She had known that something was wrong. Yesterday, at the luncheon at Eryholme, he had seemed distant, and any mention of the upcoming nuptials seemed to make him start. She had always known that his ridiculous excuses would resurface at some point. At one point he seemed to delight in reminding her of their age difference, not to mention the many references to himself as a "cripple."
She would have thought that her father, not to mention her grandmother, had the cutting comments department covered without his help, but so often his demons reared their ugly heads and made him doubt everything - not least their relationship.
She lay in bed pondering the problem as the early-morning sunlight crept through the window. This would be her last morning waking in her own bed at Downton, she realised. Tomorrow she would awake at Locksley, with her husband beside her. As long as his doubts didn't get the better of him.
She needed to see him, she realised with sudden clarity. She needed to look into his eyes, before the ceremony, and make him see that this was the best possible thing for them, and that it was what she truly wanted.
Happier now that she had a plan, she slipped out of bed and dressed quickly bypassing her wedding gown that hung, already pressed, from the wardrobe awaiting her. A beautiful sheath of ivory satin, and that gorgeous cape and train.
Not that she wanted to be petty, especially today, but she couldn't help thinking again how much nicer her dress was, than Mary's had been. All those months of planning and fittings, and asking every conceivable person their opinion had resulted, in Edith's eyes at least, something that resembled an extraordinarily over-priced lace nightgown rather than a dress to spend the happiest day of one's life in.
Perhaps there were perks to having a much smaller affair than her sister's. In barely a month she had organised everything with very little help, even from her mother, who seemed to be less enchanted by the idea of planning a second wedding.
But that was for later. At least the reign of corsets had ended with the war and she could dress herself without the help of a maid when necessary.
Opening the door to her bedroom she was glad that she was correct in her assumption that it was far too early for any of the family to be up. She could hear the servants moving about but, hopefully, she could be out and back again before anyone realised where she had gone.
Moving downstairs she caught one of the hall-boys, asked him to get Jenkins to bring one of the cars around, and left a message that she had gone out for some fresh air, in case anyone should ask for her. Surely no-one would begrudge the bride a few moments of solitude before the chaos of the wedding began.
She drove quickly along the empty country lanes. Anthony was certainly not sugar-coating the truth when he said she was a speed-fiend. It seemed the only time she felt truly free was when she was whizzing along the Yorkshire roads, hair flying and fully in control of the motor. No-one telling her what to do or where to go.
Perhaps he had a point though, she realised, as she arrived at the driveway to Locksley in barely ten minutes.
She was fully aware that turning up on the doorstep of one's fiancé in the early morning a mere matter of hours before the ceremony was due to take place was hardly customary but, fortunately for her, Anthony's butler could almost rival Carson for his lack of reaction.
He politely showed her into the breakfast room to wait and went to fetch his master. She wandered over to the window, which looked out on Locksley's gardens. She loved this view. The idea that all she surveyed would…could … no should all be hers.
Now that she was here she began to doubt the sense of her actions. As far as ways to persuade a potentially doubting fiancé to go through with the wedding, perhaps turning up like a lunatic at his house before he had even had a chance to dress was not the most mature of decisions.
Still, she was here. She needed to see it through. And, incidentally, persuade him to do likewise.
'Edith.' His voice startled her from behind.
He just stood there waiting for her to speak. She suddenly felt foolish again.
She took a deep breath and began. 'Anthony, I just needed to see you before we meet at the church. To make sure that..' she faltered. 'To know that …well…that we are…'
'Edith, I quite understand.' He had obviously decided to come to her rescue.
'It's quite alright, and much better for you to say so now. I will happily tell your parents, there need be no awkwardness or qualms on your part.'
She started out of the haze of confusion that had begun as she floundered with her words. 'What on earth are you saying Anthony?,' she demanded.
A look of genuine puzzlement crossed his face. 'Simply that I quite understand why you would want to call the wedding off, my darling. And please don't worry – we can sort it out without your parents being too angry. It's far better to do it now, however last-minute it may be, than to regret it after the fact.'
'STOP!' The ferocity of her exclamation startled even her cutting him off mid-sentence. 'That sort of nonsense is exactly why I wanted to see you before it all happens. To stop you thinking of all those stupid excuses again, and letting your doubts ruin all chance of happiness for us both. I mean what I say when I tell you that I love you. I always have, and just because you and my family seem intent on ruining that, and refusing to believe me, it doesn't make it any less true.'
They both fell silent as her words seemed to finally sink in.
'My darling, are you truly sure you won't wake up in ten years' time and wonder why you're tied to this crippled old codger?' he pressed gently.
'Quite sure, for the final time. Unless you continue to talk such nonsense.'
She finally managed to win a wry smile from him. 'Very well then. But might I suggest you return home now? I would hate to have to explain to your father why you are here this early in the morning!'