Mary and Matthew decided to extend their stay in London by several days for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that they were loath to return to the moral constraints of Downton, having enjoyed the pleasure of being together at Painswick House during both the day and at night. Violet and Isobel had joined Cora at the Abbey since renovations at the Dower House and Crawley House were underway, so Matthew and Mary knew they would be living under the watchful eyes of three women who would be determined to keep them in line. Although they had developed a kind of telepathic communication—raised eyebrows, gentle blushes, the brush of hands—signaling desire that needed to be sated and that could be fulfilled whenever they chose, they knew they wouldn't be able to move about so freely at Downton. Explaining the delay to the three suspicious women proved to be a challenge, but they stood their ground and assured Cora, Isobel, and Violet that an extension was necessary because of business obligations and wedding planning.
Mary was determined that Coco would be the one to design her wedding gown, but there wasn't time for her to travel to Paris since she and Matthew were due back at Downton. She called Coco and was thrilled that the designer agreed to meet with her in London. What Mary didn't know was that Coco was having a torrid affair with reputedly the richest man in Europe — Bendor, the 2nd Duke of Westminster—and had planned to rendezvous with him in London that week anyway. All Mary knew was a late-December wedding wouldn't give the designer a great deal of time to create a gown to Mary's specifications, so she was grateful for Coco's cooperation. When Coco arrived at Painswick House with her entourage and loads of trunks and boxes, Mary was astonished to find the designer had brought dress samples ready to be fitted to her. The gowns reflected the designer's simple styles that Mary adored, yet the luxurious fabrics and exquisite laces took the bride-to-be's breath away. One of Mary's favorites was one of Coco's most daring styles: a short satin gown with a long tulle train that flowed behind. As avant garde and appealing as the style was, Mary decided against it, assuming her granny and her mama might never recover from the shock of seeing her walk down the aisle in anything other than the customary long gown. Nevertheless, Mary eschewed the traditional billowing skirts and fussy details so prevalent in society weddings and chose instead a floor-length silk organza sheath that was cut on the bias and that accentuated her lissome figure. The pearl-white dress had an overlay consisting of lace tiers that were almost transparent in their delicacy. After scheduling a follow-up appointment for fittings, Coco assured Mary the gown and trousseau would be ready in plenty of time for the wedding and even promised one of her assistants would bring the gown to Downton to ensure final alterations would be made, if necessary. By the time Coco departed, Mary's entire bridal wardrobe was selected.
Mary returned to Hornsey Central Hospital after all to have her stitches removed and received a clean bill of health from the doctor, much to Matthew's relief. They thanked the staff for their excellent care and afterward went directly to Sir Stuart's office to look over the latest projections for Imperial Airways and to solicit his advice about further financial investments. Their business over, they began to talk about Matthew's confrontation with Carlisle at the May Fair.
"I must say, Matthew, I was impressed with your pugilistic expertise the other night. Your defense of Lady Mary's honor was admirable."
Matthew frowned, "Yes, well, flattening him gave me a great deal of satisfaction for many reasons although what he said about Mary made my blood boil."
"I could tell. There are a number of people who would stand in a queue to finish Sir Richard off. He's an anathema to most of the business community in London. I've never known a man to have so many enemies. It's too bad his newspaper empire wields such power."
"I just hope we've seen the last of him," added Mary quietly. "He's a part of my life I hope never to revisit." Matthew noticed Mary's still demeanor, hoping the discussion about Richard's behavior had not upset her.
"Oh, I don't think you'll have any more trouble with him," said Stuart. "His public humiliation should keep him at bay. I'm sure you noticed his competitors managed to publish photographs of his being led out of the May Fair. He'll be lucky to maintain any dignity after that kind of publicity."
In the drawing room after dinner that evening, Matthew brought up the subject of the wedding ceremony, surprised to find Mary somewhat reticent to discuss it.
"Darling, are you all right? I thought you'd want to talk about the ceremony. After all, we'll need to get everything sorted with Travis fairly soon."
"It's not that I don't want to talk about it. I just think you haven't realized we cannot be married in the church."
"What do you mean? Of course we can! Why would you say such a thing?"
"No, Matthew, we can't. You're divorced. The church's doctrine about this is very clear. Travis couldn't allow it even if he agrees to marry us. The ceremony will have to be at home or somewhere else. He might let us use the rectory, though. Of course, we always can have a civil ceremony and ask for a blessing after."
Matthew was stunned. It hadn't occurred to him that Mary would be denied a church wedding because of the dissolution of his marriage to Lavinia. She deserved all the trappings of a traditional wedding ceremony, and because of his divorced status, she might only be allowed a civil ceremony. The unfairness made him seethe. Since his proposal, he had envisioned Mary coming down the aisle to him—glowing and smiling—while he waited to make her his own. Now, that vision was shattered because of his divorce. His disappointment and guilt were profound.
Mary saw the look on his face and was quick to assure him, saying, "Matthew, it doesn't matter to me where we're married. Besides, I must admit walking down the same aisle as Lavinia did doesn't really hold much appeal to me."
"But it's not fair that you…"
"Hush, Matthew. What wouldn't be fair is if we couldn't be married at all. Believe me, the ceremony, or lack of one, isn't important." Her enticing smile immediately melted his heart. "Now, kiss me before I get cross."
After seven blissful and constructive days in London, Mary and Matthew left for Downton in his jaunty AC Six, sending Stephens and their luggage ahead on the train. For Matthew, the drive was beyond pleasurable, mainly because he could enjoy the scenery—and the company—unlike the frenzied journey he had made to London after news of the train crash had reached him. As he drove, occasionally he would glance at Mary to admire her windswept beauty—her rosy cheeks and her bright eyes capturing his attention, much to Mary's consternation.
"Matthew, you really must keep your eyes on the road. We need to arrive at Downton in one piece."
"Ah, but my darling, if you weren't so captivating, I'd be able to focus on my driving. As it is, I find it difficult to concentrate."
"Ha ha. Just pay attention to where you're going, and I'll try to keep this scarf from throttling me." The alpaca scarf's silken fringe whipped around her head as she tried in vain to keep it under control.
Matthew raised his eyebrows and leered at her. "Well, my love, I see you've found yet another use for a scarf although I must admit I prefer using one in…ahem…a rather more pleasurable way."
Mary blushed and said wryly, "You really are incorrigible, you know that." She settled back into the seat and closed her eyes, allowing memories of the previous night to envelop her.
Matthew and she had returned to Painswick House after dining with the Richardsons. After dismissing Stephens for the night, she noticed that the red silk piano shawl she'd worn that evening had fallen to the floor next to her chaise, so she picked it up intending to place it back into her closet since she had decided not to pack it for the trip to Downton. She moved her cup of hot chocolate from the tray on the chaise to the bedside table before returning the shawl to her closet.
As she held it between her outstretched arms, Matthew, newly showered and wearing his dressing gown, came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and nuzzled her neck. "I can think of a few interesting uses for such a beautiful thing."
"Oh, can you? Hmmm. I was just about to put it away…" As Matthew began to place kisses on her neck and run his hands up and down her arms, she dropped the shawl onto the chaise and turned to face him. She stood still, her eyes closed, and he undressed her slowly, kissing her exposed skin as he removed her satin nightgown. Before she knew it, they both were naked, facing each other but not touching, their bodies on fire with profound need.
His eyes stormy with passion, Matthew said, "Close your eyes again, Mary."
She obeyed, still sensing him nearby but now moving behind her. He ran one finger up her spine, causing her to shiver. "No peeking, Mary. I mean it."
She heard a drawer open as well as what she assumed to be her closet door and couldn't resist asking, "What are you doing?"
He kissed her cheek. "Never mind, love. Just stand still and keep your eyes closed." He saw her tremble slightly and noticed her breathing had become shallow. He smiled to himself, recalling how much she seemed to enjoy his mischievousness.
"All right." She had no idea what Matthew had in store for her, but a thrill ran through her as she readied herself for whatever he might have in mind.
The air in the room fairly crackled with erotic electricity.
"Do you trust me, my love?"
"Of course."
Matthew gently tied something over her eyes and around her head. A scarf perhaps? The total darkness afforded by the blindfold caused her other senses to become more acute. He smelled of soap and cologne and sex, and she could hear him breathing and moving about the room. Her heart began to race in anticipation. "Now keep your eyes closed and come with me." He took her hands and led her toward the bed where he sat her on the edge, kissed her, lifted her legs, and leaned her back into the pillows. He stood over her a moment, enthralled by her luminous body, and then kissed her again and whispered, "Don't move." Her stomach fluttered with arousal as she heard him moving once again. She had no idea what he was doing, but her instincts told her she was about to experience great pleasure at his hands, so any nervousness she had felt initially was replaced with expectancy.
She felt his proximity, his scent caused her arousal to heighten, and she could hear him shaking out some sort of fabric.
"Raise your arms above your head, Mary, and clasp your hands."
She complied and felt something silken being wrapped around her wrists. She tried to lower her arms and realized she was tethered to the headboard. She was both exhilarated and somewhat apprehensive, but she trusted him implicitly and resolved to dismiss her inhibitions. His lips brushed her wrists. She smiled despite not knowing what Matthew had planned, but she had come to enjoy his playfulness and expected to reap great rewards as a result. He kissed her lips and lightly trailed his fingers down her arms to her neck and across her collarbones. He then moved to the end of the bed, grasped her ankles, and pulled her slowly down the length of the bed, stretching her body and filling her with expectancy. Her brain was whirling, lost in the sensation of helplessness coupled with intense desire. He exhaled, "Exquisite," and then his hands traveled up the length of her body savoring the contours of her legs, her hips, her waist, and her breasts leaving a trail of heat in their wake. One hand then slipped back down between her legs and three fingers found her center and circled and pressed, causing her to jerk wantonly. "So wet. So ready," he hissed. He leaned over her and ran his tongue along her lips as she moaned in frustration, the intensity of the moment nearly unbearable.
"Matthew?" she whispered.
"Are you all right, my love?"
Her coherency almost gone, she answered, "Yes. Oh, yes."
His lips grazed her mouth. "Let me know if it's too much."
She nodded, unable to speak.
Straddling her knees, Matthew lightly ran the feather boa he had retrieved from her closet over her body from her wrists to her upper thighs, all the while watching her skin ripple from the sensation. Her nipples pebbled and her breathing increased as he continued to tease and stimulate her silken skin as the boa, his fingers, and his mouth worked in tandem. He stroked her center and felt the wetness on his hand, resisting the urge to stop the erotic play and sate their ardor. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Do you like this? Do you want to continue?"
"Mmmmmm. Please."
He kissed her, coaxing her tongue into a luscious dance, and then after dropping the boa onto the floor, he gently traced the outline of her body with a fur collar he had found in one of her drawers, the sensation causing her mouth to open and her body to ache with desire because of what she only could describe as delicious torture. As he continued to run the collar over her torso, he noticed the cup of chocolate on the side table. Using his finger, he tested the liquid to check its temperature, and finding it tepid, he stuck his finger into the cup once more. "Open your mouth, my darling. I have a treat for you." Mary opened her mouth, not knowing what to expect and was surprised to taste the chocolate Matthew had collected on his finger. She sucked his finger clean, and he repeatedly dipped it into the chocolate to let her have several more tastes. "My turn," he whispered, and once again he dipped his finger into the liquid; however, this time he drew a circle around the nipple on her left breast and licked off the chocolate, causing Mary to writhe and groan in response, her center clenching with desire. "You like that, do you?" Mary moaned and nodded. "Well, let's try this again." His tongue danced across her creamy skin, lapping the chocolate and sending Mary to the edge of lunacy. By the time he finished drawing and licking and sucking chocolate from the most sensitive parts of her body, more than half the cup was gone, and Mary was in the throes of her second release.
He untied the blindfold, kissed both of her eyelids, and moved to untie her hands.
Raising an eyebrow and smiling provocatively, she asked, "Wait…Matthew, do you suppose you could leave me this way just a little longer?"
"Forever and a day, my love."
For the next hour, she discovered just how amenable he was to her request.
As they continued down the road, Matthew looked over and saw Mary's closed eyes and enigmatic smile. "What are you thinking of, darling?" he asked.
"Oh, I'm just wondering how many scarves Coco will include in her next collection." Her eyes narrowed enticingly. "Although next time I think I'll be the one coming up with some fascinating new uses for them."
Matthew gulped and tried to keep his eyes on the road, resisting the urge to pull over and make an emergency stop next to the nearest copse.
Many thanks to Camilla 10 for her sharp eyes...