It had been one of the worst days of his life.

He had been so sure. And so happy. He'd arrived fairly early at the Garden Party, early enough to show he was keen, not so early as to make him look desperate. Edith was nowhere to be found. Instead, Lady Mary had approached him.

"She may have been cornered. I know there was some old bore she was trying to dodge."

His first response was oh, poor Edith! But I'll soon rescue her! Followed by stunned incomprehension and shock.

"He's simply ghastly apparently, but he's promised to propose today. I can't tell you how funny she was when she acted it out. She ought to go on the stage."

Like a sledgehammer between the eyes, he realised that Lady Mary was talking about him, although she obviously didn't know it. Edith had been talking about him. To her family. She had called him a 'ghastly old bore'.

He just about managed to keep up appearances, smiling weakly at Lady Mary's joking praise of her sister's acting abilities, though it felt like a knife in his guts.

Despite running for his car, he hadn't been able to escape without Edith finding him. That was the worst of it. To look at her, so young, so lovely, and so duplicitous! To know that it was all a bit of fun for her. He just had to get away.

"Please make my excuses to your mother."


.

He was aware that he was driving too fast. But he had to get home to the safety of Locksley. With the car parked in the garage, he entered by the front door to find Stewart shocked at his arrival so soon.

"Sir?"

"I'll be in the Library, Stewart." He headed off, then turned back quickly. "I'm not at home to anyone, anyone at all. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

The Library door slammed shut for the first time in years.

.

Finally, in the privacy and safety of his Library retreat, he collapsed onto his chair and wept.

.

The phone had rung. He thought it was probably Lady Grantham enquiring after his health. It wasn't. It was his old Colonel from the Intelligence Corps. He made the decision there and then, not really thinking straight, just wanting a distraction, just wanting the pain to go away.

It was only then that he truly realised what had happened.

He had fallen in love.

When he had courted Maud, his father had made it plain to him: it was a case of finding a wife that he could tolerate, and who could tolerate him. In the end, Anthony had been lucky: he and Maud actually liked each other, and had grown into an affectionate companionship.

That was what it had felt like with Edith…to begin with. He wasn't really looking for a wife (despite Cora's machinations). He had just found that Edith and he…would do well together, he thought. It felt natural, and fun, to be with her. And yet Lady Mary's revelations had caused him far more pain, much more than if that had been the total extent of his feelings. It was precisely because he had lost her that he realised how much she meant to him. She had touched his soul.

Then she had telephoned.

Stewart had answered and came to fetch him from where he was sorting papers at his desk.

"Stewart, tell her…tell her absolutely nothing. She can't be trusted."

Stewart stared at him, shocked, but did as he was told. Sir Anthony had listened to the entire conversation, directing the butler's every response.

Afterwards he stared out over the orchards, thinking that that was, most likely, the last time he would ever hear her voice.

She had actually sounded upset.

It echoed in his heart, as he packed the last of the documents that he would need.

The bed felt empty and cold. He didn't sleep much.

Next morning, he took the studio portrait Edith had given him and which lived on his bedside table and packed it as well. He wasn't quite sure why he did that, but he didn't take it out again. Then he threw himself into arrangements for Locksley while he was away.


.

The station was humming with tension. There were other men in uniform, for that he was grateful. As usual, he didn't want to stand out. He wasn't quite sure what he should say to Stewart either. He knew that the man wanted to re-enlist himself, although Anthony had convinced him to stay on a little longer to make sure Locksley was being well cared for before he went. He had even joked with the butler that it would all be over before Stewart could sign up again, knowing that neither of them believed it.

Should he have tried to speak to Edith, if only to lay the ghosts? He pursed his lips at the sharp stab that thought caused.

He saw movement out of the corner of one eye, someone approaching him.

It was her. He stood frozen to the spot, wondering if he were seeing things.

Edith walked right up to him.

"Sir Anthony, I was sorry you were called away from the Garden Party yesterday. This is such a dreadful business."

She was demure and serious. But she was always that speaking of serious subjects.

"Yes, quite." He wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words.

She came closer, lowering her voice.

"I wanted to explain…about my sister, Mary. She and I…well, we don't always get on as sisters should. I have wounded her, I admit, and yesterday, I believe she took her revenge out on you. But I deeply regret any hurt she, or I, may have caused you. That was not my intention, truly."

"Really?" Was this the truth, or another fabrication? Which sister was true, which sister false?

"Anthony" she whispered close to him, his breath stopping, "you are the world to me. Please, for God's sake, come back safely! Even if you hate me, come back! I don't have time to explain, so" she thrust a letter into his leather-gloved hand "please, please read this. I love you so. God bless you, and keep you safe!"

She turned away from him. He panicked, don't go!

He removed his glove and reached up to her cheek to stop her.

"You love me?" he breathed, his voice broken.

"Yes" she shrugged.

"Oh, Edith! I love you too. I love you so desperately! Dear God, I've made such a mess of this."

"Just come home. Please. Come home to me."

"Nothing in the world could stop me, not now I know you do care for me" he said, and he really meant it.

He pulled her to him, and kissed her. He kissed her not as he had wanted to up until yesterday…gently and affectionately, but as he had wanted to since he had thought that she didn't care for him and never had…passionately and with every last shred of love in his heart.

The Station Master blew his whistle; he reluctantly released her, and climbed into the carriage, taking his kit bag from Stewart as the train started moving again.

He watched her until the train station disappeared out of sight.


.

Much later that afternoon Anthony found himself in a smart room in the War Office. As the Colonel explained to him what was wanted from the Corps in the first few weeks of the conflict, he suddenly stopped talking.

"Major?"

"Sir?"

"You were miles away. I know this is a worry for all of us, but let's get back into the habit of being attentive during briefings, mm?"

"Sorry Sir."

The Colonel sat down

"Anthony, I know you as well as anyone. What is it?"

"I'm forty. Am I really up to this sort of stuff, do you think? When we were trying to butter up Kaiser Bill, well, that was one thing, but would I not be putting other officers in danger if I'm not quick enough in the field?"

"You look in pretty darn good nick to me. Is that really it?" The Colonel narrowed his eyes. Anthony sighed.

"Do you know the Crawleys…the Earl of Grantham's family?"

"Not at all. Why?"

"I think I'm engaged to the middle daughter."

"You…think…you're engaged?!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"As of this afternoon. We…had a misunderstanding yesterday, and she came to the train station to see me off, and…" Anthony blushed as he trailed off.

"Look, you're one of my most experienced officers. If you put in an application to stay here in London and direct operations, I would approve it. I'll even promote you to Lieutenant-Colonel right now, if it helps. As you say, you're forty. No one would blame you."

"No one…except myself."

"Noblesse oblige?"

"Yes…but also every man feels like this. Every man has something to live for, something they have to leave behind to serve King and Country. I'm no different. If I'm more use over there, send me over there."

The Colonel looked regretful.

"I'm afraid you would be. I'm sorry Anthony."