With the scripted scenes, it's often hard to decide whether to do them from Bates or Anna's perspective. In this instance, I tried to do both at once - I'll be interested to hear what you all think of it. Thanks for reading!

May 1914

Bates waited for her outside, glad for the night air and the quiet to hide his shame in. He would have given anything he had, and more, not to have had to reveal his past to three of the people whose respect he was most anxious to keep. Occasionally, when contemplating the inevitable arrival of this moment, he had thought it might be a relief to have the secret off his chest. But it wasn't a relief; it was a terrible burden to have shocked and disappointed them all so much. Mr. Carson, who had trusted him; Mrs. Hughes, who had believed in him; Anna, who had loved him.

Anna, whom he loved.

He could admit that now, when he might have lost her love forever, when he might be turned away from Downton tomorrow with no character. Anna had taken his heart unaware, slipping beneath his defenses before he'd even had a chance to put them up. By the time he had known what was happening, it was too late to prevent it. She was the sun rising in the morning, she was the moon lighting the darkness of the night. What she had seen in him in return, Bates couldn't imagine; he could only count his blessings to have been so fortunate as to have known her love at all. But he had wanted so much more! For all that he had fought her feelings, and his own, her love had lit a candle within him, had given him hope for the future where before he had thought his life's solitary course settled.

It had been all too tempting to let the incident pass without speaking. Thomas and O'Brien had tried to frame him for theft twice—surely they wouldn't have tried it a third time after the first two had failed. But, he told himself, they would find another way to jeopardize his position. He couldn't take the chance that they would go digging into his past and expose his secrets. If the truth was to come out, and he was convinced now that eventually it would, he needed to be the one to reveal it. As he'd stood there in Mrs. Hughes' sitting room, listening to the accusations, and seeing in both Anna's face and Mrs. Hughes' the determination not to believe, he had been filled with guilt over the deception he had practiced. These good women who believed in him deserved to know the truth, even if it cost him everything he valued.

Bates didn't regret having told them.

But the look on Anna's face, the way she had ducked his gaze, haunted him. He was no longer even certain that she would follow him outside. This morning, he would have known that if something bothered him, she would find him and offer her support. He couldn't count on that now.

Perhaps, he thought, he should give up and just go in, lay aside the fragile dreams that had just begun to form.

And that was when he saw her coming toward him. His heart leaped within his chest.

Anna had been glad of her work tonight after Mr. Bates' revelation. It had given her time to think about what he had said.

So this was what he had kept secret all this time. The poor man; she wouldn't have wanted to admit to that, either.

She wished she could have reassured him earlier, but she hadn't known what to say. He had been so brave, so upright and honourable, admitting all of that—because they never would have known, otherwise. He wouldn't have had to say; but he did, anyway, because he could not let them labour under a misimpression. Anna remembered her promise, that nothing he could tell her about himself would change the way she felt … but it did. He had been right. It had to. Knowing what he had gone through, what he had risen above to become the man he was today, made her admire him all the more. She couldn't even argue with his offer to resign, not really. It was like him to do so, to try to take the burden off Mr. Carson's shoulders. But … Downton without him? With another man sitting in his chair next to her, day after day? It sounded bleak. Miserable.

Grateful as she had been for her work, by the time Anna was done with it she was burning to talk to him. She had to know if he had considered her at all in his decision to resign, and what hope, if any, she would have if he left.

He was waiting for her in the yard, his expression unreadable.

"Mr. Bates."

"Anna?" The moment after his urgent whisper of her name was one of the longest of his life. He needed so badly to know what she would say.

"Will you really leave?" It wasn't everything she had wanted to say, but it was the most important.

Bates tried to make light of it. "I doubt his lordship wants a thief in the house." He watched her for a long moment while Anna tried to marshal her arguments. He could see now in her face that she hadn't changed her mind about him, or about her feelings for him, and he wished he deserved such faith. But he didn't, and he never had. Gently, he said, "Go to sleep, and dream of a better man." Anna would never know what that sentence had cost him—to admit that he knew of her feelings, to hint that he shared them, and to give them back to her, all at the same time, when all he wanted to do was beg her forgiveness for having lied to her, for not having found a way to prevent her from trusting her heart to someone as unworthy as he.

She shook her head, her throat tightening. Now he spoke out. Now when it might be too late—and only to tell her not to hope. "I can't … because there isn't one."

Unable to stop himself, he reached for her hand, his big fingers closing over her small ones, stroking them. Anna dropped her eyes to their twined hands. It was hard to believe a simple touch of hands could mean so much. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his fingers, wishing she could keep holding on always. Little electric shocks were buzzing along her skin where he touched her, and everything she had wanted to say had been driven completely out of her head.

Anna was so beautiful to him in this moment, her cheeks faintly pink with her reaction to his touch. Bates couldn't stop looking at her.

She looked up to find his eyes, very dark, on hers. Here, finally, was the man she loved, admitting in everything but words that he returned her feelings, and he was looking at her the way she had dreamed of him doing.

They drew together, fingers tightening around each other, and Anna's eyes closed as she waited for the feel of his kiss.

Behind her, glass clattered as someone dropped something. Startled, she leaped back, looking up at Mr. Bates. The moment was broken. She took her hand back and hurried away before she could say all the things she wanted to say and have him tell her, again, not to think of him. Because after that moment, to hear him say those things would have broken her heart.

He looked after her, heartsick at the very thought of leaving her. But what could he do? That decision rested with Mr. Carson and Lord Grantham. He tried to tell himself that she would be better off without him, better off with someone who could offer her a life that was out of his reach for good … but it was getting harder and harder to believe.