CHAPTER ONE

It was a clear spring morning and the Crawley family were sat around the breakfast table. Lady Grantham had a letter in her hand and was smiling with a certain amount of satisfaction.

"Mary, darling," she began, "I've asked Sir Timothy Spencer to stay with us for a time and he has expressed an intention to get to know you better," said Cora, trying not to appear too obvious in her plans for her daughter.

"Oh Mama, really? Must you always be trying to sell me off to some dreary old bachelor?" Mary exclaimed, rolling her expressive dark brown eyes.

"You have to marry someone, Mary! This summer will be your fourth season in society and it's really high time you were settled, with your own establishment."

Robert raised his head from his newspaper and interjected.

"Cora, isn't Spencer that terrible old bore who leered at the girls at the Devonshire's ball last year? He hardly seems an ideal match for Mary, my dear. And besides, he must be nearly fifty!"

The Countess shot him her most scathing look. "Sir Timothy is a very respectable man, Robert. Must I remind you that he owns the Sandsbury estate in Hampshire and is in line to inherit the title from the Duke of Suffolk?"

Robert raised his eyebrows, coughed and buried his head in his newspaper once more.

Cora continued. "Anyway Mary, it appears that Sir Timothy is very fond of archery, so I've asked Carson to set up the range for a small tournament for a few people whilst he is here."

"Excellent! If he is to be part of a sporting party, I won't have to see much of him!" Mary returned, trying unsuccessfully to keep the joy from creeping into her voice.

"Really, Mary, must you always be so contrary! Of course you must be part of the tournament and you have to shine," said the Countess, a steely quality now entering her voice. "You are to practise this afternoon."

Edith let out an unkind snigger. "But Mary is a terrible archer, Mama! Do you remember when she shot the gardener in the l..."

"That's quite enough, Edith," snapped the Countess. "I'm sure that with practise, Mary will be quite perfect. I would like you to go down to the range after luncheon and practise for at least two hours."

Mary groaned and began to retaliate but was silenced by a firm glare from her mother. "Oh... very well Mama, as you are so insistent. But really, I..."

"Enough, Mary! You are to be charm itself when Sir Timothy arrives and he will be so taken with you and your archery prowess, that he will fall in love with you."

Edith smirked as Mary grumbled and was swiftly rewarded by a hard kick from Mary under the table. "At least I have some men who want me! When was the last time any suitors came for you!" Pleased with her remark and infuriated by constantly being paraded "for sale" in front of eligible men, Mary stood up and swept from the room with icy hauteur.

CHAPTER TWO

Matthew had finished his work at the firm early and had been lolling about the house with nothing to do but wait until an inevitably awkward dinner at Downton in the evening. He was sick of reading and his mother had business at the hospital to attend to.

"Why don't you go for a walk, Matthew?" suggested his mother on her way out, busily gathering her nursing things together. "The woods around Downton are so lovely at this time of year."

Matthew took up her suggestion with a smile. "Do you know, Mother, I think I will."

He shrugged on his black coat and donned his hat and set off towards the woods surrounding the Abbey. The woodland appeared completely deserted and he smiled at the solitude and quietness. The crocuses and snowdrops were in full bloom and as he paced through the ancient woods, he felt at peace in the tranquil atmosphere. He walked for a little longer and he noticed a periodic thud come from nearby. Matthew walked towards the noise and then, through the trees, he noticed Lady Mary, bow and arrow poised to shoot. He watched her for a little while, enjoying the luxury of observing her alone, her muscles taut and her face strained in concentration. She let a few arrows go in quick succession, but was utterly unsuccessful in shooting anywhere near the target. As she released another arrow into a nearby tree, he couldn't help letting out a soft chuckle. Mary turned around like a shot, her nostrils flared in indignation and she felt herself blushing as she realised he had been watching her.

"And what is so funny, may I ask, Cousin Matthew?" Mary said, glaring at the intruder.

"Well... it's just..." Matthew stammered, deeply embarrassed at having been caught by his laughter, but still smiling.

"What!"

"You really are a dreadful archer, Mary," he began apologetically. He grinned and continued, "I suppose you'll say I'm not a gentleman for saying it."

By this time, Mary was seething with anger, at him and at herself for allowing anyone to see she was not accomplished and elegant in all things. She thrust the bow and arrow towards him and demanded,

"Well. As you seem to know so much about it, you can show me how good you are!"

Mary assumed he would never have had an opportunity to pick up a bow and arrow in his life and felt a sense of triumph in embarrassing him. To her dismay, he took off his coat and jacket, hung them on a branch and took the bow from her hands, fixing an arrow to the string of the bow and took his stance. Mary felt herself losing the upper hand rapidly and she felt her colour deepen as she noticed for the first time the strength in his arms and torso, the muscles highlighted by the tightness of his thin white shirt.

Matthew released the arrow and it hit the bullseye with a resounding thwack. Mary let out an involuntary moan of frustration as he turned around with an infuriating smile on his face, his brilliant blue eyes sparking with fun.

Mary was almost rendered speechless in her annoyance. "Matthew Crawley, you really are the most... the most..." she struggled.

"Talented gentleman?" suggested Matthew with a cheeky smile, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"That was not precisely what I had in mind!" Mary returned, her annoyance quickly ebbing away as she noticed his handsome features lit up when he smiled at her.

"Why don't I help you?" asked Matthew, his smile wavering as he looked at her face, her delicate features slightly flushed, with those deep, dark chocolate eyes and he became ever more aware that they were entirely alone.

Mary took her stance and Matthew stood behind her so that his body was pressed close against her back. Her breath quickened slightly as she tried to stay cool and calm, but she could feel the hard outline of his muscular body against hers and her heart began to pound. He lightly pushed her right arm a little further down and his left hand curled softly around hers on the smooth wood of the bow. She jolted slightly at this skin to skin contact and felt warmer and warmer as she felt his hot breath tickling the back of her neck. His whole body was now encircling her as he helped her achieve the correct stance; his heart was beating hard with the new intimacy of the situation and he tried to remain clear headed as he murmured in her ear, "Now, release..."

The arrow flew straight to the heart of the target and overcome with joy and pride, Mary smiled one of her rare devastating smiles. Matthew was delighted for her and as she turned around to thank him, they found themselves gazing into one another's eyes quite by accident. Matthew realised that his arm was still curled around her, but looking into her eyes, he found that he didn't want to release her. Mary tried to re-establish a sense of normality by saying "Why, thank you Cousin Matthew!" But her throat felt constricted as her eyes flickered down to his full lips. They began to sway towards each other as if guided by an invisible force and as Matthew bent down and lightly pressed his lips to hers, she let out a sigh of contentment. Any thought Matthew had of controlling himself was dissolved in that sigh. He wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, desperate to be closer to her and the flicker of surprise in Mary's eyes quickly faded as his tongue flicked into her mouth, wiping all coherent thoughts from her mind. He tilted her head back and the kiss deepened further and further until she felt she could bear the pleasurable sensations he invoked in her no longer. She felt pleasantly helpless in his strong grasp and she gave herself up to the kiss, delving her fingers into his sleek blonde hair and pressing herself closer to him. He could feel the soft swell of her breast against him and he ached to know her more, to do more to her, but he knew he had to pull away before he became utterly helpless against the hypnotic power she had over him. As he slowly pulled back from the kiss, she elicited a soft moan of desire and disappointment.

"Mary, we must stop..." His voice was deep and hoarse with arousal as he looked at her, flushed and dishevelled.

"Must we, indeed?" she inquired, raising one eyebrow. She moved in nearer and nearer to his face, he closed his eyes, feeling her breath on his lips.

"Well, if you think that's best... I'll see you at dinner." He opened his eyes in surprise as she shot him a tormenting sensual look, looking up through her thick lashes and giving a provocative smile. She walked away, skirts swaying, with Matthew staring after her longingly, mouth slightly open in awe at what they had just done. He was certainly looking forward to dinner at the Abbey tonight now.