March 10th, 2013

Michael left early to work on the Monday morning meeting with the heads of the American branch. He was adamant that work be taken care of first and promised to see me tomorrow.

First, we should all be going to hell for attending a tarts and vicars party on a Sunday. I very well assume that that alone is the reason Auntie changed the theme at the last minute and failed to inform me. Perhaps the embarrassment would have been slightly more tolerable if Michael had been able to come along with me. Instead father was at my side, dressed as a vicar. There was something severely wrong with this all.

It took a bit of hunting, but I had tracked down a pink Playboy rabbit costume for the party. As I dressed in front of the mirror that morning I had all of these marvelous images of making Mary feel jealous. I was the new Edith after all. And the new Edith wasn't shy, wasn't hiding her body beneath layers of "clothes her mother must've picked out for her" as that bore Strallan so kindly pointed out at the Downton Christmas party.

As I made it through the gates I instantly realized that something was amiss.

Oh. Fuck.

I could see my older sister barely containing her laughter as she leaned in to whisper something to Strallan. Oh yes, I'm sure they would just howl with laughter at this misstep. Sybil and mother hurried toward me, both looking horrified, though my little sister seemed slightly more sympathetic.

"Oh fuck." Father voiced before pulling at the collar and disappearing into the crowd.

"Edith! What on earth are you wearing?" Mother demanded, standing directly in front of me in the hopes of hiding me from prying eyes.

"Well, as I was told this was a tarts and vicars party…"

"Oh for heavens sake." Sybil sounded cross as she turned to address the approaching Mary. "You didn't tell her!"

"Didn't I? Oh, must have slipped my mind. So sorry about that, Eeds."

Were we not raised to be ladies I would have punched my sister just then… I take that back, if there weren't witnesses I'd have punched my sister just then. Strallan stood behind the crowd of my family, nervously looking away from me. How he could ever be done in by Mary I have no idea, he was rather timid while Mary was so… decidedly not.

"I've got…" He awkwardly held out his raincoat to me, still trying hard not to stare. Apparently I over estimated my allure.

"That's quite…" I started to reject, but mother interrupted, snatching the Burberry coat and wrapping it around me.

"Thank you, Anthony. That should do quite well until we can get you a cab home."

"Mother, I am not…"

"Oh yes you are. Really, Edith! It's as if you try to find new ways to embarrass this family."

I said nothing that was the last of my confidence gone. Yes, mother. I purposely arranged it for Mary to be a… a… ugh, I'm in my twenties, I shouldn't be quite so hesitant about the c-word. For better or worse that was the word that best described my sister. Blinking the tears back as best I could, I just turned and walked away from the group. Back to the road where Michael had dropped me. It had been such a pleasant weekend… well… not so much pleasant as it was satisfying. He was hiding something from me. Despite my lack of experience with men, I did have sisters, which gave you a fantastic sense for deception.

"Would you like a ride, Edith?" Came a voice from behind me.

"No, no that's quite all right." I answered, not turning around, not giving him the satisfaction.

"Please, I insist. Cab fare from here to London would be ridiculous and I had planned to head back in this afternoon anyway."

"Very well."

Which is how I found myself in Anthony Strallan's Range Rover on the way back to London. Still in my disgraced pink costume, wrapped in his overpriced coat. Grudgingly I admitted that the cashmere lining made it worth the exorbitant expense. And that his cologne lingering on the collar was oddly calming. But that is all I'm willing to admit. We drove in silence for the first hour until he felt compelled to make small talk.

"I'm sorry about Mary."

"I'm usually sorry about Mary." I muttered, pulling the stupid headband from my hair, shaking my once perfectly executed curls free. "Good luck marrying that one."

"No engagement has been announced yet."

"Oh I'm sure it will be if she decides she wants it badly enough."

"You don't think her affections are sincere?"

"Perhaps your relationship with her is different than mine, but I've never known Mary to be sincere about anything other than trying to prove she's better than me in every conceivable manner."

"She isn't better than anyone, just a bit different. As are you."

"You sound like my mother. Who consequentially did not dress me today." I took the opportunity to remind him of his past comments.

"Yes, that fact is quite clear." He replied softly. We lapsed back into silence until reaching London.

"Thank you, Anthony." I said quickly, climbing out of his car and heading for my front door. I could hear his car door close and his shoes on the pavement as he followed me.

"My… my jacket."

"Yes, of course." I started to pull if from my shoulders when he climbed the two stairs and stood directly in front of me, making it difficult to move.

"I really do think well of you Edith. You're quite lovely, really."

"Lovely?" I scoffed, unsure of what his angle was. "Yes, quite lovely except for my, what was it you said? My funny personality and obvious spinster behavior. Oh and my lovely body that you were more eager than my mother to cover up."

He took a step closer, pushing me against the wall and into the buzzers, though not firmly enough to press them. He overwhelmed me. His blue eyes staring down at me with an intensity I had never seen before. His hands found their way under his jacket, resting on my satin covered hips.

"I wanted you covered because I didn't think I would be able to control myself if I knew other men were seeing that much of you." His voice was low and gravely. I felt a surge of heat deep inside of me, more than I ever felt with Michael. "You're a lovely woman, Edith."

My breath caught in my throat, fighting the urge to stretch up on tiptoes and kiss him.

"Far too lovely for the likes of Michael Gregson. You should keep that in mind." And like that he killed the mood, sliding his jacket down my shoulders and returning to his car. At that moment I simultaneously despised and desired Anthony Strallan. And I hated myself for both emotions.

There was no way I would be able to sit alone for the rest of the afternoon. Between Michael and Anthony I was confused beyond words. I had found the latter attractive, if he did seem to have little regard for me… well, until today. Then there was Michael with his secrets.

I hurried inside and quickly changed out of my bunny costume before hailing a cab and heading over to Michael's apartment.

"Eed, what are you doing here? What happened to the party?" He asked, standing in front of the door so I couldn't come in.

"Theme changed, which Mary failed to tell me. So I came back early."

"Is something wrong?"

"May I come in?" He looked down at himself, apparently realizing that he was blocking the door.

"Oh, of course."

"Did I freak you out yesterday? When I said I love you?" I ventured nervously.

"What? No… well, a little. It's just, it's rather sudden."

"Is that why you were so weird this morning?"

"No, of course not. Look, Eeds, I care for you. I really do. It's just everything with the company is piling up. New York is so eager to screw us over… I'm just so tired." He sighed, resting on the arm of the sofa and pulling me into his lap.

"I'll leave you to work. Don't worry, you'll figure something out." I soothed, brushing his hair back and smiling softly.

He had just led me to the steps when I heard something from the bedroom. I paused, turning back to look at him then towards the doorway.

Without thinking I moved towards the room, curious as to what made the noise.

"Edith." He called after me. I pushed the door open and found the room empty.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. Just tired."

We walked downstairs, pausing at the front door to say goodbye when I noticed it. A pink jacket hanging from the coat hook. I knew it wasn't mine. I didn't own one like it. And it wasn't something forgotten because it was still wet from the early morning rain that day.

Letting go of Michael's hand I hurried back upstairs, into the bedroom and followed through to the bathroom.

Sitting on the edge of the tub was a dark haired woman in a pair of glasses and wearing a pink silk robe. All I could do was stare at her, even when I became aware of Michael standing behind me.

"I thought you said she was pretty?" The woman asked Michael.

I turned to face him. Not saying a word I hurried out of the apartment and walked the twelve blocks back home.

Trying to keep from sobbing I picked up the phone and called Anna. Common sense was what I needed right now.