Main Entrance, Downton Abbey, February 1914
Martha Levinson arrived in style and was greeted accordingly by the assembled family, men to join said family, and the full line of servants. She emerged from a luxurious car like a queen, all mass of red hair, white furs, and plum feathers topping her enormous hat.
Edith thought a bit wistfully that she wished she had half of her sheer presence.
She hadn't actually seen her in person for four years, since Martha had been to England for Mary's presentation and her coming out ball. She hadn't come for Edith's the next year, claiming other obligations on her time – a given, thought Edith sourly – but admittedly she'd sent her middle granddaughter a beautiful jewellery set to go with her presentation gown. And at least now she deemed Edith's wedding important enough to face the winter crossing of the Atlantic, something which Edith knew Martha despised with a passion.
"Edith!" she welcomed her now, offering her an air kiss on the cheek. "Wouldn't have thought you would be the first to marry – but I'm very satisfied to be wrong on that account. Maybe you're finally growing out of your shell."
"I hope so, Grandmama," Edith managed to say, but Martha already abandoned her for Sybil, standing next in line.
She peered nervously at Martha's introduction to Anthony, but it turned out to be an unnecessary one. Despite many years having passed and the slightness of their acquaintance, Martha remembered him very well.
"I still barely believe that you managed to sweep my granddaughter off her feet," she said cordially enough. "But I remember that your wife was always extraordinarily fond of you, so you can't be wholly bad."
"I assure you that I will do everything in my power to make Lady Edith happy," said Anthony seriously and Edith's heart sang at the loving look he sent her right after.
Martha, sharp-eyed as always, noticed it as well and her wry smile took a gentler turn.
"See that you do," she said only before allowing Robert to introduce her to Matthew and Isobel. "She deserves nothing less."
Drawing Room, Downton Abbey, February 1914
"Mary, dear, I never took you for a romantic," commented Martha with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "To throw yourself at a man without being assured of his future title and possessions! How positively unexpected of you."
Mary gave her an unimpressed look in response. It was evidently too much to hope that her grandmother would be done after the afternoon exhibition. At least she was considerate enough to wait with raising this particular topic till Matthew's absence from the room. Thank God for small mercies.
"I'd hardly call myself a romantic," answered Mary calmly. "I simply consider marrying Matthew as the best bet to ensure my future happiness – with or without title. Although the title and Downton would be nice."
"As would your mother's fortune, undoubtedly," noted Martha and took a long sip of her sherry, observing Mary with evident curiosity. "But to think that you may consider yourself satisfied with a man who has nothing to offer you but himself and a middle class life in London – well, you may colour me shocked."
"Upper middle class," answered Mary with a sharp smile and shrugged. "Besides, Matthew may not have much to offer at present, but I have full faith he will surprise you as well in time – he's incredibly clever."
"I hope for your sake that you're right," said Martha and Mary noted with some surprise that she sounded mostly sincere. The mocking edge was definitely less pronounced than in Aunt Rosamund's tone during a similar conversation. "I can't be sorry that with how the matters stand now, your mother's fortune is going to be either yours or your brother's. I've always hated the thought of it going to a stranger and as nice as your cousin had been, I couldn't stand this smug father of his. But it'd be mightily entertaining if after all the fuss your husband ends up making a fortune of his own instead. You know, people were turning their noses at me marrying your grandfather," she smiled unpleasantly at the recollection as Mary leaned in with interest. She never heard much about her Levinson grandparents' marriage – granted, she was never much interested in what she considered rather shameful relations – and she found herself more sympathetic now. "He was Jewish, of course, and that was bad enough – the fuss they made about it, even though Isidore saw the inside of a synagogue maybe five times in his life! Not one to observe shabbat, your grandfather, always preferred to go to his factory instead – but he was also poorer than me when we married. He used my money to expand his business, to the last cent, but it paid off enough to make most of the naysayers eat their words. Then they had to bow to him and ask him for favours, even if it galled them all to do so – and it galled them a lot."
She leaned back against the sofa with a smug satisfaction of coming on top of this old feud, looking undignified but comfortable. Mary, sitting with her back perfectly straight, bit back the instantaneous criticism which she hadn't hesitated to voice as a child.
"It's all nonsense, the way you British cling to the class and titles here," continued Martha, snorting slightly with derision. "Isidore was the one who wanted Cora to marry into aristocracy – wanted it as the acknowledgment of our new status in New York, it used to be quite a cup to have a daughter with a title and some rumbling castle – but then he was ambitious like that. I'm not unhappy with the results, your mother is clearly happy with the bargain and that is what counts the most in the end, but the way you all cling desperately to the past is simply ridiculous. The world is going forward and America is at the front of it. If you end up with a brother after all, tell your husband to come with you to New York instead. He may find more opportunities there, if he's as clever as you say he is. Harold wouldn't hire him for being his niece's husband alone, but he wouldn't mind opening some doors for him if he has the brains to use them wisely," she looked at Mary mockingly. "Unless, of course, your opinion of America and New York hasn't improved since you were twelve."
Mary swallowed her immediate horror at the thought of emigration to the most vulgar place she had ever visited and allowed herself to consider it seriously instead.
Her memories of New York and America, while horrid, were memories of a child. A homesick child who was feeling utterly out of place. She admitted to herself that there was a chance her impressions as an adult might be different. Besides… As shocking as it was, Grandmama's proposal was not without unexpected merits.
If Mama had a son, Mary and Matthew would be relegated to the status of poor relations. Even if Matthew prospered in his career beyond all expectations, unless he earned a title of his own, they would never be full members of the circles Mary had grown up in and considered her own. But in New York… In New York they would be the closest relatives of the fabulously rich Levinsons and with Uncle Harold's help Matthew would have a real chance at a fortune of his own. Mary's title as a daughter of an earl would give her much recognition and prestige in what passes for the best social circles there too. It also didn't escape her attention that despite being in his forties, Uncle Harold had no heir to his business empire. Matthew was so likeable… It surely wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Uncle Harold would grow as fond of him as everyone at Downton had.
And nobody there would know or care about the rumours surrounding Mary's name in London.
She would miss Downton desperately – there was no possible way she wouldn't – but if she was forced to lose it anyway, maybe putting a little distance between herself and Matthew and England wouldn't be the worst decision they could make.
"We will consider it," said Mary seriously, inwardly rejoicing at a surprised look on her unflappable grandmother's face.
"My," said Martha, looking at her with interest, "you have changed."
Edith's bedroom, Downton Abbey, February 1914
Edith was reading in bed when her mother surprised her with asking if she could join her for a moment.
"Certainly!" she said, putting her book away. "What is it, mama?"
Cora shuffled closer to Edith's bed, looking so awkward and hesitant that Edith got instantly alarmed.
"Mama?" she asked anxiously. "Has something bad happened?"
"No!" exclaimed Cora immediately, sitting by Edith at the bed and reaching out to pet her cheek. "Not at all, darling. I simply need to talk with you."
She blushed at Edith's confused look and appeared to take a deep breath to brace herself.
"I probably should have raised the topic sooner," she muttered, more to herself than to her daughter, "but it's so hard!"
"What is?" asked Edith hesitantly.
Cora exhaled audibly.
"Marital relations," she managed to get out. "What happens between husband and wife after they are married. When they share a bed."
"Oh!" exclaimed Edith, feeling her own cheeks heating up instantly. "That!"
"Yes, that," confirmed Cora then looked at her in surprise. "What do you know about it?"
"Not much," answered Edith honestly. "But I've heard some things… from married friends."
She was not going to throw Kitty to the wolves. She rather suspected Cora wouldn't be happy to know what kind of matters she was educating Edith on.
Cora looked too relieved to interrogate Edith on her sources.
"Thank God," she said. "I managed to bring up at least you as I should."
Edith allowed the allusion to Mary fly over her head. Betraying her knowledge of the whole affair to her mother was the very last thing she wanted to do.
"What have you wanted to tell me?" she asked instead.
Cora took another deep breath.
"First of all, I wanted to assure you that when two people love each other like you and Anthony do, the whole thing is…" she trailed off and blushed even more, "a terrific fun. So if you heard any scary stories, please disregard them. I'm sure Anthony will take good care of you on your wedding night."
Edith felt her eyes grow wide.
"I… I heard it was rather pleasant," she mumbled, dropping her eyes to her lap where her hands were busy wringing each other. "But it's good to know it's true."
"It is," confirmed Cora firmly, looking away from Edith but clearly determined to say her part. "It can be painful the first time – it was a little for me – but with the love and concern of your husband it should be fleeting and shouldn't occur much again. What you should know though is that there is no shame between husband and wife. In fact, I'm sure he would like it if you didn't just allow his caresses, but if you returned them. Show him how much you treasure him too."
Edith nodded. It… it shouldn't be too much of a problem, she thought. She wanted to kiss Anthony back when he was kissing her and she knew that he liked it when she was showing him affection.
"It is a necessary part of marriage and the way to have children," Cora ploughed on. "And it brings a loving couple closer."
Which was all very well, but Edith couldn't help to notice that while her mother was very reassuring, she still didn't say anything useful.
"Mama," she asked, gathering her courage. "What actually happens then?"
Cora gaped at her.
"You said you know!" she protested feebly, visibly upset at the prospect of elaborating.
"I heard some things," said Edith stubbornly. "But I would like to know if they are accurate."
After all, what Eloise told Kitty might have been just something her husband liked to do. It sounded so scandalous. What if Edith tried to copy her behaviour only to horrify Anthony by behaving like a shameless hussy?
Cora's hands fluttered anxiously but she nodded with a sigh.
"When a husband and wife are together… well, they share a bed," she said hastily, still avoiding Edith's expectant eyes. "And they are affectionate with each other."
She fell silent and Edith's frustration overcame her embarrassment enough to state her questions bluntly.
"Without clothes?"
Cora gaped at her for a moment, but finally nodded.
Edith's head reeled. With this part confirmed, the rest of Kitty's second-hand knowledge was more believable.
"And… the rest that follows… it's the reason for men and women being built… differently?"
"Yes," said Cora torturously, closing her eyes briefly.
"And the bodies… fit together?"
"Yes," groaned Cora miserably. "They fit together very well."
Edith frowned thoughtfully. All of Kitty's thankfully much more detailed explanation appeared to be legitimate, mind boggling as it was. She still couldn't fathom that she and Anthony would actually do something like that tomorrow… But both Eloise and Mama insisted it was both expected and pleasant. Anthony was always so gentle with her. She had no reason to fear what was coming, however strange it was.
"Thank you, Mama," she said sincerely, letting a hugely relieved Cora off the hook. "It was truly reassuring."
Lady Edith's Bedroom, Downton Abbey, February 1914
Edith looked at herself in the mirror and barely managed to hold in a gasp.
She was in a wedding dress and a veil. She was a bride. In less than two hours, she was going to be a wife. Lady Edith Strallan.
"You look so beautiful, my sweet girl," said Cora, her voice thick with tears, and her eyes shining with genuine pride. Edith basked in it, her own throat getting tight with emotion.
She looked at her mirror image again and had to agree with her mother. She did look beautiful on the morning of her wedding day. Her gown, made by Lucille, fitted her like a glove and highlighted her slim figure to its best advantage. Anna did wonders with her hair, arranging it in most becoming waves and pinning the priceless Belgian lace veil to it. But Edith thought that the biggest change came from the happiness glowing on her face and in her eyes. There could be no doubt in anyone that Lady Edith Crawley was walking to the altar as a picture of a bride on the brink of happiness.
"You truly do look pretty today," said Mary unexpectedly from her side. She sounded sincere enough, and when Edith turned towards her with wide eyes at the wholly extraordinary compliment from her older sister, she smiled wryly. "For once you chose a gown very well. Anthony will be speechless when he sees you."
"As he should!" agreed Sybil before Edith could think of anything to say to Mary. "You look amazing, darling! Like a blooming rose."
"Thank you all," whispered Edith, feeling how much she loves them all, even Mary. They were her family – and from today onwards, she would be living apart from them for the very first time. She would run her own household and visit Downton only as a guest. It was hard to wrap her head around it.
She hardly heard the good luck wishes from her sisters, but she clung to Cora briefly when she gave her hers.
"My first chick to leave the nest," whispered Cora, embracing her tightly but with great care not to crush her silk dress. "You will make a wonderful wife and mother – I simply know you will. You've always been such a good girl. I'm so happy for you, but I don't know how I will stand missing you. Thank God you will live so near. I would hate to have you far from me."
"Me too, Mama," said Edith through the tightness in her throat. "You will help me if I don't know what to do, won't you?"
"Of course, my darling. Of course. But you will do better than you think. My sweet, smart girl."
Edith hugged her once more before she straightened, blinking her tears away and reaching for her bouquet with a smile. She was ready for her life to begin.
She was so very happy.
St Michael and All Saints Church, February 1914
Anthony couldn't deny being nervous as he stood at the front of the church, waiting for his bride to arrive. It seemed incomprehensible that, mere months after starting getting to know Edith properly, she was to become his wife today. Surely there was something wrong with the picture of such a bright, lovely creature tying herself to someone so much older and lacklustre like him. He wondered what Maud would have said about all this. He felt reasonably sure that she would want him to be happy – she always was a good person like that – but he felt strongly that she would tease him for searching for her replacement in a nursery.
Then the music sounded, the guests all turned towards the church's door, and Edith walked in, led by her father.
All thoughts of cradle robbing flew out of Anthony's head.
There was no doubt in his mind that the beaming bride walking proudly towards him was a woman – and a woman very happy to be exactly where she was. The way she looked at him, the way her smile, already so bright, widened at the sight of him… This sweetest, loveliest woman loved him and wanted all the guests gathered around them to know it too. Anthony didn't know how he got so lucky, he had no idea what he'd ever done to deserve it, but he felt every bit of his luck in that precious moment when he took Edith's hand in his and led her to the altar to make her his wife.
He was the luckiest chap in the world.
Master Bedroom, Loxley, February 1914
Lady Edith Strallan was sitting in front of her new vanity, brushing her hair and telling herself there was no need to be nervous.
There was no need to brush her hair either – her new lady's maid, Murray, had already brushed it into glossy perfection, after helping Edith to take off her clothes and dress into very becoming silk nightgown adorned with ribbons and lace – but Edith found she had to do something with her hands or she would end up biting her perfectly made nails.
Anthony would be coming into the bedroom any moment now.
Edith was not afraid of him – she couldn't imagine ever being afraid of him – but she dearly wished it was tomorrow already and the whole ordeal of the wedding night was behind her. It was the unknown she feared. Surely, after it all already happened, she could be calm and reassured and happy. She didn't think anything which would take place soon would be bad, after all – but it was so very strange, so unlike anything she knew. She hated the anticipation of something monumental looming over her.
She wished Anthony came in already. Surely he would know how to put her at ease and get those silly fears out of her head.
xxx
To be perfectly honest, Anthony was suffering from a very bad case of nerves himself. He'd dismissed his valet already long ago and there was rationally no reason for him to hide in his dressing room instead of joining his new wife, but… As much as he hated it, he had to admit he was terrified.
He was terrified of scaring or hurting her.
It had been easier, with Maud. He was quite terrified then too, but well… He had as little idea what to do as she and Maud was always fearless and able to put him at ease with a teasing smile and a joke. They had figured it all out, together, and their bed had remained full of laughter and companionship until the very end of Maud's illness. But now… Now Anthony couldn't escape the thought of how big a leap it must be for Edith to go from a few mostly chaste kisses they exchanged to being a wife. He didn't want to hurt her – he would never forgive himself if he did – or scare her in any way – and he didn't know how to avoid doing either. She would look to him for guidance, he knew it, and of course he would be as gentle with her as he possibly could… But he couldn't get rid of his fear that he would mess it up in some catastrophic way.
At last, he took a deep breath and crossed the room to reach their bedroom's door. Hiding in here was not going to solve anything. He needed to face his wife. He loved her so much and he knew she loved him. It was going to be alright. They would figure it out too.
But God, was he terrified.
xxx
Edith startled at the sound of the door knob turning and jumped up from the vanity stool. Anthony finally came to join her.
It took her but a moment to realise that he was as nervous as she was, if not more. It filled her with strange confidence to realise that it was unknown territory for him too. Of course, he'd been married to Maud for twenty years, but he was as newly married to her as she was to him.
The realisation gave her enough courage to smile genuinely at him.
"Hello," she said, happy to see how even just a smile from her made his taut features relax minutely. "I'm glad to see you. I've been thinking of going to bed, but I was afraid I'd fall asleep before you came. It was such a long, emotional day, I admit I'm shattered."
He smiled a bit sheepishly.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, my sweet one," he came over to her, looking hesitant. "If you're so tired, we may go straight to sleep. There… there is nothing we have to do tonight."
Edith's whole being recoiled in horror at the prospect of more of this tortuous waiting for the unknown hanging over her head.
"I don't want to sleep yet," she said hastily. "I… I would like you to kiss me first," she was blushing scarlet, she was sure, but she ploughed along. "I was looking forward to kissing you as a wife for a long time."
She barely dared to look him straight into eyes, but through her lowered eyelashes she could see how dark they were becoming, his pupils huge and intense. She saw men looking at Mary like that and she felt a thrill at the thought that he must want her.
"I was looking forward to that and more too, so much," he said and reached to caress her face delicately. Edith leaned into his palm. He hesitated again. "Edith… if you want to take it slow, kissing is all we can do tonight. I can wait as long as you need."
She blushed brighter but made herself look at him properly. She didn't want him to have any doubts.
"I don't want to wait," she said firmly. "You're my husband, Anthony – I want to learn what it truly means."
He swallowed, his eyes darkening further as he leaned to kiss her. This kiss was different than any of their previous ones – more intimate, purposeful. Hungry. Edith felt herself shiver from it, but not in an unpleasant way. She was taut like the string of a bow. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, but she knew, she was sure, that she wanted to feel more of it.
She was both hyper aware of what followed that kiss and she found it hazy, dreamlike. She could hardly say how she and Anthony moved to their bed – their bed! – or when he lost his robe or the shirt of his pyjamas. His kisses moved from her lips to her neck and lower, his hands caressing places on her body which had never been touched by anyone but her – and it was getting harder and harder to think at all.
"May I see you, my sweet one?" he whispered, looking at her carefully to see if she truly gave him permission, and Edith, dizzy with want, even if she was unsure what it was she wanted, blushed scarlet and nodded, kissing him in additional reassurance.
She still barely restrained herself from covering herself with a blanket when he carefully took her pretty silk nightgown off her. Her blush reached all the way down her neck to her breasts – a body part she herself barely ever looked at – but seeing Anthony's eyes on her, the clear rapture on his face, was feeling Edith with confidence she'd rarely experienced before.
It was so obvious he found her beautiful like that. Desirable. Alluring.
She basked in it, his admiration. It was making her feel powerful, confident, beautiful. She wanted him to look at her if that was the way he saw her. She wanted to be seen like that.
When he touched what he uncovered to his eyes, Edith could not stop herself from gasping.
If this felt so wonderful – if such simple caresses of his hands on her could make her feel like this – then she had no reason to fear what was to follow, however strange it sounded to her when she had first had it described to her. She opened her eyes – when did she even close them? – and looked at Anthony.
"I love you," she whispered, daring to caress him too and smiling in triumph when she saw bliss on his face in response. "I'm so happy to be your wife."
"Oh, my sweet one," he said and she saw tears in his eyes, but she didn't think they were out of sadness – the love shining in them was much too bright. "You made me the happiest man in the world."
xxx
Edith woke up first and for a long moment was confused where she was. It took the realisation that there was a man sleeping soundly next to her, his arm hugging him loosely to himself, to remind her that she was married now and sharing a bed with her husband. Her eyes widened a little when the memories of last night came flooding in.
She sat up slowly, careful to avoid waking up Anthony as she looked at his dear, handsome face. He looked so relaxed and at peace when he was asleep. She reached shyly to trace the shape of his mouth, following it with skimming her fingers across his cheek to pet his hair lightly. The fondness feeling her now was so overwhelming that she nearly cried. Dear Anthony. Her husband. How lucky she was that she picked him in that silly bet with Mary. To be rewarded for such pettiness with love of such a wonderful, kind man… She knew how little she deserved it but didn't plan to dwell on it much today. This was the first day of her married life and they would be leaving for Italy soon. All regrets, jealousies and petty troubles of Lady Edith Crawley were behind her and not worth wasting time on.
She was Lady Edith Strallan now and Lady Strallan was so very happy.