Summary: Bates finds something Anna did not intend for him to see and misunderstands why she has it. SPOILERS for S5E2
Disclaimer: I do not own Downton Abbey or these characters. If I did, well... let's be honest. You'd probably be as upset with me as with Fellowes.
A/N: Just a short post S5E2 story. Reviews are always appreciated.
She found him in their bedroom, just sitting on the edge of the bed. He stared into space, not looking at her as she entered the room and walked over to the wardrobe. In the past, she'd had trouble changing in front of him, but over the past two years they'd made great strides in repairing their relationship. Every once in a while Anna still fell victim to a panic attack from a dream or a flashback, but what had happened to her that terrible night no longer ruled her life.
As she glanced over at her husband, Anna noticed he held a book in his hand. And while seeing a volume in his possession was not unusual as he often brought one up with him to read, he seemed out of sorts. Not only had he not moved or spoken since she'd entered the room, he still sat in his regular clothes and had not begun changing for bed.
"Are you all right?" she asked him.
When he did not answer, did not even look in her direction, Anna's alarm grew. She studied him closely, attempting to make out what could be wrong.
He'd set his cane to the side, and his expression showed no pain, so she dismissed the possibility that his knee was playing up again. Unfortunately, his face was nearly unreadable and showed few clues as to his distress beyond the fact that something was clearly amiss. Anna's attention shifted to the book in his hand and as she made out the familiar, slim tome, the source of his reaction suddenly fell into place.
He was holding the book Mary had given her, the one she'd hidden away in a basket of mending until she could return it to her employer. And by the expression she now recognized as utter devastation on his face, he'd misinterpreted what he'd found.
Bates chose that moment to speak, although he did not look at her. "You could have just told me you did not want children."
A hundred emotions filled his words, slowing his cadence as he struggled to keep from swallowing whole syllables. He sounded on the verge of tears.
Anna struggled to find the best response, to select the proper words which would explain what he'd found without implicating Mary or sounding like a liar's hastily planned excuses. At the same time, she felt saddened that he did not trust her, that he could believe she would go behind his back in such a manner when they'd worked so hard over the past two years to reestablish a marital life and the intimacy which had been so violently stolen from them both.
"You know I'd do anything to have your child," she reminded him, thinking back to the hundred Sundays she had spent in church, playing for nothing else beyond her husband's continued freedom from prison.
Please God, keep him safe from harm. And let me give him a child.
And she had pushed herself, even more than her husband had wanted, for them to be together again. He tried to ease her back into it, to slowly and selflessly immerse her in physical love and affectionate distraction. But she hated seeing the pain in his eyes when she grimaced at his touch. She despised herself and her mind and body for having such reactions to the most kind and gentle man she'd ever known. Over time, she learned to control such responses, to hold in her fear and keep him from seeing too much of it.
And gradually, over time, it got better - for both of them. Anna had to learn to love what had once come to her so naturally, but she did love it again all the same. And she felt stronger now, more sure of her own body and desires.
"Then why this?"
His tone betrayed heartbreak, the kind she'd inflicted on him in the weeks of silent avoidance after her attack, and Anna swallowed against the lump rising in her throat. The last thing she had ever intended was to cause her husband pain again.
She knew if she told him the truth that it would eliminate the need for deception and hurt feelings, but she had been given the errand from Lady Mary in the strictest confidence. The book and the reason behind it was a lady's maid's secret if ever there was one, and Anna could not betray her employer, not even to her husband. As a valet, she knew he would someday understand the reason behind her silence if not the exact circumstances.
"It isn't mine," she told him simply. Bates shook his head in disbelief, and Anna frowned at how trite her defense sounded. She added softly, "I would never do that to you."
"You would never do what exactly?" he asked, finally looking at her. His eyes were sad, almost haunted.
She answered without hesitation, "Deny you a child. If I have the ability to give you one."
When he first spoke of them beginning a family, Anna never thought she could endure such happiness. As a young girl, she did not dream of a husband and a magical life with a home full of children. Rather, she knew she would spend her life in service, hopefully in a good house with fair employers. Even as she watched older housemaids leave Downton to get married, she knew that life could never be hers. She had no wish to be a farmer's wife, not when she was used to taking care of the daughters of an Earl.
But then she'd met Mr. Bates. And her employment no longer mattered. Where she lived or what she did no longer mattered. After enduring the separation caused by his wife, followed by his unjust imprisonment, Anna understood better than any woman what she could live with and live without.
She needed her husband, needed them to be together. She needed him like she needed air or water or sustenance. But beyond that need, Anna learned that his life mattered even more to her. She could sacrifice being with him to ensure his health, his safety. She'd proved that to herself, after the attack, when she'd moved back into the house. She could even cause him pain, something she never thought herself capable of, to protect her husband. But for any other reason, hurting him felt so incredibly wrong and vile...
"Do you want children?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Anna closed her eyes for a moment, unwilling to think too much on that question in his presence. Her desire for a baby, for his baby, did not lend well to rational thought or even speaking aloud without her voice cracking with emotion. She managed a tight nod in response, her lips pressed together as she blinked rapidly.
"...because I would never ask you..."
Bates broke off, unable to complete his statement. Anna moved towards him, hating the space and the silence and secrets that separated them. As she stepped closer, he reached out and captured her hand in his. First, she took the book from his hand and set it aside. Then she reached out to squeeze his fingers in return, a silent acknowledgment of what she knew he could not put into words.
"I know. And there is no reason for you to ask for something I would gladly give you - willingly... joyfully..."
She leaned down to kiss him, and as she did so, he pulled her onto his lap, taking her weight on his good knee as he disengaged her hands to wrap his arms around her waist. Relishing the warmth and closeness, Anna relaxed against him, breathing in his familiar scent.
Sighing deeply, Bates asked, "Where did you get the book?"
"I can't tell you," she explained, feeling miserable for keeping the truth from him. "I won't lie to you, and I don't want us to have secrets. However, I still can't tell you."
"But it isn't yours?"
She shook her head even as she answered, "No, it isn't mine. I swear that to you."
He nodded thoughtfully, and she wondered if he had worked out the source of the book without her revealing it.
"And if you ever decided that you wanted to stop trying for... to stop trying," he said, his voice cracking, "you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"
"I'm not ready to stop trying. And even if I was, that would be a conversation for us both, not just me."
She could not unilaterally decide to end her husband's only chance at children, not when her body had failed thus far to make him the amazing father she knew he could be. Anna had head from Lady Mary that in such cases it was usually a defect in the woman, not the man. There were sometimes treatments, but they did not have the same resources as the Crawley family to seek out a specialist.
"And you know I'd do anything to make you happy," she stated simply, knowing how much grief he'd weathered for her sake in the nearly two years since her attack.
"You are all I need to be happy," Bates responded. Before Anna could respond, he leaned in to kiss her, silencing any further discussion on the topic. One hand reached up to gently encircle the back of her neck, his fingers sliding through the shorter hairs at the base.
Anna melted into him as their lips met, her body suddenly awash with desire. Somehow, he still had this effect on her, despite everything they had been through. One touch, one kiss, and she was a woman lost to the most base and perfect passion.
Recalling the woman at the chemist's suggestion of abstinence, Anna felt renewed indignation at the thought of a woman having to give up loving her husband to keep them from having another child. Such a requirement hardly seemed fair even if Anna wanted nothing more than the baby so many other women might be seeking to avoid.
"I love you," she whispered when they broke apart from the kiss, her hands sliding down his jacket to find the buttons. While she did not have the experience of a valet, she was trained at taking off other people's clothes.
"We don't have to-"
Anna silenced him with another kiss as she set about proving to him exactly how eager she was to work on expanding their family. And even if she did not become pregnant, touching her husband was an undeniable pleasurable she had no wish to give up ever again.