~A Third George~

July 1476....

Eleanor managed a smile as she walked into the warm room at Bisham Manor where Isabel Neville, Marchioness of Montague, lay dying. The older woman was propped up on her pillows and held a bright smile on her lips, though her brown eyes were tired and her skin a dull grey; made duller still against the bright bedspread that was laid across her covers.

Her black hair was streaked with strands of silvery grey and arranged into a neat braid that trailed over one shoulder which she gently stroked absentmindedly; her touch a mere memory of the one that had once been there.
"Your grace" she greeted as she noticed her visitor, holding out a hand which Eleanor immediately took, hurrying forward into the room to do so "you had no need to come!"

"Call me Eleanor" she said swiftly, kneeling by the bed "and I had every need of coming, Isabel. I set out from Middleham as soon as I received your letter!" The smile on Isabel's face widened and she nodded gratefully, a remanence of her youthful beauty shining through.

"I know my John would be pleased to see you here, Eleanor" she said softly before a shadow of a pained look crossed over her features, though she forced it away before it could settle.

"John is one of the many reasons I am here" Eleanor said "before he passed he gave me a letter, as you know, that asked I would take your son into my care to protect him from the grasping nobles of this country if he no longer had you and I promised myself that I would"

"And you are here to honour that promise?" Isabel queried, arching an eyebrow.
"I am but that is not the only reason"
"Oh?"

"Yes" Eleanor said, taking a breath "I am here to beg for your forgiveness, Isabel" confusion crossed the Marchioness' features and she squeezed the other woman's hand.
"Forgiveness? Whatever for, dear?"

"For failing your husband" Eleanor replied "John was a good man, one of the best I have known and I should have fought for him. I would have fought for him if I had not been so easily led by others but I know this is no excuse. I failed him as a friend, leading to you and your family's grief at his death and it is for this I beseech you to forgive me, my lady. I can only assure you that I will not fail your son. Richard and I will protect him with our lives and he will be treated as if he were our very own, though I promise I will tell him of you and John each day!"

Isabel smiled and let go of Eleanor's hand, raising her own to gently cup the other woman's cheek while tears filled her eyes.
"I forgive you, child" she said gently "you and Dickon were both so dear to John, I remember your husband as a little boy! I met him before we had our George so he was rather like a son to me"

"And now your George shall be a son to me" Eleanor said, making the older woman smile, a smile that widened as she suddenly saw the boy that lingered by the door. The Duchess turned around, almost gasping as she saw eleven year old George Neville. Just like his father he had black hair that fell to his shoulders in unruly curls, though he had his Mother's eyes, a deep, thoughtful brown that never missed a trick.

He eyed Eleanor curiously, clearly hesitant to advance into her presence as he was unsure of what to do for at the sight of her fine rings and pearl covered caul that held her hair he was sure she was someone of importance.

"Come to me, my darling boy" Isabel invited and George finally moved, shuffling to the side of the bed and kneeling next to Eleanor "this is the Duchess of Gloucester"
"Your grace" he greeted, inclining his head towards her and straightening the hem of his dark blue doublet.

"Eleanor is going to look after you, Georgie" Isabel continued, her heart twisting painfully as she saw the alarm that filled her boy's eyes. He knew she was dying and that she had been sick ever since his Father was killed yet the idea refused to settle with him.

She was his mother!
How could she die?

Rather hesitantly, he peered up at the Duchess once more, his eyes trailing over her fine clothes and red hair that reminded him of the bright flames that burned in the fireplace "She will look after you and not let any harm befall you, I promise" Isabel sank into the embroidered pillows a little more, a sudden tiredness overcoming her that also showed a little relief, as if a sudden weight had been lifted off her shoulders; her final mission complete.

"Mother?" Georgie asked, moving a little closer as he reached for his Mother's hand and his lower lip trembled despite his desperate efforts to stop it.

"Be strong my son" Isabel murmured, her eyelids growing heavy as Eleanor gasped slightly; realising what was happening before her very gaze. She put an arm around George's shoulder's "and I will always love you, never forget that"

Isabel's eyes closed, a small smile on her lips as she settled into her warm bed, the sheets encasing her in a cradle of security as she took her last breath and her soul slipped away from the earth, peaceful and calm.

She would be with John now.

George stared at his mother with an increasing shock in his eyes. He shook his head. Once. Twice. Abandoning his attempts to keep his lip from trembling as he now tried to stifle a sob, pressing his hand against his mouth. Almost immediately he found himself taken into Eleanor's comforting embrace and found himself suddenly clinging onto her as he sought comfort for the growing stabs of pain that struck his heart.

"Bring her back!" He yelled as he finally let his tears run free "you are a Royal Duchess are you not? Bring my Mother back!"
"I do not hold that power, sweet one" Eleanor said softly, gently rocking him back and forth in her arms while he wept "but I promise you will be safe with me and my husband, Richard at Middleham and your mother and father shall be watching over you"

"I don't want to go to Middleham!" George protested through his tears "I want to stay here! With my Mother!"
"I know" Eleanor murmured, stroking his hair "I know"

꧁꧂

December 1476....

"Anne?" Eleanor called softly as she knocked on the door of her friend's room "Annie? Please let me speak to you? Issy's here!" But there was no reply and when she tried the door it was locked.

Turning, she smiled at little five year old Issy who stood behind her, clutching her small wolfhound to her chest while she sucked on her thumb, strands of honey hair falling over her face.
"Why will Mother not see me?" She mumbled miserably as she was led away.

"Your Mother has lost someone very dear to her" Eleanor explained gently "her sister has passed into the hands of God and now she mourns for her"

"My Aunt is with the angels?"
"Yes, Isabel. Your Aunt is with the angels"

It had been two days before when the news of the Duchess of Clarence's passing had reached Middleham and everyone was sure they could still hear the heart wrenching scream that had wrenched itself from Anne's delicate throat when she heard.

The sisters had not seen each other since 1471 yet had managed to keep up with sending letters to each other and so had reclaimed a remanence of the closeness they had shared when they were young.

Isabel had died of childbed fever, the same disease Eleanor had survived earlier that year and while she had never been a friend to the other Duchess and had frankly never really liked her, she still prayed for her and the small babe that had died along with her. Her second son, named Richard. Her first (little Edward) had been born in December of the previous year and was now a little one year old without a Mother as was his sister, three year old Margaret.

Sighing sadly, Eleanor picked up Isabel as they walked down the steps to the great hall, gently kissing the little girl's forehead and smiling at her as encouragingly as she could.
"Your Mother loves you very much" she said "and she always will...."

The two looked up, frowning as the sound of raised voices erupted from the far end of the hall. They were ones of anger, of shock and disbelief and rose in torrents of rage to the rafters "Go to the nursery, ma petit" Eleanor murmured, setting Isabel on her feet before she walked to the fire where her husband and his friends were gathered.

"What is it?" She asked, troubled to see them all staring angrily at a letter that was in a hand she did not fully recognise at first but had still managed to send all of the men into a rage all the same.
"George has gone mad it seems!" Richard muttered grimly, shaking his head "guess what he has done?" Eleanor stared at him blankly "go on, guess!"

"I...I don't...."
"He's only gone and hung a woman without a trial for 'poisoning' Isabel!" Francis answered for her, not angry as the others were but still clearly troubled.
"What?!" Eleanor cried in disbelief. George was many things but surely he would not go so far as to consider himself above the law in this way? She stopped herself. Of course he would consider himself above the law if it came to it, just as he had done before.

When it came to crime, he rather thought himself untouchable.

Still, she refused to believe it at first. George could be stupid at times, that much was true, but he wouldn't turn to the cold blooded murder of a woman! And without a trial too! "Are you sure this is not just rumour?" She questioned "I don't believe he would go this far"

"Oh, but he has Leena" Richard grumbled, holding up a letter that held the royal seal of King Edward. Eleanor shook her head "This. Is the warrant for George's arrest! From our own brother! They are mad! Both of them!"

"Gentlemen" she said slowly, scanning the faces of friends that were gathered around the fireplace, watching their Duke carefully "I wonder if you would leave us for a moment?"

"Of course" Jack said with a nod, motioning for the others to come away before he left himself and the Duke and Duchess were left alone.

"Perhaps I should go and see him?" Eleanor suggested as she moved towards her husband but he shook his head.
"You can't" he said with a shrug "Edward has already sent soldiers to Warwick castle....George was not there but a man was. Thomas Burdett, a sorcerer"

"A sorcerer?"
"Aye, a sorcerer but Edward says he's dead now....and well George has been proclaimed a traitor once again for this was no ordinary sorcerer to protect himself. George has been conspiring against the Queen it seems and predicting the King's death!"

"Oh...." Eleanor sighed, before a disgruntled cry left her "oh....fucking hell George what are you thinking?!"
"He not thinking!" Richard yelled, crumpling the letter in his hands before he threw it into the flames of the fire "he never does! Even when we were children he was reckless!"

"I doubt he was as reckless as this!" Eleanor shouted "we have to find him! We have to help him!"
"He's a proclaimed traitor, Eleanor!" Richard said firmly "we can have no more contact with him! Not unless we want to find ourselves in the tower and our children's guardianships auctioned off to noble families! We must wait until he's caught, then we may be able to plead for him!"

"What do you think Edward will do?" Eleanor asked as she folded her arms, her brows furrowing as she thought. Richard had said himself that if George tested his hand on the wheel of treason a third time the King would not be forgiving....and he had.

He had thrown himself into the path of death once more. Almost without thinking, it seemed.

"Lock him away for the duration of his life" he said, leaning against the wall "that's the only thing he can do"
"And Eliza?" Richard looked up "do you think she will be able to see him? Bella is lost to her, George cannot be too....she's only seven"

"Edward is not heartless" he replied, his voice slightly steadier "she will be able to see him, maybe not at first but....I will speak to him about it as will you, I am sure" Eleanor nodded. She would speak to Edward and would not stop until he allowed Eliza to see her Father. She would not let them be separated.

"And what if George comes here?" She continued "he might and I think you know that. What are we going to do if he turns up here for I will not be the one to hand him over to my sister to be butchered with her axe!
"I don't know" Richard sighed, slipping his hand into Eleanor's and gently kissing her forehead "I do not know, Leena. We shall have to cross that bridge when we come to it"

"And I will pray that we do not have to" she murmured quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder.