Author's Note: A few questions/concerns to address. First, I am still sick so this chapter continues to be a little less ambitious. But hopefully you still like it. To double scotch's very well written response to my A/N on Mary asking for forgiveness for Pamuk on the show (see her comment to understand more fully)...I do agree with you. It was very modern (at the time) for Matthew to set it all aside. Many men would not have then. I should have separated the two issues because Matthew calling them cursed bothered me in and of itself. Even if the Pamuk incident never happened, Matthew blaming Mary for helping to kill Lavinia, not cool, man. But thanks for your point and I totally agree. I hope we continue to see a *modern* Matthew and Mary in season three. Don't you? Golden12: I meant to mention in my last author's note, thank God DNA testing was many years away. Certainly made my life easier. Your reviews are always super insightful and bring up a lot of good points and questions (hint hint). Is Sir Richard gone for good? Well all I can reveal is that, unfortunately, Sir Richard has not, in the past three years dropped dead. Faeyero, you asked the same question about Sir Richard. And to you I must give the same answer. He is still alive. I can't reveal more than that. Also as to being glad they are waiting for the wedding night...obviously I agree because I'm writing it that way. Ha! As *modern* as they are, you can take the girl out of Downton but not the Downton (totally) out of the girl. Though they are very busy in getting to know each other's bodies, this is purposeful too. No doubt, Mary has a lot of anxiety about the wedding night (wouldn't you in her shoes?) and each time they are together "on the couch" and it ends safely and lovingly lessens her fears, I believe, and also turns her anxiety to a bit of excitement, eh? Your comment also hit the nail on the head. Richard and Pamuk didn't count. And that is why I/Larsen had to insist she wear white! Magley: thank you for reviewing when you usually don't. It made me so happy to hear that! And don't worry, Violet is my fave to write so you will see a lot of her. Hope to hear from you again. Sorry this is long but if you have a question, I will always do my best to answer it.

Chapter Eleven

Mary lay back on the couch in her nightgown awaiting Matthew/fiancé/father of her child (could all those things really be true? and would husband be added to the list in few days time?) while Matthew rocked Gracie to sleep and fed Gracie what he called her "night cap." He'd look elated and surprised when she suggested that he do it tonight. "Are you sure?" he asked, like a little boy who was being told he could stay awake past his bedtime.

"Of course, I'm sure." She leaned forward and took his face in her hands, feeling his day's beard, and laid a lingering kiss on his lips. The baby laughed and called for mo' even before they parted. "She's ours now."

Even now, waiting for him on the couch, her arms above her, pillowing her head, her ankles crossed, she felt perfectly comfortable with the arrangement. Gracie did not belong to solely Mary anymore and when she saw the way Matthew grew positively elated over the smallest new task or simple thing he was able to do for or with Gracie or the way Grace looked at him, like he really was a prince from her story books come to life, it wasn't hard to share. It wasn't hard to share at all. Though just a week ago, it would have pained her to admit that there was something to the old maxim that a little girl needs her papa, in Grace's case, she seemed to be blossoming under Matthew's attention. In Matthew's case, she could practically see him lightening after every hour he spent in Grace's company. She had no doubts (and what a strange feeling after having so many for so long) when it came to Matthew truly being Grace's father.

"I'm sorry," Matthew whispered as he climbed a top of her, pressing kisses up the front of her night gown.

"I like seeing you two together. I like knowing that it's just the two of you sometimes, sharing secrets away from Mama," Mary admitted and Matthew, knowing Mary as he did, especially as a mother, knew this was the highest possible praise he could get from her as a mother to a father. I believe in you immensely, she seemed to be saying. I couldn't be here with you if I didn't.

Matthew showed his appreciation by leaning forward and taking her mouth with his, nibbling at first, teasing with her tongue, and then quite suddenly his hands were literally wrapped around her hair, their mouths open, tongues tangled, as he laid between her legs. "We're supposed to talk too," he reminded her breathlessly as he pressed hot kisses to the side of her throat, sucking on her skin. Somehow, she had no idea how, because they were awfully tiny buttons, he'd manage to undo the three at her throat, and he was kissing her there, at her clavicle a little nibble, and then open mouth kisses a few inches down.

"Just take it off," she complained. "I don't care, just take the damned thing off." She felt his smile at her curse (a rarity for her) but she didn't feel like smiling. He shook his head, saying, "Not yet," but to appease her, his hands did go to her breasts, taking her nipples between his fingers while she gasped and tried to move her hips against his, but he was laying so she couldn't.

"We're supposed to talk about that letter," he insisted, his whisper hot against her ear.

"You're doing this on purpose," she complained, when his each of his hands cupped her breasts and began to massage them, leaning up to nip at her lips.

"What, darling?"

"Driving me crazy," she barely got the last word out because there he was again, sucking her own lip into his mouth, his hands moving on her breasts.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, her lip between his teeth as he spoke.

"Of course not, I already told you to take my nightgown off," she replied in a very perturbed Lady Mary voice (could Lady Mary demand to have a man take off her nightgown? On some level it seemed like quite the oxymoron.)

His hands went to her face, his thumbs brushing across the soft skin there, as their kisses spun out. Her hands which had been restlessly searching for something to touch during this entire interlude, went to his wrists, just barely touching. She felt tears at the back of her eyes, in her throat, the way he was kissing her, what he was trying to say with just lips. "Alright now, darling," he whispered against her lips. "We're going up to bed where there are rules to finish this discussion. Though you know," he kissed her again, in that aching way, "I would stay here forever if we could."

When he stood, and offered a hand to her, his posture seemed a little different, bent at the waist, as if he were a little uncomfortable. Then he picked her up into his arms and began to carry her up the stairs, his gait still peculiar. "Matthew! Your back!"

He shook his head and shushed her as they neared the nursery. "My back is fine," he insisted gallantly.

"Then why are you walking like that?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like you're in pain, and you have this grimace on your face. Am I too heavy? Put me down," she demanded.

He did as she asked, dropping her rather rudely from a high level to the bed so that she bounced. "See! You are walking strangely!" she pointed at him as he walked around the bed to his side.

"I'm not," he said through his teeth. "I'm perfectly fine."

"I told you that you shouldn't have been wrestling today with her, now you're hurt..."

"You think Gracie did this?" he asked incredulously.

"Well who else?"

"You, woman! You think we can do all our couch activities without any repercussions? Oh, stop, with your questions," he said, blindly reaching out his hand so the whole thing covered her face. "You don't need to know any of it. I wished you wouldn't even have noticed in the first place. You'll question it to death."

She delicately bit his hand, hard, and he removed it. "Oh and I'm the only curious one?" she asked sitting up. "Tell me every single detail about labor Mary. Oh and what was that bit about you so enormously fat in the bath tub?" she mocked him.He laughed at her, at the pair of them really. "What repercussions?" she insisted.

"Oh, God," he looked up at the ceiling, much like Mary had when talking about a subject that embarrassed her. "When a man becomes...er...aroused," he decided on at last.

"Which you were?" Mary asked, her chin in her hand.

He looked at her dryly. "As I have consistently been since we met here again in New York..."

"No! Really?" but she sounded enormously pleased with herself.

"Anyway," his eyes went to the ceiling. "When a man becomes aroused and he cannot or does not...complete the act...it can be a little painful."

"You've been in pain? Oh my, darling," she murmured and reached over to kiss every part of his face.

"You're breaking a rule," he hissed. "And that doesn't help...the situation...at all." Gently, he pushed her away.

"But...but what can I do?"

"Marry me in three days and not a moment later," he replied with a grin.

"But until then, you'll be in pain. That doesn't seem fair."

"It's not constant and I'll live and that's all I'm going to say about the matter."

She looked down at him. "I'll try that line the next time you start asking me exactly what labor felt like and see if that works on you. But anyway," she gave in, "the letter."

He turned to her so they lay facing one another with a foot of space between them. "Well what do you think of it?" he replied.

"Well, you're to be my husband soon," Mary almost looked shy. "And while I am very stubborn and have a mind of my own, I do wish to know your opinion on this."

"I feel the opposite is true, Mary," he reached out a hand for her and she gratefully took it. "You're the one who has stayed away. You have to be the one to decide when it's alright to go back."

She bit her lip. "I think...I think maybe now may be the time. But listen to my reasons, I really do value your opinion. Particularly because this affects us all, especially Gracie. I was always afraid to go, knowing that even if I very ferociously defended and protected her, that I was still an unmarried woman and that not everyone would obey my wishes. But going back with you, married, and to the heir...I don't think anyone would dare question you."

"Your granny has in the past, though that wouldn't be a problem this time around. My mother also may be a problem. We would have to be resolute. We would say that Gracie is mine, completely and in every way, but what about our marriage? Do we lie about the date? What explains your absence? And me shirking my responsibilities?"

She wet her lips. "Oh! Can't we just say that it's complicated and it's none of their business?"

"We could," he raised an eyebrow. "I don't imagine it going over well. But if stand together in it, both of us refusing to budge, it could work. I believe it could."

She smiled wanly. "The other issue is that...I like my life here with Gracie and now with you too of course. I like that I get to spend most of the day with her. I like that I get to have dinner with her at the table. I like bathing her and being with her. I like letting her run around in her nappy before a bath."

"You must know we are in agreement on all of that as well."

"Yes, Matthew, of course I know," she said gently. "It's one of the many reasons why I love you. But it would't be like that at Downton. I do miss home. I always have. But even if I could completely protect Grace there, I never thought I could be the type of mother I wanted to be there."

"And why not?" he asked. "Again, the answer is the two of us. We will be resolute in this. And we will be staying at Crawley house..." he reminded her and she nodded in agreement. "Which is a bit more lax than the big house anyway. But we will be absolutely firm in running our family the way we want to. We are her mother and we are her father and that is simply it."

"Granny will have a stroke if we try to bring Grace into the big dining room," Mary commented.

"Well, there may be a few nights, where we eat an earlier dinner with Grace and then put her to sleep before going to the dining room but," he added. "I don't think it is completely impossible that your granny fall completely in love with Grace and demand her presence at dinner. I could tell in the letter. She plans to champion Gracie in all the ways she feels she could not champion you. She is a much softer touch than many people realize."

"Times are changing," Mary said sagely, in an Irish accent, doing a fair impersonation of Tom Branson. "Oh and I am sure Sybil will be our ally in this as well. They don't have a nanny either. And I'm sure...all of us, together can..."

He leaned forward and kissed her so quickly she didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd broken a rule. "If the motto of our time in New York has been we will practice then let it be at Downton together we will be resolute."

"I'm actually a little excited," she said, her toes tickling his calf. "I'll write to Granny tomorrow and break the news that by the time she get the letter we will be married. And also emphasize the delicacy in the matter. And...Matthew, someone needs to tell your mother that you're bringing a wife and a child to her home."

"You think Cousin Violet is the best option then?" he asked, trying to hide his horror.

She bit her lip and nodded at his reaction. "I really do. I trust Granny with these matters. You don't know all that she done for me. Moreover, you must know that in recent years, they're very nearly friends. Their attempts to embarrass one another are all in good fun...or mostly good fun. And I will prevail upon Granny's good nature that she must be as gentle with your mother as possible in announcing that we are married and that we have a child."

"I can't say I'm unhappy to miss that conversation," Matthew commented, offering Mary a cozy haven beneath his arm.

She scooted into place, giggling. "Me either. And I will ask Granny to get a hold of a crib, a changing table, a high chair..."

"A pram," Matthew added sleepily. "A rocking chair. You know she will spoil her rotten."

Mary yawned. "I believe that if one lives long enough to see one's great grandchildren grown one has every right to spoil them. I certainly plan on spoiling ours."

He smiled into her hair, his heart aching at her words in the best way, before reaching over to turn off the light. "I will remind you when Violet shows up at the train station with a pony and a puppy and giraffe."

"Well, not a giraffe," Mary laughed. There was companionable silence between them now in the dark.

"Darling?" she asked in the dark. "I know we have a no wiggling rule but I just have to adjust..."

"It's not as important of a rule when we are laying like this."

She hummed in her throat. "Perhaps you could explain the particulars of that to me once we are married. Goodnight, darling."

Author's Note: Sorry it was a little shorter but I actually really had fun writing this one. What do you think? Look for a few surprises next chapter...Thank you SO SO much for the comments. There would be no way to keep up this pace without them. They really motivate and inspire me, have me questioning some of my choices in the best way. So speak up. xx