Chapter 1
They twirled around the dance floor, effortlessly, in sync and owning the floor as if they were the only two people in the room. They only had eyes for each other. But they were under the watchful gazes of many others, not the least of whom were his mother, the Dowager Countess, Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. Oh, and Anna, who was not only her ladyship's maid but her closet confidante, friend and a supporter of them both. She had become a real fan of Mr. Matthew's during and after her beloved John's trial for all of the legal work he did on their behalf. And her ladyship had shown herself to be like a sister to her, standing by them since the beginning of their courtship and marriage.
Now, Anna looked out on the young pair on the dance floor, so much in love and yet so afraid to walk away from their past hurts and go forward. They had unwavering faith in each other, it was so obvious to all those who inhabited this great house, and yet they couldn't trust their own selves. Young people who survived a horrific war, yet were so stubborn they could not each forgive themselves their own transgressions. And what was the only real sin between them? It was loving the other more than their own lives, They needed each other to breath, to be fully alive and everyone at Downton knew it.
As the evening went on, Mary took in all of the sights and sounds around. This may be her last servants ball for a long time, maybe forever, she thought wistfully, and she wanted to remember all of it, every detail, from what the female servants were wearing, to the music to the drink and conversation. She needed to soak it all in and take it with her to America.
The evening was a mix of joy and melancholy for her. Joy, because she was finally free of Sir Richard, and sadness thinking how she was going to soon be departing her home, her life and having to start over in a whole new world, separated from her family and, of course, separated from Matthew. She could almost bear leaving behind Downton, no matter how much she was attached to her home. But to possibly never see Matthew again, and to be married off to someone other than him was a pain that she really could not bear. She had lived with the pain of Matthew never being hers for so many years now, she should be used to it, but she never really could.
When he asked her to dance late into the festivities, Mary hesitated for the briefest of moments, thinking that she could not make it through without falling apart. To be held in his arms and to never feel that again would be too much. Then she decided, why not. Why not enjoy the feel of his strong yet gentle arms around her, hands holding her so sweetly and lovingly , the feel of his breath so close to hers and the warmth from his gaze one last time. It would be a memory she would cherish all of her days. A memory to keep her warm during cold New York winters.
Matthew decided to just go for it and get in one more dance with her. If she was really set on going to America, he wanted this last chance, to either convince her to stay, or to just savor the memory of holding her one more time. He was going to hold her a little closer than propriety called for and not care the the whole room would see, He would kiss her if that was possible, but of course he knew it wouldn't be. He was going to breathe in her fresh lavender perfume and memorize every inch of her face, and make sure the feel of her soft skin would be embedded deep into his memories so that he could relive it when he needed to for years and years to come,
When he asked her for details of her plans for her voyage to America, she answered him in that clipped Mary manner. No exact itinerary yet but things were moving forward, or something to that effect. She showed no crack.
After that they danced in silence, but their glances and touches said so much. Wanting the song to never end, they held on for the time they had.
When the dance was over, she politely thanked him and he her, but they held hands and held their gazes for just a moment or two longer than necessary and then she walked away. It was in that moment that Matthew knew he had to act tonight. He had to follow through on the promise he made to himself after the fight with Sir Richard a few evenings prior. He had acted on his mother's advice to "fight for her" even if it was not planned.
The war had made Matthew abhor all violence. He hated what it did to him and other young men, turning them into killers and at times savages. All the grotesque destruction can make men immune to the horrors while they are in the thick of it and Matthew was no exception. It was at times a survival mechanism. Once he left the front, he made a pact with himself to bury that part of him for good.
But that didn't Matthew was not going to walk away from doing the right thing and defending those who are wronged, and he was not going to let Mary be ruined by that man, Therefore, if taking Sir Richard on in a battle of fists was what was necessary to defend Mary and get him out of her life, then Matthew thought, so be it. It did admit to himself it did feel good when his fist made impact with that smug bastard's face, he recalled.
He went in search of Carson, asking him if he knew where his coat was. Carson, who had been discreetly keeping an eye on the future heir and Lady Mary all evening while he and Mrs. Hughes hosted the festivities, was a bit surprised at the inquiry. "Are you leaving us for the evening, Mr, Crawley?" the grand butler asked. "No, no Carson and I assure you I am not asking you to fetch my coat for me. I just needed to retrieve something out of my pocket please," Matthew replied, with a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Oh, I can take you to your coat, sir. Not trouble at all, it would be my pleasure," Carson said. "Follow me."
Chapter 2
Mary found it all too much to bear. She needed to get some air to cool down the flush that she could feel spreading all over her body. Sure, she could attribute it to the overall warmth generated by all the people and activity at the ball but that would just be fooling herself. She knew full well why she felt what she did. It was being in Matthew's arms, having him talk in that intimate manner while looking at her so directly. She tried to avert his gaze but kept being drawn back to his soulful blue eyes.
Not until she found herself escaping from the great hall out through a side entrance and into the crisp, cold night air could she relax. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting herself fill up with a feeling of refreshment. Another deep breath and she felt some feelings of contentment creep over her. She loved the country air and it was here in these quiet moments of solitude that her soul found peace, she could mend her wounds. As much as she appreciated the culture and excitement London and Paris offered, she knew at heart she was a country girl. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she thought of leaving Downton soon, knowing she would be leaving a big part of herself behind. The idea of it began to hurt, as if something was being physically removed from her.
Just then she heard footsteps softly crunch in the snow that had begun to cover the ground. She quickly drew in a deep breath to regain her composure and squelch back those tears that wanted to spill out.
"Well, that was fun. There'll be a few thick heads in the morning," the voice said.
It was Matthew.
Not able to quite yet face him, Mary kept her eyes straight ahead and joked, "No doubt they think it's worth it."'
A few more awkward moments of silence passed before Matthew, standing with hands in pockets, said, "So, you're really going to America."
She simply nodded and whispered every so softly "hmm."
Matthew sighed, before saying, "Well, if you are really leaving then I have a going-away gift for you."
He reached his hand into his left pocket.
At this, Mary turned to face him, arms still crossed over her body, with a small frown across her forehead. "Matthew, whatever do you mean? You don't need to do that."
With a shy yet impish smile across his face, he said, "Close your eyes and give me your hand, Mary."
Nervous, and unsure, she swallowed then made a playful, yet nervous, roll of her eyes, " Oh Matthew, what is this."
"Please, Mary,:" Matthew took on a more serious pleading tone.
Reading his face, she knew she really had no choice but to go along. "Well, all right," Mary said breathlessly.
She reluctantly followed Matthew's wish and closed her eyes. A sort of delicious anticipation crept over her and she felt her heart beat getting faster when Matthew's hand gently took hold of hers. She wished at this moment she wasn't wearing gloves and it was his hand on hers, no barriers between them. Next , she felt something small and covered in soft warm cloth in her hand.
She gently moved her fingers over it and felt the small glass circles. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She was almost afraid to open her eyes in fear that this time she would not be successful in keeping the tears at bay.
"Mary?" Matthew said softly, just above a whisper.
She opened her eyes and smiled gently, so overcome with emotion.
"A promise is a promise. Returned without a scratch," he said, adding with a nervous chuckle, "Well, nearly anyway."
Trying so hard yet to keep her emotions in check, she took on a teasing manner and looked at him, saying, "Won't you need it?"
He played along, recalling their farewell meeting that morning at the train station in what seemed a lifetime ago. He smiled. "Not as much as you."
She sighed and said, "It did its job. Brought you back safe and sound."
Worried then that her eyes were betraying her, revealing her deep love for him, she quickly looked down at the small gently worn toy dog laying in the the palm of her hand and whispered, "Thank you, Matthew."
She then closed her hand around the toy and turned away to look once again upon the night sky and the snowflakes swirling around like pieces of confetti.
Another awkward silence fell between them, feeling much longer than the mere seconds it really was. Matthew studied her face while she focused on the stars. She was so breathtakingly beautiful. And it wasn't just her classic surface beauty, but the way her spirit could give her a glow that radiated all things around her. It was that light, that flame that always drew him back to her. Time and again it was her spirit and strength that led him home to her and that is where he wanted to stay forever. She was strong, yes, he thought, but not unfeeling, as too many people unfairly portrayed her. She merely kept her feelings in check because she felt things deeply. She could so easily be hurt and he always felt a need to protect her.
With a sense of confidence that can only come from a true love, Matthew knew he had to finish now what he came here to do. Returning the good luck charm was only the first part.
With his eyes still upon her, his voice hoarse with passion that threatened to spill over, Matthew broke the silence. "Would you stay, if I asked you to?"
Caught off guard by his question, Mary didn't have time to put her full armor on and be braced for it. She glanced upwards at him.
"Oh Matthew. You don't really mean that," she replied. "You yourself know we carry more luggage than the porters at King's Cross."
Matthew softly laughed. He might have known she would choose to be flippant. In her defense, he knew he was coming out of the blue with this question.
Mary then took a deep breath before broaching the next subject.
"And what of the late Mr. Pamuk? Won't he resurrect himself every time we argued?" she asked.
Matthew's hesitation to her question clearly showed the issue was not resolved between them and never would be, she thought.
When he finally did speak, Matthew was deliberate, carefully choosing his words.
"He was the reason, wasn't he? Before … when you hesitated," he said,
Mary closely studied his face. His expression was tender, not harsh, or critical. But she could only nod in response to his question as the feelings of despair from all those years ago stirred.
"And you couldn't tell me about him because you were afraid of my reaction, that I would be angry and reject you," Matthew said.
When she refused to meet his gaze, choosing to be safe and look at her feet, Matthew gently prodded, "Mary, it's all right. You don't need my forgiveness."
She could not then resist his gentle manner and when she looked up she found a look of such understanding it gave her courage to find her voice.
"I wanted to tell you so many times. But, I was afraid, I was not strong enough then," Mary explained, her voice catching, "My lack of courage is something I will always regret."
Moved by her pain and admission, Matthew restrained himself from wanting to pull her in and hold her close. He wanted to take away her pain. Instead, he reassured her with this words.
"It wasn't all you, you know, back then. I was stubborn, unsure and full of self righteousness," he acknowledged. "But Mary, it doesn't matter now, none of it."
There is no turning back now, he told himself. Taking a small step closer to Mary, he boldly said, "But, now will you? Stay here, with me?"
Mary's dark brown eyes widened wanting to embrace the joy that was starting to flow through her, but she reminded herself that there was still some obstacles in their way – as always it seemed.
'And what about your vows to the memory of Lavinia?" she asked him, looking at him directly. If she were really honest, she would tell him how much his blaming them for Lavinia's death still stung a bit.
Matthew shouldn't have been but he was taken aback by her question, not because she had asked it but because he realized that he had forgotten all about Lavinia. He had put her out of his mind since the night Carlisle was sent packing. He knew now that he had truly moved on.
"I was wrong," he said as Mary's eyes remained fixed on his face. "I don't think she wants us to be sad."
"I agree," Mary responded, hope spreading through her quickly now.
"Then, please will you?" Matthew pleaded with a slightly boyish smile crossing his lips.
Finally, Mary's whole body broke out in a smile as the chains of the past hurts, mistakes and guilt fell by the way side. All that remained was a feeling of deep love and complete joy filling her up.
"You must do it properly. I won't answer unless you get down on one knee and everything," she teased.
Matthew sighed. She really is going to make me work for this, he thought. But seeing her eyes sparkle as he had never seen them before, he knew he would do whatever she asked of him at that moment. He realized his first proposal in 1914 was spur of the moment, and he was sure Carlisle offered her more of a business deal lacking any sort of romantic overtures. She deserved this one done right.
Giving her a knowing smile, Matthew granted her request - stiff back and all - and got down on one knee in front of her. He reached for her gloved hand, wishing it wasn't covered as he gently rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, He wanted to feel her bare hand warm and soft in his.
Mary beamed and felt as if she were in another world. This isn't really happening, she thought, and if I am in a dream I don't want to wake up.
"Lady Mary Crawley. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Matthew asked with love coursing through him.
This time, unlike all those years ago, she didn't hesitate and was almost so anxious she had to hold herself back.
"Yes," she replied. "Yes!"
Chapter 3
Matthew stood up feeling no pain in his back at that moment, eyes upon her face the whole time. They stared at each other with looks of amazement spilling across their faces. Finally, Matthew sighed, we did it, he thought.
Then seeing the love in Mary's eyes he pulled her into his arms and he kissed her. Hands on her waist, tilted his head to deepen the kiss that had been waiting to be released for months. She returned it with such love and passion she thought her own heart would burst. As he pulled her in as tight as he could, she held onto his shoulders and then moved her hands to his face, holding her dear, handsome love gently in her hands.
When they finally broke the kiss, they looked at each other for a moment before breaking out in laughter. It had been that simple all along, they each seemed to share that thought at that moment. We love each other and that is all that matters.
Acting out of his utter joy, Matthew, hands still around Mary's waist, lifted her off the ground and spun her gently around. Mary was surprised, her Matthew was usually not this spontaneous. But she loved it. She loved him, and could not imagine herself with any other man. She buried her face into his shoulder and began crying tears of joy.
Feeling her wet face against his cheek, Matthew gently set Mary down and putting one finger under her chin softly asked, "My love what's wrong?"
"Oh Matthew. I can't help it. I cannot believe how happy I am right now," she said meeting his gaze while sniffing back her tears.
"I love you, Mary. So much and I have for so long," he said, his breath nearly taken away by her deep brown eyes. He would enjoy for the rest of his life looking into those beautiful eyes that revealed to the world what she wanted to reveal when she wanted to. But Matthew could always see beneath the surface and could look deeper and see directly to her soul.
He kissed her again, tenderly and slowly. This, too, he would enjoy doing for the rest of his life, as her husband.
When they came up for air, Mary said, "I love you, I want to be your wife, make you happy. "
His wife. Matthew's stomach flipped over at hearing her say those words.
"I wish we could marry as soon as possible, tonight," he said, slowly releasing her from his embrace and running his hands down her arms.
"My dear, you must be so cold. Here take my jacket," he said, sliding it off of him and around her shoulders.
"Funny, I don't feel cold," she said smiling right up at him.
"Let's get you inside," Matthew said, turning her, all the while keeping an arm around her shoulders. As they got inside the door, he stopped as reality hit him. "I need to talk to your father. When should we tell everyone?"
"Tomorrow, maybe come for tea, and stay for dinner?" Mary said playfully.
"All right, but I am not sure I can hold off mother for that whole time, She is bound to try to pry something out of me. I will try to keep my happiness hidden as best I can," he chuckled. "though it won't be easy."
"I feel the same way. Anna will surely see through me tonight," Mary replied. At that they walked back toward the hall, but then found themselves stopped as they came upon the library. Seeing no one there and it lit with only the glow from the fireplace, they shared a sly smile and decided to sneak in for a few more stolen moments of privacy and kisses.
Chapter 4
Once inside, Matthew pulled her in close and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked over her face seductively and her heart beat faster before their lips met in a kiss that started soft and slow then deepened. They each let out soft moans as their mouths moved and they held on tight to each other as if they might lose the other if one's grip eased up even the slightest.
As much as they wanted so desperately to continue this path, they pulled apart just enough to break the kiss but still close enough to feel each other's breath on their faces.
"Now, I really cannot wait to get married," Matthew said. "But, I should talk to your father."
Hearing a sound that sounded like a cough, Matthew and Mary turned their heads, to see a stately figure standing near the red arm chair by the fireplace.
"Well, now is as good a time as any, wouldn't you say?" said the Earl of Grantham, holding a crystal glass half filled with brandy.
But that's not all. Sitting stoically in the chair beside him was the Countess,.
"Sir, uh, I am so sorry, I, uh, forgive me," said Matthew. sputtering, barely able to breath, feeling his collar tighten around him like a noose. His palms were sweating, as his hands fidgeted. It was then he realized they were still around Mary's waist and he let go of her so fast she nearly swayed backwards.
"Papa, please, we can explain," Mary started, feeling herself break out in a sweat. "We didn't know you were there. " Then, seeing that Matthew's face was grower paler by the minute, Mary decided to go on the offense. "You should have let us know you were there. It isn't polite to not announce yourselves."
If they were not both so completely happy about the news of these two finally getting together, Cora and Robert would have taken Mary to task for being so impertinent. Instead, they feigned offense and Robert said, "What. announce myself in my own library? I think you owe us an apology."
Just as Matthew started to respond, Robert continued, putting his free hand up and, walking over to his desk to set down his glass, "Nevertheless, I will take in its place confirmation that you two are actually, finally going to agree to marry."
When they saw the softening of the Earl's face, and the smile that Cora could no longer contain, the two young lovers relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. Grabbing his fiance's hand and finding his confidence once again, Matthew responded, "Yes, sir, I asked your daughter tonight to marry me and she has said yes."
"Is this really true, my darling?" Cora addressed Mary, while getting out of the chair and walking to her husband's side.
Looking up at her dear Matthew's face, Mary replied, "Yes, Mama. It's true. We want to be married."
"Oh my dears," Cora said, walking over to the happy couple, her arms opened wide. "We are so pleased for you both."
She hugged Matthew first, even kissing him on the cheek. She then pulled Mary into her arms and gently rocked her as she did when she was a child. "I could not be happier for you my dear sweet girl. My heart has been aching for you to find and accept the true love that was waiting there for you" Cora whispered into her eldest daughter's ear, her own eyes filling with tears.
Matthew had walked over to his future father-in-law, who was pouring his heir a brandy. "I am sorry you had to find out this way, sir. I feel embarrassed, mortified …" Matthew said, averting his eyes.
"Well I cannot say it was the way I had envisioned this happening, but it does not diminish my absolute joy at knowing you and my daughter have finally seen what the rest of us have known for years. You belong together, my son." Robert said, handing Matthew his drink.
"I mean it Matthew, " Robert said, after swallowing a sip of his brandy, and meeting the young man's eyes. "You have always been what is best for Mary. I have seen how much she has loved you even as she has tried her best to hide it over these years. This is the happiest I have seen her in a very long time. Thank you."
Matthew was so moved by these words he almost couldn't swallow his brandy. Finally finding his voice again, he replied, "I cannot express how that makes me feel. You have been so kind to me since welcoming me into the family. I will do my best to make you proud and make Mary happy. " Then taking another sip for courage, Matthew added with a deep sincerity in his voice, "I love your daughter very much. I always have and I always will."
The two men looked at each other, feeling in that moment the father-son bond that had been growing between them for the past 7 years. Robert's eyes glistened and he hugged the young man that he already loved like a son.
"Well, I think it is getting late, and it is time to call it a night," the two men heard Cora say from across the room.
"Yes, I agree," Robert added, composing himself again. "Between the servants' ball festivities and this exciting news, I am getting tired out. Time to turn in."
Then a thought came to him, "Matthew, is your mother still here?"
"No, no she's not," the young man replied. "She left a awhile ago, and I told her I was staying on for a bit."
He looked over and shared a knowing glance with Mary.
"Oh, well then I will call the car around to take you home and we shall see you here tomorrow? We can tell the rest of the family then I should think," the earl, said taking charge of the situation.
"Actually, we were thinking we could have Matthew and Isobel come for tea and ask granny to come as well," Mary chimed in. "Then Matthew could stay on for dinner?" she suggested to her parents, with a smile like a teenager asking permission to go to her first dance.
"Yes, of course, we can talk wedding plans and all. It's all so wonderful," said Cora, all smiles.
"Well, then it's settled apparently," said Robert. "Now, then, Cora and I will turn in. I will let you two have a few minutes to say goodnight before I send Carson in to let Matthew know the car is ready." He turned with a knowing glint in his eye before heading over to leave a kiss on his daughter's cheek. "Good night, my dear. I am so happy for you," he whispered in his eldest daughter's ear.
"Goodnight Papa," Mary responded, with tears glistening in her eyes.
Chapter 5
Once the earl and countess left the room, Mary turned to her fiance and with a twinkle in her eye, "Now, we only have a few minutes before our chaperone Carson shows up."
"How should we take advantage of the time, I wonder?" Matthew smiled with his hands reaching out for hers.
Mary blushed but leaned in to give him a quick, but tender kiss. "Will that do?"
"Very nice," Matthew responded, his brow furrowed for a moment as he pretended to contemplate a serious matter. "But, how about this?" he asked, putting his arms around Mary's waist and pulling her in close so that their noses were mere inches apart. He smirked and he looked so boyish and adorable Mary almost giggled. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You are beautiful, you know that," Matthew spoke so tenderly a warmth spread throughout Mary's body beginning with her face, making her blush. But, feeling a bit a cheeky, she said, "Oh. Matthew. I've already said yes."
Matthew chuckled and thought, that's my girl. Their eyes met, then, and he felt as if he would burst if he didn't kiss her right now. When his lips met hers. she responded willingly and openly, feeling so honest and real for the first time in years. She had not felt this free since the time they first kiss in the dining room all those years ago.
They reluctantly broke their kiss but kept their embrace, Mary placing her head on Matthew's chest. He smelled clean, like soap, but also woodsy. She breathed him, wanting to keep that memory with her if she in fact was going to wake up from this dream. Matthew gently rubbed his hand up and down her back and loved the delicate scent of lavender and mint in her hair - it was so natural and unaffected, so Mary. He liked that she didn't use overly heavy perfumes or sweet roses.
Their reverie was broken when they heard footsteps approaching and realized Caron would be there in mere seconds. They let go of each other and stood just quietly smiling.
"Excuse me, Lady Mary, but the car is ready for Mr. Crawley," Carson said, in that very Carson manner.
She turned to Carson with a smile so warm that the stately butler tilted his head slightly, rightly thinking that something was different in the air.
He then left the young people alone again.
"Well, I really should get going, even if I don't want to," Matthew said. "Aside from Carson's watchful eye, Mother will be getting suspicious or worried something has happened. She still worries about my back."
That last comment jolted Mary back to some reality and she felt selfish for not thinking of Matthew's discomfort after picking her up outside."How is our back? Are you alright?" she inquired, placing a hand upon his forearm.
"Tonight ,I don't feel a thing," Matthew joked. When she gave him that Lady Mary tell-me-the-truth sideways glance, he answered, "I am fine, Mary, really. It does bother me from time to time, you know tightens up and gets stiff sometimes, but if that is all it is I can easily live with that."
"Good," she said, relieved to hear that.
"Well, this time I am leaving. Follow me to the door?" Matthew asked.
"Of course."
Carson was there waiting for them and he handed Matthew his coat and hat. Matthew looked right at Mary with a glint in his eye, and she caught his meaning. Should they let Carson in on the news now?
Emboldened by love and happiness and all kinds of other feelings he could not put into words. Matthew reached for Mary's hand, and said," Lady Mary, thank you for a lovely evening," and he brought her hand to his lips and playfully kissed it. She smiled and suppressed a giggle. "Thank you, kind sir," Mary nodded in a very ladylike manner. "We will see you tomorrow then. Tea?"
"Absolutely," he said, straightening himself and placing his hat on his head, Matthew turned to the butler said, "Good night, Carson."
The servant nodded and then, as Matthew descended the stairs through the large, ornate doors, Matthew looked over his shoulder for one last look at his love, winked and said, "Good night, darling."
Mary could not help but smile as Matthew then climbed into the car. She stayed on the steps to watch the car carrying her beloved away amidst the silent, soft snowfall, keeping her eyes on the vehicle until it was out of her sight. Then, turning to head back inside the house, she turned to look at the servant who was like a second father to her and gave him a knowing smile.
He just studied her for a moment, letting just the hint of a smile play about his mouth.
Deciding to put him out of his misery, Mary said, "Yes Carson. I am to be married. I will be Mrs. Matthew Crawley." She paused and added almost to herself, "Yes, at last."
The butler gave into his emotions for a moment and smiled, "Congratulations, milady."
She put her hand on his arm, and gave it a gentle pat, "Thank you, Carson. I am heading to bed now. Don't bother sending Anna up. I doubt I will be able to sleep much right away anyway. I feel too happy."
As he watched the eldest Crawley daughter, his favorite, glide up the stairs with a lightness to her steps, Carson sniffed back a few tears and said to himself. "As it should be, milady."
Chapter 6
Four months later, late April 1920
The sunshine and soft spring breezes, bring a freshness and optimism to the grounds of the great house at Downton.
But, the mood inside the home was more like a grey, cold November day. The family and staff inside have been thrown into a darkness upon learning the fortune of the Earl of Grantham is all but gone. Poor investments or and unforeseen post-war downturns in financial markets have left the family's finances in a mess and, thus, the great Crawley family's future in doubt.
These should be joyous times in the house as the family prepares for the marriage of eldest daughter Lady Mary to the future earl, the young heir Matthew Crawley. The wedding is only two weeks away but the financial situation has cast gloom and even doubt on those festivities.
Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson, ever the loyal servants, have stressed to the rest of the household staff over the past few weeks to conduct themselves with the same courtesy and professionalism as they have always done, especially in wake of this turmoil. Above all, the housekeeper and butler firmly instructed, there will be no gossiping inside or outside these walls regarding the Crawley family's situation.
But when voices raised in anger can be heard coming from the library as the engaged couple argue, even Mrs, Hughes felt distressed. "I do hope they can get through this," the venerable housekeeper said to Mr. Carson as they met in the great hall as wedding presents were being opened and displayed on tables. "They seemed to be so settled before and with all they have been through in their young lives they deserve some real happiness," she said.
Her words surprised Carson a bit, as Mrs. Hughes was never much of a fan of Lady Mary, one of the very few subjects of contention between these two, longtime servants and friends.
"Yes, I couldn't agree more Mrs. Hughes. But, I have faith in both of them to work this out. They are both of such fine character," Carson replied, speaking more confidently then he felt.
Meanwhile, in the library Mary and Matthew continued their debate.
"So, that is it then, is it?" Mary said, throwing her arms into the air in frustration. "You get the final word on the future of this family and you have decided to turn away."
Exasperated and overwhelmed, Matthew ran a hand over his brow and took a deep breath before replying. "Don't do this, Mary. You know I want nothing more than to find a solution to all of this, but this one is NOT the right answer. " Placing his hands gently on his finance's upper arms. Matthew took on a softer tone and looked her in the eye, " Please understand. I cannot in good conscious accept the inheritance from Reginald Swire. I was not his son-in-law. I even betrayed his daughter before she died."
Rolling her eyes and backing away from him, Mary's patience was gone now. "Oh stop it, please Matthew! Enough of this guilt over Lavinia. When you asked me to marry you this time you told me you were sure. That there were no more doubts and our respective pasts were behind us. You talked about the future. And now, still more than a year since her passing, you resurrect this phantom guilt over Lavinia."
As Matthew tilted his head, his blue eyes getting that icy look they get when angry, Mary pushed on even further. "I refuse to partake any more in this guilt over her death. I cared for her as a friend and I was torn over our indiscretion, but I am not going to feel bad or guilty about loving you. And I have loved you for years and want to keep loving you, but I cannot and will not be pushed aside over ghosts you have not buried yet."
At those words, Matthew felt as if he was slapped in the face. Mary herself knew she had wounded him. She felt some regret looking at her beloved Matthew's face, but she knew this was the time, now, to get all of it out in the open. She didn't want more secrets or issues carried to the altar.
Then, taking a softer approach, Mary said,
"Matthew, Reginald Swire made you his heir after his daughter's passing. Meaning he forgave you for sins, real or otherwise, he or you thought you committed against Lavinia. He wanted you to carry on the family trust because he TRUSTED you. And he was right to do that," Mary said, moving closer to Matthew, only inches now separating them.
Matthew remained silent as he pondered her words. He knew if he accepted that inheritance his family, and his future, would be more secure and they could rebuild upon that foundation.
Rationally, he acknowledged that what she was saying made sense and was likely correct - likely. But emotionally he could not reconcile his guilt with that trust Reginald Swire place upon him.
Matthew finally responded. "Mary, I love you more than anything on this earth. You have to know that by now," he said. "But, " he continued, now breaking eye contact and looking over her shoulder, "I just cannot accept that money. It would not be morally right to do so. At least for me. We can find some other way to help the family. This is not it."
Mary, tears of anger and betrayal now filling her eyes, stepped back and fists balled, said "Oh Matthew how can you be so selfish and so disappointing. " At that she ran out of the library. and found her way out of the house. She needed some air, a walk to clear her mind and settle her anger.
Matthew stood still, as if his feet had once again become as immobile as they were when he was injured in the war. He felt overwhelmed and worried and angry as a wave of emotions all tossed together washed over him one after another. I can't lose her again., he thought. I just can't.
Also wishing for some air, Matthew then found his legs and purposefully headed outdoors as well, unaware that he was going in the opposite direction of Mary.
All of this was observed from a upstairs sitting room window. "What have I done," the Earl said aloud to himself. "The young are paying for my mistakes." He then set down and began to pray.
Chapter 7
Hours later, in the late afternoon, hints of evening approaching, Matthew found himself back at Crawley House. Mosely greeting him at the door, taking his hat. It was too warm that day for an overcoat. Matthew mumbled his thanks and wandered wearily to the sitting room. He just wanted to sit and rest. Truth be told, his back was bothering him some from walking and walking for hours. And from stress too, no doubt.
He leaned back into the cushions of the sofa and closed his eyes.
Hearing someone approach, Matthew, said, "Moseley can I get a cup of tea please?"
"I can arrange that, I would like one myself," came a female voice behind him.
Matthew opened his eyes reluctantly and straightened himself up a bit. "Oh, hello, Mother. Sorry about that."
"No need to apologize. I had already asked Moseley to make some tea just before you came home," she said sitting down in an arm chair across from her son. "You were gone a long time. And most of it NOT spent at the big house," Isobel said in her matter-of-fact tone that belied a sense of worry.
"How did you know?" Matthew responded wearily.
"Cousin Robert called here a few hours ago wishing to speak to you. He seemed concerned," she said, eyeing her son, looking for some hint of what was wrong.
Matthew sat up straighter. "Does he want to see me? Is everyone all right?"
"He said you do not need to talk this evening. He could see you tomorrow," Isobel said.
"Oh, good, actually," her son sounded relief.
Isobel was a perceptive woman and one not to sit idly by when trouble was afoot, especially when that trouble directly affected her son.
"Matthew, my dear, what is the matter? Is it the money troubles?" she said.
Sighing, Matthew wanted nothing better right now than to not talk about this, but he also knew his mother well enough to realize she was not going to let his mood go untouched this evening. He knew she would persist on getting to the bottom of it and truthfully, there was a small part of him wanting to talk over all of this with someone.
Choosing the direct approach - which was always best with his mother anyway - Matthew came right out and told her of his decision to not accept the Swire inheritance.
"Oh, I see," Isobel responded. "And does Mary know this?"
Running his hands through his hair, he said, "Yes. Mother. She does. And she is very upset with me."
He stood up then, and walked over to the unlit fireplace. Leaning his elbow on the mantle, he said, "Mother, I cannot get her to understand that accepting the inheritance would be morally wrong. at least for me. I did not marry Lavinia and more than that I broke her heart." At that, Matthew felt a catch in his breath, but continue. "She died giving up on life because she knew of my feelings for Mary and our relationship. I betrayed her and her father and, therefore, I cannot take that money."
Isobel felt frustrations of her own now setting in. She loved her dear son very much and was very proud of the young man he had become, but sometimes she felt his misguided feelings of honor caused him and others more harm than good. This was one of those times.
"Did you share all of this with Mary?" she inquired, remaining seated, eyes never off her son.
Staring now straight ahead as if watching his earlier scene with Mary replaying before him, Matthew replied, "Yes, I did Mother and she disagreed, strongly. She told me quite clearly that I was chasing some ghost." Then, turning to face his mother, his face pale and full of sadness, "She said I was a disappointment."
Isobel heard the words from her son's lips and could tell how much they hurt him to utter. Just as she was to stand up and go to Matthew, Mosely arrived with the tea. "Thank you Moseley, we would like not to be disturb for awhile, please," she said, turning on her authoritative voice.
He nodded and closed the door behind him.
"Sit down, dear, please," Isobel motioned to Matthew to return to his former place on the sofa as she poured the tea.
Spent and feeling a headache coming on, he followed his mother's direction.
After talking a sip of tea, and letting it warm her throat, Isobel spoke. "I know Mary's words must have wounded you but I am sure she only means your decision disappoints her. She really doesn't mean that you yourself are a disappointment to her. "
Matthew began to respond, "Mother, you didn't see the look on her face. She … "
But his mother broke in, and in a soothing, but firm voice, said, "Matthew just let me talk for a bit now and listen to what I have to say. Please."
Reluctantly, he sat back and nodded in agreement. "Fine."
"Mary loves you very much, Matthew. Anyone who spends only a few minutes around the two of you can see that. And yes, Lavinia was aware of the feelings you two have for one another," Isobel said, plainly, knowing she was trending on sensitive ground here. The tense look on her son's face, his eyes getting that intensity to them she knew so well.
"Lavinia did know, and yes, when she came to accept that reality then I assume she felt heartbroken. But Matthew, that is not why she died. She died from the flu," Isobel's voicing taking on a higher pitch now, something that happened when she felt frustration. And this whole topic of Lavinia's death did exasperate her. Putting her tea cup back on the tray with a bit more force than she intended, Isobel went forward. "You men all think that we women are so fragile, that we fall apart and cannot live after a broken romance. Well, yes, we grieve and have heartbreaks, but we don't die from that. We go on living and Lavinia would have done the same thing had she not contracted that terrible flu."
Matthew feeling a bit insulted, pushed his rising anger down. He was going to let his mother have her say, as much as it was displeasing him.
"Lavinia would have gotten over you, Matthew. She would have gone back to London and met someone and fell in love. She would have married and built a life there, which in all honesty, would have been a better fit for her and everyone," Isobel said, setting aside her devotion to her son and needing to maintain an impartial view.
"Why Mother, you sound as if I wasn't good enough for her," Matthew's volume rising some as his ego took a hit from his own mother. He was very defensive on all fronts now.
"Matthew, that is not what I meant," she said with a reassuring tone. "What I am saying is you know that Lavinia was always uneasy with the thought of being the lady of the manor and even living in the country. " Matthew knew this to be true. "Yes, I know."
Pouring another cup of tea for them both, Isobel took her argument even further, saying, "Lavinia was a dear, sweet girl, but I fear that she would have always been just that." Now, really perplexed, Matthew, frowning, said, "You make that sound like a bad thing, Mother. "
"No, she had fine qualities but she would likely always look at the world with that sense of feminine innocence and looking for you to lead all the time. And, my dear boy, you and I both know that is not what you would have wanted or needed, " Isobel explained.
Taking another sip of tea, the middle-aged mother, known for her plain-speaking decided to lay it all out now. "Lavinia looked at you with the love of an innocent girl found in Victorian romances. You were her hero in uniform. Mary, on the other hand, looks at you with the eyes of a young woman deeply in love. She loves you and accepts you as you, flaws and all because she knows you do the same for her. Matthew, you need a strong woman who would be your true partner, share all of life's ups and downs along side you. You need someone who believes in you whilst still having her own ideas."
She paused again and came over to sit next to her son on the sofa. Taking his hands into her own as she used to when he was a boy, Isobel looked at her son with tears shining in her eyes. "Matthew, you and Mary need each other. She remained devoted to you throughout the war, during your injuries and afterwards. She sacrificed her own happiness, to make sure you were happy. "
Isobel saw her son's face softening, and could see his eyes beginning to get that sparkle back. She knew she was getting through to him and making him see.
Still holding onto her son's hands, Isobel had one final point to make. She said tenderly, "Mary has stood by Anna and Mr. Bates because they are family to her. Mary once agreed to a loveless marriage with a cruel man to protect her family. And now, when her family is in trouble again, she is going to fight to save it and make sure they have a future. You are the center now of her family and her future. She just wants you to fight for that. You refusing the money and evoking this misguided guilt over Lavinia, well, I'm guessing Mary sees that as you not believing in her or your future together."
Matthew removed his hands from his mother's but the mother and son remained next to each other sitting in silence. Isobel hoped that her words were sinking in with Matthew, as difficult as it was to say some of of those thing to him. She just wanted him to be happy and she knew that his happiness lay in a life with Mary. She came to really respect and care for the young woman who held her son's heart and was looking forward to having her as a daughter. Isobel reflected for a moment, as she thought about her own true love, her late husband. A sentimental smile gracing her face as she thought how much Matthew and Mary reminded her of themselves.
Finally, Matthew broke the silence. "Thank you, Mother. I mean it," he said a tender smile on his face. Then he leaned in and kissed his mother on the forehead. Surprised by this show of affection, Isobel reached over and hugged her son before standing and saying, "I think I will let Moseley and Mrs. Bird know we will be eating a bit later tonight. You have some business to take care of."
Matthew stood then, smiling, and feeling more at ease than he had in days. He left the drawing room, grabbed his coat and left Crawley House, with one purpose in mind. He hoped Mary would see him once he got to Downton and it wasn't too late. This time he would gladly make the walk.
Chapter 8
Mary felt her eyes burning by now, after shedding so many tears off and on for more than an hour. After she left Matthew at the house, their angry words still ringing in her ears, Mary hurriedly grabbed her coat and hat and dashed down the steps and out onto the grounds of Downton. Granny would frown upon her exit as not very ladylike but at this moment Mary could not care less if some of her dignity was swept aside in her need to be alone.
She held back tears until she was at least out of hearing distance from the great house, but once she felt herself a safe distance she let her guard down completely. Sobbing she grabbed her handkerchief and just kept walking. She walked for a while until she felt herself shaking, felt the ground beneath her was going to swallow her up, he legs weak. She sat herself down on a bench and it was not until a few moments had passed that she realized it was that bench, their bench. The one where it all really started for Matthew and Mary.
This is where they each first began letting down their guards and allowed themselves to acknowledge the feelings and attractions that had been there since the very first meeting. Their first real talk was on this bench and it became a central part of their relationship over the years. And since their engagement at Christmas they found this bench to be their refuge when they needed a break from wedding planning discussions or just a need for some privacy and chance to be intimate away from the big house.
On this afternoon, her tears and sadness blurred that sense of security she normally felt here. Today, nothing seemed secure about her future, not financially and not romantically. Her family's financial mess left her feeling uneasy and unsure but she felt she could get through all of that with Matthew by her side. Her dear, sweet, smart Matthew would always be there to support her and give her the love she longed for. He was not only her lover but her best friend, the one person who knew her better than anyone. Even when they were engaged to other people they had a special bond that no one else could understand or break.
Or so she always thought, until today. Now, Matthew seems different. His decision to not accept the Swire fortune felt like a betrayal and it shed doubt on their relationship. Mary felt for the first time since that fateful August day when the war broke out an uncertainty surrounding Matthew. Maybe he really was not on their side, she thought, sniffing in tears. Maybe he really does think I am not as good as Lavinia and I and my family don't deserve to be saved. He has been and always will be my first and only real choice and yet, I sit here feeling like I am second best for him. "Oh God, maybe I have been foolish to think he could love me as I love him. He is the only man who can make my heartbreak," she said to no one but herself. "I am not worth it in his eyes."
Staring straight ahead and lost in her own thoughts and misery, she did not hear the footsteps that were approaching from behind. Her words made Matthew wince. How I have wounded her, he thought. Tears beginning to form in his own eyes. Hesitant, now to approach her - would she reject him, ask him to leave? - Matthew took a deep breath before softly speaking.
"'Mary," was all he said.
She heard his voice but could not turn around. She was not prepared to see him now, especially looking the mess that she was sure she must be.
He tried reaching out once more. "Mary, please. May I sit down?"
Mary sighed. "Fine."
Matthew approached cautiously, taking pains as to not look at her directly yet or touch her, not matter how much he wanted to. Instead, he sat next to her and stared out straight ahead as she was.
After a few moments, Mary broke the silence. "How much did you hear?" She felt mortified knowing he heard her pleas and deepest insecurities.
"I heard enough to feel awful about how I have treated you," Matthew replied, now turning to look at his beautiful bride-to-be. Even with red-rimmed eyes and a red nose she was stunning to him.
"I am not angry with anymore with you Matthew, truly I'm not," she replied, still not meeting his gaze. "I am more disappointed in myself. My arrogance."
Now really confused, Matthew leaned in closer and touched her shoulder, "Mary, what do you mean?"
Feeling his warm hand on her shoulder, she turned to him. "I was foolish to think that a man like you could overlook my transgressions. You are a good man Matthew, a man of principle. A brave man. And my actions over the years must seem selfish and self-serving. Not made out of honor but of position and pride."
He was beginning now to put her earlier overheard comments into context now, and Matthew didn't like where this conversation was going. "No, Mary don't do this."
"Why not? It is true," Mary continued. "Your refusal to accept Mr. Swire's money shows where your sense of duty lies - being true to Lavinia's memory. She was a good person, a better person than myself and more worthy of your sense of honor …."
"Mary, please stop. I won't let you talk about yourself this way" Matthew's hold on her more forceful now. Grabbing onto both shoulders he turned Mary around to face him. "You are the woman I love, the only woman I want to be with ever. I am the one who needs to apologize for my selfishness, not you."
Shaking his head, he then looked into her eyes. "Mary, you are not second best to anyone. My guilt is not over hurting a woman who is better than you. but for hurting both of you. I betrayed you as much as I did Lavinia. "
Mary, tears forming again in her eyes, searched his face. "Matthew, how did you betray me? You were not mine to betray?"
"No? You always had my heart, Mary. I walked away from you without giving respect to your feelings. I left you over my pride. So, to save my ego, I let myself get engaged to the first young, pretty girl that gave me attention," Matthew said, a reminiscent, regretful smile creeping onto his face. He grabbed onto Mary's hands now, rubbing his thumbs gently over her wrists. "I kept telling myself I was over you. You didn't want me, so I thought I will be with someone who does. But, once I came back the night of the concert I saw your brave, beautiful face. I knew you were hiding something. Then that morning at the train station, when you came to say goodbye, I knew then I was still in love with you and I had made a mistake with a hasty engagement."
Mary let a small smile begin to creep onto her face. "I thought I would never see you again. I thought you would die some horrible death in battle."
"I thought I might, too. And you were the strong one, You were the one to come to the station to see me off. I carried your face and kiss with me always." he smiled, letting some tears fill his eyes now.
"The point is Mary, I cannot change my past actions. I should have been stronger and braver and fought to get you back earlier, but here we are now. And you are my present and my future. I want that future to be solid and something we can build together, so I will accept Swire's money," Matthew said, his stomach all full of nerves. He waited for her response, seconds seeming like an hour.
Finally, Mary responded. "Matthew, I am sorry I put you in that position, I don't want you to go against your principles … I "
Mary was cut short by Matthew's lips on hers, kissing her tenderly and seeking forgiveness at the same time. Surprised at first, she became a willing partner in the kiss and held on to his jacket lapels. When they broke apart, Matthew said, " I don't want to talk about this money business anymore, My mind is made up. Now," he added, looking like a teenager on a first date, "I would be so terribly proud to be your husband if you will still have me."
Brushing his blond locks off his forehead with her gloved hand, Mary gently laughed. "Of course. And thank you."
They kissed deeply one more time, before Matthew's stomach growling pulled them from their passion. Sheepishly, he smiled against her lips, and Mary laughed. "We must get you in for some dinner soon I expect."
"Sorry I have not eaten since breakfast," he said.
"Well the sun is getting low now, we might make it back in time for dinner but I am not sure we will have time to dress," Mary said.
"Probably not," Matthew said, standing up and stretching his back. "But… " a smirk coming across his face. "I might know a quaint place that would take us as we are."
Matthew offered out his hands to help Mary up. "Really," she answered, raising an eyebrow. "Where is that now, pray?"
"Well, Lady Mary, if you will, I can accompany you to a cozy place called Crawley House. Simple food and good company." he said taking her arm around his.
"I have never dined there but I have heard wonderful things about the proprietor," she smiled.
Chapter 9
Isobel looked at the clock as it approached 7 p.m. She was about to tell Mrs. Bird to go ahead and serve, not waiting for Matthew, when she heard voices outside the door. Young voices, laughing. She could not help herself and peaked out a curtain from the sitting room and she smiled when she saw her son and Mary apparently happy and healed.
When they walked through the front door, Mosely greeted them. 'Sir, m'lady, let me take your coats."
"Thank you Mosely," Mary said courteously.
"Yes, thanks Mosely," Matthew added, almost absently. "Is Mother around?"
:Oh yes she was in the sitting room, waiting for your return to serve dinner," Mosely replied, hanging up coats.
"Matthew, are you home?" Isobel asked innocently, as she walked toward the entry way. "Oh, hello, my dear. We have company I see."
"I am so sorry Cousin Isobel. I should not have come unannounced but your son, said it would be all right to join you for dinner. I do apologize…" Mary said warmly.
"Oh do not apologize," Isobel replied smiling. "I am glad to have you. Matthew should have you come around more so we can spend some time before the wedding. "
The young couple exchanged knowing glances and then Matthew escorted Mary into the dining room.
The women were barely seated when Matthew stopped in his tracks. "Oh my, we should call the big house, so they know where you are. I am sure they are worried."
"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. Would you be a dear and call?" Mary said, forgetting she was using an endearment in the presence of her soon-to-be mother-in-law.
"Of course," Matthew smiled and walked to the hall.
When he rang up, Carson answered.
'Oh hello Carson. It's Matthew Crawley here," Matthew said.
"Yes, hello Mr. Crawley. What can I do for you?"
"Can you please let Lord Grantham know that Lady Mary is dining at Crawley House with Mother and myself this evening. We didn't want to worry anyone. We do apologize but Lady Mary was out walking and lost track of time. We will call when we need the car sent around," Matthew said, with a sense of authority. He liked being the one to take charge of the care of Mary.
"Thank you for letting us know, We were getting rather concerned when she didn't come down dressed for dinner. I will most certainly let his Lordship know." Carson said, appreciating Matthew's thoroughness.
"Thank you, Carson. And we apologize for any worry she, we, caused, " Matthew said as he hung up the receiver.
"She has chosen well, Lady Mary has. She has chosen very well indeed," Carson said, smiling to himself as he walked to deliver the message to his Lordship and the others.