Thank you all for reading!

August 1913

Anna was halfway through making the bed in Lady Edith's room, thinking about Gwen on her way to her job interview. She hoped the other girl did well; while she didn't relish having to share her room with someone new, Gwen deserved to be able to do what she wanted. Everyone should, she thought. She didn't envy Gwen, though, having to sneak around, and go amongst strangers, and answer questions.

With some surprise, she heard the faint tap of Mr. Bates' cane, and saw him come around the door. "Shall I give you a hand?" he asked.

"Oh, would you? Takes half the time with two." Industriously, she tucked the sheet under, trying to hide her happiness at seeing him. It wasn't uncommon to run into him up here, especially if his work in Lord Grantham's dressing room had taken extra time. But it was always a nice change of pace to see him in the middle of the morning.

Mr. Bates hung his cane on the doorknob and bent over the bed, tucking in the sheet on his side. "I always feel a bit sorry for Lady Edith," he observed after a moment.

"Me, too," Anna said. "Although I don't know why, when you think what she's got and we haven't."

They bent over, picking up the coverlet and pulling it up over the pillows. "Mrs. Hughes said she went after the other heir, Mr. Patrick Crawley, the one who drowned."

"That was different. She was in love with him."

Patting down the coverlet, Mr. Bates asked, "What happened?"

"She never got a look in. He was always set up to marry Lady Mary."

"He's a braver man than I am … Gunga Din." Mr. Bates smiled, and Anna chuckled. Lady Mary certainly could be forbidding, especially when you didn't know her well. As they straightened the coverlet, he said, "Sad to think about."

Thinking of Lady Edith and her hopeless feelings for Mr. Patrick, Anna said, "It's always sad, when you love someone who doesn't love you back." Only when she had finished the sentence did she think about what she had said and who she had said it to. She'd never spoken about her growing feelings for him, but he had to have noticed. Sometimes she was sure he knew, and even returned them, and other times she thought she must be imagining things. She couldn't help adding, "No matter who you are."

No question he had noticed that. His face froze, his eyes widening just a bit as he looked at her across the bed. Then he blinked, the sudden aware look disappearing. "No, I mean it's sad that he died."

Anna was disappointed. She had hoped the allusion might have shaken something out of him, some acknowledgement or explanation. He had to have seen how she felt about him by now. "Oh. Yes," she said at last, her fingers restlessly smoothing the coverlet. "Very sad. He was nice." She picked up the bundle of used sheets and Lady Edith's candle, moving around the end of the bed toward the door, where he was waiting for her to go first. "Well, thank you for that. Much appreciated."

"My pleasure." She was almost through the door when he spoke again, and Anna stopped, turning to look up at him. "Perhaps … Mr. Patrick did love her back, he just couldn't say."

It was impossible to tell by his face or his eyes if he really meant Mr. Patrick or if he was talking about himself. Either way, Anna wasn't sure why a man couldn't say, if he loved someone enough. "Why ever not?"

"Sometimes we're not at liberty to speak. Sometimes … it wouldn't be right."

As Anna watched him, sure now that he was talking about himself, and that he was trying to tell her not to care for him, he looked away. He pushed past her through the door with uncharacteristic rudeness. Anna stood there, stunned, for a long moment. That had been pretty clear, hadn't it? She should settle for his friendship. That was valuable enough, after all, she tried to tell herself around the sudden emptiness she felt.

She walked down the hall with her bundle of dirty sheets, thinking that she did envy Gwen, after all. At least if she didn't get this job, another one might be out there for her.