The couple will be spending a few days at the ritzy Grand Hotel at the Brighton shore. Upon their arrival, Mary wanders a little in the lobby of the high-end hotel on the beach, looking out the windows toward the ocean while Henry checks them in. A bellhop approaches while she is turned the other way, asking, "Mrs. Talbot, are these the bags to be taken to your room?" She doesn't answer immediately, but Henry has come up to them and so he replies, "Yes, thank you." Mary turns, smiling, and doesn't seem to realize that she was being addressed.
She inquires, "Is our room ready?"
Henry looks at her quizzically, "Yes…Are you alright, darling?" They begin walking toward the lift. Surprised at the question, Mary asks, "Yes-why do you ask?"
"The bellhop just asked about taking our bags, and you didn't respond."
Thinking she must have just been distracted by the view, Mary starts to apologize dismissively, "I'm sorry…I didn't—" She cuts herself off, laughing with a little embarrassment. "Oh! Heavens! I have been referred to as Mary Crawley all of my life; I am sorry, Henry-it may take some adjustment for me to get used to being Mrs. Talbot. I'll be honest that was one aspect of marrying Matthew that was rather convenient."
Henry pauses for a moment, considering something, "Would you like to keep Crawley as your last name? It would be unconventional, but…"
Mary is visibly surprised. "Golly! That would be something, wouldn't it! Granny would be absolutely scandalized." She pauses and smiles while she considers the suggestion. "There is something very appealing about that," she thinks, but only fleetingly. She turns to her husband, stating confidently, "No, while that is the type of modern thinking that I love in you, I would not want anyone to think I was not proud to be your wife."
"Oh, we would be able to handle any naysayers," Henry responds. "But, if you are sure…?"
Mary nods and rolls her eyes as if he needn't ask twice.
"Then I'll admit it does please me, Mrs. Talbot," he emphasizes with a kiss. They arrive at their suite, and the bellhop unlocks the door for them and bows to let them enter first.
Later, the couple enjoys a walk along the boardwalk in the late afternoon before teatime. Mary's parasol shades her face from the bright sun. Henry is carrying his jacket in one arm, Mary's hand on his other. Henry fills Mary in on the few plans that he has made for their short stay.
"Tonight's performance should be excellent—I hear they have done a bang-up job of bringing entertainment here to the Pier. Some are even on par with London."
Mary says, "I am looking forward to it." Henry's mention of London entertainment reminds Mary that he is making a significant lifestyle change. "Darling, are you sure you are ready to give up city life? Downton is very different than the hustle, bustle, and nightlife of London."
Henry replies, "True, but are you questioning whether I am ready to settle down? Isn't it a little late for that-what choice do I have?"
"But that's my point—will you feel trapped in a while? If the tables were turned, I should think I might."
Henry admits, "Yes, the changes in my life will be fairly drastic, and perhaps when the dust settles I will start to get antsy. But let me assure you that I want to be with you and George."
His tone is so earnest, that Mary cannot question it further, "Thank you for including George." She decides to remind him, "Don't forget the rest of the family…"
Henry laughs with her, "Thankfully Tom and I get along well; I appreciate that he shares my love of automobiles."
All of a sudden, Henry looks a little sadly pensive. Mary is concerned. "What is it, darling?"
"Oh, I was just thinking that Tom is a little like Charlie." Henry pauses a little before continuing, "I miss him, especially his humor. He would have been happy for us." They walk for a little bit more, Mary silently respecting Henry's mourning.
That night they attend what is billed to be a top notch orchestra performance at the Pier. As they walk there, they almost don't care what the show is-they are in love, and the beautiful ocean setting is an excellent backdrop to their enjoyment of each other's company. They are entertained by the concert, but they take as much pleasure in sitting with their arms entwined and hands clasped than what is on stage. At intermission, they head to the lobby and Mary excuses herself to go to the ladies lounge.
As Henry is waiting, he hears a familiar voice call out, "Henry Talbot! Good to see you!" Henry turns to see an old pal approaching. "Why, Hello, Richard! How are you doing?" Sir Richard Carlisle grasps and shakes Henry's hand.
Carlisle replies, "I am doing well, thank you! What brings you to Brighton? Are you like me, getting away from the oppressiveness of a London summer for a couple of days, enjoying a bit of sea air?"
"Yes, but actually, I am on my honeymoon."
Richard is surprised, "Your honeymoon?! I hadn't heard you were engaged!"
Henry smiles and begins to relate the tale, "It has been a bit of a whirlwind. We met last year, and started seeing more of each other some months ago. After Charlie's accident, I had a sense of urgency to resolve things in my life. There just didn't seem to be any reason to wait to marry, and thankfully she was agreeable. This is her second marriage, so it was just a quick, small family affair. The announcement should reach the papers soon."
Richard offers his support,"It will now that I know! Well, congratulations, then! Where is your bride?"
Henry nods in the direction of the ladies' lounge, "She'll be out soon."
"My sympathies, again, by the way, on Charlie's death," Richard continues. "I've been meaning to be in touch with you. The paper has gotten such a tremendous response to the eulogy you wrote about him that we published—it was very poignant, and well written. We're always on the lookout for people who can elicit that type of reaction. Not only does it sell papers, it's proof to our advertisers that people are actually reading the paper. I was wondering if you might consider doing a column for us, say, on automobiles in general as well as racing. What do you say?"
Henry is intrigued at the notion, "Hmm, now that sounds rather enticing…yes, I think that would be enjoyable."
"Excellent! I'll alert my office to make arrangements. Contact us upon your return," Richard says.
Mary approaches, but from the direction of Richard's back, so she doesn't see the face of the man Henry is talking to. Henry sees her coming, and begins to make the introductions. "Ah, here she is—Sir Richard Carlisle, allow me to introduce you to Lady Mary Talbot."
As Richard turns around, both Mary's and Richard's expressions convey complete but not altogether happy surprise. Mary recovers first, "Carlisle and I are already acquainted, although it has been several years. I hope you are doing well."
Richard turns on his social graces as well, "I am doing splendid. I would ask the same, Mary, but the answer is obvious!"
Mary quickly concludes that she should let Henry know about that engagement, while squelching any possibility that Carlisle think they have no knowledge of each other's previous relationships. She turns to Henry, "Recall we discussed our respective pasts, but we never mentioned specifics…Richard and I were engaged at one point, before Matthew."
Henry, looking a little surprised, "Oh!"
Richard attempts to present the outcome in as neutral a way as possible, "Unfortunately for me, Mary decided it wouldn't work out for us after all."
Mary graciously declares, "But Richard was a perfect gentleman about it."
Richard looks at Mary with an almost wistful expression, but turns to Henry, "You are a lucky man, Henry!"
"That I do know." The lights blink for the start of the next act. Richard extends his hand to Mary, then to Henry, saying, "Congratulations again! It was good to see you-enjoy your holiday! Henry, remember to be in touch!" Then the three split off to their respective seats.
Back at the hotel later, Mary walks out of their suite's French doors to the balcony overlooking the beach. She is dressed for bed in a beautiful, pale pink silk negligee and matching robe, holding a glass of champagne. It is a sizable balcony, with enough space for two chaise lounge chairs as well as a small café table and chairs. The table has Henry's glass and the ice bucket with the champagne bottle on it. Henry, in his robe, turns off the lights in the room and comes out to join her. He takes his glass and stands close at her side so they both have one arm around each other, looking out to the ocean.
"What a gorgeous night," Mary sighs, taking a sip. Henry agrees by kissing her gently on her temple, "Mmm, beautiful."
"I am sorry if it made you uncomfortable earlier, with Carlisle."
Henry gives a little, gentle snort, "I think you two were more uncomfortable than I was."
Mary's look tells Henry that she concurs. Her curiosity is piqued, and she asks, "How do you know him?"
"Why, we've known each other for years. Racing is entertainment for viewers as much as it is sport for drivers. Naturally, that means a connection to papers. I suppose we've just been in similar circles."
Mary nods in understanding. Something about the interaction has unsettled her. "I feel like we should tell each other more about our past relationships, to avoid such situations in the future."
Henry does not want the little incident to distract them from the purpose of their trip. He takes both of their glasses and puts them down, wrapping her in his arms. "That is up to you…but, later, please. Right now I am feeling rather selfish. I would rather you not think about Carlisle..." He kisses her forehead, and she smiles up at him. He continues, "... or Napier..." He kisses her neck by one ear, "...or Gillingham…" Mary looks surprised, but Henry kisses her neck on the other side. "...or Blake." He kisses her on the lips.