*April 19, 1912 - Crawley House*
Josh descended the stairs for breakfast, his mind still partially occupied with the events at the Bingham cottage the previous day. The encounter with Alice had been reckless, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it entirely. In his previous life, he'd been far too cautious, too focused on his career to embrace such moments of passion. This life was different.
"Good morning," Isobel greeted him, already at the table with the morning post. "You're up early again."
"I want to check on a few patients before the regular hospital hours," Josh replied, pouring himself coffee.
Before they could continue their conversation, Matthew appeared, looking pleased with himself.
"You're in good spirits," Josh observed.
"I had an excellent day at the firm yesterday," Matthew replied, helping himself to eggs from the sideboard. "The partners seem impressed with my work already."
"Of course they are," Isobel said proudly. "You're brilliant at what you do."
"Actually," Matthew continued, "I've been invited to visit some of the local churches this weekend. Apparently, Lady Edith offered to be my guide. She heard I have an interest in church architecture."
Josh hid a smile. So Edith was making her move, just as he remembered. "That's very kind of her."
"Yes, though I'm not sure why she'd bother. I can hardly be interesting company for an earl's daughter."
"Don't sell yourself short," Josh advised. "You have plenty to offer."
The morning post included a note from Downton Abbey—an invitation for Josh to join the family for luncheon that day. Apparently, Lord Grantham wished to discuss some estate matters with him.
"How's that for timing?" Josh said, showing the note to his mother. "I was planning to visit Downton today anyway. I wanted to properly introduce myself to the staff."
Isobel raised an eyebrow. "The staff? That's rather unusual, isn't it?"
"Perhaps," Josh admitted. "But they're an essential part of Downton. If I'm to understand the estate, I should understand everyone who keeps it running."
"Your father would approve," Isobel said with a fond smile. "He always said a doctor should know the names of every hospital porter as well as he knows his fellow surgeons."
After breakfast, Josh made his way to the hospital for a brief morning round. Dr. Clarkson updated him on their patients, particularly Tom Bingham, whose recovery continued to impress the older doctor.
"I've never seen infection reversed so quickly," Dr. Clarkson admitted. "Your technique was quite remarkable."
"Just a matter of thorough drainage and proper antiseptic procedure," Josh replied modestly. "Anyone could do it with the right training."
"Nevertheless, I think we may have saved more than Mr. Bingham's leg. We may have saved his life."
Josh felt a twinge of guilt at the reminder of his inappropriate behavior with Alice Bingham, but pushed it aside. He had helped Tom, regardless of what had happened afterward.
By mid-morning, he was on his way to Downton Abbey. The day was pleasant, spring sunlight warming the Yorkshire countryside as Josh walked the path from the village. He could have taken the car, but he preferred the exercise and the chance to gather his thoughts.
As he approached the great house, he was struck again by its grandeur. Downton Abbey rose from the landscape like something from a fairy tale—golden stone walls, towers, and turrets gleaming in the sunlight. It was magnificent, imposing, and soon, it would be his responsibility.
He was admitted through the front entrance, Carson receiving him with formal dignity.
"Dr. Crawley, his lordship is expecting you. He's in the library."
"Thank you, Carson. Actually, I was hoping to pay a visit to the kitchens after my meeting with Lord Grantham. Would that be possible?"
The butler's bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. "The kitchens, sir?"
"Yes. I'd like to introduce myself properly to the staff. After all, we'll be working together for many years to come."
Carson looked momentarily nonplussed by this unusual request, but quickly recovered his composure. "Of course, sir. I can accompany you there after your meeting."
"Thank you."
Josh found Robert in the library, surrounded by estate papers and looking somewhat harassed. The Earl brightened at his entrance.
"Joshua! Thank you for coming. I hope you don't mind the short notice."
"Not at all. Happy to help in any way I can."
Robert gestured to the paperwork spread across his desk. "Estate matters. Normally I'd handle them with my agent, but he's away this week, and there are decisions that can't wait."
Josh took a seat, and for the next hour, they discussed tenant issues, crop rotations, and building repairs. Josh was careful not to seem too knowledgeable—that would raise suspicions—but he offered thoughtful suggestions based on his "reading" and common sense.
"You have a good head for this," Robert said approvingly as they concluded. "Better than I expected, if you don't mind my saying so."
"I take it as a compliment," Josh replied with a smile. "Though I still have much to learn."
"We all do," Robert sighed. "The estate is constantly evolving, presenting new challenges. Sometimes I think my father had it easier."
Their conversation was interrupted by Cora's entrance. She was dressed for the day in a lovely pale blue gown, her dark hair perfectly arranged.
"I hope I'm not disturbing," she said warmly. "Carson mentioned you were here, Joshua, and I wanted to invite you to stay for luncheon. Mary and Edith are out riding, but Sybil will join us."
"That's very kind, thank you," Josh accepted.
"Actually, I'm glad you're here," Cora continued. "We've just had word that Evelyn Napier will be riding with the hunt next week, and the meet will be at Downton. I've invited him to stay with us."
"Evelyn Napier?" Josh feigned ignorance. "I don't believe I know him."
"The Honorable Evelyn Napier, Viscount Branksome's heir," Robert explained. "Pleasant young man. He's been quite attentive to Mary recently."
"I see," Josh said carefully, feeling an unexpected twinge of... what? Jealousy? Surely not. "Will he be coming alone?"
"That's just it," Cora replied. "He wrote to say he'll be accompanied by a friend, a Mr. Kemal Pamuk, an attaché at the Turkish Embassy. They're in London for negotiations about the independence of Albania, apparently."
"If Napier wants to bring his friend, we can hardly refuse," Robert added, though he didn't sound entirely pleased by the prospect.
"Of course not," Cora agreed. "If the price of Napier is the presence of this Mr. Pamuk, then I'll invite them both. Mary will join the hunt, of course."
Josh kept his expression neutral while his mind raced. So it was beginning—the sequence of events that would lead to scandal and heartache for Mary. He needed to find a way to intervene without being obvious.
"I hope you'll join us for dinner while they're here," Cora was saying. "Perhaps you could ride with the hunt as well?"
"I'd be delighted to dine with you," Josh replied. "Though I might have to skip the hunt. Hospital duties, you understand."
After their meeting concluded, Josh asked Carson to show him to the kitchens. The butler looked somewhat perplexed by the request but complied with his usual dignity.
The scene belowstairs was one of controlled chaos. Mrs. Patmore was directing preparations for luncheon, her voice rising above the clatter of pots and pans. Daisy scurried about, following orders with nervous energy, while footmen and kitchen maids attended to their various tasks.
The arrival of Carson with Josh in tow brought everything to a momentary standstill. Mrs. Patmore turned from the stove, her face flushed from heat and exertion.
"Mr. Carson? What's this?" she asked with characteristic directness.
"Dr. Crawley wishes to introduce himself to the staff," Carson explained, his tone suggesting this was an unprecedented occurrence.
Josh stepped forward with a warm smile. "Please, don't let me interrupt your work. I simply wanted to meet everyone properly."
He moved through the kitchen, introducing himself to each staff member, asking their names and how long they'd been at Downton. His manner was friendly without being overly familiar, showing genuine interest in their responses.
"You must be Mrs. Patmore," he said, approaching the cook. "I've heard your cooking praised most highly."
Mrs. Patmore looked surprised but pleased. "Well, I do my best, sir."
"I also wanted you all to know," Josh continued, addressing the room at large, "that as a doctor, I'm available if any of you should fall ill or suffer an injury. Please don't hesitate to send for me. Your health is important."
This announcement caused a stir among the staff, who exchanged glances of surprise. Such consideration from someone of Josh's position was unusual, to say the least.
"That's very kind, sir," Mrs. Hughes said, having entered during his speech. "Though we wouldn't want to impose on your time."
"It's no imposition," Josh assured her. "Medical care should be available to everyone, regardless of station."
As he spoke, Josh noticed a young woman slipping out of the servants' hall, looking troubled. Her uniform identified her as a housemaid, and from her red hair and freckles, he recognized her as Gwen.
"Is everything alright with that young woman?" he asked Mrs. Hughes quietly.
The housekeeper's expression became guarded. "Gwen? She's just... going through some personal difficulties."
"Nothing serious, I hope?"
Mrs. Hughes hesitated, then sighed. "She has ambitions beyond service, sir. She's been taking a correspondence course, learning to type and do shorthand. She wants to be a secretary."
"And that's causing trouble?" Josh asked, though he knew the answer.
"Mr. Carson and Mrs. O'Brien discovered her typewriter," Mrs. Hughes explained. "There were... words. The poor girl was quite upset."
Josh made a decision. "Would you mind if I spoke with her?"
Mrs. Hughes looked surprised. "I... suppose not, sir. If you think it would help."
She led him to a small courtyard where Gwen sat alone on a bench, her head bowed. The young woman jumped to her feet when she saw them approaching.
"It's alright, Gwen," Mrs. Hughes said gently. "Dr. Crawley would like to speak with you."
With a reassuring nod, the housekeeper left them alone. Gwen stood nervously, eyes downcast.
"Please, sit down," Josh said, joining her on the bench. "Mrs. Hughes tells me you're studying to be a secretary."
Gwen flushed. "Yes, sir. I know it's not my place—"
"Why not?" Josh interrupted gently. "If you have the skills and the ambition, why shouldn't you pursue a different career?"
She looked up, surprise evident in her expression. "That's what I keep saying, sir. But Mr. Carson thinks I'm getting above myself, and Mrs. O'Brien..." She trailed off.
"Tell me about your training," Josh encouraged. "What have you learned so far?"
As Gwen described her correspondence course, her face lit up with enthusiasm. She was clearly intelligent and determined, her passion for her goal evident in every word.
"I can type forty words a minute now," she said proudly. "And my shorthand's improving every day. I just need someone to give me a chance."
Josh studied her thoughtfully. "As it happens, I'm in need of a secretary. My medical correspondence is becoming quite voluminous, and I could use someone skilled to manage it."
Gwen stared at him in disbelief. "You... you're offering me a position, sir?"
"I'm offering you a chance to demonstrate your skills," Josh clarified. "If you're as good as you say, I'd be happy to employ you part-time initially. We could see how it works out."
"Oh, sir!" Gwen's face transformed with joy. "I'd be so grateful for the opportunity. I promise I won't disappoint you."
"I'm sure you won't," Josh smiled. "Come to Crawley House tomorrow afternoon. Bring your typewriter and some samples of your work."
As Gwen hurried away, practically floating with happiness, Josh found Mrs. Hughes watching him with an inscrutable expression.
"That was very kind of you, sir," she said finally.
"It's practical, not kind," Josh replied modestly. "I genuinely need a secretary, and Gwen seems capable."
"Nevertheless, you've made a friend for life," Mrs. Hughes commented. "She's been dreaming of this chance for months."
As they walked back toward the main entrance, Josh noticed John Bates emerging from a small room off the corridor. The valet was limping more severely than usual, his face contorted with pain. When he saw Josh and Mrs. Hughes, he quickly straightened, trying to hide his discomfort.
"Mr. Bates," Mrs. Hughes said with concern. "Are you alright?"
"Perfectly fine, Mrs. Hughes," Bates replied, though his strained expression betrayed him.
Josh's medical instincts took over. "You're in pain, Mr. Bates. May I ask what's causing it?"
Bates looked uncomfortable at the attention. "It's nothing, sir. An old war injury."
"South Africa?" Josh guessed.
"Yes, sir. Shrapnel in the knee."
Mrs. Hughes suddenly looked alarmed. "Mr. Bates, you haven't been using that... contraption again, have you?"
Bates flushed, clearly embarrassed. "Mrs. Hughes, please—"
"What contraption?" Josh asked.
Mrs. Hughes hesitated, looking at Bates. The valet sighed and nodded reluctantly.
"He purchased some sort of metal brace," Mrs. Hughes explained. "A 'corrective device' that's supposed to straighten his leg. But it causes him terrible pain."
"May I see it?" Josh asked gently.
After a moment's hesitation, Bates led them into the small room he had emerged from—a boot room, by the looks of it. From a hidden corner, he produced a medieval-looking contraption of leather straps and metal braces.
"Good Lord," Josh murmured, examining the device. "This looks more like a torture device than medical equipment."
"It's supposed to force the leg straight," Bates explained. "The pain is just part of the process."
Josh shook his head firmly. "No legitimate medical device should cause that kind of pain. This is more likely to damage your leg further than help it."
"But what choice do I have?" Bates asked, a rare moment of vulnerability from the stoic valet. "If my limp gets worse, I won't be able to perform my duties."
Mrs. Hughes looked at Josh. "Dr. Crawley, might you be able to help? You did say you were offering your services to the staff."
Josh studied Bates's knee with a physician's eye. Even without a proper examination, he could see the joint was badly damaged. But modern surgical techniques—even those available in 1912—could potentially help.
"I'd need to examine you properly," Josh said. "But there are surgical options that might improve your condition significantly. Not a complete cure, perhaps, but a reduction in pain and improved mobility."
Hope flickered in Bates's eyes. "Surgery, sir?"
"It would involve removing some of the damaged tissue and possibly stabilizing the joint," Josh explained. "I've performed similar procedures with good results."
"The expense—" Bates began worriedly.
"Let's worry about that later," Josh interrupted. "First, I need to determine whether surgery would genuinely help. Come to the hospital tomorrow morning. I'll examine you properly and we can discuss options."
"Thank you, sir," Bates said, his voice thick with emotion. "That's very kind."
"And in the meantime," Josh added, taking the corrective device, "you'll stop using this. It's doing more harm than good."
As Josh left Downton Abbey after luncheon, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. In one day, he'd offered hope to both Gwen and Bates—two people whose lives had been restricted by circumstance and social conventions.
Of course, there were still challenges ahead. The impending visit of Napier and Pamuk worried him. He needed to find a way to prevent the scandal without altering the timeline too drastically.
As he walked back to Crawley House, Josh mentally reviewed what he knew about the upcoming events. Pamuk would arrive, be attracted to Mary, and somehow end up in her bedroom, where he would die of a heart attack. The question was how to intervene without making things worse.
Perhaps he could find a medical reason to keep Pamuk under observation? Or maybe ensure Mary was never alone with him? There were options, but each carried risks of its own.
By the time he reached Crawley House, Josh had formed the beginnings of a plan. It would require careful timing and a bit of luck, but it might save Mary from years of scandal and heartache.
As he prepared for his afternoon hospital shift, Josh reflected on the unexpected complexity of his new life. He was a doctor, a future earl, a man with foreknowledge of events yet to come, a secret lover to a farmer's wife, and now a potential guardian angel to both Mary and the servants of Downton.
It was a lot to balance, but he was determined to succeed. After all, this second chance at life was precious. He intended to make the most of every moment, helping where he could and embracing opportunities as they arose.
Tomorrow would bring Gwen's typing test and Bates's examination. Two lives he could improve immediately, while planning how to save Mary from her impending scandal. It was going to be an interesting week.
---
*Later that evening at Downton Abbey*
In the servants' hall, the evening gossip centered on Dr. Crawley's unusual visit.
"A doctor for the servants," Thomas sneered. "How gracious of him."
"I think it was kind," Anna defended. "Not many gentlemen would concern themselves with our health."
"And offering Gwen a position," Daisy added dreamily. "He's like something from a storybook, isn't he?"
"He's the heir to the earldom, not Prince Charming," O'Brien said sharply. "Don't get ideas above your station, girl."
But Gwen sat quietly at the end of the table, her eyes shining with hope as she polished her typewriter. For once, not even O'Brien's barbs could dampen her spirits.
"He's handsome too," she whispered to Anna later. "Did you see his eyes? So kind and intelligent."
Anna smiled knowingly. "Better not let Mr. Carson hear you talking like that about the future earl."
"I know, I know," Gwen sighed. "But he talked to me like I was a person, not just a housemaid. No one's ever done that before."
Upstairs, Mary was having her own thoughts about Dr. Crawley. She'd returned from riding to hear that he'd spent the morning with her father and stayed for luncheon with her mother and Sybil.
"What did you think of him?" she asked Sybil casually as Anna dressed her hair for dinner.
"Joshua? He was fascinating," Sybil replied enthusiastically. "He told me about the hospital work he's doing and listened to my ideas about women's rights without dismissing them. Not like Papa or Granny."
"Joshua?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "You're on Christian name terms already?"
Sybil blushed slightly. "He asked me to call him that. He said life was too short for unnecessary formality."
"How very modern of him," Mary commented, though she felt an unexpected twinge of... something. Jealousy? Surely not.
"Did you know he's offered Gwen a position as his secretary?" Sybil continued. "Anna told me. Isn't that wonderful? He's giving her a chance no one else would."
"How egalitarian," Mary replied, though she was secretly impressed. Not many men in his position would consider helping a housemaid achieve her ambitions.
"You don't sound very enthusiastic," Sybil observed. "I thought you liked him."
"I barely know him," Mary countered, though images from their dinner conversation flashed through her mind—his intelligent eyes, the way he'd matched her verbal sparring, the unexpected warmth in his voice when he'd complimented her piano playing.
"Well, I think he's wonderful," Sybil declared. "And so does Mama. She says he's exactly what Downton needs—someone with new ideas who still respects tradition."
As Anna finished her hair, Mary found herself thinking about Evelyn Napier and his upcoming visit. Napier was everything she should want—titled, wealthy, appropriate. And yet...
"Anna," she said quietly after Sybil left. "What do you think of Dr. Crawley?"
"He's been very kind to the staff," Anna replied carefully. "Offering to help Mr. Bates with his leg and giving Gwen a chance at a new position."
"That's not quite what I meant," Mary admitted. "Do you think he's... suitable? As the heir to Downton?"
Anna considered her answer. "I think he cares about people, my lady. About Downton and everyone in it. That seems like a good quality for the future earl."
Mary nodded thoughtfully. Suitable or not, Joshua Crawley was certainly making an impression on everyone at Downton, from the scullery maids to the earl himself.
And though she'd never admit it aloud, he was making quite an impression on her as well.