A/N: It seems to me that Fellowes wanted to accomplish a few things with Edith's story this season: 1) emotional trauma after being left at the alter, 2) emotional growth as a result of getting away from her family/spending time in London/focusing on something other than her lovelife, and 3) an eventual happy ending with her endgame love interest. My argument is that all of this could have been accomplished with Strallan as her endgame and without him leaving her at the altar. So here's basically what I would like to have seen happen. Michael Gregson will be appearing, but as we haven't seen him yet, mine will probably be a completely non-canon treatment of his character. Here we gooo.

1. A Clouded Mind & a Heavy Heart

April 1920

Anthony Strallan's lungs were full of the sea air and his ears were full of the delighted screams of children playing on the deck. He was headed for a season of Italian sunshine and churches and galleries—a restorative tour for an old man. Everyone would suppose he had gone abroad for his health. In truth, he had never felt so ill in his life as he did now, standing at the rail of the steamer and watching the waves roll beneath him, and it had nothing to do with seasickness. Somewhere in Yorkshire, the loveliest girl in the world was probably crumpling his letter in her fist, or tearing it to pieces, or throwing it into a hungry fire. He hoped he had ended it quickly enough to spare her real heartache, but if he knew anything of Edith Crawley's heart, he could be sure he had damaged it.

It was entirely his own fault. He ought to have discouraged her, but he was a man of flesh and blood. Faced with her determination and her winning smiles, and that tiny, stolen kiss, his resolve had crumbled. Of course it was wrong; of course her father disapproved—what father wouldn't when a crippled old man courted his daughter?

The only way to truly end it was to go abroad. If he stayed in England, Edith would only appear at his door, and he could not trust himself to resist her. With real distance between them, Edith could forget him. She would find someone her own age, someone who could share her life instead of stifling her spirit. Listening to the children, to the laughter of a young woman, to the footsteps tapping against the deck, Anthony felt more keenly than ever that his life was over. He would spend the rest of his days attending concerts, looking at paintings, watching the young dance at parties, always the passive observer of life and never a participant. That was old age, that was his future. He had no right to force Edith into that quiet, whiling-away sort of living. He shut his eyes against the sight of England slipping away in the distance.