"Why don't you get in a car with him and get over it?"
Lady Mary Crawley, no, Talbot, looked at the man beside her with wide, surprised eyes. She steels herself, eyes narrowing and fists clenching as she gathered herself preparing for a fight.
It was what they always did best. Argue and make up.
"He drives…races…oh you know why I won't!"
He laughs and leans back against the stone, staring up into the sky.
"Of course I do. But you really need to get over it, especially if you want to really support him," he says, his eyes blinking in the shining sun.
"Don't make light of this, please don't. I just…it's difficult," she huffs.
There is a silent pause. The wind rustled the trees nearby and it seemed for a moment that everything was falling away as both tried to think of what next to say.
"Mary, I know it's difficult for you to accept that part of him. But I thought you'd made peace with it. I thought you'd at least try. I fully understand why you won't want to be there but my darling this is only holding you back."
"In what way? Do you not want me to come? To ever visit? You once told me I rarely visit and you whinged and whinged that last time I was here."
"You know that's not what I mean."
She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.
"My darling you can't keep coming here every time he has a race. It's not good for you."
She tries to interrupt but his finger stops her lips.
"It's not good for you to remind yourself that the last time you had someone in a car, your husband died. It's not good for you to come here and relive that moment, even if you don't see him drive fast and think he's being reckless, you make it worse by coming here and seeing the last man you saw drive in a car and end up dead."
She casts her eyes downward unwilling to look into his blue eyes.
"It isn't why I come here. When he races I don't even want to think of what happened then. I will myself to forget my fear of being a crash widow once more. No, I come here to clear my head. To feel peaceful, to get ready. I come here because you're here and you still make me feel calm and be focused. I come here not to escape my darling, I come here so that when he comes back, I'm not a hysterical mess and I can be happy for him when he wins or comfort him when he loses," she says her voice getting stronger and she finally stares into his eyes.
"My darling—," he starts but it's her turn to interrupt him.
"To tell you the truth, not even riding a car with him in the drivers' seat will ever make me get over it. I will always be scared, I may never be able to go and watch another race of his. But everyday, after I come here, I feel better. I feel stronger knowing that you approve so I can go back home and be strong for him."
He is quiet, listening to the wind rustling the trees and the birds singing their baleful afternoon song. He pauses and tries to listen for her heartbeat.
"I'm glad you can be strong for him. My Mary Crawley would never not be strong for anyone," he says quietly, staring intently into her eyes.
"And I'm your Mary Crawley always. I just need to be reminded that I can be yours and his and mine from time to time," she replies.
He reaches for her hand then stops.
"Mary I want you to know that you never needed to seek my forgiveness. I told you before, there is nothing to forgive. It was time you moved on. I don't really know how you fell in love but you did and that is what's important, your happiness."
She smiles her widest smile.
"I should go. They'd be coming in soon and I have to be ready when they do," she said wistfully, not wanting to leave just yet.
"Go on then. Give my love to George, hug him extra tight," he crinkles his eyes.
Mary touches her ungloved hand to her lips, kisses it and presses her palm into the cold stone. She strokes it as if batting away a stray hair from blue eyes and turns, walking away from the cemetery back to Downton.