Thanks to my beta, Ariadne0, for all of her hard work on this chapter. Without her input this story wouldn't happen.

Nothing belongs to me. Everything belongs to Julian Fellowes, ITV and Carnival.


Mary had made quick work of moving all of Patrick's things from the study in London and turning the room into her own space. As a result, she felt quite at ease there, or as at ease as she ever felt in her marital home. Despite her surroundings, she was not comfortable with the current conversation and was getting more riled every minute by the odious little man that the male members of her family chose to do business with.

"As I've said, I simply want them out of my properties. They are mine now, aren't they? My husband's estate left them to me?"

"Indeed, my lady, they are yours, but I'm afraid they were left to you in such a way…"

Mary made a noise of incensed frustration and pushed up from the desk, walking behind her chair in an attempt to put more distance between herself and Murray before she actually took a swing at him. "I am sick of the tangled legal webs you men are so fond of creating in order to ensure your continued unchallenged reign in all things. Entails and contracts and legal understandings that are written by men like you to allow your control over women like me, for our own good, I suppose. Why should we women possibly be bothered with the details for such things when clearly they are beyond our limited understanding? I shall put my question in small words that we can both be assured to fully comprehend: how could it be that these houses are mine, but I have no say as to who lives in them?"

"You must understand, Lady Mary, that Mr Crawley sold the lifetime leases to these individuals."

"I do understand that, I have the paperwork here that discusses the transaction; what I am missing are the details. How much did these contracts sell for? How much would I have to pay out to buy them out?"

"Well…erm, you see Lady Mary, that in both cases it was more a-a-a a gesture of good faith, if you will."

"How much?"

"A farthing."

Mary closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose before moving to slump back into her chair, putting her at eye level with Murray. "These people paid Patrick a quarter of a penny to live in my houses for life?"

"Well, yes…of course they pay their annual rents and taxes on the properties as well..."

Mary waved away his excuses. She could get other people to pay rents and taxes on the houses; the point was she wanted these tenants out of her life. "I want them out. I understand the payment for the lifelong tenancy agreement was a gesture and therefore I am prepared to buy them out for considerably more. Make them an offer based on how long they have been in residence, make it an attractive one and get them out."

"I'm afraid you still don't understand. A number of business contracts would have to be dissolved in order for these tenants to move on. These are contracts that bind the late Mr Crawley's estate to the interests of a number of other businessmen, and they are not looking to put an end to the current arrangements."

"Oh, I'm sure they are not," Mary drawled in reply. She leaned over the desk, forcing eye contact with the man opposite, who she was pleased to see squirm at her actions. "Did you know the nature of these… 'business contracts?'"

Murray hesitated and wiped his brow. "Well yes…I acted on behalf of Mr Crawley on their inception. They were long-standing arrangements."

Mary's look of mock surprise as she leaned further over the table made Murray squirm even more. "Long-standing? You are suggesting that these tenants were in place before my marriage? In fact," she pulled a piece of paper from the pile in front of her, "I can see that they were. Why, Hogarth Road has been occupied by the current inhabitant for six years and Avondale Drive was subsequently brought and the tenant found in very short order some four years ago this March."

"Yes. They do bring in some of the money Mr Crawley left to you."

"Those portions of money that I have had diverted straight to my charitable trusts. Back to the matter at hand: these tenants, these business contracts, they were in place prior to my wedding?" She waited for his nod of re-confirmation before continuing, "Yet you did not feel the need to inform my father, another of your employers, of them at that point? Of their existence or their nature? The point at which you were contacted to deal with the legalities of the match?"

He sat back affronted. "My dear Lady Mary, while you find yourself in… some unenviable circumstances, and I am sorry for it, I must insist that you understand that all of my work is undertaken on a confidential basis. I could no more have made you and your father aware of my work for Mr Patrick that I could tell you the contents of your father's will."

She snorted. "I know the contents of my father's will, Mr Murray. He has shared that information with me." She paused. "Mr Murray, I'm afraid I will be looking for other representation in this matter, and I will, over time, be lessening your involvement with my concerns to the point where you no longer represent me in any of my dealings. When I can bring myself to speak to my father of these matters, I will be suggesting that he does the same. Good day to you, sir."


As Mary was dismissing Murray in London, Matthew was welcoming his mother to Crawley House. Thankfully, the new butler that scuttled towards them from the direction of the big house seemed to miss the fact that he had not exited the car at the same time as Isobel, so there were no awkward questions about his stay in the village prior to her arrival.

"I'll just give Mr Taylor a hand with the cases."

Mr Molesley made towards the house before Matthew could make his protestations heard. "I can..."

"Thank you, Molesley." Matthew rolled his eyes and led his mother into her new drawing room.

"Oh, Ellen, this is much better than I thought it would be. You have done well."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Molesley entered the room again and Matthew watched, dismayed, as the man fussed with things that they were perfectly capable of taking care of.

"Would you like this in here, ma'am, or taken up to your room?" Isobel indicated the sideboard and Molesley left the room again. Of course the house was not a particularly large one, and he did not go far. Therefore he overheard much of the conversation that followed between Mrs Crawley and her son.

"Well, he can go right now."

"Why?"

"Because we do not need a butler, or a valet, if it comes to that. I won't let them change me."

"Why would they want to?"

"Mother, Lord Grantham has made the unwelcome discovery that his heir is a middle-class lawyer, and the son of a middle class doctor."

"Upper middle class."

"He wants to limit the damage by turning me into one of his own kind."

Neither of the occupants of the drawing room heard the knock at the door, or the admission of their visitor. The young woman in question did however also hear the rest of the conversation taking place between mother and son as she was led down the short hallway.

"He has little choice in the matter of who you are. You willbe the earl and you will inherit the estate."

"And before they, or you, get any ideas, I will choose my own wife."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"They'll push one of the daughters at me. They'll have fixed on that when they heard I was a bachelor. It's clearly how they were planning to hold onto the riches with the last heir."

Molesley gave Lady Edith a regretful look as he pushed open the door - his new employer clearly had a knack of sticking his foot in his mouth - but Edith took it easily in her stride. It was obvious to her that poor Mr Crawley was overwhelmed by the move and the news of his entitlement. Her mother and grandmother were right to send her to welcome him; after all, he hadn't even met anyone other than Papa yet. Of course he was wary of them, but he would learn how nice they were. Everyone currently present at Downton, anyway.

"Lady Edith Crawley." Edith entered when announced and took in the pleasant older woman along with her blushing son. He was fair and tall and not at all like Patrick except in the eyes, and Edith was instantly captivated by his pretty blue eyes. She too blushed, and looked away coyly as she shook hands, not accustomed to being in the position of family spokesperson, particularly not with people that looked like him.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting; you really must be busy."

His mother stepped forward in welcome. "Lady Edith..."

"You must call me Cousin Edith, or just Edith, please. Mama has sent me down to welcome you and to ask you dine with us tonight. Unless you're too tired, of course." She turned slightly to give Cousin Matthew a sweet smile; clearly he was tired and irritable.

Matthew smiled back in relief; clearly she hadn't heard him or hadn't taken his meaning, otherwise surely she would have taken offence. Of course, he guiltily reasoned to himself, it was only actually offensive if it was not true, and from the look of their welcoming committee, he felt he should have carried his point with his mother. He turned his smile on her with raised brows.

Isobel tried desperately not to smile at her son's knowing expression; she acknowledged his point but wanted to refrain from encouraging him. She turned once more to Edith. "Will you stay and have some tea?"

"I'd be delighted." She certainly looked it.


Later, Cora quizzed Edith as they descended to meet their new family members for dinner. "So what are they like?"

"She's nice enough, but he's…oh Mama, he's so charming."

Her mother grinned widely and gripped Edith's elbow. "Really? Why do you say that?"

Edith blushed and smiled back. "Let's go down, and you can see for yourself!"

"Well, your grandmother will be pleased you are getting along so well, and so am I. I expected them to delay joining us for dinner until tomorrow at the earliest so to have them come to dinner on their first night means you must have done very well today, my darling." Edith beamed at the often sought but rarely received praise from her mother.


"Do you think you'll enjoy village life? It'll be very quiet after life in the city." Robert was very pleased with how the evening was going so far. It would be perfect if his mother could restrain herself.

"Even Manchester." Violet tittered to herself, scoffing gently at Isobel's answer to her son's inquiry.

"I'm sure I'll find something to keep me busy."

"You might like the hospital."

Matthew smiled to see his mother engaging with the family. She had enjoyed Edith's visit earlier and Cousin Cora's suggestion for filling her days would suit her to a T. Helping at the village's cottage hospital would be a valuable contribution, as long as she could remember that she would never simply be thought of as Matron in this village.

A footman interrupted his contemplation of what his mother would do with her time in. "I will hold it steady and you can help yourself, sir."

"Yes, I know. Thank you."

"Really Thomas, I'm sure Cousin Matthew can manage."

"Thank you, Cousin Edith. I am accustomed to a different life than this, it's true, but I can serve myself at dinner." He gave her a grateful smile.

"What will you do with your time?" Sybil asked thoughtfully. The young girl had already fitted more questions about the law into their initial three-minute introductory conversation than Matthew would have thought possible. She had slowed down her interrogation over dinner, but he got the impression she would be the only person present to approve of his decision.

"I've got a job in Ripon. I said I'll start tomorrow."

"A job?" He was completely right; while Sybil beamed at him, the rest of the table, aside from his mother, looked horrified.

"In a partnership. You might have heard of it, Harvell and Carter. They need someone who understands industrial law, I'm glad to say. Although I'm afraid most of it will be wills and conveyancing."

"You do know I mean to involve you in the running of the estate?" Robert asked, still not completely hiding his horror at the announcement.

"Well, don't worry. There are plenty of hours in the day. And of course I'll have the weekend."

"We'll discuss this later. We mustn't bore the ladies."

"What is a weekend?" Matthew smirked and looked away. Cousin Violet was a pill, but then he wasn't entirely sure if she was joking.

"You don't have other plans for your weekends?" Edith interjected. Matthew gave her a quizzical smile, not sure what she was asking. "Do you not have hobbies or interests?"

"Ah, well, of course. I like to read, and I like to be out of doors. I'm going to be taking an interest in the estate, obviously," he raised his glass to Lord Grantham, "but I'd also like to learn more about the village and wider area."

"Well, I could always help…" Edith was cut off by Sybil's exuberance and Matthew turned in his chair to face his excitable cousin. Edith was momentarily disheartened, but with encouraging looks from her grandmother and mother, she attended to the conversation next to her.

"What sort of things do you like to read?"

"Well, I quite like the work of Mr Dickens - he inspired my interest in the law actually - but my guilty pleasure is Greek mythology which I have loved since I was a child."

Edith thought she saw another opening and took it before Sybil could distract him further. "You mean like the stories of Romulus and Remus?"

Matthew brought his serviette to his mouth to cover his smile but Sybil, in her guileless youth, was not as subtle in correcting her sister.

"Oh Edith, those are the Roman mythologies, even I know that."

Matthew felt bad for the poor girl; she was clearly trying to be friendly and take an interest. "Well that's true, Sybil, but really, many of the characters and stories are roughly the same, having been co-opted by both traditions. It's a very easy mistake to make."

"You'll have to forgive Edith and me, Cousin Matthew, our tastes run more to Austen and Elliot, and that's only when we're looking for a challenging read. Mary is our classicist, indeed our literary scholar. You'll have to talk to her about your choices when she gets back from London. Papa says her reading of Greek and Latin surpassed his schoolboy accomplishments when she was twelve."

"Ah yes, Lady Mary. She's in London you say?" Matthew had a mental image of a bookish young woman; a cross between Edith's gentle, fair prettiness, and Sybil's swarthy, voluptuous beauty. The visage wasn't a complete success in his mind's eye, and he wondered if Mary was the plain sister, married young by virtue of being the eldest and to secure family ties. "Will we be meeting her soon?"

Lady Grantham answered him from across the table. "I should hope so. Mary is of course still in mourning for her late husband and did not feel it entirely appropriate to be meeting new people at this time."

His mother, in her sympathy, answered for both of them, "Of course we understand. The poor girl was quite recently bereaved after all. "

Matthew didn't miss the significant look that passed between Sybil and Edith on either side of him, nor the fact that Edith sat further back in her chair at the mention of her sister, pouting in a thoroughly petulant manner. "Yes, of course. Mother and I look forward to meeting her on her return." Particularly if its mere mention could produce this sort of reaction, he thought, amused.


After dinner, Robert settled in with Matthew, his port and cigars for the duration. Their talk that evening would be a long one, and neither saw it ending before it would be time for Matthew to collect his mother to make their way back to the village.

"I understand that you have already taken a look around the estate."

Matthew looked somewhat abashed and dropped his gaze.

"Come, come Matthew, it's quite alright. To be honest, it makes me very happy that you wanted to see the place and get an eye for the challenge ahead of you. Perkins, my game-keeper, saw you yesterday at the east pond. What were your initial impressions?"

"I'm afraid this evening is the first time I've set eyes on the house itself. In my wanderings, I mainly kept to the outer lands and tenant properties."

"Yes, of course. Didn't want to be rumbled being up here before your time, eh."

"Well, quite."

"And your thoughts on what you did see?"

"Very favourable. I saw some of the renovations that you have undertaken at the tenant farms and was told that there is a larger programme of work in development."

"Yes, I'm rather proud of it, to be honest. I'm afraid I had been rather neglectful in that respect until quite recently, but the new scheme of work should vastly improve the lifestyle of the tenants, and a happy workforce on the land can only be a good thing for Downton."

"Indeed. What prompted your re-interest in them, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all. It was the marriage of my daughter, Mary, actually. A number of changes were suggested, and I thought they could only add to the success of the place.

"I'm very sorry that you should have lost such a proactive heir. I can only hope to do half as well."

"Oh, it wasn't Patrick who suggested the changes; at least, not directly. Patrick was in and out of this house since the day he was born, but he took very little interest in it. No, it was Mary who was the driving force behind the changes. I'm sure some of her good sense would have rubbed off on Patrick in the long run, particularly when the time came for him to take up my mantle, but he was still young. He enjoyed his life in London, and to be honest, he was a bit of a fop."

Matthew was somewhat surprised, not only by this information, but also the implications. "Really? So it was Lady Mary who initiated the work on the cottages. It seems that Downton would have had a fierce protector in her, had she been allowed to inherit. I wonder that you didn't challenge the entail in her favour."

"Not the done thing, I'm afraid, my boy. Just not the done thing. Mary would have made a fine countess, but really, the place needs a firm hand."

The conversation moved on to other matters but Matthew recalled his earlier musings about the disparate impressions he received from the upkeep of the cottages and his initial meeting with the man before him. He had pegged him right after all- there was no breakaway liberal here. His sympathies lay with the forward thinking Lady Mary, a woman he was increasingly interested in meeting.


Thanks for all the great reviews on the last chapter, they really do make my day, so let me know what you think.

I'm going to try and have M and M meet before Christmas, but it may be a couple of days afterwards. Thanks for reading.