My deepest appreciation to all who are reading this story and special thanks to those who have reviewed! And now we'll visit Isobel and Violet and then bring to a close this long and special day!


Chapter 9

Matthew didn't say much during the short ride, but Mary saw how eagerly he looked at everything, pointing and commenting now and then on something that had changed since his previous excursion or something he noticed for the first time, marveling at how he could have missed seeing it before. Mary's throat tightened. He's like a prisoner let out of jail. And she resolved that there would be many more trips like this one.

And before they knew it, Branson was pulling into the drive at Crawley House.

"It happened right there," Matthew nodded, pointing to the doorway.

"What happened, dearest?" Mary asked, turning from the photographs she was examining.

Matthew looked at her soberly. "Why, that's where I first saw Lady Mary Crawley," he said, his face breaking into a grin, "and lost my heart forever."

They were in the cheerful, pale blue drawing room of Crawley House, the afternoon sun making the polished wood gleam, awaiting the return—any minute, Molesley had assured them—of Isobel from the refugee center

They had pulled into the drive at Crawley House ten minutes earlier. Branson handed Mary out and then quickly unstrapped the chair. It was easier getting Matthew out of the car than in. They entered the courtyard off the drive, Branson pushing him, as they had discovered the first time out that the uneven, square-cut stones made it impossible for Matthew to push himself. Mary knocked on the door.

Molesley had answered quickly, a surprised smile on his face.

"Mr. Crawley, Lady Mary! Was Mrs. Crawley expecting you? She's still at the refugee center, but I expect her back any time now."

"I'm afraid she wasn't expecting us, we wanted to surprise her. Of course, we'll wait." Branson got Matthew's chair up over the one step into the house.

"I'll be outside, sir, Lady Mary."

Matthew caught his arm. "When my mother comes and sees the car, she'll undoubtedly ask whom you brought. Just say, 'Mr. Crawley wanted to visit.'"

"Yes, sir," Branson grinned as he closed the door.

Matthew smiled at Mary. "It will be such a surprise. You watch, she'll know the moment she sees you."

They had shed their jackets, and Molesley had gone off to see about tea. Mary had been looking at family photographs on the chimneypiece when Matthew had spoken to her. He looked at her now and shook his head, his eyes bright, his smile beaming. "I still remember exactly how you looked in your riding habit, your cheeks flushed the most lovely pink and your eyes blazing. And I must have looked like an idiot, gawking at you the way I did."

Mary came over and, putting a hand on each arm of his chair, leaned down. "If, I say yes, will you hold it against me?"

"Never."

"And did you still feel that way after dinner that night?"

"Well, I told myself you were awful, but my heart said something else." He reached up and tapped her nose. He had never done that before and it was so unexpected, so flirtatious, it was good Mary was holding on to the chair, she thought her knees would buckle. They started to kiss but heard a noise in the hallway. Mary straightened up and jumped back.

"We don't want Molesley to drop the tray," she murmured. But it wasn't Molesley.

"Matthew," they heard from the hall, "I'm so delighted that you—." Isobel appeared in the doorway and stopped and, for a moment, simply stared at them, at their glowing faces. Then she dropped into the chair that, very fortunately, was just next to her and, holding a hand to her mouth, began to sob.

Matthew wheeled quickly over to her and took her hand. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry, we didn't mean to-."

"No, no, I'm fine, I'm fine," she said smiling through her tears as she reached out her other hand for Mary, who took it up in both her own. "More than fine. I'm just so happy for you and to have you both here." And she broke down again as Matthew offered her his handkerchief and rubbed her arm.

Isobel gave both their hands a squeeze and started to rise just as Molesley arrived, carrying the tea tray and looking rather alarmed.

"Perfectly timed, thank you, Molesley," said Isobel, smiling even as tears still would leak out. "We'll be quite all right."

They gathered around the tea table and Isobel poured and passed the cups, although she had to stop repeatedly to dry her eyes. "I've been wondering all day what your mother meant when she said we would have something to celebrate, and then to find you both here. . ." She took a deep breath and laughed. "All right, then, tell me how it is that everything changed! Last night," she turned to Mary, "you were going to America."

"Well," said Matthew, "after everyone went to bed, we talked about that. And talked and talked. And we realized," he reached out and took Mary's hand, "that we still—we've always—loved each other. I was a little slow, but I finally realized that if I asked her to stay and marry me that she would. And so, I did. And," he finished, smiling happily, first at Mary and then his mother, "And so, she is."

"It took a lot of convincing on my part before he thought it was the right thing to do," Mary added, squeezing his hand.

"Of course, it did," said Isobel, her eyes starting to fill again. She knew her boy. He wouldn't think it was fair to Mary. "But, oh, my dears! If two people love each other, why shouldn't they be together?"

They spent another happy half hour, Isobel catching them up on the refugee center and hospital activities, although the conversation always came back around to their news and how it had all come about. At last, Matthew looked at the clock.

"We want to tell Cousin Violet, so we'd best be going, I'm afraid." he smiled.

"Oh, that's just splendid. Yes, head on over—we'll all be together in just a few hours. But do come for a visit again, soon, both of you." She reached out and Mary took her hand.

"We will," Mary replied. "Very soon, and often."

As Molesley was helping Mary on with her jacket, Matthew spoke quietly to his mother, saying, "There's a book I want," and then, taking her arm and pulling her closer, he added something more, her face breaking into a smile as she nodded. She kissed his cheek as Molesley came over with his jacket, then hugged Mary, whispering, "Thank you for coming; thank you for loving him so much."

Branson was waiting for them when they opened the door and, after handing Mary into the car, he got Matthew seated even more easily than before.

"Well, this was just marvelous," exclaimed Matthew as he quickly settled himself, while Branson took care of the chair. He turned to Mary, grinning, and started to say something, but instead took her by the shoulders and, pulling her to him, kissed her, then wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Just marvelous," he whispered. "Thank you, darling."

Mary let herself sink against him, the first time they had held each other with no chair arm in the way, and they stayed that way in silence until they heard Branson open the door. But when they sat back, Matthew kept his arm around her, his hand bringing her head to his shoulder.

"All right, Branson," Matthew called catching the chauffeur's eye in the mirror, "on to Granny's!" He kissed her temple, smiling happily.

Matthew caressed Mary's neck as he kept up a lively conversation with Branson about the merits of the Daimler compared to other makes of motor cars. Listening to him, Mary rejoiced and at the same time ached to see and hear the change in him—to feel him practically vibrating with enthusiasm for simply living this moment. Her heart clenched at the realization of the cost to his spirit that his acceptance of "this different life" had wrought. No more, my love, no more. Today begins your new life.

"Wouldn't you like that, Mary?"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she smiled. "I'm afraid I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment."

"Why, I asked Branson if he could teach you to drive the way he did Edith, and he said, certainly, he could," Matthew answered with great seriousness, but with a wink in the mirror at Branson, who was trying to keep his face composed.

Mary pulled away to look at him. "What? Are you mad?"

"Why, no, I'm sure you could learn. How hard was teaching Lady Edith, Branson?"

"The first time out, I despaired, sir, but after that, things improved quickly, and Lady Edith soon was roaring about with no trouble at all."

Matthew looked at Mary. "There, you see!"

"I meant, are you mad thinking I would want to learn to drive!" Mary responded with exasperation. Matthew leaned back and started laughing and she swatted his arm.

"Well, why wouldn't you want to learn to drive?" he asked, grinning.

"Why would I ever need to?"

"Well, perhaps we'll have our own car one day. I obviously couldn't drive it, but you could," he replied, and although he was smiling broadly, she saw in the way he looked at her that he was only partly teasing, perhaps not teasing at all. And she saw that he wanted her to drive for both of them, which made her throat get tight. But she wouldn't tear up, no she would not.

"If that day ever comes, we can revisit this topic," she replied, rolling her eyes and giving an exaggerated huff of annoyance.

"Good," he said, pulling her to him. "In the meantime, Branson," he said with another wink, "it appears your job is secure."

They were soon in front of the Dower House. "Here we are, then," Branson announced. But no one moved as they contemplated the several steps—four or five?—that led to the front door.

"It's been so long since I've visited, I'd quite forgotten the steps," said Matthew lightly.

"Sir, we could ask her ladyship's butler to help me carry you up in the chair," suggested Branson. "I'm afraid the stoop is too narrow for me to place the chair and carry you to it," he added apologetically.

"I'm not sure the man's up to it, to be honest," replied Mary, vexed with herself for not thinking about the steps ahead of time.

"Well, then, I could bring the chair into the entrance hall, sir, and then carry you up to it. No trouble with that at all," Branson offered.

Mary looked at Matthew. "Darling, why don't you wait in the car? We don't even know if Granny's here. Or she might be resting. If she's here and up, I'll tell her our news and I'll let her know you're here, too, but will come up another time."

Matthew smiled in appreciation. "If you don't mind, that might be best." He was grateful and for more than just avoiding the steps. He was suddenly nervous about her grandmother's reaction and it might be better just to hear about it. And, if he were honest, he was starting to tire.

Branson opened her door, handing Mary out. She came around to Matthew's side, opened the door and leaned in. "Don't look so worried," she whispered, "Granny always wanted us to marry." She gave his cheek a kiss, then ran up the steps and was quickly ushered in.

Matthew looked at Branson. "I can't thank you enough for taking me around like this."

"Sir, it's my job, but I am very happy to do it. Just say the word and I'll take you anywhere you want to go. We'll manage just fine."

"Thank you for that. You can't know how much I appreciate it."

"And, sir," Branson went on with a grin, "I'm not sure if I'm supposed to know, but I would just like to offer you and Lady Mary my sincere congratulations."

"I think now, with this visit, everyone knows, and thank you, Branson, for the good wishes."

Matthew gazed up at the house and then at the surrounding grounds. When was the last time he had been here? Before the war, surely. The sun was starting to go down and the late afternoon light made everything seem a little unreal to him. "I need to go out more, I've realized that today. Even if just for a drive. Now that the weather isn't so foul-." He stopped, seeing the door open and Mary came out, followed to his amazement by Violet, a heavy shawl around her shoulders. Mary, looking elated, helped her grandmother down the stairs to the car. Branson got out and came around to Matthew's side and opened the door. Matthew leaned forward.

"I had to come out to greet my guest," Violet called as she approached. She stopped at the car holding her cane in both hands, cocked her head and looked at him. "Marriage is a long business for people like us; we must choose wisely." She reached out and nodded as he took her hand. "I'm so glad Mary has."

"Thank you, Cousin Violet," was really all Matthew could manage to say.

She squeezed his hand. "I must go in before I catch my death, and you two must come back soon for a proper visit. Until dinner, then." She kissed Mary's cheek and turned to go back in. Matthew looked at Mary. "Yes, we'll come back, very soon," he said, his eyes promising Mary as much as his words promised Violet, and then watched as Mary helped her grandmother inside. He sat back, looking at the sky begin to glow, and tried to comprehend that life could still be beautiful.

.

Mary and Matthew were both quiet on the drive back to the Abbey. His arm was around her again, her head on his shoulder, tucked under his chin; her hand rested on his chest. The noise and vibration of the car had a lulling effect, but as tired as they both were, they were quite awake, all too aware that this moment of physical intimacy would soon end.

Matthew realized that Branson had chosen to return the "back way," as it was called. This route came out of the woods on the same road as the direct route, but it wound about a bit more getting there, taking perhaps ten minutes longer, and, once on the road out of the woods, you still had further to go to get to the Abbey. Matthew's eyes met Branson's in the mirror. You're a good man, Branson, thank you.

They entered the woods, dark at this time of day, the setting sun not reaching through the trees. But it wasn't long before the way ahead began to open and be illuminated as they approached the road to Downton. Suddenly, Matthew threw his other arm around Mary, pulling her to him, almost fiercely. She reached up and held his neck, pressing herself against him and they stayed that way, as if by holding each other they could make this drive never end.

The car came out of the trees and up a hill that leveled out just before the turn that would bring the Abbey into view. The sky was streaked with purple and pink, and the golden light from the setting sun gilded the Downton farms and dales that descended down the other side of the rise. Branson slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. Startled, Mary and Matthew sat back a bit, waiting for an explanation.

Branson opened the door and, without looking at them, said, "I'm sorry, Lady Mary, sir, I'm afraid I heard something. A tire may be low and I'd best just check." He shut the door and went around behind the car.

Matthew took the opportunity to take her chin and give Mary a kiss, which ended up longer than he had intended, under the circumstances. When they drew apart and looked out, they could see Branson standing off to the side at the edge of rise, facing away from them, his hands behind his back, contemplating the sunset.

Matthew shook his head and smiled at Mary. "He did congratulate us while you were with your granny."

"Remind me to blush later," said Mary taking his head in her hands. "If we could only be rid of these stupid jackets," she whispered. Their kiss was hard and full and deep. This time Mary sucked his lip and Matthew moaned, and she took his hand and put it on her thigh, and he had never touched her there, and even with the barrier of the soft wool of her skirt, it hit him like an electric shock. He felt himself burn inside as he had last night, and, oh God, he wanted to love her properly, completely. But now he made himself push that aside and just let himself drown in the sensations of what he could feel. They kissed again, their tongues exploring, tasting, and he caressed her thigh, his fingers pressing, his thumb stroking, and felt her arch her back, felt her kiss his eyes, felt her clutch his hair, felt her breath as she moaned and gasped as he kissed her throat where her heart beat. And then they kissed, again. And then, again.

Finally, gently, they eased apart, heads resting together, and then Matthew tried to tidy her hair and Mary tried to straighten his tie. The sun was almost down and they looked out the window. Branson had turned around and was walking slowly back, not looking at the car, giving it a wide berth, looking down at the ground, kicking a stone now and then. He disappeared from sight as he came around to the back of the car. They could hear him kick the tires and adjust the straps on the chair. Then he pounded the side of the car twice, came into view and got into the car, again without looking at them.

"I do apologize. I'm not sure what I heard, but everything seems in good order." He started the car.

Matthew and Mary had settled back, Matthew's arm still around her. Their lips were rather numb but Matthew managed to clear his throat and say, "Better safe than sorry. Thank you for looking out for our well being." And their eyes met again in the mirror.

.

Oh, it was a jolly company sitting around the dining table that night! Robert couldn't remember the last time there had been so much laughter from everyone, no exceptions. He looked around at his family, thinking of the dinner the evening before—was it only last night that Mary was going to America?—and shook his head. And Cora! Such a change from this morning! She seemed so pleased, one might have thought that the whole thing was her idea. And his mother approved—what a relief that was!

He held up his glass . "I can't begin to say how happy I am-and I know we all are-on this wonderful occasion. To Mary and Matthew!" After all had echoed the toast heartily and taken a sip, Sybil spoke up, lifting her glass, her eyes round and serious and glistening.

"And I would just like to say how wonderful and, and, yes, inspiring Mary and Matthew's love is! They have overcome so much, they were kept apart so long, it all seemed impossible, but their love prevailed! That they are finally, at long last, together is a beautiful, beautiful testament to the power of true love and how true love . . . conquers all! So let us drink to them . . . and to love," her voice breaking just a bit at the end of this speech. There was a slightly stunned silence, and then a murmur of agreement as everyone drank again.

"Yes, well, thank you, Sybil, a lovely sentiment," said Robert, giving his youngest a look. At least she wasn't droning on about the Irish Question!

"Did everyone know as soon as they saw us without being told?" Matthew asked, his hand reaching for Mary's under the table. He let her keep it resting on her thigh; the silk of her dress was so sheer he thought he might die. He licked his lips and hoped his face looked as if he were paying attention.

"Yes!" came the chorus in response.

"Your faces told the story," said Cora—Cora-smiling.

"It was still being dressed for dinner at breakfast that told the real story!" giggled Sybil, who had recovered from the emotion of her toast. "Ow!" Edith had kicked her under the table. Too late, she realized that perhaps Isobel and Granny didn't know the part about falling asleep in the library. Isobel actually did, but-

"Dressed for dinner at breakfast?" asked Granny. "Oh, dear, this sounds rather scandalous! Why I am always the last to know?"

"I promise I'll tell you later, Granny," smiled Mary, turning a little pink and not because of the story but because Matthew had started gently caressing her thigh.

"Well, Cousin Cora had said we'd have something to celebrate and then there they both were in my drawing room," Isobel said, giving Mary a tender look.

"And really, Mary looked as if she were floating a foot off the ground as she told me Matthew was waiting in the car. I think even Dr. Watson would have been able to understand those clues and deduce what the celebration was for!" Violet tittered as she looked around the table and the group laughed in appreciation.

"It was a good thing I was standing next to a chair, or I think I might have slid down the wall to the floor!" Isobel laughed.

"You sat down, but Granny popped up like a Jack-in-the box!" said Mary, her eyes twinkling.

"Mary! Is that anyway to speak about your grandmother?" Violet protested in mock indignation. "I simply had to get up to attend to my guest waiting in the cold!"

Mary remembered their conversation:

Hello, Granny, I know this is a surprise. Matthew's outside in the car; we hadn't counted on the steps. No, don't get up-. But her grandmother had risen and had taken her hands and had looked her in the eyes steadily, searchingly. Mary, are you very sure?

That's what Matthew kept asking.

That's because he's a good man.

Yes, he is. Yes, I'm very sure.

Well, then! Her grandmother had smiled and kissed her cheek, and grabbing a shawl, started for the door. Come along, help me down those wretched steps!

Granny, I love you, she had said as she followed her out.

She looked at her grandmother across the table. Granny, I love you.

.

Robert suggested he and Matthew go through with the ladies and Matthew gratefully concurred—he was beginning to feel the long and active day. The conversation and laughter continued, but eventually Mary came over to his chair and raised her eyebrow and he smiled and nodded.

"This has been the most wonderful evening, but as you can imagine, Matthew and I are rather tired after all that has happened, and so we're going to retire now," said Mary with a smile for all. They made their way around the room, saying good night. And then, Mary came round behind his chair and leaned down over his shoulder and he looked up and smiled and, talking to each other as if they were the only two there, she pushed him out. It wasn't the fact of her pushing the chair that caused a hush in the room as the family watched them leave, but rather the complete intimacy of the gesture, as if, somehow, the two had become one. And, of course, in a way, they had.

But they didn't part in the great hall. Mary pushed him straight into the library, shutting the door. They were quiet a moment, gazing around the grand room, the fire once again casting shadows and making the gold titles of the books glimmer, trying to take in all that had happened since they had met here not even twenty-four hour ago.

Without a word, Mary pushed him to the table with the gramophone and found the record and set it playing. Then she turned to Matthew, who, once again, held out his hand. She took it and came to him, but this time, she pulled him to her, one arm around his shoulders, one cradling his head next to her breast, while Matthew wrapped his arms around her, holding her hips, stroking her back. They held each other, barely swaying; tonight, though, instead of remembering all they had lost, they could only think of all they'd gained and Matthew decided that he could believe in silver linings, after all.

The needle ticked as it had last night and finally, they released each other, but this time with love, not anguish. Mary reached out to lift the arm off the record and Matthew said, "Would you like to see the book my mother brought me?"

"I thought I heard you ask her to. What book is it?"

Matthew headed over to the window seat. "Come and see," he said over his shoulder. She sat down, pulling her legs up and tilted her head with a questioning smile.

Matthew just looked at her for a moment, drinking in the perfection of her beauty, humbled yet again by the thought that marrying him could make her happy. Then he reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a small black velvet ring box.

Mary's eyes grew wide as her breath hitched. He opened the box to reveal a round-cut solitaire diamond in a platinum setting, flanked on each side by three smaller stones. Mary stared at the ring and then looked up. "When did you . . .?" she whispered

"The day after Sybil's ball."

"You were so sure." She pressed her lips together, shaking her head, her eyes beginning to fill.

"And I was right, wasn't I?" he smiled gently. He reached up to her face, his thumb wiping away the tear that trickled down her cheek. "No more tears allowed, dearest. Shall we see if it fits?"

Mary nodded, smiling as she dabbed her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. Matthew set the box down on the seat next to her and took her left hand in his. Slowly, he leaned towards her and pressed a kiss to her bare arm, just above the top of her glove. Then he started working the glove down, his eyes not leaving hers, until the inside of her elbow was exposed, and he kissed her again there, and then again at her wrist, and finally, when he had removed her glove, still looking at her, he kissed her palm, which he then placed and held over his heart. Then he picked up the ring, tenderly kissed the tip of her ring finger, and slid it on.

.

"You're not going in, are you?" Anna asked in a whisper. She and Bates were in a huddle outside the library door.

"I have to. He told me that if he hadn't rung for me by 10:30 to come and get him."

Anna sighed. "I guess you're right, but it just seems such a shame for them to be disturbed. You know, tonight."

He gave her a look. "All right, all right," she said. "You have your orders." But she couldn't help saying over her shoulder as she left, "But it's still a shame."

Bates opened the library door a crack. He paused, listening, and then stepped in. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust—there was just the fire and the lamp on the table next to the Victrola lighting the room. It did not surprise him to make out, finally, Mr. Crawley and Lady Mary at the window seat as they had been the night before.

Mary was curled up on the seat, leaning back against Matthew. Matthew, once again, was leaning his head against the frame of the seat, his arms around Mary. He was holding her left hand so that they could both see the ring. They weren't asleep but were perhaps halfway there.

"Is that you, Bates?" Matthew called over his shoulder in a low voice.

"Yes, sir."

"Not yet," murmured Mary. "Just a little longer."

"Come back in half an hour, would you," said Matthew, looking at the ring and kissing the top of Mary's head.

"Yes, sir."

"And Bates, tonight, if we fall asleep, please do wake us up."

"Very good, sir," said Bates, shutting the door.


So we will leave them in the library again and this is the end to Part 2. And yes, there will be a wedding, but a few things have to happen first! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!