First, I need to apologize. You no doubt noticed some of the dialogue in the previous chapter was lifted from that wonderful scene in Anthony's library where Edith put her foot down, or forward and let Anthony know he was on her hook. Those words belong to Julian Fellowes and the wonderful people who created those characters. They seemed to fit so perfectly into what I was doing, so I included them. I meant to include an acknowledgement in that chapter but forgot.
Secondly, I wish to thank all who continue to offer kind words over this. I am having fun with it and hope you all are too! And now...
Edith left for her "party" with plenty of time to stop along the way to change from her party ensemble into her hottest dress, a green number that fit her perfectly in all the right places, complete with heels that made her legs look perfect. She admired herself in the mirror on the bathroom wall in the pub where she had stopped and smiled. Fastening the clasp on her jade necklace, she smiled. Anthony Strallan was going to be hers tonight.
She arrived a few minutes early and after a quiet word with the maitre d', was shown to a small dining room on the second floor. Looking around, she realized this must have once been a small lounge in the castle, with windows that overlooked a back garden. The dining table was intended for no more than four but of course, was now set for two. Fresh flowers were on the side bar and a small arrangement in the center of the table. A fire was set and two very comfortable looking chairs sat to either side of the hearth. As Edith took it all in, she decided it was a room that had been designed for romantic dinners that perhaps might lead to a tryst in one of the guest rooms above.
She heard the door open and turned to greet Anthony but it wasn't he who stepped through. Instead, a man about Anthony's age of medium height with dark wavy hair and light eyes smiled at her. "They told me you had arrived ahead of Anthony," he said softly.
A small frown creased Edith's brow. "Anthony?" Could this man be a reporter, she wondered.
"Ah, just like Anthony to not tell you about me," he smiled again. "I'm Thomas Sowell. This is my castle. Well, my family's anyway. Anthony and I were at Cambridge together."
"This is your castle?" It was lame but it was all Edith could think to say.
"Yes, in the family for generations I'm afraid. The family still occupies the east wing but the rest has been made into guest accommodations, with the restaurant and rooms, of course. That has provided the income to keep the old place up and even modernize. And we still own the land around us as well. Much of the food we serve is produced on the farms around us. But don't let me bore you with all that. I really only popped in to tell you that Anthony phoned earlier and he is being followed by a rather persistent reporter, it seems. He expects to be here soon but is trying to send the reporter on a different path, before he comes here."
"You knew him at Cambridge?"
"Yes, we studied law together, although neither of us ever put it into practice. Our parents seemed to think we should study it. He was a far better student than I in the classroom and I'm afraid I schooled him on how to create mischief."
Edith chuckled. "It is difficult for me to picture him in any mischief."
"That's because it isn't natural for him. He has to be dragged into it. And sadly for him, he was usually the one who was caught. He's so acutely determined to protect those he cares about, you see. Would never abandon me to save himself. Poor chap stayed on the wrong side of his father for being tangled up with me. But we've been friends ever since, even through all his troubles since his wife died. Though I will say, he's never brought one of his ladies here before. "
"Well, he still hasn't. I'm not one of his ladies and besides, I brought myself."
Sowell laughed, which made Edith chuckle as well. "Well, you certainly aren't like any lady he's ever kept company with before. But I have to ask, even though it isn't my business, but... you are so young and Anthony is..."
"Isn't so young," Edith supplied.
"No, he isn't. And more than his age, Anthony is an old soul, his head far too much in the past; quite Victorian in manner, really. I don't see why you'd be meeting him here."
"Perhaps I like his Victorian manner. It is a rather nice view from the pedestal," she said flirtingly ." But while his manner may be old fashioned, Anthony hardly thinks like a Victorian man. I remember he used to talk about how despite the changes that have been made, women still often struggle to be seen as equals."
"That's the Anthony before his wife died," Thomas Sowell replied sadly. "I doubt he gives much thought at all to any of that anymore. Her death changed him so very much."
"On the surface, I agree. But underneath, I think that man is still there, struggling with the grief."
"Perhaps," he answered. "Well, I've delivered the message and I am needed downstairs, I'm sure. Is there anything I can have sent up for you?"
"No thank you. I'll be fine," Edith smiled warmly.
"Well alright then," and he turned to leave. Pausing at the door, he looked over his shoulder. "You will be careful, won't you? I mean, I don't wish to see Anthony hurt but... you will protect your own heart?"
"You're a very kind man and I can see why Anthony has you as a friend. I don't wish to see him hurt either. And while I may seem very young to you, I'm not a fool. I will be careful, for both our sakes."
Sowell gave her a sad smile and nodded before leaving the room.
Anthony arrived a few minutes later. "So sorry I'm late," he said as he walked through the door, fidgeting with his clothes. "Bloody reporter wouldn't leave me alone. Drove all around trying to get rid of him."
"And did you?" Edith was standing near the fire, smiling at him.
Anthony finally looked up and saw her standing there in her green dress and froze in place, his mouth hanging open just a little as his eyes widened. After a moment he snapped out of his stupor and blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"Did you manage to get rid of the reporter?" She spoke slowly, enunciating every word clearly, amused by his reaction to her; amused and very pleased.
"Ah, yes... I, erm... " His head tilted slightly and a crooked smile broke at his mouth. His eyes were twinkling at her now but with an expression that could only be read as appreciation.
"You ... erm what?"
Another blink of the eyes and he stepped closer. "You look... so very lovely," he said barely above a whisper.
"Thank you," she smiled. "You look quite handsome as well. " And he did, dressed as he was in grey trousers and a blue jacket. The jacket set off his eyes, making them look even brighter than normal, Edith thought.
"I've ordered drinks," he informed her. "They should be up soon. Why don't we sit by the fire until they arrive?"
"So how are you managing without your sister?" Edith asked once they were in their chairs.
"I was managing quite well until your aunt appeared on the doorstep again. She pushed her way in, frightening my staff in the process. Found me in the library. Had a devil of a time keeping her at arm's length."
"Oh? Well, she can be persistent."
"Yes," he muttered. And then lifting mischief filled eyes to her face, another smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "Seems to be a family trait."
"Perhaps. But you seem to enjoy my persistence."
"Enjoy? Er... possibly. You..." he paused and looked down at the knees of his trousers for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. "I find you so much easier to be with. You don't seem to have any expectations... for the Anthony with the reputation, I mean. "
"True, I much prefer the real Anthony. Although I wouldn't mind terribly if I experienced a little of the reputation.
His brows lifted as his eyes widened. As his face settled into a more natural expression he commented, "I doubt the wisdom of that."
"Oh but I'm not in a wise mood tonight."
"And I am in the mood to be the real Anthony, as you say," he countered.
Deciding it was probably not the time to push him, Edith glanced around the room casually. "This must have been a sitting room at one time."
"Perhaps," he replied. "Though it was more likely a bedroom."
"Perhaps. How long has this been a ... well, whatever it is. Obviously a restaurant but there are rooms upstairs."
"I believe it was Thomas' father who converted it, or perhaps grandfather. I really don't remember. He brought some of us here on holiday from Cambridge and it was well established then."
"Were there girls on this holiday?" Edith asked cheekily.
"No. But we did manage to find some at a pub nearby. It became a party, although probably not as exciting as you're imagining, I suspect."
There was a soft knock at the door and then it opened. Two young men entered carrying trays of food. Anthony looked at Edith. "I hope you don't mind; I ordered ahead."
"Not at all." Glancing at the trays she added, "it smells delicious."
The food was indeed delicious. Edith thought that it was as if Anthony had known her preferences and ordered accordingly. One of the young men stayed to serve each course but as the main course ended, Anthony sent him away.
"I hope you don't mind?" He asked Edith, concern clouding his eyes.
"No, I don't."
"It's just that... well, I thought the conversation might be better without added ears?"
"Yes, probably. And it is silly to expect him to stand around while we eat anyway. We can serve ourselves, if necessary."
Edith encouraged Anthony to talk about his travels, which he did quite openly, describing his favorite cities of Vienna, Salzburg, Copenhagen, Bruges, Madrid, and of course the Italian cities of Venice, Florence, and Rome.
"I've never been to any. It all sounds lovely," Edith told him. "I should like to go to any of those places."
"Oh you simply must, my dear; at least a few."
"I think it would be so much more enjoyable if I were with someone who could appreciate them with me."
His eyes widened and then his jaw set as a dark cloud seemed to move over him. "Edith, I can't let you believe that there will ever be anything more between us than this dinner tonight. "
"I refuse to accept what you've just said."
"You must." He seemed to be closing down again and Edith frantically tried to think of a way to bring him back. "I see no reason why we can't at least be friends," she replied. "We have many interests in common, it seems. And I find your travels fascinating."
With a weary crooked smile, he capitulated. "Alright, friends then. But you mustn't ever think it could be more."
"Perhaps; we'll see what the future brings. But I am enjoying dinner tonight very much and I shall be content with that," she replied in an effort to calm his obvious nervousness with the idea of the two of them together.
They finished consuming the meal and settled once again in the chairs by the fire. He asked her what her plans were and she explained that she wanted to become a writer. To her surprise, he encouraged her. "None of my family thinks I can or should do it," she told him.
"Why ever not? You are clearly a very bright young woman and I've no doubt that once you decide what you want to write about, you'll do splendidly."
"You see, this is why I need you in my life," she said. "When you say it, I feel as if it is possible."
"Of course it is possible. Don't let your family take away your dreams, Edith. "
"Will you..." she paused, afraid to push too far.
"What?" He was annoyed, she thought.
"I was just going to ask if you would write to me, but..."
"Write to you?" He looked perplexed. "Why would you want me..."
"It wouldn't have to be anything big, just... perhaps tell me about where you are and... just... never mind. I just thought it would be nice to hear from you sometimes, to hear from someone who actually thinks I am capable. Or maybe not write, but just text sometimes."
He studied her for a long moment. "Alright, I suppose there's no harm. I will need your number if I'm to text however. "
Excited, Edith quickly rattled off her number. Anthony entered it into his phone and then looked across to her. "No phone calls, mind you. Just a text now and again."
"Right, whatever you say. I promise I won't abuse your kindness."
Anthony frowned slightly at that. "I never thought you would. Thankfully, while you are nearly as persistent as your aunt, you are also more considerate."
Edith beamed at him, just as she beamed the whole drive back that night, remembering his parting kiss. There was more between them than he wanted to admit. She was certain of it. The night hadn't gone as far as she'd hoped but in her mind it was still quite satisfactory. Arriving at Downton very late, Edith realized everyone had gone up already. That was perfect in her mind. There would be no questions which would cause awkward answers; at least, not until morning. Her night could be spent pleasantly recalling every part of her evening.
