'Kiss me,' came that brisk confident tone that Charles so often adopted.
Mary's wide eyes snapped from where Tony and Miss Mable Lane Fox were about to emerge succeeding the pleasant- though be it rather awkward- dinner they'd had.
'What?' her voice was much harsher than she'd meant it to be nonetheless she couldn't do anything to stop it from being so; this new chapter of his proposition had been so unexpected and he hadn't yet allowed her enough time to consider how she felt about it.
'Now,' he said urgently.
But she didn't want to kiss him. She didn't want to kiss anyone under circumstances such as these.
It was too late. He'd pressed his lips stubbornly against hers and she had found herself powerless in his ardent grip. Although Mary didn't doubt that this was all part of Blake's plan to help her ward off Tony, she couldn't deny that the way that Charles held her harboured something much more tender than mere procedure.
From the corner of her almost-shut eye, Mary saw Tony and Mable enter the vicinity and Tony's hat fall from his hands as his gaze lay upon the area that she stood in, lips still glued to Charles.
When the kiss ended, for some reason Charles didn't look at Mary but instead downwards. He knew Tony had seen.
Mary wanted to look at Tony, to perhaps say that it wasn't what it had seemed and that her loyalties currently lay with no one but she was too preoccupied glaring at Charles.
Tony looked ready to punch someone and for a brief moment it appeared as though Charles was going to be the victim. But then his fist, which had been hovering in mid-air, dropped hopelessly and Tony stalked out, shaking his head in disgust.
'Tony, your hat,' muttered Miss Fox feebly, picking up his discarded clothing and following her ex. Before she was out of sight though, she turned gracefully on her heel and fixed Mary and Charles with a disdainful look, 'well done.'
Mary couldn't tell whether she was being sincere or else insulting Charles' achievement though Blake seemed to assume that it was most likely the second of the two.
'Charles,' Mary hissed.
He looked up, sporting an innocent expression so uncharacteristic of his usually twinkling eyes, 'what?'
'You know perfectly well what!' she could hardly get her words out she was so irate that she couldn't help trembling a little. She considered hitting him herself and compensating for Tony's moment of weakness, 'you can't just grab me and kiss me without my consent.'
'Why not? It worked, did it not?'
Mary couldn't believe what she was hearing. She scowled at Charles, 'this is not how I wanted to reject Tony. Chances are now he'll never speak to me again.'
'You wanted to get rid of him.'
'I wanted to let him down gently, not eliminating all intentions of his ever speaking to me again. I want to be friends with him still, or acquaintances at least,' her look of loathing intensified as she uttered the next words, 'but I doubt that's something that you're familiar with.'
'What's that supposed to mean?' Blake didn't sound offended; he sounded curious.
Mary curled her lip and narrowed her eyes, 'you know, I've been out with you time and time again. We've talked, we've even laughed. We've danced through the night. But…' she looked away from him, 'I still don't know you.'
'Course you do,' he dismissed her declaration.
'No I don't,' she sounded more resolute this time, 'I don't know anything about you. I don't know who Charles Blake is. As a matter of fact I think I'm right in saying that I've only ever spoken to the real you is…' her throat tightened unnaturally, 'when we were in the… with the pigs,' she hung her head, 'sorry Charles, I know it's not what you want to hear but you're just not the sort of person it's possible to grow close to. I don't know what you were thinking kissing me.'
For once he didn't speak. No smart return was shot at her. Nothing at all was said, even when they embarked on their journey back to Downton. After all, there was nothing to say.