A/N: First, I want to say a big thank-you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Once again, I didn't get a chance to reply personally to reviews, but I am truly grateful for each and every one. As always, thanks to Willa Dedalus for her input, especially with my characterization of Isabel and Robert in this chapter. :)
Chapter 28
Both Mary and Matthew remained mostly silent at breakfast the next morning. Matthew was frustrated with himself for, once again, allowing doubt to creep into his mind and sully the precious joy of his union with Mary. He was determined to revisit the topic of a back specialist with her at some point that day, though he was filled with trepidation at the very thought of allowing himself, or Mary, any hope at all. If it were only his own spirits at stake, he wouldn't think so much of it, but Mary's hopes were set to be dashed as well if things didn't (and he was almost certain that they wouldn't) go as they would wish. Already, he was dragging her down with him, and his heart ached with remorse at the thought.
He took her hand under the table, as he so often did, and gave it a gentle squeeze. She rewarded him with a small smile and returned the pressure, feeling her own spirits rise at the contact.
Mary Crawley didn't often second-guess herself. She wasn't much prone to self-doubt. But, after the bathtub incident the previous evening, she wasn't entirely sure she knew what to do to relieve Matthew of his insecurities. She was fairly certain that he was embarrassed about his body and...that it no longer functioned as it should. Only that morning, he had asked her to have Bates assist with his more intimate needs, waiting for her to leave the room before he would disrobe. He had never done so before. Since the morning she had first bathed him in the hospital, he had never seemed shy or embarrassed, accepting her assistance with the quiet dignity she had always admired in him. But now...
How was she to go about showing him that his perceived deficiencies really didn't matter to her at all? She'd thought that was what she was doing the previous evening, but that hadn't worked. He liked when she responded to his touch; she could easily see that. But, how was she to tell him that, in her eyes, he wasn't broken or less of a man? that every part of him was beautiful to her? She had never been a very articulate person to begin with, and she had to be so careful what she said to Matthew. Now, more than ever, she feared any mention of her feelings would set him off. Only two days after their wedding, he was already withdrawing from her. She wouldn't - couldn't - do anything that might make him wish to withdraw further.
He was her husband and could no longer send her away from him; that was true. But the beautiful, yet fragile, intimacy they had forged as a married couple was too precious to risk. She resolved that, until Matthew had healed enough to accept himself for how he was now, his lower half would be strictly off limits to her touch. Neither could she speak of her feelings, not yet. If he couldn't handle her naked body pressed against his, how could he bear to know all that was inside her heart? If she told him of her love, would he even believe her? She couldn't bear to have the precious moment when she gave voice, for the first time in her adult life, to her deepest and most personal feelings tainted by doubt and disbelief. And she would be utterly destroyed if her sentiments weren't returned.
Mary had been tremendously relieved when her father offered to go over some estate matters with them both just after breakfast. Matthew had immediately brightened at the prospect of being useful, as he always did, and she was eager to take this step into their new lives together. They spent the morning productively pouring over ledger books and discussing tenant and harvest issues with Robert. The loss of so many young men to the war made for a shortage of farm labor, which impacted all those he was responsible for. Matthew felt the full weight of what it meant to be heir to Downton for, perhaps, the first time, and he was quietly glad that he would always have Mary by his side. He couldn't imagine ever shouldering so much weighty responsibility alone. They would help each other. They were partners. That was what their relationship was always meant to be, and he felt relieved to have things put back into perspective.
Around midday, Robert suggested they spend some time out of doors. There wouldn't be many warm, dry days left, and it would be a shame to waste any of them. Both Mary and Matthew agreed heartily, and, after collecting Robert's retriever, Isis, the four of them made their way out the front door. A smiling Isobel joined them just as they exited, wishing to see for herself how the newlyweds fared.
And, in truth, she needed some occupation. Lady Grantham had done all she could to push her out again, and she was beginning to wonder why she had come at all. Her son was an excellent reason, though she wasn't so daft as to think that he needed her. Mary was a wonderful companion for him, and, now, a devoted wife. Matthew had left his mother and would now cleave to his wife, as he should. Still, Isobel had cared for him and loved him for his whole life. Letting go - feeling useless - wasn't easy, but she knew she had to accept it. His future was with Mary, and it was better that way. That certainly didn't mean that she wouldn't keep an eye on them from time to time, ensuring, for her own peace of hind, that they were happy and contented in their new life together.
The group walked, Mary pushing Matthew's chair, for several minutes in light conversation, speaking only of the beauty of the autumn day and other inconsequential matters until they were well out of hearing range of the officers who congregated in several groups on the lawn. Robert discovered a stray cricket ball in the bushes, and tossed it for Isis to retrieve. To everyone's surprise, she brought it back to Matthew instead of her master, and this began a merry game of fetch that soon had all four laughing and cheering for Isis each time Matthew threw the ball further.
Mary, Isobel, and Robert were, all three, thrilled to see Matthew smiling and laughing so genuinely as he interacted with Isis. No one was more relieved than Mary to see his mood thus lifted. Being disabled had taught Matthew to take pleasure in such small things. Isis' approval and failure to notice that he couldn't stand seemed to please him very much, as well as the fact that he could do something that made her happy in throwing the ball for her. Mary took this lesson to heart, reminding herself that things between them needn't always be so complex - that she could relax and allow them to enjoy simply being together.
Noticing Mary's pensive look, Isobel suggested that they walk on together.
"So, how is married life treating the two of you so far?" she asked when they were a small distance from the distracted men.
"Wonderfully," Mary answered with her usual too-bright smile, but Isobel could still detect a hint of doubt behind her new daughter's cheerful tone.
"Are you certain?" she asked directly, startling Mary with her unexpected candor.
Mary felt her facade slip a little more.
"Of course, I'm certain. I can't think what you mean."
"Mary, dear," Isobel spoke, taking Mary's elbow in her hand to stop their progress as the conversation turned serious, "I can clearly see that something is troubling you. Come on, then. Out with it."
Seeing Mary's hesitation, she added, "allow an old woman the pleasure of serving as confidant to the only daughter she'll ever have."
With a groan, Mary surrendered, feeling tears pool in her eyes as she voiced her worries.
"I'm afraid that I can't make Matthew happy."
Her voice wavered on the last words, and she was forced to fight for her composure.
Isobel tried not to let her surprise show on her face. That certainly wasn't what she would have expected Mary to say.
"You mustn't worry," Isobel encouraged. "I firmly believe that, if anybody can make Matthew happy, it's you, dear."
"But what if I can't?" Mary responded pitifully, her strong facade all but crumbled. "What if I can never make him believe that I'm happy? What if he never accepts my feelings for him?"
At Isobel's gentle, but insistent, prodding, Mary offered a brief overview of her reasons for feeling thus, excepting the more intimate details. The older woman listened patiently, feeling a small surge of satisfaction and pride that her son could still inspire such strong feelings in his young wife. She had raised a fine man; of that she had no doubt.
Isobel waited until Mary had finished before speaking.
"Mary, I'm going to give you one word I want you to remember in all your dealings with Matthew, and that is 'consistency.'"
She looked over at Mary to confirm the younger woman's understanding, and was answered with a prim nod.
"Let me explain," she began after a moment's pause. "Matthew was always an affectionate child, wishing to be constantly petted and cuddled. Reginald and I gladly indulged him. After all, he was our only child. And he was such a sweet boy. He still is."
At this, Mary nodded emphatically, agreeing whole-heartedly with Isobel's statement. She remembered how sweet and affectionate Matthew had been on their wedding night and on the previous day, and she smiled.
"Even as a grown man, Matthew always came to me for a kiss before he left for work in the morning, a kiss when he returned home, and yet another kiss before bedtime."
Isobel was smiling fondly as she spoke, lost in her memories.
"He almost operated on a schedule. I could predict down to the minute when he would require another kiss or a pat on the hand. But that, in no way, meant that his need for affection was born of duty or obligation. Matthew requires consistent affection and attention...to know for certain that he is always loved and valued by those he cares for. Do you take my meaning?"
"I believe so," Mary answered, finding herself hanging on her mother-in-law's every word. Anything that might help her overcome her recent uncertainty would be a godsend.
"No matter how he withdraws," Isobel began again, "you, my dear, must remain constant in your displays of affection. You may not feel ready to express your love verbally at this time, and I agree with you that Matthew may not be ready to hear it, but if you consistently show him your love...I promise you, he'll feel it. The rest will come with time."
"Thank you, Isobel," Mary spoke sincerely, feeling blessedly encouraged. "I assure you, I'll take your words to heart. I'd do anything...anything at all...to make Matthew happy."
"I know you would, my dear," Isobel responded, looping her arm through Mary's and steering them back in the direction of the men. "Now, if Matthew has never minded being kissed by his mother in public, how much more do you think he'd enjoy the same from his wife?"
Matthew smilingly praised Isis for her efforts, and rewarded her by vigorously scratching her ears. He chuckled softly as she flounced over to Robert next, seeking her master's approval.
"Well, my boy, how are things going so far?" Robert asked a moment later as he stooped to give Isis a good pat.
As Robert's eyes were determinately fixed on his very pleased dog, he didn't see Matthew's smile fade into a pensive gaze as he looked out over the peaceful grounds.
"Things are..." he paused to find the right words, berating himself, yet again, for being an ungrateful, sentimental fool. "Things are going...as well as can be expected, I suppose."
Seeing his father-in-law's concerned expression, Matthew quickly added, "Mary is a delight. I couldn't ask for a better wife, under any circumstances."
Relieved that Matthew had released him from any obligation to question the progress of their new marriage further, Robert simply expressed his approval and turned his attention back to Isis.
After a moment's silence, Matthew began again.
"Actually, Robert, there is something I'd like you to help me arrange."
"Oh?" Robert asked, returning his attention to his new son-in-law. "You know you can ask me for anything, my dear boy. What is it?"
"Thank you," Matthew responded, taking a deep breath before beginning again. "It's just that...several weeks ago, Mary mentioned to me that I might consider seeing a doctor who specializes in spinal injuries. Not that I have any reason to believe that there's hope, but...I just feel like I should try everything possible...for her sake."
"An excellent idea," Robert enthused, moving to stand directly beside Matthew. "I don't know why I never thought of it myself. I'll speak with Clarkson first thing tomorrow about locating someone and scheduling the appointment."
"Thank you so much, Robert. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
"If it can be arranged, I'll have the specialist come here for the examination...to spare you the unpleasantness of travel."
"That would be preferable. I cannot thank you enough, Robert."
"Matthew, my son, you really must stop thanking me!" Robert responded feelingly, placing a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "You know I'd do anything to secure your happiness...and Mary's. In fact, we should have done this earlier."
Both men looked up as the ladies approached. Matthew grinned up at Mary, her answering smile filling him with warmth.
"Better late than never," Robert murmured just before the ladies reached them, ending their private conversation.
Matthew's smile widened as his wife placed a hand on his unoccupied shoulder and stooped to gently kiss his cheek. He blushed to think that both his mother and Robert had witnessed her display of affection, as his heart soared at the tender attention.
When Mary straightened, he took her hand in his, and the group began to make their way back towards the house. Robert volunteered to push Matthew's wheelchair so that the newlywed couple could walk side by side, their joined hands swinging between them.
"Your birthday's in two days," Mary casually observed as she slipped into bed beside Matthew that night.
"Yes," he answered with a dismissive shrug.
"I've already got you one small present, but since I'm your wife now, I can do more. Anything in particular you want?"
I want to be a father. I want to make love to you. I want to dance with you in my arms.
"Nothing in particular."
There was a moment's pause as Mary helped him turn to face her.
"You don't need to get me anything," Matthew continued as he stroked her soft hair back from her face. "You do far too much for me as it is."
"I happen to disagree," Mary answered tartly, arching one perfectly-shaped brow. "If you won't give me any hints, I'll just have to guess at what you might like. If you end up with something you neither desired nor care for, you have no one to blame but yourself."
Matthew chuckled and wrapped one arm around Mary's waist, pulling her closer.
"Actually, I asked your father this morning for the only thing I really want...at least, the only thing I want that I can realistically ask far."
"Oh?"
"I've decided that I'm ready to see a specialist," Matthew explained absently. His attention was focused on tugging loose the ribbon that held the neckline of Mary's nightgown closed. It gave way, and he slipped his hand underneath the silken material to lightly stroke her breast.
"Mmmm," Mary hummed softly in pleasure, her mind fighting to process the important information he had just divulged through a fog of sensation. "Darling, I can't think properly with you doing that," she purred.
Matthew chuckled darkly at her obvious delight in his touch and leaned down to cover her mouth with his. They could talk more in the morning.
Feeling deliciously light-hearted and optimistic after discussing plans for the specialist's visit with Matthew, Mary entrusted her husband to his mother's care for the morning while she went into town to shop for his birthday. She returned home with several wrapped packages beside her on the car seat, eager to return to Matthew's side. Though she had been gone only a few hours, she missed him terribly.
She found him in the game room, engrossed in a bout of chess with another officer while Isobel watched. Recalling her mother-in-law's advice the previous day, she greeted him with a light kiss on the cheek. Isobel had certainly been right about the effect of showing him affection in front of others. He positively beamed. She stood behind him, one hand on his shoulder, as he proceeded to decidedly trounce the other officer at their game, offering him a brief kiss on the mouth as his prize.
Matthew was surprised that he could be so happy. Mary's affection made him feel special and wanted. She looked lovely in her red traveling suit, and he hadn't missed the envious stares of the other officers in the room. He was immeasurably proud that she was his.
After thanking the other man for the game and accepting a parting kiss from Isobel, Matthew suggested to his wife that they take tea together. He selected a book to read to her, Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, and they ensconced themselves comfortably in the private section of the library for the afternoon. They had been thus occupied for a little over an hour when Robert entered, holding a small white and butterscotch colored puppy in his arms.
"Who have you got there, Robert?" Matthew answered with a grin.
"Somebody who would like to meet you," the older man answered, offering the pup to Matthew who quickly placed his book face down on the table beside him to free his hands.
"A Welsh Corgi," Matthew observed as he stroked the little dog's soft fur. "I had one of these as a boy. Wonderful dogs. What's his name?"
"That's up to you, my boy," Robert answered with a smug grin. "He's yours."
Matthew eyes grew wide.
"Mine?"
"Happy birthday, my son," Robert spoke proudly, giving Matthew a firm pat on the shoulder. "It is a day early, but I saw no reason to delay introducing you two. I noticed how much you enjoyed playing with Isis yesterday, and recalled that one of my tenants had a litter available. A man needs a dog of his own."
"Thank you, Robert. He's a fine pup." Matthew chuckled softly as the handsome puppy repeatedly licked his hands.
"Papa, didn't you think it might be prudent to discuss things with me before actually getting Matthew a dog?" Mary interjected, feeling inexplicably irritated. Matthew had seemed to greatly enjoy interacting with Isis. She should be glad of anything that lifted his spirits these days, yet, for some reason, her father's gift bothered her. It seemed a big decision for him to make without her consent. Or, perhaps, she was only frustrated that she hadn't thought of it herself. The books, pajamas, and cuff links she had purchased for Matthew would certainly pale in comparison.
"What shall we call him, Mary?" Matthew asked, his obvious delight in his gift drawing a small smile from her, despite her pique.
"Whatever you like, darling."
Mary sighed as she watched Matthew and her father play with Puck, as he decided to call the pup, on the lawn for the next hour.
Suddenly, she realized why she hadn't been terribly enthusiastic about her father's gift to Matthew: she was jealous of a silly dog that was taking her husband's attention away from her. They had only been wed for three days, and, already, she felt like an old toy placed on the shelf in favor of a newer one.
It was ridiculous, really. The pup made Matthew happy. Why shouldn't she be happy for him? Mary groaned, disgusted with herself. Had she always been so selfish? Had anything she'd ever done for Matthew - things he so appreciated and was so endearingly grateful to her for - been done with purely selfless motives? Or had she only done them as a means to an end? because she wanted Matthew for her own? because she wanted him indebted to her? Well, now she had him, and, for the first time, she paused to truly ponder if marrying her had been the best thing for him.
She had seen an opportunity to grab at something she wanted, and had stopped at nothing short of lying to Matthew to acquire it. All those weeks before their wedding, she had told herself it wasn't a lie, but, realistically, that's exactly what it was. For the first time, she saw her actions in an entirely different light, and she hated what she saw.
It was uncanny, really, how something as simple as the gift of a dog could make her suddenly see herself with such painful clarity. Unable to contain her emotions, Mary rose to return inside. She needed a moment alone to compose herself. As he was engrossed in watching Puck interact with Isis, she hardly expected Matthew to notice her absence.
A/N2: Hope you enjoyed it!
For the record, I don't actually think that Mary dedicated her time and energy to Matthew (in canon or this story) purely out of selfish motives, though that point could certainly be argued. I actually think that, though the marriage was her idea, Mary would be the one who has the most difficulty adjusting afterwards. Now that she's accomplished her goal, she's starting to think seriously about how she accomplished it, and I don't think she would like to think that she manipulated Matthew into giving her what she wanted. But that's exactly what she did. She and Matthew both truly love each other, but they each have a lot to learn about what true love means. These are things they'll discover together.
As far as the pacing of the story, I know there have been a couple requests that I hurry things along. I do understand that point of view, but I'm trying to do more here than simply tell a story. I want to go inside the heads of these marvelous characters and explore their feelings and motivations if thrown into a different situation than we see them in on the show. In order to do that, I have to maintain this slow-ish pace. Things are happening, though. The specialist will arrive next chapter. The climax of the story isn't actually all that far away. All these little details and feelings are building towards it. I promise it will all come together if you patiently stick with me. :)
Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, I would love to see your input. :D
