Many thanks to those who liked this drabble on tumblr. As you can see, I decided to expand on it.

And a million thanks to flailinggirl for everything. You are beyond amazing. Enjoy!

Chapter One

Dinner had been disastrous. Matthew knew he was invited solely to even out the numbers in the party but he had hoped there would be more to it. It was a small hope but hope that maybe Mary, as he so informally referred to her in his thoughts, would be difference towards him in the face of other people being in attendance besides the family. It was a foolish assumption to make, he knew that, but it didn't stop him from hoping it would be true. But dinner was over and Matthew knew he should go home. It was late, the rest of the family was surely asleep by now. Cousin Robert had seen him out himself as he left to go to bed. The gravel of the path crunched beneath his shoes as he shuffled a few steps forward before stopping once more. His palms felt clammy in the cool night air and he rubbed his hands against his pants legs before stopping himself. He had to stop such habits, he knew, before Mary had more ammunition against him.

Mary. Tonight had been an abject failure. He didn't know why she seemed to dislike him so much, well, besides the obvious. Upon hearing that Evelyn Napier, heir to Viscount Branksome, was to be a guest at the house, he knew why. What he didn't know was why the idea of such a man bothered him so much. Mary clearly disliked him, she should find a husband that she didn't seem to feel the need to belittle. But Evelyn Napier being at the house did bother him. The addition of Mr. Pamuk only added to that, turning his minor bother with the situation into full blown displeasure.

Glancing over his shoulder, he judged that he was close enough to the house to slip in before Carson locked it for the night. He didn't know why he felt the need to return to the house, but he did. Some part of him was telling him that he couldn't leave the house despite not being invited to stay the night. And his resolve to go home to Crawley House was weakening with every moment he stood contemplating it. It was a cloudless night, the moon bright enough the guide him back to the darkened house. He hurried his steps, almost running, the gravel sliding beneath the soles of his finely shined shoes. They weren't designed for this and he just hoped that he didn't fall.

He reached the door just as sweat began to dot his brow, the moisture slipping against his skin as he stopped to breathe at the door. Pulling on his lapels, he made sure his appearance was every bit the gentlemen before testing the door knob. Eyes narrowed, he turned his wrist and luckily, so did the door knob.

Pushing against the heavy door, he slipped through to the hallway. One lamp was still lit casting deep shadows. It was almost scary seeing the inside in such darkness. He continued to take it all in, the way the shadows made the walls seem impossibly higher before being jolted from behind.

"Mr. Crawley! Sorry, sir." The hall boy on duty backed away, looking down. Matthew willed himself to calm down, the darkness playing tricks on his mind.

"It's quite alright. I apologize for disrupting your watch." The hall boy said nothing, just staring at a spot right over Matthew's shoulder. He was tempted to see just what had captivated the boy so much before realizing that he was avoiding looking at him. Brushing down his jacket, he squared his shoulders as if his righted clothing were a suit of armor. "I'll just head up to bed now." Matthew added, turning and making his way to the grand staircase. "Goodnight sir." The hall boy replied before scurrying away to his post.

He didn't know what had possessed him just then. Cousin Cora had not extended an invitation to sleep at the main house and he had just invited himself.

He blamed the after dinner drinks.

"Anything else my lady?" Anna asked softly, placing the brush down on the vanity. Mary was miles away, her thoughts muddled with the events of the nights.

"Hmm? Oh. No Anna. That will be all." Mary replied absentmindedly, rubbing her hand cream in. She didn't notice the understanding smile Anna shot her way through the mirror, or that she had slipped from the room. Her thoughts were a jumble of embarrassment and confusion.

Mr. Pamuk had seemed to take her flirtatious behavior as an invitation which was not her intention at all. She wasn't sure if it was because she so obviously preferred him to the dreadfully dull Evelyn or different cultural practices. Perhaps in Turkey, one didn't flirt unless it meant something more? If that were the case, Mr. Pamuk must be prepared to deal with more rejections. She may despise her situation, that was not quite a secret, but she was intelligent enough to know that she couldn't change it so it was important to stay within the bounds of propriety.

Untying the knot of her dressing gown, she dropped it onto her vanity stool determined to push away the thoughts that continued to pull at her attention. She had just settled into bed, book open in her lap when a knock on her door pulled her attention.

Annoyed at the intrusion and confused as to who could possibly be knocking at this time of night, she tossed her book to the side, throwing away the eiderdown and blankets that she had just settled around herself. Pulling her dressing down on over her shoulders, Mary tied it shut tightly protecting what little modesty she had being clothed in only a nightgown. Opening her door slowly, she was shocked to see Matthew there, still in his clothes from dinner.

"Matthew?" She asked unnecessarily. "It's the middle of the night!" Her surprise at seeing him at her door quickly morphed into displeasure.

"I know." He wrung his hands together and Mary felt her minimal patience with him wearing thin.

"Yes. Well. What are you doing here?" She pushed the door open to face him fully. Matthew sputtered for a moment, not quite sure what to do with the sight of Mary in her nightclothes before him. It was surprising, he thought, how quickly his mind was diverted.

"I hope I am not intruding or being rude…" He trailed off, unsure. Mary stared at him in amazement.

"It's the middle of the night Matthew." He cursed himself for saying the wrong thing.

"Of course. No. What I meant to say, was that I –" He stopped as a creak of a floorboard rippled through the otherwise silent hall. A light was drawing closer and instinctually, he turned, his back now to Mary as he peered into the darkness.

Mary felt her exasperation with Matthew grow. Not only did he disrupt her in the middle of the night, now he was acting even more peculiar than usual. "Matthew." She let her displeasure seep into her voice.

"Mary, close the door." He commanded not looking back at her.

"Excuse me?" She felt indignant that he felt her could tell her what to do. "Matthew –"

"Mary, close the door." He said once more, this time a bit harshly.

"Why?" She spotted the light in the hall but it was too late. The light was close enough now to make out the features of those who held it. Thomas, and Mr. Pamuk. Futilely, she pushed her door slightly closed but it did no good now.

"Mr. Pamuk." Matthew said calmly. He was thankful his anxiety was well hidden even with his hands balled into fists at his sides.

"Mr. Crawley. Lady Mary." He dipped his head slightly in greeting. "I wasn't aware you were staying the night Mr. Crawley." He smiled, the light glinting off his white teeth slightly.

"Last minute invitation." Matthew figured it would be best to keep his answers short. Mary stared at the back of his head surprised. She wasn't aware of any invitation to spend the night. "You should return to your room, it's late." Matthew detected a dangerous glint in the man's eye, something that made him fear leaving Mary alone.

"Thomas here was just showing me the way to the library. I was hoping to retrieve a book." He stared Matthew down as Mary watched silently from the doorway.

"Thomas, I can show Mr. Pamuk the way if you would show him to the staircase." Mr. Pamuk's smile tightened at Matthew's forceful tone. He glanced over at Mary briefly before moving in the direction Matthew was pointing him.

"Lock the door Mary." He didn't turn around, watching to make sure the Turkish gentleman made his way to the staircase.

"What? Why?" She questioned suspiciously as she eased the door closed slightly.

"I do not believe that Mr. Pamuk was seeking out a book for his night's entertainment." He turned, staring at her for a moment before his meaning became clear to her. The apparent shock that graced her features told Matthew all he needed to know about Mary's complicity in such a plot and he felt the muscles in his chest unclench at that. Just the thought that Mary would be subjected… He stopped those thoughts cold.

Facing her fully, his eyes roamed her face, noting her flushed appearance. "Please lock the door. I will alert the hall boy that something is not right." He said more gently. He almost reached out a hand to brush against hers before realizing he wasn't in a position where that would be a comfort for her. "Lock it now. I would like to make sure." Mary just nodded, pushing the door closed between them. The sound of the lock catching broke the quiet that had settled around them.

"Goodnight Cousin Mary." He bid through the door. Mary held her hand against the wood for a moment before clearing her throat to answer.

"Goodnight." Checking the lock once more, she hurried into bed and snuffed out her candle.

Matthew waited at the door until he saw the light disappear through the small gap on the floor before moving towards the staircase where he knew Mr. Pamuk was waiting.