My dear Edith,
How are you? That seems an odd way to begin a letter, my first to you in all these years, but how else ought I to start? How is Elinor, and Anthony, of course?
I hope you are all well, and happy, and safe. I miss you. I want to see you all. I know that you refused when your father asked last, but I would be happier than words could say if you agreed this time.
You could come to Downton, my dear, or I could come to London. I want to make things right, Edith. Please let me.
Your loving mother
Edith read the letter through briskly, twice, and then it let it fall from her hand to the desk in front of her. She ought to have known this would happen, eventually. And Mama knew exactly how to get underneath her skin. Irritably, Edith pushed herself away from the desk and went downstairs.
Anthony looked at his wife over the breakfast table as she toyed with her porridge. She had been in another world for half of the last week so far and it was starting to worry him. So it was a great relief when she eventually looked up and asked, "Anthony?"
"Hmm, m'dear?" he replied, fixing an expression of poilte interest on his face, lest any hint of eagerness alarm her.
"Might we… go home for a few days?"
Her husband paused, knife poised halfway between the marmalade jar and his toast, and gave her a bemused look. "Darling, we are home."
"No." She gave a little smile. "No, I mean… home to Yorkshire. To Locksley."
Anthony's eyes widened. Truly, it was the last thing he had been expecting. "If you wish. Why the sudden change?"
Edith swallowed. "I… I want to prove to myself that I'm not a coward."
"Is this about your parents?" Anthony asked seriously.
"Yes," Edith whispered. It sounded half like a question.
He set down his knife on his plate with an impatient clatter. "You have nothing to prove, Edith. Downton… it's filled with bad memories for you. You don't have to - "
"But I do," she interrupted him calmly. "I had a letter from Mama this morning. And another one last week that - that I didn't tell you about. She… wants to see me."
"Let her 'want' all she likes," he grunted almost irritably, spreading marmalade on his toast.
"I can't, Anthony. I… I don't want to spend the rest of my life in bitterness and hate. I want to… make my peace with them. I want Elinor to have grandparents, imperfect as they are. I want us to feel as if we can go to Locksley, whenever we want, without this… this shadow hanging over our life. And Mama… none of this is really her fault, Anthony. It was Papa, most of it." Her voice shook. "She's already lost one daughter. I - I almost know how that feels, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone."
"It's still more than they deserve," Anthony scowled.
"Probably," Edith acknowledged. She shrugged, a little wryly. "I'm not going to stand for any nonsense, don't worry. This… whatever arrangement we make… it will be on my -" (she reached out and squeezed his hand) "- our - terms."
He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Devilish glad to hear it, m'dear."
She paused. "If you'd prefer not to come with us…"
He snorted, hand tightening on hers. "Don't be ridiculous. If you want my support, I'll be there." Always, he added silently.
"Thank you." Releasing his hand, she smiled. "Mama isn't the only reason," she consoled him. "I'd so like to show Locksley to Elinor…"
"Well, in that case, I'd be delighted to escort you. I always think the old place's at its very prettiest in September, don't you?"
"Exactly," she agreed, relieved.
Anthony hesitated, focusing on cutting his toast in half. "Are you… sure you'll be quite comfortable? You needn't feel as if we must go right now, if you aren't ready…"
"No. I am." She bit her lip. "I will be, by the time we get there," she corrected. "Anyway, how could I be uncomfortable at Locksley - anywhere, really - when I have you with me?"
"If you really insist - " Anthony smiled, amused
"And I do," Edith interrupted firmly.
" - then we'll say no more about it," Anthony finished.
"Good. That's settled, then. I'll write to Downton this morning."