A/N: A big thank you to the kind guest reviewers. I really do appreciate you guys taking the time to comment and let me know what you think!

Chapter 21: Hearts made weak by time and fate, but strong in will - part III

4 September, 1925

They met at King's Cross, where Bertie had been standing for a half hour in anticipation of Edith's arrival – he had been, and was bound to always be, too eager to see her than what was appropriate. He had met Mr Bell the previous day to get an update on the situation with Mr Carr. The entire business would take more than a single month to be resolved, of course, and though Bertie trusted Mr Bell and his associate to handle the matter appropriately, he still believed in a direct approach, and wanted to be as involved in the proceedings as was possible and convenient. He didn't just want compensation from Mr Carr, he wanted to dissuade any other person from trying their hand at swindling him, and he believed the way to do that was to teach Mr Carr a very public lesson.

Edith was smiling when she approached him on the platform, and Bertie was very pleased when they finally made their way into their carriage, and were allowed enough privacy that he was able to properly greet her. He took stock of her trepidation and tried to reassure her as much as possible about his mother, for it didn't take a thorough investigation to understand that that was the main reason for her apprehension. After that, he talked about more mundane things; first of all, he wanted to explain away the rumours regarding his attachment to Cousin Adele (she had indeed appreciated his efforts at the ball, and their relationship had thawed considerably – he also believed her addressing him as Cousin Bertie afforded her no small measure of influence amongst the peers), thinking it only fair that Edith knew what the dance at the Rothburys' ball had actually signified. Then, he talked about the mining situation, because his name had been in the papers for that as well, and Bertie wanted her to have the full picture, the one the papers could not be trusted to give. Then, when even that topic had exhausted itself, he proceeded to talk about the dinner they would have on Monday, the one during which he had decided to announce their engagement.

There were more things he wished to discuss with her, most that were closer to his heart than those he had selected, but he didn't want the train to be the setting in which they talked of them. He wanted to take her for a tour of the Castle, to tell her everything good about his life in the nooks and crannies that he only explored when he wanted to escape the madness and mundanity of life, the ones which were so intrinsically connected to visions of his childhood with Peter, because those were some of the best memories of his life, and Edith was the very best of things that had ever happened to him, and he wished to fill the entirety of Brancaster with traces of her.

When they arrived at the train station, Mr Scott had been waiting there to pick them up. Bertie let the chauffeur handle the luggage with the train station staff, and settled with Edith in the back of the car.

Mother was waiting for them at the entrance, with a full reception from the staff, who all looked quite intrigued by the woman standing next to him. Most of the men had met her, of course, but the maids certainly hadn't and neither had Yearnshire. For some reason, Yearnshire's approval actually meant more to Bertie than he would ever let anyone know. Of everyone there to meet them, of course, the only stamp of approval he truly wished to obtain, though, was his mother's. He would, if forced, choose Edith over his mother, but he did hope never to be faced with that decision.

Before the greetings at the door had the chance to become awkward, Bertie suggested they move inside. After all, he was the actual owner of Brancaster, not his mother, and though he liked the idea of having Edith received with enough respect, he wanted this to be her home more than he wished her to feel like the Queen Mother coming on a State visit. He suggested a move to the drawing room, and Mother led the way.

"I am very glad to finally meet you, Lady Edith. Bertie had talked of you often, and I admit to have been worried when he stopped, this past month."

"It was a difficult time, Mother, let's not go over it again," Bertie said, his hand brushing against Edith's arm in a show of support before they took their seats on the sofa. He wasn't going to breathe a word of what had transpired between them if she wouldn't, and he wanted Edith to know it.

"I'm quite pleased to finally have the opportunity to meet you, as well. Bertie talks of you often and with such great esteem that I must admit to having been quite curious." That seemed to appease Mother, and Bertie couldn't be gladder for it.

"Bertie tells me you own a magazine," she remarked.

Bertie allowed them to carry the conversation from there, happy to only chime in when he had something concrete to add. He wasn't by any means shy, but he wanted them to find common ground of their own accord, and believed that with two such strong-minded women, it would be best to let them come to their own conclusions about the other. His interventions, at this stage, risked only being a hindrance to their meeting.

Charlton and Matthew came in to serve tea, somewhat earlier than was their norm, and Bertie was glad, because he wanted to show Edith around before her parents arrived later that evening, and the early tea would allow him to actually do it without disrupting the schedule more than he had already done. As soon as he had had a moment to spare for the servants, the day before, he had realised that they would all deserve a compensation for all the trouble Bertie had put them through. The next respite from renters for the season, Bertie would send them on a vacation.

He got up to serve Edith her tea, since Matthew had already provided for Mother's and Charlton was clearly arranging Bertie's. He didn't wish to interrupt the conversation between the two women, and he was the only one in the room who knew Edith's preferences aside from Edith herself. He took the chance to ask Charlton the time at which he had intended to sound the gong that evening, to know when he should have Edith back inside in time – he fully intended to take her away from his mother's grasp and on a small tour outside.

When he moved his focus back to the two women conversing, in a turn of conversation he hadn't anticipated, Mother was asking Edith about Marigold, and Bertie had to struggle not to show his apprehension as the subject was being discussed.

"I wasn't surprised when Bertie told me he was taking on your ward, since I know he loves children, but I was amazed to learn that you had taken up a ward at all. Given the unlikeliness of men to take on responsibilities that aren't their own, I thought it rather a bold move on your part."

Edith didn't flinch at the words, but he could see that she wasn't entirely too happy with the words she spoke in response. "I suppose it only shows a strength of character in Bertie that few men possess."

"And she's a darling girl," Bertie added. "I don't think anyone with a heart who had occasion to meet her wouldn't fall in love with her. If I can help provide her with opportunities to have a good life, then I shall be glad to do so."

Edith looked lovingly up at him, and squeezed his hand with her left even as with the right she accepted the cup of tea he had prepared for her.

"And how old is she, now?"

"She is two, three by the end of the year."

"Then you should be looking into finding a nanny, rather than a governess, for the time being."

"Actually," Edith said, looking at him as well as his mother, "I had been considering the idea of sending her to a pre-preparatory school in London. I have been spending a lot more time in London lately than I have in Yorkshire, and it seemed like the right thing to do. Of course, since I won't be living in London after all, that won't be possible, but I still would like Marigold to go to school."

"And so she shall. We'll find somewhere around Brancaster, but maybe she can start next year rather than this one. That way she'll get used to the Castle first."

"Well, I won't say no to that. Though I suppose it will be a shock to the system, I do support education," Mother declared. "Especially for women."

Having found another common ground between them, they conversed until Bertie decided he had given them enough time to like each other. He interrupted the conversation as soon as he found a lull within it, and offered Edith a tour of the inner grounds and the outer walls. It was all they would have time for before the gong was rung. Before his mother could suggest she come along as well, for propriety's sake, he said he would have Yearnshire as a chaperone. His mother accepted the compromise and let them go.

"Yearnshire?" Edith asked when they were left alone. "Is he the Castle's expert?"

Bertie smiled. "He is Peter's old valet, I promoted him to underbutler. He won't say a word about what he hears and he will keep his distance at any rate. I just wanted to be alone with you for a while, and Mother wouldn't really have allowed us to be unchaperoned."

"We've never been chaperoned before," she commented. She was right of course; Bertie had always been free to court her without any interference, and to think that it would be his mother rather than her parents to impose the age-old custom held no small amount of irony in his head. But he didn't mind either way.

Bertie led her downstairs to the servant's hall, where Yearnshire had been studying the wine list with Charlton. Bertie was glad to know the man was learning the ropes; while he had no intention of releasing Charlton from his duties as Butler of Brancaster, there was nearly a twenty-year age difference between the two, which meant all the time in the world for Yearnshire to be a butler after Charlton retired.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Charlton, but I need Yearnshire for the next hour if you can spare him. This should be the last disruption to your schedule, if you'll believe me." Charlton looked dubious at that, and Bertie had to concede that he had all the reason in this world not to place confidence in that particular promise. Still, Bertie would do his best not to be as much of a nuisance as he had been thus far.

He led the way, while Edith walked by his side and Yearnshire at a reasonable distance behind them both. Bertie showed her all of his favourite spots within the walls' enclosure, and though she had been to Brancaster already, she apparently hadn't had the opportunity to appreciate the Castle properly. She explained that she had taken a walk around the nearby stream, and Bertie smiled. It was a common route for guests and renters alike to take – anyone who didn't know the property intimately like he did presumed that the most obvious locations were the ones worthiest of attention.

Before taking her to the chemin de ronde and offering her the view he preferred of the entire estate, Bertie wished to learn about her impression of his mother. He took her hand in his as he inquired after it, in an attempt to reassure her about the fact that he could take all the honesty she was willing to share.

"She's bright, and interesting," Edith begun. "And she is utterly devoted to you, that much is obvious. But I do understand what you meant when you described her as stern."

Bertie smirked. "I never used that word, only much graver ones. But thank you for being moderate in your criticism. She liked you, by the way."

"And when did she tell you that, exactly?"

"She didn't have to, she's my mother." He gave her a quick kiss on her temple, before leading her up the stairs, and then sent a look Yearnshire's way, hoping that the man would get the hint that Bertie wished to be given some visual privacy soon, once they had reached the wall walk. A simple nod in response to his look let him know that he would have it.

When they reached his spot, he stopped her and waited for Yearnshire to surpass them before wrapping his arms around her and enveloping her from behind. "I've wanted to do this for over a month," he whispered in her ear, as he held her as close as he possibly could. "This is my favourite spot in the whole world. The view is stunning, of course, but it's more than that. There's a quiet strength to these stone walls, that you can't quite grasp when you're inside. It has always given me a sense of solidity, of security. And having you in my arms, right here, right now, it makes me feel like I can tackle anything in the world."

"I love you, Bertie."

It might have been that he had only heard her say the words once before, but he felt like he could never get tired of her saying them. Indeed, he looked forward to the next time he would hear them, and every single instance after that. He would do all in his power to keep her loving him enough that she could express her sentiment aloud. He turned her around, and leaned down for a kiss. He was glad not to have his hat on at that time, because he would have hated to lose contact with her even for the short time it would have taken him to take it off.

When they separated – slowly and reluctantly – he noticed her eyes sliding over Yearnshire, who was standing with his back straight facing opposite them. "He's either a terrible chaperone or a very perceptive man. I can't decide."

Bertie chuckled. "He's the only one I told about breaking with you. He had been trying to help me find a way to convince you to give me a second chance, before your sister called." Edith looked perplexed. "I've known him since we were all children. He came here as a hallboy; he was an orphan, and when he proved to be a hard worker, the butler decided to recommend him as footman to Cousin William. He saved Peter and me whenever Peter felt like escaping the governess and hide around in the Castle. He never breathed a word about anything Peter got up to, and when my cousin was old enough to have a valet, Yearnshire was his choice. He knew Peter better than any other man, better even than I did, most likely. I feel like he is the only other person who will mourn his death."

"The staff here seems devoted to you," Edith commented.

"They were used to seeing me around as the agent, and I partook in my fair share of meals with them downstairs. Peter treated them kindly, but when he wasn't around, I was his face here, and I think they liked that. My mother thinks they are taking too many liberties, and probably doesn't approve of the fact that they are all so very focused on the renters, and so very little on the two of us, but I won't change any of them unless they give me reason to be dissatisfied."

"You're an amazing man, you know that, right?"

He leaned down for another kiss, briefer and less involved than the one they had only just shared. "I'm made better by your love."

8 September, 1925

Harry had been the second person he had called to announce his engagement, after his mother, and though there was no way to invite him to what had transformed from a gathering of peers who didn't seem to dislike Bertie to an engagement dinner, Bertie had wanted Edith to meet him and his family, so he had organised a luncheon with the Armstrongs while Edith and her parents were still at Brancaster. He had plans for it as well, though no one had been made privy to those aside from Edith herself.

Ada and Edith hit it off immediately, and Lady Grantham, because of her new role, gushed over Harry being a doctor and over Thomas' apparent aptitude for the medical field, which was always good, but Bertie had to make sure his mother wasn't left alone with Lord Grantham for too long, since she seemed to take great pleasure in breaking down all sorts of social conventions in his presence to embarrass him beyond what was usual even for her. He needn't have worried, of course, because whenever the children were around, her cantankerous personality took a vacation; Bertie hoped that the same would happen with Marigold, for he didn't think the shy little girl he had met would be able to endure his mother's personality otherwise.

When luncheon was finally served, Bertie made sure to include even the children in the conversation as much as possible. George and Margaret excitedly recounted their time spent in Plockton as the highlight of their summer.

"Uncle Bertie taught me how to fish," George declared.

"You weren't very good at it," Margaret intervened. "But you were quite good at riding the bicycle. Better than me, at any rate."

"Fishing takes time, and as long as you have the patience for it, you can learn." Bertie loved the children so much, he couldn't ever imagine himself being parted from their affection.

"Especially now that you're no longer too sad to teach me properly."

"It wasn't his being sad that prevented him from teaching you," Thomas defended his godfather. "It was just your pig-headedness."

"Thomas!" Ada exclaimed. "Have you forgotten your manners?" Thomas apologised immediately, but Bertie wasn't in the least bothered by the exchange, and if he had to judge from Edith's expression and Lady Grantham's, neither were they. Lord knew his Mother thought the children unable to do any wrong.

However, through it all, Bertie couldn't help but notice that Elizabeth was very quiet, and he gave Edith a look to ask her to change that. Bertie knew that if he were the one trying to make Elizabeth come to terms with Edith's position in his life, the girl wouldn't take it kindly.

"Elizabeth," Edith told the girl, "Bertie tells me you are interested in literature?"

The girl, addressed directly, could no longer find excuses to keep silent. "Yes," she answered. "I mean, yes, Lady Edith."

Edith smiled encouragingly. "You can do away with the title. All of you, really. Bertie speaks of you as family and I hope you will allow me to do the same soon enough."

"That's most kind of you to say," Harry spoke on behalf of all of his family. "If Bertie's tales about you are even half as true as reality, we would be honoured to consider you a friend."

Smaller pockets of conversation formed after that, but Edith maintained her focus on Elizabeth. "Bertie mentioned you might like to become a critic."

"It was just an idea," Elizabeth defended herself.

But Edith wouldn't be discouraged. "Because I was thinking, if you would like, you could come down to London one weekend, and I could show you around my office; my editor studied at Girton College, at Cambridge, and I'm sure she could tell you a lot about your options. And when you'll have a better idea of what you actually want to pursue, maybe we could go visit some universities and colleges together."

Elizabeth's eyes had become increasingly wider the longer Edith spoke, and when she was done, Elizabeth chanced a look in Bertie's direction, as if asking for directions. "You can come down with me, so your parents won't have to worry about you taking the train alone, and while the two of you do your thing, I can get some work done."

"I'd love that," Elizabeth said, with the giddy enthusiasm Bertie had missed about her. "Did you hear that, Mum? Edith offered to introduce me to her editor, so that I can learn a bit more about universities and a career in literature."

"I hope you don't mind, Ada."

"And maybe," Bertie intervened, louder, this time, "we could take another weekend down in London to get both Elizabeth and Margaret a dress for the wedding?"

"Bertie," Harry intervened. "I can't accept that, you know it."

"It wouldn't be Bertie's expense," Edith answered in his stead. "I want them to be my flower girls, and that means their dresses are part of Papa's contribution to the effort."

"Quite right," Lord Grantham intervened, though he looked as perplexed as Harry and Ada. Admittedly, Elizabeth was somewhat old for the role of flower girl, but if it helped Bertie bring her to accept and like Edith, then he wouldn't mind the break with tradition. They had discussed the matter together before Harry had arrived, and they had decided that their idea needed to at least be voiced.

The desperately longing looks of both Margaret and Elizabeth combined were more than either Harry or Ada could take. "Very well, then. Just don't find other excuses to spoil the children. Or any of us, really."

"Does that include asking you to be my best man?" Bertie asked.

Harry's smile was visible even under his moustache. "Exceptions can be made."

"Good," Bertie said, raising his glass. He was followed by everyone else, even by the children, who lifted glasses of grape juice. "Because I wasn't taking no for an answer."

Additional A/N: We're nearing the end, now. The last chapter, unlike how it's been so far, will be divided in two rather than three parts. That means, that we've only got two updates left.