~The Act of Accord~

10th of October, 1460....

Constance smiled as she listened to the Cecily's overjoyed cries echoing from the courtyard below, the sign that the Duke of York had finally returned from exile in Ireland.

"Papa! Me want baby!" Anne demanded, leaning forward on her Father's lap to try and grasp the newborn babe at the other side of the hearth.
"Not, now, Nan" He chided, pulling her back with a gentleness that made Constance grin.

While Richard was kind, he was also a warrior, a man so to see him act the loving nursemaid he appeared when with his two girls almost made her laugh! He acted so with all children it seemed for the day he met little James, he'd cradled the babe as tenderly as if he were his own, possessing none of the aversion most men held for mewling babes!

He reminded her of her Father in that.

"When you are a little older, Anne" She told the three year old "Although he is small I think he would be rather heavy for you!" Anne shrugged happily and took to staring at the fire, little legs swinging as Constance looked down at her son.

Every time she did he appeared more perfect! At four days old he was a tiny little thing, every inch of him soft, smelling sweet, but he was strong, as strong as he'd proven in the womb with his determined kicks. The more she stared, the more time she spent with him, the more she wondered how, why her Mother hadn't felt the love she felt for James.

She'd questioned it before but never more so than now when her heart was filled with nothing but adoration for the little baby she'd created! When she woke all she wished to do was cuddle him close, when others held him, her eyes never left his face, searching for any sign of discomfort or distress. All Agnes had appeared to feel was indifference. Why? For Constance was sure her son would be the most beloved boy in Christendom!

"My little Jamie" She hummed happily and across the hearth, Richard smiled, one hand combing idly through his daughter's soft hair.

"You have done your duty" He said "You must be proud, Constance"
"I am" She admitted quietly, raising her eyes to his "Although I am no different from any other woman...."

Heavy pairs of boots marched along the corridor with the merry laughter of men and she exhaled shakily at the idea she was about to meet her Father in law; the rightful King of England. What would she say to him, how would she curtsy? She could still barely walk after the birth, each step forcing invisible daggers into her legs.....

There was no time to think as the doors flew open and three men strode through, Edward standing tall in the middle with his arms around the others. The first was obviously his Father, a little shorter than his son with a crop of dark curled hair on his head and a pointed beard, meticulously combed. Dressed in murrey and blue, his doublet was emblazoned with York's white rose as was the heavy chain of office on his broad shoulders.

Dark blue eyes twinkled when he laughed, gazing proudly at his eldest son as was Cecily who followed behind with their younger children.

The second man, Constance could almost believe to be Edward's twin, so identical to him was he but in stature and that his blonde hair was a slightly darker shade when they came close. He bore the same merry grin, the same confidence in his steps, even the same eyes his newborn nephew also shared.

"Ah, Edmund!" Edward exclaimed, patting him on the shoulder as he lead them all towards the hearth "Father, you must meet my wife, the new Countess of March"

Prompted by the words, Constance tried to make herself rise, grimacing as she pushed herself to her feet only to find the Duke's hand on her arm, gently guiding her back down with a shake of his head.

"Nay my dear!" He told her "Do not rise on our account, you must rest for yourself" His gaze flicked to the babe in her arms and she was sure his eyes shone a brighter hue "and your son! By God, Ned! You have a son!"

"I do, Sir" Edward replied with boyish pride, puffing out his chest as he came to stand beside his Father. Edmund joined them, squatting down in front of Constance to get a good view of the child.

"He looks like you, brother!" He exclaimed, swiftly catching both George and Dickon as they ran past with firm instructions to be careful around the baby.
"Yes, Eddie" Dickon replied dutifully while George merely shrugged, far more preoccupied with perching on the chair's arm.

"You are looking at a future King of England, my boys" The Duke said proudly, waiting for Constance's permitting nod before he gently scooped the child from her arms "Ah, he is a fine weight, my dear"

"Thank you, your grace" She murmured, smiling at the tender endearment which seemed as natural as if he'd known her her whole life "It is an honour to finally meet you"

"The honour is all mine when I return to find my son wedded and with a son of his own" He replied happily, holding little James in one arm to put the other around her shoulders. His touch was unfamiliar but she didn't feel the urge to shy away, it was warm, welcoming "I welcome you into my heart and home as my daughter, we both do, do we not, Cis?"

"We certainly do" Cecily agreed, gliding to his side, an action which carried his attention away from all else on swift wings "as I welcome you back into my arms after all these months" The love between them was clear.

༻᯽༺

Little Jamie filled her days with untold joy, as did the York family surrounding her. Often the Duke and Duchess could be found in the pretty nursery where he slept, marvelling at his tiny form, or their children peeking over the edge of his crib!

Always, Constance was at their side, smiling when his grandparents held him, whispering promises into his young ears, or holding him herself when the little ones wanted to see him. Dickon especially seemed keen on his young nephew and even rejected George's company to sit silently in the nursery, legs swinging on the window seat while he watched the little baby.

He seemed to enjoy his quietness, for Jamie hardly ever cried, and was also fond of the idea that one day he would teach him all the things he already knew! Perhaps it was a chance to no longer be the youngest of the family, Constance thought, a feeling she and her younger brother understood well.

She made time to indulge him and all of the children, of whom Anne was her favourite! Bright and sweeter than honey, having the little Neville girl skipping around was akin to having a constant babbling angel in her company! She'd even let her hold little Jamie in the days that followed the Duke's return, deciding if she held Anne on her lap and supported her baby, neither could come to harm!

It certainly made the girl adore her and soon she had her toddling at on her heels from dawn till dusk! Richard found it amusing and his Countess certainly didn't seem to mind or rather, didn't have a mind to care. The coolness she presented reminded Constance of Agnes, making her all the warmer towards Isabel and Anne when she saw them.

Little by little, she found herself at home in England, as strange as it was.

Two weeks after the Duke and Edmund's return from exile, she sat in the nursery with the Neville girls, one on either side, watching James as he slept - their Father gone to parliament with the other York adults that day.

"Tiny toes" Anne murmured, leaning over the crib to prod at one of James' feet that had escaped his blankets "little toes"

"Your toes were that small once!" Isabel said and Anne looked up in surprise, eyes widening.
"Me tiny toes?" She asked, making Isabel giggle.
"We were all babes once, Annie!" Constance laughed, lifting the girl onto her lap before she fell "Even your Father!"

At the sound of returning horses hooves entering the courtyard, she stood, carrying Anne with her to the window just in time to see her husband striding inside alongside Edmund.
"Edward!" She breathed "he's back!"

"Neddy" Anne mumbled, sucking on her thumb as Constance gently set her down on the window seat, a place they both loved to snuggle into. Just a minute later, his footsteps could be heard in the corridor but immediately it was clear something was wrong. The closer the steps came, the angrier they seemed, stomping against the wood until the door burst open.

All three jumped and when it banged back against the wall, little James let out a disgruntled cry, startled rudely from sleep. In the doorway stood Edward, a giant of a man that appeared ominous with his face twisted by rage. The blue in his eyes burned, hot flames that could melt a person with one glance, his fists were clenched, his shoulders drawn back tightly.

Constance's blood ran cold. In their nine months of marriage she'd never seen him angry, never glimpsed the cannon primed to explode at any moment.
"Girls" She murmured, ushering Anne to the floor and Isabel to her side "Isabel, take your sister to your rooms, I'll see you later"

The older girl didn't hesitate to obey, taking Anne's hand and all but dragging the poor girl out of the room! As soon as they were gone, Edward slammed the door behind them, striding towards the hearth.

"He's a fool!" He yelled "We may have lost everything today! And all because he couldn't do as he was advised! All because he was too eager and didn't have the luck to solidify it!" Shaking his head, he slammed his fists on the mantelpiece, making the whole marble frame shake.

Little James wailed, wiggling in his blankets and his Mother's heart ached. Rushing to his side, she scooped him into her arms, tucking his blankets around his ears to protect them from his Father's shouting.

"Who?" She asked, trying to make sense of his senseless words as she soothed her baby, rocking him back and forth. She'd never heard him shout before, never caught a glimpse of the fearsome warrior he was on the battlefield, secretly hoping she never would "Edward, what are you saying? What do you mean we may have lost everything?"

"My Father!" He cried, angrily pushing away from the hearth to face her "My Father strode into parliament today, put his hand on the King's throne and claimed it as his own in front of all! We asked him, we begged him not to do it! I, Edmund, Richard, Thomas! But would he listen? No! And there was silence. No objections, just silence which said more than a thousand words could! It was rejection of the worst kind, Constance, their thoughts were clear, not one of us had to ask!"

He laughed incredulously, shaking his head. His Father was an intelligent man, a solider, a leader but that day he'd proved as foolish as a child without patience and his rashness had perhaps cost them everything they'd gained. Seeing his wife and child only stoked his anger, their sweet, innocent figures, boiling his blood on their behalf.

God help England if any harm came to Constance or his boy for he knew he'd burn it to the ground.

What had his Father been thinking? What had made him stride into parliament, before the nobles of the Kingdom and claim the throne against the advice of all? Edward was young and admittedly impulsive (Warwick told him he took risks in battle that would see other men killed) but he was no fool, he knew how to wait, he knew when to wait.

He'd thought his Father did too, he knew he did....

So why hadn't he that day? It only made him angrier.

"And do you know what else?" He yelled, making James cry harder, now wailing at the top of his tiny lungs "do you know what truly made it worse?"

Constance couldn't think how it could possibly be worse "He walked to King Henry's apartments, which is where we put him because he is still an anointed King, and what does my Father do?" Eyes of blazing blue stared at her but she knew he didn't want an answer "Orders him to move out! To go to the Queen's rooms instead and says he shall have the King's!"

So it could be worse! Her eyes became the size of saucers, staring disbelievingly at her angry husband while he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut; unable to think clearly any longer with James wailing.

"Oh for heaven's sake, come here, my boy" He said at last, lifting the crying baby from Constance's arms into his own. Instantly, he was soothed. His anger ebbed, his shoulders slackened, the deep frown on his face softened. It seemed the mere weight of his son in his arms was enough to keep even the greatest of troubles at bay.

There was still anger swirling inside him of course but the fervent storm no longer lashed out lightning onto the world. 'No' Edward thought as he rocked James gently back and forth as his Mother had taught him, breathing a sigh of relief when he settled - he would save his anger for later.

"Come" Constance offered, gesturing to the chair opposite hers as she sat by the hearth, eager to keep her his rage dormant "Sit with me, my Lord" She was relived when he did so.

"Forgive me" He murmured after a moment, lifting his eyes to hers after bestowing a kiss to their son's forehead "both of you. I am angry but I shouldn't disturb our son's rest, nor your peace" Sighing, he shook his head "I simply cannot believe my Father's stupidity! It is against everything he believes, everything he taught me!"

It wasn't difficult to detect the note of doubt to his voice, the telltale sign of a grand image, forged in childhood, shaken in his mind. He looked up to his Father, he always had done, believing him the model for a man, a model for a King! That day even his Mother had been aghast, watching her husband as she would an erratic stranger, not her beloved!

None understood it. None ever would so Constance didn't try, instead she sought so soothe her husband, gathering her skirts and moving to sit by his feet. From there she could take his hand and gaze on her son, her head right at the level of his little one.

"Hello, my darling" She cooed, letting his tiny fingers wrap around one of hers. His touch was so soft, the silken stroke of a feather against her skin.
"Him or me?" Looking up at her husband with a smile, she rose onto her knees and bestowed a soft kiss to his waiting lips.

"Take a walk in the gardens" She suggested "It will clear your head, I am sure"
"And will you come with me?"
"No" She replied gently, stroking his cheek "I will stay with James. Be alone for a while, Ned"

For a moment he only gazed at her, tilting his head slightly with a lovely look Constance couldn't quite decipher, almost as if she were the only other person in the world. Whatever it was it sent warmth through her veins, a heated flush to her cheeks, but not one of embarrassment.

"Take a walk" She repeated, slowly moving little James into her arms "We will be here when you return"
"Is that a promise?" He asked, still staring down at her, trailing his fingers lightly across her jaw. Constance smiled.

"Always"

༻᯽༺

Constance was always right, Edward thought as he sat, legs outstretched beneath a great willow, it's trailing branches brushing the river's smooth surface. Every night the past two weeks she'd waited awake for him, no matter how late it got when he and his kin returned from parliament, pushing for the throne his Father had finally submitted a formal claim to.

Whatever he felt, weather it was anger or teetering on the edge of despair, she could soothe him.

She seemed to have deciphered his character many moons ago and now always knew what to say, what to do. It was part of her irresistibility, he decided, alongside her sweetness which could rival an angel's.

To his mind, she perhaps was an angel. His sweet Connie with her beautiful smiles who'd given him little James.

The murky water rippled as Edmund skipped stones across it, his pointed shoes almost submerged, making him curse beneath his breath when he noticed. Normally he would've heard his older brother laugh at his trivial misfortune but when he turned, Edward was gazing off into the distance, an almost glazed look to his bright eyes as his fingers toyed with a blade of grass.

"Is this love then?" He murmured and Edmund grinned stepping away from the river's edge to flop down onto the bank by his brother's side.
"You're asking me as if I would know, brother"
Edward sighed, tossing the blade of grass away.

"When she is out of sight I am almost driven mad, torn to hell, when she is in my gaze, I am restored to heaven" Edmund arched an eyebrow at his words, though sincere they sounded, he knew his brother better than any. He was a man of powerful feeling, often driven more by his cock than his brain if the fancy took him and he wondered if such thinking prompted him to speak then.

"Are you sure it is not lust you speak of?" He asked, carding a hand through his blonde hair "Your want of her simply driven to a peak because you've been denied her so long?" His brother wasn't accustomed to being denied his desires and when he was his desire was only driven more. Edmund didn't particularly understand it, being of a quieter nature, but it made sense to Edward who shook his head.

"I cannot eat, I cannot sleep" He mumbled "I cannot breathe without thought of her, Ed, and when I see her, when she is before me or settled in my arms, I feel God could not grant me greater happiness" Finally, he turned to his younger brother, sighing at the expression of amused doubt on his face "It is not lust, Edmund, I know it too well.....this, this is unfamiliar and yet nothing could feel more natural"

Edmund's eyes widened, his mouth twitching into a grin.

"Good God, Ned!" He exclaimed "You've become a poet!"

"She is perfection, it seems!" Edward continued, not rising to the jibe "She is warm, she is kind and at first seems shy but as I've come to know her I can see there is a fire within her soul. A fire that has long be suppressed but I know, brother, that I can stoke it to burn bright and when that happens I believe she will be as strong as any of us, even more so!"

His voice rose with determination, eyes glistening with hopeful imaginings and when he turned to his brother again, Edmund's expression had changed from one of doubt to one of shocked realisation.
"Christ.... you really do love her don't you?" Edward could only nod "Then tell her!"
"Should I?"

Edmund snorted, shuffling to his brother's side and clapping him firmly on the shoulder.
"You could claim one of the few love matches in Christendom and you're dithering over weather to embrace it or not? I never took you for a fool!"
"I'm not!"

"Then tell her" He urged "tell her right now or I will!" The horror-struck look Edward gave him brought the return of the brother he knew and he grinned.
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Wouldn't I?" He goaded "Better still" He added after a moment "I might get George to do it, that would be fun to watch!"

Now that brought a grin to Edward's face!
"Like the time you threatened to lock him in the cellar with the rats?" He asked, fond memories of the family summer spent at Ludlow the year before flitting through his mind. The sunset of their boyhood.

"Only because he threatened to do the same to poor Dickon!" Edmund laughed, leaning back against the willow "The lad was terrified!"
"And so was George after you threatened him with the same!

"Good!" He said with a firm nod, pushing Edward to his feet, as difficult a task as that was "Now for God's sake go and tell her before I do more than threaten!" Fresh from laughter, Edward didn't need to be told again.

༻᯽༺

Walking along the hallway to his chambers, Edward eyed the little bundle of red velvet he carried, newly retrieved from it's hidden place in Edmund's rooms. The delicate object inside he had commissioned himself, intending to give it to his wife at Christmas but what better than to give a gift with a confession of love, he thought?

Besides, it would settle his nerves.
He was never nervous....

He hadn't expected to love her, nor could he pinpoint the minute or the hour his feelings took flight, all he knew was they had. And it was high time he told her.

When he entered their chambers, Constance was sitting snugly by the fire, a sleeping James nestled sweetly in her arms. The love in her eyes was undeniable, blinding her to all else in the world, even her husband's presence.

"Connie?"
Her head bobbed up in surprise, a welcoming smile spreading across her lips easier than melted butter.
"Edward!" She exclaimed quietly, so the baby didn't wake "How is Edmund? I admit I've grown fond of him, he's rather sweet" Edward smiled, slowly walking closer while she looked down at their son again.

"My brother is well" He replied, sitting on the floor before her, close enough to feel his son's sleepy breaths blowing on his cheek "He is so tiny...."
"Your brother or Jamie?"
He smiled.

"Our boy, our perfect boy...." Clutching the little velvet-covered gift he took a breath, and held it up to Constance, watching her eyes widen with unanticipated excitement.
"For me?" She asked but it didn't make him laugh as usual, he was too nervous for that. Instead he only nodded.

"For you....here" Placing the package on her lap, he gently manoeuvred James into his arms, shushing the little boy when he began to stir "that's it, my son" He cooed softly, taking him to the little crib Constance had had placed by their bed and settling him into it "be a good boy and sleep"

James gurgled sleepily, smacking his lips as his little body curled up.
"I will call his wet nurse soon" Constance said from the hearth as he returned, sitting in the chair opposite "Now, may I open this, my Lord?" He nodded.
"You may, sweetheart"

Just holding it in her palm she could feel the cool press of metal seeping through the velvet and brushed it away, feeling her heart quicken; eyes widen at the gift inside. A small gasp of awe left her lips.

Sitting in the pool of red velvet lay a beautiful golden pendant cut into the shape of a heart. Fleur de lis and white roses danced across the metal in beautiful coloured glass and in the centre lay two twisted ropes of gold bent into an intertwined E and C.

"Tis beautiful, Edward" She breathed "and a heart too...."

"It represents mine" There, he'd said it and her gaze shot up to him, butterflies fluttering in her stomach "for the love that I...for what I....oh sweet Christ, Im in love with you!" He blurted out and was suddenly kneeling at her feet again, grasping her hands in his firm, warm grip, pressing the pendant between them. Constance could only stare, struck dumber than the child in the crib a few feet away.

"Je suis amoureux de toi" 'I am in love with you' He whispered, those great blue eyes of his staring up at her with all the adoration she believed God could put in a man "I cannot breathe....I cannot sleep without thought of you. Your eyes, they haunt my waking hours but never has torment been so sweet My heart is yours, Connie, there can be no doubt"

"As mine is yours" The words left her lips before she had time to think them, even feel them on the tip of her tongue. His eyes blew wide like hers, shining with excited realisation; the fulfilment of hope turned to reality.

"Truly?" His voice was earnest.
"I think perhaps it was from the first moment I saw you"

She was in love. In love with Edward of York.

༻᯽༺

The flames of the fire flickered low, barely warming the room but Constance was plenty hot enough, she thought as she lay her head on Edward's chest, their naked bodies pressed together. One of her legs lay hooked around his waist, his fingers combed through her unbound hair, gently massaging her scalp.

She felt no embarrassment, no shame, it seemed natural to lie just so with Edward, like she'd been made for it almost.

Being bedded was more pleasing than she could've possibly remembered, she thought snuggling against him. Perhaps it was because there was no fear? Perhaps it was because there was no pain, her maiden hood having been taken? Whatever it was it left her lighter then air, her mind swimming with love, with confessions of love.

He loved her.
Her husband loved her, truly.
She had a loving Lord, a perfect son, it was more happiness than she had ever anticipated.

Perhaps she would conceive again soon and give Edward another son or daughter? Perhaps by the time she was Queen she would have as many babes as her Mother! It was a thought she was quickly coming to enjoy, especially knowing she would be at Edward's side.

"The Act of Accord" He murmured with a sigh, letting his fingers wander down her neck, his touch softer than the brush of a butterfly's wing. Constance opened her eyes, blinking slowly as she shifted her head up to stare curiously up at him "the new act Parliament has passed, my love. It disinherits King Henry's son, barring him from the throne and when Henry himself dies it shall go to my Father and then....me"

Their faces were dimly lit in the late evening light, almost unreadable but there was no denying the smile that spread across her lips when she sat up, not even thinking to cover herself.

"Is that not good?" She asked, noticing Edward mirrored none of her enthusiasm. Was it not good that York was to inherit? Was it not good that Lancaster was bared from the throne? The simple shrug he gave made her smile fade into a frown "Lancaster will not stop fighting, will they? The war is not won"

He sighed a second time, taking a moment to gaze upward into the inky canopy, some things seemed so hopeless in the quiet. This new Act had satisfied almost no one, after all, it would be many years until King Henry died which meant many years of uncertain Kingship with an eager Duke ready to take the crown at any moment.

York would be more of a target to the Lancastrians than ever before, as would his kin be, his children, in particular, his four sons. By the time Henry passed, his only son, Edouard, would be a man, a Prince ready for battle that many would look too and he would be a threat.

More than a threat, he would be the dagger that served to slice the throat of the House of York and soak the ground of England with its thick blood.

"The war is far from won, Connie, The war shall never be won while Marguerite of Anjou walks the Earth"
Constance sniffed, she knew that he was right. From what she had heard of the Queen, the country had never seen a woman so determined to clasp to power with her wolf-like claws.

"Do you not think so?" She asked and Edward raised his eyebrows, reaching for her hand that was settled atop his smooth chest.

"If you had a son you thought the heir to a crown, would you ever lay down your sword until he had it?"

She did. And she knew she wouldn't.