Thank you for reading!

April 1920

Anna was leaving Lady Mary's room with a pile of linen in her arms when she was stopped by Lord Grantham calling her name. She turned and hurried toward him where he stood near the door of his room in his robe and slippers. Sometimes she found this master and servant relationship odd; such as now, when a man like his lordship, who wouldn't have taken off his jacket in the company of a woman ordinarily, was perfectly comfortable standing here in front of her in his nightclothes.

"Anna, I'm glad I've caught you. I wanted to ask you about Bates. You saw him yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yes, my lord." She smiled, thinking of her husband and the love and laughter in his eyes.

"I take it that smile means he is well?"

Anna hesitated.

"He is well, isn't he?" his lordship asked in concern. "Is there something we can do to ease his time there?"

"No, I don't think so, my lord. It's … it isn't easy for him, locked away there, but he's—" She broke off when his lordship held up a hand.

"Please, don't spout platitudes at me, Anna. I've known John Bates for a very long time, and he is as important to me as … he's very important to me. I want to know how he really is, not what you think you should tell me."

It was impossible to mistake his sincerity or his concern. "Very well, my lord." She thought for a moment how to phrase her answer. "He thinks too much."

Lord Grantham chuckled. "Yes, he always has. So he's staring at the walls and growing gloomy, is that it?"

"Yes. Physically he seems fine—they feed him enough, he's tired but not suffering from it. But … he gives up so easily." The words began to pour out; Anna had so few people to talk to, and she tried to maintain a composed front, but having someone standing here who cared for John as much as she did, someone who really wanted to hear—it was impossible to hold back her concerns entirely. "He worries so much about me and our marriage and about whether he deserves to be in prison, and he thinks it's impossible to believe he'll ever get out."

His lordship looked at her with sympathy and some pity. "It's very unlikely."

Anna was stung; must everyone insist on looking at things from the worst angle? "Possibly so, my lord, but where will that attitude get anyone? I have to believe there's a chance, I have to work toward it. If I stopped and just sat around thinking he would be there forever for something he didn't do, I couldn't … I couldn't get out of bed in the morning."

"I understand. A person needs a reason to get out of bed, don't they?" He sighed wearily. "Anything you need—days off, rides to the train station—whatever it is, you have it at your disposal. I hope you know that."

"Thank you, my lord. I do appreciate it."

"And if anything changes, if Bates needs anything …?"

"You'll be the first to know," Anna assured him. Embarrassed by her outburst, she wanted to go back about her work, and Lord Grantham seemed to recognize that.

He smiled at her, returning to his room, and Anna continued down the hall, her mind turning over ways to find the missing Mrs. Bartlett.