Hopes and Fears

It was late when they got home, though time had become strange in the preceding hours. Strange and dreadfully slow, so that minutes had felt more like hours. He felt as though he had been awake for days, even with getting a good night's sleep the night before.

Ever since those most cherished of words and matters had been in his consciousness he slept more peacefully than in years. Of course Anna was anxious, if she didn't like to dwell on her fears too much. He was there – as he would always be – to listen and reassure, as much as he could. They would lie next to each other, sometimes talking and sometimes in silence. She was comforted by his touch, which was something deeply moving to him given what had gone before. With each night that passed he could physically feel her worries start to lessen and it took less time for her to go off to sleep. He was glad, both because she so richly deserved the peace and also because it would surely be good for the baby.

He was happy to content her, doing so gladly. Yet he was not infallible when it came to being without fear. He couldn't help thinking that he should have been used to this. No matter how many years had passed into history, the time spent in war was never to be forgotten. It was engraved on the soul of every man who had served as a permanent reminder, sometimes charging back to life at the most unexpected and inappropriate of moments.

Then again, it didn't seem to be the most fitting of comparisons. He had always been able to keep his Lordship from harm in those days. There had been a couple of close calls – one of which had resulted in the injury that he had too long considered to have changed his life for the worse – but they had made it out. One of his abiding memories was the look on his Lordship's face in the aftermath, coming out clear through the rubble and the smoke. His words, too, which had been ringing in John's head throughout the evening, when Mr Carson had given them all the terrible news.

Logic told him that nobody could have prevented this, not even his Lordship himself. But then, logic was so easily defeated in times of desperation.

Anna had spoken to him on the way back to the cottage, and he listened. He knew what her motive was and he was grateful. Her hand on the sleeve of his coat did soothe him, all the more so when she slipped it down past his cuff and slipped her fingers into the spaces between his. The press of her palm against his own emphasised the ache in his throat and brought tears to his eyes.

In the place that was their own he could unburden himself. It was much easier to remove his coat and hat than to let his armour drop, even to his darling wife.

"You must be exhausted," he said to her, bending to assist her in taking off her shoes.

"I am tired," she replied, and he could see that she was urging him to get back up, "but I doubt as much as Lady Mary, Lady Edith and her Ladyship are."

He gave a small smile in acknowledgment.

"We should have come home earlier. Lady Mary would have understood."

"I wanted to see how she was. Though there's nothing that I could say to make her feel any better."

"Still, you need your rest."

Her smile dazzled towards him, and he thought of her bathed in glorious sunshine as she had been that very morning, as well as the several that had come before.

"And I shall have it. We're all in need of it tonight." Her hand grasped upon his arm, now in his shirtsleeves. "I know that you're worn out with worry."

"Am I that obvious?" he replied, a small hint of humour in his tone.

"You are to me," she answered, still smiling, "I thought that would be quite plain by now. Is there anything you'd like? Tea?"

He shook his head. "Let's retire, before dawn breaks."

He wasn't sure of how much sleep he would get, even if he did feel bone-tired. He wouldn't have complete peace of mind until he knew more of his Lordship's condition, or rather until he was back at the Abbey. God willing that all would keep moving in the right direction.

Anna shifted herself so that she was facing him, and lying as close as she could by his side.

"Penny for them?"

His mouth quirked at her question, the weight of his crowding worries momentarily lifting. He did not want to confess that which he feared the most, given that she needed him to be a pillar of strength for her. At the same time, he knew that she wouldn't thank him for keeping anything hidden.

"I was just thinking, there aren't that many years between me and his Lordship," he said, a little hesitatingly. "I'm not saying that anything will happen, but I suppose you never know."

He regretted saying anything when there was silence for a few moments. He was about to say as much when Anna's palm settled firm upon his chest.

"Many things can happen, that is true. But just as many, if not more, don't. I'm telling that to myself, every morning and night at the moment. It might take a bit of time for me to really believe it, but I'm starting to think that it's the best outlook."

He felt an inner peace at her wise words, watching the smile on her face bloom as he placed a hand carefully upon her stomach.

"And until then," she said, "I don't think it can hurt to say a few more 'bad harvest's."