MANY HAPPY RETURNS

A/N In this story set after 3.5 Edith is distraught to realise that Anthony's birthday is approaching. But is it a day he would prefer to forget or can they make it worth celebrating? Republished in honour of Robert Bathurst's birthday (22nd February)

Chapter 1

Edith sighed; she was tired as she had found it difficult to sleep since Sybil's death. She missed her sister because she had got on much better with Sybil than she ever had with Mary.

But that was not all that was on her mind; her first thought on waking and her last before sleeping were still of the intense blue eyes of Sir Anthony Strallan, the man she still loved desperately. Edith had forgiven him for breaking her heart long before and was mindful of the fact that her family had done little to help her come to terms with being jilted and Edith was deeply resentful for, even dead, Sybil got more attention than she did. The family culture still revolved around whether or not Mary was happy and Edith missed Anthony so much; he had treated her like a person in her own right. He had engaged her in the intellectually stimulating conversation she craved and he had called her lovely which no man ever had, no men normally looked twice at her.

Edith bitterly rebuked herself for not standing up more for what she had wanted; instead she had allowed Anthony to be swayed by her father and grandmother, Violet the dowager countess of Grantham.

Edith knew that she could have made him happy and she knew he would have made her so. She could not stop loving him and she knew because she had tried so hard to do just that. She would have been happy to help him; she would have been a valet as well as a wife. She would have enjoyed undressing him and she would have been more than happy to share his bed. The trouble was that they had had precious little time alone together before the near wedding; time in which they could really have talked about expectations and how to get around their issues. For Edith his injured arm had never been an issue. He was a dear sweet intelligent and very handsome man but his self esteem was fragile.

Tears trickled down Edith's face; pretty soon her body was shaking with convulsively violent sobbing. She didn't know why she was sobbing because no one ever cared to come to her if they heard and she knew she was in for waking up once more in another lonely grey dawn without him by her side and her face and pillow wet with hot useless tears. She caught herself wondering if he had cried since that day. She knew that she could never love anyone else while Anthony Strallan still drew breath.

Violet was passing when she heard her granddaughter sobbing. Pratt the chauffeur was sick with flu so Violet had agreed to spend the night at Downton rather than get him to rise from his sickbed to return her to the Dower house. She tapped lightly on the door but Edith did not hear the knock above her tears.

.Violet crept quietly into the room and sat on her granddaughter's bed.

"Edith dear, whatever is wrong?" Violet asked gently.

Edith turned to face her grandmother; her face flushed red.

"What do you care?" Edith snapped; Violet drew back shocked by the vehemence of her tone.

"I care about Sybil and what happened to her."

"I'm not crying for Sybil, Granny. She would have hated us crying over her; she would have wanted us and Tom to get on as best we could without her."

"I suspect you are right about that, Edith, Sybil never was one for tears and gloom."

"Please leave Granny; I really don't want to talk to you. I have been left to cry and cope alone with what I'm crying about since it happened; or didn't happen in this case. I just have to live with it and I don't want an audience for my broken heart."

Violet sighed audibly as she often had whenever Strallan's name was spoken or implied.

"You have to do your best Edith dear."

"That is easy for you to say; you who virtually gave him carte blanche to walk out on what should have been the happiest day of my life. None of you ever cared to even ask if I was alright or even how I felt about him; had Mary wanted to marry him then his age and injury would suddenly not have been problems because Mary always gets what she wants and I never do; I'm second best. Even Sybil gets more consideration than me and she's dead," Edith looked at her grandmother," Granny I love Anthony Strallan and I always have; I don't care that he's older than me or even that he's injured. He's paid me more attention than any I ever got here, he cares about what I think and feel and he even noticed what I wore. He made me feel alive and we talked about so many things and shared so many views and interests. You and Papa never wanted that for me but surely you want me to be happy and the only way I would ever be happy would be as his wife. I took care of men during the war who were injured far more seriously. Papa never fought in the war but Anthony did so surely he deserves respect for risking his life not contempt for his injury. Now I will never see him again, never look into those lovely blue eyes of his, never hear his voice and because of that I am dying inside. People say broken hearts heal but even if I never see him again I will still love him until I take my final breath. You and Papa may have successfully stopped me marrying him but you will never stop me from loving him. Never, now please leave me alone as I want to cry for the man I love in peace."

Violet did not even try to defend her actions or those of her son, Edith's father, but the words stung like a slap in the face. Edith was right; what consideration had been shown for her feelings. She quietly slipped from the room; hanging her head in shame.