A/N: I truly appreciate the feedback from everyone.

"Did you pay someone to seduce your wife?"

Just as he feared, Anna had hit upon the one aspect of Vera's accusations that he could not deny. He knew the guilt showed on his face, and he could not lie to her again, not when he'd already led her astray so many times. She deserved better from him, but he feared the consequences of his actions how that they'd been brought into the full light of day.

"I did," Bates confessed, unable to meet her eyes as he spoke the words.

"Why?" she appealed, clearly heartbroken and disappointed at his answer.

"It was the only way I could think to get her to agree to the divorce."

Anna stared at him in confusion for a few seconds before looking away. He glanced at her as she struggled to compose herself, to put order to her tumultuous thoughts and feelings.

"But why not just ask her?"

Her suggestion was not spoken unkindly, nor did she cast blame in her tone. But Bates could sense Anna's growing disharmony with his actions. His admission made at least one thing Vera had said accurate, and if she was right about one of her accusations, why not more? Her doubts were not unjustified, but they hurt all the same.

"It wasn't that simple." He sighed, unsure how to explain. "She would have fought me if I'd asked her."

"How do you know?"

Bates could not tell her that he knew because Vera had done exactly that - fought him tooth and nail at every turn to resist the divorce. She'd blackmailed him and later taken his money only to turn around and refuse their deal. When he thought they were finally safe, she even contacted the judge to derail the divorce. And at the very end, when she'd been silenced and faced defeat, Vera had killed herself in such a way as to frame him for her murder, ensuring that he would go down with her.

But he could tell Anna about none of what he knew.

Sighing heavily in frustration, Bates responded, "Because I know. I know Vera and she'd never have granted the divorce. Even if I'd paid her every cent I own, which I would have done - gladly - she'd never have agreed. She'd rather punish me than anything else. Anna, her wish to harm me is worse than you could possibly imagine."

The woman before him said nothing as she took this in, although her face was unreadable. In coming to know Anna again, her trust in him this time was not as strong. He'd made mistakes along the way that caused cracks in the foundation of their relationship. The fact that she harbored doubts was entirely his fault, not hers, and yet, Bates grieved for the absolute certainty of the woman he'd known before. The Anna who'd married him never would have believed him capable of any of Vera's accusations.

"She was lying, Anna, when she said I was violent." He spoke quietly, addressing the statement of Vera's which he thought would concern her the most. "I've never struck a woman, not even her, not even when I was a drunkard. I've done things in my past of which I am not proud, but never that."

She relaxed slightly at his declaration, even as she affirmed, "I know you're not violent."

Anna favored him with a shy half-smile, but he could still sense tension in her, unasked questions hiding behind her concerned expression.

"What about what she said... about throwing her over?" Anna ventured. Her eyes did not quite meet his as she dropped her gaze to his chest. "I mean, obviously she isn't the woman you told me about, the one who died..."

He'd been caught in the tangled web of his own mistruths, Bates realized, and he had no way of extricating himself without actually lying. And he hated lying to Anna.

"You mean, did I leave Vera for another woman?" he clarified.

"That's what I mean."

Bates stated without hesitation, "No, I did not."

"Then when-"

"Anna," he interrupted her, "please. I cannot explain that part of my life to you, not now. But I didn't leave Vera. She left me. Our marriage was over long ago, and she blames me for... well, for everything that went wrong. I'll admit that I'm responsible for some of her misfortunes, but I've realized over the years what I did not back then, which is that what Vera and I shared was not real love. She never loved me and I never really loved her. And I couldn't stay married to her in name only."

The sigh which escaped his lips was deep and painful as he thought through his next words. "If you aren't certain about marrying me, I understand. Truly, I do. I would never pressure you, not if you have doubts. You deserve the very best that life has to offer, and I'd rather you pursue the best than settle for me." He paused for a few seconds before concluding, "But I will always love you, Anna. More than life itself and every expectation of happiness for the future."

He'd been prepared to walk away from her in the beginning. Even as the pull between them proved as strong and unrelenting as he remembered, he'd resisted for her sake. And now, faced with the real possibility that their engagement might actually fall apart, Bates knew he had to do it again. The pain in his chest was unrelenting, as though he was physically ripping his heart out to hand to her, still beating outside of his body.

But she shook her head at him, tears in her eyes. He hated being the source of any misery for her, but Bates also delighted in the love he saw reflected back at him.

"I don't doubt you, truly," she mustered, wiping at her eyes even as she managed a half-hearted smile. "She seems like an unpleasant woman. I'm sure she'd say anything to make you suffer."

Once, he would have given Vera the benefit of a different answer. But now, he could only answer, "Yes, I expect she would." He stopped, thinking hard before he told her, "But she did make me think. I want you to be sure about this, Anna, about marrying me."

"I am sure, Mister Bates. I already told you-"

"I know what you said, but there is no hurry. His Lordship hasn't yet found us a cottage anyway. And most importantly, I do not want you to feel rushed."

If she needed time to change her mind, Bates wanted Anna to have that time. Despite his knowledge of the future, each moment was a brave new world for them, full of both possibility and danger.

Anna looked determine to say something, but their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of one of the bells - Lady Mary. "I must go up," Anna said, "but we should talk more later."

As he watched her go, his mind turned back to Vera. Surely there was nothing his former wife could do, now that the divorce was final?

Vera disappeared from Downton and the village, leaving no trace of where she went. Just to be safe, Bates wrote to the butler at Duneagle to ensure that the former Mrs. Bates would not seek a position with Lady Flintshire using his name as she had done in his past life. But Mr. McCree returned his letter with a confused response stating the woman had not come to the estate in Scotland. Bates rather hoped that she would give up.

Anna did not push for their marriage with as much fervency as she had before, and Bates resolved to give her time to make certain she truly did wish to marry him. Aside from the evil seeds of doubt Vera had so expertly planted in her mind, Anna still had to contend with his restriction that they never have children. Because while Bates did long for a child with his wife, even now, he could not risk her health and future, not knowing what he knew.

Anna frowned at him when she brought the subject up again a few weeks later, one more hopeful to convince him that such a fate was not guaranteed. "Women have been having children for thousands of years-" she argued.

"And dying from their labors just as long," he responded evenly, undeterred.

"But surely you aren't suggesting completely giving up on... that side of..."

Anna colored furiously as she abandoned the statement, looking away as she attempted to pretend that as a chaste and innocent woman she had no notions of the intimacies of marriage. Discussing it was unheard of, especially in mixed company. But Anna had always been a practical and forthright person.

"That is the safest method," Bates answered her truthfully. "But there are other ways to minimize the risk."

Her expression of disappointment tore at him. It reminded Bates of their years of disappointment before, in his earlier life with Anna. Month after month they'd attempted to have a baby, and month after month, they'd failed. She had lamented that the fault lay with her, that it was nearly always the woman. Once she had said something about being a failure as a wife, and he'd assured her again and again that was not true. But after the attack she suffered at the hands of Lord Gillingham's valet, her feelings on the subject intensified even as she seemed to keep them more to herself.

He long suspected that Anna thought a child might heal the rift that had developed, not only between them following her violation, but in her own heart. Once she'd healed from her horrible ordeal, body and spirit, Anna's desire for pregnancy had renewed. Unfortunately, their disappointment continued.

Until one day, it happened just as she'd always said it would. She gave him the news hesitantly, carefully, as though speaking the words might make the child inside of her vanish. Their happiness in those months was unparalleled. But Bates could not think of his joy in that time, not now.

"We could always take in a child," this Anna suggested, a mirror image of a statement she'd made to him in his memory, in the time before. In their past life, Bates had not readily considered adoption. But now, seeing the desperation in her eyes, he knew he could not completely foreclose to her the chance of motherhood.

"We could," he agreed.

"The war has left many orphans," she went on, obviously having looked into the matter. "Many are older children, but there are some babies and young ones as well."

Hating himself for casting doubt on her hope, Bates stated gently, "They might not let me, with my past."

Anna dismissed his reluctance. "A conviction for theft, years ago? I think with the recommendation of his Lordship and Mr. Carson that might be overlooked."

"But I was convicted of-"

He stopped himself before the word "murder" could come out. No, he was not a convicted murderer, not in this time. Vera was still alive and well somewhere out there, and his criminal record consisted entirely of the theft of regimental silver.

The housemaid looked at him in confusion. "You were convicted of what?" she asked.

He shook his head to clear it, reminding himself to stay in the present and not get lost in his memories of before. "Nothing. Just that the theft was bad enough, and I served time in prison." He sighed. "Anna, are you very sure that you wish to marry me? I would understand if you changed your mind. Meeting Vera made you think twice, I'm sure, no matter how much you deny it."

"We're only waiting for a cottage, Mister Bates," she contradicted him. "And the more you try to let me out of our engagement, the more you only succeed in making me doubt your own feelings."

"There can be no doubts there," he responded firmly as he took one of her hands in his, her perfect fingers dwarfed by his own.

Her eyes betrayed a lack of confidence in his declaration, so he leaned down to kiss her. Their lips brushed lightly, barely a hint of a kiss, before he moved to pull away. But Anna reached for him, putting her free hand to his chest. Her fingers hooked the lapel of his jacket, and she pulled him back. This time, she kissed him rather than the other way around, standing on her tip toes in order to reach him properly. Anna was not content with what he'd just offered her, so she sought out what she desired. Their mouths collided in a sudden fury of passion full of raw, aching need.

He needed her. God, how he needed her. The kiss could have lasted eternity and it would have still ended too soon. But even as they inched apart, Anna did not move from him, did not loose her hold. His breath came out in ragged gasps, and he struggled to contain himself. But she did things to him, the warmth of her body pressed against his. It was almost too much to endure.

"I love you, Anna Smith," he stated, unable to tear his eyes from hers. "Utterly and completely."

He waited for her to say the words back, to reassure him of her own feelings, that he was doing the right thing. Somehow, he needed to hear her say it to assuage his own fears raging within.

Instead, she said simply, "Then marry me, Mister Bates."

TBC