What can I say? I've been AWOL for many reasons, including misplacing my muse. Trying to get back in the grove of writing but this one is short, at least for me. Let me hear what you think. Perhaps that will give my muse more energy. Right now, she seems quite lethargic.

Oh, and what she is willing to support is mostly fluff right now. But we could all use a little more fluffiness right now, don't you think?


Their farm visits continued throughout the week and Anthony became reacquainted with his tenants. Most had suffered loses during the war but several had been fortunate enough to have their sons return whole; at least a whole as one could be after war. Anthony could identify the former soldiers almost immediately at each farm by their expressions. He couldn't quite define it, but there was something of a lost look to them and a few showed a suppressed anger. In one or two, he recognized the look of shell shock and he was certain they recognized it in him too. He made a mental note to speak with Dr. Clarkson about it. Perhaps something could be arranged, a clinic of sorts in the village, where they might find understanding and perhaps some help. Dr. Rivers might have some advice for it, a well.

Anthony returned from each visit tired. Edith was too but not as much so. Dinners were small affairs, usually in the library. And they retired for the night early and usually only for sleep. As the visits concluded, however, Edith seemed more energetic and with the last visit concluded, she made a point of restarting their honeymoon activities, with Anthony in much agreement. "I've missed this," he murmured into her hair as he held her against him the following morning, sated.

"I've been right here," Edith mumbled back languidly.

"Yes, but I've been exhausted," he lamented. "Only once in a full week… letting the side down, I believe."

"I've been tired as well," she replied. "And I would hardly say you've let anything down. Not with your performance just now," she teased.

"Yes but…"

"But nothing my darling man; as lovely as it is to have this every day, sometimes more than once or even twice, one wouldn't expect that to last forever. We must contend with our duties too. And as we've attended to said duties this week, I'd say we are deserving of a couple of days for just us."

"Splendid idea, my sweet."

The following day, they picnicked. That was after a very long, active lie-in where Anthony executed his husbandly duties. The picnic ended much the same way. It was with rubbery legs that Anthony helped Edith carry the basket and the blanket back to the car. He spent the drive back to the house simply watching her. He knew he would never have enough of her, could never. He hoped it would be the same for her.

The second day of "just us" was spent mostly in the library. They had awakened to a cloudy sky that turned to a steady rain just before lunch. Anthony used the time to sort through some correspondence, creating different piles depending on how quickly a response was required, if one was at all. Midway through the stack, he paused. "This one is for you, my dear."

Edith looked up from the book she was reading. "Oh?"

"Yes, from Downton."

"Oh," she said with a heavier voice.

Anthony crossed the room, letter in hand, and perched on the arm of her chair. "Yes, my sweet. Your family. And we will deal with it… them. It is time, past time really, to pay them a call; don't you think?"

"No. I am quite content here with you." Her eyes glowed up at him and his heart filled with joy.

"They are your family; can't avoid them forever," he replied softly.

She sighed deeply. "I know." Eyeing the letter in his hand, she reached for it. "Oh alright…"

He sat while she opened the thing. "Its from Mama."

"Not so bad then…"

"She's inviting us to tea… with the family," she frowned.

"Well, not unexpected, I suppose."

"Granny will be there."

"Yes, well… again, not unexpected."

"Though unwanted," she answered.

"I used to think she liked me," Anthony said wistfully.

"Until you came back from the war."

"Yes, until then."

"Granny does have her opinions and seldom changes them, no matter how devastating she might be with them. And her thoughts do influence Papa. Thankfully, Mama also influences his thoughts. Mary will be a lost cause. And honestly, I'm tired of navigating all of that. I much prefer spending my time here with you."

"Where you have absolute dominion over my thoughts," he quipped.

"Yes, well... I do enjoy my power," she laughed.

"Let's accept the invitation to tea and we'll reciprocate in a week's time. And then of course, we'll see them for Christmas. Otherwise, we'll continue on here with me under your complete control," he jested.

Edith sighed. "If we must… but I warn you, your adoration will be required after we return from this tea."

"My sweet, adoring you is my favorite pastime. It will be my pleasure to continue to do the one thing I do well."

"Yes," she smiled. "You are very good at that. But practice is always a good thing, don't you think? To keep the edge?"

Anthony's eyes danced over her. "Mmmm, this is hardly the room for practice."

"Upstairs then?"

"As always, you are brilliant," he replied as he bent to find her lips with his.

Sometime later, Edith penned her response to her mother accepting the invitation to tea. Before she closed her note, she included a missive that any disparagement of Anthony or their marriage would end the visit. She knew how nasty certain members of her family could be and Edith was determined that Anthony would not be a target of their spite. Mary's face came to mind first.