Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, July 1922
"Today was for you," Mary said firmly, looking directly at him. "All of it. All of the plans for the Estate, everything that Tom and I are trying to accomplish, everything that Evelyn and Blake are scrutinizing, is yours. It's your plan, your vision, your way of preserving Downton for me and for George. It will be a cold day in hell before I allow some dehydrated pigs to threaten my husband's legacy. So Charles Blake can go stuff it for all I care. I would have carried those buckets myself with or without his assistance."
Matthew shook his head and smiled ruefully.
"And I did have some help with the water carrying, and the pouring, and the getting the pigs to drink," she smiled. "I would have preferred if you could have thrown a bit more mud Blake's way though."
"That's not exactly how it works, and you managed quite well without me," he said. "It was a very noble thing you did today, darling. You made me very proud."
"Good," Mary smiled, closing her eyes. "You can show your appreciation by working on this knot in my back."
"Yes, my Lady."
Mary shifted in the tub and sighed as she felt a soft caress across her skin. She groaned as a particular sensitive area of her back flexed and the soreness ebbed away.
"You added cream to the eggs. I taught you to use milk," Matthew mused.
"I just grabbed what I saw first," Mary said dismissively. "It wasn't necessary to make the eggs perfectly. They were just for Blake anyway."
"And if they had been for me?" Matthew teased.
Mary smiled as she felt warmth on her neck. "I would have saved the best parts for you."
Her Protector:
Downton Abbey, England, July 1922
Mary finished the last of her toast. She sipped her tea thoughtfully as she perused the papers in front of her.
"Just as we thought," she smiled. "Prices have stabilized. That's four months now that they've stopped falling."
"It's an improvement from the early Spring," Tom nodded. "It will make it easier to predict what we can expect going forward."
"So long as everything goes smoothly with the pigs," Mary warned.
"Well things can only improve from what happened last week," Tom smiled.
"You do enjoy reminding me of that little adventure, don't you?" Mary smirked, putting her papers down.
"I wish I had been there to see it for myself," Tom laughed.
"Well don't expect a repeat performance," Mary looked at him pointedly. "In an emergency, I'm prepared to do my part, but we've hired a pig man for a reason, and I would hope something as simple as a water trough could be maintained without my needing to go down there every evening."
"He'll be fine," Tom smiled. "But it's nice to know we have a contingency plan if anything ever goes wrong again."
Mary rolled her eyes at her brother-in-law and sipped her tea.
"Mary, Tom," Cora smiled as she came into the room.
"Mama," Mary nodded. "You're down early."
"Well with your Papa in America, I need to get started on my day earlier than usual," Cora replied as she sat down. She smiled at Carson as he served her tea.
"How is the planning for the Bazaar coming?" Tom asked.
"Very well, thank you," Cora nodded. "It's always a struggle of course, but I'd like to think we're further along than usual this year."
"Well let me know if you need me to do anything. Sybbie loves the Bazaar, so whatever I can do to make it special for her…"
"That's very kind," Mary smiled.
Tom nodded and bid the ladies goodbye as he rose and left the Morning Room.
"This came for you, Mary," Cora said lightly as she handed Mary an envelope.
Mary took the card out of the envelope and read it. She blinked several times in surprise.
"Is there something wrong?" Cora asked.
"No, nothing," Mary shook her head. "It's been a while since anyone has referred to me as Mrs. Matthew Crawley," she said, showing her Mama the card.
"It's from the War Office," Mary continued. "They're dedicating a War Memorial at Liverpool Street station in London and they've invited me to attend."
"That's a rather strange request," Cora noted.
"Not at all," Mary said plainly, sipping her tea. "Matthew's old regiment is part of it. They want to gather as many of them as they can, and so they've asked me to represent him."
"So you'll go to London then?"
"Maybe," Mary considered. "Liverpool Street station is just a short walk from Aunt Rosamund's. It wouldn't be inconvenient to go."
"Edith is in London as well," Cora noted.
"What's that got to do with anything?" Mary asked.
"Nothing," Cora rolled her eyes at her daughters' continued indifference to each other.
"Won't Evelyn and Mr. Blake require your presence here?" Cora asked.
"Hardly," Mary replied. "If anything comes up, they can ask Tom."
"Perhaps you should stay. It may be better to spend your time with Evelyn rather than a boring ceremony in London," Cora said cautiously.
Mary frowned at her. "Mama, I'll say nothing more about your misguided matchmaking. If I didn't give Evelyn a second look years ago, what makes you think I would change my mind now?"
"A lot has changed since then," Cora said pointedly.
"And yet much remains disappointingly the same," Mary replied coldly. "I'm pleased that Evelyn is still a friend of the family, and that's where it ends."
Cora sighed. Mary rolled her eyes.
"You won't take Tom with you to London?" Cora asked.
"No. Why would I? Better that he stay here, and you, Isobel and Nanny can handle George. I'll only be away for two days."
"Travelling alone to London, Mary…" Cora shook her head in disapproval.
"I won't be alone," Mary said dismissively.
"So you'll take Anna then?"
"No," Mary replied. She did not need anyone else travelling with her and Matthew.
Cora looked at her curiously. Mary blinked, realizing the implication.
"I'll think about it. For now I'm off to Granny's," she declared, rising from her seat.
"Tell her I'll be by this afternoon," Cora said. "Make sure she isn't overexerting herself."
Mary nodded and left the Morning Room quickly.
Dower House, Downton Village, England, July 1922
Mary leaned down over the baby carriage, smiling down at George as he waved his arms and gurgled at her.
"He wants to be picked up."
Mary smiled, keeping her eyes on her son. "He'll be the centre of attention soon enough. For now, he's mine."
"Is everything all right here?" she asked.
"Yes," Matthew answered, smiling at his son. "Cousin Violet is on her feet. She still coughs and is a bit weak in the afternoons, but Mother is becoming more irritated with her, so that suggests she's almost back to normal."
"I'm glad to hear it," Mary smiled, looking over at him. "Now give your wife a kiss before we go in."
Matthew smiled and kissed her cheek. They wheeled the baby carriage through the foyer to the drawing room entrance.
"Lady Mary and Master George," Pratt announced.
"Ah! Just the boy for the job I have in mind!" Isobel smiled. Mary picked up her son out of the baby carriage and passed him to his Grandmamma. "Cheering up Cousin Violet," Isobel smirked at Mary.
"I hardly need cheering up," the Dowager Countess huffed from her chair. Still, she beamed as her great grandson was placed on her lap. Soon she was cooing at the boy as he smiled and clapped his hands awkwardly.
"I never thought I would see Cousin Violet so pleased to be playing with a baby," Matthew shook his head.
"Just because Granny may not show it doesn't mean she isn't as enamoured with our son as everyone else is," Mary whispered as Isobel and Violet fawned over George.
The little boy began shaking slightly and making strange noises. Violet frowned at him.
"It's the hiccups," Isobel smiled, picking up her grandson and holding him against her shoulder, patting his back with her hand.
"Here," Mary said as she retrieved a towel from the stroller and George's bottle.
"Why don't I give him his bottle? I'll take him to the kitchen so you can have a proper chat with your Granny," Isobel said cheerfully, reaching over and taking the items from Mary.
"That's not necessary," Mary shook her head.
"Nonsense, I insist," Isobel smiled. "Besides, someone needs to talk some sense into her. She thinks she's made a complete recovery."
"And who says I haven't?" Violet shot back.
"I say," Isobel declared. Violet coughed and Isobel smiled in triumph as she carried George into the kitchen.
"She's right you know," Mary said as she sat back down. "You were just bedridden mere days ago."
"She thinks she's right," Violet said pointedly. "There's a difference. Besides, if I am not available to help your Mama with the Bazaar then it will be a calamity."
"Mama is doing just fine. There's still over a month left so I'm sure your shift will come sooner than you think," Mary said teasingly.
"And what does Mr. Blake think of the Bazaar?" Violet asked.
"How would I know?" Mary frowned. "I hope he and Evelyn will be gone by the time the Bazaar comes next month."
"You speak rather disdainfully about a man you've spent an evening out with," Violet chuckled, pleased with her clever joke.
Mary's mouth shot open in astonishment.
Matthew smirked.
"Well clearly his company was rather unsatisfactory," Mary shot back, arching her eyebrow.
Violet smiled at her granddaughter.
"I am quite pleased that you've found your spark once again," Violet said quietly.
"Why, Granny, that almost sounded sentimental," Mary chuckled.
"I blame it on the illness," Violet said haughtily. "It's made me rather delusional. I'm even finding Cousin Isobel's company shockingly enjoyable."
Mary looked at Matthew and laughed.
"I'm glad to see you're doing better. I'm going to London for a few days, and I expect to see you back on your feet upon my return," Mary smiled.
"London? First Edith, and now you. Whatever is drawing you there?"
"There's an unveiling of a War Memorial and I've been invited to attend in Matthew's stead," Mary said quietly.
Matthew's eyes widened at the news. Mary smiled at him.
"That sounds quite official. Bravo, Mary. He would surely be proud of you for honouring his memory," Violet smiled.
"I'm glad you approve. Some would prefer that I forget about him and move on and re-marry as quickly as possible," Mary sighed, looking at Matthew accusingly.
Matthew frowned.
"That's utter rubbish," Violet retorted.
Mary looked at her Granny in shock. "Granny! I thought you of all people would be imploring me to have myself settled immediately."
"Hardly," Violet scoffed. "If the right match is available, then surely you will consider it, if only for the sake of Downton, and of your son. But we have a rather full plate of things to worry about at the moment. Whether you find another husband or not is hardly a priority."
Mary smiled and raised her eyebrows at Matthew.
Matthew rolled his eyes and smiled back at her.
"Here he is!" Isobel called, bringing George back into the room. "He's been fed and changed and is quite ready to entertain all of us!"
Mary smiled as Isobel placed George on the floor in front of him. The boy looked up at her, opening and closing his mouth cheerfully. Mary felt Matthew's warm hands across her back and she leaned towards him. They sat together and watched as Isobel and Violet spoke happy gibberish to their son.
Downton Abbey, England, July 1922
"We'll only be gone two days, Mary," Matthew smiled.
"I know that," she scoffed.
"It's getting harder to say goodbye to him isn't it?"
Mary rolled her eyes and sighed. "Yes," she said quietly.
"Good. See darling? Your maternal instincts are alive and well."
"Well, I do have a big baby to take care of on this trip already," she teased.
"I'm not a baby!" Matthew smiled and chuckled at his own outburst.
"No, you're just fussier than one," Mary smiled.
"Lady Mary," Charles nodded as he and Evelyn came into the Great Hall.
"Mr. Blake, Evelyn," Mary smiled politely.
"I understand you're going to London?" Evelyn asked.
"Yes, just for two days. There's an unveiling of a War Memorial at Liverpool Street station that I need to attend for my husband's sake," Mary explained.
"That's very honourable of you, Lady Mary," Charles said.
"I do it out of love, Mr. Blake," Mary said calmly. "My honour is hardly a concern. I don't hold my title or my honour as in high regard as some do theirs."
Charles blinked.
"Lady Mary has obviously heard about some of the issues plaguing our government," Evelyn smiled. "I can assure you, Mary, Charles and I are far removed from any of this wretched business involving the sale of titles and honours."
"I wouldn't think you would be involved," Mary smiled. "Not when you both are far too busy roaming the countryside casting an inquisitive eye over the lives of my neighbours."
Evelyn chuckled. Charles remained silent.
"If either of you require anything, Tom will see to you. If there's anything that is amiss with the pigs, I trust we can count on you to come to our rescue, Mr. Blake?" Mary smiled.
"I'm afraid I'm not up for another mud wrestling incident unless you are there, Lady Mary," Charles smiled back.
"My days of wallowing in the muck are over, Mr. Blake. You'll have to keep yourself out of trouble, or hope that Tom or Evelyn are brave enough to save you," Mary laughed.
"Safe travels, Mary," Evelyn nodded.
"Thank you, Evelyn," Mary smiled back. "Mr. Blake," she nodded.
"Lady Mary," Charles nodded back.
Mary walked outside to the waiting motor.
"There, darling," Matthew smiled. "It doesn't hurt to be polite does it?"
"I'm always polite," Mary scoffed as she took her seat and moved over for him to join her. "I still don't trust them though."
"Well hopefully we're on the right track so that whatever their report says won't be of any consequence," Matthew stated.
"They should be more concerned about their own jobs," Mary said with a hint of amusement. "Lloyd George is hardly on firm ground, and neither is his coalition to hear the latest news."
"Evelyn will be all right," Matthew said. "And I expect Mr. Blake is resourceful enough to land on his feet regardless of who is in power."
"As long as they are far away from here," Mary sighed.
Matthew covered her hands with his, and warmth flowed over her lap.
"Enough talk about them, darling," Mary smiled at him.
Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, July 1922
"Mary!" Edith exclaimed. "I didn't know we were expecting you."
"Obviously you weren't," Mary frowned.
"What brings you to London?" Edith asked brightly.
Matthew frowned as Edith's hand ran down her stomach before settling at her side stiffly.
"I'm just here for two days," Mary explained as they walked down the hall. "There's an unveiling of a War Memorial tomorrow at Liverpool Street station, and I was invited to attend on behalf of Matthew."
"Oh yes, we're covering it," Edith replied. "Sir Henry Wilson is doing the unveiling. We're trying to get an interview with him afterward."
"Angling for a comment on his view of the current government?" Mary smiled.
"That, and the situation in Ireland," Edith nodded. "He's very guarded though, I doubt we'll be able to speak to him. I have two men covering the event, so we'll see."
"I'm going upstairs to rest before dinner," Mary declared. "Please let Aunt Rosamund know I've arrived."
"Certainly," Edith said cheerfully.
Matthew looked back at Edith as he followed Mary upstairs. His brow creased as he watched her bite her bottom lip, clasp her hands together and turn away.
"I don't believe it!" Mary exclaimed, turning over in bed and facing him.
"I am quite certain," Matthew replied.
"But how?" she asked.
"Well, darling, you see when a man and a woman lay together…" he smirked.
"Don't be crass," Mary rolled her eyes. "I meant how do you know?"
"I can't really explain it," Matthew admitted. "It's just that I can sense the presence of people around you, sometimes even before they've appeared. It's almost like a sensation in my head that makes me look up or glance in a particular direction and I know someone will be there. Just now, when Edith greeted us, I felt something different about her, something that I didn't notice the last time we saw her."
"It has been a while that she's been in London," Mary nodded. "We always thought it was because she was working, but she's also been spending an inordinate amount of time with Aunt Rosamund, now that I think about it."
"Michael did leave for Germany several months ago," Matthew said.
"Yes, but having sex with a man before he left for another country? That's hardly something Edith would do. She would wait for marriage, and probably for several months after that."
"Mary," Matthew scolded.
"Getting pregnant out of wedlock. Goodness, Edith is more daring than I give her credit for," Mary huffed.
"It's such a surprise she wouldn't confide in you about this," Matthew said sarcastically.
Mary rolled her eyes. "She's not much better off with Aunt Rosamund as her ally."
"What will you do about it?"
"What can I do? Tell her that I know she's pregnant because you told me that you can sense the baby inside of her?"
"It wouldn't hurt for you to talk to her and at least let her know you're on her side," Matthew frowned.
"And take on yet another reclamation project?" Mary raised her eyebrows.
Matthew frowned again.
"I'll speak to her when we come back from the unveiling tomorrow," Mary sighed. "I can't promise anything beyond that."
"That's why I love you," Matthew smiled, kissing her cheek.
"Mmm," Mary smiled, closing her eyes. "Then you can warm me, please. Aunt Rosamund's home is always so much colder, even in Summer."
Matthew smiled and wrapped his arms around his wife as she fell asleep.
Eaton Square, Belgravia, London, England, July 1922
"What did you think of the ceremony?" Mary asked.
"It was very well done," Matthew said idly. "I find that there are many things about the War that I wish to forget, and yet we seem to constantly be coming up with ways to remind ourselves of it."
"Well, a War Memorial is only fitting, darling," Mary said patiently. "We're not glorifying anything about it, only paying tribute to all that was lost. I found it quite moving."
"Mmm," Matthew nodded, looking up at the sky as they walked. "War Memorials can mean different things to different people. I like to think it's not only for those of us who lived through it, but a warning to those who weren't touched as deeply."
"I like to think it stands for an important lesson," Mary said thoughtfully.
"Such as 'be mindful of the past so we don't repeat the same mistakes'?" Matthew suggested.
"I was thinking more along the lines of honouring the past and remembering to keep it a part of one's present," she smiled at him.
Matthew smirked and shook his head. "You mean honouring the past and leaving it where it belongs, and moving on to the future, don't you?"
"No," Mary said firmly. "For I do not see any value in leaving one's past behind. It makes us who we are, and why would anyone ever want to forget that?"
Matthew was about to reply when Meade opened the door to Painswick House and greeted Mary.
Smirking at her husband, Mary nodded to the butler and went inside. Matthew rolled his eyes and followed her.
"I'll take tea in the parlour," Mary said to Meade as she walked into the parlour and sat down at the window.
"Excellent, my Lady," Meade nodded and went to fetch her tea.
"When do you want to head back to Downton?" Matthew asked, taking the seat opposite her.
"Tomorrow," Mary answered. "I don't feel like rushing for the evening train, and having dinner with Aunt Rosamund and Edith would be the polite thing to do."
Matthew looked at her pointedly.
"And I have to speak to Edith on a very important matter," Mary threw up her hands in exasperation.
Matthew smiled and waited as Meade came in, served Mary's tea, then left the room.
"Matthew," Mary said, looking out the window. "Isn't that Sir Wilson over there?"
Matthew looked out the window and saw the retired statesman turning into a house down the street, still dressed in full military regalia.
"I wasn't aware he lived in Eaton Square," Matthew noted.
"Neither was I," Mary agreed, sipping her tea. "You would have thought Aunt Rosamund would have mentioned it. I'm surprised we haven't see him around. She's always inviting over politicians and the like."
Matthew's eyes narrowed and he frowned as he saw a taxi cab slowing on the road.
Matthew rose from his chair, keeping his eyes fixed out the window.
"Matthew?" Mary looked at him in confusion. "What is it?"
"Get up," Matthew said quickly as he crossed over to her.
"Matthew!" she protested, getting up from her chair and backing away from the window as he stepped between her and the window and backed her away.
Two men leapt from the taxi cab and drew pistols from their jackets. Matthew's eyes went wide. Mary dropped her tea cup, the delicate porcelain shattering on the floor.
"Matthew!" Mary gasped.
"Get back, Mary!" Matthew yelled, backing her up to the back of the room. Mary ducked down beside the sofa and out of sight of the horrible scene unfolding outside.
"Dex Aie!" the men screamed, levelling their guns at Sir Wilson.
Sir Wilson turned at the sound of their voices. As he saw the guns pointed at him, he drew his ceremonial sword.
"Cowardly swine!" he roared.
Matthew crouched in front of Mary, blocking her view and covering her head with his arm.
Six shots rang out, each one a sharp thunderclap echoing across the Square. Mary and Matthew heard each blast even within the walls of Painswick House. Mary shook with each sound, shrinking back against the wall.
An eerie silence fell over the Square momentarily, the only sound the frantic footfalls of the escaping assassins.
Voices and yelling and screaming rang out from outside. Police sirens blared and grew closer and closer. Mary swooned, leaning against the sofa with Matthew's arms around her.
"Matthew!" she cried out.
"Mary, I'm right here. You have to get out of this room. Go to the back of the house, away from the windows. Don't look back," Matthew said firmly.
"Mary!" Aunt Rosamund called desperately from the hallway. Meade rushed into the room and helped Mary to her feet. They scampered to the back of the house, where Edith was sitting and looking up at them with wide eyes. They all huddled together on the sofa, listening to the sirens outside.
Matthew took a look out the window across Eaton Square. Sir Henry Wilson's limp body lay in front of his home, his sword held uselessly in his dead hand.
Matthew rejoined Mary and held her in his arms as she struggled to slow her breathing.
"I'm here, Mary. It's all right," Matthew repeated over and over.