~When All is Broken and Lost~

February 1475, Raby Castle, Durham....

Raby Castle was certainly a fine residence, once the seat of the Neville family, one of Cecily Neville's favoured properties and where she had been born. The court moved there after Christmas, leaving Isabella and Cecily at Eltham while Marie travelled with their parents and young Edward was brought by his Uncle from Middleham.

Constance was overjoyed to have her boy back in her arms and pleased she could be nearer her dear Annie when her baby was due to be born! With any luck she would be able to attend the christening! The only thing that marred her content disposition was the great rift between her and the King. Ever since their encounter four months prior, Constance had made good on her promises and they were as distant as they could be.

They slept and resided in separate apartments, resorted to using their titles whenever they spoke, which was little, in fact, the only time the two could be seen together was during court occasions or at dinner when they didn't dine alone. When they did appear, all seemed normal to the courtiers (who assumed the Queen rested so much because of the babe) because the King and Queen acted so but behind closed doors, there was naught but silence.

It was lonely, Constance couldn't deny and it saddened her greatly when sometimes she would reach out in the night only to find the sheets cold, she even found herself missing Warwick to talk to, but her anger did not wane. Her belly swelled with her pregnancy and, while she sometimes wished to go to Edward so he could feel the child kick, she did not do so once. She kept it to herself as she'd become accustomed to keep everything to herself.

She'd said she would go to his bed after the baby was born but couldn't imagine lying with him only for duty and not for love, without sweet caresses and kisses. It would have to be that way, she supposed.

Day after day they grew further apart and, while she was angry, she sometimes feared they would drift so far away they would never be able to return to one another. Was that what she wanted? She often wondered.

She saw little of Jane Shore but she was undoubtedly the King's mistress, the entire court knew and she was waiting on the day when red-headed Jane turned into the she-wolf Elizabeth.

She would fight, she told herself, she would fight with all she had.

One February morning, when frost glistened on the grass and swans sailed elegantly on the large castle lake, Constance stood at the water's glassy edge, a heavy plum coloured cloak around her shoulders and gloved hands cradling her belly. With a heavy sigh, she looked over the surface alone, having dismissed her ladies long ago. She and Edward had first spoken at the edge of a lake, she recalled. How different things had been then.

The baby gave a small kick and she smoothed her hands over the bump.
"I know" She murmured "I shouldn't think of such things, it shall only make me sadder and I must be happy, for you, my love"

"Lady Mother! Lady Mother!"
The call of her darling boy made her smile and she turned to see him practically jumping down the slope to the river, hand in hand with his grandmother - his nurses waiting at the top. His eyes were bright, his cheeks rosy with health and his golden curls escaping the blue velvet cap he wore, matching his doublet and breeches.

"Well well!" She greeted as the two reached her and he swept a little bow "How are you this morning, sweet boy? I thought you would still perhaps be abed at this hour as you stayed up so late in your Father's company last night!" Edward grinned up at her.
"I didn't sleep one wink!" He told her excitedly "Father said he will take me riding today!"

"Ah!" Constance laughed "So you decided to haul your Lady Grandmother out to occupy you?"
"Not at all!" Cecily answered with a smile "A morning walk does me good and" She added "I was going to come in search of you"
"Oh?"
"Indeed"

Nodding, Constance turned to her beloved son and opened her arms, smiling when he ran into them. He was growing taller by the day, she thought, and at four years old was the finest lad in the Kingdom!
"Why not watch the birds while your Grandmother and I talk?" She suggested and he looked up at her "Or you could skip stones? I know Uncle Richard taught you how"

"He did!" He replied brightly "I shall do that, Mama!" Performing another little bow, he bounced happily away, running back up the hill to collect stones with his nurses. The two women smiled at one another and moved to the edge of the lake, both staring out into the brightness of the morning.

"Have you spoken to Ned of late?"
Constance shook her head.
"No more than necessary"
"Have the children noticed?"
"Marie has. Neddy is too young. We construct a facade when we are with Issy and Cis"

It hadn't taken Cecily long to see the rift between her son and daughter in law, in fact, Constance wagered she'd been able to sense it from her apartments! Cecily was like that.
"You two have certainly proved talented actors" She continued "To the eyes of the court, you seem perfectly happy and yet, you and I both know you're not"

"It's his fault" Constance replied, a little sharper than intended but she did not apologise "If he hadn't flaunted that....that whore, then all would be well" Cecily hummed, taking a deep breath.
"Forgive me for my candour, Constance, but I've never received the impression that Ned's infidelities bothered you. He is a King with a King's appetites and he is a man, I thought you knew that"

She did know that, she'd known it since her wedding feast when Warwick had told her Edward would not be faithful.

"It didn't bother me, it doesn't bother me" She sighed "I do not care whom he beds"
"Then why is this one so different?" Cecily asked and Constance shuffled from foot to foot.
"He cares for her" She muttered, the words like poison on her lips and her Mother raised an eyebrow.
"And what does that afford her? You are the Queen, none can take that away from you!"

"I was Queen when he had the Woodville whore and yet, at times, she might've as well of had my crown!" At once, Cecily's eyes widened slightly and she turned to the Queen as if the final piece of a puzzle had clicked into place, presenting the full picture.
"You fear she is another Elizabeth...."

"How can I not?" Constance cried "She was in his bed, Mother! I saw them! Her on top of him and...."
"I have no need for the details, my dear" Cecily said quickly and the Queen, bit her lip, looking to her shuffling shoes.

"The only other time he took a mistress at court was Elizabeth, the only other time he's truly cared for a mistress was Elizabeth, the only time I've seen him look at another like he looks at Jane was Elizabeth! How can I not be worried?"
"When Elizabeth came along, you did not have a son" Cecily pointed out "You produced an heir to the throne, Jane could not wield power as Elizabeth did even if she did bear him a boy!"

"I suppose" Constance conceded dully, watching her son as he began to skip stones on the bank "But it is not only that! It his lack of respect and regard for me as his wife and Queen! He knows how I felt about Elizabeth, how much I feared her, hated her, and yet he takes this whore to his bed and flirts with her in public without a thought for me! Our boy dies in my arms and he selects a new mistress, sometimes I wonder if he loves me, if he ever did"

Cecily sighed and reached out to place a hand on the Queen's arm. She knew how stupid men could be, how stupid her son could be and she'd never seen him act more foolishly as he did now.
"He loves you, Connie, a blind man could see it....is there no way you could mend the rift between you?"

"I shouldn't have to!" Constance replied cooly "and besides, I have no wish to at present, nor does he it seems! He is happy with his whore and I am happy without him in my sight!" Nodding to herself, she looked out over the lake again "I think I shall stay with Anne and Dickon after their babe is born. It shall give Anne company and me some much needed space"

༻᯽༺

Three days later, Constance sat in her solar, sewing with Marie by her side and her ladies dotted about the room, sitting by the fire or in comfortable window seats as she was.

"See, Ma Mère!" Marie said brightly as she cut of the last thread of her embroidery with a pair of small silver shears and showed the image she'd crafted to her Mother - Raby Castle with a garden of white Roses around it.

"Belle, ma fille!" 'Beautiful, my daughter!' Constance praised and Marie smiled, looking happily at her work. The ten year old Princess was apt at everything she did, quickly becoming the very epitome of grace, beauty and intelligence.

"I hope Issy and Cis are well" She remarked, showing the embroidery to the other ladies who each praised her heartily "They were disappointed not to be coming North with you, Isabella said she wanted to find wolves!"

"Wolves!" Constance laughed "Your Uncle Richard has only ever seen one, he says they're very rare!"
"That wouldn't stop Issy!"
"No, little love, I expect it wouldn't!"

"Your grace?" The Queen looked up as Beth entered the solar, curtsying deeply before she approached, holding out a letter "This arrived just now for you"
"Thank you, Beth" Constance replied, taking the letter and breaking the wax seal. The chamber filled with the rustle of unfolding paper and she smiled at the sight of Anne Neville's handwriting.

Written on the 10th of March in this, the year of our Lord, 1475, by the hand of the Duchess of Gloucester

My Queen, friend and dearest sister,

I write to you from my childbed, weary from labour but the happiest woman God could create. I bore my Richard a son on the second, a sweet boy we've called Edward whom I could not love more if I tried!

The labour was long and hard, two days to be precise, and he was delivered with much difficulty but he's a cheruby little thing, Connie, small yet healthy and I'm sure, in time he will grow.

There is but one thing that mars my joy. I'm sick, Connie, very sick.

I can keep little food down and my skin, while usually pale, seems to have turned me to a ghost. Not once have I risen from my childbed and Richard is beginning to worry for me, as am I. Our physician examined me this morn and said perhaps not all of the afterbirth had been expelled from my body and once nature has forced it away, my health should improve.

I'm frightened, Connie, for myself and for my baby. This is my home and yet, for the first time, I feel alone here. You have children and are one I trust above all others except my beloved husband. Please come to me, sister, I need you by my side.

Your loving sister and loyal, humble subject,

Anne of Warwick, Duchess of Gloucester

"Ma Mère?" Marie watched with increasing concern as her Mother's cheeks turned from rosy to alabaster, her smile fading to a worried frown "Lady Mother what is it?"

Her voice seemed to snap Constance from the trance Anne's words had captured her in but, instead of offering an answer, she sharply rose, prompting all the others to do so.
"Are you well, Constance?" Isabella asked but, again, the Queen didn't reply, looking around at her ladies before striding towards the solar door.

"Fetch me a riding gown, my horse and guards"
"But your grace..."
"Now!" Constance demanded, throwing open the door and hurrying down the stairs.

"Marie, go after her!" Beth said quickly "For heaven's sake she's five months with child!" Marie was already on her way to obey, dashing after her Mother with her satin skirts. She called after her numerous times but received no reply, only the flash of an emerald skirt disappearing around a corner.

Within an hour, Constance was in a deep purple riding gown, hemmed with brown fur and her long hair caught in a golden netted coif, circlet sewn atop it.
"Is my horse ready?" She asked, pulling on her gloves as she strode through the hall, her ladies walking quickly to keep up behind her.
"Yes, your grace" Anne answered.
"Good. And my guards?"
"Yes, your grace"

They burst into the cold winter air filling the courtyard, its cool sting making Constance's cheeks redden. Spying her horse, a black palfrey, surrounded with guards beside their own horses, she made towards it, acknowledging their bows with a short nod.
"My Queen, where do we ride to?" One asked as she stepped up the mounting block and settled herself in her fur-covered saddle.

"Middleham. It is twenty seven miles or so from here, if we ride hard and fast we can be there by sundown. Her grace the Duchess has need of me"

"Constance!"
She sighed at the sound of her husband's demanding voice, turning her head to see him striding across the courtyard with Marie in tow. Of course their daughter had gone to him, she was worried.

"Your grace" She greeted when he arrived.
"Get down from your horse, Constance"
She raised her eyebrows.
"Why should I, my Lord? I am travelling to Middleham"
"You are with child, my Lady"

"What if you lose the babe, Mother?" Marie said and, despite her great love for her daughter she couldn't help the sharpness in her voice when she replied.
"This is none of your concern, Marie, go back inside"

Guilt pricked her heart as she watched the girls face and body visibly deflate before she offered a small curtsy and all but fled indoors. Constance wanted to call after her, to apologise but there was no time. She had to go to Anne.

"For heaven's sake, get down" Edward hissed, staring angrily up at her and, with a sigh, she did as he asked, not wishing to cause a scene. They were inches from one another, their anger sparked and eyes glaring "Are you so angry with me you have seen fit to disregard the safety of our child?"

"Of course not!" She snapped "of course I worry for our child on this journey but I have had a letter from Anne, she's given birth, she needs me" Edward shook his head.
"She can come to you once she has recovered from the birth" He took her arm, meaning to lean her back inside but she defiantly jerked out of his grip.

"No!" She declared firmly "She's sick, she has said she needs me, the letter was written five days ago! I will, I must go to her!"
"I forbid it! As your husband and King!"
She laughed at that, shaking her head before her face became like stone and she glared at him, tilting up her chin.

"Forbid me all you want, my Lord" She hissed "Shout, stamp your feet, have your guards lock me in my rooms but, I promise you this, if you do and I get news that anything has happened to Anne I will blame you alone. Not our Lord, not his will, but you and I will never forgive you, not ever"

Turning away from him, she waved for the mounting block and climbed up into the saddle again, hardly looking at Edward as she commanded her guards to assume their travelling positions. Four in front, four behind. It was not a big retinue but that would make it quicker.

"Do you still forbid it?" She asked, sparing him a glance but all he did was stare back, anger and a degree of sadness swimming in his eyes "Good. Do not bother to worry for me while I'm gone, my Lord, I'm sure you have ample entertainment to distract you" Clicking her tongue, her horse set into a steady trot and the journey began. She didn't once look behind.

"You can do this, my love" She thought, smoothing a hand over her belly as they trotted under the gatehouse but, at the forefront of her mind, as well as Anne, was the thought that her baby could not.

༻᯽༺

Middleham came into view just as the sun began to set and the hills of Wensleydale were cast in an amber glow. The castle guards were surprised to see her approach to say the least and the scramble to admit her entry to the castle could be heard from miles around, she wagered.

Still, she didn't pay much attention to it, she rode under the portcullis as soon as it was raised, galloping into the courtyard and wasting no time reigning in her horse. Immediately, grooms ran to meet her and a block was provided so she could dismount. She would've jumped if need be, she didn't care.

Thanking her helpers with a nod, she made towards the castle entrance, about to hurry up the steps when the door opened and Richard appeared. His figure made her stop where she stood, breathing heavily.

His doublet was unlaced, his face pale and cheeks stained with shed tears. Under his eyes lay purple crescents, and his eyes themselves were red, swollen, almost bloodshot from lack of sleep and crying. Seeing the Queen, his face crumpled and he forced himself down to the courtyard, step by heavy step as if the weight of the world weighed on him.

Once he reached her, two heavy tears rolled down his cheeks and he swallowed, drawing in a shaky breath.

"You're too late" He whispered and Constance's heart dropped. She shook her head.

"What do you mean...."

༻᯽༺

The bedchamber was dimly lit, the shutters barred, blocking out much of the light. Candles surrounded the bed and the fire was lit but the room was still dark.

Ladies maids had laid the Duchess out in her best dress of crimson velvet and white silk - her wedding dress, Constance realised as she slowly made her way towards the bed. Her honey hair was combed out, a long, waved river flowing down to her waist, crowned with the circlet the Queen had given her. Her hands were clasped on her stomach, still slightly swelled from the birth, her skin like alabaster stone.

Constance remembered the day she'd designed that dress, the day she'd commissioned it, the day it had arrived.

She shouldn't have been able to remember that day when Anne died, she thought, it shouldn't have still been Anne's best dress, it should've been worn and long since folded away in a coffer. Her hair should've been grey, ten children should've been knelt at her bedside to mourn her. She should've been advanced in years, not only just past the dawn of life, a life that had seen so much sadness.

She was just eighteen.

With a sob, Constance collapsed by the bed and Richard sunk into a chair by the fire, unable to look at his wife's corpse.
"Annie" She whispered, reaching out and taking one of her hands, crying harder when she felt how cold it was, like ice "No....Annie....I'm sorry....I'm so sorry I did not come to you sooner"

She'd known her since she was a toddler, remembered her waddling into her chamber at Baynards Castle and crawling up onto her lap. She'd watched her grow, watched her suffer, finally seen her find happiness. She loved her fiercely but no amount of love in the world would restore her.

Why had God taken her? Why had God snatched away a young life when she had just created a life of her own? Why would he see a son raised without a Mother, a man without a wife?

The small mewl of a babe made her head jerk up and, in the dim light of the room and she could just make out a nurse cradling a little bundle in her arms. She turned to Richard "Is that....is that her son?" He nodded bleakly and on trembling feet, she rose, holding out her arms for the babe. The nurse immediately obeyed, bobbing a small curtsy and murmuring 'your grace' before settling the baby in her embrace.

Another small sob left her lips as she gazed down on the little boy, at his dark blue eyes and a downy tuft of black hair. He was the image of his Father "Oh Anne" She whispered, looking down at her friend with a small smile "he is perfect, he is so so perfect and he will love you, with all of his heart I will make sure of that" Rocking the sweet babe back and forth, she moved towards the fire, sitting opposite Richard.

He only stared into the flames, tears slipping down his cheeks "Will you not hold him, Dickon?" His face crumpled and he shook his head, still not sparing one glance at his boy.

"I can't...." His voice was a broken whisper "every time I look at his little face all I see is her...."
"It is not his fault...."
He shook his head, finally raising his head but to look at her, not the babe.

"No....no, Connie, that is not what I mean. I know it's not his fault, how can it be? He is so small, so innocent" She could see his eyes begin to wander to the blankets but the he snatched them away, looking into the fire again "No....every time I look at him all I see is her and I'm reminded....she's dead. I keep worrying that she will be cold when they bury her, she always used to get cold easily as a child so I would give her my cloaks...."

He burst into wretched sobs, hiding his face in his hands and, signalling to the nurse, Constance had the boy taken from her arms.

"Take him to the nursery" She said and the woman nodded, discreetly leaving the room so the Queen and Duke were left alone. Immediately, she knelt at his feet, taking his hands before she took him into his arms, holding him tight while he cried. If losing a wife was anywhere near as painful as losing a Father (and she wagered it hurt more) then she knew a little of how he felt.

"I'm so sorry" She whispered, combing a hand through his hair "I'm so so sorry, Richard"
"She's gone!" He cried "She's gone! I watched her die, I watched her cry when she realised she would not see her son grow, when the only event she would see was his christening....we helped her downstairs yesterday so she could see him baptised then she collapsed...."

Taking a ragged breath, he raised his head "she woke only once again"

"We will remember her" Constance told him fiercely "we will remember her everyday and you will raise her boy to be the finest son this kingdom has ever seen so she can look down from heaven and be proud!"
"But I don't want to remember her" He wept "I want her to be here"

༻᯽༺

February 22nd 1475, The Church of St Mary and Saint Alkelda, Middleham....

The castle was clad in black, the banners, the servants, even tiny baby Edward. Where the halls were meant to be joyous with life, they were solemn with death, silent instead of filled with laughter.

Richard was as much a ghost as his dear wife, rarely seen and when he was he was in the shadows, a dark figure made miserable by grief. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he didn't talk, he didn't see his son, nor did he greet the guests that arrived for the funeral - he wouldn't hear it mentioned.

Constance arranged the whole affair, however sorrowful a task it was to undertake, and it was she who greeted the guests. Isabel (who was only just out of her child bed from delivering a son) and George arrived first from Richmond Castle, the eldest Neville girl collapsing in the Queen's arms where they cried together - even George was truly subdued. Many of the Nevilles (including Cecily) and her ladies in waiting were next, cousins and such and then friends of her Father.

Then came the royals from Raby.

Edward and Marie arrived the day before the ceremony, the girl teary-eyed in a black gown and holding onto her Father's hand.
"Why did God take Aunt Annie?" She asked when her Mother hugged her but Constance couldn't give an answer - she didn't know why the Lord would take such a sweet soul.

She offered a small curtsy to her husband and allowed him to take her hand, needing the brief warmth of living contact he provided and the solace when he kissed her knuckles.
"My King" She greeted and he raised his eyes to hers. He nodded.
"My Queen"

The dowager Countess of Warwick had been placed in the care of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester the previous year, legally declared dead so the brothers of York could split her fortune, and resided at Warwick Castle. When she arrived, she barely made it through the doors before she collapsed to her knees, a veil over her face which hid her tears as she sobbed.

"My dearest daughter" She cried and Isabel rushed to her aid "She's dead! My Annie is dead"

None of the guests dined together that evening, they dined in their rooms, enshrouded within the grief ridden gloom that had encased the castle.

In the village church, the next day, they stood in rows of sorrowful black, the women bearing veils over their faces, the royal family at the front and all others behind them. They had processed down to the church from the castle in solemn silence, the church bells calling out their death knell. It moved all to see the entirety of the village line the way, crossing themselves and many crying as her coffin passed by.

They'd all known her since childhood.

All around the church pews were shrines to the deceased, tombs with finely crafted stone effigies lain atop, much like the one Anne would soon occupy.

With her sudden death, it had not yet been planned and, even when it was finished, the cold, blank face that her loved ones would look upon when they visited would be a poor substitute for the kind one they had known. They would not be able to see the shine of her eyes when she was happy, nor the rosiness in her cheeks when she was well; the smile that would curve her lips when she laughed.

It was all gone now.

Anne's open coffin was placed on a tall slab of marble stone draped in black velvet, surrounded by candles that lit her body, her face, making it seem as if she were almost sleeping.

Richard attended, staring at his wife with the greatest misery in the world. He stared, hardly blinking, the odd tear gliding down a pale cheek. His son was cradled beside him by his nurse but, as on the night of the Queen's arrival, he didn't even glance at the boy.

Mass was had and a great many prayers said for the Duchess, praises of her kind nature and charitable endeavours, how she had been loved by all who knew her. She was lowered carefully into the ground at the right side of the chapel and, when she was gone, Constance saw Richard's shoulder's shake with sobs.

It was then he reached out and tenderly took their boy into his arms, cradling him close while Anne was buried.

"You will always have me" He whispered to little Edward "I promise you will always have me"