A/N: HEHE I OWN NOTHING! JULIAN FELLOWES OWNS EVERYTHING, SADLY…. Well, this is my first ever fanfic, pls R&R…
Lady Mary Crawley sat on the velvet sofa in her room, weeping softly into her nude satin gloves. Oh how she longed for him to be there, comforting her and telling her that he loved her… But he would not, he could not and now she would never feel his arms around her again. A knock on the door tore her away from her lamenting thoughts. Mary quickly tried to wipe the remainder of the tears from her pale, flustered cheeks. "Milady is everything alright?" questioned Anna, stepping in to the dimly lit room and closing the white wooden door behind her. When she heard the door latch, Mary could no longer keep herself together; her shoulders wracked with sobs, slowly shaking her head as an answer to her maid's question. Anna stepped towards her, pulling Mary into a knowing and loving embrace, waiting until her cries subsided. After a few minutes in that position, Anna suggested that she prepare Mary for supper which was to be held in ten minutes.
At supper, Mary was situated in between Sir Richard and Matthew, who was destined for London in a few weeks to finish up some business at his firm before returning to Downton. It was painful to feel him and see him next to her, and even more so to maintain an air of contentedness and tranquility in his presence. As one of her parents' guests babbled on about some stark boring news, Matthew leaned over to Mary, whispering in her ear: "I must speak with you tonight before I leave. I have something important to tell you, meet me in the sitting room after supper." Mary nodded curtly and, unable to look into those piercing blue eyes any longer, turned her head in the opposite direction, feigning interest in what the guest was proposing to her, ugh she hated the word, fiancée. Slowly, Matthew's hand reached under the table and clutched hers. Shocked, Mary's heart began to flutter and pound in her chest, and she was certain that Matthew could hear it from only a few feet away. And, hopefully, Sir Richard was too involved in polite conversation to notice the change in her demeanor.
When the conversation, as well as the supper, drew to a close, the women moved into the drawing room to chat while the men stayed behind in the dining hall to have a drink. Eventually, everyone convened in the drawing room to exchange thank-yous and goodnights. Cora left the room with Robert on her heels while Sybil and Edith hospitably parted from their 'lovely' guest. That left her and Sir Richard alone, seeing how Matthew decided to "turn in early", no doubt to make his way up to the sitting room. Placing a chaste kiss on Sir Richard's cheek, Mary spun on her heel and headed for the door, but Sir Richard clamed an iron hand around her upper arm. He ordered, "I expect to see you tomorrow to discuss wedding plans. Do not keep me waiting." Shifting uncomfortably from his cold fingers, Mary wrenched her arm from his hand, nodded her head and left the drawing room, wishing he were not so pertinent about being married.
Mary's pale fingers rested on the bronze door knob before she turned the device and let herself into the sitting room. It was a pretty room, and never really used by anyone. Filled with colorful afghans, plush red velvet settees and beautiful, albeit dusty, chandeliers hanging from the ornate ceiling, Mary's chocolate eyes found Matthew seated near the small book case in the corner flipping idly through the worn pages of an ancient book. "What book are you reading, may I ask?" Mary asked, hoping to break the silence and mask her shyness. "The most tragic love story of all time: Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet," answered Matthew, turning his face from the pages to meet Mary's eyes. He continued, "They love each other so much, yet, they still cannot be together. But, in the end, I believe that Mr. Shakespeare makes a point of telling people that, there can be a happy ending, no matter how sad it may be." he inhaled deeply as if preparing for the worst, "and I believe the same." Apparently the confusion was evident on Mary's face, because Matthew stood up, placed the book on the love seat, and took a few strides towards her. "It would be a mistake to marry him, Sir Richard; Juliet never marries Paris does she? Even if she is pressured to do it? If the only reason you feel obliged to give yourself to him is because of the incident with Mr. Pamuk, don't. In time, everyone will forgive you like I have. Everyone makes their mistakes and has to deal with them; you shouldn't worry about the consequences now. Please, even if you have to go to America or, hell, even move to Verona, leave him! He is not good to you, and you do not love him nor he you!" The silence in the room then became so loud and encompassing that Mary closed her eyes and sat down on the seat next to Matthew, picking up Romeo and Juliet and opening it to the page where Matthew left off, laughing at the irony of their situation. "At least Juliet married Romeo, even if it was a secret and only for a little while, and Paris was not a monster who threatened to ruin her future," added Mary with a forced, bitter laugh. Suddenly, she felt Matthew's fingers pull her chin up so that they were face-to-face in the fire-lit room. He whispered: "please, marry Romeo, and not Paris." Mary's eyes widened in shock, did he just propose? Again? Unsure of what to do and completely entranced by his affectionate gaze, Mary leaned towards Matthew and pressed her lips to his. Matthew sunk down next to her on the love seat, not once breaking the lock of their lips. Still holding her tightly, Matthew pulled back, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. "Is that a yes?" he said, "because I love you like Romeo loved Juliet, and…" He was unable to speak another word because Mary had thrown herself against him, eyes watering as she kissed up his jawline and whispered into his ear: "Yes. Because Juliet refuses Paris, and instead loves Romeo 'till death do they part."