Chapter 3:

Bertie extended his hand to Edith at the breakfast table and smiled triumphantly at her.

"Ready, darling?"

Edith returned the gesture by beaming at him and taking his hand as she stood.

"Where are you going?" Mrs. Pelham asked as she looked at the two of them get up from the table

"I am taking Edith on a tour of the grounds, mother. I'm going to show her the village, and the lake and I've arranged for a mid-morning coffee to be brought out to us at 11 at the table by the water."

Bertie noticed his mother looked less than pleased to hear this, and he didn't care to find out why. He was starting to realize that new boundaries would have to be established in their relationship, mostly to make sure there was ample room for Edith.

"Will you be gone all day?" She asked.

"No. I've arranged for luncheon to be pushed to 1:30pm this afternoon and we will rejoin you at that time."

Mrs. Pelham shifted her gaze from Bertie, to Edith and then back to Bertie, but opted to say nothing.

Bertie proceeded to lead Edith out of the room, but she turned around and quickly said "I hope you have a lovely morning, Mrs. Pelham".

Bertie watched his mother smile tightly and respond. "You as well."

They walked hand in hand toward the front door where they were greeted by two footmen who handed them their hats, and they set out toward the gardens.

Once they were a short distance away from the house, Edith slipped her hand back into Bertie's who felt overjoyed that she was taking the lead on little things like that. He noticed that she was quite adeptly keeping quiet and allowing him to navigate and direct the conversations with his mother, but he knew Edith was far from submissive and he loved watching her take charge in various aspects of her life. Whether it was in running her magazine, or laughing freely with her father or brother in law, or even in taking steps with him in their relationship, Edith's strength was remarkable and, he had to admit, an unbelievably attractive quality in her.

"So where are we off to first, Bertie?"

He smiled back at her, and said "I thought we'd start in the south gardens. There are some lovely lilacs this season and some hydrangeas, which, as I recall, you are quite fond of." He smiled slyly, raising one eyebrow at her.

"I am! What an impressive memory you have."

Bertie smiled triumphantly and looked back down to the ground, at first he didn't notice that Edith hadn't taken her eyes off him.

"How are you, Bertie? Are you feeling alright with how everything is going thus far?"

Bertie looked at her and smiled widely. "Yes, my darling. I'm so happy. I'm excited for your parents' arrival this afternoon, to spend the weekend with you here, in our future home, and for the dinner on Monday to tell the world that you are mine. And I am yours."

Edith kept smiling but said nothing. So Bertie continued, adopting a more serious approach.

"I assume you were likely referring to my mother. And I hope you are not worrying about her or that in any respect. She's never been a particularly warm person. And I didn't expect her to be any different this time. I don't think she'll ever admit it, but I suspect she's afraid of, for lack of a better turn of phrase, losing me. For the longest time, it's been just the two of us. And so our upcoming marriage will affect the daily machinations of her life as well. Perhaps moreso than the recent change in my financial circumstances has affected her."

"How did she take the news of your new title and wealth?"

Bertie took a breath and replied "Remarkably well, in fact! She transitioned into the castle and the role of running a household of this grandeur with remarkable ease. However, with that being said, she's not the type of woman to ever let it be known if she felt flummoxed or overwhelmed. She made a concerted effort to keep me from the tasks that she felt she ought to manage independently, which I suspect was a manner of protecting me so I could focus on the larger duties associated with the role of Marquess of Hexham."

"That was very kind of her. Very supportive. Your mother clearly loves you very much." Edith said, and she gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Indeed. But I do wish sometimes she would let go a little. Not to say she is inappropriate or crosses any boundaries, or even that I don't appreciate what she does for me, because I certainly do. I only mean that I think she is so accustomed to feeling she must protect me, that she still takes steps that I no longer truly need her to take on my behalf."

"Aah, yes. I suppose that's the job of mothers, though, isn't it? To hold on for just long enough to be absolutely sure your children don't need you anymore ….and then to hold on a little longer still!"

Bertie laughed, and shifted their hands so he could thread his fingers through hers.

"And for her particularly. You may not realize, but I didn't grow up with this kind of lifestyle accessible to me. My father was not a wealthy man, we were by no means destitute, but the three of us lived in a small house that was a fraction of the size of this, or Downton. We did not ever truly struggle, per se. I'm not so foolish as to think I belonged to the class of the downtrodden, but money was something to which we did have to pay attention."

Edith nodded and listened patiently. Bertie continued: "I suspect my mother was also acutely attuned to the significance of our standing because I was so close with Peter. Peter lived here.." He gestured behind him to the castle. "His father was the reigning Marquess, and he and his two sisters were always clad in the best clothes, brought to grand events, and had access to the best toys and instructors, and their childhoods were decorated with every opportunity a parent could want for a child. They were always very generous with me, not simply as a distant relative, but because of the closeness of our families, I suspect. My father and Peter's father were great friends and constant companions, and Peter and I were thick as thieves as children. His two sisters and I also got on quite nicely but they both married very young and moved across the country. But I was a frequent visitor here, and always treated like I was one of them. But - always at the end of every visit, I went home to our much more modest house."

"When I reflect back on my childhood, my mother did an excellent job in ensuring I was brought up with the kind of values that matter most. I never felt envy for the wealth that Peter had, but instead was taught to value the familial bond I had with both my parents and the tremendous sense of accomplishment that comes with earning something."

Edith smiled proudly at him.

"I think she worked hard, harder than perhaps I realized at the time; to make my childhood feel full and complete, and never truly wanting for anything."

"What a lovely way to talk about your mother. It sounds like you were very fortunate to have her as a parent." Edith replied as she reached over and touched his arm with her other free hand.

"My father as well. He was a very engaged parent. I suspect conscientious of the fact that I had no siblings, he wanted to ensure I learned how to balance social engagement with the value that can be found in occasional bouts of solitude." Bertie stopped talking for a moment and looked contemplative as he looked down at the ground. Edith waited to see if he was going to speak about his father more, but he seemed to be lost in a thought.

"Do you miss him terribly? If I recall correctly, he passed away about three years ago?"

Bertie looked at her, surprised. He remembered mentioning his father's death to her once, in passing. However, that was on the day they met, almost a year and a half earlier. He smiled at her in a way to try and convey how touched he was that she not only remembered, but also had paid attention in the first place.

"Actually, it was almost four years ago now. And yes, sometimes I do. My father was a great parent who, as I grew up, evolved into a wonderful friend and companion. I was very lucky in him…in both of my parents. I count my blessings in both of them regularly."

"That's lovely to hear, Bertie. It's wonderful to hear someone talk so positively about their parents and their childhood. And how they approached raising you on your own. Such a rarity that you were an only child, though."

"I don't believe that part was planned. My mother was pregnant twice more after I was born, that I know about. One was a stillborn boy, and one a miscarriage. I suspect after those two events, she stopped trying to increase the size of our family."

"That must have been very hard for her, and your father…. and you."

"Yes, I can only imagine what that must have been like for my parents…" Bertie took in a big breath and turned to face Edith more directly. "And I suspect that this accounts for why my mother is the way she is sometimes, particularly with respect to her relationship to me. I know that when I first stepped into the role of Marquess, she wanted to protect me, not only from stress, but also from the gossip that might follow when someone from such modest means takes on such a grand title. She wanted to ensure that my path was as easy as possible. I mean what I said earlier, Edith. I do hope you aren't worrying about this. I know she'll like you and that you two will get on well. But even if that isn't necessarily evident, or immediate, don't ever doubt for a moment, that I am completely and unequivocally committed to you."

Edith beamed with pleasure. She stopped walking and faced him. She looked like she was contemplating a thought, but then instead slipped her arms around his neck and held him close to her. He responded in kind and wrapped his arms around her back. After a moment, she pulled away and was still smiling at him.

She slipped her hand back into his and fell into step once more.

"Tell me something else." Edith said.

Bertie turned and looked at her with a quizzical brow: "Something else? What do you mean?"

Edith had a knowing look on her face. "Tell me anything. Anything else. I love hearing you talk about your life. We have spent so much of the last few days talking about me. I want to hear more about whatever you want to tell me about."

Bertie looked at her and laughed.

"Hmm. I wonder what to tell you …. Would you like to hear about the first girl I ever kissed?" Bertie asked, smiling, with one eyebrow raised as he looked at her through the corners of his eyes.

"I would love to hear about that!" Edith replied, grinning widely.

Bertie laughed heartily "Really? I have thousands of other stories I could tell you."

Edith grabbed his arm and leaned into him "And I want to hear all of them, including stories about what a teenaged Bertie was like, and the first girl who captured your heart, and your fancy. And I want to hear what you liked in school, about your friends, and colleagues. Your time in the army. Your favourite places here at Brancaster, and where you've travelled. Who and what has impacted your life most, I could go on and on. Tell me everything."

Bertie laughed and beamed at her. And he started, he told her about Emilia, the first girl he fancied in school, and their kiss behind the schoolhouse. He told her story after story as they talked for hours while they wandered around Brancaster village, the grounds, the lake and eventually made their way back up to the house for luncheon.