Edith was bathed, dressed, and pacing the front room in anticipation by eight the next morning. More than once Carson passed, eyeing her skeptically as he did, but she didn't move from the windows. Partly out of giddy anticipation, and partly-she had to admit-out of fear he wouldn't come at all; that something would have hit him in the night that made him back out again. Her stomach was in knots as she chewed her lip and waited.

"Will you be sitting for breakfast, Milady?" Carson asked in his sonorous voice, causing Edith to jump.

"Yes, we both will be. Sir Anthony and myself," she replied. Taking in Carson's subtly disapproving expression she dropped her chin and assured, "Papa won't mind. I promise."

Carson walked away stiffly, leaving Edith to watch the clock.

All of her anxiety was forgotten when her characteristically prompt Anthony pulled up at exactly 8:55. Edith's heart leapt as she dashed out of the study and into the entry. Carson, having by chance been in the hall already, was nearly to the door. Edith tried to flit past him to answer it herself, but his admonishing, shocked face prompted her to stop. She waited impatiently directly behind him as he haughtily straightened his coat and cleared his throat. The moment he finally opened the door, Edith relaxed.

"Why, Sir Strallan, are you expected?" the old butler greeted sarcastically.

"Good Morning," Anthony muttered to Carson, handing off his hat. He barely got the words out before Edith had him by the hand. "And good morning to you, my sweet," he laughed.

"You were almost late."

"I most certainly was not," Anthony argued, "I had Samson take the car twice around the block because I was worried about being too early."

"I told you I'd be up. Never mind, care for tea?" She kissed Anthony then, jumping playfully with her arms around his neck, catching him quite off guard. Carson cleared his throat, perceptibly displeased.

"Are the other's down yet?" Edith asked him, not letting go of a slightly blushing Anthony.

"No, Milady, None of them seems quite so eager to start their day at this hour. But the tea is laid out."

"Thank you," she said with a smile, trying to appeal to the stuffy old butler before retreating to the dining room. They sat beside each other at the table, Anthony pulling her chair closer to his as they settled.

"Did you sleep well?" he enquired as Edith poured their tea.

"Not a wink," she sighed, then leaning in closer whispered seductively, "I couldn't stop thinking about our conversation on the settee."

Anthony blushed, nearly dropping his jam spoon and said, "Nor I my dear," in a shaky voice. Indulging her impulse, Edith kissed him again, running her hand over his knee as she felt his lips respond. When she parted her mouth to get the slightest taste of his upper lip with her tongue, he leaned away from her.

"Edith," he warned, "You were never so… open with your affection before." Still, he gave her hand a squeeze so she wouldn't feel rejected.

"I grant that I was shy, and unsure, and a bit reserved for your sake more than mine, but now I don't care at all, and I'm going to kiss you how I like, whenever I like. Do you mind?"

"Terribly," he sighed in mock gravity, leaning in again for another kiss.

Just as their lips met, Robert and Matthew entered together, and the pair separated reluctantly. "You did go home last night, Strallan, didn't you?" Robert asked. Anthony looked mildly horrified until Edith and Matthew laughed at Robert's dry humor and the poor man finally relaxed.

After breakfast, Edith and Anthony waited in the parlor for the ladies to come down so they might say hello before taking a long walk and a picnic in the park.

Sitting close on the sofa, Anthony looked apprehensive. "What is it," Edith asked, the color draining from her face.

"I stopped by the registrar this morning and made our appointment. It's for Thursday."

"Oh that's wonderful," she cried, reaching to hug him, but he stopped her.

"No Edith, a week from tomorrow."

"A week? We have to wait a whole week?"

"I had also hoped it could be sooner, but in the grand scheme I suppose seven days isn't unbearable."

"Speak for yourself," she pouted. She leaned against him and placed a small peck on his freshly-shaven jaw. Anthony patted her arm affectionately, but this was not sufficient for her. In the most adorable and erotic gesture Anthony had ever been on the receiving end of, Edith expressed at once her frustration and her tenacity—she bit him on the square of his jaw, just below his ear.

He suddenly felt quite warm, the weight of her body against his becoming almost too much for him. "If you're going to insist on doing things like that," he managed as he forced some distance between them, "I'm going to have to spend the next week in a monastery."

Edith, tickled by the notion that she had an effect on him, leaned one shoulder into him demurely while her right hand stealthily slipped onto his upper thigh. Anthony jumped up and stood near the mantle, a good four or five paces away from her. "You cannot be trusted."

"You wouldn't really leave me for a week would you?" She asked coyly, ignoring him.

Anthony sighed, happily bewildered by his Edith. "No, I don't think I could even if I wanted. Even," he said with particular emphasis, "if I happen to know your father's the best shooter in the county."

They laughed, both recognizing how lucky they were to be so happy. It wasn't long ago that both of them separately believed they'd never laugh again. And now, in the morning light, everything was paved before them, their lives laid out as one.

Only they weren't one yet, in Edith's mind. She loved him so deeply, she wanted to show him. She also wanted to show him that they belonged together, that they were good together, to ensure she would always be his, and to prove to him once and for all that he was perfectly capable of any and all marital activities either of them could hope for, despite his blasted arm.

And none of that, she decided, would wait a whole week.

"May we dine at yours tonight, Anthony?"

"Of course, if you wish," Anthony replied, slightly puzzled by the sudden change in topic.

"I do wish it," she replied, her mind already wandering to the possibilities. "I can think of nothing better."