boy, that's not your look
“Julian Fellowes” and the “cast of Downton Abbey” present a staged version of Series 4, Episode 1 at New York’s prestigious 54 Below.
❞ You see a million bricks that may crumble, a thousand gutters and pipes that may block and leak, and stone that will crack in the frost. I see my life’s work.
And every year she would do her duty and partner the men in the house, giving only one dance each. Making sure that everyone was looked after and enjoyed the night that celebrated the family of upstairs and downstairs together. It was on this night every year she would wait until the house became quiet, with stillness creeping through the halls and she would step outside the Library doors and gaze into the dark.
For years she would stand there watching for him. Waiting in the cold. And for years, on that particular night, the skies stayed clear.
In the year that her son transformed from her boy to a man, she stood on the step after the ball, her heart jaggedly ripped to shreds with the news that he would leave her for war, a snowflake fell from the night and caressed her eyelash. With blinking eyes and wonder from her soul, they fell, quicker and faster in light transience around her. She felt his brush, was soothed by the pureness, and felt beyond more than she ever had, that he was with her. She raised her face to the night and whispered his name and breathed in the love that they shared.
And she knew that he was with them, and she knew he would keep their son safe.