"Sir Michael, your ladyship."

Michael nodded to the butler and stepped into the Dowager Countess' tea room, a slight smile pulling on his lips as he looked about the place.

"Thank you, Spratt," Edith's grandmother said, motioning for Michael to take a seat. There was, indeed, a tea pot already set up, along with cups and a few scones but when Michael reached to pour the Dowager shook her head. "I will handle that. Spratt, if you wouldn't mind?"

The butler nodded and left them alone and at once Violet Crawley began to pour out the tea for them. Michael had been a touch surprised to receive her invitation, especially since it was only a day before the wedding and he figured she would have many things she'd rather be doing. He'd then wondered if this was some tradition amongst the Crawleys. Matthew had said no, that in his first life he'd never had such a meeting with Lady Grantham; Matthew also doubted she wanted Michael to look over some legal documents.

"Thank you for having me, Lady Grantham," Michael said politely.

The old woman waved him off. "We will soon be family, Sir Michael, there is no need for such pleasantries. This is not a gift but rather common courtesy."

"Well, my mother taught me that even the most basic thing, if given out of kindness, should be appreciated."

"A wise woman," the Dowager stated. She sipped her tea before the mood shifted and Michael at once knew they were getting into the heavier conversation. "You are not the man I imagined Edith being with."

"And who did you imagine her with?" he asked with a slight smile. At once he saw that the old woman had not expected him to go that route and she flinched at the comment. While it was said with all the politeness and kindness he could muster there was still an edge to his words that made her wince. Edith had told him all about her family, both in this life and the last, with her memories and without. He knew that the Crawleys, for the most part, tended to forget that she existed. In her first life this had led her to quiet despair and a drive to do anything to get their attention. In the current one, after Matthew's encouragement, it had led her to be bold and daring, freed from the fear of disappointment.

"Hmmm… someone of high standing," she said vaguely but Michael refused to allow her off the hook.

"Anyone specific?" he pressed. "I know that Mary was always meant for the heir… Patrick first and then thankfully a strong match with Matthew. Though we both now have seen that even if he weren't the heir she would only have him. As for Sybil I know that her mother tried to match her with several lords' heirs. The late Larry Gray, for one… I believe Lord Edgecombe's son…" He selected a scone from the platter. "But what of Edith?"

"You are already rather defensive of her, aren't you?" the Dowager said.

"Someone has to be," Michael said firmly. "I… well, I was going to say I mean no disrespect but that is a lie. When it comes to how you all constantly pushed her aside I mean all the disrespect in the world: You treated her unfairly and should be ashamed." He paused, sipping his tea and giving her a moment to defend herself but when she didn't say a word he continued on. "Mary was the first born. She was settled rather soon with Patrick and yet instead of turning your attention to Edith all of you continued to focus on her. Now… I have grown to care for Mary. She is to be my sister-in-law. But Edith is her better in so many ways and it was cruel to stomp down all she was in the name of the golden Crawley daughter."

"I never-"

But Michael had felt a fire growing in his belly and now there was nothing that could be done to put it out. "Edith is far more creative that Mary will ever be. She is smart… perhaps not in the biting wit that Mary has but her instincts are far better. She understands people more than Mary; more than one person has told me that Mary is much like you but based on the stories I have heard from Matthew's mother it is clear that Mary and Edith are you split down the middle. Mary got your sharp tongue and quick thinking… but Edith got your ability to understand people. Mary can alienate just as much as she can draw people in. She makes lifelong enemies rather easily. Edith on the other hand can charm anyone and it is hard to stay mad at her. She has a good sense for business and understands wealth far better than all the Crawleys that came before her.

"I am thankful that at the very least Edith had a few people in her corner. Matthew encouraged her and Sybil never sought out a rivalry. And her time in London has caused Mary to see the error of her ways and become a better person. Robert is… trying… but he still focuses too much on Mary and her thoughts and feelings while ignoring Edith or assuming that she will simply fall and line. As for her mother I have not missed the fact that she sometimes looks at Mary and wishes this was all for her. And now I come here and you open with insults because of my station. Let me assure you, Lady Grantham, that I love Edith. And while she loves you all and I will respect that… I will not be like the rest of the people in her life and idly ring my hands as you trample on her feelings."

"Good."

The Dowager smiled at him and Michael blinked before narrowing his eyes.

"You were hoping for that reaction."

"But of course," the old woman said pleasantly. "You are completely right, of course. We have mistreated Edith. Mary was always a difficult child, same with Sybil. Edith's only issues honestly came when she tried to not be herself and instead be like her sisters. Mimic Sybil's boundary pushing or Mary's need to attack everyone with a tongue that is more like a saber. It is easy to overlook someone when they the easiest of a wild bunch but that doesn't excuse what we have done.

"I said you were not who I expected Edith to be with. And while you are right that I never had something directly in mind I had an idea. Edith would be with a bland and pleasant man. Someone who refused to rock the boat, as the saying goes. Who was willing to duck his head and let everything go on and never fight. Who would round off Edith's own edges until she was a rather socially palatable woman. The kind that all invite to their dinner parties but not because they are interesting but rather to fill up a chair without causing drama."

She took a moment to take a bite of her scone, Michael letting her.

"Such a woman was quite common in the world. And there was nothing wrong with being that kind of wife and mother. I know it must seem odd to you, considering my own reputation, but I always understood that my own outspoken and determined ways closed doors to me that would have been open otherwise had I just taken a moment to still my tongue. I would never be allowed into the service of the Queen, for example.

"But the world has changed. I am not so blind to the shifting of our society to miss that. I might wish it not to change but that doesn't mean it is not. The time of the meek being able to have a true place in this world is over. Oh, there will be plenty of young women who choose to remain in such a role but they will no longer find themselves in marriages of equals and in a society that tolerates such things. The War… it has shown all that compliancy can no longer stand. One must be strong and determined and hold a great willpower. Edith cannot be weak. She cannot stand to the side or else she will find herself swept away by the tides of change."

The dowager grew quiet, contemplative.

"We have come upon a new era. Robert and Cora are the last of it… Matthew saw that and I am eternally thankful for his wisdom to push Downton forward but we can not rest. If we are all to do more than to survive… to actually thrive in this new age… we must be bold." She reached out and patted his hand. "You are good for Edith. You will allow her to be soft when she needs to be but will also push her to be strong and solid. To not fear change but rather be the one leading it. Mary and Matthew will always straddle the line… for all she has changed Mary still dreams of the past. Sybil… well, I think she will have many great successes but also bitter disappointments because she dreams far too big. Edith and you though?" She smiled. "You two will find the happy medium."

"That's why you asked me to come here," Michael said. "To ensure I understood that."

"Yes," the Dowager said. "And you did swimmingly."

They finished their tea and made their goodbyes. It had been pleasant after that, once they both understood where they were in their relationship. Michael thought that they had something of a strong base now on quick to build and he was interested in seeing what might come.

He had just left Edith's grandmother and made his way to the door when he was startled by Spratt, who hurried to him with some papers clutched in his hands.

"Sir Michael," the butler said, huffing a bit. "Might I… trouble you for a moment?"

"Yes?"

Spratt paused for a moment, it clear he was completely and utterly nervous. That made Michael all the more interested in what could be the problem and thus he didn't get frustrated when the man, rather than speaking took several moments to steady his nerves and calm himself. Nor did he speak up with the man began to speak only to catch himself at the last moment.

Finally though Spratt said, "I am ashamed to admit that I heard a bit of your conversation with her ladyship." Michael wasn't surprised by that; Tom had told him that servants tended to spy far more than their employers realized. While he wasn't as underhanded as Carlisle he did from time to time make use of servants with greedy ears to get information needed for stories. He knew Edith probably wouldn't approve but there were aspects of journalism that required such tactics. "She mentioned that the world was… in need of people being bold?"

Michael nodded. "She did."

That made the butler square his shoulders. "Then in the name of such boldness… would you be willing to look these over." He handed the papers to Michael… no, he more thrust them at him, like he was afraid if he waited a second longer Michael would take away his promise to look them over.

Raising an eyebrow Michael began to glance through the papers. They had been typed up, formatted rather well, but the contents were… odd… to say the least. It began with someone writing to a 'Miss Cassandra Jones' about an issue concerning their son's teacher complaining about the child's actions at school. Michael had a vague memory of a similar letter and after a moment realized he'd seen it in a rival paper, as part of the advice columns. But the answer… it was not what had been in the other paper. Instead 'Miss Jones', a spinster aunt with a sharp tongue, delivered withering comments with her advice that left Michael rubbing his mouth as a smile slowly blossomed on his face which was soon followed by guffs of laughter. The advice was utterly sound but the way it was delivered… it was biting and insulting but also so very proper. People would gasp at it and be scandalized.

Then would demand more.

He finally looked up at Spratt and took in his nervously glances and energized posture and realized exactly what he was reading.

"I think we might need to arrange a meeting to go over a contract… would you agree to that… Miss Jones?"

Spratt managed a nervous smile and a bob of his head.

~MC~MC~MC~

"No… no I don't like that either," Cora said with a sigh, shaking her head as she looked at the floral arrangements. They were trying to get ready for the wedding, which had become all the more complicated with them needing to do two vow renewal ceremonies, and it felt like even with all the help they had brought in for the wedding that there wasn't nearly enough hands to get everything done. At the moment she was looking over the sample piece for the floral arrangements that would be put out the next morning and was finding that it didn't look right. It was frustrating because she knew what she didn't want to see but she couldn't figure out what she wanted.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Tom said, walking over with a slight smile. "Remove the baby's breath."

The maid looked to Cora who nodded and the moment the sprigs of tiny flowers were removed Cora found herself beaming in delight. "Yes… yes that is exactly it! Put those in the guest rooms… I think they'll be better suited there." She turned and took Tom's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thank you. But how did you know…"

"One of the estates I worked at. There was a spinster aunt who was always complaining that people put too many flowers in floral arrangements. It overwhelms things. Sometimes less is more."

"Hmmm," Cora said, considering him carefully.

"Is something the matter."

"No no… merely humorous. I don't know if I should say." She began to touch up the arrangement; while it looked far better now she still felt a bit more could be done to make it utterly perfect.

"Well now you need to tell me," Tom said with a smile. "It would be rude not to say."

"Its just… I find it funny that you believe less is more but have chosen one of the most complex families to marry into."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Tom said. "I mean… yes, your family is far wealthier than my own but once you peel that away you can see that you are all like every other family."

"I don't know about that," Cora said, keeping her tone light. She didn't want Tom thinking she was putting on airs. "We are quite unusual."

"Don't let Robert hear you say that," Tom teased.

She smiled in agreement and motioned for him to follow her up the stairs, asking the maids to take the arrangement to the florist and inform them that was what she wanted. While much of the celebration after the wedding would be taking place downstairs that didn't mean that the upper floors would be empty there would be plenty of guests who decided to stay the night and she wanted to make sure everything was ready for them.

"You know I always wished we could have done something up here," she said. "I know that Robert and his mother would never want to greatly change Downton but I always thought it would have been lovely to remove some of the guest rooms and turn the space into a ballroom. We have everything in the main hall which is nice but it never felt proper not to have a place where people could dance." She smiled as she envisioned it. "Perhaps add on a single story and on top of it put a balcony so that on warm summer nights we could eat under the stars and then dance in the moonlight." She sighed, a long drawn out sound of melancholy as a dream was dismissed. "I suppose that won't happen now… I am far too old for balls and I think they are beginning to fall out of favor. We'd only use the room once every half decade. Still…" she let out a wistful sigh.

"It never hurts to consider such things," Tom said as they began to inspect the guest rooms. "Sometimes the only way small changes come about is by having big dreams."

"Yes… I do believe you are right." They stepped into one guest room and Cora did a quick check, happy to see the maids had dusted well. "But you are okay with this, Tom? With all of us?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Tom asked, staring at her with curiosity. "After all, I am the former chauffeur that is married a lord's daughter."

"Yes, of course," Cora said quickly before correct, "but I don't mean that are worried about you. I understand why you would feel that we might but… I am more concerned with what you are getting yourself into. I'm not quite sure you understand the full weight of joining the Crawley family."

"Some dinner parties, making polite conversation with people that still expect me to be in uniform… I can manage."

"That's not what I meant." Cora sighed, finally fully turning to face him and motioning for him to take a seat in one of the chairs by the window. Tom, bemused, did as requested and Cora settled down next to him. "I was not being glib when I said that we are an unusual family. All of the Lord Granthams before Robert had something that made them the talk of high society. The first Earl gained the title for services to the Crown, of course, but no one can honestly say what that work was. I asked Robert several times and he always grew rather quiet about it, saying it didn't matter. And the manner of his death… it was quite sudden and his son, who became the Second Heir, was away in France when he was called home but it is said he lingered." She shook her head. "There is a story there, Tom."

"I could look into it," he offered.

Cora blinked before smiling. Yes… of course the reporter wouldn't be able to resist the chance at a story. "Only if you wish. Honestly I have a feeling whatever you found out you'd be pressured not to reveal it." She glanced at the window. "And then there is the debate about the Robert's title."

"What do you mean?"

"Which Earl is Robert? Which number?"

"I… honestly can not say," Tom admitted. "I just knew he was the Earl of Grantham. I don't know how many came before him."

"That is because it is a rather tangled mess," Cora admitted. "The Third Earl nearly bankrupted Downton and it was only saved by his son marrying the only daughter of a Lord's second son who had been given quite a bit of wealth. However in order to secure the marriage the Third Earl, Alexander, had to agree to renounce his title and allow his son to be Lord Grantham."

"I wasn't aware a Lord could do that."

"It is very rare and the government must be involved but it can happen. Alexander stepped down and his son, Linus, became Earl. He however died young, which turned out to be a rather good thing as his spending habits nearly destroyed Downton once again, and his son, Victor, became Earl… and only held the title for three days before he was killed in the Hunt celebrating him taking the reins. Since he hadn't married the title went back to Alexander, who had by that point remarried and had two sons."

"Ah," Tom said, leaning back in his chair. "So do the son and grandson count in the line or are they footnotes of history and the Third Earl remains the Third Earl or is he now the Fifth and his new heir the Sixth?"

"Exactly," Cora said. "No one can agree. Robert has four times now received from the government a note stating that his position has changed… he goes from the 5th Earl to the 7th Earl and back again. It's gotten to the point that I requested that our letter heads merely state 'The Earl of Grantham'."

Tm smirked. "I suppose it could be worse and there could be a debate if it should not start over at One since the line was technically broken. That would make Robert the 3rd."

"Please don't evne joke about that!" Cora pleaded. The two shared a laugh before she continued on. "So the Third Earl, lived to 100; he actually outlived is son and his grandson, both heirs, and the Title fell to Robert's father, Patrick. He was a lover of the world and traveled often, to the point that there would go whole years where no one lived in Downton save for the staff. As such the village was rather neglected… that is why he paid for the hospital. He did not have his father's strength and endurance and died in middle age… leaving Robert."

"Yes," Tom said for there was no need to get into his scandals. All of high society would be discussing the Exile of the Crawley Girls for a century… mostly because Cora knew the girls wore their Exile not as a sin that must be hidden or a scarlet letter that brought shame but as a badge of honor. They had stood up to their father in the name of love, both romantic and familial, and they would never dip their heads because of that.

"I am his American wife. His sister defied her mother and married a businessman who died young and left her a rich but lonely woman who does as she pleases. His daughter married his heir but he is a lawyer and she is now a baker, Edith runs a newspaper, and Sybil… well, she is a spitfire and a nurse and sometimes I wonder if she isn't secretly a criminal plotting the downfall of our enemies."

"I don't see that last one," Tom said.

Cora merely shot him a look. "A mother knows. The point is Tom you are marrying into chaos… are you okay with that?"

He didn't even hesitate. "I am." He leaned forward. "The Bible says that in the beginning there was Darkness. But a priest once told me that isn't true… in the beginning there was chaos and God said 'let there be order'. He took the madness and began to structure it so that it would make sense. That is the thing about life… it is chaos, plain and simple. It is wild and maddening and you can never really understand it. But you try. You try and bring a bit of order to the world. So I don't see it as me plunging into the chaos that is the Crawley family… rather I hold that I am helping bring order to it all, in my own small way."

"…I rather like that," Cora admitted. "Of course you do realize you have doomed us all by taunting the fates."

"Well, we can deal witht aht when it comes."

~MC~MC~MC~

"Dickie?" Isobel called out and Richard looked up from the papers he'd been studying as the woman he had fallen in love with entered the room. Of course she didn't know that he loved her… he was too scared to admit that too her, in case he had read her actions as something other than the genuine kindness she seemed to show all. "There you are," she said with a smile as she walked over to his desk. "I was worried you'd completely forgotten about our train. We must make for the station soon if we are to reach Downton."

"Yes," he said with a slight smile, "Allen will mock me to no end if I am even a minute later than I should be."

But as he moved to rise Isobel swung around to stand beside his chair. "What is wrong?"

"Pardon?"

"You are concerned. Stressed. I can tell… your eyebrows twitch."

He reached up to touch his forehead, almost expecting to feel his eyebrows dancing a merry little jig. "I am…" He let out a sigh. "I finally heard back from…" He grimaced, hating how his tongue felt so fat and awkward and he couldn't just say the bloody words! But… this was utterly earth shattering. It was like when people had realized that the Earth went around the Sun rather than the other way around. Or that the planet was round rather than flat. One couldn't believe it yet they had to even as it meant changing everything they had ever known.

"What is it?" Isobel asked. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he finally said. "And I am not concerned about… what I have learned. Rather I am worried about how others will react."

"You're beginning to make me concerned, Dickie." Isobel bent down closer to him. "What is it?"

"The man Mr. Murray put me in touch with. He found my next closest relative. He found out who will be the next Lord Merton."

"…and they are a horrible choice?" Isobel asked.

"Not at all," Richard assured her. "In fact I think they will be a splendid choice… though I doubt he will think that. Or thank me for dumping all of this on him."

"What do you mean?"

He quietly slid the papers over to her and waited for Isobel to read them over. He watched her from the corner of his eye, seeing how her brow furrowed and her jaw worked before, ever so slowly, she realized what she was reading and what it meant.

"…oh," she whispered.

"Yes," Richard said.

"No, he would make a fine lord… but you are right. He won't be happy."

"It will make Allen taking up his seat look like a clean and dignified transition," Richard said with a dark chuckle. "This is chaos… plain and simple."

"We have to tell him though."

"Do we?" he asked only to wave her off. "Yes, I know, we have to. I just… not today. And not tomorrow either. We will meet with him later."

"He needs to know sooner rather than later."

"I don't want to ruin the wedding. Afterwards… afterwards we'll talk. Him… and we'll gather others."

Isobel shook her head. "And just when I thought life was getting simple again."