February, 13th 1921.
It was late in the evening when Matthew finally joined the room he stared with Mary. After opening softly the door, he slipped into the bedroom, trying to avoid any noise that could disturb his wife's sleep. But this was useless: a quick glance at the bed showed him his spouse sat on the bed, eyes wide open.
"You're late," Mary said, but the sly grin that formed on her lips betrayed her, and the words she wanted to sound reproachful only seemed soft and loving. She couldn't help it, her husband had a mysterious power over her, and seeing him was enough for her heart to warm and melt.
"Forgive me, my Darling. I had an important business waiting for me before going to bed," he quickly answered while joining his wife under the comfortable bed's sheets.
"What kind of business was it to keep me waiting for almost thirty minutes?" she insisted, staring at Matthew. He couldn't hide something from her for a very long time.
"This is something you won't discover until tomorrow," he smiled, before kissing Mary's forehead and lying on the bed, trying to get some sleep for the next day, where he and Tom would visit a few farms of the estate in order to have a serious conversation with the owners.
At first, Mary frowned, she clearly didn't understand the meaning of Matthew's answer. But when she did, she sighed.
"If you think about Valentine's Day, you know this day doesn't mean anything to me," she said, looking annoyed.
"This is a tradition, my Darling," Matthew gently replied, before smiling to his wife.
"Well, this is a stupid tradition," Mary immediately answered. "I don't see why we should love each other more on February the Fourteenth than we do the rest of the year."
"How romantic you are," Matthew said with a smile. Mary's pragmatism was something he was used to, she wouldn't be herself without it, and he would probably not love her as much as he does if she was like all the other women.
Mary was about to protest, but when she saw Matthew's eyes closed, she silently turned off the light and softly kissed her husband's cheek.
"Even if you're obviously wrong, I still love you," she whispered into his ear, before lying next to him, her right arm on his chest. She didn't hear him chuckle, and they both fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Mary awoke alone in the room. Matthew left early with Tom, and he wouldn't be back until dinner. As she rang for breakfast, she saw an envelope on the bedside table. She smiled at Matthew's attention, and opened it.
As expected, the card was beautiful: it was a representation of Cupid holding his famous bow and a heart, on which was simply written the date. The fine writing on the back of the card immediately caught Mary's eye.
To my dearest Mary,
I wish you a lovely Valentine's Day. I sat here in the library for a very long time, trying to find the rights words to express my feelings towards the most wonderful woman I have ever met but, believe me or not, I couldn't.
Here are the poor words I've finally chosen: I love you, truly, deeply, and more than my heart can hold. Please, be my Valentine and do me the extreme honour to accompany me to the Savoy tonight, where I hope we will share the best diner we ever had.
I remain, to my greatest pleasure, truly yours,
Matthew.
When Anna, the maid, entered in the Crawleys bedroom, carrying a heavy breakfast tray, Mary's eyes were still on the card, reading once more Matthew's words. She didn't believe in this old-fashioned tradition and everything it implied, but still, she thought Matthew's card was lovely.
"Is this from Mr Crawley?" Anna asked with a smile while setting the tray on the bed.
From the beginning, Anna Bates supported the relationship between the Earl of Grantham's eldest daughter and the heir of Downton, and even reassured Mary when she had doubts on their future life the night before their wedding. In the course of time, Anna became a trustworthy person, and someone Mary knew she could count on.
"Yes," Mary answered with a vacant look. "He wants to celebrate our first Valentine's Day as husband and wife." She waited a few seconds, and took a sip of her morning tea.
"If I am not being indiscreet, did Bates send you a card today?" the young Mrs Crawley asked, looking at her maid.
"Of course, Milady. Mr Bates and I are very traditional. I received a card this morning, and so did he," Anna replied with a shy expression, a bit surprised by Lady Mary's question.
"So, you've sent him a letter too?" Mary seemed astonished by this fact. Was she supposed to write a card to Matthew too? What would he think when he'll discover she did not?
"Yes, didn't you do the same with Mr Crawley?" Anna questioned while opening the curtains. The sun was shining through the window, it was definitely the perfect day to celebrate love in the world.
"I'm afraid I did not," Mary sighed, feeling guilty. "Is this day that special, after all?" Was she a bad spouse for not taking time to send a card to her beloved husband on February the Fourteenth?
"If Mr Crawley sent you this," Anna said, looking at the card on Mary's bedside table. "This means this day is important to him. So it must be important to you too," the young maid explained before disappearing in the dressing room, where she would find Lady Mary's clothes for this new day.
Mary sighed once more, and got out of the bed to look through the window. She could have made an effort and write a card to Matthew, he would for sure have appreciated that.
When Anna got out of the dressing, she was holding a purple dress. The Lady's maid didn't know that it was, in fact, one of Matthew's favourites.
"It's not too late, Milady. You still have today to write something to Mr Crawley," Anna said, feeling Mary's despair.
"You're right," Mary stated, before smiling at the young maid. She briefly wondered how Anna did to always make her choose the best option, and the most important, what she would do without her precious help.
When Matthew came back home, along with Tom, it was 6 p.m., and he quickly made his way upstairs in order to get ready for the evening in London with his wife. He went down thirty minutes later, and found Mary in the library, waiting for him to join her. He kissed her softly on the cheek, and after helping the Lady to put her coat on, they walked together to the car.
"Thank you for your Valentine's Day card, by the way," Mary said, a smile on her lips.
"I hope you only received mine," Matthew replied, looking at his wife, who seemed confused by his words. "I'm sure the whole male population of the Village would have sent you one if you weren't already a perfectly happy married woman," he explained, smiling at Mary's expression: amused and outraged at the same time.
"Mr Crawley," she said with a serious tone, even if the huge smile on her face showed she was not offended at all. "Your words shocked my ears."
They finally walked through the doorway of Downton Abbey, and Mary suddenly stopped.
"Have you received a Valentine's Day note?" she asked, looking innocently at her husband.
"Not for the moment, my Darling," he smiled, remembering the conversation they had last night.
"Then," she mysteriously added, a hand on his chest, "You should check on your pockets, to be sure you looked everywhere. I will wait for you in the car."
The moment Mary walked away from him, Matthew immediately reached into his suit's inside pocket, where Mary's hand was moments ago. He surprisingly found a piece of paper. When he opened it, he couldn't help but smile.
Matthew, my Darling,
This may not be the most romantic note you ever received, and I am still not convinced about this tradition, but as this seems important to you, I do my wife duty by wishing you a very happy Valentine's Day.
I love you, more than February the Thirteenth, and probably less than February the Fifteenth. After all, maybe this is the true meaning of this festive day.
Your Mary.
THE END.
Hello!
First of all, thank you for giving a chance to this one-shot, I hope you enjoyed it, even if Valentine's Day was two weeks ago :)
I worked on this text everyday to be able to post it as soon as possible, but this is only tonight I finally finished it. I'm not English, so I hope I didn't make any huge mistakes (sorry if I did...).
In February 1921, Mary was already pregnant, and I wanted to talk about her and Matthew's future role as parents, but I thought it was better not to do it. Then, I was able to concentrate on Valentine's Day and its meaning. I can hardly imagine Mary loving this tradition, but she would probably do something for Matthew, even if this had to be a short text written on a simple sheet of paper ;)