I loved writing this chapter. Hope you enjoying reading it. Thanks for the reviews!

Rosamund stood in front of Drake Wolfe's manufacturing plant. She looked up the length of the multi-level building. Never before had she been to Drake's place of employment, and standing here now gave her a sense that she had lost their battle of wills. Rosamund thought of Regene Cadenza and her promise to help the actress. The Dowager countess taught Rosamund that one does not break one's promises. The strength of that lesson was enough to make Rosamund swallow her pride.

She picked up the fabric of her deep green dress and floated up the stairs without letting the hem touch the dirty pavement. With her umbrella clutched under her arm and her purse in the other hand, Rosamund opened the door. Clanking metal, the holler of men's voice, and sounds of car motors blasted around her.

Several heads turned when she entered the building. She walked along the edge of the wall and toward an office door up the paved ramp.

"Hello Shelia! I hope I'm the one you're looking for." A man with an Australian accent called to her from the assembly line. The floor manager heard the comment and the man received a whack to the back of his head. Without a word, the manager cross the room and intercepted Rosamund's path.

"I'm sorry for that." His accent was clearly American. "You must be the bosses wife. I'll take you to him."

The manager accompanied her on the way to the door. She was glad of the escort since it silenced any more off color remarks from the workers.

"Are you expected?"

"No."

He opened the door and put his head inside.

"It's your wife this time."

Rosamund peered into the room and saw Drake look up from a pile of papers scattered across his desk. Rosamund snapped her attention back to the manager, and opened her mouth to ask who else had visited, but he left before she had the chance.

The door closed behind him and Rosamund was surprised to find nearly all the noise from the outside vanished. Drake turned his eyes back down to the papers and continued to write.

"Just one minute, please."

He gestured to the chair. Rosamund put her purse on the edge of his messy desk and then set her umbrella against the side of the chair. She paced around the office, looked out the window, watched the workers, and then turned around.

From the angle in which she stood she observed several pictures on Drake's desk. Jess was there, of course, and a very attractive older woman with elegant white hair. Rosamund assumed she must be Drake's mother. The third picture, however, took Rosamund by surprise because she saw her own face reflected back. She understood how the floor manager had recognized her.

She wondered if Drake placed the picture there for appearances sake or if... No, it must be for appearances. It would be strange for him not to keep a picture of his wife. Rosamund lifted an eyebrow. Where had he obtained her likeness? She narrowed her eyes. Mama.

Drake stopped writing and said hello. His voice broke her train of thought.

"What brings you here?"

Rosamund went back to the chair and slowly sat as she contemplated the best way to broach the subject.

"I promised to help Regene. I am going to Old Seaborough today."

Drake leaned back in his chair and his eyebrows lifted.

"Really? I thought it was to hell with the lot of us."

Rosamund stiffened at his vulgar language. She pushed back her shoulders and found the next words physically painful.

"I spoke to Regene. She vowed that my papa was not her..." Rosamund felt a flush come to her cheeks.

"Lover?" Drake's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Since I rather pity the creature, I decided to help." Rosamund avoided his gaze.

He shook his head and looked out the window.

"I'll be a monkey's uncle. Does Lady Rosamund have a heart?"

Rosamund inched forward on the chair.

"Oh, shut up, you heel."

Drake looked down at his papers and Rosamund thought he held back a grin at her expense.

"I am beginning to wonder. Jess told me about the music you got for her. I'm glad to see you two are getting along better."

Rosamund knew he was fishing for information about what caused the rift but she was not yet ready to come clean on that score.

"Did she tell you? For the garden party I've invited several young people. Young men and a few girl's her age. I know she will make friends."

"You better stop, Roz, before I really start to change my opinion of you."

"I hate it when you call me Roz. It sounds like the name of a Victoria pug."

"I'm sure you didn't come here to engage in another battle of wits with me." Drake opened his mouth to continued but Rosamund interrupted.

"I don't spar with unarmed opponents."

He eyed her slyly and she suspected he nearly chuckled but his pride must have prevented such an action.

"What did you need?" Drake questioned.

Rosamund moved to the edge of the chair. She did not like that the desk between them as the large object seemed to prevent her charms from reaching him. For what she was about to ask she felt she needed all her persuasions.

"Last time I went in search of the child I was mistaken for its mama. Implications like that have a way of spreading."

Drake watched her with a smug expression that she felt the urge to slap from his face.

"This time I think it would be better if someone, preferably a husband, accompanied me. That would prevent any misconception of my position."

Drake glanced down at her purse and umbrella.

"You are going now?"

"Yes. I catch the train at half past nine." She lifted her chin.

"I'm not part of the leisure class, you know. I can't just pick up and leave anytime I feel like it."

Rosamund pretended the slight in his tone did not sting. She hid her disappointment by reaching for her purse.

"Very well." She stood.

Drake rounded the desk quickly and managed to pick up the umbrella before she could. He handed it to her but when she tried to take it he did not let go.

"Because you asked me nicely and because it's for Regene." He let go of the umbrella. "I have to tie up a few things here. I will meet you at the station."

Rosamund nodded once and then went to the door. Before she opened it she turned back around.

"Thank you."

He studied her face for a few moments and then a small grin pulled at the side of his mouth. As she walked away, Rosamund contemplated just how handsome her make-believe husband was.

Rosamund waited on the train station bench, and watched people as they filtered in and out of the busy terminal. Even though it was already five minutes past the designated departure time, the train remained unmoved. Rosamund glanced at the clock. Disappointment overcame her at the possibility Drake would not arrive in time.

Rosamund stood and reluctantly started toward the train. As she walked, she did a superb job of convincing herself her disappointment in being stood up came from the trouble she would have at the orphanage and not in missing a day at the seashore with Drake.

She reached the steps and turned to look down the terminal. Drake sprinted toward her. She held back a smile and lifted her shoulders.

He stopped in front of her and panted for air.

"You're late."

"Didn't think I would make it, did you?" He asked between breaths and winked at her.

The train started to move. Drake took Rosamund's arm and helped her up the steps. He jumped up after her and, once sure he was onboard, Rosamund turned to find their sets. She had purchased two seats side by side and took the one next to the window. Drake sat in the seat that bordered the aisle.

"I'm surprised you didn't get a private box." He looked over her head to the outside.

"I do when I go to Downton but I like watching the countryside change when I go to the sea."

"Have you travelled much?" Drake leaned back in his seat as the train pulled out of the station. After only a few seconds the train passed by the buildings of London.

"What makes you ask that?"

"Really, Roz. Answering a question with a question?" Drake mimicked her tone.

Rosamund shot him a sharp glare but could not help the small chuckle that escaped her lips.

"Yes, I have. Marmaduke loved adventures. He loved a good hunt. He took me to exotic places like Africa, India, even America."

"Is that why you didn't have children? Because he wanted to travel?"

Rosamund gasped. She studied him and quickly looked out the window. She felt his knee fidget nervously.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

Rosamund relaxed her shoulders and turned back to him. He faced the other direction and looked thoroughly humbled. She nearly laughed at his forlorn brow.

"I will answer but you should be aware, Mr. Wolfe, that can be a very touchy subject for some women," Rosamund gently scolded. He looked up at her and his gentle eyes made her feel safe.

"I see it is for you. I shouldn't have asked."

Rosamund sighed and then shook off her momentary discomfort. Drake was her husband after all.

"Marmaduke and I travelled because we had no children. We both wanted them. After a while I became concerned so I went to see a specialist."

Unlike Robert, Drake did not seem uncomfortable with the foray into medical issues.

"It turned out it wasn't me." Rosamund looked wistfully at a spot just over the seat in front of them. "Marmaduke was such a proud, robust man. I didn't have the heart to tell him. He never would have forgiven himself so I let him think what he wanted. We never openly discussed it. He was like Robert in that way." Rosamund blinked a few times and then turned to Drake. She never suspected him capable of the reverence he displayed.

"It's funny. I've never told anyone that. Not even mama."

Rosamund did not realize she had clenched her hand into a fist until Drake reached down and entwined his fingers with hers.

"Lady Rosamund Painswick nee Crawley that was a selfless, courageous thing to do." He kissed her hand and then released it.

"I..." Rosamund felt her throat go dry. "I wasn't trying to impress you." Rosamund put her hand in her lap on top of the other.

"I know." Drake's whisper sent a jolt down Rosamund's back. She averted her attention back out the window and to the changing scenery.

"It wasn't courageous. You've seen me with Jess. I wouldn't have made a very good mama." There was no self pity in her tone. To her, the words were merely a statement of fact, proven to her that night Regene brought Jess in from the damp streets of London.

"You are doing a fine job with Jess," Drake said sincerely, then added with a grin, "for an amateur."

She brought her attention back to him and used her purse to playfully smack his shoulder.

"Being a parent isn't easy no matter who you are." Drake frowned. "I think of Regene having to give up hers. That's rough."

Rosamund lowered her voice and caught Drake's gaze.

"She didn't give her up."

Drake narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.

"Drake, I have a feeling Regene was involved in a scandal of such epic proportion..." Rosamund looked around the area to see if any other passenger sat nearby. Satisfied her conversation would not be over heard, she leaned closer to Drake.

"This maid who wrote to Regene, Tilly Fenbridge, I think she was supposed to dispense with the child."

"Dispense? What do you mean, dispense? As in..." Drake leaned back in his seat as Rosamund watched the full impact of her words sink in. After a few moments he moved back toward her.

"Why would she want to do that?"

"If the father had been my papa think of the implications. A married man of position with a great deal to lose."

"Yes, but there is no way I can believe someone like your father would have ordered something that drastic."

Rosamund beamed at him.

"Thank you for that."

Drake nodded and she found herself momentarily distracted by his kind eyes. She delicately cleared her throat.

"But you don't know society. Someone ordered that child's murder. The only reason the baby might still be alive is because Tilly Fenbridge was a good person."

"You know, Roz, this is a bit exciting. I feel like that Hercule Parrot."

"It is a mystery." Rosamund inclined her chin much the same way as her mama often did. "And it's pronounced Poirot."

The rest of the ride to the seashore was spent in playfully banter and in Rosamund pointing out key landmarks of the English countryside. Drake commented more than once about bringing Jess with them next time and staying for a weekend. Rosamund pushed that suggestion from her mind as well as her confession about her relationship with Marmaduke. The new bond formed between herself and Drake alarmed her and she needed time to think it over.

They got off at the small country station and Rosamund walked across town to the market square. Both of them asked around the village until they learned that the surviving records from the burned down Campden Shores orphanage ended up at city hall. After spending a few hours there without success, Rosamund and Drake were directed to the home of an elderly man and wife, who used to work at the orphanage.

The elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Essence, offered Drake and Rosamund tea. The four of them were comfortably seated on the couple's outside patio which over looked the ocean. After the necessary small talk, the opportunity to find answers finally arrived.

"Did the two of you adopt from our orphans home?" Mrs. Essence asked, as she attempted to refill Rosamund's glass.

Rosamund held up her hand as soon as she realized what Mrs. Essence was doing. The tea was far from drinkable. The jolly old woman had such rosy cheeks Rosamund felt guilty for thinking unfavorably of her tea.

"No. We are looking for a child that might have come to you. A friend of ours," Rosamund explained. She was grateful to be mistaken for an adoptive parent this time and not the single parent surrounded by scandal.

"It was a small orphanage. We loved most all the youngsters that came through. We were careful about where they ended up," Mr. Essence said between puff of his pipe.

"That's right. I'm sure you heard we had some very interesting cases. We didn't want to upset any of the family that might be involved," Mrs. Essence explained.

Rosamund looked to Drake.

"I'm afraid we think this might have been one of your most interesting," Drake said. "We don't know many of the details."

"What can you tell us?" Mr. Essence asked.

Rosamund nearly got another sickening whiff of his pipe but a salty sea breeze carried the smoke away from her.

"We think her name was Grace," Rosamund stated. "It would have been about 30 years ago, and it might have been Tilly Fenbridge who brought the girl here."

Mr. Essence coughed uncontrollably and Mrs. Essence patted him on the back until he stopped.

"Why is it you want to know?" Mrs. Essence asked.

Rosamund watched her jolly demeanor changed to a wall of ice. Rosamund looked at Drake, unsure how to answer the question. To her relief, he took the initiative.

"Mrs. Essence, we know Tilly Fenbridge was supposed to dispense of the child but she didn't. On her deathbed she wrote a letter to the child's mother telling her the baby was still alive."

Rosamund narrowed her eyes at him, surprised of all things he decided to go with the truth.

"Do you have proof? Do you have the letter?" Mr. Essence inquired with his eyes wide.

Rosamund suspected these two held a greater piece of the puzzle than they were letting on.

"No. I'm sorry. We don't."

Both Mr. and Mrs. Essence frowned. He took another puff of his pipe and she looked sadly out at the sea. Rosamund refused to give up.

"My maiden name is Crawley. I believe my papa once came here. He was the 5th Earl of Grantham."

Mr. and Mrs. Essence looked at each other. A secret message seemed to pass between them.

"He is your papa?" Mr. Essence questioned.

Rosamund confirmed with a nod of her head.

The older couple conferred with each other in whispers and Rosamund looked at Drake. She was not sure she liked the fact her papa's name had been pulled into the conversation or that it created such a reaction. Drake must have seen her discomfort because he put his hand over hers.

"We've decided to tell you. Since you are the Earl of Grantham's daughter," Mrs. Essence stated.

Mr. Essence put down his pipe.

"Tilly left us strict instructions that her life and the life of the child would be in danger if we ever spoke of it to anyone."

"Especially to a Lord or Lady," Mrs. Essence added, looking directly at Rosamund.

"Unless," Mr. Essence began, "It was the Earl of Grantham. Tilly said he might come asking and if he did, then we were to disclose all."

"I don't suppose he could come here instead?" Mrs. Essence asked.

"I'm sorry. He's been gone for some time," Rosamund said sadly.

Mr. Essence seemed to mull things over in his mind again.

"Oh, just tell her Fredrick, she is his daughter. We've been holding onto it for 30 years," Mrs. Essence encouraged.

Mr. Essence nodded to his wife.

"We took in little Grace. An angel of a girl. Grace is the name her mama gave her or at least that is what Tilly said."

Rosamund tried to focus on his words but Drake still held her hand. Enough time had passed now, that the warmth from his fingers began to distract her. With one clandestine movement, she slipped her hand out of his and then focused on the unfolding story.

"We renamed her and placed her with the best family we knew in Middlesborough. The Gillenbrooks they were called. She grew up rather lonely, as she was never officially adopted, but we heard she made a good life for herself."

"Can you tell us, what is her name? We would like to try and find her," Drake asked.

"I don't know what her name is now. When she was here we called her Anna Smith," Mrs. Essence replied.

"Oh, that sounds familiar. Why is that familiar?" Rosamund asked herself. She put her hand over her mouth as she thought. "Anna, Anna," Rosamund repeated, "Anna Bates?" She turned to Drake.

"I think her maiden name was Smith. Do you think it could be?" Rosamund looked to Drake. He skewed his head to one side.

"She has the right dialect," he replied. "Did she grow up in Middlesborough?"

"I don't know but I think we should go back to Downton and find out."

Drake stood and offered Rosamund his hand. She took it and again he did not let go after she was on her feet.

"I hope we've been some help," Mr. Essence said.

"Just one more question." Rosamund took a deep breath. "I think I have the right to know. Was my papa the father of this child?"

Mr. and Mrs. Essence exchanged a look and then a soft smile fell over both of their aged faces. Mrs. Essence put her hand on Rosamund's arm.

"Oh, no My Lady. Tilly would not tell us who the parent's were but she did say the Earl of Grantham was just a kindly bystander. She made a point to tell us. He was a good man."

"Thank you." Rosamund exhaled. She was so overcome with joy that she let go of Drake's hand and hugged Mrs. Essence.

"If you two aren't in a hurry you should take a stroll down the beach there." Mr. Essence used his pipe to point down the green garden path to the sea.

"It's a very romantic walk for newlyweds." Mrs. Essence winked at them.

"How did you-?" Rosamund started to ask then realized she did not want to know the answer.

"It's obvious, my dear," Mrs. Essence explained.

Drake laughed but Rosamund did not find anything funny about the situation. The men shook hands and everyone exchanged goodbyes. Much to Rosamund's discomfort Drake led her down the trail to the pebble covered beach.

Rosamund wanted to let go of his arm as they walked but the rocky ground presented enough of a challenge that she could better steady herself if she held onto him. After a few minute of strolling, she finally gave up arguing with herself about her hand being on his arm and accepted the position.

They walked along the beach in silence for a long stretch. The sound of the waves washing over the shore and the distant call of gulls helped Rosamund to relax. Her mind wandered over the events of the day and eventually came to dwell on the man next to her.

Over the last few hours she discovered new things about him, most notably he had a way of saying exactly the right thing, as on the train ride there, or exactly the wrong thing, like his irritating nickname for her. Drake Wolfe never said anything that did not stir her to some kind of emotion and that distressed her.

"Careful."

He helped her around a large boulder in the middle of the beach by taking her hand. Once around the obstacle she found his arm again and they resumed the gentle stroll. His arm was strong and she tried not to notice the feel of his well defined muscles.

"I love the ocean," Drake said.

The wind lifted the hair that showed beneath his driver cap. She was grateful for a conversation to help detour her thoughts from the dangerous direction they traveled. His comment made her think about her travels over the sea and America. When she thought of that, she wondered if he had any family there and then remember the picture of the older woman on his desk.

"Is your mama still living?"

Drake stopped for a moment and then resumed walking. Rosamund eyed him curiously.

"I told her of our wedding. She was not pleased that we did not wait so she could attend."

"Our mama's have something in common already."

"Will you write to her? She expects it."

"I suppose. We are in so deep now I can hardly do otherwise."

"Are you sorry you married me?"

Drake did not look at her but kept walking. She was glad because she did not want him to look into her eyes while she answered.

"That will depend on how soon I get my home back." She stopped. "Are you sorry you married me?"

Drake lowered his head and a devilish grin appeared on his face.

"You know any man has to answer any woman yes to that question." He chuckled.

Rosamund let go of his arm.

"We better start back." She marched away.

"Oh come on, Roz. I was only teasing," he yelled to her.

She put distance between them as fast as she could.

"Roz," he called after her. She heard his feet crunch over the pebbled beach as he hurried to catch up.