A/N: Written for a tumblr prompt from lala-kate involving Mary's pearl necklace and Mary and Blake at the bazaar. Not quite a missing scene because this was written before 4x07 when Blake met George. So AU now but hopefully still enjoyable!
"He wants to marry me."
"Does that come as a surprise to you, Mary?"
She raised her shoulders in an elegant shrug. "Not really, I suppose."
He glanced down at her hands, held tensely and not quite still. "I think Gillingham made his intentions very clear to us all when he broke it off with Mabel Lane Fox."
Mary smiled briefly in acknowledgement and suddenly stopped walking. Her eyes darted across his face and he raised his eyebrows at her, waiting to see what had caused this change of direction, giving her his full attention.
"Is he a good man, Mr. Blake?" she asked. "I knew him as a child but you knew him in the war. I think he is, only…"
"Only you would rather ask a complete stranger his opinion than trust your judgement?"
"You are not a complete stranger."
He moved his hands restlessly, folding and refolding his gloves. He would rather not be having this discussion. "One mud-slinging match and we're best friends, is that it?"
She ducked her head, her smile lighting up her face, even as she met his eyes in irresistible challenge. "If you like."
He smiled back. "Then as your friend, I say that he is a good man."
She nodded, the smile still there but somehow seeming more forced. He peered at her more closely. "As your friend I am also bound to point out that you are the only person able to decide whether you want to marry someone or not."
Her eyes flashed back to him.
"And if I were to paint the blackest portrait of him, I've no doubt you'd go right ahead and marry him anyway if you wanted to."
"You are not making a very good case for my listening to your advice," she retorted, tossing it over her shoulder as she set off towards the pram that Nanny was pushing near them.
"I'll try to be more persuasive next time," he said after her, watching her back in appreciation as he followed her.
She glanced back and her expression was a delight. He couldn't possibly be misreading that, could he?
Mary's attention was now on her son, however, as she looked into the pram. Charles hung back. He had only seen George once before now and would not want to intrude.
"How is he?" Mary was asking the nanny.
"Such a good boy and enjoying the bazaar so much."
"I'm sure he is," she replied drily. "However, it would be nice if he could see some of it, don't you think?"
She glanced back at Charles, as if to make sure he'd heard her. He had and his lips twitched. Quickly, her attention shifted back and she bent over the pram to pick him up. As she did so, her necklace hit the metal side and came between her arms. She straightened up and removed her hat, handing it to the nanny. Then she stretched her arms over her head and quickly pulled off the necklace.
Charles had not noticed how his eyes were following the movement of every single pearl as she held them in momentary hesitation until she turned round. "Would you mind…?"
She held out the string and he took it, his fingers gently brushing hers as the cool gems cascaded over his hand.
Then she was lifting the baby out of the pram and - holding him out to him. "Just for a moment, while I fix my hat."
"I-"
She expected him to obey her and he was too flabbergasted to refuse. He shoved the necklace into his trouser pocket and found his arms filled with a large, warm, wriggling, alert baby who blinked curiously up at him from huge, liquid brown eyes.
Charles could not remember the last time he had had a small child anywhere near him, let alone held against his chest. He swallowed and grinned awkwardly. George responded by knitting together his faint, dark brows and treating him to a look of unimpressed confusion that gave him far more of a personality than Charles would have expected from so young a boy.
George followed up his characteristically Crawley look of disdain by puckering his lips and blowing a raspberry. Charles' eyebrows shot up and he chuckled, unable to help it. "You and me both."
He blew a raspberry of his own in competition and was given an infant giggle in response which only made him grin wider. He looked over George's head and met Mary's eyes. Her hat had been back on her head for several moments already and she was just staring at them in silence, an expression on her face that he had never seen before. Caught out in her observation, her eyes flickered away and she stepped forward, holding out her arms. His chest tightening with the realisation that the squirming life he held in his arms was hers, he was glad to relinquish George.
There was no clever riposte this time. "Thank you, Mr. Blake," she said quietly, her eyes only meeting his briefly.
George grabbed at her short sleeve, more comfortable in his Mama's arms, but Charles found his hand was still on the boy's back a second after he should have let him go. He dropped his arm.
"Quite alright, Lady Mary." With a crooked smile, he added, "Entrusted with the heir of Downton Abbey; I must be moving up in the world!"
Mary took a deep breath and shifted her son on her hip. "Well, we couldn't leave you with the pigs for ever, could we?"
This time he managed to maintain her gaze for a long moment. She looked her challenge and her amusement, he met her head-on and raised the stakes, she wondered at his presumption but did not back down, and finally he laughed out loud in pleasure.
She was delightful.
