A week had passed since O'Brien's disgrace when Lady Grantham received a letter from Lord Hexham. Both she and Robert were beginning to feel rather concerned over the lack progress between Lord Hexham and Mary, and so the news that Lord Hexham would be down in Yorkshire for about a month, and he would be glad for an opportunity to stay at Downton was met with enthusiasm.
The next few weeks were spent in agony for Edith. Both excitement at the thought of seeing him again, and fear that on his arrival she would discover his affection for her had been entirely imagined filled her days and kept her from sleeping at night. She found herself examining her reflection in every shined surface, and checking the contents of her wardrobe, desperate to banish any frumpiness.
Sleep cruelly evaded her the night before his arrival. Her nerves leaped inside her, and half asleep, she could not even sort out her fears in her mind. She simply lay in a fretful lump. Finally, sunlight cracked and Edith dragged herself from her bed. She sat with a bump at her vanity and peered through bleary eyes at the mirror. The horrific sight that met her dragged her from her sleepy haze. Her eyes were red and had black smudges underneath, like fingerprints. Her hair, which at it's best looked gold and vibrant, was dull and mousy.
Thankfully, Anna had her dressed and looking somewhat appealing in a short time. Anna then departed to tend to Lady Sybil, leaving Edith to stare pensively at her reflection. She was soon joined by Mary, who entered her bedroom under the pretence of finding a necklace. Edith watched as Mary listlessly wandered around the room, looking carelessly for the lost bauble. She paused in her tracks and looked at Edith, her face unreadable.
"Have you seen it?" she asked. When Edith replied negative, Mary waltzed towards her and leaned over Edith's shoulder. Their reflections were side by side. Edith could not help but take note of Mary's cold, aristocratic features and dark, flashing eyes, in comparison to her own unimpressive ones. Mary's thick, glossy hair against her limp, mousy locks. Her full lips, perfect nose and arched eyebrows. Edith clutched the side of her chair and stiffened her back in order to prevent herself from shrinking into her seat. Mary hovered for a moment.
"A pity," she murmured into Edith's ear, before leaving silently.
All through breakfast, Edith barely said a word and ate not a morsel. She merely stirred the food around her plate for five minutes, before claiming herself to be quite full. She was then met with a dilemma. She had no wish to miss Lord Hexham's arrival, and yet in her nervy state she longed to go on a walk and rid herself of all her jitters. She settled the matter by going on a short stroll to the folly and back. By the time she had returned to the house, she only had short few minutes to change into her afternoon dress.
The walk had thankfully improved her looks, her eyes were bright and cheeks flushed from the exercise. She also had more of an appetite and ate heartily, relishing the cold salad and gala pie. Nerves thus subdued, Edith found herself looking forward to Lord Hexham's arrival with renewed excitement. The man in question arrived shortly after lunch. He politely declined their offer of food and reassured them that he was perfectly willing to wait until tea. They then adjourned to the Library to allow Lord Hexham a chance to recover from the journey.
Edith positioned herself on the couch to soon be joined by Lord Hexham. Although initially planning to begin their conversation with the usual pleasantries, he could not help exclaiming in delight that Edith was wearing the necklace he gave her. Edith lay a surprised hand on the base of her neck. She had worn it so often, it had become one with her skin.
"I am most fond of it," she admitted, blushing slightly, "I rarely go a day without wearing it,"
Mary, who had just entered the room and had not known how Edith had acquired the necklace cut in "Oh, Edith wears that little trinket everywhere. Even in the evenings and in the Phaeton, despite it being quite inappropriate,"
Ignoring Lady Mary's dismissal of his gift to Lady Edith as a 'little trinket', he turned back to Edith and asked her if she often rode in the Phaeton.
"Indeed, every day. I am taking lessons in fact," Edith admitted proudly.
"How marvellous," Lord Hexham remarked with undisguised regard in his eyes, "For how long have you been learning?"
"For about two weeks," she replied, "Branson; our driver, tells me that I am nearly ready for the streets of London,"
"That's not what Branson has told me," Lord Grantham interrupted, seating himself opposite the pair, "From what I gathered, should you drive down London streets the market stalls will be knocked down and nothing but chaos and devastation will be left in your wake,"
Edith blushed and stared at her hands. "I do rather enjoy racing along, far more exciting," she said eventually.
Lord Hexham laughed congenially, "In that case, perhaps London streets shall be too confining for you,"
Edith beamed. "I shall remain in the countryside for the time being then," she assured him.
"Will you be riding out tomorrow Edith?" Cousin Matthew; who had joined the family to see Lord Hexham, asked. When Edith said that she did indeed plan to do so, Cousin Matthew suggested Lord Hexham join her, "I know he is very fond of riding in Phaetons,"
Lord Hexham had never rode in a Phaeton in his entire life, but was not about to say that. Instead he quickly agreed that he was most eager to join Lady Edith for a ride.
"I would not recommend it," Robert chuckled, "Dear Edith will have you in a ditch should you let her drive you out,"
"I know Mary is anxious for a ride," Cora put in, "Perhaps we should have Branson drive you both out tomorrow after lunch,"
"Oh that is not possible!" Sybil cried out, "Branson is taking me in the Barouche box tomorrow to the Church. It is my turn to do the flowers,"
"Well if Mary is anxious for a ride I am perfectly willing to take both her and Lord Hexham out myself," Edith offered innocently.
For some reason, Mary was less than eager. Lord Hexham, however, was entirely game.
DA
The outing started well enough. The weather was fine and the late summer sun was bright, placing both members of the party in a jovial mood. Edith decided to take a drive along the bank. There was a narrow path wedged between a pretty woodland and a clear, shining lake, which ran into a large opening that was a rare place for a gallop. The couple happily trotted along, chatting brightly and taking pleasure in the sun.
"How fortunate the weather has turned out be so grand," Lord Hexham remarked lightly, his eyes latching onto a loose curl that escaped from Edith's bonnet. Seeing that it was distracting her, he leant across and tucked it back without thinking. Both blushed, and averted their gaze. He turned towards the woodlands and became seemingly fascinated with the trees.
Edith, meanwhile, peered over the lake, watching as the ducks paddled along. Her hands loosened on the reins and she shot Lord Hexham a quick, friendly smile, who smiled back. There was not much room on the front of the Phaeton, and so the couple was forced to sit rather close together. Edith could not help noticing how their arms seemed to brush against each other whenever the hit a bump in the road. However, one particularly large jolt not only brushed the two against each other, but threw Edith from her seat altogether and straight into the lake! Edith tried to splash desperately to stay afloat, but the sudden cold seized her entirely.
Lord Hexham did not even wait for the horses to stop before he ripped of his coat and dived in after her. Having learnt to swim in the moat at Brancaster, he was far more capable of staying afloat, and wrapped his arms around Edith's body and dragged her to shore. Upon reaching the lane, Lord Hexham placed his hands on Edith's waist and pushed her up, before clambering up after her. He lay a gentle hand on Edith's back as she choked and sobbed, giving her an opportunity to regain her breath.
He then lifted her up and carried her back to the Phaeton, where the horses were waiting obediently. As he carried her, Edith noted that the first time they were alone together she got wet. The next time he carried her. And now she was wet and he was carrying her. 'Must be nature's course,' she supposed.
Hexham then draped his discarded coat around her shoulders and pulled out a flagon of whisky from within, which he entreated her to drink. Having regained some composure, she gave him a watery smile and announced herself to be quite recovered. She then took up the whip and they trotted back to the house. By the time they had returned to the house, both were regarding the entire mishap as something of a joke, and were laughing brightly.
The Dowager Countess, who had just arrived for tea, was not laughing. Lord and Lady Grantham stepped out to welcome them both and regarded them with a great deal of surprise. Having heard the story, Cora went to bustle Edith inside and to her bedroom, whilst Robert thanked Lord Hexham for his assistance.
As Edith passed Violet, Violet took her arm and whispered into her ear "Do be careful my dear, or some will begin to think that you are not quite virtuous,"