When Anthony set Edith back on her feet, Robert cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly feeling very much in the way. Anthony and Edith turned to him apprehensively, but Anthony met the Earl's eyes with renewed confidence and assuredness, which pleased Robert to no end.

Whatever may come down the road, whatever decision his daughter had made, Robert wanted her to be fulfilled and cared for. A year ago he wasn't at all certain Sir Anthony was the man to do it, but tonight he realized two things. The first, that whatever he thought his daughter needed he'd been mistaken, and two, that Anthony was far more resilient, self-sacrificing, and in love with Edith than he'd ever given him credit for in the past.

"This has proved to be quite a remarkable evening," Robert said dryly. "I don't wish to keep you, as I'm sure you have much to discuss. Let me just say this, if I may." He looked at Edith, his chest swelling with pride for her. She knew herself, and never lost her resolve. Perhaps there was more of himself in her than he recognized. "I always thought you could do better, Edith, and I worried for your future. I recognize that I underestimated you. Both of you. And for that I am deeply sorry. I didn't realize how," but words failed him. "At any rate, I apologize."

"Lord Grantham," Anthony said, his voice firm and clear. "I would like permission to marry your daughter."

Robert almost laughed. After the display they'd just shown, the absolute catastrophe everyone had made of things, Strallan still held to convention and decorum enough to ask for Edith's hand. With a shake of his head the Earl said, "My permission, my blessing, and my most sincere welcome to the family. And you might consider calling me Robert."

It was decided that Anthony and Edith would walk to Grantham House, cutting through the park, and the rest of the Crawleys would join them there following supper. "And if you'd be so kind," Anthony asked, putting his coat over Edith's shoulders, "To send my driver over as well. He'll be rather surprised."

"As will they all," Robert conceded, turning back for the Lesters'.

There was time to sort everything out. A lifetime of it, now, Edith was sure. And so they walked, her arm around his waist, his around her shoulders, in blissful silence. The night was cool but pleasant, the park deserted and serene, and the relief and comfort each of them felt was finally sinking in.

"May I ask just one thing?" Anthony finally spoke as they neared the West gate.

"If you must."

"How on earth, my darling Edith, did you ever become so… irrepressible?" She blushed a little from his flattery, looking down as he watched her and waited for a response.

"Because of you."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Before I knew you, I was just Edith. Ignored by practically everyone and forever jealous of my sisters, I was terribly empty. But then you took me on that first drive—do you remember?—and you noticed me, truly noticed. When Mary sent you away—"

"It wasn't Mary, darling. It was the War," Anthony interrupted. Edith noted to herself she'd have to apologize to Mary all over again and continued.

"Well, when you went away, I was so afraid of being invisible again. But I wasn't. I held my head up and worked hard; I learned to drive, I kissed a farmer, I dressed battle wounds. I came into myself, in a way, because every time I felt inadequate or undeserving, I thought of you, and what you would say to me, and I was fortified."

"You give me far too much credit."

"I disagree, but we have time to argue about it."

"Indeed, my dearest, we do."

Edith and Anthony called for a tray from a rather startled-looking Carson and while they waited, Edith found Anna to tell her their news. After all they'd been through together the past year, Edith felt it was only right she should be among the first to know. Anna cried, which touched Edith in a part of her soul she didn't know she had until she met Anthony.

After eating what they could, which wasn't much because of the excitement, Edith and Anthony waited in the front parlor for the family, making plans for their future. Together. Edith could still hardly believe it.

When the cars arrived, Edith was suddenly tense with apprehension. "Not to worry," Anthony reassured. "I won't make the same mistake twice. This time I will fight for you." His voice was firm, fierce, and his grip on Edith's hand solid.

But it wasn't necessary. Cora came in first, her arms held wide. "Oh my dears, my dears, congratulations," she sang, hugging Edith and squeezing Sir Anthony's hand. Matthew seemed genuinely glad for them as well, joking, "I'm drafting a guidebook on marrying a Crawly. Care for a copy?"

Only Mary was slightly reserved. Simply offering that well-practiced smile, she said, "I'm pleased for you both," before helping herself to a nightcap.

"And tell me, what are your plans?" Cora asked, pulling Edith and Anthony down to the settee beside her.

"We'd like to be married right away," Edith began. "Any sort of fuss would seem inappropriate and unnecessary."

"I agree," Cora said, suddenly all business.

"We'd like to keep it as small as possible. Just you four, Anna and Bates, Carson and Mrs. Hughes if they'd like, given they've known me since I was crawling. I don't want Granny or Aunt Rosamund, and Sybil won't make it over in time."

"Oh good heavens," Mary interjected. "Who is going to tell Granny?"

"I'll do it," Robert offered, sinking heavily into one of the great armchairs. "She's too dependent on me to commit real harm."

"No," Edith said thoughtfully. "I think I'll do it. I'd like the satisfaction."

"You're a braver man than I," Matthew said wryly."

"And when is this small wedding to take place?" Mary asked.

"We'll make an appointment with the registrar tomorrow," Anthony answered, "and hopefully be wed sometime this week."

"That is soon," Mary replied.

Anthony looked her in the eye assertively. "I think we've waited long enough."

"Hear, hear," Robert said, warming Edith with his support.

"And it's not about a wedding, it's about being married. We need a clean slate, not a white-washed affair," Edith explained.

"Well I think it sounds just perfect," Cora granted, patting Edith's knee. "Perhaps a nice supper back here?"

"Certainly," Edith agreed.

"And then we'll slip away on honeymoon," Anthony finished. "Perhaps six weeks or so."

"Yes, plenty of time to let the gossip die down," Cora said.

"Precisely," Anthony muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

"Oh, let the gossip fly," Edith huffed dismissively. "I couldn't care less what anyone thinks. For once, Edith Crawly is going to get exactly what she wants. I'm completely impervious to everything else."

And she was. As the rest of the party chattered away jovially, trying their best to make Edith and Anthony see that this time was different, this time he was welcome, Edith was nearly dumb with happiness. She held onto his hand the entire evening, not willing to let him go just yet.

As the hour grew later, the Crawleys excused themselves one by one. "You'll be going up soon, Edith?" Robert urged, though it wasn't really a question. Regardless of what she had been through, her honor was still something he felt obligated to defend.

"Of course, Papa," she assured, kissing him on the cheek. But when he was out of shot, she told Carson to let Anna know she shouldn't wait up.