I wrestled with this chapter and this is as good as it is going to get, I think. You'll recognize bits of dialog. I took some of Fellowes' words, added some of my own, threw them together and jumbled them up, and well... we'll see what you think.
Every now and then I go back and reread some of my old posts just to be sure I'm not repeating myself too much. If you ever sense that I am doing that, please tell me. There is nothing more boring than reading the same thing over and over in different stories, like the author is plagiarizing themselves.
Anyway,here we go...their wedding day.
Anthony and Edith arrived in Gretna in the afternoon. It was a beautiful day, especially for November, though a bit chilly. Once they had disembarked from the train and their luggage collected, Anthony inquired with the station master about any nearby hotels. He was directed to Gretna Hall. A cab was arranged and soon the happy couple found themselves standing in front of a large inn. Seeing Anthony's arm in a sling, the driver helped carry the bags inside where a genial middle-aged man met them. Anthony tired to explain that they would need two rooms but the man, speaking in a thick Scottish brogue, replied that they could be married that very afternoon.
"We kin perform it here or you kin walk down to the Blacksmith for an anvil ceremony. All that is required is two witnesses and the deed is quickly done."
Anthony blinked at the news. He had imagined there would be some bit of paperwork or arrangements before an actual ceremony. He felt Edith slip her hand through his elbow and give his arm a squeeze. The moment was at hand, it seemed. Quickly, Anthony decided not to over think the situation.
"We'll go to the Blacksmith, I think," he said. He wasn't certain why he chose that venue but somehow an anvil ceremony just seemed more solid. "Where might we find two witnesses?
"Oh, there'll be some folk loitering nearby. They'll witness for a pittance…or an ale at the pub."
"Right. Well, one room then please. And could you see that our bags are taken to our room? It seems we have a wedding to attend," Anthony said happily, the notion that Edith would be his that very day suddenly giving him a new sense of optimism.
The man, who Anthony later learned was named Grahame Logan, smiled broadly. "Aye, we'll see to your bags. And we'll have a nice tea set for you in your room when you return. Won't be wanting to come down for dinner tonight, I'll wager." He shot Anthony a wink, called a boy over to see to the luggage, and quickly gave them directions to the Blacksmith, which wasn't far at all.
Arriving outside the venue, Anthony paused and looked at Edith earnestly. "Are you certain about this? Won't you wake up in ten years' time and wonder why you've tied yourself to this crippled old codger? I want you to be certain because if we do this, I don't think I could ever let you go, my sweet one."
Edith reached for his left hand and surrounded it with both of hers. Looking straight into his eyes, she nodded. "I am absolutely certain," she replied. "I don't love you in spite of your injuries, you know; I love you because of them, as odd as that sounds. I can't explain it exactly, but somehow everything that happened to you reflects the kind of man you are; the kind and gentle soul who became a hero when he didn't even have to be there. You've faced everything with courage, even though I know at times you've been terribly frightened. And you've trusted me with your well-being when weren't able to trust yourself. I thought I loved you before the war, and I did in some silly girlish way. But now, I know you see me as a woman and you make me feel like a woman in every way. But more than that, you let me be your partner. I feel as if I have a purpose in life." She sighed. "With you, I am the best person I can be. Without you, I'm …. Well, not always a very nice person. You make me want to be better. So yes, I am very certain.
"But I don't want you to feel as though you must always be looking after me," Anthony responded. "I don't want to be your project. I want you to be free to fulfill your dreams."
"But don't you see, Anthony, I can be; I am, when I with you. I'm free to think my own thoughts and be the person I want to be. You've always, always been so supportive of me, encouraging me in my thoughts and opinions even when you didn't agree. You make me feel as if I matter. No one else does and never have. I know I'm not expressing any of this very well but I do love you and it isn't about pity or some sense that you need looking after. It's quite selfish of me really, to want to be your wife so very much. But even if you were my project, would it be so bad really spending my days caring for you and the family we will create together? Isn't that the whole point of marriage, caring for one another?"
Anthony frowned as he considered her words. "I suppose I am just feeling a bit selfish myself, taking a lovely young thing like you off the market and keeping you all to myself. You'll be widowed early and the time in between won't be easy and…"
"And I will extraordinarily happy spending that time with you. Besides, we aren't promised an easy life, none of us. And whatever difficulties life brings, I do know I want to face them with you beside me. And no, you aren't being selfish. You, my darling man, are the only one who has looked at me and seen a 'lovely young thing' and for that alone, I really do want you to keep me all to yourself." She paused and took a deep breath. "And if the war taught us anything, it should be that nothing is guaranteed. I could die tomorrow and leave you a widower. So, let's do what we came for and then take each day as it comes. I will be quite happy with that as long as I have you with me."
Anthony blanched at the thought of her dying and still felt uneasy about what they were about to do but couldn't seem to find an argument against what she had said. Consequently, he pushed his worries away and smiled at her nervously. "Yes, alright; as long as you are certain."
"Oh, I most unquestionably am," she replied as she hooked her hand through his arm, smiling happily, which did nothing to settle his disquiet.
Witnesses were easily found and within the hour, Anthony and Edith were married by means of the anvil ceremony complete with the striking of the anvil to seal the marriage. He'd hesitated for just a moment as they stood before the blacksmith but feeling Edith beside him gave him to courage to continue. He might have felt ten feet tall except that the Blacksmith's Shop had a low ceiling and he was stooping for fear of hitting his head. The bride and groom kissed and Anthony paid the blacksmith and the witnesses, kissed his wife again, and they departed for the hotel.
Once they were outside again and Anthony could stand up straight, a broad smile broke across his features. He glanced down at Edith, his Edith; he could call her that now. Yes, he glanced at her to see her smiling up at him. And he felt his chest would burst with the happiness he felt. "We've done it," he exclaimed happily, forgetting his concerns from just a few minutes earlier. Suddenly, the world seemed brighter.
"Yes, and I couldn't be happier," Edith replied.
"Shall we return to the hotel or would you like to walk around a bit after the train? Perhaps give you time to absorb it all?"
"Oh no, Anthony Strallan. You are not distracting me with a stroll around the village. You insisted we do things properly and now I want to go back to our room and love my husband properly."
Anthony's step paused causing Edith to stop as well, looking at him curiously. "It's just… well, it hardly seems real," he explained. "I'm … a little bewildered that it has happened, that we are married. For so long all that kept me alive, kept me sane, was thinking of you and now… now, you are mine, truly mine and not just a wish or a dream. You have no idea of the imaginings I created about… well, loving you…properly, as you say."
"Yes, my darling husband, I am yours and you are mine. It isn't a dream. Well, perhaps a dream come true… But it is real. And now we get to live it. And I am so very delighted."
Anthony leaned down and kissed his wife, right there in the middle of the road. And he didn't care that someone might be looking or what anyone might say. She was his wife now and he could kiss her freely.
Grahame Logan met them in the entry to the hotel smiling. "So, you found the Blacksmith then?"
"Yes, thank you," Anthony replied. "And now…"
"Yes, your room; of course." He motioned to a boy standing nearby. "Rab, show Sir Anthony and Lady Strallan to their room." The turning to the couple again, he smiled. "I'll have your tea sent straight up."
They followed young Rab up a short flight of stairs, along a corridor, until he stopped in front of a door. He had the key in the lock immediately, opened the door for them and stood back. Taking the hint, Anthony took hold of his wife firmly with his left arm and lifted her over the threshold. It was awkward but neither Strallan minded much. They had crossed the threshold together. Young Rab stepped into the room long enough to hand Anthony the key and then quickly disappeared, leaving them all alone.
They stood there simply staring at one another for a moment until Anthony could contain himself no more and he took Edith in his arm, pulling her close, so very close, and kissing her. He put everything he was feeling into the kiss, his happiness, his passion, and perhaps a little of his worry and when he felt her melting into him somewhat, he eased away from it, lingering over her lips simply taking in this connection that they shared. Light headed, all he could do was smile down at his bride, gazing at her face, into her eyes and relishing the joy that he felt.
She opened her mouth as if to say something but a soft knock at the door interrupted them. Releasing her from his grasp, he made for the door, a coolness falling on him as a result of the separation. Rab was on the other side holding a tea tray and looking quite sheepish, as if he knew he was interrupting something very personal. And of course, he was. But by Rab bringing the tray now, Anthony understood that they would not be disturbed again that evening, so Anthony let the boy leave the tray inside and tipped him generously as the boy left.
Edith glanced at the tray and then at Anthony as he closed the door. She looked so lovely standing there, he thought, so very desirable…
"Would you like tea?" Edith asked quietly, a look of disappointment in her features.
"I'd rather have you," Anthony said before his brain engaged. And that, it seemed, was all it took for Edith Strallen, nee Crawley, to lose any inhibitions she might have been feeling and begin the task of disrobing right there in front of her husband. All Anthony could do was stand there and watch in amazement. "My god, she is so absolutely… astonishing," he thought as his brain began to register what it was seeing. He was across the room and touching her before he'd even realized he was going to move. And so began their honeymoon.
