A/N: I am overcome by the response to this story. Understanding the reactions of readers is integral to any writing like this, and I appreciate your thoughts and reviews. I know it is a painful alternative for these characters, but this is genuinely what I envisioned would happen on the show. Please continue to let me know what you think!


They walked together down to the cottage that evening after Bates finished dressing Lord Grantham for bed. The case with her clothing was surprisingly light, and he wondered if she'd packed anything besides spare uniforms when she moved into the house. Noticing that the black dress she wore seemed to hang a bit loose on her body, he also wondered if she'd lost weight.

Anna walked straight-backed and stiff beside him, her eyes remaining focused on the moonlit path to the cottage. They'd passed this way many times in the darkness and each could probably follow the route blindfolded, but she kept her gaze ahead of her. He, on the other hand, could not help but sneak looks at her every few seconds.

Bates felt the growing need to reach out and touch her. Sometimes when she did not walk with her hand tucked into his arm he would rest his fingers gently on the small of her back, just as a reminder of his presence and to reassure himself of hers. But her case in his free hand made such a motion impossible.

Besides, he did not wish to see her flinch from him again. Each time she reacted so, it broke his already wounded heart. If she loved him as she said, why would she react in such a way?

He'd been angry at first, after her admission. So very angry. For days, he'd avoided her and raged himself into a brooding mess, but he could not bring himself to direct his anger at Anna. Despite what she'd admitted to him, he simply could not hate her. Every time he tried to think of her in another man's arms, to rile up the indignation and hurt inside of himself, all he saw was her haunted face and tear-filled eyes. Her regret could not be more complete - of that, he was certain.

But without an outlet, his anger channeled through him in an unending loop, building at odd moments until he felt he might explode. So he directed it inward, at himself and his own failings.

She's young and beautiful. Of course she'd want more. And of course she'd torture herself for giving in to those feelings.

Bates thought of the valet, Green. She'd all but admitted he was the man she'd been with, and circumstances confirmed it. He'd shown an interest in Anna the entire time he'd been at Downton, and the change in her behavior coincided with the valet's departure. Green was lively and fun, a younger man than he without the limitations Bates faced. His body was whole, unblemished by war. He had not the stigma of felon and murderer, words which Bates sometimes still heard whispered behind his back when he went to Ripon on an errand.

How could he blame Anna for wanting more than he could ever offer?

Bates had faulted Vera for her own unfaithfulness, but now he wondered. Perhaps he simply was not enough. If Anna of all women could not keep the vows she'd made to him before God, then truly, the fault must be with him.

She'd offered to leave him.

Perhaps that's what she wants?

His dark thoughts accompanied him into the cottage and up the stairs to the bedroom where he took her case. Anna followed several steps behind him. As he set her bag down on the floor, he risked another look at her.

She appeared nervous, her mouth drawn into a tight line as she unwound her arms from her midsection. Bates wondered suddenly if he was condemning her to a life of misery in asking her to return to the cottage with him, to their home. She looked not only sad but slightly frightened.

Surely, she was not scared of him? Bates swallowed dryly. He could not conceive of a situation in which he would ever physically harm Anna - not knowingly. Even the most painful of betrayals could not warrant violence against her.

"I should hang up my things," she commented, and he stepped back from the case so she could get to it without coming too close to him.

"Anna..." he began, not really knowing how to begin.

A sickening silence filled the space between them as she waited for him to speak. Finally, she offered softly, "If you'd prefer, I can sleep downstairs."

The couch was small and narrow, too small even for her tiny frame. But he could see the shadows in her eyes and wondered if she suggested it out of hope that he would not want to share a bed with her.

"Is that what you wish?" he asked.

"My wishes don't matter," she answered quickly, unable to look at him. "I'd sleep in the garden if you asked it."

The very suggestion felt like a slap in the face.

"You think so little of me?" Bates demanded, his voice growing hoarse with restrained anger. Not at her - never at her - but at himself for bringing her so low.

Anna's eyes raised up to meet his. "That's not what I meant. Only... I think few men would welcome a cheating wife back into the marital home so easily. And I think I have a long way to go to regain your trust."

His heart wrenched at her words. "I still don't understand-" he began, but she turned away from him, the sudden movement ending his question.

As he regarded Anna in profile, her posture so perfect that it looked like it hurt to stand so straight, Bates wondered if she truly wanted to be here. Perhaps she had fallen in love with Green - an instant, undeniable love - and his absence over the past weeks had been the source of her misery?

And she's only here because of the vows she made to me. Or she's afraid. She told Mrs. Hughes that she knew what I would do...

"Anna," he addressed her quietly, "I would never make you stay with me, not against your will. If I can't make you happy... if you wish to leave me, I won't force you to stay."

Her expression of forced calm crumpled almost instantly. Grimacing from some inner pain, Anna put a hand up to her cover her mouth as she began to quietly sob. The tears seemed to pull from deep within her as they racked her body with waves of unseen force.

The need to comfort her was almost overwhelming, but Bates forced himself to hang back. What right had he to touch her now?

After crying for several moments under his uncomfortable gaze, Anna managed to quiet herself down to a few sniffles as she wiped away the tears with her palm.

Finally, she managed to say, with a broken voice and weak spirit, "I know you wouldn't. You're such a good man and I don't deserve you."

Unable to continue watching her suffering while doing nothing, Bates took a step towards her. He reached out his hand to touch the side of her face as he said her name. "Anna..."

Her eyes closed suddenly like shutters slammed shut before a storm. More tears were forced out onto her cheeks as he saw her body stiffen even more. She looked ready to run, to take flight like an injured animal. And her forehead creased into a deep line, as though she were anticipating a blow.

Anna had just braced herself for a strike, Bates realized, letting his hand fall back to his side. Bile rose up in the back of his throat as he watched her stand stock still, waiting, forcing her body not to flinch away.

A second or two passed and Anna opened her eyes again. Her expression betrayed a momentary confusion, as though she had not expected to see him standing in front of her, his face awash with horror at her reaction.

Forcing the words from his lips, he stated harshly, "I love you. And I would never, ever hurt you, Anna, no matter what you've done. I swear it on my soul."

She looked away from him in embarrassment. "I know." Her voice far from normal, she quickly added, "We should get ready to go sleep."

She stepped around him back to her bag and began pulling out the clothing she'd been wearing of late at the house.

Bates simply watched her for a time, letting his eyes follow her movements as she put the lady's maid dresses away. Then she ironed his shirt for the next morning, her small hands working diligently on the task even as he undressed and readied himself for bed. When she was done laying out the next day's clothes for both of them, Anna changed in the wash room, apparently still too uncomfortable to let him see her undressed. She was gone for some time and when she returned, he could see fresh tear stains on her cheeks.

"Are you all right?" he asked her.

Gracing him with a forced smile, Anna answered cryptically, "I think I will be."

She slept beside him in their bed that night, and he was able to content himself with the sound of her steady breathing and the warmth she radiated from her side under the covers. While he had trouble falling asleep, she seemed to do so almost immediately, exhaustion overtaking her and dragging her into a deep slumber. Whatever fears she harbored were shed with consciousness.

Sometime in the night, she must have woken. He could instantly feel the tension in her, could hear her thoughts as though she'd spoken them aloud. Gently, carefully, he reached his hand out to hers. His fingers grazed across her skin and Bates waited for her to pull away from him. Despite her words of love and commitment to him, the fact that she could not bear his touch was bound to doom their marriage.

But Anna did not pull away from him. In the dark silence of their bedroom, she curled her hand into his, letting their fingers intertwine. She sighed softly before falling back asleep, the sound of her breath evening out once more. He simply listened to her for a time, letting his mind and body dwell on the contact of their hands. While he wanted nothing more than to pull her fully into his arms, this would have to be enough for now.


Anna told Mrs. Hughes about her relocation the next morning, finding the housekeeper alone in her sitting room. But as she explained matters, paying particular care to praise Mr. Bates' generosity of spirit, Mrs. Hughes' frown deepened.

"You should tell him the truth, Anna," she appealed.

The lady's maid shook her head. "This is the truth, Mrs. Hughes," she told the other woman. "This is my truth now and I must own it. My husband has forgiven me and he is prepared to put this behind us."

"And what if he goes after Mister Green?"

"I don't think he will," Anna stated. "I think I convinced him that I was as much at fault as..." She faltered. "...as the other party."

"And if Mister Green comes back to Downton?"

Anna took a breath. "We'll have to cross that bridge when we arrive at it."

"I don't think deceiving Mister Bates in this way is at all right," Mrs. Hughes fretted. "But at least it will let you be back together again."

"I have a great deal to atone for, but yes, at least we're back together," she agreed.

The housekeeper slowly shook her head, disliking the deception and Anna's willingness to accept such blame for a sin she did not commit. She wondered if in fooling Mr. Bates, the younger woman was also trying to fool herself, to deal with the trauma she had endured. But it wasn't healthy for her, surely.

The housekeeper ran into Bates a short time later.

"Anna has told me that you two are... working things out," Mrs. Hughes ventured gently. He'd seemed so distraught when he'd asked her to reveal Anna's secret that she could not help but check on him after this latest development.

"Did Anna tell you what happened?" he asked.

She paused to consider before answering. "She told me she had committed a grievous wrong against you, one it may take a long time to forgive. If you ever can."

Bates shook his head. Bitterly and with a voice full of grief, he said, "She says that, but... how can I not forgive her? I can barely conceive of her doing what she says she did. The only way I know is because of how she acted afterwards, so guilty and miserable. I can't imagine how she would ever choose to do such a thing, not when it has left her like this."

Mrs. Hughes sighed at his confusion. "I know Anna regrets what happened..." she began, not certain what she could say.

His eyes went to hers, narrowing with suspicion. "You don't sound like you find any of this very scandalous. You know more than you're saying, don't you, Mrs. Hughes?"

"I only know what Anna has told me," she responded quickly. "And she told me what she told you."

He shook his head. "What I don't understand is why. Why would she do this? She says she still loves me, but how can she...?"

The housekeeper afforded him a sympathetic expression as she attempted, "Things can happen, Mister Bates, in the heat of the moment. Things we don't mean and regret later, very much."

Bates watched her, his gaze tight and appraising. "Has she ever said anything to you," he asked, "about being... unhappy with me?"

"I'm sure she hasn't, Mister Bates."

"She says I did nothing to drive her away, but I must have done something. Or didn't do something I should have."

"It is no use playing this 'what if' game," she told him. "You will find no answers and it will only leave you miserable. If you can forgive Anna, then do so and move on with your lives. If you can't bring yourself to get over what she's done, then tell her so."

He ran his hand across his face, his expression one of utter defeat.

"I have to forgive her," Bates said. "At first I was angry, but the more I think about it, the less I feel as though she's done me a wrong. I know what she's said, but I don't believe it, not in my heart. I know what betrayal feels like, and this isn't it."

He took a shaky breath. "But even if she has been unfaithful to me, even then... I can't live without her, Mrs. Hughes. She offered to leave me, to go away..."

Mrs. Hughes held her breath waiting for him to go on.

Sighing painfully, he admitted, "I think I'd forgive her anything, anything at all, just to keep her in my life."

"Then it sounds like you have your answer," she suggested.

"I just... I worry that this is a symptom of a greater problem," Bates stated. "What if this happened because deep down, she regrets marrying me? She seems so unhappy. And if she prefers this other man..."

Mrs. Hughes' expression mirrored his own sadness. "I know that Anna loves you very much, Mister Bates. I don't think she regrets marrying you in the least. Unfortunately, this is a difficult situation for you both. She needs your patience and your unconditional love if she is to get through this."

Bates looked at the housekeeper for a moment after she'd finished speaking. She suddenly realized how much she was framing the situation in Anna's favor, speaking as though he needed to support his wife even though he should have been considered the wronged party.

"She has it," he said thoughtfully. Whatever else was on his mind in that instant, he kept to himself.


TBC