It seemed to Mary that Matthew was avoiding talking to her. And looking at her. And having anything to do with her. They'd been getting along so well recently and she couldn't understand why every time he accidently met her gaze or was forced to address her in anyway it was suddenly so awkward, the air between them bristling with tension.
She'd given up hope a long time ago that they could ever be together as it was made brutally clear the moment that he brought Lavinia to Downton Abbey that he was no longer in love with her, nor would he ever be again. She'd accepted this reality and instead took solace in their friendship and by doing whatever she could to make him happy. When that meant encouraging him and Lavinia she did so without hesitation, but certainly with quite a bit of suppressed emotional pain.
So in regard to Matthew's distant behavior with her tonight she was unsure whether it saddened her or made her angry. Her week had been dreadful enough, thank you very much. First an attempted rape, a successful blackmail and now the most important person to her was refusing to look her in the eyes. In light of all that had occurred recently she was definitely feeling more inclined towards rage than saddness.
The night wore on slowly. Granny and Cousin Isobel bickered, Sybil chatted pleasantly about her work, the same story of any other Crawley family dinner. The tension between Mary and Matthew was palpable only to Edith, who knew the reasons behind it better than both of them. As everyone began saying their goodnights and filing out of the room Edith caught Matthew's eye and flicked her gaze in Mary's direction indicating that he should speak with her. His eyes widened in fear which Edith returned with a look of exasperation before rushing out of the room, cutting Mary off at the door giving him and Mary a chance to speak with privacy.
"Mary," Matthew said, his voice a tad bit higher than usual, "will you stay for a moment? I'm not quite ready to end the evening and I could use some company."
She stared at him blankly in confusion for a few seconds before answering, "I suppose," her frustration clear in her tone.
"Ahhh... how are you," he began awkwardly, "How are things with your fiancée? You seemed upset last night when he visited."
She had been closely observing the floor, but at his words her eyes darted up quickly her expression one mixed of anger and fear.
She put on her best fake smile and said, "Everything is splendid, what makes you think it isn't."
Mary's ability to hide her emotions must've been worn down by the trauma of wartime, because it was clear to Matthew that she was lying. Or perhaps he just knew her too well after all these years.
"Don't lie to me Mary," he said, his gaze penetrating Her pretend smile melted off her face and she fearfully wondered how much he knew, but before she could seriously contemplate on it he continued, "Don't play games with me, I don't deserve it. Not from you."
A single tear streamed down her cheek at those haunting words and she began to shake her head, as if so no to the reality that this conversation was finally happening.