Downton Abbey Fanfiction

¤Twenty - four¤

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."