Tom wasn't surprised that Mary didn't join them for dinner. Mary was shattered by the news. She had been brave when she had arrived from London, trying to maintain the fiction that she wasn't embarrassed and completely humiliated, and worse, guilty of being a fool. It was the last that shamed her, Tom was certain of that. Living with the Crawleys for years, as an employee and member of the family, he knew she wasn't as hard hearted as so many thought. She was facing a nightmare situation and he didn't begrudge her needing some time to digest it. If that meant he had to sit in her place as Robert tried to wrap his mind around the situation, he had no issue with that.
Even if Robert was so flabbergasted by the news that he was reduced to stuttering odd comments every few moments. As he and Tom made their way to the library for after dinner drinks, he sputtered. "Enslaved in a diamond mine! I knew the Germans were monsters but really!"
Robert, Tom understood suddenly, was also embarrassed. With reason, although the more charitable newspapers were quick to note how Matthew Crawley had been a barely known cousin that no one had known well. It was probably lucky, Tom realized suddenly, that Edith had editorial control over of a major paper and Sir Richard was focusing more on Matthew's trials and tribulations in Africa. There was also an investigation into the German spy started. "At least," Tom said to Robert, "he survived it."
Robert sighed. Then he smiled, with genuine warmth, Tom was pleased to see. "It is good news, Tom. As awkward and painful as this is, as difficult as it is to accept that we welcomed a complete stranger into the family while Matthew was suffering, the fact that Matthew is alive is something we should all be overjoyed about." He handed Tom a glass of scotch. "I'm glad Cora and Mother are with Isobel tonight. I thought she was going to faint when she heard the news."
Tom winced at the memory. He suspected that he and Rose were the lucky ones in the mess. Rose had never met Matthew until after the war, so she had never known anyone but the spy. Tom had known Matthew but before the war, all he'd been to Tom was Lord Grantham's heir, a quiet fellow who was always pleasant to the house staff. Sybil had liked him… As the memory rose in his head, he made sure to keep it off his face. "I suppose I just don't understand why the spy kept up the lie."
Robert waved his hand dismissively. "If he hadn't been wounded, I think this would have played out differently. But he was wounded, and he found himself unable to walk, among the enemy, being told he'd be paralyzed for life… If he confessed the truth, then what? He would have been sent to a prison camp. When the war was over, he'd be a cripple in Germany with little hope of finding work. If he kept his mouth shut, he could stay here, where people were concerned about him, and where even as an invalid, he'd be assured some position." The older man sighed pensively. "At first, at least, I think that man did everything he did out of desperation."
"But then?" Tom asked.
Robert sipped his drink. "It's a tale as old as time, Tom. I think he fell in love. With Mary. He was so depressed, I wonder how much of that was the pressure of living a lie. I suspect he agreed to marry Lavinia because we all told him he was supposed to be in love with her."
"And instead he fell in love with Mary…" Which as he considered it, made a wicked sort of sense. "And then Lavinia died and he must have felt guilty…"
Robert sighed again. "All the while, he's digging deeper and deeper into the family. I treated him like a son. I was grateful when he used the bequest from Reginald Swire to save this place and now I wonder how calculated it was."
"It wasn't," Tom reassured, feeling as though he'd found his footing with the mess. He smiled wryly. "I don't think the spy, the man we thought was Matthew, was all that different from Matthew. I suspect that's why we were fooled. Just… just because he was a German soldier, that doesn't mean he was evil. It was a war, and he was ordered to take Matthew's place and be a spy. I'm no soldier, but I do have some inkling of how it works. If he refused the order, what would have happened?"
Robert shrugged. "Refusing an order can get a man shot for treason. And once he was wounded, there was no easy way to back out of the story… I have sympathy, Tom. But this is a mess. Aside from the public finding the whole business endlessly fascinating, the fact remains that this causes us some huge problems." He took a seat on the couch and Tom sat down opposite him. "George can't inherit. Mary's marriage is legal so fortunately no one will be claiming he's a bastard but he's now the child of a German soldier. Mary is devastated, and worse, this will never be allowed to go away. Matthew is returning, and returning with some wealth, but I spoke to Lord Atherton, and to Mary, and they were both concerned that his health is delicate. He's also… facing any number of ugly truths, chief among them the fact that in some ways, it's fair to say we betrayed him terribly. There's also the issue of the money the spy received from Reginald Swire's estate. And Matthew…" Robert sighed again. "Before the war, my greatest fear was that Matthew viewed this place as an albatross around his neck, that one day, he was going to decide he'd had enough of us trying to make him live in our world. After the war, I thought the war had changed him, had made him realize what was important… And that was not Matthew. I can't imagine that he'll want much to do with any of us. I can't even imagine what Isobel must be thinking."
"What she should be thinking," Tom said firmly, "is what we just agreed on, that despite all the problems, it's still wonderful that Matthew is alive. Will he be coming here soon?"
"Sometime next week," Robert said quickly. "He's aiding the army in the investigation of the spy. I spoke with him on the phone. He sounded out of sorts, frankly. Out of sorts and very worried about his mother."
"He's the current sensation," Tom offered. "And I don't pretend that we were good friends," and that bothered him, the more he thought about it, "but who wouldn't be out of sorts, Robert? He's been through a hellish war, he was transported in chains to Namibia, he had to escape enslavement, and apparently has spent years wandering through the African veldt, only to return home to find out we didn't notice he was gone. It's surprising that he's bearing up so well."
Robert nodded. "I worry for him. I worry for Mary, but I know she's strong. With Matthew… I worry about him, I worry that everything you just described will have changed him for the worse."
"Don't," Tom said gently. "Don't chase after worries that aren't even there yet. He could be fine." Tom had his doubts but there was no point in making oneself sick with worry. "I'm going to check on Mary, and sure she had some dinner." Mary was too thin to begin with and he suspected she hadn't really eaten since finding out the news. She was struggling with it. He bid Robert good night and went up the stairs to Mary's room.
She was sitting at her vanity staring at two framed photographs. Photographs of Matthew, Tom realized, except that the wedding photo couldn't possibly be Matthew. The other was a photo Matthew had taken when the war began. A lot of the men did that, so that loved ones would have a keepsake just in case. Matthew's was unusual only in that he wasn't wearing a uniform. Mary looked up as he entered the room, her expression clouded but firm. "I'm all right Tom. You don't need to check on me, I'm not going to do anything dramatic."
"No one would judge you if you did. It's… quite a lot to take in." He gestured to the photos. "Are you looking for differences?"
Mary nodded. "I am… and I'm not finding them." Her voice cracked. "Oh Tom, he was so hurt. He didn't say it, I think he was worried about upsetting me, but I could see it in his eyes. And I keep trying to find something, anything, that should have told me this… this imposter wasn't Matthew."
He looked at the pictures. It was eerie. "He just looks a little heavier in the wedding photo. You shouldn't blame yourself. Not a one of us ever suspected." He forced away the memory of Sybil that Robert's words had reawakened in his mind. It wasn't the time, he reminded himself.
"I married a man who was lying to me. I don't even know his real name. It was all a lie." Mary's voice shook. Tom sat down next to her and put his arm around her, giving her a gentle hug.
"It wasn't all a lie," he said carefully. "We'll probably never know why this fellow kept Matthew's identity but… he did love you. If there's anything I know, that man adored you."
"And I loved Matthew," Mary retorted. She began to cry. "I don't think you're such a fool, Tom, that you didn't know that I regretted that we broke our engagement before the war. When he was wounded… I thought maybe it was a second chance, but he kept pushing me away because of the injury…"
And perhaps because he realized it was difficult to be Matthew Crawley with a woman who he was supposed to know well, Tom wondered. But that wasn't going to ease Mary's heart. "He was in a desperate place. Your father and I talked about, that he could hardly refuse the assignment to be a spy, that he was severely wounded. He might have viewed his being so injured as punishment for taking Matthew's life." He hesitated. He worried he was about grant the spy more decency than he deserved. At the same time, Tom couldn't forget that the man he knew as Matthew Crawley had been his friend, and a man who did his best to act honorably. "I wonder if when the feeling came back to his legs, if perhaps he took that as a sign that he was supposed to be Matthew for us."
Mary was quiet for a long moment. "What do you mean, Tom? That he was somehow innocent?"
"No, he's guilty, Mary. He took Matthew's place. But I think he tried to be a good person." The idea formed in his mind. "I think he offered to marry Lavinia as a sort of penance. He had taken Matthew's life but when he regained the ability to walk, he agreed to marry Lavinia to… do right by Matthew. But… I think he had fallen in love with you. And then Lavinia died…"
Mary sniffed. "He felt awful about that. That she died…" For a surprise, she blushed. "You may never have been told this, Tom, but… Lavinia saw us kiss the night she died. He was telling me how sorry he was, and it happened, and she saw us… And she went up to her room and died, but not before telling Matthew… the spy, that she thought it was better this way. He felt guilty." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I felt guilty, Tom. She was a good woman, everything that a man like Matthew deserved. And isn't that a bloody laugh? At least she never knew what fools we all were."
"You weren't a fool, Mary. Or if you were, you're in good company because everyone, including Lavinia and including Matthew's mother were equally foolish."
"That night… that Lavinia saw us…" Her eyes widened, as if she'd suddenly realized something. "He said he was so sorry. I thought… I thought he was sorry for the failed engagement. But… what if he was apologizing for taking Matthew's place?"
Tom nodded. "It makes sense, especially considering how upset he was over her death… I wasn't close to the family during that time but… Matthew and Lavinia seemed like cordial friends right before their wedding, not two people in love." Tom took her hand, hoping to reassure her. "You shouldn't torment yourself, Mary."
"I betrayed Matthew," she said firmly. "There's no dancing around it. I married a man I thought was Matthew, I shared secrets with that man, I had a child with that man. That the spy… whose real name I don't even know, was in love with me and was trying his best to be Matthew for me… Its small comfort, Tom."
"Small but some comfort, I hope. Stop beating yourself up." Tom managed a smile for her. "You said yourself, he wasn't angry with you."
Mary nodded. "Yes, I know. But in fairness, I think he was too overwhelmed. I never thought I'd ever say a nice thing about Sir Richard, but I am forced to by this. He was nothing but polite and kind to me, and he was genuinely worried that meeting by surprise would be too much for both of us. Even Tony was worried. And I had… fainted like a silly girl so I think Matthew was trying desperately to not make it worse." She gave Tom a worried look. "He's not well, Tom. I swear, he shook the entire time we were together. Any little noise startled him. There were scars on his wrists, from the chains, and he kept tugging at his cuffs so I wouldn't see them. The stories Richard has published… I think they're very toned down." Mary seemed to regain her inner steel. She looked at Tom intently. "I don't pretend that Matthew will ever truly forgive me, or that he'll ever be able to trust me enough to be more than friends again, but he will need help getting past this and I intend to help him, Tom. If he wants my help."
That could be good or bad, Tom realized, but like with Robert earlier, he thought it was best to wait and see what problems happened. "He'll need all of our help, I suspect." He bid her good night and went down the hall to his own bedroom.
Alone, he finally let his memories of Sybil play out in his mind. When Matthew, or rather the spy, had asked him to be his best man, he'd been surprised and pleased that at least one member of the family was willing to include him and be friendly. Sybil on the surface had been pleased as well, but later that night had raised a concern.
"Yes," Sybil said quietly as she curled up next to him on the bed, "it's very nice of Matthew." Tom could see her brow furrow in the moonlight coming from the window. "Maybe it's having been away that makes me think this but… Matthew is different."
It made Tom chuckle. "He's about to be married, Sybil. To your sister, and the two of them are like giddy schoolchildren about it. And you've been away, of course he seems different." God knows the whole place felt foreign and odd to him after being in Dublin for a year.
"No, it's different." Sybil rose up on one elbow to look at him directly. "He's different. He never used to… just agree with how Papa and Mary made plans. He's changed law firms so he'll have more time for the estate. He's let Mary choose everything for the wedding, and he's hardly invited anyone that isn't from our circle. Our circle that he didn't much care for. With his best man canceled, it's just his mother who's known him for any length of time."
"I think you're searching for worries that aren't there," Tom said gently as he held her. "He's picking his battles. He has to be the Earl when your father passes, so he has to learn more about running the estate. Letting Mary have what she wants for her wedding… that's what men do. I wish I'd had more to offer you in that regard. As for who he's invited… It was a long, brutal war, Sybil, and his school friends would have been the right age and education to be tapped as officers. You said yourself once, it seemed like every boy you ever danced with was dead. I also seem to recall the discussion around the servants table, that terrible middle class Cousin Matthew didn't have any family to speak of. So, who was he supposed to invite?"
He'd hoped he had eased her mind but she was still frowning. "It's just…" She frowned even more. "He doesn't remember the time he rescued me at the rally. I was teasing him about it, that it was the one time I was tempted to try to win his hand. He said he didn't remember it."
"He might not. You remember it because it was your first fight. And he was injured in the war. A lot of men who were injured don't remember things."
"He didn't hurt his head, Tom." She pursed her lips in frustration. "And he had reason to remember it, because that was the night he asked Mary to marry him, the first time."
Tom pulled her close in an embrace. "Maybe," he whispered in her ear, "maybe he was just embarrassed since it took six years, a war, and the both of them nearly marrying others, to get the job done. I've come to like Matthew a great deal, but he does embarrass easily." He kissed her. "I think you're just worrying too much. You probably caught him off guard."
"Maybe," Sybil agreed after a moment. "I just can't shake the feeling that something isn't right."
Tom looked at the photo on his vanity, the photo of Sybil that had been taken at Mary and Matthew's wedding. She hadn't pushed it any further, but Tom knew she had kept a close eye on Matthew. There were signs. Mary likely ignored them, because she had been head over heels in love. Robert and Lavinia had probably been the same, too overjoyed that Matthew had regained the ability to walk to notice any oddities. Tom himself could honestly say he'd only gotten to know Matthew after the war. But Sybil had noticed, and Sybil wasn't the person with the keenest eye when it came to Matthew Crawley.
If Sybil had noticed, he wondered as he gazed at her photo, then why hadn't Isobel? Perhaps, he told himself, I should ignore convention and ask Isobel some difficult questions.
