Clearer Air
Usual disclaimers of non-ownership
Mary took a deep breath as she entered the drawing room. She hated this kind of thing. She was so bad at it. She poked her head into the drawing room The room was empty except for a solitary figure sitting quietly at the desk engaged in correspondence.
Huzzah. She had the pleasure of interrupting him as he performed whatever task he was doing. Well cheers, anyway.
"Hello, Bertie," She said, brightly, "Are we the first ones in for tea?"
Bertie rose to his feet as he looked at his wrist watch in apparent confusion, "It's not even three o'clock, so yes, I think we are."
"Splendid. I was hoping to speak with you in any case. Just the two of us." She raised her arm, indicating that he should join her in the sitting area, he came reluctantly, "Yes, no time like the present." She babbled.
Bertie sat in the arm chair in the least convenient conversation spot and looked at her with a neutral expression, saying nothing. Given that Mary had observed that Bertie's resting face was genial and good humored, she presumed (or rather Henry and Tom had drilled into her skull at length) that Bertie had never quite forgiven her for the whole Edith/Marigold/breakfast bombshell debacle. If she wanted peace to reign in the family, she had to make amends.
"I just thought we should clear the air." Mary started.
Bertie leaned forward and said nothing.
"Since we are going to be brother and sister, I would like us to start out that relationship with no hard feelings between us." She clarified.
Bertie nodded, then spoke in cool measured tones, "I suppose what feelings exist between you and me would depend on your attitude toward and your treatment of your sister and your niece in the future. If it continues to be as deplorable as it has been in the past then any relationship between you and me will be necessarily be adversarial and hostile."
"Edith and I are sisters." Mary explained, dismissively.
"Then I've heard enough." Bertie began to stand up, "I understand that Edith is used to this dynamic. I think, however, it is unwise to expose Marigold to the continued danger that I believe someone as unstable as you poses."
"I only wanted to apologize for my behavior... if you would only..." Mary huffed.
"And yet you have not apologized. Not once." Bertie sneered. "Not to Edith, at any rate."
Mary rolled her eyes.
"Oh, you didn't realize that she'd noticed or you never thought she'd think to mention it anyone? Or that anyone would listen?" Bertie asked. "I've apologized to her. For how I reacted, for not listening to her when she tried to tell be about Marigold the night before you so helpfully forced the situation upon us. And what mostly I apologized for was not believing her when she told me what a truly malevolent presence you are and have been in her life." He paused, "You barely knew me, but you threw the truth about Marigold on the table. What if I'd been vindictive? If I'd decided to use the information to ruin Edith? To ruin Marigold?"
"Oh, I knew you wouldn't have done that. You're a gentleman. And you loved Edith too much to harm her." Mary rolled her eyes knowingly.
"So you knew how much we loved each other? Is that what offended you?" Bertie shook his head in disgust.
"I was in a foul mood." Mary explained, crossly. "It wasn't my best day."
"You seem to be a foul mood now," Bertie mocked, "Shall I have the children taken to low ground for their own safety?"
"I fixed things! I arranged for you to meet at the Ritz!" Mary exclaimed.
"Things would have been fixed without you! I was keeping track of when Edith went to London. The next time she was in town, I was going to meet with her. Nothing was going to stop me. We were going to reconcile with or without your telephonic intervention." Bertie dismissed her. Suddenly, he looked disgusted. "You fixed things? You don't fix things by throwing the broken pieces in a box and yelling "fix yourselves!' Honestly. Were you raised by wolves?"
"As I said before, we are going to be brother and sister," Mary said in a low dangerous voice, "we need to try to get along."
Bertie folded his arms, "Do you understand how much we hurt her that morning? You and I? Do you care? It rips up my soul because I behaved as badly as she ever feared I could. Guess what, Lady Mary. As did you. We both raced to the bottom of her worst case scenario." He walked away from her to the desk and gathered his correspondence, "If I thought you gave a damn about that. That you felt the least bit guilty about causing her that amount of pain, fear and sadness... then perhaps we might try to get along. But since you don't, my energies will be better spent protecting my wife and children from your influence."
Mary watched him walk out of the room.
At half past three, Edith breezed in with a sunny smile on her face, seeing Mary sitting by the window glowering, she called, "Not as bad as all that, surely?" receiving naught but an eye roll in response, she asked "Have you seen Bertie? He was finishing some correspondence in here before tea."
Mary waved her hands, "He's not here, as you see."
"Yes, I do," Edith said, walking to the other side of the room, "Perhaps he's gone to have Carson put the letters in the post." Edith bit her lip in excitement, "It's about us legally adopting Marigold after the wedding. Together, as a married couple." She confided, breathlessly.
"What?" Mary asked rising, and walking toward her sister with a confused look.
"Yes, isn't it Marvelous?" Edith asked with shining eyes, "It will be a private adoption, but it will hopefully quash any questions for most people. Bertie actually started to look into when he'd first asked me to marry him. It was a lot simpler before he became a peer, obviously. But we can still do it now, there will just be more lawyers. They'll be more expensive. But I'll finally get to be her mother in front of the world and be able to give her a real father and a name she can own."
"I hope it works out well. Is there anything that can be done to help it along?" Mary asked, earnestly.
"Murray is helping from Papa's end, since he's known to be her legal guardian. Until we are actually married, though we are limited as to what we can do. As a married couple, it should move quickly." Edith said, "I was just so thrilled when Bertie told me how far he had gotten in the process. I almost kissed his face off after dinner last night."
"Less description, if you please." Mary raised an eyebrow. "He might have gone into the music room to finish his letters. We had a bit of a tiff."
"Really?" Edith asked, "Bertie doesn't usually engage in tiffs."
"He doesn't like me."
"Oh, God, no!" Edith laughed, "He thinks you are just awful."
"Have you thought to defend me?" Mary asked. Edith's eyes widened. "For the sake of family unity?"
"What could I possibly say to defend you?" Edith asked.
"We're having a pleasant conversation..." Mary snapped.
"My heavens, yes." Edith nodded, gracefully taking a seat on the sofa, "this part in particular is delightful."
"The Dowager Countess of Grantham." Announced Andrew as Granny came in.
"Thank God. Someone can speak sense to her." Mary huffed, as Edith kissed their grandmother's cheek.
"Oh, dear, that's an ominous greeting. Into what sisterly maelstrom am I strolling into the center?" The old woman shrewdly glared at her eldest granddaughter as she came to kiss her cheek as well.
"I am trying to mend fences with Lord Hexham, but Edith refuses to assist me." Mary stated.
"Isn't everything well between you and Bertie," the dowager asked Edith, alarmed.
"Everything is marvelous between us," she smiled, her face aglow.
"What fences are discussing, then?" the old woman looked confused.
"Mary wants to add Bertie to the cloud of men in evening clothes that huddle in corners and do her bidding on social occasions." Edith smirked.
"The tuxedo'd, overly perfumed haze of admirers? Well, it never actually was romantic for Mary with any of them." The dowager nodded.
"It's not like that!" Mary snapped. "I want to have as good a relationship with Bertie as Henry and Edith have."
"That's not possible, dear." The dowager sat down. "Henry likes Edith as a person. He would have done so if the two of you hadn't met or married. If Edith and Bertie hadn't become a couple, if you two had become acquainted, you would have either detested one another or hardly marked the other's existence."
"I would like him to not think I am an ogre." Mary rolled her eyes.
"That might be nice," Edith shrugged, "I just don't know that I am the one to make the case," she explained to her grandmother.
"No. I can see that. My goodness, what would you say?" The old woman agreed, "It may be, my dear, that you will simply have to behavior in a less ogre like fashion. Bertie doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge, Edith?"
Edith tilted her head to the side, "If he thinks a person is contrite and unlikely to behave in such a fashion again or that they didn't intend to cause offense..."
"That bodes ill for you, my dear," Granny smirked, "apologizing without it dripping with insincerity was never your long suit. And you generally always mean to give offense."
"Why does it matter?" Edith asked, "It's not like we are going to be living in the same house together."
"It's Tom and Henry. They are convinced I can't accomplish it." Mary admitted.
Edith rolled her eyes, "Oh, I see. I can't believe I thought it was something more altruistic. I won't trouble myself further." She rose, "I am going to find Bertie, Granny, I'll be right back." She went the door, glanced back at her sister and rolled her eyes again.
"Why will everyone misunderstand me?" Mary asked, irritated.
"That is the first question asked by the perfectly understood." Granny smiled, "You are queen, it is imperative your subjects are in line."
"Edith's not in line." Mary hissed.
"Hence your difficulty with her. You and she are like mirrors only reflecting the other's worst angles. So you've both spent your entire life trying to break the mirror or to make other people see the image you do. Your problem with Bertie is that he sees things from Edith's angle."
"Henry doesn't see things from mine. 'You must be better friends with Edie.' 'Edie told me the wildest magazine story!' 'Then Edie took the wheel and I thought Tom was going to...'" Mary frowned, "Apparently, Bertie is as boring as I am according to Tom. "Then Bertie looked at my paper work and saw 6 ways to make our processes more efficient.' 'Then Bertie said he'd speak to our wholesaler and get him to knock a point and half off our next order of feed." I'd love to have those conversations with him!"
"Oh, for heaven's sake. Then just have a livestock problem and ask him for advice!" Granny huffed. "Leave Edith out of it. If you want to talk about farming, talk about farming. You'll get further as professional colleagues."
"Leave emotions out of it?" Mary asked.
"Quit going for the heart strings, aim for gaining respect. And don't talk about your sister, you'll say something unforgivable. You just can't help yourself."
Mary nodded, "I see your point."
"Good girl." Granny said.
Edith came back into the room dragging Bertie by the hand. Seeing the dowager, he bowed formally, "Lady Grantham. How are you?"
"Quite well, Lord Hexham." She replied.
"Granny's in on this conversation," Edith said, hip checking her fiancé. Looking at her sister, "You two may not speak. You do not have to like each other. You do have to respect each other as members of the family. You, Bertie, have to give Mary the benefit of the doubt. You, Mary, have to try to be nice and understand why it is hard for him to trust you. I am not going to ask if are able to do these things. You will do these things." Edith said with finality. "The last thing we want is Tom and Henry rolling their eyes and grinning like monkeys because they know they were right about something."
"That would be annoying," Bertie conceded.
"Oh, God, thank you!" Mary sighed, "They get so sanctimonious when they are together sometimes you just want to slap them."
"Bertie, Mary has some land agent questions for you that you can discuss during tea." Granny said as Cora and Robert entered the room.
"Of course, I'll assist if I can," Bertie replied joining Mary in a conversation that both would find punishing and interesting.
Tom and Henry drank their tea in the corner grinning and rolling their eyes, as congratulated themselves at arranging the new understanding and possible friendship between Edith's fiancé and her sister.
"One really does want to slap them." Noted the dowager countess to her younger granddaughter.