~The Edge of Desire~

July 1467, Middleham Castle....

The solar was the Countess of Warwick's domain, as it was the ruling Lady's in every castle. It was her realm, the one chamber that belonged to she and she alone. It was warm, with a fire blazing in the hearth, but the air always had a chill to it when the Countess was there. She sat in a large chair by the window, embroidery in hand while her cold eyes stared at the tiltyard below, all-seeing, always ice.

Catherine hardly ever entered the solar when the Nevilles resided at Middleham, after all, she was no favourite of the Countess. Anne Beauchamp looked upon her as if she were a burden and the young girl had certainly been looked at that way enough times to avoid it when possible.

But when the Nevilles departed it became her domain, her realm.

The residence of a Royal Duchess.

It became a place of warm relaxation, of conversations uttered only by candlelight while friends lounged upon cushions, watching the day darken to night. In this small chamber, Catherine and Richard often sat together, she placed happily on his lap while they kissed and whispered their love.

One summer's night, they lay before the fire, propped up on pillows while Catherine placed her head on Richard's chest. His fingers danced through her golden curls, almost as if to commit them to memory, touching each strand, each wave. A dog lay sleeping beside them, his ears happily down and his scraggly grey coat turned almost white in the glow of the fire. Roland was his name, a gift from Richard's Father just months before he'd died and the young Duke treasured him.

"He is my line between life and death" He would say, almost always having the large dog trotting at his heels. Catherine had, at first, been wary of him but grew to think of him as her friend, her protector and she smiled at the sight of his messy mop of hair.

Shuffling slightly to the side, she peered up at her husband to see he was already gazing down at her. His eyes were not clear but clouded with an emotion Catherine's remaining innocence could not decipher. It was a look she had seen in the past months only directed at her and not just by Richard.

And she could not deny she felt there was some connection in the way he looked at her, and the way she felt when she caught him doing so. Something hot pooled in her belly and she would feel giddy, excited, almost like when she had had a little too much to drink. All she wanted was him but what she wanted him for she had no clue. When they kissed, it no longer felt enough. It was sweet, loving but she wanted more and she could tell he did too.

If only she knew what more was.

"What is it?" She asked quietly and the emotion in his eyes faded until they returned to their normal blue. Leaning down he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, one calloused hand cradling her cheek.

"I have had a letter from Edward, love"

"Oh?" Catherine raised her head, placing her hands either side of his body as she pushed herself up, smoothing back the curls from her face "And what does it say? Does it trouble you?" Roland sneezed beside them and Richard smiled, shrugging while he too sat up, the position he held now causing pain to his back.

"He writes to say my guardianship with Warwick is coming to an end and yours with John" He replied slowly, remembering his elder brother's words "He is not happy with him. It seems our cousin made a secret deal with France...." Catherine gasped.
"Is that why he married Margaret to Charles of Burgundy? Thwarting the peace treaty with France Warwick devised?"

Richard nodded, leaning back against the chair behind while he pulled Catherine onto his lap, arranging her skirts around her. He could see the silent joy that lit up her eyes, the quiet excitement that surely was bubbling in her stomach at the prospect of leaving Middleham. They had spent happy days there but the time would always be marred by her childhood. While it was home to him, it never would be to her.

"He wants us to establish our own household" He continued "He thinks you and I are old enough now to run a castle of our own and he wants me away from our cousin. As a punishment of sorts" Catherine raised her eyebrows, reaching up to tangle her fingers in the black curls that now touched his shirt.

She knew how to run a household, all women of her rank did. Since she could toddle she had been wound in the tiresome (yet useful) knowledge of how she was to manage servants, count costs. Her Mother had taught her, and then Agnes and Catherine considered herself more than capable of running a household....but would Richard be willing to do so?

"And you?" She asked quietly "What do you think of this? Would you be willing to leave Middleham.....to make a home with.....me?" A wry smile crossed Richard's lips and he brushed a finger across hers, chuckling when she leant forward to rub their noses together.

"You know I would!" He said "I want to, ma belle....I only fear the reaction from my cousin" Now it was Catherine's turn to laugh and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Well" She murmured, tilting her head to the side "He is not here, is he? He resides at Warwick Castle with the rest of his clan! If we are gone by the time he returns then you won't have to face him! Not immediately anyway" He gave her a look of doubt, the thought of leaving without bidding a faithful farewell weighed heavy on his mind. Clearly it did not on hers "Where would we go?" She asked "We cannot have our own household at Westminster and Alnwick is not an option...."

Her last words were rather sad and Richard frowned, tilting up her chin with his fingers.
"We will make a home together!" He told her "It shall not just be a castle where we live it shall be a home. A place we cherish and love. I will give you a home, Cate, a true home, one as dear to you as Alnwick was....I promise"

His eyes widened as her breath suddenly hitched and tears stung her eyes, gliding gown her cheeks at his lovely words. He cupped her face, kissing away her tears while she cried, holding her soft body against his lean one "Oh, my love" He whispered and she smiled through her tears.

"I've forgotten what it's like to have a home, Dickon"
"Then I will show you"
She nodded, profusely like a child, letting him continue to kiss away her tears until he pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and wiped away the streaks of salty water covering her face.

"Go to bed, sweetheart" He told her once her breaths had steadied and all Catherine could do was nod, letting her husband help her rise before she wandered away to her chamber. The fire was stoked, the candles lit and she felt herself relax into the warm space she had come to know as her sanctuary.

Margery was already there, laying out a silken nightgown, and smiled softly, offering her young mistress a smile and a curtsy. Catherine nodded in return, walking to the bed where her fingers danced around one of the four tall posts while Margery unlaced her dress. The blue silk pooled at her feet, quickly followed by her sage green kirtle and stockings, tossed into a nearby basket.

"You're very quiet tonight, my friend" Margery remarked but the little Duchess only hummed, stretching out her arms while her shift was removed and her nightgown placed over her head. Next came her bed robe, a heavy red velvet that rested comfortably on her shoulders while she tied the sash around her waist.

Moving to the side, she sat down on her satin covers, her face fixed into a small frown that watched the floorboards beneath her feet.
"Margie?" She asked and her Lady looked up from where she was folding the discarded blue gown into a coffer.
"Cat?"

Catherine hesitated slightly, a rosy blush covering her cheeks in seconds as her fingers fiddled with the coverlet, plucking at the loose linen threads.

"What is bedding like?" She at last dared, hanging her head to avoid the embarrassing flush that was surely making it's way up Margery's neck "Is it how it is with animals? I've seen the pigs and the sheep and horses and the cows mate but it looks uncomfortable, painful almost. Yet women flock to King Edward's bed and seem to discard their reputations without a second thought. So it cannot be like it is with animals, can it?"

Her eyes widened as she found her friend suddenly knelt at her feet, peering upwards with a mixture of amusement and shock in her eyes. So she was not embarrassed, it seemed?
"No! No" She cried at Catherine's words, her tone rich with mirth though not one laugh slipped through her lips "God no, my Lady!"

"Well.....will you tell me the truth of it?" The young Duchess ventured, looking warily at the door that Richard could walk through at any moment. To think that he could stride through when she was asking such sinful questions! Why, she thought she would die of shame "You are not a maid, are you?" She quickly said and Margery shook her head, a kind look seeping into her eyes as she took the younger girl's hand.

Catherine had keen eyes, even keener ears and that past year it had become known to her that her Lady had had a dalliance with one squire or another.

Had Margery been of a notably noble family, a De Vere or a Clifford or, God forbid, a Neville, she would have been surely sent away. Such behaviour was not tolerated. But she was not, she was a Paston and besides, Catherine had no wish to lose her last remnant of Agnes over carnal matters.

Margery squeezed her hand, pulling herself up onto the bed and placing an arm around Catherine's slender shoulders. It felt more to be a Motherly embrace, warm and tender then one of sweet friendship and the young girl felt herself lean into it. Too long had she been starved of such embraces.

"No, my dear, I am not a maid" Margery confessed lightly "Though I blush to admit it....but" She continued, lowering her voice "bedding the right person is the...." A small giggle passed her lips "The most fun you will ever have! There is naught else like it, Catherine!"

Oblivious to her amusement on account of her own thoughts, Catherine frowned, once more staring at the wooden floorboards.
"How do I know I want to be bedded?" She asked, the question so long burning in her mind finally quenched on her tongue. Again Margery laughed, bringing her closer into her embrace.

"You will feel desire, my friend!"
"Desire? But the church seems that a sin. They say that the virtue of a woman is sacred and to feel anything other than duty in the marriage bed is sinful!"

"Well then, the whole world has sinned!" Margery exclaimed "After all, if we do not sin, what would the poor churchmen find to do on a Sunday?" That coaxed a smile from Catherine and she relaxed a little more, letting her body sink into the covers, her tongue loosen; mind wandering "Tell me, when his grace kisses you, when he touches you, when he looks at you, what do you feel?"

"Excitement!" She answered confidently before her voice dwindled slightly "Only it is not excitement....it leaves me wanting more, Margie! I always want more! When he kisses me, I don't want him to stop, I want more but!" She let out a huff of irritation, turning to face her friend "But I don't know what more is!" She cried, taking no delight in the confusion that filled her mind. Margery tilted her head to the side, one hand swooping down to gently press against the thin nightgown that covered the Duchess' stomach.

"Do you feel it here?" She asked quietly "A coiling only his touch can sate?"

Catherine burned red, her feelings uncovered.
"Yes...."
Her friend simply smiled, almost a triumphant smile that had her almost bounding off the bed!

"That!" She declared "is desire!" Catherine's eyes widened in shock and Margery felt herself smile some more, settling next to the girl again to once more place a hand around her shoulders "Some think that desire is a sign that a woman is ready to carry the seed of a man within her womb!" She whispered, watching the Duchess' skin flush an even darker red at the thought.

"His seed?" She repeated, the word a foreign term to her.
"His child, Cat!" Margery exclaimed, unable to refrain from laughter at the dumbstruck expression of her young friend who was rapidly proving she was not so young anymore "His baby! Your baby!"

"My baby" Catherine echoed, suddenly placing her hands on her belly, where she knew a babe would lie. Her babe.....Richard's babe. Their very own son or daughter. A hot excitement began to burn through her veins at the thought, something she had never felt before. A wanting for a child, a wanting to craft a soul from love and bring them into the world.

Only what a world it was to be brought into "Me, carry Richard's baby?" She wondered aloud "Become a Mother?"

"You are old enough now, many believe" Margery answered "and the house of York must be made strong! The King expects his younger brothers to produce sons so that if Queen Elizabeth does not produce one then the line is still secure....that is another reason why the King wishes for you and his grace to reside in a castle of your own. He feels it would....hurry things along, so to speak"

Catherine chuckled to herself. Of course Edward had been the one to think of that! Still, she kept her hands on her belly, the thought that mere hours ago would have been foreign to her, now burning bright in her mind. Could she be a Mother? Could Richard be a Father? Could she truly give herself to her husband? To do so she was sure would be a betrayal of her beloved house, of Queen Marguerite and Prince Edward.

But how she wanted Richard....
To bear his heir would make her betrayal of Lancaster total, binding her to the house of York forever. Her child would be a York Prince or Princess, thus rendering her loyal to King Edward and her husband forever for she could never stand against her own child.

Her own child....
For so long she had believed it would be Prince Edward's child she carried as Princess of Wales and she almost jolted at the realisation that not one thought of Lancaster glory had crossed her mind in some time....

"And he told you this? My Lord husband?"
Margery nodded.

"I happened upon him just as he read the letter, he was a little in shock, truth be told but eager too...." Her words dwindled away as a soft knock came at the door, one Richard offered whenever he wanted permission to enter his wife's chambers and she smiled, placing a hand to Catherine's cheek "You are not a child, anymore" She told her softly "That is clear"

Calling for the Duke's entry, she rose from the bed, performing a perfect curtsy before she left.

Richard strode through the door, all smiles, a book proudly positioned under his arm while he walked to the bed. Snatching her hands from her belly, Catherine quickly made her way under the covers, making room as he climbed in beside her.

"My Lady" He murmured in greeting, pressing a kiss to her lips that she all but melted into, the soft press of his lips against hers nothing less than heavenly. She cradled his cheek, kissing him until she had to pull away for air to see her husband watching her. "Something has emboldened you tonight" he remarked but she simply shrugged, the same feeling she had described to Margery pooling in her belly with just his eyes upon her.

"May a wife not love her husband?" She replied, plumping up the pillows behind them to ease his back and he smiled his affection smile.

"Of course you may, ma belle, just as I may love you! Now" He took the book from under his arm, tugging her close as he set it out on the covers, gently flicking through the colourful pages Catherine could see were filled with buildings. Castles, fortresses, each formidable yet holding their own beauty "This is the book my Father had created to keep a record of every York stronghold!"

A proud smile crossed his lips, one that made his wife's heart warm with love for him. While she was not for his house, she could not deny his loyalty was endearing, his fierce devotion to his King and those he loved. His devotion to her. He had chosen his motto well.

"Why have you brought it?" She asked, peering curiously at the detailed pages while he tried to find a specific one, flicking through page after page of parchment until he found what he was looking for.
"Ah!" He exclaimed quietly, laying out the book closer to her so she might see the castle he'd selected.

Surrounded by a deep moat, lined with small boats, and a curtain wall, each corner crowned with a tall tower, was a castle. Upon a high motte, lay the bailey, built in the shape of a fetterlock (the Duke of York's own emblem), the York standard flying freely above, looming over the rest of the castle below.

The gardens were not the same as the ones of Alnwick, extensive and enclosed, but they lay by the river and appeared pretty enough, the hidden grounds behind the bailey serving as a true place of privacy. Fine buildings of great stone lay snugly within the walls, what Catherine assumed to be the great hall and guest chambers where nobility, even royalty, would be entertained!

Small cottages stood there too, testimony to the lives of the people who lived and worked at the castle, on the surrounding land. Across the moat and fields, lay a village, the church with its steeple towering over the rows of thatched homes. This was not Middleham, nor Alnwick nor indeed any place she had ever seen, all she knew was that she liked it.

"What is this place?" She breathed, a finger brushing against one of the tall turrets and Richard smiled, clearly pleased at the small smile she held on her face.

"Fotheringhay" He answered "The castle in which I was born and Edward has offered to us....as a home" His smile became shy, almost bashful and he ran a hand through his hair, watching closely as she looked over the battlements and bailey "It was my family's stronghold, we even have our own chantry where the bodies of our kin our buried....I hope that one day my Father and brother may be interred there...."

"Just as my Father was at Alnwick" Catherine finished softly, snuggling into him while he stared at the painted castle with longing. It certainly seemed his wish to inhabit such a great place, almost a show of maturity to Edward, proving he was right in such a hefty decision.

"Do you like it?"

She peered up at the sound of her husband's quiet voice, reaching up to place a hand to his cheek, cradling the soft skin beneath her palm. He nuzzled into it, blue eyes fluttering closed at such tenderness.

"I like it very much, my love" She told him, bringing the book closer so that she could look upon Fotheringhay in more detail "It looks peaceful, unlike the land that surrounds it....I think I could be happy there"
"Truly?"

Catherine nodded, training her eyes on the tall turrets, the firm walls and grand chambers she was sure were encased behind them.
"Yes" She replied softly "As long as I have you, and my own honour"