So this chapter takes place not too long after the previous one - I just wanted to get a bit of perspective on each of the girls' feelings about this topic, which is why there has been so much attention on anything Patrick related.
This will be the last chapter for a while that has such a focus on Mary's marriage to Patrick, as I don't want that theme to overtake the whole story .
Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed etc. this story - it really means a lot.
Enjoy :)
17
The past couple of months have been something of a trial for Edith; between Sybil's restless enthusiasm for everything dirty or dangerous, Mary's crowing over every potential suitor she's met during her first season, Patrick's moping over the now infamous rejection, and her parent's strained conversations about said rejection, Edith feels like her head may be about to explode.
Their arrival back home comes as a welcome relief to the middle Crawley sister. Although she is saddened at the prospect of not seeing Patrick for a number of months, she is almost glad that she will not have to watch his sad, puppy dog eyes as he pines after her ungrateful, unworthy sister.
Now, with hundreds of miles between them, Edith can remember him as she has done since she was a young child; a gallant, chivalrous gentleman who will soon realise that the woman of his dreams has been in front of him this whole time. Over the last few weeks Edith has felt her pity and empathy for him turn to shame and disdain as his melancholia began to cast a dark cloud over all family proceedings but she hopes that, with a little distance, those feelings will become a thing of the past and she can get back to loving him with her whole heart.
Edith's musings are cut short by a tap on her bedroom door.
"Come in!" she calls, hoping she can be rid of her intruder quickly and get back to her quiet solitude; something she has sorely missed recently.
"Sorry, darling," her mother's kind face peers around the door, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
It's on the tip of Edith's tongue to say yes, but her mother so rarely seeks her out to talk that she finds herself intrigued as to what she may want.
Cora comes to sit next to her on the bed, fixing her with her bright blue eyes; that secretive little half smile, that always seems to be adorning her face, very much in place. She tucks a lock of pale, red hair behind Edith's ear before taking one of the girl's small, pale hands in her own.
The silence stretches on and Edith finds herself becoming frustrated once more. Cora has sought her out, has disturbed her much needed peace and quiet, and yet she is sitting there, staring, and not saying a single word. Edith can feel her palms becoming clammy and her heartrate speeding up as the rage that she's increasingly fuelled by threatens to spill over. There's a knowing look in Cora's eyes as she steadily watches her middle child and Edith wonders whether that isn't her mother's plan in coming here, to watch her fight and fret against her natural instincts, or to push her over the edge completely.
But then Cora is smoothing her hand over her hair again, whispering gentle, soothing words against her temple as Edith finds herself sobbing uncontrollably against her mother's chest. She's not sure when exactly she started crying, or even why the tears have come; but having her mother here to comfort her, when usually she must face her agonies alone, makes her feel better and worse all at the same time.
As she tries to calm her ragged breathing, gasping and hiccupping against Cora's warm skin, she wonders whether it might be a good time to unburden her heartache onto her mother. Would she find her mother understanding and encouraging? Or would she be scolded for daring to speak out against her precious Mary?
"Darling, it's alright-"
Cora doesn't get to finish that thought as Edith violently wrenches herself from her mother's gentle grasp, she can hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, can feel her blood boiling at the audacity of them all; her mother, Mary - even Patrick is not guiltless in her torment.
"How – how can you say that?" she gasps between sobs. "How can you sit there and say that it will be alright, when you know it won't?! You – you come in here and pretend that you care, when really all you want is for me to bury my feelings, my heartache, to make the way clear for Mary to take what is rightfully mine, again!"
"Now Edith, really; stop being so childish."
"Childish?! You call me childish? When Mary can reject the man that she is going to marry, can break his heart as if it were a worthless trinket, just so she can spend a few seasons flirting and making herself feel like a popular little princess! She is the childish one, mother. She is the one who needs to learn her place! One day – one day, Patrick may not be there for her, he may decide that someone else is more worth his time, that someone else deserves his love and affection, and then you will all be sorry!"
She stops, finally; the tears have dried on her hot face, which she knows will be ridiculously blotchy and puffy, and her breathing comes in short, painful bursts. There is an overwhelming sense of relief, however, at having spoken her mind so forcefully; she only wishes it were likely to make a difference.
"And would that someone be you?" the placating, pitying tone, the sympathetic little head tilt, that insipid smile is almost too much for Edith. She turns away from her mother, closing her eyes as she catches sight of her wretched, dishevelled form in the mirror.
"And why couldn't it be me? Am I not good enough, is that it, Mother?" her voice, though she tries to sound stern and strong, wavers over the words. She has battled all her life, or so it feels, for her parents' love, for their approval and appreciation; things they seemed to heap upon Mary and Sybil with no need for either girl to lift a finger, to earn it.
"My darling," she hadn't heard her mother approach, so when warm hands touch her trembling shoulders Edith is shocked enough at the contact that she allows her mother to turn her on the spot. Blue eyes meet brown and Edith is only slightly mollified to note that Cora is not unmoved by her own torment. "My darling, you are worthy; worthy of any man you choose to give your heart to…but, my dear, that does not mean that you have a right to them, or that they must give you their heart in return."
"But Mama" she sounds petulant now, even to her own ears, "she doesn't want him; she has said so herself!"
Cora will neither confirm nor deny this, though Edith can see the truth of it plainly in her sapphire eyes; instead, she cups Edith's tear-stained cheeks in her hands and stoops slightly so their noses are almost touching. Edith can feel her warm breath tickling her face as she talks.
"Edith, what I'm telling you is for your own good, please believe me. Patrick does not love you; he loves Mary. Regardless of what Mary's feelings are," she hurries on as Edith tries to interject an objection, "he does not return yours. Marriage to anyone is difficult, but to a man whose heart you know lies with another would be untold torture – and I could never consent to allow you to put yourself through that, my darling. You have a sensitive, delicate heart, Edith, and I fear you would not bear up under such hardships as your sister would."
Edith tries to absorb her mother's words for what they are but all she hears is, once again, how Mary could do something so much better than she herself could. She makes no further objections, keen for this painful interview to be over, and allows Cora to pull her into a soft embrace.
Late in the night, when she is quite alone and unable to sleep, Edith's mind wanders unwillingly back to the conversation she had with her mother, to the family dinner where her elder sister had been uncharacteristically quiet, and to the soft sobs she had heard coming from Mary's room before bed.
She can see wisdom, now, in her mother's words of caution, although she still would willingly face those trials as long as she had Patrick by her side, but another thought starts to niggle at her mind as she lays in her bleakly lit room. Her mother, she is sure, knows that Mary does not love Patrick, therefore her father also knows this; and, yet, they are willingly pushing her into this marriage. They are condemning her to a loveless life of their own making, and they do not seem to be overly hesitant about it. Her mother believes that Mary will 'bear up under such hardships', but should she really be willing to test that theory?
Edith eventually falls asleep, a strange mix of guilt, relief and wicked glee making her insides turn somersaults in her stomach. It's gratifying to think that her own happiness is worth more to her parents than Mary's is, however, the sound of her sisters' muffled crying, and the pinched, pained look she gets whenever someone even hints at marriage, saddens Edith more than she ever thought it would. She wonders if maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't all be better if Patrick found someone outside of the family to marry.
