Funny In Her Own Way

An Edith/Anthony fic

Preface

Edith Crawley had always been an avid reader.

As long as she could remember, the literary world had been a stupendous distraction - a way to escape the modern world for a time, to get away from the reality of her own existence.

She loved books because they afforded her imagination the means to run free, and that the words, once read, stuck with her. Words on the page were one thing, but after her brown eyes cast over them, understood them, she could hear them in her mind whenever she chose.

Edith Crawley knew that this was not always a blessing.

"I'm afraid you must."

The words that she had come to despise echoed in her head for the umpteenth time, a frown pulling at her thin lips. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. The book she held in her hands had done as she feared - nothing. Nothing to distract her from the gentle, but firm voice of Sir Anthony Strallan that echoed once again in her mind.

She heaved a sigh, putting a marker in the book and setting down on the table beside her. Standing up, she straightened her long skirt and walked towards the window.

Thoughts of Strallan still haunted her, and she well knew that they were not about to stop.

I'm not ready...She thought, staring out at the overcast sky. Her bare arms prickled in the cool air that came off the window, and she absentmindedly rubbed them with her delicate hands. I'm not ready to give up.

But in the weeks that had followed her visit to Sir Anthony's estate, her hope for their once budding romance had begun to dwindle. She had spent Christmas and New Year's at Downton without much of anything going on. The servant's ball had been the beginning of a new series of investigations for the trial of her father's valet, Mr Bates, and not too long after, Mary and Matthew had announced their engagement to the family.

Mary and Matthew. She thought with some disdain. Though was it disdain, she asked herself, that she felt when thinking about her older sister and cousin finding their happiness? It was a feeling closer to sadness, that reached into her heart, gripping it with cold claws and reminded her that she was still alone.

And I was so close.

She shook her head, taking a step back. It had been Mary's fault, the end of her relationship before the war, but she could no longer blame her older sister for her unhappy state. The war had changed many things, and it was the war she truly blamed for her separation from Anthony.

Anthony...

Her brown eyes threatened to well with tears as her mind replayed their conversation again.

But Edith Crawley would not cry.

Pursing her lips, she walked away from the window, and out of the library. The sound of her heels were muffled by the carpeted floors as she made her way up the main staircase and down the hall to her room.

Light poured into the room from the tall, thin window. A small desk sat next to the large pane of glass, on top of which a pile of paper sat, and an unmistakable pile of crinkled paper next to the stack of pristine white stationary. Edith sighed, wandering over and picking up one of the crinkled pieces.

To Sir Anthony

How have you been? It seems too long since I saw you last, and -

She stopped reading after the first line, knowing that all of them said the same thing. The last couple of weeks had been busy in the house, preparing for the marriage between her sister and Matthew, and had left much time for her to spend on her own. Trying to write letters to a man who wants nothing to do with me. She thought bitterly, discarding the paper on the floor. Her hope had been fading fast, and though her heart was broken, her brain refused to give up.

Edith smiled to herself at the thought. I'm not giving up. She reminded herself, and sat down at the desk. Her pale hand picked up the pen that sat next to her inkwell. Without hesitation, she set about writing a letter to Sir Anthony, though unlike its failed predecessors littering the desk, this letter was filled with purpose.

A slightly manipulative purpose, but Edith Crawley had a plan.

"I don't accept a single word of that speech."

"I'm afraid you must."

No Sir Anthony, I do not.