I'm doing something I rarely do. I'm starting a story with no earthly idea of where it is going. And, I haven't written several chapters before posting the first one. Needless to say, this will be interesting, especially since I'm up to my eyeballs in another story in another fandom. But I was in the mood for some Anthony. And a crazy idea took root in my mind, one that I've toyed with before but not quite this way and not quite this crazy. I started it thinking it would be a kind of crack one-shot but Anthony and my OC seem to have other ideas. As you will see as the story evolves, they seem to have ideas of their own and are leading me from my original path. Anyway, posts will be sporadic and I do apologize in advance for that. Please be patient. I hope you enjoy.
Katie finished watching the video, the last episode of her favorite show, and was frustrated. Of course it didn't happen, she wasn't expecting that it would, but she was hoping he'd at least get a mention. To expect that he would reappear after his somewhat tragic departure would be expecting too much. Well, she sighed, time to get back to work on the game.
...
She moved to her computer, pulled up the game, selected the character and began to play. She placed him in his library in a cottage he'd rented along the coast. One good thing about the game was, the location was vague so she didn't have to worry about which coast. Other details were more important. Focusing on the screen, she began to command the character...
Anthony Stallan sat in a comfortable chair in his library, the large window overlooking the coast with seagulls circling some unknown treasure in the water. If he were outside, their shrieks and calls would be loud but as it was, their sounds meshed together in something of a chorus of background music for the melancholic man. He put down the paper he'd just finished reading, the one from York which held the news of the marriage of Lady Edith Crawley to Lord Hexham.
He sighed as he stared blankly at the opposite wall. It was what he'd wanted, he reminded himself. Six years ago he'd left her at the altar so that she would give up the idea of him as anything close to a suitable match. Now she was married to someone more her age and certainly above them all in station, a marquess no less. So why wasn't he happier, he asked himself. It was what he'd wanted for her and more.
He'd known the groom's parent's many years ago when he'd been in society. Although only an heir to a mere baronet, he'd been popular in his youth, especially with the ladies. With his height, striking blue eyes, otherwise reasonably good looks, and easy manner, he danced with most of the eligible young ladies in society of his time. They tended to overlook his awkwardness and happily chattered on about all the things young ladies chattered about in those days and he'd listened quietly, offering a compliment or comment when one was required and squired several around the balls.
He'd met Lord Hexham's mother in those days, danced with her frequently, and thought she'd had a genuine interest in him. As it turned out, she'd only used him to make Charles Pelham jealous. Charlie had been quite the ladies' man in those days, never appearing with the same young lady more than once or twice and then moving on to another. He'd never allowed his name to be associated with any one young lady and expressed complete disdain for the idea of marriage before his fortieth birthday. Once Anthony had realized that he was a pawn in a game he disliked, he backed away and left the two to their own devices. Although he never knew for certain, he was fairly certain Charlie Pelham had been trapped cleverly by someone far more shrewd than he was. Their wedding was the next summer, a good fifteen years before Charlie's fortieth. Anthony smirked to himself as he recalled his own relief at being free of any expectations that he might wish to marry the girl.
Two years later, on a trip to visit relatives in Austria and see a few of the sights, he met Maud von Aigen and married her a few months later. Her family lived near his father's cousins and they met at a dinner arranged by them. Maud wasn't especially beautiful but he found her charming. Even more appealing, he didn't have to stoop when they were conversing. With his height, he often found himself leaning down to hear. Besides, it often seemed to him that his far shorter countrymen often seemed to be breaking their necks to peer up at him. With Maud, who was nearly six feet tall, the conversations were easy and there were no sore necks in the morning.
Their life together had been sweet. There was love but not the passionate sort that one so often reads about in books. And they shared interests in many things, as well as similar senses of humor. They'd hoped for a large family but that had not been their destiny. A visit to visit their Austrian family twelve years later had ended in tragedy, with her drowning in the lake near her parent's home.
Anthony missed Maud terribly when he returned home to Locksley. He'd thrown himself into the estate work, modernizing and refurbishing the farms. He'd started a few orchards in the fields behind the house early in his management and now worked to expand them. That and his books were his life in total until the Foreign Office contacted him about the rumblings from the Continent. His services were requested because of his connections in both Austria and Germany. For the next few years, he travelled regularly to those regions on the pretense of visiting family or attending agricultural events.
He was content in those years, if not entirely happy. Truth was, he was lonely. And then a fateful invitation arrive in the Post. He was invited to a dinner by Lady Grantham. He knew them, of course. One doesn't live next to an estate without knowing the owners. He and Lord Grantham, Robert, had been in school together for a time. And when Maud was alive, they'd attended events at one another's houses. But after Maud died, he didn't host any events and so the invitations stopped. After all, what could be worse than a lonely widower at the dinner table among all the bright, happy people?
But for some reason, he was invited once again to Downton and more out of curiosity than anything, he accepted. Lady Edith had been charming enough, but oh so very young. Lady Mary seemed to take a sudden interest in him after dinner and he later admitted to himself that he'd been somewhat chuffed by it. He was called away for another fact finding trip to Germany and so it was several weeks before he was able to follow up on Lady Mary's apparent interest. He'd made some feeble excuse to see her, a drive in his new car and she had declined. He hadn't really been surprised. Rumors were rampant in London and if they were even half true, he would be of no interest to the young lady except as a refuge from her exploits. When the younger Lady Edith spoke up, asking to replace her sister in the front seat of his Rolls, he had been surprised. He hadn't thought much of it when he agreed to take her for a spin; she was very young and probably just excited about the car or perhaps a chance to get away from the house for a bit.
As he learned that afternoon, it wasn't youthful excitement that had prompted her but a genuine interest in him. Those were beautiful days, that summer before the war when the two of them would spend their afternoons driving through country lanes, talking and laughing, sharing, and very gently falling in love.
She was too young for him even then, of course. But that summer it didn't seem to matter. They relished each other's company and his confidence built more with each encounter until finally he'd worked up the nerve to ask a very important question. He left for the Downtown Garden party full of hope and anticipation, believing his days of being lonely might truly be over.
He returned home a sad, confused, and humiliated man.
The war had been horrendous. His wounds, both inside and out were worse. And when he once again returned to Locksley, he was a broken man, not only in body but in spirit as well. Then suddenly she was there again, insisting on being let into his life. Insisting on spending time with him again, just as they had before. She wouldn't accept his reasons for why not and forged ahead, pulling him along in her wake of excitement and determination. In the process he came alive again and while his body would never again be the same, his spirit grew stronger. She gave him back his life. Once again it mattered, he mattered.
But she had a vast horizon of possibilities in front of her and his horizons was growing dimmer and dimmer and the size shrank with each passing year. He questioned the rightness of them getting married but no one seemed to want to address his concerns, help him see things clearly. And on the morning of his wedding to a woman who could elicit the passion that had been lacking in his first marriage, he finally saw it all, the future finally becoming clear. He could not marry her, would not do that to her. And so he walked away, once again broken and this time humiliated beyond imaginings. He cried as he walked across the fields to return home. She'd given him so much hope and now it was gone. And suddenly his horizons were very dim indeed.
He'd spent most of the next five years traveling or residing in some place other than Locksley. He returned often enough to be sure the estate was being managed well. He did, after all, still have an obligation to the tenants on the farms. But he never stayed long and rarely ventured into the village where he might cross paths with any of the Crawleys.
And now he was in his cottage by the sea, lonely and despairing. She was married and he should be happy for her. But all he could think of was his loss. Even though the years had passed, the pain was still there, still very real and sharp. With a sigh, he stirred from his chair. He'd lived with the pain all these five years, he'd just have to bear it awhile longer.
He smirked as he looked down at the picture in the paper showing Lady Edith... no, Lady Hexham now, along with her husband. He hoped the mother of the groom proved to be a better mother-in-law than she had been a wife. If even half of the stories he'd heard over the years were true, poor old Charlie Pelham had been driven to an early grave by the woman.
He stood at the window and watched the birds out over the sea, wondering why he still lived. He'd been wounded in the war and might have died. In this moment he almost wished he had.
...
No, no, Katie thought, don't take him there... but where does he go from here? She sat staring at the screen, thinking. Meanwhile, Anthony was left to watch the birds.