An Interlude - Prologue

October, 1919

"Is Richard coming up from London?" Matthew asks.

"Yes," Mary replies. "He'll be here tomorrow afternoon. For Mama's dinner party, and then he wants to go over to Haxby."

"Ah. Haxby."

"Yes," she says again, her tone noticeably less friendly, either in distaste at the destination or at his obvious derision of it. "Haxby."

"I only meant-" Matthew starts, but Mary interrupts him.

"I know," Mary says, "and it's fine, Matthew. It's fine."

"Is it really, Mary? Because, you know that if I-"

Again, Mary interrupts. "Don't, Matthew, please. Not when we've had such a lovely afternoon."

Matthew knows Mary well enough to back away. Whatever this is, whatever is happening between them, he doesn't want to push it. He can't give her what Carlisle can, and their renewed friendship has been one of the bright points of the summer and fall.

A few moments later, Mary throws the duvet back and sits up, reaching for her dressing gown. "I'm going down to change for dinner. Carson will ring the dressing gong any moment and I don't want Anna to get suspicious."

Matthew thinks that Anna must know exactly what's going on by now, but he doesn't say anything. He sits up as well and leans over to kiss Mary's back. Moving her hair over her shoulder, he kisses her neck. Mary leans into him, her hand reaching back and finding its way into his hair.

"Matthew," Mary says quietly. If she doesn't leave now, they really will get caught.

He relents. "Go," he says, smiling. "I'll sneak out the back-"

"Just to come back through the front," she finishes. It's become something of a joke between them.

Mary stands up, not bothering to tie her dressing gown, and puts on her clothes. She walks back to Matthew, who has been lying in the bed, watching her. "I'll see you later," she says quietly, and kisses him on the forehead before walking out the door.