Resurrection - Part III

by MsMenna

This final installment details the first days of Matthew and Mary's reunion upon his returning to her New Year's Eve, 1923 after recovering his memory. It not only paints a picture of the soulmates' happy reunion but their struggle to come to terms with the lives they led when neither knew the other existed. Also solves mystery of Matthew's survival.

No sooner had Mary stepped out of her husband's arms than she found herself and Matthew pulled into a tight embrace by their brother-in-law Tom, the strapping Irishman drawing them toward him with such force that their heads nearly collided.

"May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past," Tom said loud enough to be heard above the sounds of merriment that filled the room.

Neither the future Earl of Grantham nor his wife were given the opportunity to respond to their captor's good wishes as they were released by him as quickly as they had been gathered up, the two left off balance with dazed expressions on their faces.

Regaining her equilibrium, Mary followed Tom's footsteps and found he continued to make optimum use of his reach as he now had his brawny arms wrapped around her cousin Rose and sister, Edith.

"He has been a rock for me since you were gone," she said, assuming her husband had been following her line of vision. "I truly don't know how I would have managed without him."

Though when Mary turned back to Matthew, she found her assumption incorrect as his attention lay elsewhere.

"I am forever grateful to Tom for the support he has given you, darling…and I will make certain that he knows that before the night is out. However, I need to spend a few moments with someone else who is near and dear to my heart right now."

Mary smiled in her mother-in-law's direction and said, "Please give Isobel my best wishes, Matthew. I know that I have monopolized you since your arrival and have no doubt she will welcome a few moments of your undivided attention."

"She will have much more than that quite soon as we have made plans for a long visit at Crawley House tomorrow," Matthew replied, smiling as he caught his mother's eye. "I would have done so sooner, but she insisted I not come while the London guests still here," he added before planting a quick kiss on Mary's cheek and heading off.

Mary scanned the room and smiled as she took note of the happy and hopeful expressions on the faces of those around her. Then her grin morphed into laughter as she saw Isobel spinning Matthew around like a top and giving him a gentle push in her direction. Knowing how she had grieved when she believed him dead, her mother-in-law's selfless action touched her deeply.

Like a fledgling bird being ousted from its nest, Matthew gave his mother a quick peck on her cheek, turned on his heel and headed back to his wife, shrugging his shoulders in response to her raised eyebrows.

"It appears you are stuck with me," he teased upon reaching Mary.

"It would seem so," she replied with as straight a face as she could muster before taking her husband's arm and leading him to her parents.

Their arms locked together as they had been most of the day, Mary and Matthew strolled around the room wishing whoever crossed their path good tidings before moving on. Reaching the spot where the piano sat, they found Edith seated at it and Lilian Pomeroy standing over her, the two conversing amiably until they spotted them approaching.

The comely nurse, who had cared for Matthew when he suffered amnesia in London, addressed her hostess first, catching her off guard with, "Your sister has told me that you have quite a lovely singing voice."

"Has, she?" the elder Crawley daughter drawled with an acerbic note to her voice.

Lilian's mouth twitched as she saw Edith lower her head to avoid her sister's narrowed eyes, clearly amused by the siblings' behavior. Then, she added fuel to the fire by continuing, "And that you two performed musicals for injured military that recuperated here during the war."

Recalling the act she and Edith had put together while Downton served as a rehabilitative facility, Mary smiled and said, "We called ourselves the Crawley sisters. Not very original, I'm afraid."

"Original or not, you both were wonderful," Matthew piped in with a look in his eyes that made it clear that he, too, had taken a short walk down memory lane.

Her face flushed by the considerable amount of champagne she had consumed and her brother-in-law's compliment, Edith declared, "I dare say we were."

To Mary's chagrin, Lilian then came up with the idea of the Crawley sisters coming out of retirement, clarifying "for just one song" when she saw her horrified expression.

Though she had no desire to sing, Mary found herself in a dilemma since it was difficult for her to deny the woman who played such an important role in making Matthew whole again. Then there was Edith, who at that moment had an I dare you to look upon her face and her perfectly manicured nails hovering tantalizingly over the piano keys.

Feeling confident that she had one sister won over, Lilian added a bit of incentive to sway the other by adding, "It would be such a wonderful way to welcome in the new year…and Matthew's return,"

"I'm game if you are," Edith challenged.

Mary gave each woman a severe look, knowing she was being manipulated and none too happy about it. Then her rising indignation was dampened as Matthew made his feelings on the matter known.

"Go ahead, darling. I'd love to hear you sing," he pleaded with his head cocked to one side and a hopeful look in his bright blue eyes.

She had seen that look upon their son George's face that very morning when he pulled a cookie that he had stashed away out from under his cousin Sybbie's bed pillow with the hope she would allow him to eat it. Having found it was stale, she could not oblige him, but she had sent his Nanny down to the kitchen to fetch him a freshly baked one. When she presented it to the little tot, his face glowed as bright as the Christmas tree standing in the Great Hall. Her desire to see that look replicated by her husband led her to agree to Lilian's' request.

Having made her decision, she nodded in the nurse's direction and switched places with her at Edith's side to confer on a choice of song. Once they were in agreement, Mary addressed the inquisitive crowd that had begun to gather around them and announced the plan that had been hatched.

"Edith and I haven't performed together in a decade, so please don't expect much," she forewarned the delighted group before clearing her throat and nodding at her sister to begin.

The introduction to the song brought Mary back to the most memorable time she had sung it. Though family and friends stood before her now, in her mind's eye she saw rows of battered soldiers, some with their heads bandaged, others sporting an eye patch or cast on one limb or another with crutches resting against their chair.

Mary remembered, too, how she had felt that day, having learned from Edith that Matthew had gone missing along with their former footman, William. There was a good chance that he and his batman had been killed or taken prisoner. That possibility had made her feel like screaming at the top of her lungs and not stopping.

Yet she had somehow managed to maintain her composure and go on with the show, finding she could not deny those who had sacrificed so much for king and country the small pleasure she and her sister could bring them.

The parallels between then and now were not lost on Mary, and just before the note that was her cue to begin, she asked herself for the second time that day if there was a limit to the number of miracles one person is granted. Then she stood tall, squared her shoulders and sang loud and clear.

"If you were the only girl in the world…

And I were the only boy…

Nothing else would matter in the world today…

We could go on loving in the same old way…

A Garden of Eden, just made for two…

With nothing to mar our joy…,"

She stopped there, finding herself suddenly overcome with emotion as she envisioned Matthew in uniform walking into the makeshift concert hall with William at his side, then Matthew stepping out of his London physician's car into the moonlight, alive and well despite all odds.

Lost in her musings, Mary didn't take notice that he had come to her side, but she did feel his hand giving her arm a gentle squeeze and turned to him as he picked up the next verse of the song in his own melodious voice.

She chimed in quickly as she had the first time she had faltered mid-stream and side by side, the two of them harmonized,

"I would say such wonderful things to you…

There would be such wonderful things to do…

If you were the only girl in the world…

And I were the only boy…"

As the old Rudy Vallee tune came to an end, Matthew pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. Mary rested it against his shoulder and kept it there as she awaited a reaction from the crowd, feeling certain the last few bits of their impromptu performance went quite well. However, for a long moment, the only sound that reached her ears was that of one man or another clearing his throat and a few distinctly female muffled sobs.

Then as though a starting gun had been fired at a race track, the silence was broken as the group broke out into a rousing applause.

…

Not long after Mary and Matthew's well-received duet, the festivities began to wind down as the events of the day took a toll on each person who had played a part in them; and one by one, the Crawleys and their guests bid each other a goodnight. By the time the clock struck 1:00, only a few remained in the drawing room.

Isobel and the Dowager Countess had been driven home a half hour earlier by Tom. Their departure followed quickly by the current Countess of Grantham and her sister-in-law, Rosamund Painswick, both ladies claiming they were overwhelmed by fatigue.

Seated on the small settee near the fireplace in order to giver her aching feet a rest, Mary envied her mother's and aunt's exit as she, too, yearned for the comfort of her bed. Feeling physically and mentally drained, she breathed a huge sigh of relief when she overheard Edith and their cousin Rose offer to usher the London guests to their rooms. Once the obligatory good nights were dispensed with, only three Crawleys remained in the drawing room.

Mary, her husband and father stood in a semi-circle amidst the empty champagne bottles and dying embers in the hearth. The Earl removed his hand from the mantle and patted Matthew's arm affectionately. Then, turned his attention to her and kissed her cheek.

"I gather I'll see you both at breakfast," he said, smiling broadly at them. "I don't think I can adequately describe how saying those words makes me feel."

"You don't have to, Papa," Mary replied, beaming at her father. "We know precisely what you mean."

His grin still in place, the Earl nodded quickly, dropped his hands to his sides and headed for the door.

….

Mary wrapped her arms around her bare shoulders to ward off the chill that now permeated the room and turned to Matthew.

Taking note of his wife's discomfort and his own fatigue, he asked her, "Shall we go up, darling?"

"I thought you would never ask," Mary replied, flashing him a smile.

Returning it, Matthew reached for her hand and interlocked their fingers. Then the tired but happy couple made their way out of the room with their conjoined arms swinging back and forth like two children setting off on an adventure.

…

Matthew opened the door to their bedroom and stood off to the side to allow Mary to pass through the threshold first. The light that flooded into the room from the gallery gave him a clear view of his wife's swaying hips and shapely bottom, and his eyes remained glued on both as she strode toward their bed.

Stopping once she reached the foot board, Mary remained in place with her nearly bare back to her husband until she heard the click of the door closing. Turning, she found Matthew with his back pressed against it staring intently at her, his eyes sparkling like blue diamonds as the fire in the grate cast an ethereal glow on all it touched.

"In this light and that dress you remind me of Phidias' sculpture of the Athena. The resemblance is remarkable," he said, smiling seductively.

She felt herself blush as Matthew's eyes raked over her body until they locked on her own and bore into them. Frozen in place by his piercing gaze, she could feel her body temperature beginning to rise, her palms becoming damp and cheeks flushed with the rising heat.

Finding herself under such intense scrutiny, Mary found his gaze unsettling and lowered her eyes to the floor. Though soon any insecurity she felt was extinguished by her mounting desire. Her head rose slowly and she looked at Matthew as though he were a target in her sights, one she must hit in order to counter the assault he had launched on her senses.

"If memory serves me, that particular Greek goddess was a very wise and courageous woman," Mary said, a playful tone in her voice as she made her way to him.

Matthew's mouth curled upward before he replied, "Quite right. As I said, the resemblance is remarkable."

In seconds, they stood so close together that she could feel the warmth of his breath washing over her face. He took her hand in his and turning it over, began tracing small circles on her palm with his index finger as though he were memorizing every line. Then he dragged it up her arm, stopping at the small crevice between her collarbone and shoulder.

Goosebumps rose on her bare skin and her heartbeat picked up speed as she fixed her sight on Matthew's hand. Then she felt his free one under her chin, nudging her head up so that their eyes met again.

"You are so beautiful," he said before pulling her into his arms and taking her breath away.

…

Mary lay flat on her back atop the red bed coverlet with Matthew draped over her now naked body. Like tinder set ablaze, the flames that engulfed her were stoked higher and higher by hands made rough since they had last touched her and soft lips.

Don't stop, she silently begged as Matthew raised his head and took a sharp intake of breath. Come back to me, she pleaded as seconds that felt like hours ticked away. Then, as though he were reading her mind, Matthew obliged her with a kiss that would have buckled her knees had she been standing.

A trail of moist heat ran down the side of Mary's neck before settling on her collar bone and searing it. As she reveled in the feeling it generated, a long moan reached her ears. Rational thought expunged by passion, it took her a few moments to come to the realization that the sound emanated from her own mouth.

She bit down hard on her lip in an effort to silence any further outbursts, her self-induced pain quickly forgotten as Matthew's mouth found new purchase. Yes, darling…lower….lower…that's it…take it…I want you to…Oh God…Yes… you know how that drives me mad…ran through Mary's swimming head as her body melted into the mattress. Now the other…you mustn't neglect that…

She gasped and then a pronounced, "Mmmm," escaped her lips in spite of her efforts to remain quiet as she clasped one hand behind Matthew's head and locked it in place while her own rolled back in ecstasy.

The sensations that held her in rapture were now multiplied as she became cognizant of one of her husband's long fingers gliding downward over her slick skin, causing ripples in its wake. Mary gasped, her pelvis thrust upward of its own accord to meet Matthew's now anchored hand before her silent demands resumed. A little more to the left …just a tiny bit more, darling and you will …Yes…Yes… that's the spot…Now if you just…just…

This time there was no doubt in Mary's mind that she was the origin of the sounds of rapture that filled the room. However, she made no attempt to silence her response to her husband's ministrations as she knew with certainty that she did not have the wherewithal to do so.

Her heart pounded inside her chest as through it were hell bent on breaking through its walls and she was panting like a racehorse at the finish line. Fueled by desire and a dire need for release, she focused her attention on Matthew, taking matters into her own hands in order to steer him in the right direction. Her guidance adhered to, the next gasp that reached Mary's ears was not hers.

All thoughts ceased, along with any conception of time and place. There was nothing now but this act, this primal declaration of love driving them hard and fast until they reached a pinnacle that only lovers know before they plummeted over the precipice in each other's arms.

…

Totally spent, Mary lay in Matthew's arms with her head resting on his shoulder as she let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. She felt giddy with happiness and smiled, feeling certain that she was the most fortunate woman on the face of the earth.

That realization led her to once more give thanks to God that Matthew survived an accident that could easily have killed him and for bringing him back to her, even if he had taken an abominably long time in doing so. Thinking better of that last bit, Mary changed her tune to better late than never; and she was in the process of offering the Supreme Being her mea culpa when the sound of Matthew's voice broke her out of her musings.

"I need to ask you a question, Mary," Matthew said, his tone of voice having an ominous ring to it.

Like a party balloon on a string that has slipped through a child's fingers and carried by the wind to a thorny bush, Mary's contentment popped.

"Only one?" she replied in as light a tone as she could muster.

But Matthew was having none of it, his silence a clear indication that he was in no mood for banter. After a few moments made agonizing by her anxiety, Mary felt his chest rise and fall as he took in a long, deep breath and let it out. Then the question she dreaded most came rushing out of his mouth.

"Have you been romantically involved with either Mr. Blake or Lord Gillingham?"

Her head felt as though it weighed considerably more than it had when she woke that morning as she propped it on her elbows so that she could face Matthew; and once they were eye to eye, she bit the bullet.

"They both have been vying for my attention for some time," she confessed. "And I admit that I encouraged them, thinking you were lost to me forever."

Matthew stared blankly at her for a long moment before he blinked and turned his head away, breaking the tie that had existed between them.

Though she could no longer search her husband's eyes, she had no doubt she would find pain in them if she could. Knowing that her words were the cause of it, her head dropped.

"I was so terribly lonely, Matthew," she muttered, her own eyes cast down.

The future Earl's head snapped back to its original position and he placed his hand underneath his wife's chin, gently guiding her head back up until their eyes were level again.

"You did nothing wrong, darling. I would have wanted you to move on with your life if I were no longer part of it. I mean that, Mary."

She stared at him, wondering if his kindness had any limits; and as his lips slowly curled into a smile, came to doubt it.

Returning it, she inwardly debated whether she should quit the painful topic altogether. I could leave it here, she reasoned. Matthew will not pressure me to say more. He will let me leave it here.

She grimaced then, unable to prevent her rational mind from presenting the opposing view in her self-contained argument. If you stop here, Matthew will go on wondering and God only knows what his imagination will conjure up.

Her reasoning made a compelling case for full disclosure and sealed her decision. I will not keep him in the dark, Mary resolved. He has been living in it far too long.

"It would be easier if I were a good liar…," she began. Then added, "...but nothing has changed with regard to my inadequacy in the art of deception since you asked me if I were one the day our first engagement fell apart."

"I have not doubted your word once since that day, Mary," Matthew said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

The inside of her mouth was so dry that it made it difficult for her to swallow let alone speak, but she had made up her mind and now it was time to deliver on her promise.

Mary licked her lips with the little saliva she could muster and spit out, "I will not lie and say I was not attracted to them both, Matthew; but that feeling evaporated as quickly as a drop of water under an August sun in Cannes the moment I discovered you were alive. Truth be told, I've felt half myself without you. No matter how hard I tried, I could not manage to get you out of my head or heart."

Matthew's facial expression changed as Mary's confession progressed, at once exhibiting sadness, then anxiety and finally anger before going blank.

Unable to read him, Mary chewed nervously on her much abused lip as she searched for a sign that the two of them could get beyond what she had just told him. Then after what felt like an eternity, she saw Matthew's shoulders drop from the hunched position they had taken during her declaration and a peaceful countenance emerge on his face. Seeing it, she let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"You have taken away whatever worry plagued me not only by your words but your actions since we have been reunited," Matthew said softly. Then cupping her cheek with his hand, he added, "I have never felt more loved or wanted."

She felt as though she had dodged a bullet and was relieved that she and Matthew had overcome their first hurdle. Then Mary resigned herself to addressing the second.

….

The reunited pair lay together in their bed in the same position they had adopted an hour earlier as they continued to iron out the wrinkles that had formed in the fabric of their lives during their separation.

Ready to voice a concern of her own and be done with it, Mary asked, "Did you ever consider entering into a relationship with Lilian Pomeroy?"

Matthew didn't answer her immediately; and since they now lay in near total darkness, she could not read his face. However, the position of her body enabled her to gauge his reaction by the pace of his heartbeat, which at that moment had accelerated considerably.

"I loved Lilian as I would a sister had I been blessed to have one," Matthew replied calmly in spite of his racing heart. He paused a few moments then before adding, "You asked me earlier if I knew that she had been in love with me. I didn't answer you then because I became flustered by the look in your eyes."

As Matthew's response sunk in, those eyes narrowed considerably and Mary's entire body tensed. She assumed the latter would not escape Matthew's notice and was glad of it.

"You know what I'm referring to, darling, so don't play the innocent," Matthew challenged, confirming her assumption was correct.

Mary nodded her head, conceding he was right on both counts. Fair enough, she thought. Then, after taking a brief moment to hone her sarcasm, she shot back, "Since there is hardly any light left in the room for you to see my eyes, can I assume you will be able to answer my question now or is there some other criteria that must be met before you do so?"

Shaking his head, Matthew let out a sigh of exasperation and bemoaned, "You are incorrigible."

"So I've been told," Mary said with an edge in her voice.

After taking a few calming breaths, Matthew continued, "It was Joseph who planted the idea that Lilian had romantic feelings for me in my head. You see, he visited me in the hospital regularly to keep me abreast of any progress he made in learning my identity. During that time, he got to know Nurse Pomeroy and fell head over heels for her. Smitten as he was, he searched for the best way of extracting her from my side so that she could get to know him better."

Mary's jaw clenched but she managed to remain silent even though the thought of Lilian having to be pried away from her husband made her see red.

"It was not easy for him to do so as Lilian was…Well, she was quite…," he stammered before spitting out, "…dedicated to me."

The last three words that Matthew spoke passed through Mary's ears and lodged in her throat like a hard boiled egg that she swallowed whole and she bolted upright and began hacking violently to dislodge it.

Alarmed and dismayed by his wife's obvious distress, Matthew hit her on the back until her coughing fit subsided and she motioned for him to go on with his explanation.

Walking on the expelled egg shells, Matthew picked up where he left off and continued, "As I said…Lilian was…dedicated…devoted…one might say. Fortunately, Joseph found a way to use this to his advantage. He asked me to recommend him to her, sing his praises a bit when the moment was right…and…and…"

Mary rolled her index finger directly in front of his face so that he could see it, urging him to get on with it.

"…I managed to get Lilian to agree to a picnic with Joseph in Hyde Park. The rest, as they say, is history," Matthew blurted.

Her face etched with confusion, Mary asked, "And this led you to believe your nurse was in love with you?"

Matthew blinked and then slapped his forehead, "Sorry…I left out an important bit," he replied. "Joseph actually told me Lilian was in love with me when I asked him why he believed my commendation would hold any weight; and once I recovered from the shock of his startling revelation, I searched my mind to ascertain if there was any truth to it."

Which you would, of course…Mary thought, knowing Matthew was analytical by nature.

Neither of them spoke then, the sound of an owl hooting somewhere close by the only noise in the room. Mary listened to it attentively while she worked up the courage to ask her husband the question she wasn't sure she wanted to hear an answer to.

As the bird's screeching came to an end, she managed to eek out, "Did you find it?"

Matthew didn't answer her question as quickly as he did the last and she felt certain that didn't bode well. Possessed of a methodical mind herself, it didn't take her long to arrive at the conclusion that her husband's delay in responding was rooted in his desire to spare her feelings and she began nervously twirling the braid that lay upon her neck.

"Yes, Mary," he finally choked out. "After giving the matter a great deal of consideration, I found that Joseph's claim did have merit."

The love of her life's response did not come as a surprise as she vividly recalled the look in Lilian Pomeroy's eyes when she spoke of Matthew a few hour's earlier. Though she felt certain that the nurse's affections now lay with Joseph Cosgrove, her fiancé, hearing that she had been in love with Matthew caused her stomach to do a somersault.

But you know you own his heart, she reminded herself, easing her anxiety.

A pragmatist, Mary reasoned that she and Matthew must put the past behind them in order to live in harmony. Her mind set that they would, she vowed that nothing that had transpired during their separation would become an obstacle to their happiness.

"I don't want to know what she did to lead you to that conclusion, Matthew… I think it is better that way", Mary said, putting Matthew out of his misery.

Making it clear that he was in full agreement, Matthew smiled broadly and patted the spot over his heart, beckoning her to come back to him.

…

Lying with her head resting on Matthew's substantially broadened chest with one arm anchored around him, Mary could feel as well as hear the long breath he expelled.

"Back to clearing the air, then," she muttered under her breath.

"Did you say something, darling? Matthew asked.

"Just talking to myself," Mary replied. "I'm afraid I picked up the habit when you were…"

"Gone," Matthew finished her sentence.

"Yes," she sighed, and then waited for the other shoe to drop.

It did with Matthew uttering, "I agree that it is best to put the past behind us. Yet I think it important that I explain why I had never entertained a romance with Lilian or any other woman while we were apart."

Mary nodded her head in agreement, her curiosity getting the better of her, even though she longed for an end to any further discussion regarding her husband's romantic prospects when he lived in London.

"Thanks to you, I learned I was married soon after I regained consciousness," Matthew announced.

Mary's head rose as quickly as a jack in the box on the last note, her arms pressed into her husband's chest as she catapulted the top half of her body upward and cried out, "Me?"

"Yes, my darling, you," Matthew said, affectionately tapping her nose with his index finger.

Noting her bemused expression, he added, "If you hadn't convinced me to join the current fad of the groom donning a wedding band along with his wife when we married, I would not have known that I had a wife. You see, I found my wedding ring nestled in one of the pockets of the trousers I had worn the day of my accident."

"Well, that was fortuitous, wasn't it?" Mary said with her head now positioned atop her crossed arms.

"Quite," Matthew agreed. "It was the only concrete information that I had regarding my life before I woke in the London Hospital. Dr. Head suspected I had sustained a traumatic injury to my back some years earlier, most likely during the War; but that was just speculation. The ring was tangible evidence."

Mary could just make out the outline of the gold band in the little light that was left in the room, the smoking embers in the hearth nearly turned to ash. She reached out a hand and touched the band of gold, grateful that she had cajoled him into wearing it and smiled.

"You see, Mary, even though I had no clue whatsoever who I was married to, I knew the woman I had chosen to spend my life with was out there somewhere; and it pained me deeply knowing she would believe either I had abandoned her or was dead." he said solemnly.

"A logical conclusion," Mary said, living proof that Matthew's assumption was correct.

"In retrospect, I can see that though you may have left my head, you remained in my heart. That is why I could not look upon Lilian or any other woman as anything more than a dear friend."

The room remained quiet for a moment as one more puzzle piece slipped into place. Then Mary broke the silence with, "I am not sure which of our situations was worse, Matthew. You suffered because you were unable to remember and I because I could not forget."

Matthew pondered her contemplation a few seconds before replying, "Dr. Clarkson told me you had a rough go of it after learning that I…after you were told that I didn't survive the accident. I've wondered how you managed."

Mary placed her head back over Matthew's heart and encircled his torso with her arms. Holding onto him as though she had tumbled into rough seas and he was her life preserver. Then she painted a picture of her life as a widow for him on a black canvas.

"I fought depression every waking moment…," she began. "...and lost my battle quite frequently, I'm ashamed to say."

At that she felt Matthew's hand move to her back and begin to circle it, his touch a salve on wounds she was surprised to learn had not fully healed yet.

"Worse still, I found myself unable to be the wonderful mother you were so certain I would be to George, Mary confessed, her voice cracking on their son's name.

"Darling…," Matthew interjected. "…you don't have to…"

"Yes, I do," Mary said in a tone that made it clear she would brook no argument.

She got none from her husband. He remained quiet, allowing her to continue at her own pace.

In a strangled voice, she continued, "Though it pains me to admit my shortcomings as a parent to our child, I cannot deny them. I do hope, however, that you will believe that although I could not give George what he needed from me as his mother the first few months of his life, I have always loved him dearly.

Matthew swallowed hard before whispering, "I would never doubt that you did."

Hearing his response, Mary felt heartened... Then she delved into an explanation of why she failed the two people in the world she loved most.

"You see…I had nothing to give him, Matthew. My heart was completely shattered and spirit nearly as dead as I thought you were. I looked at George as an orphan, feeling as though both his parents were gone. I actually said as much to the baby one day, much to Anna's chagrin. She came close to scolding me for saying it, and rightly so.

"You are being too hard on yourself," Matthew insisted. "Losing me the way you did on the day George was born had to have knocked the stuffing out of you."

Mary forced herself to take a hard look at Matthew's admonition of her self-flagellation as well as his refusal to censure her behavior. After a long moment, she conceded that what he had told her was true. Not only had the stuffing been knocked out of her when she lost him; but then swept away by the wind, leaving her hollow.

I braved the storm as best I could and that is all any of us can do she told herself. Now wholly believing it to be true, she felt a heavy burden lifted from her and swallowed up by the darkness.

Giving Matthew a gentle squeeze, she said, "Thank you for that. When I see myself through your eyes, I find I am a much better person."

"My hope is that you always see yourself that way, my darling," Matthew replied. "I've told you this before but it bears repeating now, "My Mary is the true Mary. Don't ever forget that."

Mary nodded her head and blinked to ward off the tears welling in her eyes.

Noting her affirming gesture, Matthew patted her back and said, "It has been a long day, Mary…a glorious but long day. I suggest we both get some sleep and resume this conversation tomorrow."

The future Countess of Grantham tried but did not succeed in stifling a yawn before she murmured, "Your suggestion is duly noted and I'm in full agreement with it." Then she asked, "Would you mind terribly if I remained in this position?"

Matthew opened his mouth wide, his wife's yawn contagious. "I was hoping you would," he managed before he felt another coming on.

"Good night, Matthew," Mary offered as she curled herself around him.

"Good… night… darling," rolled piecemeal off his lips as he held her close.

Then for the first time since their son came into the world, Matthew and Mary Crawley slept through the night in each others' arms.

…

The warm body stirring beneath her prompted Mary to jolt in alarm before the dawning realization that it belonged to her husband eased her mind. She let out a sigh of relief mixed with utter contentment as she rested her head back on Matthew's shoulder.

Though her head was still not entirely clear of the fog of sleep, she was cognizant of the fact that this morning she would not have to look to the wedding photograph on her nightstand in order to find her husband as he was lying in her arms and she rejoiced in that reality.

Mary's next thought came in response to her growling stomach as she discovered she was famished. Knowing that she did not usually wake up with such a strong desire for food, Mary concluded this anomaly a result of her expending so much energy during the night in reacquainting herself with Matthew; her recollection of how it was expended bringing color to her cheeks.

Though she had remained as still as she possibly could not to wake him, she felt Matthew rousing and raised her head to greet him. Her eyes blinked to ward off a stray beam of sunlight that had crept through a crack in the drapes and she changed her position to avoid it its glare.

"I'm starving," she declared, doing her best to ward off a mounting yawn.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" Matthew teased, raising his arms and stretching them over his head.

"I'm sorry, darling, Mary replied in the same tone. "'Good Morning, Matthew. I'm starving."

Her response elicited such raucous laughter from her husband that the rapid rise and fall of his chest jostled Mary out of her position. No longer molded to him, she rose from the mattress into a sitting position and glared down at him, even though she found his fit of hilarity highly amusing.

"I'm quite hungry myself, darling," the future Earl announced once his laughter had subsided. Then still grinning, he asked, "Now, what shall we to do about it?"

Mary smiled broadly at her husband before reaching over him and pulling the cord to summon Anna. Then she felt Matthew's arms guiding her back on top of him and she swatted him in mock horror as she reminded him that Anna responded quickly when summoned.

…

"Good Morning, Mi'Lady…Mr. Crawley," the ladies maid chirped happily as she pushed the heavy drapes to the side. "I trust that you both had a good night?"

At that Mary saw Anna's grin and noted it was growing wider by the second. Surmising the reason for her high spirits, Mary felt her cheeks begin to burn.

"Y...e…s…," Anna. I cannot recall a better one," she replied cheekily, adding fuel to the fire.

"I am happy to hear it," Anna countered, clearly stifling a giggle before getting on with the business at hand setting the tea service down on a nearby table.

Though the maid did her best to be discreet, she could not help but notice the clothing that was strewn about the room and absentmindedly began to pick up random bits off the floor.

Mary cleared her throat to get her attention and said, "Don't bother with that now, Anna. You can take care of it later. I'll call you when Mr. Crawley leaves. We can serve ourselves." Then, she added, "And please relay our thanks to Mrs. Hughes for getting the rooms ready for our guests on such short notice, especially as we interrupted the New Year's festivities."

"Very good, Mi'Lady, " Anna said, laying the silk stockings she was holding at the foot of the bed before turning for the door. Then she halted with her hand on the doorknob and looked back at the reunited pair.

"Mr. Bates and I…Well, I think I can speak for all of us downstairs in saying we are overjoyed by this turn of events. I know I've said it already but I feel compelled to repeat myself."

"Thank you, Anna." Mathew replied, the bed coverings pulled up to his chin as they were the first time he had addressed the maid from his wife's bed. "And please thank your husband and the rest of the staff for us both."

"I will," Mr. Crawley," Anna said with a bright smile before leaving the room.

Looking to the cart that lay on the table near the window, Mary asked with a twinkle in her eye, "Now which one of us serves the tea?"

…

The smell of bacon wafting through the air caused Mary's stomach to rumble again but thankfully the warm welcome she and Matthew received by those seated around the dining table drowned out the sound as they entered the room.

Nodding at Carson, who stood in the corner making sure all was running smoothly, she headed quickly to the side board and began to fill her plate. Taking a generous helping of eggs, Mary glimpsed her Mother and Dr. Head in deep conversation in her peripheral vision and stopped long enough to hear the gist of it.

As far as she could tell, the physician was explaining the difference between amnesia due to physical injury as opposed to mental trauma. Turning her head quickly in his direction, she found that both her Mother and Edith were hanging on his every word. Noting her sister's avid interest, Mary wondered if Edith would incorporate Dr. Head's findings into the piece she would write about Matthew's return, knowing that inevitable.

She had no doubt that "Heir Thought Dead Found to be Alive" would be the headline on a slew of newspapers the following morning from Leeds to London and wondered how Richard Carlisle would cover the story.

Once her plate was filled, Mary took the empty seat next to her brother-in-law Tom at the table, smiling amiably in his direction as she placed her linen napkin in her lap.

"Are you planning on eating all of that yourself, Mary?" Tom asked with a hint of mischief in his tone. "…or is Isis under the table and you're feeling generous this morning?"

Eyeing the healthy serving of food before her, Mary replied, "I intend on eating every morsel." Then lifting her fork, she grinned widely before adding, "It appears happiness leads to a hearty appetite."

Smiling back at her, Tom replied with an exaggerated Irish brogue, "And I'm that pleased to hear you have both."

Seated on Tom's other side, Dr. Head interjected, "Actually, there is scientific evidence that happiness does affect one's eating habits." Then patting his protruding midsection with one hand, he pointed the fork in his other in his wife's direction and said, "As you can plainly see, both Mrs. Head and I have a high regard for food and we are quite happy. Matthew can attest to that."

Mary raised her head from her plate to find Mrs. Head glaring at her husband from the opposite end of the table, clearly unappreciative of his remarking upon her healthy appetite and what it implied in order to bolster his hypothesis.

Seeing his wife shooting daggers at him from across the table, Dr. Head realized his faux pas, cleared is throat and clarified, "Though unlike myself, my lovely wife has somehow managed to keep her trim figure," he declared.

Mary heard Carson clearing his throat from his position and found him stifling a smile when she turned his way. Looking back to those seated at the dining table, she found they, too, were doing their best to hide their amusement, some covering their mouths with their napkins.

She returned her gaze then to Ruth Head and found that her stance had softened considerably. Well played, Doctor, she thought as Matthew slid into the chair across from hers with a look on his face that told her he was thinking the same thing.

Conversation at the table was as lively as it had been the night before but Mary was too busy cleaning her plate to chime in much. Sitting in close proximity to Nurse Pomeroy and her fiancé', she did, however, overhear them debating whether or not they should move their wedding to the country. Aware that some of their neighbors had taken to renting out space for such occasions in order to help with the expenses of running their estate, Mary knew that was an option for Lilian and Joseph. That thought led her to ponder if Matthew might suggest the couple wed at Downton.

However, her musings concerning the young couple's nuptials didn't last long as Tom interrupted them by tugging on her sleeve. She managed a few words with her brother-in-law with regard to grain prices rising before he caught Matthew's eye and launched into a conversation pertaining to renovations that were being made to one of the nearby cottages.

Still savoring her food, Mary heard her brother-in-law then making plans with the Heads and Lilian to tour the estate after breakfast. Apparently, Joseph Cosgrove could not join them as he was headed off to Graspeys Funeral Home in an official capacity, although the detective would catch up with the group at the Dog and Duck Tavern in the Village for luncheon.

She had no doubt that it would be a messy business unraveling why the Crawleys had been presented with an urn of ashes that were purported to be Matthew Crawley's by the establishment. Yet her husband had assured her that his friend from Scotland Yard would uncover the truth and severe consequences levied against those responsible.

"Mary…Matthew…would you two care to join us?" Tom asked as he got up from his chair and slid it back. As he did so, a loud yelp emanated from under the table, leading Carson to leave his post and drag Isis out from under it. The Head Butler then instructed James Kent, one of the footmen, to bring the dog down to the kitchen, which proved to be a difficult task considering the Labrador's reluctance to do so and hefty weight.

Realizing that the thankfully uninjured dog had apparently been there all along, Mary and Tom burst into laughter considering his earlier jest. Then regaining his composure, he resumed speaking about the estate.

"I think you will be surprised at all the changes that we've accomplished in your absence, Matthew," Tom said, smiling at Mary.

"I'm sure I will be." Matthew replied, beaming at his wife and brother-in-law. "And I look forward to seeing, them all. However, I was hoping Mary would accompany me into Ripon this morning. I need to have a very special item engraved," he replied before winking at Mrs. Head.

At that, Mary saw the physician's wife flash Matthew a conspiratorial smile, leading her to believe the item in question was the journal she had gifted him one Christmas when he lived with her and Dr. Head in Eaton Square.

"I would like that very much, Matthew," she said after patting her mouth to be sure it was clean. Then looking into his eyes, she added, "Very much, indeed."

…

Mary knew that Matthew was able to drive an automobile. He had told her he had done so at Dr. Head's request while the subject of his research into traumatic amnesia. Yet when she advised him that the chauffeur had brought the car around, he simply nodded his head in agreement.

Noting her husband had not offered to drive into Ripon himself and his positive reaction to Mr. Stark being employed to do so, she wondered if Matthew was reluctant to take the wheel because he feared for George's safety. After all, this would be the first time he would navigate Downton's roads since his accident.

George's nanny handing him over to his father in the back seat of the Crawley's sturdy four door sedan effectively put an end to her speculation, as she reveled in the joy on Matthew's face as he situated their son on his lap.

The trip did not take long; but it gave her and Matthew enough time to talk about some of the changes Tom had referred to that had taken place at Downton, most notably the addition of pig farming.

"Bringing in the Hamsworth hogs was a risky proposition, but it has paid off in spades, Matthew," she announced with pride.

As they drove on, she continued enumerating her and Tom's accomplishments, her voice filled with excitement.

"Nearly all the cottages have been refurbished and we've taken over many of the farms that you advised us to before you…," she paused. Then continued, "…and we've either hired the previous owners to till the land or brought in outside help just as you had suggested, darling."

Matthew smiled broadly at her and said, "I'm so very proud of you, Mary."

"Well, I cannot take all the credit, myself," she said modestly. "Tom has proven to be an excellent estate manager."

"I had no doubt he would be," Matthew said, taking her hand. "And I am grateful to you both for keeping my vision for Downton alive and well."

Basking in her husband's praise, Mary grinned, feeling quite pleased with herself. Her attention and Matthew's was then drawn to George, who was bouncing up and down on his Papa's lap as he pointed to the 300 year old Obelisk they were passing. She completely understood her son's excitement as she took in the tall structure soaring into the sky encircled with an array of colorful flags blowing fiercely in the wind.

"Pwetty…Pwetty…," George called out, mesmerized by display on the other side of the glass window.

"Yes, little chap, they are very pretty," Matthew agreed, smiling from ear to ear.

The obelisk brought to mind some of the other points of interest that Ripon had to offer; and she suggested, "Darling, we must invite the Heads...and Lilian and Joseph, of course... to come to Downton on St. Winifred's Day. I have no doubt they will love the festival, and the entire family can make a day of it."

Turning from the window, Matthew said, "Thank you."

"Whatever for?" Mary asked.

Matthew smiled, "For including those people that I've grown to love in our future plans because you know it would make me happy."

Mary bowed her head and smiled, "I've told you more than once that you bring out the best in me, Matthew. I find I am a quite a different woman with you in my life, certainly a much kinder one. Edith will attest to that."

After feigning concentration for a long moment, Matthew shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, darling, I'm afraid I cannot make a case to refute your assertion."

Landing a playful swat on his thigh, she replied, "You don't have to…As for your friends from London, I do want to get to know them better, and I'm glad that makes you happy."

Passing Ripon Cathedral, Matthew asked Mr. Stark to park as close to Larkfield Engravers as possible; and noting his wife's quizzical expression, he explained, "I fear if I run into any of my colleagues from Harville and Carter, they might have an apoplexy. Remember, Mary, no-one here knows that I am alive.

"Yes, I can see what you mean. They would assume they were seeing your ghost haunting the streets of Ripon if they came upon you. That would not do," she replied with mock horror.

"No, it would not," Matthew said with a smile as the car came to a full stop and Mr. Stark came around to open his door.

...

The sound of a bell ringing overhead pierced Mary's ears as she crossed the threshold into Larkfields with Matthew in tow. The jingling stopped as the door closed behind them and she headed for the counter across from the entrance. Upon reaching it, she turned and took George from Matthew's arms and stood beside him as they waited for assistance.

The quaint shop with dark paneled walls and a large bronze ceiling fan spinning slowly in the center of the room was nearly empty; the only other customers two women standing at a counter across the room, presumably waiting for their completed order.

A tall, balding man wearing metal spectacles stepped out from behind a heavy brown curtain that separated the room from another. Mary got a glimpse of it before the curtain fell back into place and noted it housed two large tables with an array of tools and some small machinery. Her eyes returned to the clerk then, who greeted the two of them warmly and asked how he could be of service.

Seeing Matthew hand the man the leather bound journal and begin to deliver his instructions, Mary decided to give her aching arms a rest and put George down on the floor. No sooner had the toddler's feet touched the polished wood, than he took off like her horse, Diamond, when she had dug in her heels.

Fortunately there weren't many people in the shop for the little tyke to run into; but George did manage to trip over a scatter rug, taking a nasty spill before Mary could catch him. The toddler let out a wail as his knees hit the ground, resulting in Matthew, the clerk attending him, the two women at the adjacent counter and an employee who had been working in the back room, but now had his head protruding through the dividing curtain, to stretch their necks in George's direction.

"He is fine, Matthew," Mary called from her position behind a tall potted plant.

Then she picked her son up and sat him down on a wooden counter a few yards away in an effort to calm him down.

Digging out a handkerchief from her purse, she gently blotted George's tears and said, "You must be careful, darling. Mama would be very, very sad if you hurt yourself."

Seeming to comprehend what Mary was saying to him and clearly appreciating the attention he was getting, George blew her a kiss.

"Oh, how lovely." a rotund, middle aged woman with red hair called out from a few feet away, having witnessed the touching scene.

"He is absolutely precious," declared her companion, who Mary assumed was her daughter since she shared the elder woman's wide nose and the tendrils of hair that escaped her plumed hat an identical hue.

Moved by George's display of affection and filled with pride, her eyes were drawn to Matthew, who she found beaming at them from across the room. She returned his smile and they remained with their eyes locked until the clerk returned with the finished product in hand, clearing his throat to get her husband's attention.

His mission complete, Matthew tucked the newly engraved journal into his coat pocket and made his way to Mary and George, tipping his hat as he passed the two women who had praised George seconds earlier and offering, "Good Day, Ladies."

Mary saw the younger of the two eyeing her husband as though he were a prized pig, while the other became flushed with excitement as Matthew drew closer. Lifting George from his perch, she handed him over to his father before turning her attention on their admirers.

"They are both darlings. I am a very lucky woman," she declared, effectively taking the wind out of their sails.

Then the happy little family made their way out the door, the sound of a child's laughter mingled with that of a bell jingling in their wake.

…

As the car pulled onto the gravel path leading to the house, Mary maneuvered her head to get a look at George's face pressed against her shoulder.

"He is fast asleep, Matthew," Mary whispered.

"Do you want me to take him in?" Matthew asked in the same low tone. "I know how heavy he is."

"No…No," Mary, replied quickly. "I'm used to carrying him…and Nanny will no doubt meet me half way. I'm sure Carson will let her know we are back. "Nothing slips by him," she added in a playful tone.

Matthew chortled before getting out of the car and taking hold of Mary's hand in order to assist her in exiting with the toddler in her arms.

"Welcome back, Mi'Lady… Sir…,"Carson said, greeting them at the door. "Master George's Nanny should be here…Ah, here she is."

Mary looked at Matthew with both eyebrows raised and an 'I told you so' look firmly planted on her face causing him to chuckle again.

As she passed the tot to his caretaker, she told her she would accompany her as she wanted to tuck George in before she freshened up.

Mary turned back to her husband and offered, "If I don't see you before then, I'll join you in the drawing room when tea is served."

"That sounds like a plan," Matthew replied and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'm heading off to the library in search of a book Dr. Head expressed some interest in at breakfast."

…

Mary did see her husband before tea was served as he arrived at their bedroom with some news that he could not wait to share. As Anna applied the finishing touches to her hair, Matthew stood beside the maid bouncing in place with excitement as he relayed that Joseph Cosgrove was in the Courtyard at that moment presenting details of his findings at Graspeys to two local constabularies.

"What do you think will happen next?" Mary asked, her eyes focusing on his reflection in the vanity mirror.

Following suit, Matthew responded, "I would think criminal charges will be brought against the owner of the funeral home as well as any one who was complicit in presenting the remains of someone that were clearly not mine to the Crawley family."

"Well, they should be," Mary spat as Anna placed another pin in her hair to keep it in place. "No matter what extenuating circumstances they plead in an attempt to ward off prosecution, they led us to believe the urn they gave us contained your ashes. God only knows who is buried in your…I mean…that grave."

Matthew flinched at the mention of his final resting place; and though he recovered himself quickly, it did not go unnoticed.

Mary turned in her seat, reaching behind her to take hold of Matthew's hand and said, "I'm sorry, darling. It must be awful to know there is a headstone with your name on it. Tom will rectify that quickly."

Matthew nodded, "I know he will, Mary. Please don't give it another thought."

Easier said than done, Mary told herself before she turned back to the mirror to check her hair. Finding it satisfactory, she thanked Anna and dismissed her. Then she rose and kissed Matthew's cheek before heading for the door with him closely behind.

…

Entering the drawing room, Mary and Matthew fell upon Violet and Isobel first. The two elder Crawley women had arrived about an hour earlier and were chatting amiably with Henry and Ruth Head, the physician cheerfully recounting the morning's activities.

"One thousand acres," Violet said with pride in response to Dr. Head's question regarding the size of the estate...and the house fills roughly 120,000 square feet."

"It is magnificent," the physician proclaimed as he took in his surroundings. Then added, "The sheer size alone is astounding…and then this," he opened his arms wide to encompass the grandeur all around him.

"Yes, quite," Isobel agreed, taking note of her son approaching her. "It took Matthew and me a considerable amount of time to acclimate to our new life here when he became the heir presumptive. Didn't it, dear?" she asked as he rose from kissing her cheek.

Matthew nodded, "Yes, I dare say, it did."

"But you do feel at home now, don't you, Mrs. Crawley?" Mrs. Head asked.

"Oh, yes," Isobel replied, looking from the Heads to the Dowager Countess and adding, "I am among family here. That is truly where home is, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," the doctor replied, taking hold of his wife's hand. "I think I can speak for Ruth in saying we couldn't agree with you more."

"Nor can I," Mary and Matthew said at exactly the same time and then broke into matching grins.

Seeing her father and mother entering the room, Mary excused herself, smiling at her guests and giving her husband's arm a tiny squeeze before she headed for her parents. However, by the time she reached them, Cora had left her father's side in order to speak with Edith, and Tom had taken her place.

Reaching the two men, she found they were discussing Joseph Cosgrove's findings, which suited her fine as that was the reason she had sought out her father in the first place.

"Graspey insists this all was an honest mistake," Tom told his father-in-law in a hushed tone. "He says there was so much confusion when the bodies were brought in from the colission in Sowerby, that his staff was overwhelmed."

Though not part of the initial conversation, Mary cut off whatever response her father had in the offing by interjecting, "That is utter nonsense. Someone had to know Matthew's body went missing. No matter if it had been misplaced or removed for some nefarious purpose, the proprietor should have told us the truth. Instead, he took advantage of our grief by offering us a pitiful apology and God knows whose ashes."

"Mary, please calm down," her father pleaded. "Knowing this debacle took place is upsetting enough. I don't want your Mother, mine or especially Matthew's to hear us." He paused then, his eyes scanning the room before taking hold of her hand and said, "The investigation is in the hands of the proper authorities and Matthew is confident that Detective Cosgrove will see that justice is done."

"Your father is right." Tom piped in. "I've spoken to Joseph and he has assured me that he will not rest until every person involved in the deception is charged with fraud."

Heeding her Papa and brother-in-law, Mary decided to let the matter drop, hissing under her breath, "All right…I'll let it rest….for Isobel's sake. I don't want to upset her with this…but mark my words, heads will roll. My husband has suffered…I have suffered greatly because of what they did. You both know that our family would have left no stone unturned had we learned Matthew's body had gone missing. We may have found him alive a long time ago, sparing us all the pain we have endured."

The Earl and Tom nodded their head in agreement, both doing their best to stifle their own anger over the deceit that led them to believe Matthew was dead.

Mary then caught sight of Edith staring at the three of them from across from as the room. She quickly composed herself and smiled in her direction; but she could tell by her sister's wary expression that she knew something was amiss.

"Edith will likely have questions," Tom said following her gaze.

"I have no doubt she will," Mary replied. Then added, "Just as I'm certain she won't allow anything to be printed in "The Sketch" that would be hurtful to Matthew. She loves him as though he is the brother she never had."

"Quite right," her father agreed. "Edith has always been very fond of Matthew. No matter how many publications she might sell if she were to plaster the headlines with the gory details that no doubt Richard Carlisle will regarding Matthew's resurrection, his well-being will be your sister's priority. Now, let's drop this altogether…I see Cora headed our way."

Mary clamped down on her anger and flashed her mother the brightest smile she could muster, saying, "Hello, Mama…What have you been up to?"

Looking over her shoulder at Downton's guests, she replied, "I've been enjoying the time I've been spending with Matthew's friends from London." Then, returning her gaze to Mary, she added, "I must say I find Dr. Head to be a fascinating man. He is extremely intelligent, witty and a great conversationalist."

"Should I be jealous?" the Earl of Grantham teased.

Ignoring her husband's playing banter, Cora declared, "And his wife, Ruth, is absolutely charming."

"I have found those same qualities in Joseph Cosgrove," Tom exclaimed. "And I must say it has been a pleasure for me to find someone who is not only knowledgeable concerning current affairs but open to an opposing opinion," he added with a pointed look at his father-in-law and sly smile.

Robert Crawley rolled his eyes at his son-in-law before he cautioned, "But you mustn't wear the man out, Tom. You have a tendency to go on and on when a topic is dear to your heart. The detective and Dr. Head have a long drive ahead of them in inclement weather, which is daunting even if they share the wheel."

"I wish they could stay longer," Cora mused out loud as her eyes fell on the woman who nursed her son-in-law back to health. "In the short period of time I've spent with Miss Pomeroy, I have found her to be quite sweet."

"Yes, she is that," Mary sighed as she caught sight of Lilian and Matthew chatting in front of the tall window nearest the piano, her eyes wide with interest as her husband spoke.

Mary wondered for a brief moment if Matthew had taken notice of them but quickly put an end to that line of thought, having decided it served no good purpose. She then replaced it with Lilian is a dear friend who is going to be part of my husband's life for a long time and I can and will accept that without rancor.

Turning to her Mama, she said with resignation, "But do not fret, I'm sure you will have an opportunity to get to know her better. In fact, I feel certain we will be seeing a lot of Matthew's friends from London in the future."

Though she didn't keep her focus on Lilian and Matthew for long, it was long enough for him to catch her eye and gesture for her to join them. Putting her new philosophy to the test, Mary placed her tea cup and saucer down on one of the end tables and made her way across the room.

"Darling, I was just telling Lilian about the St. Winifred Stakes with the hope she and Joseph will be able to attend the race with us in August," Matthew said cheerfully.

"By all means," Mary replied. I think that is a marvelous idea." Then turning to Lilian she boasted, "Last year I won a tidy sum of money betting on a long shot named Glorious George."

"Well done, darling" Matthew said. "Now let's hope the horse will be running again this year. With that name, how can he lose?"

Hearing the happy commotion near the window, Mary's cousin Rose left the pale pink damask sofa she had been sharing with Edith and joined the small group.

"Are you talking about the race track in Ripon?" she asked. "I am looking forward to trying my luck there."

"Please feel free to join us when we go next," Mary offered. "It is great fun."

"I will," the Crawley cousin exclaimed enthusiastically. "But you must guide me in my choices, Mary. I know nothing about horses."

"That doesn't matter, Rose," Mary replied. "Though I prefer to do a bit of research with regard to the pedigree of the horse and race history before I place my bet, a long shot is often as good a favorite. I've found there is no exact formula in choosing a winner."

"My wife is an accomplished rider, herself, Lilian," Matthew said with pride. "I dare say her prowess has surpassed that of many of the men who have participated in Downton's fox hunt over the years."

Lady Rose frowned before uttering, "Mary is impressive on a horse but I have no stomach for hunting. The fox is such a lovely creature. I could never…"

"Really?" Mary cut her cousin off mid-stream. "Darling, how can you say that when you own a fox stole?"

As if she were a small child with her hand caught in the cookie jar, Rose turned scarlet, "Touché, Mary. I sound like a hypocrite and you are right in calling me out."

"Don't feel badly, Rose," Matthew said. "Mary knows it was not your intention to criticize her for joining the hunt. Most women who own furs don't give a great thought as to their origination."

The pretty blonde smiled, "I see you are still the defender of the down-trodden, Cousin Matthew. I know that I have told you this multiple times today, but I must say again that it is so very wonderful to have you back with us."

The unconventional young woman then planted a quick peck on her champion's cheek before dashing off to get another cup of tea.

Matthew brought his hand to the ruby red mark left behind on his face and smiled. "I see Rose hasn't lost any of her exuberance. I look forward to hearing what she has been up to in my absence."

Mary smiled as she watched her cousin flounce across the room. "As much as I look forward to sharing our dear cousin's exploits with you, Matthew, I'm sorry to say I will need substantially more time than we have now to do so."

"Speaking of time," Lilian said looking out the window and taking note of the darkening sky, "If we don't head back to London soon, I fear none of us will get any sleep before reporting for duty tomorrow."

Matthew nodded as he fixed his sights on Joseph Cosgrove and Tom chatting congenially before the raging fire in the hearth.

It is getting rather late," he said. "If you both will excuse me, I'll see what I can do to pry those two apart."

Lilian thanked her erstwhile patient, grateful for his intervention. Then she and Mary looked on as Matthew was greeted by Tom, who quickly attempted to engage him in whatever topic was being bandied about. Staying true to his mission, Matthew didn't take the bait, instead steering the conversation to the late hour as he pointed to the clock on the mantelpiece.

"Joseph and Mr. Branson…I mean, Tom…" Lilian amended noting Mary's reproving look, "…have become fast friends."

"They certainly have," Mary agreed, catching site of her brother-in-law slapping the detective on the back. Smiling, she added, "It is not often that Tom finds himself in the company of someone who shares his passion for politics…and automobiles. He has been in his glory these past two days."

"Well, they do share some common ground. No doubt that is the reason they get along so well." Lilian agreed.

Mary then asked, "Has Joseph always had such an avid interest in politics?"

Lilian nodded, "Joseph was raised in a household where political discussion was common fare. His mother was born and raised in Ireland. Though she settled in England upon marrying Joseph's father and they raised their children here, it has been a lifelong dream of hers to see her birthplace free of its rule. She is quite vocal about it."

"And his father is or was of the same opinion?" Mary asked.

"Good Lord, No," Lilian exclaimed. "He is a loyalist who came to work at Scotland Yard shortly after his 19th birthday and worked his way up through the ranks. His allegiance has always been to the English Crown.

"Well, that must have made for lively conversation at the dining table," Mary said, imagining it rivaled her own family's.

Lilian rolled her eyes and replied, "Quite. Over the years, Joseph's father has been involved in many cases where crimes have been committed to secure Ireland's independence. Seeing the repercussions of the violence firsthand, he had no tolerance whatsoever for the revolutionaries. Rest assured, my fiancé has been a witness to many spirited debates between his parents over the years."

"I would imagine he has," Mary replied. "And the same has held true for Tom and my father. Though my late sister Sybil was sympathetic to her husband's cause, Lord Grantham never could abide it. I suspect if it weren't for her marriage to Tom, he would have been banished from Downton many years ago."

"Matthew told me last evening that your sister died in childbirth. You have my deepest sympathy…as does your family," Lilian said solemnly.

"Thank you. We still miss her terribly. She was an extraordinary young woman," Mary said as she gazed at the collection of family photos that rested on the nearby table. Then she walked over to it and plucking one of Sybil taken on her 21sth birthday, handed it Lilian.

"She was lovely," Lilian exclaimed as her eyes focused on the blue-eyed beauty smiling in the photograph.

"Inside and out," Mary proclaimed, her eyes become misty as she took in the image of her late sister. "Sybil was the sweetest, most self-sacrificing person I have ever known."

"Tom has sung her praises to Joseph," Lilian said returning the memento to her hostess. "And he introduced us to your niece, Sybbie, before we left the house this morning. I see a great deal of your sister in her."

"Yes, I do, as well," Mary concurred, placing the likeness of Sybil back in place. She is a little darling and we all adore her. Thankfully, Tom has agreed to raise Sybbie here at Downton, at least until she is older. That is a great comfort to us."

"I'm sure it is to Tom, as well" Lilian said. "Sadly, Joseph and his late wife weren't blessed with any children."

"Late wife?" Mary asked, clearly surprised by the revelation.

Lilian nodded, "Yes, he and Tom have that in common, as well. Unfortunately they are both widowers. His late wife shared his mother's desire for a free Ireland as she was born and raised in a small town about 10 miles south of Dublin called Bray in the County of Wicklow."

Bray?" Mary exclaimed, recognizing the name. "That is Tom's birthplace."

Her eyes wide with surprise, Lilian pleaded, "Please keep that bit of information under wraps for now, Mary. If either Joseph or your brother-in-law were to get wind of it, even Matthew won't be able to get the two of them to stop talking."

Mary motioned her hand across her lips as if zipping her mouth closed and then broke out into laughter, which was quickly shared by Lilian. The two were still reveling in their merriment when Detective Cosgrove, finally detached from Tom by Matthew, came upon them.

"I hate to break up the party," Joseph said apologetically as his fiancé and their hostess managed to compose themselves. "But we really should be getting on the road, Lilian. It is getting late."

At that, the two women broke out into renewed giggles, leading Joseph Cosgrove to shake his head in bewilderment.

"Carson," Mary called out once she regained her composure. "Please have Mr. Stark bring Dr. Head's car around to the front of the house. Our guests are leaving."

"Very good, Mi"Lady," the butler replied and bowed quickly before he set off to the Servants Hall to summon the driver.

…

The Crawley family, along with a handful of their servants, gathered outside despite the drop in temperature to give the London group a proper send-off with Mary and Matthew at the end of the receiving line. Standing close together to ward off the cold, they smiled broadly when Joseph Cosgrove reached them with his hat in hand and a warm smile on his face.

"Well, it is with mixed feelings that I say 'this is where we part ways', Old Chap," the detective said.

Grasping hold of his dear friend's hand, Matthew replied, "But happily not for long, Joseph. Tom told me you will be back soon to continue your investigation at Graspeys. Until that matter is settled, I suspect we'll be seeing a lot of you here at Downton."

"You likely will," the detective replied. "That is until I get to the bottom of what those bas….," he began before seeing Matthew's eyes begin to widen. Clearing his throat, he rectified "what those charlatans were up to. It pains me to say that taking into account the fraud that was committed by Graspeys with regard to you, I wonder if the bodies of all those poor souls who lost their lives in the Sowerby collision were returned to the earth in tact,"

"What are you saying, Joseph?" Matthew asked, clearly aghast by what he just heard.

His expression grim, he replied, "Scotland Yard has unfortunately come upon instances where organs have been sold for profit by employees of more than one funeral home."

"Good God, how awful," Matthew exclaimed and looked to Mary, finding her eyes wide.

"Yes, a bloody nightmare," Joseph agreed. Then softening his tone, he proclaimed, "It is important to me that you both of you know I will leave no stone unturned in my investigation."

"We know that you won't," the future Earl replied.

"And rest assured that we will not become strangers after this sordid affair is over, Matthew. I will need a best man soon and who better than you since you brought Lilian and me together?"

"I would be honored," Matthew replied before releasing him to Mary.

Stepping forward, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I eagerly look forward to your and Lilian's nuptials and wish you both nothing but happiness."

"Thank you, Mary." "You know I wish the same for you and Matthew. I leave here with peace of mind knowing my friend is in the best of hands."

Then Joseph Cosgrove placed his hat on his head and made his way to the black sedan that awaited him.

Seeing Lilian approaching, Mary patted Matthew's arm and left him to her, setting off toward Mrs. Head, who she found smiling in her direction. As she intercepted her husband's nurse mid-way, it pained her to see that her face was etched with sadness. A quick look over her shoulder revealed her husband's a mirror image.

They are thinking about how much they are going to miss one another, she thought. That didn't surprise Mary. What did was that the thought did not generate even a small pang of jealousy. She felt nothing but sympathy for them both and was quite pleased that was the case.

By the time she stood face to face with Lilian, the nurse had managed to erase all visible signs of distress from her face, a feat Mary assumed was par for the course for those who tended to the sick and wounded. However, Matthew's erstwhile caregiver had brought down her mask too late.

Taking a firm grip on Lilian's outstretched hand, Mary said, "Both Matthew and I are very glad that you came to Downton and our hope is that we will meet again soon. I think you may have heard that my father's sister Rosamund lives in Belgravia…quite close to the Head's residence."

Lilian nodded, "Yes, Lord Grantham told me."

"And we have a townhouse in London, as well, that we open during the Season. We will be hosting a ball there in a few months as my cousin Rose will be coming out this year. It is our hope that you, Joseph and the Heads, of course, will attend."

Nurse Pomeroy's lips curled upward into what Mary could see was a genuine smile this time and replied, "That sounds absolutely wonderful. I look forward to it and I'm sure the others will, too."

Lilian's mood brightened even further when Mary told her Matthew's plan to continue assisting Dr. Head with his patients in the Head Trauma Ward, albeit on a limited basis, and she thanked her for relaying the wonderful news.

Then hearing Dr. Head's car engine turn over, Mary planted a quick kiss on Nurse Pomeroy's cheek and said, "Goodbye, then. I wish you a safe journey home…and smooth sailing with your wedding plans."

Closing the gap between her and Mrs. Head, the first bit of Matthew and Lilian's farewell followed her. "I cannot find the words to thank you enough for all you have done for me" took flight on a brisk wind from Matthew's lips to Mary's ears. Hearing Lilian begin to respond, Mary quickened her pace.

In the next few moments, there was a great deal of hand shaking, cheek pecking, sometimes awkward embracing and promises made regarding future contact before Dr. Head's car finally pulled away from the house. Then the residents of Downton Abbey scurried back inside.

...

Reaching the Great Hall, Mary heard Matthew sigh beside her and turned his way. Taking in the mournful expression on his face, she suggested he join Tom in reading "Dr. Doolittle" to George and Sybbie in the nursery.

"I would like that very much, darling," he said without hesitation. "Would you care to join us?"

"I promise I will next time", she replied, a vision of Matthew's journal popping into her head. "Right now, however, I have some reading of my own to do."

Understanding her meaning, Matthew's grin widened even further and he pulled her into a quick kiss before heading for the stairway.

They went their separate ways upon reaching the Gallery, and as Mary headed for their bedroom, she heard Sybbie and George squealing with delight through the closed door of the nursery. The sound of the children's laughter brought a smile to her lips that lasted long after she had closed her own behind her.

The fire had already been lit in the hearth and she relished the heat emanating from it, still feeling a chill from the time she had spent outdoors. Surveying the comfortable room, she found Matthew's journal lay exactly where she had left it on her nightstand. Then she promptly kicked off her shoes and padded across the room to retrieve it.

The leather bound book in one hand, Mary switched on the floor lamp beside the tufted chair near her vanity with the other and lowered herself into it. A happy sigh escaped her lips as she sank into the thick seat cushion and maneuvered her body into a comfortable position, her right foot neatly tucked underneath her left thigh. Then she picked up the diary that would provide her with a glimpse of her husband's life without his memory or her.

As she read the first line, she was surprised by it as Matthew had uttered the same words to her years earlier. Recalling the day, she remembered how handsome he had looked in his army uniform with the sun beaming down on his golden hair. In fact, if one hadn't looked beyond his face, they would not have known anything was amiss. It most certainly was, though, as the man she loved was bound to a wheelchair, his legs falling haphazardly to one side as a result of his nearly being blown to pieces during the Battle of Amiens.

She had told him that day that she didn't have to marry Richard Carlisle and her remark had set him off. Thinking he would be and invalid for the rest of his life, Matthew insisted that she go ahead with her plan to marry the newspaper magnate.

"I have nothing to give and nothing to share. If you were not engaged to be married, I would not let you anywhere near me," he had told her.

Recalling his despair, Mary thought that his future was as dismal that day as it was when he woke in Whitechapel with no memory.

But then his first miracle was granted, she told herself before returning her attention to the journal in her hands, the result of his second. Noting each page that was filled with his sprawling handwriting, she regretted not having one of her own to share with him. Her memory would have to suffice in bringing Matthew up to speed on all that he had missed since George was born; and she would make sure that it did.

Mary returned to her mission in earnest then, raising the book to eye level and reading the first line again, grateful that it was no longer true and vowing that as long as she walked the earth, it never would be again.

"October 29th, 1921

"I am the Cat who walks by himself and all places are alike to me."

…

AN: First, this segment of "Resurrection" is dedicated to a very sweet woman on tumblr, matthewmaryforever, who took the time to pin 12 of her favorite quotes from all my works on lovely backdrops and post them on tumblr and instagram. Her thoughtful gift and appreciation of my stories will not be forgotten.

For those who have read "Patient #9, you know that this story ends with the same line as it begins so I feel like I've come full circle with both tales. I guess I have!

I hope you have liked this piece of my "Patient #9" AU and will recommend it to anyone who was not satisfied with where Julian Fellowes brought Matthew and Mary. I am clearly of the opinion that they deserved a HEA and all my stories will give them that.

This tale like my others incorporates characters that Mr. or Lord Fellowes created, which I give him full credit for, Downton canon, historical characters and events, and those I have given birth to (not literally). Joseph Cosgrove and Lilian Pomeroy have become so real to me by now that I forget they were not part of Downton to begin with.

There is a 20 year period between Patient #9/Resurrection and the epilogue to my first story which takes place at the beginning of WWII. Therefore, I have a lot of ground to cover and will continue writing if you continue reading.

My next story will detail Matthew's visit to his mother at Crawley House. I hope you will keep me on alert so you will know when it is posted.

Thank you for reading this story and special thanks to all those who review it. This labor of love took a lot out of me so your feedback means a great deal.