"Marigold is my daughter", Edit had blurted out. She regretted it as soon as she heard herself saying those words.
...
"I know you must be shocked" she said then, looking down at the floor, feeling thoroughly miserable. "So if you want to leave now I can make excuses for you, say you were called away on business or something... And drive you to the station... Or perhaps I had better let Stark do it... If you don't want to have anything more to do with me... I can totally understand that... I know how shocked you are... Don't be too angry with me... Please... I can't change my past... And Marigold is so important to me..."
Edith was rambling on, not allowing Bertie a chance to get a word in edgeways. He looked at her, realising that he himself was the thing that had frightened her - she had been afraid of his reaction. He didn't like that at all, but at least she trusted him enough to tell him. And cared about him enough to find it necessary.
...
Bertie had had some misgivings when he had jumped into Edith's car and she was driving them down the driveway to Downton Abbey. Nice and automatic - that was what Edith had said his kisses were.
He didn't want his kisses to be nice for her - he wanted them to be wonderful. Because they were for him.
And automatic - that sounded really bad. Like something one did without thinking, like brushing one's teeth perhaps. It seemed quite obvious that she didn't love him the way he loved her. And since love was just about the only thing he had to offer her...
Then he saw Downton Abbey in the distance and realised just how grand the circumstances Edith had grown up in were. Of course it wasn't nearly as grand as Brancaster, but Brancaster wasn't Bertie's and would never be. His own land agent's cottage wasn't even his own, it was Peter's like all the rest of the estate. And although Peter was a kind man who payed Bertie more than was usual for an agent and probably would even give Bertie a rise if he decided to marry, Bertie still knew that he would never be able to offer Edith and any children they might get a life that was even remotely like the way Edith's must have been. He couldn't give Edith's children the kind of happy childhood she must have had herself.
But then again - Bertie had had a happy childhood himself, living in a small cottage without all the expensive clothes and toys and food that money can buy. And Peter - who had everything - hadn't been all that happy as a child anyhow.
...
And now - Marigold was Edith's daughter! Edith had a scandal hidden away that could explode on her and her daughter at any moment.
This came rather as a relief to Bertie. It kind of evened things up between the two of them, making them more equal. Because he really had something to offer now - if the news of Marigold's parentage ever got out it would be so much easier for Edith and her child if she was married and had a husband who supported her. Even if he was only an agent.
And this explained a lot that Bertie had wondered about, Bertie thought. Not only that Marigold was usually the first thing Edith mentioned whenever she saw him, but also those strange words about not being worthy of him that she had uttered after he kissed her that first time. He had wondered a bit about them then since she had so much more to offer than he had.
When Edith had showed Bertie the London flat he had understood that she had most likely been Gregson's mistress - why else should Gregson let Edith inherit all that? He even thought that Edith wanted him to know that, although she didn't say it in so many words.
But Bertie hadn't understood then that the affair had resulted in a child. A child that Edith hadn't given up, like most upper class women would have done in that situation.
...
After listening to Edith's rambling and excuses for a while, Bertie decided that he had heard enough. He gently put his hand under Edith's chin, softly forcing her head up. He waited till she looked him in his eyes before he started talking.
"I'm not shocked, you mustn't think that", he said, smiling friendly at her. "I'm impressed more than anything else."
"Impressed?" Edith couldn't believe her ears. This was not at all the way she had expected him to react.
"Impressed that you are brave enough not to give your daughter up", he said. "And I'm so happy that you have enough trust in me to tell me. That must have been difficult for you."
"But I'm not brave at all! I haven't given her up because I just couldn't do it. I tried to, but it didn't work out."
"That sounds even better. You are a good mother. And Marigold is a wonderful little girl."
"At least when she is asleep", he added with a smile, realising that that was the only way he had seen the little one.
Edith couldn't help smiling back at him. He was perfectly wonderful - she needn't have worried about telling him.
...
They were both quiet for a while, none of them able to finding anything more to say that was remotely as important as the things they had already said.
At long last Bertie broke the silence again.
"I couldn't leave without dinner anyhow", he said. "I'm hungry."
And with those words he opened the door to the corridor and they both went down to dinner.
AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for the kind reviews to last chapter!
...
Yes, Bertie is still the agent, and he hasn't proposed to Edith yet, that is why he doesn't say anything about becoming Marigold's father. The only AU thing yet is that Bertie now knows about Marigold. How will that change the dinner?