This one is shorter than usual but it did what I needed it to do. Thanks to everyone who continues to read along and especially those who leave comments. It makes things so much more fun when we writers feel that others are enjoying our little adventures too.
Months passed. In that time they celebrated Emma's birthday and their first anniversary. Life was idyllic as far as Anthony was concerned. The estate was shaping up nicely after his long neglect and Edith was blossoming into a confident mistress of the house. She continued writing, contributing articles to various publications and was enjoying reasonable success. Emma was blossoming as well. The process for her adoption was nearing an end with a meeting scheduled in York later in the month before a magistrate. She was old enough to begin her formal education and Edith and Anthony were discussing the best options. Little Abigail was flourishing, looking more like her mother as each day passed. She was proving to have an easy, even bubbly personality and often entertained them with her smiles and in recent days, her infectious laughter. All vestiges of the haunted man that had left Edith standing at the altar several years before were gone. Instead, when Anthony looked in the mirror, he saw a very contented, happy man who looked younger than his years and had a new energy about him. Yes, life was good indeed.
Early in the Spring, Anthony was in his library reading one of the London papers, when he tossed it onto his desk in disgust. Edith saw his frustration. "Bad news?"
Anthony ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Yes…no…it's just…more trouble brewing in Germany. We've not heard the last from them, I'm afraid."
"Surely they wouldn't be so foolish as to start another war?"
"Many have predicted it since the Armistice. The treaty was far too harsh, crippling them with reparations and the loss of valued regions. But it appears to be even worse than predicted. And the Chamberlains are not helping, jumping in with their eyes closed, believing what Stresemann and his ilk are saying. Meanwhile the Germans are finding ways around many of the provisions of the treaty, building their military again. Trouble is coming, probably not for a few years but it is coming."
"Oh Anthony," Edith sighed. "I don't fear for us so much but what of our children…what about George?"
"George will be called upon to follow his father's footsteps into France, I fear; as will all the young men of his generation. I don't know how we can survive another generation of our very best lost to war."
Edith frowned, her hands smoothing over her stomach. "Then I hope…"
"Hope what, my darling?"
Edith looked at him through glistening eyes. "I hope this little bun you've put in the oven is another girl."
"What? Bun?" Anthony asked in confusion.
Edith smiled shyly and patted her abdomen. "You're going to be a PaPa, Anthony."
Anthony was suddenly at attention, sitting stiffly in his chair, his mouth agape. "You…" His eyes flicked to where her hands rested on her middle, his brow lifting as realization landed squarely in his chest. "You're pregnant?"
Edith simply nodded, smiling as a tear trickled out of her eyes. "Dr. Clarkson confirmed it this morning; seems we'll be harvesting a little Strallan along with the rest of the crops."
Anthony trembled with excitement. "You're certain? I mean, I know you're certain…Dr. Clarkson confirmed it but…really?" He was beside her, kneeling, his hand covering hers instantly.
"Yes my darling, the doctor and I are quite certain. I know you were planning another journey for us this summer but I think I'd rather spend those months here, preparing a little nest for our new little one."
"Of course; whatever you want," he agreed, as his eyes settled on her non existent baby bump. "Everything shall be as it should this time around," he declared. "No hiding away or avoiding people. We are going to celebrate properly…every moment!"
Edith lifted a hand to run it through his hair, brushing back the errant locks that tended to fall into his face. "I hope that if it is a boy, he will have your hair. I've dreamed of a floppy haired little boy of my own for so very long."
"You have?" Anthony asked softly, his eyes shining with delight.
Yes, ever since that summer…when you took me for long rides in your car. I think I knew on that first ride that I wanted your babies. I can't wait to look into a soft little blanket and see your eyes looking back at me."
"Oh god Edith, you make me so happy; so very happy," he whispered as he nuzzled against her. "I never believed I could be this happy."
Spring warmed into summer; they were happy months for the inhabitants of Locksley. A governess had been hired for Emma's lessons while Philpot continued to care for Abigail and help with preparations for the coming addition. Moffett let out Edith's clothes where she could and new ones were ordered when she couldn't. Stewart helped Anthony oversee the workmen who were hired to prepare the room next to the existing nursery. A doorway was put n between the two rooms, so that Philpot could watch over both babies easily.
The Crawleys had accepted the news with excitement. Cora and even Isobel delighted in listening to Edith's plans for the new nursery while Robert eyed his oldest son-in-law with envy. While he was delighted with George as his heir and his relations with Cora were anything but lacking, he couldn't help but envy Anthony's chance at a son as it was the one happiness in life that had been denied him. Anthony's impending fatherhood reminded him that he was still probably capable of producing a son, but not with Cora. His wife reminded him in a very satisfying manner later the same evening that creating a baby with anyone else was unthinkable and consequently, he threw himself into the excitement of another grandchild. It was a golden summer.
