mary could help her now, she thought, looking at the velvet curtains, drawn shut, that shielded her from the rest of her husband's luxurious chamber. A small sigh left her lips. Before the servants had placed her this little retreat, she had glimpsed books upon a shelf, her books, she had realised.

It has given her a thrill to know that she would not be returning to the far Tower, that place where her greatest fears and worst realities had bundled into one atmosphere of despondent darkness. More than once it had threatened to consume her and she was glad to leave but now she wondered if she was to stay here?

Would she now be expected to sleep by a man she did not know apart from their shared glances in the chapel?

'Lady Bergavenny' She thought as her head rested against the propped up pillows. That was who she was now. She was no longer Lady Catherine Percy, daughter to the Earl of Northumberland and favourite of the Queen.....she was Baroness Bergavenny, Lady Catherine Neville.

Oh she hated the name, more than she ever had before! While she had been raised to despise this family of power hungry wolves she had never been given true cause to hate them. Now she had ample cause, more than most ever would! Although, there was one Neville, just one, that she felt she did not have an ounce of hatred for. Her husband.

'Yet' She reminded herself sternly and it was with that thought she heard her husband enter the room, his chamber door closing behind him with a heavy thud.

Leather boots landed heavily on the wooden floorboards, stopping at the end of the bed where she heard him undress, removing the heavy doublet he wore and his rings which clanged together as he placed them down. A moment later, the bed curtains were drawn aside and George Neville was revealed to her, dressed in his shirt and breeches. Just like he had done in the chapel, he smiled at her, a warm smile that told her she had nothing to fear before he joined her.

She shivered and he apparently felt it, reaching to tuck the covers of their bed around her more securely.
"I know this is strange" He told her as he attended to his work and she nodded "for both of us, Catherine. I never imagined I would be marrying well" Brown eyes swimming with sympathy found hers "A child"

"You will not hurt me will you?" She asked in as small a voice as she had ever heard "only....I heard some of the servants murmuring about weather we were to consummate our marriage but...." Her voice faltered with fear and she drew the covers up to her chin "I don't know what that means...."

She flinched when George gently brushed a lock of stray hair from her face and he instantly retracted his hand, silently cursing himself for his action that he had intended to be comforting. But words were the only thing he could hope to comfort her with, he realised, only words of truth.

"I will not hurt you, Catherine" He told her "I shall never hurt you and....what you heard the servants say about consummating this marriage....you may not understand but I will not do it, I would not do it if the Pope ordered me to! I will not lie with a child. This marriage shall only ever be consummated if you want it to be and any consideration of it will be many many years in the future"

George leant back a little, settling himself onto his own pillows while he watched her, doing everything in his power not to scare her. She was already terrified, that much he knew "You did not smile the entire feast" He remarked gently "There were jesters and jugglers and poets and yet....you did not smile....not once! I believe you would not have flinched if a dagger was pulled on you!"

Catherine shrugged slightly.
"My life is gone in any case"

At once, George's heart filled with pity. This young girl, this delicate child who seemed little more than a babe to him had declared she no longer had a life. And she spoke without hesitance, without exaggeration, she spoke the words with a defeat he had only heard in ageing soldiers and he felt an urge to protect her, like a brother wanted to protect his sister.

"That sounds like a proclamation from the dying"
Again, she shrugged.
"Or the living dead. Or perhaps simply one forced to grow who was not ready to do so"

George frowned slightly, the realisation only then striking him that Catherine did not appear her age, not in the slightest. Sitting beside him was not a six year old, innocent of the world, but one that carried a maturity that, as she had said, had been forced onto her by events out of her power. How cruelly had his cousins treated her for her to end up thus? How long had she been imprisoned in that Tower from which he heard she had emerged that morning?

He swore then and there that she would suffer no longer, that while she was his wife, he would try to right the wrongs done to her. Perhaps, in time, they could be friends?

She fidgeted with the covers, plucking at the coverlet with nervous fingers that betrayed her youth. For all that she had been through she had not yet learn to conceal her emotions fully. Maybe there was still hope for this girl yet, George wondered.

"I had your books brought" He said and Catherine looked up at him.
"I noticed, my Lord"
"George" He assured her "or Georgie, if you please?"
"Georgie" She repeated, a rare smile appearing on her lips at the name "Well, if I am to call you that, Georgie, then you must have a name for me too!"

"I shall!" He declared and pulled back the covers, swinging his long legs from the bed so he could stand and stride over to the bookcase where his wife's books now stood alongside his. Running his fingers along the faded spines, he selected one, 'The Canterbury Tales' He read and looked back to the bed to see Cathrine watching him with eager eyes. 'Cat eyes' He thought, amused and right then he knew he had found his name for her "Cat!" He said and strode back to the bed, jumping in beside her "That shall be your name!"

"Cat!" The girl repeated, liking the way it sounded and silently thankful that he had not settled on 'Cate' which would only make her weep. Shuffling up slightly so that she could see the colourful drawings of the book he had selected, Catherine found she smiled a little more at the careworn pages "Can we leave here?" She asked "Leave and never return?

George looked down, gently placing an arm around her shoulders. He nodded.
"I do not know what you have endured here but you do not have to return. I may, for reasons of duty, but tomorrow we shall leave for your new home"
"Leave" She breathed, hardly daring she had heard right "Leave Middleham?" Her husband nodded, coaxing an even greater smile from her before he began to read.

She was to leave! She was to leave her prison and never return! She was to be free again, well, as free as she could be in the hands of the Nevilles.

But perhaps this marriage was not such a curse as she had first thought?

꧁꧂

June 1459, Derbyshire, the Midlands....

Catherine could not remember a time where she had smiled so much nor for so long! Dressed in her wedding gown she rode in front of Georgie, through open fields of green with his men, his arm securely around her slim waist. She truly had been blessed in terms of husband, she found during she two weeks they travelled, and thanked the Lord every day for it!

George Neville was one of the kindest men she had ever known, a man of honour who did not once mention her family nor speak ill of them. He kept his word, making sure they departed the morning after the wedding, having his belongings packed by his men as quickly as they were able! Helping her dress in her wedding gown, he had then taken her gently by the hand and led her out to the courtyard, lifting her onto his horse before he mounted behind her.

Once they left, he had not once looked back and nor had she.

Their travelling party was a merry one as they made their way across the land and, the further away they rode from Middleham the brighter the remaining sparks of Catherine's former self burned. Little by little she began to feel herself again, little by little she began to discover a feeling she believed had been lost to time.

Happiness.

Or at least some form of it.
It made her smile, made her laugh, made her talk freely with her husband and his men who she found were no where near as brutish as the Neville men who had taken her! They were Georgie's men, not Warwick's, that was certainly clear.

The befriended her, showing her how they hunted when they made camp for the night, one even carved her her very own bow and gave her some of his arrows! It was a gift she treasured and would never forget, one made from pure kindness that she took joy in as she shot the bouncing rabbits of the woodland.

'The men shall be loyal to you as they are to me' Georgie told her every night and she began to believe him, more and more each day!

Now, upon the fourteenth day of their travel, she did not doubt him, she trusted him, it seemed! She trusted his word and she trusted his men. While she would never be a Neville, she would be George's wife, a Lady in her own right and, she decided, she would make the best of it.

"How much father to home?" She asked, turning around to look at him. It was strange to call a place she had never laid eyes on home. Alnwick was her home, the grand castle and its extravagant gardens were her home, but in accepting that George was her husband she was also accepting her home was with him. That was how she had been raised and although much of her innocence had left her, her rigid education had not.

Georgie smiled, pointing ahead of them to where mighty turrets of Towers poked above healthy trees of green.

"Haddon Hall" He declared and Catherine's eyes filled with wonder. It was not a castle she saw, nothing to compare to Alnwick or Westminster but a great stone Manor House that surely was as large as any fortress! A smile appeared on her lips and a sense of freedom blossomed in her heart, this was to be her home, her place to rule! She may not be a Queen or a Duchess but she could see herself content, just as Dickon said she would be.

"Content" She murmured and her husband chuckled behind her.
"More than content, I hope!"

He ducked under a stray branch as they rode into the forest, the sun around them darkened by the canopy of the trees. It did not make Catherine's smile falter, instead it widened in the knowledge that she was drawing further towards her new home, further away from Middleham!

When the trees cleared around them she was met with a magnificent sight, a manor of stone just the same as Alnwick with battlements going up and down along the walls. A large clock tower was built above the portcullis and the horses trotted under the carved arch happily, their hooves hitting the cobble in a sound Catherine had known since she took her first breath.

Beautiful Haddon was built around two fine courtyards with gardens stretching out upon the left side and a large drop to the back to ensure any would-be attackers would not succeed. The windows were curved and elegant, filled with panes of glass that glimmered in the evening sun! Behind those wondrous windows were vast chambers with rich furnishings, some of which would be her very own, George had told her.

She would have her own bedchamber, her own solar and anti chambers for her to lounge in, just like her Mother had! Well, they would not be as grand as her Mother's but they would be her own and that was all that mattered. Mayhap she could add tapestries if they were not already there? That would give her the greatest pleasure on earth! Or perhaps she could sew them? It would give her a way of passing the time!

She would ask, she decided, that night at dinner where she would eat a meal as fine as those at Alnwick! As Georgie's horse trotted forth, Catherine could see that servants awaited on the steps, their clothes freshly brushed down and aprons starched to within an inch of their lives! She smiled at the thought that it was all for her and, as if he could read her mind, Georgie confirmed it, telling her that they were here to welcome their new Lady.

'Their new Lady!' She thought with a slight pang, she had never thought of it that way before! That in this marriage she would have her own household, her own people as it were.
"I may not be Queen but I shall be Queen of these lands!"

"That you shall" Her husband chuckled and pulled his horse to a halt, ordering his men to do the same before jumping nimbly from his saddle. His servants bowed and curtsied, each demurely lowering their eyes to the freshly swept steps below just as Clemence used to.... oh how she missed her chief Lady!

One or two dared to peek up, sneaking a glance at their young mistress then gawking at each other when she saw how young she was! Why, she appeared their Master's little sister, not his wife! And yet here she was, in her gown of red and white silk, a delicate golden chain around her neck and a wedding band on her finger. She was their new Lady and any doubt they still harboured was dashed when George reached up to her, grinning as he lifted her down to the cobblestones and linked their arms.

His men dismounted too, leading their horses away to the stables, which lay adjoined to the castle, while he and his wife advanced towards their home, step by graceful step. The servants continued to keep their gazes downcast, hands folded in front of them before their Lord gestured for them to rise and they could at last clearly view his Lady. Catherine blushed prettily under their gaze, unused to such attention after so many months of confinement; cheeks turning a hot red that made the servants smile.

She did her best to smile back, resisting the urge to hide behind Georgie and, instead, nodded in a friendly manner.
"My faithful household" Her husband suddenly boomed, his voice seized with an authority she had not yet heard and startled her a little. He sounded like Warwick "Now that I am returned from the North I bring my wife with me, Lady Catherine Neville, Baroness Bergavenny"

"My Lady" The little crowd chorused and once again bobbed their curtsies and bows before a woman stepped forward.

Better dressed than the others, she was elderly, in her mid to late sixties, little Catherine estimated, observing her careworn face that wrinkled when she smiled and the thin coils of silvery hair that escaped her blue hennin. She was a thin woman, willowy in figure with limbs that looked as if they could snap in a breeze but in her gaze there was no sense of weakness. No, when she smiled at the little Lady before her, Catherine could see nothing but strength and devotion.

"This is Agnes, Cat" Georgie murmured, nodding fondly to the ageing woman who smiled back "She was my Mother's Lady and shall now be yours, I hope she shall be a comfort to you, a friend"

"As do I" Agnes finished, holding out one thin hand for her little Lady to take. Catherine found she went willingly, releasing her husband for the warmth of Agnes who embraced her as tenderly as her own child. "Come, my dear" She cooed, rubbing her back soothingly "Let us get you inside and have you sleep a while, no?" The little girl's eyes filled with unexpected tears and Agnes glanced to her Lord for an explanation he did not give.

"Later, Aggie" He murmured when he passed and she nodded, leading Catherine inside while the other servants followed.

꧁꧂

Tucking the sleeping child under the heavy covers, Agnes gently kissed her forehead, stroking back the flaxen hair that covered her face. She smiled. Catherine was a sweet little thing, eager to please yet with all the manners and authority of a noblewomen! 'She is a Percy' She reminded herself as she blew out the guttering candle by the bed 'So how did she come to be a Neville?'

With a quiet ease, she shut the bedchamber door and made her way through the solar that led to the winding stairs. They creaked as she climbed down but Ages did not care, she was used to the old cracks and creaks of Haddon and adored them all equally. Her Lord had told her that he would inform her of his wife later and later, she decided, was then, setting her path for the great hall that was hung with Neville banners and warmed by the fire that burned brightly in the hearth.

George sat beside it at one of the trestle tables that lined the hall, a glass of whiskey in his hand that he sipped slowly. The young Lord wore a pensive look, one that betrayed great thought for one only eighteen and Agnes smiled as she approached, sitting down beside him.
"You look like your Mother, my dear"

A nostalgic grin quirked at the corners of George's lips.
"I do miss her" He admitted "Just as I imagine Cat misses her own Mother" Agnes frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder just as her late Lady used to do and squeezing in comfort.

"What happened, Georgie? The whole of the country heard about her kidnapping and we all know of the war the Percy's have waged for the past four months to get her back, with support of the Queen too! There has been battle after battle in the Midlands and the North!"

"I don't think she does" He murmured, thinking of the sombre face of his little wife whenever her illustrious kin were mentioned "She hardly speaks a word of her family and when she does she speaks of her brother. I think she feels they have abandoned her" Agnes made a little tut of pity, her ageing heart aching for the young girl she had tucked into bed "Even if they defeated us Nevilles now, they would not be able to get her back, she is bound to me by God and by law"

"I shall have new gowns made for her" The old woman said "that should make her a little happier!"
"Indeed" George agreed "And please, for the love of God, stay away from combining red and white! She does hate the two together!"
"Understandably.....how was she treated? By Warwick?"

The young Lord sighed slightly, shrugging his strong shoulders.

"In truth, that is an unknown to me....I have not asked and she has not spoken of it....but I don't think well" Agnes' face fell, the frail hope she held failing "I know she was in the Far Tower" George continued "A rather dismal little place but for how long I know not. She's mature, Cat is, far more mature than a six year old ought to be....she seems ten or eleven at least, even an adult when you see her outlook upon the world"

"I take it is rather a dismal one then?" Agnes asked and he nodded.

"I like your offer of new gowns, Aggie....see that she has as many as she likes!"
She smiled at that, knowing the tone in his voice was a signal for her to leave and did so accordingly, bobbing a small curtsy before retiring to her own chambers