Found this in my files. Don't know how old it is but the story is incomplete, so I'll need to finish it. Thought posting the first installment might encourage me to keep at it. It would seem the muse has returned, haha. Let me know what you think. Reviews keep the muse happy ;)
Edith Crawley finished her stroll with her daughter, her beloved daughter that she could not acknowledge, and turned back to the great house that was their home. It was a beautiful day outside, an unusual combination of sunshine and moderate temperatures that Edith longed to take advantage of but little Marigold's toddler legs could only go so far and the child was getting too heavy for Edith to carry her. So leaving the girl with the nanny while Edith returned to the outdoors was the only solution.
She brought a book with her and wandered toward a favored bench under a large oak tree, intending to relax there and read. But the day was too bright and blissful for reading musty old books and before long Edith had left it on the bench as she set out, ambling along a little used path, meandering aimlessly.
Her mind turned to other days, beautiful ones like this one, ones that seemed full of sunshine and happiness; for that was how she remembered her strolls and rides in the car with her first real love, Anthony Strallan. Oh, she had loved her cousin Patrick but it had been doomed since he was set to marry her older sister before death claimed him as the Titanic sank to the bottom of the ocean and all their lives changed. Yes she had loved him, as a schoolgirl is capable of loving and now so many years later Edith wondered if her infatuation wasn't in part due to the lifelong competition between her and her sister.
Her interest in Anthony had certainly begun that way. But it hadn't taken long before her feelings toward the gentleman had blossomed into something real and burst into full bloom after the war. Edith blamed herself in part for his jilting her at the last moment. She had expressed her feelings for the man so clumsily. It was no wonder he'd run away from her, she reflected. He had wanted what she wanted for herself, to be loved in his own right and not because of some flaw. Looking back, she knew she had sealed her fate when she told him she loved him because of his injury and that she wanted to make him her life's work. Anthony was a modest man but he did have his pride. He could not have liked what he heard. Along with his pride, he was innately generous and kind. The very idea of her having to look after him as she had implied she intended, would have upset him tremendously. So of course, he'd said he couldn't do it, couldn't go through with the wedding, couldn't tie her to him like that. He freed her to find someone more appropriate, younger and not crippled. Problem was, so many of the younger men she met were crippled in ways one couldn't see with the eyes.
Then she'd met Michael, who barged into her heart and claimed it as his own. She had loved him, of that she was sure. And despite the circumstances, she was grateful to have his child. But her feelings for him had been very different than her feelings for Anthony. Michael was adventure and excitement and a bit of a whirlwind where as Anthony was steadfast and secure, warm and safe. It was with that thought that Edith was struck with a question she hadn't considered before. If Michael had returned and they'd married, what sort of home would they have? Would it be like his flat in London, modern and impressive but edgy and cold? She knew the answer to that question with regards to Anthony. Locksley would have been a cozy, safe haven for her and their children. The house was solid and while not grand like Downtown Abbey, had a charm of its own. But it was the owner who gave it life and a life there with him would have been stable and loving … secure.
And then like sudden punch to her stomach, Edith understood something that had escaped her these last few years. While she had been in love with Michael, she had never stopped loving Anthony and underneath all the excitement Michael had offered, it was the life that she might have had with Anthony that she truly wanted.
Of course it was! Nothing brought her greater joy than being a mother and to have the opportunity to be a doting wife would be equally satisfying, especially with a husband as caring as Anthony. Michael had loved her but he hadn't needed her. Anthony had needed her just as she needed him. Surely that would have been a more balanced marriage than one with Michael?
With a sigh, she realized the point was moot. Michael was dead and Anthony was… well, she hadn't seen him since that fateful day four years ago. She assumed he was locked away at Locksley but she really didn't know.
By this time, Edith had wandered quite far from the house and was on the other side of a large grove of trees that ran the length of the border for one of the tenant farms. She knew that if she followed the path that veered off toward a small pond at the back of the farm, there was another path that would lead her to Locksley. It was a long walk but it was still morning and Edith saw no reason to turn back. Following her inclination, she set off down the new path without a thought in her head about what she would do when she crossed off Crawley land and onto Strallan land.
The sun was high in the bright blue sky and Edith was quite thirsty by the time she traversed the last field and crossed through a gate in the rock wall that separated the two estates. There was still some distance between her and the house but she knew things would at least be cooler as she walked through the woods. Continuing along the path, she finally was able to see the house through the thinning trees and paused. Feeling quite parched by now, she considered simply walking up to the front door and requesting a glass of water, or perhaps some tea. A knot formed in her stomach at the mental image of Anthony's reaction at seeing her in his home though and she hesitated as she tried to think of another plan.