Disclaimer: Downton Abbey and its inhabitants are not mine. If it was, Anthony and Edith would have got together ages ago.
Author Note: Hey all. Well in anticipation for season 3, I have been having a little bit of a rewatch of DA and remembering just how much I love Edith with Anthony, as well as reading some wonderful fanfics for them. All my WIP are in quite angsty places at the moment so I was in need of a little fluff and happiness. This was the result.
A Labour of Love
"Charlie, why don't you like William?"
"Because he's stupid – he can't do anything."
Indulgently, Charles Matthew Crawley's parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles laughed as they sat about the dinner table.
Precocious at four years old, Charlie was certainly the son of Lady Mary. The afore mentioned lady felt a little discomforted at his response though. Seven months had passed since she had last gone through the labour of love which was childbirth and from that day to the present, her first born had shown absolutely no interest in his baby brother. Rather opposite, just disdain.
She was sure she had been better when Edith had come along. Of course, her own interest in her younger sister had been one a part time student might have in a science experiment... but that wasn't the point.
"Darling, he's a baby."
"He can't even walk."
"Neither could you at seven months old," she pointed out with a raise of her eye brows which told him not to push the subject, though it had, of course, been Uncle Tom's fault for bringing it up.
Charles muttered something under his breath, but knew better than to cheek his mother in front of his grandfather and father.
Nevertheless, he was a little dismayed that his mother and father were so instant on keeping the baby. When grandpapas dog, Isis, had had a little of pups, the earl had given at least four of them away. Wouldn't someone on the estate like it if he was to give them William? Carson had said not, but he might still have to suggest it.
The focus of conversation turned away from him. At seven years old, his Irish cousin Emily seemed impossibly grown up. She sat pride of place at their grandfathers left while their great-grandmother sat to his right. He could tell the three of them were quite animated in conversation.
No doubt Emily was telling him what she had read most recently, book worm that she was.
Sitting on the same side of the table, but at the other end to Charles, Lady Edith Strallan winced as she sat straight, trying and failing to find comfort in the hard backed chair. Well into her third trimester, she knew her grandmother thought she was a fool for even coming to dinner at Downton Abbey that evening. In her day, Violet would already have been laid up, as far along as Edith was.
"Poor Charlie. He has no idea he is going to have yet another stupid baby to contend with soon," Edith said with a teasing smile to her husband.
His smile was only matched by hers.
Few – actually, no one - had been more surprised than Anthony Strallan the day his wife had come to him with a nervous look upon her face. She had returned from a visit to Doctor Clarkson who had confirmed her suspicions that she was with child. Crippled from the war and already fifty five, he had long given up his dreams of fatherhood. They had died with Maud.
He had taken a little time to come around and to work through his doubts, but even he had been able to see how whenever his wife spoke of her impending motherhood, Edith's face lit up in the end. It did not take long for him to realise how thrilling the news was. Lady Mary had had a difficult pregnancy with William; yet his own wife seemed to breeze through it, the radiant stereotype of an expectant mother. Her only insistence was that he would not wrap her in cotton wool. If Sybil had worked up until seven months, then just shy of nine months, Edith felt more than capable to go to dinner with her family.
His only response was to reach out and touch her bump under the table, and was greeted with a kick.
"The baby's active tonight."
"Aren't they just?"
Looking down on the sorbet before her though, Edith sighed. She had had her fill for the night, and even though she knew dessert would keep her cool, she was not inclined to finish it.
Rubbing her stomach, she sighed and her husband gave her a knowing glance. "Excuse me."
As Edith got up, Cora gave her a sympathetic look. "Not long to go, my dear."
"No, Mamma. Can I meet you all in the drawing room?" she knew it was terribly bad manners to leave the table when everyone else was not yet finished, but she just needed to sit down properly.
"Of course. We won't be long, go and get comfortable."
"If she had listened to me," Edith heard her grandmother begin as Carson opened the door for her and yet was thankfully out of the room before she heard any more. She had had enough of being told what she was doing wrong for one night.
Once that she had answered natures call for the hundredth time that day, Edith proceeded to cross the Great Hall to the Drawing room which she was pleased to see was still empty for now. Removing the flat shoes that she had forced her swelling feet into, she sat – well, more slouched, - down on the sofa and shut her eyes.
Poor Anthony, he had been so lovely to her. But he seemed to be under the illusion that she was still feeling the initial bloom she had when she had first begun to show. Oh, she had been gloriously happy of course. The price she had accepted when she had married Anthony was to be childless. It had seemed a small cost, Edith never being particularly maternal before any way. But they had thought due to his age that it would be just the two of them for the rest of their married life. However, they had not factored in the fact their marriage was going to be quite passionate behind closed doors.
When she had found out she was with child, she knew she was going to make the very most of it. One child was a miracle considering. Two would be biblical. Besides, if the truth was known, she didn't want another. Selfish of her part perhaps, but she wanted to be able to give this baby everything. All the attention and love she felt she had lacked. More to the point, she or he was going to grow up surrounded by cousins and friends. They'd never long for a play mate.
So Edith had promised herself she would revel in the first step to motherhood. And she had. She loved the unity being pregnant gave her with her baby; she loved the morning fidgets and the afternoons kicks she was greeted with.
Until the beginning of that week. She wasn't sure what had changed. She was beginning to feel less pregnant and more fat. Less tired and more on the point of exhaustion, though she would only admit it to herself.
Maybe her grandmother was right. Maybe she should have stayed at home. But she knew if she did then she was going to give into the self pity and she did not want her husband to see her like that.
Shifting her shoulders to try and ignore the aching sensation in her lower back, she wiped her eyes and sat up like a lady. She had given up the corset though and that was the another good thing which had come from her pregnancy. The new dresses of the twenties were quite something and made her look forward to the thirties. As Lady Strallan, she had found she was able to indulge her tastes much more than when she had just been Lady Edith Crawley. Anthony did like to dote on her.
The door opened, but only two people came in, neither of which she had to stand on ceremony with. The three Crawley sisters had got on much better than they had as children or young women. Now Mary, Sybil and her were all wives and mothers (practically), they were finally beginning to bond as a trio themselves.
Life was less a competition to better one another in and much more a trial in which they finally understood the need to support one another.
She supposed the war had been the turning point.
"We thought we'd leave mama and the men to deal with Charles," Mary gave her ill disguised excuse for following her in so soon.
Sybil was less subtle. And why should she be? "Are you ok?"
"Yes, just a little tired." She admitted as her sisters surveyed her and her bare feet.
Mary gave her a quizzical look. "You both know how it is."
"Finally, she hits the 'get this baby out of me' stage."
"Yes. The ease at which you've done this, Mary and I were wondering whether it was going to be a cough or a sneeze which brought on your two minute labour," Sybil revealed with a jovial smile.
"She wasn't meant to know about that."
Edith laughed, to hide her fear. That was something else which was looming over her. Every day her child grew healthier and bigger in her womb, thank god. But not for much longer.
And then she had to get it out.
"Is it frightfully painful?" she asked naively.
Mary and Sybil looked at one another. Oh yes, it hurt. It hurt a lot. But that was not the sort of thing you told your nearly full term sister who was in need of a little comfort and looked to you to provide it.
Putting her hand on the bump, Sybil smiled. "It's worth it."
"That's a yes," Edith muttered dryly as she moved to get up. But just as she was about go, she got cramp.
"Ohh," she breathed deeply as she held on to her stomach.
"Edith –"
"It's nothing. Just a little trapped gas I expect," she spoke frankly as she breathed deeply.
"Has that happened before?"
"Sybil, don't go all nurse on me."
"Edith."
Looking at her little sister, the expectant mother lied. "No, not since the last rich dinner any way."
It was far too soon. She had three more weeks for god sake... And it was not as if they were regular. Only the one she had had when she had been changing. The one she had had to hide from Anthony when they had been driven over to the Abbey. The final one during the first course which she had disguised... but... it didn't meant anything.
Sybil didn't look satisfied, but there was little else she could do. Edith got up off of the couch, and took two turns about the room, stretching her legs.
"I cannot wait to go for a ride again." Edith had never been much of a horsewoman, but she did miss it now.
"Like mama said at dinner; it shan't be long," said Sybil giving Mary a pointed look behind Edith's back.
Just as Edith was about to walk round the room a third time, the door opened once more, a mass exodus from the dining room.
"You'll be pleased to know your grandmother and Joan have left us," her father told her with good humour, kissing her forehead as he passed and squeezing her hand. Joan Chatworth, Anthony's sister had seen fit to invite herself to stay. She had made no mention of leaving before she was an aunt. As kind as she was, her enthusiasm was a little much for her brother and sister in law to take when their minds were already so full with their impending parenthood. Thus when the Dowager countess had seen that, she had suggested the elder of the two Strallen siblings stayed with her.
Edith loved her grandmother dearly; when she wasn't in the right.
"Thank goodness. I hope I was not rude to her over dinner, either of them."
"Not at all. I think it was your mother who finished her off tonight."
Edith turned to Cora, who rolled her eyes. "I merely told Granny you didn't need badgering at the moment."
Herself a veteran of pregnancy advice from Violet, Cora had done her best to shield each of her daughters from there imperious grandmother when they were expecting. "Thank you mama."
"Would you like to follow suit and go home?" Anthony questioned upon noticing she look a little flushed.
"No, not yet. Have a whisky darling." She said, knowing he would not refuse a glass of his favourite tipple. "I would quite like some tea."
Taking the seat next to her mother once more, Edith soon found a fine china cup with a sweet, warm brew pushed into her hands. She felt very much as if she was on show by the way her sisters kept looking at her. Cousin Isobel distracted her mother; the two of them were discussing some sort of bring and buy sale which was to take place the following week.
A sight she thought she would never see was taking place at the drinks cabinet. Thomas Branson was choosing a brandy and her father was pouring it; a testament to how times had changed and how much Robert loved his daughters. Matthew and Anthony had found something to talk about as well. Somehow, she did not think fatherhood was too far away from the conversation giving the attentive glances her husband continued to throw her way.
Just as she drained her cup, Edith felt a familiar weight come into her blander. Honestly – fluid was just going straight through her now days.
The little moan of annoyance she gave caught the attention of her mother and so in turn her sisters as well as Mary's mother in law. Her sheepish grin explained what she did not have too.
"It's literally the worse part of the third trimester," Edith commented and got four nods of agreement.
Sitting up, she sighed and leaned forward to put her tea cup on the table when –
"Ouch," she clutched her belly, tea cup forgotten as it fell to the floor and broke. Lady Strallan breathed steadily to keep her cool yet her eyes watered. Everyone from Isobel to Carson noticed. She was only glad Emily and Charles had gone up after dinner. She would not have liked them to see her in such a way.
"My dear," Anthony was instantly by her side her good arm about her, the other trying to stroke her hair and only doing half the job really.
"It was nothing," She brushed it off as the pain passed taking the hand of his damaged arm.
"It was not," Isobel told her. Every mother in the room recognized the truth of the situation.
"Carson, go and make sure Lady Edith's old bed is made up," Cora commanded leaving no room for argument.
"No – I will be fine if Anthony can just take me home," Edith protested weakly.
"Having contradictions all the way? Somehow, I don't think so," Sybil agreed with the older woman.
"But everything is at home. Anthony," she turned to him, "the clothes, the Moses basket, everything's ready there. Oh, I am such a fool."
"No, you are not," her husband cupped her face gently, pushing a calming kiss to her forehead, in spite of being in front of the family. The only time the rest of them had ever seen them kiss was when they had been before the congregation at church on their wedding day. Though an affectionate couple, they had been quite private about their love.
But this was no time to worry over such things. "I will send for the baby's clothes, I will send for the Moses basket if you want."
She nodded as tears welled in her eyes. "I'm not ready."
"The baby is."
"I'm scared." For that he had no answer but to sit by her side, Sybil having made room and hold her as she gathered herself for the coming ordeal.
Matthew and Tom were quickly dispatched to Strallan House when they had had their orders over everything Edith was going to need. She was sure she was forgetting something, but as long as she had everything she needed for her baby she did not much care for herself. Her mother reassured her should they forget something, then they were bound to have everything they desperately needed in the nursery, what with William so young still.
That wasn't the point though for Edith. All of her things were new. She had chosen them for her child. For her little one...
Tears begun to pour down her face as she realized and accepted what was to come. She nuzzled into her husband's neck as the room emptied. Isobel would ring for Clarkson. Mary would help Anna and the other maids prepare her room as fast they as they could. Sybil went to change. She had a feeling that her nursing was going to come in handy, no matter what half hearted comments Edith had made earlier that evening. When they had been working in Ireland, she had been present at more births than she could count and delivered at least fifteen babies herself. Between herself and Isobel, she did not think they would have too much trouble getting the baby into the world.
Robert stepped out of the room with Cora, remembering how he had needed a moment with her before they had had their girls. The one time he had never got the chance to have a moment with her before one of their children had come into the world was when they had lost their son.
He would not deny Anthony what he had been.
"Anthony."
"Yes, my dear?"
"I love you ... very much."
"As I love you."
Rubbing circles on her back gently, something which he had fast become well trained in since she had fallen pregnant, he sighed. He knew it was only a matter of time till the women returned and he was told to go to the library to wait out the birth. But he didn't want to leave her.
When the women who was too be his second wife had returned to his life, the one thing he had noted was how strong, how fulfilled the war had made her. She had been altered by it... and for the better. But for the first time, he felt she needed him desperately. Knowing he was going to have leave her soon broke his heart.
And terrified him. He was had been a Victorian, after all deep down. He had heard plenty of stories of childbirth, unimaginable horror stories which wrecked what should be moments of perfect joy.
Unbidden, the thought that he might be both a widower and a childless father by the next morning came into his mind. But Edith was not Maud. She was his second chance, but never his second choice.
And he refused to lose her. She was so young, so full of life and pretty. She had revived him. If his child stole her life, he would never forgive himself. And if they lost the baby, he would grieve till the end of his days.
It was then that the door opened. And he knew the time he had had with her on their own had run out. He was not going to get to see her alone again until she had had her baby.
"Right, Edith, are you ready?" Sybil said to her gently as she and Mary came into the room.
"No."
Her sisters gave her sympathetic smiles. It was quite clear whether Edith wanted this or not it was going to happen.
"Come, let's get you upstairs."
"Anthony, can you take me?" she knew he was not going to have him in with her when she was giving birth and she would not want him there. But just when she was going up stairs, she needed his support.
"Naturally, darling," he nodded as he got up and then helped her to her rather unsteady feet. It was rather unsurprising she was so shaken. It was all happening rather quickly.
Even with the four of them, it took Edith a good ten minutes to do the walk that normally took her two. The stairs proved a particular challenge. Any hopes that it was a false alarm ended when her waters broke at the top of them. All the way, she held on to her husband as if she was afraid he was going to let go of her, in spite of him reassuring her with kind words and gently soothing her in whatever way he could think of.
When they arrived at the corridor all three girls had been walking down ever since they could walk, they found Mrs Hughes, Cora and Isobel (already in her apron) waiting for them.
"Come on dear," Cora said as she reached out for her daughter. "Let's get you inside. Anthony, thank you," his mother in law dismissed him.
Briefly, Edith and Anthony held hands, and squeezed tightly as they did so. "I'll only be downstairs," he tried to reassure her.
But the moment was soon over, and it was with the sound of Edith panting through another contradiction that Anthony walked away from her girlhood bedroom.
X X X
Once her sisters had helped her change out of her evening gown and into a night dress, Edith lay back on the bed, sweat already pouring down her, suddenly glad that Anthony was out of the room. She would not want him to see her thus.
While Clarkson and Sybil examined her, Isobel prepared hot water and towels to keep the baby warm. Edith relaxed a little when Mrs Hughes knocked on the door with a bag of things Matthew and Tom had been able to get together.
"There. Now just relax," Mary ordered her as a contradiction past.
Cora could not believe what she was seeing. There was a time when the two girls would never have dreamt of helping one another through anything, let alone childbirth. But Edith had been there when Mary had had William. Now her sister was repaying the debt.
"It's too soon."
"Only three weeks from your due date, Lady Edith, there is no reason why your child will not be very healthy. She or he has been moving around a lot haven't they?" Clarkson checked.
"Oh yes," Edith nodded taking some comfort.
"Well then."
"Doctor Clarkson is right, Edith. Stop worrying, conserve your strength: you need all your energy to get the baby out," Cora told her as she put a cool cloth to her daughter's forehead.
XXX
"How long has it been?"
"Three hours."
"Good god. Is that all?" Anthony questioned as he looked out into the darkness. The clock had struck one o'clock – the house should be sleeping. But it was very much awake, as was he.
He had been sitting in the library, where he knew he was going to be exiled too, with Tom Branson and Matthew Crawley as well as the earl. The four of them had not been close friends. They had barely had the chance to be. But all three of them had sat with him, lit up cigars, kept the whisky coming and waited with him.
None of them were showing any signs of leaving.
"It took Mary seventeen hours with Charles, fourteen with William. Believe me it is still early days. How long did cousin Cora take?"
Robert smiled. "Mary took her time, ten hours. Edith was a little more difficult and it took near twenty. True to form, Cora was in labour for just under five hours with Sybil, eager as she was to get out into the world. There is no knowing with these things."
"Emily did not take after her mother then. She was well over twenty hours too. Sybil was so tired, poor darling," Tom recalled.
He noted Anthony seemed to twitch and wished he had left off that last sentence.
The gentleman had thought he was going to be so excited when Edith's time did come. But he just felt afraid – he just wanted to go and make sure she was alright. He was sure if something was going wrong then one of the women would come for him.
But it did not put his mind at rest. And then there was the other side of it all.
He knew he should be thinking solely of his sweet Edith. But the pregnancies Maud had kept creeping in to his mind. Of course, she had never got as far along as his current wife had. It had always ended with a miscarriage in the night, or so he remembered it now. Maud's repeated miscarriages, he was sure, had contributed to her early death. He could not lose another wife. He could not lose another child.
"The two of them will be fine," Branson tried to retract.
"Come and sit down," Robert Crawley insisted. He had been in this position four times as a father, and this was his fourth time as a grandfather. He felt like quite the old hand.
He was sure they were going to be fine. Edith was stronger than she looked. And there had been enough sorrow in previous years. It was time for joy. And he was sure the birth of this newest Crawley – Strallan, he corrected himself – was going to bring it.
XXX
The next morning was as the previous one had been, cold, but clear. December 2nd, 1926.
As the sun crept into the Abbey, Edith collapsed back on the bed. "Ok, we really are into the last stages now," Sybil said to her, by now far more in nurse now than sister. Mary and Cora were there to comfort Edith, while Isobel and Sybil were there to tend her medical needs. Though Clarkson had been come when she had started, he had been sent home around four. Between the five of them, the Crawley women were sure they could get the job done.
"You've been saying that for a while, dearest," the exhausted women told her sister.
"Well, now she means it," Isobel told her. "Edith, when the next contradiction comes, we need you to pant until we say, and then push as hard as you can. With any luck, it will be very, very soon now."
Edith nodded, and trying to relax while she could."Mary?"
"Yes."
"What if this is a mistake?" she said as tears threatened. "What if I let the child down? What if I am a terrible mother?"
"Edith, it is a little too late for this... but just think about what you and your body have been through over the past twelve hours, all the pain and suffering motherhood begins with. And you're worrying not for yourself, but for your baby. Believe me when I say, you are already a wonderful mother." Kissing her sisters hand, Mary gave her a determined smile. "Now, please, I want to have met my new niece or nephew before luncheon. Let's get on with this."
Edith nodded as her face screwed up, a sure sign another contraction was due. "Edith, pant."
The next minute was full of orders. Sybil was to get a towel. Edith was to pant. Now she had to push. Her mother was telling her what a darling a girl she was, how well she was doing, how brave she was and how much she loved her. Mary was reassuring her that she was so close. Nearly there now...
And then, silence.
Looking to Isobel, Edith saw for the first time in nine hours she did not have her undivided attention. The tiny, tiny human in her hands did.
"Why isn't the baby crying?" Edith panicked.
"Give her a moment," Sybil said gently. Looking over Isobel's shoulder for just a moment, she too gazed on the child. "Hello sweetheart. How are you?... oh." And as Sybil sighed, the little one arched her back and let out a cry to announce her arrival.
"Let's wrap her up," Isobel told Sybil once they had careful cut the umbilical cord. Knowing they had taken long enough, once the child was in her blankets, Isobel walked down the side of the bed and gave her to a grateful Edith.
"Thank you, thank you," she nodded as she drank in her child's face for the first time. Her daughter. Hers.
She had done this. She and Anthony.
To the side of her she could hear her mother and Mary sighing over the beauty of her daughter. She was adorable, cute and utterly perfect. And it did not matter if they were over stating it or not. Because each and every person in the room were wearing the same rose tinted glasses which the ending of a labour brought.
Edith could see her daughter was red faced, still slightly bloody and blotchy. But Isobel and Sybil knew what they were doing. And she was sure it was awfully hard work being born. And she was sure she was perfect.
Her daughter would always be perfect to her; she swore that to her heart as she cradled her. Tears seemed to come never ending.
"It's ok, I'm here. Mamas here," she told the squawking girl, almost choking as she said the word 'mama'. She was someone's mama. She felt as if she had been waiting for this for so long. "I love you. I love you." She cooed unashamedly.
For five minutes, a perfect peace descended on the room. No one seemed to move. They just basked in the glory of what they had achieved. For now, there was no discussion of going to relieve the men from the agony of waiting. Edith was not ready yet; the after birth was still to come out.
And so Cora, Isobel, Mary and Sybil just watched an oblivious Edith as she made nonsense noises to soothe her baby and cuddled her close, pain and hours of exhaustion forgotten in a heartbeat.
Rubbing circles of her little ones back, Edith caught her breath. And those five minutes past too fast.
Cora was next to hold her brand new grandchild for a prolonged period as Mary helped Edith through the after birth, which was not nearly as traumatic as the actual birth. After it had come away (complete with the placenta), Edith collapsed back once more, looking suddenly rather tired and shell shocked as her ordeal came to an end. Mary brushed her hair out of her face. "You did so very well."
"I'm so tired."
"You'd best get used to that," the two sisters shared a laugh.
"Mama, can you help me into a new gown?" Edith asked gathering what energy she had left.
"Of course, darling."
While Sybil and Isobel stripped the bed as if they were in hospital and put on fresh, clean sheets, Cora stripped her daughter and helped her into a fresh nightgown. It was going to be a day in bed for Lady Strallan. Quite a few actually...
Once the bed was clean and Edith was freshened up, Cora rang the bell so the kitchens would know to bring her daughter some tea. She did not think she would say no to a cup herself.
"What now?" Sybil said teasingly as Aunt Mary placed her niece back into her mother's arm who seemed to relax instantly. Edith looked at her knowingly. "I'll go," Sybil left the room.
As she walked down the stair case, the morning sun illuminating everything through the window, she was utterly surprised by how jovial and awake she felt. Almost refreshed. Certainly not as if she had not slept in over twenty four hours, which of course, she had not had a wink of. Knocking on the library door and walking in, she took her opportunity to observe the scene.
Anthony came into her view first. He stood by the window looking out of it, pale and exhausted without half the excuse Edith had. Her own father sat at his desk, head in hands with Isis at his feet. As for Matthew and Tom they were slumped on the sofas. All four men had removed their jackets and ties, though only the younger two had rolled their sleeves up.
"Golly, anyone would think it would be the four of you who had had the most stressful night."
That would be topic of debate later on – but not then. Her eldest brother-in-law looked at her with the most heart breaking look of desperation. Clearly he wasn't up to jokes yet. "Go up. Edith has someone for you to meet."
Anthony did not need telling twice and was out of the library in a flash.
"Well?" Robert Crawley asked as he felt himself relax. It was clear from Sybil's body language that everything had gone well.
"The playing field has been equalled out. You have two grandsons and now two granddaughters."
"And they are both well?" Tom said as he went to his wife's side.
"Utterly exhausted, but absolutely healthy from what we could tell. Clarkson will be up sometime this morning though just to confirm and double check everything. But Baby Strallan has ten fingers, ten toes and two eyes so let's say she's fine."
"Well, then – what a way to begin the end of the year," Matthew grinned.
"I couldn't think of a better way too," Robert agreed as he stroked his dog. "We'll give the two of them five minutes – but then I'm going up."
XXX
He froze outside of the door which was just slightly ajar. He had been so worried and so eager to see her. But he just needed a moment to calm himself.
Breathing deeply, Anthony listened in. He had to know he would find her well... until he heard her, saw her, held her...
"Darling, are you hungry?" asked a distinctly American voice.
"Just thirsty." A well known and loved voice replied.
Edith.
What was he doing? He had waited long enough for this moment. Three decades had passed since he had first been told he was going to be a father. And this day, at long last, he would hold his own living, breathing child.
What was he waiting for?
He gave a gentle tap on the door and opened it. Isobel was who he saw first, fussing at the end of the bed over something he didn't care about.
The only two people in the world he cared about were at the opposite end of the bed, wrapped up warm. While Cora held on to a bed post at the end of the bed next to Mrs Crawley, Mary had seated herself on the edge of the bed. She craned her next so she see the baby properly – her whole attention was focused on the child, as her sisters was.
Anthony had a moment to observe his wife, so entranced was she by the new arrival that his own had not distracted her. She was the very image of motherhood to him. Sitting up in the bed, her lower half was covered by a duvet, her upper by her own night robe. Tom and Matthew must have found it the night before he realised. So delighted was he that she had a little home comfort, he did not much care his brothers-in-law had been in their bedroom, the private sanctuary of their love. Her hair had been brushed and was let down – and he did not think he had ever seen her eyes as bright as they were that day. But then, she was rather pale.
At last, believing the dream was real; he dared to look among the bundle of blankets in his wife's arms.
There lay a baby, fair haired, blue eyed, and undoubtedly a miniature Edith. He noted the curve in her little nose, the shape of her eyes, how small her ears were.
Just popping out of the blankets was one of her hands, curled round her blanket.
It was girl. A tiny girl. His tiny girl.
Just as he had been about to go to his wife though, the baby screwed her face up. Then she sneezed twice... and it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.
Edith chuckled, but held her daughter closer, and covered the exposed hand. Stroking the baby's check gently with a single finger, the new mother kissed her again and looked as if she was never going to tire of doing so.
"She's beautiful," Anthony could hold it in no longer. He would burst if he did not tell the two of them how proud he was, how happy they made him. "You are beautiful. Are you well?" he asked desperately as he crossed to the bed. Edith immediately stretched out a hand for him to take.
Mary got up, signalling to her emotional brother-in-law that he was too take the seat next to his wife. And, of course, child...
Edith nodded. He could hear Cora saying something about building the fire up. "I think so," his wife nodded. "We have a daughter."
"I know – but please don't stop saying that," he did not believe it yet and just then that was his favourite sentence in the world. Leaning forward he cupped the face of his wife and kissed her deeply on the lips, only vaguely aware that Isobel, Mary and Cora had left them.
Catching and wiping away with his finger the happiest tear she had ever cried, he looked down on their baby one more.
"Oh sweetheart," he begun as he struggled with his emotions. "I love you and your mother more than anything." He hoped Edith understood what he would never say plainly. That she had been the one to make the real happiness of his life.
And not just right then, not just the last nine months. Every drive, every concert, every moment of laughter, every coy smile, every brief caress... and the longer ones too.
"Hold her," Edith urged. He was the only human in the world she would willingly part with her baby for. The truth was she had longed to see her daughter in the arms of her papa.
"Darling, she's clearly comfortable. She needs her mama."
No excuses, not this time. Edith knew what he was thinking. She knew him too well.
"You won't drop her," she told him quietly with a mind to how sensitive he remained about his permanent reminded of the war. "What our daughter needs is to meet her father properly. Please – come sit by me, let me help you – but for the love of god, hold her, darling," Edith sighed.
His arm may not be as good as any other mans. But she was not going to let him leave that room with regrets.
Pale blue eyes met gentle brown and after a moment, Anthony admitted an easy defeat, removing his shoes before getting on to the bed to lay nest to Edith, his limp arm brushing with her body, shoulders touching.
Awkwardly, gently, slowly and with the utmost care, the two of them managed transfer to their little one from one of her parents arms to the other.
With his good arm, Anthony supported his daughters head and held her body, while his shattered arm came determinedly round to cover the blankets, allowing her body weight to fall on her father's lap (not that she had much of it). On top of his own hand, his wife's sat, stroking his fingers soothingly. Edith put her head on Anthony's husband and leant into him, utterly relieved that he was with her at last, basking in the scent of his colleague, the familiarity of the presence beside her. The newness of it all suddenly seemed easier to face.
Vaguely aware of the switch, the newborn girl opened her eyes again, which had been shut while she had been in her mother's arms after her father's initial arrival. After a quick look though, she settled easily.
Anthony let out a little laugh as he tried to figure out how he had got this lucky, trying to decide when his life had turned around and how he had utterly missed the turning point.
Had it been that invitation the night of the salty pudding? Had it been the first concert he had taken his darling too? Or had it been when he was injured? When his arm had been knocked out, he had had to go home. Had it saved him from a worse fate?
He didn't know. But it just seemed as if anything in the world was possible. And that was not a feeling he was accustom too.
At least he understood why he had fought now.
"My little petal," he bit he lip as his chin wobbled. "My lovely girls," he sighed as he turned to plant a kiss on his wife's forehead. "Thank you, darling Edith," he whispered.
And it was like that the Earl of Grantham, his heir and the journalist found the little family, wrapped up in one another, slightly shell shocked, but delighted.
The day passed quietly, with people popping in and out but not staying long, Anthony making sure his wife and daughter had the peace they required to recover. Clarkson made a call at eleven and then another at four. Sybil and Isobel checked in more regularly, the younger coming to aid Edith as she attempted to nurse her child, a process which the new mother was sure her husband would back off from. She had expected him to leave the three of them too it. However, to her delight he did not even try to go downstairs, instead remaining the chair which had been placed by her bedside to give him a little comfort.
"Shh, it's ok, sweetheart, it's ok," Edith tried to soothe the child as she started coughing, for the fourth time. But she wasn't very soothed herself as she looked up at Sybil. "She isn't getting enough milk."
"She isn't accustom to all this swallowing business, that's what she not. Give her a day or two; she'll get the hang of it. Just keep trying; she'll get what she needs. Plenty of new mothers at the hospital take a few days to get into the swing of it. The two of you are both so tired that everything is a supreme effort," Sybil reasoned. "Don't bully yourself. If you do, she'll know and it will only complicate matters."
Her sister did not look very certain though and Sybil understood why. She had been terrified after Emily had come into the world. She had been so much younger when she had become a mother too. Suddenly there was this little girl in your arms, helpless in every way. And it was up to you to provide for her. Which Edith was more than capable of doing if she were to just have a little faith in herself.
She needed a distraction. "So, are we to keep calling the baby 'her' and 'she' for the rest of her life?"
Edith shook her head. "We had settled on Katherine for a girl."
And yet, neither she nor Anthony had referred to her as such. Looking quizzically at her husband to find a reason for that, he shrugged. "She doesn't – she isn't a Katherine. I don't think."
"No. Me neither."
After another two attempts at feeding her daughter, Edith did her gown up and sat back, with Sybil saying she would be back later and they could try again. Maybe her sister was right – perhaps the baby was getting enough. She was certainly fast enough to settle back down.
"So what do you think then? What does she look like to you?" Edith asked curiously.
"I can't say – only that she is not Katherine. Nor is she an Elizabeth."
"Nor a Jane."
"No – not Jane," he said as he looked into her little face. He looked at her little eyes, her nose, her fair eyebrows, her chubby cheeks – "Rose. She's a Rose."
Looking down on her daughter, Edith considered. She was afraid flower names were quite common. Certainly, there had been three Rose's at least the year she had come out. But popular names were popular for a reason. And the baby looked so very delicate and pretty to her...
"Rose," Edith smiled. The word almost foreign to her as she said it for the first time in regards to her daughter. Any doubts she had were washed away when she saw how much her husband liked the name. Clearly, he was settled in his choice. As if in agreement with her father, the little girl opened her eyes up and gazed upon her mother. "Very well then. Rose it is."
Anthony smiled. "And her second name?"
"We settled on that too – and that is not one up for discussion," Edith told him firmly.
"I don't want you to feel you have too."
"I don't. Besides, it was my suggestion and choice."
Once more, he surrendered to her. "Then our daughter has a name."
"She does. Don't you?" Edith looked at her. "The little Lady Rose Maud Strallan."
XXX
Sybil and Mary were a little afraid at the end of the day that they had been a little neglectful of their own babies, so taken up were they by their sisters. Thus, when afternoon tea came around, Mary was relieved to have William in her arms and to see Charles with Matthew, the two of them teasing one another over one thing or another.
Emily, meanwhile, sat miserable. The newborn had been in the house nine hours – and she had not been allowed to see it once. She had been promised before dinner she would be able to go in. But only two hours were left till that happened and the adults were still just stalling as far as she could see.
"Come on, Ems, give us a smile," her father encouraged. All he got was a scowl.
She had been with him and her Uncle Matthew most of the day, as well as grandpapa. They had all gone for a 'nice, long' walk. It had been utterly boring.
"Can't we go and see Aunt Edith now? I promise to be quiet; I just want to see the baby."
She had been told all day how much peace the Strallan's needed – but it was not as if she was going to go in there and run around.
Finally exasperated, Sybil looked to her husband, sister and brother in law. "It is more trouble than it is worth to keep them away now. Let's take the children up for five minutes," she said looking at her daughter pointedly.
Emily smiled, knowing she had won a small victory.
"Very well. But you must – "
"Be quiet, Aunt Mary. We know."
And so the seven of them made their way back up the stairs, with Emily leading the pack, and Charles trailing behind them.
Arriving at her Edith's door, Emily waited for her mother and aunt to catch up. "They are awake." She could hear her other aunt and uncle chatting inside.
Mary knocked, and opened the door when Anthony called for them to come in.
Edith looked quite relaxed, having had a sleep just before Clarkson came for an hour or so. "You look better," the eldest of the Crawley sisters smiled, genuinely pleased to see Edith recovering her colour a little.
"Yes, I feel a little more like myself for a rest."
Mary was surprised by the gentle affection between man and wife. In spite of her intrusion, neither Edith nor Anthony had withdrawn their hand. In fact they continued to clasp them together.
"I hope neither of you mind, but we can keep Emily away no longer."
"Not at all," laughed Anthony as he nodded to the Moses basket at the end of the bed.
Emily walked inside as soon as she heard her uncle say she could. In order to give the illusion it was not only the baby she wanted to see, she placed a hasty kiss on both Edith and Anthony's checks before she went to the end of the bed.
"She's tiny." That was the first thing that struck her. Having been in Ireland when both Crawley boys were born, she had never seen such a new baby. It seemed to Em, they could fit three new born in there comfortably.
"Yes – she is rather."
"What's her name?"
"Yes, you have kept us in suspense long enough," Matthew grinned.
"Rose."
Silence feel, but there was a generally feel of approval. Cora and Robert had joined the family upon seeing them all creep up the stairs and so the entire family learnt there newest arrivals name at the same time.
"A pretty name for a pretty baby," The source of this comment was entirely unexpected.
Under her breathe, Mary felt like swearing. "Please tell me after treating poor William as an alien for seven months; Charles did not just say that."
"Boys will be boys."
The two of them watched as their son took a place by Emily's side, continued to examine Rose and finally reached into the crib to holding her hand in his own. Though she did not wake up at his touch, Rose grasped his finger and held on to it determinedly for one so young.
"I think she has a champion," Edith whispered to Anthony as she chuckled at the two of them.
"Not yet she doesn't," he all but growled, sending his wife into another fit of giggles. "Apart from me."
"Protective much, dearest?"
"You have no idea. She isn't leaving Strallan House until she is my age."
After five more minutes of cooing and doting aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents, a number he had counted himself among when William had come into the world, Anthony got up and took sympathy on his little Rose. With much greater confidence than he had had that morning, he lifted his daughter out of her Moses basket and cradled her to his chest.
Catching his wife's eyes, the two of them understood one another perfectly. They were no longer a pair. They were a family. And their little world had a new centre point.
"Well, we had better go and change," Robert said eventually.
"Yes," Cora nodded. "Mrs Patmore is going to send two trays up here for you both, I assume?" she said looking at her son in law who nodded.
"Yes please."
"Very well. The rest of you, I want you ready to eat by seven."
"One thing is for sure," Tom said to Matthew as they left the room.
"And that is?"
"Whatever happens after dinner tonight, it won't top last night."
However, as the turned the corner, the dowager countess came into sight, along with Mrs Chatworth. "Has anything happened we should have been made aware of?"
Tom looked to Matthew. Matthew looked to Tom. And then they both gulped. Apparently, the Irishman really had spoken too soon.
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