A/N: In England prior to 1937 (this story takes place in 1920) a woman could not petition for divorce merely on grounds of adultery, as men could; she required additional grounds, such as cruelty. Proof of cruelty would involve a messy public trial, something Mary and her family wished to avoid.
Sisyphean Love
Libiamo ne' lieti calici
August 23, 1920
"You want me to ..to..." Matthew's mind whirled.
Mary stood up. "Where is your bedroom?" Let's get it over with she thought then I can go home and douche and wash men out of my life forever.
He stared at her slack jawed. It was too much. After listening, reading, seeing the abomination that was Mary's life to be propositioned by her in such a manner was much too grotesque for him to withstand. He wanted to laugh. It was so bizarre. He had listened to this whole maniacal storey expecting the denouement would be a request that he kill her husband, which he was prepared to do, request or not, and instead she had asked him... she had asked him to bed her. Forthwith. And that was all, there was no hint of any 'lived happily ever after'. He was being asked to stand at stud. Gratis. He had thought he had freed himself of the House of Grantham and to be reconnected with it in this way was a cosmic joke. This had to end.
He could not look at her. He got up and started walking to the door. "Thanks, but no thanks. Come on, I'll drive you back to Grantham House" he said over his shoulder. Then he noticed that she was standing there, not making any sound but sobbing so hard he could see ripples running down her body; tears were streaming down her face.
He went to her and hugged her to him. She did not respond. She was as rigid as a post.
"Mary, Mary, Mary" he murmured into her hair. He lead her back to the sofa, and lifting her up, sat down with her on his lap, cuddling her, rocking her.
That was where Anna found them at six when she came to announce dinner was ready. She decided to come back later. She did reset the dining room table, moving Mary's place setting from the end of the table opposite Matthew's, to just around the corner of the table from his place.
-0-
It took Matthew two hours, and a promise 'to think about it' to calm Mary down. During that time he had felt as if he were suffering a recurrence of the paralysis he had suffered at the end of the war; her weight on his lap, slight though it was, had cut off the circulation to his legs.
"Tonight is out of the question" he said.
She nodded her agreement against his chest.
"After dinner I will take you home and then we can try again in a few days." As a lawyer he knew that sometime delay could make the most intractable problems go away.
"I'm not hungry"
"Anna will never let me hear the end of it if you do not make a show of eating a few bites."
With the hand which was not clutching his handkerchief she was tracing the most disconcerting circles on his chest. "Could I stay here tonight?"
"Ah .. ah"
"Please"
"What about clothes and such?"
"I can phone Grantham House and have something sent over"
"That reminds me, I was supposed to telephone your grandmother to let her know how you were getting on. I'll do so while you freshen up."
Mary got up off his lap. Matthew pushed himself up. His legs were like posts. He stumbled.
"Are you okay?"
"My legs just went to sleep, they'll be fine in a minute if I keep moving."
-0-
"So have you agreed to do what she asks of you?" Violet asked.
Matthew stared for five beats at the telephone before answering. "I said I would think about it."
"Well that is a good start."
"She wants to stay here tonight."
"That is a very good start. Have your man come by at eight tomorrow morning and I send some clothes for her."
"What about tonight?"
"Surely you have some pyjamas she can wear, or not. You both will make do."
-0-
Mary discovered she was very hungry. The act of telling her story had been like shifting the load of it onto Matthew. It was no longer her problem. She was free. For the first time in months the dark cloud over her was gone. And she was ravenous. The reheated Florentine Steak and vegetables were divine. Anna was a marvellous cook. She cleaned her plate and then started making envious glances at Matthew's plate. He was just toying with his food. He did not seem to have much appetite. He was in a reverie.
"I know it is improper" Mary smiled to herself, this was a day for improper requests "but do you mind if I have a little bit of your steak and maybe some of the ..."
Matthew snapped awake. He looked at his plate and then at hers. He switched plates with her.
"If you keep eating like that Anna will love you."
"She is an excellent cook"
"Don't let her hear that, she'll want a raise"
"Whatever you are paying her, she deserves more"
"Deserves what?" Anna came into the dining room carrying a small chocolate torte.
"Our apologizes for keeping you going so late. Please call it a night. We can serve ourselves."
Anna left, but not before Mary complimented her to the heavens. Matthew could see that Mary had made a conquest there.
Matthew watched Mary finish his meal and then start eyeing the torte.
"How big a piece would you like?"
"Why don't you just put it between us and we can start on the ends and meet in the middle."
As it happened they met more towards Matthew's end. Much more.
"Do you always eat like this?" he asked with a smile. She had some cake crumb just below her lip. He wondered if he should, could brush it off. Nibble it off. His head started moving towards her.
"No, but I could if it was all this good." She was watching his lips. His voice was so soft, his lips must be the same. Her head started moving towards his.
They kissed over the remains of the torte. Tentative at first and then her hand went up to his head and she pulled him towards her.
Ad then he broke off. He stared at her. She looked disappointed. She had awoken a hunger in him. It was not right. Not after what he had heard tonight.
"It's too early for bed ..." she gave him that small smile. He got flustered. "I mean ah .. ah let's go into the library and.. talk"
-0-
Mary sat on the short sofa, Matthew in the easy chair. Neither knew what to say.
After three long minutes of uncomfortable silence Matthew stood up.
"I don't think I told Anna you are staying tonight. While I'm gone take off your shoes and stockings." He turned to leave.
"Pardon me? What did you say?"
"I'm going to tell..."
"No, the last part."
"Take off your shoes and stockings"
Mary tilted her head at him.
"Bear with me"
Matthew left. Mary sat bemused for a minute then she got up, kicked off her shoes, hitched up her dress and started unhooking her stockings from her garter belt. Compared to the request she had made of him his request was not that unreasonable. She shrugged to herself. In for a penny in for a pound. She got her stockings off and sat waiting for him. Even though the room was warm in the August evening she felt goose pimples on her bare legs.
When Matthew came back he was carrying a pillow and an afghan blanket. He put the pillow at one end of the long sofa.
"Come lay down" he gestured at the pillow.
Mary looked at the pillow and then at him. Was this it? "Is it proper..."
"We are already well past proper. Come and lay down"
Mary walked over to the long sofa and laid down. Matthew spread the blanket over her then he sat down at the other end. He picked up her feet and rested them on his leg.
"What are you doing?"
"Shh, you talk too much"
Matthew picked up her right foot in his left hand. With his right forefinger he started at her heel and lightly traced around the outside of her foot; pausing at each toe and then finishing back at her heel. Then he flexed each toe; then her arches and lastly her ankle. He slowly moved his fingertips across the sole. It was not ticklish but it still made her tingle. He rubbed his forefinger between each pair of toes; slowly. Oh so slowly.
"What..."
"Hush"
He bent his head down and she thought he was going to kiss her foot but instead he put his nose so close to her toes she could feel him breathing. He inhaled deeply, held it for a moment and then gently exhaled, his hot breath running down the channels between her toes across the top of her foot and then up her bare leg to ... She shut her eyes and felt her body humming.
Matthew put down her right foot, picked up up her left foot and repeated the process. Her right foot felt cold, left out and ... jealous.
He put her left foot back down on his leg. He started massaging her right foot with one hand and her left foot with his other hand. He stared ahead, he seemed to be in a trance.
"I told you of my life, you must tell me of yours."
"That doesn't necessarily follow"
He quit massaging her feet. She gave him a nudge with her right foot to get him started again.
"Please" she pleaded "I would like to know"
After such a while that she almost asked him again he said "I survived the war, that about sums it up."
Without thinking she said "You have done rather well for yourself" meaning the house and office; only realizing her mistake when he pushed her feet off his leg.
"My son is dead. My wife is dead. My mother is dead. My father-in-law is dead. My friends are dead. All I did was survive." He went all rigid.
Mary sat up and moved to his side. "I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that." She could see a tear forming in the corner of his eye. She took his head in her hands and kissed him. "Please forgive me" She lifted up his right arm and snuggled under it. She could feel his rigidity soften and then he pulled the blanket over her legs and hugged her closer.
She waited until he had started playing with her hair to ask "What was your wife like?"
He waited a long time to answer, but he did not quit playing with her hair.
"She was very sweet..."
"You had a very happy married life"
"Yes, but to be fair, it was not like we had a regular married life. It was more like.." he had to think a moment, counting the leaves they were together "six honeymoons strung together."
"Did you ever do to her what Richard did to me?"
"Good heavens no. I never hit her, I never..."
"No, I meant the things he did to... made me do ... in bed... and elsewhere..."
"No... we were very ah... traditional in what we did" Matthew was too ashamed to admit that he would have liked to have done some of the things Mary had described, without the violence, with a willing participant, of course, but Lavinia had insisted on doing it only the one way and he had never made an issue of it.
"You must think I am a horrid person for having done some of those things..."
He tilted her head up with his hand. Their faces were only about four inches apart. He could feel her breath on his face. "You must never ever think that. You were forced. Think of that chocolate torte we had for dessert. You loved it" She nodded. "You wouldn't have loved it if I would have jammed it down your throat" She shook her head. "That's the difference, never forget it." Their faces were closer yet. "Now I would like to kiss you if you will allow me..." She stopped him talking with her lips.
She twisted around so she was laying across his lap. She looked up at him. "Would you like to do some of those things with me?"
He noticed she said 'with' not 'to'. He bent his head down and kissed her to give himself time to think of an answer. He realized he loved her but he did not know if he liked her enough to surrender his life to her. If they did any of those things, even the traditional one, it could only be if they were together forever. He could spend eternity with his ideal Mary but what of this emotional mess? Whom was the real Mary? He imagined that if he ever teased her or argued with her she would fall to pieces. Every day would be a walk through a mine field. "Small steps first. Let's start with kisses and see where it leads us. Now it's been a long day, let's get you to bed" she gave him that small smile "to sleep"
"And perchance to dream?"
"Good dreams only, sweet dreams. Now can you walk or do you want me to carry you?"
"I will walk. Will you tuck me in?"
"Yes" and he kissed her again. Then he walked her up the stairs.
