Hello there, guys, I'm back!
Sorry if I disappeared for a while, but I recently underwent minor eye surgery and couldn't write or read for some time. My sight is still a bit blurred, so if you spot any typos that I may have overlooked, please, tell me!
(Also, considering that English is not my first language, if any of you find grammatical mistakes and/or misspelled words, – inform me! I'll correct them as soon as I can!)
Hope you enjoy this chapter and the upcoming ones!
...
As soon as everyone had finished their dinner, Sir Anthony had showed up at their table. He had paid his respects to the family and casually asked Edith if, by any chance, she would have liked to "keep an old man company" and take a small walk with him on the promenade deck.
"To catch some fresh air after dinner", he explained, glancing timidly at Lord Grantham.
"Well, I don't see any reason why not, old sport!" Robert answered, cheerfully.
"I mean, if she's willing to, of course." Sir Anthony looked inquiringly to Edith.
Edith could see Mary's sneering expression with the corner of her eye. She ignored it, smiled and was about to answer, when the Dowager Countess suddenly stepped in.
"Isn't it a bit chilly outside, Edith dear?" She said, coldly. "You're not dressed for it, you'll catch a cold." Her expression was undecipherable. "I don't think it's wise to go walking outside."
Everyone froze and looked at her. Sybil let her napkin fall on the table. Robert stared at his mother with a perplexed face. Even Molly Brown scowled at her.
Edith didn't understand. Why was granny putting a spoke in her wheel? What did she do wrong this time?
There was an uncomfortable silence: Edith was suddenly aware of every fork being put down, every dish being removed from the tables, every single sound around her in the dining room. Sir Anthony cast a rapid, quizzical glance at them and looked ready to withdraw his proposal.
"I can ask Anna to get her a shawl as soon as we get back to our room" Cora finally said, in a doubtful tone.
"Yes, that will do" added Edith, hopefully. "Will it, Papa?"
"I guess" he still looked confused.
"Good. It's settled, then. Goodnight, Mama, Papa. Granny. I'll see you later." She put her hand on Sir Anthony's arm and hurried outside, carefully avoiding to glance back. She knew Violet Crawley was staring disapprovingly at her back.
…
The two of them – the older gentlemen with his tall dark silhouette and the top hat, and the small, elegantly dressed figure on his side – strolled slowly down the deck along with a few other couples, chatting pleasantly.
Sir Anthony had been describing his estate and the problems of the upcoming mechanized farming to Edith, talking to her as if she was on equal footing with him. She liked it terribly: every man she had talked to was prone to treat her like she was a child, never addressing serious arguments as if she wasn't able to grasp them, always talking about weather and horses and inconsequential gossip.
She knew it was just the way men were taught to treat young women (and women, on their side, were constantly told to look cheerful and light-headed and say things like "Oh, you're so very smart, my little head could never understand such complicated things!"), but still, she was pleased Sir Anthony didn't conform to this trend.
Cora didn't send Anna with the shawl: if she had forgotten to or purposefully decided to leave them alone, Edith couldn't tell. She was still quite puzzled by her grandmother's sudden displeasure. What on Earth could she have against good Sir Anthony?
"Look! A shooting star!" A female voice - not far from them - cried out.
Edith stopped and glanced up quickly enough to see the long white line of light crossing the sky, then she looked around to see who had said that. It was the red-haired girl Edith had already seen before, at dinner: she had grabbed a davit and was leaning back, staring at the sky. Her hair were disheveled and she was wearing a man's jacket on top of her elaborate evening dress.
She was talking to a fair-haired young man, who was not – Edith was sure of that – her fiancé.
"Have you seen it? The star?" Sir Anthony asked, kindly.
"Yes" she whispered. "I think I have."
"Aren't you supposed to… wish on it?"
Edith opened her mouth to say something then closed it again. "No" she finally said, staring down. "It's taken. That young lady up there saw it first, she already claimed it. I'm too late." And the tone she had said that implied that it was a customary situation. I'm always too lake, it implied. Somebody always takes my wishes away from me.
Sir Anthony might not have been a particularly perceptive person, especially with women, but he knew how to recognize someone who had one too much stroke of bad luck.
"Maybe" he licked his lips, not knowing exactly how to express what he was trying to say. "I mean, I'm sure one of those times…" He made a vague gesture in the hair with his left hand. "It'll be your turn to be the first. To be the lucky one."
"Do you think so?" she gave him a thin smile.
Somewhere in her mind, she could hear her mother telling her to always be cheerful and light when she was talking to men – but she was really not in the mood to play flirting games that night. Her grandmother's interference had cast a shade on her.
"I'm sure of it." He smiled encouragingly. He meant well, Edith was sure of it, but… "I mean, such a sweet, lovely young woman – as you are - is surely going to achieve everything she sets her mind to. Sooner or later."
She turn her head to see if he was teasing her, but he looked perfectly serious. "Thank you, Sir Anthony. You're always so very kind." Her smile widened a bit.
He looked embarrassed. "I'm not kind, really, I'm… just speaking my mind."
Suddenly, Edith understood what had drawn her to him in the first place. It was his sincere, authentic good-heartedness. The reason he was so polite to everyone was not just because he was a well-bred, Eton educated member of the high society. It was because he was a sincerely, genuinely kind person - he was caring, he was friendly.
In his low-key, old-fashioned way, he was a true gentleman. He really was. Edith stared at him with sudden admiration.
Underneath his elegant evening suits and well-cut tweeds, somewhere inside of him, there was an incorruptible, diamond-hard core of honor and decency; and somehow, it shone through. Someone like Mary would never have seen it, or cared for it: she always liked lively, somewhat reckless characters like the Duke of Crowborough – things like dignity or honesty meant little to nothing to her.
But they meant something to Edith. Mary would have called Sir Anthony boring, but to Edith he was the nearest thing to a knight in a shining armor she had ever met. She knew Mary longed for an adventurous Lancelot to sweep her off her feet - but she would have been just fine being the wife of an honest king Arthur.
"You know" she said, after a long pause. She tried to chose her words carefully – she wanted him to perceive her sincerity. "I just realized why talking to you is so pleasant." Sir Anthony raised his eyebrows, but Edith continued. "You are a truly good person: you don't say nice things just for the sake of it, like men always do, you – you do mean them, all of them, don't you?" She looked up at him. "That's what makes you so likeable, you... you are a gentleman in the highest, in the truest meaning of the word." She looked away, embarrassed. She had gone a bit too far.
They had reached the First Class entrance door without even noticing. They stopped in front of it, but didn't go in.
"Oh, ah… Er…" Edith's little speech seemed to have put Sir Anthony in a really painful situation. He looked terribly self-conscious.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir Anthony, I didn't mean to embarrass you, I…"
"Oh, no, no, no, I, umh" he rubbed his nose. "I'm just really, ah, really flattered." He smiled shyly. He looked rather touched.
"You know, this is… this is probably the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me." He put his hand in his pocket and rocked back and forth on his heels, nervously. The light on the deck was dim, but Edith could swore he was blushing: she immediately thought that the old, serious gentleman getting all awkward and pleased on a compliment was the most delightful thing she had ever seen.
Without thinking, she got on tiptoe (he was so tall!) and – suddenly, clumsily - kissed him on the cheek.
They stared at each other for a moment, then Edith smiled nervously, and with an incoherent "Uh… well, er, yes… good night, Sir Anthony", she rushed inside.