After Sir Anthony left Lady Edith at the altar he moved to Tangiers. He found it a good place to live unnoticed, while trying to avoid meeting Lady Edith or any of the other Crawleys.
Anthony made a number of friends among the English people there. They were the kind of friends you can exchange a few words with when you meet without getting too involved in each other's personal lives. That was a kind of friendship that suited Anthony well at this time of his life - the easy kind of friendship where you tolerate or simply don't care about your fellow man's foibles and flaws.
Many of the English in Tangiers had something they wanted to avoid in England. They all seemed to have run away from something - well, many of them did - and nobody asked any unnecessary questions.
One of the men Anthony got to know was Peter Pelham, a young Marquess who spent most of his time in Tangiers, trying to avoid marrying his cousin in England. Most mornings and some afternoons the man could be seen with his easel and his palette, painting scenes of local life. He was a gifted painter, although there were perhaps a little too many half-naked men in the paintings to suit Sir Anthony's personal taste.
But, each to their own, and the young Marquess was an easy-going and friendly man. So they got along splendidly together, although in many ways they were very different from each other.
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In 1925, when Sir Anthony had lived for almost five years in Tangiers, the young Marquess suddenly died.
This was a difficult thing for the men who knew Peter Pelham in Tangiers. You can't leave a dead person unburied for very long in Tangiers, because of the hot weather.
The English in Tangiers didn't know if there was any heir to the title - Lord Hexham certainly didn't have any sons of his own. So they had no way to know if the new Marquess wanted Lord Hexham buried in England or here in Tangiers.
Eight men who had known the late Marquess got together to discuss what to do. They decided to bury Lord Hexham as soon as possible and at the same time try to contact his relatives in England, if there were any. It was possible to open the grave later on and send the body back to England if it was desired by his kinsmen.
One of the English in Tangiers was a retired clergyman. He held a short ceremony for the late Lord Hexham before the body was lowered into the ground.
After the young Marquess was buried it was found out that he really had an heir, a distant cousin called Herbert Pelham. Someone had remembered Lord Hexham talking about his younger cousin Bertie, whom he had grown up with and who was taking care of Brancaster for him while he was away from it.
So Bertie got the news of his cousin's demise from the English in Tangiers just before the newspapers got hold of it and printed it.
...
Up in the aeroplane on his way to Tangiers Bertie surprised himself by not being the slightest bit scared - he didn't mind at all if the plane crashed and put an end to his miserable life.
He wasn't a bit excited either about being up among the clouds like a bird and seeing the countryside like a big velvet blanket - green with brown and blue patches - far beneath him. Normally this would have thrilled him immensely - flying in an aeroplane for the first time in his life - but now everything was grey and indifferent to him.
Bertie was sad that Peter was dead but what he was really devastated about was that he had broken up with Edith. It had happened only half a day earlier and he already felt how impossible it was for him to live without her.
It was really strange, because while he was courting Edith there were often many weeks between the times they could meet. But the difference was, of course, that then he had always had the hope of meeting her again and eventually marry her. Now they had said their goodbyes and she had wished him good luck, doubting they would ever meet again.
That was a thought too hard to bear, and Bertie was thankful that all his tears could be taken as grief for his cousin.
...
When Bertie arrived in Tangiers he looked up the person who had sent him the telegram about his cousin's demise. This man called together most of those who had been at the funeral. This was the way Herbert Pelham first met Sir Anthony Strallan.
If Bertie had known the name of the man who had left Edith at the altar, he would probably have reacted more strongly when meeting him. But to him the man presented as Sir Anthony was just one of these people who had been friendly to Peter. Bertie was introduced to more than twenty new people that afternoon, so he forgot Anthony's name as soon as he heard it.
"Your cousin was a very nice man", Sir Anthony said after he was introduced. "And a good painter. I think he was happy here."
"Yes, I know he was", Bertie said. "He felt more free to be himself here - if you know what I mean. It's just - I miss him so much."
And Bertie eyes filled with tears again. Half of the tears were for Edith, of course, but he didn't tell anyone about that.
"The English here are very tolerant", Sir Anthony said. "We all knew about Lord Hexham's - what shall I call it? preferences? - but none of us cared. We all have things we have run away from."
Bertie, of course, had no idea that his wonderful Edith was the thing Sir Anthony had - literally - run away from.
...
When Sir Anthony went to the bar for his nightcap two days later he found the new Marquess in a corner, sobbing over a glass of whiskey.
"I'm sorry about your cousin" the older man said. "He was a nice man and we all liked him."
Bertie looked up and when he saw the older man he got up to stand on shaky legs, asking Anthony to join him. Anthony was quick to accept and sit down, fearing the young Marquess was about to topple over. The glass in front of him was obviously far from the only one he had gulped down this evening.
Bertie sat down again, still sobbing.
"I know I'm making a fool of myself", he snivelled. "But I'm not crying for Peter. That's only part of it."
"Ah!" Sir Anthony said. "Now then, what else is making you sad?"
"I'm drunk...I'm so...intoxi...toxi...ineb...ebri...well, you know..."
Bertie tried to lift his glass but he couldn't get a firm grip on it, so he put it down again with a bang. Fortunately it didn't break.
"If being drunk makes you sad, you'd better stop drinking", Anthony said with a friendly smile.
The waiter came to their table and Anthony ordered a whiskey for himself and a cup of coffee for the new Marquess. Bertie didn't protest. They were both silent, Bertie endeavouring with little success to dry his eyes with the back of his hand.
"I'm worthless", Bertie slurred. "I'm a cruel, awful man... I hate myself..."
"Surely not", Anthony said. "You seem to be rather nice. Lord Hexham used to say his cousin was the kindest man in England. And if you really were bad, you wouldn't be crying about it."
"But I am bad", Bertie sobbed. "You don't know me. You don't know what I did...I had the most wonderful girl in England and I threw her away. Although I could see how sad I made her."
"Well, I can certainly relate to that", Sir Anthony said with a sigh.
AN: Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment!
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This is possibly very un-historical, I haven't done much research on the English in Tangiers at the time.
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I got the inspiration for the story from a comment by Guest to A Young Man with His Life Ahead of Him: "Given that both Anthony and Bertie are sweet guys, would be interesting to see how it would be with them meeting too."
So please keep commenting if you want me to keep writing! I get many ideas from all your lovely comments!
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I placed Anthony in Italy in A Young Man.., and in Tangiers here. Of course they are different fanfiction versions. In A Young man... Anthony and Bertie haven't met - yet.
But that is the lovely thing about writing fiction - I can do as I please. And I can do differently each time.