The next series of Downton may be the last, we may not have seen Anthony for two and a half series, but Andith lives on!
Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.
...
The ground was warm and everything was quiet. The remains of the picnic were strewn about as the two of them dozed in the sunshine. Anthony rolled over to her and began nibbling at her neck. Edith giggled as she hugged him.
Suddenly there was gunfire all around them. Anthony threw himself over her body to protect her. The impact of the bullets as they punched into his back made him physically jerk, in turn pushing her roughly against the ground. But he held his position, despite the pain, even as he was dying, in order to save her. The shooting stopped, but Anthony's beautiful blue eyes had closed, his body limp. She screamed.
...
Anthony shook her awake.
"Edith! Edith, darling! Wake up. It's alright. There, there. You were having a nightmare. Everything's okay now."
He waited for her to register where she was and that, indeed, everything was alright before he cuddled her as close as he could with one arm.
"I'm sorry" she wept.
"It's not your fault, stop blaming yourself."
"Hello pot, kettle here asking you to stop calling me black."
Anthony laughed out loud at that.
"Touché!" Then he sighed.
"You've been through so much, my sweet, it was more than could be expected that you wouldn't suffer repercussions. But you are safe, I promise."
"Prove it to me" she pleaded.
"How would you like me to prove it to you, my love?" he said, willing to do anything.
"Stay with me?"
"Of course, despite all the uncomfortable temptations that will put my way." She smiled and in a strange way that was the most powerful aphrodisiac he could imagine at that moment. She trusted him! By god, he'd earned it, but he still hadn't expected it to happen at all, not after the fiasco at the church.
They talked a little more while Anthony held her, feeling her relaxing. When he was sure she had gone back to sleep, he continued to hug her unable to sleep himself. In truth, he was worried sick. His own PTSD had only been brought under control with extensive counselling and quite a lot of time. He had already vowed to himself that, if she actually went through with the marriage, and he wouldn't blame her if she didn't, she would never have to put up with his demons. Now it looked like he would have to look on, feeling useless, as she had to endure her own. Of course he would be there for her, if that was what she wanted, but this was one enemy he couldn't defeat with firepower, cunning, or courage. He so wished he could, or that he might be able to take the PTSD away from her, even if had to go through it all again himself. He kissed her, and quietly promised her "You will never have to face this alone, my sweet one. You will never have to be alone again if you don't want to be."
...
Breakfast had been a subdued affair. Not only had Edith and Anthony slept badly, but it was also the day that they were to fly back to England. Elsie, in particular, felt like a mother hen seeing her chick leave her protection to go out and brave the big, bad world.
Edith needed a replacement passport since hers had been lost in the raid with all her other possessions. Charles had finished most of the admin, and now required only a photo and a signature. While she was in Charlie's office doing that, Anthony sorted through his black, pocketed robe with Elsie.
"Can Mr Carson dispose of these safely?" he asked holding up his two guns. "They're not likely to let me on the plane with them!"
"And I hope you will not be needing them once you're home either, Sir Anthony! I'm sure he can come to an agreement with the garrison about them."
He was searching through the garment fruitlessly, but trying not to let his disappointment show. In the end Elsie couldn't let him suffer any longer.
"Lady Edith took it."
Anthony started.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The photograph, of the two of you. Lady Edith has it."
"Oh. Ah. Um, of course." He reddened at being found out, and at the further evidence that Edith really did seem to be fond of him. Elsie put her hand on his arm.
"That wee lassie loves you so very much, you know. I don't want to hear that you broke her heart again."
"I vow to you, Mrs Carson, that will not happen. I would prefer to endure all manner of torture than cause her another moment's pain." He sighed. "She will have enough pain to deal with in the next few months."
Elsie tilted her head and raised her eyebrows in query.
"Last night, she had a nightmare. PTSD exhibits itself in that way, among others. I... I was struck down by it after the ambush."
"Perhaps yours wasn't just caused by the ambush, but also by leaving..." she corrected herself, "...losing Edith?"
"I...gosh, I'd never thought of that. Neither did any of the doctors or counsellors."
Elsie smiled. "What do they know? If Edith develops PTSD, she will need you more than ever, and if she doesn't, then all's well anyway. You are her anchor, the only person she feels able to rely on. That's one reason why it hurt so much when you left. Her family have never been exactly supportive, and she doesn't make friends easily or so she thinks. Both Charlie and I are quite taken with her. Perhaps she isn't made for small talk, hmm? She's better when all that's stripped away, like when we met and got to know her."
"Absolutely! As am I" he agreed.
"Well, there's two jobs for you: help her through whatever trauma she may suffer, and support her to make more friends. Do those and you'll be doing something good and bonny, and laying a strong foundation for your marriage. Just remember that this gift is yours and yours alone, Sir Anthony, no one else can be these things for her. If you weren't there, she'd survive, but she would not be whole."
With tears in his eyes Anthony reached for Elsie's hand and kissed it.
"Thank you, my lady."
Edith and Charles walked in discussing what was necessary once they arrived home.
"I know the Foreign Office want to talk to you, and you too, Sir Anthony. I would advise you not to talk to any of the newspapers about your time here. Leave keeping them happy to the FO Press Office. It's what they are there for, and it'll be one less thing for you to worry about. Do get checked by your own doctors, and..."
"Charles! For heaven's sake, can't you put all this on paper for them? How are they supposed to remember everything you tell them now?"
Charlie brought out two copies of a reasonably thick, printed document. "Just what I was about to say myself, my love!" Elsie blushed, realising the extent of her interference however well-intentioned.
Charlie nudged Edith and added with a smile "Confidentially, I think she sometimes forgets that I'm the one actually employed here."
"Behind every good man…" rejoined Edith.
"That's absolutely true" agreed Anthony, putting his good arm around her waist.
"And now you must get a move on if you're going to catch today's flight." Richard had joined them from his office. "And I beg you to make it, for my sake. The Foreign Secretary will have my guts for garters if you don't."
They packed what they had, which wasn't much, said some emotional goodbyes to the Carsons, Richard, and the other staff, then got a taxi to the airport. One or two of the officials looked at Edith a bit sideways, as if they were trying to work out whether she really was that Lady Edith, but all in all it was a very uneventful journey. Edith slept for a bit, making up for the previous night. Once she was awake again, Anthony started a conversation they should have had earlier.
"When we get back, where do you want to go then?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Where would you like to stay tonight? Do you want to go back to your flat? I assume you have one in London?"
"I can't; I rented it out while I was on this assignment."
"I'm not sure either of us is up to the train journey back to Yorkshire on top of this, are you?"
"Not really."
"So I suggest a hotel for this evening at least, and possibly tomorrow too, while we recover" he said with decision.
"Together?" she said, scared that he might say no.
"Of course, if that's what you want, my dear. After all, we are engaged again!"
She rested her head on his shoulder, and a warm glow tingled in their hearts.
All was well, until they emerged from the arrivals gate. A large crowd jostled for position, photographers' flashes and journalists' questions, imperious and impertinent, were flung at them. They were both astounded to find that their return to the UK had been anticipated.
Anthony recovered first, firmly taking Edith's arm and steering her towards the airport reception, whilst also trying to shield her from as much of the attention as he could. A rather seedy BAE official stared at them as they approached him, followed by the press pack. Anthony stood tall as he made his request which was really an order.
"Lady Edith should have some privacy while we wait for transport. Where is the nearest office we can use?"
"Well, we don't usually…"
Anthony leant down towards the man's ear and spoke very quietly.
"I promise you, if you don't get something sorted out stat, I will personally see to it that you, your manager, and your manager's manager will all be in Sir James Gelder's office tomorrow answering some very difficult questions."
"You can't do that!" the man whined.
"James is my godson, and, yes, I can do that."
Edith had never seen Anthony give anyone the sort of laser stare that he now turned on the poor man. Quickly he found a key, led the two of them to a quiet room, and then tried to deal with Fleet Street's finest and order Anthony a taxi at the same time.
"Ye gods! That shouldn't have happened" gasped Anthony as he sank into an uncomfortable chair.
"Who could have tipped them off?" Edith thought aloud. "No one at the Embassy, I'm sure of that."
"No, it was more than likely someone at the airport who saw our passports and put two and two together. They contacted someone here and got a handout. The someone here told a few journalist contacts and they got an even bigger handout. The only people who lose are us."
"Who's Sir James Gelder?" she said.
"Mm? Oh, my godson, and, incidentally, Chairman of BAE. It sometimes comes in useful."
Edith giggled, but there was something odd about the quality of the laughter.
"Thank you…for taking control. I'm afraid I…"
"My darling, it's okay. I do understand. It feels silly, to have that reaction when you're life isn't in danger, but it makes psychological sense."
"I know but…" She began to weep and he cuddled her.