Lady Edith Crawley stood in her silk wedding dress, almost crying with nerves. They had told her, Mama, Mary, Sybil, that this was natural on your wedding-day, but Edith wasn't sure.
Something wasn't right, she felt, something about this day made her feel odd. She was meant to be gloriously happy to be finally marrying her true love, but she felt more than just the usual nerves.
She was feeling regret, and a sickening feeling of dread pooling in her stomach left her with no appetite. She was scared, and unhappy, wanting to yell for it all to stop. She didn't like this wedding dress, she felt inhibited. Her shoes were too tight. She didn't like her hair style, it stifled her.
She didn't want to marry Sir Anthony.
With this realisation came relief, and then the sickening dread again, the knowledge that it was too late now.
She stood shaking in front of the mirror, trying to force a bright smile for her Mama and sisters. They all looked expectantly at her, waiting for the remark that she had never been this happy in her life.
Edith tried.
"I-" And then she broke. She wailed through storms of tears that she couldn't do it, she didn't want to go through with it.
Mama looked relieved, Sybil just happy Edith knew her own mind, Mary secretly grateful her sister was not tied for life to an elderly bore droning on about crop rotation.
Robert congratulated her on her good sense, and Violet gleefully announced she was going to sort things out with 'that decrepit simpleton' as she so delicately put it.
Needless to say, the Dowager Countess rigged things so Sir Anthony was made to see his duty, and take the blame, and Lady Edith was looked on as the wounded party.
The family Crawley, with close members of its clan, held an impromptu celebration later that night.
Great laughter was heard from the hall, and towards 12 o'clock music was put on and various couples danced rather drunkenly. Lady Edith explained her reasons to a handsome cousin, and much later could have been observed kissing him, but everyone was too drunk to notice.
Violet expounded on her opinions joyfully and had them all in stitches with her description of the interview with 'that decrepit simpleton'.
Lady Mary flirted with her husband like they weren't already married, being too drunk to remember much of the previous months.
Lady Sybil danced the night away with her handsome Irish husband, and in the small hours gave birth to a healthy girl, then went back to the dancing.