Chapter 14
Mary October 1919
Mary watched idly as a leaf, brown around the edges, detached itself from its branch and floated slowly to the ground. How soon summer seemed to have faded into autumn she thought. Her life seemed to be passing her by so quickly.
She was twenty eight years old, and she knew she ought really to be married. Richard had begun to hound her to set a date for their wedding and, given they'd now been engaged for over a year, she couldn't really blame him. She'd managed to put him off by attending more official engagements with him in London, but she knew she couldn't delay for much longer. Once Christmas was over she would have to agree to a date in the spring; not even she could manage to delay longer than that.
She just didn't want to marry him; he set her teeth on edge. He was angry, and rough with her and she couldn't remember the last time he'd made her laugh. And he was so jealous all the time. She supposed he thought he had a right to be jealous of Matthew, but, true to his vow, Matthew had offered nothing but friendship to her. There had been no secret meetings, no illicit trysts or stolen kisses. Nothing but friendship.
Another leaf started its slow descent to the ground as she watched from the bench which she thought of as hers and Matthew's. If only there was some way of extricating herself from Richard without exposing her family to ridicule and shame. She'd spent an inordinate amount of time pondering this question over the last few months, but had always drawn a blank. Richard had made it quite clear on a number of occasions that he would publish her scandal should she throw him over and that wouldn't just hurt her, but the whole family. There was no escape. She sighed loudly and jumped as a familiar voice called her name.
Matthew tipped his hat at her in greeting and she nodded her head.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Matthew asked.
If only she could tell him, Mary thought.
"I was just thinking that even I cannot delay setting a wedding date any longer than I have done" she said with a wry smile.
A shadow passed momentarily over Matthew's face.
"You're really going to marry him then?" he asked.
"Yes" she said simply.
"But..." Matthew began, but before he could continue Mary cut him off.
"Let's not argue about this Matthew" she said touching him arm briefly.
"Nothing about this is black and white."
Matthew nodded though whether in agreement Mary couldn't tell.
Matthew Christmas Night 1919
Matthew had always loved Christmas at Downton. It was nice to spend the day with lots of other people, rather than just with his mother, and there was a pleasant informality about it, barring the dinner itself, of course, which was always spectacular in a very Downton way.
Today, Christmas night, he sat contentedly in the drawing room with Isis at his feet as the family played charades, or, as Cousin Violet insisted, The Game. The fire was warm on his face as he sipped his whisky and watched Mary, his darling Mary, mid-charade. He loved Mary like this: relaxed and happy. It was so different to how she seemed to be most of the time. He laughed out loud as she she acted as, what he could only presume, was a madman. It was adorable. Perhaps it was the whisky in him, but he thought she had never looked so beautiful.
Charade over, Mary resumed her seat next to Carlisle. The all too familiar jealousy rose in his stomach as he watched Richard lean over and whisper something in Mary's ear. He knew he had no right to feel jealous, but all the same he couldn't understand why Mary was still intent on marrying Carlisle of all people. He knew Mary was a practical sort of person, and so he assumed that, despite their situation, she felt the need to be married and have a position, but why Richard? Richard who was clearly rough and unkind to her. If she had to be married to someone else then he wanted a good man for her, someone who would treat her as she deserved. She could do so much better than Carlisle, and he couldn't understand why she persisted in something which made her so unhappy.
He took another sip of his whisky and watched as Richard re-took his seat next to Mary following a very reluctant and lacklustre performance in The Game. He leaned towards her again and kissed her on her cheek; Matthew was sure he saw her flinch. He hated seeing Richard kiss Mary, as he imagined he would hate seeing any man, even a good and honourable one, kiss her. He closed his eyes briefly to escape them and remembered Mary telling him, that one glorious time, that she loved him. The memory warmed his heart more than any amount of whisky could.
It had been harder than he had thought, being true to his vows to Lavinia. Whilst he was glad that things were clear and open between him and Mary, it required an inordinate amount of self control on his part to maintain a friendship-only relationship with Mary knowing how she felt about him. He was sure it would get easier with time especially if Mary did ever actually marry Carlisle and move to Haxby. He couldn't imagine Downton without Mary, though. The two were so inextricably intertwined. Mary was the soul of Downton and Downton was the blood that ran through her veins.
"Mary, will you visit Downton much when you move to Haxby?" he asked her across the room.
Before Mary could answer, Richard cut in.
"Lady Mary will be much occupied in setting up our home together" he said curtly.
Mary opened her mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it. She smiled resignedly at Matthew.
"I am sure that I will want to visit my family a good deal, but I will have to see how much time married life affords me."
His heart broke for her. Why was she going on with this?