Chapter 1

Mary

Mary felt uneasy. She had a prickly feeling in her stomach and she couldn't concentrate on what Isobel was talking to her about. Possibly something about refugees? She made a non-specific murmur of encouragement.

She should be uneasy about the flu. She knew from Richard that the real death toll had been kept out of the papers, so as not to lower morale he'd said, and her Mama and Lavinia were sick with it upstairs, as well as Carson and a number of the other servants. But the flu simply added to her unease, it was not the real cause of it; the real cause was Matthew.

She stole another glance at him across the table. He was still studiously avoiding her gaze, looking stony-faced across at his mother who was still holding forth about whatever it was, definitely something about refugees she decided as she tore her glance away from Matthew and back to Isobel. She knew what had happened between them, just hours before, had been wrong, but it had been so unresolved. Matthew had said things, things she'd never thought she'd hear him say to her again, things she'd only dreamt could ever be true. And he'd kissed her. She was sure it was he who'd kissed her and not the other way round, but the memory was already hazy in her mind. Could it have been she who'd initiated it? No, he had told her he wished he could marry her and then he'd kissed her. She knew he had nothing to offer her, he was engaged to Lavinia, but there had to be an end to that conversation. Some sort of goodbye at the very least. Surely he owed her that?

Isobel had finished her monologue on the refugees and looked across at Matthew.

"How's Lavinia?" she asked.

Matthew's face remained stony, not giving anything away.

"Alright, I think," he said. "The illness has made her rather confused."

Mary saw her chance to break the ice with Matthew. He wouldn't be able to ignore her in public, surely.

"What do you mean?" she asked quickly cutting off the chance of anyone else asking a similar question.

Matthew finally looked at her, darkly, but before he could speak the door burst open and Sybil came into the dining room.

"Papa, Mary, Edith! You must come quickly!"

Everyone beside Violet stood up immediately. It was clear from Sybil's tone that something was very wrong and Mary felt immediately ashamed at how preoccupied she'd been with Matthew.

"Is it Mama?" Mary asked, knowing the answer before Sybil had said it.

"Yes. You must all come quickly."

The room smelled of death. The air was thick and hot and felt heavy and oppressive. Cora was ghostly white and slick with sweat; even to Mary's untrained eye it was clear that she was very ill. There was blood on the sheets which were twisted around her like bandages and O'Brien sat holding her hand, her eyes hollow with tiredness. The trace of a smile crossed Cora's lips as she saw them enter the room and motioned for them to come to her.

Mary felt sick. This couldn't be happening. Downton was her fortress, it was a place of safety not of danger. Terrible things happened outside its walls, but it was meant to protect those sheltered within. She looked at Dr. Clarkson standing meekly at the edge of the room.

"There must be something you can do Dr. Clarkson?" she said, a wild edge creeping into her voice. "Why are you not doing something?"

Dr. Clarkson looked forlorn and ran a hand through his greying hair.

"I'm afraid I've done everything I can Lady Mary. The best thing now is for her to be with those she loves."

He nodded towards her bed where Robert, Edith and Sybil were already gathered. She stood rooted to the spot looking blankly at Dr. Clarkson.

"You must be able to do something. You must..." Her voice trailed off into barely a whisper and she started to cry.

She felt a hand on her lower back and Matthew's voice very quietly in her ear so as not to be heard by anyone but her.

"You must go to her my darling. She needs you."

Matthew's breath felt warm in her ear and she turned momentarily to look at him. He smiled at her and though the smile didn't reach his eyes it still reassured her, and she made her way over to join her father and her sisters at Cora's bedside.

"Mary," Cora said weakly holding out her hand towards her.

"You must be happy" she said in barely more than a whisper. "All of you. You must promise me that you will be happy, that's all I want."

She started coughing and let go of Mary's hand.