A/N: Though this is set during the S5 CS, I never intended for this to be speculation in any way (and now that spoilers and a trailer have come out, it's quite clear that it bears probably no resemblance to what's in store, sigh). Really, this is just the version of things that I would like to imagine, so I thought why not write it out? Hopefully you'll find it enjoyable.
Timeline wise, I know the on-screen time is rather vague, but I'm working on the premise that 5.8 took place during late July.
I don't own Downton Abbey, as I don't have amnesia and an extreme sense of the absurd.
A Christmas to Remember
John watched his wife as she half-sat, half-lay on the worn settee in their small sitting room, the lamps still giving off a steady glow, bathing her in light. Though the smile didn't reach his lips he felt it stoking like a fire inside of him as he gazed at her so reverently, fascinated by the regularity of her breathing and indeed everything about her.
With a woollen shawl spread over her shoulders to ward off the rest of the chill in the room he could not help but be reminded of the time so many years ago when, sick in love as he already was for her, he had dared to venture to the women's quarters to bring her a tray of food as she was confined to her room. Looking at her now, her elaborate bun come slightly loose from where her head rested and her porcelain skin slightly flushed, John thought she appeared exactly the same as she had then. Of course there was no question that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon, but as she dozed, completely oblivious to everything except the safe shelter of her dreams, she gave off a certain quality that always was and always would be her very essence. Not only was she so exalted above him, but she appeared so young and untouched. Innocence defined.
Shards of tears prickled at his eyes, threatening to cascade down his cheeks. He no longer had reason to cry, his heart no longer heavily burdened as it had been for what felt like long and damned eternities.
She was back home, back where she belonged. She had been back in his arms, rejoined with the place in his heart that she had never left, and both had missed her unbearably.
She was back, never to leave or be forced away again, and that was what mattered above all else.
John heaved a silent sigh of deep thankfulness that had been trapped between his two lungs for months, ever since the moment when they had taken her from him. The moment when, as he believed was the case, his world irrevocably shattered. Life had not made sense for a long time while they had found themselves embroiled in the cobbled-together investigation, shadows lurking even as they had tried their very best to remain in the light. For him, it was extinguished as he stood useless in the hall of Grantham House, the darkness claiming and consuming him as he could do nothing to save her, his precious Anna. The colour in her face had drained in the same way that he imagined the blood was draining from his veins. Lady Mary's defiant words were drowned out to be replaced by the cries and screams that were revolving in his head, and the terrified and frantic whispers he fought to hear in Anna's mind. She shook her head weakly;don't do anything stupid, don't risk yourself for me.
God knows he would do anything for her, things nobody on this earth would believe him capable of.
And yet he was completely immobilised, not only his leg that refused to function properly. It was screeching out in agony as he had placed his weight onto it unthinkingly. It didn't register with him. It was nothing compared to the torture he would face from now on. His soul torn from his body – the embodiment of his soul being led along and out of the house, out of his sight. The ache that set up residence in the centre of his chest was permanent, not giving him a second's respite or peace.
He didn't want peace. He didn't deserve it, not when he had failed her again so miserably, the worst of his failures to date. How could he have possibly promised her such things when deep down he was aware of the uncertainty that still surrounded them? It was looking at her, being lost in those eyes. That he might not see them smiling at him ever again killed him slowly as each second passed. Not a second of each long and dark day without her passed that wasn't occupied with thoughts of her; alone, afraid, calling upon her faith that God would not give her a test that she couldn't see through. She was calling out for him, and he heard her louder and clearer each time she did, wanting to answer with the promises that remained somewhere in his heart. Little by little he was falling apart, breaking into pieces. How had she remained so strong during the time he had been incarcerated? She was a pillar, a rock, a tower of gentle and immeasurably kind strength. His weakness was transparent, and it was shot through in even darker moments with his anger. Had she not been tested enough? The injustice of it blinded him, and made him weep long into the night for her, tears that she would not have wanted him to cry but those which she only deserved of him.
Somehow he carried on, though it was all he could do to drag himself from a cold bed in the morning and stand on two feet. He walked around as a shell of a man, his emptiness apparent. The kind words and sympathetic looks he received from all corners of the household were of little consequence to him. More than once his Lordship had told him to go home and get some sleep, but he waived the offer, dreading to be there on his own and knowing full well that he would not rest. He did not share Anna's instinct to keep busy in times of trouble, preferring instead to retreat further into himself. The small ember died further within him when he realised that she would be unable to comfort herself with even that prospect where she currently was.
One morning as he was conscious of the night moving seamlessly into the dawn, something shifted within him. As he saw the late summer sun begin its rise in the sky he could also see a glimmer of hope that he had imagined long forgotten. Though his anguish still made itself known with every breath he took, he knew he had to plough through, use the desperation deep within him for good. There were problems blocking the path at every turn but he would learn the lesson she taught him and strive to see the possibilities. There was no other way out of it. She had always carried the burden for everyone upon her shoulders, and he was determined that she would not have to know it for a second longer.
For her sake, to ensure her safety, he would prove his worth and his strength.
It did not prove easy, as nothing ever seemed to do with them. There was hardly a scrap of proof of Anna's apparent involvement, which meant that proof of the real culprit would be painstaking to obtain. Perhaps for the first time in his life, John was glad that he had kept some of his enemies close as they certainly proved useful. He shouldn't have been proud of some of the measures he went to, but he could not pay mind to it, not when his reason for living was at stake. Eventually, swifter than he had prepared himself for, the evidence was uncovered.
The day after two long months apart when he came to collect her from York was one of the most memorable of his life. Given the speed at which things had proceeded there had been no time to send along her clothes, so she stood in a baggy second-hand dress. All he noticed was her face, her eyes wide and taking every inch of him in, and he didn't have to wait long to discover the proof that she wasn't a mirage before him. She bundled towards him outside the cells, burrowing herself against his frame. John held her tight to him, silencing her sobs of relief in his chest, sending prayers to whatever deity existed that they had been reunited for the final time. He registered that she was slighter than before through the sack she was wearing, but his heart had swelled too much to break at that moment in time. He pressed kisses upon her hair, soon to be replicated upon her lips when they were out of that godforsaken place and travelling in the carriage of the car back to Downton.
It was over for them, finally.
He was not naive enough to believe that it would ever be over. Anna had endured too much trauma for the memories to be washed away completely without trace, but at least now he knew that it was only that, and she would never have to face the remembrance of her pain alone. That was one thing that he could promise her. Together, and without any barriers placed between them this time around, they healed. Minute by minute, day by day, they became stronger, a testament to the love that had always been the strongest force for the both of them. They were both afforded two weeks totally free of their duties when Anna came back and the time was much valued and well spent. Tears were shed but they were also shared, absolution offered as they cried together in their refuge. Anna was like his shadow, staying as close as she could. When they lay in the warmth of their bed she clung on to him, moulding her body to his. He circled his arms around her with tenderness that overpowered his need, thinking if only he could do more than merely hold her. It seemed to be more than enough comfort for her, and when they reaffirmed their love, more than just once, they both felt truly home once more.
They were both here, at home, and John could think of no greater blessing.
Her shoulders shuddered suddenly, disturbing the peace of the moment, and Anna woke with a start. John encountered a surge of anxiety rushing through him, thinking perhaps that her bad dreams had returned. She blinked slowly, her eyes still rousing from the sleep she had been in. Thankfully she seemed to be fine, remaining as serene as ever. Her hands were laced together settled on her stomach, and a small smile was on her face as she focused her gaze upon him. It made John do the same in return; he couldn't fail to respond in such a way when he was witness to that which he cherished so dearly and remembered so well. Soon enough he knew it would shine brighter, when she recovered yet more. She had come on leaps and bounds in the past months, regaining most of her spark against the odds. Anna was a born survivor, and she had taught him how to survive through the worst of it too.
She leant forward from the settee a little, reaching her hand out towards him where he stood. John's heart melted at the action that was so instinctive to her, and it was but seconds before he took it, lacing her fingers with his own.
Anna's smile grew as her husband took his place beside her, being careful to adjust his weight on the rickety settee. Yet there was no question that it had become his spot, having abandoned the armchair in favour of sitting beside her since she had returned.
"I thought I'd only closed my eyes for a bit," she mused, looking towards the buttons that were open at the collar of his shirt. "How long has it been?"
"Not that long," John chuckled softly.
He brought Anna's hand to his mouth and covered it with kisses, much as she had done to him in the months previous. She was the greatest treasure he had, and she deserved to be worshipped. John heard her soft sighs and finally let her hand drop, just so he could open his arms to her. She came close without hesitation, shuffling the short distance along and putting her head against his chest. He chortled as she shifted and burrowed, akin to a small infant animal hibernating for the winter.
"Are you comfortable there?" he asked with lightness in his tone.
"Yes, quite."
Her voice was muffled against him, one of her hands having risen to rest just below his heart. It beat steadier to know that she was there, nestled to him. Her comfort was all that he cared about. Part of him was worried that Lady Mary was issuing too much to her of late, but Anna being Anna she never complained and would be mortified if he dared to raise the concern with Lord Grantham. Lady Mary was simply pleased to have her maid and confidante back, which was a matter that could not be faulted. As much as he may have wanted to do so, Anna wouldn't thrive if he wrapped her in cotton wool. She seemed to be a little more tired recently, heading to bed with him to accompany her not long after they had got back to the cottage of a night, but he had been tired too. Given the time of year that had approached once more and all that it brought with it, it was hardly surprising.
To be quite honest, that it was nearly Christmas only occurred to him because of all of the yearly preparations that had thus far run like clockwork at the Abbey. He wished for this year to come to a conclusion as swiftly as possible, so that the worst of times that had persisted for far longer than they should have done could be left to turn to dust in the past. Yet Anna had always loved the season, if their celebrations had been somewhat muted in the recent past. For her sake he would make the effort, and even had an idea or two for how he could make the time extra special.
John gazed down at his wife, entirely snug as she continued to lay against him. He placed a kiss upon her head, smoothing his fingertips against the soft skin of her hand that remained clasped to him.
"I was thinking," he began, still turning over the options in his mind, "that we could do Christmas quietly this year. I know his Lordship has already been so gracious, but I don't see that he would refuse a little more time off to us."
As he spoke, he felt Anna began to shift. Perhaps she couldn't hear him well enough, so he spoke up a little.
"Perhaps we could even go somewhere. Enjoy a bit of peace to ourselves away from here."
He was surprised to find Anna looking at him somewhat perplexed, leaning away from him a touch though she had gone back to holding his hand, and he cradled hers carefully.
"Not have Christmas at Downton?" she exclaimed quietly, her blue eyes widening.
"Lots of other people don't," he returned gently, coaxing a smile from her. His other hand came to rest carefully on her knee, covered by the black skirt of her uniform. "I just thought it might be nice to have a change of scenery, that's all."
He paused and tried not to let his own smile falter as he stayed looking at her, recognising for the first time in weeks how pale she still appeared, though she was always remarkably beautiful.
"And I don't want to think," he could not refrain from stumbling on the words that were stuck in his throat, still wishing he could deny that all this had ever happened, "I don't want it to be too much for you."
John noticed that Anna's eyes were becoming misty the longer she looked at him, and he deeply regretted even starting the conversation.
"Not that you can't handle it, of course you can, but I know how you love the time of year, and I wouldn't want to think that you were tired, or pushing yourself too hard..."
Anna cut him off with the press of her finger to his lips, a beaming smile crossing her features.
"My darling husband," she uttered, making his heart soar. "How lucky I am that you love me so much that you want to protect me."
"Of course I do," John was quick to affirm. If he had to confess his love a thousand times a day to come anywhere near making up for his mistakes, he would do so gladly.
Anna smiled, stroking the back of her hand over his cheek.
"But there's no need, not anymore." Her voice quivered slightly, the only sign that she was paying any attention to the nightmare that had come and gone, and had now dissolved for them.
John brought his hand to cover hers, and she bowed her head for a moment at his touch.
"I don't fool myself that it's the same as it once was, but I've spent most of my Christmases at Downton, and I don't want it to be any different this year." She was confident in what she said now, and John smiled with immeasurable pride. Anna had always been the one to push forward, in her own time and at her own pace. It seemed that she was ready now. "Too much of our life has been stolen, and I won't let it happen for a moment longer. I just want it to be how I remember it."
He could never fail to be overawed by her and all the determination that she possessed once more. She had been so matter-of-fact about it, that there really was no space for his brooding.
Her smile turned a little shyer, and John found himself falling deeper in love with her, if that was even possible.
"There are a few things that I've thought of, if we have enough time to do them."
"Pray tell," John responded to her sweet intonation.
Anna straightened her back where she sat, reeling off what she had in mind. "Going to Midnight Mass, seeing the carol concert in the village...of course, we still need to get a couple of new things for here and set some time aside to decorate properly."
John smiled fondly, not especially relishing the prospect of traipsing around the shops but knowing he would do anything that Anna bid him.
"And I'd like to visit the memorial in time for William's birthday," she said more solemnly. The lad's birthday had been just a couple of days after Christmas Day, and had always been something of another small celebration amongst the servants. "I couldn't pay my respects before, but he was in my thoughts, and I'd like to now."
Even in her darkest hour, she thought of others. She truly was incredible.
"Well, it sounds like you've made quite the list," John said with a smile, putting his arm around her shoulders. "If you're sure you're up to it, I promise you that we'll get round to it all."
A sour reminder suddenly struck him, and he forced his gaze away from her, though it was a wrench.
"John?" she asked in a soft voice that did nothing to soothe his aching heart.
He turned back to her reluctantly, meeting her worried eyes. "I don't know how you can take my word for anything now."
Anna shook her head fiercely, her bottom lip starting to tremble ever so slightly.
"I won't let you blame yourself, when you couldn't very well do anything." She had told him enough times, but there was still a small part of him that had trouble believing it. Her hand was on his chest again, tracing the rhythm that sounded out beneath it. "If it wasn't for you..."
Her voice was wavering, and John did not need for her to finish to know what she meant. Instead he drew her closer to him again, cradling her carefully and hushing away the reminders. After not long at all he could feel that she had relaxed, and soon she was staring up at him again, clarity and contentment in her eyes, her arms hugging around his middle.
"Let's start as we mean to go on," she stated steadily, with a renewed smile.
John could not possibly think of a better idea to rival that.
Christmas went joyfully for Mr and Mrs Bates. They had managed to do everything that Anna had wanted, and very graciously their employers had allowed them to spend the whole of Christmas morning at the cottage, as well as making sure that they got to leave early in the evening. Though they hadn't paid a great deal of mind to presents this year, they still exchanged a few modest gifts but enjoyed the spirit of celebrating with one another most of all – it was not lost on both of them that each other was the greatest gift either could have.
On the anniversary of his birthday, the couple paid a visit to the war memorial for William's sake. Anna placed the flowers she had clipped from the garden at its foot, laying a hand upon the stone statue. John wrapped his arm around her waist as she sobbed softly, allowing a few tears of his own to fall. They stayed in a modest embrace for a while, Anna arching her neck to look up at her husband and smiling while she sniffed. For a few precious moments, it really did seem as though the lad was there with them both, and the peace and reflection was something that they both seemed to need just then.
The New Year was seen in with hope, a great deal more than there had been twelve months previous. Though both had made a private vow to live each day as fully as possible, taking nothing for granted, the advent of the year brought a renewed promise with it. John thought to himself that, for once, it would be nice not to place all faith in the unknown; to have something that could be assured. He watched with reverence as Anna closed her eyes against the cold midnight air of their small garden, having located the bright star that she would set her wish upon. Even much later as they were drifting in and out of sleep, he was not able to prize it from her.
"Mr Bates, you know very well that it won't come true if I tell you," she said with a giggle, poking a barely-felt finger at his stomach. He relented his pursuit; it was his dearest wish come true to see her smiling so joyfully once more.
The holiday did not end at Downton Abbey until the last dance had taken place at the Servants' Ball. Given that he could not do much other than stand on the sidelines and serve the occasional drink, John always met the event with quite a bit of trepidation and awkwardness, though he had felt more at ease over the years. He took his delight from Anna's involvement; she always looked forward to the ball so much and it did make his heart soar to watch her dance so carefree, always reminded of the wonderful surprise she had arranged for him on the family's trip to Scotland. Even when she danced with others, it was always him she would seek out with her gaze, and for those moments John felt that he was moving and gliding in perfect time with her. He tried not to fret too much knowing that Anna had not been herself in the few days leading up to the Ball. She was adamant that whatever it was would pass, and her disposition reassured John somewhat. He supposed it was normal that she would still have these sort of episodes, perhaps as a symptom of delayed shock or trauma, though it aggrieved him greatly that it should have been the case.
He had watched keenly as she had already danced with Lord Grantham, his master guiding Anna around the floor with the kind of care that John deeply appreciated. Her dance with Mr Aldridge had been a little more energetic, and John followed Anna's movement cautiously. She nodded graciously at Mr Aldridge as the dance finally came to an end, departing from the floor with steps that John noticed were a little wobbling. Her face was flushed and her breathing slightly laboured as she made her way back to him. John's eyes were pinned to her; she was positively breathtaking in a light blue dress, a radiant smile remaining on her face which widened as she arrived at his side.
"You were marvellous," John commented, earning a brighter smile from Anna. "We can go home in a little while, if you wish."
"Certainly not," she exclaimed towards him. She held a hand above her stomach as her breathing regulated slowly back to normal and the fierce colour lessened in her cheeks. "I'm having fun." Her smile softened in the light of his reflection. "Although, if you're not, of course we needn't stay."
"I'm happy whenever I'm near you," he replied honestly.
There was no chance that he could deny her when she was in such high spirits, and so he pushed the misgivings he had to the back of his mind as best as he could, focusing instead on the glow that was all about his wife, relishing its return so deeply.
"I'm perfectly fine," Anna told him in a hushed voice for only his ears to hear, taking his hand into hers. The skin on the back of his neck goosepimpled at her delicate touch. "If you could fetch me a glass of water, I'd be even better."
She rubbed her fingers and thumb over his hand, squeezing it softly, the gesture of affection being all that they could manage in a crowded room. John smiled down at Anna, lingering in her gaze for a few moments before he reluctantly left her.
Gripping his cane, John wasn't entirely happy that his journey down to the kitchen would take him longer than he really desired. He had to get past it, he knew, but he still hated having to desert Anna. It didn't make much sense, given that she was safe and surrounded by company that cared for her. He supposed he would never learn to stop brooding entirely.
He had never been more thankful to see Mrs Patmore entering the room, bringing a carafe of water with her. John offered a smile to the cook, angling the crystal glass out a little towards her.
"It's thirsty work," she answered his silent question. "God knows I'm parched and I've not spent five minutes here."
"It's for Anna," he clarified, watching the water fill the glass steadily. His gaze then flitted instantly to the other side of the room, seeking out his wife. He found her talking to Lady Mary, the two women sharing some laughter that he wasn't able to hear above the music.
Mrs Patmore gave him a sympathetic smile, one which he had been used to seeing in the past couple of months when the elder members of the household thought of Anna. "I don't know about water, but she could do with feeding up," she said, half jovially though John understood her concern. "I've got a fair bit of Christmas cake that's still good. I'll wrap it up so you can take it home with you."
"That's very kind of you, Mrs Patmore," John said courteously, offering the one seat that was unoccupied at the edge of the floor out to the cook.
He tapped his cane lightly against the wooden floor, unconsciously matching the rhythm of the new song that had started to play. Mr Branson had made his way over to join Anna and Lady Mary, and held his hand out towards Anna in the offer of another dance. Anna smiled as she took it, raising her other hand to her head. John was faintly troubled by the action, but it was nothing compared to what followed only seconds later. Anna had no sooner stepped onto the floor again than she disappeared from sight. John barely registered the glass tumbling from his grasp, rushing as quickly as he was able to be by his wife's side.
A pathway had been made in the room as people stood aside, shocked by what had taken place. Mr Branson had caught Anna before she could crash down and she was now lying carefully upon the floor, her head cushioned by Mr Branson's jacket which he had removed for the purpose. John did the same without a second thought, elevating Anna's dainty feet. He heard a shriek of "oh, dear God!" at his back, glancing round for a second to see Mrs Hughes holding a hand to her mouth, her face having gone white.
Anna's eyes were closed, he wasn't sure if she was conscious or not, though she looked completely peaceful. Panic held John fast in place, not caring that he was crouching upon the ground, only needing to be beside Anna to comfort her.
"Oh my love, can you hear me? I'm right here, love, it's alright," he said, almost short of breath, holding a shaking hand to Anna's forehead. She felt clammy to the touch. John willed the tears not to fall from his eyes, praying that God would not be so cruel as to take her from him again.
"Somebody telephone Doctor Clarkson at once. I insist."
Lady Mary was also kneeling upon the floor, her voice as clear and commanding as always. John raised his head for a moment and found her looking kindly towards him, moving her hand across to touch his lightly for a second or two. The gesture was one of understanding, uniting the two in utmost concern for Anna. Mrs Hughes completed the circle of Anna's nearest and dearest, bringing herself to Anna's other side, pressing a wet cloth to her forehead. If there was one thing that was for sure, it was that Anna was not short of protection, and thankfully this time it was allowed to prevail.
As the minutes passed, John only prayed that their efforts would be enough.
John sat beside Anna in the grand drawing room, holding her hand and bringing it further into his lap. She hadn't been out for long, though it felt like an eternity to him, and once they had brought her into the quieter room and settled her upon the settee she recovered quite quickly. In the first few moments after she came round John could hear that she was faintly mumbling, and it broke his heart to imagine what she might have been recalling, confused temporarily about where she was. His eyes fixed again upon her and she met his gaze in the very same second, managing a sizeable smile towards him which made him beam inside.
"I'm sorry for making you worry," she said softly, her body swaying a bit towards his. "I should have listened and let you take me back to the cottage."
"Never be sorry," John replied with tenderness. He squeezed her fingers gently, covered her small palm with both of his hands. "I married a woman who knows her own mind, and I love you for that, Anna May Bates."
She exhaled a little attempt at a laugh, smiling and linking their fingers together.
Having fussed with his briefcase for a few moments, Doctor Clarkson approached them from the other side of the room once more.
"Mrs Bates, are you at all prone to fainting or dizzy spells?"
"No, not especially," Anna answered the doctor's question, with John's watchful gaze on her. "I have been feeling rather more tired than normal lately, but I thought perhaps that was because of..."
Her words trailed off, and John gave her hand another reassuring squeeze.
"Could it be down to stress, Doctor?" John cut in before any more could be said, thinking that it was entirely reasonable. His wife's body was deceptively strong, but even it could only handle so much.
"Yes, it could be that."
Doctor Clarkson's words were rather hesitant as he turned away from them. John's mind was racing with the probabilities, and he had to tell himself to calm down. Such fretting would be no good for Anna. She looked at him again with a steadiness in her eyes, as though she could read his mind at that very second. He had no doubt that she possessed the ability to.
"Mr Bates, if you wouldn't mind I'd like to ask Mrs Bates some rather personal questions and do a small examination, just to ascertain what it most likely isn't. Of course, I would like Mrs Bates to visit the surgery in due course, but I'm sure you would both wish for your minds to be put at rest straight away."
John tensed immediately, keeping his grasp on Anna's hand. "Can you not do what is needed with me present? I'd rather not leave my wife alone when she's in such a condition."
"I am here, you know." Anna's voice piped up, causing both men to smile. She nodded her head towards the doctor. "Of course you can do what you must, Doctor Clarkson."
Surely she was able to see the alarm reflected in his eyes.
"John, it'll be fine. I'll be fine," she reassured him, letting go of his hand gently and gesturing for him to go from the room.
"It will take no longer than five minutes or so, Mr Bates," Doctor Clarkson affirmed. "You can wait outside and I'll let you know as soon as we're finished."
Giving a last look at Anna and taking heart from the relaxed smile she wore, John breathed a sigh and did as he was bid, closing the heavy door behind him.
As he readied himself for bed, John heard the doctor's words still revolving in his head. You both have reason to celebrate. I'd say Mrs Bates is around ten weeks pregnant. He looked at his reflection in the small mirror just above the sink and knew that he had never seen a bigger smile grace his face. In the past months, for much longer than that, a child with Anna was all he had dreamed of. He had wanted to make sure that he didn't hurry her before she was truly ready, but after their misunderstanding she had done nothing but reassure him that the time had come, if God would be willing to bless them. Now the dream had been made true, surviving against all the adversity they had overcome. If anything, it was the biggest sign he was able to think of that their love could withstand any trouble and only emerge yet stronger than before.
He had been too ecstatic to hear much past the wonderful news, but he did take in Doctor Clarkson saying that Anna's fainting was likely down to her having high blood pressure. It was nothing that some bed rest wouldn't solve, they were told, and the doctor even passed Anna as fit to carry on working for a little while, so long as her duties were reduced and limited to the less taxing jobs.
John came out of the washroom to find Anna in her nightgown sitting on their bed. Her hands were placed on her stomach, the fact that she was carrying their child still unnoticeable to the unknowing eye. She had braided her hair while he had been washing, it hung over one of her shoulders, and he was quite sure that he had never seen her looking so beautiful. Her head raised to look at him and the two of them shared quietly excited smiles. They had engulfed one another in embraces while they had been left alone at the big house, sealing the joyful announcement with a kiss or two and breathless exclamations. Now that it had almost sunk in and they were back in the privacy of their own home, their own bedroom where their child had been created, it made it all the more special.
He moved effortlessly towards her, cupping first her hands and then her cheeks. Anna gazed up at him lovingly, parting her lips lightly as he dipped down for the sweetest kiss they had shared. Her arms had raised to meet his own, and both of their smiles were unstoppable.
"Pregnant," John repeated the word again, as though the fact would be truer the more he kept affirming it. His cheeks hurt from grinning so much, and he knew it would only get worse in the months that would follow. "A Baby Bates."
Anna smiled at the joy that was so evident in his voice. "At long last," she said, circling his hand into hers. "God works in mysterious ways."
"I'm glad he does," John replied with a breathy laugh, hugging Anna close to him as she lifted herself onto her feet. "Lady Mary will want to know what happened to you, of course."
"I'll tell her something. I like that it's between us for now." There was a glint in the blue of Anna's eyes as she spoke. "Although I'm not sure how long I can go without saying anything."
"You'll last longer than I will, that's for sure."
Holding her hand, John furled the covers of their bed back and let Anna climb in first, already watching that she went carefully, before he joined her there. They lay on their sides facing one another, the covers pulled around them to keep out the chill of the January air. John smiled as Anna's arm braced his side and he held her in the same way as she snuggled in closer to him. He could not help from placing a tender hand over her stomach, making certain that their baby was sheltered just the same.
Even in the darkness, he could sense the tears that had started to trickle down Anna's cheek.
"Don't cry, my love," he whispered in a hush, wiping her tears away gently with his thumb.
Anna smiled, moving her head upon the pillow. "They're tears of happiness, mainly," she assured him with a gentle sigh, tracing her hand upon his. "We've both wanted it for so long but just lately I dared not to hope...I don't want to feel this way forever, I want to see things as I did before. But sometimes I can't get past thinking that something might happen to take this away."
Her voice hitched in a barely disguised sob. As heartbroken as he was for her, John was relieved beyond belief that she had chosen not to hide, that she felt strong enough to share these fears with him. In time he knew that he would get the Anna who saw the optimism and sunshine in everything back, and he was certain that the growing of their child over the coming months would help her. But just for now, he could take on the role for her. He was strong enough for the both of them, she had taught him so much over the years about the quality.
"Believe me, there are no problems," he said firmly and with the utmost love, stroking back the strands of her hair. "There are only possibilities."
She smiled at him through the dark, and decisively moved her hand to rest over his, both resting upon where their unborn baby lay sleeping.
"I realised, our baby was with us at Christmas," Anna said aloud, a true joyfulness in her tone, her other hand brushing languidly down John's side.
John grinned at the notion that was quite right. "They're the best Christmas present I've ever had."
"Mine too," Anna replied, closing her eyes softly.
They soon drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
The first snowflakes had started to fall from above before John got to the cottage. It had been an unexpectedly long day, and his leg was aching with an increased intensity, aggravated as he knew it would be from the falling temperatures. Yet he still felt as though he was walking upon the air, his pace spurred on knowing that he was so close to home and his heart keeping him light with the promise of what was awaiting him. His cane was a prop, allowing him to go steady and quite fast, and he even relished the glistening white specks as they drifted upon the air, a few settling upon the shoulders and sleeves of his coat and collecting in the brim of his hat.
He smiled to himself considering Anna's words from long ago; that it always felt so much more like Christmas when there was snow.
The warmth came to meet him immediately when he stepped inside, and he fixed the door shut quickly so that no draught would flow through into the house. John heard the laughter and soft sounds straightaway, the grin spreading across his face. He took up his cane again from where he had rested it temporarily beside the door, hardly able to contain himself. There really was no place like home, now more than ever.
Anna stood in the low light of the sitting room, talking to their little girl while she held her securely in her arms. The sight would never fail to melt John every time he saw it; she had been a natural mother from the very second that Marie was born, just as he knew she would be, and it had only made him fall deeper in love with her. John was caught by the sight of the both of them, how Anna was utterly engrossed and enamoured with their daughter. Marie made gurgling noises that turned into more urgent little yelps, her tiny body squirming as she pointed out towards him, signalling his presence to Anna. John was completely done for, thrilled every time that his daughter recognised him with such joy and bowled over by the beauty of the smile that his wife greeted him with. How lucky he was, to have the most beautiful girls in the world all to himself.
He placed his hand that almost covered her completely on Marie's back, dipping his head down to catch Anna's lips in a kiss. She giggled against his mouth as it came to a slow end.
"Your lips are cold," she exclaimed, hoisting Marie up further in her arms and making the baby laugh.
"Then I'll just have to steal some more of your warmth, won't I, Mrs Bates?"
John pressed his lips more urgently to Anna's this time, happy when she responded with as much fervour in turn. Drinking in a long gaze at his wife's smiling face afterwards, he turned a little to smooth Marie's dark hair with her wispy curls, placing a gentle kiss on the child's forehead.
"That's perfectly alright, isn't it, sweet pea?"
Marie responded with contented gurgles, and both John and Anna beamed at their little one with years of patiently saved love. She was just on five months old but they were astounded by how fast she seemed to be growing. She was an inquisitive baby, very good-natured which John claimed was Anna's doing, and clever which Anna told him was her inheritance from her father. The one thing that was certain was that she was absolutely adored by her parents, whose love for each other had grown in the light of her arrival.
"How have my angels spent their day together?" John enquired, glancing to catch the sparkle within Anna's eyes and then following Marie's as they flitted back and forth, both pairs the same shade of brilliant blue.
"Well, we had a little lie-in, and then Marie kept a watch while I baked some biscuits."
"I thought something smelt good." John inhaled the aroma that came from the kitchen, his stomach starting to growl a little. "Might we have one or two with a cup of tea?"
The feigned shock that was on Anna's face made him smirk with delight. "Mr Bates, they're for Father Christmas, not for you."
"Of course," he smiled, starting to make foolish faces to elicit more giggles from Marie, watching Anna trail her fingers over the stomach of the baby's playsuit.
"Then we finished decorating the tree," she continued with a smile, "and Marie was a great help indeed."
John patted his hand against the baby's back, taking a look at their modest but handsome tree sitting in the corner of the room. A little pile of presents sat beneath, predominately for Marie. Anna had been beside herself with excitement for weeks at the prospect of their daughter getting to open them, with their help, and in the morning the time would finally come. She wouldn't really understand what it meant for a few years, and perhaps by that time there would be another Baby Bates to share in the joy – John sincerely hoped – but it was still so special for them all the same.
"It's just a shame we can't put you on top, my love."
John put his finger to Marie's button nose, and Anna laughed at the joyful scene, letting John scoop Marie from her arms into his own. She had missed seeing him throughout the day but her greatest happiness came every single day when he returned home to them both. There was nothing that lightened her heart so much as to behold the perfect picture of father and daughter, the two people that her heart belonged to unreservedly.
"Quite the exciting day, indeed," John uttered before kissing Marie's small cheek.
"Oh, I think she would still like a story from her Pa," Anna chimed, stroking the backs of her fingers at the other side of the baby's face. "I don't think I can do the job quite as well, and she has been so very good for Mummy all day, she deserves a treat."
John looked down at Anna with a touch of loving disbelief. "You know that you can do very well. She loves the sound of your voice, and I can't say that I blame her at all."
Anna coloured a touch, John adoring the rosy glow that flooded into her cheeks. He sucked in a breath as she shuffled closer, placing her palm upon him and letting a couple of her fingers dip inside his waistcoat after she had undone the buttons holding it together.
"Perhaps I was hoping that it may be an early Christmas treat for me, too," she said with just a touch of huskiness that John was simply unable to resist. She smiled up at him, her natural innocence so striking in that moment, the mood changing in an instant but still powered by the sweetness of their love. "For both of us."
John smiled back, his eyes filling with the happiest tears. How much had changed in a year.
"You know that I can't possibly say no, Mrs Bates." He beamed towards his beautiful wife and then at their perfect daughter, who was getting a little restless. "I think we have enough time before Father Christmas makes his visit."
The three of them settled down onto the settee, Anna cradling Marie between them both as John recited something long-remembered from his own childhood, now passed down to the next generation. Every now and then he paused to take in the reactions of his wife and little girl, and to simply bask in how wonderful everything had turned out. He had learnt not to take anything for granted now, and there was so much to look forward to in this new part of their life, which hadn't come soon enough.
Just last month a sale had been made on the London house, and they had been looking into properties nearby where they could begin their own little business. Anna had urged that there was no rush; it had taken so long they may as well wait to make it perfect. But John already knew that wherever they were it would be the most perfect thing he had ever known. It would be a bit of a wrench to leave it behind, this place that had been their first home. They had welcomed Marie within these very walls, their most precious gift, and she was enjoying her first proper Christmas very happily so far. It may have been their first and last as a family here, but they both knew there would be many more happy Christmases and years to come wherever it was, near or far, where they decided to settle.
As the story came to an end, Marie yawning as Anna held her closer, John smiled at the scene before him, and also as he was sure he could perceive a faint tinkling of bells outside their window.
It had been the most memorable Christmas to date, and certainly the happiest.