A little bit of looking online revealed that Coco Chanel was a bit of a trend setter in the fashion of trousers for women in the 1920s. I couldn't find an exact date, but decided it was close enough to take a bit of artistic license for this story. After Lady Sybil's fashion choices in season 1, it made sense to me that Anna and John might be a bit more bohemian in their outlook on women's fashion.

"And then he turns to me and says – 'Bill, why do you look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards?'"

The laughter rang around the table and echoed off the walls. Anna wiped her eyes with mirth and longed to stay at this friendly place forever so that Bill could make her laugh herself well.

John finally admitted defeat over the remains his second piece of chicken and ham pie. He'd already eaten his way through a mountain of new potatoes, peas, carrots and a delicious cream and wine sauce, and there were scones over on the cooling rack with a jug of whipped cream standing next to them which promised to make an appearance on the table any time soon.

"So... have you thought of any plans for tomorrow? Sun might come out a bit, although the lane's fairly muddy, but the worst of the rain has passed."

Anna looked to John. They hadn't really discussed any further plans.

"Bit stumped?"

"You could say that," John gave a wry smile. "It's … more difficult for me to go walking in muddy conditions."

Bill smiled and said nothing.

"Well … there's the parlour here, if you'd like to have a day indoors instead? I'm not much of a reader, but me wife was, and all her books are still there. I always hoped William would take after her for book learning, but he wanted to be out with the horses all the time."

John's face brightened at the prospect of a new library to explore as Bill carried on talking."

"...or we can always arrange a riding lesson, if you'd like something more active."

"Oh!"

Anna's face had brightened immediately. John was surprised.

"I didn't know you could ride."

"I can't. I mean, that is, I haven't. Not since I was a tiny thing, and I don't think sitting on the back of a shire horse counts."

Bill chuckled as he stood up to fetch the scones and cream.

"Aye lass, not so much riding as sitting on a great sofa that moves about."

"But I always wanted chance to have a go."

Anna met John's eyes.

"Would you mind?"

His face softened. Much as he would miss his wife's company, he loved to see her enjoy herself. This would be no different to watching her dance.

"You could always bring a book and sit out if you like John, there's rugs and an old chair or two in the stables, and the paddock is right behind them. I'll have a word with young Ned if you like Anna, he can saddle up little Merrylegs, she's a steady little dappled grey. He'll lead you round on a rope, get you used to it."

"Well," John reached for his wife's hand with a smile. "That's settled then."

…

When John woke the next morning, Anna was already up and rummaging through her packed clothes.

"What are you doing love?"

"I'm not sure any of this is going to work."

"Work for what?"

"Riding... all my skirts are a bit narrow. I don't want to rip them."

Anna didn't have many fine dresses, and like any woman she'd packed her best to come on holiday. She looked so disappointed that John's next suggestion was voiced before he could think twice about it.

"You could wear something of mine."

Anna's expression was scandalised.

"What... wear trousers?"

"Why not?"

"Well! It's not exactly ladylike, John!"

"But practical. And comfortable. And far more ladylike than ripping your skirt open."

"I'm not sure I'd have the nerve."

"Lady Sybil did once, remember?"

"That's true..."

Anna remembered helping the bold young woman dress herself in the long, Arabian style trousers for dinner one night, eagerly anticipating the stir they would cause among the family.

"How did you know about that? You didn't see her..."

"No..." John smiled to himself. "But I assisted Lord Grantham getting ready for bed that night and it was all he could talk about. 'Scandalous... Preposterous...Why wasn't he consulted...'"

His impression of Lord Grantham made Anna giggle.

"And anyway, some women do wear trousers. There was a picture in Harper's Bazaar of that designer wearing trousers, Coco something or other..."

"Coco Chanel?"

"The very one."

"I didn't know you had been stealing my copies of Harper's Bazaar, Mr Bates!" Lady Mary was good enough to pass them on to Anna once she had read them to death. Being a few months behind fashion didn't bother Anna, as her clothes mostly came second hand from Lady Mary anyway. John was right, there had been a feature about Coco wearing trousers, for riding no less. Anna smiled, becoming more at ease with the idea.

"Well, I have to keep up with my gorgeous fashion conscious wife somehow."

"Get away, y'daft begger. Alright. If I did wear them, how would I keep them up?"

"I'm sure Bill or Hetty has some string lying around that we can tie them up with."

Anna pealed with laughter at the thought.

"What on earth would Lady Mary think if she saw me dressed like that?"

Bates leaned over out of bed to steal a kiss from his lovely wife.

"Here, let me get dressed first, and I will go and investigate."

…

Hetty looked twice, but only twice, when Anna eventually emerged for breakfast. She had guessed something was up when Mr Bates had asked her for some strong string and Bill had already mentioned that Anna was going out for a lesson with young Ned.

"Well, Mrs Bates, look at you! All set for riding, and rightly so, why any woman wants to be ripping fine skirts to shreds on the back of a horse makes no sense to me."

"Morning Hetty."

"There's sausages and bacon in the warming dish, toast coming right up!"

"It feels ever so strange wearing this John."

Dressed in John's tweeds, Anna did look a little strange. The waist was gathered and secured with string, the legs rolled up to account for John's far greater height. Wearing a sturdy cotton blouse and cardigan the colour of summer wheat, she looked the picture of a healthy country girl.

"You look beautiful, as always. And I shall look forward to seeing you ride."

"I might fall off."

"Oh, don't you worry about that lovie," Hetty bustled over with the toast rack and a fresh pot of tea. "Ned's a good lad, he'll make little Merrylegs go slowly for you. And anyways, worst that happens is you dust off and get back on straight away. No sense letting an upset stop you getting on with the things you want in life."

As she returned to peeling her potatoes, John and Anna shared a secret smile across the table. Hetty spoke more truly than she would ever know

…

The day was bright, as Bill had promised. John made himself at home in a folding chair, to one side of the paddock, along side the wicker basket full of sandwiches that Hetty had made up for them. His book, a copy of The Three Musketeers purloined from Bill's parlour, lay almost untouched in his lap. There was more than enough happening to occupy his attention.

"Tha's it Mrs Bates, you've got it!"

Anna had proved to be as much a natural at horse riding as dancing. In a short time she had mastered the art of holding herself in the saddle and now Ned was showing her how to trot, as he stood in the paddock with Merrylegs tethered to a long rope, guiding her around in a circle.

Merrylegs was a lovely little horse. Small, stocky, with a silvery dappled grey coat, her temperament was delightful, obedient and responsive with just a pinch of naughty charm. Anna laughed as the little beast tossed its head, wanting to go faster. A perfect match for her rider.

John loved to watch his wife laugh. Even the sound of her voice, filled with joy and free of care, was a tonic for him. It made him realise how scarce her laughter had become during recent years at Downton Abbey.

Downton Abbey. It was like a ghost hanging over their shoulders. The knowledge that they had to go back at the weekend. He and Anna had not even attempted a discussion about their employment and home and the affect it was currently having on her health. Perhaps tomorrow, if they could have some time alone...

"Book not holding your attention, John?"

John turned to see Bill standing behind the gate, leaning on a pitchfork, straw hat askew.

"I haven't read this for years. Not since I was a boy."

"But there's someone more charming that Milady to hold yer attention now, eh?" Bill grinned, looking away to watch Anna, still riding in circles.

"You could say that."

"How is she? She looks better than when you arrived."

Bill didn't beat about the bush.

"She is better. Since she's been here. When we have time to be together and make things right between us."

"Are you worried about going back?"

John wondered whether Bill was a clairvoyant. A son of the earth, who could read the clouds and the patterns of the wind in his crops and judge the temperament of his animals from twenty paces, it would not have surprised him at all if Bill could read the minds of his fellow humans as well.

"It has crossed my mind that going back may bring her back into shadows."

"Hmmmm."

"I haven't seen her laugh like this in years."

"That's years too long, lad. Far too long. This Downton, it's a sound place and your employers sound like good people from what you've said, and what Daisy and William told me in the past. But it has a way of keeping people, long after its done with them."

John wondered if that was true. It was difficult for people to break away from Downton. Looking at Thomas, and Branson. Both of whom had left and returned. Not to mention his own patchy history of leaving and returning.

"Was Downton always the long term plan for yer both?"

"It was... until we met and found each other."

"And then?"

Bill came through the gate and crouched next to John.

"We had talked of a different future. Of buying a hotel, or maybe a guest house. Something we could run together, when we... when we wanted to start a family."

"Got a bit of cash spare for it?"

"My mother left me a house, in London."

"Hooo, right! That'll raise a fair bit to buy a place up here, London prices are always higher than the north," Bill slapped his leg as he guffawed.

"John, I try not to poke me nose in too much, but I do a fair bit o' plain speaking when need arises. And I will say this. If you both have a plan where you can be together, and happy, and where she can be free o'whatever stops her laughing like this, with roses in her cheeks... you might want to ask yerselves, when are you going to put that plan into action?"

Bill's china blue eyes felt as though they were boring right into the back of John's mind. John realised he had been carrying the question around with him all morning, and now it had been couched in Bill's own plain words.

"Jes' something to think about. Right, I'd best get on. I'll see you at supper," Bill stood, dusting off his trousers, recollecting his pitch fork. "That's enough Ned!" he called. "First lessons should be kept short."

Merrylegs drew to a reluctant halt, Anna's own face echoed her disappointment.

"Trust me lass, you'll be stiff tomorrow if you ride for much longer. "

Anna knew Bill spoke the truth and reluctantly climbed down from her saddle. She smiled over at John, with eyes so bright they could have rivalled the sun in his own.

"You look comfortable."

"I am. And you looked like you were having fun."

"I was. And now I am again," Anna reached for John's hand and leaned down for a kiss.

"Would you care to join me for our picnic lunch?"

Anna brushed back her hair from her face, her cheeks glowing with fresh air and exercise.

"Alright then. I'll just go and find a chair."

John watched her go, marveling at how athletic and simply gorgeous she looked in his ridiculous trousers. She might well set the fashion for women yet...