A/N: Thank you everyone for reading. I have loved every single one of your reviews and messages. I wish i could throw a big party for you all, but i am afraid cyberhugs will have to do!

Thank you so, so much.

"Your letters, Edie."

Anthony handed Edith a small stack of letters. There was one from Sybil, which she decided could wait. It would be wonderful to read it in the garden with a nice cup of tea, sitting next to Anthony reading his afternoon paper. There was a letter from a friend and an invitation to dinner at Crawley House.

There was a thick envelope and Edith opened it with her knife. She pulled out the letter and her eyes flew over the content.

"Anthony!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, dearest?"

"They have accepted my manuscript!" Edith jumped up from her chair and pushed the letter under Anthony's nose, who took it from her and read it.

"Well, i say! That is wonderful. This calls for a celebration." He took her wrist in his hand and pulled her in his lap. Edith nestled against him.

"Who would have thought... it's not a very happy book."

"I did not think it would be." he answered and kissed her hair. His hand was sliding up her knee, her thigh.

"You don't think me very happy?" she was a bit surprised. Did he not know she was very happy indeed?

Her skin came to life under his touch. His hand glided back to her knee and lifted the hem of her skirt, pulling it up. He tugged at her slip and his mouth found hers.

She turned to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

"Oh, you are happy, but i think i could make you even happier..." his lips moved against the fabric of her dress.

This was exactly the way Edith had hoped to celebrate.

"Don't talk..." she whispered. "... show me..."

When Edith felt Anthony had properly showed her, she got out of the bed he had carried her to (you'd never know his arm had been injured during the war) and had a quick wash. She brushed her hair and looked in the mirror. She looked very good in the short bob. She liked how light her head felt and how little effort it took to get ready for a party or formal dinner.

Marriage agreed with her and she was lucky to have found someone who loved her, who desired her and who looked upon the world much the same as she did. There would never be a loud discussion between them like with Sybil and Tom and there would never be the nervousness surrounding her cycle, like with Mary and Matthew. In the four years of her marriage, she had been happier and more free than she had ever felt at Downton. She was her own person, she managed a house and she had made it her home. She stood beside her husband and found pleasure in making him happy. She found fulfilment in her writing.

Edith would never feel unwanted or unloved again. It was a powerful feeling and it brought her peace.

Life was easy now and she embraced it, always looking forward to the future.

"Come on darling. Time to get up."

She watched him as he dressed and together they descended the stairs and walked into the garden. Edith breathed in the spring air.

Anna was Mrs Bates and she ruled supreme downstairs. She was perhaps not as awe inspiring as Mrs Hughes had been, but she was was respected and much appreciated. She did not have as many people to manage as Mrs Hughes had had. There weren't as many grand formal dinners and having been trained by the best, Anna always had everything under control.

Except for today.

Today she was cranky and tired and everything seemed to slip from her hands. She had to sweep up a broken teacup in the servants' hall after setting it too near the edge of the table and accidentally pushing it off and she had dropped the saltshaker in the dining room, thankfully after luncheon. Anna was grateful for the free time she had between tea and dinner and she had installed herself on Mrs Hughes old settee.

She had kept the settee in the office because it made her think of how you could be fair and strict and still be kind and caring. As she stirred her tea, she thought how different things were now. She had her job, her work, her title. There was John, steadfast and gentle. Kathleen was with her 'Grampa' and 'Gramma', being cared for and slightly spoiled. Anna didn't mind. The sight of Kathleen listening to Mr Carson telling a story was priceless.

For a moment Anna closed her eyes and rested her head against the settee. Why was she so tired? She slept well, nothing out of the ordinary was happening at the house. John's leg was not bothering him much and Kathleen thrived on the heaps of love she received. She sighed and rubbed her forehead.

Her eye fell on the calendar.

She couldn't be.

Could she?

She suddenly did not feel tired anymore. She got up from the settee and poured herself another cup of tea. She took little sips to settle herself. Could she really be pregnant again?

Not that she didn't want to be.

Quite the opposite.

They just had not talked about expanding their family. Kathleen had come and they had given their little girl all their attention, they did not dream of another child.

Or at least, John didn't, as far as Anna knew. She had thought about it. When she was checking the books or the quiet moments before dinner. She missed the feeling of her ever changing body. Of the gentle flutterings at first and the actual kicks later. She did not miss a well placed body part on her bladder, but she would take the bad with the good. The feeling of pride. She had hoped she would have another child, a playmate for Kathleen. A boy perhaps, to play football with or take fishing. John, not she, obviously.

But before she got ahead of herself - she was already thinking she should get the baby things from the attic and give them a good wash - she should try to calm down and do some thinking. Calculating.

Anna took her diary from the desk and flicked the pages one by one. There it was. The half-cross she always put on the day she expected to come on. She had not crossed it through. She fingered through the book, going forward now. Another half cross was standing there, waiting to be checked in two days.

For a moment she stopped breathing.

It all fell into place. The tiredness, the soreness that made her take off her corset as soon as she stepped through the door of the cottage. The overwhelming wish to cry at inopportune moments. The tiredness. She was lucky she did not suffer from morning sickness, which would greatly aid her in keeping her news a secret for some time.

A knock on the door and John opened it, stepping over the threshold, holding a decanter.

"Have you a cloth? The new boy just conveniently dropped mine in the wine. And don't laugh. It is not funny." He said it with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

Of course she chuckled.

"I will get you a cloth. But before that... maybe you should take a look at this." She handed him the dayplanner and left the room. When she returned with the cloth she found her husband looking at her in confusion.

"What was i supposed to see?"

"It's what you don't see..." and she showed him the page with the half-cross.

"And what does that mean?"

There were moments Anna wondered why men ruled the world, seeing as they were so thick sometimes. She gave him the cloth, laid her arms around his neck, pulled herself up and whispered in his ear:

"I think i'm pregnant..."

"What?"

"I think i may be having a baby."

Sometimes silence was more eloquent than any words could ever be.

Having Kathleen stay over was something that did not happen very often in the Carson's cottage. The little girl stayed with Elsie and Charles during the weekdays, being picked up by Charles in the morning after breakfast and picked up by either Anna or John after dinner. Though sometimes it was just easier to have Kathleen spend the night. For example when there was a large formal dinner and both Anna and John would be working until very late.

They had had a lovely dinner of shepherd's pie (Elsie was not really that much of a cook, shepherd's pie was one of the few things she could cook feeling confident) with apple tart and custard for afters. Charles had read Kathleen a bedtime story and Elsie had taken the little girl up to bed.

"Mummy doesn't do it like this." Elsie had been put in her place.

"What does your mummy do, petal?"

"She brushes my hair." Kathleen announced. Elsie took the brush and went through the long, blond hair.

"And then what does she do?" Elsie asked.

"She helps me with my clothes." the little girl answered. Elsie pulled Kathleen's apron and dress off and helped her in her nightgown.

"All done!" she said happily, anticipating what would happen.

"No, Gramma! I need to wash my hands and brush my teeths."

Elsie chuckled. "Teeth, Kathleen. One tooth, two teeth. And yes, you must brush them, lets go." She took Kathleen by the hand and took her to the bathroom.

After Kathleen was clean and fresh Elsie put her in bed and sat on the chair next to it.

"Gramma?"

"Yes?"

"Will you sing for me?"

"You know I am not very good at singing, sweetheart." Elsie saw Kathleen's lower lip tremble.

"Maybe Grampa will sing for you when he comes up to say goodnight." This made the todd smile and she nestled herself in her pillow.

"Did you have a good day?" Elsie asked.

"Yes. I liked going to the farm to see the lambs best. And Grampa telling me a story about a princess who had very long hair and lived in a castle with a tower and she put her hair out of the window and the prince would climb up." Kathleen frowned.

"Wouldn't that hurt, Gramma?"

"I think it would hurt us, but not the princess in the story." she tucked the covers in and kissed Kathleen.

"Goodnight. Sleep tight."

"Goodnight Gramma."

Elsie did not close the door behind her, nor did she turn off the light. Charles was going to go up to say goodnight and if the little girl was lucky, he would sing a song for her.

"Your turn." she said and sat down on the settee, picking up her book and finding a cup of tea steaming away on the table. Charles smiled at her, got up and kissed her on top of her head. She heard him go up the stairs and Kathleen's happy voice, though the words were indistinguishable.

The floorboards creaked and then she heard him sing.

"Blow the wind, blow;

Swift and low;

Blow the wind o'er the ocean.

Breakers rolling to the coastline;

Bringing ships to harbor;

Gulls against the morning sunlight;

Flying off to freedom!"

Elsie shook her head with a smile. The Scottish Lullaby. How like him. He did not sing normally, not besides hymns in church, even though he had a beautiful voice. Perhaps the shame of having been on the stage as a young lad had still not parted with him. Elsie never urged him on, but she listened intently when he sang for Kathleen. How that little girl had changed their lives.

She thought back to the day Kathleen was born. Word had come from Downton that Anna had gone into labour during the early hours of the day and Elsie had paced the floor, hoping and praying things would go smoothly. Charles had pretended to calmly read his newspaper, but she saw his fists clench. They had watched the clock and when the afternoon rolled in, Elsie could no longer stay in the house and put on her coat and hat and had walked over to the cottage. perhaps she could be of use, if not to Anna or the doctor, then maybe to John. As far as Elsie knew, this was his first child and he must be as nervous and scared as she was.

Halfway there, she found Doctor Clarkson on his way back. He slowed down his car and smiled brightly at her, nodding and putting up his thumb. The car came to a halt and he rolled down the window.

"She is alright, Mrs Carson. A little baby girl."

And Anna had been alright. The nurse had put the baby in Elsie's arms and seven pounds of helpless creature had jumped straight into her heart and she knew there would be very little in this world she wouldn't do for this child.

Turned out Charles felt much the same. He took her on walks, he told her stories and he sang for her. Whenever the three of them went anywhere, they felt like they were proper grandparents, taking their granddaughter for a treat.

When Charles came down they spent the rest of the evening reading and drinking tea. Before retiring to their room, they sneaked a peek at Kathleen who was fast asleep. Charles took her hand. She squeezed it.

They were woken up by Kathleen, crawling in between them and starting off her day with happy babbling about the puppies at Crawley House and that she was ever so hungry and could she have scrambled eggs and share a sausage with Grampa and what time would Mummy come to get her and could she take the book with the fairytales and...

Elsie laughed about as hard as Kathleen when Charles started to tickle her to quiet her. She helped Kathleen get dressed and sent her downstairs with Charles as she dressed herself. She made scrambled eggs and made Kathleen a sausage of her own that she didn't have to share. Elsie often wondered where the little tyke put all the food she could devour.

Charles and Kathleen left the room to make a puzzle in the parlour and Elsie started doing the dishes in the kitchen that looked out at the road. She was drying a plate as she saw Anna coming up the road.

The plate slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.

Elsie was no longer housekeeper, but she still knew before being told.

"Are you alright?" she heard Charles call from the parlour.

"Yes. Yes... I am fine." she called back.

Better than fine.

She was going to be a grandmother again.

The End.

A/N: Well. That was it. I hope you liked it and i am so thankful to all of you who subscribed to the story, to me and who reviewed or messaged me.

For this story, it is the end of the road and everyone lives happily ever after.

Like they should.