England, 1880

"And may I introduce my daughter, Lady Mary Crawley?"

"Lady Mary Talbot now." Lady Mary extended her hand to John. "My father's told me nothing but good things about you."

"He's too kind and generous."

"Are you sure we're speaking of the same man?" Lady Mary's smile brought a laugh from John before she shifted to bring the shorter, blonde woman forward. "And this is my dear friend Lady Anna Smith, Duchess of Cranburchurry."

"The pleasure is mine, your grace." John took Lady Anna's hand and kissed the back of it.

"I'm sure some of the pleasure should be reserved for me." Lady Anna smiled, ad he almost abhorred the idea of having to return her hand. Since she did not immediately move from his grip, John played with the notion she might not mind it so much either. "I certainly enjoyed hearing you speak."

"He does like to hear himself speak." They released each other's hands at the same moment when Lady Mary's father spoke. "But that's why he's the one giving speeches and not anyone else. They can't string two sentences together."

"They try." John chided, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "But Robert's just being generous with him compliments because he hopes I'll still present and back his bill to the House."

"And why wouldn't you when it's the best bill you've read in months?" Robert held up a finger, "I do believe you said it was, and I quote, 'pure poetry in motion'."

"Probably because his lordship wrote it." Lady Mary took her father's arm, "I believe there was someone else we needed to speak to about tomorrow night's festivities before we lose them to the gaming tables."

John tried to hide his smile as Lady Mary tugged Robert away from them, leaving he and Lady Anna alone in the corridor as the bustle of Parliament dismissing for the day steadily receded into the background. "I suppose she could've made her intentions more obvious but then it would've been impertinent."

"Mary's always had a way of being as obvious as necessary but never so much so that it's suffocating." Lady Anna sighed, "And I did rather enjoy your speech on the floor today. It was… Moving."

"I'm sure you've listened to more than a few politicians who say what they believe people want to hear."

"Some but most of them are only speaking until they've got their coffers full enough for a fancy party at the expense of people." Lady Anna surveyed the corridor and shook her head. "I never did like coming here."

"Parliament?"

She nodded, "My father, God rest his soul, took a very strong position on his duty to those he served. He believed in being here to fight for them. And that meant more time here and less time in Yorkshire with us."

"That must've come at a great cost to you and your family."

A tight smile graced her lips, "Cost to me, anyway."

John ducked his head, wincing, "I had heard stories about the Dowager of Cranburchurry but I didn't want to speculate or cast aspersions."

"I'm sure it was no surprise, to anyone, how quickly she married after my father passed." Lady Anna's smile turned a bit more real. "What was a surprise was how much she and her new husband wouldn't inherit of my father's holdings or title… Which I felt was the kind of shock they deserved."

She cringed, "I apologize if that was… Impertinent."

"You are the leader of your house now, your grace, which I believe means you're allowed to say what you wish." John tightened his grip on the head of his cane. "If we have been left to our own devices, would you take offense if I invited you to tea? I have a rather decent spread ready for me at one of the nearby houses."

Lady Anna took a breath, "I certainly wouldn't refuse you, your lordship, and I do believe that is why Lady Mary left us alone."

"I believe it is." He opened his hand in the direction of their intention. "Just this way, if you please Lady Anna."

"And if you please," She held up a hand, "I'd rather not have you refer to me as 'Lady Anna'. I'm just Anna."

"I couldn't call you anything less than your title."

"Then call me 'Ms. Smith'. It's at least a bit more ordinary."

John paused, "Do you want to be ordinary?"

Lady Anna nodded, "Don't you?"

"Only when I forget the good I can do from the position I occupy."

"You could do just as much good, if on a smaller scale, as an every-day person." Lady Anna shrugged as they went out onto the street. "People do good every day and they don't have our resources or our titles."

John kept silent for a moment as they waited to cross the street. When they did, she kept pace with him. Her smaller stature made the difference his cane added to his pace vanish. It gave him a smile that he turned into a nod when she looked at him. "I suppose you're right about that. But is it not the responsibility of those in our position to do good with what we're given?"

"I never said it wasn't." Lady Anna waited for John's next direction. "I merely said that I think ordinary people do good as well. That perhaps the excuse of our position is not to wrest on our laurels, believing we're in our positions so we'll be the only ones doing good, but to do even more because we're enabled to do so."

"To be better because we can be?"

"Correct."

John sucked the inside of his cheek a moment before nodding, "Then, in the interest of being like everyone else, I believe I would like you to call me 'Mr. Bates'. It's a name I carry with great pride."

"I'm sure your father would be proud you have it."

"He might be but he never carried it." John winced, "I'm… I inherited my titles through an uncle."

"The previous Lord of Dunsaine, Burnsbury, and Colfe?"

"Yes, the Lord Branden." John paused at another corner, eyeing the traffic. "He took me as his heir when he had no children because I was his brother's son… But my father never claimed me as his."

"Are you…" Lady Anna paused as they reached the other side of the street and John nodded. "You must think me terribly rude, for judging you for even a moment. It's not my place and-"

"You actually took it much better than all the boys at school did." John guided them into the tea house and signaled the woman behind the counter. "They were… markedly less kind about it."

"Then, if I may ask, why tell me at all?" Lady Anna trailed him as they took a booth set toward the back, away from the tables that filled and emptied quickly with the crowd in a bit more of a hurry. "We've only just met and it's not exactly the kind of conversation one has with a stranger."

"Because you spoke of wanting to be ordinary and as someone who was once nobody and now can say I am…" John stopped, distracting himself for a moment by putting his cane on the back of his chair. "I've been a bastard boy, with no father, and a poor Irish mother and it's not like the stories Mr. Dickens tells."

"I thought he displayed a rather bleak and dismal life for those whose fortunes were, by whatever god or fate decided they should be, not as blessed as my own." Lady Anna put her fingers on the table, splaying them so the leather of her gloves creaked slightly. "My father always insisted that I not be ignorant of the conditions of those who, for a lack of the grace of God, suffered while we did not. So please, sir, do not believe I am ignorant or bear some rustic fantasy of life being idyllic in suffering I've never personally experienced."

John studied her a moment before speaking, "I seem to continue to put my foot rather firmly in my mouth when I speak to you, Ms. Smith."

"If you do, I believe it's because you're relying on instinctual reactions you've developed while dealing with those of the class you inherited, Mr. Bates." Lady Anna smiled at the girl who brought them tea and waited as the set was placed before them. "I don't take offense."

"Because I continue to assume the worst of your intentions and comments?"

"Because you've been bred and trained to assume the worst." Lady Anna poured the tea for both of them. "And, on the whole, your assumptions are probably correct. Many others would need the defenses you've built around yourself."

"But not you?"

She set the teapot to the side and met his gaze without reaching for her tea. "I didn't come to speak to you after your speech on the floor because you made it, Mr. Bates. I came to speak to you because I believe in what you said. That our impulses and desires, as a nation and as leaders of that nation, must be for the betterment of mankind. Of our people and our nation but also for all people."

Her hand waved about them, "All of this is because of God's charity. We earned none of it. Not even the air we breathe is ours to claim or use. Not really. And despite what self-made men or mercantile empires may claim, we're all simply living off the gifts of God and fate. At any moment they could be gone and we'll be left with nothing." She sat back, "I believe the tragedy of most of our class is that they waste their gifts and talents. They believe they are entitled to what they have. That they are owed it because of their blood. Blood as red and ordinary as any you'd find bleeding from those young men they'll so callously throw at any Hun or Chinaman or Boer. Blood that only means we're human."

John did not speak as she took another breath, "It is the duty of those with the resources we have to use them. To endow our gifts in service of our fellowman. And not just those who look or sound like us but those who could be us. Would be us if not for the twist of fate that had us born in the houses we inherited instead of a slum or a gutter. The only difference between myself and the girl who brought our tea is a name that means nothing if I do nothing with it."

Lady Anna gathered herself, "I'm sorry. I can get off on a tear when I want to and it's… It's impolite and not at all proper."

"I think you'll find, Ms. Smith, that I'm not exactly fussed about being proper myself." John smiled at her. "I've never heard a woman who speaks like you do."

"I've never had a Lord from Parliament tell me in our first conversation that he's not a legitimate son of his house." Lady Anna finally put her cup to her lips. "It almost seemed as if you were trying to warn me off you."

"Isn't that why Lady Mary had us speak?" John took his cup, "Because she wants to use me for her purposes?"

"What purposes do you think she has in mind?"

"The kind that suggest she'd like to take advantage of my situation as a widower to, perhaps, aid in your situation as a widow."

"Not quite a widow." Lady Anna replaced her cup on her saucer. "My husband has been declared missing, not dead. The authorities in India are still sure they can find a trace of his ship."

"And yet your mother, the Dowager of Cranburchurry, has already begun the legal legwork of freeing you from your marriage so you can be used again?"

"I prefer the term, 'put up for auction', as that's what it is to be a woman of my wealth and position in my state of matrimony."

"I imagine the vultures at your door only differ from mine in terms of gender." John took another sip of his tea.

"There's a bit less scandal around my person, as an individual, but otherwise you'd be right." Lady Anna sighed. "And you're right about why Lady Mary seemed intent on our meeting. She made me promise to at least hear you speak before I ruled you out as a sufficient alternative to the kind of man my mother continues to throw in my path."

"It almost makes is sound as though she's hunting for pheasants."

"She's hunting for relevance in a world that has determined those with nothing to offer are little more than background paintings in galleries." Lady Anna took another sip of her tea. "The real trouble, Mr. Bates, is that I do not want to be married but the threat of my being a widow is the loss of my company and the mercantile empire I manage through it."

"A single woman cannot be trusted to own anything, it seems."

"So it would seem." Lady Anna shook her head, "Lady Mary's husband, Henry Talbot, is one of my staunchest supporters on the board and he's been attempting, by what she tells me, to fend off those who believe my lack of husband represents a fault in leadership but that's a lie."

"Because your husband never ran the company to begin with, did he?"

Lady Anna shook her head again. "I do hope, Mr. Bates, that your frankness in our conversation would allow me some of my own."

"It doesn't seem to've stopped you yet."

She only paused a second, her lips quirking as if trying to suppress a smile or a scowl, before continuing. "My husband was a marriage of convenience. I do not love him and I never did. While I am genuinely sorry to here of his disappearance I'll not mourn him. Not fully. And should his obituary be mine to write I will not cry over it. I will simply move onward and possibly never think of him again."

"I wish I could say the same about my wife."

"The trouble is, Mr. Bates, you are a man. The power is still yours to command over your holdings, your inheritance, and whatever investments you've made. My power, however, only comes through whatever man I marry. That being said," She pushed her tea to the side. "I do not intend to take a husband like my last so if you are to be one that Lady Mary would have me consider then I must know a few things."

"And now we've reached it." John drained his cup. "We're to be the conveniences for one another, is that it?"

"I'm sure we could both do worse."

"I've, as yet, failed to do better." John opened his hands to her. "What things must you know about me, Ms. Smith, to soothe whatever worries you'd have over our possible and advantageous union?"

"Did you have any hand, at all, in the death of your wife?"

"None at all." He gnawed the inside of his cheek. "Did you have anything to do with the disappearance of your husband at sea?"

"I'm no Calypso, Mr. Bates." Lady Anna's mouth did twitch toward a smile. "Do you know why your wife was facing charges of adultery?"

"Because I happened to find her, on more than one occasion, with a man who was not me engaging in sexual endeavors." John shrugged, "I was willing to forgive the first, believing that perhaps I was at fault for a dissolution of our marriage, but after the third time there was no forgiveness left in me for her."

"Were you ever cruel to her?"

"Not physical no, but I do admit that when I drank I happened to develop a very sharp tongue and I cut her to the quick more than once."

Lady Anna straightened in her chair, her face entirely blank. "Would you ever physically hurt a woman, Mr. Bates?"

"No. I don't believe in it." He paused, eyes narrowing. "But if we're being blunt, I would ask if your husband every physically harmed you."

"He did." Lady Anna shifted, "But that's not a topic I'd like to discuss further at this time, if you'll allow me the courtesy of keeping it to myself for the moment."

"I'll respect your privacy." John sat back. "But I've a feeling you've more questions for me. To determine my 'worthiness', as it were."

"I've already stated we're already at a distinct disadvantage by the nature of our very genders, Mr. Bates, so perhaps a little upset in that particular dynamic would not be amiss in this?" Lady Anna waited to continue until John gave a little laugh and nodded. "I've only one more question."

"Which is?"

"Did you mean what you said on the floor of Parliament?" He blinked slowly at her. "For I won't stand someone who says one thing but does another."

John allowed his face to sober and his tongue ran over his lips to wet them before he spoke. "I meant every word, Ms. Smith. I served my country in China and while those of my current social standing did so to gain prestige or come back bathed in glory, I went because I felt it was my duty. Some of them never came back at all. And those who did…"

He took a breath, "It's all well and good for the country to rave about doing good through war of being patriots but when their sons come home broken and limbless, their minds in shambles, their souls torn from them, their eyes dead to all that's good in life, and their lives wasted I have to ask myself what was it for?"

"Do you know?"

"I know what the old men who served so long ago they forgot what it was like or never served at all so all they've got are the stories they tell themselves about grandeur and glory but me…" John shook his head, "I can't say I've ever fought for anything that meant so much that I'd kill for it again. At least not in war."

"And you hope to end the war to save those lives?"

"I hope to stop this greedy, disgusting desire to seize all we can see and call it ours even if it means we have to stab the pole on which our flag waves through the stomach of the native who lived there first." John almost hissed and stopped himself, "I apologize, that's hardly the language of a gentleman when speaking to a lady."

"It may be my title, sir, but I don't pretend to be one."

John met Anna's eyes across the table. "From our conversation, Ms. Smith, I'd have to disagree."

"You would?"

"Most ardently." John swallowed, "You're a lady to me and, to date, I've never met a finer one."

Lady Anna gave him a small, but real, smile. "That's one of the kindest things anyone's said to me in a very long time. Mr. Bates."

"I'd like to say more kind things to you, if you'd allow me." John offered her his hand. "In fact, if you'd do me the great privilege, I'd very much like to take you to the Crawley's ball tomorrow evening."

Her gloved hand landed on his, "I'd like that a great deal, Mr. Bates."

"Then please," He kissed her hand through the leather. "Call me John."

"Only if you'll call me Anna."

"I think I could manage that now."

Grantham Archives and Museum, Present Day

John kept to himself, working diligently on the paperwork she assigned him, and left Anna to her own devices. Devices she insisted, while he occupied the same space as she did, would keep her occupied but aware of him. She tracked how he moved, the times he left for the loo or to eat, and even when he could occasionally stretch. Even through the otherwise sound-canceling headphones he seemed to have, she noted his musical tastes.

When the clock ran down toward five he cleared his space and turned to her. "I'm not sure the protocol about heading out or anything but-"

"You simply scan out and make sure you've got your ID or you'll not be allowed back into the building." Anna kept her focus on her email. "And your ID doesn't allow you in on the weekends without approval from Mrs. Crawley. You'll have to check with her about what privileges and times she's allowed you to do whatever work she's got in mind for you."

"Not the work you've got in mind?"

Anna blinked and turned to him, "You don't work for me. You work for Mrs. Crawley. She's-"

"The head of hiring, not the department." John shrugged, "Maybe I'm just a little confused but I thought you were the head of the department."

"I am." Anna held herself straighter in her chair. "But Mrs. Crawley's-"

"Gone for the day." John jerked his thumb over her shoulder and Anna noted Mary's empty office. "And I've not got an ID badge because they couldn't get me on printed until tomorrow. So…"

Anna sighed, closing her eyes and counting to five before she stood from her desk. Carefully pulling at her ID, the piece of leather, and her keys, she finally turned to John. "I'll escort you out then."

"I can stay until you're finished."

"But you're done."

"With what you gave me to do, not with work if I don't have to be."

Anna's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

"I'm not here to clock in and clock out when the time's up. I just wanted to know the policy since it's not clear in the information packet." He held it up. "And I was under the impression that the work's not done until the boss is done. Since you're still here…"

"I like being here alone, on occasion, and I insist you keep to whatever schedule you have. It'll give you a life outside of this place."

"Do you have a life outside of this place?"

Anna stiffened, "That, Mr. Bates, is none of your concern."

"I'm sorry," He held up his hands. "I'm just… You've not said a single word to me since you finished the rather terse tour this morning."

"I didn't think talking was necessary."

"But you thought watching me was necessary?" Anna failed at not blinking at his comment. "I noticed every time you checked on me and if this is some sort of test then I'd like to know. If it's a hazing or initiation or something then I think that's fine but I thought I was hired outside of a probationary period."

"You were, Mr. Bates, it's just…" Anna closed her eyes, running her thumb over the piece of leather on the knuckle of her first finger and counted five before speaking. "I'm not used to having someone in my office and I don't normally take over the training of new employees. You're not the only one new to this scenario."

"And you don't like new scenarios?"

"No, I don't." Anna pulled herself taller. "Mr. Bates, I'm not sure if you noticed but I'm not… I'm not like other people."

"I don't think anyone's really like other people."

"It's…" Anna cleared her throat. "I've a condition that makes it very difficult for me to read people. I don't understand jokes, sarcasm, or some facial expressions. I prefer a very strict schedule and a certain amount of space. It's a system and a life that requires a great deal of rigor and has very little room for flexibility."

John nodded, "So you're on the spectrum?"

"So said a few doctors."

He nodded again, "Then I'll offer my condolences."

"My condition is no reason to-"

"About your husband, Mrs. Smith." John stood from his stool, "It must be doubly hard for you. You not only lost someone you loved but someone who helped you put your world in order."

"How'd you-" Anna frowned, "How'd you know that about my husband?"

"Because I know what it's like to be the person someone depends on when they're not at home in the world around them." John took a breath, "My mother had dementia when she passed. It was early on-set, some of the earliest the doctors had ever seen, and they… They couldn't help her."

"You said your mother had cancer."

"She did and that is what took her, in the end, but as the poison filled her system in the hopes it'd kill the cancer before it killed her, her mind failed her." John's voice shook as he continued and Anna struggled to understand the emotions the expressions on his face tried to convey but she failed to grasp them all. "She was so frail, strapped to machines trying to keep her alive while killing her, and she couldn't depend on anyone. No two faces were alike, all the doctors changed, and I was the only thing that grounded her. The only thing she had to hold onto."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a laminated card. One that, despite the efforts to keep the paper protected, bore signs of bending and folding until the corners split and dog-eared. He handed it over to Anna and she carefully managed it to examine the writing on it. "A friend gave that to me when my mother passed and… I don't know if you're one for poetry or prose but-"

"I don't understand poetry." Anna tried to hand it back but John held up his hands to stop her. "It'll do me no good."

"It's more prose than poetry and the sentiments in it are…" He shrugged, "Maybe it'll give you some comfort."

"Or give you the comfort."

"No." John shook his head, "It's a gift."

Anna held the card for a moment before nodding. "Then thank you. I'm sure I'll read it and, maybe, understand it."

"I hope so." John shrugged, "And if you're finished watching me for the day then I'll get out of your hair."

"You'll not get very far without an ID." Anna tucked the card into her pocket and nodded to the door. "I'll escort you out."

After John collected his things they wove through the doors of the museum until Anna led him out the employees exit. "Since you'll not get your ID until tomorrow, I'll need you to meet me here tomorrow morning no later than eight. Otherwise you'll no way in unless someone breaks protocol."

"Right." John gave her a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow morning Mrs. Smith."

"Tomorrow morning Mr. Bates." Anna watched him leave through the gate, waving to the security guard, before heading back into the building.

The office was quiet with everyone else gone and Anna sat back at her desk to finish the email she began before John's conversation. As she sat the edge of the card in her pocket poked her and Anna dug it free, finally studying the prose written there. A message she then pressed to her scanner to add as an image to the email she addressed to Jaime.

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just 'round the corner. All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

-Henry Scott Holland, Death Is Nothing at All.

Anna sent the email, with no other message, and shut off her computer. She sat there, alone in her office, and read the card over and over as her fingers caressed and memorized the details and minutia of the lamination. Even the bent and pulling creases of the plastic pulling away from its seal.

And, as she read it again, she blinked away a tear.