"Back again?" asked the cheerful nurse who came in to check on Mrs Dale. It was just half past twelve, and save for a trip away to fetch tea and visit the necessary, Edith had spent the day at her friend's bedside. She gave the nurse a weak, tight smile as she lifted Mrs Dale's rest to check her pulse. "I've never known anyone be so well cared for!"

"Mrs Dale is - is very precious to us," Edith murmured.

"Your husband said much the same thing when I came in this morning," smiled the nurse. "Very handsome chap you have there, if I may say so."

"Oh, he isn't - I mean…" Edith blushed furiously, but the nurse was distracted from asking further questions by the stirring of her patient.

"Ah, excellent," she said briskly. "Looks like someone's ready to rejoin the land of the living."

Mrs Dale blinked her eyes open at that. Edith seized her hands, unable to stop herself, and kissed them, hot tears pouring down her cheeks and over their interlinked fingers. "Oh, Mrs Dale!"

"I'll come back later," the nurse murmured. "When Dr Reid comes on his rounds." Edith did not even look up as she slipped away.

"Shh, shh… stop all that fussing right now, my girl," Mrs Dale ordered, but her voice was very gentle and held no trace of strictness. In fact, she sounded almost pleased. "Why are you up here, and not back in Somerset, hmm? That school won't run itself, you know."

Edith sniffed and shook her head. "I'm not going back. N-not just now."

"So you're not to leave us again just yet then, my lamb, hmm?" Mrs Dale reached a frail hand up to stroke at her cheek.

"N-no," Edith trembled. "Don't be silly. I - I couldn't think of it, while you're so dreadfully ill."

"I wish you'd not thought of it in the first place," Mrs Dale croaked severely. "But I suppose that ship's long sailed."

Edith avoided her eye. "Yes. It has."

"Well, I don't know why." She exhaled, long and shallow. "Were we such horrid folk to live amongst, that you'd get so cross with us you'd want to move to the other end of the country?"

"No!" Edith's voice was horrified. "I - I've missed you, and Mrs Cox, and Mr Stewart and Master Pip very much."

"And what about the master, hmm?" Mrs Dale paused. "I thought you and he were… quite good chums, at one time."

Edith let out a slight, bitter laugh. "Yes. So did I, for a while. I was… mistaken."

"How 'mistaken'?" Mrs Dale frowned. "He'd be ashamed if he'd done anything to offend you. And he's been so miserable since you went away - "

"Goodness, you must still be so very tired," Edith interrupted, fussing with the pillows and the eiderdown. "I shouldn't be tiring you out with all this nonsensical chatter."

"I'm not so tired, my girl, that I can't listen to what's gone wrong between you two and try to put it right," replied Mrs Dale, catching hold of her fluttering hands between her own warm, calloused ones, and stilling them. "Now… just you tell me what made you leave, hmm? What was that horrid quarrel about?"

"Nothing. He just… isn't the man I thought he was," Edith blurted out, more than a little flustered.

"And who put ideas like that into your head?"

"No one!" Too late, Edith realised she'd answered too quickly.

"Lady Fyfe, I'll be bound." Mrs Dale's voice was filled with disapproval. "All right, out with it - what did that poisonous harpy say?"

"Mrs Dale!" Edith gasped, caught between horror and amusement.

"Well, I call a spade a spade." She tutted. "She was just the same as a girl - and I'll tell you another thing for nothing, there's not a person under Locksley's roof didn't breathe a sigh of relief when the master married Miss Maude - as was - instead."

"And I'm sure 'Miss Maude' was among them!" Edith scoffed under her breath.

Mrs Dale looked at her, open-mouthed, and then, to Edith's surprise, began to chuckle, albeit weakly. "Oh, so that's it, is it?"

Edith knew her face was burning red with embarrassment. "I - I know why Sir Anthony married her, if that's what you mean."

"You don't know anything, my girl." Mrs Dale reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and Edith hastened to help her. When she had taken a few sips, and Edith had settled her back on the pillows, Mrs Dale said, very firmly, "Just you listen to one as was there."

"No, thank you." Edith's voice was brisk, and she couldn't help it getting a little louder as she added, "I don't want to hear anything more about this - this disgusting affair!"

"O-ho, Miss Prim-and-Proper! If you must know, Lady Strallan's papa was a strict sort of fellow. Very strict. Strict enough that when he found the master kissing his daughter in a conservatory, he was ready to horsewhip him." She twinkled a little at Edith. "And of course, the master weren't so keen on that idea. So he proposed instead."

"J-just kissing her?" Edith whispered, through suddenly numb lips. "Not - not anything else?"

"No!" Mrs Dale tutted. "Well… there might have been a bit of - of unchaste fumbling, if you catch my drift, but nothing that couldn't have been mended. Nothing of the sort you're thinking of. He behaved like a clot, pardon me for saying so, but he's not got a dishonourable bone in his body."

"Oh! So he - he didn't - he isn't - "

Mrs Dale reached forwards and squeezed Edith's hand gently. "No, my lamb. Don't leave us again, hmm? It's breaking his heart, losing another woman he loves."

Edith's cheeks were red again. "Don't be silly, Mrs Dale." She paused, shaking her head. "But… but he told me that he - he - Mrs Dale, he admitted it, admitted that he'd… how did he phrase it? That he'd 'ruined her character', before they were married."

Mrs Dale raised her eyebrows. "Well, of course that's the way he sees it. It's the one time in his life he's ever lost control with a woman. But… surely you see, even if it went no further than that, he'd never have left a lass in the lurch. Not a man like Anthony Strallan."

"Yes," Edith whispered. "I quite see now."

Mrs Dale patted her hand. "Now, I think you should run along home and fix what's been broke, don't you?"


When she arrived back at Locksley - having telephoned Mr Stewart for a lift - Edith found that Sir Anthony had gone out on a visit to one of the farms, and wasn't expected back until it came time for him to go on to the hospital. Nervous and restless, she moped around in the kitchen, looking for something to do, until Mrs Cox, thoroughly irritated by such odd behaviour, ordered her off to lay the afternoon fires in the ground floor rooms. "And just you keep your mind on the job," she called after Edith. "Don't want the whole house going up in smoke on top of everything else," she muttered to herself.

So it was that when the master of the house arrived home, he found his erstwhile secretary knelt at the fireside in the library.

"Mrs Crawley." He shut the door behind him with a polite click. "I - you don't have to do that."

Edith continued to build the fire, not looking up. "Well, Molly and Mrs Cox are already rushed off their feet, and who else is going to? Not you, certainly. And not Mr Everington either. I know men - you'd all of you freeze to death if there weren't some poor woman around to light your fire for you." Her voice softened. "Besides… I needed something to… keep my mind off… things."

"Ah. Of course." He took a hesitant step forward. "How - how is Mrs Dale? Mrs Cox said she'd woken up."

"Getting stronger, Dr Reid says. Sitting up and talking." She let her eyes flicker briefly up to his face. "Apparently, she may be able to come home at the end of the week, if her progress continues to be this good."

His face creased into an expression of deep relief. "That's wonderful news."

"Yes, isn't it?" Edith swallowed and added, in an off-hand voice, "I - I was thinking… even when Mrs Dale comes home, she - she will still need help, around the house, won't she? Perhaps… perhaps I ought to… stay on. Just for now?" Studiously, she avoided his eye. "You know that I can pull my weight. Pass me the matches, will you?"

He complied, asking as he did so, "Won't Dr Robinson be wanting you back?"

Edith looked down at her lap, hands crossed demurely in front of her. "We… may have had… something of a parting of the ways."

"Indeed?"

"Yes." She chanced another quick look at him, gave a deep sigh, and then explained, reluctantly, "When… when I received Mrs Cox's telephone call… Dr Robinson offered me the position of Bursar. I asked to take a leave of absence to visit Locksley instead, and she refused and… and so I resigned. I had to come."

"I know. And you were so convinced of that fact that you… drove all the way from Wolverhampton in one night."

Edith gave the carpet a sheepish smile. "Who ever told you that, I wonder?"

"Veronica." He frowned and then, when Edith did not seem about to continue the conversation, said abruptly, "Are you finished down there? I don't like… looking down on you like this."

A little startled, Edith rose and seated herself neatly in the opposite armchair. "What ever were you thinking?" Sir Anthony asked quietly. "Anything could have happened to you. You could have crashed. You could have been stranded. You could have… fallen asleep at the wheel… Mrs Crawley - Edith - "

"I wasn't thinking, if you must know. All I knew was that… I needed to get back to Locksley because… because I couldn't bear for the last proper words I spoke to you to have been angry, unkind ones."

"I see. And you were willing to lose your job - your perfectly good job - over it?" Edith blushed and did not answer. At length, he sighed and wondered, "So… what will you do now?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, smiling faintly. "Go back to London for a while, I suppose. She was very fair - sent me away with an excellent reference and a month's pay - but… I think I need a little rest, first." Hastily, she added, "That isn't the reason I'm offering to stay. I do think it would be better if Mrs Dale had some extra help. Just… please understand, you wouldn't need to - to pay me, or anything like that."

Sir Anthony hesitated for a moment, and then reached forwards as if to take both of her hands in his. He only just managed to prevent himself. "You… you could, you know, if you wanted to… just… take your job back. I know… I know things were beastly between us, before you left, but… but if I swore to… stay away from you, to… to - "

Edith shook her head. "You don't need to do that. I - I know you wouldn't… try anything awful."

"Does - does that mean that you'll stay, then?" he murmured. "Come back on your old terms? Be my - my strong right hand again?"

Edith's ducked her head, embarrassed. "Aren't… aren't you forgetting something?"

"What, my dear?" he frowned.

Her fingers twisted themselves together. "Um… Mr Everington. He's done nothing to deserve being dismissed, has he?"

Sir Anthony's face fell. "Oh. Yes, you're quite right."

"But I…" Edith began, and then stopped. Anthony searched her face, looking for anything that might give him hope.

"Yes? What is it?"

There was a faint shy smile there. "I suppose that I could - could come back on… different terms?"

"A sort of minister without portfolio, you mean?" Anthony prompted and she nodded.

"Why not? Mrs Dale will need help, and I'm sure she'd rather me than someone new, someone she doesn't know."

"Quite right." He beamed. "So… that's settled. Yes?"

"Yes. I - " Edith stopped, and then the question she had been longing to ask came suddenly bursting out. "Why on earth didn't you tell me the truth, sir? About you and Lady Strallan? Why didn't you tell me that Lady Fyfe had lied?"

Frowning, he sighed heavily. "The truth, my dear? What more did you need to know than that I - I compromised my wife, most thoroughly, before she became my wife? In that regard, Lady Fyfe told you the absolute truth."

"You know very well," Edith protested, with a voice that trembled, "that Lady Fyfe made it sound as if you had - had manipulated Lady Strallan. As if you had - had planned to seduce her. And… and it wasn't like that at all, was it? You - were just in love with each other, and… it was a momentary… loss of reason."

He shrugged, bashfully. "And isn't that just as bad? She was seven years younger than me, only just eighteen - still a mere child, really. I was a man, not a silly young lad, and I should have known better, should have controlled myself." He shook his head.

"You didn't even take her to bed," Edith whispered reproachfully. "Mrs Dale told me."

"For a woman who's just had a heart attack," he said wryly, "Mrs Dale has been frightfully talkative." At Edith's speaking look, however, he ducked his head. "No," he agreed eventually. "I didn't." His lips quirked in a smile empty of any mirth. "But you shouldn't let Mrs Dale persuade you into ascribing any honour whatsoever to my behaviour. If her father hadn't discovered us… I've never been entirely sure that I wouldn't have." He sighed. "I behaved no better - although, I hope, no worse - than Michael Gregson did, my dear, and I have no right to pretend that I did. But I was… in a position to remedy the injury I had done her, and I did." He coughed, shame-faced. "It… it isn't something I've ever been proud of, you understand. I certainly wasn't going to make excuses about it to you."

Edith shot him a look that was full of warm exasperation. It jolted straight through him, a look like that, so full of compassion, after all those long months of estrangement and absence. "Would you have married her anyway?" she asked quietly, after a moment. "Even if you hadn't…"

Anthony nodded wistfully. "Yes. I… Maude and I were very deeply in love with each other. She was funny and kind and…" He shot her a dry look. "And… bold. Well, we were both a little out of step with everyone else around us. We fitted together well - and there will always be a part of me that… that loves her."

Edith blinked away sudden tears. "Then you were very lucky, sir."

"Yes. I was."

She reached out for him. "I… must apologise. I said… so very many beastly things to you, and you deserved none of them. I - I was angry and disappointed and - " She blushed. "Well, I suppose that's what happens when you set someone up on a pedestal. It was unfair of me." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't expect you to forgive me just now, but… but I will do my very best to - to earn your good opinion again."

"My dear, if anything… I admire you more after this. To show such strength of character, such principles - "

"It wasn't that!" she protested. "Don't glorify my bad behaviour by giving it the name of 'principles'! I was judgemental and prejudiced and… and I let my assumptions get in the way of - of what I really know about your character. Truly, I am sorry."

"Don't give it another thought, my dear." Kindly, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it, off-hand and affectionate. "All's well between us now, and you're staying, and when Mrs Dale comes home, I shall have nothing more to wish for." His hand squeezed briefly, tight and fond, against the one of hers that he still held. "Now, how about a nice cup of tea, and then you can tell Pip your wonderful news, hmm?"

"Yes," Edith agreed. "But… tomorrow, sir, I'm afraid I'll have to be absent again."

"Oh? Whyever is that?"

"Because I need to drive that silly car back to Wolverhampton…"

Sir Anthony looked thoroughly astonished for a moment and then - as Edith had never heard him before - roared with laughter.