Chapter 1

She couldn't think, couldn't feel. Her mind detached and she found her mouth forming the automatic expected response for itself. "Of course it's over, how could it not be?" She made it calmly around the corner, or it seemed like she did. She couldn't tell. She held her breath the whole time, and felt about to faint by the time she was out of his sight. She wished she could, to be honest, but there was no such easy escape from reality. The pain exploded in her chest and she took a gasping breath. She had to get away from this place. For a moment she couldn't will her feet to move. Then her mind rebelled against her body, and she couldn't ignore it anymore, that was when she started running.

She ran through the empty village, not thinking exactly where she was going, just away. By the time she found herself reaching the gates of Downton a painful blister was forming on her heel. So, she took off her shoes, leaving them in the damp grass. Once inside the estate, she kept running, but away from the house. They would be looking for her by now, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her feet were cold and damp as the wet grass soaked through her stockings, leaving green stains on the beautiful silk fabric. Mary didn't notice. All she did was run. Finally, the house was well out of sight, but she kept running. She was tired now, and began to slow down. Spotting a large manicured shrub, she dropped to her knees and crawled under it, curling up on the cool damp earth beneath. No one would look for her here, as Lady Mary Crawley wouldn't ever hide in a shrub. She didn't care. Lady Mary Crawley would never leave her shoes in the grass, or ruin her new stockings either. But she wasn't herself anymore. She refused to be.

The tears, which she had refused to let come earlier, came now. They dripped silently down her face, as she slipped out of consciousness. Her sleep was free of dreams, yet felt haunted all the same. She awoke shivering, and opened her eyes. But there was nothing to see, it was pitch black out. A night with no moon. She felt a sob rising in her chest. She couldn't escape the pain. He hated her. She could still feel his expression burning her hours later. Matthew. She didn't know how she could stop loving him, even though she knew he would never love her again. She didn't see how it was possible to move on. Especially after she had confirmed it was over herself. He was finally free. Her heart had secretly felt the tiniest bit joy when Lavinia died. Even as she was mourned for the loss of Lavinia who had really never done anything wrong; even as she had cried that night, a part of her had been happy. Yet as soon as she had seen Matthew's face the next day, she knew she wasn't ever going to be happy again. If he was devastated, how could she be happy? This morning had crushed her last glimmer of hope, and now her world was filled with nothingness. Darkness filled her vision, and her eyes gently closed once again.

Matthew turned over for the hundredth time yet no matter how much he tossed and turned, sleep refused to come. He was rather sad for Lavinia's death, but that wasn't exactly why he couldn't sleep. He was angry with himself, he should be completely overwhelmed with grief for his deceased fiancée but he could not seem to muster the appropriate emotion. He should not have felt relieved. What kind of person was he? Somehow, instead his thoughts kept coming to Mary. God, Mary. He shouldn't think about her. He didn't deserve her. For goodness sake, why couldn't he stop thinking about her? He had said the right thing, hadn't he? Wasn't he supposed to end it? Didn't she expect him to? Gosh, he wished he hadn't though, and he had a feeling she agreed. Had he been mean to her? As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise he had the uncomfortable feeling he had heard a sob only seconds after she had left his sight. Goodness, did she actually love him?

A quiet murmur of voices interrupted his thoughts as he heard the front door open, followed soon after by footsteps coming up the stairs. "Matthew," his mother said, knocking lightly on his bedroom door. "May I come in?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled, sitting up awkwardly. "Is something wrong?" He blinked, and saw his mother standing in the doorway, in her dressing gown and a grim expression upon her face.

"Well, unfortunately," she whispered loudly, "yes, I must say there is. William just arrived downstairs. Lord Grantham sent him to inform us that…" she paused for a moment, seeming to wait for his permission to continue speaking.

"Well, go on please. Surely it can't be that bad?" He muttered impatiently. But her expression made him wary. His mother wasn't distressed so easily, maybe it really was bad? She stared sadly at him for a moment and then stated with contrition.

"Mary is missing."

"What?" Whatever he had anticipated she would, it wasn't that. Where would Mary have gone? Why would she be missing? Unless…

"They're out searching for her now. They can't figure out why she wouldn't have come home immediately after the funeral. They're extremely worried, as you could imagine."

"Believe me, I can."

"You should help look for her Matthew; Lord Grantham requested it himself actually. He told William to ask you, although he also said he understood if you couldn't due to your recent loss. Still, they can't cover much of the estate without more help. Although, they aren't sure she's even on the estate as it is."

"Of course I'll help. Tell William that I will be down in a moment, as soon as I change into some proper clothes."

"Thank you sweetheart, Lord Grantham will really appreciate it. It's your duty as heir, after all."

"Of course" he repeated once again, a slight hint of dread filling his voice as his mother kept her eyes locked on his. She had something to say and she was going to force him to listen.

"Oh, and Matthew? I'm not aware of what you told Mary after the funeral, but I hope it wasn't too cruel. You ought to know that the last anyone saw of her was when the two of you were talking-"

"But that was hours ago!" The panic he had tried to suppress earlier when she first told him the news was rising now, he could feel his breath catch in his throat.

"I just thought I'd mention it. Now hurry up and get dressed, your help is needed." She looked at him searchingly before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind her.

"Good luck!" Isobel called after them as Matthew and William ventured out into the cool night air. Goodness, it was impossible to see anything. Where was the moon?

"Dark, isn't it?" said William.

"It most certainly is," replied Matthew. They were within sight of the estate gates now, and quickened their paces simultaneously as a clap of thunder echoed in the distance.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes longer when suddenly, Matthew tripped over something in the grass.

"What the..?" he yelped, looking down. "My word…Is that-"

"It appears to be a pair of shoes, Sir" said William. "In fact it seems that they are-"

"Lady Mary's shoes." finished Matthew grimly. Dread, panic, and fear flooded through him all at once as he picked up the shoes. All of the sudden a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, and followed by rain that poured down in freezing torrents, soaking them to the bone immediately.

"Shall we continue?" asked William. And with a silent, minute nod of his head, Matthew communicated his agreement and the two searchers continued through the rain.

tbc