I have only been introduced to Downton Abbey relatively recently, but it took me about 2 episodes to become absolutely addicted to it. Seriously. It's a bit of a problem...
All of the characters are amazing, but I have to say that the Mary/Matthew pair is my favorite. Mary keeps so much hidden, or tries to, and I always find myself wondering what's going on in that head of hers. This is my interpretation, such as it is.
Stupid Boy
She hated him. She had hated him since before she even met him, and he had thus far done absolutely nothing to change her opinion. Of all the outsiders to come in and rob her of Downton Abbey and her inheritance, it had to be Matthew Crawley: an arrogant middle-class lawyer who snubbed his nose at their very way of life while scarcely knowing how to hold a fork properly.
And the first time they had met—hah! Talking of bad first impressions. It was as though the man had never set eyes on a lady before. He had been all bluster and ire before she'd entered, with his "I will choose my own wife" this and "they'll not change me" that.
Oh yes, he thought he was something if his words were to be believed, but he hadn't had much to say once she'd walked in, had he? There he'd stood, slack-jawed, mouth gaping open stupidly and his unseemly blue eyes ogling at her as though she'd entered in her dressing gown.
His chasing after her and awkwardly stammering an apology hadn't impressed her in the slightest, either.
As if she hadn't seen enough of the man for one day, in he comes at dinner looking for all the world like he owned the place in his perfectly fitted tails and waistcoat—purchased that very day by Papa, no doubt. Fortunately, he had but to open his mouth to make it quite clear that he did not belong among their type of people. With all his talk of jobs and weekends and welcoming committees, it was obvious that Matthew Crawley would never be a suitable earl.
And yet they had invited him back! This time, God in heaven, they hoped to convince her to marry him. Marry him! Well, that would be the day. She was determined to let them all know what she thought of that idea, perhaps with the added benefit of letting his idiocy finally knock some sense into Papa. Perhaps then he'd finally be willing to fight against the entail.
Hence the Andromeda conversation.
"I don't know," he had said, darting those damned, arrogant, horridly blue eyes in her direction and holding her stare in obvious challenge.
(How had she not noticed before the piercing cleverness in that gaze? She should have; it would have kept her from underestimating him so.)
"I'd have to know more about the princess and sea monster in question."
How infuriating he was! With his biting words and defiant stare, as though he were putting her in her place.
Not bloody likely. She'd work as a housemaid before she'd let Downton Abbey go to the likes of Matthew Crawley, and she'd run naked in the streets of London before she'd marry him. How dare he challenge her? She was Lady Mary Crawley, daughter of the Earl of Grantham, future Countess of Grantham. And who was he? A lawyer who just so happened to be distantly related to Papa.
No, this stupid little country solicitor would not take Downton from her. She would make certain of that.