At long last Edith was alone in her room at Downton. She put Sir Anthony's letter down at the table. She had longed to open it and read it, but now she was only scared. She sat down in front of the table, burying her face in her hands.

But no! She couldn't let him affect her like this! She just wanted him out of her life.

She fiddled with the thought of throwing the letter into the fireplace. And if her mother hadn't seen it, she would perhaps have done that. But she knew Cora was bound to ask her about it later on.

So she opened the letter and started to read.

Dear Lady Edith.

I'm sorry if I offended you. I have no right to reproach you after what I did to you.

That was true. She was glad he realised that himself.

You told me not to apologise for what happened in church, but at least I have to ask you to forgive me for how I treated you last time I saw you.

What he had said about denying one's child had really hurt her. Hopefully he didn't know why, but he had no right to say things like that even if he thought she was married. It was good that he regretted saying it, it was good but it was only right.

Please come back and give me a chance to do that! There is a pile of books waiting for you, I hope that you still want to borrow them.

The books, yes. She still needed them. But she doubted that she would ever be able to write an article about the pig-of-the-year winner. It was impossible to write about Sir Brumble without mentioning Locksley and its pig-breeding traditions.

Besides, borrowing those books meant going to see Anthony not only once but twice, and she didn't know if she was up to that.

It was a pity, really, because all her pictures had turned out very well, both the pictures of the small pigs and those of the bigger pigs.

There is another thing I need to discuss with you. It is too important to write about in a letter. So, please, Edith, come and see me again! You are welcome any time you choose, I'm almost always at home or at least somewhere out on the estate.

Another thing? Too important to write about? What on earth could that be? Probably something to do with pigs, some pig-breeding secret that he didn't want to be known outside Locksley.

There the letter ended, all that was left was his signature.

What on earth could Anthony have meant by sending her a letter like that?

...

An hour later, when Edith was dressing for dinner, Cora came to see her.

"Well, I think it's upon time that someone tells you what has happened to Sir Anthony since he left you at church", Cora said. "He never goes outside his estate. He refuses all invitations, even from the Jarvises, who have been friends of the Strallans for generations."

Anthony's letter had filled Edith with a lot of disturbing feelings. Mostly bad, but also some good. She could as well show the letter to her mother, she already knew that she had it anyway.

"I have to ask you to forgive me for how I treated you last time I saw you", Cora read out loud. "So you have seen him again? How come?"

Edith gave Cora a short account of how they had met at the pig fair. How Anthony had seen her with Tim and Alice and jumped to the conclusion that they were a small family. How Anthony's pigs had won the competition and how she had asked Anthony's pig man for an interview with the owner. How shocked both herself and Anthony had been at seeing each other again.

This was the easy part. It was harder to explain, even to herself, why she had wanted to go to Locksley and meet Anthony again. But she got the photographs out, and showed Cora the pictures of Sir Brumble and White Beauty and their many piglets.

"I wanted to take some photographs for the Sketch", she said. "That is all. Except that he said something that offended me. I don't want to repeat it, but you can see that he regrets it."

"I see", Cora said. Then she continued reading the letter.

"I think he wants you back", Cora said when she was finished.

"No, he can't mean anything like that. That letter is so totally unromantic!"

"Well, I guess it is impossible any way, because of Gregson. You want him back. So let's not argue about it."

"Michael has nothing to do with it. He is gone. Even if he came back I don't love him any longer. I would rather die than marry him."

"Oh!" Cora was taken aback by Edith's intensity. "Well, in that case - what do you think about Sir Anthony?"

"He has hurt me more than any other man", Edith whispered. "But he wouldn't have been able to hurt me so much if I hadn't loved him so much. And now when I met him again I realised I still love him."

"Oh, I see!" Cora said. "Well, perhaps he can be the answer to all your problems. If you get married to him you can take Alice there as your daughter. No one cares very much if a child is born a little too early once the parents are married. The gossip would die out very quickly."

"No, I don't want him to be able to hurt me again!"

"He is a good, decent man", Cora said, suddenly realising that she was repeating what she had said about Sir Anthony to Mary ten years earlier. She always seemed to be trying to persuade one of her daughters to marry Sir Anthony Strallan.

"How can you call him that after what he did to me?" Edith wondered.

"I'm sure there were others behind that. You didn't hear what your granny said to Travis while we were waiting in church for you, but I did. And probably Anthony heard it too."

"What did Granny say then?"

"Well, first she said that he looked like he was waiting for a beating by the headmaster."

"What!"

"He looked worried, no doubt about it. But wait, the worst is yet to come. Travis asked if he should try to reassure him. But your granny said that he had been married before and ought to know all the facts."

"Well, he has, hasn't he. I don't find that too bad."

"No, but then Travis said that the late Lady Strallan was perhaps a difficult act to follow. And your grandma said that she was perhaps a difficult act to repeat."

Edith was dumbstruck. How could her Granny be so cruel!

"You know your Granny never liked Maud", Cora added. "She was too smart for your Granny's taste. Or perhaps you don't remember that, you were only a child when she died."

Poor, poor Anthony! Edith thought. Hearing his darling Maud being joked about in that way, no wonder he hadn't been able to go through with the wedding...

Horrible as this was, it was also a great relief to Edith. Anthony hadn't left her because he was fed up with her, he had left her because he didn't want her to be mocked for marrying him. The poor darling, how wrong he had been. They would have proved to every one how much they loved each other as soon as Edith was expecting their first baby.

"I'm glad you told me", Edith at last managed to say. "But why do you think he wants me back?"

"Well, he says he has something important to discuss that he can't put in a letter. It is probably a proposal or something like that. I'm sure he has found out about Alice, and that you aren't really married. If you love him I think you ought to go there and see what he has to say."

Edith wasn't really convinced, after all she knew Anthony better than her mother did. But she still decided to go and see him, but not one of the next few days. Tomorrow she had to start writing an article to the Sketch, and she hadn't even decided what she should write about yet. The day after that she was going to see Alice, and after that she would hopefully be able to finish the article.

But perhaps it was as good that she was given a couple of days to think things over.

...

As the days went by with no sign of Edith Sir Anthony regretted more and more that he had sent that letter.

Argyll had assured him that Edith had got the letter a couple of days before, Lisa had told Jane so. What had Edith thought of it? Perhaps that he should just go away and mind his own business.

He was feeling worried and restless. He just couldn't stay in his library, waiting for someone who never came. So he went out for a walk.

As so often before he went in the direction of Locksley's sties. There was something soothing about pigs, he thought. So Sir Anthony decided to go and scratch Sir Brumble or one of the other pigs behind its ear.

...

Sir Brumble had mounted more sows in his life than he could count - his counting abilities stopped somewhere around twenty. But the thought of being with Golden Blossom still managed to make him feel nervous.

She had been one of the first sows he was mating with, the third one in fact. He had been waiting in the breeding pen, full of happy expectations now that he knew what this was all about, wondering what sow Norton would bring to him this time.

Then the door of the pen was opened and the most stunning sow was let in.

She was very big, quite a bit bigger than he was himself, but his first sow had also been big and he had managed that alright. And enjoyed it very much.

But this sow - she had made him feel inadequate. She gave him one contemptuous look, as if she wondered why Norton had left a piglet in the breeding pen. Then she looked searchingly around the pen, apparently looking for the boar that was supposed to be in there. After that she heaved a big sigh and immediately placed herself in front of Sir Brumble's little snout. She was so close that he had to back away. And she didn't even bother to put her hind legs out to steady herself, it was like she felt he was so small that it wasn't needed.

Sir Brumble wondered now how he had been able to climb her and claim her that day. If she had been less fat and attractive he would perhaps have failed to do so. But he had done it and it had been delicious, she was so lovely to have, in spite of her obvious contempt.

To this very day he could remember that triumphant feeling of mounting and possessing a sow as big as that. He sometimes regretted that he would never be able to do that again, since all sows were smaller than him by now. He sometimes did it in his dreams, though, he was a small pig again, mounting Golden Blossom or some other gigantic sow. Those were wonderful dreams.

At least Golden Blossom had stood still that day and waited until he was finished and got down again. She could so easily have taken a few steps away and made him fall helplessly onto the ground.

The next day, when they met again, was just as bad. She hadn't been able to conceal her disappointment when she saw him. This time she put her back to him immediately, resigned to her fate, like she just wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

But he heard later that he had given her a big litter of very sturdy piglets, the biggest litter she had ever had. He was small, but he was good, quite able to beget good piglets. At least he hadn't disappointed her when it came to that.

Sir Brumble hoped he would get her again the next time she was ready to mate. He wanted her to desire him, not just accept him. He wanted her to long for her second day with him, like the other sows did. He knew she must have had other boars, probably more than one, but from now on he wanted her to be one of his sows and stay that way. He wanted to prove that she could be happy with him.

She was so beautiful and so contemptuous of him. She was such an irresistible challenge. He wanted to show her how good he was, and he didn't want any other boar ever to possess her again.

That had been exactly what had happened. Golden Blossom had been Sir Brumble's sow from that day on.

The next time they were put together in the breeding pen - by Argyll this time since Norton had left the estate - Sir Brumble was almost as big as Golden Blossom herself. He touched her gently with his snout, and she accepted it with grace if not with enthusiasm. Then she stood in front of him again. This time she had at least been putting her hind legs out and hunched her back at him. Wanting him to mount her, not only accepting it.

The next day she was even friendlier, greeting him with a happy grunt, puffing at him a couple of times with her snout before she turned her back on him. This time he felt she was really longing for him to climb her and it filled his heart with pride.

Perhaps it was so much better this time because she had liked the piglets he had given her. Perhaps it was because he was a bigger boar by now. Perhaps she was utterly charmed by him.

Whatever the reason, Sir Brumble felt that he had managed to conquer the only sow that had ever been indifferent to his attentions.

But still, to this very day, there was no other sow he was so anxious to please. He knew she enjoyed being with him and had stopped thinking about those other boars she had been with before. He was giving her all the boar she needed by now, and he was particularly proud about being able to give that to her.

But she still made him feel insecure in a way no other sow ever did.

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for all the kind comments!