Had a pretty hard going last 24 hours so writing this has been the perfect tonic. Thanks for your reviews, you are all very kind. Thanks to my friend again for her help.

Anna's POV

It is now Sunday afternoon, and I have been a married woman for forty eight wonderful hours. I think Mrs Hughes must have sensed something was going on with myself and John, as she has granted us this afternoon off to, in her words, 'do as we wish.'

As I wait for John by the back door, all the other servants are busy about their tasks, casting glances down the hall at me and my leisurely attire. The familiar sound of John with his cane reaches my ears and my gaze is instantly turned towards the stairs. He appears, hair slightly looser than it would be if he was working and flashes me that smile that he saves only for me.

'Ready, Mrs Bates?' John whispers, walking beyond me and opening the back door. I nod and walk past him into the cool air outside.

'Where are you two off?' Miss O Brien calls from the other end of the corridor.

'Never you mind,' Mrs Hughes interrupts. 'Back to work please, Mrs O Brien. Oh, Mr Bates.'

John sighs and turns to face Mrs Hughes. 'Can you both be back by dinner? We will need Anna to be serving.'

'Yes, we're not going far.' John smiles. 'Is that all?'

'Aye. Have a nice afternoon.'

We decide to stay away from the village and take a stroll on the grounds of the house. Once out of sight of prying eyes, John takes me by surprise by taking my hand in his. He leads me to the lake, and we stand beside it for a moment, hand in hand. It's a peaceful moment, watching the ripples on the water as we both are stood deep in thought.

Would you like to find somewhere to sit?' John asks, looking around himself for the perfect place. 'Ahh.' He walks a few metres to a nearby tree and proceeds to take off his overcoat. Laying it on the ground, I realise he means for us to sit on it. Sitting before leaning his back against the tree, he gestures for me to sit between his legs. Taking off my hat, I oblige him. I lay my hat on the ground beside us and rest my hands on his which have quickly found their way around my waist. Settling back against him, It's like the world has melted away as he begins to kiss my neck.

'Mr Bates, do you know what that does to me?' I whisper, closing my eyes.

'Yes, why do you think I'm doing it?' He replies, with a certain tone to his voice that sends a shiver down my spine.

'You were never this mischievous before I took you on, John Bates.'

'I think my mother would have disagreed.' John laughs. 'I'd often get a clip for something or other that I said.'

Something John had hardly ever spoken to me about before was his childhood. I know it was hard for him, he was very close to his mother, but I'd still like to get to know what he was like when he was younger. It is what has made him the man he is today after all.

'I remember once she took me to visit my Nan in Ireland.' John begins and I sit up, eager to hear his story. 'We were staying for the week. There wasn't much going on for a lad of my age, twelve I think I was. I had to find some way to amuse myself and I decided to try and convince my Nan her house was haunted.'

'John Bates, you wicked creature,' I laugh.

'Well it came back to haunt me in a way.' John continues, his voice so soothing when he is telling me his anecdote it is almost like he is reading me a bedtime story. 'My Nan got wise to it. I went downstairs one night for a drink and there she was in the kitchen, waiting for me and she sprayed me with water. Near enough killed me so it did.' Whilst listening to John, I smile on the occasions he slips back into his Irish accent. Of course, he's always got that hint of it when he speaks, but when telling stories about his past it's more prominent. like he is back there. 'My mother scolded me something rotten the next morning.'

'I don't blame her.'

'Jahhn,' he begins as he imitates his mother. This time there is no doubt to his Irish heritage in his tone of voice. ' You grandmother is 86 years old, your jokes could kill her.'

'And you masquerade as a man of honour,' I tease, still giggling at his story.

'Well, I am a reformed character.' He replies. 'And most of that is down to you.'

'No it's not,' I reply. 'The reformation you did yourself. It's the finished article I fell in love with.'

'Sure, I got my life back on track, prison has made me realise I never want to go back...' he stops short and I know why. Suddenly the reality of our situation comes back into our consciousness. The possibility that John may still be in the thoughts of those dealing with enquiry into Vera's death is very much existent. The atmosphere has turned from good-humoured and cheerful to cold and despondent.

John needs me at this time as much as I need him. Pushing myself up onto my knees, I turn to kneel in front of him. Placing my hands on his cheeks, I pull his face gently towards mine. 'No matter what comes, I will be right beside you.'

'That's good to know. Needing to be with you comes as naturally to me as breathing.' John pulls me close to him then before whispering. 'I need you so much, I sometimes wonder how I ever survived without you.'

I kiss him then. He responds eagerly, sitting up before gently guiding me to lay down. His eyes are dark as he lies besides me, his breathing becoming shallower, as is my own. By now he has discarded his jacket and is practically lying atop me, his lips never parting from mine. I am losing myself in him as the kisses and the desire within the both of us becomes stronger. Realising where this is going, I am wondering if it is wise to allow ourselves to take it any further, particularly when anyone could walk by. It takes all the strength and willpower I can muster to pull myself away from John.

'Darling..' I utter weakly. ' We can't.' John stops and lays his head on my chest, his breathing frantic.

'Sorry, I don't know what came over me,'

'Whatever it was, I felt it too,' I reply truthfully.

'We are quite an explosive combination,' John laughs, sitting up again. I kneel beside him and brush his hair back into place. 'Archetypal newlyweds.'

I look at the ground beside him before admitting, 'I still can't believe you are my husband.'

'Yeah, it's hard to believe you could attract a man as rugged and handsome as myself.' John smirks, reaching down for my hand. Stroking my fingers, his gaze never leaves mine. In these moments when we just stare at each other, I have never felt so alive. His sole attention is on me and the way he looks at me makes me feel like I am the only woman in the world.

'Thank you. For saving me from a life of loneliness. I was destined for a life alone until you came to Downton.'

'The pleasure is all mine.' He replies before a cheeky grin spreads across his lips. 'Mrs Hughes never showed me much interest so you'll do.'

Narrowing my eyes at him before playfully slapping him on his arm, we sit as we were before we let our emotions take control. We chat about everything and nothing. It's not long before the air turns chillier and we decide it's probably best to make our way back to the house.

'Thank you for a nice afternoon, Anna.' John says as we reach the back entrance to the house. Opening the door, we are greeting to the sounds of Mrs Patmore bellowing at Daisy, O 'Brien and Mrs Hughes arguing about something or other and Thomas playing up to Mr Carson.

'Back to reality,' I sigh, placing a hand on John's back before walking inside.