Picking up where we left off…

XX

At that moment the front doorbell rang. Matthew stopped in mid-sentence, grateful for the temporary reprieve. He heard the housekeeper open the door and greet the visitor.

"Thank you. Thank you. Where is everyone?" The high toned voice of a well-born aristocrat was unmistakable. Dismissive yet polite. Demanding yet kind.

"Lord Grantham is in the library with Mr. Crawley." Mrs. Patmore's north country accent was also distinct and inimitable. Practical and undaunted by class or station in life.

"Who?" Violet asked, and followed the housekeeper with peaked curiosity.

"The Dowager Countess." Mrs. Patmore announced.

"Robert…" The tone questionable.

"Mother come in and meet someone." Robert strided towards her and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Matthew…." And he brought the younger man, still looking more pallid than ever, towards yet another distant next of kin. He probably should have asked Mary for a rundown of all the family relations. "Come and meet my mother. She would be a distant cousin, I suppose. Violet Crawley."

Matthew approached.

"This is the new heir Murray discovered. Matthew Reginald Crawley." Robert enthused voice only slightly strained from the earlier interrupted conversation.

"Hello young man." She took Matthew's proffered left hand, noticing the awkward handshake but saying nothing. Meanwhile taking him all in with a glance up and down. "How far back did they have to go to find this one? And what happened to the Canadian cousin?"

"Michael." Robert said with a huff of resignation. "He turned out to have MS and his doctor told him he could no longer travel across the ocean. So we went a little deeper and found Matthew here." He gave Matthew a pat on the back. But said nothing more.

There was so much to disclose.

And Matthew doubted that he'd keep Robert's enthused support once he divulged what the tabloids publicized about his activities with Mary in France. He bit the inside of his cheek.

"Very nice to meet you ...erm… Lady Grantham." He attempted the correct protocol.

"Cousin Violet will suffice." She smiled kindly towards Matthew. "I hope everyone has been very welcoming."

Robert harrumphed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand.

"What is going on?" Violet turned to Robert. "You never do that unless there is some vile accounting."

Matthew shifted his eyes back and forth. And took a deep breath.

Robert interrupted what appeared to be the beginning of Matthew's confession. "Maybe you'd like to go to the garden and greet Matthew's mother Isobel who's visiting from Manchester."

"Why do you want to get rid of me?" Violet straightened her shoulders as she took the armchair near the window. "Robert what is going on here?"

"Matthew was about to tell me when you arrived." Imperceptibly Robert's shoulders slumped and he nodded for Matthew to continue. "Something Mary has messaged him."

"Well…" Matthew tried again, facing Robert. "Mary and I did not tell you the entire story of our stay in Cannes. And now it seems …" he wiped brow as he suddenly felt his face flush and develop beads of sweat. "It seems some tabloid rag has gotten hold of some pictures that were taken without our knowledge and have published them."

"What do you mean? Pictures? Spill it man…what's going on." Robert moved towards him to glimpse what exactly was on Matthew's mobile that he kept close to his chest. Hidden still from view.

In a surprisingly calm voice he said, "Mary and I were more intimate than we first disclosed. I rented a villa for the night after I had arrived and we spent some time on the beach and near the pool located within the confines of the villa complex."

Robert was getting impatient for Matthew to get to the point. He thrummed his fingers on the desk.

For Matthew the unburdening of a confession seemed to have the opposite effect. The initial shock and numbing sensation had worn off. He was now still, a cold fury building within.

"These…these pictures are of us making love near the pool." He finished. He pursed his lips and pulled his hand down his cheek. Their beautiful time in Cannes. Ruined? Not if he still had breath in his body.

But now the man who had just a day ago offered Matthew the world in the form of an inheritance demanded he turn over the pictures so he could see for himself.

Robert reached out for the mobile. Matthew reluctantly handed it over. . A slow look of disgust transforming his face. Violet glanced as well. She blanched and turned away.

Silence initially descended as the reality of the predicament sunk in.

Matthew felt he had to add, "Mary also said her husband's lawyers are already digging into this to find a way to use it to their advantage."

Violet exhaled. "Well...I always thought this family might be approaching dissolution. I didn't know dissolution was already upon us." She turned to Matthew. "You've only just gotten to know us? How is this possible?"

Robert answered wearily. "Matthew is also the father of Mary's son George. It seems they had a past relationship that she kept secret."

"Private…" Matthew muttered to himself.

Robert glared at the younger man. "Semantics."

Matthew rolled his eyes but let it go.

"Well I must say the two of you are good liars."

Through gritted teeth Matthew said, "We kept some information from you, true…"

"You lied about just going to Cannes to talk to her."

Matthew said nothing. His gaze took him out to the window where he saw that Cora was on her mobile. With Mary presumably. Isobel stood close by, trying to catch what was going on with only half the conversation open to her ears. He slowly shut his eyes to the scene. Some homecoming this had turned out to be.

Robert continued in the same offended voice. "You… and Mary…" He spluttered. "She's still married." He enunciated each word as if Matthew was a small child who needed to have things spelled out for him. "You put my daughter and this family in an untenable position."

"Your daughter is an adult. We are both adults. And perfectly capable of making our own decisions."

"Bad ones…" Robert turned on him. "Just like George. You don't seem to understand propriety at all. Or have any restraint….Do you have any idea how to conform to the fitness of things?"

It was Matthew's turn to glare. His words icy. "I have learned the hard way to fashion my own understanding of those terms, yes." Gripping his right hand he continued, "Three years of doing my duty has taught me many things. Of interrogating prisoners who may not actually be guilty of any crime other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And I've since realized most answers rest not within absolutes-truth or lies—but in the grey zones stuck between." His voice grew quiet. The pounding in his head had started.

Robert started to protest, but one glance at Violet stopped him. Instead he realized he had gone too far. He stopped short of apologizing though. "It should never have happened." Was all he could manage to say.

The two men were in a stand off.

"Enough of this. The two of you." Violet snapped. "None of this bickering will help assuage the situation. When something bad happens, there's no point in wishing it had not happened. The only option is to minimize the damage."

"Or try to." Cora said, picking up the thread of the conversation as she and Isobel returned from the garden.

Matthew and his mother appraised the other. She could see he was in agony. He felt rotten that he landed her in the middle of all this when all he wanted was a pleasant evening for their reunion.

Violet's head was whirling from these revelations. But she refused to give way to emotion. "So what you're telling me is that on top of the confession of George's parentage you are also telling me you and Mary have renewed that relationship. And that somehow it has been made public through these pictures."

Matthew curtly nodded in acknowledgement. "I am terribly sorry for all this." But he was not ashamed of his activity in Cannes with Mary. "We knew what we were doing. And we'll resolve it. None of you need worry. I was merely apprising you of the situation. I… or … we will decide what to do."

"Where is Mary?" Violet ventured. "She's obviously not here."

"She's in London. Getting back into her show after taking some time off to attend Patrick's funeral." Robert said, still glowering at Matthew. "And obviously spending time in France."

"Enough." Cora said. "Violet is right. We have to think what to do now. I've been on the phone with her and she's on top of things at her end."

It was Violet who observed Matthew's hand shaking. His massaging had become obsessive. He was going to reinjure it if he kept it up. His eyes had taken on a fixed look.

"Leave us." She briskly said to Cora. "Take Robert with you. Go find something to do. I want to talk with Matthew alone."

That stopped the preoccupation with his hand. He stared at Violet blankly. "What?"

Isobel also stepped protectively towards her son. Violet intervened there as well. "Now I know we've not been properly introduced, but you are Matthew's mother I presume. George calls you Nana Isobel."

Isobel smiled and nodded. "And you are great grandmamma Violet. It's very nice to finally meet you."

The two matriarchs stood side by side and assessed the other. "I would very much like to talk with Matthew alone, if you don't mind." Violet asked Isobel.

"Now see here…" Robert tried to say. But Cora interrupted. "Let's go see what George is up to." And she took Robert out of the room, giving Violet the go ahead and support she needed.

So did Isobel. "I'll go with you. I want to see all of George's toy trains. I've heard so much about them all." And she brushed against Matthew's arm, squeezing his good hand in a show of support and love and followed Cora and Robert out of the room.

"And I should be with Mary." Matthew said. "I need to get to London."

"No." Violet's voice was quietly commanding. "You'll do far more harm if you go in this state. Stay here and talk with me."

"Forgive me but what is there to say?" He asked exasperation creeping in. "What's happened has happened. We need to get on top of it."

"That's not what I want to talk to you about. Scandals are like plague. They come, wreak havoc and destruction, and go."

That stopped Matthew who had begun to check for his billfold. "Then what?"

"What comes after." Violet said evenly. "My interest here is not in some sordid tabloid expose. Or in your private life, which I agree is your privacy."

At that Matthew gratefully acknowledged Violet had listened to his earlier wish to keep certain things outside the family circle. Things that were his and Mary's alone.

"But…" Violet continued, "Will you be able to move on from this? Crawley women are strong. I have no doubt Mary will prevail against Tony. He's always struck me as weak. He'll fuss and possibly be aggressive towards her, you'll have to watch for that." And Matthew nodded. He was beginning to admire Violet. She was a discerning observer like he was. And one who knew the score.

"But ultimately, like all bullies, he's fundamentally a coward." Violet sniffed. "She married him on the rebound as they say these days. I never quite understood what she was trying to forget."

Violet's eyes once again fell on the handsome, troubled man before her.

"She was lonely despite having George and her family. Running away from some past indiscretion I had thought at the time." She paused and gave Matthew a hard, appraising look. "But I think I was wrong. I now believe Mary allowed herself to be vulnerable. Open to love. And when it all went south, she retreated back into herself. Into that hard shell that protects her, or so she thinks. And she found a husband who would not even try to find her heart, her soul. She could say she doesn't have one."

"That's the lie she tells herself." Matthew spoke. "She thinks it makes her weak. I've tried to tell her otherwise."

Violet nodded. "Your disappearance from her life. From George's. This was beyond your control?"

Matthew nodded and started to explain yet again. "I had a commitment to the Army…."

"I don't need to know the circumstances. Just that it was not deliberately done to hurt."

"Never." Matthew affirmed. "I would never hurt Mary." He glanced at the mobile again which he had put on mute. Mary was sending him messages but he dared not open them, not until he was alone.

"And yet that's exactly what I've seen to have done." He was inconsolable. "All I wanted was some time away with her."

"You had not left things with bad blood between you?"

"No." He shook his head. "Maybe some frustration. And miscommunication. I did tell her to move on with her life without me. But there was no blame, no culpability on her part. In Cannes we cleared the air between us."

"And you love her?" Violet had to know. For sure.

"Every day I grow to love her more. I had no idea one could love so much. So deeply." Matthew's voice hardly a whisper. "I've asked her to marry me. She said she'd think about it. So practical." He had to laugh.

"It's going to be a hard road, you two have chosen. Even once this scandal is past… and it will go away as quickly as it came… there's still her career. And your own new commitments here at Downton. Taking on the responsibility of a family as well." Violet wanted to lay it all out to Matthew, to gauge his reaction. "Can you do this? Will you be in this for the long haul? Can she rely on you?"

"I intend to be with her for the next fifty or sixty years if she'll have me." Matthew directed his eyes towards Violet's.

Violet nodded. That was exactly what she wanted to hear.

But then his voice cracked, "All of this has been terribly unfair on Mary. I never intended to bring dishonor to Downton." Matthew said. "It's a wonder I've been accepted at all I should think."

"You think us far too stuffy a lot. I mean, one way or another, everyone goes down the aisle with half the story hidden. Downton has survived worse things, and it is still standing." She walked towards Matthew and took his hand, his wounded hand into hers. "You have also survived worse things. And you and Mary are still together. It is enough for now."

Matthew made sure not to grip the older woman's fingers too tight. Her skin felt like tissue paper and he could feel the bones underneath. But she was made of steel, this one. Despite appearances he knew who ran interference in this family. With a glint of a twinkle returning to his eyes, he said, "I feel again like a callow soldier that has just passed muster with an exacting drill sergeant."

Violet gave him a measured look. "You have my dear boy." She grunted in amusement at his metaphor. "You most certainly have."

Matthew smiled and released his hand. Took out his mobile and scrolled through his messages. "Mary says she's to talk with her lawyer this evening." He scrunched his face to hide a yawn. He was exhausted suddenly. "Maybe I will take the train back to London. Just to be near her in case…." He stifled another yawn.

"Go in the morning. After a good night's sleep. You'll be no good to anyone if you can't think straight." Violet answered him. She could hear the rest of the family returning down the stairs. George was awake from his nap and already asking for more cheese and pickle sandwiches.

Robert poked his head back in to the library. "Am I allowed to return?" he said, playacting the chastised schoolboy.

"Only if you behave yourself." His mother said. And at that Violet and Matthew exchanged a look. She winked at him. "We have more important matters to deal with than your fragile sense of propriety."

Cora agreed. "Absolutely. Isobel and I have already taken him to task upstairs. We need to rally around Mary and Matthew. Not divide and conquer."

Robert rumbled acquiescence.

Isobel went to stand next to her son. Their tight knit family of two had grown exponentially in just a few hours. She was pleased. He would not have to fight this alone.

Matthew was overwhelmed with gratitude. But parental duties called as he bent down on his knees. George was running full on towards him. Matthew's arms could not squeeze him any tighter. "Hello little man. Are we ready for our walk?"

The two of them left by the side door in the waning light of the afternoon. George saying, "I just need to see the piglets again. You said I could…"

XX

Mary sighed in exasperation. Edith and Sybil had shown up at her London residence within minutes of her own arrival back home after her show. It was gone on midnight.

The day had knackered her. The trip to Manchester. The return to London. And then making an appearance at her lawyer, Laura Westlake, office. She had rung several times demanding that Mary begin explanations. She had barely an hour to get to the office, make some excuses, and get to the theater just before curtain rise. It was not how she liked it, but it could not be helped. The show was well over a year in the West End, Mary knew her lines by heart.

What she did not have were the answers Laura wanted. Or she did but did not want to disclose some. Others she did not have a sufficient answer for. Such as how did those photos ever come to be? Who took them? How did he or she know that Matthew was with her in Cannes? All of that required more investigation and discussion with Matthew. Did he see anyone? Talk to anyone? She would not be angry with him, but Mary knew that it was the only logical explanation. He must have accidentally spilled some private information about the two of them. She had not warned him adequately enough about the dangers of talking out of turn. Why should he ever think about it? When he knew her she was not fodder for any tabloid. But once she became the wife of Tony Foyle, executive and investor, she was a target. And once she made her name in the West End smash hit, it was open season on her and her family. The aristocratic connection making the tabloid bottom feeders salivate even more.

She managed to ignore most of the questioning looks and rude comments thrown her way at the theatre.. So many of them had wanted to take her down a peg or two, and this was an opportunity not to be missed. She would give not one of that lot the satisfaction of knowing they had gotten to her.

Don't ask for what you can't handle, Mary reminded herself ruefully as she finally got home and threw off her shoes and flung herself down on the cushioned sofa. She had wanted success. Fame. And here she was. A success. But at costs she had barely understood just a few short years earlier. To her reputation. To her family name. To the man she loved.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore her sisters who were insistent upon knowing all the dirty details.

"So in Cannes, Mary." Sybil had pulled out her own mobile and was scrolling through the article again. "At least you got to fuck his brains out before being discovered." The most recent updated headlined screamed The Lady's New Lover Knows All the Right Moves at least made it clear they still had no idea of Matthew's true identity. Just that she had picked someone up while in France and her husband remained in England.

Mary's eyes were slitted open. Like a cat about to pounce. "Don't be vulgar..." she intoned half-mocking.

Why wouldn't they just go away?

"You did it..." Sybil snarked back but continued. "And who wouldn't! You had just met up with him again after three years. Of course you wanted to do it all night. I think it's actually quite romantic."

Mary could only grunt in exhaustion. "I don't want to talk about it anymore tonight. You both can stay in the guest rooms but only if you shut it." Mary said wearily.

"We want to support you Mary." Edith said. "We really do." She came over and rested her head on Mary's shoulder. "I know we haven't always been the best of sisters over the years, but we rally around you know. Us Crawley's. We stick together."

Mary said finally, "And I want to stick it to them." And she fingered her own mobile again. Her memory of that picture was not to be ruined. His hands. His arms. Slipping alongside her hips and making her body shudder with desire. "And to Tony. We are separated. He's making it out like I've been conducting some kind of serial affair on him every time I went away for work. He's being ridiculous."

She threw the mobile down. "And now he's acting like Angel Claire to my Tess of the d'Urbervilles. I have made a fool of him, and he wants me to pay."

She wanted Matthew right now. She needed him right now.

"He's going to use it to his advantage in the divorce for sure." Edith was about to be admitted to the bar, already accepting a post with a prestigious legal firm in the City. "Will you relent? Or fight?"

"I am going to fight." Mary replied through gritted teeth. "He wants me to give him all rights to Foyle Productions when I own 50% and have just as much of my own sweat in that company." They had been fighting about that issue for the past month. Ever since Tony realized Mary was serious about wanting a divorce.

"Was the separation in writing? Or just an oral agreement?" Edith felt she had to ask.

Mary sighed. "Laura already informed me that I have a barely tenable situation in that regard. It was just an oral agreement between the two of us. I had not gotten around to put anything in writing."

Edith nodded slowly. "It's a hurdle. But not impossible to get around."

Mary gave each of her sister's a hug. "I really am grateful you both are here. But I want to sleep. And I need to give Matthew a ring. Can you give me some privacy?"

The sisters all parted for their respective bedrooms. Mary tried Matthew's number but there was no response. It was after 1am, and he was probably as exhausted as she. She tried to picture him putting George to bed. Kissing his head and reading a Percy story.

And then another panic set in. George. George had to be protected at all costs. Would Tony be low enough to use their son to his advantage?

She groaned and believed he would. But her mind rebelled against any other thought than sleep. Troubled as it might be.

Dawn would come soon enough.

XX

When her mobile woke her up early the next dawn, she glanced at the time 6:30am. Fumbled for it on the nightstand and through bleary eyes looked at the unfamiliar number. She hesitated before picking it up.

"Hello." Warily spoken.

"Mary." Matthew's voice making her sit up in bed. "Hello."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at home. In London. I took a really early train back. I'm using my land line as I wasn't sure about … about using my mobile." Was he just being paranoid? Could someone even trace a call from his to her numbers? Too many years in special ops in the army taught him to be cautious.

"I didn't know either whether I should be seen at your house?" He wanted to see her desperately. Needed to see her. Talk with her. Make love to her and damn the consequences.

"No. Don't come here. Besides Sybil and Edith are in the adjoining rooms." Mary was now fully awake. "I don't have a performance until tonight. I can come see you. I am afraid you will though have to meet with my lawyer later today. She wants to talk with the both of us. Tony has bought all the pictures from that photographer and won't release copies to us. Laura is demanding he do so before we do anything else."

His groans of disgust could be heard over the phone connection. "I see. Yes. But first I'll tell you my address."

And within the hour she had arrived at his small flat. A light sundress on, her hair still wet from the shower. He opened the door and she entered.

They fell into each other's arms. Her lips slipped into his. The kiss making each shudder in delight and anticipation. They exhaled, moving towards the bedroom even as the kissing lingered. Their breathing heavy. He pulled her closer. "I haven't had time to clean it up."

She glance around. Seeing his suitcases still open and half full of clothes on the bed. He had not yet bothered to launder anything or put away in the cramped wardrobe. Matthew had not been able to tell Mary that when they met outside that pub, what only a week ago now, he had just returned from a debriefing in Washington DC at the pentagon. His life had been chaotic ever since, and he had hardly been at home.

"I don't care if we make love on the floor." She said, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it onto the bed. "Come here and undress me." She raked her fingernails along his naked torso.

"Yes ma'am." He said husky with intent and getting in the spirit of things. He followed her command and her tank top fell to the floor in one flick of his wrist.

XX

I've got a massive headache at the moment. So stopping there. I had to write this chapter first (before the time travel or the canon story) as it seemed incomplete in the last chapter.

Please review!