*- These characters, with the exception of Harry Crawley, belong to Julian Fellows and Carnival Productions.

*-Based on what spoilers I know of Edith’s story line for the 4th series.  If you prefer to withhold reading until the series has ended, I understand.


“Mama, look” Harry proudly showed her the tower of blocks he had constructed.

Edith smiled approvingly on her son.

Within a moment, the tower crumbled to the floor and Harry eagerly began to rebuild.

As much as Edith loved her son, she knew of the realities of his life. It was true that he was the grandson of an earl, but he also a bastard.

While his cousin would one day become the Earl of Grantham and inherit both the land and the family fortune, Harry would have to make due with much less.  Her London flat was far from the glamour and prestige of her childhood home.

It was a simple flat, containing two bedrooms, a kitchen and living room. There were no housemaids to do the cleaning or help them dress, no nanny to take care of Harry while she worked and no Mrs. Patmore to do the cooking. Edith did it all and surprised herself how accustomed she had become to doing it without help.

Not that Edith was without support. Robert and Cora loved their grandson and were willing to support their daughter. But outside of the confines of the Abbey, she knew that they would be confronted with whispers and stares.

“There goes poor Lady Edith” they would whisper “First she is abandoned at the altar and then she finds herself pregnant by her married editor”.

“You don’t have to leave, there is room enough for the both of you” her mother pleaded when Edith announced her decision to leave Downton permanently.

“I know, Mama, but we can’t stay in Yorkshire”.

“There will be a little bit of money, your welcome to come home whenever you want to”.

“Thank, you papa”.

Edith watched her parents become smaller and smaller as the train left Downton. London was the best place for her and Harry.  She could work either from home or at the office; Aunt Rosamund was more than willing to watch Harry if she was needed.

In London, the gossips focused their attention elsewhere. She was simply Edith Crawley, journalist for the Sketch.  The fact that her father was an Earl or that her child was born out of wedlock was unimportant.

But still something was missing and that was Michael. But she knew what she was getting into when they started this relationship.  The only thing that was unexpected was their son.

“Mama sad?” Harry put down his blocks and crawled to his mother, noticing the tears beginning to dot her eyelashes.

“No, darling, mama is not sad”.

“Mama, love”.

“I love you too” it was hard to deny that Harry was Michael’s son. Harry had the same inquisitive brown eyes, the blond curls that flopped in between his eyes.  On Michael it was sexy, on Harry it was adorable.

Edith didn’t know when or if Michael would ever return. But she would carry on as she did before Michael, surviving and living her life as she knew how.


*-The only character that I own is Mrs. Morton. They belong to Julian Fellows, Carnival, etc.


From the time she was a young girl, Elsie Hughes knew that she had two choices in life.

She could, as her mother and grandmothers did before her, marry farmers and spend their lives as farmer’s wives.

Or she could enter service.

Service was a promising career for a young woman with an instinct for hard work and a drive to succeed.

So she did.

From the age of seventeen, Elsie rose through the ranks of several large aristocratic houses, starting from maid, to head housemaid and then to housekeeper.

Two years ago, an offer came her way. Mrs. Morton, the longtime housekeeper at Downton Abbey, seat of the Earl of Grantham in Yorkshire was retiring. The Countess of Grantham and her mother in law, the Dowager Countess, could rarely agree on anything, but they agreed that replacing Mrs. Morton would not be easy. Unbeknownst to Elsie, her former employer, a Marchioness in ______shire had submitted her name for the position. The interview and the following job offer was a shock, but it was an offer that she could not refuse.

The position and duties were satisfying. The house was large, but not too large for her to manage. The butler, Mr. Carson, though stuck in his ways, was not impossible to work with.

The Earl and Countess had three daughters. The eldest, Lady Mary, at age ten, was far too impertinent for a girl of her age. The middle daughter, Lady Edith, at age 8 was forever fighting with and trying to outdo her eldest sister. The youngest daughter at age 5, Lady Sybil, was a sweet girl who was curious about the world around her.

Elsie could have married at any time; there was no lack of eligible and interested men.

But she was happy with her choice. Some women were meant to marry and have children, but for Elsie, her life was in service and that was just fine with her.

I Will Always Love You

*-I Will Always Love You” Is by Dolly Parton. Lady Mary Crawley, Matthew Crawley and Lavinia Swire belong to Julian Fellows. Set in early series 2. Neither the song or the Downton Abbey characters are mine and no copyright infringement is intended.

 *- In light of Whitney Houston’s recent passing, I thought this song was a perfect for a Mary/Matthew fic.

 *Thank you to Sara (MrsBates93) for beta reading.

  I Will Always Love You

 There were two faces to Lady Mary Crawley. There was the confident, in control Mary that she had perfected years ago. Then there was the inner Mary, the one with the loving heart that was worn on her sleeve, if anyone had bothered to notice.

 If I should stay,
I would only be in your way.
So I’ll go, but I know
I’ll think of you ev’ry step of the way.

 It had been two years since she had spoken to Matthew. Two years since she let him walk away. They might have married or have had children by now, if had she said yes. But it was too late; he had moved on with his life and brought his fiancé, Miss Lavinia Swire to meet the family.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.
You, my darling you. Hmm.

 Mary loved Matthew; he was the only man she would ever truly love. His fiancé was amiable and sweet and seemed overwhelmed by the possibility of her future life. But as Mary Crawley did best, she put on a proper smile and greeted her cousin warmly.

Bittersweet memories
That is all I’m taking with me.
So, goodbye. Please, don’t cry.
We both know I’m not what you, you need.

 She missed Matthew, she missed their talks. There were few people whom she could talk so openly with. He respected her opinions and did not avoid certain subjects because she was female.

 But Matthew deserved happiness and if Lavinia made him happy, she would not stand in their way. He also deserved a wife who had not allowed her lust for a stranger ruin her reputation.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.

I hope life treats you kind
And I hope you have all you’ve dreamed of.
And I wish to you, joy and happiness.
But above all this, I wish you love.

They would have a beautiful life and beautiful children. Their son would one day become the Earl of Grantham.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I, I will always love you.

If loving Matthew meant letting him go and be happy, then so be it. It was better to have loved and lost than have never loved at all. Mary would always love Matthew.

You, darling, I love you.
Ooh, I’ll always, I’ll always love you




These characters belong to Julian Fellows, Carnival, etc.

 The Baby Of The Family

Sybil Branson was dead. Her last gift to the world was her daughter, who would be named for her mother.

Her husband, Tom and her family watched as her body convulsed uncontrollably. Then she was gone.

They wanted to believe it was simply a bad dream. They would wake up tomorrow and Sybil would be alive and bonding with her new daughter.  

But they were not dreaming. Sybil was dead, her warm smile, her spontaneous laughter, her passion was all a memory.

Her elder sisters, Edith and Mary, who could never resist an opportunity to argue with each other, were silent.

 Even her grandmother, the towering and sharp tongued Dowager Countess was at a loss for words.

In the servant’s quarters, they also remembered Lady Sybil. The elder servants remembered her as a vivacious and inquisitive child, always curious about the world around her. The younger servants remembered her as warm and giving, never cruel or manipulative as some of her class could be.

The next morning, Mary could not contain her tears. She had never been one to cry, even as a child. But today she cried, for the loss of youngest sister, for her niece who would never know her mother.

“Mary, my darling” Matthew held her as she cried.

“I miss her”.

“We all do, but for Tom, we must be strong. He will need all of us in the coming days”.

Mary knew that her husband was right. She would wipe her tears away and remember Sybil as she would have liked to be remembered.

The church was full. Mary and Edith sat next to each other, taking turns holding the baby. Though they didn’t speak, but they were of one mind. Their niece would never feel the loss of her mother; they would make sure that Sybil would be known to her daughter.

Robert and Tom were also of the same mind. They both loved Sybil dearly and they loved her daughter. Whatever disagreements they had, that was the past. It was time to unite, for both Sybil and her daughter.

There was nothing any of them could do now. What was done was done. Their focus was now Tom and baby Sybil, to provide and love and support that Sybil, with her last breath, wanted them to have.

What they didn’t see what the shimmering light in the corner appear and disappear. Sybil was watching over them, waiting for the day when they would join her in the next life.

Fifteen Years Later

“Sybil, dear, don’t run” Without looking up, Cora knew that the quick footsteps on the rug in the library belonged to her eldest granddaughter.

“Cora, let her be”.

“How are you, grandfather?”.

Robert would never admit it publicly, that Sybil was his favorite grandchild. His daughters made him a grandfather five times over. Mary and Matthew had three children and Edith had one, marrying Sir Anthony after he proved himself worthy of her, despite leaving her at the altar less than a year before. But Sybil was his favorite because she was the mirror image of her mother.

“I am well, my dear. Thank you for brightening an old man’s day”.

“Grandfather, you are not that old”.

Before the conversation could continue, another pair of footsteps was heard on the rug. Tom and Matthew entered, allowing the footmen to take their coats.

“Tom, there you are. How was the train?” Cora asked.

“No more than usual”.

“Sybil, your aunt has been anxious to see you. Why don’t you join her for a bit?”.

“Yes, Uncle Matthew” Sybil ran up the stairs with the same exuberant energy in which she entered the library.

“I’m glad both of you are here. Cora and I want to show you something”. Unearthed nearly a year ago was portrait painted many years ago of Mary, Edith and Sybil. It was portrait of three innocent young girls, of a simpler time and place.

No one noticed light that shimmered above them in the afternoon sun. Sybil was still with them, watching and smiling.

The end

She- An Anna Smith and John Bates Fanfiction

*-These characters are not mine, they belong to Julian Fellows.

 *-The main POV is from Mr. Molesley.

 *-Thank you to Sarah for beta reading.


She is amiable, strong, loving, never without a kind word, even to those whom she dislikes.

 Anna Smith is the woman I want to marry.

 But she is with another.

 Her beautiful blue eyes sparkle at the mention of his name; their eyes never leave each other when they are in the same room.

 He walks with a cane; she deserves a man who is not beset by physical deficiencies.

 John Bates, valet to his lordship, sits down on the other side of Anna. He takes her hand in his under the table, they don’t speak to each other, but their eyes speak volumes.

 He is far too old for her, Anna deserves a younger man. He has a criminal record; Anna deserves a man who has not been to jail.  He has been married before; rumors are that his former wife is not a pleasant woman. I have no history to hold me back.

 They are to be married; I wonder if Anna’s parents know of the man they will soon refer to as their son in law.

 I was sent to the village by Mrs. Crawley, when I see Anna and Mr. Bates leaving the post office.

 Her arm is wrapped around his, they are both smiling.

 John Bates is a lucky man, I hope he appreciates her. If not, then I will be there and Anna Smith will love me as much as I love her.

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