AN: So, I've never written a Downton Abbey Modern AU before, but I had this idea that I just couldn't leave alone. When I was in college I worked as a tour guide and eventually staff manager for the Preservation Society of Newport. I spent my summers giving tours at The Breakers, Marble House, The Elms, etc and it was ah-mazing! Really, I look back and think how lucky I was. And the people I worked with were just as colorful and interesting as the surroundings we found ourselves in. I couldn't help but think what the Crawleys would do if they had been in Downton now. And then I thought of all the other characters that we love and tried to imagine them within the structure of the organization I worked in….and this was born.
Overview: It is the modern day and Downton is the county seat of the Earl of Grantham and his family. In order to keep their ancestral home, they have turned Downton into a money-making enterprise. A beloved tourist attraction and wedding venue, Downton takes on its biggest challenge yet. When a television studio approaches the family to begin filming a period drama within its walls, the Crawleys and their employees navigate the sometimes dramatic, never dull world they find themselves in.
Characters
Violet, Dowager Countess: Matriarch of the family, Violet lives at the Dower House. As Robert's mother she has lots to say and is notoriously resistant to the trappings of the modern world. Offers commentary on the state of the family. She has also been known to hide behind drapery and listen to tours conducted in the house, and will not stop at interrupting tour guides who get information about the Crawleys wrong. She has made many of them cry.
Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham and President of Grantham Enterprises: The estate and Downton were falling apart when he was coming of age. His father had begun the idea of cashing in on the romantic notions of tourists by opening up the house to the public, but his inability to think large kept the family near debt. With foreclosure looming over their heads, Robert went to America with some mates the summer he graduated from university, and came back with a nineteen year old bride, Cora. Whether he loved her or her money at the time, is anyone's guess. But he is as devoted to her now as she has always been to him
Cora Crawley, Countess of Grantham and Vice President of Grantham Enterprises: Cora is in her late forties and was born into a family that soared to wealth fast and furiously in the sixties. Her father, Isadore, started out with one grocery store in Downtown Manhattan, Levinson's. His entrepreneurial expertise and business acumen assured that it didn't take long before that single store grew into an empire, with a Levinson's Grocers in almost every state in the country. Cora fell in love with Robert the moment she saw him sunbathing in Newport. With her own brand of intelligence and creativity, Cora eagerly helped Robert transform Downton into the most sought after events venue in Northern England.
Lady Mary Crawley, eldest daughter and Vice President of Commerce at Grantham Enterprises: Mary is a young woman in her late twenties, smart and sometimes ruthless. She has always expected to run Grantham Enterprises one day and takes her job very seriously. Constantly looking for ways to improve and secure Downton's future for generations to come, she brokers a deal with a television studio to begin filming in their home for a new period drama. Though she is never one to be without a date, her love life has really taken a back seat to her ambition, and no one ever seems to measure up to her standards. That is, until a feisty and handsome distant relation swoops into her life.
Lady Edith Crawley, middle daughter and Manager of Events at Downton Abbey: Edith is in her mid twenties. Since she was a teenager, Edith has been working under her mother, learning everything she can in the event management department. Taking on more and more responsibility, she now oversees the bulk of events that take place at Downton Abbey. With an eye for detail and a talent for event planning, Edith has catapulted Downton Abbey into THE place to get married for the wealthy set. If only she could step away from her role as the ultimate wedding planner and finally be the bride herself
Lady Sybil Crawley, youngest daughter and in her last year of university: Sybil plans to take the graphic design degree she is working towards and work at Grantham Enterprises as the Manager of Marketing and Advertising once she has completed university. What her family doesn't know is that she has been double majoring in design and nursing and plans on moving forward in her medical career. What they also don't know is that she has been indulging in a secret relationship with Tom Branson, Head Caretaker at Downton Abbey
Charles Carson, Director of Staff at Downton Abbey: Charles is the overall head honcho of staff at Downton Abbey. He has worked for Grantham Enterprises forever. Everything that happens behind the scenes goes through him and he can sometimes rule with an iron fist. His one soft spot is for Lady Mary...and Elsie
Elsie Hughes, Tour Guide Director at Downton Abbey: It's Elsie's job to make sure that the house opens everyday, ready for the public's eyes, and that her staff is present and making the experience as pleasurable as possible for the hundreds of people that come through the doors. She must also keep the peace between many departments and has on occasion had to wrangle the stray guide who has wandered into the family's private quarters.
Beryl Patmore, Head Chef and Director of Catering: It's Beryl's job to make sure each event is as savory and sweet as she can make it. If only controlling her lusty kitchen staff was as easy as making a meringue.
Tom Branson, Head Caretaker: Tom lives in the caretaker's cottage on the outskirts of Downton's property line. A young and handsome bachelor, he moved to England from Ireland with his father, who had found a job as Downton's caretaker in the Nineties when he was just a boy. After his passing, Tom took over the job, feeling like Downton was his second home. He had spent his childhood running after Sybil playing hide and seek. Now he still chases her, but for other purposes.
John Bates: Personal Assistant to Robert Crawley. They served together in the Gulf War and Bates is called in to take the job after the unexpected resignation of Robert's long time assistant. Bates is a mystery to the rest of the employees at Grantham Enterprises and his sudden installation as Robert's most trusted confidante causes friction and resentment in some members of the staff.
Anna Smith: Staff Manager at Downton, she reports directly to Mrs Hughes and oversees Downton's touring operation, making sure every tour runs smoothly. She is also Lady Mary's best friend.
Sarah O'Brien: Personal Assistant to Cora Crawley, Sarah has been with the Crawleys for a while. Duplicitous and known as a trouble maker, almost no one else likes her. Except Cora. And Thomas...though his allegiance is also questionable.
Thomas Barrow: Gift Shop Manager, he had hoped to leave the tourism sector behind and become Robert's PA when the position became available but that went to Bates and Thomas has a score to settle
Joseph Molesley: A history teacher at the Downton Village school, he works as a part time tour guide at Downton as well, often supplying heaps of additional knowledge to the tour guiding staff.
Phyllis Baxter: Head cashier in the gift shop, Phyllis has a budding friendship with Joe Molesley, but will a secret from her past ruin the new life she is creating?
Matthew Crawley: A lawyer in Manchester, Matthew is Robert's heir to the Earldom, a role he has little interest in fulfilling. He also has lots of ideas for Downton's future. Ideas that make Mary and Robert's head spin.
Isobel Crawley: Matthew's mother, she is the retired director of pediatric nursing at Manchester Memorial Hospital.
Dr Clarkson: The Crawley family's general practitioner, his offices are out of Downton Village Hospital.
Gwen Dawson: Part of Tom Branson's caretaking staff, she works inside the house cleaning, dusting and refreshing the common rooms after the tourists have left. She is also Sybil's best friend.
William Mason: Also a member of the caretaking staff, William has lived in Downton Village his whole life and his father worked at Downton as a florist for many years before retiring.
Daisy Robinson: works for Mrs Patmore. Is the subject of William's affections, much to her dismay.
Chapter 1
Robert dashed down the stairs while consulting his watch. He hesitated in the hall a moment, indecision rooting him to the carpet. If he wanted to catch his 9:30 train out of Leeds to London he really did have to leave, but the overpowering smell of breakfast wafted from the dining room, pulling him in its direction. Stepping more quickly, Robert thought he had time for at least one or two bites before speeding off to the Board of Trustees meeting he was keynoting. Almost at the large oak doors closing off the dining room, Robert spotted Carson briskly advancing from down the corridor.
The familiar face of his director of staff was a reminder that the few hours of solitude his family enjoyed each day was soon to be broken with the opening of the massive gates and the influx of eager tourists. At times it seemed odd, all those strangers ambling around the grounds and poking into the corners of the house, searching out some intriguing tidbit, gawking at the objects the Crawleys had been surrounded by since the days of the first Earls of Grantham. It had been this way for so long that Robert could barely remember what it was like to live in the enormous house by themselves and with only a handful of people to maintain it. Sometimes it seemed like a simpler existence, certainly more private. It didn't, however, pay the pile of bills that went into keeping a house like Downton.
"Good morning, Carson! Busy day ahead?" Robert called out to the pre-occupied gentleman.
"Lord Grantham." The booming bass of Carson's voice rumbled in the quiet hall. "It is indeed. The schedule is entirely full with coach tours. Mrs Hughes has just informed me that three of her guides have called out ill. And then there is the Crowborough wedding tomorrow to prepare for."
"Ahh," Robert replied, regretting his inquiry. Carson in a prickly mood was usually something he tried to avoid. "Oh, Carson, my new personal assistant is arriving today. John Bates. I won't be here to receive him but you can manage him, no? "
"Joy," Carson drolled. "I've never been one for fancy science, but perhaps there is something to be said for cloning."
"Carson," Robert warned with a chuckle. "It shouldn't cause you more work. Just show Mr Bates my office and have him meet with Thomas. He's been filling in anyway and can bring John up to speed."
"Hmph," Carson replied, turning to begin the day's preparations.
"May I take that?" Robert asked, pointing to the newspaper rolled under Carson's arm.
"Oh yes. Nothing good in it." Carson grumbled, handing over the paper.
"There never is, old boy. There never is." Robert patted Carson's shoulder before walking into the dining room.
Everything was as it usually was this time of day. Food laid out on the high boy table against the wall, the large Louis XIV table's extra leaves taken out for a more intimate family meal. Robert had expected to see Cora but was disappointed to see her chair empty. She hadn't been in bed when he had woken either, and he really did hate to leave before getting a chance to say goodbye.
"Good morning!" Robert said cheerfully, but neither girl in the room looked up at his entrance.
Mary methodically pierced her fruit with a fork and brought it to her mouth without once looking away from the tablet she worked on. She scrolled her finger over the screen furiously and as Robert peered over her shoulder, he recognized the multiple folders and organized tasks of their email system. Edith sat across from her, equally preoccupied by the clipboard she was scribbling on while sipping her coffee. Sybil's chair was predictably empty and Robert guessed she was doing what she had done every morning since returning home from university. Sleeping.
Robert sighed and placed the paper he carried at his seat before taking a plate from the buffet and inspecting the table's offerings. He furrowed his brow as he squinted into the serving dish. Poking a spoon at the lumpy yellow mass, Robert winced as the movement unleashed a watery stream of yoke.
"Did Mrs Patmore quit?" Robert inquired as he moved to the safer looking fruits and breads.
Edith chuckled behind him. "Mrs Patmore is already very busy with wedding prep. So Mama woke up early...and apparently wandered into the kitchen."
"I see." Robert said, sitting down between his daughters. "I had wondered where she'd gotten off to. Why isn't she here?"
"She didn't want to witness her family dying from food poisoning by her own hand, would be my guess." Mary quipped as she flipped the cover of her iPad over and took the last sip of her tea. "Shall we order out this evening? Or perhaps Granny will let us over for dinner."
Edith rolled her eyes. "Edna phoned at six this morning in a panic. The linens she ordered special just came in and they are not the same shade of blush as the flowers in the centerpieces. Mama is calling every shop within 80 kilometers of us to track down something more suitable."
"I find it hard to believe we can't accommodate her from what we have in storage." Robert said while buttering his toast.
"Believe it, Papa. Edna Braithwaite is the very definition of bridezilla." Mary interjected. "Mama really has had a time of it dealing with her."
Robert thought a moment then flipped to his newspaper. "Well, luckily your mama is very skilled at dealing with all sorts of demanding people."
"She would have to be, to have dealt with Granny all this time." Edith quipped. Robert raised an eyebrow at her before diving back into his reading.
The usual urgent headlines assaulted Robert as he thumbed through, trying to save any meatier news for the long train ride ahead of him. He smiled, seeing the printed announcement of the Duke of Crowborough's wedding to Edna Braithwaite. There was a nice mention of Downton as the backdrop to their nuptials, which were expected to be one of the highlights of the season.
Cora had put in many long hours working with Edna and her odious mother. Both women seemed to think they were putting on a wedding to rival the Cambridges, calling Cora with last minute changes and near impossible requests. So long as the money kept coming in Robert was able to grit his teeth, but he knew they were as high-maintenance as they came, and even Cora's reservoir of patience was running dry. She deserved a few nights away as a reward once the whole affair was over. Robert skimmed the travel section of the paper for inspiration when a small story, half way down the fourth page caught his attention.
Four dead in small aircraft crash off the coast of Ibiza.
The paper floated down from his slackened fingertips, the toast he had been chewing suddenly as dry as cardboard. Feeling around the breast pocket of his suit jacket, Robert found the phone he had slipped in there before leaving the bedroom. Fumbling it out, he saw the red line along its side indicating the silencer was still engaged. Touching the screen, the phone came alive and he only had to glance at the litany of notification alerts to know his fears were true.
Robert cleared his throat before pushing his phone back into his pocket. "If you girls will excuse me, where did you say your mother had gone off to?"
Edith looked up as Robert pushed his chair back and stood. "She's in her study."
"Right," Robert said absently before hurrying out of the library, paper in hand.
Ignoring Mary as she spoke his name, Robert traversed the familiar path from the dining room to the small sitting room that had become Cora's office some years ago. The house was waking up, the normal routine of activity underway as the caretaking staff readied Downton for the first throngs of tourists. Red velvet ropes came out from their hiding and were draped strategically to keep wandering visitors on the correct path and away from the family. Stanchions were straightened along the way to indicate the name of a room or an important artifact.
As he passed by the staff working diligently, Robert distractedly replied to their greetings. Usually he enjoyed stopping to chat with young William. Or he would stroll to the front of the house and speak with Anna about the groups scheduled to walk through. Today, he could not get away from them all fast enough. Robert was impatient to get to the sanctuary of the study tucked into the back corner of the house, away from the curious eyes that followed him down the hall.
Once he reached his destination, however, Robert found he could not cross the threshold. He lingered in the doorway, watching. Cora sat at her desk, tapping the plastic body of her computer's mouse impatiently before jogging her finger over the wheel. Oblivious to his presence, she leaned into her desk, her face inches from the phosphorous glow of the screen and squinted.
"That looks very close," Cora muttered to herself and Robert would have laughed if he had happened upon her under different circumstances.
Finally entering the room, Robert walked over to where Cora sat, soundless steps that did not break her concentration. For a moment he couldn't help but think that she looked so young still, clad in one of his white shirts and her black leggings, her long, thin legs folded underneath of her as she hunched over her desk. It was obvious she had been awakened early by Edna's phone call, throwing on whatever she could, squeezing in time to prepare their breakfast before coming up to work. The picture of her tiredly standing in the cavernous kitchen, gulping down her coffee while bungling the eggs gripped his throat. Robert felt as though he were letting her down somehow, delivering this news and he wanted to shield her from it, and all of the tangled mess that would follow.
"Do you always talk to yourself while you work?" Robert asked softly, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes.
"Oh," Cora exclaimed, jumping in her seat. Like a schoolgirl caught doing something naughty, she quickly unfolded her legs and sat straighter. Robert touched her shoulder.
"I thought I had missed you!" Cora said, getting out of her chair and smiling. "I'm glad I didn't but you are going to be dreadfully late for your meeting."
"I've rescheduled." Cora was on her tip toes, reaching up to kiss Robert's cheek when he spoke. His words stopped her in mid-movement and she searched his face, the smile she'd had wilting.
"Robert?" She said his name, and he could hear the slight waver his actions had triggered.
Robert reached down and took her hand. "You should sit down."
Cora's eyes widened. "You're scaring me."
Robert pulled her, gently but firmly to the small sofa occupying the room and he guided them both down. Her eyes darted around the contours of his features, confused and worried as she tried to find some clue to his strange behavior. Taking the newspaper he had kept rolled up under his arm, Robert handed it to her. He watched as she slowly took it and scanned the page and he saw the moment she read the awful news. Cora's mouth slackened and her sharp intake pierced the room.
"No," Cora breathed, looking up at him. Already he could see the tears forming.
"It's James and Patrick," Robert replied, though she had seen their names in print. "They were in that plane."
"Oh God!" Cora inhaled, her hand coming up to her mouth. "Are they…". Robert nodded and her words fell away.
"This complicates...everything." Robert explained quietly.
Cora moved her head in agreement, but shock clouded her eyes as they stared over his shoulder, unfocused . "What will happen now?" She asked, eventually collecting herself enough to speak.
Robert shook his head and pulled away from her, planting his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands. His palms rubbed furiously over his hair as though he tried to rub the predicament they found themselves in out of his thoughts. His grief would come, especially for Patrick, the young man who was his heir, who had grown up running through the halls of Downton just as loudly and happily as his own girls.
The young man he had thought would be his son in law.
He would need to tell Mary. Yes, grief would come, but now, now there was just the gaping chasm of uncertainty stretching out before him. Who would he turn to now to take it all over one day? Who would inherit Cora's fortune?
"I don't know darling. I just don't know." Robert replied after falling back into the cushions of the sofa.
Cora had remained in the study after Robert had left, reassuring him that she was fine, but it had been a lie. Guilt was starting to seep up from the bottom of her gut and she felt incredibly weak, hiding in there while Robert was left to tell Mary, to start making the arrangements. He had been anxious to move after all had been said, clearly needing the distraction of the tasks ahead of him. His blue eyes had been dull, troubled and though James and Patrick's deaths were a blow they hadn't anticipated, there seemed to be something else lurking under the pall hanging over him.
Her stomach churned uncomfortably, a reminder that she had been pulled out of bed much too early by Edna Braithwaite's ridiculous demands. Pressing her hand into her belly, the light from the window caught the edges of her diamond ring and threw sparkling prisms of light onto the coffee table. After all of these years it was still a brilliant stone, but it only served to remind her that she had failed. She had made vows to Robert and had let him down.
And with Patrick's death, a renewed revulsion by her own incompetence took hold. It stoked the blame she placed on herself for never giving Robert the son he needed, the son he wanted. If she had only been stronger, they could have kept trying until they had succeeded. But fate had intervened and Sybil had been their last.
"I thought you could use a bit of tea."
Cora shook herself from her dark thoughts to see Sarah O'Brien entering the room, teacup in one hand, leather bound appointment book in the other. The woman's refusal to embrace the digital age when it came to time management was a tick Cora enjoyed teasing her about but the sight of the book now only stirred her anxiety. She was wasting time wallowing when the house would be transformed for one of the biggest weddings of the decade in twenty-four hours. How was she to get through it now, with Patrick and James's deaths overshadowing everything? Cora leaned forward to get up but Sarah waved her back down, handing her the steaming cup.
"Lord Grantham informed me of what happened. What a tragedy." Sarah sighed as she carefully took a seat beside her.
Cora glanced over the rim of her cup and hummed. "Yes, it's very sad."
"Well," Sarah declared, opening up her planner. "We need to shift around some of these appointments."
"Oh, I don't know what is happening yet, Sarah. It seems premature to cancel anything before plans have been made." Cora said, looking over the woman's shoulder. Sarah's precise and small penmanship was etched into the blocks on the calendar, each day seeming more full than the one before it. Cora let out a breath, her shoulders slumping. The sheer bulk of her schedule, usually something that invigorated her, gave her purpose, suddenly felt like an albatross hanging from her neck.
"There is plenty here that can be shifted to Edith." Sarah countered. "Now I won't hear an argument. You've taken too much on as it is this summer."
Cora huffed weakly. "I like the work."
Sarah tsked in response before plunging into the calendar on her lap. Sometimes Cora wondered who the boss was and who the employee when it came to Sarah O'Brien. But Cora enjoyed the woman's wit and tenacity, traits she didn't see in herself and Sarah was excellent at her job. Cora was sure she would be lost without her.
Sarah set to work moving appointments around while Cora looked on, drinking her tea and thinking. Only marginally paying attention to Sarah's suggestions, she nodded her head without really knowing what she agreed to, too caught up in the worries filling her mind. At the end, thoughts of her oldest daughter persisted. Mary would be most affected by what had happened. Now that the initial shock had worn off, Cora was eager to speak with her.
Placing her teacup on the small table by the sofa, Cora rose to her feet. Her movement shook Sarah from her concentration and the woman looked up at her with confusion.
"I leave you to make sense of it all, Sarah. I must speak with Mary." Cora said.
"It must be a very difficult thing for Lady Mary." Sarah said, her words measured as she peered up at Cora and shook her head slowly. Something about the thin line of Sarah's lips, the hood of her eyelids that hid the steely probe directed at her made Cora shutter. Quickly she wiped away any of the emotions she often let pass over her face.
"Yes, well. If you'll excuse me." Cora stammered before hurrying from the room.
Forgetting herself, and the time of day, Cora's determined steps brought her right into the middle of a large group tour gathering in the great hall. She stopped short, attempting to back pedal her progress without being seen, but the familiar form of her mother in law emerged from the crowd, parting the sea of strangers like a modern day Moses. When Violet saw her, she lifted the head of her cane up to catch her attention, the silver filagree glittering in the filtered sunlight, and Cora's stomach flipped. By the severe set of her jaw, and the speed with which she moved, it was evident she had heard about James and Patrick.
Violet was standing in front of her in no time, jutting her cheek out. Cora placed the obligatory kiss upon it. "Hello, Mama." Her greeting was quiet.
"Where can we talk?" Violet questioned.
"Ms O'Brien is in my study. Let's go to the small library." Cora suggested, touching Violet's elbow.
The tip-tap of Violet's cane slapping the marble floor as she followed behind Cora echoed in the hall and sent a hush over the tourists waiting to see the house. Their eyes followed them and Cora unhitched the rope cordoning off the room to let Violet pass. Placing the latch back, she then shut the door and let out the breath she had held.
Violet immediately sat on one of the small benches against the windows, eyes steady on Cora. Cora swallowed, waiting for her mother in law to speak first. Growing impatient, Violet lifted her eyes to the ceiling before rolling them back again and sighing.
"How has Mary taken the news?" Violet inquired and Cora shrugged.
"Robert was speaking with her. I was on my way to find her when you arrived." Cora hinted, hoping the woman would release her and let her get back to her original intention.
Violet did not move from her seat. "You do realize the implications now."
Cora slowly lowered herself into Robert's desk chair. "I don't know that she was really going to marry him anyway."
Violet closed her eyes and waved her hand, agitated. "That makes no difference. Even if they hadn't, at least Patrick understood the importance of Grantham Enterprises and Downton."
Cora crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't understand."
Violet pursed her lips. "Mary will run Grantham Enterprises one day. Now someone else will eventually inherit Downton and your fortune that's entailed to it. Patrick would have been willing to work with her. But do you think some distant cousin is going to let Mary make money off of his home?"
A hiccup of bile rose in Cora's throat. "I didn't think…".
"The Crawleys will be out of Downton and without it there will be no Grantham Enterprises." Violet punctuated her point with a jab of her cane on the parquet floor. "Mary will lose everything except for the little money she'll be able to retain from the business. Not to speak of Edith and Sybil."
Cora stood and paced the small area, a room that suddenly felt two times smaller as she wore a path in its length. Robert had poured everything into building Grantham Enterprises and preserving Downton. It had all been for some future generation, so that the Crawleys might endure. And now that future was unknown, some faceless adversary that would take everything. Shallow breaths teased her lungs and Cora sat again, fatigued to her bone. She met Violet's stare, and she didn't need to hear Violet's inner thoughts to know what the woman wanted to say. It was written in the narrow squint of her eyes. It was written in the ache of her own heart. Blame. Disappointment. Broken.