Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, April 1919
"Well, go upstairs and tell your Mama," Robert said to Sybil. "Your Granny is coming as well, so Mrs. Patmore will need to know the numbers."
"Yes, Papa," Sybil nodded.
Sybil walked briskly through the Great Hall and up the stairs. She was looking forward to seeing Mary and Matthew. She had convinced Mary to come over a little early so they could talk. Sybil needed the type of advice that only her older sister could give.
Sybil smiled to herself as she walked down the hall to her mother's bedroom. What would Mary's reaction be, Sybil wondered. Would she be cross? Intrigued? Amused? Supportive? Truly, Sybil wasn't quite decided on her situation as of yet, and she was hoping that Mary could give her some clear direction. If Mary was anything, it was remarkably decisive when it came to certain matters.
Sybil knocked lightly on Cora's bedroom door and walked inside.
"Mama, Mary and Matthew and Cousin Isobel are coming to dinner tonight. Granny too. Papa wants you to tell Mrs. Patmore to…" Sybil began, coming into the room.
Cora was lying back against the pillows, her head turned away from Sybil.
"Mama? Are you awake?" Sybil frowned. She moved closer to the bed.
Cora's skin was pale, almost a blue colour.
"Mama?" Sybil called out louder, her eyes wandering across her mother's face.
Sybil gasped and stepped backwards from the bed.
"MAMA!" she yelled, then covered her mouth as she stumbled for the door.
Cora's face and pillow were spotted with blood.
Chapter 25: Don't Keep Anything Back
Eryholme, Yorkshire, England, April 1919
Carson walked down the hall to the parlour. It was a much shorter distance from the main foyer to the parlour, or to any of the other rooms even, than at Downton Abbey. He hasn't yet decided whether he prefers it or not, but he has no time for sentiment. He's the butler of Eryholme now, or whatever Mr. Crawley and Lady Mary decide to call their home. Best to just get on with it rather than compare it to Downton Abbey at every turn.
He wonders if he isn't secretly afraid he'll prefer his new home more than the Big House, as ludicrous as that sounds. Though much smaller, Eryholme is immaculate and quite impressive, awash with the shine of newly restored and purchased furniture, newly cleaned and polished silverware, and new adventure and possibilities. Lady Mary has done a remarkable job in decorating the place, and all the modern amenities that Mr. Crawley has put in are rather impressive. Carson seems to be discovering something new each day since they moved in.
He glances up at the paintings on the wall and the crystal lamps and sconces. It's the contrast that strikes him. Every room, hallway and closet evokes the same feeling. The home itself is old, very old, and majestic in its sense of history and grandeur. And yet the place seems renewed with electricity and telephones and appliances and a youthful spirit that begins with its Lord and Lady and is reflected by the younger staff they've chosen. Carson feels excited by this place, and all that will happen here in the future. The house, and the people in it, strangely make him feel…alive.
"Sir, Lady Mary confirms that dinner will be at Downton Abbey at 8 o'clock," Carson announced. "Mrs. Crawley will be driven over from Crawley House and will meet you upon your arrival."
"Thank you, Carson," Matthew nodded, continuing to read his newspaper.
"Sir, Lady Mary requests that you meet her upstairs to review the menu plans for this week," Carson said crisply.
"Whatever for?" Matthew asked, looking up. "Surely she can handle it herself, can't she?"
"I'm certain she can, sir, but she was quite insistent that I pass along her message. She said that you were not to tarry, sir," Carson said.
Matthew smiled and rolled his eyes. He sat up from the sofa and rose to his feet. He folded the newspaper and put it down on the coffee table.
"I suppose I shall need to get used to taking orders from the Lady of the House, shan't I, Carson?" Matthew smirked.
"That would be advisable, sir," Carson nodded.
Matthew walked past the butler towards the door. He stopped short and turned around.
"Oh, Carson, I almost forgot. If you can spare the time, why don't you accompany us to Downton tonight? I can't imagine much going on here that Bates can't handle. I'm sure that the family and the servants will be pleased to see you," Matthew smiled.
Carson blinked in surprise. "That's very kind of you, sir. I don't think it's necessary."
"I insist, Carson," Matthew nodded. "Just as I must listen to Mary, you must listen to me, unless she says otherwise, of course."
"Yes, sir," Carson nodded. "Thank you, sir."
Matthew turned and left the parlour. Carson frowned, considering what had transpired. He shook his head and walked in the opposite direction, headed for the kitchens. He would need to leave very precise instructions if he was going to be away for the evening.
"Darling?" Matthew called, coming into their bedroom. He glanced about, not seeing Mary anywhere.
"I'm in here, Matthew," Mary called from her closet. "Wait for me in the bedroom, please."
Matthew frowned at the closed door between them. He shrugged his shoulders and went and sat down near the dormant fireplace and waited.
Mary came out momentarily and smiled at him. She crossed over to him and kissed him lightly.
"Hello, darling," she smiled.
"You changed your hair," Matthew said, looking at her slightly wavy tresses. "It's longer."
"I had Anna let it out a bit and curl it," Mary smiled, pleased that he had noticed. "Do you like it?" she asked, turning her head so he could see.
"You look gorgeous, Mary," Matthew grinned. "I was afraid you were going to cut it drastically shorter, like those boys' cuts from Paris that you were showing me in Vogue."
"That was in La Mode Illustrée, darling," Mary smiled. "But a very valiant effort nonetheless."
"Carson said you wanted to show me the menus for this week?"
"Yes," Mary nodded. "Anna is bringing them up now."
"You don't need my input, Mary," Matthew shook his head. "You may run this house however you wish. That's part of the reason we moved here."
"Thank you," Mary nodded. "But I wanted your opinion on one dish in particular."
Anna knocked at the door and came inside carrying a covered silver tray. She placed it on the table between them.
"Thank you, Anna," Mary nodded.
Anna curtsied and left, closing the bedroom door behind her.
"What's this?" Matthew asked, looking at the tray.
"A sample for you to try," Mary smiled. "Go on and see."
Matthew looked at her in confusion, then reached over and lifted the cover. He frowned, perplexed at the small bowl revealed beneath.
"Chocolate sauce?" Matthew asked. "Is this something that we're having with dessert?"
"You could say that," Mary smiled mysteriously.
Before he could reply, she sat down on his lap. His hand went across her waist and took hold of her hip to steady her, his other arm going across her front.
"I asked Daisy to make this," Mary smirked, reaching over and dipping a small spoon into the bowl. "I've had a craving for chocolate all day, you know."
She brought the spoon to her lips and savoured the sweet treat. Matthew stared at her, transfixed as she hummed with delight.
"How decadent!" Mary exclaimed. "Darling, you must try it."
She picked up another spoon and used it to feed Matthew the chocolate sauce. He kept his eyes on her smiling face as he tasted.
"That's…that's quite good," Matthew stammered, catching his breath slightly as his wife shifted in his lap. "Is that enough to satisfy your craving, then?"
"Not even close, Matthew," Mary smiled. She leaned down and kissed him, her tongue sliding past his lips. He blinked in surprise, then groaned into her mouth as he tasted her and a hint of chocolate as they kissed.
"It seems I've been thinking of all sorts of sweet delights today," Mary smiled, kissing his cheek. Her fingers deftly undid his tie and several of his shirt buttons before he had even recovered from their initial kiss.
"Mary!" Matthew gasped, rubbing his hands across her sides and back as she kissed his neck and pulled his shirt free of his pants. "Now?"
"Yes, now," Mary laughed. "You're my next craving, darling. Is there something the matter?"
"It's just that it's barely past luncheon," Matthew said quickly, holding her closer.
"You weren't bothered by the time of day when you took me in the guest bedroom yesterday," Mary said, unbuttoning his shirt with several flicks of her fingers. She leaned down and kissed his throat, then his chest. "Or the second guest bedroom the day before, or the third guest bedroom the day before that…"
He closed his eyes and sighed as her lips came back up to his shoulder and her hands massaged his chest and stomach. His hand reached down and cupped her bottom, pulling her closer to him.
"We have hours to go yet before we need to change and leave for Downton," Mary drawled huskily. "And I believe the best use of my time would be to make love to the Lord of the Manor. Any objections?"
"None at all," Matthew gasped. "I suppose I should feel honoured to be thought of down the list after chocolate."
Mary laughed against his skin. She nipped at his earlobe as her hands moved down to his belt.
"Oh, rest assured, darling," she growled. "I'm not done with the chocolate yet."
Matthew's eyes shot open as she rose up from his lap. She picked up the bowl of chocolate sauce and a spoon and walked over to their bed. Matthew looked up from his chair, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging out, and his belt undone.
"Coming to bed, Matthew?" Mary asked, looking wickedly at him over her shoulder as she set the bowl of chocolate sauce down on the nightstand.
Matthew rose from the chair and walked briskly after her. He removed his suit jacket, shirt and belt as he moved and took hold of her hips from behind. Mary smiled and closed her eyes as he kissed her neck, unbuttoning her dress with desperate movements.
"This could become rather...messy," Matthew said, kissing any exposed skin he could reach as he pulled the dress down her arms and let it fall to the floor.
"Anna is very discrete," Mary whispered, turning in his arms and taking hold of his face, kissing him hungrily.
"I suppose after coming with us to America, nothing we do could shock her now," Matthew said quickly, picking Mary up and setting both of them down on the bed. Her hands undid his pants as he tugged her chemise up her body.
Matthew groaned aloud as she reached past his underpants and took hold of him. He stripped off the rest of his clothes as she stroked him, his eyes closing tightly as she fanned his arousal with a knowing touch.
"Oh God," Matthew grunted.
"Quiet, darling," Mary smirked. "It is still the middle of the day, you know."
"No one else is upstairs," Matthew hissed quickly. "And…and I told you before that I made sure the walls were…insulated to minimize the…the sound."
"Such a clever boy, you are," Mary said devilishly, kissing him and speeding up her movements.
"I love it when you're so demanding," Matthew said raggedly, lowering his head to her shoulder and kissing her skin as his hips met the rhythm of her hand.
"Good," Mary smiled, cradling the back of his head with her other hand. "Get used to me having my way with you, Matthew. I'm told that a woman's cravings can increase during pregnancy, and I have every intention of testing that for myself."
"Mary," he sighed, holding himself above her, his hands fisting into the bedsheets. He shut his eyes tight, trying to control himself as her hand gave him no respite.
"I'm carrying your child, Matthew," she whispered in his ear, licking his cheek.
He groaned. The very thought, that Mary was his, his wife, his lover, always made him ridiculously smug. But now, ever since she'd returned from Clarkson's office last week with the news, it was as though he was living a dream. When he was in the trenches, facing death by the minute, the idea he could have this life, have a family of his own with Mary, seemed an unreachable fantasy. That this life was now his, was now theirs, drove him mad with joy.
And Mary knew it. She knew how to touch something primal within him at the mention of the baby. She found a fierce desire within him that he didn't even know existed. Quite simply, he loved the idea that he was the one who had gotten her pregnant.
He cried out as Mary pushed him on to his back. His legs fell open, his chest rising and falling with his panting breaths, his eyes wide and staring at Mary with confusion, anger and hunger.
"Lie still," she said huskily, her eyes freezing him in place. "And you shall be rewarded, darling."
His mouth fell open as she held the spoon above his chest, the long slow trail of chocolate falling across him in jagged lines. She leered at him as she painted his body with it, moving leisurely over his stomach, then back up to his neck. She leaned down and kissed his navel, sliding her warm tongue along the streaks of chocolate, the throaty satisfied hum she made and the sight of her literally feasting on him made him swallow and gasp.
"Delicious," she said, licking her lips and arching her eyebrow at him. She dipped the spoon into the bowl again, then moved further down past his waist.
"I may not have enough chocolate for this next delicacy, Matthew," she whispered, the look she gave him almost made him come undone.
She poured the chocolate slowly and deliberately, licking her lips in anticipation of what was to come.
He could only groan in reply.
Downton Abbey, England, April 1919
"Papa! Edith!" Sybil yelled out, running down the upstairs hall to the gallery.
"Sybil! What in the blazes? Why are you shouting?" Robert demanded, running into the Great Hall with Edith behind him.
"It's Mama!" Sybil called down. "She's sick! Call Dr. Clarkson and tell him to come right away!"
"Sick?" Robert frowned. "Sick with what?"
"The flu, Papa," Sybil said quickly. "The horrible flu that's been killing people across the Continent. You have to warn Dr. Clarkson and keep everyone in their rooms for now. No one must leave or it might spread!"
At the sound of the commotion, Mrs. Hughes, Barrow and the new butler, Mr. Dunfield, came into the Great Hall. Robert gave out the orders, telling O'Brien to assist Sybil in retrieving some of the supplies left over from the convalescent hospital. Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Dunfield were charged with explaining the situation to the servants and ensuring no one left the house.
"Edith, go call for Clarkson. I suspect we'll need more than just him to come, but I'm afraid of asking anyone else. I don't want to risk others getting exposed if it truly is that dreadful virus," Robert said grimly.
"But Mama's been to the Village and to Ripon in the past few days," Edith said. "She had tea with Granny and Cousin Isobel at Crawley House yesterday."
"Good God, Isobel! And Mary and Matthew!" Robert exclaimed. "We need to stop them from coming up for dinner. Call Clarkson first, then Mary and Isobel. They'll want to come, I'm sure, but tell them that I forbid it. It's too dangerous."
"Yes, Papa," Edith nodded, and they each left in different directions, Robert to go to Cora, and Edith to make her telephone calls. She had no idea what she would say to Mary.
Eryholme, Yorkshire, England, April 1919
Matthew licked some remnants of chocolate from his wife's cleavage, fondling her breasts as he went. Mary sighed in contentment, laying back and massaging his neck.
"You had a decided advantage," he said, kissing her skin. "You had yet to remove your drawers and stockings."
"Which you rectified," Mary smiled, her eyes closed.
"After…" Matthew said.
"Mmm, yes, after…" Mary chuckled.
"I won't ever be able to look or even think of chocolate without being reminded of what we've done, you know?" Matthew smiled.
"Neither will I," Mary laughed, opening her eyes and gasping suddenly as he caressed her nipple with his mouth. "Perhaps we should try honey next?"
Matthew looked up at her and blushed fiercely. "That could be rather…sticky…for me."
"Oh don't worry, darling," Mary grinned at him. "I'll make sure you're cleaned thoroughly."
Matthew laughed and lay back on the bed. He pulled her towards him, kissing her softly. She settled against his chest, running her fingers across his stomach.
"Did you enjoy that?" she asked.
"Surely, you don't have to ask!" Matthew laughed. "God, I love you, Mary. Was it all right? It didn't…hurt, did it?"
Mary shook her head, burrowing her face in his shoulder.
"The exact opposite," she chuckled. "And don't worry. I have it on sound authority that sex during pregnancy is entirely permitted, and may even be more…fun."
Matthew laughed. "I should like to have seen Clarkson's face when you raised the subject."
"I didn't ask him," Mary said, hiding her face as a blush crept across her cheeks.
"Oh. Just talking to your friends about women's stuff, were you?" Matthew said casually.
"No," Mary whispered.
Matthew's eyes opened wide in alarm and he turned to look at her mischievous expression.
"Oh God, no," Matthew groaned, the blood draining from his face.
"Well, she is a nurse and a mother," Mary explained, her face reddening further. "And I haven't had time to speak to Mama yet."
"You asked mother…" Matthew moaned, clapping his hand across his face in mortification.
"She was working at the hospital when I went to see Clarkson," Mary said, slapping his chest lightly. "Anyway, I've sworn her to secrecy. She won't say a word until we've made the announcement at dinner this evening."
"She'll think that I'm demanding sex from you at all hours," Matthew complained.
"And she wouldn't be entirely wrong, would she?" Mary smirked. "Shall I remind you that the alternative would have been for us to assume there may be…problems…and I would have forbid you from touching me for the next nine months?"
Matthew weighed her words, then turned and kissed her forehead lightly.
"I should be thankful that you sought out proper medical advice then," he smiled.
"Insatiable man," Mary rolled her eyes, kissing him softly. "Is that all you can think about?"
"Not at all," Matthew said easily. "I'll have you know that my intentions have been entirely honourable and selfless."
"Selfless?" Mary laughed. "How so? You've received just as much pleasure as I have from our recent activities."
"Well, not exactly as much," Matthew smiled. "If you measure by number of times that each of us has…"
"Don't be vulgar," Mary rolled her eyes.
"Hear me out, darling. First, when we were on honeymoon in America, I made love to you to maintain our happy marriage. Second, when we returned to Downton, I made love to you to help conceive our child."
"And now that we've moved here and you've insisted on having me day and night since we arrived?" Mary raised her eyebrow at him.
"I seem to recall it wasn't me who insisted every time," Matthew said pointedly. "But that aside, we've been testing the different rooms in the house to ensure that the furniture is sturdy. I'm only thinking of the comfort of you and our future guests, Mary."
Mary laughed and slapped his stomach. She leaned up and kissed him. "How devoted you are, Matthew."
He kissed her back and smiled cheekily at her.
"Also," he said, turning serious. "I am convinced that we should have been married back in 1914. We have years of lost time to make up for, and I intend to spend every moment showing you just how happy I am that we are finally together."
Mary smiled contentedly.
"Me too, darling," she said, kissing him softly before settling back against his chest. "Me too."
"I think I need a shower and a good scrub," Matthew smirked.
"Are you saying I didn't get all of the chocolate?" Mary asked.
"You were very diligent, darling, but there's bound to be leftovers," Matthew grinned, closing his eyes.
"Well we can't have that," Mary said.
His eyes snapped open as she kissed his chest. He groaned as her hand moved down his body and took hold of him.
"Mary," he moaned. "Surely not again so soon?"
"It seems to me you're quite ready," Mary laughed, kissing his thigh. "And I think I see some chocolate that I missed."
An urgent knock surprised both of them.
"Milady! Sir! I'm so sorry, but Lady Edith just called on the telephone," Anna said from behind the closed door. "She said it's very urgent."
Matthew and Mary frowned at each other. They got out of bed and quickly put on some clothes, as well as their robes and slippers.
"Thank you, Anna," Mary called out. "We'll call her back right away from the sitting room."
"Yes, Milady," Anna said and left.
"What could be so urgent, I wonder?" Matthew asked.
"It's Edith. I'm sure it can't be a matter of great importance," Mary rolled her eyes.
"Important enough for you to stop what we were doing," Matthew grumbled.
"The sooner I call her back, the sooner we can resume what we were doing," Mary teased, slapping his hand away from her bottom as they left their bedroom.
They both came out into the hall and walked over to the upstairs sitting room. Matthew had installed a telephone for the upstairs so they wouldn't have to go all the way down to the library to place or receive a call. As he watched Mary pick up the phone and ask to be connected to Downton, he was quite thankful for his foresight. They were hardly presentable standing in their robes, slippers and very little else.
"Edith?" Mary asked as her sister answered the phone. "What is it? What's so urgent?"
"Oh, Mary!" Edith shrieked. "Thank God I reached you in time. I have horrible news. It's Mama."
Downton Abbey, England, April 1919
"I can't let you do this," Robert shook his head, blocking the stairway.
"Cousin Robert," Isobel sighed. "I've seen Cora each of the past three days. If what she is suffering from is contagious, I could already be infected. Now, as much as I appreciate your gallant gesture, please step aside so that I can go and see if I can help."
Robert smiled wanly and thanked her. She gave him several facemasks and instructed him to pass them out before putting on her own. She walked upstairs quickly and went into Cora's room.
The Countess of Grantham was propped up in bed by several pillows. Her face was pale, her eyes vacant. She was breathing heavily, a pained wheeze coming from her throat. Dr. Clarkson and Sybil, both wearing facemasks, were gathered around her. Sybil was pressing a cold washcloth to her mother's forehead, while Dr. Clarkson was listening to Cora breathe through his stethoscope.
Cora leaned forward suddenly and coughed several times. Sybil held her, then eased her back on to the pillows when she finished.
"Has it reached her lungs?" Isobel asked.
Dr. Clarkson shook his head, standing up from the bed.
"I don't think Her Ladyship has developed pneumonia…yet," Clarkson said. "She may be through the worst of it already, it's impossible to know for certain. Keep giving her water, soup if she can stomach it. She can't leave this room, and should try and sleep as much as possible. Nurse Crawley, everyone in the house must clean their hands thoroughly and often. We'll send over another batch of masks. Try and keep everyone here for at least another day or two. We should know more by then."
Sybil nodded. She removed one of the pillows from behind Cora and helped her lie back.
"Sleep, Mama," Sybil said tightly, her eyes watering. "You need to get your strength back."
Cora looked blankly at her daughter and nodded slightly.
Isobel came over to the bed and touched Sybil's shoulder. "Why don't you see Dr. Clarkson out and speak with your Papa and Edith," Isobel said kindly. "I'll stay with Cousin Cora for a while."
Sybil nodded gratefully and rose from the bed. She squeezed her mother's hand before leaving the bedroom with Dr. Clarkson.
Cora wheezed, looking at Isobel.
"Don't speak," Isobel said. "You're not going anywhere. You have a great deal to live for and you're certainly not leaving me alone with Cousin Violet."
Cora let out a choked sigh, her mouth curling in a loose smile. She closed her eyes and settled back against the pillows.
Isobel leaned closer and squeezed Cora's hand.
"We're going to be grandmothers, cousin," Isobel said, a tear coming to her eye. "Mary's pregnant."
Cora's eyes remained closed.
Eryholme, Yorkshire, England, April 1919
"Let me go!" Mary snarled, seizing Matthew's hands and trying to pry them from around her waist. "Matthew!" she screamed.
"Darling, please, please," Matthew whispered against her hair. "We can't. I'm so sorry, but we can't."
"Unhand me now!" Mary shouted. "Mama is sick, Matthew! I need to go to her! I need to help!"
She struggled against his hold, tears falling from her cheeks. When Edith told her the news, she'd almost dropped the phone. Matthew had taken it from her and spoken with Edith, and everything since then seemed to have happened to someone else, as though Mary was watching a horrible play instead of living it herself.
She had marched back to their bedroom. She pulled the cord so hard for Anna that she thought she might have broken it. She went into her closet and pulled out clothes at random, flinging them on the bed. She moved around the room in circles, going to her vanity, then the bathroom, then back to her closet, never quite sure what she was doing. She hadn't heard Matthew telling her that they couldn't go to Downton and that it was too dangerous, that one of them might catch the flu. Nothing seemed real until he wrapped his arms around her from behind and held her tight to his chest, refusing to let her go.
"Mother is with her," Matthew said. "And Clarkson, and Sybil. They'll call the moment there's news, Mary. We have to wait. I'm sorry, but we have to wait."
Mary roared and shoved back against him. Matthew reluctantly released his grip. She stepped away and turned on him.
"How dare you keep me here!" she said furiously. "She needs me, Matthew! How can you be so cruel?"
"One hour," Matthew said, holding up his hands. "Give them an hour before you do anything. Darling, please. I want to go too, but I can't risk you being exposed. Please. If you won't be careful for me, then at least consider being careful for the baby."
Mary's eyes widened and she looked away. She took a deep breath then scowled at him again.
"One hour, that's it," she said coldly. "If anything happens to Mama and I'm not there, Matthew, I'll never forgive you. Never."
Anna knocked lightly on the open door and they both turned and glared at her.
"You rang, Milady?" Anna said quietly.
"Lady Mary needs to change immediately," Matthew said. "Something light. When she's done, come downstairs, Anna. I'll need to speak to everyone."
"Yes, sir," Anna nodded as Matthew walked past her and left the bedroom.
Matthew closed the door behind him, then leaned against the doorframe. He closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his forehead. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. Finally opening his eyes again, he walked briskly and purposefully downstairs.
"Sir?" Carson asked as he came into the parlour.
"Gather the servants, Carson," Matthew said firmly. "There's news from Downton that you all need to know about."
Matthew walked carefully into the library. Mary sat at the desk, her back to him.
"You spoke to Sybil?" he asked.
"You know that I did, so did you," she replied, not turning around.
"And you see that she agrees with me," Matthew said, approaching her.
"She thinks that we should stay away from the house, yes," Mary said crisply.
"But you aren't convinced," Matthew sighed.
She finally turned and glared at him.
"No, Matthew. I'm not convinced that I should stay here and do nothing while my mother suffers, and while my sisters and my father, and your mother put themselves at risk for her sake, for everyone's sake," Mary said bitterly.
"Darling, it's not that simple," Matthew began.
"I know what you're going to say," Mary interrupted him, rising from the desk and walking away from him. "And before you ask me if I am scared for our child, the answer is yes. I'm terrified. I'm not such a horrible woman as to not care about the life growing inside of me."
"I never said that you were a horrible woman," Matthew rolled his eyes.
"Do you know what they told me when you came back injured from the Front?" she said, rounding on him. "They told me to stay away. They said it would be too difficult, too gruesome, too dangerous for me to be there. They didn't want me to see you, to see you bloodied and broken. They wanted to protect me from that horror."
Matthew looked away from her hard stare.
"And I went," she said harshly, stepping towards him. "I went to your side because the man I loved needed me. Do you remember what happened when they brought you in, Matthew? Do you remember what state you were in? Do you remember what you did?"
Matthew slowly looked back at her fierce eyes.
"I cried out for you," he mumbled.
"You cried out for me," Mary repeated, pausing after each word to give them even more weight. "You were writhing in pain and they were trying to reset your shoulder and you were sweating and screaming and it was ghastly, and you cried out for me, and I was there. I was there to hear you because I went to your side despite what everyone was telling me. I was there when you called and I gave you my hand and I answered you."
"I heard you," Matthew said quietly.
"You heard me," Mary said. "You needed me, and I was there for you, regardless of what anyone else said. Clarkson tried to send me home and I stayed. I lied in bed with you all through the night, in full view of everyone. We weren't even married yet!"
Matthew took a deep breath.
"My mother needs me, Matthew. She needs me, if only to hear my voice and see my face one last time before she…" Mary stopped, swallowing with great effort. She finally continued, her voice steel. "She needs me, and you won't let me go to her."
Mary turned and stormed from the library.
"All right," Matthew said as she reached the door. She stopped in her tracks.
"All right, we'll go together," Matthew said, turning and moving slowly towards her. "No servants, just us. I'll drive. I don't know whether we'll be able to come back here or whether we'll have to stay there with everyone else. But we'll go."
She turned slowly and looked at him. Tears streamed down her face.
"Do you mean it?" she whispered.
Matthew frowned and exhaled a long breath.
"This still sounds incredibly foolish and ridiculous to me," he said. "But you're my wife and I'm supposed to support you, not keep you locked up. And I'm not entirely convinced you wouldn't just leave in the middle of the night anyway while I'm asleep, so at least if I go with you now then I'll be able to keep an eye on you."
Mary reached for him and pulled him into a long kiss, her hands clutching his face, pressing her body against his. His hands found her waist, holding her tightly. When they came apart, she sobbed, laughing and crying at the same time.
"I would have obeyed you, you know," she whispered. "I would have hated it, but I wouldn't have gone against you."
"Thank you for saying that," he smiled, raising his eyebrow to her. "But we both know who wields the power in this marriage."
She kissed him again, then hugged him fiercely.
"Carson," he called, as the butler came in. Mary stepped away wiping her eyes.
"Sir?" the butler asked with concern, looking at Mary.
"Have Anna prepare a valise for Lady Mary at once and have the motor brought around. We're going to Downton, alone," Matthew ordered.
Downton Abbey, England, April 1919
Sybil washed her hands, wringing her fingers over and over again under the hot water. She grit her teeth, biting back the tears that were building up inside of her since that morning. She kept herself busy, collecting supplies from the old convalescent hospital rooms, organizing the servants so that Clarkson and Papa could speak to them, and maintaining a vigil at her mother's bedside. Now, with the dinner hour having passed and Isobel upstairs with Mama, Sybil had a moment of pause, and her emotions threatened to finally surface.
A hand reached over and turned the tap off. Sybil jumped in surprise at the touch to her shoulder. Her hands were red. A towel was placed over them and delicate fingers helped dry her skin.
"You'll scrub them raw if you don't snap out of it," Edith said kindly.
Sybil turned and buried her face in her sister's shoulder.
"God, Edith," she said, embracing her closely. "Is this really happening? Mama?"
"Shh, Sybil," Edith said, running her hand along her younger sister's back. "You've done all you can. We all have. We just need to wait now."
Sybil stepped back and wiped her eyes. She nodded bravely.
"I know. I know. It was so much easier when it was the soldiers we were taking care of. Even when Cousin Matthew was laid up, it was easy to focus on being professional, but with Mama…" Sybil choked out.
"It's Mama," Edith said simply. She guided Sybil out of the bathroom and back towards the Great Hall.
"I know you won't sleep. We can stay up in my room. If anything happens, we'll be close by and they can fetch us," Edith suggested.
Sybil nodded, leaning against her sister as they made their way to the stairs.
"My Lady," James called, peering out the windows of the door. "There's a motor coming up the drive."
Edith frowned. "Who could that be at this hour? We already sent word that no one was to come up to the house."
Sybil followed Edith to the door. They stared out as the headlamps of the approaching car grew larger and brighter.
"What are you looking at?" Robert asked, coming downstairs.
"Someone's coming, Papa," Sybil said, looking back at him. "There's a motor outside."
"James, go out and turn them away," Robert declared. "Whoever it is, they aren't to set foot in this house."
"Yes, my Lord," James said, opening the door.
Robert, Edith and Sybil stood at the door, watching as the footman went out into the driveway and waved his arms at the approaching car. It pulled up in front of the house, and they could barely make out shapes and forms as James tried to speak to them.
The headlamps of the car shut off as the car was powered down.
"I told him to send them away," Robert frowned, stepping in front of his daughters and opening the inside door, preparing to send whoever these intruders were back from where they came.
James reappeared, holding the outside door open.
Sybil and Edith gasped.
Robert's mouth fell open.
Mary came running in. Robert hugged her before he could stop himself.
"Mary?" Sybil exclaimed in shock. She stepped forward and Mary pulled away from her Papa and hugged her sisters.
"I'm here," Mary said quietly.
Matthew came in after her and James followed carrying their luggage. The footman closed and locked the doors behind them.
"What are you doing here?" Robert frowned at Matthew as Mary and her sisters headed for the stairs. "I had Edith and Sybil tell you to stay away."
Matthew looked at his wife hurrying up the stairs with her sisters, the three of them speaking quickly to each other. He turned back to Robert.
"We Crawleys stick together," Matthew said firmly.