She was astonished, but worry grew inside her as she wondered what on earth had made Lavinia flee crying like that.

She scurried, half running, up the corridor, into the room, to find Matthew lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling with a sad look in his eyes, but no other thing wrong about him.

Mary sat down, trying to understand what had happened.

"I've told her to leave, to go back in London" Matthew whispered, still looking anywhere but to Mary.

"I don't want to be a burden for her… or for anybody…" he added, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"I'm just a wreck, I would be better off if I had died… anything would be better than living this half-life…" his voice was bitter, his eyes dull.

Her heart clenched, she wanted to tell him that she loved him, that she couldn't live without him… that he was everything to her… But she couldn't, and she knew it. Sir Richard existed, and she couldn't cross him.

"Please…" she whispered, trying to take his hand in hers. "Matthew, please… Don't… you are not a burden, I… We are all so glad that you're fine…"

"I-AM-NOT-FINE!" he screamed, pulling away from her touch, his face red from the effort. "I don't want your pity, Mary! I don't even know what you're doing here! You never cared about me, I was only a sea-monster, remember? Well, maybe now you will be able to get Downton Abbey and your father's money, after all… isn't that what you have always wanted?" he fell back on his pillows, turning his face towards the wall, panting from exertion.

She was perched on the chair, petrified, her heart beating furiously in her chest and her ears still ringing from his screams. Her eyes were full of tears, and her thoughts a jammed mess of hurt and love and rage.

How can you think those things of me? How can you think I'm here out of pity? How can you even think that I don't care about you?

Oh, Matthew… I never wanted Downton for myself, not after I understood that I love you… if it meant that you could be happy, I would give it up right now, without looking back…

Why can't you see that you deserve some happiness after all you've been through?

Mary stood up, without a word, and started to walk away from him, too stricken to be able to say something.

She hadn't done more than three steps, when she heard his voice.

"Please… Don't go… I'm so sorry…"

She turned to look at him, completely confused by his sudden change of mood.

"Mary…" he whispered again, silent tears going down his cheeks as he looked at her, clearly ashamed of his outburst. "I am so sorry… I don't know what's happening to me… I'm not angry with you; I don't think those things… Please…"

Her heart swelled, and she went back to the chair she had occupied until then. She smiled softly.

"You have every right to be angry, Matthew… I understand it… But please, don't cut me out… I do care about you… More than you think…" she had let out more than she had intended to, but her heart had taken hold of her, and she couldn't regret it, when Matthew took her hand.

"We're friends again, then?" he had asked, trying to sound cheerful and failing.

"Sure" she had managed to answer, her throat tight.

He had evidently exhausted himself during his fit of fury, and he fell asleep quickly, holding Mary's hand.

Mary had got back home in time for the dressing gong that night, and she was really surprised by Carson's appearance in the drawing room right before dinner.

"Sir Richard Carlisle" he announced, retiring respectfully as the Londoner entered.

The evening was a nightmare for Mary, who was completely unable to eat anything and finally excused herself just after the men had joined the ladies after dinner, lamenting a headache.

Thank God he's leaving tomorrow, she thought as she crossed the hall.

"Mary?" Lord Grantham's voice stopped her as she prepared to climb the stairs. "Are you all right?" he asked, looking quite concerned.

"It's just a headache, Papa" she answered.

"Can I have a quick word with you, then?" he went on. "I know you are strongly opinionated, and I respect that, but you must let me tell you I don't like that man, Mary. You have accepted his proposal, and I have given my consent, but I can see that you aren't in love with him. Why would you marry him?"

She closed her eyes for a moment; she didn't want her father to see through her lies.

She didn't want to marry Sir Richard, but that was part of their agreement… if she didn't marry him, he would publish the whole, unabridged story of her liaison with Pamuk, she would be ruined, and her family along with her.

"I do love him, Papa. Don't worry for me, I'll be happy. Good night."

She kissed her father on the cheek and left him there, bewildered and at a loss for words, but still unconvinced by his elder daughter's behaviour.

The next morning, Mary woke up once again quite early, as she wanted to bid Sir Richard goodbye before he left Downton. He was going to America for business, and he would spend there two months.

"Oh, Lady Mary" he greeted her when she got in the hall. "I hope you're feeling better this morning"

"I am, thank you" she answered, smiling. They were alone, as Carson had momentarily left to see if the car had already been brought up front.

"I have been told last night by your sister, Lady Edith, that you spend quite an amount of time nursing one particular soldier, a Captain Crawley." She had opened her mouth to answer, but he cut her off, looking at her in a threatening fashion. "Now, I happen to know that you two have shared quite a romance in the past… I would be grateful if you will give up his care to another nurse, or, well… I will have to re-think my agreement to your request".

He took a step back and towards the door as Carson re-entered.

"Good bye, Lady Mary."

"Good bye, Sir Richard. Have a pleasant trip" she answered, trying to sound her usual self.

She went quickly back up to her room, saying that she had forgotten her handkerchief, as she would need to leave for the hospital immediately after breakfast.

I won't give up on Matthew. She thought to herself. And Edith will have to learn to keep that mouth of hers tightly shut, if she wants to be able to live peacefully in this house.

At breakfast, she got an unexpected note from Lavinia, who asked her to go and visit her that same morning, as she would be leaving for London with the midday train.

"I can't stay if he so clearly doesn't want me to" Lavinia told her in the little parlor of Crawley House.

"He was pretty clear yesterday, and I don't see how I could impose my presence when it is so unwelcome by Matthew."

Mary tried to tell her that, sometimes, shell shock brought men to say things they didn't mean, and that, according to Dr. Clarkson, Matthew was very probably suffering from that condition.

"Oh, I do know that, Mary." Lavinia answered. " But, you see, the point is that he doesn't love me. He has clearly said so. And, well… we've never actually announced our engagement, because it only happened the last time he was on leave before this… So, there's nothing I can do…"

"Lavinia, I'm quite sure that he has lied to you… Matthew would never propose to a woman he isn't in love with…" Mary was at a loss, she couldn't see why Matthew would do such a thing, and he had always been such a polite, lovely man…

"Well, then you might also be able to tell me why he was saying your name in his sleep, yesterday, while I was with him" Lavinia shot back, her eyes full of tears.

Mary stood there, taken aback and completely unable to think, let alone answer.

"See. That's what I thought. Goodbye, Mary." She rang for Mrs. Bird, who accompanied Mary to the door.

Isobel was waiting for her there, an unreadable expression on her face.

"She has told me the reason they've broken the engagement for. I..." she began, but Isobel cut her off.

"I know, I talked to Lavinia too. I am so very sorry for the dear girl, but... I can't say I'm surprised. I've seen the way you look at my son, Mary, and as far as things regarding Matthew go, I will only say that a mother understands certain things. Forgive me if my words are inappropriate, dear, but I hope you'll understand. Too many mistakes have already been made."

"Cousin Isobel, I..." Mary was blushing furiously.

"I know, I know, you're late and you should already be at the hospital, and the same is for me. I shall come with you, let's go."

The two women left, side by side, Mary still at a loss for words.

What did she mean with that speech of hers about me and Matthew and mistakes?

I perfectly know that I've done wrong at that blasted Garden Party before the war, but...

How can she think that Matthew has broken his engagement because of me? That can't be...

She had to admit that, sometimes, Cousin Isobel could be as unpredictable and irritating as Granny was.