August, 1916
"We're so happy for you darling." Cora pressed her youngest daughter's cheek, "You've made us very proud."
"Thank you mama."
"Matthew," Cora kissed him next, "Welcome to the family again."
"Thank you, Mama." He offered a smile to her, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, clearly thinking of his own mother who couldn't be there. Robert bent, kissing Sybil gently.
"I'm very proud of you dear," he said, then leaned lower to whisper in her ear, squeezing her arm "Well done, my girl."
"Thank you papa." He pressed her cheek as well, before grasping Matthew's hand, giving it a firm shake.
"Sir."
"My son." Robert said, and Matthew smiled at this, embracing him. He had always assumed he would become Lord Grantham's son-in-law. Just not this way. Not married to Sybil. Not that she was awful. Just not the one he truly loved. That was what duty was though, wasn't it?
Chapter One
May, Months Earlier
The war was far from over, but Matthew was sent home, having lost his left arm in battle. The surgeon who had removed it had done a neat enough job, removing the infected limb, severing it just below the elbow. Once he was well enough to travel, Lord Grantham was sent word and met him at the station. Matthew had almost expected, rather hoped, that Mary would be there as well. Instead, it was Sybil at her father's side, waiting in the car at her father's orders as the station was packed with soldiers and nurses and families, Robert could barely get through. Once Matthew was deposited in the car, Lord Grantham returned to the packed station to find the luggage.
"We couldn't let you come home alone." She said
"Who drove?" Matthew asked, "Branson is away too isn't he?"
"I drove."
"You?" she nodded
"It isn't very hard, I learned just after the war broke out and I started volunteering as a nurse. They needed people to drive ambulances from London to hospitals, so as soon as I could, I started driving. It just takes getting used to. We thought the car would be an easier ride for you than the carriage."
"It will be thank you." Matthew said. He paused, feeling an awkward silence settle between them.
"Mary is in Italy." Sybil said at last, saving him from having to ask what weighed so heavily on his mind. "She went away a year or so ago. We did send her a telegram when you wrote to us, but we haven't received any word from her."
"Is…is she working there?" Matthew asked. Sybil looked at him, eyes tired and weary already from the subject of Mary.
"No."
"Oh." He said, the word feeling hollow, and not at all the meaningful phrase he wanted to say to give some comfort to Sybil. "Well…I didn't expect-"
"I would have." Sybil interrupted. "It's wretched of her to avoid us all like this. It's even more dreadful that it's got nothing to do with the effort."
"You mustn't say that about your sister." He cautioned, unused to the youngest Crawley speaking harshly. He could tolerate it from Mary and Edith, but not her.
"It's true." She said. "She's behaved abominably ever since that Turkish man died. Edith at least is away and married, so she doesn't see how upset Mama is."
"Your mother, yes, how is she?"
"Tired." Sybil replied, "She has been visiting the factories in Downton, sometimes those in London too, and helping organize all the scrap metal drives she can muster. Papa had to keep her from tearing apart the cars. We only use the one if people are coming to the house, which are always few and far between nowadays."
"Have you heard any news about William?" he asked, "I haven't had a letter or a telegram from anybody, and I mentioned him to anyone I could. All they told me was that he might be in another hospital." He and William were together up until Verdun. They'd been separated on the field, and were taken to different hospitals. That was the extent of what anyone seemed to know of the young footman. "I tried to tell them it was important." Matthew said, obviously blaming himself for losing the young man.
"You mustn't feel guilty." Sybil said, "I can only imagine how confusing it must be on the front, how you ever keep anything straight must be all but impossible. Besides, William is clever, I'm sure he's doing well. Papa expects word any day."
"You have heard from him?" relief shone in his eyes, a smile creeping upon his face.
"Oh yes, the doctor that worked on him read his tags, and sent us a letter. He isn't well enough to leave yet."
"Where is he?"
"France, somewhere." She said, "Not far from where the fighting is." Matthew nodded, he leaned back, relief sinking in before he became lost in thought. "Matthew?" he didn't seem to respond for a moment. "Matthew," he looked up suddenly "Are you alright?"
"Fine." He said, offering a smile. "Tired."
"Here it is at last," Robert called, Sybil made to step out of the car to help, "Never mind Sybil, the porter can help me. It's too heavy anyway." Robert said as he bolstered the drunk up onto the back of the car, strapping it down while Sybil climbed back into the driver's seat. She glanced up at Matthew in the rearview mirror, his eyes tired and rimmed in dark circles. By the time they pulled up to the front gate, he was sound asleep.
The servants had lined up for the return of the Downton Heir, though it was a far cry from what the staff used to look like. Of the men's staff, Carson and Bates remained, Bates because of his previous injury, Carson too old to be drafted. The same was true of the groundskeepers. Six of the fifteen maids had handed in their notices to work as nurses. Mrs. Hughes was told to remind each that their old post at Downton would be waiting for them when the war was over. Everyone looked tired, though as the car pulled up and the Crawley's stepped down, everyone seemed to brighten a little. A guest would mean some kind of distraction. Matthew would stay at Downton, as Crawley House was being used as a hospital.
Also waiting at the door to welcome him home was Sir Anthony and Edith Strallen, the Dowager Countess and Aunt Cora. Robert's dog Pharaoh came out, the only one seemingly untouched by the world's events. He barked until Sybil shut the engine off, the brake in place. Matthew had just stepped down, Cora already embracing him,
"Welcome home Matthew," she said, pressing a motherly kiss to his cheek, "It's so good to see you again." She held him at arm's length to look him over,
"Thank you," he said, and meant it. Edith stepped forward next, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and squeezing his good arm,
"We're so glad you're safe."
"Don't worry," he said, seeing her eyes glanced over his half-empty sleeve "I'm still all in one piece, mostly." He joked, grasping Sir Anthony's hand,
"Welcome home." Was all he said, though he looked as if he wanted to say more, but wasn't sure how to put it to someone he barely knew. Respect still shone in his eyes though, and everyone could see the old man looked proud of him. The Dowager Countess stood grandly on the steps in dark purple, a colour she had taken to wearing ever since word came that Matthew was badly wounded. "We don't know if he's dead or not, horrible as that sounds. It's appropriate to prepare ourselves." Was her reason.
"It is good to see you safe." was all she said and gave her cheek for him to kiss. Matthew smiled then and did so, hugging her a little in the process. He turned to the line of servants, smiling and nodding to them.
"It's good to see you again Carson, Mrs. Hughes, you look well, and Bates-" he did a double take at the woman beside the valet "Why Anna, you look very fine indeed!" he noticed now the young woman's protruding belly now six months along, Bates smiled at his wife. Matthew turned accusingly to Robert and Cora "Why did no one tell me?"
"We wanted it to be a surprise." Sybil said, tugging off her driving gloves
"It's a good one," Matthew said, "Congratulations to you both, really, I'm very happy for you." And he shook Bates hand,
"Thank you sir."
"Now I think we'd better go in," Cora said, "Mrs. Patmore promised that today's luncheon would be 'fit for a king'."
"And I'm famished." Matthew declared, "I intend to hold her to her words." So the group filed in, all merry over Matthew's safe return.
That Afternoon
"Why didn't Mary write to me after?" Sybil was halfway down the path to the garden when she heard Matthew speak; he'd heard her footfalls on the walk, just as she was passing him.
"I…thought that was between the two of you." She said, taken aback that he asked so bluntly. "I didn't think it right to ask. It wasn't my place." He looked over at her.
"She wrote to me once." He shrugged. "Telling me in her usual manner 'Oh Matthew, you know it would never work out between us. I must always have my way you know.'" Sybil looked uncomfortable. He looked up at her "Why does she lie to herself? Can't she read her own heart? Is it so incomprehensible for her to realize when she is happy unless she does something impossibly stupid?" Sybil shrugged then
"Mary has had much to contend with. I suppose her feelings frightened her."
"And now I suppose I must become the heir to Downton Abbey." Sybil shifted uncomfortably.
"I thought you were." He gave a small laugh, remembering no one else had known but Mary.
"I had told Mary I was leaving Downton- that I would refuse to be the heir, I didn't want it."
"But you can't leave!" Sybil gasped, very much the reaction he expected. "You must stay here! It would break Papa to see it gone!" he sobered,
"Yes…it would. My duty to your father is as strong as my duty to my country. That I couldn't fulfill properly, but damn it this I should."
"You mustn't think that you failed at anything." Sybil sat beside him. "We're all immensely proud of you, and terribly glad you've come home safe." Her hand on his arm, he noticed a ring glittering on her first finger.
"What's that?" he asked, she pulled her hand away, but he caught her fingers, looking at the shining band glittering in the sunlight.
"It was from Branson." She said quietly, "Before he left." bowing her head, she took her hand back and turned the ring over and over.
"He proposed?" he asked, almost smiling, "You're going through with it?"
"There has been no proposal." She said simply, "He's left the army, for Ireland."
"What?"
"He heard of the things going on, the things being said. He wrote to me when he sent me this ring. It was his mother's; he told me he had to be there for Easter, and that he knew he wouldn't see me again." Sybil cried a little "He said he loved me, but he couldn't leave his countrymen behind." She wiped her eyes "What about our countrymen? I asked him, 'What about Matthew and my father and William, and everyone who is fighting to end this stupid-" she stopped short, sighing angrily. Upset that she'd made herself appear so foolish.
"You do love him." Matthew said, she nodded
"I do." She looked over at him "And you love Mary."
"Yes." They were silent. It occurred to Matthew the last time he was underneath this tree; it was the day the war broke out, and it was Mary beside him, unable to make a decision about her life. "Nothing is fair." He said at last. Sybil finally broke her gaze from the middle distance.
"If anything has taught us that, it's been this war." She sighed "But I refuse to feel tragic about everything. I'm not Mary." Standing up, she brushed her tears aside. "I'm going to the garden to help Mrs. Patmore, would you like to come?" he considered this for a moment, a little amazed at her determination not to mope about as many women might have done.
"Yes I will." He said, and got up, following her down the path, through the hedges to where Mrs. Patmore, Daisy and Bates were carefully tending the garden. Bates was painting a sign, seeing Sybil and Matthew; he rose quickly, nodding to them
"Sir, Lady Sybil."
"How is it coming?" she asked,
"Very well your ladyship." Mrs. Patmore said, "Mr. Bates is just putting up a little artwork." Matthew looked over the valet's shoulder to see him putting the finishing touches on the sign
"Downton Abbey Victory Garden." He read aloud "Very nicely done Mr. Bates, did you stencil the letters?"
"Seemed the neatest way, mustn't be shirking in upholding the grandeur of the estate." He stood with a wince, soothing his bad leg with his free hand
"Shall I help put it up?" Matthew asked and the two of them set off to find a good spot.
They spent the day in the garden, working the soil, weeding out the beds. Sybil taught him how to thin the rows of carrots, and how to ever so gently nudge the radishes away from each other. As they worked, Matthew realized how easily everything seemed to drift away. In that peaceful afternoon, he almost forgot that Mary had not even bothered to see if her cousin was still alive. He found himself laughing between Mr. Bates and Mrs. Patmore, who had become inseparable while he was away, the valet often helped in the kitchen when he wasn't busy in his duties to Lord Grantham. The cook boasted of how he helped make stock every morning, prepare vegetables with her, or help with the evening dishes. According to Sybil, Mrs. Patmore was so excited with the prospect of a baby below stairs, took every opportunity to feed Anna, and praise Mr. Bates until the tips of his ears turned pink. Daisy, thought quiet and shy around Matthew, soon joined in the conversation, her cheeks rosy as she proclaimed that the Bates' baby would be the fattest, prettiest baby Downton ever saw.
"Excepting the ladies upstairs." She squeaked, suddenly aware she'd put a servants baby above the Earl's children.
"Never fear." Bates said. "She'll be beautiful alright."
"How do you know it's a girl?" Daisy asked.
"It will be." Bates said, with a knowing smile. Whatever the child turned out to be, he would be pleased either way. It was clear Sybil had spent much time with the servants, though they still addressed her as 'Lady Sybil', there was a warm familiarity between all of them, in the way they worked and talked. The afternoon drifted by, and Matthew was finding himself oddly pleased.
When at last Mrs. Patmore brushed her hands on her apron, declaring the work 'done enough' and that dinner had to be started; Matthew and Sybil gathered their things and started for the house.
"Thank you." He said,
"For what?"
"For letting me talk, for letting me help." He shrugged. "It's been too long since I've had such a peaceful day."
"It must have been so frightening in the trenches." She murmured, "I can't imagine."
"No." he said "And you mustn't either." She opened her mouth, but he stopped her, already knowing what she was about to say "I know you aren't like most ladies…fainting at the sight of blood and all that…but believe me when I say that you must not think of it. It's not something anyone should."
"I won't." she promised.
~O~
The next morning when Matthew went down to breakfast, he was surprised to see Sybil was already gone.
"Sybil? Oh yes, she was called away early this morning, heard her leave around- what was it Carson?"
"Five m'lord, before staff was even up." He seemed disgruntled that any of the family should need to be up before staff, especially since it meant Lady Sybil had to dress herself, and then leave without breakfast.
"Something at the hospital no doubt." Robert said, already finishing his first cup of tea. Matthew forgot she'd been working as a nurse since the war first started. She'd written to him, work was slow for a long time, until war came closer and closer to London, and hospitals started overflowing. Wounded poured into almost every neighboring village that could properly house them.
"How does she do?" Matthew asked
"Very well. Hard work is nothing to her. She's fortunate she doesn't turn at the sight of blood."
"What about Edith? Doesn't she work there?"
"No, she's campaigning, helping sell war bonds. Better stomach for sales than the surgeon's room." He said, and Matthew smiled a little. "If you like, Cora is going to make her rounds at the hospital later today, I'm sure she wouldn't mind the company."
"Thank you, I think I will."
He took a walk around the grounds, when he noticed Robert close behind. He stopped, letting him catch up.
"Wanted to see how you were, you're not tired are you?"
"I think I always will be." Matthew said with a shrug. He was looking around the grounds. "I'm unused to seeing so much untouched greenery."
"Take it in while you can. I'm demanding the hospital send its victims here, Downton is big enough, the men in the hospital are overflowing; in a day or so they'll be brought here once we have all the beds put up. Here they can get proper sun and fresh air, recuperate in comfort."
"Certainly thanks to Mrs. Patmore, have a proper meal." Matthew said, "Why haven't they used Downton Abbey before?"
"They did at the start, and then there was a lull. But this latest skirmish is lasting longer than anyone anticipated and more and more men are filling up hospitals and homes. Downton has been empty for long enough. It's my duty and right to help those boys, and I'll see that they get it." They stood underneath the willows, looking over the house, the seemingly endless manicured lawns and well-trimmed hedges. It was true; those sent here to mend would certainly have an easier time of it.
Later- afternoon
Cora and Matthew visited the two large factories that Downton housed; she seemed impervious to the dust and dirt, the noise and endless machinery didn't seem to bore her. She looked on in some fascination, eager to see how much progress had gone on since she had last visited.
"How often do you make your rounds?" Matthew asked above the din, a man held open the door to him, tipping his hat to Matthew. Honorably discharged from the army, it was still his patriotic duty to wear his uniform until the war was over.
"Two or three times a week if I can manage." She said, tugging on her gloves. She didn't wear a fur stole or lace nonsense. Her suit was of sturdy wool, cut in the latest fashion, they called it a hobble skirt, but it didn't seem to impede her determined stride. Elegant even in grey, Lady Grantham held her head high, asked questions and shook hands with the foremen and workers who answered them for her. She had been there enough to know many of the workers by name, and some of their families. She took care to ask after each man's son who was fighting, or how their daughters were getting on. If someone had recently lost family, she made a note to send letters, and see about finding them groceries for the week. "It isn't much," she said to Matthew in a low voice as they stepped out of the factory into the sun, "but if it eases one thing off their minds, then I'm glad to do it, I know Robert would like to do more, but everyone is struggling now." He touched her elbow, a little surprised "Oh good heavens no, nothing like that Matthew." She shook her head, "We're not in dire straits, we won't be for a long time yet, it's just that everything costs dearly. I don't remember the last time we had beef. Sybil suggested buying cows, I scoffed at first, but now I think it isn't such a bad suggestion."
"One of my clients raises cattle; he might be able to sell you a few."
"I'll talk to Robert about it later." She said,
"Where next?"
"Hospital." She checked her fob watch. "It's half-past two, she'll be having her tea I hope."
The doors swung open, and the acrid-sterile air seemed to slap him in the face. He reached for the wall, steadying himself. Sudden memories flooded him, of waking up in the strange hospital, the stink of putrid flesh and around him, men grunting in pain. Cora stopped, seeing him,
"Are you alright?" she asked, "Should we go?"
"No, no, thank you. I'm fine." He straightened, removing his hat; he followed her to the secretary who occupied the desk in the corner.
"Lady Grantham." The nurse greeted them, "The doctor is busy at the moment, he-"
"That's quite all right." She was tugging off her gloves "I understand a good deal of wounded came in a day ago."
"Yes my lady, almost a hundred-"
"What?" she was clearly shocked
"Yes my lady, twice as many as last time." Cora nodded, thinking. The double doors leading to the hospital beds opened, Sybil and Doctor Clarkson came hurrying to them, both wearing masks.
"My apologies Lady Grantham," he tugged at his mask "but I am afraid I must ask that you not stay too long, I would advise against staying at all."
"Oh dear, may I ask why?" the doctor glanced from Sybil to her mother again. Sybil bowed her head, nodding slightly.
"It seems there is an infection spreading among the men." Cora gripped her gloves, "It is typhus, and we are hoping to avoid a complete outbreak."