Thanks a million for the reviews and follows that I've already received. This is my first fic, so I'm very pleased that it's already gotten as much of an audience as it does! I apologize in advance that this is the shortest chapter in the whole fic! I wrote it just as I was getting started and it's just 4 short scenes (hopefully they should build some suspense). The next one will be longer than the first two combined, so don't give up yet! I hope to post a chapter every Saturday until the story is done. Also, this story may be a little ridiculous at times- I've tried my best to come up with explanations for everything, which will slowly be revealed throughout the fic- but at times this is going to seem far fetched. Just go with it!
Chapter 2
July 1923
Mary clutched her purchases in her hand as she walked down the London road. She had needed a walk and some shopping to clear her head of the earlier fright she had experienced. She was still reveling a bit in the shock of seeing what could only be Matthew's doppelganger. She decided to brush it off as some sort of waking dream, a result of dancing through the night at Rose's ball. But the fresh air and the thrill of purchasing a new pair of gloves had calmed her a bit.
Soon I will be back at Downton, she thought happily. The London Season was glamorous and fun, but Mary wasn't the young socialite she had once been. She was eager to get back to the rest and calm of country life. She sighed contently as she thought of riding old Diamond through the estate, taking in the last of the summer sunshine.
As Mary looked up to cross the street, she gasped. Her whole body went cold. There he was, Matthew.
It surely could be no one else. His blond hair flopped in his face, his gate was just as she remembered it, he was wearing the same suit and hat she'd thought she saw him in before. He looked entirely alive. Not like ghost or some other ghastly creature of a gothic novel, but like a real person.
She looked at him, trying to catch his eye. Her dead husband was walking past her. It had to be him. Why wasn't he looking at her? What was going on?
She suddenly felt short of breath and rather dizzy. She saw an upcoming bench on and quickly crossed to it. She looked back to try to find Matthew but he was gone.
Had he ever been there at all? Thought Mary sadly, a she held back the tears.
November 1920
"Stop, please stop," Matthew said, clearly. He tried to focus on what he needed to say and not on sharp prick of the blade against his neck.
He couldn't turn to look at his captor, for just that movement would result in a slit throat. He could only hope that the person was merciful, though merciful people weren't often ones to hold people up.
"Do you want money? Food? Riches?" Matthew begged, desperately. Nothing mattered to him. He couldn't die. Not now when Mary needed him. Not with a baby on the way. He would offer anything.
The voice snarled back, "Ha- as if! Money and luxury mean nothing for me."
"Please, anything," Matthew gasped, "We can give you anything you need."
"What I want," the voice snapped, "is for the Crawley family to fall."
July 1923
Isobel sat in the tea parlor alone. It was her last day in London and she had wanted to spend a little time on her own. Though she enjoyed socializing with Violet and Martha, she was used to her quiet way of life. A quiet tea by herself, a wander through a bookstore, and perhaps a bit of a walk through a park would be the loveliest way she could think to end her trip to London peacefully.
Isobel poured her tea into the teacup, she picked up a biscuit to nibble on as she waited for it to cool. It was moments like this when she missed Matthew most. He was always so peaceful, the perfect companion for her on an afternoon like this. She often imagined afternoons as they would be if he was still here. She could see this afternoon plainly- Mary inviting Matthew to come shopping with her, but Matthew bowing out, shopping was always a pastime of Mary, but never Matthew. She imagined him agreeing to get tea with Isobel instead. They'd talk about George and about how the season had gone. It would be a simple afternoon, the kind you probably wouldn't think anything of, but now it seemed like the finest way to spend her day.
Just as Isobel was lost in her thoughts about Matthew, she saw him walk past the window. At first she thought, Oh of course, that is my son here to meet me for tea. Then she felt a jolt go through her, it was her son! Right there, walking by the tea parlor.
She stood up to look properly through the window. He was across the street by now, walking quickly away. But that wouldn't stop Isobel.
She leapt towards the door and burst into the warm July air. He was nearing the end of the street, about to turn. Isobel didn't think about the logic that her son who had been so very much dead, was walking down the London street, she only knew that she could not let him walk away.
"Matthew," she exclaimed.
He turned and looked at her. Then turned the corner. By the time she reached it, he had disappeared.
November 1920
Matthew did not allow himself to think of the criminal holding him hostage. He didn't try to understand why someone would want the Crawley's to fall. He only thought of Mary. He thought of the baby.
"Please," Matthew told the man, his words coming out in gasps, "I've just found out my wife is pregnant. Please, please, let me live to see my child. You can… you can… kill me off after that. I just want to see my child. I just want to be a father."
The words came out of Matthew's mouth and he realized how very true they were. He had always wanted a child. He knew that his constant asking for kids had bothered Mary at first. Though she was just as keen to conceive, she didn't see the same rush that Matthew had. For Matthew though, fatherhood had always been his dream. He wanted this more than anything. But would it be enough to keep himself alive?
Thanks for reading, my darlings! I would absolutely love reviews and feedback! :)
Next Week: 1923- Mary and Isobel discuss their encounters with Matthew, 1920- Something horrible happens to Matthew