"...The lover's whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad." -Homer

April 1920

I can't do this.

The moment Anthony entered the church, the reality of the situation quickly dawned on him, the words echoing over and over again in his mind.

He had tried, and failed, multiple times (since Christmas!) to push Edith away from thinking they could take up together again. But she had been so marvelously insistent, which did nothing to diminish his attraction to her. But more than that, she brought happiness back into his life and reinvigorated him. When he gave his final push at Robert's behest, declining Lady Grantham's dinner invitation, he thought that would be the bitter end of it all. But again, Edith's fortitude had won and he allowed his heart to yield. He finally admitted to himself that he never desired to be free of her again, asking her to be his wife in March. And for the past month, he had allowed himself to be blissfully, and incandescently, happy.

But now, as he sat waiting for the ceremony to begin, his nerves and doubts began to emerge once more (and not for reasons a groom would normally have on his wedding day). Oh how he wished they had married before the war, when his only shortcoming was their difference in age; before he was old and cripple.

"He looks as if he's waiting for a beating from the headmaster," said the Dowager Countess of Grantham to Mr. Travis as they chatted at a pew on the bride's side.

"Perhaps, the first Lady Strallan was a difficult act to follow," Mr. Travis responded.

"Or a difficult one to repeat."

Anthony pursed his lips and attempted to ignore their conversation, failing miserably. Soon enough, the unavoidable whispers of Britain's finest drama-starved country folk began to circulate behind him as well.

"An earl's daughter reduced to a nurse?" "Poor girl." "Lucky chap." "I heard Lord Grantham was quite against it." "Will he be able to produce an heir in his… state?"

Inevitably, Anthony began to recall the doubts presented by certain members of the Crawley family, as well as his own. Everything between the ambivalence of Robert's approval and the Countess Dowager's not-so-subtle pokes regarding his prowess, confronted him head on, weakening his resolve. His own self-pitying comments followed, which only served to soften the blow.

But not once had any source of doubt come from Edith's lips.

After she had happily accepted his proposal, Anthony sought her certainty one last time.

"Are you absolutely sure you won't wake up in ten years' time and wonder why you're tied to this crippled old codger?"

"Only if you keep talking like that," she had replied sweetly.

Although she had given a non-answer, it was enough for him; And any last smidgeon of resistance he held, seemingly vanished.

Perhaps his faith in her was too deep. Not that he thought her untrustworthy or unable to make her own decisions, certainly not. In fact, it's what he admired most about her: The way she stood by her decisions so passionately, always willing to fight for them. For him.

But by God, was she young. And clever. And so full of life. He had promised to do his level best to make her happy - but was he actually capable of doing so? Or would her life go to miserable waste? The odds always seemed against him, and he was not a gambling man.

The organ began abruptly, signaling the start of the ceremony. He stood stiff and somberly, a boxing match of reasoning still fighting in him.

I can't do this. I have to stop this.

He had half the mind to do just that once Edith arrived at his side. But when she did, his heart skipped. Her beauty halted any and all thoughts for a sweet moment as he took her in. There she stood, his willing bride; a vision in white, with a blush bright enough to seep through her delicate veil.

He could not help but smile.

"Good afternoon," she whispered, a trace of shy, dulcet laughter in her voice. When she peeked up at him with her rosy smile he felt his resilience crack.

"Good afternoon, my sweet one," he barely managed, his fears returning to him.

"I…" he said weakly.

Don't do this to her.

He had never been so torn in his life. Selfish happiness or selfless misery? Could he truly be happy if their relationship caused him such guilt? Or was he just afraid of being alone for the rest of his life?

Good God man, stop this! If only for her!

"I-"

Suddenly, he felt the softest brush of skin against his knuckles. A sigh escaped him as she shyly interlocked their fingers.

"I love you," she whispered, squeezing his fingers gently. He couldn't bear it.

"I love you, my dearest darling," he whispered back, the last chord of the organ sustaining, beginning to fade gently.

"Dearly beloved," Mr. Travis started. "We are gathered…"

Anthony briefly closed his eyes and cursed himself. It was too late.

Though somehow, part of him was glad.

Edith never felt such exhilaration.

Once the ceremony ended, the guests applauded and greeted the newly wedded couple with smiles as they walked out of the church arm-in-arm. Outside, the local villagers cheered as Anthony led them towards the decorated Rolls Royce. And every time she looked at her husband, she was gifted with his endearing half-smile and piercing blue eyes. They had done it! They were married. And she was a wife.

His wife.

They waved goodbye until they could no longer see the crowd at the church and again as they passed through the village. As the car turned onto the road leading to Downton Abbey, Edith wondered if she would ever get tired of smiling.

"I'm so terribly, terribly happy," she sighed, turning to her husband.

Anthony responded, this time, with a melancholy smile and her heart sank slightly. She placed her hand atop his. "Is something the matter?"

He brought her hand against his lips and pressed a gentle kiss onto her palm. "Oh, my dearest darling," he replied sadly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, worriedly.

"Please forgive me," he said, closing his eyes briefly. "There's something I need to get off my chest."

"What is it?"

He leaned forward to speak to his chauffeur, still holding Edith's hand in his. "Get us there as quickly as possible, please Morris."

The chauffeur nodded his acknowledgement and began to accelerate.

"Anthony," she said shakily. "You're scaring me."

"It would be best for us to speak privately when we arrive at Downton, so I can explain fully."

"A-are you unwell?"

"No, my darling," he said. "Nothing like that."

"Then-"

"Please Edith," he begged, kissing the top of her hand. "We'll be there soon enough."

She took a deep breath to calm herself and only nodded in response. He squeezed her hand assuredly but it did nothing to quell her anxiety. After only a moment, she probed him once more.

"I promise to give you a chance to explain," she started. He looked up at her, breaking free from his deep concentration. "But you must give me some sort of idea, or else I'll go mad with worry."

He looked back down at her hand, which was still in his, and squeezed it again before replying, acknowledging her request.

"I wish there was an easier way to say this," he said quietly, still looking down. "I nearly jilted you at the altar."

Edith's eyes widened and her breath stopped short. "What?"

"I wasn't going to go through with it," he confirmed. He looked at her then, with his striking blue eyes, which held such guilt. "But… I couldn't."

A tear managed to escape her eye and she wiped it away quickly, shoving down her hurt with it as best she could.

"Have you changed your mind then?" she asked sadly.

He paused for an uncomfortable length of time.

"No," he responded finally. "I don't wish to. But… There are some things I feel we should discuss further."

Her emotions began to spin out of control. A million questions began to race through her mind and she nearly regretted asking for more explanation. She opened her mouth to ask more of him, but calmly decided against it. He was right, they should discuss this privately.

"We should be able to talk alone in the library," she managed weakly.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you, please believe me."

Afraid she might say something rash, she simply nodded in response once more.

As soon as Downton Abbey came into view, Edith could feel her heart sinking lower and she could not help the silent tears that escaped. Anthony handed her his handkerchief.

"I've ruined today, I'm sorry," he said guiltily. "You deserve so much better."

"And who told you this?" she asked, unable to hold back. "Did someone say something before the ceremony? Has someone upset you?"

"No," he replied unconvincingly. "Not really-"

"Was it Granny?"

"No-"

"Papa then."

"No, no one. Not in those words," he paused. "Not in any words really, but no."

"Well I don't care what anyone says," she said, more childishly than she realized. "And neither should you!"

"I can't help it if I agree," he said sadly.

"Can't you?" she asked, as the car slowed.

Anthony opened his mouth to respond but stopped short. "I'll manage, Morris," he called out instead.

The car stopped and before the chauffeur could leave his seat, Anthony had already exited the vehicle, holding his hand out to Edith. After exiting safely, she gathered the fabric of her gown and, with larger strides than usual, Anthony led them to the entrance.

"Don't worry, we're early," he announced to a surprised footman as they entered the decorated entrance hall. "Lady Edith and I just need a few minutes for a private discussion."

"Of course, sir," he said nervously.

"Please let Mama know," Edith added. "And no need to delay, please start as planned when the guests arrive. We won't be long, I think."

The footman nodded and continued pouring glasses of champagne as they entered the library.

Anthony closed the door behind him and Edith walked towards the fireplace in the center of the room. He took a few steps forward, choosing to lean against one of the pillars, allowing her space to gather her thoughts.

"So is this about your arm, age, or some other trivial matter that should stop us from being married?" she asked bitterly. She knew her words had stung. But she was so tired of the same argument being thrown at her over and over again.

When she looked at him, his face filled with sadness, she immediately regretted her harshness. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I'm rather upset."

"Of course you are," he responded tenderly. "I'd be shocked if you weren't."

"Still, not an excuse for callousness," she added. He nodded appreciatively.

Edith took another deep breath, attempting to clear her mind. "So you nearly left me at the altar?" she prompted.

"I felt I should have," he said quietly. "Or at least stopped the ceremony before it began."

"Why?" she asked, struggling to keep her emotions at bay.

"I panicked," he said regretfully, sighing angrily at himself.

"But why are you telling me this?" she asked. "You said you didn't change your mind… or didn't want to, but-" She sat defeated on the red sofa. "I don't understand."

He approached her slowly and knelt in front of her.

"Because I want to be honest with you," he said, placing his hand atop hers, which rested at her knee. "I didn't want my reticent insecurities clouding the first day of our marriage."

She couldn't fault him for that. Though it did nothing to reduce the hurt she felt at his indecisiveness.

"We should have discussed this earlier, I know," he continued. "But we planned everything so quickly and I just… panicked."

"I rushed you," she said sadly. "I really didn't give you a chance to change your mind, did I?"

"I was delighted to see you so eager," he confessed, attempting to make her feel better. "Especially when you fought for me so gallantly."

"Is there hope for us yet, Anthony?" she asked.

"Edith," he said softly. "I just don't want you to throw your life away and waste yourself on me."

How many times had she heard this from her family? From him? She had lost count. But she had hoped that these thoughts had disappeared from his mind the moment he proposed. Now they've returned out of the blue, fighting her once more.

"Throw my life away?" she repeated. "Sybil marries the chauffeur and they are welcomed with open arms! Albeit not right away, but still! And Mary she-" Gets to do whatever she wants without consequence.

Edith scoffed softly, shaking her head, grateful she had stopped herself. She stood up once more before continuing.

"But when I want to marry the handsome, caring, and intellectual gentleman I love, I have to fight tooth and nail!" she said, tears welling up. "Why?"

"You know why," he replied, rising to his feet as well. "Because your family cares about your future. And so do I."

Swiftly, she turned to face him. "If you mention your age or wretched arm again-"

"But they are valid points of concern, Edith," he interrupted firmly.

"But it's my future!" she nearly cried, her hands now fists on his chest.

"It's mine too though, isn't it?" he said softly, holding one of her fists gently against him.

She knew she would regret looking at him in that instant, but she did, and his eyes weakened her. Filled with sorrow and glassy with unshed tears, she stood frozen, a mixture of anger and anguish herself.

"You have given me back my life," he said weakly. "But at the price of yours!"

"That's not true-"

"What if I can't make you happy? What if you start to resent me in the end?" he asked, tears rolling down his face. "I couldn't bear that."

"But I could never," she said, wiping away his tears with her free hand.

"How could you be so sure?" he asked. "Because I'm not willing to waste your life to find out."

She only managed to shake her head, her panic returning to her.

"Not when you could have so much more than this," he added.

"But I want you, Anthony!" she finally cried, her fists landing lightly again at his chest.

Perhaps it was true that Edith was simply keen to start her life as a married woman and not fall behind her sisters as she always had. And because of the war, almost every young man she grew up with had died, leaving her with even fewer options than before. But none of that mattered. Edith had lost her chance at happiness with Anthony (quite unfairly) before. And she was determined to never lose him again.

"You are everything I ever dreamed of in a husband. You are kind, gentle, patient… and nicer to me than most of my family!" she sniffled, holding back tears. "I'm constantly in want of your company and find myself always craving for your attention, because you never make me feel unintelligent or bothersome."

"Oh my dearest," he whispered, wiping away the tears on her cheek that went unnoticed.

"Why don't you want me?"

"My God," he said, shaking his head. "I have always wanted you, my sweet one. You mean everything to me."

"And every moment with you has been my happiest, Anthony," she whispered. "So you see, it would be nearly impossible for you to make me unhappy."

They both turned their heads towards the door as voices began to spill through from the hall outside. When she looked back up at him, she could see a flicker of hope in his eyes, looking at her as if discovering her for the first time.

"Edith," he said softly. "If you meant every word you said, please grant me this one request."

"Anything," she pleaded.

"I want you to think of every possible reason or doubt that could make our marriage unhappy. And I want you to think hard," he said, emphasizing the last sentence. "Then I want you to decide if any of those reasons apply to us."

She blinked and gave him a slightly confused look before he continued.

"Because if there exists any reason that casts even a shadow of a doubt in your mind regarding the happiness of our marriage, then we have no other choice but to be free of each other."

Edith opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted by his index finger, which now grazed atop her lips. She felt her blushes burning her cheeks.

"However!" he whispered, smiling slightly at her impatience.

"However," he repeated softly, his voice low. "If you cannot find a single plausible reason, then I will happily renounce every word of doubt that has ever crossed my lips, and do everything in my power to be the best husband that you deserve."

Realizing his finger had lingered at her lips, he lowered his hand and added, "I only ask that you are completely honest and absolutely sure."

Edith sighed happily, new tears pooling in her eyes. "Do you promise?"

"With all my heart."

There's nothing that could convince me otherwise, she wanted to say, ending it once and for all.

But out of respect for her husband's wise and humble request, she nodded instead, genuinely pondering for a moment, her hands now relaxed against his chest.

"You would never hurt me," she stated rather than asked.

"Never," he confirmed. "I'm not perfect, but I would never do so intentionally or maliciously."

"And we respect each other," she continued.

"Yes," he said softly, the crowd outside slowly multiplying in volume.

"And…"

Do you love me?

Anthony had echoed her confession at the altar, but it was entirely possible, she realized, that his response only sought to comfort her. She had always told herself (even before becoming acquainted with Anthony), that if her husband did not love her, she would be content knowing they at least liked each other enough to exchange pleasantries every once in a while.

But now? Now, she was not so sure. Now, the answer mattered. The happiness and success of their marriage, now depended on it.

"Do you…" She swallowed nervously, afraid of his unspoken answer. "Do you truly love me?"

He exhaled sharply, realizing he had held his breath. "Desperately," he confessed.

Edith let out a small sob of relief. "Oh, Anthony."

He closed the space between them, holding her in his arms. She allowed herself a small cry as he comforted her, rubbing the back of her neck softly with his fingers, his lips pressing against her curls. After a moment, he released her gently, kissing her tears, the sweet gesture only causing more tears to fall.

"Oh my darling," he whispered between kisses.

Once her tears subsided, he tilted her face, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She sighed and enjoyed the feeling before he released her once more, his eyes now filled with tenderness.

"I love you, Edith. I love your mind and your courage. You bring me hope, happiness, and everything good that comes with a second chance at love and marriage." She hiccuped softly before he continued. "When you're by my side, I feel I can accomplish anything. And now, when I think of my future, I do so in excitement instead of fear."

"There exists not one doubt in my mind," she said softly. "Not one, as long as you love me."

"You are sure?" he whispered gently, his lips hovering above hers.

"Yes."

Edith lifted her lips to his, kissing him firmly, slightly tasting their tears on his lips. Anthony shifted his fingers towards the back of her head, gently pulling her closer, and Edith could not suppress the hum of approval that rose from her throat as he shifted his angle, deepening the kiss. She gently pulled him closer as well, wrapping her arms around his neck, and risked a small taste with her tongue. He responded with a hum of his own and lapped softly against her. With sweet suction, he slowly pulled away.

"Christ," he whispered out of breath. She blushed, slightly pleased with herself.

Anthony lowered his head for another taste when suddenly a knock at the door flinched them apart. They looked over to find Lady Grantham, who began to clear her throat.

"We're quite ready for the toast now, you two," she said with a smile. "Don't want to keep your guests waiting."

"My apologies, Lady Grantham," Anthony managed with a slight bow of his head. "Completely my fault, we'll be there shortly."

Cora simply nodded, her smile unwavering, before closing the door.

They looked at each other bashfully, then began to laugh, their blushes spreading as quickly as their grins.

"There's no turning back now," he teased slightly, offering her his arm. "I pray you don't regret it."

"I could never," she said, placing her head against his shoulder as they began to walk. "Not when it is all I ever prayed for since that night at the concert, do you remember?"

"Oh, Edith," he said softly, turning to kiss her curls once more. "You are everything to me, and I promise to make you as happy as I possibly can. I'll do anything and everything, I swear it."

"As do I."