Here we are again. Hopefully the length of this one makes up for the time you've waited for more.


The following morning, Anthony sought out Matthew Crawley. "I know you are still on the mend," Anthony said. "But I hope that perhaps you might help me with something."

"Help you? How? I… well, I don't seem much use to anyone…"

Anthony nodded, recognizing the young man's despair. He had suffered quite a bit of that himself. "Yes, I know how that is," he replied. "But it isn't your military skill I need. Hopefully you can help me with a legal issue?"

"Legal?" Anthony could see interest spark in young Crawley's eyes. "What sort of legal issue?"

"I want to make a will. Trouble is, since I can't remember anything of my life before, I have no idea of what my holdings are and if there is even a will in existence. I need your help, as someone who understands these things, to help me sort it all. Do you think you might be able to help me?"

Matthew stared at him for a moment. "Thank you," he finally said softly.

"For what? I am coming to you for help, you understand."

"Yes, I do. But you see, I'm glad of the chance to do something, anything, beyond sitting in this blasted chair feeling sorry for myself. I know I shouldn't but it is so very difficult not to."

"Yes, I understand completely. Not about being in that chair, but about the self pity. It is rather difficult not to feel that way when one thinks on all that has been lost. But we are still here and so we must carry on, I suppose. And perhaps in time, we will both feel better about things. Perhaps never really whole again but at least not quite so broken."

Matthew looked at him skeptically. "Perhaps for you Sir Anthony. But I'm afraid this chair rather defines what my life is to be."

Glancing across the room at some of the other officers there, ones who had been wounded but were mending and would be fully capable when they left Downton, Anthony sighed. "Yes, your life will be defined, just as mine will be by my injuries. I don't think that's something they understand," he continued as he continued to look at the nearly whole men. "Their wounds will heal and they will go back to their lives almost as if nothing happened. They look at the ones like us, the ones who are permanently wounded, and are simply grateful it isn't them." Shaking his head, Anthony returned his gaze to the young man in front of him. "But I refuse to let Gerry win. I plan to make the most of my life and I hope you can find a way to do that as well."

Matthew flashed him a sad smile. "I am the future Earl of Grantham and have no hope of having an heir to leave it all to. The Earldom will end with me, it seems. It's a disappointment for me and even more for the present Earl, I believe."

"Yes, well, titles aren't everything," Anthony replied thoughtfully. "If your tenure as Earl helps the people who depend on this estate, if your oversight can help the estate move into the future, then you will have done your duty."

Matthew looked at him skeptically but nodded his agreement. "I'll need the name of your estate manager to begin. You appeared to be very much involved in your affairs before the war, but you must have a solicitor. I'll need to speak to him, as well. I can't imagine he'll be happy that you've chosen me to manage these things now. "

"Quite right. But you see, I know you. Not all that well, I realize; but I don't have any memory of a solicitor from before and whoever it might be, he will be a stranger to me. And I believe you to be an honest man. I believe I can trust you."

Matthew smiled sadly. "We'll get started as soon as you give me those names."

"I have a meeting with my sister this afternoon. I'll get them from her. And thank you."

Edith drove Anthony to Locksley after lunch. This time when he entered the old house, he felt even more at home. It wasn't that walking through the door evoked any memories, more of just a sense of belonging. Yes, he belonged here; he could feel it inside him, in his bones. Agatha was beside herself with excitement when she saw him standing in the front hall. "Oh Anthony, you are home," she cried happily.

Startled by her exuberance, Anthony turned to his sister and smiled. "It is good to see you, Agatha. I am grateful that you and Alistair are willing to take this time to help me." His feelings toward the older woman were warming, but he still didn't feel the comfortable familiarity he thought should exist between siblings.

"Of course we shall," Agatha smiled. Looking across at Edith, she nodded. "It is very good to see you again, Lady Edith. Thank you for bringing my brother to Locksley. I'm sure when we are done here, we can return him to Downton."

Edith looked as if she was about to object when Anthony spoke up. "Oh no, Agatha, you don't understand. Lady Edith is here with me, not just as my driver but as my… friend." Edith looked up at him with uncertainty at first but her expression changed to one of quiet happiness. "Yes, Anthony and I have renewed our friendship and I can't imagine leaving him here on his own until he is more comfortable. Everything is still new to him and at times, upsetting. I have strict orders from Dr. Clarkson to remain with him for now." Anthony knew that Clarkson had ordered no such thing but was grateful for the excuse to have her near him. She was right that he wasn't entirely comfortable and her presence most definitely helped.

A frown crossed Agatha's face as she looked at the pair. Watching his sister, Anthony saw when the pieces came together in her mind. "Yes, you were so very close before the war. It is so wonderful that you are able to still be friends now, even though Anthony doesn't remember."

"He is still the same man," Edith replied, "at least, in all the ways that truly matter."

Anthony could only smile awkwardly at her comment and yet, both the women saw something achingly familiar in his expression. He didn't believe for one moment that he wasn't a very changed man, in every way. He was ill at ease being the topic of conversation and they needed to move on.

"Well, I've found some old photographs of the family. They are in the library, if you'd like to come have a look?" Agatha turned, assuming that Anthony would follow. He did, careful to be sure Edith was beside him.

As Anthony looked through the photographs and Agatha explained who each person was, Anthony realized he felt nothing. Oh, perhaps he was a bit curious about the various faces in the photos, especially the daguerreotype of his grandparents. As he looked at the image, he recognized that one of the faces staring back at him was the same one he saw in the mirror each morning.

Agatha seemed to understand his interest in that particular photograph and hurried to add more commentary. "That was Sir Phillip Strallan, our father's father. The woman is our grandmother, of course. She was Antonie. Her maiden name was Gauss. Grandmother visited her Hanoverian relatives often and would take our Papa when he was a boy. Papa met Mama on one of his visits to Hanover and a few years later they married. Her name was Therese. So it followed that we spent parts of our summers there, visiting family. You were always very good with the language, learning it early and speaking it as if you'd lived there all your life. You once told me that your knowledge of Germany, the language and customs, and our family connections were the reasons why the Home Office asked you to go there before the war on a sort of reconnaissance mission. Apparently, your report upon your return helped them prepare, as war seemed inevitable." She paused and watched Anthony as he took it all in. "The Strallans have roots in Germany, as well; Westfalen. But those ties are several hundreds of years old and we lost touch with those relatives long ago."

Anthony sat frozen, the photograph in his hand as his mind processed it all. Those animals, those beasts, who had so thoroughly mistreated him were possibly his kinsmen? It wasn't something he had considered before and somewhere deep inside, he felt anger building and a dark cloud surrounding him; a cloud filled with the sounds of war and even worse, the sounds of torture.

"Anthony?" He heard Edith's soft voice from somewhere nearby and mentally he slowly came back to the library at Locksley. Looking at his sister he could barely give voice to his thoughts. "So I might have encountered some of our relatives, cousins, during the war?"

"It is very likely," Agatha conceded. "I had a letter from our cousin, Wilhelmine von Ruden, just as the war began. In it she said that all of the younger men in the family had joined the Armeekorps and were preparing to fight. When you were were recruited to go to the continent, I wrote to her expressing my worry that you might come against them on the battlefield. I, of course, had no idea that you weren't a part of the regular fighting units. Had I known, I believe my fears would have been even worse."

"I don't know what to say," Anthony replied. " I... I'm afraid I can't take all this in right now. Just having the pictures of our family, our parents and grandparents is so much..." He paused a moment. "To think that I am in this condition because of family is..." It was overwhelming, the visit to Locksley, the connections to the very people who had injured him so deeply, it was just too much for him to take in.

"Perhaps if you spoke of your childhood here at Locksley with Anthony," Edith interjected. Anthony's relief was visible to everyone. And he was grateful for her presence, guiding the conversation away from the only memories he had, painful ones. They spent the next hour with Agatha telling stories about their childhood at Locksley.

Edith sensed how tired Anthony was growing and finally suggested that it was time to return to Downton. As they stood to leave, Anthony remembered his mission for the afternoon. "Oh, I want to ask if you know who my solicitor is?"

Agatha looked at him curiously. "Your solicitor? Surely you aren't worried about business yet?" She was looking at him worriedly.

"No, well…. yes, in a way. I simply want to begin to understand what is required for the upkeep at Locksley. And there are a few matters that I wish to have settled."

Looking no less satisfied, Agatha answered. "Well, unless you changed solicitors, you were most likely using Gerrard and McClain in London. They've been solicitors for Locksley for at least three generations."

"That is likely to change," Anthony said. "I won't explain now but I believe I have met someone who can help me with these matters and is much closer to Locksley. I have no desire to travel to London to meet with solicitors." Anthony paused for a moment. "Oh, and who is the estate manager? We do have one, I assume."

"Philpott. George Philpott," Agatha supplied, looking at him skeptically. "He lives in the cottage just beyond the orchard and has managed things for over twenty years, I believe. He was a brick when Maud died. I don't think you or the estate would have made it without him here. I do hope you aren't thinking of dismissing him?"

"No, not at all. I just…. Well, I need to start preparing …."

Agatha smiled. "Yes, Locksley and all the tenants have missed you."

Anthony's smile in reply was not a sincere one but he offered it none the less. Everything was still so new and unsure to him and he knew he wasn't prepared to meet a lot of people who were anxious to renew things with him. The very thought of such a scenario made him nervous. But he did have the names he needed now and Matthew could proceed. That in itself was encouraging to him.

Anthony sat quietly, watching Edith as she drove them back to Downton. She really is a lovely creature, he mused. It's as if her hair has little touches of gold… I wonder if we should be blessed with children, what their hair might look like. I do hope they have touches of gold like their mother. Anthony blinked as he realized where his thoughts were taking him. Children? With Edith? What a pleasant thought. He wore a deeply happy smile the rest of the way back.