This is a story based on my interpretation of some events in the series 2, episode 6 preview. It'll be a few chapters long, but I'll try to get it all posted before episode 6 actually airs. As it is based on the epiosde 6 preview, it does contain spoilers from series 2, episode 1 to 5 and the episode 6 prevew.
Hope you enjoy reading!
Another laugh escaped Mary's lips as she rounded the corner of the saloon and headed towards the library, or the games room as it was now. She was becoming familiar now with the movement of the wheelchair and managed to avoid knocking Matthew's foot against the stone wall. It didn't stop Matthew from joking about it though, about how plenty of times she had banged his feet against the stonework or furniture, laughing at how it made no bother to him and how she would apologise so. His laughter filled with fake mirth, his jokes masking the tension lining his tone; hiding his bitterness and resentment behind his cheerfulness. He did that a lot lately, ever since he'd recovered enough to be moved to the Abbey, making jokes about his condition as Mary wheeled him around in his chair. She laughed along with them, her chuckles more boisterous to mask the tightness that filled her chest whenever she thought of the meaning behind the words, the reason for his jokes. It was a coping mechanism for them both and Mary knew she needed it almost as much as Matthew.
The laughter quickly died in her throat though, as she saw Sir Richard coming towards them. It was not seeing him that made her almost still in her movement, but the poorly masked thunderous temper that was etched into his face. He was coming towards them from the library and Mary carefully brought the wheelchair to a stop as he reached them, trying her best to meet his dark, menacing gaze.
"Hello Richard." Her voice was cheerful, too cheerful perhaps and Mary knew her smile failed to meet her eyes.
"Good afternoon, Mary," Sir Richard replied, his eyes looking far too intently into her own, probing, and Mary found she could not hold his gaze. "Hello Captain Crawley." He nodded down at Matthew, who had grown so very still and quiet since they'd seen Sir Richard. The coldness of his address to her cousin surprised Mary and she looked up at her fiancée, a man who, for all she was going to marry, she knew so very little about. The fury in his eyes was better masked now, but Mary could still see it there, simmering beneath the surface. She felt her knuckles tighten on the handles of the wheelchair and tried to ignore the anxiety that creeped along her spine.
"I did not know we were to expect you until this evening," Mary breezed after Matthew had replied to Sir Richard's greeting, trying to keep her voice light, pleasant amidst the rising tension that seemed to sneak into and choke the air around them.
"My business today finished sooner than expected and I was able to catch an earlier train."
"Oh," Mary nodded, unable to bite back her exclamation. She recovered quickly though, as she usually did. "Well, it is certainly a nice surprise. Have the servants brought you some tea?"
"They have thank you, Mary." He paused a moment, glanced around him, down at Matthew, before fixing Mary a bright smile that made the blood in her veins run cold. "Perhaps I may have a word."
Her first, instinctive reaction was to look down at Matthew, but a moment later, when she saw the spark of anger roar in Sir Richard's eyes, she realised her mistake. A nurse, passing at just that moment, saved Mary from speaking and Sir Richard quickly acquired her help. As the nurse came up behind Mary to take hold of Matthew's chair, she was quite surprised to find her grip had tightened considerably and her knuckles were almost white. Mary quickly let go and stepped away, shocked by her own reaction and unwillingly to admit the reasons that may lie behind it; that she did not want to leave Matthew's side and speak to her future husband alone.
"Of course." With her brightest, most charming smile fixed to her face, she nodded at Carlisle and began walking towards the library. She found herself unable to stop herself looking back at Matthew and giving him a much warmer smile, a promise of return in her eyes. Matthew's own face was expressionless; the polite smile fixed on his lips discordant with the emptiness in his eyes as he looked at her and nodded. The knot in her chest grew tighter, but Mary knew it was foolish to expect anything else. Even when Matthew was laughing and joking with her, perhaps then even more so, the shadows still lined his face and the void still consumed his eyes.
She tore her gaze away and looked again at her fiancée, the smile there still fixed, though it slipped slightly when she saw that spark of rage flicker again across his face.
An odd sensation twisted her stomach as she slowly shut the door behind Sir Richard, a feeling which reminded Mary far too strongly of what she often felt after bitter spars with her sister. A feeling she found hard not to attribute to guilt. Why she should feel guilty, she was determined not to think upon as she stepped further into the cool, quiet space of the library. It seemed to be the topic that Sir Richard was fixated upon though, for he rounded on her as soon as the door clicked shut on the small, partitioned library.
"I don't want you spending any more time with him!" His voice was low, surprisingly quiet in the deathly silence that filled this vacant space, for there were no shouts or laughs coming from next door today, for the soldiers had all been taken outside on such a fine afternoon. Even in their quietness, his words still thrummed with an anger and tension that made Mary think unwittingly of a wound up toy about to snap, his words resonating with power around the small, confined space.
Mary let out a small chuckle, though it rang false even to her own ears as it echoed around the room. "I do not know what you mean."
He walked towards her then, his steps slow and measured, yet reeking of power and unspoken threats. Mary found herself instinctively stepping backwards, until she came up to a bookshelf and could move no further. Sir Richard continued to pace towards her, his eyes like the stalking tigers she'd once seen in books as a child. She had the sickening feeling she was the prey, but she held her head firm and kept her smile and feigned innocence plastered to her face.
"Don't play games with me, Lady Mary," Sir Richard finally spoke when he'd reached her, his face pushing so close to hers she could feel his breathe on her cheek. "I am no fool and do not make the mistake of thinking me one."
Mary forced down the urge to turn her face away from Sir Richard's, his breath making her skin crawl until she could stand it no longer and pushed him away completely. She was not going to let him intimidate her like this though, or at least she was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that it was working. She brushed down her skirts almost idly as she looked at him, not bothering any more to keep her smile fixed on her face. She wondered if this was the real Carlisle, the real face of the man she was to marry, or if his current actions were merely accentuated by the rage and jealousy that currently simmered within him. Oh how times had changed, even Sir Anthony would have been better than this!
When she finally spoke, she was pleased her voice was calm, her tone dry and indifferent, "I would never assume you a fool, Richard, for how could I marry a fool!"
"Then you should heed my words and not attempt to trick me."
Mary was relieved when he at least kept his distance this time, though the rage and jealousy simmering in his eyes remained and it was only her years of practice of wearing a mask that allowed her to stand tall and look him directly in the eye. "I am not aware that I am trying to trick you, nor do I understand the logic within your words."
"Then you must think me a fool, if you do not believe I am aware of the attentions you show towards Captain Crawley."
He still made no more move towards her, but his hands clenched threateningly by his side and Mary found it impossible not to glance down at them. Instead, she drew herself up taller and held his thunderous eyes defiantly. She may have known all along what he was implying, but she was not going to play his games any more than he was willing to play hers. "Captain Crawley is my cousin and has been injured fighting for our king and country." She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in and hiding her own flicker of triumph as Sir Richard flinched slightly under her accusation. "He is in need of care and company and since the nurses are far too preoccupied helping all the other injured soldiers, I see no cause for concern as to why it should fall upon me, the oldest of his cousins, to help."
"And you think I am not aware of the history between you two?" He took another threatening step towards her, making his intentions perfectly clear. "Do you think I am such a fool as to not see that your care goes beyond those expected of a mere cousin? Do you think I am blind to the way you look at him, the way you talk and laugh with him? That I am willing to abide my fiancée spending time with the man she is clearly still in love with?"
It took every ounce of Mary's strength to not let her mask collapse at his words. She was not sure which was more shocking, that Sir Richard would speak so, or that he had discovered so, but Mary knew it did not matter and she quickly regained her power over words, "I am wrong in my estimation of you, Sir Richard, for if you believe your words to be true, you must clearly be a fool." She turned away from him, as much to show this conversation was at an end as to ensure he did not see the truth behind the lies she had uttered. She had almost reached the door when his parting words caused her movements to still and her heart to jump in her throat.
"Do not think you can lie to me, Mary, for you do not want to test my patience." When Mary had turned around to face him fully, he continued, his voice once again calm, measured, but full of all the threat of a gathering storm, "You must not forget you are in my debt, and I will see you pay if you disobey me."
"And, pray tell, Sir Richard, what is it you expect me to do? Captain Crawley is my cousin. He lives currently under my roof and requires my help. He is also still engaged to another woman as I am engaged to you."
"I expect you to remember your position and that you are engaged to me. I expect you to behave as the great and haughty Lady you are, and to stop insulting my intelligence by playing nurse maid to man you are still in love with." His voice started out relatively calm, but the anger and rage slowly began to creep into his words, into his posture, his hands clenching and his feet bringing him all the more closer to her.
Mary refused to step back this time, instead looking him directly in the eye as she replied, "Then you need have no fear, for I am well aware of how to conduct and govern my behaviour and will give you no reason to think otherwise. However, Matthew is my cousin and I will not see your jealousy prevent me from giving him the help he clearly needs."
Before he could utter another word, she opened the library door and began to walk away, almost tripping over the wheelchair, which in her haste had escaped her notice. Regaining her balance, she glanced up and straight into the cold, emotionless eyes of Matthew. She quickly glanced away, looking around, but the nurse was no where in sight. Mary could only surmise that she had been called away on another duty and had pushed Matthew against the door, out of the way; just left him there, right outside the library door. She noticed then that his fingers were gripping the arms of his chair tightly and his face seemed harder than usual, his eyes more deliberately empty. It suddenly occurred to her in a rush of panic, that Matthew had most likely heard every single word spoken between her and Sir Richard Carlisle.