Author's note - 1

Hello all! First, thank you to everyone who reviewed the first two chapters of this fic. Please let me know what you think of this chapter as well!

Second, I apologize for the long delay in this update. Since my last update, I lost one of my best friends and I have been struggling. A lot. Even things I enjoy doing (like writing) have been much more difficult. So, while I try to get back in the swing of things and start writing on a more regular schedule, please keep my friend's family in your thoughts and prayers.

Disclaimer: If I owned Downton Abbey, I wouldn't need my day job.

July 1922

It was late. Well after midnight. And still, Anna refused to sleep. When Mr. Bates had gone back to London with Vera, she had told Lady Mary that she wanted to keep working. She wanted to be tired out and didn't want time to think. It was still true.

So, she made work for herself. She ironed clothes that were already perfect. If the kitchen maids were behind, she offered to wash dishes. And she stayed up late into the night, avoiding sleep, scrubbing shoes until her hands cracked and bled.

If Anna slowed down, even for a minute, she would think about the things she would rather not dwell on. She would wonder what Mr. Bates was doing at that moment. Did he miss her? She hoped not. She had hurt him when she left. She hoped he hated her. Or, better yet, she hoped he didn't think about her at all. Maybe he would move on.

Anna kept scrubbing, layering polish on Lady Welton's shoes, removing invisible specks of dirt that she pretended had attached themselves to the soles.

She wouldn't be sleeping if she went to bed anyway. She would lay in her narrow bed, staring at the ceiling for hours. And, when she finally fell asleep, she would be plagued by nightmares. Horrible dreams of her attacker trapping her, dragging her down the hall. Dreams of her husband killing Green and being sentenced to death.

No. Anna was better off exhausted and awake. The only problem with the plan was that, at moments like this, when the house was quiet and she was left alone, she permitted herself to think. To question whether Lady Mary had replaced her yet. To wonder what Mr. Bates was doing at that exact second, or if he was even still at Downton. She hoped he was. She had left specifically so that he could stay and not have to worry about her any longer.

On this particular evening, she had even more to think about than usual. At the breakfast table that morning, everyone had been discussing one of the articles in the paper. Though she hadn't been paying very close attention to the conversation, her ears perked up at the name "Harold Levinson." Lady Grantham's brother. Anna could never remember the man visiting Downton, but she knew enough about him to know that he caused trouble wherever he went. She had suddenly become much more interested in the conversation around her. She wasn't exactly sure why. It wasn't as though they were going to mention Mr. Bates.

Anna continued to brush the shoes on the table in front of her. Rhythmically. Absentmindedly. Not really watching what she was doing.

A noise in the corridor outside made her jump. She looked down at the shoes she had been cleaning for far too long. They were flawless. Even Anna could not pretend that she needed to keep scrubbing. She sighed and turned to place the spotless shoes on the shelf behind her. She picked up Lord Welton's dinner shoes that were sitting, waiting for Mr. Winthrop to clean them in the morning. She'd been doing it for weeks. Mr. Winthrop had to know that it was she who was doing the work for him. But he had yet to say anything to her. Actually, he hadn't tried to start a conversation with her in over a week. She wondered if he had finally realized that she had been putting him off.

"And here, I thought the fairies were doing my job for me."

Anna jumped again and turned to the door of the boot room. Mr. Winthrop stood in the doorway, smiling at her. She was trapped. He was blocking the only way out of the room.

It was too much.

Her vision was clouding over and she was right back in the boot room at Downton. Blocked in by Mr. Green. Calling out, begging her husband to come find her.

"I'm sorry." Mr. Winthrop cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. "I didn't mean to startle you. I saw the light on and I thought one of the hall boys must have forgotten to turn it off."

He was wearing his pajamas and a dressing gown with a pair of extremely worn slippers.

"I couldn't sleep," Anna lied. She realized as soon as the words were out of her mouth how stupid that must have sounded. It would be obvious to him that she was lying. She was still wearing the same dress she had worn all day. Her hair was still twisted up in the simple bun she had fashioned before she came down for breakfast.

Mr. Winthrop raised his eyebrows, but apparently decided not to point out the lie. "You know, that's not necessary," he gestured to the shoes that were still covered by Anna's hand. "I can take care of them in the morning."

Anna looked down at the shoes in her hand then back up at the valet. "I should really be getting to bed."

She started forward, but stopped when she got to the door that was still blocked by Mr. Winthrop. He looked down at her with a slightly concerned look on his face.

"I was just about to make myself a cup of tea. Why don't you join me?" He asked, backing out of his place in the doorway to allow Anna to pass.

"I really-" Anna started.

"I always make too much. Please - join me. It will help you sleep," he added, starting back down the hallway.

Anna considered her options. There was no way she could get to the servants' staircase without walking through the kitchen and servants' hall. She wouldn't be able to avoid him entirely. If she joined him, all of the work she had done toward not engaging with him would be lost. On the other hand, it would be hard to make up an excuse that would not be rude or another obvious lie.

She made her way down the hallway and entered the kitchen just in time to see Mr. Winthrop pouring tea into two tea cups.

He turned back to her and offered another smile. "Milk or sugar?"

"Sugar, please." Anna responded. She watched as he dropped two cubes of sugar into her cup, place both cups on a tray with a plate of biscuits, and walk to the table in the servants' hall. Anna followed him slowly, and sat down across the table from him.

She sipped her tea, continuing to avoid his eyes. The tea was strong, but not sweet enough. Mr. Bates used to tease her about how much sugar she put in her tea. He preferred to only add a dash of milk to his own.

"So," Mr. Winthrop interrupted her thoughts, "have you settled in?"

"I think so," she answered vaguely. Anna wrapped her hands around the tea cup in front of her, letting the heat seep into her palms. She tried not to remember the many times she had shared a cup of tea with Mr. Bates in the servants' hall at Downton. Before he was free of his first marriage and they could not be openly affectionate. It felt strange to be sitting here with Mr. Winthrop. It felt wrong. It felt unfaithful. But that wasn't fair. Mr. Bates didn't belong to her anymore.

"You must miss Yorkshire," Mr. Winthrop offered, once again cutting off her train of thought.

She did. More than she could possibly say. Or, at least, she missed the people she had left behind there. Anna felt her throat tighten up. She had never missed Mr. Bates more. Not trusting herself to speak, she made a vague noise of ascent.

Silence descended upon them, punctuated only by the occasional sip and clink of china as they picked up and replaced their cups repeatedly. The tea was still extremely hot, but Anna drank as quickly as possible. She allowed the liquid to scald her throat, trying to escape the room.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Mr. Winthrop appeared to study her between sips of tea. Anna wanted desperately to seek the safety of her small room upstairs. After what seemed like an eternity, she glanced down at her cup to find it still half-full.

"Well," she started, "I should really be getting to bed." Anna walked to the sink and poured out the remaining tea from her cup. She had just started to walk toward the staircase leading to the servants' quarters when her companion stopped her.

"Miss Smith," Mr. Winthrop started, "may I ask you something?"

"Yes," Anna responded, turning back to face him.

Mr. Winthrop appeared to hesitate before asking, "Have I done something to offend you?"

"No, of course not."

"Are you quite certain?" he asked. Anna's discomfort must have shown on her face, because he continued to explain, "Because it feels as if I've done something wrong. But, I'm afraid, I don't know what it is."

Anna sighed. She had hoped that her polite dismissal of his attempts to converse with her would satisfy his curiosity, but her avoidance tactics had, apparently, failed.

"You haven't done anything wrong." Anna said, trying to offer a small smile. Trying not to remember the last time she had spoken those words. Trying not to think about the pain she saw on her husband's face as she packed a few possessions into a case and walked out of the only home she had ever truly known.

"I hope that's true," he said, "because I expect that we will be spending quite a bit of time together."

Anna allowed her mind to wander at this thought. Yes, they likely would be spending a lot of time together. Mr. Winthrop was Lord Welton's valet, after all. If Lord and Lady Welton decided to travel at all, she would almost certainly be spending a lot of time in close proximity with him.

"If I've done anything to offend you, I apologize," he started again, "but, I do hope that we can be friends."

She considered him for a moment. She was still uncomfortable, but that was through no fault of Mr. Winthrop's. It was true that they would likely see a lot of each other, given their respective positions in the house. She had known all along that she would have to remain civil toward him at the very least.

"Yes," Anna heard herself say, "I hope so, too. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Anna turned back toward the staircase.

"Goodnight, Miss Smith," she heard from behind her.

Anna paused on the third step for the briefest moment before turning back toward the servants' hall slightly. "Good night, Mr. Winthrop."

At long last, she escaped. It was with a feeling of relief that Anna closed the door to her small room behind her. She had just made it to the bed when the tears started to fall. She sat on the edge of the thin mattress before reaching for the photograph on her bedside table.

Anna glanced at the picture and tried to think of happier times. Tried to imagine she was back in the bedroom she shared with Mr. Bates, waiting to feel his warm weight pressing the mattress down and reaching over to pull her closer. Her hand went to her pocket of its own accord, in search of her wedding ring.

It wasn't there.

Her fingers stretched into the corners of the pocket, searching for any trace of the cool metal. But she knew it was fruitless. Instead of finding the ring, her fingers found a small hole where the thread had come loose.

Anna didn't believe in signs. Not really. But this certainly felt like one.

Mr. Bates would tell her she was silly, and, she supposed, she was. Still, it was time. Tomorrow she would write a letter to Mr. Moser requesting an appointment.

She looked back down at the photograph in her hand. Her mind wandered once more to her husband.

Wherever you are, she thought, I hope you don't miss me as much as I miss you.

It felt like he was starting over. Again. Except, this time, Bates felt all of the doubt without the quiet support of a kind housemaid. As he looked down the table in the servants' hall at Lord Grantham's mother-in-law's house, he felt like an outsider in every way.

He had felt the same way when he first arrived in Downton. But he had slowly earned the trust of almost all of the servants. Bates had learned very early on that everyone, even Thomas and Miss O'Brien, respected Anna. She had been his ally, right from the start. He had considered himself lucky to count her as a friend. He never dreamed that friendship would evolve into more.

And yet, she had walked away. She had told him that she didn't deserve to be happy.

He knew the feeling. He had never deserved her Anna's love. He knew that. But he had accepted it. Gladly. Gratefully. And now he was paying the price for it.

Bates was shaken from his thoughts by a question from the butler about whether Lord Grantham had chosen a departure date. He wondered if this was a veiled way of asking when they would be rid of him. Anna would tell him that he was imagining their dislike for him. But he truly didn't think he was.

Ordinarily, he would be excited at the opportunity to travel somewhere new, even if it meant he would miss Anna. She had always wanted to see America. She almost had. He had once posed the question to her of what she would have done in the event his sentence had not been reduced to life in prison. Anna had been taken aback by the question. She had been reluctant to talk about it, but eventually, she had revealed her plan to him. Going to America with Lady Mary seemed like a good way for her to start over. She would have a future and opportunities that would never present themselves to her if she stayed in England.

Bates had been hoping that the trip would help take his mind off of things. At least for a little while. When he found out that he and Lord Grantham were to travel to New York to help Lady Grantham's family, he had been looking forward to the trip. However, the anticipation quickly turned to guilt.

Anna had been gone for a few months now. He supposed it had something to do with his extensive stay in prison, but, prior to her departure, he always dreaded leaving her. Even though, unlike during his prison sentence, he did not have to wonder when he would next see her. He didn't have to think about when he would get to touch her again. She would be there when he returned, waiting for him with a smile to welcome him home.

As the car had driven him and Lord Grantham to the train station, he didn't feel excitement. He felt relief. Yes, of course it would be nice to take some time away from Downton, where everything reminded him of Anna and all that he had lost. But for one moment, Bates had felt happy that Anna was no longer there.

There wouldn't be any awkward goodbyes. He wouldn't have to restrain himself from touching her. He wouldn't lean in for a kiss only for Anna to shy away.

But most of all, he didn't have to wonder if she would miss him. He missed her with every breath he took,

but he wondered if she felt the same.

Bates retired to bed almost immediately after being dismissed by Lord Grantham that evening. He hoped they would be leaving to return home sooner rather than later. But, then again, Anna wouldn't be waiting for him when they arrived. He wouldn't be able to make her a cup of tea when they got back to the cottage or roll over in bed to pull her closer.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand next to the small bed in his room. Under the book he had been reading for the last few days was a picture of Anna. He brought it with him everywhere. Even now, knowing that she no longer loved him, Bates could not bring himself to throw it away or attempt to move on.

Bates looked down at the image of his wife. The picture hadn't been taken all that long ago. But she looked so much younger than she had when she left. She was innocent. Still. He was certain of it. He was certain that whatever had happened between them was his fault. He wished they could have talked about it. If he only knew what he had done, perhaps he could have repaired the damage to their relationship. Perhaps he could have convinced her to stay.

Where are you? Bates wondered. He glanced out the window and looked up at the dark sky. He at least knew her first steps after leaving Downton. But where had she gone after she left his mother's house? He was sure she had had no trouble in finding work. Still, he worried that she would never be happy. She had told him that she didn't deserve happiness. He knew this to be untrue obviously. Anna had been dealt a difficult hand in life, especially since she had met him. And yet, all of the struggle, all of the heartache had only made her kind.

When he had asked Mrs. Hughes about Anna's demeanor on the morning after the Dame Nellie's concert, he had made it a point to mention that his wife was always one to minimize things. This was especially true when it came to her own comfort. She rarely complained and almost never asked for assistance. He knew that she should suffer in silence even if it cost her everything.

But she had spent weeks avoiding him and pushing him away. If Bates was right, and he was sure that he was, whatever had happened to cause such a dramatic change in his wife's demeanor must have been worse than he could possibly imagine.

He looked back down at the picture again, taking in Anna's soft eyes and bright smile. Wherever you are, he thought, I hope you don't miss me as much as I miss you.

Author's note - 2

I don't know. Is having Anna lose her ring a little too much? It might be. Anyway…thoughts? Did you love it? Please review! Did you hate it? Please still review!