Atonement
This story imagines that Violet DID die of Influenza in series 4, but before she dies she seeks Isobel's help to make amends to both Edith and Anthony. Although the episode where Violet was ill did not take place at Christmas I thought I would set it then anyway.
I apologise for my long absence from the Andith fandom but DI Frank Lyle needed me.
Author note: I am sure this story will never happen in canon, primarily because Violet has an aversion to admitting she was wrong, but the psychology of imminent death often forces individuals to evaluate regrets from their lives so I am very much playing on that in this story.
One Fluttering Wings
Isobel Crawley was exhausted. For two long nights now she had kept vigil beside the Dowager's bed. She was under no illusions that Violet would be remotely grateful, but Isobel was just as stubborn as the dowager on occasions and this happened to be just one of those times.
Violet's fever had broken that afternoon, but owing to her age, Dr Clarkson came every hour on the hour. Violet was cold and clammy. Right now she was sleeping.
"You really ought to get some rest, Mrs Crawley," Clarkson said, "You won't be any good to anyone if you don't. It will lower your immunity and make you more likely to get influenza yourself," he placed a hand on her shoulder and Isobel shivered pleasantly. He lowered his voice. "The Angel of death is still fluttering his wings over Lady Grantham's head at present."
"No, I want to see this through," Isobel said stubbornly.
"I'll bring you some strong tea."
He left the room.
It was the week before Christmas and everywhere else people were getting ready for the occasion. The huge tree had been erected in the hallway at Downton and looked magnificent even when the lights were off. Isobel tried to forget that this would be their first Christmas without Matthew. No one had mentioned it, but Isobel knew that everyone was thinking it nonetheless.
But Isobel's thoughts went beyond her late son. She thought about Lady Edith. She knew that Edith was worried about her sweetheart, Michael Gregson, who was still missing in Germany. It would be a worrying time, but, as usual, Edith was left to cope with things more or less alone. The Earl and Countess of Grantham were, as usual, wrapped up in Mary and Isobel wished that sometimes they would remember they had two surviving daughters, not one.
Violet murmured in her sleep and Isobel hastened close in case she wanted anything.
But Violet slept on and Isobel relaxed. She could hear Violet's slow steady breathing.
Suddenly Violet jerked away and tried to sit up, but she was much weakened and struggled. Isobel assisted her to sit and Violet croaked her thanks and asked for water. Isobel held a cup to her lips so she could drink.
"You needn't lie to me cousin Isobel, I know I'm for the off. I heard Dr Clarkson's comment about the angel of death fluttering his wings above my head and I can feel them,"
"Don't be so melodramatic," Isobel chided, "The fever was the most dangerous part and that's broken now,"
"Listen to me, Isobel. I need your help. Before I die I need to make amends to two people in love. I have done a lot of thinking in recent months, since we were in Scotland in fact, and that Gregson chap is not good enough for Edith. After all, he has simply abandoned her without a bye or leave."
Isobel wasn't sure what exactly Violet was trying to say, but resolved to listen.
"I'll help if I can, Lady Grantham," she said.
"The person I am thinking of abandoned her too, but with good cause, at least in his mind. What he did he did in love of Edith. I know we were all rather glad at the time, but looking back..."
"You and cousin Robert were glad," Isobel corrected, "I was rather sorry for them and as usual Edith was left to cope alone."
"Let's not split hairs," Violet said, "Whatever the case it did not happen, but Edith is once again suffering. I don't think it likely Mr Gregson will come back either, he's done his part,"
Violet had no intention of telling Isobel about Edith's condition, but Isobel instinctively knew anyway.
"Basically, what you're saying is you need someone to come and help make her respectable and clean up the mess." Isobel said.
"Perhaps Sir Anthony Strallan can clean up his own mess as well as Gregson's." Violet said.
Isobel was sure Violet was not thinking clearly. Maybe fear of death was clouding her mind and judgement, but Isobel appreciated the sentiment although she was certain Violet had absolutely no comprehension of what she was asking emotionally. She had already worked out what Violet expected of her and it would be no simple task.
