Chapter 49
John watched as England sped by. He had finished what business he could earlier than expected, and decided he just wanted to go home. He hadn't written Anna. He hadn't even telephoned Mr. Carson. He had left Mr. Ford's office, checked the time, and had nearly forgotten to go to his mother's house—his house—for his bag.
The day was bright. His business with Mr. Ford had been about his mother's estate, such as it was, but he had mentioned seeing Vera. It earned little more than a raised eyebrow, and the advice to be cautious, and keep the money somewhere safe. He would tell Anna tonight. Really, he needed more time to see what Vera would be willing to agree to before he started legal proceedings. He hadn't noticed that church before. John squinted. Perhaps he had. He had made this trip so many times in the last few years he had every inch memorized and he could have forgotten something in the haze.
Putting the money in his bank, or his mother's, wasn't safe. John wasn't sure what to do with it, so he kept it with him. Perhaps he'd open a new account, or speak to Lord Grantham's business advisor about an investment. The day was beautiful. Not that there was much to invest in during the war. He was hungry. Or perhaps there was. John realized how much he didn't know. He would see Anna soon, and tell her. John smiled. Anna would smile. He wasn't even sure if, at this point, he needed to talk to Vera, or communicate with her. He could be able to simply inform her of what was going to happen. He would see Anna soon, and ask her.
John shifted. The sun was in his eyes, beautiful as it was. He couldn't really ask Anna to marry him, not when he was married. But he could…suggest…imply…offer hope. He smiled. He could offer hope, when previously there had been none. He needed to make certain Vera was, at least, comfortable. She wasn't well. The fiasco of their marriage wasn't entirely her fault. She would, surely, see reason. He would tell Anna tonight.
The train cut through the Midlands. John thought of the first time he made the journey. So long ago. It seemed like yesterday. An April morning, full of promise and soft light, and now, a November midday with the clear air and bright light of autumn. It couldn't take much longer now. They would just need to be patient. They had waited so long, what was another year? Another year was torture, but it would be worth it.
John shifted. His hip was starting to ache. They would need something to do. The fields were full of cows. Lord Grantham likely would make it possible for them to stay on a bit once married. They wouldn't be the first married servants. John smiled at his reflection. He saw Anna, smiling back. They would need to save some money following the divorce. He liked using they.
Married people didn't live under someone else's authority. John wasn't sure they could stand being married and still be subject to Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. They would save, and in time, leave. Perhaps open a shop. He looked up. The sky was dotted with fluffy blue clouds. Perhaps open a hotel. A small one. A hotel would really be perfect for them. He could see it. Small, simple but luxurious. Somewhere in Yorkshire. They both liked it there. It would be nice to stay near Downton if possible, and near Hetty. John smiled into the distance Hetty could come live with them, if she liked. She would have a new family. She would be a big sister to his daughter with Anna. John knew what he wanted there: one daughter, small, pale, and blond just like Anna. Patient, kind, loving, intelligent, and gentle, just like Anna.
They would go to bed when they wanted and get up when they wanted. John would sleep at night, sleep, with his body curled around Anna's. It would be warm, and perfect. He could nuzzle her hair, listen to her murmurs, feel her snug and warm at his side. He would give Vera whatever she wanted to gain his freedom.
The train was pulling into Downton. John had no idea they were so close, lost as he was. There was Lady Mary. There was Mr. Branson. He had so much to tell Anna. What concert? He wanted to ask Mr. Branson about Lord Grantham and his uniform, but he couldn't with Lady Mary in the car. He'd find out soon enough. He almost wished he'd delayed so he could miss the concert. Anna had mentioned the new maid. John didn't think he'd been away long. It felt like a lifetime and no time.
The drive. The park. The cool fresh air full of possibility. He was a sentimental fool. The house. A bed. A large and proper bed. No more groping in the dark, able to hold each other properly through the night. He would do whatever was required. Anna was waiting at the door. He would tell her tonight. He would ask her. Tell her. Anna was the first person he saw, as on that soft spring morning.
She was beaming, discretely. "You didn't say you were coming." He wanted to pull her to him, and kiss her, and tell her.
"I didn't know myself until today." He would wait until after the concert. John's heart sank as he realized between the concert, Lady Mary's arrival, and the new maid, Anna's time would be in high demand. Nothing would dampen him. He was about to be hers, forever. Her smile, the one she usually saved for private, sent a thrill down John's spine. His own lingered, while Lady Mary went about arriving. Anna disappeared behind her. John retraced the steps he'd taken that distant morning to the back door.
He had so much to tell her.