I took a break from Light at the End of the Tunnel to put together this little Christmas tale. I hope you enjoy. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night ...
The village was decked out for the season with evergreen and holly adorning the shops and lamp posts. In recent years carolers had even begun to appear randomly, moving from house to house and shop to shop, filling the village with a dose of holiday cheer. For the first year in several, Edith Crawley felt the holiday spirit and bundled up her daughter, Marigold, to walk to the village and let the child experience it for herself. Still new to motherhood and her parents' acceptance of her illegitimate daughter in the house, Edith hoped the trip to the village would go without incident. The villagers didn't know the truth of Marigold's existence but only the story that had been fabricated to explain the child's presence at Downton Abbey. Still, she expected an odd look or two.
They had poked in at a couple of businesses, picking up some nuts from the grocer's and a bit of candy at the bakery, and now headed for the tiny little tea room to warm up with a cup of cocoa. Mrs. Gleason, the proprietor's wife welcomed the pair with a huge smile and beckoned Edith and Marigold to a table near the hearth. "This'll warm ya right up," she said happily as the two settled at the table. "Now what ken I git ya? Tea? Or maybe some coco and a sweet cake for the little 'un?"
"Cocoa would be nice," Edith replied with a smile "but no cake please. We've got a bit of candy for later and Marigold's dinner will be spoiled if I let her indulge in more."
"A'right then… just a jiffy," Mrs. Gleason said as she shuffled away, still smiling. As Edith watched her, she couldn't help the memories of her own childhood and her Mama bringing her here on cold winter days to warm up. Mrs. Gleason had been younger then, not so many wrinkles, and perhaps a little thinner too. But she had worn that same smile and greeted them with that same cheery attitude.
Marigold sat quietly in her chair, observing the other patrons and the activity in the room. Soon Mrs. Gleason shuffled back with a full cup of cocoa for Edith and a small demitasse cup for Marigold. "I thought the littler cup would be better for the tyke. If she needs more, I'll refill it fer her."
"Thank you, Mrs. Gleason, it is perfect. We appreciate your thoughtfulness."
Mrs. Gleason hovered for a moment and then spoke again. "I heard how you've taken the little 'un in up at the Abbey. That's kind of you, if you don't mind my sayin' so. Not many who'd do that."
Edith smiled awkwardly. "Thank you. But she needed a place to live and I had grown quite attached to her when she was with the Drewes. As I don't seem to have any prospects for my own, I thought I might help."
"Well, I think the men in your class must be balmy… not snatchin' you up, Lady Edith. Pardon me for being forward but that's what I think."
Edith chuckled. "Thank you, Mrs. Gleason. But honestly, there haven't been many that I've found that interesting either, to be fair to the men of my class, as you say. "
"Well, still and all…. " the woman stood awkwardly before taking a deep breath. "Well, best get back to it." She turned and shuffled away, leaving Edith alone with Marigold and her own thoughts of the subject of men.
She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of Marigold's gasp of delight. The little girl had turned in her chair and was pointing out the window. White flakes of snow were floating in the air, descending like magic. Edith supposed that to her daughter, it was magic. "It's snow, Marigold," she said softly as she watched the expression of awe on the child's face. Edith was so enthralled with Marigold's excitement over the snow, she didn't notice the door opening and the two new patrons who entered.
Their cocoa finished, Edith gathered Marigold in her arms and turned to leave, turning right into a gentleman who was behind her. "Pardon me…" she said as she looked up into the startled eyes of Anthony Strallan.
It was as if that one moment in time was frozen as the two stood there, eyes locked, and both too stunned to speak. It was Marigold who broke the silence between them when she reached for Anthony with a giggle.
Edith recovered first, reining her daughter in, "Marigold, stay with Mama," she said quietly as she pulled the child snuggly back into her body.
Anthony watched the motion transfixed and then blinked. "She is… your daughter?"
Edith looked up into his face and saw his haunted expression as it changed to sadness. "Yes," she replied, understanding that this encounter was hurting him.
"So… you're married then?"
Conscious of the ears that surrounded them, she spoke quietly. "No. Marigold had been taken in by one of our tenants but they couldn't afford to keep her. I had grown fond of her and decided to take charge of her. So, I've adopted her."
He looked confused as he looked at the girl, who had now decided to be shy and was peeking at him sideways as she snuggled against her mother. "She… she's a very pretty child," he finally commented.
"Yes…thank you. She's really very sweet, but quiet."
Anthony's responding smile did not reach his eyes. "I… I had hoped… " he paused and his broken expression crushing her, Edith looked past him at his companion, a very young and very pretty woman.
Anthony seemed to snap out of his despondency and glanced over his shoulder. "Please forgive my bad manners. Allow me to introduce my niece, Eleanor Chetwood."
The relationship of this girl to Anthony explained, Edith felt some of her tension ebb away. "Hello," Edith said, smiling. "Are you here visiting your uncle for long?"
The young woman glanced up at Anthony nervously. "I'm leaving today actually," she said shyly. "I stopped in for a short visit on my way north to Northumberland. I'm staying with my grandparents for the holidays while my parents visit my brother who is in Switzerland, with the Foreign Office there."
"Oh goodness, a diplomat then?"
"Not yet, a junior clerk more like it," Anthony explained. "But he is hoping for a career there."
"His uncle's influence is a help, I'm sure," Edith said. "But you know our cousin is with the Foreign Office as well. He's just back from India. He's retiring but if he might be of any further help, I'm sure he would be willing," Edith offered.
"Thank you," Eleanor said, apparently awestruck at meeting Lady Edith Crawley. "May I ask… are you … what I mean to say is, there has been a series of articles in The Sketch…"
Edith smiled and glanced up at Anthony to see him looking at her, his eyes sparkling with approval. "Yes, those are my articles. The paper is mine now, however, so I have little time for writing. There are so many other details that require my attention."
"So you are only back for the holidays then?" Anthony asked, his head leaning forward tensely.
"No, I am here most of the time with regular trips to London to look after the paper. I think it is better for Marigold to be raised here."
She saw him relax, his head pulling back into a more natural position. Although there was still some tension in his expression. "Yes, with the family," he agreed.
Marigold began to squirm. "Well, we really must go. It was very nice to meet you, Eleanor. And what a pleasant surprise, bumping into you again, Anthony," Edith said as cheerily as she could. Anthony stepped aside and Edith pushed through with Marigold, making a hasty retreat from the tea shop before the emotions that had been churning since turning to find Anthony behind her boiled over.
After he'd left her at the altar, she'd spent months trying not to think about him. Then Sybil had died and other things took over her thoughts somewhat. But thoughts of the tall gentleman still had managed to invade her quiet moments, often accompanied by sadness and more frequently, loneliness. They had shared so much, or rather she had shared with him; all of her hopes and dreams of the future which of course resembled nothing of her life today. Simply put, she had missed him as he was not only her only fiancée, but the best friend she'd ever had. Judging by his behavior in the tea shop, Anthony had missed her as well.
She let her mind's eye wander over him again, just as he was in the shop. He'd looked gaunt, much like he had just after the war. And his eyes, although still blue, were almost lifeless except for that one moment when she explained about her articles. The way he'd looked at her… she missed that so much. Suddenly her heart felt empty as she walked along the path back to Downton. Marigold wiggled in her arms and brought her back from her musings. She had no reason to feel so empty and alone, she mused; she had Marigold after all.
In the tea shop, Eleanor took in her uncle's demeanor and came to a conclusion. "I can get to the train just fine Uncle Anthony. Follow her."
"What?" he asked as he peeled his eyes from the doorway to look at his niece.
"Go after her. You still love her, don't you? And if her reaction to you was any indication, she would be glad to hear it."
"Nonsense. She's moved on, has her own life now…"
"Maybe, but not by choice I'd wager. GO after her Uncle Anthony. Just… talk to her."
"You're certain you'll be alright?"
"Yes, of course. Your man has already taken my bags to the station and my ticket is purchased. All I have to do is appear at the correct time. Now go," she said as she made a pretense of shooing him away.
He only hesitated a moment before he charged out of the shop.
Edith was almost to the gates when she heard her name. Turning, she saw Anthony's car pull to the side of the road and he climbed out, leaving his driver behind the wheel. "I… I'm glad I caught you before…" his eyes turned toward the house and she understood his trepidation.
"Shouldn't you see your niece to the train?" Edith asked quietly, not ready to open up to him.
He looked back at her, his eyes wide in an expression she recognized from him, one of negative anticipation. "I… yes, I had intended… that is to say, that was my purpose in the village. But she chastised me for letting you…" he sighed, the air leaving his body. "I tried to tell her it was no use but she insisted."
"What? What is no use and why did she insist?" He was confusing her as hope grew in her in equal magnitude.
"She insisted I talk to you. She and her mother have this notion…" he sighed again. Then looking away, his eyes scanning to horizon as if he expected to find answers in the green fields of Downton, he seemed to gather his courage. "It's just that my sister insists that walking away from you was the biggest mistake I've made in my life." He looked down at their feet and then shook his head, moving it gently back and forth as if having an inner conversation with himself. Finally he looked back up at her. "And for me, it was. But I must know… are you happy? I want so much for you to be happy."
Edith looked at him squarely, studied his pale face, his haunted eyes, and his mouth that seemed to always want to smile except for now. Briefly a thought fluttered through her mind that Anthony was intended to smile often, it must have been the case since his mouth was so perfectly formed for it. But then her mind returned to his question. She looked at little Marigold in her arms and then back at him.
"She's mine, you know; really mine. And I love her. And I thought I loved her father, although I really can't remember anymore. But I do love him for giving her to me, although it has been difficult. He left his estate to me when he died and that included the paper and I enjoy managing that usually. So, I suppose I have nothing to be unhappy about, other than I can't claim Marigold as my very own. But if you are speaking of the kind of happiness I anticipated with you, then … no." Looking away from his stricken face, she finished with, "I'm not certain that kind of happiness even exists anymore. I know it wasn't intended to exist for me." Finally finished with her answer, she looked around miserably, not daring to look at him.
She felt the change in his demeanor; where he had been nervous and apprehensive, his sadness was now palpable. "I'm sorry," he whispered desperately. "I hoped…"
"I know; I knew why you did it when you did it. I pushed you into something you didn't feel right about and I have no one but myself to blame. It's just that… you felt so right to me, so… perfect."
She felt his left hand tentatively on her chin as he turned her head to look at him. There was such grief in his expression, and such longing too. "I wanted it too," he said softly. "I wanted the happiness you anticipated; I wanted it for you and for my own sake. Perhaps if I hadn't listened to Mary that day, before the war… perhaps we might have been alright. But the war did things to me, destroyed my confidence and made me weak. When I was with you, I felt… well in one sense, almost whole again but in another, more crippled than ever. "
She said nothing; she couldn't. How does one respond to that? His tormented blue eyes drank her in one more time and then he started to turn to leave. Without thinking, her hand reached for him, turning him back to her. "Please don't…"
His look of confusion questioned her even before he asked, "don't what?"
"Don't leave me again. If you do, it will be the third time and… the last, I fear. I told you that I can't remember if I loved Marigold's father but you haven't ask me if I can remember loving you."
His eyes sharpened. "Edith…"
"And I do," she said quickly before he could say anything else. "I do remember loving you, our rides in the car and our talks, sharing our thoughts on literature and farm equipment and so much else. I remember you encouraging me to write and that's what held me together after you left me. I remember how I felt when I was with you, how you made me feel beautiful and… cherished. I remember it because I still feel it, even now. I love you Anthony; I suppose I always will."
She watched as the muscles in his jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, digesting what she said. "You… love me … even after I… I…"
"Yes, even after that. And in an odd sort of way, because of it."
"What?" he asked, completely perplexed.
"You loved me enough to let me go even though it would cause you unhappiness. I know that it destroyed you socially and I also know that you were lonely and enjoyed our times together as much as I did."
"I loved you," he whispered heavily. Then looking into her eyes, he seemed to drown. "I still do… so very much."
"You do?" she asked hopefully.
"God forgive me, yes. I… I have missed you Edith, in every way possible, I have missed you. I've been lost since that day. Seeing you today… it… it has truly been a gift."
"Then why are we both so miserable? Gifts are supposed to make one happy."
He opened his mouth to reply but faltered. "I… " he shook his head negatively. "I shouldn't have followed you," he said flatly.
"Oh that's where you are wrong, very, very wrong. I'm glad you followed me. I think I hoped you would."
Anthony glanced back at his car and then at Edith before his eyes moved to the house looming behind her. "Are you expected now?"
"Expected? Oh, you mean in the house… no, not especially. They know I took Marigold to the village."
"Might we… go for a ride?" his expression was so expectant she knew there was no way she could deny him.
"I'd love to…"
They spent the next hour together in the back of Anthony's car with Marigold nestled between them as they rode around the country roads that surrounded Downton. Edith told Anthony about her work at The Sketch and he acknowledged that he'd followed her articles with interest, which led to a discussion of each one. Anthony supplied his opinions freely, sometimes disagreeing with her point of view but warmly assuring her that she had written the articles beautifully none the less.
Snuggled in the warmth between her mother and the tall man, Marigold drifted off to sleep feeling safe and secure. Anthony glanced down as her little head fell against his right arm and smiled. Edith worried that Marigold had hurt him but he seemed alright, relaxed, and even… well, younger than when she'd turned into him in the tea room such a short time ago.
Finally the road led them back to the gates of Downton. Edith looked toward the house and sighed. Then turning to Anthony, she smiled. "I… I don't want to go in," she said, her voice heavy with melancholy.
Anthony smiled back at her, not his nervous, crooked smile but his full genuine one. "I don't want…" he glanced away uneasily.
"What?" Edith asked as she reached for his arm to draw him back to her.
His head whipped around, his eyes glittering. "I don't want to let you..." he confessed.
Her heart, the one she thought was long dead except for that part that was Marigold's, leapt in her chest. "You don't?"
His head moved side to side as he said "no, I don't."
Smiling tentatively, she stared at him. "Then don't let me," she finally managed, certain that her own eyes were now glistening as well.
He looked so frightened as he sat there gaping at her that she wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him it would be alright. But she knew he had to do this on his own; no more pushing from her.
"I don't…" he shook his head in defeat and looked away.
"You don't what?" Her heart tumbled in her chest; he wasn't going to make it.
"I…" he looked down at his feet and she saw his fingers on his left hand twitching nervously. "I don't suppose you and Marigold would like to …"
Edith wanted to drag it out of him but she held back, reminding herself that if he didn't make this move on his own, history would likely be repeated.
"I thought perhaps tea at Locksley?"
She watched his jaw muscles work again as she waited for him to look up at her but he didn't. He was too afraid of her answer, she realized.
"That sounds brilliant," she said confidently.
His shocked expression almost made her laugh. His head shot up and his eyes fixed on her forcefully. "But why?"
"Think about it, Anthony. Think about everything we said today. Of course I would like tea at Locksley, with you."
When they arrived at Locksley, Anthony led her into the library where she settled Marigold on the couch as the child continued to nap. Edith crossed the room and sat in one of the arm chairs. It was a relief when nthony settled in the chair closest to her. In the past, whenever he wanted to hold her off he'd sat across the room.
A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth but Anthony didn't allow it to bloom. "Edith, I… I don't want you to be hurt again and I certainly don't want to be the author of that pain. I thought we could agree to leave things at friendship."
"No, I feel so many things for you that are beyond friendship."
"Edith… please…" He hung his head, the weight of her words seeming to crush him.
She scooted down to the floor and kneeled in front of him, her hands on his knees as she bent to try to see his face. "Anthony, I love you. I have loved you for such a long time. I don't want to see you hurt either and I see it in your face. If…if you don't believe, and I mean really don't believe you could be happy with me, that we could be happy together, then say so and I'll walk away. But I won't agree. I know we could be happy, so very happy."
He covered her right hand with his left one and slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I don't see how we could, Edith. I'm…"
"I don't want to hear how you are too old or a cripple; we've been through that before and it doesn't change how I feel!" she declared.
"No, not that exactly … except I don' t think you realize what they took from me… the Germans."
"Then tell me."
He shook his head, "no, I can't."
Edith came to a conclusion in that instant. With her free hand, she reached up and stoked the side of his face. His eyes closed and he stilled momentarily before leaning his face into her hand. He needed this, she realized.
Her hand stopped but didn't move from his jaw as she leaned up and touched her lips to his, capturing them in a slow but very deep kiss. Anthony gasped as she backed away, "Edith…oh, my sweet…" he breathed.
"Anthony, I want more than friendship from you. I don't care if we ever marry or not, I just need you. I'm not giving you up, please don't leave me again."
The blue of his eyes seemed to intensify as he stared at her, gawked at her really. "I … oh Edith, I don't understand how you could be satisfied with an old codger like me; I just don't."
She stood instantly. "Why not? " She felt a touch of anger and it must have come through in her words because he seemed to recoil. Realizing she needed to calm down, she tried again. "Honestly Anthony, I've told you how I feel about you. What else is there to understand? And why do we have to understand it anyway? I love you and I want you, only you. I don't feel the need to understand why; I simply want to revel in it."
"But you don't know what you'd be taking on," he countered.
"Then show me, Anthony. And once you've shown me if I still want you, then you will accept it, alright?"
She could see the fear that her challenge stirred in him. "You…" his eyes closed in defeat. "Alright then, if you insist; if it will make you see reason, I will show you…some of it." His hand went to his tie and began to work it loose. Edith watched enthralled as the man she'd had fantasies about for over ten years began to divest himself of his jacket, tie, and began working at the buttons on his shirt. She fought the urge to help him with the buttons, recognizing that her interference would further embarrass him.
Finally the buttons were free and his shirt hung open, revealing his vest underneath. Carefully he worked his right sleeve off his arm and began to tug at the vest to pull it up to reveal his shoulder. Her eyes moved from his hand to his face and her heart clinched at the shame she saw there. "Anthony…"
"You wanted me to show you," he replied affronted.
Deciding that she needed to get this over with before the humiliation destroyed him, she turned her attention to his shoulder. It was an ugly mess of scaring and destroyed flesh. The bone was pronounced as the muscle and flesh around it had been ruined. Gingerly, she reached out and ran her finger along the line of a surgical incision. "That's where they tried to save it," he murmured darkly.
Her eyes shifted from his shoulder back to his face. "Do you really believe this changes anything? Because it doesn't."
Anthony flinched. "You love me because of my injury; yes, I remember."
"No, that's not it at all. I… I said it all wrong that night. Yes, part of why I love you is that you were willing to fight in the war when you had every reason to stay here where you'd be safe. Part is that you worked so hard at being independent, not letting anyone help when it would have been so much easier for you. Of course I'd rather you were whole, that this," she motioned at his shoulder with her hand, "never happened. But it did happen and you've managed it bravely. You're a gentle man, Anthony; a gentle soul. War and fighting wouldn't appeal to you as it did to so many others; but you went anyway. And I love you for that too."
He looked trapped, she thought. She watched as his adam's apple bobbed but he didn't open his mouth to speak. His eyes were a picture of misery as he let out a long breath. With a shrug of his left shoulder, he twisted to capture his shirt and the hem of his vest rose up, exposing his abdomen. Edith gasped as she saw another scar, a long, jagged one with puckered flesh.
Anthony turned back to her, panicked. He followed the line of her gaze and realized what she had seen. Quickly he pulled the vest down as a curse escaped under his breath. "I didn't want you to see that," he confessed.
Still shaken by it, she looked up at him. "But why… I mean, what happened?"
Hurriedly he managed his shirt and buttoned enough buttons to close it. Foregoing the tie, he motioned for her to sit. He settled again in the chair next to her. "You've heard of the medieval custom of drawing and quartering?"
Confused, all she could do was nod that she had.
"After the Germans captured me, they wanted information. At first they tried using my wounded shoulder as a means to my cooperation and when that didn't work, they tried other means. Their final effort was a threat to do that to me…" His eyes settled on something at his feet and he began to tremble.
Edith was horrified. Reaching over, she covered his hand with her own. "Oh Anthony… "
"They… they tied me to a table and… and one of them took his bayonet … touched it to my belly. I … I can still feel the cold metal against me at times." He was shaking quite a lot now. "They asked me again for the information, but you see… I couldn't tell them anything. I didn't know. But they didn't believe me. So after awhile, he started to cut me." He stood and started to pace. "I told them I didn't know… over and over I told them."
"What stopped them?"
"A shell landed near the building we were in. One of our units was attacking and they left me there to join the battle. That's how I was found, tied to the table, bleeding from the cuts, and scared witless that the Germans would return. When our boys came in, I began to scream. The doctors said I screamed and screamed until finally one of them hit me hard enough to knock me out. They didn't have any other way to sedate me and they needed to get me bandaged up for transport to a medical unit." He paused, his breathing labored. "That wasn't all they did, Edith. There are scars on my back from where they whipped me, like an animal."
"You said they took something from you…"
"They took… my dignity, my self respect, my confidence… almost my soul. I had only been home from the hospital a short time when your grandmother asked me to tea that day…the day I saw you again."
"So, you were still healing?"
"I am even now… still healing. It wasn't the medical hospital I was in but an asylum. I was there with some shell shocked patients and a few that had simply lost their minds in the trenches. When I saw you that afternoon at Lady Grantham's, it was… well, frightening but in spite of that I felt… almost alive again. And your insistence on …" he hesitated, searching for the right word.
"Pursuing you," she offered.
His smile was small but it was there. "Yes, I suppose that's what it was, wasn't it? I did try to deter you, you know."
"And I didn't allow it. I'm sorry Anthony, I should have listened more carefully, paid more attention to why you were trying to push me away. I really wasn't very fair to you."
"On the contrary, you gave me back some of what I had lost. But I couldn't… I mean, you would have tired of me quickly… of my dependence."
"But you weren't… aren't dependent."
"I was. Don't you see Edith, I wasn't able to stand on my own; not really. You gave me back some of my self worth but I was growing dependent on you to bolster it. I couldn't let that happen. And then there's… well, my body. You deserve someone whole, someone who isn't a patchwork of scars and proud flesh, someone who can hold you and love you properly."
Edith crossed to where he'd stopped pacing. "Take me upstairs, Anthony. Show me the rest of your scars. And after you've shown me, hold me… and love me. I don't care if it what you consider properly, I just want you to hold me and love me."
The shock in his bright blue eyes almost made her chuckle. "Edith, I can't do that!"
"Why not? Are you afraid of taking my virtue? Because if you are, I'll remind you that I have no virtue to lose."
His face broke into a patchwork of regret and admonishment. "Don't say that; you… you may have lost your innocence but you have not lost your virtue."
"I'm damaged goods, Anthony. I have a child out of wedlock and I have no intention of giving her up. It is a guarded secret but sometime the truth will out; it always does. But I really don't care. I keep the secret for my family's sake, not my own."
"NO! You are not… what kind of phrase is that anyway… damaged goods, as if you are a possession? I won't listen to that kind of talk. You are still so very lovely, Edith."
"And you are the only man who has ever said that to me; that I'm lovely," she said dolefully.
Anthony stared at her in disbelief. She glared back at him, defying him to contradict her. After a moment or two, his eyes lost their focus and he took a step toward her. "I… I would want to adopt your little Marigold," he said softly.
"Adopt her? But why?"
"She deserves… a whole family, one with a Mama and a Papa, don't you think?"
Afraid to believe what she thought he was saying, she was suddenly the one trembling. "What are you saying Anthony?"
"We could leave tomorrow evening, be married in London, and on the boat across the channel by Boxing Day." His eyes were clear, sharp with his intent.
"Yes, oh yes…that would be… fantastic," she said as she threw her arms around him. "Oh Anthony, this will be the best Christmas ever."
He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around her in response to her capture of him. "Yes, possibly so. But I will strive to make every Christmas wonderful for you; every Christmas and every other day…"
As she backed out of their hug, she looked into his face and saw that years seemed to be falling away, lines that seemed deep now seemed less, and in place of worry and foreboding was a smile and anticipation. "You're not going to run away again, are you?" she asked timidly.
On Christmas morning, the Crawley family gathered around the tree. All were there save two. "Where's Edith?" Tom asked as he realized she wasn't present. Cora looked at her husband. "Didn't she come down for breakfast?" Robert shook his head, "no. I haven't seen her this morning."
Just then Anna Bates was walking through the hall. "Anna, would you go up and check on Lady Edith please, "Mary called to her.
Anna returned a few minutes later, an envelope in her hand. "I found this on her mantle," Anna explained as she handed it to Lady Grantham. "I also looked in the nursery. Marigold isn't there."
Cora opened the envelope hurriedly as all eyes watched. Her gasp worried them all until a small smile creased her lips. "What is it?" Robert asked curiously.
"She's eloped," Cora exclaimed.
"Eloped? With whom?" Mary asked, her tone dripping with doubt.
Cora looked around the group with trepidation, not for herself but for her daughter. "Sir Anthony Strallan."
"What!" a chorus sounded.
Looking back at the note, Cora began to read. "Dear Mama and Papa," she glanced at her Robert and smiled. "I'm sorry as I'm certain I am upsetting your morning but I could think of no other way; not after the last time. Anthony and I are eloping. We met up again and talked about what happened between us and what has happened since. He knows my story and I now know his. Please be happy for me, for us. This really is what I want. Anthony will adopt Marigold and we will be a complete family, something she deserves. Don't worry, I know what I am doing; we both do. I love you all and I will explain when we return in a month's time…"
As Cora was reading the note, Edith and Anthony were sharing their wedding breakfast with Marigold. A few hours later, as Marigold napped in her cot, Edith lay entangled with her new husband, his left hand absently stroking her hair in the bliss that had followed their love making. She began to giggle as a stray thought meandered through her mind.
"What is it my sweet? What's funny?"
She looked up into his twinkling blue eyes and smiled. "I was just thinking how you were so worried about not being whole. Seems like there was nothing broken about you just now, nothing at all…"
"Yes, well… I told the little bugger that despite all that has happened to us, one must soldier on…"
Edith burst into a full laugh. "Oh really?"
"No, not really. Truth is, the little fellow sprang to life the moment you stood in my library and told me to take you upstairs and hold you and love you. Little bugger was quite willing actually."
"Mmmm," she said as she reached down to pet his "little bugger." She began to giggle as she looked up at Anthony again. "Still is apparently," she teased.
"You were right, you know."
"I was? About what?"
"This is the very best Christmas ever. Happy Christmas, my sweet one."
"And a Merry Christmas to you my darling," she said as she tugged at him. "And I think we should be very merry…" Anthony's moan of capitulation sounded through the room as Edith brought his little soldier to full attention again.
And their Christmas was merry indeed.