Previously:
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, October 1921
"I would have bet the entire estate," he answered. "You're worth more to me than all of it and more."
She kissed him softly. "You think far too highly of me. You're the Earl now. You have responsibilities and so many people who depend upon you to make wise decisions. There will be other women, other priorities that are far more important than…"
"Not more than you. Never more than you," he declared firmly. "No matter what becomes of us, no matter who we end up with, no matter what anyone else says…you'll live your life, and I'll live mine, but they will always pale in comparison to the life we could have had together."
She looked at him despondently, so sad and yet so happy. All her life she had been taught to be practical and deliberate, and Matthew was one of the most careful men she knew. Her family secrets had doomed them and she knew that for years, and yet they were recklessly carrying on, determined to see out each glorious second until their time was ended. For all the words used to describe Lady Mary Carlisle, defiant was not one of them. Yet, here she was, in Matthew's bed, holding her ground at last.
"The most beautiful life I'll ever know, my darling," she nodded, kissing him again.
A peal of uninhibited laughter flew to the ceiling as he turned her on to her back and she spread her legs eagerly for him.
Chapter 9:
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, October 1921
"Matthew?"
He blinked and glanced over at Mary sitting proudly in the saddle. Her cheeks were flushed from their last gallop, a quick sprint across the slight rise and down along the creek bed. The ground here was soft and wet, a fence stopping anyone from venturing too far into the muck and directing the path more gradually over to the bridge that crossed to solid land.
"Yes, darling?" he replied, focusing on her.
She smirked and nodded towards the creek. "I asked you which way you plan on taking me?"
He swallowed at her seemingly innocent question that raised thoughts within him that were anything but. He had seen her ride numerous times before, and even though her beloved Diamond was at Haxby now, she took to Valiant as if she had known him for years. An easy pat on his neck, a whisper in his ear, or a sharp sting of her crop to his hindquarters and the black stallion fell into line. Her ease on the horse didn't surprise Matthew at all. It was more her new riding position that he found shocking.
While he was not nearly the rider that she was, neither was he as incompetent as she assumed. He took a few patrols with the cavalry during the War, and after Mary left and her sisters soon followed, he found himself with leagues of property and no one to help him explore it. So, he went out each day, reliable Big Ben as his mount, and spent hours learning his lands.
Often when he was out here by himself, he would think back to the times he'd seen Mary ride, from that first meeting when she dismissed him so thoroughly before leaving with Lynch, to the numerous hunts and sprints across the fields that they both partook in. She always sat side-saddle, her long skirt hiding her legs, the reins held tight in her gloved hands.
But not today.
When she mounted Valiant, she swung a leg over and adjusted her position, finally settling on a spot a bit forward in the saddle. Matthew didn't say anything, but as he climbed aboard Big Ben, he couldn't help but notice that Mary was sitting astride her horse, her legs parted, knees bent and feet comfortably in the stirrups. They left the stables at a light trot, and seeing her sitting up on her horse conjured numerous improper thoughts that he tried with great effort to supress. It was bad enough that her jodhpurs framed her bottom and legs far more tightly than any riding dress ever did, but her form in the saddle was completely distracting.
Over the past month, he had been able to maintain some semblance of decorum when they were out in public or in the presence of Carson and the servants. He was no longer the young man who arrived at Crawley House with his mother, speaking of Robert 'throwing one of the daughters' at him and so easily stunned by her beauty. But out here where it was just the two of them, one glance at her coloured cheeks, her smiling lips, her playful eyes, and now her tightly-clad hips and arse sent his imagination running rampant.
"I suppose we should cross the bridge," he said finally, looking anywhere but at her. "Though, I expect you aren't one for going 'round the road, so jumping the fence would suit you more, wouldn't it?"
He dared to take her in again, his bright eyes and teasing smile betraying the lurid thoughts that came back full-force. The way she was crouched on her mount resembled the same way she was straddled upon him mere hours ago in his bed, and he was losing the battle to chase that vision away.
Her smile at his flirting waned when she looked over at the fence, her chest tightening as she recalled another time that she was tempted to take a similar leap. She was so full of confidence back then, or stupid arrogance, more accurately. Kemal had offered her the bait and she had taken it whole. Evelyn was waiting for her from the safety of the other side, having crossed the bridge prudently and properly. Kemal challenged her to be reckless, to give into the excitement and danger of taking a shortcut and jumping the fence with him. It was hardly a difficult pass, and Diamond took it easily, but looking back in hindsight, the challenge of the jump wasn't the point at all. Kemal wanted to know whether, if given the choice, she would do the proper thing, or dare to be wild. She had followed where he led her, not a clue as to what she was revealing to him about how naïve she was and how he could exploit her. Though Matthew tried to reassure her that she did nothing to lead the man on, that he was a monster and should never have even come to her that night, she couldn't help but think back to the way she behaved that day and night and wonder how different it all could have played out had she only been more wise.
"Mary?"
She blinked and looked back at Matthew, his warm smile still upon her, but a hint of concern was now in his blue eyes.
"There's no need to show off," she shrugged. "The bridge will do. Besides, I wouldn't want you to hurt your horse trying to clear the fence."
He looked at her curiously before nodding his head. "Very well. Lead on."
She smiled, a wave of relief washing over her. Tugging on Valiant's reins lightly, she spurred the horse forward into a smooth gait and quickly came round the bend and up across the old bridge.
"You're better than I expected, my Lord," she joked when Matthew caught up to her, the two horses falling into step. "It seems you've improved in the past years."
"Are we speaking about my horsemanship or something else?" he shot back.
She smiled. "On numerous fronts. It's fair to say that you've surprised me quite often over this past month."
He nodded and looked at her slyly. "That's a rather stunning testimonial coming from you. You're not so easily impressed."
"No, I'm certainly not," she replied.
He chuckled and looked out across the fields.
"Edith mentioned to me how you'd changed," she continued, watching him carefully. "She said that it took you longer than the rest of us to come back to yourself after Papa died, but that you emerged a new man."
He kept staring across the grounds. "She said that, did she?"
She nodded. "She did. She said that you have taken an interest in how she's doing, and how Sybil is keeping over in Ireland with Tom. I've seen myself how you've taken on your responsibilities here so very seriously. I suppose I'm wondering why."
"Is it really so surprising?" he asked, pursing his lips and looking to the horizon.
"I didn't think you would ignore your duties, no," she shook her head. "But I can understand how difficult it must have been for you these past few years."
He finally looked over at her, his face steeled but his eyes were still soft. "It's been difficult for all of us, these past few years."
She nodded solemnly.
"No matter what I may have thought when Robert first brought me here, or how much I fought against the tracers through the years, I am the Earl of Grantham now, and running away will solve nothing. I must stay, and so I do," he stated. "The well-being of our family is important to me. I encouraged Cora to get away for a bit, and for Violet to travel some herself. I like to know how everyone is faring – Edith, Sybil, and you."
She swallowed tightly. "In four days' time, I shall no longer be your concern."
"You'll always be my concern," he answered, looking at her intently. "Until the last breath leaves my body."
She pursed her lips to calm herself. "That's not our way of doing things, you know. My sisters and I are all married. We belong to our husbands now and have households of our own to manage. We grew up here, but we have no claim to it now that we're gone, just as you have no responsibility for any of us any longer."
His eyes narrowed and he looked away for a moment before glancing back at her. "Seeing as I'm the head of this family now, I shall decide just who I am responsible for, Mary."
She looked down and patted Valiant lightly. "Some would say you would be overstepping your bounds."
"Let them try and stop me, then," he answered.
She looked over at him, overwhelmed by the determination on his face.
"There's just enough time for us to see the Temple of Diana before luncheon if we hurry," he declared, his voice softening as he looked up at the overcast sky. "Come."
He moved his horse forward at a quicker pace and she followed promptly.
"I can't believe the month is almost up," Anna noted, walking slowly alongside her mistress.
"Your time in service will soon be over. You'll go back to being an innkeeper," Mary teased, giving her lady's maid a smile.
They wandered through the newly improved Rose Garden, the plants and bushes pruned and ready for winter. Over the past weeks, Mary had overseen a clean-up of the old paths so that touring the area was easier, and supervised the planting of an entire new section. She smiled as they walked, imagining just how beautiful it would all be come spring.
Anna shook her head. "Mr Bates is the innkeeper. I'm just the innkeeper's wife who serves the drinks and keeps the books."
"All the better," Mary nodded. "While Bates may be behind the bar, I'm sure you get more than your fair share of flirting soldiers coming through, don't you?"
Anna gasped in shock before breaking down and laughing a bit when she saw Mary's smiling face. "Well, a few. They're harmless, really."
"What does Bates think about how harmless they are?" Mary asked.
Anna blushed. "He gets a little jealous. I probably allow them to go on for a tad more than I should, just so he doesn't get too comfortable."
Mary laughed and nodded in admiration. "Well said. Never allow your husband to become too complacent."
Anna nodded, her smile dropping a bit as she thought of just what kind of marriage Lady Mary must be returning to. Though she didn't know very much about Sir Richard beyond what she saw of him before, that was already enough for her to decide she didn't much like the man. She had noticed a visible change in Lady Mary over the past weeks. She seemed far happier than when she first arrived even. Anna feared for how that might change once she returned to Haxby.
"You should come by and see for yourself," Anna suggested. "When you come back from London in the New Year."
Mary smiled forlornly but nodded just the same. "I will. I expect that you'll be seeing much more of me than before."
"It would be our honour, Milady," Anna nodded, though she suspected that Lady Mary was simply being courteous. Since her wedding, Lady Mary seldom ventured out on her own to the Village, and Sir Richard would surely keep a tight watch over her after she spent a month with His Lordship. Though Anna did not know what the two of them got up to in the evenings after she and Bates went back to their cottage, it was obvious that they were on friendlier terms now than before. Sir Richard would be incensed to see the easy manner they shared, which meant that Lady Mary would be kept away from the Grantham Arms and anywhere else that His Lordship frequented.
"As much as I enjoy our life now, it has been so very fun being back here," Anna stated. "It's reminded us of all the time we spent here, all the history we have in this house."
Mary nodded. "I never thought I would return here for more than a day, let alone an entire month."
"You've enjoyed your stay, though?" Anna dared to ask.
Mary smiled and looked over the garden with satisfaction and pride. "I have, Anna. More than I ever imagined I would."
"My Lord, a package has arrived for you from London," Carson announced, bringing the small box into the study and placing it down on the desk.
Matthew looked up from his book and glanced at it briefly before resuming his reading. "Thank you, Carson."
Carson nodded and turned for the door.
"Carson, I have several letters that need to be posted today, if you will," Matthew called, taking a stack of letters and placing them off to the side.
"Very good, my Lord," the butler answered, returning to take the letters. "I shall see to it."
"See to it personally, please, Carson," Matthew ordered. "I need them to arrive as quickly as possible, whatever the cost."
Carson frowned in puzzlement. He never posted letters for His Lordship personally. "Yes, my Lord."
"Perhaps Mrs Hughes would enjoy taking a walk down to the Village to accompany you on your mission," Matthew mentioned. "You can take tea before returning. Have them send the bill to me."
Carson blinked in surprise. "That's far too generous, my Lord. We both have our duties to attend to and our obligation is to…"
"Carson," Matthew interrupted him, looking up at the butler pointedly. "Take your wife out for tea. That's an order."
Carson swallowed, speechless for a moment. "Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord."
"No thanks are necessary. With Bates and Anna set to leave, the two of you are the only couple left in this house, after all. Your happiness should be encouraged," Matthew noted, going back to his book.
Carson's mouth fell open before he quickly brought himself back under composure.
"Good day, Carson," Matthew said crisply.
"Good day, my Lord," Carson bowed his head and left, his stride picking up as he went in search of his wife to give her the wonderful news.
Matthew smirked at the butler's uncharacteristic enthusiasm before he sighed and closed his book. Shaking his head, he reached for another, a frown furrowing his brow as he flipped the pages while deep in thought.
"Mary, I thought that we were having drinks in the drawing room," Matthew mumbled, following her down the darkened hallway.
"Darling, we've been going through to the drawing room for years. For one night, we can do something different, can't we?" Mary teased, squeezing his hand as she led him further along.
"Of course, yes, but I don't know why we would come over here. I don't even know where we are, exactly," he frowned, looking around as they passed one nondescript door after another.
"That is exactly the point, my Lord," she smirked. "You're at my mercy now."
He chuckled and shook his head. "So it would seem. Lead on, m'lady."
She took him deeper into the unknown wing, their footsteps echoing off the hardwood. There was no light to guide them save the pale glow filtering in through the drape-covered windows every so often. Still, Mary navigated easily, bringing him with her until after several minutes she stopped at a set of double doors at the end of their path.
"Through here," she said, nodding towards the door.
Frowning at her in confusion, he stepped forward and opened the doors. She nudged him to go in first and followed after, smiling as she closed the doors behind them.
He was surprised to see a fire was going in the hearth, the flames revealing a large bedroom. The furniture and décor seemed quite dated, though the entire room was lavishly appointed. Everything had gold accents and ornate designs. The bed featured a towering canopy with red curtains, and the matching paper on the walls was covered in gold flowers. Even though this was a long shuttered part of the house, there were fresh flowers on the dresser and vanity, the rugs were clean, and the entire room was dusted and aired out.
"What is this?" he asked, looking over at Mary curiously.
She smiled and stepped towards the fire. "This was the bedroom used by the Fourth Earl. The furniture is all Georgian era."
He nodded and looked around. "I see that. And why are we here?"
She smiled and went over to the window. "The Fourth Earl built the library that we have now. He quite enjoyed collecting books."
He frowned and watched her. "He sounds like a man after my own heart."
"Perhaps," she replied mysteriously. "He also collected horses and women."
He blinked. "Well, perhaps we do not resemble each other entirely, then."
"Oh, I don't know," she mused, wandering over to the fire before looking over her shoulder at him. "I know better than most that there's more to you than what one sees on the surface."
He approached her slowly, noticing for the first time how the light from the fire seemed to make her dress shimmer. He blinked as he seemed to be able to make out the shadow of her legs beneath the silk, and even the outline of her hips.
"Books I enjoy, yes," he nodded. "However, I only keep a few horses, and as for women, well, I should say that I have no collection to speak of."
"You say that now, but it would not be so difficult for you to start," she noted softly.
He reached her and raised his hand, trailing the back of his fingers lightly across her cheek. "I suppose that is true. I never did take the time to sample all that the world has to offer."
She swallowed as his hand moved to her neck. "The Fourth Earl used this room for his trysts. He would have whores and consorts brought up through a back entrance and send them away once he was through with them."
"Did he?" he asked, slipping his arms around her waist and up to the bodice of her dress. He trailed his fingers along the top button resting just above her chest. "That sounds quite efficient."
"His appetite was legendary, apparently," she hissed as he popped the button open. "He could go through two or three women in one night, sometimes all at once."
"I find that rather difficult to believe," he replied, moving to another button. "Wouldn't his Countess have taken issue with such debauchery?"
"She would not have had any rights back then," she breathed, his warm fingers ghosting across her bare skin as he loosened her dress. "If he wanted her to watch him or even join in, she couldn't object."
"That sounds terrible," he growled. "Isn't the thrill in finding pleasure together, rather than selfishly caring only for one's own needs and manipulating others purely ?"
She nodded. "Yes, but what does Marie Stopes say? Is she not a proponent of a woman encouraging a man's desire to hunt his prey?"
"She does write about that, yes," he agreed, slipping his hand past her dress and finding her bare breast. "I don't know how accurate that statement is, however."
"You don't think that men enjoy the chase and the conquest?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering as he fondled her.
"Maybe we do, but I will always hold that a willing and eager woman is more arousing than a docile and accommodating one," he replied.
"Perhaps you are underestimating the Countess," she suggested.
"How so?" he asked, holding her stare.
"Perhaps she was not docile at all," she answered. "Perhaps she enjoyed being wicked and wild with her husband."
He let out a harsh breath. "And what about the other women that he collected, as you say?"
"Power was as seductive then as it is now, I expect," she nodded. "Better to be claimed by the Earl of Grantham than some commoner spending his wages on one night of pleasure."
He snarled at her insinuation, thoughts of Henry and whoever else that Carlisle had made her entertain flashing in his head.
"Was that why the Fourth Earl was able to allegedly have so many women, do you think?" he asked. "His power?"
"I do not doubt that some of his conquests could have been less than pleased to be with him, but in the end they could have felt they had no choice but to obey. In those instances, the pleasure would have been his alone, and they would have merely tolerated his presence for as long as necessary," she admitted.
"But not all of them felt that way?" he questioned.
She swallowed. "Perhaps some of them enjoyed being under his power. Perhaps some of them took pleasure in pleasing him."
"Could you imagine having such desires?" he asked. His hands reached up and took hold of the neckline of her dress, his eyes feasting on her pale skin as he eased the garment off her shoulders and down her arms.
"For the right man, yes," she nodded.
"I love you, Mary," he whispered, breathing in her perfume.
She pulled her arms free of the sleeves of her dress and gasped as his hands covered her breasts. Turning her head, she kissed him softly, feeling his firm body pressed against her from behind.
"I love you," she whispered. "But what we've done has been so very wrong."
He nodded. "I know."
"You've made me an adulteress," she sighed. "I've broken my vows countless times this month to be with you."
He swallowed and kissed her again. "You have."
"I've shown complete disregard for my marriage, all because you fuck me better than Richard ever has or ever could," she hissed.
"Mary," he growled, teasing her swollen flesh to firm arousal while his lips kissed her over and over.
"I can't be your mistress, no matter how badly I may want to," she moaned.
"No, that wouldn't be fair, and it's too dangerous besides," he agreed. "I wouldn't ask that of you. You deserve so much more."
"As do you," she nodded, kissing him more fiercely. "Tonight, though, I want to be wicked and wild."
"Mary," he snapped. "You don't have to…"
"Think of all the times that I ignored you," she interrupted him, her pulse speeding up as his fingers played with her. "Think of all the times I left you to the side to chase after some fool. Think of how I didn't answer your proposal right away and made you wait."
"That's not who we are anymore," he protested.
"You must have been angry with me," she continued. "You must have been incensed and enraged. You must have wanted to put me in my place."
"No," he shook his head. "You owe me nothing."
She worked her dress down and shimmied her hips to make it fall to the floor.
He groaned as he stared at her naked body glowing in the firelight.
"I'm leaving you soon, far too soon," she gasped. "I'm going back to him, back to a man you despise. I want you to show me what I'll be giving up."
His hand trailed down her stomach and between her legs, a groan leaving both of them as he felt her arousal. She cried out as he stroked her, his other hand moving up to tease her lips and tongue.
"Is that why you brought me here?" he demanded.
She nodded, her eyelids struggling to stay open. "We can be anyone we want here. You can be the all-powerful Earl who won another man's wife in a poker match."
"And you?" he whispered. "Who do you want to be?"
"Anyone you want me to be. Your consort. Your whore," she breathed between kisses, her cheeks flushing from arousal and shame.
"Mary," he growled. "I could never think of you as anything other than the love of my life."
She grinned and nodded, taking in his leering gaze.
"That doesn't mean you can't be rough and demanding with me," she breathed. "Fuck me, Matthew. Fuck me hard. I want you to. Only you will ever have me like this."
He kissed her heatedly, groaning as he felt her hand reach back and squeeze him through his trousers.
"Get on the bed," he snarled, fondling her one last time before he nudged her forward.
She stepped out of her dress and walked over to the bed, feeling him right behind her. Reaching it, she turned and sat down elegantly, though her wide eyes showed only lust.
He reached out his hand and caressed her cheek before moving down and taking a firm hold of the back of her neck.
She nuzzled against his hand before leaning towards him. Bringing her hands up, she quickly undid his trousers and threw them down his legs together with his pants.
"You're the only man who's ever been in my mouth," she breathed harshly as she took hold of him. "Do you like knowing that you made me please you this way?"
He grunted as she kissed him and ran her tongue all over his hard length.
"You're much bigger than my husband," she stated before taking him in.
"Mary!" he called, her wanton attentions setting his mind afire. He struggled to throw off his jacket and undo his shirt, watching her take more and more of him with each pass. Eventually, he could no longer keep his hips still and he thrust forward, his fingers running through her hair as she let him set the pace. He was able to pull back before he lost complete control, but the evidence of her effect on him was obvious.
"I used to abhor sex," she drawled sultrily, moving backwards up the bed as he crawled forward and stalked her. "I never thought it would ever be enjoyable."
"And now?" he asked, capturing her ankles and spreading her legs. He moved over her, his devilish smile poised above her stomach.
"My views on sex haven't changed," she stated, arching her eyebrow playfully. "However, making love to you is proving to be quite fun."
He chuckled and kissed his way up her leg. "Fun is a good word, though a woman of your elevated vocabulary can surely find others?"
She sighed in anticipation as he kissed his way along her waist. "Maybe, if I had sufficient inspiration."
"My thoughts exactly, my darling," he whispered before resting her thighs on his shoulders and dropping his head.
"Matthew!" she cried, her body arching and her hands reaching out to grasp the blankets as he slipped his tongue inside. "Oh God!"
"Am I the only man to do this to you, Mary?" he taunted her, his fingers joining in his mouth in driving her mad.
"Yes! Oh, yes! Only you!" she moaned, turning her head as he built her up. Her hand reached down shakily across her stomach and found the back of his head. Crying out, she pulled him in, her hips lifting wantonly to offer herself up to him.
He devoured her with merciless precision, pressing down on her with his fingers just as her eyes rolled back and she shouted out her release. She still couldn't understand how he had drawn this side of her to the fore, made her someone who craved, and desired, and wanted all he had to offer. She didn't wish to compare him to Richard or Kemal or anyone else, but how could she not? What he did to her was far beyond anything she'd ever felt before.
She felt him kiss his way up her body, his hands strong and firm as they turned her over on to her side. His arms came around her and pulled her back, his body fitting in behind her, his hips moving against hers. Her mind was too dazed to guess at what he intended for her, but she was too weak to resist anyway. The warmth of his hold and the lure of his scent drew her in, and when he moved her leg forward, she complied, only to cry out in shock when he thrust home.
"Matthew!" she moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder, his arms keeping her trapped in place. Without any leverage she rocked back and forth in rhythm with his motions, unable to do anything but take all of him again and again.
"Mary, Mary," he chanted, kissing her shoulder and neck, his hold unbreakable.
A wide smile crept over her face, the familiar stirrings of another release drawing closer and closer. It was so unlike him to be so raw and aggressive, and that was what thrilled her the most. Unlike with her previous lovers, where she didn't move out of paralyzing fear or stifling disinterest, she reveled in being entirely in his grip, her body moulded to his, moving as one. She was neither a victim to be plucked, nor a trophy to be owned. She was a woman, free to do as she wanted, be who she wanted, unburdened by any scandal or worry over what her actual family name was. With Matthew, she was simply Mary, the woman he loved, the woman he wanted more than any other. The pounding of his hips held no malice or threat despite their force. It was need, and yearning, and love, and she savoured every second of it.
"Please, Mary," he begged. "Please. I want to hear you."
She arched her back and yelled, a scream of absolute rapture, confident that no one could hear them even though she was loud enough to wake the neighbours. He didn't stop, continuing to take her as she flew far beyond the edge, only prolonging her bliss.
She was still shaking when he slowed down, his lips warm and soft against her neck. He fell away from her on to his back and ran his hand through his mussed hair, breathing in deeply.
"Mmm, darling that was astounding," she purred, turning over and kissing his chest. "How do you ever imagine such ideas?"
He laughed and caressed her back, a low groan leaving his lips when she kissed her way lower down his body.
"Watch me," she ordered, arching her eyebrow at him before she took him into her mouth again.
His eyes went wide as she serviced him, still stunned all these weeks later that it was she who was with him, she who was loving him. Their time left together was short, yet he couldn't think of that now, lying here in splendour with Mary naked before him.
"How do you want me next, my Lord?" she asked, looking up at him mischievously while she stroked him. "Shall I guess?"
He exhaled sharply when she crawled past him on her hands and knees, reaching up and taking hold of the headboard.
Rising to his knees, he moved behind her, his one hand taking hold of her hip while the other moved along her smooth back.
"You've made me quite riled up," he warned, tugging back on her hair before reaching around and cupping her breast.
"I don't believe you," she challenged, grinding her bottom against him enticingly. "You're no beast."
"Let us see," he retorted, tightening his grip and leaning over her.
She closed her eyes and grinned before he stole the air from her lungs.
Auchentroig House, Kensington, London, England, October 1921
"My Lady, a letter for you," the butler called, bowing politely and presenting a silver tray.
Lady Anne Acland took the letter and blade from the tray. She sliced the envelope open and returned it and the blade to the butler. He bowed and retreated as she unfolded the letter and read it, her face brightening with growing interest as she went.
"From one of your friends, my dear?" her father asked from his seat across from her.
She smiled and shook her head. "It's an invitation to dine at Grantham House next week."
"Ah, from Lord Grantham," her mother smiled. "How lovely."
"He is, yes, but the invitation is actually from his cousin, Lady Mary Carlisle," Anne nodded. "How nice of her. I wasn't sure if she even liked me."
"How could she not?" her mother laughed incredulously.
"Well, perhaps she wonders if I'm fit to be Countess of Grantham," Anne suggested.
"That's hardly her concern. She no longer lives at Downton Abbey. None of them do, except for him, and poor Cora," her mother noted.
"Yes, Mama, but she still must care for the fate of her family home, as well as who her cousin may choose for a wife. Remember that he proposed to her before the War," Anne stated.
"An entire lifetime ago," her mother shook her head. "She's married to Sir Richard now and is far too busy hosting parties and fundraisers to be overly concerned about her past relationships. I'm sure she's encouraging you so that Lord Grantham will get on with doing his duty, just as the Dowager Countess intended when she invited you to dinner weeks ago."
"Maybe," Anne nodded. "It will be nice to see Matthew again."
"You must give him something to think about, my dear," her mother smiled. "Make it clear where you stand."
Anne smiled and blushed. "I don't believe Matthew is the type of man who appreciates a woman who is so forward, Mama."
"He clearly likes to take his time, which is all well and good, however, men do sometimes need a bit of a nudge," her mother smiled, glancing over at her father.
"I am still in the room, you realize, dearest?" her father joked. "And I seem to recall that it was your mother who threw you at me."
Anne laughed and sipped her tea, visions of a lovely dinner at the London home of the Earl of Grantham dancing in her head.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, October 1921
"I feel as though I owe you an apology," Matthew muttered, smiling sheepishly as they walked along the path.
Mary looked at him curiously. "Whatever for?"
"For my behaviour last night," he answered, glancing over at her. "I'm afraid that I wasn't quite myself."
She frowned for a moment before looking ahead to the large tree in the distance. "How so?"
He swallowed tightly. "I believe that I was…erm…disrespectful."
She arched her eyebrow. "You'll need to be more specific. What was disrespectful? When you pulled my hair or when you spanked me?"
He coughed and beat his chest lightly, his face turning red. "Yes, all of that. It was entirely inappropriate, darling. I forgot myself."
"You did," she nodded. "And I loved it."
He looked over at her teasing smirk and scoffed, shaking his head as a slow smile appeared on his face. "You don't deserve such barbarism from me or anyone."
She laughed. "Oh, come now, darling. I'm not a fragile doll. I won't break. Seeing you desire me so desperately was quite exciting. You were passionate and powerful, like an animal almost."
He frowned. "I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to, Mary."
She nodded. "I know. That's why I enjoyed last night so much. I was curious as to what it would feel like to be so powerless, and you were more than up to the task."
"Yes, but darling, you've been mistreated so much already, I don't want to be like those others who…" he stammered.
"You are nothing at all like them," she declared firmly. "You would have stopped had I told you to, wouldn't you?"
"Absolutely," he stated.
She smiled. "I knew that which was why I never felt scared or worried. You were exactly what I needed when I needed it. So no apologies. I wouldn't say that I welcome you behaving that way all the time, but every so often when the mood calls for it, it's delightful to know just what you are capable of."
He nodded grudgingly and escorted her over to their bench, allowing her to sit down first before he joined her. They looked over the grounds, their joined hands resting on her lap. With just three nights left until she was due back at Haxby, the need to hide their affair was diminishing. When they made their way back to the Family Wing after thoroughly ransacking the Fourth Earl's bedroom, he stayed with her until dawn, holding her as she slept and only going back to his own room when the sun rose.
"Do you ever wonder how different things would have turned out had I accepted you?" she asked quietly.
He looked over at her before staring out the horizon. "Sometimes, yes. I try not and dwell on the past. I learned that in the Army. Nothing will change, so there's no point looking back."
"I know that better than most," she nodded. "Still, being back here with you, I can't help but wonder."
He squeezed her hand. "I wouldn't have left when I did, obviously."
She smiled, looking down at their interlaced fingers. "We would have married in the Village Church, of course. Papa would have insisted that the Archbishop take charge of the ceremony."
"Over Travis? Well, I suppose he did get to do Edith's wedding, ultimately," he noted.
"There would have been large crowds, streamers and flags and confetti everywhere," she mused. "As the heir, you would have been treated as royalty."
He chuckled and shook his head. "It would have been a bit of a sideshow, but I would have gotten through it, with your help."
"Luncheon back here with hundreds of guests. It would have been one of the highlights of the Social calendar. Your head would spin from all the relations and well-wishers coming up to you that you didn't know," she laughed at the image.
"Again, I would have gotten through it with your help," he smiled.
"Where would we have gone for our honeymoon, do you think?" she asked.
He thought for a moment. "Well, I expect you would have decided that."
She huffed and smiled at him. "I would have asked for your input before making my decision."
He chuckled. "If I had to guess, I would say the French Riviera. Back at the time, it would have still been safe to travel there."
She nodded in approval. "That's not a bad guess at all. The sea is gorgeous there, and the food and shopping are absolutely divine."
"As long as I got to see you in a bathing suit, that would be enough for me," he teased.
"Right, well I expect you would see me in far less than that," she remarked.
They both smiled and looked away.
"What about children?" she asked quietly.
"It would be expected of us to get on with that rather quickly, wouldn't it?" he nodded.
"Especially since you would be enlisting," she agreed. "I'd probably be beside myself with worry during those years. I was a wreck already as it was, but if we were married, goodness…"
He nodded. "I never did thank you for taking care of me, did I?"
She blushed. "I'm sure you must have mentioned it at some point."
"No, I believe I would have remembered," he stated. "Thank you, Mary. There were times when I didn't think I was going to make it through, to be honest, and you were right there pushing me along, even dragging me when you had to. I never thought about it back then, but there was no reason for you to do that. We were engaged to other people and you had other patients."
She smiled. "None as important to me as you. Besides, it's not as if my motives were entirely altruistic. You gave me a convenient escape from Richard, and I didn't have to make up any excuses to spend time with you. More importantly, you needed me."
"I did. More than I even knew," he nodded sadly, the mention of her husband sobering the colour of his happy memories.
She felt it, too, and looked down at her left hand instinctively. She always wore her rings during the day, mainly to ensure that no one noticed any difference in her. She removed them at night before being with Matthew, and each morning when she put them back on, it felt as though she was fastening shackles to herself.
"Well, you've had me now," she smiled bravely. "It all came good in the end."
"Not really. Not enough," he shook his head. "Not nearly enough."
"Matthew," she sighed sadly.
"Just hear me out," he implored her. "I know you have to go back. I hate it, but I know how impossible all of this seems in light of Cousin Violet's secret. I'm speechless at how strong you are to have taken this on, my darling."
"I don't feel particularly strong," she mumbled.
"You are strong," he repeated. "But I want to give you strength if you'll allow me to."
She looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"
He reached into his coat pocket and took out a small velvet box.
Her eyes almost popped out of her head.
"Open it," he encouraged her.
She swallowed nervously before reaching out and lifting the small lid. A gasp escaped her lips when she saw a gold wedding band resting inside.
"Oh, Matthew," she whispered.
"I know we can't, not officially," he said, drawing her gaze. "But I want you to have this all the same."
She cringed. "I'm afraid it's too dangerous, darling. If Richard were to find it, I…"
"That's the beauty of it," he said. "Look closely."
She arched her eyebrow and focused more on the ring. After several seconds, her mouth fell open.
"That's, well, that looks similar to my own ring," she noted.
He smiled. "Precisely."
She stared at him in shock. "You want me to replace it?"
He nodded. "It will be our secret, something that Carlisle will never be able to discover. I ordered it from the same jeweller in London. I used a different name and had it delivered to another address before having it sent on to here, but it's the same as your ring – the same weight, the same colour, everything."
She couldn't help but grin. "That's brilliant, darling. I shouldn't, though. You must find another, a woman who is available to you."
"But you want to," he stated.
She swallowed and nodded. "Of course, I want to."
He smiled in relief. "This will be ours, my darling. Only for us."
She shared his smile, tears gathering in her eyes. "Only for us."
He nodded. "So will you?"
She blinked in surprise before she smirked at him playfully. "You must say it properly. I won't answer unless you kneel down and everything."
He laughed and shook his head. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers lightly before sliding off the bench and taking a knee.
She couldn't stop herself from smiling gleefully. This was so wrong and so pointless, yet she loved all of it.
"Lady Mary Crawley, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" he asked.
"Yes," she nodded eagerly.
They both laughed as he removed her rings and replaced her wedding band with his own. She sat back and looked at her hand. He was right. Richard would never be able to tell the difference, and yet seeing them for herself, a wave of delight filled her at having a secret of her own. She would have a reminder of Matthew with her always now, a symbol of their love and their commitment to each other, as impossible as it was.
"What shall we do with this one?" he asked, holding her old wedding band in his outstretched palm.
"Burn it," she laughed. "The melted gold should fetch a decent price."
He smiled and tucked it away in his pocket. Sitting back on the bench, he took her hand again as she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Lady Mary Crawley. I like the sound of that," she declared.
"Carson, I'll be heading to the office tomorrow. I expect to be back in time for luncheon," Matthew advised, handing his empty Port glass to the butler.
"Very good, my Lord. I'll have the car ready for you," Carson nodded.
"There's no need. I plan on taking the bicycle," Matthew stated.
Carson frowned. "Yes, my Lord."
The butler turned on his heel and headed off.
Matthew smiled and got up from his chair. Carson thought it beneath an Earl to ride a bicycle, but with November almost upon them, the days where Matthew could get outside were running out. With any luck, he would be finished up and back home less than an hour after Mary finished her breakfast tray, which would give them the entire rest of the day together. With so few days remaining in her stay, he wasn't inclined to plan anything adventurous for them. They spent most of the time talking, reading, and simply being in each other's presence. Though they didn't dare speak about it, this would likely be the last time they would see each other for months. Carlisle would have his suspicions, but no confirmation that anything had happened between them during her time here, and life as Mary knew it would return to normal. Matthew didn't expect to be invited to any more poker matches for a while, which suited him fine. He refused to think about it, but he would likely dread seeing Mary in the same room as her husband, after all that they'd done.
He went through the Great Hall and up the stairs, his steps slow and easy. She had gone up before, giving him a playful smile and the silent promise that they would see each other again soon. The thought comforted him all the way to his bedroom. He was determined to make their remaining handful of days and nights the best yet.
Mary breathed deeply as she moved down the dark hallway. Though every step brought her closer to Matthew, so too did it mean their time together was slipping away. They had tonight and tomorrow, and a scant couple of days and nights after that. The more she thought about it, the more her chest tightened and her pulse jumped. Over the past years, she'd grown used to the feeling of helplessness, seeing an approaching doom and being unable to avoid it. That despondency returned now, creeping into her happiness, a looming threat that would soon envelop her once more.
As the door to Matthew's bedroom appeared before her at the end of the hall, she wondered just how she would possibly go on after all this. It was one thing to be Richard's wife and throw herself into her hosting and planning duties. Keeping herself busy helped her avoid her husband and the reminder of how sad her situation was. That was before she knew what it was like to be in Matthew's arms, to feel his kiss, to lay with him and be with him as only a husband and wife ought to. She had no idea how she would block out such memories, but she knew she must for her own sanity.
Clearing her mind, she paused on the threshold and put on a smile before pushing the door open and slipping inside.
"I was beginning to wonder how much longer you would…" Matthew began, looking up from his book and stopping mid-sentence.
"How much longer I would…?" she asked, coming over to the bed.
"Be…" he finished, setting the book aside and slowly getting up out of bed. "What are you…?"
"Do you like it?" she asked, turning around slowly so he could appreciate her ensemble from all sides. "I found it in the attics. It's even before Granny's time but it fits me rather well, doesn't it?"
The gown was white with silver beading along the hem and the wide cuffs of the sleeves. Though the dress was from another era, it framed Mary's figure wonderfully, tapering down to her narrow waist and curved hips before billowing out past her feet. The train was short but left no doubt as to the purpose of the dress. If that wasn't already obvious, her matching veil made it complete.
"If we were married, I might wear something like this, perhaps not so dated," she teased, smiling at him. "And at night, I would dismiss Anna early so that my husband would have the privilege of undressing me."
He nodded and came to her, his hand reaching out and running along her arm, feeling the softness of the dress.
"Well? Will I do?" she asked quietly.
"Most definitely," he nodded, kissing her softly.
She smiled against his lips, playing with his tongue before allowing him to taste her neck. When he finally pulled back, he turned her slightly and led her over to stand before the mirror.
"You're a vision, my darling," he nodded.
"And you are woefully underdressed," she replied, arching her eyebrow at his bare chest and pyjama trousers.
"I can ring for Bates to come and dress me in black tie, if you like," he shrugged.
"Don't you dare," she warned. "Now do your duty to your new wife. The dress buttons along the back."
He grinned and carefully moved her veil aside to find the delicate buttons at the back of the dress. Unclasping them slowly, he leaned over and pressed a warm kiss to her skin as he revealed more and more of her. Standing back up, he found her eyes in the mirror as he pulled her dress down.
She breathed in while he circled around her, leaving her veil on while he pulled her dress down her hips and to the floor, a trail of hot kisses following in its wake. She stepped out of the vintage gown and soon divested him of his scant clothing, turning to watch them in the mirror as she stroked him to arousal while his hands roamed down her back to caress her bottom.
The scene in the mirror was lewd and wrong – a married woman standing naked with another man, touching him intimately – but neither of them could feel any regret or remorse. He knew the truth now, that she had no real choice but to accept Carlisle, and it not only put everything before into perspective, it made him feel as though all they had done this month was so very right. It was as if Mary was the soldier home briefly from the battle, soon to go out again to the desolation and gloom of the Front. For this one month of freedom, she had lived on her terms, taken every joy and pleasure without reservation, just so she could know she had when it was time to depart and her liberty was taken away. When Matthew won her company in that final poker hand, he told himself that he did it to spare her the punishment of spending a weekend with Tony, but it was really to try and wrest her away from Carlisle, if only for a short time. Seeing her now, confident, playful and bold, warmed his heart.
Though at this exact moment, he was a bit preoccupied.
"Do you know I've done a bit of reading myself?" she whispered, backing him towards the bed.
"Have you?" he smiled, wondering what she was up to.
"Mmm hmm," she nodded. "I discovered something that I wasn't aware was even possible, but which has now intrigued me."
"That sounds enlightening," he remarked.
"I do very much hope it will be," she smiled.
She pushed him down to the bed and he fell back, lying down and making room for her. Smiling down at him, she lifted her veil and cast it aside, climbing on to the bed as naked as he was. Smirking up at him, she settled between his legs, taking hold of him once more.
"Do you like this?" she asked, leaning down and kissing his length.
"Yes," he nodded, watching her intently.
"And this?" she continued, licking him slowly.
"Yes," he repeated.
"Well, you most certainly shall like this, then," she teased, arching her eyebrow before she closed her mouth around him.
He could only nod and stare as she pleasured him, her breasts and bottom swaying before him as she took more and more.
"Oh, Mary!" he groaned, breathing harshly as the sight and sound of what she was doing sent his arousal spiralling higher. "I love how you do that."
"No one else has ever done this for you, have they?" she questioned, lifting up and smiling at him.
He shook his head vigorously. "Only you, my darling."
She grinned at that before resuming her attentions, a strange sense of pride filling her. If Richard ever asked her to do the same, she would be completely disgusted, but the wickedness of doing this for Matthew thrilled her.
"Stay where you are," she commanded, rising up to her knees.
He could only nod, gazing up at her with wide eyes.
She laughed at his expression, a blush colouring her cheeks at the admiration on his face. No one had ever looked at her like that before. Men stared at her before with lust, idolatry, and even resentment, but never appreciation. As much as he was leering at her, she knew she had his respect as well, and that made all the difference.
"I was reading on ways for both of us to take pleasure," she declared, moving up the bed. "I would never have contemplated the thought before, but that first time we were together, when you used your mouth on me, was quite incredible."
He smiled and nodded. "I know it sounds rather arrogant, but I love that I'm the first to have done that for you."
She laughed and kissed him. "You've been the first to do several things to me, you know."
He grinned and kissed her back. "As have you for me."
"Well, I do hope this shall be added to the list," she said mysteriously.
Turning around, she straddled his chest, kneeling above him just out of reach.
He gasped as he looked up at her.
She grinned when she saw him lurch in response. "You mustn't touch me until I say so."
"God, Mary," he whinged, his hands running up and down her thighs. "Please."
"Now, now, darling, not so fast," she teased.
He groaned but remained still.
"Such a good boy," she drawled, leaning down and kissing his stomach.
"Mary," he breathed, watching her move down his body, her hips drawing enticingly closer to his ready mouth, yet staying beyond his reach. When she took hold of him, his hands tightened around her thighs.
"Not yet," she warned, kissing his length appreciatively.
His tortured moan only made her more aroused.
"Now, Matthew," she called before opening her lips and sliding him in.
They both groaned together as he pulled her down to rest on top of him. She stilled with him swelling in her mouth while he ravished her, his hands sliding up and massaging her bottom. Her every moan seemed to make him shake and soon he was thrusting towards her, which made her return to pleasing him with renewed enthusiasm.
He tasted her over and over, every swipe of his tongue growing more and more rabid. With one hand holding her steady, he slid his other hand over to tease her before dipping inside.
She shouted around him at the new sensation, so dark and decadent. Her hips moved awkwardly, trying to take more of him, and he obliged, his second finger almost making her fall apart.
He stopped moving his hips, focusing entirely on her, wanting her to feel even a semblance of the pleasure she was giving him. Her loud cries and the push of her hips signalled she was close and with one hard stab of his tongue and fingers, she let go.
A shout left her lips as her head fell off of him, her hand still stroking him while she shook. Her unfocused eyes caught their reflection in the mirror across the room. They were a blurry tangle of arms and legs to her addled brain, but that only made what they were doing all the more wicked.
"How was that?" she gasped, slumped over him, her heart beating madly.
"I only wish that you had discovered it earlier," he chuckled, kissing her thigh lightly.
"Well, what next? We must take care of you," she whispered, gazing at his hard flesh hungrily.
"I'm thinking of trying something new as well," he grinned, easing her off of him and on to her back.
"Your wish is my command," she smiled, reaching her arms out to him.
He smiled and moved on top of her. "I love you, Mary."
"I love you," she answered. "I always will."
"Milady, I wish that you would reconsider," Anna tried again, looking over at Mary. "His Lordship won't be pleased. He'll be devastated."
Mary swallowed and nodded to her reflection in the mirror. It had been nearly a month since she last wore this exact outfit, on the day that she travelled from Haxby to Downton. She hadn't touched it since, leaving it in the closet, not even looking at it. Wearing it now, she thought she never looked uglier.
"I'm only leaving a few days early, Anna," Mary scoffed. "It's hardly something to get worked up over."
"If it's so harmless, why did you wait for His Lordship to leave the house before you had me pack your things?" Anna asked. "I expect you haven't told him of your plans either. He would never let you leave without saying a proper goodbye."
She frowned and glared at her lady's maid before sighing when she saw her friend's sad face.
"I must go, Anna," Mary shook her head. "If I wait until the final day, saying goodbye to this place and to him, it will be horrible. I don't want the last image we have of each other to be full of anguish. I want him only to remember all that we shared during my stay."
Anna cringed but nodded.
"I'll see you downstairs," Mary said shakily, turning and leaving her bedroom without taking another look around.
Carson was waiting for her when she reached the Great Hall. Smiling to him, she went over and kissed him on the cheek.
"The motor is waiting outside, my Lady," the butler announced.
"Thank you, Carson," she nodded. "It has been so very wonderful to see you again for the past month."
"The honour has been mine, my Lady," Carson nodded.
Mary looked over and took a deep breath as she watched the footmen bring her luggage out to the car. She turned back to the butler and smiled.
"There's no need for you to see me out. Do give Mrs Hughes my best, please. Take care of her, Carson," Mary ordered.
"I shall, my Lady," Carson replied. "My very best wishes to you."
She swallowed to stop her tears. "Thank you."
She turned away from him and went over to Anna, who was already crying.
"None of that now, you'll make me fall apart," Mary implored her, smiling before giving in and hugging her friend tightly. "Thank you for everything. You must let me know when you have news to share."
"We will, of course," Anna laughed. "You can come and visit."
"I will," Mary nodded, stepping back and pursing her lips. Neither of them wished to dwell on how tenuous of a promise it was.
"Good luck, Bates," Mary said politely, nodding to the valet.
"And to you, my Lady," Bates replied.
Mary took one last look around the Great Hall, her lip quivering. Matthew had kept everything pristine and unchanged, this one room remaining the same as it was when she was a child, but for some electric lighting. She shivered, wondering if a chill had come in through the front door.
He would be inconsolable when she came back from the office, and she was being a coward to leave him like this, but she couldn't stay any longer. After making love last night, she fell asleep in his arms and the thought of having to give that up nearly destroyed her when she went back to her bedroom. He was a part of her now, not only was she wearing his ring, but he was in her very veins. In the early morning, after he left for Ripon and before she rang for Anna, she went back to his bedroom and left her lingerie on his bed, even the pieces that he had torn to shreds. It was an inadequate token, but she wanted him to keep them. Bringing them back to Haxby felt wrong.
Taking a deep breath and calling upon the determination she mustered each day as Lady Mary Carlisle, she turned for the door and marched out to the car. The sky was grey and overcast, the air cold and still. She went over all the tasks she needed to do upon her return to Haxby, trying to distract herself as she got into the back seat and the driver closed the door behind her. As the motor pulled away from Downton, she closed her eyes, not wanting to see anything of her former home. She was bound for her husband's house now, where she belonged, and she buried everything about this past month deep down, only to be remembered in her dreams.
