Edith had asked Anthony for a wedding present. He would have given her anything in the world no matter the cost, but his rooted, practical Edith didn't want any material possessions, nothing that could be bought or ordered or built.
"Whatever it is, I'll give you anything. Of course I will," he offered. He didn't hesitate either, though his mind reeled at the possibilities. Her expression alerted him that this was a serious matter to her.
"I want you to bring the letters—my letters—tomorrow. I want to take them with us on the honeymoon, please."
"The letters?" he repeated. Organized man that he was, he knew exactly where they were. All 337 of them were bundled neatly and tucked away in his closet, much the way he had placed is nearly overwhelming agony in a tidy box and stuffed it away into the furthest corner from his mind. He'd fought every single day of the past year to ignore both packages.
"The letters," she confirmed. Edith knew what she was asking. They were not just correspondence but the only tangible evidence of the pain they'd both suffered, the pain he alone had caused regardless of his intentions. She was asking Anthony to hand them over to her for a reason she hadn't yet revealed.
"Consider it done," he'd said weakly.
And so, when Edith came downstairs for breakfast the morning of their wedding day to find a package, wrapped in pale blue paper with a poppy tied to it with twine, she knew what it had cost him. She ran her fingers over it reverently, as though his living heart was contained within.
"Something fancy from Sir Strallan?" Cora asked jovially, totally unaware of the magnitude of the gift.
"Not exactly, but it's just what I wanted," Edith replied.
"Well, whatever it is, why don't you leave it until you've eaten something? It's going to be a big day."
"No, thank you, I'd like to make sure it's packed with my things for our sailing. I'll just run it to Anna."
By the time Edith returned to the breakfast table, the rest of the Crawleys had assembled.
"When is Granny joining us?" Mary asked, avoiding eye contact with Edith. They woke up like two awkward lovers, blushing and embarrassed. They'd barely spoken since, but there was a palpable levity between them now. Compared to the usual tension, it was an uncomfortable relief that would simply take getting used to.
"Just after ten, I believe," Edith replied, helping herself to another crepe. "Anthony should be here anytime now."
"You seem in high spirits," Robert offered, setting aside his newspaper. What he didn't tell her was what a remarkable difference he noticed in her over the past week. He'd no idea how miserable she was until Sir Anthony was back in her life. It was like reading in the library and not realizing it was dark until someone turned on the light. And Edith was certainly lit up now.
"Of course I am," she said casually. "Today is going to be the easiest day of my life. I don't have to do a thing but repeat all the right words and take a ring. Compared to analyzing the complexities of modern female politics or uprooting a stump with a tractor, this should be no problem at all. Anna's pressing my white day dress right now, I've just gorged myself on my favorite meal. We're only missing one thing."
"Aunt Rosamund's icy glare and uncanny ability to operate like a one-woman gossip rag?" Mary asked dryly. Edith and Matthew had to stifle their laughter as Robert gave a disapproving glare, though even he was trying not to crack a grin.
"No, I meant my groom. Well, that and our baby sister. It doesn't seem quite right, does it? Not having Sybil with us."
Robert and Cora exchanged a quick glance that went unnoticed by the enthusiastic sisters, still cracking jokes with Matthew as though they were all children again.
There was such happiness in the air that the whole household was affected. Even Carson was humming a little tune as he refreshed the coffee, and O'Brien actually smiled at the boy that brought the morning papers. The sun shone once again in Edith's world, or perhaps for the first time, and it was absolutely infectious.
When the footman came in to announce a visitor nearly everyone in the dining room was surprised. "It's not yet half-nine," Mary pointed out, somewhat confused.
"Anthony is early everywhere he goes," Edith explained.
"Care for me to entertain him while you get ready?" Matthew offered, worried Edith would want to be a typical bride and conceal herself until the vows.
"Oh, no. He's seen me before," she said, utterly placid.
"Forgive me, Your Lordship," said the young footman, "But it isn't Sir Strallan."
"I didn't think so," Robert beamed. He stood and cast a mischievous glance round the table. "Please show them in."
"Papa, what?" Edith began, but she didn't have to wait for long. In bound Sybil, a pink bundle in her arms, Tom following closely behind.
"We didn't dream you'd make it over. Oh, and with the baby and all," Edith cried, rushing to hug her sister.
"Mama sent for us the moment you told her you'd have to wait a week," Sybil explained as she kissed everyone on the cheek. Edith, who was always fond of Tom for teaching her to drive and was also feeling particularly generous today, threw her arms around her nervous brother-in-law.
"I'm ever so glad you could come," she grinned.
"Actually," Cora said quietly, "It was your father's idea."
Sybil looked sincerely touched. As everyone cooed over baby Madeline, Edith snuck to her stiff, stoic father and kissed him on the check. "Thank you, Papa. It means the world to me, and to Sybil I know."
"I couldn't let my last daughter go without a proper gift," he muttered, patting Edith's hand.
Anthony arrived while Edith was getting dressed. The Crawley women were all gathered around her, chatting happily in Edith's room as Anna pinned up her hair. The baby was gurgling and grinning on Cora's lap, a constant source of entertainment.
"Careful, Sybil," Mary warned. "Little Madeline will be influenced by her wicked Aunts and then we're all in trouble."
Edith turned in her chair to face them all, the picture of ease and contentment. She was so relaxed, so content. The knowledge that Anthony, her Anthony, was waiting downstairs in his morning coat, waiting to marry her, just seemed unfathomably wonderful.
The gentlemen met the ladies as they gathered in the entry.
"Hello, Sir Anthony. Fancy seeing you here," Edith muttered to him, barely able to contain her joy.
"Thought I'd pop in and see if I might have that watch back," he returned, kissing her temple. "Am I intruding on anything?"
"Not at all. And you may have your watch back in twenty minutes," she said firmly.
They watched as their guests collected themselves: Cora brushed something off of Robert's jacket; Carson offered Mrs. Hughes his arm; Anna and Mr. Bates offered to escort Granny in the motor. It looked more like a family outing to the park than a wedding, which suited Edith and Anthony perfectly well. "We'll look like a parade," Tom joked, propping Madeline against his shoulder.
And perhaps they did, with Anthony and Edith leading them, hand in hand, as they walked in the morning sun to the register several blocks away.
The ceremony was brief, and crowded as the registrar's secretary noted curtly. Edith asked if Anna and Bates might be the signing witnesses, which no one objected to. The Bateses, Carson, and Mrs. Hughes had been told by Anthony to sit with the family. It was all quite lovely despite its complete lack of convention, or perhaps even because of it.
Edith was far shorter than Anthony. Standing close together, hands joined while they stared at each other and not the squat little man officiating, it was much more noticeable. The way she craned her neck to look up at him only contributed to the image of mutual adoration they displayed. Her dress, ivory lace over cotton with blue embroidery at the neck and a pale gren sash around her waist, was the perfect pairing to his tweed suit. And when Anthony bent down to gently and modestly kiss his wife, there was no doubting the love they shared by any of the attendees.
Among the cheers and applause, Anthony scooped Lady Strallan into his arm so he might hold her tightly. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his, feeling some unabashed tears fall from his beautiful blue eyes.
"Hello, wife," he whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry I'm late."
"Hello, husband," she said back, half laughing and half crying. "It's quite alright. I knew you'd come along."
They managed another chaste kiss before being overtaken by the family, eager to give their own congratulations.
A/N: Just what is Edith planning on doing with those letters anyway? :) Stay tuned! And thanks again, for your kind reviews and for reading my little fantasy.
(I didn't realize was a cheap romantic I was until I tried to do justice to their wedding. I promise I'll lighten up on the fluff soon.)