A/N: Well, I can't say that I'm one hundred percent happy with the way that this oneshot turned out, but I'm afraid that this is as good as it's going to get. :P

Disclaimer: Downton Abbey belongs to a million people who don't happen to be me.

Too Much Information

There was a knock on the bedroom door, and Cora looked up from her book in time to see her eldest daughter enter the room. She smiled as Mary appraised her from the doorway.

"How was your trip from London?" she asked her, smiling.

Mary rolled her eyes. "You know what the trains are like. I was glad to get off it. And Aunt Rosamund insisted on making the trip to the station simply awful."

"Why was that?" Cora asked, concerned, but Mary shook her head. She did not want to go into the details of how her aunt had pestered her to decline Matthew's hand in marriage.

"It doesn't matter, not right now. I thought I'd see how the patient is doing." She looked her mother up and down for even the slightest sign of her condition.

"The patient is just fine, dear. Dr. Clarkson said I should start showing soon," Cora told her, noticing her daughter's straying glance, smiling softly as she placed a hand over her abdomen, where her fourth child was currently sleeping.

Mary lingered by the door for a few moments before drawing up the chair that usually sat at the vanity table. She reached out for her mother's hand and linked their fingers together, her eyes warm. This – her mother's unexpected condition – changed everything for everyone, from the servants to Mrs. Crawley, but right now she could not dwell on that. Ever since the news had reached her in London, the matter had plagued her. She did not know what to do. Matthew's proposal tormented her mind and threatened to tear her apart at the seams, but for the moment that had to be pushed to the side. Her mother was the most important thing at present and Mary had silently promised to make sure that she had everything she could possibly need. She had to fill the part of the perfect daughter, a role that she had been sadly neglecting in the past couple of years.

"I thought Papa was teasing when he telephoned me," she commented. "I didn't think I'd have another sibling after Sybil."

"Everyone is in shock," the older woman admitted. "Even I'm finding it difficult to believe."

"But you're pleased?"

Cora smiled, the expression enough to light up the room. "I am. I can't say that's it's going to be easy…but you and your sisters are so grown up now and I can't mother you the way I used to. This child will give me one last chance to do that. I suppose it's a little selfish to admit that I've missed that."

Mary nodded, pretending to understand. She couldn't say that she was particularly thrilled with the idea of playing older sister to a child more than twenty years her junior, but she was sure that she would grow to love it all the same. She loved Sybil, didn't she? And she even loved Edith in a twisted, less fulfilling sort of way, because despite the fact that Edith could be a horrid creature, she was still her sister. An innocent little baby would be much easier to lavish attention on than a young woman who had gone out of her way these past two years to make Mary's life an absolute misery.

"Have you given the baby's identity any thought?" she asked tentatively.

Cora frowned. "I don't want to think about it. Not now. It would be unwise to get your father's hopes up if it turns out to be another girl. The two of us don't seem to be a very good match when it comes to continuing the family line."

"Having three girls does seem to suggest that," Mary agreed airily, though there was no bitterness in her tone. She knew better than to argue with her mother over her father's feelings for his girls. It was obvious that her father adored each of his daughters; he'd never judged any of them for not being male. She felt horrible for even stating otherwise when she'd lost her temper.

"And what about you?" Cora asked at length. "Are you pleased?"

"I won't pretend that I was expecting it," said Mary. "But I suppose it will be a little easier to play the part of the older role model now that I'm not as young myself."

Her mother smiled fondly. "Sybil in particular seems very happy about the arrangement. She said that she's glad because it takes the pressure off her being the youngest."

Mary nodded, saying nothing about the pressure of being the eldest. Her thoughts had begun to drift back to Matthew. How had he taken the news of Cora's pregnancy? Was he worried about the answer that she would give him? Her mind was in turmoil. There were so many things she should say, so many things that she wanted to say, and now she had no idea of how to formulate them all into words. She wished that life could be simple. But her feelings for Matthew weren't simple; they were complex and twisting and forever changing like the tide and she just could not decide on what she wanted.

She stood abruptly, feeling the inexplicable urge to get out of the room and away from the problems that it brought with it. Cora's eyes were on her at once, wide and confused as she regarded her eldest child.

"Darling?" she asked in concern. "Whatever is the matter?"

She tried to smile, but it did not quite reach her eyes. "Nothing, Mama. But I really ought to go and see how Anna is faring with the unpacking. I'll be back soon."

"All right, then," her mother said, her expression bemused. "If you see your papa on the way would you be a dear and let him know that I'd like to see him?"

"I'm sure Papa will be waiting to get back in here as soon as he can," mused Mary with a wry smile. "He's probably loitering outside the door as we speak."

Cora laughed flippantly, the sound lightening the room once more. "You're probably right about that," she said ruefully, but there was an adoring smile playing at her lips. For the first time in a long time, Mary realised that her parents loved each other deeply. That aspect of their relationship was always overlooked, it seemed. She'd spent so much time simply looking at them as just her mama and papa that she'd forgotten they were real people with real feelings.

Although perhaps there was a reason for that – especially when she now had to think of how her mama had gotten pregnant this time around in the first place…

What a disturbing thought.

"I'll get going now," she said quickly, attempting to push it away, bending it to press a kiss against her mother's cheek. "I'll be back later to see how you are."

"Okay, darling."

At the door, Mary turned back to her mother. There was a strange expression on her face, one torn between mirth and disgust. Cora raised her eyebrow in question.

"What's the matter, dear?" she asked.

Mary shook her head with a twist of her mouth – one of revulsion or amusement, Cora could not tell. "Nothing, Mama. It's just that this child makes a lot of things plainer than I care for. No child really wants to know that their parents are still intimate with each other."

Lady Grantham opened her mouth indignantly, feeling a flush creeping its way up her neck, but Mary waved away any protest that her mother might have had with her hand.

"I thought it was bad enough knowing that the two of you still shared a bed," Mary continued. "But knowing that you still…well, it's far too much information, thank you very much."

"You of all people should know that children aren't brought by the stork," said Cora musingly. The blush was still very much present on her face, and her hands twisted together in embarrassment.

Mary winced at the veiled jab. "We don't need to bring that up again, Mama."

"Sorry, darling." Cora heaved a sigh, passing her hands over her face. "Now, be off with you. And let's pretend that the end of this conversation never happened."

Mary smirked cheekily, opening the door so that she could exit. "If you wish, Mama. I'll see you later."

Cora nodded as her eldest child left. She heard the sound of muffled voices from further down the corridor, and seconds later her husband had entered her chamber. He smiled at her as he made his way over to the bed, slipping onto it beside her. His hands found hers and he leaned in to press a protective kiss against her temple.

"You don't need to fuss, dear," Cora murmured, betraying her enjoyment of her husband's ministrations by snuggling into his side.

"I wouldn't be a very good husband if I didn't fuss," he murmured against her hair. He pulled back, suddenly noticing the heat in her cheeks. "Cora, darling, what's the matter? Are you ill?"

She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks more pointedly. He could hear the smile in her voice as she muffled it against his skin. "Trust me when I say you don't want to know."

Robert raised his eyebrow in confusion, but said no more as Cora pressed her mouth against his neck.

Well, he decided, it must simply have been another womanly thing. And he didn't need to know anything more about that.

A/N: I'd appreciate you leaving your views on this one. :)