Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, September 1918
"Who is it then? I thought you sent Sybil back to the wards?"
"I did," Mary nodded cryptically, then walked back towards the door.
He followed her with his eyes, staring at her in confusion.
Matthew blinked, his eyes going wide in surprise as Mary brought in his visitor. His eyes clouded slightly and he did nothing to stop tears from flowing down his cheeks. He swallowed and mustered a brave smile for his guest.
"Mother," Matthew breathed gratefully.
Chapter 9: Matthew's Making Such Progress
Downton Abbey, England, September 1918
"We were behind the French," Matthew said quietly, his eyes looking down at his hands, his brow creased in concentration. "The Germans weren't fighting back, at least not particularly vigorously. The plan called for the French to drive a wedge through the enemy line, and for us to come in behind. That trench of theirs was supposed to be impregnable, but it melted like butter in front of us."
Isobel nodded patiently.
Mary looked at him with concern.
"I sent Wakefield and half the men to the right flank, and I kept William with me in the centre. There was a gradual rise, and we could see the French in the distance. I knew the route was safe because they had just come through. There were tracks…the marks from the tank treads in the mud," he said, glancing from his hands up to his Mother, then back down again.
"Go on, Matthew," Isobel said.
"I…I don't know what happened after that," he blinked several times. "I just remember waking up and I was covered in dirt, and William…"
"Yes?" Isobel asked.
"He wasn't moving," Matthew whispered.
"I think that's enough for now," Isobel smiled, patting her son's hand. "The details will come, and even if they don't right away, it's no bother. You're here and you're safe, and that's what matters."
Matthew nodded slowly.
"Well, I've got to go look in on Dr. Clarkson," Isobel declared, rising to her feet. "I'll see you at dinner, Matthew." She leaned over and kissed his face, running her hand through his hair before turning to go.
"I have to go speak with Sybil," Mary said, rising from her chair.
"You're leaving?" he asked nervously.
"I'll be right back, darling," she nodded. "I just need to make sure she's all right handling my patients."
Matthew nodded grudgingly.
"It's only fair, Matthew," Mary smiled. "If I'm to take care of you, and only you, from now on, I need to make sure that those I am leaving behind are provided for."
"Yes, of course," he smiled bravely. "Take as much time as you need, Mary."
Mary walked out with Isobel, closing Matthew's bedroom door behind her.
"He seems all right, doesn't he?" Mary asked carefully as they walked down the hall.
"From what Dr. Clarkson says, it's a wonder he survived with his arm intact. I've seen amputations for soldiers in far better shape than Matthew was in. All of you have done very well. Dr. Clarkson tells me that you and Sybil were instrumental when Matthew was first brought back," Isobel smiled. "You've become quite a nurse since I last saw you, Mary."
"No, no, it's nothing. Sybil's the nurse in this family. She was the one helping," Mary said. "I was just wiping his brow."
"Indeed," Isobel smirked. "And since you were so inconsequential, was it Sybil's name that Matthew was crying out when he was feverish and in shock?"
Mary blushed. "They mentioned that part, did they?"
"They did," Isobel nodded. "I've seen it far too often, Mary. Soldiers crying out for their loved ones while they writhe in pain and agony. There's nothing we can do for them in that condition because we can't give them what they need – the touch and voice of those they hold dear. Do not undersell yourself, Mary. Your being at Matthew's side, and reaching out to him, speaking to him, letting him know you were there, when his shoulder was reset was as crucial as anything Dr. Clarkson did, I assure you."
Mary bit her bottom lip. She was not used to compliments about her nursing skills, particularly from Isobel.
"I'm glad Dr. Clarkson was able to call you back," Mary said.
"I'm grateful that you ordered him to," Isobel said knowingly.
"Of course I did," Mary said quietly. "Matthew needs you. You saw how glad he was to see you."
"Matthew has a fiancée now," Isobel said firmly. "And I am quite sure that he is already in very good hands."
"Thank you," Mary replied. "I know it must have come as a great shock to receive Matthew's letter about our engagement, and I am very moved that you would give us your blessing."
"It is quite easy to approve of something that we've all been waiting years to see," Isobel smiled.
Mary stopped in her tracks and blinked several times in surprise.
"Carry on, Mary," Isobel smirked. "I'll see both of you later."
Mary shook her head in wonder as Isobel walked gracefully downstairs and out the front door to the waiting motor.
Matthew wandered through the library. He scanned the shelves looking for some distraction. He wasn't feeling cynical enough for Dickens, nor motivated enough for Shakespeare. He furrowed his brow, not quite knowing what he wanted to read.
"Matthew Crawley," a voice sneered. "Always looking to burrow your nose in a book instead of going out into the world like a real man."
Matthew turned and gasped at his visitor. His eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin.
"Sir Richard," he spat. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" Richard laughed. "What are you doing here is a far better question."
"This is my family's home," Matthew replied coldly. "I have a right to be here. You, on the other hand, are clearly trespassing."
"Am I?" Richard asked, his lips curling into a smirk.
"Well I can think of no one in this house who would invite you here," Matthew frowned.
"Is that so?" Richard grinned. "Darling, could you come in for a moment?" he called.
To Matthew's shock, Mary walked into the library.
"Yes, Richard, what is it?" Mary asked, running her hand along his shoulder.
"Mary?" Matthew asked.
Mary turned and noticed him for the first time. "Cousin Matthew," she said politely. "How are you?"
"I…"
"Matthew was just looking for a book," Richard said cheerfully. "Well, darling if you're ready, shall we go? The guests should be arriving at Haxby shortly and you should be there to greet them."
"Of course, Richard," Mary nodded.
"Mary!" Matthew called out.
Richard kept walking towards the door. Mary turned and looked back at Matthew.
"Don't act so surprised, Matthew," she smiled. "You couldn't possibly expect me to spend the rest of my life with a cripple could you?"
"But I…"
Matthew looked down at his legs. They were both there, and seemed perfectly normal. Matthew looked back up at Mary in confusion. She looked away from his face and smirked.
Matthew followed the direction of her glance and his eyes widened in horror.
His right arm was gone.
He felt himself swoon.
"Mary!" Matthew cried, bolting upright. He gasped and looked all about him. His bedroom was dark, the fire having died down during the evening. He ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair, taking several deep breaths. He blinked and tried to calm his racing pulse.
Downton Abbey. He was back in his bedroom at Downton Abbey. His mind pieced together reality and his nightmare faded away. He wiggled his toes and moved his legs beneath the blankets. He stared nervously at his right side and saw the familiar shape of his bandaged arm, the sling Sybil had fashioned for him hung loosely to allow him to sleep more comfortably.
Matthew exhaled and lay back, turning the pillow over to a cooler side. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
"Mary," he sighed, swallowing as he hoped for a dreamless sleep.
"I don't remember giving you permission to come outside."
Matthew looked up and smiled as Mary approached him. Her hands were crossed in front of her and she wore a mock frown of disapproval on her face. Still he could not help but smile. He knew she would be cross with him, but as she approached, with the blue sky and green fields behind her, he could not help but smile.
"I needed the air," he explained. "Besides, darling, it's just my shoulder and arm that are injured. Both of my legs still work perfectly fine."
"I'll be the judge of what you need," Mary said pointedly, sitting down next to him on their bench. "Do not just go running off. I came to your room just now and found it deserted! Bates had to tell me that he helped you dress and that you'd gone for a walk."
"I'm sorry, darling," Matthew smiled genuinely, putting his left arm around her shoulders. "You're right. I should have asked you to come sit with me on our bench. I'm very pleased that you're here, even if you are scolding me."
"And so you should be," Mary smirked, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "You're under my care now, Captain. If you want something, simply ask."
"Well, in that case, Nurse Crawley," Matthew grinned wickedly.
"Behave yourself!" Mary arched her eyebrow.
"I must say this is not the welcome that I expected from my fiancée upon my return from War," Matthew joked.
"I must say that this is not the condition that I expected to receive my fiancé in upon his return from War," Mary retorted. "But we should count ourselves lucky regardless."
"We certainly should," Matthew agreed, kissing her softly.
They sat together and looked out across the grounds, a light breeze washing over them.
"Are you all right?" Mary asked.
"Of course," Matthew answered. "This sling is a bother, but it's better than having my arm immobilized like before."
"Well watch out, Sybil has an exercise plan ready for you the moment that Dr. Clarkson says you've healed enough," Mary smiled.
"Good God," Matthew rolled his eyes.
"So unless you want to be thrown into Sybil's clutches for all of your recovery, I suggest you stay on my good side," Mary smirked.
"Perhaps you can be convinced to take a stroll with me each day, Nurse Crawley?" Matthew asked.
"Perhaps," Mary said indifferently.
"Don't make me beg," Matthew teased.
Mary laughed and snuggled against him. His left arm wrapped around her and she leaned against his shoulder. Matthew was back. He was alive. He was safe. His shoulder would heal, and though it would take months, those were months he would not have to go back to War.
Downton Abbey, England, October 1918
"There you are, Sir," Bates said, easing the right side of the suit jacket carefully over Matthew's arm.
"Thank you, Bates," Matthew nodded politely. He shifted his arm in the sling slightly as Bates tied the jacket button together in the front.
"How is your recovery going, Sir?" Bates asked. "It will be a welcome sight to see you at dinner this evening."
Matthew nodded. This was his first proper meal with the family since his return. He had taken trays in his room for most of his meals up until now, as it was more convenient. He expected he would eventually get used to using his left hand to feed himself but he was finding it quite difficult still. He had agreed to go down tonight out of concern for Mary. He knew she had to fend off questions from her parents about his condition on her own and he did not want her to have to sit through that once again.
"Sybil says I need to begin physiotherapy in another week, although I can't say I'm looking forward to it," Matthew said.
"Lady Sybil has proven to be quite the dedicated nurse, Sir," Bates smiled.
"Are you surprised, Bates?" Matthew smirked. "All Crawley women are taskmasters at heart."
Bates smiled and did not comment. Matthew nodded to him and walked out of his dressing room and into the hall.
"Darling," Mary smiled, waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
"Mary," Matthew smiled, kissing her cheek. He made a show of looking at her up and down, causing her to blush. Her blue dress and black gloves were quite fetching, and he noticed that her dress was more form fitting than he was used to. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," Mary smiled demurely.
She took his arm and they went downstairs. Crossing the Great Hall, Matthew nodded nervously to the family as they entered the parlour for drinks before dinner.
After finishing his first drink, Matthew settled into his old routine quite easily. He spoke with Sybil and Edith about the goings on in the convalescent home and talked to Robert about some general Estate matters. Cora and Violet kept Mary occupied, but he did not mind. Discussion about the War was strictly avoided, and by the time Mary took his arm to go through to the dining room, his mood was light and relaxed.
Matthew took his seat at the dining table. He smiled as Mary took her seat next to him. He chastised himself for feeling so pleased at such a small gesture. He had sat next to Mary at dinner countless times since his arrival in 1912, and yet it seemed different now. It wasn't a coincidence that they were seated next to each other this time. He didn't need to brace himself for a rebuke or insult. She was wearing his ring. She was smiling at him. He was not required to leave in the following days for a foreign land. He was having dinner with his fiancée and his family, and he was pleased.
"Potatoes, Sir?" a footman asked Matthew.
"Yes," Matthew nodded, smiling tightly at the large serving spoons. "You'll have to serve me, I'm afraid."
"Yes, Sir," The footman replied, spooning the potatoes onto Matthew's plate.
Matthew pursed his lips as he picked up his fork with his left hand and clumsily stabbed at his food.
"Matthew, you're looking very well," Cora said.
Matthew swallowed his food quickly and smiled back at her. "Thank you, Cousin Cora. I have Sybil and Mary to thank for that. They have been very generous in helping with my recovery."
"I would hope so," Robert laughed. "Mary has a vested interest in your health."
"Papa!" Mary rolled her eyes.
"Cousin Matthew will be doing exercises shortly," Sybil smiled. "He'll be out of his sling in no time!"
"That is welcome news," Edith nodded. "Wouldn't you say, Mama?"
"Of course!" Cora beamed.
Matthew picked up his fork again and poked at a piece of broccoli, managing to manoeuvre it into his mouth just before it fell back to his plate.
"I was hoping that now that you're back, we could publish the wedding banns," Cora continued. "With the wedding in December, time is running short."
"Mama, honestly," Mary shook her head.
Matthew quickly swallowed his food. Cora's comment had caught him in mid-chew once again.
"Certainly," he smiled. "I must admit that it will be quite the sight to see my name next to Mary's in the Times. I'm very much looking forward to it."
Mary smiled back at him.
Matthew attempted to slice his piece of roast with the edge of his fork, succeeding in tearing off part of it, then awkwardly raising it to his mouth with his left hand. He set his fork down and took a sip of his wine.
"Are you all right, darling?" Mary whispered, leaning towards him slightly.
"Fine," Matthew smiled back. The last thing he needed was for Mary or someone else to have to cut his food into bite size morsels for him as if he were some…
He shook his head, pushing the word, and the images it conjured from his mind.
Mercifully, Matthew was able to finish his pudding with minimal effort. Cora took the ladies through, and Matthew smiled gamely as Robert mentioned once again how happy he was to have Matthew back home. Matthew sipped his port and merely nodded.
"Is there any news about Mason?" he asked.
"He's at Leeds Hospital," Robert replied. "I asked Clarkson to have him transferred here but the man is dragging his heels, not surprisingly. He's a stickler for protocol, that one."
"But he's doing better?" Matthew asked.
"From what I understand, yes. Though I expect his recovery will be much longer than yours. You can ask Edith. She's been helping Mason's father stay in touch with the kitchen maid," Robert replied.
"Daisy," Matthew said.
"Yes, that's the one," Robert nodded, sipping his port. "I expect Mason will be here within a week or so. I'm sure he's receiving proper care in Leeds, but what's the point of having a convalescent home here if we cannot ensure that those who are a part of this house cannot be here?"
Matthew nodded, smiling at the Earl's comment. Regardless of any differences Matthew had with Robert's approach and methods, he always had to admit that the Earl was a formidable man when he put his mind to a particular cause.
When they went through, Matthew sat down next to Mary on the sofa and rested back against the cushions. His right shoulder was beginning to throb, a dull ache that seemed to nag on him as the evening wore on. He made polite conversation with those around him, but he remained as still as possible, trying not to wince and give away his rising discomfort.
"Well, I am worn out," Mary declared, rising from the sofa. "I'm going to go up. Matthew, would you please come with me? I need to look at your bandages once more and if I wait any longer I'll fall asleep."
She smiled at him knowingly and Matthew thanked her with his eyes.
"Of course," Matthew nodded, pushing himself up with his left hand.
"I can check on Cousin Matthew later if he wants to stay," Sybil suggested cheerfully.
"Oh, that's quite all right, Sybil, thank you," Matthew smiled gamely. "I'll just head up now I think."
They made their excuses and went upstairs. When they reached his bedroom, Mary marched him into his dressing room and removed his coat.
"Thank you," Matthew sighed as she undid the buttons on his shirt. "I can ring for Bates, you know."
"Forget Bates," Mary huffed. "You're exhausted. I can tell. I'm getting you out of these clothes and into bed right away."
"That sounds delightful," Matthew smiled, his eyes half closed already.
"There will be none of that!" Mary smirked, caressing his cheek, then removing his shirt. "My parents already think I spend too much time with you. How would I explain it to them if you reinjured yourself?"
"You don't think we can be creative enough to work around it?" Matthew teased, stretching his left arm out gratefully. He sat down in a chair and removed his shoes, socks and pants on his own.
"There," he smiled as he came over to her. "All set."
"Get in bed," Mary rolled her eyes, pushing him out the door and towards his bed. "As enticing as you look at the moment, you'll need to get out of that sling before you're ready for anything so…vigorous."
"I'm a soldier, darling," Matthew smiled, sliding under the blankets. "My stamina knows no bounds."
Mary leaned over and kissed him softly. She ran her hand along his cheek as his eyes fluttered closed.
"Go to sleep," she smiled. "You can show me your stamina another night."
"Promise?" Matthew mumbled.
"Promise," Mary said, kissing his forehead.
"Can you stay?" Matthew asked, his eyes closed.
"I have to go ring for Anna and change," Mary said patiently.
"Then come back when you're ready for bed," he said thickly.
"Go to sleep," Mary smiled. "I promise I'll be here when you wake."
"Mmm," Matthew smirked. "I love you, Mary. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, Matthew," Mary smiled as she heard his breathing slow down. "I know you do."
