The Audley was an exquisite late Victorian pub which boasted burgundy velvet trimmed seats, small tables, dark wood paneling and still had its original chandeliers. A cozy symbol of the Empire. It was a short walk from the house, which Matthew made short work of walking briskly through the wet Mayfair streets, his umbrella over his head shielding him from a down pour. They had been many times and he knew Mary would be there; as he paused in front of one of the glowing windows he saw her at a table, preoccupied and staring down in to a drink.

She looked up as he shook the rain off the umbrella and his coat. "I must be too predictable if you knew precisely where I am, without so much as a phone call." Her tone was warm, but guarded.

He smiled. "I love this place, too." A barman stepped over and asked him what he wanted. He glanced at Mary's glass and made the simplest choice. "I'll have what she's having."

The bar tender noted it. "Bourbon it is, sir." And he was gone.

Matthew wanted to break the ice carefully. He raised a brow as he sat down across from her. "An American Bourbon at the Audley?" He chided her. "It's practically treason—better not let on to George." The bartender returned and set a glass down in front of him.

Mary leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "Some couples have a song. But since we don't, I suppose we have a drink. Bourbon, like we had at the Parker House." As she looked at him she was drawn to his allure. Disheveled from a jaunt in the rain, his playful pale blue eyes and damp blond hair stirred her. Despite her emotions she felt her heart flutter. She wanted to rebuke herself for feeling like a school girl, but the truth was she liked it.

He gave her a funny look. "I'm sure we have a song, don't we?" She shook her head, so he raised his glass and tapped it against hers. "Well we'll have to get one," he said taking a long sip from the drink.

He let the remark drift away and looked at her, letting the silence settle between them before beginning his apology. "Mary, about what I said back at the house…I didn't mean…"

"I'm not mad about it, really I'm not." Her voice was earnest as she sipped her bourbon, her stoic armor returned and fully intact. "I shouldn't have said anything."

He reached a hand across the table and placed it on hers. "You were right to say what you did, and you were right all along. Emma was at the park. If I had taken your advice and just gone back and looked harder I would have found her and the cat up in a damn tree hours ago." He tried to sound sincere and apologetic at the same time. "I know how much you care about her." His hand gently brushed over hers affectionately and he thought he detected something else in her eyes.

"Yes, I care about her very much." Mary nodded, but then turned her face away. Her lips trembled as he squeezed her hand. "I was so very worried about her, you see."

"I know you were."

"And I was so very worried about you, too." Her voice cracked as she blinked tears back, struggling to keep her emotions below the surface. "I was worried about both of you!"

Matthew moved his seat and sat down beside her, one arm on the back of her chair, cocooning them from the hustle & bustle of the bar. He touched two fingers to her chin and gently tugged until she was facing him, tears trickling down her cheeks. "Oh, Mary."

She blinked back at him. "I care for her so very much. It's silly, I know, but I even have a mobile now so I can get her little texts about her day." She touched a finger to the phone on the table and pressed her lips together, feeling ridiculous at her emotions. "I was so worried, but I know you are her father and her mother."

He rested his forehead against hers. "I am so, so very sorry." He remembered when they went to Boston and he had asked her about not having a mobile phone and she said she didn't have many friends. His heart ached in his chest. How could he have missed this?

"And I would never do anything that would interfere with her mother's memory."

"I know." He kissed her cheek, tasting a small tear, a tiny ocean on his lips.

She sniffled. "And I was worried about you, and what if…" She raised a hand to her mouth, lowering her voice. "I know I'm not her mother. But over the past nine months I've grown to love her."

"And I'm so grateful you have." He whispered. "Please forgive me." He reached in to his pants pocket and retrieved a white handkerchief and offered it to her.

"Thank you." She whispered and blew her nose, finding her composure. "And that's the thing I've been sitting here thinking about."

He cocked his head and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

She sniffled in to the handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. "That if we stopped seeing each other tomorrow, you and Emma would still have each other…but I would have lost you both." She looked at him, searching his eyes for understanding. "Matthew, you said you always want to shield Emma from disappointment and loss. Well I have to do the same thing for myself." She clutched a hand to her chest. "I have to protect my own heart."

He looked hurt and crest fallen. "What are you saying? That you want to end things?" He emotionally kicked himself for his selfish behavior during the search for Emma, and maybe for the previous nine months. How could he have been so blind?

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. "No, of course not. But things are a bit more complicated now. I know that sounds forward, and please don't misread anything in to it, but I have to be honest about my feelings."

As he looked at her he realized he had selfishly kept her at bay all afternoon, like a friend of the family; not the woman he knew both he and his daughter loved. "I know." He sighed. He gently squeezed her hand. "I've been a single parent for such a long time. It's really just been Emma and me, and…" His voice trailed off. "There's just never been anyone else in our lives. And I know it's not fair to you or to Emma." He reached a hand up and brushed a hair from her cheek. "But I want to change that if you'll help me?"

Her lips turned up in a wistful smile, her brown eyes large and trusting. "I'd like that too." She leaned forward and kissed him, her lips pressing a soft, chaste kiss against his. He hummed quietly, feeling the emotional current in his body soothed and warmed by her affection. They smiled at each other. The spell of their cocoon was broken and the chatty, busy sounds of the pub swirled around them again.

"Alright then," he started, placing money on the table for their drinks. "I think we have a young lady who still needs a talking-to." He stood, still holding her hand in his and tugging it playfully. "Shall we?"

Mary nodded and followed him toward he door. "Um, Matthew, there's one more thing."

He looked over at her. "What's that?"

She smiled wryly. "About the cat…."

~~00~~

The door to Emma's room was ajar. Matthew lightly knocked against it and the door quietly opened. "Emma?" He saw her curled on her side, looking out the window.

"Yes, Daddy?" She looked over at him and sat up against the pillows.

"May I come in?" His voice was soft and he paused as Mary stood beside him.

She nodded. "Uh-huh." Her hands fidgeted with a stuffed mouse. "I was just counting the birdies outside my window."

He sat down on the bed beside her. "I think we need to have a talk."

She looked up at him apprehensively. "Am I still in trouble?"

"Afraid so." He rested a hand on top of hers. "But do you understand why I'm cross?"

She looked up at him under her lashes, still wet with tears. "Coz I've been a bad girl."

He shook his head. "Emma, you are not a bad girl." He said reassuringly and patted her hand. "But you did make a few mistakes and worried me terribly. Do you know why?"

Emma thought for a moment and then nodded. " Coz' I helped the kitty?"

"No," he quickly clarified. "I'm proud of you for helping the cat." He raised a hand and tenderly brushed her bangs from her forehead. "Helping animals and people is a good thing." He tilted his head. "Can you think of another reason?"

Her eyes blinked as she pondered the question. "Coz' I climbed the tree without a grown up?"

"That's right." He confirmed gently. "You know the rule—no tree climbing without a grown up and that means me, or Mary or Grandmamma."

At the sound of her name, Mary stepped closer and stood beside the bed to join them, her hands behind her back.

"And?" He prompted her.

Emma rubbed an eye as she thought. "And I wandered off?"

"That's right." He squeezed her small hands in his. "Emma, when we tell you to stay in the neighborhood and to be home at a certain time, you must obey that. Do you understand?" She nodded up at him and her innocence pulled at his heart as he spoke. "I…" he stopped and corrected himself, "We were worried sick about you, young lady. I know this is a safe neighborhood, but our rules are for your protection. Do you understand me?"

Emma looked at him, her blue eyes filled with youthful sorrow. "Am I going to get a spanking?"

Matthew sighed. "No, you are not going to get a spanking. But," he raised his index finger to underline his point, "we do need to consider something." He looked up at Mary. "What do you think Mary?" Emma's eyes followed his and she blinked up at her.

Mary was suddenly on the spot as two identical sets of sky blue eyes looked up at her. They had talked about her involvement in speaking with Emma, but she hadn't anticipated Matthew would throw her the ball regarding discipline. "Oh, well," she began nervously, thinking quickly as possible and then it came to her. "Hmmm….well, your housekeeper Mrs. West is going on holiday for several weeks. It seems to me some of her chores will need to be done."

Matthew saw where she was going and liked it. "Yes, precisely. Chores."

Emma leaned up on her knees, clutching the mouse. "You mean like dusting?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, dusting."

Emma blinked up at her. "And, and….tidying the kitchen?"

"That's right…" And then Mary announced the most conspicuous chore. "And toilets." The room fell silent.

Emma's eyes widened and she let out a surprised whisper. "Toilets?"

Matthew arched an approving brow. "Oh, that's brilliant."

Mary nodded. "That's right, toilets. Potties. There are three of them in the house and they will each need to be cleaned during the week. I think that's sufficient punitive damages."

Emma looked at Matthew and whispered. "What's poonative?"

He smiled. "Punitive….and it means punishment. But I think we can help you a little bit."

Emma pursed her lips and looked down at the mouse. "Ok."

Mary and Matthew shared a knowing look and she let out a breath. "Now that the chores are settled there is one more thing." Mary moved a hand from behind her back, which held the gray kitten. Its injured paw had a white gauze bandage that Isobel tied around it. "Now that you've saved this little kitten, it needs a home and someone to love him and be his new mum." She smiled warmly at Emma.

Emma's expression immediately brightened. "Chuck!" She exclaimed with joy. As Mary handed the tiny kitten to her, it's small, chubby body squirmed in to the crook of Emma's neck and purred.

Matthew laughed. "Chuck? You named the cat Chuck?"

Emma nodded. "Yes, see? He's a boy." She held the kitten up in an awkward position, revealing its hind quarters. "If we had a little brother, I would call him Chuck." She smiled happily.

He nodded approvingly. "At least it means I'm no longer the only man around the house." He scratched the kitten's ears and it purred affectionately.

"Alright then," Mary announced, "shall we have some dinner? I'm starved."

Walking out of the bedroom, Matthew whispered in Mary' ear "Cleaning the loo is genius. How did you think of it?"

She smirked up at him. "Because I got in to quite a bit of mischief as a child and had to clean the lavvies at Downton. It sounds like a reform school, but I never made the same mistake twice."

He chuckled and watched as she caught up to Emma. The little girl reached up and took Mary's hand. "Can I wear gloves to clean the potties?"

"Yes, of course, sweetheart. And I'll help you."

"Can Chuck help, too?"

"Of course he can." Mary replied reassuringly as they walked down the stairs together, hand in hand.

Standing back and looking ahead, Matthew realized something for the first time. Chuck wasn't the only little one who had found a new mother. Mary had been right, things had become more complicated; but in a way that made his heart feel like all was right with the world.

And now he needed to do something about it.

~~00~~

In the quiet, late hour of the house, Mary sat on the edge of the upstairs guest bed, brushing her hair. She wore navy blue sweat pants with a matching zip-up velour hoodie. She always dressed as reserved as possible at Matthew's home with his daughter at home and Isobel popping in and out. It was important to her to be discreet, especially in front of Emma.

Pulling the brush through her hair she thought about the day…a long, emotional, exhausting day. Exhausting, yes, but she felt like she was a part of something special.

Matthew….what was it he had said? I want to change that if you'll help me. Change what, she wondered? What had he meant? Living together? Marriage? She sat lost in thought, the bristles of the brush lulling her daydream, until she suddenly noticed him out of the corner of her eye. She turned in surprise, finding him leaning against the door frame. "Are you spying on me?" She teased him.

He smiled. "Guilty as charged. I didn't mean to startle you. I just like watching you brush your hair. I hope you don't mind." His tone was soft and warm.

She smiled and held the brush out. "Of course I don't mind. Would you like to help me?"

Quietly closing the door, he sat beside her on the bed and took the hair brush. He began gently brushing her hair, pulling it through her dark brown tresses and then smoothing it with his free hand, her soft locks slipping through his fingers. Her head fell backward at the sensation and the motion of his ministrations. Her voice became a deep whisper. "That feels so good." Her eyes closed, relishing the pleasure of his touch.

He spoke softly against her ear. "Your hair is so beautiful." He moved the brush over the sides of her head, the bristles of the brush gliding through her thick mane. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so close to another person. Perhaps it had been Laura, and now he felt himself connected to Mary in a familiar way, but which was also new and unique to her. "Thank you for all your support and help today. It meant a lot to me." He whispered.

She felt like purring at his touch, but answered his compliment instead. "I like helping you and Emma."

He brushed his lips against her ear. "She loves you." He paused, his heart beating faster at the feel of their intimacy and the truth he needed to tell her. "And so do I." It sounded awkward, so he rephrased it. "I love you, Mary." The words hung between them. They had made references to it, but had never said it to each other in no uncertain terms.

Now he had made it quite certain.

She opened her eyes and turned her head. His blue eyes were inches from hers. "You do?" She realized she was holding her breath as though time was standing still, suspended by his gaze and a line of conversation that made her feel vulnerable. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, about to step through the looking glass.

His lips formed a crooked, endearing smile. "Of course I do." He paused, realizing she looked rather stunned, which caught him off guard. He knew Mary shied away from expressing her feelings, but he began to panic. His throat went dry and his voice lost some of its certainty. "I hope I haven't embarrassed you…or myself for that matter."

Mary turned to look at him. She felt speechless. The cat got her tongue, she would have said to Emma. Her emotions overwhelmed her, but she found the words after all, as they fluttered directly from her heart up to her lips, where they could finally be set free. "No, you haven't." She said, reaching a hand out to his. "I love you, too."

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. He grazed his mouth over her skin, trailing soft kisses up her arm, his smiles evident to her as he murmured sweet nothings to her. She laughed and tumbled back on the bed, and his lips finally found hers. As he whispered an endearment against her lips, his fingers found the zipper of her hoodie and slowly pulled it down. He brushed his mouth against hers, tantalizing her and parting her lips, making her smile and silently pleading for more of her.

Permission granted…

His tongue twisted around hers as he slid over her. Fingers pulled at clothing, garments were clumsily yanked away and skin pressed against skin as their bodies wrapped round each other, their breaths mingling between whispers of love and carnal desires.

Mary's mind reeled and spun as his mouth dipped to the nape of her neck, and then to her breast, pausing to swirl his tongue around her taut peak. Her moans, like music to his ears, ignited his exploration of her body until his lips found her secret, sacred flesh where he worshipped her. He traced his tongue over her, sliding it in to the warm, wet depths of her. Her hand fisted in his hair, her back arched up off the bed and she gasped in ecstasy, panting his name as she lost control.

His hands laced with hers as he crawled up to meet her eyes again, mouths open and devouring, the taste of her on their tongues. He felt like an addict, his body tight and hard, aching for her….wet and hot. Finally a long, delirious slide in to her, and she wrapped her legs behind his knees, sending him to the edge. As his body pushed in, her hips bucked up to meet him, an unsynchronized erotic rhythm. Even in the throes of passion they met half way.

Their movements, fluid and elegant at first, became primitive and untamed. Uneven, final, jerking thrusts pushed him deeper and deeper until their bodies jolted and breathless cries filled the room.

Collapsed against each other, she pressed a kiss to his temple as he caught his breath and rested his head against her shoulder, soft sighing noises coming from deep in his chest. "I love you," he whispered in a raspy, sex filled voice.

Finding their way under the covers, she curled in to his side, safe and warm. She looked up at him, the room now in moonlight. His eyes closed, his hair mussed from their activities and a peaceful, sated expression covered his face. She kissed his jaw and spoke in a hushed tone. "I love you, too."

As her head rested back down under his chin, and sleep pulled her under, his eyes opened and he kissed her hair.