Robert had said that Mary could be found in the grounds, but Matthew had never imagined finding her quite like this. A large, soft grey blanket was draped carelessly on the ground and she, the poised Lady Mary Crawley, was stretched out on it, fast asleep. A book had fallen from her hands and was by her side, disregarded by its reader. Matthew observed her, his head tilted to one side as he was finally able to appreciate her beauty without any of the disdainful looks or cutting remarks that he had come to expect from her. She shuffled a little in her sleep and gently smiled; Matthew wondered what she was dreaming of as she never looked so content when she was awake.
Matthew decided to sit beside her on the blanket, shrugging off his jacket as the afternoon sun beat down, making him disagreeably warm. He leaned back on his hands, revelling in the luxury of being so informally attired and watching the exquisite creature beside him. His eyes roamed over her body, appreciating the soft curve of her waist and the slender ankles that were exposed, her skirt slightly hitched up from lying down. Her hair had come loose and he admired the few stray curls of dark chocolate escaping from her hairpins and lying delicately on her neck.
Mary began to wriggle a little more, still soundly asleep and she began to murmur. Matthew grinned as this composed, graceful woman began to talk unintelligibly in her sleep. He thought he could distinguish a few words; a "don't", a "please"...
"Oh, Matthew..."
Matthew's grin was wiped from his face in an instant as she whispered his name. She purred with contentment, the dream making her smile ever more suggestive.
"Matthew...mmm..."
Matthew became more uncomfortable by the second as Mary unconsciously murmured his name again and again. Could she be dreaming of...no, surely not, he thought. She was a lady after all and an unmarried one at that!
"Ohhh... yes..."
Matthew gulped as her whispers became clearer and louder.
"Oh God, Matthew..."
Matthew shifted on the blanket as his thoughts became more and more uncontrollable. Mary squirmed on the blanket, her hips arching upwards as her dream raced on.
"Yes, Matthew!"
Matthew was now decidedly aroused by this beautiful woman, gasping and calling his name in ecstasy, her whispers hoarse with desire. She stretched out her willowy body, her head lolling back. He thought he had better leave quickly before she awoke to find him there staring at her and in a thoroughly... ungentlemanly state. He stood carefully, trying not to wake her. As he picked up his jacket, the sleeve brushed her bare arm and her eyes fluttered open, a satisfied smile lighting her face.
As she saw who had woken her, her eyes widened and she gasped, clapping her hand to her mouth in surprise. The too quick transition from dream-Matthew to him in reality made her head spin and she coloured a deep red in embarrassment as snippets of her dream lingered on in her mind.
Matthew stood bolt upright, holding his jacket in front of him as he realised he had done the unthinkable and woken her. He saw her embarrassment and inwardly exulted that at last, he was the one with the upper hand.
"Cousin Matthew!" she said brightly, trying to cover her discomposure. "When did you get here?"
Matthew looked at her daringly, noting her pink cheeks and the fact that she couldn't look at him.
"Oh, about ten minutes, I suppose..." he trailed off.
Mary gave a murmur of acknowledgment, for the first time in her life finding herself tongue tied.
"I'd better be going..."
Mary gave an inaudible breath of relief, her shoulders relaxing once more. He began to walk away from her, when he turned, raised one eyebrow and gave her a playful grin.
"Did you know you talk in your sleep?"
