A/N: I'm still calling this chapter an epilogue, even though it's longer than some other chapters (whoops).

Chapter 20: Epilogue

March 1932

Sleeping until she woke up natural was a feat which had lost none of its novelty, and something which she continued to cherish as much as she ever had. While she was technically awake her eyes remained closed, the early sun streaming through from the window and warming her face in a pleasant manner. If she had fewer responsibilities then it would have been very easy indeed to drift back off with such a comforting companion.

In the next few minutes she discerned a matching march of footsteps approaching nearer, along with whispering voices which did not try particularly hard to keep themselves from being heard. Her lips curved into a smile upon the pillow, happily anticipating the onslaught that was to come and making it appear as if she were still ensconced in a deep slumber.

"Mama! Mama!"

Her daughters made their presences well and truly felt, clambering up onto the bed and bouncing about on their knees, beginning to giggle as they prodded at her with their small hands.

"Wake up, Mama!"

Charlotte remained the more vocal and insistent of the two, issuing her commands while Emma kept up the poking, her laughter becoming more giddy as the charade went on. Even if her sister had led the charge, Anna had little doubt in believing that Emma was the mastermind behind each invasion.

"You can't be a sleepy-head, mama!" Charlotte insisted, leaning forward so that her ringletted hair brushed against her mother's face.

Anna made a fuss as she turned onto her back, exaggerating the wrinkling of her nose and opening her eyes wide. Both of her daughters grinned down at her, their mission an unequivocal success, and then giggled loud as she braced an arm around each of them. They squirmed and wriggled but did not resist being pulled down to lie either side of their mother, two pairs of bright blue eyes shining as fiercely as the sun. She had taken to calling them her songlarks, as they were always effervescent and full of joy, never mind the hour.

"Indeed not, when the morning is so fine," she said, smiling hazily towards Charlotte at her right, bringing her in closer as she turned her head to the left to address Emma, "and when I have both of your beautiful faces to greet me."

She snuggled them both to her side, kissing each girl on the cheek before letting out a yawn that she could no longer keep stifled.

"I suppose you have already had your breakfast?"

The answer to her question was a foregone conclusion; John took great pleasure in the most routine of tasks when they were performed for his family, and he was always willing to offer her indulgences, even when she argued that he was as well-entitled to them as she.

"Two hours ago!" Emma announced, which gave Anna a sound shock.

Goodness, she really had slept in.

"I'm still hungry," Charlotte whimpered, pulling the sleeves of her blue dress past her hands, a bad habit which she was slowly growing out of.

"Well, we can't have that," Anna said as she rose swiftly, placing the girls down feet first on the floor so that they didn't tumble in her haste. "Let's go and see your Da, shall we?"

"Da and Will are busy," Emma replied, her lilac dress pristine in comparison to her sister.

"Of course they are." She caught sight of the clock as she rushed about the room, fixing the bedsheets and throwing on her robe. She could hardly believe that John would let her sleep so late. "Perhaps Mrs Gould will do you something."

"I want to see Da and Will!" Charlotte exclaimed, apparently changing her mind about being hungry.

"Not while they're busy, darling," Anna appeased her daughter with a gentle smile, before another pressing matter occurred to her. "Oh, heavens! What about Robbie?"

"He's asleep," both girls chimed together, which was a source of great assurance for Anna.

Charlotte then followed up by giggling "he is a sleepy-head like you are, Mama!"

Anna couldn't stop herself from chuckling also. "You two and Will both take after your Da in liking to rise early. I'm happy that one of you is on my side." She smiled as the girls flashed gap-toothed grins towards her from where they stood. "Will you be alright in amusing yourselves for a few minutes?"

"Yes, mama," the girls replied in unison, scurrying back to their room before Anna could say any further.

She took a moment to breathe deeply, aiming to shake the cobwebs that her deep slumber had allowed to let settle, and then moved towards the cot that stood in the shadiest corner of the room. Peeking over to take a look inside she saw that her youngest child was on his back with his arms pointed upwards and fists curled, sweet little snuffling sounds coming from his pouting rosebud lips. Anna was deeply content to stare at him for a while, her heart full to overflowing at the sight.

Nearly a year on from his birth, which happened to be just a few days shy of their anniversary, they still considered Robert David Bates – Robbie for short – to be something of an unexpected gift, Anna most certainly so. While it was perhaps too much to claim that she had given up hope of having another child, she had thought it realistic to keep her dreams at an easier grasp from which to reach. The hotel was certainly more than enough to keep them occupied, as it continued to go from strength to strength and great success.

They had not foreseen being blessed again but were overjoyed to be so, and now could not picture what life was like before having their second son to complete their family. He was such a good-natured baby – perhaps even the most pleasant of all their children, full of smiles for anyone he came across. The one problem had come with the blasted business of teething, which would keep him, as well as Anna and John, awake for longer than any of them wanted. Luckily the worst of it was coming to an end, but it did also mean that they didn't mind indulging him a little more when it came to sleeping. It was not the wisest habit to get into but Anna was not too perturbed, figuring that all would work out in time.

She used her maternal judgment to reach into the cot and gently pick Robbie up, nestling him close and revelling in the warm weight of him against her. He made a few murmurs as he came to, though he did not cry.

"Hello, my little love," Anna cooed in a hushed tone. Robbie looked up at her before placing his head against her chest. She smoothed over his thick dark hair with one hand. "Welcome to a brand new day."

Nudging her nose against a soft cheek she took a breath of his wonderful scent, doing her best not to let sentiment overwhelm her. She would indulge herself, not just on this particular morning, in holding her baby close, gently swaying him in her arms as the welcoming rays of the sun woke them both up.

These moments were the ones they had dreamed of, in what seemed like another lifetime. She thought herself incredibly blessed that they were so much more than she had ever hoped possible.

"You're up."

Her husband's deep timbre caused her to open her eyes, cradling Robbie's head with her hand as she turned round to find him in the doorway. He was absent of jacket but wore a waistcoat and tie, the rich brown making the white shirt seem all the crisper. His sleeves were rolled back to the elbow, showing that he had already been hard at work. She found herself conflicted between marvelling at the muscles of his forearms and feeling thoroughly guilty that she had not joined him to lighten the load in the ways in which he would let her.

"Good morning," he uttered, stooping to press a kiss to her forehead, his lips pleasantly cool – he must have been outside. Robbie wriggled and babbled with joy at the sight of his da, which made John chuckle, the sound rumbling from his throat. "And to you too, my boy."

She met his tender gaze with a slight frown, which after so much time he could read within seconds.

"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long," she said, less chastising than she would have liked when she considered that she really had enjoyed the extra couple of hours, as well as the slow start to the day with the girls and then with Robbie.

"And why not?" John retorted with a smile in his voice and twinkling in his eyes. "It's a Sunday, which means that you are more than entitled. As well as this little tyke keeping you up at all hours."

Little Robbie gummed at his fist, his dark eyes going bigger on the instant. John cradled him close when he took him from Anna's arms, apologising for any implication that had been made.

"I thought that you both needed it."

Anna's heart was always captured by her husband's sincerity and generosity of spirit, as well as the soft-hearted way he was looking at her. Both of those things, coupled with how absolutely beautiful he looked holding their youngest son – who happened to be the complete image of him, a fact which she absolutely adored – made it all the harder to argue her case.

She shook her head, even as she bathed in his unwavering gaze. "I can't remember the last time I was down at breakfast." Her voice turned quieter as she tipped her chin down, her hand lifted so that Robbie could grab onto her fingers with a pudgy fist. "Lord only knows what the guests will think of me."

"They will think that you are a hard-working, dedicated mother as well as a proprietor, who puts the needs of her family first, and that is the finest thing that anyone could expect."

Even after all the years and the many, many moments that have passed between them, when he had been the centre of her world as she thought its very foundations were crumbling into ash at her feet, she still beams and blushes at his words, the way he elevates her to the status of a goddess with a simple look. She feels the colour burnishing in her cheeks and his stare doing nothing to stop it from flourishing; she would say with certainty that he even takes pleasure in making her look as though she had spent too many hours out in the sun without a hat to shade her.

"And anyway," he adds, raising Robbie high into the air for a few moments, which the boy finds thrilling, "I don't care what they think."

"Mr Bates!" she exclaims, teasing him with the formal address that she liked to employ from time to time when they were in private, a reminder of many happy times spent elsewhere. "That is a terrible thing to say, when those people keep bread and butter on our table."

He smirks at her words, and she is struck again with how much younger he looks here than he did in their last years at Downton, though never any less handsome.

"A little exaggeration, then," he tempers his outburst. Robbie is lowered to come face to face with his father, who smiles wide at him before continuing. "But I will always care more for what my sons and daughters think of me than anyone else in the wideness of this world."

He placed a raspberry kiss on Robbie's cheek, causing the boy to shriek with gleeful giggles.

"And I care for my wife's good opinion most of all."

"Well," she responds, keeping her tone as even as she can in the circumstances, "you happen to be in luck."

She is a little deflated, as she had wanted to put something towards the breakfast and with it being the weekend reasoned that she would have more time to do so. Mrs Gould never failed to put on an ample spread for the guests, and they were often lucky enough to be able to help themselves to what was left over, if she didn't see fit to cook them something fresh. The children were easy to please, enjoying eggs with toast soldiers most of all, and jam with toast as a treat, Emma preferring marmalade.

Well, there was always another day for that.

"Where's Will?"

"With Archie," John replied with a knowing smile, "although the last time I checked he had his head buried in his book. I had to give him a nudge to make sure that his food didn't go cold."

"He could be getting up to worse, we should be thankful." She issued a smile of her own to him and to Robbie too, who was listening eagerly to his parents' conversation. "Anyway, you were something of a bookworm at his age, and you turned out very well."

"I just don't want him to spend the whole of the weekend reading," John said with a sigh, "not when he's doing quite enough of it during the week."

"If he's happy I don't see any harm in it."

It was a good thing, really; it meant that he was surely ahead of the other children in his class, not that it was a sport. She couldn't help but feel immensely proud whenever she thought of it though, Will's schoolteacher passing on the comment just the other week that he was doing very well. Not only that, but that he was one of the brightest children that she had ever had the pleasure of teaching.

She did miss their eldest terribly during the week, even if he was home by four – it meant that the best part of the day had passed by without him there. It was only another six months until the girls would start at school, a fact she wanted to delay thinking about for as long as possible. It would be ever so quiet.

At least it would be a long time before she was waving Robbie off with tears in her eyes.

At the weekends, when he wasn't wrapped up in reading, Will would spend most of the time following Archie about. He was the shadow of the desk clerk, who John had promoted to assistant manager more than a year ago given his loyalty and fine work, being invaluable to them when at times they inevitably needed to curb their duties to attend first and foremost to the children. Neither of them could think of a better role model for their first son. Archie was equally enamoured with Will, letting him take on little tasks here and there and being full of praise for him whatever their outcome.

His father continued to be his number one, however, and it filled Anna's heart with so much joy to see how Will clearly idolised John, his blue eyes shining with it in the days that were the most run-of-the-mill. She always knew that he would be the most wonderful father, even in the days when she should not have considered the prospect quite so much, and the years had gone on to prove her right over and again.

He doted on them all, all that he did from dawn until past the setting of the sun entirely for each of them. She was thinking of precisely that, with a smile that rivalled the golden rays of sunlight upon her face, as she watched him bouncing Robbie in his arms, both father and son delighting in the impromptu playtime.

John noticed her gazing at him in the middle of pulling a parade of silly faces to keep their youngest amused. He had gone long past the point of being embarrassed about such a thing, and instead chuckled heartily.

"You should go down for some breakfast. I believe Mrs Gould's speciality today was bacon, scrambled eggs and hash browns."

"A few slices of toast will do me fine," she replied, even if her stomach was intrigued by the thought of all of those elements put together.

"Nuh, Ma!"

John smiled and nodded at their youngest son, whose input on the matter had been completely unprompted by him.

"If you won't listen to me, then listen to your son. He knows that his mama deserves to be treated. Isn't that right, my boy?"

"Ma! Ma ma ma," Robbie repeated exuberantly, his rosy cheeks shining.

"You've twisted my arm, little love," she said with a grin, opening her arms. "I had better see to you first, otherwise you won't be very happy with me."

They went downstairs, John calling upon the girls to join them, both of them bringing a doll each. As Anna nursed Robbie, John opened some letters. He took his time reading one in particular, Anna noticing him lingering on the page when she looked up, her hand smoothing against Robbie's head. She gave him a look, asking whether everything was alright without the words.

He answered with a smile and a little nod of his head while he folded the piece of paper back up in his hands.

"You'll have the dining room to yourself," he said as she settled Robbie against her shoulder, patting a hand gently at his back, "aside from the Beechams everyone seems to have gone out for the day. I believe that Mr and Mrs Dalby will be back for luncheon, and perhaps the Stonehouses too."

"Making the most of the nice weather," she replied, then exclaiming "well done!" when Robbie got up his wind.

"Da, Tilly hasn't had her breakfast yet," Emma announced, combing the hair of her doll upon the table.

"Neither has Bella, Da!" Charlotte echoed her sister, holding her doll high in the air. "Also, Bella said to ask whether I might have some more breakfast, because I'm still hungry."

John and Anna looked at one another with smiles in their eyes, before he turned to their daughters.

"If your mama doesn't mind Tilly and Bella joining her."

"Not at all," Anna replied, "I'd be honoured to breakfast with such fine ladies. And you included, Miss Charlotte."

Though it wasn't particularly an uncommon occurrence it always felt rather special to take breakfast in the dining room. Charlotte enjoyed it especially, and asked her again whether it was like being at Downton Abbey. She smiled, thinking that even if she would have ever got the chance to dine in the grand room that it wouldn't have compared to this.

The place was quiet, but still Archie remained faithful at his post, standing at the front desk and poring over a newspaper. Sitting on a stool beside him, its height making him visible over the counter, was Will. Anna broke into a wide smile on seeing her eldest, his still-cherubic face schooled into a thoughtful expression at the book he held open in his hands.

"So this is where you've been hiding."

Both of them looked up simultaneously, Archie grinning.

"Morning, Mrs Bates."

"It still is, just about. Mr Bates was very remiss in not waking me up earlier."

"I know better to say anything either way," Archie smiled. "He did have a very able assistant on hand, before passing him on graciously to myself. Young William has been invaluable with the post-breakfast rush."

Will glanced up from the pages of his book with the merest hint of a smile on his face, a modest acknowledgement of his achievements.

"I'm delighted to hear it. Seeing as things have calmed down, would you mind if I borrowed your deputy for a little while?"

"Not at all."

"Can I finish the chapter first, Mummy?" Will's eyes pleaded towards her. "I haven't got much to go."

"Go on, then." She couldn't exactly refuse him.

Returning to the open pages with an eager smile, Will continued on, mouthing some of the words in every other sentence. Anna took the opportunity to gaze fondly at her boy, looking so grown-up.

He was true to his word and jumped down from the high seat in a flash once he was done, book tucked under his arm. She ran a hand over his hair, which was getting a little too long. He was growing like a weed, seeming to shoot up an inch or so each day.

"Your Da thinks you're not getting enough fresh air."

Will frowned, which made his cheeks puff out a little. "But it's been too cold, and raining all the time."

Anna smiled at his sensible reasoning; the winter had been a particularly lengthy one. "Not today though. The sun is out and wondering where William Bates is, because he'd like to say hello."

She thought perhaps he might scoff at that; at six he was beginning to outgrow babyish ideas. Instead he smiled, his eyes full of light, and once more she considered herself the luckiest mother to have such a darling boy.

"The tables in the tea room and the parlour could do with new flowers," she said as they walked out into the garden, said sun greeting them with welcoming warmth. "I thought you'd enjoy helping me pick some."

He straightened his frame, having been tasked with another incredibly important job.

"Thank you Mummy," he answered earnestly, "I'll do my very best."

They spent a good while with the sun on their faces, careful not to crush the tender blooms as they plucked them from the earth. Anna was reminded of being back at the cottage, in the little garden they had, and how Will liked being amongst the flowers and rolling in the grass, when it was just the two of them on sunny mornings and long afternoons.

Armed with a basket full of different colours they were happy and tired, and very deserving of a glass of lemonade, which Mrs Gould had made fresh. Will gulped at his glass, slowing down once Anna placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling fondly at her boy.

Once they had a rest they set about placing the flowers in each of the vases, Anna having disposed of the old, drying ones and lining them up in a row. Emma breezed in to join them after a little while, informing her brother and mother that Tilly had caught a fever and was tucked up in bed.

"Mummy?" William said, putting the last tall blue flower into the last vase. "Are you alright? You look sad."

"Oh no, sweet-pea," she uttered, snapping out of her daze. "I'm just thinking, that's all."

"About what?"

"Something very serious indeed."

She let her smile grow wider, so that she stopped her precious boy from worrying needlessly.

"I'm thinking about what we can bake for the guests to go with their dinner this evening."

With much excitement from Will and Emma at the prospect, together they decided upon ginger biscuits and lemon cakes – as Charlotte, who joined in proceedings as they trekked to their own kitchen, did not like ginger. The chatter and laughter of the children filled the room, Anna making sure to divide her time equally amongst them, as well as little Robbie who oversaw the scene from the throne of his highchair.

She had got considerably better at baking in the last couple of years – thanks to having some eager little assistants to help her out. Whenever she made treats for the guests and their staff compliments were forthcoming, and it gave her a warm glow in her chest to know that her efforts were appreciated. It would take her some years still to get up to the standards of Mrs Patmore, but she remembered her few 'lessons' with the cook in the kitchens of the Abbey as she and John had begun to set up home in their cottage with great fondness. They had certainly served her well.

Looking at the clock, as well as the remaining contents of the larder, she smiled as she decided to add in another option to the sweets that in a couple of hours would be ready for the eating. Happy memories breezed through her mind; the rush of water and autumnal sunshine, the steps of a reel that her feet still remembered despite it being some time ago. Some shortbread would be the perfect nod to her husband's heritage, and though he didn't have quite as much of a sweet tooth as she or the children did it was something he had a particular favour for.

He emerged from his hideaway, kissing her cheek and rather cheekily unlacing the bow of her apron, out of the sight of the children who were now amusing themselves by drawing out table markers for each of the guests. She stifled a sigh but smiled at the gentle skitter of his fingers upon her spine.

"How is everything looking?" she asked, knowing what he had been up to. "Will we have enough to see us through until Christmas?"

Her tone was light and full of joviality; there hadn't been a week that they hadn't been nearly at full capacity since they started up, nearly three years previous.

"I would say so," he replied, with just an edge of gravity. "This summer looks like it will be the busiest one yet."

It pleased her to hear, although she had to admit to hoping for something of a lull. They both thrived on hard work, sharing the same values and ethics, and the fact that the hotel was such a success made them both delighted. Hearing their guests - especially those who had returned - tell them that their stays had been very pleasant and that they couldn't have possibly asked for more never failed to give them a thrill.

Yet, as their family was growing, she yearned for the opportunity for a little break away themselves, where they could enjoy these times that were so golden, and likely to flit away like leaves and birds alike in the sky if they didn't pay special attention to them.

"And we will have some very special guests early on in the summer," he continued, his broad smile warming her before he directed it to the children. "Would any of you like to guess who might be visiting us?"

"Grandmama Elsie and Grandpa Charles!" Emma ventured.

Anna beamed, their daughter having a particular affection for Mr and Mrs Carson.

"I think they may be rather busy at the Abbey, darling," she said softly, attempting to appease Emma, who did have a tendency to hold sorrow to her heart.

"The King and Queen!" Charlotte exclaimed, her blue eyes lighting and rosy cheeks flaring.

John chuckled. "Not quite, but you're not too far off, a stór."

Anna felt her own expression shift in anticipation, as well as her shoulders raising slightly and hands clenching.

"The Earl and Lady Grantham are coming to stay."

As grand as it was to have their former employers staying, it had happened once before so the prospect was not especially a daunting one. John had been playing things up for the sake of their children, who greeted the news with grinning faces.

"And," he took another breath, turning his gaze towards his wife, "the Dowager Countess will be joining them."

"Good heavens!" The exclamation left Anna's lips without a second's thought, causing the children, including baby Robbie, to giggle helplessly.

She composed herself within a moment, wiping her clean hands upon her skirt and looking towards John, exasperated. Of course, they couldn't refuse the elder Lady Grantham, but the idea was so absurd that she couldn't possibly begin to imagine it in reality.

"The Dowager…" she began again with a whispered breath. Her heart was already hammering, thinking of meeting the formidable matriarch of the Crawley family once more, and this time being the head of the household.

"She won't be staying," John's hand was comforting upon her shoulder, palm covering it completely, "His Lordship was clear about that in his letter. But she has heard, in her own words, 'exceptional' things about the afternoon tea that is served here, and is very keen to sample it."

"Well, that's a relief," Anna exhaled, one hand resting firm upon her stomach. She shared a smile with John, further assured by the warmth resting deep within his gaze. "We should inform Mrs Gould tomorrow, though. She'll want to ensure that everything is stocked up. And some of her ingredients you can only get in London."

"It'll be fine," he said, that ring of serenity woven through his tone. "And if the cupboards aren't as full as we hope, then the Dowager will just have to like what she is given."

"John!"

Once again the children giggled on hearing their mother refer to their father in a way other than 'your Da', 'your father' or, when they were in front of the guests, 'Mr Bates'.

"Don't worry, Mummy," Will said with his winning smile bright upon his face, "we can bake something for the Dow…" he stumbled, not quite certain of how to say the strange word, "Lady Grantham."

"And we can draw pretty pictures for her too!" Charlotte called, holding the picture she had been working upon aloft.

"Lots of them," Emma chipped in from where she had climbed up onto a chair next to Robbie's highchair, helping him to hold a crayon in his pudgy fist. "What does she like, Mummy?"

Anna couldn't wipe the grin from her face, heart bursting with love and pride for all of her thoughtful, loving children.

"Her name is Violet, so I'm sure that she would like to see some pictures of those."

The baking came out of the oven in batches not too long afterwards and were served up still warm to the guests once they had finished dinner. The ones that had turned out rather misshapen they kept for themselves, and the children were allowed to have one each before they were to go upstairs, first for their baths and then bed. Anna and John took it in shifts to see to them, with Anna on bath duty and John ready with an armoury of bedtime stories.

While they were busy with the older ones, Nelly, one of the younger members of their staff, kept baby Robbie occupied. Anna relieved her with a wide smile and words of gracious thanks, happy to feel the warm weight of her youngest in her arms, always welcoming no matter how long or tiring the day had been.

Little fuss was had that particular evening, which came as a relief to both of them, though they never really had much cause to complain. The guests often commented on how well-behaved their children were, and although they had little jokes about not seeing what was behind closed doors, they knew they were very lucky indeed.

They certainly would not have changed them, or indeed anything about their life how it had turned out, for the world.

Once Robbie had been asleep in her arms for around fifteen minutes she climbed the stairs with the utmost care. The slightest movement had the habit of waking him, especially in the past month or so. Tonight he was deep in slumber, and though she did not take any chances, standing cautiously by the cot for a little while, she still breathed out a happy sigh when he remained that way, his little legs wiggling and arms flailing just slightly every couple of minutes while she watched.

"Sweet dreams, my darling," she said in a hush, smoothing the back of her hand upon the soft dark hair that covered his crown.

By the time she had come out of the bathroom, washed and changed into her nightgown, John was prone, book in hands, glasses in place and clad in his striped pyjamas. She smiled at the sight of him, stretched out like a pasha, always being somewhat amazed at the speed at which he was able to finish up business for the night and be ready for bed. It was like he had performed a magic trick and she was yet to be privy to its secret.

Thankfully she had many years still to discover it.

She leant over to kiss him as she sunk against the mattress, her lips smiling against his at the sensation, not in the least dulled by familiarity; in fact, made all the more special because of it.

"Monday again tomorrow," she uttered, half in wonder as she made herself comfortable, head half leaning upon the pillow provided by his chest, "where on earth the weeks are going, I have no idea."

"They're going somewhere." She could feel his smile and the echo of his words against her cheek, warmth all around her.

She hoped that the hours until sunrise would go a little slower, although she loved every moment of the life they lived now.

Lord and Lady Grantham were not to be the only familiar faces checking into the hotel in the coming months. Gwen and her John, along with their boys, had made a booking some months ago for the school summer holidays, and she was already looking forward greatly to seeing them; the children all got on so well with each other, which was something that made her very happy given her history with Gwen.

Lady Mary and Mr Talbot were also due to visit again towards the end of the summer. Master George was boarding now, but Master Edward was still at prep school and their daughter, Catherine, was not yet old enough to be there, being just a year older than Robbie, so were more than likely to accompany their parents on their trip. Anna had been ever so proud on their first visit, six months after they had opened, when Lady Mary had clasped her hand before seating herself in Mr Talbot's car, saying that she had built the most wonderful life for herself.

"We've both come quite a long way. Who would have thought it all those years ago?"

"Not me, m'lady." She smiled when the dark haired woman raised an arched eyebrow towards her. "Mary."

"I still can't believe it about Lady Grantham," she uttered, referring to the elder of the two, glancing upwards to meet her husband's eyes, "it feels like a dream. A very strange one."

"It's a long way off yet." He paused for a while, book pages down on the bedcovers. "She might – "

"Don't say it," she gasped.

"I was going to say that she might make other plans."

He chuckled and Anna also laughed in relief. It was difficult to think of the Dowager being anything other than immortal.

"I hope not. I'd be disappointed if she did. Even if I'm still a little bit terrified by her."

"I don't think there's a person on the earth who isn't. Certainly not His Lordship."

"I suppose we're in good company then."

The conversation faded out, and she imagined that was the last of it. His hand came to rest on top of hers, his thumb rubbing against her fingers.

"I'm lucky that I'm in the best company that any man could be in."

She basked in the glow of his beaming smile, given much more freely since they had made their own lives here.

"There's lots to happen before then," he said, quite rightly. "Didn't your mother have a saying about not looking too far ahead?"

"Not that I can recall. She probably would have said something like don't run before you can walk, though that's not quite the same."

They certainly could never have been accused of doing that.

"There's Robbie's first birthday."

She smiled, even as her eyes became a little watery. How had a whole year passed so quickly? It was a little selfish of her but she wanted to keep their youngest a baby for as long as was possible.

"And then just after that…"

His fingers curved around hers and her lips curved as his thumb pressed against her palm.

"Thirteen years," she said, smiling as she thought of the amount of time they had been married. At one point it had seemed impossible that they would ever get to realise the first dream they had shared.

"The best thirteen years of my life," he said, and she heard the catch in his voice, feeling her own heart skipping a beat.

"And of mine too."

They had not always been easy or smooth, but everything they had faced in that time they had done so together, eventually, and it had only strengthened the bond that had already been built on solid foundations.

She reached a hand to the nape of his neck and they shared another kiss, deeper than their previous fond peck. Their smiles and gazes were hazy when they broke apart; she felt as though she was losing herself in his eyes and was doing so quite happily.

"Would it be wrong of me if I tell you about your present now?"

She lowered her head, although she could not find it within herself to chastise him, for she was also planning a little something.

"You've aroused my curiosity now, Mr Bates, so I think it would be very unfair of you not to divulge."

He issued her with a wonderfully mischievous smirk before his expression turned softer, like butter melting upon toast.

"If I was better prepared then I would have had a picture to hand, as my words don't do it justice." He smiled as he could sense her impatience. "There's a little inn just off the coast of Argyll. Not cut off from civilisation or anything…but quiet enough for it to feel like a proper break. There'll be plenty of room for the children, and it was lucky enough to have vacancy at the time of the school holidays at the end of autumn."

"Oh, John."

"I know the weather won't be the best, but it works well with when we're quieter here, and I suppose it's nothing good thick jumpers won't solve."

"Certainly not," she smiled wide, near enough to split her face. "Oh, John, it's perfect. I couldn't have asked for anything better."

"I suspect that you could," he quipped.

She swatted her hand playfully against his chest, before throwing both arms about his shoulders.

"It'll be lovely to be back in Scotland. You can tell the children all about their ancestors."

"And try not to bore them to tears."

She shook her head lightly; no matter all the ways she tried, she would never be able to get him out of his habit of self-deprecation, the quality being engraved on his soul, and one of the reasons why she loved him so.

She then lay her head upon his shoulder, revelling in the peace of the night hour after another busy day and already filled with excitement at the prospect of their family getaway.

"It's only fair that I should let you know about yours," she said after a while had passed, lifting her head so that she could look at him properly, while staying very close by his side. "I've not long ordered it, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the day itself."

She wondered whether a hint – albeit a heavy one – would be enough, as she was rather relishing the look that would be upon his face when he was confronted with the real thing.

"I didn't know until a couple of months ago, but the gift for a thirteenth wedding anniversary is lace."

She smiled as she took his hand in hers, grazing it purposefully over the top of her thigh. It did not sit there at the current moment – she had not been quite that prepared – but it was the place where the garter she had purchased in France many years ago, and which they both loved so dearly, would typically reside.

She hardly needed to say any more, the smirk that sparked upon his lips and travelled up to light his eyes enough reward for the time being.

"It seems like the perfect occasion for a new addition," she uttered playfully, curving yet closer to his side, "and I hope that you might agree, Mr Bates."

The look on his face spoke louder than words ever could, yet he did not keep her waiting for an answer.

"I certainly do," he said, smiling as his hand settled upon the small of her back, and setting his voice lower, so that no smaller ears – though they were all fast asleep - could hear what he would utter next.

"You naughty girl."

A/N: There we are! It's rather emotional to be finishing this fic. It's been a delight to write and bring my headcanon to life. I hope it's been as enjoyable for you to read.

Also, 'a stór' is an Irish term of endearment meaning 'my treasure'.

(I have to confess that it was purely coincidental that I chose the year of their thirteenth wedding anniversary, but when I saw that lace was the traditional gift for it I thought that it was fate, haha)