/Gift Wrap and Well Wishers/
/Lavinia is to marry Matthew. And although Mary feels she should hate Lavinia for it, she can't bring herself to.
AU, because Sir Richard is already out of the picture before the Spanish flu epidemic starts, and Lavinia doesn't die of flu. Also, Mary takes up driving to distract herself.
A frustrated groan escaped Mary's lips as she bounded down the entrance hall, her sun hat sopping wet and skin like ice. Really, she should have remembered to bring her umbrella with her on her afternoon drive to the village. That, and a spare tire.
Shivering terribly, Mary ripped her hat off of her head and shrugged her coat off unceremoniously. Hopefully she could disappear to her room for a few hours and then change for dinner. She just needed to stay out of everyone's way while they planned the wedding. The brunette couldn't bring herself to listen to the gushing over the happy couple.
Thankfully, none of the servants or Carson spotted her as she scurried up the steps and down the corridor to her room.
Mary swung the door open and slammed it behind her, pressing her back into it. She had her eyes closed, sighing gratefully for no one had seen her in such a humiliating state.
"M'lady?"
Horrified, the lady's eyes flew open and she glanced over to her bed where Anna stood, holding a cloth bag in the shape of a dress.
"Anna," Mary breathed. Immediately she began brushing herself off, as nonchalantly as she could. "What are you doing here so early?"
The young maid looked just as embarrassed to be found alone in her lady's bedroom. The blonde stuttered, "I'm sorry, m'Lady. Her ladyship wanted me to bring up your dress for Mr. Crawley and Miss Swire's wedding. She was going to have Mrs. Hughes do it but she couldn't find her."
Nodding, Mary replied, "Yes, her ladyship said she would buy me a new frock when she went to London last week. Oh wait-" she held up a gloved hand to halt Anna from opening the cloth bag. "It isn't necessary. I don't want to see it right now; I'm sure it's lovely."
Anna knew her lady more than a maid should, so she wordlessly lay the dress on an armchair and stood with her fingers folded together. "Would you like me to help you into something more comfortable and less...wet, m'Lady?" She inquired with a gentle, humored smile.
Realizing she was still in her soaking wet clothes, Mary closed her eyes and shook her head. She snorted, "I forgot how silly I look. You don't have to help me change. Just please get me a skirt and that Georgette blouse with the coiffed collar. Thankfully, my hair isn't a total mess; my hat protected it."
Already on task, Anna asked, "I take it I shouldn't speak of this to Mrs. Hughes or Mr. Carson?"
"Please don't," Mary responded, unbuttoning her dress. "They'll only tell my parents. His lordship is already strained because I'm out driving alone now and her ladyship has gotten tiresome with her nagging about sitting with the wedding party. I really don't need them pounding over my head anymore. I have enough on my plate as it is."
Understanding, the blonde maid curtsied, gathered a few supplies and left the room.
Mary sighed and slipped off her clothing sans her corset, stockings and slip. She smoothed down her hair and looked back at the door where Anna had just been, wondering if the blond would come in any minute.
But the lady decided to go on a whim and dove for the dress. She expertly undid the buttons on the bag and stole a brief glance at the exquisite rubicund fabric, most likely chiffon, studded in diamonds and accompanied by a pearl choker. Mary didn't know why, but she felt her face grow warm. Tears stung the corners of her eyes.
Biting her lip, Mary covered up her sin and slowly made her way back to her bed, tightly clutching whatever was left of her sanity. She fell back into the mattress and let the salty, hot tears fall down the sides of her head. She hugged herself desperately.
Ironically, with all the people running up and down the halls of the estate, with Matthew so within her reach, Mary felt lonelier than ever.
Hours after dinner, Mary escaped into the library, away from the prying eyes of her parents, Matthew, Carson, and worst of all, Grandmama. Her grandmother never knew when to quit harassing her over dinner about when she'd be heading to America. Mary knew Violet was only trying to help her get over her feelings about the wedding, but it certainly wasn't helping with Matthew's quirked eyebrow and crooked smile directed at her from across the table.
Now she wished she really were in America, taking calls, going to parties, having fun. Instead she was surrounded by incredible flower arrangements that could have come from Eden, gifts from well-wishers wrapped elegantly by shimmering tissue wrap, none of them for her. And to think, it would have been hers. All of it if she hadn't been so stupid.
She stroked the delicate porcelain angel placed next to one of the gifts. The tiny thing was painted in watercolors, her penny-sized face pink and hair strawberry blonde. Her white dress, probably made to resemble a wedding dress, had a shiny finish, as did her lovely wings.
Mary held it in her palms, staring bitterly at it. She looked so much like Lavinia. And the lady could swear that someone had brought it in purposefully. Probably Edith.
Her chest erupted in a sudden surge of rage, and she hurled the angel into the floor, both satisfied and shocked to hear it shatter.
More shockingly, Lavinia hustled in through the door without warning. "Oh my God, Mary," she gasped, hurrying to the brunette's side. "Are you quite alright?"
Miss Swire's pale hand reached out for her. The lady flinched when she felt her arm being touched, still surprised by what she'd done.
"Mary, speak to me," the red head pleaded.
When her vision stopped blurring, the brunette looked up and breathed, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to break it."
Pleased to see that the lady was responsive, Lavinia gently rubbed the sides of Mary's arms and replied, "It's alright, I thought it was tacky anyway."
Mary swallowed her remaining pain and nodded, somewhat comforted by Miss Swire's kind gesture. She cleared her throat, smiled, and asked, "What are you doing here still? Don't you have to go home? A bride needs her beauty rest before her big day."
Lavinia's cheeks became redder than usual and she answered, "Lady Grantham asked me to stay the night, seeing as I'll be getting up early to come here anyways."
"I see," the brunette responded, subtly clenching and relaxing her jaw. She saw it helped her hold her tongue in dire circumstances.
The red head nodded, and as Mary started to excuse herself, she pressed a hand over the lady's and begged, "Wait! I-I...need advice."
Bewildered, Mary replied, "Oh? And what kind of advice is that?"
Lavinia exhaled heavily, saying, "Well...you 're just so close to Matthew. You know him so well it seems. I-I just want your help understanding him."
"What do you mean?"
Growing increasingly nervous, Miss Swire bit down on her lower lip. "Well you see, I notice you two talking with each other, laughing, smiling at each other from across the table. I'm not insinuating anything of course, you are family after all. But you've known him much longer than I. You can unnerve him or coil him up like a bundle of copper with a single word. I only wish I could effect like that."
Mary scoffed, "If you don't think Matthew loves you like he does then maybe you shouldn't be marrying him after all."
Lavinia's eyes glistened and she bowed her head. Instantly, the brunette felt a pang of regret in her stomach. Seeing Miss Swire cry always rattled Mary. A person as tender as her didn't deserve such pain.
"Now, now," Mary said affectionately, brushing away Lavinia's tears with her fingers. "You must think me quite horrid."
Sad blue eyes gazed into the lady's brown, quietly hiccuping, "B-b-but you're not horrid, don't you see? When I arrived at Downton, everyone stayed an arm's length away from me, like I was some sort of intruder. And in many ways, I was. But Mary, you defied my expectations by welcoming me with open arms. You stayed with me while Matthew was away at war, and nursed me back to health when I was sick. You were by my side this whole time and you had no obligation to be."
Mary's lips parted as Lavinia curled her fingers around hers. "You were my only friend, Mary," she whispered.
Throbbing sorrow echoed in Mary's heart and it swept through her body. She wanted to hate Lavinia, to despise her very existence for standing in the way of her happiness. But she couldn't. Her tongue burned with scalding remarks, and if she hadn't cared, she would let them fly so her mouth would be safe, but she swallowed them down and cupped Lavinia's cheek.
"We'll always be friends, you and I," the lady confirmed gently. "When we're old and leaning on each other for support, we'll sit in the village together and make fun of the new fashions all the young people are wearing."
Lavinia's reddened nostrils flared as she giggled, "Though we won't look much better."
Mary felt a genuine, giddy smile spread over her face. Eager to share it with Lavinia, she leaned in and pressed her lips against the girl's.
Miss Swire audibly gasped into Mary's mouth, stunning the brunette. The lady tugged herself away, eyes wide, lips raw and stomach on fire.
"I...I'm so sorry," she murmured, "I wasn't thinking."
Lavinia struggled to speak when Mr. Carson abruptly walked in, puzzled by the ladies' presence in the library. "M'lady, Miss Swire, isn't it rather late?" He asked.
Righting herself, Mary nodded and plastered a polite smile on, saying, "Right you are, Carson. Lavinia and I were just talking about the wedding. But it is getting late, we should go up."
She excused herself promptly and fled the room, terribly humiliated. After a few more steps, Mary leaned against a nearby pillar and exhaled sharply. How incredibly foolish she'd been-
"Mary," Lavinia's soft voice uttered behind her.
The lady spun around, hasty to walk away from more embarrassment. She shook her head and threw her arms up in defeat. "What?" She breathed.
A cheeky smile appeared on the red head's lips. She murmured, "Maybe you should stop thinking more often."
Author's Note: My first Downton Abbey fic, and revolving around a two year old story line, no less! I just recently started shipping Marynia, after I rewatched series 2 and got really nostalgic. I'm not gonna lie, I love Mary and Matthew, but I also really love Lavinia's interactions with Mary.
On another note, I was trying to get their mannerisms right. I would read the lines in their voices to see if they sounded good. I think they're alright. Please review and check out my other stuff!