It wasn't until Richard felt moisture that he realized that the snowflakes were melting in Isobel's hair that he broke the kiss. He didn't want her to become too cold standing out in the snow. Her cheeks held a healthy glow and he brushed his gloved fingers against the soft skin wanting desperately to touch her with his hands uncovered.
Both of the their breath was visible in the night air.
"Richard, what do you want?" Isobel asked.
His courage was still there despite being light-headed from her kisses. "I want to kiss you again. I want to take you to bed, I want to be yours and most of all I want you to want those things too."
Cora and Simon left Crawley House they had agreed that the painting would be moved to the Abbey. In the morning it would be removed from the wall and wrapped to avoid any damage it might incur while in transit. Simon then began speaking of a final gallery that they should visit.
"You know I heard from my Mother the other day. She wants me to visit." Cora said cheerfully.
"Where is she again?" Inquired Simon.
"Newport." delivered Cora.
Simon shook his head he wasn't familiar with the geography of the United States.
Cora just smiled before announcing, "Eastern seaboard, in the state of Rhode Island." Cora informed him.
They continued talking as they walked, Simon would be staying in a guest room at the Abbey before leaving in the morning. While the weather was cold it was a relatively short walk from Crawley House to the Abbey.
Edith couldn't sleep, so she left her bedroom and roamed the corridors. In her minds eye she could see Mary and Tom kissing their children goodnight before slipping into bed. Her own daughter had her own bed with Timothy Drewe and his wife. She had visited the other day, the construction noise was the perfect excuse for her to leave the Abbey. While Sybbie and George were residing in the Abbey her daughter wasn't in need. The Drewe's were successful tenant farmers. Also Edith had access to Michael's money, she provided a healthy stipend to the Drewe's for whatever was needed. Her daughter would have access to good schools and most all the other things that her first cousins would have access to.
A part of her was saddened that more of the Abbey hadn't burned. This place had taken so much from her. Mary had ostracized her against Anthony Strallan, the burned soldier who might have been Patrick, the bungled wedding and many others too numerous to count. There was nothing here for her, Mary would be one deciding what went where. Her parents had never really believed in her either, mocking her opportunity to write for the paper sprang to mind. This made her think of Michael. While they hadn't been married she had loved him and he loved her. He was most likely dead. Tom and Mary had the pity and support of Papa and Mama but just a small pat on the head was what she received. Only Rosamund seemed to understand and to a smaller extent so did Granny.
While she had no physical wound Edith hurt. Her body was weary, she had lost weight and visiting her daughter would bring the most agonizing pain when she had to return to the Abbey without her.
Outside of a window she saw two individuals approach, she recognized her mother instantly. The other had to be the Art Historian. Edith watched them her mind supplying a mock dialog which made her smile. Her mother stumbled, no doubt her heel catching on the gravel. The man steadied her and both froze. Her mother wasn't moving away instead she leaned in close as did the Art Historian. It was obvious that her mother and this man were stealing a kiss. The pain in Edith's body was lessened for now she had a secret and secrets were power.
Barrow was smoking in the servants hall, it was his fourth cigarette in an hour. Others were off either reading books or playing cards together. Baxter was upstairs readying Lady Cora for bed. He knew that she would come down here for tea. It was becoming habit that she and Molesley would share some before bed. Carson was no where to be seen and neither was Mrs. Hughes. While it was common area he had a reason to be here it would be more suspicious he was laying in wait in the corridors. He resisted the urge to light a fifth cigarette.
Footfalls were heard on the stairs and he knew it was her, "Anything?"
Baxter rolled her eyes and sighed, ever since she had burned her diary there had been no more 'reports' no more information.
At this Barrow lost his patience and he shot up from his chair, he crossed the distance quickly his hand clamping around her bicep squeezing tightly. Baxter pulled her arm trying to break his grip. Barrow spoke through clenched teeth, "I know you know something!" he ground out.
The rank smell tobacco emanating from her had her stomach recoiling. "Let me go." Baxter whimpered.
Barrow squeezed harder, the next instant he was shoved to the floor. While Joseph Molesley looked meek he had hidden muscle. Months of stocking shelves, hauling boxes coupled with the weeks spent repaving the road shoveling gravel and mopping hot tar had built his arms and chest. His success against Jimmy in the Strongman game sprang to mind.
From his position on the floor Barrow smirked, "Now, now it was just a misunderstanding."
Joseph ignored him and asked Phyllis, "Are you hurt?"
She smiled shakily, "I'm fine now, thank you."
Baxter strode out of the servants hall with Molesley trailing behind. They passed the boot room and Joseph spoke again, "Are you sure you're not hurt? I'm sure the doctor won't mind-
Joseph stopped speaking when Phyllis's lips touched his. However, he did emit a small squeak before kissing her back. Phyllis eventually pulled away, "I'm fine Joseph."