I do not own these characters but I certainly enjoy them. Thank you for the comments about the first chapter, hope you enjoy the ride Mary will be taking.
Waiting for Anna to shut the door so Mary could speak to Charles felt like it was taking an eternity. Once the latch clicked it felt like the huge estate was closing in around her. The solitude of her room felt small in comparison to usual space it held. Charles stood with his cap in his hands, worried lines straight along his eyes as the familiar scent of rain and sandalwood coated them both. It was one of the scents she found most comforting in the world, after George being fresh from a bath. If she closed her caramel orbs she could be wrapped in his presence like a blanket, content for the first time in so long; she can't though. In just a few moments she would be downstairs with the others, taking the hand of another man and not the one in front of her now.
"Charles." His name fell from Mary's lips so smooth, like a prayer whispered every night to deaf ears.
"You can't marry him," Charles answered as he stepped forward, the thump of his shoes the only sound echoing. He had stayed away for months now, his last words angry and now this. Stubbornness and excitement flowed together in a combustible manner as Mary grasped her bouquet tighter. It would be a lie if she thought she didn't want this but it was also awful timing. You mustn't let on to how you feel; she could hear the voice singing to her in her mind.
"Charles. You refrain from speaking to me even when I wrote and now you come here at this time and tell me what I can and cannot do? If granny were privy to this conversation she would be calling you mad." That was it; she could tell him how he hurt her as well. Silence filled the room again as Charles stepped forward once more, the space between them shrinking. Mary couldn't help but notice him wince as she gulped, his eyes tired and charming; if only she could drop the bouquet and smooth the creases along his eyes away with her gentle fingers.
"I was being a coward and masking it with good intentions. I kept telling myself to be the better man, that Evelyn is a fine chap and he is but... I can't. I don't want to be the better man." Words and hand motions came spewing from Charles now, two hearts beating furiously at the admission as Mary finally placed the flowers down while never breaking eye contact. "I simply want you and George. Have me Mary, we can leave until things calm and come back to Downton if it's what you want. If not we can travel and show George the world."
You and George. The words hit Mary like a ton of bricks, a small smile playing along her lips. After Matthew passed she never thought it was possible to find someone who could see the kindness in her like Matthew but Charles did. He also saw how stubborn she could be and remembered how much she despised the smell of cigar smoke. Most importantly he cared for George like Matthew would have; it shook her in the hardest way that someone else really did care.
Charles began to fidget, his hands tossing like waves wanting to pull them both to shore. It was something she had noticed he shared with Evelyn, they both would twitch when nervous or deep in conversation. One would be who would hold her heart and one would be her husband, even though it would be torture. Mary needed to reach and grasp Charles hands, to calm the nerves in both of them and for that last piece of contact. It was like two fires building as their rough and smooth skin combined, Mary sliding her dainty fingers along Charles with a gasp from both. It was obvious the difference in them both but beautiful all the same. Mary made note of how polished her hand seemed along his, the hands of a man who wasn't afraid to work for what he had in life and who made George giggle with shadow animals.
"I don't know what to say." As soon as the words were muttered, Mary wished she had something else. She had used the same phrase when he last proposed to her in the study at Grantham house and she could see the same hurt in Charles eyes now.
It had been raining out, god how fitting it had been for what she was going to say. Get it done quickly, the phrase kept running through her mind but it was impossible. He knew what was coming but they both kept putting it off. "You know I have to marry him." "I never knew Mary Crawley to do anything she didn't want to do." Charles was trying to play it off but worry lay out on his face like an open book. "Am I to beg you to reconsider? I thought things were splendid with us, with the courting and with the getting to know you and George. Dare I say I love you Mary? Would that change this?"
He had spoken how he loved her with such fire and truth that it mirrored Matthew's testament over shared sandwiches and wine. Would there be a day when she didn't compare everything to her late husband or think of how it would make him feel? Matthew would tell her to listen to what her heart is saying but that wouldn't be smart. Crawley women needed to make their lives based on many factors and sadly the heart was not one of them.
"I want you to say you want the same," Charles spoke, his voice deep and filled with worry; worry that Mary would once again deny them both. His thumb brushed along her hand slowly, tracing the lines of her palm and making her heart race.
The room shifted once again as Mary shuffled forward, the fabric of her ankle length wedding dress crashing against the tweed of Charles suit as their lips crashed together. Neither could think as the scotch along his bottom lip mixed with the urgency Mary already felt. The kiss had been brewing like a maddening storm and now it was swirling to consume them. Gentle hands moved along Charles hair, tugging as his rough ones dared to brush her hip.
She needed to stop it, everything was going the opposite of how it was supposed to but Mary wanted it. Her body was reacting in hunger and want and for once she felt in control, she needed the control. Maybe that's why she had gravitated to him in the first place, ever since the met he had challenged Mary and made her stand up for what she wanted and believed in. This was to show him she did want what he wanted, even if never came to be. Words were useless but actions spoke more than she could ever say.
Tap…Tap. Two quick raps at the door registered as Charles and Mary looked up; the quiet noise uncharacteristically loud and meeting the beat of their hearts. Surely whoever was at the door would notice the crinkle in her dress now and how flushed the tip of Charles nose was, his hand tugging the coat of his suit down. It was all too much now and Mary couldn't think straight as her mind only wanted to focus on the ruffled dark curls of the man in front of her; caused from her own hands. Her lips burned and the faint taste of scotch lingered like an ice-cream on a warm day.
"Apologies M'lady, its time," Anna chirped, her expression almost giddy as she peaked her head in. Mary felt relief wash over her body, shutting her eyes quickly. "I'm coming right down, let them know." She could feel Charles move beside her, his hands reaching out to place the bouquet of daisies back in her own hands. The act stung them both and made Mary feel faint, how did they go from a minute ago to now.
"I will do," Anna nodded before dashing away, leaving the door only slightly closed this time.
Mary needed to compose herself, to push everything back into their neatly placed boxes in her heart. The sound of both their heavy breathing filled the room, tension clinging to their skin like clothes. She hated herself for what she was about to do and say, how many times would she make this mistake? An image of the garden party when Matthew left before the war flashed in her mind, she always was so stubborn.
"I have to marry him, the scandal if I didn't would be grander than the one I faced with Richard." There it was, protecting the family above everything. The papers and her father's friends would speak about Mary leaving Evelyn for the rest of their lives. Of how a used widow left an honorable man to run away with one who didn't even hold an estate.
The look that crumpled Charles face was written as clear as in a dictionary; anguish. He turned away to face the door, placing his cap back on his wavy hair. Neither Charles nor Mary needed to see each other to know the pain that was happening, the cracks forming again. "Then you know I cannot stay to watch this."
"Please Charles," Mary's voice quivered, her hands shaking. There had to be some way to fix this all, to make it all work. Sybil would have known the advice to give her; she wished her sister was here now. Death had taken her and Matthew though, it always felt like the people she loved was leaving and that's why she needed to protect George so much.
"No Mary. You know I love you but this is what you have chosen, not myself." Charles turned his head to look over his shoulder once more, their eyes meeting with so many unsaid thoughts.
He was gone before Mary could respond, his defeated frame vanishing from her site and out the door. So here she was alone again, bouquet in hand and her chest thumping widely. Mary had learned to never cry in front of others, the sign of weakness always hidden but now a tear couldn't help but escape her eye. She had only truly ever cried over Matthew and now Charles, her heart was broken beyond repair.
You need to stop, it's time. Mary's mind yelled as she moved to the door, pausing to look in the mirror across the room one last time. The reflection was beautiful but empty, it wasn't one she enjoyed.