Anna paced about the room, calling upon every relaxation technique she knew of. She pulled in several slow breaths, held, then let loose a long slow exhale. She focused on her heartbeat and willed it to slow. She mentally screamed everything she wanted to say but would not. She ran her hands along her gray dress, feeling the texture of the fabric and using that to ground herself.
"I have faced worse than you," she said firmly. "I stitched Lady Sybil into a corset and helped Lady Edith try on 10 different dresses with only 30 minutes before the gong. I stood in for Miss O'Brien when she got the flu five years ago and managed somehow to dress all the girls and her Ladyship… and did it on time. I even removed Lady Mary's shoe after it got lodge in her…" she pulled a face, "I don't even want to talk about it. So you will not beat me… I want you to understand that! You will not be the hill that breaks me!"
She looked over at the changing table and watched as Noah wiggled his little legs, freeing himself of one of his socks which he happily kicked away.
Anna hung her head in defeat.
"Is everything okay?" John asked as he entered the room, looking first to her and then the baby who was focused on trying to shove his own foot into his mouth. "Ah." He walked over and gathered his son up, the baby gurgling before resting his head on John's shoulder and letting out a content little sigh, drifting to sleep within moments. "Maybe you could try now?" he offered.
"No luck," Anna said, shaking her head. "I actually tried that last night. This morning I found one sock on the floor and the other… well, I still don't know what happened to the other one."
"He could have eaten it," John suggested, leaning down over the crib and gently settling Noah down. "Did you do that little man?" he whispered. "Did you eat your sock when mama wasn't looking? Is that why you are taking an extra nap?"
Anna huffed at that. "honestly I'm ready to believe that."
John followed her out of the nursery, shutting the door behind them though Anna didn't know why they bothered; the Grantham Arms wasn't exactly the quietest place in the village and yet Noah had never once been awoken by any of their patrons.
"Can you afford to be up here?" Anna asked suddenly, realizing that even with it being past noon there would still be people wanting a bite to eat. Even with the war the Grantham Arms was doing steady business these days, with people moving in and out to get food and drink or to simply find a way out of the cold. With John's leg the way it was the cold could cause it to ache and thus some of the first heavy work the Bates family had done once they took control of the hotel/pub was better insulate it against the chilling English winters. Thus The Arms were known to be one of the warmest places in the area during the frigid months, with Mrs. Hughes even once commenting that it was better than the Abbey in keeping the strong drafts away. This meant that there seemed to always be people moving about the hotel and even more so now with the construction crews sneaking down to get lunch from anywhere between 10am to 3pm. Then there was the standard evening supper crowd and those that wanted a drink after a hard day of work…
"I have Lang watching things. The men aren't drinking too heavily, now with the warning they all got that Matthew and Sybil would be here today, so he has the time."
"Do you think we should go back to calling them Mr. Crawley and Lady Sybil? Or would it be Matron Crawley?" Anna asked.
John though pulled a face. "Do you think Mary will let you go back to calling any of them by such honorifics."
"Good point. I might slip and call her 'milday' and then I'll be in for an hour of her explaining how we are now on the same level." While one might have thought that the exiled daughter of the Earl of Grantham would try to cling to any shreds of her station that she could,Mary had once more proven that no one could ever expect to predict how she would behave, choosing instead to utterly embrace her new life as the wife of a middle class lawyer. There were times where Anna got the sense that reminders of the woman she had once been, before she'd met Matthew, caused Mary physical pain. "Are you sure Henry is up for that?" Anna asked as John began to make an early check of the rooms; it never hurt to make sure everything was in place, with those rooms being rented out in order while the empty ones were ready for a surprise guest to arrive at the last moment. "You know how he gets…"
"I do but this is the best way for him to readjust," John said with a compassionate smile and a hint of steel in his voice.
"I just worry."
"And I love you for worrying but believe me the last thing Lang wants is to be coddled. He has said so himself hasn't he?"
He had. Often and with nearly as polite firmness as John tended to use when someone questioned him about his leg giving him trouble. Never with a hint of rudeness but a stubborn pride that he did not want to surrender. "I know. But I have been around men like that-" she shot him a look, "-enough to know that sometimes what they say and what they actually need are not the same thing."
"He will be fine," John repeated, peaking into one room and nodding his head when he saw the bed made up proper by the last gent who had rented the room before he'd left an hour earlier; it still amazed Anna, even after years of service, how thoroughly destroyed a bed could become if one did not care about its state. A guest who actually took the time to fix the sheets and make sure things were in order was a blessing. "This is the slow part of the afternoon and he knows we are right up here. And Mrs. Lester and Imogen are nearby if anything happens."
"…are you truly trusting the safety of our livelihood and Henry's sanity to Imogen being able to assist him?" Anna asked.
John grimaced a bit at that. "Mrs. Lester then."
Anna shook her head at that, letting her silence speak louder than any scolding she could give her husband. It was an old fight between by now: how much to protect Henry Lang and how much to allow him his freedom to sink or swim on his own.
Henry had come to them thanks to Isobel Crawley. Lance Corporal Henry Lang had been discharged from the Army after a rather vicious attack during the Battle of the Somme had taken out half his unit, including all the men that had been stationed in his foxhole. John had gone to the General to find out more and learned that Henry had been found buried under the bodies of his mates, still as a corpse himself. In fact it had only been because he'd blinked that the nurses had realized that he was still alive. He'd been taken out and due to the shell shock as well as the, according to John, 'trauma suffered while serving his nation' been discharged. It was an honorable discharge, not because of anything Henry had done wrong, but some would see it as shameful, feeling that he had faked his mental trauma to cover for his own cowardice.
'Which is rubbish,' Anna thought. 'One only needs to spend a few minutes with him to see that he is no coward… he merely suffered from things no man ever should! Especially one that never wanted to be a soldier!' Henry hadn't been like most others who'd volunteered because they wanted fame or an adventure. He had enlisted because the man he'd been valet too, Sir Douglas Marcher, had enlisted for those reasons and Henry had gone with him out of loyalty. 'And now Sir Douglas is dead and Henry is scarred for life with wounds none can physically see.'
Henry had been sent to London and come under Isobel's care and when it had become clear that he wouldn't be staying at the hospital for long she had began to seek out some other way to help him. She'd sought out a few people who might need a valet but most men were either serving on the Continent or had no need for a new servant. Henry had apparently told her he would be willing to go back to being a Hall Boy, if needed, but Isobel had had none of that. Anna honestly believed that if his lordship and the London Crawleys had had a better relationship Isobel would have sought out Lord Grantham and asked him to take on Lang. Instead Isobel had come to the Grantham Arms, planning to see if Lord Merton could help (The General had suggested his old friend as a better person than him to make contact with the upper class) when John had suggested they hire on Henry.
"We need more help," he'd pointed out to Anna when she'd questioned spending such money on a new employee. "With Downton become a convalescence home we are going to see more people passing through. Not the soldiers of course, as they will stay at the abbey, but what of their families? Their mothers and fathers? Their wives and children? These will be men of rank, officers, and that means more than a few will come from wealthy homes which can afford to travel and visit them. We are already seeing business grow." After a few moments he had quietly added, "I don't want to miss Noah's childhood because I'm pouring drinks."
Thus after a few interviews Henry had been hired to man their bar. He'd needed some training but honestly neither John or of course Anna had known much about drinks other than that Mr. Carson spent a lot of time pouring wines through cloth. But Henry had been eager to learn and thankfully the tastes of the Villagers were simple enough. Some beers, occasionally a glass of cheap wine, a bottle of scotch if they felt like throwing their money around.
'And he's been a stabilizing factor,' Anna thought to herself as they checked over the last room and went one last time to make sure Noah was fine. 'Imogen goes to him when someone is being too forward with her and ever since he showed up Mrs. Lester's suitors have stopped hanging about so much. And he's teaching Peter quite a bit while also getting him to understand that he shouldn't be looking forward to coming of age and going off the fight.'
His lordship and Mr. Carson had agreed to give Henry a wonderful rental deal on a small cottage; truthfully no one wanted to live there as it was seen as being too far away from anything but for Henry it had been perfect. He'd confessed to Anna that noises at night made him jumpy and thus being able to be all by himself and not have to deal with being woken up by the milkman or a farmer making an early start of things was a blessing. John had also quietly told her it was quite likely Henry suffered from night terrors and that it would have embarrassed him to have people in the village hear him scream. She hoped John was wrong… she just wanted Henry to have a normal life.
"Do you think everything is going okay up at the Abbey?" Anna asked as they entered one room and quietly began to fluff up the pillow; less because they needed such treatment and more that they needed to do something physical while they talked. It was a habit of all servants, Anna had decided. Years of hard work where a moment's pause was frowned upon by a Head Housekeeper or a Butler (or honestly anyone who wasn't able to take a moment to breathe themselves) meant that if one wanted to talk they needed to find something to do, even if it wasn't actual work that had to be done.
"I imagine if it hadn't they'd already be back here," John said. "His Lor...Robert-" Anna's face twisted; it was still so very odd to hear John call his lordship by his given name, "-is genuine in wanting to make amends. He isn't plotting something sinister."
"Of course not," Anna said quickly. "But you must admit something he doesn't consider how others might see his actions."
John nodded at that.
Coming down stairs she swept her eyes over the main room. A few men from the village were having a late meal but otherwise things were quiet. Henry looked up from the glasses he was polishing and nodded.
"Everything well down here," John stated. He made sure not to word it as a question, so that Henry didn't think he was doubting his ability to watch the door.
"Rather quiet, sir," Henry said just as the front door opened and the chime dinged. Anna opened her mouth but John took her hand and gave it a squeeze, shaking his head and nodding towards Henry who looked up at the new arrivals. "Welcome to the Grantham Arms, sir. What can I do for you?"
"Is Mr. John Bates in?" one of the men said as he hung his coat up and removed his hat, the second man choosing not to, his eyes sweeping over the room. Anna couldn't help but stare… he was dressed like a cowboy! Coat, hat, even the boots!
"I am John Bates." Anna followed after her husband as he limped over to the men
"Ogden Smith," the first man stated, offering his hand. He was as tall as John but thinner, with skin around his cheeks that sagged a touch but now in the jowl-y way like Mr. Carson. No, it was more like someone who had taken to limiting his meals. Because he certainly wasn't gaunt, not with the way he was built. Strong and he knew it. He had the accent of someone who had grown up in London and while he may have worn a decent suit no one would mistake him for a lord. His beard was neatly trimmed but the lighter hair on top of his head was a touch wild, with a few strands poking out stubbornly.
His companion was even more striking. He wore a cowboy hat on his head and a long dark coat over his dark suit. He even sported a bolo tie! But there was nothing rough or rugged about his clothing, for they were of far finer material than Mr. Smith's clothes and while the likes of Mr. Carson might have at first been horrified by the man's apparel he would have soon accepted that he at least wasn't lacking for coin. That wasn't to say that the man was soft. He was taller than John by a good 2 inches and his face was weather-beaten. He'd shaved but from the slight tan-line Anna was willing to wager every penny she had he was far used to sporting a shadow of whiskers on his cheeks. Long blond hair was pulled back and tied, so that it didn't droop and fall into his eyes.
"Elmer Morris," he said with the lazy charming drawl of an American cowboy straight out of a picture show. "Ya'll wouldn't mind if we sat someplace private, would ya?"
John and Anna shared a look before motioning for the two strangers to follow them to their office. While technically it was John's office her husband had been clear that they owned the Grantham Arms together and thus everything within the office was her's as well. It had been startling to think about, for she was used to only Mr. Carson having an office and yet there she was with one of her own, but she had accepted and made a point to actually use it; Anna refused to merely have something in name only and not put it to good use.
Once they were settled Mr. Smith spoke. "You'll forgive me for not supplying my title sooner, but I didn't want to get rumors floating about and cause you any more trouble than we're already bringing to you. I'm with the Security Service out of the Home Department."
"The government?" John asked, surprised. "Does this concern the war? Because if I missed something, a draft notice-"
Mr. Morris waved him off. "No no… you were discharged with honors, Mr. Bates, and we know with your leg you wouldn't be fit for service. Besides, with what you went through it is the least the army can do to leave you be." He smiled and Anna could sense the man was being genuine, which put her mind at ease. She had feared for some time that the British Government would run out of able young bodies to throw at the Germans and would try and drag John to the Front. "It is… well, actually it is those troubles I hinted at that has brought us here today."
"Vera," Anna said. "You found her."
"You are a quick one, Mrs. Bates," Mr. Morris stated with a smile. "Yes. Ogden here is my employer's contact with the British government and you know that there have been many in the English Military that have been interested in catching the former Mrs. Bates, now Ms. Vera O'Malley."
"I'm sorry but… who is your employer?" John asked.
Mr. Morris smiled. "I'm with the Pinkertons, Mr. Bates." Anna's eyes widened at that; she remembered John telling her that some agency had been contracted out to find his former spouse but she hadn't realized it was the Pinkertons! "In fact," Mr. Morris continued, "I happen to be the man that found ol' Vera."
"You found her?" John said in surprise.
"I do mostly office work now for the Pinkertons but occasionally, if a case is proving difficult, they send me out of the office to handle it. With Ms. O'Malley… well, she was as slippery as an eel and as dangerous as a cornered rattler."
"Yes, that certainly sounds like Vera," John muttered.
"Where did you find her?" Anna asked.
"The Tex-Arkana border," Mr. Morris stated, leaning back in his chair. "And that was only the last time. I almost had her in Oklahoma but missed her by a day and no one could give me a straight answer which way she rode off in. Lost the trail for a month then tracked her to outside of Killeen, Texas but she'd promised some cattle rustlers money if they waylaid me. Or told them I had their money… I honestly can't remember and by the time I was done shooting there weren't any folks to get confirmation."
"Elmer, you do remember we're in England, right?" Mr. Smith said dryly.
"Right, sorry ma'am, didn't mean to offend."
"You haven't," Anna stated. "But you did catch her?"
"I did and alive though I was worried I wouldn't. I've gone after enough criminals in my youth to know that some of them decide they don't like 4 feet of iron holding them in so chose an inch long piece in the brain instead." Anna's eyes widened at that but she said nothing. Frankly she wasn't for sure if she'd have preferred Vera to go out that way or not. "She'd never actually gotten a look at me though she had a vague idea what my face was like so I had to get a bit clever. Managed to secure some vestments from a troupe of actors that were performing a play in the nearby town. Dressed in the part then paid a farm hand to give me a few good hits. A few in the gut, one to bust my lip open."
"My word," Anna whispered.
"Elmer…" Mr. Smith warned.
Mr. Morris though just continued on. "I rolled around in the dirt to make myself really look pathetic and then limped into her camp, claiming my wagon had been jumped. Didn't give her too long to decide if she believed me though; I shot her one companion in the leg and then took her at gunpoint. Had them tie each other up and the next day led them back to civilization."
"That… is some story," John stated. He leaned forward. "What was Vera doing out there?"
"What she was doing here in England that got her in our crosshairs to begin with: thievin' and taken advantage of folk." He leaned forward and tapped the desk with his index finger. "Everything from sellin' junk land grants to claimin' to be an heiress so that some oil baron would let her mooch off him and his family for a few weeks before she skedadled out of the area before they asked her to pay back the food she'd eaten… and with the wife's jewelry in her back pocket. When I finally caught her she was runnin' a scam usin' Fool's Gold to claim she'd found a mine and just needed investors."
"What a vile woman," Anna complained.
John could only nod. "I knew she could be cruel but I didn't believe she would go so far. I thought that I…" he trailed off and Anna reached over and patted his hand. "You are here for more than to just let us know you caught her, aren't you?"
"We are," Mr. Smith said. "You see, when she was caught she had a man with her."
"The one you shot," John stated, Mr. Morris smirking and nodding. "What about him?
"When I captured her she tried to feed me a sob story about how she wasn't to blame, that she was an innocent and a woman and she could never do such things. It was her male companion that was at fault." Mr. Morris huffed. "That may have worked here but in America we know that women can be just as evil as men. After all, we hung a woman for aiding Booth after Lincoln was killed and didn't fall for her tale of woe. And Vera O'Malley has a darker soul than that woman."
"The thing of it is," Mr. Smith said, "Your former wife maintains her story that it is the gentlemen that is the true criminal mastermind. In fact according to her all her crimes were the work of this man and she was an abused victim that had been falsely charged."
"Both she and the man claim he is John Bates."
Anna and John both started at that.
"You can't think-" Anna began only for Mr. Morris to hold up a hand.
"It is a lie, Mrs. Bates, I know that. Ignorin' the fact that I can plainly see Mr. Bates sitting before me and he looks nothin' like the rascal I shot I know for a fact that the day I captured them two both of you were eatin' supper with General Allen Lothrop and Brigadier Neil Waterton. And unless the two of ya have discovered magic-"
"Which if you have the Security Service would have questions for you," Mr. Smith jested.
"-then it is a lie, plain and true." He paused and chuckled. "Though her companion does have a limp now, though it is in the wrong leg."
John laughed lightly at that before sobering. "I still don't understand though. Why such a ruse? And a poor one at that? To get back at me by dragging my name in the mud? She knows it can't work."
"She's doing it because she has found herself in hot water that she didn't even realize was there and now is in greater danger," Mr. Smith stated. "The false Mr. John Bates is believed by us and the American Government to be Mr. Jupp Van Wullenhuse."
"…a spy?" Anna whispered.
Mr. Morris nodded. "A clever one. I said it before and I'll say it again. You are quick and clever, Mrs. Bates."
"How bad is it?" John asked.
"Bad enough," Mr. Smith stated. "Even if she didn't tell him a thing she worked with a spy on foreign soil. And we have reason to believe that she aided him in at least one attempt to get information to the Germans. They were spotted near a military base in Texas… which one was it?" He gestured at Morris who merely shrugged. "Right, doesn't really matter, the point is that was helping the enemy."
"It's not going to be good for her and she knows that."
"That is why we came to you," Mr. Smith said. "The Americans are taking care of Jupp. At best he'll end up in a prison and possibly be traded from some of their own men that were captured. At worst..." he trailed off but Anna knew exactly what happened to spies. Traitors too. "Vera O'Malley is a different situation. By all rights the Americans could see her hang but they've decided in the name of good will and brotherhood to turn her over to us, since she is a British citizen." He paused and flashed a sardonic little smile. "Between the four of us I get the sense they want nothing to do with her and are passing her onto us brits to deal with.
"When she arrives there is going to be a trial. There has to be, even with everything we have on her. The Pinkertons are getting witness statements from the Americans she wronged but to really hammer home what kind of creature she is we need an Englishman she's wronged to take the stand."
"Me," John said. "You should know... I was a different man when I was married to Vera." He squeezed Anna's hand. "One I pray is dead and gone because I could not stand for that brute to harm my family."
"And I'm sure her lawyer will bring that up. But framing a decorated military man with theft of the regimental silver that she herself took?" Mr. Smith shook his head. "No, Mr. Bates, I'm afraid anything her lawyers try to bait you with simply won't sway anyone. Especially when it comes out that she all but stole your name and identity and gave it to a German Spy."
"We don't have to worry about any backlash from that, do we?" Anna asked. "People mistaking John for the spy-"
"Like I said, only thing they have in common is the limp and it's not on the right side," Mr. Morris stated.
"If anything," Mr. Smith added, "you are likely to get some sympathy from the masses. Tell your story to the right newspaper and people will weep for you."
John considered that. "We could contact Lady Edith..." He suddenly narrowed his eyes. "But you already knew about her, didn't you?"
Rather than answer the two men merely shared identical smirks.
"Where is Vera now?" John finally asked when neither of them would say anything else on the matter of the papers.
"Still in America," Mr. Morris said and for the first time since he'd begun talking to them his tone wasn't smooth and pleasant. No, there was an undercurrent of frustration in his words, making it clear that he didn't like one bit where Vera was.
"Is that normal?" Anna asked. "For the person who captured a criminal to be separated from them before they are turned over?"
"Technically she has been turned over to the authorities in New York," Mr. Morris said. After a moment he finally let out a huff and said, "But no, I'm not happy about it if that is what you are askin'. My superiors feel they have her locked up tight and I've even included my own little insurance… but Vera O'Malley is a slippery one and already she is planning on how to escape. Still, it is my job to make sure everything is settled on this end… and if I happen to look into a few cases the Pinkertons are interested in collectin' a bounty on, what's the harm?"
Mr. Smith reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "We are going to be remaining in London for the time being, waiting for Vera's arrival. Once she has been secured and a trial date is set we'll be contacting you. We want to showcase what kind of woman she is… to show you off, if you'll pardon. In fact the man you were actually plays well into our plans… we want to show that before her you were a good soldier and after you pulled yourself from her influence you became the valet to the Earl of Grantham, married a good and honest woman, and now are a respected member of your community. Vera merely brings corruption wherever she goes; that is what we wish to show."
The two men rose. "And if you should happen to need us…" Mr. Morris said, not bothering to finish before the two of them left the room. Good manners dictated that they should have walked them to the door and made proper goodbyes but Anna found herself unable to move from her chair, the gravity of all she had just heard feeling like a great stone upon her, pressing her down into her chair. The two looked at each other, John opening his mouth only to slowly shut it, unable to think of anything else to say.
She didn't blame him.
It only added to the surrealness of the situation when Noah's missing sock promptly plopped down onto the desk, Anna and John slowly looking up before deciding silently that neither wanted to question that.
