5th August 1914

"Sir Anthony Strallan, for Sir Richard."

The housemaid stepped back and admitted him with a polite smile. "Good morning, sir."

"Oh, Sir Anthony!" Lady Carlisle's surprised voice made him look up to where she was coming quickly down the stairs, baby in arms. "Were we expecting you?"

"I telephoned your husband very late last night, Lady Carlisle, and he very kindly agreed to spare me five minutes of his time."

"Oh, call me Mary, please." Guiding him into the sitting room and shutting the door behind them, she added, "I understand that this family has a lot to thank you for, one way or another."

"Not at all." He nodded at the baby. "Congratulations. Miss Victoria, is it?"

"Yes." Mary's rather sharp face softened. "Victoria Mary. Her papa insisted."

The door opened at that moment and 'Papa' walked in. Kissing the baby's forehead and brushing a warm thumb over the crease where his wife's neck and shoulder met, Sir Richard smiled at Anthony. "Strallan, hello. Apologies for my tardiness."

"Not at all - your wife was keeping me very well entertained."

"And now," Mary said to Richard, "Victoria and I will leave you to your meeting." She kissed his cheek, and gave Anthony a thin smile. "Goodbye, Sir Anthony."

"Lady Carlisle."

In the hall, Mama waited for her. "Did I hear Anthony Strallan's voice, Mary?"

Mary nodded. "Yes. He's here to talk to Richard about something. Looked rather anxious, Heaven knows why." A thought struck her. "You don't think… well, you don't think it's something to do with Edith, do you?"

Mama's face lit up. "Oh, I do hope so! To have all of you settled… it would be such a relief!"

"Well, I suppose she has made herself terribly useful to him." A little grudgingly, Mary admitted, "He's making a sensible decision."

He climbed out of the car just as Locksley's front door opened - and all his weariness melted quite away. Edith stood there shyly, but as he walked towards her, a smile crept on to her face. He stretched out a hand to her, and she took it, and lifted it to her mouth and kissed it, eyes closed.

"You considered, then?" he asked.

"For all of ten minutes," she teased gently. "It was all I needed."

"I'm much older - " Anthony reminded her.

"Not terribly much. Only enough to make me feel safe." Edith had started speaking before the last syllable had quite died from his lips. "You always have done, you know."

"Till I die, I'll be in harness to the estate - "

" - which I love."

"There's Pip." He did not know why he felt so compelled to continue offering excuses as to why she should turn tail and run. Edith was clearly tired of them, however, because she pressed a gentle finger to his lips, silencing him.

"You know I adore him." She blushed. "And… and he'd make a splendid older brother, down the line. I think. If you wanted a… w-wife. More little ones."

"My dear girl," he sighed, half-exasperated, his eyebrows lifted, making him look even more owlish than usual, "what on Earth do you think we've been discussing, if not marriage?"

As he spoke, he led her inside, towards the library, his hand warm and solid against the small of her back. "Well," Edith reminded him carefully, "you've not directly asked me." Chewing her lip, she whispered, "I… didn't want to presume anything."

"We're at war. I'm going away to fight, for God knows how long." Anthony's thumb stroked along her spine. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait, until after all this horrid business is done with?"

"You are going away to fight," Edith agreed simply. "And I know you say you'll be careful, but I also understand that you might not be able to be." She leaned back to fix him with a serious expression. "And… and if that's the case, then I don't want to be… kept out of things. If you were hurt, I'd want the telegram to come to me, I'd want to be the first to know." She swallowed noisily. "Of course, I very much hope that none of this is going to be necessary, but… I want… some legal part in your life, if the worst should happen."

"And what if it does?" Gently, he pressed, "If… if I were - badly wounded, say, or - or killed - "

"It won't change the way I feel." Her voice was firm and did not shake, despite the tremor of horror that had run through her at his words. "Even if we weren't engaged, I would still want to mourn you as a woman mourns the man she would have married. A ring and a few words won't make any difference to me, to us, but they will to whatever low-ranking staff officer deals with paperwork and telegrams about soldiers who are injured or missing or…" She stopped, her hand drifting up to his cheek. "Anthony, please understand what I'm trying to say."

He exhaled, loudly. "All right. But… if anything should happen… if you change your mind, all you need do is tell me, and I'll release you, immediately. I promise."

"And I promise that I am absolutely certain about you." She took both his hands in hers. "I can think of nothing I want more than to be your wife. Honestly."

"Well… in that case." He searched her eyes for a moment longer, and then their hands still linked, knelt in front of her. "Edith Margaret Crawley, will you please consider consenting to be my wife?"

Her face was solemn as she bent and kissed him, soft and sweet and full on the mouth. "Yes," she whispered as they parted. "I'd be honoured."

He stood, a little dazed. "Good Lord," he murmured, after a moment. "I haven't a ring to give you." In all the fuss and commotion of London, and the various errands he had to run, he hadn't even thought of it.

"I don't care about a ring," she reassured him.

He rifled around in his waistcoat, and drew out his pocket watch. "Well… just until we can find you something more appropriate, will you take this from me instead?"

Edith's fingers brushed softly over his as he surrendered the metal into her hands. "I will take anything you're willing to offer me."

They stood looking at each other rather shyly for a moment, and then Edith let the slow, brilliantly happy smile that she had been holding in spread full across her face. Without warning, she threw her arms around him.

Anthony laughed, and held her close. "Happy, sweet one?"

"Blissful," she murmured into the collar of his jacket. "Just blissful."

"And you're sure? Not just… avoiding breaking a serving soldier's heart?"

Edith clung to him, her feet nearly off the floor, rejoicing that, at last, after so long spent wanting and waiting and desiring him, she was allowed to do this - to hold him so close and so tight, and feel his embrace and his kisses in turn. "Never. I feel as if… as if I'm living in a lovely dream, and I never want to wake up."

"Mama, Pip…" Anthony announced at breakfast the next morning. "Mrs Crawley and I… have some news for you."

"Oh?"

"You're not leaving again?" Pip worried.

Edith laid a reassuring hand on his. "No. Q-quite the opposite, in fact. A couple of days ago… your Papa asked if I'd - if I'd like to marry him. And I said that I would."

Pip threw his arms around her shoulders; Lady Strallan exclaimed aloud with joy. Edith caught sight of Anthony and he was grinning, broad and proud as punch.

"Oh, my dears - such lovely news! Have you a ring?" Lady Strallan asked, her sharp eyes scanning Edith's fingers.

"Not yet," Anthony intervened. "We haven't had time to - to sort that out."

"I don't mind - I've told you," Edith reassured him.

"Nonsense." Anne's voice was very firm as she rose from the table. "Just give me a moment…"

A few minutes later, she returned, holding a ring box in her hand. "Here," she smiled at Edith. "A family heirloom. Most appropriate, even if it wasn't originally intended as an engagement ring. And it will suit your hand very nicely, I think."

Edith opened the box, and Anthony looked over her shoulder. A slim gold band topped with a row of shining rubies winked up at her. "Anne…"

"This was Grandmama's, wasn't it, Mama?" Anthony asked, his arm around Edith's waist.

"Yes. The finest piece of jewellery she owned. A gift from her papa when she married."

"Oh, but - but shouldn't it go to Mrs Chetwood?" Edith worried.

"Diana'll get plenty of other nice pieces in my will. Besides, I've always been of the opinion that jewellery should be shared out between all the women of the family." Kissing Edith's cheek, she winked, "And when you're old and grey, my dear, you can pass this particular trinket on to your daughter."

"Well, sweet one?" Anthony murmured into her hair. "What do you think?"

"I love it," Edith whispered, letting him slide it carefully onto her left hand. This done, he lifted it to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. "Thank you."

"And thank you, for saying yes."

Pip piped up, "Will I still have to call you 'Mrs C' after you marry Papa, Mrs C?"

Edith laughed and kissed the top of his head. "I shouldn't think so, no. What should you like to call me, my dear?" she asked, amused.

Pip hesitated, then leant up to close the scant inch between his mouth and her ear, and whispered something that the others could not hear. Edith drew back, blinking away a tear or two. "I think, my darling," she sniffed, "that that will do very nicely indeed."

"And, as an interim measure," Anthony added, "what about 'Aunt Edith'?"

"'Aunt Edith'," Pip mused aloud. "I like that."

"And so do I," Edith agreed. "Now, isn't Veronica expecting you at Orton Park this morning?"

"Mmm. I'd better go." At the door, he asked, "Can I tell her and Lady Flora about you and Papa? They'll be ever so pleased, won't they?"

"Well, I hope so!" Edith chuckled. "Yes, if you like."

Pip hugged her again, bumped a rough kiss to her cheek, said, "See you later, Aunt E!" and dashed for the door.

As his footsteps clattered down the passage, Edith called after him, "But… tell them in confidence, hmm?!"

There was no reply. In dismay, she looked at Anthony and wondered, "Are we making it very public yet?"

Anthony squeezed her hand. "My dear, I want to shout it so loudly that everyone from here to Kirby Moorside knows about it." At Edith's anxious face, he softened. "Look, we'll… tell a few people and just let the news… filter out naturally, hmm?"

"Yes," Anne agreed helpfully. "From what I've heard, no one will say anything worse than 'Whatever took you so long?', I promise." She kissed Edith's cheek and then Anthony's. "Congratulations, darlings. Now, I'll leave you to your morning's work."

"When I'm in London next," Anthony added, as his mother slipped from the breakfast room, "I'll put a notice in The Times."

"Heavens," Edith murmured as Anthony led her into the study. "I haven't even told Mama - or Richard!"

Anthony bit his lip. "Will you be frightfully cross if I say that he already knows? When I was in London, I… called on him."

Edith blinked up at him. "Oh. You… you asked his permission?"

"Yes." He kissed her forehead. "I wanted to do things properly for you, that's all. And I know he takes a keen interest."

"What did he say?"

"That it was your decision, and he'd back you to the hilt whatever you said." One side of his mouth quirked up. "Much less frightening than it was asking Maude's father for permission to marry her."

Edith kissed his cheek. "Good. So… that's that. Engaged. It seems you've thought of everything."

"Yes," he nodded, and turned to her desk, where a neat manila folder of paperwork rested. "I hope that I have."

Following his gaze, Edith wondered, "What's all this?"

Anthony gave her a slightly anxious smile. "Just… some paperwork I'd like you to sign, before I go."

Edith sat down slowly in the chair that Anthony pulled out for her. "I… see. What sort of paperwork?"

Anthony reached across her and opened the folder, tapping the first document with one long forefinger as Edith reached for her fountain-pen. "A document giving you power of attorney for important decisions here - the estate, the bank, the other properties, Pip's schooling, my investments - you'll need to sign that one." He set it aside and tapped the sheaf below it, at least five documents which had been pinned together with an India tag. "Copies of some letters I've written to the relevant people, directing them to take their instructions from you. And…" He stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lifted them aside to reveal the final piece of paper. "A document making provision for you, as my fiancée. I thought… well, better sooner than later, in case of… of accident."

"Provision?" Edith swallowed. "As in… money?"

"Yes. Look, I know your father didn't leave you… well off. I - I'd like to see you secure."

She looked up at him, bewildered. "Secure?"

He nodded silently. Edith searched through the paperwork, scanned her eyes down one of the thick sheets and then her mouth dropped open. "Three thousand pounds?" she squeaked. "You want to settle three thousand pounds on me?"

He shrugged, a little sheepishly. "Yes. It would have been more - but I didn't think your pride would let you accept it."

"Well, I'm not going to accept this, either!"

"Oh, yes, you will," Anthony replied firmly.

"No! I won't!" She flew up from her seat, looking utterly panicked. "Is that what you think I want from you? Your fortune? Anthony - "

"No, no, absolutely not." His hands settled gently on her elbows, holding her still. "I don't think that at all. But… I would like you to - to come to this - this marriage with some measure of independence. Everything is in your name, signed over irrevocably. Please?"

Edith tugged herself out of his grasp and looked over the papers spread out in front of her. "But the estate… surely you can't just remove so much money from it all at once - "

He chuckled. "You tell me. You manage the accounts. You know - probably down to the last farthing - exactly how much I'm worth."

She folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed. "What if you need it?"

"I shan't."

"But - "

"No ifs, no buts." He held out the pen to her insistently. "You're my fiancée, and I will act as I see fit where your interests are concerned to ensure that you are secure."

Slowly, Edith lowered herself back into her chair. "Whatever will your mother say about it?"

"When I told her, she wanted to know why I was being so miserly with you, and stomped off to the archive to look up her marriage settlement. She's sure my father was more generous with her."

Edith's lips quirked at that, but it was still a faint, anxious smile. "But I… I can't offer you anything in return."

"I don't ask for anything." He lowered his voice and added, firmly and insistently, "This will be a marriage of equals, Edith. I won't have people thinking I've manipulated a powerless, penniless woman into matrimony!"

"Oh." Suddenly everything became clear. "I see. I suppose, when you put it like that… well… all right." She sighed. "I - I suppose I can bear it."

Anthony kissed her cheek affectionately as she began bravely to sign. "There, there, my dear. Cheer up." His smile became wicked. "You ought to get used to being taken care of, because once we're married, there'll be a horrid old monthly allowance, too…"

A soft hesitant knock on his bedroom door roused Anthony from - well, from abject sleeplessness. He was caught exactly halfway between misery and bliss - bliss that that lovely girl down the corridor, whom he had adored for years, wanted him precisely as much as he wanted her; and misery that all too soon, he was to be torn away from her, for what could be years, if Mayhew's predictions were correct. It seemed… so very unfair - for her, as well as for him. If he weren't only too aware of what could happen once he left for the Front - death or injury or worse - then he'd marry her tomorrow and hang the consequences.

Stumbling to the door, he pulled it open to find the object of his thoughts standing there, coppery hair loose about her shoulders, with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders over her nightgown, and bare toes that she was anxiously crimping into the carpet outside his door. "Sweet one? Is something wrong? What time is it?"

She shrugged, giving him a shaky, embarrassed smile. "Late enough that propriety dictates I shouldn't be here. But - but I had to come to speak to you."

Confused, he stepped aside, leaning his head out of the door to check that the coast was clear. "Then you had better come in."

Hesitantly, she stepped past him into the bedroom. It was a masculine room, all crimson walls and dark wood fittings - an oak four-poster in the centre of the room, piled with the eiderdown and blankets and a comfortable mass of pillows. Books and papers cluttered the bedside table - the one place she never got in to tidy. It was so thoroughly Anthony that she instantly felt herself beginning to relax, her shoulders coming down from around her ears, her breath steadying itself.

Anthony took her hand and led her to the wide ottoman at the foot of the bed. He sat, and Edith, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, propped herself on his leg, so that she were almost sitting in his lap. His arm curved round her, holding her steady, and Edith nestled her head against his shoulder. It felt so natural - to hold him, to be held by him. Oh, how had she gone without this for so very long? They sat there quite silently for some minutes, until Anthony kissed the side of her head, and murmured, "Better, my darling one?"

"I… I've been sitting alone in my room thinking until I thought I should go mad and I…" Her voice, already quiet, broke off.

Anthony swallowed. "You've come to tell me that you've had a change of heart."

"What?" She lifted her head, a deep frown settling on her brow. "No! No, not at all. I came because… because I can't bear to be without you tonight." She blushed up at him. "Please? Let me stay with you tonight? Just hold me, like you did that night in London?"

"Are you sure? If someone walked in…"

"I don't care." She sighed. "After Friday, you'll be gone for goodness only knows how long. I've had my fill of being cautious and I - I want to make the most of the time we have with each other."

His eyes were solemn as he watched her. He knew very well what he should say - he should politely and kindly remind her that this could very well turn out to be something she would regret, kiss her goodnight and send her off to her own bed. The only problem was… his heart agreed with her, even if his head didn't. And - looking at the anxious frown creasing her brow - he realised that she needed this, this reassurance, before he went away. "Very well," he agreed at last. "If you're sure, my darling."

"I am." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you think me terribly wanton?"

He shook his head. "I think you're terribly lovely." Gently, he stood, bringing her to her feet with him. "Come on, then."

Carefully, he peeled back the bedclothes and Edith slid in, stretching her toes into the warm patch he'd left. "Mmm," she sighed contentedly, closing her eyes, and she felt him getting gingerly back into the bed. The eiderdown shifted as he folded it carefully back over himself, and reached up to switch the bedside light off, and then they lay there together in silence. After a moment, Edith rolled over to face him. There was a clear two handspans of space between them. "You're very far away," she observed in a whisper.

Anthony turned his head to look at her. "Am I?"

Edith nodded and as she did so, Anthony rolled and came to rest next to her, his hands on either side of her cheeks. "Better?" he murmured and Edith nodded.

Gently, he bent his head and kissed her. What started off gentle and sweet, however, soon progressed into something much more passionate. Anthony's hands buried themselves in her hair, and Edith's slid up to his shoulders; his tongue trailed along the bottom of her lip and sucked hard, making Edith groan. "Anthony… yes…" he heard her breathe.

Anthony kissed her forehead - really just a press of his lips to her skin - and reached for her hand as he rolled away again. Dazedly, she blinked up at him.

"Why did you stop?" she breathed. "Did I - do something wrong? S-something you didn't like?"

His face creased with sympathy. "Oh, sweet one, no," he sighed, and she thrilled, as she had been all day, to hear him call her that. Sweet one, so affectionate and natural and… oh, perfect. "You're lovely, and quite possibly the most distracting creature I have ever met. I adore you - but while kissing might just be permissible outside of wedlock, those sorts of kisses are only going to lead us to places we shouldn't go before we're married."

"You could, you know," Edith whispered to the ceiling. She shrugged her shoulders against the mattress. "It wouldn't be as if you were - were taking my innocence. Anthony… you could have all of me tonight, if you wanted."

Anthony tugged her closer until her head rested on his chest, swallowing away the thick desire clogging up his throat. "You're far too precious to me. Besides, when we make love for the first time, neither of us will be leaving this bed for at least twenty-four hours afterwards - and just now, we haven't that sort of time."

"Anthony…" Edith covered her face with a hand, but it didn't stop him from seeing her smile and her sheepish blushes.

He tugged at her wrist, baring her face again, and brushed a strand of Edith's hair away from her cheek before kissing her very chastely and carefully, shaking his head as he did so. "You deserve so much more than - than some hasty, ill-advised… tumble… before I march off to war." Even in the half-light, she thought she could detect his blushes. "I worry that…" His fingers lingered over the patch on her cheek where Michael had left her bruised as he reframed what he was about to say. "I want you. To borrow your phrase, I find you wildly attractive. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I adore and respect you." He smiled. "And because of all those things, I'm not going to bed you until you're my wife."

She half-sat up, biting her lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't think at all about how difficult this would be for you. I was being selfish. I should probably go back to my own room now." Edith reached for the corner of the quilt, ready to throw it back, and found Anthony's hand stopping her.

"No!" Reassuringly, he reached out and brushed a fond hand against her cheek. "No, my sweet one, not at all. This - " (he gestured between them) " - is very nice. But… I want you to be sure that you can trust me."

"I do trust you." She frowned anxiously. "But… men… have needs, don't they?"

Anthony's eyebrows flew up almost into his hairline and he laughed. "Nonsense," he snorted. "Or… nonsense in the way you mean it." He kissed her fingers. "Look, if I can't lie in a bed next to you at night without behaving like a boor, then you have worse things to worry about than my 'needs', I assure you. I promise you, my darling, respecting you isn't difficult at all. The last thing I'd ever want to do is make you uncomfortable, or let you believe that the only way to be close to me is… is like that."

Edith rolled to look up at him. After a long moment, "I never slept with - with him," she confessed. "I mean… I never… fell asleep with him. He - he was always too anxious that the housekeeper or the housemaid or - or anyone else would… walk in and find us and tell his father-in-law what was going on." She rolled her eyes. "So… we'd… you know… in his bed, and then… I'd go back to my own room to sleep." She chuckled. "After that, there's nothing you could do that could make me feel in any way uncomfortable. I promise."

"Oh, my sweet one…"

Edith shook her head. "No. Don't be sad. I'm not. If I hadn't worked for Michael - if I hadn't needed to get away from him… well, I might never have met you. And I could never regret that." Quietly, she confessed, "I don't think I've ever been so happy in my life. Is that terribly selfish, at a time like this?"

"You're the least selfish person I've ever met." Anthony tucked her close into his side and kissed the top of her head. "But… there's an east wind coming, my sweet one, I won't deny it."

Edith wiggled her cold feet between Anthony's and snuggled close. "Then we shall just have to keep each other warm, won't we? As best we can."