"I beg your pardon?" Mary gasped. The whole room fell silent, staring.

"You know very well what I've said, Lady Mary," Evelyn snapped. "I've told you a dozen times. If you have yet to understand, you are either deaf or idiotic."

"Evelyn-" Mary began.

"Napier," Papa barked. "Take care how you speak to my daughter in my home."

"I would be more concerned, Sir, with addressing your daughter's behavior and how she speaks and acts in public. I am tired of being pawed over like some meat at market."

"Well, I never!"

"Evelyn," Edith murmured, slipping to his side. She tightly gripped his arm in warning. Papa was angry. People were watching. "Please."

"Evelyn," Mary said quickly. Her voice tinged with an emotion Edith could only call desperation. "It seems you have misconstrued my actions. I have merely extended my family's hospitality, and attempted to keep you company as a good hostess."

From the fireplace, an incredulous snort could be heard. "Pardon me," Sir Anthony coughed, attempting to blend into the wallpaper as all eyes turned to him.

"Forgive me," Evelyn said, taking a deep breath, his bicep flexing under Edith's finger tips. "That doesn't seem how our interactions have come across to me."

"You-" Papa began.

"Robert!" Cora cried loudly, coming to his side. She lowered her voice as she murmured to the group. "Perhaps it is best you take Mr. Napier to the library to sort this out. Mary, I suggest you go upstairs. You're tired."

"I will not be sent to bed like some petulant child," Mary argued.

"You will!" Cora hissed fiercely. "You have caused this family enough embarrassment for one night."

Mary looked down, cowed for the moment. Edith clung more tightly to Evelyn's arm as murmurs began to flood through the room. Disasterous evening, Edith heard. Dreadful behavior, came another whisper. I heard rumors, a voice tittered.

Cora forced a smile on her face as she turned to face the eagerly watching crowd. Sybil forced the same unbothered expression that didn't quite reach her eyes she turned at Cora's nod to begin a discussion about London fashion with Lady Warren. Cora looked at Edith as well, and, reluctantly, she began to release Evelyn's arm. Only, he wouldn't let her.

"You are coming," Evelyn said firmly, guiding her to follow a raging Robert and nervous Mary. They got as far as the Saloon, mercifully away from prying eyes, when Mary seemed to freeze and look back.

"I didn't see- Has Matthew left?" She asked no one in particular.

"Yes, he did," Edith nodded.

"When? Branson can't have brought the car around so quickly. And his mother is still here."

"I imagine he walked."

"Yes, My lady," William said, standing stiff and straight by the door. "He did."

"I… hadn't expected him to leave so soon," Mary's voice drifted sadly. Evelyn puffed a doubtful sound, and Edith couldn't keep her own face from twisting into a disbelieving glare.

"Did you expect him to wait for you while you flirted with another man? Honestly, you are such a child!"

"Don't you-"

"Do you think people are toys? That you can put them down when you grow bored and they will still be sitting there waiting for you to play with them again?"

"Enough!" Papa barked, turning sharply back to them and motioning William to open the library door. "Mary, you will go to your room. Your Mama and I will speak with you tomorrow, but know disappointment and embarrassment doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of what I feel tonight. Napier, Edith, come with me."

Papa marched like he was ready for war. Evelyn followed right behind, bringing Edith with him at the same determined pace. Edith only had a moment to look behind her. Mary stood alone in the dark room. Edith couldn't make much of her expression, but her eyes glimmered in the dim light. She didn't know if the shine was fury or tears.

"Sit." Papa ordered as the door closed behind them. He immediately stormed over to the nearest decanter and poured himself a glass. Edith slipped silently onto a couch, trying to pull Evelyn with her. He didn't.

"I'll stand."

"Because you haven't been difficult enough tonight," Papa sneered, taking a gulp from his glass.

"If you want to call me difficult, I can't imagine what words you'll have for Lady Mary."

"Evelyn," Edith said desperately.

"No, Edith. Your sister knows the reason I am here, and it isn't her. She spurned me once, and I accepted the rejection with good will, grace even, under the circumstances."

"Yes!" Robert snapped. "You then proceeded to spread those circumstances AND scandalous rumors to ruin my daughters!"

"He did no such thing, Papa!" Edith defended, clenching her hands into her skirt. "You know it was Pamuk's doing, not Evelyn's."

"Well his loose lips certainly didn't help, did they? And what do you think will happen after tonight?" Papa raged. "Lady Grisby will spread the news from here to Timbuktu! Do you think Mary will survive your words, Napier? You might as well have tied her to the stake yourself!"

"I apologize," Evelyn said. "Know that I never meant to give any credence to the rumors. I would never do that to Edith's family."

"Papa," Edith begged. "Lady Grisby would have used tonight against us regardless. Mary's behavior would have made rumors no matter what Evelyn did."

"A young woman forgetting her table manners and acting a bit brashly is far from a young woman publicly denounced as a handsy flirt," Papa pushed back.

The door to the library was swung open by Carson. Cora came through the door, quickly surveying the room and coming to her husband's side. "The guests are gone."

"What did you tell them?" Papa asked stoically.

"That it was a family squabble," Cora said calmly. "Most were already aware of the girls' rivalry, so I told them Mary wasn't taking well to her younger sister being settled before her."

"What?" Papa said, the look of confusion on his face suddenly broke into understanding and rage. "No! I forbid it!"

"Robert!"

"I will. Gladly." Evelyn said firmly.

"No!"

"Robert," Cora cried. "It's the best way to protect the girls. People can't speculate when he is already tied to our family."

"They will still talk!"

"But not so harshly. And not about Edith."

"Sir," Evelyn began. "If this is what I can do to protect Edith and your family and make up for my errors, I will. Nothing would give me more pleasure. Although, whether or not she will accept me, is Edith's choice in the end."

"You-"

"Accept what?" Edith asked, interrupting Papa mid bluster. Even sitting, the world felt as if it was spinning around her. No one was making any sense. "I don't understand."

"My darling," Cora began, coming to sit beside her and grasping both hands with hers. "Mary's actions tonight and Mr. Napier's words will only heighten the rumors in London."

"Of course, but what-"

"The only way to stop them entirely is for both of you to marry well, but after tonight that could be impossible. People will say Mary flings herself at every eligible man unless we can convince them that she couldn't have because she knew Mr. Napier was ineligible. That she saw him as family, not a suitor. That he was already promised to another."

"As if that would stop her," Evelyn said. "The truth certainly didn't."

"Careful, Napier. You're on thin ice," Papa warned.

"I- But- Who would he marry?" Edith stammered. Papa downed the rest of his glass, and Cora gave her a sad look. Evelyn turned to her with a sigh.

"How is it that you Crawley girls get things so mixed up. One convinced I want her when I don't, and the other to blind to see that I do." Evelyn kneeled before Edith, his hands taking her own. Edith felt her heart rise to her throat. "You, Edith. I would marry you."

"Me?"

"I thought it was rather obvious."

"Yes," Papa grumbled. Cora gave him a look.

"You can't want to marry me, Evelyn," Edith said. She pulled back her hands from his grasp. They were shaking. Her heart was pounding.

"Why can't I?"

"Because I-" Edith couldn't speak. How could Evelyn, handsome, intelligent Evelyn, want to marry her? He couldn't."I don't want you to marry me out of guilt or pity or whatever act of charity this is to you."

"It's not charity, Edith. I want to marry you."

"How? I'm not-"

"You are a beautiful, intelligent woman any man would be proud to marry." Evelyn was looking up at her from where he knelt before her. His dark eyes were full of sincerity. "You're kind and good and would be a wonderful wife. And you see me as more than the stuffy bore I am. How could I not want to marry you?"

"No. No, you can't-"

"Edith," Cora said, "this is the best possible solution. Mary will be ruined, and you will be tarnished. The guests are already spreading the rumor that you are engaged. If it's not true-"

"It's her choice," Papa said. "If she doesn't want to marry him, she doesn't have to."

"No, I-" Edith didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore. "I need time to think."

"Of course," Evelyn said glancing down, before looking up with a sad yet understanding smile. "I am sorry, Edith. I wanted to ask you if I could court you properly when I came to Downton, not… this."

"It's not your fault, Evelyn."

"It is. Mine and your sisters, as we have forced you into this decision. For that, I am so terribly sorry."

"We will go up now," Cora said, pulling Edith with her as they stood from the sofa. "I'm sure you two have more details to discuss."

"Nothing has been decided," Papa argued. "And I haven't given my blessing."

"Then I will try to earn it and regain your trust, Lord Grantham," Evelyn said, seriously, his voice growing more distant as Cora led Edith out of the library. She was really starting to dread that room.

The walk upstairs was quiet, thankfully. Edith's mind was spinning too much for conversation. The pair of mother and daughter at last reached the family wing and the row of bedrooms belonging to the Crawley daughters when two figures stepped from the shadows.

"What happened?" Mary demanded.

"How was Mr. Napier?" Sybil asked worriedly. "Did you sort it?"

"Not now, girls," Cora chided.

"But what has happened? What WILL happen?"

"If Edith makes the right choice, then nothing but good things, my dear."

"Then we will want to prepare for the worst while we still can," Mary snorted.

"Mary!" Cora snapped. "Your behavior has been atrocious. Especially to your sister! You've bungled your reputation so badly it's up to her to fix it, and even then you have started rumors that I doubt will die completely. How could you do that? To your family? You better thank your lucky stars that Edith- Edith?"

"Edie?" Sybil worriedly asked as Edith closed her bedroom door in her mother and sibling's faces. She couldn't handle any of them tonight, not even Sybil. She had to think.

Instead of sleeping, Edith spent the majority of the hours between dusk and dawn pacing, staring into the middle distance, and flipping between her pages of German notes on the Downton Abbey television plot. How had it all become so muddied? When had the story been thrown so off course?

Edith spent an hour or two cursing Pamuk. It had been his visit, the hunt, that had kicked off this mess. It was from that night that all the changes had occurred. If he had never done what he did then… but that wasn't true was it?

If Pamuk had done exactly as he had before, without interference, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have lived to create more vicious rumors about Mary and harm a number of other women if Edith hadn't interrupted them. Evelyn wouldn't have been involved with the Crawleys if Edith hadn't written to him. Mary wouldn't have so thoroughly embarrassed herself and the whole family if Edith hadn't invited him here. At every step what had led to this disaster, this mockery of a proposal, was herself. Edith had done this.

Edith wanted to cry or maybe laugh. She couldn't tell anymore. She had been worried that not romancing Sir Anthony would throw off the plot, let alone marrying Evelyn Napier. What happened to him just being a short term, background character? When had she pulled him into the main cast of this Edwardian soap opera? How would this change things?

If Edith married him, she would leave Downton. She wouldn't be here to help Sybil or Matthew or anyone. She would be the lady of her own estate, Branksome. She would run it, presumably, during the coming Great War, and not be of any help to her family. She wouldn't know what was happening, at all. But had she lost that already?

If Edith didn't marry Evelyn, she would stay at Downton, but the reputation of the Crawley's would be in the gutter. Mary would be completely unmarriageable, barred from most if not all of high society. Sybil would be smeared by this too, as would Edith. Cora would be a laughing stock as a lady and mother of unruly daughters, and Papa's respect and business would take a substantial hit. It would be a disaster.

However, in the end, it might not be such a terrible choice. Mary would likely jump to marry Matthew without hesitation which would solve a number of future problems. Sybil's relationship with Tom would still cause a stir, but perhaps it would be less world ending in comparison. And with the war coming, the emphasis on a spotless reputation would fade… but not much and not enough for Edith.

Edith had always expected to be a spinster. A happy and free spinster in her manless life until, at least, the end of the war if not for longer. Then, if she so desired, she would marry some plot irrelevant gentleman or perhaps even Bertie. She had always liked him. Now, the chances of that were slim.

The rumor was out. Unless Evelyn revealed it was all a lie, which Edith rather doubted he would, they would have been engaged to public knowledge. This meant the engagement's "sudden end" would be scrutinized, and likely deemed to be due to Edith and her family's moral failings. This would make the Pamuk situation worse and, while Sybil and Mary had love interests waiting in the wings, it would likely kill any hope of future matrimony for Edith. This meant her likely one and only chance at love was Evelyn, but was his current fondness enough for a lifetime?

Edith paused her pacing before the floor length mirror. The face that stared back at her was the same she had seen the entirety of this life, but Edith could admit the feelings she had for it had changed over the years. Twenty first century standards and her past self deemed her decent, pretty even, but the confidence of individuality had faded as the years went by. One could only be told they were ugly so many times before they began to believe it.

Edith did have some of her confidence still. Not in her appearance per say, but she did know the worth of her character. She was witty and proper and kind, or at least she tried to be. She was honest, ambitious, well mannered, and well spoken.The problem was, no matter how positively she might view those traits, many of them would be seen as detrimental rather than desirable.

The ideal wife of the twentieth century was not who Edith was. The ideal was demure, domestic, and femininely beautiful. Take away her looks, Edith still was not a good choice for a wife with her outspoken nature and business ventures. Some would deem her too masculine, butch even. No traditional man would want her, even without accounting for her secret of Mr. Crow, and Evelyn was certainly a traditional man.

Handsome, kind, traditional Evelyn Napier. He was a catch and could get any woman he wanted. He could get a woman who checked all the right boxes, but instead he wanted her? Only two reasons could explain it.

The first was misplaced responsibility or some extension of his gentlemanly heroics. Evelyn was the type to duel at dawn for a lady's honor. It was galant, but Edith hardly wanted him to throw his life away for no other reason than it was the "right thing to do". She didn't want him to resent her for it.

And yet, Evelyn had looked into her eyes and told her he wasn't doing it out of guilt. Edith knew him well enough to believe his words were sincere. While his own culpability for the rumors might play a part, Evelyn truly meant it when he said that he was doing it for other reasons, doing it because of his interest in her as a woman, a suitor, a wife.

That was the second and only remaining explanation, that it was all because he cared for her, but how much of that was genuine? They only knew each other through one season and a few letters. Even then there were whole swaths of their life they had yet to tell. Was what they had shared enough to determine your partner for a lifetime? Was it enough to fall in love? Edith didn't know.

Edith had never even considered Evelyn as a suitor. Why would she? He had proposed to another in the show, and his criteria for a wife seemed far different from her. He had been interested in Mary after all. The likelihood of him liking her had been, in her mind, slim to none. She hadn't let herself even think about the possibility, but now… now it was the only thing that mattered. Edith had to know how Evelyn felt before she could make her decision. Before she could begin to let herself feel the same.

In the morning, Edith promised herself as the sun began to creep over the horizon and she fell into bed. In the morning she would speak to Evelyn, determine the depth of his feelings and decide her answer. Then and only then would she choose whether to stay Lady Edith Crawley or become Viscountess Edith Napier.