Why don't you want me?
Sir Anthony Strallan felt very uncomfortable. After a long discussion his sister had convinced him to join her and her friends for an evening at the opera. He hadn't been out and about since this miserable event, his nearly second wedding. Of course, he had attended dinners given by his friends as well as some private concerts or readings. He had spent time in his club in London and had joined one or the other friend lunch, but carefully he had always tried not to appear in public too much.
It's was his way to avoid every kind of gossip, as far as this was possible. And it's was his way to avoid a meeting with Edith, Lady Edith, too.
Now, on this evening, all his efforts seemed to be crossed. It had been right after the overture, just before the great entrance of the tenor, when he felt that someone was looking at him.
For satisfying his curiosity he had avert his attention from the stage and had glanced across the dimmed auditorium. A wrong decision. His eyes met hers and for a moment the world had been spinning. Sir Anthony nearly gasped as he recognised Edith Crawley sitting in a box directly opposite the one he was sitting in.
Her sad, mournful look had been a stab in his heart. He was responsible for this, he knew it, but it was all for her good.
The orchestra started to play the most famous aria from the opera given on this evening and it came at once in Sir Anthony's mind that this melody had been played during the first concert he and Edith had attended together.
She remembered it, too. He was able to read this in her face, in her looks. She tried very hard not to appear reproachful, but she couldn't hide her sorrow.
The man sitting next to her turned his attention to Lady Edith. He sent a smile towards her, took her hand and placed a slight kiss on it.
Anthony felt another stab. He immediately tried to repress this upcoming feeling of jealousy – and lost. Who was this man? Why did he accompany Edith? As much as he had avoided any meeting with Edith as much he had tried not to listen to any rumours about her. An idea he now regretted. Maybe this man was the perfect suitor Anthony had had in mind for her… although he didn't like it. What mind he now whispering into Edith's ear? She smiled to the stranger, but it wasn't the honest smile Anthony knew so well.
Edith's attention had returned to the singers, but Anthony wasn't able to avoid looking at her. Had she ever been so beauty, so vivid? Her new haircut suited her very well and her dress was not only perfect, but simply stunning.
Another dress came in his mind. He saw Edith walking down the aisle in her lovely wedding dress, He swallowed. Guilt and a sudden blur of tears forced him to look in another direction.
The audience thanked the tenor for his version of the particular aria, but Anthony couldn't remember any note. His thoughts were bended on another topic. It was a whisper by his sister that brought him back to the performance.
"It is said that he will sing for His Majesty next month", she said. "Something religious, I think…"
"Oh, really", Anthony pretended interest. He whispered back: "Don't you think that his top notes show that his voice isn't in the best shape?"
"Is everything alright with your ears?" Anthony's sister was significantly annoyed.
The music of the next scene saved from him an answer.
Later Anthony fled from his sister's anger during the interval while he pretended that some fresh air was necessary. He knew that she was keen on preventing any cold weather.
It was raining outside. So, Anthony decided to stay in the foyer. It was crowded, but he had found a small space next to a column. Hiding himself there, his thoughts still wandered around the unexpected meeting with Edith.
He was so deeply lost in his mind that nearly missed the familiar voice.
"I didn't know that you are back in London," Edith greeted him silently and added a polite "How are you?"
"I am fine… Lady Edith," Anthony answered struggling with the formal salutation.
She looked so fragile that he longed to wrap his well arm around her. But this wasn't his right any longer.
"Do you enjoy the opera?" he asked her instead.
Edith's glance clouded, but she banished every feeling from her voice. "Yes, thank you…," she hesitated, too, "Sir Anthony… The performance is quite enjoyable."
Her hands slightly trembled, but her attitude was as ladylike as one would expect from an Earl's daughter.
"Are you here with your sister?" he asked. Anthony had heard, what had happened to Edith's younger sister, but he didn't dare to ask about it.
"No, Mary stayed at Downton. I am in London on my own, seeing my editor. He invited me to join him tonight."
Her editor. Now knowing, who the man was, Anthony felt relief and didn't know why he felt this way. It was a relationship, but as it seemed only business relation. Perhaps he had misinterpreted their familiarity as intimacy.
"Anthony, a thing that has puzzled me for a while…" It must be an important matter Edith wanted to talk about because in the fever of excitement she forgot to address him formal. "Why…"
The bell cut her words. In addition, it made her changing her mind.
Instead of asking her question, she said hastily: "I better return to my seat before I miss the second act."
Anthony answered with a slight bow. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, E… Lady Edith."
She looked at him dolefully. "And you, Sir Anthony," she replied and hurried away.
Fleet-footed she climbed the few steps to the landing, where she was awaited. Her editor leant over to her and whispered something in her ear. Edith answered him with a giggle. Her eyes smiled at him as she took the arm he offered.
Anthony's heart beat to the neck and he felt quite miserable.