I don't know why this tale has taken so long. Please accept my apologies. It was started for Andith Fest 2015, and it is my intention to finish it for Andith Fest 2017. We shall see if I manage it.

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Edith had a difficult night. Anthony's declaration had rattled her. Declarations…plural, actually. At last she had discovered what had really caused Anthony to run: it had been her grandmother who had pushed him to breaking point at the church, and thinking back she could remember other censorious remarks that the Dowager Countess had said over the month of their engagement, and even before that. And those were only the ones when Edith had been present. What had Granny said to him when she hadn't been there? There had also been the night before the wedding, when Anthony had been even more withdrawn than usual after dinner. She herself had been so excited that she had put it down to his wedding nerves at the time. Had Granny got to him sometime that evening too?

But what really overwhelmed her was his other declaration, the more important one. He had really loved her. He hadn't jilted her because he didn't want to marry her. He had wanted to marry her very much, and he still had given her up because he believed that was the best thing for her. No one had ever loved her like that. He had sacrificed his happiness for hers. He'd sacrificed his happiness, his reputation, his standing in society, many of his friendships, his ability to go into the village, or even anywhere in the county, without accusing looks...the list went on and on the more she thought about it.

As far as she was concerned, that proved that he really did deserve her, arm and age and everything notwithstanding. She thought there were very few men who would have the gallantry and bravery and selflessness to do what he had done. Perhaps one man in a thousand...or more.

But until she managed to change Anthony's mind about what it was she wanted and whether she and he both deserved to have it, there was little that she could do. That had always been the problem, and she still didn't know how to solve it, but making her peace with him after last night's explosions of emotion would be a good start. She made her way down to breakfast more determined than ever that she would change Anthony's mind about her, about their situation, and about their future.

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In the breakfast room, Celia was helping herself to eggs and bacon, and Paddington was already sticky with marmalade around his muzzle. Stewart stood in attendance by the sideboard, but Anthony was not there.

"Good morning, everyone" she smiled. "Is Anthony sleeping in?"

"Heavens, no! Anthony is always up with the lark" answered Celia.

Stewart handed her a plate, and a sympathetic smile.

"Sir Anthony left about an hour ago, m'lady. He said he was going for a walk in the park, to clear his head after the efforts of the last few days. He took a bag of oats and said he was going to feed the ducks."

"Oats? For ducks?"

"Yes, my lady. Bread is actually really rather bad for ducks.**"

"Oh. Thank you Stewart."

She took a piece of toast and sat by Paddington.

"How did you sleep?"

"Much, much better, thank you, Lady Edith. And you?"

"Quite well, thank you. I'm very glad you are now back with us, Paddington."

"Do you know what happens next?" asked Celia.

"We have to lobby as many Members of Parliament and Members of the House of Lords as we can. I believe Sir Anthony has a plan in mind" Edith replied.

"Well, I hope you like tea, young bear" muttered Celia into her own teacup "because you are going to be drinking gallons of the stuff in the next few weeks!"

"If you've finished your marmalade, Paddington, why don't we wander over to the park and join Sir Anthony and find out what this plan is?"

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In actual fact, Edith really wanted to talk to Anthony alone. But that was unlikely to happen during the day, and with Celia about. Edith felt that she could trust Paddington to keep anything he heard to himself. As they strolled over to the ponds, they chatted about Paddington's letter to Aunt Lucy and which MPs and Lords Edith herself knew.

"You are very well-connected, Lady Edith!" said the bear.

"Not as well as some" she replied, thinking of Mary, and her father.

"Might I ask, how many other bears like me have you met in England?"

"None" she answered apologetically, and regretted saying it immediately when she saw Paddington's sad furry face.

"None at all?"

"No. I'm sorry Paddington" she confirmed, shaking her head sadly.

They came out from a stand of trees and saw Anthony. He was standing by the pond, his shoulders hunched, deep in thought, occasionally tossing a handful of oats at the large raft of ducks that had gathered around him.

Despite Paddington's predicament, despite everything, Edith's heart leapt. Here was the man she loved, and he loved her. They really could be so very, very happy…if only…

Anthony heard their voices and turned around. When his eyes met Edith's she felt she might fall into their depths, they were so troubled, and he seemed to be pleading with her silently. She knew she was looking at him with a similar intensity; neither of them caring what anyone around might think…or taking much notice of what Paddington was doing.

One of Paddington's many lovable virtues was that he didn't dwell on misery. Most of the time he was a cheerful little fellow. When he saw the ducks he shook sad, lonely thoughts from his head and became entranced by the comical, feathery creatures.

"I've never seen ducks before, only in picture books! Aren't they lovely?!"

Alas, the ducks had never seen a real bear before either, and they didn't think he was lovely at all. With a sudden eruption of quacks, flaps, feathers, and spraying water, the ducks took to the air. In the confusion, Paddington's beloved hat was knocked from his head and fell into the pond, gently floating out from the bank.

"Argh! My hat! It was my Uncle Pastuzo's! I can't lose it!"

Paddington panicked up and down the side of the pond, reaching out to the hat, and not getting anywhere near it as it glided along, gently spinning and getting wetter and wetter, and heavier and heavier. Very soon it was going to sink. Paddington had to do something. He realised that the hat was drifting towards one of the elegant Weeping Willows by the side of the pond. Quickly scrambling up the tree and along a branch overhanging the water, Paddington leaned out to the hat, further and further, nearer and nearer the hat. The thing about Weeping Willows is that their branches, though graceful, are not very strong. With a snap and a flurry of ripping leaves as his paw slid down the bending wood, Paddington fell into the pond with an enormous splash.

Edith closed her eyes momentarily in exasperation and embarrassment, but opened them immediately when she heard Anthony ripping off his sling and casting his jacket aside, running towards where the small bear was floundering.

"He's a tree-dwelling bear. He can't swim" Anthony called as he dived into the pond with determination. He reached Paddington and pulled him out of the water to get his breath. Then put his good arm around the bear's neck, and holding his head above the water and supported by his chest, he paddled back to the bank just with his feet. Edith helped to pull Paddington back onto the grass and laid him on his side, then went to help Anthony get himself out of the smelly pond.

"Are you all right Paddington?" they pleaded, thumping the sodden bear on the back as he coughed.

"Yes. Yes, I think I am. Thank you, Sir Anthony. You've saved my life…again!"

Anthony, still getting his breath back, could only mutter "You're welcome".

Now it was sure that Paddington was not hurt, Edith gazed at Anthony with puppy dog eyes.

"That was amazing, Anthony! You're not a cripple: I think you're marvellous. I've always thought you were marvellous!"

Anthony stopped dead and just gazed at her.

While they were recovering (Paddington from another coughing fit, Anthony from Edith's praise), Edith went back to the pond and found a long stick, and used it to fish Paddington's hat out of the murky depths.

"It'll be fine once it's had a wash…which also applies to you two, I think!" she smiled.

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Poor Stewart groaned inwardly when he opened the front door and saw the state of man and bear, but he drew baths for each of them and ensured that they both got warm and clean again, wallowing in the heat of the hot water.

Celia, drinking tea in the morning room, couldn't stop laughing when she heard from Edith what had happened.

"When Anthony asked me to come over and stay, I had no idea it was going to be this entertaining!"

"It was quite serious, Mrs Chetwood. Paddington could've drowned."

"Nonsense. The water's only about six feet deep there."

"But Paddington's only three feet tall…"

"Ah, yes, yes, you're right. But Anthony wouldn't have drowned, and he wouldn't have let Paddington drown."

"But that's the marvellous thing about your brother, isn't it? He's totally selfless; never a thought for himself. And yet people take him for granted."

"People take him for granted because Anthony doesn't make anything of himself; he thinks so little of himself, you see. For instance, like when he…"

She stopped, looking sheepish.

"Like when he left me at the altar?" Edith finished for her. Celia nodded. No one ever talks about it do they? At least not to me. Edith thought. She could stand it no longer.

"I now understand why he did that, and I appreciate what he sacrificed for me. And consequently, I want to convince him that he was mistaken, that my family were mistaken, that everyone was just plain wrong! Everyone was under the impression that he would ruin my life, when in fact he is the only person who can make me happy and give me the freedom to live my life, because he's the only person who has ever really seen me or understood me…or respected me and…and…and because I love him, with all my heart and soul."

"Brava, Edith!" declared Celia, looking at her admiringly. "You deserve him. You both deserve happiness. Tell me what I can do to help, and I will!" She put her arms around her prospective sister-in-law and hugged her.

Behind the door to the morning room, Anthony, who had heard every word, struggled for breath, and walked briskly away.

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** If you google "what to feed ducks" you'll get the website of The Canal and River Trust. There you'll discover that feeding bread to ducks is bad for them, along with a list of things that are good for them, an interview with a duck about her life (yes, really), and a link to a hilarious video of a crust of bread chasing a reluctant duck, and much more.