There was a great hubbub coming from the court. Anthony, Edith, and the lorry driver were sat in an area reserved for witnesses. The last thing that they heard before the doors were closed was the Court Clerk declaring "All rise for their Lords Justice Beete, Flogham, and Smite. The case to be heard: Crown v. Strallan. First witness: call Andrew Bloggs, Chief Court Usher."
Edith looked at Anthony her brow furrowed from worry and confusion.
"Why is it 'Crown v. Strallan' not 'Crown v. Bear'?"
"That goes right to the heart of the case. Paddington can't be the defendant because in law he is 'just' an animal. Look" he said quietly so only she would hear, "are you sure you're all right? You don't have to give evidence if you're not feeling up to it."
"I'm fine. And I must give evidence. If I didn't and we lost I would never forgive myself."
"Please, I would be so much happier if you'd agree to be seen by a doctor, Edith. Let me call one round when we get…"
Worry about leaving Downton in the middle of the night without a word, nerves about her upcoming appearance in one of the most public courts in the land, and the shock of the near miss with the lorry combined to push Edith over the edge of decorum. She interrupted Anthony brusquely.
"So now you care! Why didn't you care in Downton Church? When I was more broken by you than I ever would have been if that lorry had mashed me into The Strand!"
He hung his head, a lead weight of shame borne on his shoulders. It was bound to come up, he knew, sooner or later. He forced himself to look back at her, a sea of blue sadness in his eyes. He opened his mouth to answer her, though he knew there was absolutely nothing he could possibly say to make his apology anywhere near adequate.
"Call Sir Anthony Strallan!"
The Court Clerk waited at the door for him. He stood hesitantly, looked back at Edith as though he was about to say something, shook his head, then walked into the court. The ancient doors swung closed behind him. Edith and the lorry driver were left to their own thoughts for some time. As soon as Anthony had gone, she felt bad about snapping at him. It was clear to her now that something had pushed him over the edge that day, something dreadful which had caused him to commit an awful act, so out of keeping with his sweet and chivalrous nature. She had suspected that it might have been her father, or even Mary again. But both of them had remained at Downton with her. Hadn't they?
"Ahem. Lady Edith?"
She was brought back to reality by a pair of shining black shoes which came to a halt in front of her. Looking further up, she saw pinstripe trousers pressed with razor-sharp creases, and then the serious, judging face of Mr Murray, her father's man of business.
"I have been looking for you all over London, my lady. Your father is worried; he telephoned me and asked me to find you. Now I can, at least, tell him that you are safe."
"Oh. I...erm...I'm sorry you've been troubled, Mr Murray."
"Lord Grantham was emphatic that I inform him where you are staying."
Edith was silent. She didn't want anyone to know that she was staying with Anthony, but she didn't want to lie either.
"Lady Edith?"
He sounded exasperated, annoyed, and increasingly impatient. Edith, already not in a mood to be bullied, straightened her back and narrowed her eyes.
"It is obvious that the Crawleys have already presumed too much upon your kindness. I will telephone Downton myself and save you any further trouble. Now I must continue my preparations before I am called. Thank you and good day, Mr Murray."
Edith had not often had to play the part of the proud, titled lady who believed implacably that she had a right to order other people about, nor did she often want to, but twenty-odd years of watching her mother and grandmother had taught her that if you said a thing with enough force and confidence, most people bowed to your will. Mr Murray dealt with the aristocracy on a daily basis, but even he seemed to be taken aback, as though a previously sweet and docile puppy had suddenly growled. The two of them stared each expecting the other to back down.
The stalemate was broken by the Court Clerk calling for her. She picked up her bag, nodded at Murray imperiously, and went through the doors as Anthony came out. The former fiancées shared a look.
"I think it's going well. Matthew's doing a grand job. Good luck" he said quietly as she passed.
Murray was not a dullard. That small exchange was all he needed.
…
The three Judges deliberated for less than fifteen minutes. When they pronounced their judgment they found unanimously in Paddington's favour. They said there was no admissible argument against his having rights as a person when he was so obviously possessed of intellect, a sense of morality, and bravery. It was ordered that Paddington should be released immediately and the case referred to the Houses of Parliament.
Edith and Anthony waited for Paddington to be formally released. He thanked the Court officials politely, then shook paws with Anthony warmly.
"The first battle won, Sir Anthony. I don't know how to thank you."
"Don't count your chickens yet, young bear. Wait until we get through the next battle before you thank me."
"Sir, even if I end up merely being your pet in legal terms, I will always be grateful to you."
Edith could see the tears in Anthony's eyes and his lips held stiffly together in a brave attempt not to let his emotions overwhelm him. To save his pride, she took Paddington's paw to lead him out into The Strand where Stewart would be waiting to take them all home to Strallan House. Matthew would be held up making sure all the legal papers were correct and in order, and would join them later.
"I believe that Mrs Bird has prepared a celebratory dinner! I don't know about you, Paddington, but I feel like a bath to wash all that law off before I can enjoy it properly."
They left the Royal Courts of Justice chattering merrily with Anthony following gratefully behind.
…
Dinner was not exactly celebratory. More like...just very relieved.
"Even if we don't get any further than this, Paddington, the worst that can happen is that I am fined for illegally taking in a bear without a licence. Isn't that so, Matthew?" Anthony turned to his advocate. Matthew was staring into air, deep in thought, but the sound of his name jolted him back.
"Mm? Oh, yes. Yes, Sir Anthony...well, there is the little matter of how Paddington got here, since you didn't import him, nor did anyone export him from Peru except himself. But I'd like to see how the courts tackle that one!"
"Aunt Lucy put me on the boat to England" said Paddington. "She won't get into any trouble, will she?"
Suddenly, Paddington was very worried again. Edith smiled understandingly and took his paw, giving him as much reassurance as she could.
"She can't be charged with anything, not in this country. And I shouldn't think the Peruvian authorities are a bit bothered" Celia chipped in. "You stowed away on the boat, but since neither you, nor your Aunt Lucy, are allowed to be considered free agents...not yet at least...they can't hold anyone to blame for that either."
Paddington smiled again. "Good, good. I must write to her to let her know things are much more satisfactory." So while the humans adjourned to the library for coffee and liqueurs, he bid everyone goodnight and went upstairs to his bedroom, spending a very content half hour lying in his lovely bear bed, composing a reassuring letter to his aunt, before dropping off for the best night's sleep he'd had in weeks.
…
"You're distracted, Matthew. Is there something you know and we don't?" Edith caught her cousin by the coffee pot and spoke quietly with worry in her voice.
"It's nothing to do with Paddington. That's a straightforward fight now to win the vote in the two Houses of Parliament. Considering the sort of comments the judges and other barristers were making at the RCJ after the public left, I actually think we may be in with a chance. And if we can introduce Paddington to as many Lords and MPs as we can, all the better."
"But something's getting to you, isn't it? Can I help?"
"I wish you could. But I know enough about your family to know that you can't. It's Mary." He withdrew a folded telegram from his waistcoat pocket and gave it to her. It read
SEE YOU'VE TAKEN ON A COUPLE OF LOST CAUSES IN BEAR AND STRALLAN *STOP* IF YOU'RE TRYING TO IMPRESS ME DON'T BOTHER *STOP* PAPA WILL BE VOTING AGAINST YOU IN THE HOUSE
"I didn't know she was that fond of you" Edith muttered with a smile as she handed the note back to him.
"What?" he exclaimed incredulous.
"Matthew, if she really didn't love you, she would have cast you out of her mind and never given you another thought. That's just how she is. Instead, she's sending you taunting telegrams. I think there's two messages here: firstly, she's still thinking of you; and secondly, I think she's warning us about Papa."
"Oh. Gosh!" She put a friendly hand on his arm, and left him even deeper in thought than before.
…
Once Matthew had gone home, Anthony, Edith, and Celia were left alone...and in silence. Anthony and Edith were obviously acutely embarrassed by being in the same room, and Celia didn't talk much anyway. But she was a ferociously incisive observer. She looked from Edith to her brother to her coffee cup and then back again, gauging the atmosphere between the couple. Something was wrong. She decided to cut them some slack and excused herself for a moment to visit the powder room.
"How are you feeling now, Edith?"
"I want to apologise."
They spoke tentatively but at exactly the same time, not quite hearing what the other had said. At least it broke the tension. They both gave a small, uncomfortable laugh
"Do go on" Anthony offered, ever the gentleman.
"I...I just wanted to apologise for snapping at you. I was still shaken by the near miss with the lorry I think."
"Edith, you had...have every right to berate me for what I did to you at Downton Church. It's just, well, I know that it was unforgivable, that there's absolutely nothing I can say to apologise, nothing I can do to make it better."
"You can tell me what made you do it, what your reasons were."
"You know my reasons, Edith. I'm too old and crippled ever to give you the happiness you deserve."
"No! We had sorted that out. Something else must have happened. Tell me!" She was getting upset and frustrated again.
Anthony looked around him, but failed to find anything that would save him from telling her the truth.
"There were...comments...among the congregation at the Church...comments I could not ignore…"
"What sort of comments? Who said them? Did they actually say them to your face, or were they talking behind your back?"
Suddenly, she was as tenacious as a terrier with a bone. No wonder she's such a good journalist Anthony thought.
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that they brought me to my senses. And I did the only sensible, compassionate thing open to me in the circumstances."
"Compassionate? You broke my heart!"
He looked, and felt, like a squirming insect impaled on a pin. He kept quiet, partly because he knew he deserved this torture, partly because he had never truly believed that Edith loved him. Yet here she was saying that he'd broken her heart. Could it be true? Did she really love him? Had he made the most appalling mistake?
Edith meanwhile had noticed something familiar about Anthony's choice of words.
"Wait! 'The sensible thing to do'? It was Granny, wasn't it? She poured poison into your ear!"
"I'm afraid it was. But she was right!"
"She most certainly was not right! . But if you had actually loved me then it wouldn't have mattered. You wouldn't have run. You came to your senses and realised what a horrible marriage you were making. Who wants the dull, awkward, ugly Crawley sister for a wife?!"
It was too much for Anthony.
"I ran because I loved you…because I still love you! Because I want you more than the stars and the earth! And if I gave in, even just for a second, I would never have had the courage to give you your freedom. I had to let you go."
Edith stopped weeping and stared at him. He'd never said anything like this before. Anthony looked stricken that he had confessed. She really shouldn't know. She would only try to pursue him again. And it was so wrong.
Celia walked down the corridor in silence, listened at the door, heard no noise, presumed nothing had happened, and entered the quiet room saying "So, I think it's bedtime, don't you?"
...
This was meant to be a one-shot...
As usual, my plans were pushed politely, but firmly, aside by Anthony and Edith, and aided this time by a small, accident-prone, Peruvian bear. I am sorry for the delays between postings while I struggle to keep THEIR ideas on track. I mean, have you ever taken dictation from a bear?! It's not easy.