If you were the only girl in the world, and I were the only boy...
Mary's heart had leapt into her throat when Matthew waltzed into the room. Her chest tightened; her throat constricted; she couldn't breathe. Her practiced smile faded away to reveal a look of stunned relief-it was one of the few moments Lady Mary Crawley did not have complete control of her faculties.
Oh thank God, she had whispered.
And then he smiled. Oh, that beautiful smile. He looked so calm, so relaxed-did he not know her whole world would have fallen apart had he not turned up alive? How could he be so calm?
His blue eyes lit up and the next thing she knew, he was walking towards her, singing the next line of the song.
I would say such wonderful things to you.
And for a moment, Mary forgot there were other people in the room.
Until they joined Matthew in song.
The concert had been over for a few minutes and Mary found Matthew talking to her father. Mrs. Hughes approached the pair and whispered something to her father, causing Robert to excuse himself from Matthew, leaving Matthew on his own. He looked around at all the people milling about the house until his eyes settled on Mary, dear, sweet Mary. He gave her one of his patented half-smiles, hoping it would draw her closer.
She should have moved. She should have retreated into the dark recesses of her house, away from him, where she could be alone and pretend the blonde-haired hero did not exist. But it was too late. It was always too late when it came to Matthew Crawley. He had spotted her and if she fled, he would only follow. She withheld a sigh as she approached him. "What will you do with the rest of your leave?"
He was slightly startled by her direct question. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked up there, how wonderful her voice sounded, but the words were caught in his throat, wrestling with his heart who knew what it was to be in love, and his mind who knew better judgment. He knew he'd never say these things to her anyway, even if she hadn't asked such a pointed question. "I'm not sure," he said, his brow furrowing, "Mother's gone to France, so I'm not quite sure what I will do. I could go see her, I suppose...Or maybe go to London..."
To see Lavinia, their minds thought in chorus.
"Back to France so soon when you've only just arrived?" she asked, forcing a small smile on her face.
He eyed her cautiously. "Well, I certainly couldn't stay here, I-"
"Of course you could," Mary interrupted without thinking. She watched his eyebrows rise up his forehead and she internally cursed herself. "You know Mama and Papa would love to have you stay here, their great war hero," she teased, trying to turn the tables, or at least put them on even ground. How was he still so calm?
He couldn't help but grin, though he didn't feel like much of a war hero. "If you're sure it isn't an imposition..."
"Nonsense," she said, shaking her head, "I'll go tell Mrs. Hughes to have the maids make up a room for you. See you at dinner tonight." She excused herself from him with a smile, eagerly heading off to search for Mrs. Hughes. She would need to let Mama know for dinner seating as well, but that could be dealt with later.
Matthew was staying under the same roof as Mary, and she didn't know if she wanted to run and hide or scream with joy.
A/N: So I know this is a rather short chapter, but when I realized how long this thing would be, I wanted to break it up a little and this seemed like an excellent place to break it up. If you have the time, feel free to drop me a note and let me know what you think of my drabble! :)