Summer 1918 - Part one
"Major Harrington, Your Lordship" Carson announced before stepping aside to let the man enter the room.
Lord Grantham was alone in his library, or rather in what was left of it, courtesy of Isobel and Sybil's idea to transform the castle into a convalescent home.
This war was really getting far too long, and those sacrifices granted for the war effort were eating away at Lord Grantham's patience. He agreed to the ultimate sacrifice, whittle down his own private library to give even more space to the recovering officers, but all this was seriously grating on his nerves.
Well, everyone had to suffer for one's country, after all…
Lord Grantham lifted his gaze from his newspaper and set it aside when his visitor entered.
How old could he have been? It was hard to tell, what with his strained features and still limping figure. He looked like a thirty-something, though war and wounds probably added five to ten years to his appearance. Twenty-five to thirty years-old, then? The same age as Matthew, Robert thought. After a few more weeks of recovery and healing, he'll walk normally again and will look much less tired, appearing like the young man he certainly still was.
Major Harrington walked a few steps into the library but stopped at a discreet distance from his host. Here, and despite his limp, he stood as straight and upright as if standing at attention before the king himself. Not only the man was not wearing a dressing gown over his uniform, but said uniform looked impeccable and immaculate, without a hint of a wrinkle. That was a nice change from what could be seen around there these days, with patients dragging themselves around in varying states of dress – or even relative undress. It didn't come to Lord Grantham's mind that those men hadn't valets nor batmen here to dress them or take care of their clothes.
"Major Harrington, is that right?"
"It is, Milord", the officer confirmed.
"My butler told me you requested to see me?"
At this, the man seemed to hold himself even straighter, if possible.
"I did, Milord" the officer answered.
Lord Grantham noticed several military decorations pinned on his chest, ribbons hanging and medals shinning in the daylight coming from the window. Obviously, the man took great care to look his best.
"Well, go ahead Major," Robert said with a small smile of encouragement, "I'm all hears."
Major Harrington visibly gulped and then drew in a breath. Still wondering what the officer would have to tell him, Robert took another look at his attire, and noticed than the man was wearing white gloves. White gloves?
"Lord Grantham, I have the great honour to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."
