Edith had spent the last month in complete denial. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was going to go wrong. Everything was perfect. Everyone loved Matthew. Well, not everyone, but progress was being made in that direction. Changes she had wanted for years were happening for the estate, and preparations for Sybil's first season in the spring were coming along well. Nothing at all was wrong. She hadn't heard the name Pamuk in her whole life. Unfortunately, those words would only be comforting if she had only lived one life. Instead, she was stuck throwing herself into her last life's real world history to avoid the fictional drama. So while the rest of Downton continued to fuss over Matthew and Mary, who was heir and who should marry whom, Edith was writing about Albania.
The Balkan Wars were not something she remembered from her schooling beyond where they were fought, a vague notion that Turkey was involved, and that there were two of them by name. The rich, historical truth of it was much more complicated. Edith ravenously read every scrap of information she could from books and articles, and managed to write several articles of her own as Edward Crow both informing the English public on the history of the conflict and touting the need for Albanian independence. A sentiment Edith was glad to see many Englishmen shared, although most with much less fervor.
Last month, Edward Crow was again extolled as a modern prophet when his predictions of war became true. Not that Edith considered that to be at all special. Honestly, did these people only skim history books? Since when does an empire allow a piece of itself independence without a fight. Still, the public was firmly in her pocket which meant more money could be as well.
The Times was beginning to make offers. More money, more articles, a fixed opinion column, if only "he" were to publish under his true name or at least would meet in person. Journalists don't like secrets they can't sell, and clearly the mystery, while good for sales, was nothing compared to a titled gentlemen writing for them. Not that Edith could hope to give in to their bargaining even if she wanted too. Despite her lack of feminine charms, she highly doubted a false mustache and change of clothes would get her by an interview with the Times without discovery. And, while it would shock the nation, she doubted her year-long career as a columnist would survive the reveal of her gender. So for now, she told them no and prayed the day wouldn't come too soon when they chose to use a stick over a carrot. Still, even with all the stress Edward Crow brought her, it was better than the stresses in Edith Crawley's own life.
Mary's letters with Evelyn Napier had been revealed to Cora who jumped at the opportunity. A hunting party was swiftly arranged, and the whole house was soon abuzz at the idea of another suitor for the fair lady's hand. Even though the name Pamuk hadn't been spoken nor would it be for some time, Edith did her best to avoid all conversations about the coming hunt and the house in general if she could. That was one reason she found herself taking tea with Cousin Isobel more often than she ever believed she would, and Isobel always welcomed her gladly.
"How is your work at the hospital going, Cousin Isobel?" Edith asked, taking a sip of her tea. It was peppermint with too much sugar to be medically advisable. Perfect.
"Please dear, just Isobel will do between us," Isobel smiled. "It's going alright. Dr. Clarkson is slow to come around, but clever. I think he has just been under your grandmother for too long."
"Something I'm sure you will try your best to rectify. Just try not to go too fast. People around here don't take that too kindly, and there is plenty you still don't know about our way of life."
"Yes, well, while country life has its charms, I'm sure he'll come around in time." Isobel stubbornly dismissed. Edith didn't bother to push. Goodness knows the Dowager would knock her down a few times trying to get that through. "How is your work coming along?"
"My work?" Edith said. "Well, the local charities are going well. Some ramp up for Christmas while others slow down, but all are well and have no glaring needs at present."
"And that's good. I would love to hear about it, but I was actually talking about your estate work. Matthew was telling me about it. He talks about you pretty regularly. But I would love to hear about it from you."
"Oh, he does?" Edith was surprised. Isobel smiled and nodded, pouring her second cup of tea. "I- well, Father doesn't usually let me get too involved with decisions, but Matthew seems to be trying to change that. At least he tries to share his information."
"You two speak regularly about this?"
"Occasionally, when he comes to speak to Father. Most of the time it's just the two of them, but I try to put forth my solutions when I bring tenant problems forward from my rounds. Recently I've been hoping to… strike out on my own."
"In what way?"
"The Carters are having issues. I believe you would know him. Mr. Carter is often at the hospital, and so is his youngest daughter."
"Ah, yes, little Amelia." Isobel nodded in recognition.
"He is getting older, and only has three young daughters and a wife to help him. So I've been trying to find a solution, especially if his arthritis keeps getting worse."
"I don't quite see what you can do unless you plan to dabble in medicine, but I wish you luck. Anything I can do to help? Or Matthew?"
"No, no, I am still figuring out if my plan is even feasible, but if it works, it will be a good thing for the Carters. And the estate as a whole," Edith smiled with more confidence then she felt. She hoped it would be good for them at least. It couldn't hurt to get a jumpstart on this plan in any case. "Where is Matthew today? Shouldn't he be home?"
"He told me he was taking a later train today. Apparently, a farmer wanted to make a will that split his sheep to his children by color of wool, and the last law firm he went to let him do it. So now Matthew had to figure it out and explain it to the poor man."
Edith burst into laughter, nearly snorting her peppermint tea. "Ha, I am so sorry. I know that must be an awful day, but that is one of the best things I have heard in a while."
"My reaction was similar. So was his until he realized it was his problem. He expected a long day, but he should be home soon."
"Would you rather me leave before he returns then?"
"No, no, Matthew will want to see you, but you could do one thing for him."
"What?"
"Offer to take him around the estate again. He has mentioned how much he enjoyed going on your last round with you, and that he wants to see some of the local churches, architecture and the like. It would cheer him up immensely if you offered."
"Well, I-"
"Good afterrnoon, Mother," Matthew suddenly said as he strolled into the room, nodding to the butler as he let him hang his coat and hat. "Thank you, Molesley. Oh, and Edith. It is good to see you. What's the word from the big house?"
"The same as always I'm afraid. You know of the plans for the hunting party this weekend. Not quite to my taste, but Father is thrilled and the house is abuzz."
"Yes, it's not quite to my tastes either. I'm glad I can avoid the whole affair," Matthew said as he came to sit on the sofa. Edith felt her neck snap to look at him.
"You can't-"
"Edith and I were just talking about a potential tour of more of the village. I know you want to see the churches in the area," Isobel announced, looking between the two of them.
"Yes, I do. I want to know more about the county generally if I'm to live here," Matthew agreed. "If you have the time, I would love to use you as a tour guide again. Perhaps we could make a day of it this weekend?"
"No!" Edith said. Matthew's face closed off and Isobel slumped slightly in her chair. As quickly as she could, Edith went on."Well, yes, I would love to do that. I could show you some of the nearest ones over a day, but we can't do it this weekend."
"Of course, I'm sure you have plans," Matthew said.
"It's not just that I have plans, you should have plans too. Matthew, are you really not planning on going to the hunting party?"
"No? Like I've said, it's not to my taste. Mother and I will be at dinner as usual, but I won't be participating in the hunt."
"You must!" Edith cried. "Forgive me, but it would be a serious mistake for you not to attend the hunt."
"Why?" Isobel asked.
"Because all the local nobility will be attending. None of them would pass up a hunt. It's when most of the men get together and talk to one another. To not attend your first hunt since being here by choice would cause a stir."
"Well, maybe I want to cause a stir."
"If that's the case, you would go and shock them all with your middle class mouthiness as you do Mary," Edith said dryly. "No, you must go. No impression is worse than a bad one, and it could take years for you to recover those relations."
"Maybe you should listen to Edith, Matthew," Isobel said gently.
"I- ugh, if you think it best, I'll trust you," Matthew huffed in distaste.
"Thank you."
"But only if you take part as well. I won't be the only one miserable if I must take part in this affair."
Edith felt her face pale as she swallowed down the instant refusal on her tongue. She didn't usually like these gatherings anyway, with the riding and hunting and boastful men. But Matthew would be lost without her. But Pamuk would be there. But…
"I'll go," Edith swallowed. "But you will follow my lead. I don't want you insulting a lord or inciting a duel over a lady by mistake."
"Is that a possibility?"
"I'm sure you would find a way."
Back at the house, Edith ordered Anna to get her hunting attire together. Several pieces were borrowed from Mary as Edith herself hunted so infrequently, but for Matthew's sake she had to do it.
The whole house seemed startled by Edith's sudden desire to hunt. Anna hesitantly obeyed, and Ms. Hughes muttered in her Scottish accent about young women and their whims. Even Thomas raised an eyebrow asking in his dry, surprisingly friendly tone if she was hunting a fox or a husband. Let them speculate, she knew the unfortunate truth. She was hunting for Matthew's sake, nothing more.
"You don't think you're being a bit obvious?" Mary snipped as Anna tightened her corset. Why was she always the last to get ready? Always ensuring her appearance was perfect, even among family.
"I'd hardly call it obvious if no one seems to guess my true intention," Edith said, adjusting her long golden waves in the mirror. "I'm just looking out for Matthew. Can't have him destroy his reputation before he even has one."
"Yes, middle class and a humdrum recluse. Quite a reputation that's only mostly true."
A gentle knock came at the door and Cora slipped in beaming at a letter clutched in hand. Edith knew that letter. If she could set it on fire, she would. "There was a letter from Mr. Napier in the evening post."
"Mn, Did he accept?" Mary asked confidently, slipping on her silver gown with Anna's silent help.
"Not yet," Cora said. "Apparently he's bringing a friend with him, an attaché at the Turkish Embassy, a Mr.-" Cora paused to look at the letter, "Kemal Pamuk. He's a son of one of the sultan's ministers and he is here for the Albanian talks."
"What's that?" Mary asked.
"The peace negotiations over the Albanian people's right to form their own independent state. Don't you read the paper's?" Edith snapped more than she meant to.
"I'm too busy living a life."
"Since Turkey's signature is vital-" Cora said.
"Not that they will likely sign it," Edith grumbled.
"Mr. Napier's been given the job of keeping him happy until the conference begins and he is eager to try a British hunt," Cora continued. "I shall invite this Mr. Pamuk to stay here as well. Who knows? A little hospitality in an English house may make all the difference to the outcome."
Edith held in a snort. Even if he wasn't destined to die, she highly doubted one minister's son's good experience at a party in a country largely unrelated to the conflict would change anything. Especially in a house largely more interested in the marriage market rather than political injustice.
"Edith," Cora said, "I heard you are riding out with them?"
"Yes, Matthew asked me too. He didn't want to go, but I convinced him it was necessary, only if we suffered together."
"Wonderful! And Mary, you will ride out with them."
"Oh, Mama, must I?" Mary whined. "My boots are at the menders, and I haven't ridden in weeks."
"Anna," Cora said to the maid, "please see that Lady Mary is fully equipped to go hunting."
"Yes, your ladyship," the blonde young woman nodded.
"Mama," Mary complained again, dark eyes flashing beautifully in irritation.
"Cheer up, dear," Cora smiled. "Edith will handle Cousin Matthew and you will ride out with Mr. Napier and Mr. Pamuk. It will go splendidly."
"Yes," Edith breathed, "splendidly." What could possibly go wrong now? Only everything. This was just the calm before the storm.