Some of you might've noticed I keep switching the characters listed as being in the story. That's because, since there are so many featured here, I couldn't really decide on just four, so I'm rotating them based on who's in the most recent chapter(s). Hope that clears it up a bit. :)

—2—

Rose, Rosamund, and Edith arrived the following morning. Room arrangements weren't even discussed. It was clear which two of them were sharing a room.

Rose swung her suitcase onto one twin bed. "It's not too bad," she said to Edith, who sat down on the other.

"It's terribly small. How are the both of us supposed to fit all of our things?"

Rose unbuckled her bag and began to unpack, shoving her clothes into drawers. Edith, on the other hand, took her time folding each item of clothing before neatly putting it away.

"We'll get by," said Rose. "Although I do hate that Mummy and Daddy can continue to live as they always do. It's not fair."

Now it was Edith's time to provide support. She crossed the small bedroom and climbed onto Rose's bed. Rose sat beside her.

"I don't think I'll mind living away from Mary. And," she said quickly, knowing how the topic pleased her cousin, "I bet some single men will have been sent to the Plaza."

Rose laughed, a wonderful sound to hear.

"Perhaps you'll meet the man of your dreams, too," she said, playfully nudging Edith's shoulder with her own. "And then we may both be hopelessly in love together, traveling the world with our partners until we eventually end up in the States, building new lives for ourselves."

Edith hummed happily in response. Then, quietly, she said, "Sometimes I think this is all a nightmare, and I am really still back at Downton, sleeping soundly as the maids draw the curtains. But then little things remind me it's real – the pain when I stepped on a nail as we arrived; the fur from Aunt Rosamund's jacket brushing up against me in the car; and you, here, sitting so close. I don't think one can feel things whilst dreaming."

"No," agreed Rose, "it's rather unlikely."

After a few seconds of quiet, Edith got up and turned to face the blonde.

"Would you like a cup of tea? I gather one isn't too hard to make. It is just flavored water, after all."

Rose nodded with a smile. "Don't burn the house down, or if you do, let Cousin Rosamund know first so she and I have time to get out," she joked.

Edith peered at her with her eyelids half closed.

"No promises."

Rosamund stared at her new accommodations with disdain. Growing up in Downton Abbey had her used to its luxury, and the layout in front of her was anything but luxurious. A single table, only able to fit four people, was placed in one corner of the room. A small television sat against the opposite wall, accompanied by a couch that looked to only have room for three. It worked for her and her two roommates, yes, but what were they to do if they had company?

The stairwell creaked under Edith's weight, alerting Rosamund to her niece's presence. Edith was still wearing the clothes she'd left in, like Rosamund was; both of them were probably over-dressed, but it wasn't like they were seeing anyone anytime soon, what with the house arrest and all.

"I thought I'd make some tea," announced Edith, walking over to the small, worn-down kitchen. She surveyed the state of it. "On second thought," she said, her gaze fixed on the stove and its many controls, "I think I can do without."

Suddenly, a sound Rosamund knew to be the doorbell rang out. Both women turned their heads in the front door's direction.

"I'll get it," said Rosamund, already making her way through the tightly-packed furniture and into the narrow hallway. She twisted the door knob, half expecting it to come off in her hands. She was pleasantly surprised when it didn't.

"Hi, you must be Mrs. Painswick." A woman around Rosamund's age held out her hand. It took Rosamund a few moments to realize the woman was expecting a handshake. It took her even longer to remember she wasn't "Lady Rosamund" anymore.

"That would be me, yes." Rosamund offered a smile.

"I'm Jackie. Jackie Cox. This is my husband Leroy, and my daughter Helena. We live next door."

Jackie backed up a few inches, allowing Rosamund a good look at her two companions. The man, whom she presumed was Leroy, had his hands in his pockets (something Rosamund and her brother had been told never to do). The little girl, about five or six years old, waved shyly from what she considered to be a safe distance.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Rosamund spun around for a moment to shout, "Edith, come meet the neighbors!"

Edith came to the front door, and instinctively knew to extend her arm for a hand shake. As one of the younger generation, she understood informal greetings, despite never shaking another person's hand in her entire life.

"My niece, Edith," Rosamund introduced her.

Jackie stuck her hand inside her handbag and pulled out a pamphlet. She gave it to Rosamund, who first glanced down at it and then looked at her questioningly.

"Prime Minister says to give it to you. Most important thing I've ever done, delivering it."

Rosamund passed the pamphlet to Edith. Edith needed to peer at it only once to know it was yet another set of rules for their new lifestyle. She let out a ground, but in her head, so no one could hear it but her.

Rosamund felt compelled to address the lack of her cousin. "You'll have to stop by to meet the final member of our fête later. I haven't the slightest idea when she'll be down."

Jackie stared at her blankly.

"I don't speak German," she said, shyly.

"I think it was French, hun," Leroy told his wife. Edith and Rosamund exchanged wary looks.

"It means party," said Edith, translating. "What my aunt means is that our cousin Rose has yet to make an appearance downstairs, and she doesn't think she'll be coming down any time soon, so you'll have missed her."

"Rose is a pretty name," said Helena, at last coming out from behind her father. "I have a doll named Rose. Her hair is red, like yours."

Helena pointed to Rosamund. Her mother pushed her hand down.

"Don't point, sweetheart. People don't like it when you point at them."

"No no, it's quite all right." Rosamund bent down slightly so she was somewhat level with the young girl. "You seem terribly proud of your doll. You must be very grateful to whoever bought it for you."

Helena's lip quivered. She looked like she was about to cry.

"My granny bought it," she whimpered. "And then she told me she'd buy me another one for my next birthday, but she died four weeks later."

Rosamund stood up. She grimaced apologetically. Jackie sighed.

"And with that, I think we should be going," she said, scooping her daughter into her arms. "Nice meeting you."

After the Coxes disappeared into their home, located exactly ten feet away from Rosamund's own, she and Edith went back inside. Just as Rosamund closed the door behind them, Rose barreled down the stairs. She'd changed outfits: she wore a beige cardigan dress and ankle boots. She hadn't worn something so casual since her escapade to a common bar in London, nearly two years earlier.

"Did I miss anything?" she asked.

Edith's lips quirked into a wry smile.

"Nothing much. The new neighbors came to welcome us and Aunt made their daughter cry."

"I did not make her cry," Rosamund huffed indignantly. "I just said the wrong thing."

Rose cocked her head to one side, taking this new information in. Deciding it was better to drop the subject, she twirled for the two women (although the outfit she'd chosen to wear, unlike her usual dresses, did not float about her).

"Did you know regular clothing doesn't require corsets?" she said excitedly.

Edith laughed.