Edith and Bertie had been enjoying themselves in London for the past several weeks. Things were going well for them and they were constantly at each other's sides most evenings. One night, as they were enjoying a late supper at the Savoy, Edith noticed her elder sister walk in.
"Mary!" she exclaimed in honest surprise.
"Oh, Edith," Mary didn't hide her annoyance well. "And Lord Hexham, how nice." Bertie stood up to acknowledge her.
"I didn't know you were coming to London," Edith said.
"It was a sort of a whim," she answered.
"How long are you here for?" Bertie asked.
"I'm not quite sure actually," Mary answered. She looked frustrated, and wasn't hiding it well. Bertie and Edith both noticed.
A waiter appeared, noticing that Mary had stopped following him. "This way, milady," he said gently.
"Would you care to join us?" Bertie gallently offered.
"No, no, please, I don't mean to interrupt. Have a lovely evening." She nodded and went to her own table.
"That was odd," Edith thought aloud as she watched her sister sit down across the room.
"Edith, don't start," Bertie advised.
"I'm not doing anything," she defended herself. "But why is she in London, and why did she come down here without telling me?"
"Edith…" Bertie warned.
"I'm sorry," she said. "But something's not right." She looked as though she wanted to go talk to Mary, but Bertie caught her hand.
"Not now," he advised. "Don't let it ruin our evening. We'll say goodbye before we leave, then you can call on her in the morning."
"Yes, perhaps you're right," she agreed. She still kept glancing over to look at her sister, but tried to take his advice. Bertie noted that she spent the rest of the evening alternatively discussing the play they'd just seen and wondering aloud about Mary's mysterious arrival. He realized she couldn't help it, and with much grace and patience, encouraged her to finish the meal quickly. With some relief on Edith's end, they approached Mary's table.
"Ah, have you enjoyed your meal?" she asked, feigning interest.
"We did, thank you," Bertie answered.
"How nice," she glanced at her own plate.
"We don't mean to interrupt, we just wanted to say goodnight," Edith said. "I take it you're staying at Rosamund's?"
"Yes I am. Goodnight, Edith. Lord Hexham." She nodded.
"Lady Mary," Bertie bowed and ushered Edith from the restaurant. Edith looked back once and noticed that Mary had already turned her complete attention back to her dinner. It bothered her that Mary was here. But she resolved to follow Bertie's advice and pay a visit on her sister in the morning... after she had some time to consider what she wanted to ask and what she wanted to say.
The next morning Mary was sitting in Rosamund's parlor, looking over the local events, trying to decide which activity in London would keep her occupied that afternoon, when Rosamund's butler announced her sister's arrival.
"Oh, Edith," she pretended to be happy, but didn't succeed very well. "How nice to see you again so soon." She clearly didn't mean it.
"Mary," Edith acknowledged.
"Would you care for some tea? I've already finished my breakfast, but –"
"No thank you," Edith interrupted. "I don't need tea or breakfast. I came to talk to you."
"So I gathered," Mary said evenly. "What is it you want?" she asked with feigned indifference.
"Mary, what in the world are you doing here?" Edith burst out with her main question.
Mary looked at her younger sister angrily. "Not that it's any of your business, but I came to enjoy the city. Go shopping, see the shows, is that not allowed in your world? I wasn't aware that you own all of London."
"I don't believe you for a minute," Edith declared, standing her ground. "Nobody decides to suddenly travel from Yorkshire to London in November to see the sights."
"It's cold in Yorkshire too," Mary pointed out.
"What are you running away from?" she accused.
"I'm not running away from anything, Edith," she snapped. "I suppose it was just plain boredom. You have relocated to London, perhaps I should too," she thought aloud. Voicing a plan that she had been mulling over for the past few days.
"Move to London?" Edith was stunned at the idea. Mary shrugged, but Edith was truly gobsmacked. She slowly sat down as she processed the information. "But – but what about George?"
"I'm sure George would love to grow up in a big city," Mary said. "His father grew up in one, afterall."
"You're really thinking of taking George away from Downton and moving here?" she couldn't believe it.
"I don't know. I haven't decided. Just one of many possibilities that I'm considering."
"Well… Mary," she shook her head, "that is the stupidist thing I've ever heard you say," she almost smiled at how ridiculous the idea was.
"I don't recall asking for your opinion, Edith."
"No, but you're going to get it. For better or worse I'm your sister and I won't let you do something so completely idiotic."
"Oh, so it's alright for you to do it, but when I think of doing it I'm idiotic? You just don't want me here on your territory, admit it."
"No," Edith shook her head. "It isn't that at all. London is certainly big enough for the two of us… it's just…" she didn't finish her thought right away. Mary waited, and Edith looked at her sister seriously. "You belong at Downton. You always have. More so than any of us."
Mary looked out the windows and didn't answer.
"What is this really about?" Edith asked. "You don't want to move to London. You don't even like London that much. What is going on?"
"None of your business, Edith."
"I think I can guess what is behind all of this," Edith said slowly. "It's not London at all. You're running away from Tom."
Mary shivered just enough at his name to confirm Edith's suspicions, but recovered quickly. "Why on earth would I run away from Tom?"
"Oh Mary," Edith sighed, "sooner or later you're going to have to admit that you're in love with him."