Downton Abbey 1. Chapter 1

**Why don't you want me?**

Sir Anthony Strallan felt very uncomfortable. After a long discussion his sister had convinced him to join her and her friends for an evening at the opera. He hadn't been out and about since this miserable event, his nearly second wedding. Of course, he had attended dinners given by his friends as well as some private concerts or readings. He had spent time in his club in London and had joined one or the other friend lunch, but carefully he had always tried not to appear in public too much.

It's was his way to avoid every kind of gossip, as far as this was possible. And it's was his way to avoid a meeting with Edith, Lady Edith, too.

Now, on this evening, all his efforts seemed to be crossed. It had been right after the overture, just before the great entrance of the tenor, when he felt that someone was looking at him.

For satisfying his curiosity he had avert his attention from the stage and had glanced across the dimmed auditorium. A wrong decision. His eyes met hers and for a moment the world had been spinning. Sir Anthony nearly gasped as he recognised Edith Crawley sitting in a box directly opposite the one he was sitting in.

Her sad, mournful look had been a stab in his heart. He was responsible for this, he knew it, but it was all for her good.

The orchestra started to play the most famous aria from the opera given on this evening and it came at once in Sir Anthony's mind that this melody had been played during the first concert he and Edith had attended together.

She remembered it, too. He was able to read this in her face, in her looks. She tried very hard not to appear reproachful, but she couldn't hide her sorrow.

The man sitting next to her turned his attention to Lady Edith. He sent a smile towards her, took her hand and placed a slight kiss on it.

Anthony felt another stab. He immediately tried to repress this upcoming feeling of jealousy – and lost. Who was this man? Why did he accompany Edith? As much as he had avoided any meeting with Edith as much he had tried not to listen to any rumours about her. An idea he now regretted. Maybe this man was the perfect suitor Anthony had had in mind for her… although he didn't like it. What mind he now whispering into Edith's ear? She smiled to the stranger, but it wasn't the honest smile Anthony knew so well.

Edith's attention had returned to the singers, but Anthony wasn't able to avoid looking at her. Had she ever been so beauty, so vivid? Her new haircut suited her very well and her dress was not only perfect, but simply stunning.

Another dress came in his mind. He saw Edith walking down the aisle in her lovely wedding dress, He swallowed. Guilt and a sudden blur of tears forced him to look in another direction.

The audience thanked the tenor for his version of the particular aria, but Anthony couldn't remember any note. His thoughts were bended on another topic. It was a whisper by his sister that brought him back to the performance.

"It is said that he will sing for His Majesty next month", she said. "Something religious, I think…"

"Oh, really", Anthony pretended interest. He whispered back: "Don't you think that his top notes show that his voice isn't in the best shape?"

"Is everything alright with your ears?" Anthony's sister was significantly annoyed.

The music of the next scene saved from him an answer.

Later Anthony fled from his sister's anger during the interval while he pretended that some fresh air was necessary. He knew that she was keen on preventing any cold weather.

It was raining outside. So, Anthony decided to stay in the foyer. It was crowded, but he had found a small space next to a column. Hiding himself there, his thoughts still wandered around the unexpected meeting with Edith.

He was so deeply lost in his mind that nearly missed the familiar voice.

"I didn't know that you are back in London," Edith greeted him silently and added a polite "How are you?"

"I am fine… Lady Edith," Anthony answered struggling with the formal salutation.

She looked so fragile that he longed to wrap his well arm around her. But this wasn't his right any longer.

"Do you enjoy the opera?" he asked her instead.

Edith's glance clouded, but she banished every feeling from her voice. "Yes, thank you…," she hesitated, too, "Sir Anthony… The performance is quite enjoyable."

Her hands slightly trembled, but her attitude was as ladylike as one would expect from an Earl's daughter.

"Are you here with your sister?" he asked. Anthony had heard, what had happened to Edith's younger sister, but he didn't dare to ask about it.

"No, Mary stayed at Downton. I am in London on my own, seeing my editor. He invited me to join him tonight."

Her editor. Now knowing, who the man was, Anthony felt relief and didn't know why he felt this way. It was a relationship, but as it seemed only business relation. Perhaps he had misinterpreted their familiarity as intimacy.

"Anthony, a thing that has puzzled me for a while…" It must be an important matter Edith wanted to talk about because in the fever of excitement she forgot to address him formal. "Why…"

The bell cut her words. In addition, it made her changing her mind.

Instead of asking her question, she said hastily: "I better return to my seat before I miss the second act."

Anthony answered with a slight bow. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, E… Lady Edith."

She looked at him dolefully. "And you, Sir Anthony," she replied and hurried away.

Fleet-footed she climbed the few steps to the landing, where she was awaited. _Her editor_ leant over to her and whispered something in her ear. Edith answered him with a giggle. Her eyes smiled at him as she took the arm he offered.

Anthony's heart beat to the neck and he felt quite miserable.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you very much for your lovely reviews! No, this isn't an one shot. There will be some more chapters, but right now I'm not sure how many. There will be much "hurt" for our souls, before we'll get some "comfort". Despite this I hope you'll enjoy reading this story. XXX_

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After this evening Anthony did what he had already done after the broken wedding ceremony. He hit in a library. This time it wasn't the library in Locksley, but the one in his London home.

Every invitation receiving was denied. The letters by his sister were answered in a very short way. Anthony hit himself from the world outside and especially from Edith.

Anthony never blamed somebody else for his misery, but himself. He had had a comfortable life. After his long mourning for Maud he had finally settled in his life as a widower. He had become a well-respected neighbour at the Yorkshire countryside, someone, whom people asked to join dinner and shooting parties; a book reading, hayseed person being a bit boring, but entertaining enough to be invited for tea regularly. Anthony had been happy with the situation.

It had been his pride, a kind of foolhardiness that had got him into this mess. Anthony had been very flattered when the Crawleys implied he could be a possible suitor for their daughter. Lady Cora's hints had been promising, but Anthony had realised fast that Mary Crawley herself wasn't in slightest way interested.

Anthony hadn't been sure, if he felt his honour and manhood wounded. In addition, he had to admit that he had actually been more flattered by the idea of being _a possible suitor_ than he had been interested in Lady Mary herself. He never liked her attitude and behaviour. In fact, he never liked her.

It had been a half-hearted attempt of performing well and being polite, when he invited her to the ride with his new car – and she had even used this situation to stab a further dagger in his heart.

Despite the point that the verbal barbs Mary Crawley had sent towards him such a long time ago still hurt, Anthony smiled in remembrance of that day. She might never know this, but it had been the start of one of the best times of his life.

He remembered Edith stepping in for her sister. Anthony had never been sure, if she had been simply being polite, if she had been ashamed about her sister's behaviour or if she had really been interested in spending some time with him, but actually he never cared.

Edith was a wonderful person. Similar to Maud she was a hidden flower. He found her ingenious, enthusiastic and outgoing. She was incredibly funny, but also very good in hiding all these qualities. Anthony never understood why no one in the Crawley family was able to see all the amazing attributes of Edith's character.

Anthony still felt ashamed that he had let her down on this first afternoon of the war and that he had believed her sister without speaking with Edith about the things he had heard. But in the end this was the only thing he regretted about their relationship and all the things which had happened.

He was still convinced that his decision about their marriage was right. Although he was sure that maybe Edith would never understand completely, why he had made the decision to leave her, from his deep conviction Anthony knew that it had been the only right decision.

Conviction was one thing. The heartache he felt, when he saw or even thought of her was another.

For days, even months he was able to think of Edith like of long gone summer day. In these moments he smiled about the things they had seen or done. But sometimes he suddenly wasn't able to hide the feelings sleeping deep inside him. Then he missed her, missed her smile, her jokes, her presence.

Since he had met her at the opera, Anthony wasn't able anymore to return to the comfortable distance. He wanted to talk to her, but he would never allow himself to contact her. He wanted to walk whole London just for an accidental meeting, but he stayed at home, hidden in his library.

He was an adult, a well-to-do gentleman, not an adolescent longing for a particular suitor.

Why did it hurt so much?

It had hurt in the same way the days after the broken wedding, but Anthony had always known that this punishment was right because he had cleared the way for her to bloom and shine.

The door bell hindered his thoughts to be dragged deeper in the maelstrom of accusation and justification.

Who could this be? Anthony had given all his servants including his butler the afternoon off. Nobody knew that he had been at home, except his sister. But she thought he was lying in bed, ill.

The bell rang for the second time. It sounded somehow impatient.

Reluctantly and with a sigh Anthony left his armchair to open the door by himself.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Ladies, due to this admin, who is a real miracle worker *praise*, I'm finally able to present the next chapter of this story. In addition I'll be able to continue this Andith version of mine soon. :-))) *happyhappyhappy* Thank you for your patience!_

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It was a bit like in a bad written novel. After long hours, which Anthony had spent shifting between doubt and confidence it was Edith standing on the threshold of his townhouse.

"We have to talk," she simply said. "I know that you don't want to, but if we both want to cope with the things happened than we must talk."

She was so self-assured, so serious about the topic that Anthony didn't dare to object. He invited her in and guided her into the library.

"I'm afraid," he said, "I can only offer you some cold tea. All my servants are out for the afternoon…"

Edith didn't refer to his words. "Books," she noted and turned to him. "Isn't it funny? If I think of you, I always think of piles of books, too. And here you are, in a library… your library."

"Edith…" Anthony stepped towards her. "Maybe we should simply say, what we both might have to say and then go separate ways again."

His words hurt her deeply. He was able to recognise this in the sadness of her eyes. But it was the best of her to forget him and to move on.

"Is it that what you want?" Edith suddenly asked and Anthony realise that he had spoken out his last thoughts.

She fought the tears welling up. As she had planned this confrontation she had been determined not to beg or to cry. The only thing Edith wanted was to let Anthony know what - in all his nobility - he had done to her and how she felt about it.

"Why don't you want me?" she finally simply asked. "What is wrong with me that you can't bare the thought of us being happily married?"

Her up front words made him speechless. He struggled with the answer for endless seconds.

"Edith," he replied in the end. "We have already spoken about this. You need someone else, someone who..."

"Oh, stop it." In the anger in her voice puzzled Anthony. Edith saw his surprise and paused.

No, she wouldn't shout or rebuke Anthony. Edith took a deep breath and set down on the ottoman next to the armchair. She tried the most ladylike expression in her repertory. It worked for her parents and even for her grandmother. Surely it would also work for Anthony.

"I tried, you know. I really tried to do, what you decided for me… But it didn't work," she told him.

"And you are successful," he remarked. "Your articles are published."

Edith sighed. She looked out of the window for some seconds. "My life is interesting and, yes, I'm quite successful for a writing woman, but…" She would try to sell her matter to him like she sold the latest book by her friend Lydia Grayson to the publishing house. "A lot of the things I did, many things I experienced were thrilling or at least interesting," she admitted. "But they are nothing against the one thing I really wanted."

A pause ensued. Edith sat bolt upright on the ottoman. She had chosen her dress well. Its light colour and the boyish style flattered her appearance. Anthony thought that she was even more beautiful than she had been during their engagement period. It was this aura of confidence and intellect, which made her so attractive. But nevertheless…

"You know, Edith, that this one thing is unreachable for us. I can't do this to you." Anthony couldn't remember how often they both discussed this topic. He had once yielded to her ideas about their relationship, about being a happy couple. This time ended in the disagreeable occurrence he didn't like to remember to.

"You didn't answer my question, Anthony," Edith insisted.

"Your question?"

"Yes. Why don't you want me? And don't tell me again about you being crippled in need of a nurse more than a wife. As far as I know you didn't employ a nurse so far." The sound of her voice was surprisingly calm. Somehow she managed to cover her mental excitement better than she expected.

"It was not about this," Anthony admitted. "Not only. Edith, I want you to shine, to live a life worth your youth and your stupendousness, to have all the opportunities these times offer to you."

She looked at him and the expression of her eyes was so miserable that Anthony wasn't able to stand her look. "It is lovely that you want all these things for me," Edith finally answered. "But why don't you allow me to make my own decisions? However, I tried to live this life you wanted for me, Anthony."

She stood up and went the few steps to close the distance between them.

"I really tried, but there was no young suitor, who offered the world to me. Many men of my age died during the war or returned more crippled than you. Physically and/or mentally crippled. Most of the men available neither like my character, nor do they see any beauty in my appearance."

Anthony wanted to make an objection, but a gesture by her let him remain silent.

"And even if this war never had happened, no man would be able to care for me or to fulfil my needs like you."

Edith reached her hand and touched his cheek slightly.

"Why don't you want me, Anthony?"


	4. Chapter 4

_Anthony couldn't remember how they ended up in his bedroom, in his bed together. He felt Edith's undressed body close to his own. Her head rested on his chest. Her breathing was calm and regular, but she was awake. He felt her finger circling on his shoulder._

"_I have to marry you now," he told her while he tried to feel more guilt than pleasure._

"_Don't be silly", Edith murmured. She sighted and huddled deeper against him._

_Automatically Anthony put his good arm around her. All of his senses discerned her. He felt her warm skin, smelled the slight note of her perfume. His eyes caught the light glowing of her hair in the twilight of the room._

_He placed a kiss on her forehead._

_A further pleased sigh answered him. "We should have done this earlier", Edith said. "Let us never leave this bed."_

"_Never, my darling", he promised._

A sudden noise made Anthony jump. He looked around and realised that he was alone in his bedroom.

Where was Edit gone? Had she been with him anyway?

Slowly the memories on the passed day returned. Anthony rubbed his face – partly to wake up, partly to dissipate the dream he had just enjoyed.

Nothing of the just experienced intimacy had been real. It had been a dream only.

Edith had gone away hours ago.

Before she left, Edith had kissed him passionately and he hadn't been able to resist. But in the end he hadn't been able to give in, too. Her desires had remained unfulfilled. She had left his house feeling miserably failed and without an answer to her question.

Anthony felt guilty. He was guilty of letting the woman down, who was fighting so desperately for his attention, as well as of dreaming of the same woman in such an inappropriate manner.

He blushed with shame. Unquestionably he was far too old for such feelings.

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Edith was unable to sleep that night. She sat upright in her bed for hours. Her thoughts wandered around.

Had it been right to confront Anthony with her feelings? Had it been too bold to kiss him?

Again and again she felt lips touching his. She felt him kissing her in return. There had been his arm holding her tight. For a tiny moment there had been nothing but them. Edith put every good memory in her kiss: their first ride with his car, the concert they had attended together, their first kiss, their reunion, his proposal. But in the end this moment ended too soon. Anthony had insisted on his view. He still felt too old, too ill for being her appropriate companion.

Nothing had changed.

Unlike after her wedding that had never happened Edith didn't cry. All tears she ever had had for Anthony had already been cried long ago. They had been gone like the self-pity, in which she had hidden herself after that terrible day.

Edith felt drained, but she couldn't find the sleep she urgently needed. Her visit in Anthony's London home had been well planned. She had known that all his servants had been out. Her dress had been chosen very well. Even the seduction had been choreographed minutely detailed. The only detail Edith hadn't thought of was Anthony's constancy.

It was always so easy to seduce Michael, her editor. Every idea from which book ever worked on him. It had been this easiness that had made Edith thought that she would win Anthony back by sexual attraction.

She had been close to win this battle in the afternoon. His body had told her more than Anthony was willing to admit, but in the end his mind had won over his senses. With gentle force he had broken their embrace. He had let her go without any further words, but some formal ones.

He had sent her home without an answer to her question.

Edith knew that she would survive this further rejection, but she would never give up loving him.

She sighted. Life could be so easy. Why did Anthony make it so difficult for both of them?

In former times a solution for woman crossed in love had been to enter a convent. Now, in the 1920s Edith was able to live her life as free as she wished. Nearly as free as she wished. She had done some things her parents and especially her grandmother better didn't know. Her close relationship with Michael Gregson was one of these things.

_I have to end this_, Edith thought suddenly. It was impossible to be close to Michael, when she tried to win Anthony finally back. Her quest might been hopeless, but she wouldn't get another chance, if Anthony would learn that she was closer to her editor than decorous.

Edith lay down and pulled the blanket close.

Sleep. She desperate needed some sleep. The sun would rise again soon and Edith was so tired. But her heart was still pounding.

_You have given me back my life_, Anthony's voice whispered from a time long gone.

Her answer now was a sobbing. No, she wouldn't cry. She would be strong.

Finally Edith found peace in Morpheus' realm. She fall asleep at dawn and dreamt some really silly things.


	5. Chapter 5

Anthony wasn't able to find sleep again that night. Finally he put his dressing gown on and went downstairs. Maybe in his library he could find some advice. Surrounded by his books he felt safe and confident. It was like a shaven, a refuge, where he could hide away from the world outside.

Maud had always understood this. She had never entered this world of his.

Edith was different. She had chosen this room to face him. There had not been any coincidence neither in this choice, nor in time and date, nor in her appearance. He should feel cornered, but he couldn't. His hope that she had given in had failed. Edith was a fighter and she seemed to be extraordinarily stubborn. She was so unlike Maud.

Yes, she was different, but this was one reason why he loved her so much...

Anthony followed this thought for a moment. Yes, he loved Edith. The fact itself didn't surprise him. He knew it, but he also knew that it would always be wrong to give in to these feelings.

In another life he and Edith would be friends for the rest of his life, but he had been weak, when he should had been strong. He had proposed to her instead of standing for his view and... he had left her in front of the altar.

Anthony could not understand why Edith still wanted to be with him. It was wrong, so wrong.

His heart ached. He knew deep inside that in none his books would lay an answer to his dilemma.

He loved her, but he was still convinced that there was no future together for them. Edith earned to shine, not to waste away at his side. Why did she refuse this?

In the end, there was one thing he earned her. He hadn't answered her question.

Knowing that he would never be able to give Edith this answer face to face without falling under her spell again, Anthony set down at his desk and started to write a letter to her.

_Dear Edith,_

He hesitated for a moment. Was it right to address his letter in such a less formal way? It was.

_Dear Edith,_

_I never dared to think that I would ever write a letter or even send you a note._

Anthony hesitated again, read the words just written and put the sheet away. He sighed. There were a lot of things to say, but he wasn't sure, if it was right to write them down.

_Dear Edith,_

_So many words were written in human history, so many questions - important and unimportant - were answered._

_When you came to my house in the afternoon, you brought a question with you. I can't answer this question. It is not because I don't want to, but because I think that your question is not the right one._

_There are no thoughts that I don't want you. I told you that you had given me back my life and it is true. There were only a few occasions when I have felt so full of life like during the time of our engagement. _

_But it is simply not right when I would disentitle you of all the wonderful things, which are promised for your future. I tried to tell you this many times and you denied wanting this just as often. Even now, I am able to see your dear face while you read these lines. I know what you will answer me, but I ask you, beg you to believe my words._

_You would be bored soon. Bored of the life next to the old, tired cripple I am. You are such a gifted journalist. Your articles are so full of life. What should the issues to write about be, when you were forced to spend your days with someone, who is – according to your family – as dull as paint?_

_My love,_

The pen in Anthony's hand trembled. He stopped writing. Could he risk revealing the affection he felt for her? He decided to continue.

_I never dared to think that I would ever write a letter or even send a note to you again. There are many things I wish to say, but I don't have the right to voice them._

_Undoubtedly, I let you down, not only on the day, when I walk out of the church leaving you alone in front of the altar. I let you down earlier: when we met again at your grandmother's house, when we continued our excursions by car again, when I proposed. I was so flattered by your attention and by the things you saw in me that I forgot to meet my responsibilities. Deep inside I hope that you will forgive me this one day._

_In addition, I hope you will live the life that you deserve with a man, who is able to offer you the world. I will watch you from distance and will always remember the gentle kindness you offered me._

_Anthony_

He put the pen away, read the lines again. Finally, he put the sheet in an envelope and wrote Edith' name on it. He left the envelope in his writing case. Anthony already knew that he wouldn't post this letter, but he felt relieved that he had written down all this. Perhaps he would read it again one day.

Due to some business matters, he was leaving London later that day and wouldn't return before the end of next month. He tried very hard to convince himself that he wasn't running away. The trip to Germany was planned long time ago.

After the breakfast he finished an urgent letter to business partner, which he left on his desk. His butler would order one of the maids to post it.

When he later entered the train, Anthony still thought of Edith. For sure, it was the right decision to remain silent. After his return he would travel to Locksley and would spend the rest of his life in his precious library.

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_A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews! I'm sure you won't like me after this chapter, but I promise that our couple will get an happy ending. So, please don't give up reading..._


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Downton Abbey, Drama, Romance