Edith was a young lady now. Her golden red hair was always expected to be pinned up and her hands always covered by gloves. Each meal was a test of etiquette as she was at last graciously allowed to join the adults at the dreadful occasion of dinner. She was constantly monitored for where she went, when, and with whom. Each day was a toil of dress changes and remarks to remember to be a lady. Each day Mama, Granny, or Mary would comment or bemoan about her poor future prospects as a lady who didn't match the standard. Each day she was pushed to try harder, be better. Each day she felt the reality of this world tightening around her throat like a vice.
When Mary had turned sixteen and was invited to partake in family dinners, she was thrilled. She sat at the table with a sense of pride and smirked happily to a beaming Patrick. She belonged in this world. She was its protagonist, the star of the show.
When Edith turned sixteen, she did not feel the same. She felt nothing but sick and nervous and scared. It wasn't fear of failing. By nature she did that anyway, but she had long ago put great effort into memorizing all Mama's lessons on table manners. Instead, it was fear of the future she thought she knew. Sitting in her place at the table, looking around at the room she knew all too well from many dramatic scenes, she had no idea how her presence as an intruder would affect this world, these people.
The family noticed her ever increasing nerves. Even Granny, who had taken to spending time with her occasionally now that she was older, noticed her discomfort and assumed it was because of her natural shyness. Mary sassed that it was probably due to her discomfort seeing her and Patrick so close. Sybil thought it was due to the confinements and discomforts of being a lady. Papa suggested it was because of the pressure the older women in the family placed on her, and added that they might back off a bit. Mama refused to do so because she believed Edith's nerve came from the same place as her own, fear of Edith's first season as a debutant.
Edith hadn't even considered what being a debutant would mean until Downton burst into a frenzy of ribbon, cloth, and lace as Mama and Mary meticulously planned her wardrobe for the 1909 season. Mary would turn eighteen that January, and she was thrilled to officially be able to join the parties, hunting trips, and balls she so adored.
That year, everyone wanted to speak to Mary. Mama smiled proudly as she talked about how her dancing card was never empty of suitors bewitched by her beauty and charm. Papa grumbled that a few men had even asked for her hand. Every girl had seethed in jealousy, and Mary was honest enough to admit she liked that just as well as she liked the praise and admiration. It was a hard return to Downton that July, and Mary was even less joyful when Mama began to prepare for Edith's debut the next year.
Mama was even more displeased than Mary was. Only a year between her daughters' seasons? It just wasn't enough time to be properly prepared. She only gave herself a week to rest after their return from London before diving into the hopeless task of creating a wardrobe that would allow her second daughter to shine as bright as her first.
Edith wasn't wound nearly as tight as either of them was about it. The original Edith had gotten through this without another life's worth of experience so she would be fine, and she wasn't nearly as desperate to find a husband either. That was a problem for after season four, at least, if at all. Her real struggle was trying to keep her wardrobe from turning into a disaster.
Edith had not, like Mama had hoped, grown into a Gibson girl, but it was much better than she feared by modern standards at least. She was tall for Victorian standards, a towering five eight, and was too lanky and boyish for the decade's taste. However, she considered herself willowy and decently endowed. At least it would allow her to wear the styles of the twenties better which were much more preferred to the clothes Mama wanted her to wear.
Edith didn't know if it was a conscious choice, but Mama seemed to have an agenda to keep her as muted and one toned as possible. One would think pink and orange and floral would make her more visible, but the dusty, faded tones and repetitive, dim patterns Mama selected had the opposite effect. It made her look like a little girl and matronly all at once, and did nothing to bring out the glory that was her hair. It was the one trait Edith was supremely proud of. Although, she supposed that was the point. Victorians seemed to have a hatred for red hair. She could only hope the Edwardian times were better for her.
At least the more questionable fashion decisions made in the first few seasons seemed to have been original Edith's so she was able to avoid them in favor of more bold, twenties esk fashion. It shocked her mother and the dressmakers, but they were able to compromise on a number of sleek, jewel tones gowns with different asian and middle eastern motifs. The more androgynous styles would have to wait until she had the control to truly dress herself, but, with how her Mama was looking at her, it probably wouldn't be until the twenties were already here.
Clothes weren't the only battle. Edith absolutely refused to style her hair in the same way as the show. It was too pretty to look like it did in the early seasons. Instead, she had all but forced their maid to style it in as close an approximation of the hairstyles in the later seasons as she could manage, except it was a decent amount longer. It was practically scandalous for 1910 and more resembled a fifties glam style than any from this era, but it suited her face much more. It was also the primary reason for Mama's recent headaches.
The other concern was the fact that Edith had taken to lining the outer edges of her eyes with her charcoal art pencils. It did a remarkable job making her eyes stand out and relieving the pinched look, but it didn't stop Granny's comparisons to a painted, or rather penciled, lady. It was with those penciled eyes, but sadly not the wavy hair, that Edith found herself gliding down a long aisle, white feather fan in hand.
"The Countess of Grantham presenting her daughter, the Lady Edith Crawley," the caller announced to the room.
In a shining white gown and glittering train, Edith glided as gracefully as she could to curtsy before the Queen. In that moment, she could almost forget the blatant dismissal in many eyes or the raised eyebrows at the hair that hung closer to her shoulder than her ears. For that one moment, bowing before royalty, she felt like a princess. Papa was proud and Mama was that and severely relieved when they left the room with an approving nod from her majesty. Now that the coming-out ceremony was over, the season would begin.
Of course, Edith's first season was Mary's second as the first ball of the season quickly showed. Even in her bright gown of emerald green and unique hairstyle, her face lacked the power to drive men mad that Mary held. Those that were looking for wealth instead of beauty or love weren't very interested in her either. She was the second daughter with a respectable but not extravagant dowry and did not stand to inherit anything. Mary had Edith beaten in both beauty and value, a fact she knew well, as she smirked and swirled away in her pomegranate colored evening gown.
Some of the only men who offered to dance the first few dances with Edith were Patrick and a few of his friends from boarding school. They were good young men who had heard many good things from Patrick about her, but nothing more than pleasant conversation came from the few dances. Clearly, Edith was not going to find her one true love tonight. As planned, Edith turned her sights away from the eligible young men flocking around Mary and the couple of other beauties and tried to befriend the other more ordinary looking young women.
It was clear immediately that Mary had not spread goodwill and friendship last time she was in London. Most girls were suspicious and hostile, only letting her in their circle if she admitted to Mary's faults in some way. Some even refused her when she did not openly denounce her sister. But eventually she found a group of girls willing to judge her based of her own merit and joined their chatter about gowns and jewelry and gossip and popular fiction.
"I didn't know you read books like that, Edie," Patrick commented when he brought her a glass of champagne. She didn't in this life. That didn't mean she hadn't read The Rosary, A Gentleman at Leisure, or anything by Jane Austen in her last. If only she could tell her parents, not Mama and Papa but her other parents, that her English degree had finally turned out to be useful for something.
However welcoming the pocket of young women was though, they weren't the most stimulating companions. To be fair, none of them were particularly focused on the conversation. Most were staring at the eligible bachelors with longing, frustration, or sadness. They were quick to leave if a man indicated interest which did not create an environment that fostered deep conversations. Edith found if she talked too passionately about any literary work she would soon be met with a sea of confused faces and a diminishing circle of female companions. However, with every woman who left, a man would take her place.
Far from the twenty year old suitors that floated around Mary and the others, Edith found herself surrounded by a crowd of thirty and forty year old gentlemen, some chaperones and others older bachelors. None would be deemed a particularly good match, but all were interested in her analysis and ideas.
It was liberating to be among people of her own mental age even if physically she was at least a decade younger than most of them. Clearly, many of them found her ideas of politics, art, and the future to be nothing but amusing, but others seemed to forget her age and gender and debate with her in earnest. It was invigorating.
Mama was clearly mortified as she watched her usually reserved daughter become so outspoken as she debated everything from women's right to vote to the nature of the classics with many men. Several times Mama asked if perhaps she had a partner lined up on her dance card. She didn't, of course. That ended an hour or two into the evening, but a couple of the older gentlemen were happy enough to take her for a turn and Mama let her be. It was clear to everyone as the first ball came to an end and they returned to their London lodgings, that Edith was not going to be the belle of the ball that Mary was.
Just as the year before, Mary shone like a diamond as she twirled about the ballroom, but a diamond on a chain. It wasn't official, but everyone clearly noticed Patrick always had her arm, always had the first dance, always accompanied her to races and plays and parties. It was the only thing that was a deterrent to suitors, a balm to rivals' pride, and a knife to Mary's heart.
As the months passed by, Edith was frequently pestered to confirm or deny the rumors, since Mary outright refused to do so, but she refused as well.
Edith saw the way the topic would cause Mary to become hard and cold, snapping at whoever asked. It was clearly a hard topic for the very sought after girl. It was clearly hard to be tied to someone she did not want or love.
After months of horse races, boat races, parties, lunches, dinners, balls, and calling cards, they all returned to Downton Abbey shortly before her eighteenth birthday. Sybil greeted them with the biggest hugs and tried to shake a promise out of Edith that she would never participate in a season without her again. If it wasn't for Mama and Papa, Edith would have agreed.
Mary and Mama were equally gloomy upon their return. Mama was more worried than ever over her daughter's complete lack of possible suitors and future prospects. Meanwhile, Mary was frustrated over the number of eligible gentlemen who had asked for her hand. It was even more than the year prior, and Patrick's innocent statement that it was a shame they couldn't announce anything to save the hassle only caused more conflict.
Watching Mary storm up the stairs, leaving a confused and hurt Patrick, Edith questioned what actions she should or even could take. Another year and another season passed and the situation was still the same. Clearly, Mary and Patrick were destined for failure and heartbreak. It was already in that process, but, even if unhappy, Mary was doing what she was supposed to. She was doing what she believed would help the family. For once, Mary would not say no. She was bound to this as long as it was possible which left Edith with one option. She had to convince Patrick not to marry her.