A/N: This was meant to be up weeks ago, but problems with Microsoft Word meant that I couldn't get it finished until earlier this week. As a result of this, I realise that it's a rather dated piece now since the first episode aired six weeks ago, but I still wanted to post it. I did steal Edith changing her hair from the show, simply because I started this piece in the middle, and it made sense to use it, though I didn't use the "have you done something jolly with your hair?" line.

First time writing with Edith, so I'd appreciate feedback on how I did. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.

Lovebirds

Edith sat in front of her vanity, scrutinising herself carefully. The day of the dinner had arrived, and now it was time to act. Ever since receiving the news that Sir Anthony Strallan would be coming to Downton to dine with the family, she had been on edge, wondering what she could possibly do to make him notice her and retract the hasty words he had spoken to her not so many months ago. Up until last week, she had been unable to think of anything. No matter what happened, she would always be stuck as the middle, boring sister, so much less beautiful than her breath-taking older sister, and so much less vibrant and spirited than her younger one. She knew what people said about her. She could hear them now. Poor old Edith. Always second best. Well, she didn't want to be second best any longer. She wanted to be first. And she knew she could be, if only Sir Anthony would see things her way. He didn't see her as boring and plain, after all. He thought she was lovely. So although there was, regrettably, nothing that she could do to compete with Mary and Sybil, Edith did know that she could change one thing about her appearance to make herself more noticeable. She could change her hair.

The door behind her opened, and she jumped, swivelling guiltily in her seat. She half-expected it to be her granny, who had the uncanny knack of always appearing when something out of the ordinary was taking place. If it was her, she was sure to try to talk her out of altering her appearance to attract Sir Anthony. Ever since she had discovered that Sir Anthony had lost the use of his right arm, she had most unfairly taken a disliking to the idea of him pursuing her. Or else it would be her mama, looking a little bemused at the fact that she was trying to attract a man more than twice her age. Or, worse than all, it would be Mary, come to belittle her with a clever comment or two. Edith didn't think she could bear that. Things weren't as bad between them as they had been before the war, but there were still times when Edith hated Mary. She had no doubt that her elder sister would be delighted to pass judgement on the fact that poor old Edith was frightened of being left on the shelf, while her other two siblings married younger, handsome men, even if their choices of husbands were not always more respectable.

But it was only Anna, and Edith breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that Anna would never pass judgement on her. Even if she was very close to Mary, Anna was a completely different person. The housemaid was kind and accommodating. She always tried to help those in need, no matter who they were.

"Good evening, milady," Anna greeted her as she stepped into the room with a smile. "Are you all right?"

Edith nodded, unable to find any words, then stood up. Anna busied herself with laying out her evening clothes, bustling around the room as she fetched everything that she would need to dress her. When she was done, she gestured Edith to come closer. She did so at once, and time passed in silence while Anna helped her into her clothes.

When she was almost done, however, Edith cleared her throat. "Anna?"

The housemaid raised her gaze and smiled at her. "Yes, milady?"

"Did…did you manage to find the time to practice the new hairstyle?"

Anna smiled at her. "I did, milady. I think I've got it just perfect right now."

Edith released the breath that she hadn't known she'd been holding. She had half-expected the maid to regretfully tell her that she had just not had the time to practice between dashing about performing her duties downstairs and dressing all three Crawley girls in between. And she had half-expected her to have not practiced simply because she was Edith and not Mary. Edith knew that Anna would do anything for Mary at the drop of a hat, but she had never been as close to the maid, and there wasn't the same bond of trust and camaraderie between them. Still, it felt wonderful to be told that her requests were just as important as Mary's.

"Thank you, Anna," she said gratefully. "It means a lot to me."

"It's not a problem, my lady."

"So will you do it for me tonight?"

"Tonight?" Anna sounded confused.

"Yes, tonight. I'd like to try something a little different for dinner."

"I can, milady," Anna said, but she was frowning slightly. "Only I've not really practiced it much on you before; I would hate to make such a mess of it when you've got guests coming to dinner –"

Edith suppressed a shiver at the thought of Sir Anthony seeing her hair as a complete mess. What if it went wrong and he thought her silly?

But then she remembered the way he had been so kind towards her right at the beginning, before the war and everything else that had happened between them. No, there wasn't an unkind bone in Sir Anthony's body. He would never laugh at her, no matter how her hair turned out. It was worth the risk if Anna could pull it off and it brought a smile to his face.

"It will be all right, Anna," she said. "I trust you. And even if it doesn't turn out quite right, I'm sure no one will dare say anything."

Anna still looked unconvinced, but offered no more protests. "Very well then. Shall I get started now?"

Edith nodded, sitting herself down in front of the vanity. Anna busied herself behind her, setting out the things she needed to curl her hair, lining up the brushes and pins. There was complete silence between them as the housemaid got to work, and Edith allowed her mind to drift away.

Inevitably, her thoughts drifted right back to Sir Anthony.

She wished her family would begin to see things her way. Why couldn't they see that he was perfect for her? How come she was being punished by her family, denied the right to marry who she wanted? No one had made any complaints about the match between Mary and Matthew. Indeed, it had been the one that everyone had been hankering for right from the beginning. And what of Sir Richard Carlisle? How was it that no objection had been made about him, when he was a great deal older than Mary was? And that wasn't even mentioning Sybil's choice of husband. While Edith had grown to like and respect Tom, the fact remained that he had begun as the family's chauffeur. Her papa had not liked that fact, but even he had not opposed the match in the end. So why was she the only one suffering when Sir Anthony was a much more suitable candidate than the Irish revolutionary chauffeur?

Stop being bitter, Edith, she told herself. You're not like that anymore. And Sybil said that you were much nicer because of it. It's not Mary and Sybil's fault that Papa is being so difficult.

But she still couldn't help wishing that he wouldn't be so difficult. She felt as if she had no allies in her quest. Mary found the whole thing entirely too amusing. Matthew evidently did not want to get involved. Granny was probably even more against the match than Papa was. Mama didn't seem to have much of an opinion one way or the other. And Sybil, the one who she could rely on entirely under normal circumstances, was living most of her life in Dublin, too far away to lend any support.

Her eyes drifted to Anna, who was biting her bottom lip as she frowned in concentration. Quiet, dependable Anna, who was always in the background, who lingered there almost as if she was a ghost...

Edith gave a start then.

Anna, who was married to Bates. An older man.

For a few moments she was too stunned to move. How had she forgotten that fact? How, when Bates' imprisonment had hung like a disease over the house for more than a year? How, when Anna wore her wedding ring so proudly each day, who was always referred to as Mrs. Bates by people like Murray and Dr. Clarkson?

Her heart began to pound hard in her chest. Perhaps she did have an ally after all. Perhaps she did have someone who she could talk to, who could help her to sort out her chaotic thoughts. Anna would know all about those sort of things, surely? But dare she ask her?

At that moment, Anna met her eye in the mirror. She gave a quizzical smile. "Is everything all right, milady?"

"Yes, of course," she reassured her quickly. "I was just thinking."

"They must be some pretty deep thoughts."

"Yes, I suppose they are."

They lapsed into silence again. Edith continued to mull over her new-found realisation. Anna was much younger than Mr. Bates was. Though the age gap between them wasn't quite as large as the one between her and Sir Anthony, he could still pass as her father under certain circumstances. And that didn't seem to bother Anna in the slightest. In fact, Edith had never seen her as happy as she was whenever her husband was mentioned. If they could be that happy with each other despite the obstacle of the age difference, then surely she and Sir Anthony could.

She should test the water with Anna. Anna could usually be relied upon to be dependable and honest. And if anyone was qualified to give her advice on such matters, then surely it was the housemaid?

"Anna?" Before she could even stop to contemplate things further, the word had escaped from her lips.

"Yes?"

Edith contemplated her through the mirror before making up her mind and twisting round in her seat. "Can I ask you a question?"

The older woman smiled kindly, pausing for a moment. "Of course, milady. What would you like to ask?"

Edith shuffled in her seat. She was sure that Mary confided in Anna a lot. The housemaid spent a lot longer dressing her each evening than she did with her or even Sybil before her move to Ireland. Had Mary ever disclosed her love life problems to Anna? Had Anna been privy to the gossip about Sir Richard Carlisle and Matthew? Edith knew that Anna would never tell her either way – Anna was too loyal to Mary – but it still wasn't make her feel much better, not when she was feeling so nervous. She knew that she was being silly, but what if Anna told Mary that she'd confided in her? What if they both laughed at her behind her back? She didn't think she'd be able to bear the humiliation.

But Anna's face was kind as she smiled at her encouragingly through the mirror, her eyes wide and honest. In that split second, Edith knew that she could trust her.

"Do you think I'm being foolish?"

Anna's brow wrinkled. "In what way, milady?"

"In the way that I'm pursuing Sir Anthony?" The words tumbled from her mouth before she could talk herself out of it.

Anna paused, looking wary. "I'm not really sure if it's for me to comment, milady."

"Why? Because you do think I'm being foolish?"

The housemaid shook her head quickly. "Of course not, milady. But I'm not sure if it's right for me to comment because of the way things are. I'm only a housemaid, milady. It's not my place to pass any judgements."

"You give Mary advice," Edith said stubbornly. "I know you do."

Anna hesitated.

"See? I'm asking for the same advice now. I promise I'm not going to repeat anything you say to me. It's just for me."

Anna hesitated for a second longer before relenting. "Very well, milady."

"Good. So I'll ask again: do you think I'm being foolish for pursuing Sir Anthony?"

"I think," she replied measuredly, "that if you love him and you believe in your heart that he's going to make you happy, then you should do what you think is right."

"Really? Even though Granny and Papa and the rest think it's a terrible idea?"

"You have to be in control of your own affairs, milady. Even if some people don't think it's right, you should persevere. I'm sure they'll come to see it that way."

"Is that what happened with you and Bates?"

Anna looked guarded now. "Beg pardon, milady?"

"Well, were people against you and Bates in the beginning?" Edith regretted asking almost immediately as she saw the way that Anna's mouth thinned. Still, the housemaid answered her.

"I suppose the others were a little uncertain about us at first. But once they realised that Mr. Bates' intentions were sincere, and that we loved each other, they accepted us."

"And did it never bother you that he's older than you are?"

Anna shook her head fervently. "No, it didn't matter in the slightest. We love each other. That's all that matters."

"I suppose it is," Edith conceded. "Because…because I do love him, Anna, no matter what people say. And I know he can make me very happy. No one else thinks he can…but I know it. And just look at you and Bates; Bates is older than you, and you're as happy as lovebirds, I can tell you are."

"Well, our situation is hardly ideal," Anna said, and Edith regretted opening her mouth at once. There was a certain sadness about the housemaid's words that burrowed deep into her core."But yes, we're very happy together."

Or we would be, if the heavens stopped conspiring against us. The words went unspoken, but Edith didn't need to hear them to know that they were crossing the maid's mind. She didn't fail to notice the way that Anna's fingers rose to caress her wedding ring, touching it almost reverently, as though doing so would bring her closer to her husband. Knowing that it was her turn to offer support, partly because it was her fault that the pensive expression had taken residence upon Anna's face, Edith turned fully in her chair.

"You'll get there one day, Anna," she said as kindly as she could. "I'm sure Bates knows how hard you're working for him."

It felt awkward, discussing such matters with Anna. She had never really been interested in the plight of the housemaid and the valet. Bates had never crossed her path and Anna had never breathed a word about him to her (although she was certain that the maid must have confided in Mary – her elder sister took an active interest in the servants' misfortunes), so it had never really occurred to her to enquire further. She was sure that Anna felt as awkward as she did.

"Thank you, milady," she said nevertheless. "That means a great deal. I'm sure it's only a matter of time until justice wins through."

There was silence for a moment while Anna finished the last details of Anna's hair.

"There," she said at last. "How's that, milady?"

She stared at her reflection, scrutinising herself critically. And then she smiled. It transformed her face. "It's perfect. Just what I wanted. Thank you, Anna."

Anna simply smiled at her. "You look lovely, milady. And," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "if it's for Sir Anthony's benefit, I'm sure that he'll appreciate it."

"That's if he notices," Edith sighed. She fluffed her hair self-consciously.

"I'm sure he will, milady," Anna said confidently, leaning across her to pick up a necklace.

"How can you be so sure?" she asked. "Sir Anthony is a man. I doubt he's very interested in how a woman wears her hair."

"He might surprise you," said Anna lightly. "I think men are more perceptive than we give them credit for."

The secret smile playing on the housemaid's lips gave Edith the impression that she had first-hand experience in such matters, but her expression was so soft and sacred that she didn't dare press her for any more details. So instead she accepted her words and smiled at her brightly through the mirror. The silence was more comfortable this time around as Anna helped her put on the finishing touches. When she'd finished, the maid went about collecting her dirty clothing.

"Is there anything else that I can do for you before I go down?" she asked.

Edith shook her head. "No. But thank you, Anna. You've been immensely helpful." They both knew that she was referring to more than just her new hairstyle.

"It was my pleasure, milady." Anna's smile was honest. "Good luck tonight." She slipped out of the room then, leaving Edith to fiddle nervously with her gloves.

She hoped that Sir Anthony would notice her new hair. Anna was confident, but she still wasn't sure. Her papa seemed oblivious most of the time if Mama did something a little different. Perhaps Bates had only noticed differences in Anna because he'd been trained to scrutinise people for faults so he could put them right before anyone else saw them; without that, he'd be no different to any other man, and Anna therefore did not have realistic experiences with typical men.

But still, she held onto her glimmer of hope. Sir Anthony had always been so kind to her, right from the beginning. If Mary hadn't cruelly interfered all those years ago, they would have been happily married by now. She thought it was terribly unfair of her family to protest so much to their union now on the grounds of the age difference when it hadn't seemed to have bothered them before the war. She knew, more than anything, that it had more to do with the fact that he'd been injured. That was even more unfair. Sir Anthony had put himself in harm's way for King and country. He had sacrificed all abilities of his right arm just to dedicate himself to the cause. How could anyone scorn at him when he'd done so much for the honour of England? And Papa was being particularly harsh for dismissing him for such a reason. He had kept Bates despite his injured leg. Bates had been unable to perform all of his duties and yet Papa had not listened to the others and dismissed him. Edith couldn't see how one war wound could be any different from another one. In fact, Sir Anthony's was probably worse. At least Bates could still walk.

Edith realised that she was probably being terribly unfair. It wasn't Bates' fault that her family were being ridiculous. And she knew that he'd probably give anything to be out of prison and back at Downton with his wife. At least Edith had the knowledge that she could see Sir Anthony whenever she wanted to.

She looked at herself once more in the mirror, making sure that she was as pristine as she could be. If Sir Anthony didn't notice her hair, she decided, it wasn't the end of the world. She would try and try again until something worked, no matter what her parents said. They wouldn't stop her. Sir Anthony was who she wanted, and she was determined to succeed.

Sir Anthony was already there when she finally made her way downstairs, talking to her mama. His eyes found her as soon as she stepped into the room, a smile brightening his face. She smiled back just as brilliantly, her heart beginning to beat hard in her chest.

"Hello," she said bashfully as she approached him.

"Hello," he replied, equally shyly.

Somewhere in the background, her mama gave an accommodating smile and stepped away unnoticed, leaving the pair alone.

"How have you been?" he asked her after a brief, awkward pause.

"Just fine," she replied breathlessly.

He shifted, scrutinising her more closely. She held her breath for a few agonising seconds.

"Have you changed your hair? It looks lovely," he said.

She released her breath in a happy sigh and smiled her brightest smile yet. "Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. I thought I'd try something a little new. Do you like it?"

"I do," he said. "Very much."

She could feel tears just behind her eyes, tears of relief. He liked it.

At that moment, they were interrupted by Carson's appearance, announcing to them that dinner was ready to be served.

She gave his arm a squeeze as he passed her by, and he looked startled for a moment before smiling at her again. She felt as if her heart could sing in her chest. One day, she knew, she and Sir Anthony would be as happy as lovebirds. She knew it.

As she followed him into the dining room, Anna's words echoed in her head.

I think men are more perceptive than we give them credit for.

Sir Anthony chanced a glance back at her, his gaze lingering over her face.

Anna was right.

A/N: Feel free to leave a review.