Edith: Episode 7 – The Letter

 

DSC04407When Rosamond arrives at the Dower House in Ripon, the butler, Sprat, joyfully ushers her to the sitting room to have tea with her mother, the Dowager Countess of Grantham. Sprat pours tea, then lingers. “Thank you Sprat. That will be all,” the Dowager Countess nods, hinting to Sprat that the conversation will not begin in earnest until his curious ears leave the room. Sprat sighs as he exits the room. The Dowager Countess rolls her eyes, feigning exasperation, with pleasure.

“So, my dear, what pleasantness brings to you visit me today?” the Dowager Countess asks her daughter.

“Mother, I must know: Do you know the whereabouts of Edith?” Rosamund counters.

The Dowager Countess replies, “Heavens Rosamund! Stop talking in riddles. Get to the point.”

Slowly and firmly, Rosamund asks, “Do . . you . . know . . the . . whereabouts . . of . .Edith?”

“Well, let’s see,” answers the Dowager Countess pondering with an air of innocence, “about 16 years ago, she left a note saying that she was leaving. I don’t believe that the note said where she was going.”

“Mother, I know where she is and I’m wondering if you know as well. Perhaps your friend, the Russian Prince, mentioned something to you?”

“Oh, why yes – I do remember, vaguely, someone mentioning something about Edith,” the Dowager Countess says – feigning recent recollection.

“Mother, have you told Robert and Cora that you know where their daughter is?”

“Oh dear, Rosamund. I have not told them. I know Edith wants to remain separated from the family, so as long as she is managing, I will honor her wish. I’ve been giving Kurigan a small sum every week to pass on to Edith and Marigold. She believes the money represents a portion of the proceeds from sales of his paintings. My dear, it is best that we hold the secret in our hearts. Besides, it’s always good for a Crawley to have one or two secrets tucked away,” she says with a wink.

After dressing for dinner, Rosamund and the Dowager Countess join the rest of the Crawley family for dinner at Downton Abbey.

Dinner is delicious, but uneventful. No one reveals a scandal. No one utters a curse word. No sauce is accidentally spilled. Then the Crawley family retires to the sitting room, lounging about.

Mr. Carson enters sitting room. “I’m sorry to intrude My Lord, M’Lady. But a letter has arrived – for Edith. I thought you would want to see it at once,” Mr. Carson says as he hands the note to Lord Grantham.

Lord Grantham opens the envelope, reads the note, takes a deep breath, looks up, and exhales as his eyes meet Cora’s. “It’s from Michael Gregson. Apparently, he had to fake his death in Germany. He escaped to Morocco and wants Edith to join him there.” Reading from the note, he continues: “I know much time has passed, and I would understand if you moved on and married another man and raised a family. I know I should wish that for you, but my deepest hope is that you have continued to hold me in your heart as I have never ceased holding you in mine. All my love, Michael.”

Amused, Mary laughs, “The one man who loves Edith wants her to be a spinster, and every other man who’s met her shares that sentiment. It’s dreadfully hopeless.”

The Dowager Countess, cautions, “Mary, stating the obvious makes you appear dull.”

“Oh Granny,” Mary continues smugly, “I daresay we should avoid dredging-up the whole ‘lost Edith’ thing again. Let bygones be bygones. Besides, she’s been on her own for so long, she has probably forgotten how to properly use a fish fork. If Michael saw her now, he would hardly want to keep her.”

Lady Cora replies, “Mary, we’re talking about long-suffering love, not dinnerware. But I don’t like the idea of Edith running off to Morocco. Isn’t it full of foreigners?”

Always helpful, Tom interjects, “They’re actually called Moroccans, and since they are now a French protectorate, I’m sure you’ll find that they are quite civilized.”

The Dowager Countess chuckles to no one in particular, “How, exactly, does one where a fez-beret?”

Robert, Earl of Grantham, ends the conversation, “I quite agree with Mary. There’s no point in disrupting our lives trying to track down Edith again. It’s time to move on – for us and for Gregson.” And with that, he tosses the note into the fireplace, where it gently glides down, landing just to the side of a flaming log.

“What’s that?” the startled Dowager Countess exclaims, “I thought I saw a black llama through the window.”

While everyone except the Dowager Countess and Lady Rosamund rush to the window, the Dowager Countess flicks the note from the fireplace with her cane. It lands near Lady Rosamund, who cautiously tamps the red-hot edges with her shoe, then carefully places the charred note in her petit purse, unobserved by the llama-seekers.

After several minutes of looking out the window for the llama, the group returns to the sitting area. It would not have been astonishing to see a llama, since several tenants were raising alpacas and llamas – thanks to the foresight of Tom and Mary into a growing trend of exotic pets.

As the evening comes to a close, the Dowager Countess and Lady Rosamund take their leave.

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