Hey!
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 5K READS!
I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU AMAZING PEOPLE! !!
YAY!!!
just wanted to get that off my chest....

Ps. Am, don't forget to read 'The Bates's Irish Adventure ' which is posted now..
Anyway. ..

Two days later...
Downton Abbey, The Gardens

Áine strolled down the pathway through the extravagant and enormous stately gardens of Downton Abbey. She held a leather bound sketchbook and some pencils. The others were busy, and she wanted to catch up on her drawing. She was very private about her artwork, and saw her doodles and sketches as a diary of sorts, compiling her thoughts and surroundings in a single volume of once blank pages. She drew everything and anything, from buildings to people to animals to flowers. She found a bench and sat down so that she was facing some roses. She began to draw.

As she liked to keep her drawings private, she hadn't produced her sketchbook in the library in front of the others, despite the ominous bordom which threatened to suffocate her. Aristocratic women really did have nothing to do. The men at least tended to the estate affairs, but the women were stuck in a drawing room to take tea, and talk about shallow things like fashion, and gossip about the wilder members of peerage. Áine didn't particularly like tea, but sipped it slowly throughout the tedious conversations. She didn't have anything against spending a lot of time talking about fashion,- after all she often dreamed of being the next Coco Chanel -, but she felt that the deepest and most learned conversation of aristocratic women should certainly not be 'what one last bought at Selfridges'. As for the thrilling gossip seeping out from England's richest and most powerful families, it would be "enough to shock an American", according to Lady Violet.

Almost an hour later, Áine was putting some finishing touches to her image of a rose in bloom. She glanced past the plant and saw someone by the orchard. She frowned slightly and picked up her things, her natural curiosity (or nosey-ness as Maura calls it) had already taken over. She approached the orchard with care, silently navigating the botanical labrinth of flowers, until she reached the man.He was leaning against one of the apple trees. It was one of the footmen, the younger handsome one, Walter. He was hunched over a sketchbook not unlike her own and scribbling something that she could not see. He was so enthralled by his work that he did not notice her subtle presence behind him. Part of her wanted to make some sound to pull him out of his artistic reverie, but he looked so calm and focused she couldn't bare to.

So instead, she crept back until she was entirely out of sight, but could still see him clearly, and seated herself on the ground. She still had some space at the corner of the page on which she drew the rose, so she decided to put Walter there, to keep her garden adventures together. She began to draw.

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Simon Bricker's Appartment, London

Simon was overjoyed to see Cora. It had been quite a while since they had last seen each other, and he noticed the swelling of her abdomen had grown. They were in the more relaxed setting of the lounge. They sat side by side on the sofa, hand in hand. Silence reigned. But Simon couldn't wait much longer, "So, have you made a decision?"

Cora bit her lip and glanced to the ground. "I feel like I don't know very much about you, and I was hoping that we could spend some time talking about that..." Simon stroked her cheek. "You haven't decided then." She inclined her head away from him slightly and looked fleetingly into his eyes. "Not yet. But I don't want you to go to Egypt. I want the baby to be born in England, and I want you to be reasonably close by. Even if I stay with Robert." He watched her carefully. "Do you still love him?" She didn't reply for a moment. "I don't know. I used to know. I used to know how I felt about you. I used to know what was important. I used to know what I wanted. Now I know nothing."

She looked blankly into his eyes. He stared back. "I know that I love you. I have since I've met you. I always will. And I love our child. And I know that I shall not rest until you and our child are happy. Whether that be with me or at Downton. I ask only to know if you ever loved me." Cora took a deep breath. "Is, is it possible for one to love two people at once? Because I think I do. Who do I love more? I do not know. Who am I happiest with? That too I am ignorent of. My heart says one thing and my mind another. And yet both are split in two. There is even part of me that wants to be alone. That wants to move back in with my mother in America and live the life of an old maid. The only thing that I do know is that I definitely loved you very much, but I do not know if I still feel like that."

There was a pause. "But what about today? For one day will you be my Cora and I your Simon? Can today be a day in which we do not think about anything other than you, me and the baby? Can we make this day our fantasy life together?" He asked. She smiled and moved closer to him. "Yes. A day just for us." He smiled in return and kissed her. "A day just for us" he echoed.

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Crawley House, Downton

There was a knock on the door. Isobel frowned and went to answer it. Dr Clarkson stood at the door. She smiled happily. "Dr Clarkson! Can I help you?" She exclaimed. He swallowed. It had taken a long time for him to pluck up the courage to knock on the door. He had walked up almost ten times without actually knocking, twice that week alone. He had climbed into his car to drive over many times without actually driving. He had practiced what he was going to say in the mirror numerous times. He found telling a patient that they had one week to live much easier than asking Mrs Crawley to dinner.

"Mrs Crawley! What a surprise". She looked at him in wonder, "really? A surprise? This is my house." Dr Clarkson laughed uncomfortably. "Yes, yes, of course". They stood in silence. Dr Clarkson was sweating in aprehension. "Is there something I can do?" Isobel asked, mystified. Dr Clarkson's palms were sweaty. "Amm, yes. Yes, there is actually..." Isobel stared at him. " Which is?" She prompted. It had been a long time since Dr Clarkson had asked someone to dinner, and he just remembered that. His mouth was very dry for some reason. Words became difficult to form. He was tempted to ask for water, but then he would never ask her to dinner. "Dr Clarkson? Are you quite alright?" She asked, concern now lacing her expression.

He was suddenly filled with a burst of confidence. "Yes. Yes, I am fine. I just came to ask if you want, that is if you would like to accompany me to dinner. Tomorrow evening." She smiled. "Of course! Shall we say, seven?" He had never been so relieved in his entire life. She had accepted! "Seven it is. I'll see you then." He grinned. "Wonderful! Good day Dr Clarkson." "Good day Mrs Crawley." He beamed and walked slowly away. Tomorrow evening couldn't come fast enough.

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New York City

Rose strolled down the side walk, daydreaming. She was thinking about clothes, and shoes, and music, and how long it had been since her and Atticus had gone dancing. Maybe they could go that weekend? America was the place to be for new music. And almost as good as Paris for new fashion. But Downton still had a large place in her heart. She had learned to be a Lady at Downton, and Cora had after all been the one to present her at Court. Many good things had happened during her time there. She had met Atticus, she had met lots of people.
Rose was in quite the daze. The side walk wasn't crowded, and at that moment she was passing some almost deserted shops. It was a bakery that she was standing outside. There were lavishly decorated cakes in the window. Wedding cakes and birthday cakes. Chocolate cakes and Victoria sponges. Cakes taller than Sybbie and tiny cupcakes. Cakes of a range of prices, sizes and types. Rose was still daydreaming about Downton, so enthralled by her own memories that she did not hear the person exit the bakery. She did not hear or see him backing out of the building holding an enormous lavishly decorated expensive looking chocolate cake.

She did not notice him at all, until he crashed into her. The cake fell, he fell, Rose fell. Rose and the man found themselves sitting on the ground, covered in delicious cake. Rose knew that the cake was delicious because her face was encased in it, and as she scraped it off she couldn't resist eating some. It was clear enough that neither of them had predicted the cake exploding incident and both were quite in shock. Despite the confectionary horror, Rose began to laugh. Quietly at first, but soon could not control her hysterical peals of laughter. The man joined in, his deep hearty guffaws turning the situation into a miniature harmonic choir.

The man too was slowly removing the sweet offender from his face. "This cake is delicious" he smiled in an oddly familiar American tone. His pearl teeth twinkled in stark difference to his skin, which was as dark as the chocolate cake. Rose smiled back, but wrinkled her nose in wonder. He looked at her more closely. "Lady Rose McClare?" He asked. She grinned. "Mr Ross! How wonderful to see you! It's Rose Aldridge now, by the way." Mr Ross rose an eyebrow, "So you were better off without me". Rose made a futile attempt to wipe the cake from her dress, "well, Atticus and I are very happy" she said, not looking at him as she does so.

"Good. I am glad that you are happily married. I'm sure this Atticus is aware of how lucky he is. What brings you to New York?"

"Atticus and I live here! I should be asking you the same question, you were in London the last time I saw you".

"I've come home for a while. See my family. The cake we now sit in is for my niece's birthday."

"Oh! Give her my deepest apologies for sabotaging her cake! I really was in a whole other world. Daydreaming...."

"The fault was mine. The baker had offered to deliver it, but my pride wouldn't allow assistance."

"I must stop daydreaming though. Funnily enough, I was thinking about jazz when I bumped into you."

"What a coincidence! Here, let me help you up." He held out his hand which she took graciously. "Thank you." She smiled. "You are very welcome M'am". He grinned in return. "Oh! Mr Ross, I was wondering if you were playing here soon?" She asked. He nodded. "I am actually, this weekend at The Palm Nightclub on 53rd street. I'll be playing there every Saturday for the next few weeks." Rose's face lit up. "Oh how jolly! Atticus and I will be sure to attend." "Wonderful. I shall see you both there then?" She nodded. "Indeed. It has been wonderful to see you again Mr Ross."

"And wonderful to see you again, Mrs Aldridge." She giggled at the use of her married name. "Goodbye Jack". "Goodbye Rose".

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Downton Abbey, The Gardens

Walter loved to draw. It was his secret passion. For a time he had dreamed of becoming a famous artist, but going into service was what his parents thought was best. At the family cottage, he would draw and paint his family, house and garden. The gardens at Downton were a lot more extravagant of course, which just made for more exotic drawings. Every day since his arrival, Walter had managed to sneak away from the house and draw in the orchard. His father had gifted him a new sketchbook upon his departure, and he had already put it to good use, sketching trees, leaves and flowers in great detail.

When he was in the gardens he felt at peace, calm and safe. The hectic atmosphere of the servants hall and the kitchens were a world away from the utopian beauty of the gardens. It was though he was the only person in the universe. So calm, silent but for the sweet music of the birds and the whistle of the wind through the trees. Silent but for the angelic singing of a young woman. Walter grabbed his art equipment and scrambled to his feet. Singing! Who was it? He quietly crept towards the sounds.

"If you were the only girl in the world and I were the only boy
Nothing else would matter in the world today
We could go on loving in the same old way....."

Her voice rang out sweet and wonderful. Then he caught sight of her. He hid behind a tree and poked his head around the side to catch a glimpse of the singer. It was her. Áine was singing in the gardens, with a sketchbook tucked under her arm and pencils sticking out of her hair in the most adorable and beautiful way.

"A garden of Eden just made for two
With nothing to mar our joy
I would say such wonderful things to you
There would be such wonderful things to do
If you were the only girl in the world and I-"

She stopped when she caught sight of him peering around the tree trunk. She propmtly pulled the pencils out of her Wave and flung them and the sketchbook into a nearby bush, silently praying that she would be able to find them later. Then she straightned her skirt and coughed awkwardly. "Amm, hello. Walter isn't it? You can stop hiding behind the tree now". He grinned and stepped into view. It was probably in that moment that she noticed how handsome he was. She felt herself blush and anxiously fought to conceal it.

"And you can stop hiding your sketchbook now" he said softly, walking over to the bush and retrieving the items. He handed them to her with a smile. She smiled back, not looking him directly in the eye. "Thank you." "You are very welcome Miss." There was silence for a moment. "You have a very beautiful voice." He said. Áine glanced down at her toes in embarrassment. "Thank you. I, I saw you drawing earlier."

"I'm sure that you can do better."

"I doubt it. Have you retreated to the calm of the gardens too? I feel as though it is the only place in the Abbey where I can think."

"I feel the same. The servant's hall is always so noisy and busy."

"The silence in the library is deafening. Here there are birds and an interesting aura of peace that cannot be found indoors."

"I often come out here, and I was quite surprised to hear singing by someone other than a bird."

"I don't usually sing, when I am in the gardens. The birds usually do it for me."

He caught her eye and smiled. "Don't tell the birds, but I would rather listen to you sing." She blushed again, thoroughly unused to complements. She quickly changed the subject. "May I see your drawings?" She asked. He inclined his head as though considering the notion carefully. "Only if you show me yours". Áine paused at that. She never showed people her drawings, they were private, they were her feelings and emotions on paper. They were for no one's eyes but her's. The silence spoke louder than words. "I understand if you don't want me to see them. I used to hate people looking at my sketchbook, it was like an invasion of privacy. I'll still show you mine if you want." He said.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I would love to see your drawings, and maybe some day show you mine,but right now we both must hurry. Tea will soon be served." Walter turned and saw the garden clock that Áine was looking at. "Goodness you are right! We must hurry! I enjoyed speaking with you Miss, and hope to find you in the gardens again some time." She smiled at him. "Of course. Oh, and if I am to call you Walter can you please call me Áine? Otherwise it seems so formal." He nodded. "Of course, Áine. Good day." He began to walk away. "Good day, Walter" she replied with a grin.

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Upstairs, Downton Abbey

Cora had gone to London for a few days to go shopping. Although he was fairly sure that he loved her, Robert was beginning to think that she was better off with Mr Bricker. Would it not be easier for them both to go their separate ways? Then again, he had given her his word, and promised himself, that he would raise and love the baby. And he would. The child would be a Crawley no matter what. But, he was starting to doubt if he really loved Cora. Didn't he? "Don't I?" He asked himself aloud. No one was around to hear him muttering to himself. He sighed before wandering into the smoking room.

It was empty except for a maid. When he entered she paused suddenly. The door hung open. "I'm sorry Sir, I'll be on my way" she said, her head bent. She took her things and headed for the door. As she rushed past him, he touched her waist to stop her. "Jane?" He asked. "I needed the work M'Lord. I wouldn't have come otherwise" she replied. His grip on her waist tightened. "I'm glad you came." He whispered. She looked into his eyes. "I have missed you." She whispered in return. As he gazed deeply into her eyes, he melted. Cora no longer mattered. He knew that he had not felt like he did with Jane, when he was with Cora. Not for a very long time.

As he gazed into Jane's eyes, he fell in love. She stared just as deeply and breathed softly out. Robert did not wait a moment longer before kissing her. The door closed.

So um.....
Something longer to keep you going....
I finally have a plan for this story and a proper ending..
There will be 53 chapters so, still a good bit to go..

THANK YOU FOR READING! ! ! !

Also, there was some weirdness with the last chapter bits were missing and such, I have no idea what happened so...

Am, okay,

{SaskatFishcakes } xxx

CAST
Lady Grantham ~ Elizabeth McGovern
Mr Bricker ~ Richard E Grant
Lord Grantham ~ Hugh Bonneville
Charlie Carson ~ Jim Carter
Elsie Hughes ~ Phyllis Logan
Thomas Barrow ~ Rob James-Collier
Miss Baxter ~ Raquel Cassidy
Mr Moseley ~ Kevin Doyle
Mr Bates ~ Brendan Coyle
Anna Bates ~ Joanne Froggatt
Lady Mary ~ Michelle Dockery
Denker ~ Sue Johnston
Spratt ~ Jeremy Swift
Lady Edith ~ Laura Carmichael
Henry Talbot ~ Matthew Goode
Daisy Mason ~ Sophie McSherra
Mrs Patmore ~ Leslie Nicol