Thank you all for reading. Christmas is almost upon us, and I hope to finish this story fairly soon so I can concentrate on a Yuletide story...
Healing
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Rosamund watched while the man visibly collapsed, both physically and emotionally, his feelings raw and uncharacteristically left on show, unconscious and uncaring who saw them. In response, her own eyes blurred with tears. This was why the man had agreed to go to Munich so readily, so eagerly, even though he had not seen Edith in two years, even though he hadn't truly understood what was involved, even though he had nothing to gain by it.
He loved her still. He always had.
She took her seat and waited respectfully for the man to recover himself. Eventually he spoke, rubbing his eyes awkwardly.
"I do apologise, Lady Painswick. It…it has been a difficult few days."
Stewart appeared at the door, left ajar in everyone's haste, and gently knocked for attention.
"Sir? Do you require anything?"
Anthony looked up at his man, and gathered what was left of his wits. He rose to his feet.
"I think I should freshen myself up after sleeping rough in a church before I impose myself upon you, Lady Painswick, and Lady Edith again. I'm sure you will want to know what I have discovered when I am more presentable."
"It sounds like your journey was eventful, Sir Anthony. But please make haste. I have news for you too."
Anthony nodded and followed his man to their rooms.
.
Bathed and freshly shaved, and in clean clothes, Anthony sat in Edith's room in an extra chair that had been brought in for him next to Rosamund. They both looked at Edith, lost in thought after their exchange of information.
"So when Gregson tricked Edith into signing that document, the affidavit, was it to help divorce himself from Elizabeth Gregson, or from the Countess?"
"I'm almost certain it must have been to assist with the proposed divorce from Elizabeth Gregson. From what I saw and heard Gregson really did love the Countess. When he was wounded he forgot who he was, couldn't even remember his name. When he had to opt for one he chose something Germanic sounding but his unconscious mind still knew of his old life. Marcus Gruman is similar to Michael Gregson, you have to admit. If he was aware of what he was doing, if he was trying to run away from his old life, why not chose a name totally different?"
"And why come back to England if you were trying to build a new life with a new spouse?" mused Rosamund. "No, I think you are right, Sir Anthony. Michael seems to have suffered greatly. When he came back to England, he lost all memory of his new life in Germany, and deliriously convinced himself that his English wife was insane, all to protect his mind from the painful knowledge of what he had done: married another woman bigamously, whom he loved and who would be greatly hurt should the truth emerge. I don't suppose we will ever know whether he loved Elizabeth or whether that marriage was a happy one, not now."
"Probably not; Elizabeth will no doubt be very hurt when she hears of all this. And she will have heard. If the case has got to the solicitors of the parties involved, she must have been informed by now. But by the time Gregson met Edith, all these different stories that his mind was keeping separate were beginning to unravel. I do believe that he loved Edith, Lady Painswick. I don't think he intended to…to take her in, or ruin her. He meant to come to Germany, secure a divorce and marry her. I think tricking her into signing the document and filing it for an English divorce is merely evidence that his mind was clouding and leaving him. He didn't need to cite a correspondent for the German divorce, if he could prove Elizabeth was…oh! Now I see."
"Somewhere in his head he knew he wouldn't be granted a divorce on grounds of insanity because he couldn't prove Elizabeth was insane" said Rosamund.
"No…so in order to put through an English divorce, he tricked Edith into signing that piece of paper and filed for divorce before he left for Germany. When he arrived in Germany, of course, his German memories took over and his mind submerged any thoughts of Elizabeth…or of Edith."
"Until the Countess brought him English newspapers to read and his mind collapsed in on itself, unable to keep it all segregated any longer, and he lost his mind." Anthony thought back to when he had seen Gregson. "Poor man."
"And poor Edith. That is if she even survives…" Rosamund's tears forced through once more, but she controlled them quickly.
"What does the doctor say about the baby's chances?" asked Anthony, unsure whether he was deserving of asking.
"He's as vague as he is about Edith's chances. He just says I should prepare for the worst. I wish Robert were here."
Anthony suddenly felt cold. Rosamund might not mind his presence now, but he was sure Robert would.
"When were they told?"
"The same day I sent that telegram to you. It will take them a few days to get here…I fear what might have happened by the time they arrive."
"Please, Lady Painswick, please don't lose hope. Edith is young and strong."
"I know you are trying to convince yourself as much as me, Anthony. We both know that it might be for the best if…"
"No! I'm sure we can find some way of…of helping her through this. You've been sitting with her constantly for, what, two nights now? I insist that you let me sit with her tonight. I'll have the nurse here too. I will go to rest now and relieve you at eleven o'clock, and you will get a good night's sleep and be much more use to Edith because of it. No, I insist!" Anthony said firmly crushing Rosamund's objections.
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Anthony did not rest. He spent the late afternoon and evening putting through calls to his bank and solicitors. Despite all of Stewart's complaints, he sat writing until eleven o'clock came, and he was at Edith's room punctually.
"Any change?" he asked.
"No, not really. I would have sent for you if there had been, Anthony" Rosamund yawned. "I am grateful that you were here, painful although it must be for you."
She put her hand on his disabled arm affectionately. Fear and exhaustion had blunted her social proprieties but reminded her of what was most important. Anthony covered her hand with his own accepting her unspoken sympathy.
"I…I don't think I could…if it happens…" He looked up at her and stopped himself rambling. "If I don't get a chance to tell her…I have made sure that she and her child will never need for money…when she pulls through…no matter what. Michael can't look after her, and someone has to."
"I'm sure Robert and Cora…" Rosamund began rather affronted at this implied slur on her brother. Then she had a vision of how Robert might react to hearing what had been kept from him all these months. "Thank you, Anthony." Rosamund seemed to notice something with a gasp. "I'm sorry, I have dropped your title today, without your permission."
"No need. Anthony is fine."
"You are a fine man, Sir Anthony. I know why you did…what you did. I just don't understand how such a good man as you, a man so much in love, could think you didn't deserve Edith."
"I just didn't deserve her. I'm too old and incapable. And…there were…objections, Lady Painswick."
"From my mother, no doubt. I am sorry, Anthony, and please call me Rosamund."
"From Lady Grantham, yes, but also from Lord Grantham. He was quite right to do so. I shouldn't have left calling it off until the very last minute. She would not have been so badly hurt if I'd just slipped away quietly sometime during the engagement…but..."
"But you could not do it, because you loved her."
"I was selfish."
"Love can be selfish and good at the same time, Anthony." She looked at his surprised eyes, knowing she'd said enough. "I know you will, but please call me immediately there's any change."
"Of course. And thank you."
.
Anthony pulled the chair to Edith's bedside. The nurses were excellent and she was washed and clean despite the illness drawing all the colour from her skin. She looked uncomfortable, her body was not relaxed, and although no one could hear what she was saying, she still murmured.
Anthony held her hand. She had such delicate hands. He remembered watching her drive and marvelling at how she managed the great machine with those beautiful hands. He wanted to kiss her fingers, but didn't think that was right.
The night crept on. Anthony kept his vigil, occasionally renewing his prayer made in Oberammergau Church. The nights were so quiet here, just like they used to be at Locksley. All those nights when what he most wanted was to be by Edith's side. This was not what he had wished for. He wondered if she had chosen a name for the child. This poor child, offspring of a mad father and a mother so desperate for love. He would give anything, anything to be back in the summer of 1920, to make everything right. He began crying softly as he whispered her name.
Edith gave a long sigh.
Anthony looked at her, fear gripping him. Then she started breathing again, less tensely. Anthony called to the nurse to wake her from a doze. She came to examine Edith, placing her hand on her forehead, taking her pulse, counting her breaths.
"I think the fever had broken. I will call the doctor."
.
Once the doctor had been and confirmed it, Anthony knocked on Rosamund's door to tell her. She broke down and cried with relief. Then he returned to Edith's bedside once the nurses had changed the bedclothes.
Around dawn, Edith opened her eyes. The nurse gave her a sip of water. Edith held out her hand to Rosamund.
"Aunt?"
"You've been very ill, my dear, but you're getting better now."
"And Michael?"
Rosamund's face fell with disappointment. She'd felt certain Edith would ask for Anthony. She couldn't imagine how Anthony felt.
"Michael is not coming, my dear. He's not well. He's in no danger, but he can't come to you."
"But Anthony promised…"
"I'm so sorry, I did all I could…" Anthony said, regret plain in his eyes. Edith turned to look at him.
"You. What are you doing here? Get out of my room! Now!"
Rosamund couldn't believe her ears, but Anthony looked as though he had expected this dismissal. He had expected it, and it still hurt. He left her room and shut the door.