Anna was glad to see the fair in town- it didn't come often and it was just the thing to help take them all out of themselves. It had been a dreary few months- after a glorious Indian summer they'd had a bitter winter and a completely washed-out spring. In the last 4 weeks, the nearly continuous rain had meant that very few people had even ventured to or from the village, beyond that which was considered strictly necessary, and so everyone had been kept cooped up quietly at home.
Or, at least, quietly to begin with; up at the big house tensions were running unusually high both upstairs and down, due to the lack of escape and the mounting tedium. Battle lines had been drawn several times between various combatants; Ladies Mary and Edith, Mrs Hughes and Mrs Patmore, Mrs Patmore and Daisy, a most dignified disagreement between Lady Grantham and Mrs Hughes had also led to some terse words being exchanged between Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson, Thomas and Mr Bates, Thomas and William, Thomas and Mr Carson and even, on occasion, Thomas and Miss O'Brien. It was a blessing that a flood in a lower paddock had made the neighbouring driveway to the Dower House inaccessible by car, otherwise Old Lady Grantham could have been thrown into any, if not all, of the frays, the relative status of the warring factions be damned.
No one below stairs would ever admit to it out loud, but they were all desperate for the extra work and distraction a hunt, a dinner party, or even an extended family dinner with the Crawleys would bring. The fair, with all its gaiety and festiveness, coming at just the right time- the first real break in the rain- was just the thing to blow off the cobwebs. Gwen's idea of getting a party up was a good one, particularly if they could get Daisy to join them- she'd not been herself for months and the rain-induced confinement hadn't helped.
While Anna was musing on the possibility of getting as many people as possible out of the house at once with the permission of Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson, she spotted Lady Mary across the way and told the others she would follow on. It seemed that everyone was taking advantage of the break in the rain to come into the village and Anna was particularly pleased to see Lady Mary out and about and, more importantly, being seen.
"Good-day, my lady, you're looking very well." As she said it, Anna reached forward to tug slightly on the cuff of Mary's sleeve, drawing attention to the accenting band of cloth there, before letting her hand fall away almost immediately. It was a small, quick movement, but it caused Mary to look down, first at her dress, and then to Anna. As their eyes met, both women grinned hugely.
They moved to walk side-by-side, companionably strolling through the amusements that would be on offer that evening. "Your heart must feel all the lighter, my lady."
Mary pulled a face that was full of sardonic amusement. "Haven't you heard? I don't have a heart. Everyone knows that. At least, everyone who listens to Edith." The last was said on a slight huff and the amused expression on Mary's face waivered as she looked away into middle the distance.
"Never let it be said that I disagree with any of my mistresses!" Mary blinked and turned her head sharply to look at Anna, surprised that she would say such a thing when the young maid had always been her champion, but it was Anna's turn to look away, smirking. "But then, I'm paid to listen to Lady Edith. How many other people can say they do the same voluntarily?" They shared amused, conspiratorial smiles, and continued on their separate ways; Anna to Downton and Mary to visit her grandmother.
Mary loved the Dower House. It had taken some time but her father had finally convinced Granny to let them install electricity throughout the building, making it an even warmer, more appealing home. It looked positively cosy in comparison to Downton with its significantly smaller staff and the charming rose garden that had always seemed so friendly, so comfortable to Mary. As she looked around she realised, with some regret, that she would never live there now. It was an odd thing to mourn really, given the circumstances that, one-by-one, installed her female ancestors there, but given the realities of her marriage it was something she had looked forward to in her dotage. Still, the pretty grey stone house would never be hers now, and, like many other things promised to her, she would have to learn to do without it.
She smiled up at her grandmother as Violet joined her at the little table outside. While the sky still looked laden with rain, the downpour itself had let up for a while and they had decided to use the opportunity to take their tea outside for a breath of fresh air.
Violet noticeably regarded in her granddaughters outfit with pleasure as she took her seat, and a pleased twinkle gleamed in Mary's eyes as she returned the smile, noting where her grandmother's gaze had been.
The elder woman, never one for preamble, began the conversation abruptly. "Now, your father tells me you are off to London again."
Mary reached across the table and began to warm the teapot, just as she had been taught to do in this very setting in her childhood; '…otherwise it might shatter. This was your great-aunt Sarah's teapot - if it doesn't shatter, the cold pot will make the tea as frigid as her spinster heart, and that would never do.' She realised that her Granny was similarly warming up for an inquisition, and the familiarity of the little ceremony was something to focus her mind on as she navigated the rocky course of trying to explain her business in London. "Yes."
"But you've only just come back."
Mary shook her head in fond exasperation as she poured the milk into the cups; 'Never the other way, Mary. You must not scald the milk. No English Lady would ever allow herself to scald the milk.' "Granny, I last went in February- it's been 3 months, nearly 4, since I was last there."
"I have no patience for all this to-ing and fro-ing you young people take on. What takes you there this time?"
"Business," Mary said shortly, not looking up from her duties, hoping to curtail the conversation as she did her answer.
Violet rapped her stick on the ground, not in anger, but the irritation of not getting her way in the conversation. "My dear that means nothing more to me this time that it has any of the other times you have said it. You are not in business, Mary. You are a Lady, not a tradesman's daughter. It's not as if you have a job."
"No, but there are the properties left to me through Patrick's estate. It's the business of those that I have to go for."
"Well we all have holdings, my dear. Surely Murray is taking care of that for you?"
"The thing is, Granny, I don't want Murray to take care of this for me. I want someone else to do it. Someone I can trust."
Violet assessed her shrewdly- Mary had never taken to histrionics, if she had set against Murray there was probably a reason for it. "And you can't trust Murray?"
Mary shook her head decisively, "No."
Her grandmother pursed her lips in disapproval when it was clear that there were no further details forthcoming. "Well then," she huffed, her annoyance clear in her tone.
Feeling guilty for her shortness, Mary tried to offer a little explanation. "That's why I have to go to London. I want to find someone I can trust to look after things- income from those properties may be all I ever have now that Patrick is gone."
Still no clearer, her grandmother pressed. "So what is it you need exactly?"
What could Mary tell her? Yes, she clearly knew some of Patrick's behaviour, but to lay the particulars out in front of her elderly grandmother, or in front of anyone, really - surely she could not! She would have to dissemble.
"You see Patrick had some…friends… living in those houses. Friends of his that I no longer want to associate with now that he's gone. The only thing is, other friends of his, important friends, want the friends with the leases to stay..."
Violet interrupted her, waiving her hand. "My dear, I'm getting quite lost in all this talk of different groups of friends- it's worse than trying to work out where we stand with the Ottoman's in Persia."
Her grandmother had no idea that her comparative had some unbidden meaning for her granddaughter. Mary momentarily allowed her thoughts to be drawn into contemplation of her ill-fated lover. It had been months since Mr Pamuk's visit, and subsequent death, and he rarely crossed her mind. She supposed their assignation had been fun while it lasted, just more-so for him…until its rather abrupt ending. Ah, well. There were plenty more fish in the sea than ever came out of it if she decided to go down that route again.
Violet continued on unaware, of Mary's lapse of attention. "What you want is to get rid of these people, who I assume have some influential backers, not to mention legal holdings on your properties?"
Simple and to the point, Mary thought. Why hadn't she been able to get it across like that? Never let it be said her grandmother didn't have a way with words. "Yes."
Violet nodded and looked away across the roses, deep in thought. "I…I think perhaps I know just the man." When she looked back to Mary, there was resoluteness about her expression that the younger woman knew from experience not to argue with. While the plan had yet to be divulged, Mary knew she would not like it.
"I hope I'm not a disappointment?" Despite her opening, Violet was almost gleeful to have caught the young lawyer off guard and worked extremely hard to keep her expression somewhat neutral.
Matthew was astonished that any of the Downton ladies would condescend to see him at work. That Cousin Violet was the Lady Grantham announced, rather than Cousin Cora, who was slightly less disparaging of his role in life, shocked him to the point where it was a few seconds before he could say anything. That she, in particular, should deign to set foot in his place of work was something that Matthew had never contemplated, even in his wildest dreams, so in answer to her question, disappointment was certainly not the first thing that crossed his mind!
After stumbling through the usual pleasantries and offering refreshment, Matthew gestured to the chair opposite his desk and, when Cousin Violet took it, fairly fell into his own seat, glad that it was there to catch him. Given that Matthew had absolutely no idea what she could possibly be there for, her topic of conversation could only possibly be a surprise to him. And indeed it was.
"You did such a good job of properly investigating your inheritance before you joined us at Downton. Far and away beyond what I believe Murray attempted, but then, you were the one that would have suffered most from any discovery."
The family matriarch looked pointedly at Matthew and so he felt obliged to make a reply, even though there had been no questions in her opening gambit, only a series of statements. The fact that she had him on the back foot was obvious in his stammered reply.
"I-in some ways you're right, m-m-my research was extensive." He cleared his throat and tried again. "I don't wish to claim that Mr Murray has any ignorance of the law, or make any trouble, but I felt it best to make absolutely sure I was not to benefit at Cousin M-Mary's expense." Indeed, he had looked at every possible avenue and, if they were not prepared to make moves to break the entail, benefit from it he would.
Violet nodded sagely, already largely assured of this young man's good character. She now believed in him almost as much as she had been sceptical of him initially. "Putting it bluntly, you have already shown that you are willing to do what's right by this family, and it's in light of that morality that I would like to ask a delicate favour of you."
Violet leaned forward in order to make eye-contact, and in doing so, nearly fell out of her swivel chair. Having righted herself, not without some characteristic harangues through which Matthew battled to keep his countenance, she looked at him steadily.
Matthew thought, not for the first time, that he was being weighed and measured by one of the most astute people he had ever come across, and it was clear that both of them were ready to get to the point.
"What is it that I can do for you, Cousin Violet?"
"It's about Mary." She paused, watching him carefully to see if she could see anything in his face in response to the mention of Mary's name. She thought she saw something, a flicker, unfortunately she would be hard pressed to name the emotion behind it and, given his fractious relationship with her eldest granddaughter it could have been anything between love and loathing. "I'm not sure if she's in trouble or just has some things to sort out. Either way she needs some help, and I think you may be able to offer it."
Cousin Mary needed his help? And yet it was her grandmother that sat in his little Ripon office, the last place he ever through he'd see her, petitioning for it. Did Mary really dislike him so much that she wouldn't come to him if she needed him? And what on earth would she need him for, anyway? He frowned. "Of course, if there is anything I can do…".
"I don't understand the exact nature of what is going on." Violet waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. "She tried to sketch something out for me in very vague terms but there is more to it than she wants to tell me." She looked him dead on. "Indeed, there is something about Patrick that she doesn't want any of us to know."
Matthew nodded his head, slowly. Pieces of the puzzle that made up Cousin Mary were very slowly coming together. So there was something in the cryptic clue she had offered him back in December. Although it had never been touched upon again it was something that played on his mind occasionally. There are two types of widows; the bereaved and the relieved.
"Mary has…tentatively suggested to me that her marriage was not entirely happy, but has not relayed any details."
"Yes, well there must be more to it than that. More than even I know. Before Patrick died I knew there was something not right, and I'd heard a few rumours, but nothing that seemed out of character for a young man of his station. A little gadding about town- nothing he wouldn't have grown out of in a few years. Or so I thought. After he died… well, things became clearer as word made its way to me from London, and I know now that that boy was no good for her."
"So you knew nothing untoward at the time of their marriage?" Matthew wanted to be very clear on this point. While Cousin Mary was largely a mystery to him, he had managed to discern a little about her character and some things were very clear; if Mary was holding back from her family she either blamed them, or was protecting them. Or both.
"I knew very little, and nothing that would have dissuaded me that it was a good match for both of them. He was to inherit Downton, she is of steady character. If that had been the end of it, they would have done well together. They were not in love, but neither had either of their parents been, or their grandparents, initially. Mary may have known more of Patrick at the time - she protested the marriage from the start, but then I think she would have done that anyway, just from the way we, her parents and I, went about it." She paused and sighed heavily, her look remorseful. "She was right not to want to go through with it. I'm just glad she's out of it now."
Matthew blew out his cheeks and nodded slowly. This was surely a can of worms and he still wasn't sure why he should be the one to open it.
"I'll try. I'll help where I can, of course, but do you have any idea of the nature of Cousin Mary's trouble?"
Violet nodded once in return. It felt like her relentless gaze had not lifted from Matthew the entire time they had spoken. "There's some reason she won't trust Murray, and it's something to do with the legacy left to her in Patrick's will. I know there is some property, and that there is trouble with contracts. It may not be quite your…" she paused and Matthew could see she was trying very hard not to pull a sour face, "…specialty, but I think you could be the man to help." She studied him seriously for a moment. "You'll need to get Mary to talk to you. That won't be easy."
As if he didn't know that! To keep from being rude he only repeated, "I'll try."
Try, Matthew certainly would, and the matter was turning over and over in his head- so much so that he needed a distraction. He couldn't face going home, a place where he had been holed up for over a month due to the rain, just yet. Wandering past the fair, he decided to stop in- embarrassing himself at the Coconut Saloon seemed as innocent a diversion as any.
Innocent past-time it was, but it did not prove diverting as the person at the forefront of Matthew's mind appeared out of the corner of his eye. She was some way away still, so he covertly studied her as she drifted through the bustling fairground. In the centre of the good-natured mayhem, full of lights and music, a helter-skelter gaily painted with happy scenes and coloured bunting dripping from the trees, he realised there was something distinctly odd about her appearance. In her weeds she naturally stood in contrast to the gaiety, but there was something about her appearance that evening that nagged at him and he just couldn't put his finger on it.
Instead, seeing her now after a break of some weeks he was mentally telling himself not to be overly affected by her presence- Lord, but she was stunning. Probably the most effortlessly beautiful woman he had ever seen. He had recognised her from a distance easily enough- there had been several months of uneasy interaction with Cousin Mary by now, save Christmas. He and his mother had not spent this first Christmas at Downton. Of course they had been asked to join the family festivities, but having been so caught up in the move and then coming to terms with learning about the estate, they had yet to make a trip back to see their friends and family in Manchester. The festive season had offered the perfect excuse, and Matthew time off work, to do so.
Matthew had also not wanted to push Cousin Mary. Since that December morning when she had admitted to him that her relationship with her husband was not what he had expected their rapport had improved to what may now have been called a tentative truce. There was distinctly less bite to her tone when she conversed with him, and occasionally she even initiated their interactions. It was clear that she was still wary of him at times, and there had been no repeat of her imparting confidences but now, past Easter, when weather permitted, they had managed several interactions a week where cordiality, and occasionally good humour, was possible between them.
Before she noticed him and his inaction at his chosen game he turned away, still tracking her progress in his peripheral vision. He thought that when she recognised him she would turn and take another path but instead she drew closer and then, in short order, was at the point at which he needed to acknowledge her. They exchanged small smiles in greeting.
He gestured to the booth he stood in front of. "Thought I'd have a go before I went home. How about you?" He paid the stall holder for both of them without waiting for her answer.
If she was surprised by his offer, it was only momentarily and she was game. After all, Mary though, I'm allowed a little fun, now. "Thank you."
They both took aim, and both missed. Matthew, his mind still occupied by thoughts of her- her grandmother's puzzling request and her strange appearance - mentally chastised himself for letting Cousin Mary distract him so thoroughly. If she was going to be this bad for his concentration he hoped she never attended the village cricket matches.
Realising he was off his game anyway, he cocked his arm for another throw away shot as he turned his mind to other matters. "Do you know if your father's doing anything this evening?"
Mary gave him a wry look. "He's not coming to the fair."
"Seriously."
Slightly taken aback by his tone, she raised an eyebrow. They were at a fair, after all- were jocularity and fun not the name of the game? Apparently not for Cousin Matthew. "Well, having dinner with his family."
"Can I look in afterwards?" As neither of them was paying much attention to the game now, Matthew was somewhat relieved that his poor performance was likely to go unnoticed, or at least unremarked upon. Mary appeared to be as bad a shot as he was proving to be, anyway.
"May I ask why?"
"Some estate matters, but…" he looked at her for a moment, and she could see he was debating something with himself before he turned back to throw again. "I was rather hoping to speak to you as well."
"For the estate matter?" Her interest was clearly piqued at the prospect, and it was possibly the most animated Matthew had ever seen her. It was then he realised he should have been asking her about estate matters. All these months when he'd been trying to get her on side, striving for an opportunity to converse with her, and he'd had the perfect excuse all along. The estate was something she was interested in and something that made her happy- indeed it was clear she was passionate about it.
He would ask her about Downton, he decided, just as soon as they had other matters out of the way. "Actually your grandmother paid me a visit this afternoon and well…" he judged her response and seeing her look faintly panicked, he back-peddled, not wanting to force his help on her or any confidences she was not happy to give it. "…never mind, but I would like to see him."
"Granny came to see you? Did she relate anything of import? Anything that would greatly matter?"
He gave her a long look and moved towards his bicycle. Mary, intrigued by his lack of an answer, and his assessing look, followed. It was clear that he was uncomfortable with whatever he and her grandmother had spoken about so she decided to make it somewhat easier on both of them by engaging in some small talk- something that they had never done before really, not even since her thoughts, and behaviour, towards him had thawed. "So are you enjoying your new life?"
"Yes, I think so. I know my work seems very trivial to you." No matter how much you may need me, he thought.
"Not necessarily. Sometimes I rather envy you, having somewhere to go every morning."
Matthew scoffed gently. "I thought that made me very middle-class."
Mary rolled her eyes in reply, chiding gently. "You should learn to forget what I say. I know I do." They didn't really know each other well enough to truly jest about each other's foibles, but these tentative steps were nice, and it felt good to be joking light-heartedly with someone again.
Matthew smiled, relieved by the jovial turn the conversation had taken, but steered it back towards the matter at hand, knowing that he would have to broach much more than the superficial if he was going to get her to open up to him as her grandmother had suggested he should. "But I should ask you the same. Both our lives have undergone a great change lately, so what about you? Is your life proving satisfactory?"
It took a moment for her to respond but when she did her words were heavy with meaning. "Actually, in some ways I'm certainly better off."
They shared a long look at this; Matthew desperate to know more about her marriage, and Mary seemingly daring him to ask. Deciding this was not the time, Matthew broke their gaze and, with a rueful smile, Mary continued;
"But in others I have regressed to where I was three years ago- choosing clothes and paying calls, working for charity and doing the season." She huffed in frustration at the thought, "although half of those things I won't be doing for another year. First we're stuck in a waiting room until we marry, and then we're our husband's property. No one ever really prepares you for anything else and yet when it happens all they offer you is useless platitudes. Your life is thrown into confusion, shaken at its very foundation, and all in aid of a man who…well the less said about that the better."
Matthew hesitated momentarily, weighting up the opening she had intentionally given him. Ultimately, it was an opportunity that might never be repeated in such a friendly, informal setting and he saw that he had to take it.
"Actually, Cousin Mary, your grandmother thinks I should hear more about your situation, if you feel up to it. She seems to think there might be something I could do… to help you…. as a solicitor, with any legal troubles you might be having in the aftermath of your marriage."
Mary's eyes widened in incredulity- this was her grandmother's solution to her problems? This was just the man to help her? "Granny thinks you can help me does she? And did she tell you what I need help with?"
"She didn't, she left that to you, but I see now I've made you angry."
Mary closed her eyes and shook her head quickly. "My life…my situation makes me angry. Not you."
Despite her words, her tone was terse as she contemplated exactly what her grandmother could have said to him. In a way Granny was right- she wanted someone to believe in, someone she could trust - ultimately someone she could share her burden with and Matthew, looking at her with such genuine sympathy and willingness to understand, might be just the man. She saw again the good man she had seen after Pamuk's death. It had been in him all along, and now that she recognised it- perhaps he was the right person for her to confide in?
While Mary was not completely opposed to the idea, she was always leery of laying out her personal history in front of anyone, particularly the family. She did not appreciate the way her grandmother had backed her into a corner again. Once again making her dependent on a man- making her vulnerable to him if she told him everything he would need to know to help her. That familiar feeling of external control made her cautiously defensive.
"I really would like to help you, and your grandmother seems to think I can…" Mary was eyeing him wryly. Matthew took her look and hesitation as disbelief in his abilities. He stopped walking and threw his hands up and began gesticulating in agitated exasperation. "…but you have to give me a chance! For starters, you have to acknowledge that my middle class beginnings can be useful for something! And while you're at it, you could try and sympathise with my position – you are not the only one whose life has been turned upside down recently- whose plans have been forever changed by circumstance!"
For Mary, his attack, based on misunderstanding and the fact that they didn't know each other well enough yet, came out of nowhere. She was left her on the back foot and some of their old heat flared between them.
"Oh yes, it must have been so difficult for you to be raised up beyond your wildest expectations, having done absolutely nothing to deserve it!" By now their voices had raised, more in passion than anger, but they were far enough from the fair, and its muffling music, to come to anyone's attention.
In her experience men were changeable, and while she saw his inherent goodness, he would surely now, and in the future, be tested by the same feelings of entitlement that had led Patrick astray. Maybe she should open up to him and let him see where it could all go wrong if he let it. Let him learn from Patrick's folly and complacency.
Almost immediately and unknowingly, he put those fears to rest for her. "I've done nothing to deserve your censure either- I didn't want this! I was working my way up to being a named partner at my firm in Manchester. In a few years I would have contemplated a move to London to make my name- perhaps in the judiciary, or maybe politics. That is the life I wanted. It still is, really. Not all of us want to spend our lives in idleness."
"Well I didn't either- I wanted to work for this estate and the people on it."
That took some of the wind out of his sails, and his shoulders slumped heavily. His tone, when he spoke again, was remorseful. "I know, and you have, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I argued with you, but I want you to know that not everything is rosy in my garden, either."
After a moment Mary nodded. Actually, she had never contemplated the idea that he might have had plans for his life before becoming the heir. Oh, he had mentioned trying to give up the legacy but not that he had had somewhere else, someone else, to be. That she was not the only one with disappointed hopes continued her softening outlook towards him and there was a new air of understanding between them as they continued on the path together.
More sedate now, he held out an olive branch to her. "Perhaps you'd also like to be there for my talk with your father?"
She eyed him sceptically again, trying to judge if he really was interested in her input or if he was trying to placate her. She could see only earnestness in his expression. "After dinner then?" she asked tentatively.
"After dinner," he smiled graciously. "Good day, Cousin Mary."
"Just…Mary."
"Mary, then. Good day." He smiled wider and she nodded and looked away, not wanting to be more affected by him than she already was. She was not accustomed to the idea of having someone on her side, someone that was willing to try and understand her and break through the defences she put up. Sybil, her only other real confidant, was her little sister and needed too much to be protected to hear the whole truth. This new arrangement would take some getting used to.
I'm sorry, this one has ended up being a bit of a filler chapter. I know not a huge amount happened but it's setting the scene, and quite the scene I hope it proves to be.
I hope you enjoyed it anyway- please let me know what you thought by pressing the pretty blue button. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time- your overwhelmingly positive comments on the Pamuk events meant the world to me :D
