A/N: Greetings! I am sorry for the slight delay in this chapter, I have been so ridiculously busy that I have had no time to dedicate to it. But now, I am ill, and this has given me an excuse to knock out the next chapter for you all.
Yada-yada-yada - without further ado, here is it for you all! I am sorry for how this is significantly less-fluffy than previous chapters, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. :)
Love to you all, I love you!
Chapter Three
26th December 1923
For the first few months after the announcement, I would sit in the library with your Mama and let everyone wonder over the prospect of you for hours on end; it filled us both with such joy and excitement! It especially amused us when your Grandmamas would bicker over the tiniest little details, from the colour of your nursery to the arrangements for the baby shower – though after a while, your Mama did grow quite tired of it all.
I worried so much about your Mama; you know, at times, you really made her quite ill. But you are not to be blamed for such a thing; she endured the sickness with a smile and a swift brush away of her tears, because she knew you would be worth it. So very worth it... I was always with her, always with you both.
Before I knew it, five months had passed, and we had just two more months left to wait to meet you.
October 22nd 1923
Matthew was awoken by a frantic rustling of the covers and a cool breeze made by the suddenly empty space beside him, which sent shivers down his back where he lay. Oh my Mary, he thought to himself with a worried frown, as he sat up, snatching up his dressing gown and padding over to the bathroom door. Left half-ajar, he could hear his wife being violently ill, something that had been happening every single day for the past three months. Was this normal? He mused, he knew nothing about these things – but from what Isobel and Cora, and sometimes Violet had been commenting, that yes it was quite a normal occurrence. Sighing heavily, he pushed the door open and sunk to his knees on the cold marble floor beside Mary, who was desperately clutching at the toilet bowl.
"Matthew..." she croaked, lifting her head slightly, before the overwhelming nausea engulfed her throat again and her head flew forward as she was violently ill once again.
"Sssh, ssshh, my darling... don't try to speak." Matthew rubbed his hand in soothing circles between her shoulders and pressed a cool hand to her burning forehead, he was her pillar of strength when she most needed it.
It was times like this when he wished he could take the burden from her and bear the pain himself. He hated to see her so weak and vulnerable – it was just everything that Mary wasn't. His head-strong, determined and strong spirited Mary, who over the last few months had withered away into anything but that. He could think of no other way to help her, and it troubled him greatly.
As the sickness finally released its grasp on Mary, Matthew took her up in his arms and helped her back into bed. This day, above all else, Matthew noticed how weak she was – she felt lighter despite her condition, and she was showing more and more signs of fatigue. He needed to do something about it.
Tucking the sheets around her and kissing her tenderly on the forehead, he left the room and went downstairs to call for Dr Clarkson.
"Good morning, Mr Crawley. I hope you and Lady Mary are well..." Molesly began, as he swept from the kitchen at the familiar sound of his master's footsteps.
"I am well, thank you Molesly. But I'm afraid Lady Mary is still quite unwell." Matthew replied; his brow furrowed at the regularity of this conversation. "Would you mind calling for Dr Clarkson to come as soon as he is able?"
"Of course, sir," Molesly nodded and made his way to the telephone.
Matthew waited in the dining room which overlooked the front garden; not wishing to disturb Mary from her much needed sleep, and to greet Clarkson as soon as he would arrive.
After long, the gate at the end of the garden creaked open and Clarkson began to make his way up the path to Crawley House. Matthew jumped up from his seat and swung into the hallway, opening the door and wasting no time in briefing the doctor on Mary's current condition. After a flurry of steadying words from Clarkson and a few deep breaths, Matthew led him up to their bedroom.
Creeping over to the bedside and leaning over her, Matthew whispered into her ear, "Mary...? Mary darling, Dr Clarkson is here."
"Matthew..." her eyes flicked open and he could only see one thing: fear. She gripped his arm weakly – the look on her face tore at his heart, "Matthew, please, stay with me."
"Of course I will, I'm right here," he pulled up a seat from behind him and kissed her hand gently, rubbing his fingers over hers reassuringly. He distractedly stroked back the stray hairs that covered her pasty face, as Dr Clarkson made busy work of unpacking the contents of his medical kit.
"Lady Mary, how are you feeling?" Clarkson ventured, gaining a raised eyebrow from Matthew, who had thought he had himself quite clear on arrival.
Mary nodded, "I've felt better."
"I believe you have been ill for quite a while now. The usual period of time in which morning sickness strikes is the first trimester, and you are actually near beginning the third. Do you mind if I examine you?"
Mary squirmed, already feeling uncomfortable as it was, and to be perfectly honest, the idea did not sound too appealing to her. She then looked over at Matthew, who gazed at her with his bright blue eyes, swathed in worry, and reluctantly nodded for Clarkson to proceed.
"Mr Crawley, would you prefer to wait outsi-"
"No thank you, Dr Clarkson. I would much prefer to stay with my wife, if that's alright." Matthew affirmed, smiling back at Mary supportively.
"As you wish," Clarkson began the examination and Mary shut her eyes against his intrusive methods.
All of the apparatus left Matthew wondering quite what he was going to do with it all, but averted his eyes for most of it, fixing his attention solely on comforting his wife. He was so proud of her; she was carrying their child and bringing a new life into the world. Pride swelled in his heart for his dear girl, for all she was doing for him and he felt so small in her presence – she really is quite wonderful.
Clarkson suddenly retreated from the bed, returning with a primitive kind of stethoscope which he placed on Mary's large belly – his brow furrowing as he shifted one end of it up and down. Matthew studied his every movement with a determined gaze, which set Mary on-edge.
"Matthew? W-what is it?" she asked nervously.
Sensing her worry and discomfort, he released Clarkson from his gaze and stroked her head, offering her a small smile and shake of his head, "Nothing, nothing at all, my dear."
With a deep intake of breath, Clarkson straightened up and retreated to the other side of the room and began packing away his apparatus.
"Mr Crawley, I wondered if I might speak to you for a moment," he said, gesturing for the door.
"Of course," Matthew nodded and gave Mary a soft kiss, "I'll be back in a minute, I promise."
She released his hand and watched as the two men left the room, the door clicking closed behind them.
Matthew's throat constricted with worry, please don't let it be the flu, he begged. All of the emotions he had pushed to the back of his memory from that one evening at the Abbey, the evening the Spanish flu had gripped so many of his close ones. The night that Lavinia had succumbed to the illness, weak and helpless and alone – he couldn't bear it all over again. He could not lose Mary. He couldn't lose her! Not now. He wouldn't be able to bear it! And what for the baby? He began to feel tears swell in his eyes and he wished the doctor would put him out of his misery.
"Dr Clarkson, please tell me what it is. Is there something wrong with the baby?"
"No, Mr Crawley. The baby seems perfectly alright to me, it has a very strong heartbeat..."
Matthew breathed a sigh of relief; "Oh, thank goodness!" before meeting the doctor's wandering eyes again. It was obvious that he had not yet told him the whole story. "Well, what is wrong then?" Desperate for answers, Matthew's patience was beginning to run extremely short with the doctor.
"It is... Lady Mary's condition, I am more worried about, Mr Crawley," he stumbled and continued, sensing Matthew's growing unease. "She has become very weak. The morning sickness is the most extensive I have ever seen, but I do feel that that is all it is, morning sickness – nothing else."
Matthew let out an audible sigh of relief, passing his hand over his face as to rid his worry. "So, surely this is normal? Then what was it that you felt you could not say to me in front of my wife?"
Clarkson swallowed and rested a hand on Matthew's arm, "Mr Crawley. I fear... I fear that she may not be strong enough, when the time comes... if she does not recover soon and regain some of her strength."
It hit Matthew like a bullet in the heart; deep, piercing and unmistakably distressing. "Is there anything you can do? How – how... can I help her?" His eyes searched the doctor's face frantically looking for answers, but to no avail.
"I'm afraid, Mr Crawley, that there is nothing much else I, or you, can do. She must regain her energy; a lot of rest, food and fluids... In all likelihood, the birth will be without complication..."
"But...?" Matthew interjected.
"But I would rather be safe than sorry, Mr Crawley. I'm sure you can understand. Now, if you need me again you know where to call – make sure she gets lots of rest, and I'll see you very soon."
Matthew's face dropped, feeling once again, completely and utterly useless. He nodded in acknowledgement, before thanking the doctor for his visit and bidding him farewell.
Under the old oak tree that stood proudly in the centre of the back garden, Matthew sat on their bench with his head in his hands. He wept. The tears would not cease from streaming down his cheeks, although he did not try to stop them. The grief that had suddenly overwhelmed him was like as if a black curtain had been drawn in front of his eyes and he could not see past it, could not see his future past this looming wall of darkness. He battled against the frightening thoughts that filled his head, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his palms vigorously over his eyes.
How long have I been sitting here? He immediately jolted up from the bench, ridding his face of the tracks of his tears and breathing deeply to calm his anxiety. I promised I'd be back in a minute. Matthew quickened his pace as he ran back into the house, not wanting to be away from Mary for a second longer than he had to.
As he entered the hallway, he caught a glimpse of her at the top of the stairs.
"Mary!" he exclaimed, as he bounded up the staircase, "You must stay in bed, my darling."
"I'm pregnant, Matthew, not an invalid!" she sighed, but he seemed far from his usual joking self and it worried her.
His grip firmly around her waist, he led her back into their bedroom and onto the bed. "You really must get all the rest you can."
"Matthew... what was Clarkson talking to you about?"
"There we are, back into bed."
"Matthew...?"
"I'll get Anna to bring you a tray -"
"Matthew Crawley, will you listen to me!" she yelled, and his eyes shot open at her with surprise. Mary flinched at the sudden activity in her belly as a result of her shouting and Matthew almost jumped out of his skin.
"What? What is it? What's wrong?" he said, frantically shifting on his feet.
"Nothing, Matthew... it's nothing. Baby just got a bit upset..." She regarded him with accusing eyes, before adding in a much softer tone of voice, "Please Matthew, tell me what Clarkson said."
His breath caught in his throat. What right had he to withhold this information? It was about her after all! But, maybe if he told her, she would worry more. Maybe she would feel worse and wouldn't regain as much as her strength... He shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He was her husband – he was supposed to protect her from harm. But how could he protect her from harm, when it grew within her – and it was his fault for putting it there. Had he unknowingly condemned his wife to this possible fate? Matthew suddenly despised the force within her that was making her so weak, which was taking his Mary away from him – just when they had found happiness. He couldn't believe it, but he wished it gone. Wished it to leave them alone and rid her of its hurt. Matthew only wanted Mary, his Mary, and nothing else. But the tables had turned and he found himself faced with a decision if the time came... Mary.
Matthew took a deep breath and looked into Mary's eyes. "Clarkson said... that he is worried you are not eating enough, and that you are not getting enough rest." He hadn't lied, but it wasn't the whole truth – that he knew.
"Oh..." she breathed. "Is that all?" Matthew nodded. "Well then, you needn't sound worried Matthew – we'll be fine." Mary smiled, as she lifted her hand from underneath the covers and stroked it gently across her belly.
Matthew's eyes immediately darted to her hand, rubbing so slowly and tenderly over the sheets, he felt an urge to pull her arm away, to shake her up and tell her all that he felt. That he loved her, more than anything else in the world! That she was the only one he wanted – that he didn't care for... if it was going to take her away from him. But he would not, because he needed to stay strong for her and because he had a duty to her as her husband. Are you a creature of duty?
Mary looked over at face, deep in thought and she cupped his cheek, taking his hand and placing it where hers lay on her bump.
"Not long now, my darling." She whispered with a beaming smile.
Matthew felt like he was going to be sick.
26th December 1923
For what should be an exciting, joy-filled time for prospective parents, I was not able to suppress the fear and anxiety that began to churn in my stomach. I had to be strong, you see... I had not once lied to your Mama, until this day – I thought it would be the most loving thing to do. I felt so terrible for the thoughts that I so selfishly allowed to translate into my actions around her, but love leads you to do the most foolish things. You will understand this more when you are older.
To lie to those you love, for the lesser evil. I hope you'll forgive me that one time, my darling.
A/N: Uh oh, Matthew's having bad thoughts about the baby... what can this lead to, you ask? You'll just have to wait and see! Thank you for reading, and reviews are like the jam in doughnuts to me! :)
