After telling Edith in the morning that they should meet at the Dower House, Tom drove over to Locksley.

A big problem was that Tom wasn't sure if Sir Anthony would like to see him. The man had locked himself up at his estate for the last two years, ever since he had left Edith at the altar. Tom had heard that he was refusing all invitations and all visitors, seeing no one but his staff and tenants. Tom was deep in thought, wondering what would happen. Sir Anthony was a nice man, he had helped Tom out that time with Larry Grey, and he was always interested in others and never condescending. If Tom could only get a chance to talk to him he was sure the kind Sir Anthony would be more than willing to save Edith and her child.

Sir Anthony had jilted Edith at the altar, there was no denying that. But Tom had seen the agony in Sir Anthony's eyes when he left church that day. So he was almost certain that Sir Anthony really loved and cared for Edith, at least that he had done so at the time, in spite of what he did. Not like that bastard Gregson, who had taken advantage of Edith and then abandoned her. But Sir Anthony had abandoned Edith too, although not with a bun in the oven.

...

Tom was very uncertain of how Edith would react also. She would probably be very angry with him. And with Sir Anthony.

And Edith's present circumstances was really not Tom's secret to tell. He remembered how upset she had been when she thought that Lady Grantham had told it to Tom. Telling Sir Anthony would probably be worse, he was perhaps one of the last persons Edith wanted to know about it.

...

When the door was opened by the old butler, Tom asked if he could see Sir Anthony. The butler said that he was very sorry but his master didn't receive any visitors. It was no use even asking him.

"Can I write him a note then?" Tom asked.

"I don't know..."

The old butler thought for a while before he decided.

"Well, I can't see why not." And the butler brought pen and paper to Tom who started writing, holding the paper against the door.

Tom went back to the car as Sir Anthony's butler went to Sir Anthony to give him the note. If that note wouldn't help, nothing would, Tom thought.

Tom hadn't even opened the car door when he heard a window open in the house. A familiar voice that he hadn't heard for a very long time was calling his name. Sir Anthony was looking out through the open window.

"Please come in, Mr Branson", he said with a worried but friendly smile. "Come in and have some tea with me."

Tom obliged and was shown to the library where Sir Anthony stood waiting, a very shy and very embarrassed smile on his face. He was looking more skinny and forlorn than ever.

Sir Anthony offered Tom a seat and they both sat down.

"First of all I want to tell you how very sorry I am about your loss. Lady Sybil was a wonderful young woman", Sir Anthony said, looking earnestly into Tom's eyes for the first time.

"Thank you." Tom said. "I appreciate that. She certainly was."

"And Matthew Crawley was a remarkable young man", Sir Anthony added.

"So he was."

They sat there in silence then until the butler returned with the tea. Tom got his tea and a scone with butter and jam before Sir Anthony said anything more.

"I am so sorry about what I did to Lady Edith", Sir Anthony said then, looking down at the floor.

Then he was lost in thought for a long while. Tom found it better to let him take his time, so he didn't say anything. What he really wanted to say was summed up neatly on that note.

"I'm sure I hurt her very much at the time. But I have always thought it was for the best."

"I don't think leaving a woman at the altar can ever be for the best..." Tom said softly.

"No, of course not, I'm sure you are right..." Sir Anthony said, his eyes full of sadness. "But she is such a gifted writer, making a name for herself. I have read all her articles, at least all I know of, and they are simply brilliant. I am so proud of her..."

He was quiet for a moment again.

"I have no right to be of course... I have no right to anything at all. But she has become an important part of the twentieth century instead of being locked up in this dusty old place with an old cripple like me."

Tom just listened. Sir Anthony obviously needed to say this. Tom wanted to say that Edith was doing most of her writing at Downton and could just as easily have done it at Locksley. And the room wasn't particularly dusty. The only thing that looked really neglected in that room was Sir Anthony himself. But Tom didn't want to object to anything Sir Anthony said right now. There were more important issues at stake.

"Why did you write a note like that?" Sir Anthony asked at last. "I thought she was doing fine?"

Tom's note was lying there at the table. All it said was: "Help! Save Edith!"

...

AN: Thank you so much for reading and commenting.

...

The expression 'bun in the oven' is probably a bit too new for Tom to think in 1922. But I like it, so I keep it.