A/N Well, This chapter ended up going in a completely different direction than I had originally planned, but I must say I had a lot of fun with this chapter.

There is some dialogue taken straight from the show in this chapter.

Once again, the family was in the sitting room as Lord Grantham had just gotten some information on whoever this Patrick Gordon might be. The accounts in regard to someone being pulled out of the water differed from the man dying at sea to making it to New York. Naturally, Edith believed the latter account. Mary still was firm in her belief that Patrick was long gone and Matthew simply didn't know what to think. Before any discussion could be started, Robert continued by saying that here was a Peter Gordon who had worked with Patrick at some point, and Peter and immigrated to Montreal.

Granny was certain that when this Gordon fellow had had his face half destroyed, he figured that he could wheedle his way into an inheritance. To Mary, that idea made perfect sense, but Edith was still convinced that Patrick Gordon was their cousin. Mary had no clue how she could be able to convince her sister otherwise. If Patrick had lived, and even if he had lost his memory, surely they would have been notified somehow. Mary wondered if part of her determination for Major Gordon to not be Patrick stemmed from her annoyance of being betrothed to him for nearly her entire life.

"What do you think?" Cora asked her husband.

Robert sighed and simply said, "I don't know. Murray will continue to investigate and with the end of the war, it should be easier to find evidence."

Once everyone had left the room, Robert turned towards Matthew and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I don't know more."

"Don't be," Matthew stated, looking down at his lap. "I meant what I said the other day. It'll take a man who is more than I am now to take after you. So don't think about me." At times, Matthew felt that he was a burden on the family. Right now it probably wasn't overly obvious, after all, there were numerous other wounded officers at Downton, but once they all left, the family would soon realise the role his injury would play in their lives. All he could hope for at the moment was a positive outcome in London when he went in a few weeks. But, Matthew wasn't expecting that outcome, not completely at any rate.

"How can you say that?" asked an aghast Robert. "I never think about anything else." With that, Robert left, leaving Matthew alone with his thoughts. He knew that if Mary or his mother ever heard what he had just said, he would get the talking to of his life. He briefly wondered what she would say, but he knew that it probably wouldn't be anything different than what she and his mother had already told him. He knew he still had his mind, and for that he was grateful. After all, he was determined to someday go back to work. But to him, a man was almost nothing if he wasn't strong of both mind and body. He was only strong of mind and would never be strong of body. He buried his head in his hands and began to weep. He wept for all of those who had lost their lives, for the families ripped apart, for the places destroyed, but most of all he wept for himself, for the man he used to be, but was no longer.


Later that evening at dinner, Sir Richard arrived and that was to be expected. What Matthew did not expect was when Cora asked, "Where's Lavinia?"

"She didn't come," Richard answered. "She said something about Matthew not wanting her around." He glared at Matthew and Matthew could feel the cold, calculating look of one of the few men he actually despised.

Matthew turned and stared at Cora. "And when did you ask Lavinia to come back here?" he asked accusingly.

Cora looked somewhat flabbergasted, but managed to calm down enough to speak steadily. She replied, "A few days ago. I thought that since you're improving, you'd like her company again. And with the chance that this might not be permanent…"

Matthew groaned as he gripped the sides of his chair. "I sent her away for a good reason," he protested as he interrupted Cora, "and I'm thankful to see she listened."

Mary's eyes were quickly darting between her mama, Matthew, and Sir Richard. Her mama looked disappointed, Matthew annoyed and slightly angry, and Sir Richard furious. She sighed and ever so slightly, shook her head. She had no idea why Richard would look so angry unless it was he who came up with this ploy to try and get Lavinia back into Matthew's life. If such a ploy were to be successful, Lavinia would take over Matthew's care, thus keeping her interaction with Matthew at a minimum. If that were to be the case, Mary was exceedingly grateful that it hadn't worked out, at least not yet. As much as she enjoyed Lavinia's company, the girl had also been her rival. Of course, it was now far too late for her and Matthew. Mary wouldn't go so far as to say she was happy that no one else could be with Matthew, but in a strange way she was relieved that Lavinia would not be the Countess of Grantham. However sweet the girl was, she didn't have the right personality to be a countess.

"Mary, is something wrong?" Robert asked his daughter.

"I was simply wondering why Mama would request Lavinia's presence when Matthew had been explicit about not wanting her around," Mary stated.

"I just want to do what's best," Cora sighed.

"What's best for me or for you?" retorted Matthew. Even though it generally wasn't regarded as proper for a gentleman to leave the table before the ladies, he rolled his chair back away from the table and exited the dining room, muttering under his breath as he went.

Mary made a move to follow him, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. "Don't you have a greeting for me?" Sir Richard inquired. Mary sighed inaudibly, but gave him a peck on the cheek.

"I must go and make certain Matthew is settled," she said quietly. "The conversation of this evening has quite upset him."

"You know I don't' like you spending all this time with him," Sir Richard said sternly. "That's the main reason Lavinia was supposed to come: to relieve you of your duties."

Mary didn't dignify Richard's statement with a response, but merely nodded in understanding. She then turned and quickly followed Matthew out of the room, hoping that Richard wouldn't follow. Thankfully he didn't.

"That imbecile," she muttered once she knew Sir Richard was out of ear-shot. However, Matthew heard her insult and smiled ever so slightly, grateful that she couldn't see his face. He did wonder why Mary was engaged to a person that she called such words, but he didn't have time to contemplate this. A moment later, she caught up to him and said gently, "I'm sorry for the display at dinner."

"Don't be," Matthew sighed. "I just wish I knew why your mother wished Lavinia to come back."

Mary gritted her teeth. Richard had practically told her the reasons why and they certainly weren't pleasant ones. "I think I might know," she said slowly, "but I know you won't like it."

By this point, they were in the small library. Matthew stopped his chair and slowly turned around so as to face Mary. She sat down in a chair quite close to his and said, "Sir Richard told me that Lavinia was supposed to relieve me of my duties towards you."

"What?" cried Matthew.

"But I'm certain there's more to that," Mary continued. "You see, I think Richard thinks you're still in love with me and he doesn't want anyone to snatch me away from him." Not to mention he probably realizes that I still love Matthew, she thought. I know Matthew doesn't love me in the way he did.

Matthew stared at his cousin in shock. "Is that all?" he asked.

Mary nodded. That was all, or at least, all she could tell him. She couldn't tell him the true reasons for why Richard was so determined to keep her and Matthew apart. She herself didn't even know what they would technically be, but she knew that they had to do with her scandal.

"Mary," Matthew said firmly. "I know there is something you're not telling me. Why on earth are you engaged to Sir Richard?"

"We're a good match," Mary said rather distantly.

"Mary," Matthew repeated. "Please, tell me. I know you don't love him. You're choice of words a few minutes ago confirmed that."

Mary let out a long sigh. She simply couldn't tell him. If Matthew were to find out … She knew her chances of being married to him were long gone, but she couldn't stand to loose his friendship and respect and she knew she'd lose both of them the moment he knew about Pamuk. "I can't tell you," she said at last. "You'd hate me for it."

Matthew too let out a sigh. There wasn't a thing that Mary could have done that would make him hate her. "I promise, I won't hate you," he replied. "That's an impossible task."

"Matthew…" she began, but Matthew cut her off.

"I won't say I like Sir Richard," he began. "In fact, I'd go so far as to say, I despise the man. However, if you feel he's the right one for you, I won't stop you. I simply want to know the reason why. I know now, or at least I hope, that you're not so shallow as to marry for money."

"No, it's not the money," Mary said quickly.

"Then what?" asked Matthew rather sharply, though extremely relieved. "Is he forcing you?" Mary stiffened ever so slightly, but Matthew noticed. "Good God! What is it?" he cried, then continued through gritted teeth, "If he's blackmailing you…"

That did it. Mary knew that she had to tell Matthew. She had to tell someone and Matthew did care about her. Most certainly not in the way he used to, but as family. "Promise not to say anything until I'm through," she said firmly. Matthew promised, and so she began. "Do you remember the hunt back in 1913 when Evelyn brought the Turkish ambassador with him?" she inquired. Matthew nodded, wondering why this story began so long ago. "Well, I know I flirted quite dangerously with him that afternoon and evening. Somehow, he … he found his way to my bedroom that night. I have no clue how as I certainly never said a word about it. He … he came to the door and … and came in."

As Mary paused for breath, Matthew bit his lip to keep from saying something. He had a feeling he knew where this story was going to go, but he didn't say a word.

Soon Mary continued. "He told me I was already ruined, so it didn't matter if I screamed." There was another short pause before Mary quickly finished. "I took a lover and he died in my bed."

For a few short seconds, Matthew stared at Mary. "Did you let him?" he asked in a soft, firm tone that didn't match in the least to what he was feeling like inside.

"I told him to leave, but he wouldn't," Mary replied barely above a whisper. "I'm soiled goods, Matthew. That's why I couldn't accept your proposal. I couldn't marry you without telling you, but I couldn't imagine telling you either."

"Oh, Mary," Matthew said gently as he slowly wheeled forward and took her hand in his. "You're not soiled goods. A man forced himself on you, against your wishes." He paused for a moment and added, "If he wasn't already dead, I'd kill him." There was no way he could put to words what he was feeling. He was so relieved that Mary's refusal to his proposal back in 1914 didn't have a thing to do with what could have been changed prospects. Rather, it seemed that it had been more of a matter of conscience.

"C-Can you forgive me?" Mary stuttered. If Matthew decided to turn her back on her now, it was completely her fault and it would be fully deserved.

"There's nothing to forgive," said Matthew firmly. "That incident wasn't your fault and I'm grieved that you've had to bear this burden for so long. Now, why is this story the cause of your having to marry Sir Richard?"

"He bought the story off of Mrs Bates," Mary said quietly. "I don't know how she found out, but Sir Richard called and told me he knew the story. I quickly went up to London. To summarize, he promised that if I married him, he wouldn't print the story."

Finally, understanding dawned on Matthew. Everything, all her hesitations towards him, the need to marry Carlisle: they all had to do with a certain incident now five years in the past.

"I don't care about the story getting printed," Mary continued, "not for myself. But, it will ruin Edith and Sybil's prospects and kill Papa. Granny already knows as she heard about it from Aunt Rosamund." She pulled her hand our of Matthew's and hid her face.

"And your mother?" asked Matthew as he gently pulled her hands back down.

"She knows," Mary said quickly. "She and Anna helped me carry the body down to the bachelor's corridor."

Matthew stared wide-eyed at Mary. His darling Mary had carried a dead body down several hallways. No one should ever have to do that. He gave an involuntary shudder as he remembered all of the dead and dying men he'd carried over the past four years.

"Matthew," Mary said softly, then a bit louder, "Matthew." Once she knew she had gotten his attention. "So, I have no choice. To protect my family, I have to marry him."

"No you don't," Matthew said firmly, not really knowing what he was going to say next.

"What?" Mary asked in surprise.

"You don't have to marry that man," Matthew stated again, this time with more confidence. "Not if you don't want to."

"But, Papa …," began Mary.

"Mary, do you still love me?" Mathew asked suddenly, surprising himself with his question. Where was he planning on going with this? He knew he still loved Mary, but he couldn't possibly tie her down to himself. It wouldn't be fair to her. Well, if it was to save her from a loveless marriage that she was forced into.

"Of-of course I do!" stuttered Mary, very surprised at the turn of events and curious as to where they were going. "I've never stopped loving you. I think I fell in love with you, though I didn't know at the time when you …" But she suddenly stopped, not daring to lest it bring up sad memories for Matthew.

"When?" Matthew asked slowly.

"When I first saw you on that bicycle of yours," Mary finished with a smile. "You always had that thing with you."

Matthew nodded slowly as he remembered that lovely old bicycle, but the smile quickly left his face as he knew he'd most likely never mount one again.

"I'm sorry if that brought up unpleasant memories," Mary quickly added.

"No, no, it's fine," Matthew assured. "Mary, you don't know how much relief it brings to me to know that you love me. I love you too, so … I wish I could do this properly, (Damn this wheelchair, he thought) but, will you marry me?"