I know I said that the story would start Matthew, Mary, and Anna; however, I decided to go ahead and add an Edith chapter in the mix. This explains where she was when Mary and Matthew arrived. I hope you enjoy it!


Edith stood in the entrance hall nervously pulling at her dress. She would do this; she had to do this. She often looked up to the determination of her sisters-Sybil's bravery and confidence in leaving Downton for what some would classify as a lesser life, and Mary's stubbornness in pursuing her desires.

Well, she thought, I can be stubborn too.

She could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, and quickly, she took a deep breath and let her hands drop to her sides. Don't look so defeated, her Grandmama had told her once.

"Lady Edith," Sir Antony greeted her. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Sir Antony," she smiled, "I hope I haven't inconvenienced you."

"Not at all," he replied, matching her smile. "Would you like to come and sit down?"

Lady Edith nodded and followed Antony into the library where he usually took his afternoon tea. How long had it been since she was here with him last? Three months, she counted. Three months of hoping and longing for his companionship. Three months of sitting alone while the world around her continued to be partnered off and married like some sort of machine.

If she was being honest, she would admit that her love for Sir Antony rested in two parts: one part of her truly did love him, his kind and gentle nature, the way his hair seemed to fall to one side, and how he smiled with those bright blue eyes. The other part was that at this time in her life, she did not really have any other options, no men bidding for her attention, and as she became desperately aware of her single state, it hastened any and all love she felt for this man.

"How are things at Downton?" Sir Antony asked. He tried to force the corners of his mouth down from their smile, but it was no use. He was glad Edith had come to visit; he had missed her in the months past.

"Rather empty," Edith sighed. "Sybil and Tom are in Dublin, and Mary and Matthew have moved to York for Mr. Bate's case."

"I suppose it's rather lonely for you," he replied, not being able to look away from her gorgeous eyes.

"At times," she replied politely, but what she would have liked to have said was "Every moment of everyday." Lady Edith couldn't help but notice his lame arm resting in its sling.

"How is your arm?" she asked.

"Oh, still useless," he replied.

"And the pain? Has it subsided?" she asked him again.

"Mostly," he answered. "However, I've been having some awful pains in my neck due to this sling."

Lady Edith had expected this much. She had seen it at Downton when the house had acted as a rehabilitation home.

"May I try something?" she asked.

"Well, I suppose," Antony agreed, not very sure about just what it was she was trying.

Edith hesitantly stood and walked closer to him. "Sometimes," she said. "You can adjust the strap over the shoulder to relieve the pressure on the neck."

She carefully sat down beside him and began adjusting the strap. She tried very hard to focus on her work and not on the closer proximity between her and Antony.

Antony did the same. He closed his eyes and reminded himself of their age difference and the life she would be giving up should she marry him. If he was being honest, he would say that he had fallen in love with Edith at first sight. She had captured him with her beauty, wit, and loyalty. But his love was limited by the fear that with his new condition and age, he would ruin the life that lay before this woman. When he looked at her, he could the see the greatness that rested in her, and he worried that taking her as his wife would dissipate that greatness and leave her resentful at what she had missed. However, this physical closeness, the way her fingers brushed his shoulder as they worked, the way he could feel her breath on his neck, well, they were enough to chip away at any resolve he had spent the past three months building.

"There," she smiled. "Does that feel better?"

"Much," he answered honestly, and it was all he could do to keep himself from kissing her, right then and there.

"I've not yet given up on you, Antony," she said quietly, holding his gaze in hers. "I won't ever."

"Edith," he tried to interrupt, but she was set in her determination.

"No," she said, stopping him. "If Sybil can marry the chauffeur and run away to Ireland, and Mary watch as her secrets are told for all the world to hear, then surely I can sit here and tell you that I love you, and that I'll not be written off because you're afraid you'll take the world from me."

Antony sat a little stunned. Where was this new resolve coming from? he wondered. Had she really just declared her love for him? He couldn't very well think straight, his heart was pounding in his ears and his palms sweaty. It seemed the only thing he could focus on were Edith's lips, thin and fragile, and longing to be kissed.

"Edith," he tried again, but she wouldn't have it. I suppose, he thought, that stubbornness is a quality inherited by all Crawley women.

"You called me lovely once," she continued. "I'll not give up on that."

"I'd call you lovely again," he answered her before he knew what he was saying. "You are lovely, always."

"Then tell me, Antony, why do you avoid me like I'm some curse to be brought down on your house?"

Antony couldn't answer her, not the way she wanted to be answered at least. He knew that he loved her, this red-faced woman who refused to give up on him. But he also knew that in certain circumstances loving someone meant setting them free. It would be a selfish love to keep Edith to himself when she could do so much better. But perhaps, he thought, perhaps, I deserve a selfish love.


Thank you again for reading! All comments and suggestions are welcomed. I'm hoping to have a third chapter up soon.