A/N: So when I said you'd get an epic Matthew/Mary scene in this chapter, I lied. Sorry about that! Instead you get a chapter that is both, in my opinion, rather long and rather dull. Hopefully, I will be proved wrong though! All I can say is that there will be lots and lots of Matthew in the next chapter and as there is absolutely nothing between the end of this one and the beginning of the next, there is absolutely no way I can be wrong about this! Once again, thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read comment on this. It really means a lot to me and I value every review!

Chapter Four: What Women Want

While Mary was left mostly on her own to make a free and informed choice between being, as her mother put it, a "silly and ungrateful girl" and an "intelligent young lady", plans for the trip to Italy proceeded apace. The boat tickets had already been booked for her, the dowager countess and Violet's maid. With the dates of their crossing established, Lord Grantham in consultation with his mother turned his attention to hotels in Paris, where they were to break the journey for a week, and then to the destinations in Italy.

At this point Lady Rosamund somehow got wind of the plans and sent gushing letters to her brother, sister-in-law, mother and niece, providing rather out of date information on the best place to find glass in Venice, the best restaurant in Rome, the best phrases to use when accosted by strange men and so on. Mary devoured these chatty and informative letters from her aunt and poured over the unfamiliar, foreign names with more eagerness than she displayed to the rest of her family. Lady Rosamund knew the kind of thing likely to appeal to a young person of Mary's situation and temperament and in return her niece trusted her judgement. In this way, Rosamund was of more assistance to her brother in the persuasion of Mary than she was ever given credit for.

The project was soon widely known and discussed through the household and village, mainly due to Sybil's unreserved enthusiasm for it.

"Doesn't your ladyship wish you were going as well as Lady Mary?" Branson could not help asking her one day as he drove her to the library in Ripon, after she had treated him to an excited monologue on how lovely it would be to see the leaning tower of Pisa and what a shame it was they were not going in the summer as then Mary could have seen the Pallio in Siena, which she would have been sure to like.

Sybil actually considered this for the first time. "No," she said eventually. "I suppose I ought to be desperately jealous like Edith, but I'm not. Perhaps I might have been last year or even next year, but there is so much else going on this year that I am simply happy to enjoy it by proxy."

He glanced up at her. "You mean your season?"

"Yes, I suppose so, among other things. But I am tremendously excited about the season and that will require a great deal of preparation. Mama would never let me go away."

He replied only half joking, "I thought you were more interested in serious matters!"

"Believe me, Branson, we take the season very seriously!" she laughed, and met his eye briefly in the mirror.

Apart from the fact that nobody spent much time asking Mary what she thought about it, everything was going well until, about three weeks before they were due to leave, crisis struck from the most unexpected source.

Miss Simmons, the dowager countess' maid, had apparently been quite ready to accompany her mistress abroad but now, without any warning, she handed in her notice, declared that she had no intention whatsoever of leaving the country and putting herself at the mercy of those dreadful, dirty furriners and moreover was getting married.

Violet, in high dudgeon, rushed immediately to the Abbey to complain to her daughter-in-law.

"That's too inconsiderate of her!" said Cora sympathetically, pouring a restorative cup of tea. "What did she mean by springing it on you in this way?"

"She said," replied the dowager in tones that suggested exactly what she thought of Simmons' excuse, "that it took her some time to bring him to the point and that she was not so stupid as to leave a good position before acquiring a better. I ask you! Did you ever hear the like?"

"It is very vexing. Does she not know how difficult it is to get a decent ladies' maid nowadays? I do not know what I should do without O'Brien."

"Well, I think you will have to do without her, my dear. Mary and I cannot possibly go to Italy without a maid and I do not know how I shall find a replacement for Simmons at such short notice."

The countess held her cup suspended between the table and her mouth and opened her eyes very wide. "I very much hope you are not suggesting I lend you O'Brien!"

The dowager cleared her throat, raised one eyebrow and fixed her with a challenging glare which her daughter-in-law met with equal firmness.

Eventually, tiring of the silent battle, Cora replaced her cup on its saucer and said politely enough, "You may take Anna. I suppose it would be easier to find a temporary replacement for her."

"A housemaid!"

"Yes, and she looks after all my daughters and does it beautifully. You have surely never had anything to object to there."

As Violet had never noticed anything lacking in her granddaughters' presentation (except Sybil's extraordinary get-up that one time and Anna could hardly be blamed for that), she could not hold out any further objections.

Mrs. Hughes was consulted and that very evening Anna was informed of her good fortune. She received the news of her promotion with calm acceptance and gratitude and was so overwhelmed by joy that she hardly spoke all evening.

The following morning, as Sybil made her way along the upstairs corridor, she almost walked into Gwen, who was just leaving one of the bedrooms and had her head down and did not see her.

"Oh!" cried Sybil, taking hold of Gwen's arms to steady her before they collided. "Whatever's the matter? You're crying!"

Gwen blushed and shook her head, stepping back. "No, not at all!"

"You are!" insisted Sybil. "You're upset. Come here!"

She manoeuvred Gwen into the nearest room, shut the door behind them and then sat down on the bed next to her and put her arm round her shoulders.

"Now, Gwen, you can't pretend to me. What has happened?"

Gwen shook her head silently.

"Is it to do with the job? Because there will be more, I know it, and I won't stop looking for you, I promise."

"No, my lady, it's not the job," replied Gwen finally and sighed.

Sybil bit her lip and studied her. "What then? Please tell me."

After a long pause in which Gwen appeared to be weighing up her options, she eventually sighed again and raised her eyes to Sybil's. "Well, it's not really the job. Only you know as how Anna is to go to Italy with Lady Mary and the dowager countess-"

Sybil nodded.

"Well, she's mopin' about as if someone's died. In fact, even more so!"

"Why doesn't she want to go?"

"Oh, it's not my place to say!" answered Gwen immediately but on her mistress continuing to look insistently at her added, "That is, I did talk to her a bit last night. She is so fond of Downton and of –of the people here that I think she does not want to leave. She would miss them too much."

Gwen almost felt as if she were betraying Anna's confidence even by saying this much and hoped Lady Sybil would not press her further.

"That's very sweet of her and a good reason not to go." Better than some reasons anyway. "I suppose you will miss her," she added.

"Very much, my lady! She's like a sister."

"Yes, I shall miss Mary too," replied Sybil quietly, looking away for a moment. Amidst her excitement, she had not really thought of what it would be like to remain at Downton without Mary, and with only Edith for company. Rather lonely, she was inclined to think. For all her prickliness, Mary was her closest ally at home. Of course, Mary would marry one day, or she would. A trial separation was certainly for the best.

They were silent for a moment, then Gwen, who was calmer now, mused, "I suppose it just seems so unfair that she should have this great chance to travel but she doesn't value it, when there are others who would."

She had not meant to be so obvious, but Sybil understood her instantly, reflecting that this was a popular attitude at the moment.

"Do you wish you were going instead of Anna, is that it?"

Gwen blushed. "Well, no, not exactly instead of her, because it's not my place, but I couldn't help thinkin' that it would be wonderful to go and- and that I might learn so much."

Sybil nodded. "Indeed you would!"

"I have to face it, I'm not goin' to get a job as a secretary any time soon – I'm simply not good enough." She continued wistfully over Sybil's murmured protest, "I did wonder though if it might improve my chances of gettin' somethin' if I could say in the application that I'd been abroad, especially if I learned a bit of Italian. But I know I'm not goin' and Anna is, though she doesn't want to." She looked down at her lap, resigned.

Sybil had been frowning to an increasing extent as Gwen spoke. By the time she had finished speaking, she had reached a conclusion.

"You have to go to Italy!"

Gwen looked up at her. "My lady, how?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I think you should!" She removed her arm from round Gwen's shoulder and grasped both her hands. "Listen, I don't see why you shouldn't go if you want to. There is every good reason for you to go and every bad one for Anna to go!"

"Apart from the fact that she is a ladies' maid and I don't know the first thing about it!"

"You know, I expect you do even if you think you don't, and anyway, you have plenty of time to learn – it's only brushing hair and sewing; I'm sure your current work is harder!"

Gwen looked unconvinced. She had a rather better idea of what was involved than Lady Sybil seemed to.

"I'm sure if you really wanted it, you could learn anything!" added Sybil enthusiastically.

"I don't know about that, my lady, but supposing you were right, how on earth would you persuade them to take me?"

Sybil's face assumed a rather mulish expression as she plotted. "Leave all that to me!" She stood up, still holding her friend's hands and grinned suddenly. "I shall arrange it all. Just promise me that you will go along with whatever is suggested!"

There was nothing that energised Sybil more than a new project. She whirled towards the door, not giving Gwen much opportunity to reply. As a parting shot, she cried, "And have some biscuits before you go back to work – none of us ever eat them!"

Leaving Gwen, Sybil knew exactly what to do.

She found Mary sitting outside on the bench under the ancient Lebanon cedar with a book. She looked up and smiled at her sister when she saw her coming round from the house.

"Hello! What brings you out here?"

Sybil was still full of enthusiasm for her latest scheme, for she had been considering her plan of campaign as she made her way outside. "You, actually. I thought I'd find you here. May I sit down?"

Mary nodded and raised her eyebrows. "Me? Whatever do you mean?"

Sybil sat down and was about to start speaking when she noticed the book. "What are you reading?"

Mary held it out to her with a ghost of a smile. Sybil looked at the spine: Baedeker's Florence.

Her sister understood the question without needing to be asked. "Florence is a fascinating city to read about whether I decide to go or not!"

Sybil grinned. "Of course it is! I want to ask you a favour, Mary."

"What is it?" she replied warily.

"I want you to take Gwen with you instead of Anna!"

Mary stared at her. "Why?"

"Because she wants to go."

"You mean, you want her to go, which is a different thing altogether."

Sybil laughed fondly at her. "No, she told me herself that she wants to go."

"You seem to know a great deal about the feelings of a housemaid, Sybil," observed Mary, evading the issue.

"Aren't Gwen's feelings just as valid as yours or mine? Isn't she allowed to want things?"

"That's not enough to make things happen. We're women, Sybil; we don't get what we want!"

"How can our lives ever be improved if women themselves actually have that attitude? I don't see why Gwen shouldn't get what she wants," cried Sybil passionately, adding darkly, "Somebody ought to!"

Mary could not help smiling rather sadly at that, but the point hit home. "You can't expect Granny to agree to take Gwen. She's upset enough at the though of putting up with Anna."

"She'd agree if you asked her, if you made it a condition of your acceptance," said Sybil slyly. "What do you say?"

Mary raised her eyebrows, impressed in spite of herself, though she was careful not to say anything at all encouraging. "I say that as romantic as the idea of giving a housemaid the trip of a lifetime may be, I foresee a great deal of inconvenience in employing an untrained maid as a ladies' maid."

"But she can be trained! She taught herself to type all by herself – of course she can learn how to be a ladies' maid."

"In three weeks? Really, Sybil?"

"I'm sure she can do it. Please, Mary, you don't have to agree to anything now, but can you just promise me one thing?"

"That sounds a lot like agreeing!"

"All I am asking is that you give her a chance. Let her help Anna get us ready for dinner tonight, and then see if Mama or Papa notices the difference when we go downstairs. If she really can't do it then I won't press it." She smiled persuasively. "I promise!"

Mary squeezed her hand. "Very well, darling. There can be no harm in seeing how she does, I suppose."

Immediately Sybil was all smiles as she jumped up again from the chair. "Thank you, thank you! You're the best sister I could imagine!"

Mary raised one eyebrow at this but did not challenge it, but as Sybil was moving away she suddenly called after her, "Sybil, what do you want, if all this is what Gwen wants?"

She stopped and turned round. "Oh, many things! I want women to be able to vote and stand for parliament and have jobs, I want to be able to go to places when I want to without asking permission, I want to dance at my ball and fall in love one day – but I don't think those things are so important really."

"No? Most women would say that nothing is more important."

"Anyone can fall in love, Mary, but not anyone can change the world!" replied Sybil with happy confidence. "What do you want then? I don't think anyone knows that!"

Her sister laughed rather bitterly. "What do I want? Ah, Sybil, I'm not sure about that myself, and if I was, who would listen?"

"I'd listen!"

"You are a darling!" she replied, not really believing her. "You know, I feel smothered sometimes, Sybil, as if – as if my very voice were taken away." Her hand went to her throat as she stared intently at the ground, as if these feelings were somehow physical. "Silenced, like the nightingale in the myth. When I speak, nobody listens and so what is the point of speaking at all? Sometimes I am not convinced I even know what I am thinking!" She sighed, coming back to the present and looking anxiously up at her sister again. "Do you ever feel that way?"

Sybil frowned at her. "No. No, I always know what I am thinking!"

Mary sighed again. She remembered being as certain as Sybil was but, as with all phases, she had eventually grown out of it. "Well, you better get on. Don't you have a world to change?"

Sybil knew she did not mean the mocking tone that had crept all unawares into her voice. "Well, I am only starting small for now!"

As she walked away, she could not help thinking that Mary would probably be happier if she took part in the women's rights movement and turned to recommend some pamphlets she had on the subject, but Baedeker was open once more and she did not dare interrupt again.

That evening, Sybil persuaded her sisters to go up and dress half an hour early to give Gwen time to observe and learn in an unhurried environment. She watched Anna dress Mary and Edith and do their hair, but then Sybil insisted that she tried for herself.

Gwen's hands trembled as, under Anna's supervision, she did up the hooks and eyes on the back of her mistress' dress, knowing that all eyes were on her, but she only dropped something once, and picked it up with flaming cheeks only to meet Sybil's encouraging smile in the mirror. She felt a little calmer after this.

Edith watched critically from the bed and eventually commented, "If Gwen can replaced Anna just like that simply because she wants to go, I really don't see why I should not replace Mary in a similar way!"

"Ah, but I don't think you would be able to replace me even with three weeks training!" retorted Mary without really trying.

"I should think it would be an improvement without the training!"

It was too far beneath Mary's dignity to reply to this and she paced to the window, looking out across the parkland as it stretched away towards the village, her mind's eye following the drive all the way to Crawley House. None of them had seen anything of cousin Matthew for several weeks now, not since the disastrous dinner after their argument. She thought about him sometimes, though not as often as she might have done without Italy. She repented the split between them but since he was the one avoiding her, was not sure what she could do about it. Presumably she would see him again before they left (if they left), but it was not a meeting she was anticipating with pleasure.

"How do I look then?" cried Sybil, standing up and twirling.

"One moment, my lady," said Anna, reaching up to tuck back an errant curl.

Sybil looked very pretty indeed and everyone said so. Downstairs at dinner, nobody was aware of any difference in presentation between her and her sisters and there was general astonishment that Gwen could have done so well. Her mother even promised to consider the issue and discuss it with Mrs. Hughes.

Later, Sybil confided to Gwen that she thought she had done brilliantly. "And if you can deal with Edith, then Granny won't present any problems!"

Sybil got her way, of course, especially when she found an unexpected ally in Miss O'Brien. Upon discovering that with Anna gone she would be responsible for looking after Edith and Sybil as well as her mistress, she was only too enthusiastic to espouse any cause that would avoid this undesirable outcome. With O'Brien persuading the countess and Sybil working on her father, the result was almost inevitable but, as she had anticipated, it was Mary who held the casting vote.

One day as she sat taking tea with her grandmother and listening to her talk about all the things they were going to do without reacting very much to anything, as the dowager paused to sip her tea, she commented blandly that if she had to go away, she really would prefer Gwen to accompany them.

Somebody ought to get what they wanted after all.

A/N: Interested in the nightingale myth Mary references? Check out the story of Philomela, Procne and Tereus as told in Ovid's 'Metamorphoses' Book VI! (Or look it up on wikipedia...) I should say, in the spirit of self-aggrandizement, that there is in fact a discussion thread for this story over on the forums (see profile for link). Anyone who wants to start a discussion about anything in this story should feel very welcome to do so there!