Mr. and Mrs. Pelham of London
Embrace it
This is my AU story. Keep in mind all I know about the Civil Service I learned from Yes, Minster and Yes, Prime Minister so... it's going to be pretty fanciful. It was just a job I thought Bertie could work through the depression and still make decent money.
Evelyn had be extremely glad to hire Bertie on Henry's recommendation. Well, not just Henry's recommendation. Evelyn's supervisor's brother had been Bertie's commanding officer in the careers. The Brigadier had been so effusive in his recommendation, Evelyn had felt quite lucky to not be working for Mr. Pelham by the time the offer had been extended.
Bertie had been very excited to tell Edith. She'd accepted his proposal when she believed she was going to be buried in the Northumberland and raising her child with him on a land agent's pay. He felt relieved this wouldn't be the case. He'd actually be doing very well at this job- moneywise and she'd get to spend more time at the magazine. And for the time being they could live at her flat. This prospect didn't exactly thrill him, being her inheritance from her late lover and father of Marigold but he had some ideas that would make it better.
And besides, he could be magnanimous about Gregson. He was alive and Edith's lover and after the paperwork went through, he'd also be Marigold's father. If the price was living in the man's tastefully decorated flat, well, he did have a plan.
"Hello, Miss Edmonds, is Lady Edith in?" He asked, popping his head in, not seeing Audrey.
"She's out trousseau shopping with her mother and Aunt Rosamund," Laura grinned, crushing out her cigarette, "Only 3 weeks to the big day!"
Bertie nodded, happily, "I know. But it can't come soon enough! My cousin Peter's flying in from Tangiers tomorrow. I am going to pay dearly for dragging back him into this freezing cold."
"A best man job isn't all roses and stag nights." Laura teased.
"Given that in lieu of a stag night I plan to take him back to Brancaster to parade him before the tenants for Christmas..." Bertie shook his head, "He may be well authorized to shoot me. Thank goodness he won't be able to do that unless I unpack his gun and actually load it for him." Laura laughed.
"Darling," Edith beamed coming through the door, and giving him a kiss, "This is nice!"
"I thought you were out with your mother and aunt," he embraced her.
"I was meant to be, but Mama had to take the train back to York this morning. Something with the hospital. It was too cold to go from shop to shop, so Rosamund and I just went to one place and then chucked the rest of the plan." She snuggled in, "My, Peter is going to be so delighted to be returning for the cold snap."
Peter wasn't happy to be returning to England whatever the weather. He'd recovered from his bought of Malaria, but he'd never been a robust fellow... Now he just felt wrung out. But Bertie was like his little brother and going back for his wedding was the very least he could do. More than a brother really. He'd never judged him at all. He just accepted him. No lordly brother would have done so much for him and been so good about it. Witness him managing Brancaster since the death of the last Marquess. No Lord So & So would have done that for him, or been capable of doing it so well. And now Bertie was leaving him.
Bertie hadn't even told his bride that secret because he hadn't definitely secured a position in the private sector or civil service (and he lacked Peter's confidence in him), but Peter had contacted his mother's cousin to make an additional recommendation for the civil service. Not that it had even been necessary. His cousin apparently had many glowing references from his army career and the contacts he'd made as a land agent.
Brancaster was going to suffer without her favorite son that was certain, but Bertie deserved all the assistance Peter could give him. He just wished he could give him the whole lot of it. God knows Bertie would bring the whole Marquess thing off better. He was a countryman. He looked good in tweed for God's sake. He didn't catch cold every time he slept in that drafty castle. And to top it off, he'd managed to convince the daughter of an earl to marry him. On a land agent's salary!
Either Lady Edith was a very special person or Bertie was bit more of a charming bastard than his cousin gave him credit for.
Peter glanced and the folded newspapers sticking out of his briefcase. The London papers said there was a record cold snap in the north country. Bertie was going to drag him back to Brancaster to celebrate Christmas with the tenants, as was right, good and lordly. But every organ in his body still ached from his ordeal, adding bitter cold to the equation would help nothing. Each glance in the mirror told him that his blood... what blood? He was a walking container of clotted cream. He might just drop dead and the marquisate could be his wedding present to the happy couple and his Christmas present to the county.
He mustn't think like that. Bertie would be upset if he dropped dead. He'd have to survive.
Edith had elected to make dinner in her flat for her fiancé that night rather than go out. Mrs. Patmore and Daisy had been giving her cooking lessons much to Mary's eye rolling scorn and continuing japes about Bertie domesticating her. Edith had gleefully ignored her sister. She'd always wanted to learn to cook, this had been quite fun and exciting. Mrs. Hughes was so sweet to join in some of the lessons so she wouldn't feel self-conscious. Cousin Isobel and Lord Mertyon also were kind enough to let her prepare dinner for them once a week so she could practice and were always very effusive in their praise.
As was Bertie, full of praise and Edith might have detected a hint of relief that his high born bride was embracing the concept of modern, middle class life in such a practical way. But as she was very proud of herself, she might have been projecting.
"I still want to get up to see the cottage before Marigold and I move in," Edith said busily from the stove. "Perhaps I'll go up when you go up with Peter."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Bertie said, he paused and waited until she wouldn't burn herself, "What if we were to move to London after the wedding instead?"
Edith frowned and turned from the stove, "What are you talking about?" This seemed new territory.
"I've been offered a position with the Civil Service." He said, suddenly thinking he should have discussed this with her first.
"What position?" She took what she'd been cooking off the heat and then turned off the stovetop. "A position in the service isn't really spur of the moment."
"I'll be working in Evelyn Napier's department."
"Land management," she mused, relaxing a bit, "That's a good position for you... but is this what you want?" Edith looked up at him, doubtfully.
"I want us to have a good life. This will be best for our family," he reassured her, "You can do the work you love and I will actually make enough money to support a family with people in it."
"But it you love Brancaster," Edith wrapped her arms around him, "and what about Peter?"
"He knows. He even made sure I had a glowing recommendation," Bertie assured her, "he also knows I was never supposed to be working at Brancaster forever. My God, if you ask my mother, this is the job I was supposed to have straight out of the army. We still get to visit Brancaster, it is still my home in a way."
Edith groaned, "I really wanted Peter to like me... now I am taking you away from him."
"You aren't. I promise, Peter will love you. He's very reasonable. He only whinged over the phone for a quarter hour or so. I've already started lining up possible replacements," Bertie kissed her reassuringly.
"None as good as you," Edith said, ruefully.
"No, but I was severely over-qualified," he laughed, "It'll be interesting for me... having a job that's bit of a challenge. I mean more so than organizing shooting parties for bankers who can't shoot."
"Will we live here?" Edith asked, she knew the flat might not be his first choice.
"I thought we could," Bertie said, "I also thought we might purchase the flat above to make it more of a family home. I looked into the flat below, but it got snapped up. I've spoken to an agent, we can get it."
Edith smiled at this, "I like the idea of the one above! It's only a three room, but it has a full bath, it would give us a proper nursery and bedrooms for the children when they get older! It has attic access so we could do a skylight, perhaps," She bit her lip, "Bertie, this is only okay If you are really want this and aren't doing this just to make me happy..."
"I am very happy to join the world of people with suitable careers," he kissed her fully, "but I do like making you happy, so everything I am doing is toward that goal," another kiss, "don't act like you are any better. Learning to cook is adorable and completely unexpected. My mother doesn't know how to cook."
Edith laughed, "A woman makes one concession towards economy and everyone thinks she's embraced martyrdom. I still want a cleaning lady a couple of times a week and to send the laundry out, just like you have now."
"That's really all?" Bertie asked, "You are coming from a houseful of servants. We could afford to have someone live in... I mean now we absolutely can."
"No! Maybe after we have a baby, well get a nurse or something, but it's going to be divine not living in a house with a bunch of people. Just you, me and Marigold. That's all I want. That's why I love my flat. I get to pick my own wine irrespective of its pairing with my food, I listen to the wireless at breakfast, have supper at 6pm when I have Marigold down with me so we can eat together...I get to do it all without Carson, Mary or Granny giving me the evil eye."
"So... chaos?" Bertie asked.
"Oh, yes," Edith responded, smiling, "Embrace it."