XX
Matthew stood on the threshold of the Swire residence. He was about to ring the bell but his hand froze before it reached the pull.
What was he to say? He had telephoned asking to meet Lavinia for tea. At first she put him off pointing out there wasn't much else to say but he had persuaded her that they needed to talk. He knew he needed to lay all his cards on the table. And he had to do it in person.
She deserved to hear it from his lips. Even though he knew it would break him to see her hurt. Ironic, he knew. He never considered that regaining his sight would result in causing pain to those he loved.
Matthew yanked on the bell pull in one swift motion.
Hopkins opened the door. "Good day Lt. Crawley. Miss Lavinia is in the morning room."
"Thank you." Matthew gave him his cap and walked through.
Lavinia was seated by the window. "Hello Matthew," she said so softly he hardly heard her.
She looked so very pale. "Lavinia?" Matthew walked over to the window seat beside her, starting to take her hand and then withdrew. Maybe she didn't want his touch anymore? But his face was etched with concern. "Has your father's health taken a bad turn?"
"Dr. Foley was in earlier and said he was as well as a man with pneumonia and a bad heart can be. Which I'm taking is him trying not to say it's only a matter of time." Lavinia's hand trembled.
"I'm so very sorry Lavinia."
She looked up. "About my father or your behaviour?"
Matthew slumped, his eyes closed.
He deserved that rebuke. "I want to talk to you about my atrocious conduct the other week. I…I have no excuse other than I didn't know how to tell you… tell you…" He trailed off, gathering his thoughts.
Lavinia waited.
He swallowed. "I didn't know how to tell you that I have had a change of affection." God that sounded fatuously formal. Matthew made himself continue, "And I should probably withdraw my proposal of marriage."
"Should probably?" Lavinia inquired quietly. "I want to be very clear." Her eyes clear and intent on his own.
She's right dammit Matthew thought. No more hedging.
"I believe…." Matthew broke off again, putting his fingers to his forehead. But he knew what he had to say and he turned to look at her directly, "I no longer believe we should get married. I don't want to hurt you anymore Lavinia. It seems very cruel. Very unfair to you and I am so so sorry."
"I appreciate your honesty Matthew." Lavinia managed to utter, though her voice cracked upon uttering his name. "I would never want you to marry the wrong person and I have enough self-worth to not want to do the same. We made our engagement in a different time under different circumstances. I agree it's time we moved on from each other." Lavinia reached for the ring on her left finger. She took it off and gave it back to him.
Matthew shoved it in his coat pocket.
Both turned away. Matthew looked out the window. Lavinia heard the door open. Hopkins walked through, "shall I have tea brought in?"
Lavinia nodded assent and the two waited in silence as Mrs. Asprey and the butler put down a tray of tea and a stand of cakes.
When they left Lavinia moved to pour each a cup.
"I shouldn't stay." Matthew stood up, saying, "You don't want me here anymore."
"I want to part without rancor." Lavinia answered, meeting his doleful set of eyes. "Without bitterness. We could hardly have known you would regain your sight and come into such a large inheritance. I'm not sure I'd be good as queen of the county. Mary was born to it."
"I don't want to hear you say that." Matthew's voice hitched, "I really have no idea what the future holds. I'm off to Belgium in a few days to start training in sound ranging."
"To the front?" Lavinia gripped the teapot hovering near the rim of a cup but it was no longer her place to worry about him. Instead she said, "Papa wants to see you. I don't want him disturbed too much and he's very weak but if you want you can go up after tea and read to him. He won't acknowledge you but I know he knows who's in the room. It helps calm him."
"I would like to do that." Matthew held out his hand to take the proffered cup.
"There's a book by the bed," Lavinia's voice was brittle, but she continued, "Le Morte D' Arthur. One of his favourites."
Matthew took a perfunctory sip of the tea but he tasted none of it.
The air settled silently around them. A clink of a cup against the saucer. A hacking cough from above stairs.
"Don't tell him Matthew." Lavinia finally spoke up. "I'll inform him when he's stronger. It'll be enough to have your companionship."
"Of course." Matthew said gently. He would feel a complete fraud but he'd do whatever Lavinia wanted. "I will go up directly."
Lavinia gave a weary smile, "Thank you."
About an hour or so later Matthew took his leave. Reggie seemed to know of Matthew's presence but his eyes opened no more than half-lidded as certain favorite passages from Mallory passed Matthew's lips. He walked solemnly down the staircase, knowing it would the last time he'd ever step foot in the house.
Matthew retrieved his cap and coat from Hopkins.
Lavinia opened the front door herself, "Good-bye Matthew," her hand outstretched. "Take care."
Matthew felt it trembling in his light grip. "Good-bye." She quickly closed the door before he could say anything else.
Walking away, shoulders drooped, Matthew knew he had done the right thing.
It just didn't feel so good in the immediate aftermath.
XX
Matthew returned to Crawley House to collect his things before catching the train to Dover for the troop ship to Boulogne, France and then a train to Kemmel Hill, Belgium. No chance to talk to Mary about the London trip he would write to her once he was settled at the sound ranging camp.
His mother saw him off at the Downton Village train station.
"I don't know that I approve of this venture. But you want to do something for the war effort so I will not let you go thinking I don't support you. I will just spend the next months in a constant state of worry."
Matthew put his bag inside the First-Class car. "I will be well behind the lines, Mother. We use the sound equipment to determine the coordinates of hostile fire. Mostly it's all done in a hut." It was not quite the truth, of course. The microphones and communication channels needed regular maintenance which would mean accompanying a patrol out to potentially dangerous areas, especially where the lines changed quickly from allied to enemy hands.
Isobel didn't believe a word but she'd not let him think she saw past his dissembling. Saying instead, "I am glad you settled things with Lavinia before you left."
Matthew's lip curved at the side of his mouth. "You think I'm wrong don't you?"
"I think you fancy yourself in love with Lady Mary Crawley. She's quite enigmatic and quite beautiful..." Isobel said.
"But not the wife for a man with my condition." Matthew finished for her. "It might be quite unfair. We get along quite well. I think she just might surprise you."
"We shall see." Isobel took her son's arm. "I want nothing but the best for you."
"Lavinia said she'd telephone when her father dies. It should be very soon I think." Matthew said.
"I will take my cue from her as to whether she'd like my help with anything." Isobel replied gently.
Matthew was relieved. "Thank you, Mother."
The whistle blew and he took the step up into the compartment. He pulled the window down as the train started away.
Matthew blew his mother a kiss.
She smiled and waved.
And he was away to Dover and the crossing to France.
XX
Cora checked the travel case just to have something to do. Sybil was taking so very little with her.
"We could perhaps send a trunk later…"
"Mama where I'm going I will need very little but my uniforms and a few things to wear when I'm off duty. I won't be going to Paris for fancy dinners with the ambassador."
Cora smoothed the soft collar of her daughter's VAD uniform. "I know."
"It's what I want to do Mama. Please be happy for me." Sybil could see the worry lines etched in her mother's face. "I've got to do something to help."
"I know my darling girl but it's a mother's prerogative to worry about her children and there's nothing you can do about it."
They embraced. Mary and Edith stood next to each other near the door when their grandmother entered. "So you've not changed your mind? I could inform Shrimpie to pull you back because you're too young…"
"No Granny please. Mama and Papa have said I could go." Sybil reminded her.
"Ever so reluctantly." Cora told Sybil.
"But you did. I am trained. I am capable of doing this. I must go." Sybil was adamant. She was bound for the Dover train to Boulogne and the military hospital at Ypres. What she did not have to add was that Tom had volunteered as an ambulance driver at the front and this sudden desire to serve overseas was connected to his decision. They would at least be on the same continent even if the chance of meeting was remote.
Violet held out her arms for Sybil. "If you're determined. Good luck with it all. It's a big step but I know war deals out strange tasks. Look at your great Aunt Roberta."
Edith opened the door to let Cora and Sybil out. They started to walk down the hall.
"What about her?" Mary's eyes narrowed trying to recollect anything about such a distant relative. She and Violet followed behind.
"She loaded guns at Lucknow." Violet reminded. "It's that peculiar strain in Crawley women to do what they want. You've all got it. Edith with her driving and scribbling. You and your resolve to take over the hospital while breaking the heart of any young suitor without even letting the blow fall by degree to give him the strength to face it."
"Oh Granny…" Mary rolled her eyes.
"Tell me I'm wrong." Violet challenged her granddaughter. "Do you intend to say yes to anyone?"
"What? Before the bloom falls off the rose?" Mary's voice was icy. "Too bad it's not peace time and you could send me to Italy to scare up some unsuspecting Italian prince."
"There's something to be said for that."
"The world's changing. Sybil's decisions show that we can't all stay in our former places."
"Her rebellion you mean. If she were properly married her husband would be making these decisions for her."
Mary huffed, "How can you say that? Do we not have brains of our own?"
Her grandmother's cane quivered and she slumped slightly against Mary. Mary reached out to clasp her around the waist, keeping her upright. "I'm sorry for raising my voice Granny."
Granny took Mary's hand. Despite it's frail appearance, the grip was strong. "Don't worry, my dear. I've borne many changes in my lifetime and lived through more conflicts than I'd care to remember. Wars make us distinguish between the things that matter and the things that don't. This one is much the same."
"It's brutal." Mary agreed grimly. "The numbers of casualties are mounting. And there's no end in sight. The Germans even listen in to what the British commanders are saying so that they can counterattack."
"And what else does Matthew write from his new job in Belgium?" Violet asked with only a hint of slyness. "Is he really in danger? I know the king is very concerned about not having any heirs left to inherit and sit in the Lords. This war has gone on far too long."
"I…" Mary stiffened. "Matthew writes only to keep the family informed. Papa likes to know."
Violet started down the staircase. "You need to come up with a better reason than that to have us believe that's his motivation in writing specifically to you."
Mary had to smile. She could never pull the wool over her granny's eyes. "His letters are sometimes censored. I had to read between the lines to figure that out. They don't want us knowing anything of substance. He has told me he's broken things off with Lavinia."
Now that was news. Violet planted her cane on the landing step. "Does that mean what I think it does?"
Mary shrugged. "I don't know. He's given no indication of making his intentions clear."
"Then perhaps you should. Tell him what's in your heart. I know that you, like me, pretend not to have one. But I know otherwise. You just want to give it away to the right man."
"And Matthew Crawley is the right man, Granny?" Mary was shaken by her grandmother's bluntness so she tried to diffuse it with humor. "So that I can follow the lead of my husband's opinions and not make any decisions myself?"
"He'd be a fool if he thought that." Violet riposted. "You have more wit about you than most Crawley's."
"But isn't that what you just said about Sybil?"
"I can be as contrary as I want. Privilege of age." Granny laughed. They had reached the salon long after the rest of the family had left by the front door to get into the car to ride with Sybil to the train station.
Mary and Violet lagged behind.
"Everything is so topsy turvy I don't know anymore." Mary admitted. Sybil's volunteering for overseas service so soon after the events of Gretna Green had thrown her for a loop. She felt this pull to protect her little sister from any harm. And now she was to be in the thick of it.
As was Matthew. Neither of them spoke of it in their letters. Letters that grew more personal with every writing. He tried to reassure. He was fine. His eyes were functioning properly. There was no danger. But for reasons she could not quite explain, she didn't believe him.
"I want only what's best." Violet concluded before they reached the front door where they could no longer speak in private. "It's the job of grandmothers to interfere so you can take my advice or leave it. But if he feels the same way, and I think he does, you should give him a chance."
"Thank you, Granny." Mary said before they approached the rest of the family. "I will consider it."
Mary settled in beside Sybil. Edith was on the other side. The Crawley sisters wanted to be close to each other for as long as possible before having to finally let go.
XX
Matthew sat in the main hut waiting the signal call from the RFC observer planes. His job today was to patiently wait for signals capturing the gun boom of the German artillery picked up by a string of microphones laid down earlier. He'd press a relay button each time the observer aircraft signaled that would start a camera in the next room. The camera captured the sound of the battery flashed during the signal to begin the process of locating those enemy batteries and send that information up the chain of command to coordinate offensive attacks.
Essentially filming sound, Matthew realized when he first took the tour of the facility. Captain William Buchanan, a friendly Canadian officer, patiently took Matthew through the process. "Started by the Germans and the French, you know. You Brits are always slow to new things. But then Major Tucker invented the low frequency microphone and William Bragg the hot wire wave detector and we were in business."
An incredibly bright bulb shone onto a harp like device with six strings of microphone wire which ran through the hut roof as well as the walls and out onto the fields of battle. Prisms lined up behind each string captured and deflected the light at right angles into a dark room where film captured the movement of the prisms and each blip or eruption of the current was then marked with a time code. These strips were then taken into a map room. Other officers measured the gaps between the eruptions with lengths of string and then affixing one end of the string to a pin on the map and swing it from side to side to mark an arc. Each pin is a microphone location so where the arcs intersect the gun sites must be.
Matthew found it all astonishing. He couldn't say he understood the mathematics yet to plot the coordinates on the maps but he was a patient listener and so they stationed him with a set of earphones to pick up the signals from the observer craft. He was also learning to develop the films. Occasionally he and a team were sent out to restring the microphones as they became detached or were no longer in the proper locations.
"At night you can hear the guns distant from Nieppe and the front lines," Matthew started to write to Mary and then tore it up. He had to start thinking about everything he wrote as the censors would mark out any indication of where he was before the letter was sent on to England and Downton.
The pen hovered above the paper. Matthew had already written to Mary telling her of his meeting with Lavinia and the ending of their engagement. He had no expectations regarding her response to this decision. He had nothing really to give her. So many of her other suitors were already titled with land and wealth and a social position. He had none of those things.
Just the realization of a love unending.
He knew it now. Not idle or shallow. But an affection and regard that would last all the days of his life.
The next step was a proposal of marriage. Would she accept? They had kissed. They had flirted. But did all that add up to a willingness to commit to a lifetime with a man who had so little to offer. The title and inheritance of Downton most probably decades away, he had nothing but the stipend from Robert and the potential to do more than he had expected with a career once the war was over. Return to the notion of a law career maybe?
Oct 14, 1917
My dear Mary,
I hope all is well at Downton. I know you said in your last letter that the young footman William Mason's father was poorly and you sent him home to be with him in case the worst happened before he gets sent in the next draft to France. That was very good of you. I've not heard word from Mother about Reggie Swire's condition but fear it must have taken his life by now. I can hardly believe it's been four months since my arrival as the time flies by with all the work to be done. Mother has written to tell me she's joined the Red Cross and will travel with a party of other volunteers to Boulogne to help ferry patients between hospitals and the transport ships back to England. It should keep her very occupied.
Believe me, affectionately,
Matthew
He was eating lunch in the mess reading her letter when it came in the morning mail call.
Dear Matthew,
Mr. Mason has recovered and his son has joined the draft but at least he will go with the knowledge his father is on the mend. We have more convalescees than ever and have had to open up two more rooms upstairs. Your mother came by Downton on her way to London and the train to Dover to say good-bye. I believe she knows I write to you as she said to send her warmest love. The Red Cross wishes to put on another concert at Downton and so we are preparing once again. Edith has the piano tuned and I am trying to learn some of the new songs. She is engaged by the way to Major Strallan who has lost part of his arm while at Passchaendale. I might have misjudged "salty pudding" as he seems a good, decent man. A brave one as well. We all seem scattered to the winds these days. Sybil is in France, somewhere near Ypres I believe. So busy with her nursing she hardly writes at all.
Keep safe. Know you are in my thoughts daily.
Most affectionately yours,
Mary
Matthew smiled and put the letter inside his jacket pocket.
Next to his heart.
The next day when the mail call arrived he was surprised to hear his name. Mary couldn't have written so soon again and he had already received a letter from his mother.
A dark rimmed envelope was handed to him. That meant only one thing. Someone had died. He steeled himself to see Lavinia's handwriting telling him of her father's demise. But the left sloped script was not Lavinia's. It had been sent to his former post in York and then forwarded to Belgium.
He opened it. Reading swiftly his hand started to shake as the contents were revealed.
My dear Matthew,
I am writing to inform you that Lavinia died in the bombing raid that recently occurred over the skies of London. She was on her way home from a charity event when it happened. I was told it was very sudden and she felt no pain. I have no way of knowing if that's merely to comfort a grieving father. My own recovery has been slow but steady even if these past days have sent me back to my bed. I felt your former attachment warranted a personal letter telling you of her death. You are a good man and I know she always felt very highly about you.
Sincerely,
Reggie Swire
The paper fell from his hand. Matthew stared into the empty space, unable to move. Unable to feel.
"Crawley?" A voice from the doorway. "We need to get a party together to check some strings. Up for it?"
Startled, Matthew's face turned. His eyes slits of steely blue. "Absolutely." He shoved the chair back and followed the Captain out the hut.
XX
"Mary the men have finished moving the piano into the library. They're about to set up the chairs. Do you want to go over the songs again?" Edith called out into the salon.
Mary was walking towards the drawing room.
"Do I have to? I've got loads of paperwork to catch up."
"Just one time."
"Very well." Mary followed her sister back into the library. "Have you heard from your major?" She asked casually, having resolved to make an extra effort to get to know and like Edith better. Sybil being away seemed to make the two remaining sisters more tolerable towards each other.
"He's doing some work for the Quartermaster General now. Dogs body stuff he calls it but at least it keeps him busy." Edith gently rotated her engagement ring on her third finger. "If Sybil is serious about her former chauffeur, you'll be the only one without a beau."
Mary scoffed. "I have more important things to worry about right now."
Edith slyly smirked and returned to the piano arrangements.
"What?" Mary's eyes narrowed.
"Mary I know you and Matthew are writing. Is there any news on that front?"
"So what?" Mary's eyes narrowed coldly. "We write. There's not much more to be said." Mary rejected her sister's interest. Why was it so difficult to talk to Edith when she thought nothing of confessing all to Sybil? The two had been too much at odds over the years. This reconciliation would take more than she imagined. It was so much easier to tease and torment. Mary sighed, "I mean to say he's very busy and his work takes a great deal of concentration. I've not heard from him however in about a week."
Edith gave an encouraging smile for she knew how much effort that took for Mary to open up even that much. "Maybe we'll hear something soon."
Mary was called away by the matron and Edith waited for her return.
She heard her father on the telephone in the salon, "I see. Thank you for letting me know."
He rang off and walked into the library, his fingers on his brow.
"Are you all right Papa?" Edith asked.
"That was the War Office. Matthew's not been seen since he went out a few days ago with a party to fix some of the microphone lines. It's quite possible he'll be listed officially as Missing in Action."
"Dear God." Edith's hands flew to her face.
"Let's not all fall to pieces quite yet. He might turn up at a hospital. It does happen. Or…" He swallowed.
"Taken prisoner?" Edith finished the sentence.
The two exchanged worried looks.
"They could not contact Isobel which is why they telephoned here."
"She's in France I think Mary said." Edith informed her father.
Robert nodded. "Well we'll have to wait and see. Where is Mary? Maybe we shouldn't tell her…"
At that moment she walked back into the library.
"Tell me what?" Mary's eyes widened. "What's happened?"
Edith walked over. "Matthew's missing. He's sort of vanished along with a group of other men. It doesn't seem right to keep you in the dark."
Mary's face turned ashen. She nodded mechanically.
"I'm not trying to upset you, truly." Edith bit the side of her mouth. They were always ever out to make the other hurt.
"I believe you." Mary clasped her sister's hand. "Thank you for telling me."
She turned away before Edith or her father could see the start of the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
XX
Thoughts?
I did my best with the sound ranging. Most of the information used came from : "Stop, hey, what's that sound?" /2013/01/10/stop-hey-whats-that-sound/ via wordpressdotcom