Here's a very fluffy married Mary/Matthew story, written for this drabble challenge:
"Mary tries to bake some treat for Matthew and mucks it up horribly but he still says it is delicious?"
My muse got a bit carried away, so there's several more chapters still to come. Hope you enjoy reading!
"M'Lady, are you sure you know what you're doin'?" Mrs Bird asked as she peered down in mild repulsion at the brown mass of cake batter and currants in the bowl before her. She let her gaze flicker over her mistress' apron, following the trail of flour to her face, where it was smeared across two rosy cheeks and mixed with a blob of runny dough on the nose. She deliberately didn't look around the kitchen; heaven knows how long it would take her to clean up that mess of flour and eggs and spilled fruits. Of all the days for kitchen maid Beth to have the afternoon off to visit her sick aunt!
"Of course, Mrs Bird, Sybil told me about it in her last letter." Mary continued scooping out the dough, oblivious to the mess around and upon her, pushing it into the large cake tin Mrs Bird had grabbed off her moments before, muttering something about needing to grease it. Sybil had spoken with much enthusiasm about the cake she had baked for Branson, Tom, Mary chided herself quickly, when he had received a promotion at work. Her delight had nearly glowed from the pages and the gushing, minute detail had quite inspired Mary to try the endeavour herself. The fact that Sybil had also gone into much explanation of how pleased her husband had been at her efforts may also have helped convince Mary, though that proportion of the letter she did not divulge to her cook. And so, the idea had been simmering in Mary's mind for weeks now and today, their first anniversary and with Matthew safely out of the way at work, the opportunity was too good to miss and Mary had decided to put her plan into practice. After all, if her youngest sister Sybil could bake a cake, so could she.
"Now, how's that Mrs Bird," Mary said with a flourish, proudly holding the tin in her hands, the sticky cake batter pouring slightly over the edge as she carried it towards the oven, gracefully avoiding the slippery egg white on the kitchen floor.
"Very good, m'Lady," Mrs Bird answered, quickly opening the door and giving her mistress a steady hand to guide the cake in amongst the hot shelves. She hastily shut the door and stood up straight, her back protesting slightly. She'd worked for the Crawley's for many years now, but never had she had to work so hard since the young Mr Crawley had married a lady. Anxious to not be outdone by Mrs Patmore at the great house, she had done her uppermost to prepare only the finest meals every night for the grand lady, though this request today had quite taken her by surprise. Other than the courtesy visit, as the new lady of the house, Lady Mary simply did not visit the kitchen. So when she had appeared in the doorway after luncheon, an endearing smile upon her face and clutching a piece of crumbled paper, insisting upon baking a cake for her husband, Mrs Bird had been so taken aback she had not been able to formulate an argument against it in time. And so here she was, them both covered in flour, the kitchen surfaces and floor looking as if the great war had started again and an odd consistency of flour, dried fruits and eggs pertaining to be a cake sat in the oven. She hated to think what the resultant cake would taste like, as Lady Mary had insisted upon weighing all the ingredients herself and she had only been allowed to watch. Of course, Mrs Bird was quite sure even if she had found her wits in time, she would never have been able to dissuade the headstrong young lady from her plans. It was quite endearing really, but as Mrs Bird finally allowed her eyes to track across the white and yellow mess covering almost every surface, she knew even her patience and fondness for young love and romance had its limits.
Mary caught her cook's eye and smiled in apology. "I'm sorry, Mrs Bird, I think I've made rather a mess. I will help you clean it up."
The look of concern and mild annoyance that had been etched into the cook's face all afternoon suddenly twisted into a look of horror. She quickly pushed past her mistress, grabbing the large broom in the corner before Lady Mary got any more ideas. The chaos in her kitchen may have been the young ladies doing, but she would never let herself live to see the day her own mistress cleaned her kitchen; she did have her own pride after all. She managed to hold her tongue a moment, saying more eloquently than she felt, "You needn't trouble yourself, m'Lady, I'll have this cleaned up in a jiffy." To distract her, Mrs Bird made a point at looking at Lady Mary's dress, "May I suggest you change soon for dinner. Mr Crawley will be home soon and the cake'll take at least an hour to rise."
At this, Mary finally took in the state of her appearance, looking down at her filthy apron before reaching up to brush the sticky batter from her nose. "Yes, I think you're right." A quick look of embarrassment flashed across her face for a moment, before it was hastily replaced by her well practiced elegant and poised expression, though her hands twisting together betrayed her guilt at the mess she'd caused. Smiling down in apology at her cook, she continued, "Please do let me know when the cake is ready."
"Yes of course, m'Lady." Mrs Bird nodded in acknowledgement, though she didn't add that she had her doubts if the word cake could ever be used to describe whatever mess came out of that oven in an hour's time.
Hope you enjoyed reading it, more chapters are on their way soon!
