Chapter 7
Mary November 1918
So much seemed to have changed in one day: Matthew, Lavinia, Richard. Mary's head span as she tried to process the changes.
She'd spent the last three months caring for Matthew and she had succeeded in bringing him back to them. He wasn't quite there yet, the blackness was still there around the edges, but he was gradually getting better. That ridiculous Canadian pretending to be Patrick had set him back a bit, but she was confident that it would only be a blip in his recovery.
The two of them had spent literally hours together each day mostly just talking and watching the summer slowly turn into the autumn. It had been a hard road, but there had been many beautiful moments along the way, like when she'd been able to take him outside for the first time, and she was as close to Matthew as she had ever been. Despite his ongoing insistence that he could never be with any woman, she knew she was as in love with him as she'd ever been and had even been beginning to think about breaking things off with Richard. It didn't quite seem fair to him somehow to carry on with their engagement.
That was before Lavinia's return to Downton, and to Matthew, and Richard's threats to expose her as a whore should she end their engagement. Her head span again as she saw all her unsaid hopes and dreams slipping out of her reach for the second time.
Lavinia had arrived unexpectedly with Richard yesterday evening and inexplicably managed to convince Matthew almost immediately that they should resume their relationship. She knew that Richard was the primary architect of this new development but nonetheless her eyes stung with jealousy as she saw Lavinia taking over her role as his primary carer.
Richard was a hard man, she had known that all along, and he was fighting for what was his. He had removed the possibility of his rival, and was now securing her hand in the only way he felt he could. She had been aware over the preceding months that she had been provoking him with her increasingly open affection for Matthew, but she hadn't been able do anything about it. It was like she'd opened a floodgate which she'd been holding back for six years, and now he had forced her to stem to flow again; to resume her place as his dutiful fiancée and relinquish any outward affection for Matthew. She had been beaten; outmanoeuvred and forced back to his side. He would not just ruin her reputation if she resisted, but also that of her family. Any dream she had resurrected of a life with Matthew was gone again.
She supposed that she should really feel angry with Richard but she didn't. Maybe that would come in time, but right now she simply felt resigned. Resigned to reaping the consequences of her own past failings. She only hoped that Lavinia would make Matthew happy.
Matthew November 1918
The clock chimed eleven. The war was over. Matthew could scarcely believe it. Four years and countless human lives wasted, but it was over. Along with everyone else he bowed his head.
He knew he should be glad, but he actually felt sombre. Not black like he had been when he had first returned home, but sombre. Sombre for all those he'd served alongside who'd never made it home; for the women and children who would never welcome their heroes home; for all the lives changed unalterably.
He knew that his life had been changed unalterably. Whilst he had come through the worst of his depression he still hadn't quite been able to make any real plans for the future. He didn't feel quite as wretched about his lot as he had done, but he couldn't see how he could possibly be a worthwhile Earl of Grantham from a wheelchair and with no possible hope of producing an heir. He'd been being honest when he'd said that the burned Canadian would be a much better heir than him.
Lavinia began to wheel him back to the small library. He'd been very confused about her coming back. He'd been so sure that he couldn't be with any woman in his current condition, but Lavinia had been so equally sure that she didn't care that, in the end, he'd capitulated without much argument. It was nice to have someone of his very own again, but he missed Mary; they'd become closer than ever over these past months. Mary had never objected, however, when he told her that she deserved a real life, a life that he could never give her and that Richard could. He had to be realistic; these months with Mary had been nice, they had brought him back from the brink, but they were never going to be able to continue indefinitely. Mary wanted, and needed, to marry Richard and start living again and now the war was over that would surely happen soon. Like her, he had to start to make plans for his future, and Lavinia seemed to be those plans. He had wondered if his more latent feelings for Mary meant he was using Lavinia, but he had reasoned that Mary was marrying someone else and that he had, once, been in love with Lavinia and so he would surely be again in time.
Lavinia asked if he wanted tea and he smiled up at her as he said he would. He watched her as she moved over to ring the bell. If she was willing to sacrifice everything for him then he would jolly well have to love her wouldn't he?
