Easier to talk about the carpet
Edith knew when Jenny poked her head reluctantly around the door to the library that she wasn't going to like what she had to say. She was not, however, at all surprised.
"I suppose you can let her in," she replied to Jenny's unspoken question. "Knowing her, she'll just come back everyday until I agree to talk to her."
"Alright then. If you're sure…"
Edith waved her hand aimlessly in the direction of the door. "I can never be sure, but I can certainly learn from experience. Go ahead, Jenny. Let's get this over with. Best to do it while Anthony is out."
Jenny turned slowly, as if to give her a chance to change her mind, then headed off down the corridor. Edith contemplated shoes dropping and pennies turning up as she gently massaged her temples and did a spot of deep breathing.
The tall woman standing in the foyer was nearly vibrating with impatience and pique as Jenny leisurely strolled towards her. Clearly, it had taken all her restraint not to have barged in on her own.
"Lady Edith can see you, Lady Mary," Jenny informed her with no hint of welcome in her tone.
"I should hope so," Mary muttered as Jenny began escorting her to the library. Jenny's quick side eyed glare at her did not go unnoticed and bothered her more than she cared to admit to herself.
"Lady Mary Crawley to see you, Lady Edith," she announced formally, and unnecessarily. "Shall I bring in some tea?"
"Thank you, Jenny," Edith said with a sigh. She rolled her eyes as Jenny bobbed her head, ignored Mary entirely, and left after informing Edith that she would be right back in two shakes and would be taking on the dusting in the sitting room, if she was needed.
A tense silence descended immediately. Mary stood, as if waiting to be invited to sit, staring down at Edith who was still sitting at the desk in front of her laptop. Edith glanced up at her for a moment, then turned her attention back to the screen.
"You're a bit late on it," she said as her fingers typed blindly. "I rather expected you last week."
"Mother thought you needed more time."
"She wasn't wrong. But I knew you'd be along eventually. You never could resist."
Mary huffed exasperatedly and dropped into a near by chair without her usual elegant poise. Edith looked over at the squeak of the springs.
"I'm clearly persona non grata around here," Mary began, "and I can certainly understand why—"
"Can you?" Edith inquired with an insouciance she really didn't feel.
"Yes. I can." Mary said flatly.
Edith was saved responding as Jenny arrived at that moment with the tea and biscuits on a tray. She bustled around for a moment, surreptitiously taking in the atmosphere. Neither sister spoke while she worked until Edith thanked her.
"Quite welcome," Jenny replied quietly, cutting her eyes towards Mary and raising an eyebrow at Edith.
"Everything's fine," Edith assured her. Jenny patted her hand and left without another word.
The business of pouring out two cups and selecting a few biscuits occurred in a silence that begged to be broken. Edith closed her laptop, resolutely not looking at the gibberish that had appeared on her screen while her sister had stood over her, and turned from the desk to watch Mary settle back into a chair more suited for lounging with a book than for formally taking tea.
"Would you prefer to move to the sitting room?" Edith asked as she watched Mary balance her cup and saucer. She was reminded of her sister's snide comments to her when she'd attempted to help Anthony with his tea at their parent's house two weeks earlier. If Mary managed to dump her tea all over her rather expensive silk shirt, Edith doubted she'd find too much sympathy in her heart.
"I believe your Bull Mastiff intends on working in the sitting room," Mary replied, concentrating on settling herself. When she looked back up and saw the anger on Edith's face, she hastened to add: "I only meant that she was protective."
"She's very protective, and she doesn't pull punches."
"Is that meant to be a threat, or a warning?" Mary responded, looking into her tea cup as she slowly stirred.
"It's meant to be whichever you require," Edith said firmly. "Rest assured, if Jenny wants you out, the only question remaining will be if she puts you out on your feet, or on your arse."
Mary raised her eyebrows skeptically until she met Edith's eyes. With a sigh, she settled herself more comfortably in the chair.
"I have no intention of making anyone forcibly remove me from the premises. I'll leave right now, if that's what you want."
Edith watched her warily, waiting for the flash of condescension in her sister's eyes. She was so accustomed to seeing it, it's lack threw her for a moment. While not losing the natural arrogance that she carried, she seemed…resigned.
"Why don't you tell me why you dropped by today," Edith encouraged, unable to resist adding: "Without calling first."
Mary shrugged and smirked a little. "I doubted you'd take my call and I despise voice mail."
"Then why come at all?"
"I had to, Edith. I…I couldn't just leave things the way they were." At Edith's lack of a response, Mary took a deep breath and set her cup down in order to clasp her hands in her lap. She kept her gaze on a darker spot on the carpet that looked like coffee compared to the other lightly less dark spots that Mary guessed were tea. Or maybe Scotch. "Is Anthony planning on replacing this carpet anytime soon, do you think?"
"What? What the bloody hell does the carpet have to…? You came out here to discuss home decorating with me?" Edith could feel anger beginning to rise into the back of her throat and she gripped her fingers together anxiously.
"No…no, of course I didn't. I was distracted is all," Mary replied, looking up at Edith earnestly. "It was easier to mention the carpet than to just start talking about…you know, about everything that—"
"Easier to talk about the carpet than about the fact that your sister was a prostitute in the Baltics? Yeah…I imagine so," Edith broke in, feeling a certain satisfaction in the wince that flew across Mary's face.
Mary composed herself and took a sip of her tea. "Yes…that. Although I suspect its harder for you to talk about than for me."
"Not for the first time, you'd be wrong," Edith informed her with a sigh. "Having lived it, worked through it in counseling, and spoken about it to the people I should love best rather frequently of late, it's becoming…I wouldn't say easier…depressingly routine, perhaps?"
"God, how could it?"
"Well, not talking about it won't make it not have happened. Neither will talking about it…" Edith stared across the room pensively as Mary listened intently. "There's no right or wrong way to react to this, Mary. For you or for me. I think…." Edith redirected her glance at Mary and looked into her eyes. "I think I'm at a place where I talk about it when I need to talk about it. And that's a better place than I've ever been in before so…progress I suppose."
"And you need us to listen?"
Edith laughed. "Not really. It wouldn't matter if you listened or not. I'm still not entirely sure if any of you actually did."
Brow knit, Mary opened her mouth to refute Edith's statement, then shut it again. biting her lip. Edith watched with some amusement as her sister struggled not to respond.
"That's very good," Edith said into Mary's reluctant silence. "I honestly wouldn't have thought you had it in you not to jump right in on that."
Anger flashed in Mary's eyes for a second and she huffed irritably. Edith watched her with a comfortable, little smile. They pondered each other for a moment, then something unpleasant seemed to dawn on Mary's face.
"You're trying to bait me," Mary said quietly.
Edith raised her eyebrows at the lack of accusation in Mary's voice. "Maybe I am."
"Why?"
Edith paused for a long moment and fiddled with the handle on her tea cup. Mary waited almost patiently for a response. Edith sighed and her shoulders slumped.
"Because that's where we're most comfortable, Mary. You up on your pedestal and me trying gamely to knock you off of it." At Mary's astonished expression, she added: "Isn't that who we are? I'm not sure how to act if you're not up there, blocking out the light, putting me in my proper place. And you certainly aren't comfortable down here with me where everything always goes wrong…"
"Edith—"
"You can't say that I'm wrong, Mary," she insisted.
"Then I won't say that," Mary replied with a calmness that made Edith look up at her warily, wondering if Mary was simply humoring her.
"Maybe you're right," Mary admitted, her eyes skittering away from Edith's suspicious stare. "I'm rather ashamed to say I haven't put a lot of thought into why we've never gotten along. It just always was that way. And…" she stole a glance at her sister, "it never seemed to inconvenience me overly much."
Edith nodded firmly in agreement, causing Mary's lips to quirk up at the corners. Both took that moment to take a sip of tea. The far away ringing of the telephone was cut off and Jenny's efficient, muffled tones could be heard from the sitting room. Edith watched as Mary seemed to come to decision and placed her tea cup back onto the tray. As she folded her hands and sat up as straight as the overstuffed chair would allow, Edith braced herself to hear whatever Mary thought she ought to say.
"You're right about one thing…I'm not comfortable down where everything goes wrong," Mary informed her dryly. "But that bit about me putting you in your proper place—"
Edith's eyes narrowed, and she felt she was almost crouching in her chair, waiting to spring on the next thing to come out of her sister's mouth. Just let her try to deny it…
"—and I'm not saying you're wrong about that either," Mary continued, oblivious to the tension coiled in Edith's shaking hands gripping the arms of her chair, "but in this case…what happened to you…" Mary's voice began to quiver, "nothing about this is your proper place."
A wave of anger swept over Edith. She felt an overwhelming urge to chuck her tea cup straight at her sister's head. A vision of the ceramic exploding off of her forehead, leaving a mess of bleeding slashes and bruised skull behind, filled her eyes for a second.
She'd be too surprised to duck. It wouldn't even go as deep or as damaging as all the words she's slung at me my entire life.
Instead of hurling her cup, Edith said through clenched jaw: "And what would be my proper place then, Mary?"
"I don't—"
"Clearly, everything I've gone through has disturbed your order, knocked you off of your pedestal momentarily. If its not my proper place, then what would be? What would set things right in your world again?"
"You're the one who said you've always wanted me off my pedestal," Mary snapped. "I'm well and truly knocked off now—"
"I can assure you that nothing I've gone through was intended to do anything to you, Mary—"
"Of course it wasn't! That wasn't what I said and not what I meant…" Mary trailed off and covered her face with her hand, taking deep breaths. Edith sat back in her chair and tried to force her spine to loosen enough for her to roll her shoulders.
"I'm not comfortable down here," Mary spoke through her hand over her mouth, "I'm horrible and terrified of it, in fact."
"Join the bloody club," Edith muttered darkly. Mary's eyes flew to hers.
"But that's just it," Mary replied. "It's not a club I want to join…it's not even a club I want to know about…" Mary's voice hitched and she looked away from Edith's gaze. "And Matthew even said…"
"What did he say?" Edith prompted when she couldn't finish.
"He said…After you'd left the house - after you'd told us everything and left with Anthony - I couldn't stay there and listen to Papa ranting. I made Matthew leave with me. He didn't want to go immediately…he wanted to do something…something legal I suppose…and was trying to get Papa to see some sense—"
"He is a solicitor," Edith commented quietly. "I suppose that's always his go-to response."
"Of course, but I made him leave because I just couldn't take it in. I couldn't bear listening to it be rehashed out again. And Matthew listened to me rage crying all the way home, complaining about how horrible the situation was, and he said…he said…" Mary took a deep breath and stared over Edith's shoulder, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to drip from the corner of her eyes.
"He said that he wished he could believe that my tears were for you and not for myself."
Edith sat stunned as Mary gave up the effort to hold back her tears.
"And you know what?" she continued with a gasp. "Right then…right at that moment…I had no answer for him."
"Do you have one now?" Edith demanded.
"I know that I want to be crying for you," Mary replied, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater.
Edith wondered if she'd seen Mary do something so socially improper since they were in the nursery. It had always been her who had ugly cried, hiding her face in her shirts or sweaters, wiping snot on the back of her hand. It had always been her who couldn't control her emotions in public, who had been an easy target for an embarrassing break down. She shook her head and listened to Mary's stifled sobs.
"You're right," she finally said as Mary tried to get back under control. "Talking about the carpet would have been a lot easier."
Mary gave a strangled bark of laughter and lifted her eyes to look into Edith's. They stared at one another uncomfortably; neither moved to break into the extended silence.
The bolt of pain that went through his fingers on his left hand as it tightened on the steering wheel of his Rover forced Anthony to release his white knuckle grip and breathe deeply. As the familiar country scenery flew by through his windscreen, he let off on the gas pedal to allow the car to slow to a more reasonable speed.
I HAD to go to bloody London today, so of course her sister shows up. Bloody, fucking hell—
His thought broke away as the turn on to his property came up alarmingly quickly. As he yanked on the wheel to steer through through the hedges bordering his drive, he shuddered at the screech of branches against the passenger side of the car.
"Edith will never let me hear the end of that," he muttered to himself, hoping the damage wasn't as visible as it sounded like it might be. For a moment, he smiled as he pictured her lovely expression, reserved for him, that wavered between smug and exasperated.
Then he remembered what Jenny had told him when he called to let her know he had arrived early back from town and his smile slipped away. Glancing at the passenger seat at the splint he really should have been wearing, he brought the car to a gentle stop in front of the house, killed the ignition, and took several deep breaths.
"Temper temper, Strallen," he said quietly, barely audible over the ticking of the engine. "Let's not have a repeat of the bloody boathouse… of course, no one would have any difficulty believing I punched Lady Mary Crawley, if it came to that…"
The sudden, sharp rapping on his window made him jerk towards the center console, causing his seatbelt to tighten painfully across his shoulder. He whipped his head around to see the impatient, agitated face of his housekeeper. Once she saw she had his attention, she folded her arms and glared at him through the glass.
"Are you just going to sit in the drive until that woman goes home?" she demanded, the stridency of her voice blessedly muffled through the closed window.
With a sigh, Anthony unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. Jenny moved just enough to allow him to unfold his long frame from the seat and stand next to the car.
"Is Edith alright?" he asked as he opened the rear passenger door and leaned in to get his briefcase.
"What do you think? Oh…just leave it!" she snapped, grabbing the bag from his unresisting hand. "I'll take this and garage the car. You just get inside and be there if she needs you."
The corner of Anthony's mouth turned up in a grateful little smile as Jenny shooed him towards the front door, snatching his keys from his fingers. He stopped in the doorway and turned back.
"Where…?"
"Library," Jenny interrupted.
Anthony strode quickly through the entry and down the corridor towards the library. Listening at the door for a moment, he heard low talking, but no obvious sounds of distress or anger. He lifted his hand to knock, then scoffed at himself and turned the doorknob.
The women turned to look at the door in surprise when it swung open without warning. Mary's eyebrows flew up when she saw him standing in the doorway, eyes riveted on Edith, a crooked little smile on his lips. He barely acknowledged her presence.
"What are you doing home so early?" Edith asked in confusion. "I wasn't expecting you for hours."
"Shall I make myself scarce?" he asked, strolling into the library to stand next to her chair.
"Of course not," she scolded with a smile, looking up at his looming face. "Don't be silly."
Anthony beamed at her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She reached up to cover it with her own, then frowned.
"Anthony…where is your splint?"
A grimace flew across his face before he could stop it. "Ah…well, it was bloody difficult to drive with it—"
"So you took it off and left it in the car? In spite of what Dr. Clarkson told you?"
Mary rolled her eyes at this exchange. Anthony glanced at her, then dismissed her.
"Dr. Clarkson is overly cautious," he opined, ignoring the discomfort remaining from gripping the steering wheel of the car too tightly.
"I suppose I should be going now, Edith," Mary said with a sigh before Edith could respond tartly to Anthony's statement. Edith gave Anthony a look that said they weren't done with the conversation and turned her attention to her sister.
"Must you?" Anthony asked in a level, less than enthusiastic tone before Edith could respond.
"Oh, I think I must, Sir Anthony," Mary replied formally.
"Well…if you must…"
Edith began to laugh, causing them both to stare at her. At their perplexed expressions, she covered her mouth and tried to stifle her giggles, but to no avail. As they continued to stare at her, she doubled over in her chair, laughing from the pit of her stomach, shaking her frame.
"Edith…?" Anthony began cautiously. "Are you alright?"
"Does she look alright?" Mary demanded sarcastically.
"I doubt you would know in any case," he replied dismissively.
High spots of color appeared on Mary's cheekbones as she stood up, crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at him. Anthony lost his expression of mildly contemptuous, patrician calm and glared back at her. Edith took one look at the both of them, faced off for all the world like ruffled mutts over a rubbish bin and went off into another gale of laughter.
"If..if you could just…if you could just see yourselves," she gasped between snorts of laughter. "You're absolutely…bloody…ridiculous."
Anthony immediately knelt by her chair and took her hands in his. "Edith…darling—"
"Mary glaring at you like you've ruined her best dress at a undergrad drinks bash…" she went on through her chuckles.
"I'd suppose I'd really better be going then," Mary said stiffly.
"And you, giving her this..this COMMAND glare, like you're putting her on endless punishment fatigues for destroying something big and expensive," she continued, squeezing Anthony's hands.
"Um…I suppose I was a little short," he replied a bit sheepishly, stealing a look at Mary.
"And the both of you so dryly formal, like the sticks up your arses have been set in cement whenever you're in the same room," she finished with a little gasp.
"I'm sorry if—" Mary began.
"Oh, don't apologize," Edith interrupted. "I enjoyed that."
"I'm glad we could provide you with some amusement," Anthony said dryly, smiling at her as he levered himself back onto his feet. "My apologies for being a less than hospitable host, Mary."
"Understandable, under the circumstances, I should think," Mary replied.
Neither of their voices were particularly gracious, but Edith gave them both a satisfied glance. She caught sight of Jenny hovering just outside the open door, stifling her own laughter, and tipped her a wink.
After Anthony issued a somewhat reluctant invitation to return, Mary turned to Edith and gently touched her arm.
"Thank you for letting it be all about me, Edith."
"That's what it had to be, Mary," she said with a shrug and a smile.
Mary returned the smile, patted Edith's arm,and followed Jenny out with a nod towards Anthony. Edith moved to stand next to Anthony as they watched her go, sliding up under his arm.
"So," he said, looking down at her once the door was shut firmly after her sister, "that went well, then?"
"Oh, shut up," she said affectionately, hugging him.
"By the way…I do not have a stick up my arse."
Edith looked at him in amused disbelief. "I could have used you both as a Punch and Judy show."
"Mary, maybe—"
"Both of you," she said firmly, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. He obligingly bent down to kiss her lightly. Then slightly less lightly.
"Doesn't seem to put you off, that stick," he murmured against her lips.
"Your other qualities redeem you."
"Such as?"
"You run very good baths…"
He'd lit candles, stammering a bit when she stopped at the door of the bathroom and looked around in amused wonder. After listening to him mumble something about ambience, she placed her finger firmly on his lips and told him to get undressed.
"It's your bath," he demurred. "I take up the whole bloody tub."
Edith sighed and pulled her shirt off over her head. "I know very well how much you fill up a tub, Anthony. Now get undressed before I do it for you."
"That's not much a threat, Edith," he replied with a grin, watching her undo the button on her slacks and begin to shimmy out of them. "Please don't throw me in that briar patch."
"Do I need to rip your shirt off?"
"Maybe."
Smiling broadly, Edith unclasped and dropped her bra to the floor before stepping up to Anthony and grasping the front of his shirt. Anthony gazed down at her breasts and moistened his suddenly dry lips. He barely noticed the tugging as Edith hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt.
"I thought you were going to rip it off," he said horsely as she took a moment to run her hands slowly over his chest before pushing the shirt off of his shoulders.
"Too violent," she murmured, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. His unbutton sleeves caught at his wrists, preventing him from lifting his hands up far enough to touch her. At his frustrated growl, she grinned and lightly nipped his throat.
"Gah! I can't…Dammit, Edith! My arms are stuck."
"That puts you at my mercy then, doesn't it," she whispered as she rose on her tiptoes to drop kisses along his jaw.
"I'm always at your mercy, Edith," he groaned. "I'd just like to…to touch you." He turned his head to look into her dark eyes. "Can I touch you?"
"You can always touch me, Anthony," she whispered, staring back at him. Not breaking eye contact, she ran her hands down his arms and deftly unbuttoned his cuffs. Before he could bring his eager hands up to her breasts, she stepped back and gave him a cheeky smile as she pushed her knickers over her hips and allowed them to fall to her ankles.
"But you'll have to get in here with me to do it," she continued, stepping into the tub and hissing at the heat.
Anthony watched the pink color spread across her body as the steam from the tub surrounded her and she lowered herself slowly into the water with a deep sigh. He fumbled with his trousers and shorts, never looking away from her. Kicking them to one side, he hurried over to the side of the tub.
Edith looked him over, slowly dragging her eyes down from his face, over his chest where sweat had begun to shine in the flickering candlelight, and down to his obvious arousal. Slowly reaching out her hand, she dribbled water from her fingertips over his erection. Anthony immediately began clambering into the tub, pausing when her seductive expression dissolved into a desperate twisting of her lips to avoid a swift bark of laughter.
"Socks, darling," she reminded him, chuckling as his eyes dropped to his feet and his ears flushed red.
Balancing awkwardly, Anthony stripped the socks from his feet and violently heaved them across the bathroom. He stepped into the tub behind her and sat down with a splash and a distinctly grumpy mutter.
"Killed that mood."
"Not at all," she contradicted, sliding back to rest against his chest as he stretched his legs awkwardly around hers. "I love how we are together."
"I do too. But I wish I was less of a prat about it," he said, fiddling with a lock of her damp hair and kissing her head.
"It's endearing," she replied, patting his thigh soothingly. "Most of the time…"
Anthony didn't respond, as her hand had moved from patting his thigh to smoothly running up and down it. She reached back and rested her other hand on the back of his neck, wiggling charmingly against him as she did so. His hands crept around her to rest lightly on her belly. They soaked in silence.
"I used to dream about this," Anthony said quietly. "Just sitting in the tub with you, holding you in the warm water. I'd wake up in the facility, and for just a moment, I'd still feel your wet body against mine and I wouldn't even think about how much I needed the drugs."
"I wouldn't allow myself to dream about you," Edith responded after a moment. "Not when I had to wake up to another man rutting and grunting on top of me. It might have given me some hope if I had, and I couldn't afford any."
Anthony gently tightened his arms around her and hoped that she assumed his silent tears were just water droplets running down his face onto her head. He nuzzled his face into her hair as her hand at the back of his neck pulled him closer.
"Now I don't have to dream," she murmured. "Because you're right here, and I'm right here. And I never want to move from this spot."
"Then don't," he said in a choked voice. "Please don't. Stay right here…with me."
"We'll get cold eventually."
"I'll add more hot water."
"The tub will overflow."
"I don't care."
"Jenny will."
"If she comes in here, she's fired."
Edith laughed softly and readjusted her body against his with a splash. She twisted half way around to look into his damp but smiling eyes.
"I'd like to stay," she said.
"Registrar or Church?"
"What kind of question is that? Is that a proposal? You call that a proposal?" she demanded with delighted indignation.
"I could kneel, I suppose," he said, beginning to thrash around as if he was going to lever himself up to his knees. "Probably ought to do the thing properly."
"Don't you dare!" Edith scolded with a laugh. "With your luck, you'd slip and break something else. And you did it properly last time, even if the follow through wasn't perfect."
"New start, new proposal," he replied, still making an effort to adjust himself.
Edith pushed him firmly back down into the tub, slid onto his lap with her knees tucked under his arms, and kissed him deeply. Anthony ran his hands down her back to cup her bum and pull her against him.
"Registrar," she said with a gasp when she finally broke the kiss. "It's faster, and we've got time to make up."
"I love you," he moaned as she adjusted on his lap and slid her hand down between them until she grasped his erection lightly. "I'll book us an appointment tomorrow. We're staying in this tub for several hours at least."
"Better tell Jenny to wait dinner," she replied, leaning forward to bite his earlobe and slide down onto him.
"She'll figure it out…"
