Many thanks for the reviews and pm's and encouragement I get to continue AVMA. It does always mean the world to me that people continue to support and visit this universe. Please do review and let me know what you think of this chapter.

.~.~.~.~.

After having spent the morning in court handling a petty theft case, and after consuming a delicious luncheon with the other junior partner, Matthew was glad enough to devote his afternoon to paperwork. Peter Simon had many strengths as a man of law, but he possessed an aversion to paperwork that made his clerks despair. Rather as a relic of his work in wills and industrial contracts or a quirk of his own nature Matthew found odd joy in tabulating accounts and maintaining ledgers. As such he had taken over much of the note taking and oversaw the firm's primary contracts. He had been tabulating a particularly lengthy account for the last quarter of an hour. The sound of a sudden quick knock caused him to glance upwards. "Come in," He called. Henderson crept in closing the door behind him informing Matthew, "A Reginald Swire is here to see you." There was a decided pique in his tone as he added, "He does not have an appointment."

"Reggie? How extraordinary," Matthew remarked reaching for his coat and hurriedly pulling it on. "Well I suppose you had better send him in."

Henderson nodded and walked the few steps to the door. Opening it he announced, "Mr. Reginald Swire."

Matthew rolled out from behind his desk sticking his hand out saying, "Reggie how pleasant to see you again."

"Matthew," Reggie said bending slightly to shake Matthew's hand. In his other hand he toted a cumbersome leather case that was greatly worn and dated back to his earliest days in work.

"Won't you have a seat?" Matthew requested and once Swire had done so he immediately added, "Would you like some tea?" Reggie shook his head causing Matthew to nod pointedly at Henderson who promptly retreated back to the reception area.

The sound of the door closing seemed to unloosen Swire's tongue causing him to confesss,"I came here on business."

Matthew nodded granting, "Of course."

"I am here at Sir Richard Carlisle's behest." Reggie shared shifting his position in the chair.

"I was not aware you were one of Mr. Carlisle's representatives."

"I'm not generally," Reggie admitted distractedly crossing his left leg atop his right. "I believe he brought me into his fold because of my connection to you."

"That would make sense." Matthew affirmed sighing.

Reggie uncrossed his leg admitting, "You do not seem terribly surprised."

"I suppose I'm not." Matthew acknowledged before asking, "So what does Sir Richard want?"

Reggie unstrapped his case and withdrew some documents. He placed them on Matthew's desk explaining, "Mr. Carlisle wishes you to review these documents."

"Sir Richard has any number of capable solicitors." Matthew pointed out adding, "I cannot imagine there is anything in this business they could not ably handle."

Reggie nodded agreeably, "I thought the same. But he especially wishes you to address these matters." As if to illustrate his point he passed a heavy envelope across the desk. "The documents pertain to…."

"A medical clinic," Matthew predicted without looking at the envelope.

Reggie nodded his head as if having an unasked question answered, "I take it then the documents are no surprise to you."

"I'm afraid not," Matthew admitted chuckling ruefully. "No Carlisle spoke to me about this issue at a dinner we held. I told him then I was not interested."

"He hopes you will rethink your position." Reginald's offered in the most stilted of tones. Once again he took to staring out the window seemingly unwilling to convey too much. "He asked me to request that you to do so. I suppose," He said uneasily, "He believes, I suppose, that your guilt over Lavinia will put you in my debt, and make you eager to accede to my request." Seeing Matthew about to speak he demurred, "I was charged with delivering the papers to you. Beyond that delivery, it is no business to me."

.~.~.~.~.

"Lady Sarah," Mary exclaimed in surprise rising to greet her visitor. "How very nice of you to come," She gestured for her guest to take the straight back chair opposite the sofa, before inquiring, "May I offer you tea?"

"Thank you yes." Sarah replied lowering herself onto the sofa.

Mary inclined her head toward her butler causing Edwards to step forward questioning, "Yes milady?"

"Tea please," Mary said straightening her skirt as she sat down.

"Of course milady." He answered nodding and quickly retreating down the hall.

Returning her attention to her guest Mary smilingly inquired, "What brings you here this afternoon?"

Sarah studied her for a moment before opening her bag and withdrawing a piece of stationary. After unfolding it she scanned the page only an instant before explaining the contents to Mary. "I've been asked to speak to a women's group on April 12th."

"I see." Mary said before asking, "Would you like me to accompany you?" This had become their routine of sorts and one Mary found herself surprisingly accustomed to.

Sarah looked up saying, No. I want you to deliver the speech."

.~.~.~.~.

"The case is more complex than you appear to realize," Garrett pronounced walking down the hall alongside a corpulent man.

"He is my son," Adam Guthrie drawled angrily. "I am very familiar with the complexity of the case."

Garrett started to speak but seemed to think better of it and instead mutely listened as Guthrie continued, "I want my boy well. And I refuse to sit by and watch you fritter away time and money if you are incapable of making him well. Why," He added almost angrily, "In my trade a man such as you would be drummed out of the profession."

Garrett was by this time well into his second year of treating John Guthrie and as such also into his second year addressing the father of said patient. He had long ago made measure of the elder Guthrie. Adam Guthrie was a man of large tastes. The night before he'd joined several businessmen for dinner. They'd consumed thick cuts of bloody steak, had smoked their way through two boxes of cigars, and imbibed several bottles of bourbon. The night was not atypical. Success had found him late and Adam Guthrie was apt to display its effect with what others considered a vulgar pride. He was fond of buttonholing members of his club demanding they tell him their worth. He held loud, courses long dinners, and no guest ate half as much as Guthrie. His waistline had ballooned along with his bank account. His gluttony so enormous as to seemingly require physical manifestation…. The Guthrie's had long labored in the shipping industry. The war had elevated the firm to an entirely different level. While other firms were floundering, aching owing to a lack of manpower, much of the Guthrie workforce remained in place protected by contracts with the army. Adam Guthrie had felt the war would lead only to ever heightened profits for his firm, had viewed it as such as merely an economic activity. It had therefore come as something of a shock when his own son enlisted. Still the boy had hardly ever done a thing to bring him pleasure so the decision to enlist was hardly novel. And admittedly, the move had demonstrated a gumption Adam thought far beyond the boy, as such he'd felt a twinge of pride at his decision. That had vanished though after the Battle of the Strait of Otranto. Adam had come home, much to his mother's relief, without a scratch. The Guthrie's had counted themselves lucky. A week later the butler found Adam in the bath, the water tinged red. That was the end to any luck they had. In the two years since he had watched pound after pound go toward the boy's care and seen little to nothing in return. Two times he'd come home only to return. Garrett seemingly incapable of affecting any real change in his boy.

"His mother and I have depended on you." Guthrie spat chewing on a half-gone cigar. "We thought you were the best."

Garrett spun around, "I've done my best, but I made you no promises. Shellshock is a new field and one I have limited experience in."

"That is obvious." Guthrie granted tensely. Sighing he huffed, "Three times. Three times. We have brought him to you."

Garrett nodded agreeing, "I do understand your frustration. I share them."

"I cannot imagine that you do." Guthrie swore angrily squeezing his hat between his meaty fingers."Is there not some medication, some treatment? In my field if one engine does not work, you find another."

Garrett opened his office door extending his arm indicating Adam should step inside. "I wish the human body and mind were as simple." Gesturing to the chair opposite his desk he said, "Do sit down."

"No… I cannot…." He said crossing his arms over his chest. "I do not need to waste conversation on you…again." Softening but slightly he added, "I came here to see my son."

Garrett barely raised his eyes, instead interlacing his fingers and observing, "I believe that would be a singularly bad notion."

"You've not allowed any of us to see him in well over a moth."

"True," Garrett agreed reaching for his pipe. "Understand that is not accidental."

"I have to wonder why…. "As if sensing his tactic was not bound to work he shifted arguments insisting, "Surely if no one else his mother."

Garrett tossed the match he used into the glass try atop his desk. Exhaling he shook his head saying, "I think not." Leaning slightly forward he said, "You must see that contact with your family always leads to negative actions on John's part."

Guthrie's face went instantly red as he bellowed defiantly, "Are you saying my family is bad for my son?"

Garrett contemplated the question for but a moment before snapping, "Yes."

.~.~.~.~.

Seeing Swire placing his hands on the arm rests to help propel himself upward Matthew quickly spoke requesting, "A moment if you will." Swire acquiesced with the slightest bob of his head. "I'm surprised that's all…. You working for Carlisle. Him sending you here…it's all a bit much."

Inclining his head Reginald admitted, "It was not my aim to be again associated with men like Richard Carlisle." He admitted bluntly. "But I suppose we are all under the pay of someone else."

"I suppose we are." Matthew admitted thinking of some of the cases he was handling at present. "But I didn't imagine you working for a man like that."

Reginald offered the briefest of half smiles before admitting, "I wonder if you knew me quiet as well as you imagine."

Matthew contemplated this only saying, "Perhaps I do not."

Seemingly surprised by his words Reginald admitted tiredly, "I've just found it easier not to bother much about the who or why." Punctuating his words with a sigh, he looked up as if anticipating censure.

Matthew eyed him a moment before saying, "A logical philosophy I suppose."

"One you don't entirely approve of, I imagine."

"Oh I don't know about that." Matthew replied. After a moment he added sounding circumspect rather than certain, "I am not entirely sure Carlisle however that is a man I want to bother with."

"Well I can understand…," Reginald agreed before continuing, "But truthfully I don't see much of a downside in this offer he's making. " Seeing Matthew's slightly dubious expression, Swire began explaining his point, "Best I can see Carlisle has no stake in this matter. He's acquired enough interest in the bank that owns the loans on Dr. Garrett's clinic and bought the note from one of Crowbourgh's creditors. He can brow beat em but that's about it. I don't see there's any risk for you."

"You'd say that wouldn't you?" Matthew challenged steepling his hands atop his chest.

"I suppose I would." Reggie agreed crossing his left leg over his right.

Matthew capped and uncapped his fountain pen, "Have you looked over these documents."

"I was told very clearly not to," Reginald admitted crossing one leg over another. "As you said he has others who can fulfil that task. I was merely a messenger. I am not very interesting to Mr. Carlisle." Reggie disclosed bluntly, "You apparently are."

"Only by association," He said without further explaining his comment.

Reggie rose stating, "Well I've done my duty. I leave the business with you to ignore or explore as you choose." He began walking toward the door, even touched the doorknob. But then he turned and paused finally saying, "It might be a good opportunity for you." Reggie said decidedly. "I know you've decided to be a barrister but we both know you've a mind for figures, and you understand good business principals. You can barrister to your heart's content and still lay aside a good living." Nodding as if closing the discussion he strode from the room.

Left alone in his office Matthew found himself staring at the thick envelope Swire had left behind with absorbing interest.

.~.~.~.~.

"It's not that I'm unwilling," Mary said pouring a cup of tea. Extending her arm she offered Sarah a cup. She then busied herself pouring a splash of milk and a lump of sugar into her tea. "It's simply that I've never delivered a speech."

Sarah regarded her with a cagey smile offering, "Well there's no way to learn other than to start."

"But it's your committee."

"I have a prior engagement on that date," She said lifting her cup to her lips. After blowing on the tea to cool it she took a sip. "It's an important group and a receptive one as well. A good place to cut your teeth on so as to speak."

"I'm certain it is…" Mary granted pausing for a moment to gather her thoughts. "Only I have never…"

"You've said that," Sarah pointed out coolly. Mary had always considered herself wholly in control of herself, but there were moments where Sarah Simon reminded her of Violet and in those moments she felt dispossessed. "I'd never given a speech until I gave one."

"I wouldn't even know how to go about preparing." Mary argued dismissing the notion.

"You've heard me give several speeches on war orphans and our work. That should give you a solid start." Sarah countered clearly considering what if any help she might provide. "I will copy out my notes for those speeches. Yes," She said decidedly, "That should give you a very fine start."

"But you see I haven't," Mary began then seemingly thinking better of her words said, "Only I hadn't planned on such a role."

Sarah sat back seemingly pondering Mary's words. At length she lifted her cup observing, "You are not that different than I was at your age."

"I wouldn't be so certain of that," Mary demurred.

"Oh I'm certain your father had a slightly grander title and certainly more money than mine, but I see other similarities."

Mildly intrigued by the theory Mary queried, "Such as…."

The slightest hint of a smile touched the corners of Sarah's lips as she said, "We were both high born and too intelligent to accept the way society worked. Yet both too conservative to actually buck the system…. " She cast her eyes toward Mary continuing, "I quite admire your sister's pluck but it would never have occurred to me to play such a role. And I imagine the same is true of you?"

There was a challenge in her question and Mary was surprised to find herself agreeing admitting, "I would not disagree with that statement."

Sarah's smile remained enigmatic, "I chose marriage, and then tried to make the best of it I could." Reaching for her cup she sipped contemplatively. Returning her cup to the saucer she added, "And we both married middle class men with brains enough we hoped it would lift them up." She glanced over at Mary almost defiantly as if daring her to disagree with her words.

"I know your husband slightly of course as a student through my son, now as a solicitor, through my husband. But knowing the man does not mean I know of him as a husband. Still," She stated decidedly, "I've seen enough to think him of a modern disposition. He'd not object to you using your wits for more than planning dreary teas and even more dreary dinner parties."

"I would think that's likely true" Mary acknowledged reaching for her tea.

"Then I'm afraid I cannot understand your hesitation." Sarah's firmness allowed no room for doubt. "You are far too smart to waste your days in vague pursuits with nothing more taxing than dinner parties." Sarah turned eyeing Mary sharply as if evaluating her own judgment. "Or have I misread you." She eyed Mary in open curiosity, seemingly daring her to disagree.

"Perhaps not misread but I think you believe me more displeased than I am." Mary said offering, "I'm happy with my husband and our life here."

"As well you should be." Sarah agreed taking a sip of her tea. "But such contentment hardly precludes you from having some teas and making a few speeches."

Mary folded and unfolded her hands saying, "I am not a reformer."

Sarah smiled over her tea cup taking a sip before challenging, "Does that mean you never were or believe you never shall be."

Finding herself muddled by Sarah's line of thought Mary admitted, "I suppose I always have been but never in the way you might imagine."

"So you like to complain about society but not involve yourself."

Mary considered this before acknowledging, "I suppose I have." She studied her guest carefully as if defying her guest to remark on her choice.

"You need not feel badly."

"I don't." Mary insisted rather too quickly and certainly to be quite believed.

Sarah took another sip then took her time placing the cup back on the saucer and placing it on the table beside her chair. Mary thought it a stalling tactic as if the older woman wished to take her time about answering or perhaps just how to reply. "When Pete….when my son was alive I went to these teas and events and I said all the right words. No one darned more socks for the Boers or who hosted more afternoon discussion groups focused on important issues…." She shook her head as if mildly angered by even the memory. "I was very good at playing the part but it didn't interest me. Not really," She said frowning. "I was to involved in the romance of motherhood." Her features softened and she seemed almost nostalgic. "Peter was my entire world. And the world itself could not compete. Then," She said her features drooping and her voice growing softer, "My world was shattered. And now," She continued regretfully, "I am left with only this world…a world he died for." She paused reaching for her tea taking a long meditative sip before continuing, "Now I have an investment, whereas before I only had the vaguest interest."

"And that is certainly admirable."

"I wonder," Sarah said her gaze boring into Mary unsettling her further. "If you may travel such a road as well."

"I am afraid I don't have the slightest clue what you mean."

"I don't wish to be indelicate," Sarah said stiffening slightly, "But will you and Matthew be….?"

Mary stared at her unsure what she was being asked. Inferring Sarah's meaning Mary felt her skin flush and her voice dropped even as she said, "I do not expect Matthew and I will be anything but Uncle and Aunt."Thinking the question a gross intrustion into her privacy and her marriage Mary assumed nothing more could be asked.

Alas, she was mistaken for Sarah said quietly but firmly, "Then perhaps you too must invest in the world. If you are not to mother sons or daughters perhaps you must expend such energies on society as a whole."

Mary stared at her finding her thoughts confused by the concept, yet not wholly able to dismiss the theory.

.~.~.~.~.

"I won't see him! I won't." Sybil could hear John Gutherie's agitated voice well before she opened the door to his room. "Tell him to go! Just make him go away!" He stated insistently to the nurse standing before him trying to calm him.

"Thank you Sister," Sybil said closing the door behind her. "I will see to Mr. Guthrie."

The nurse mutely nodded and turned exiting the room. "I won't see him! I won't!" John promised fretfully.

"Do sit down." Sybil said matter of factly. "Sit down right away and I'll see to your temperature. It must be up as you've been fussing so…More than the babies I tended to during my training." She spoke calmly and continued talking as she guided him to the bed and then covered him with blankets. Pulling a thermometer from her smock she plucked it into his mouth cutting off further conversation. "Letting yourself get upset over this…very childish and not what I'd expect."

"You haven't met him," John declared stubbornly around the thermometer. As if anticipating her next comment he admonished, "And please don't tell me he's a lovely person." His voice dropped to a near feminine sound which Sybil thought an odd approximation of her voice. Seemingly depleted he shrank down under the bedcovers inquiring, "Why is he here?"

"What a stupid question," Sybil snapped adding, "He's your father."

"He's been that for years," Guthrie said plainly. "It's never forced him to provide me much time and what he did provide….."

"Well he's here now."

Rolling his eyes John said, "He's here to check in on his investment." Thoughtlessly he tossed off his belief saying, "I've been a commodity to him since birth."

"A commodity he's checking on," Sybil pointed out firmly.

"Oh yes," He agreed tiredly. "You see a businessman like my father believes in keeping a close eye on all possessions."

"I think all father's believe in that practice." Sybil said adding softly, "We are their most precious possessions after all."

John looked up at her an odd smile crossing his face as he observed,"You think families are great things, I suppose sometimes they are." He allowed briefly before continuing, "But sometimes they are poisonous. Mine has more snake venom than in all of India."

"You must be exaggerating." Sybil said gently.

"I'm not." He insisted firmly. "And I'd bet if you really looked at yours, you'd see a cobra coiled there as well." There was a certainty in his tone that brokered no opposition.

.~.~.~.~.

Mary rose crossing to the opposite side of the room, busying herself for no obvious purpose. After a time she turned facing Sarah saying, "Well you have certainly surprised me."

"I think I've done rather more than that," Sarah observed uneasily, "I believe I've troubled you and that was never my intention."

"You must know the things you speak of are so foreign to me." Mary admitted continuing her thought she added, "The things you dismiss thedinners, the mindless teas… Those were the very things I was reared to consider essential."

"I did not mean to offend."

"Of course you did not…and I am not offended…."

"Then what troubles you?"

Mary turned slowly strolling back toward the sofa. Lowering herself down on the cushions she said, "I suppose I am confused."

"And why is that?"

"The things you say…I knew there were people like Sybil…women like you…but I've never seen myself as that sort."

"And how do you see yourself?"

"I suppose I don't quite know that just yet." Mary admitted glancing down at her hands. "I always assumed…. I thought I would do the very things you dismiss… I thought happiness would be marrying a certain type of man, and doing the things my mother brought me up to do."

"You certainly chose a different path if that was your aim."

Mary continued glancing down twisting her wedding band as she spoke, "I did not give itmuch thought really. Marrying my husband…. It felt right. I knew we'd get on and…"

"Haxby was your alternative." Mary glanced up eyes blazing. "Carlisle documented every stage in your relationship." Her tone was utterly matter of fact.

Mary chuckled remembering the clippings Richard had enclosed to her, "So he did."

"He's an odious man." Sarah offered supportively.

"Not always." Mary said surprising herself. "But I don't think we would have gotten on well together."

"And you and Matthew?"

"Wonderfully well," Mary admitted feeling an odd pleasure at the realization. The rush to the alter had carried such risks and yet thus far it had brought happiness beyond what she could have hoped….

"Then I suppose now you must decide which life you want for yourself." Sarah said regarding Mary interestedly. "If teas and dinners are to be your choice."

"Or speeches and the like." Mary finished the sentence reaching for her tea.

Sarah likewise lifted her cup saying, "The choice is yours."

"I suppose it is." Mary agreed uneasily.

"Why don't you view this speech as something in the nature of an examination? Deliver it and decide if you'd like to continue along that line."

Mary tried to think of an objection, thinking of none she merely sipped her tea and steered the conversation toward safer waters.

.~.~.~.~.

Perhaps due to his temperament, perhaps due to the subject and its nearness to his heart… whatever the cause Adam Guthrie could not disguise his anger. He face went red and became tinged to the hue of a cherry. His jowls shook as he shouted and his finger habitually shook as he pointed it at the subject of his rage.

At present he was jabbing said finger in Garrett's face. Stumbling to his feat he continued pointing promising, "I could cut you off." Adam swore angrily. "I could remove my son from your clinic."

Garrett nodded accepting the essential truth in his comments. "You certainly could." He kept his tone even predicting, "But we both know you will not."

"Why won't I?" Adam demanded stepping closer to the desk, his gaze boring into Garrett.

For his part Garret remained seated, silent and seemingly contemplative, "You care about your son." He stated flatly. "I know you think that as a weakness but it is true. You want him well."

"And you think that makes me beholden to you."

"No," He said before adding, "But I do believe it makes you realize that my judgment might bear some weight." Leaning back in his chair he explained, "Your son has never tried to harm himself while under my care. It's only when you get him back home that the trouble begins."

Adam Guthrie regarded the doctor for a moment before he felt his knees weakening as he sunk silently down the chair, a far smaller man than mere moments before. "You are saying we caused this?" He shook his head, "We did…we did nothing."

"The war did this." Garrett said removing his pipe. "We are just trying to repair the damage."

The anger seemed to have drained out of Afam and he said, "And you think our family makes it worse."

"I believe John thinks it does, and frankly in this equation he is all I'm concerned over."

Adam dropped his head dejection evident even in the way he slumped in the chair. "I have to trust you then?"

"You must."

Guthrie shook his head saying, "I don't trust easily."

Garrett seemed unsurprised by this admission remarking, "In this way John is his father's son.

.~.~.~.~.

Matthew was trying to refocus himself on his ledgers when he heard the office door being pushed open and footfalls landing on the carpet.

"Good afternoon," Peter called cheerfully. "Busy at work I see."

"Just about," Matthew agreed realizing he had no idea what he had done for the past half hour. He seemed unable to focus, his attention forever drifting back to the envelope. Trying to disguise his state he queried, "Have you come to have a look at the books?"

"No, no, no," Peter sing sang his answer. "Oh no I happily leave such tasks to your most capable hands and your agile financial mind."

"I'm hardly of the mindset you seem to imagine." Matthew balked self-consciously. Matthew could never quite work out if Peter's mirth was truthful or rather part of his personality so ingrained that it bubbled out absent much thought or logic. There was a kind of casualness to Simon that Matthew envied even as he knew he would never have that tendency again. The trenches the odd cocktail of danger intermingled with mind numbing boredom seemed to have sapped any softness, much less impulsiveness from him. One did not go about plunging in amid fate and chance after you'd seen fate and chance murder countless men.

"Do not be shy, my boy." Peter avowed seriously. "I have taught myself to handle books and accounts, but you do it so effortlessly. That's a skill that will do you well no matter which side of the law you choose to pursue."

Matthew chuckled knowingly. "You think I might go back to wills and estates?"

"I think a lad of your abilities, with your mind for figures would do well to keep every avenue open." His tone was gentle as he continued offering, "Why not see what all the world offers?"

"I've wondered the same myself." Matthew conceded obliquely without bothering to explain his meaning.

"I telephoned my home a quarter of an hour ago." Peter stated matter of factly.

Surprised by the swift change of topic Matthew said, "I do hope nothing is the matter?"

"No, no…well no more than usual I suppose." Peter said his typical smile broadening ever so slightly. "Anyway my wife informed me she spoke to your wife an hour or so ago."

"Did she? "Matthew questioned casually. "Do you know what it regards?"

"Knowing Sarah," He said crossing one leg over the other with a hopeful smile, "She's probably planning some societal improvement scheme or the like. I assume she is wrangling your wife in that scheme."

"Oh I see." Matthew replied seemingly not finding the concept terribly engaging.

"Is that Mary's interest? Social causes and the like." Peter asked seemingly genuinely curious.

"I don't know really." Matthew admitted slightly abashed to realize he had no clue if it was her sort of thing at all. Mary had struck him as a critic of society but he had never worked out if such criticisms indicated an actual desire to affect change. His mother and Sybil seemed the standard bearers of such interests, Mary had never struck him as such.

"Well don't bother to much," Peter spoke with a jolliness that Matthew envied. "Working with my wife will help her sort out if she does or not. " He smiled sitting forward slightly acknowledging, "Sarah really is marvelous at those things. I thought well, I was afraid after Peter that might be gone too." He paused looking haunted for a moment before continuing, "But I believe she's finding her way back to it."

"Is it so easy?" Matthew asked feeling instantly regretful for his dismissive tone. "I do apologize… I'm so very cynical now. But I shouldn't…."

"It's quite alright my boy," Peter said meeting his gaze. "You have every right to be cynical. And I suppose I do sound naïve. It's only what other hope do I have." Matthew made no response and the room grew silent. "It's harder than you imagine being a husband over a lifetime. Easy enough early on but later it grows more complex. Women change and you find the young sweetheart becomes rather someone else…"

"Of course," Matthew's replied his words sounding very slightly mollified, when in fact he just found the topic terribly awkward. "I suppose….

Peter looked down and his usual ebullience seemed to be fading. Thinking a change in topic badly needed Matthew interjected. "I had a visitor this morning." Seeing Peter glance up seemingly engaged by his words Matthew continued saying, "Reginald Swire."

Peter crossed his legs admitting, "I suppose I could sit here and pretend I am not aware you were to marry his daughter." Seeing the slightest surprise in Matthew's expression he added, "Even the best kept secrets are poorly hidden."

"I suppose," Matthew granted uneasily. He had clung to the idea of the secrecy of the thing to pass over any guilt. Leaning back in his chair Matthew confided, "Carlisle sent him as some sort of welcome committee."

"I do wonder why he'd use Swire for that sort of thing." Peter shook his head as if trying to work out a particularly vexing cross word. "It's not really Carlisle's sort of thing. He's usually spear the enemy sort."

"I was a bit surprised myself."

"Whatever do you think Carisle wants from you?" Peter asked suddenly deeply engaged in the conversation.

"My assistance he says," Matthew drummed his finger atop the envelope. "I believe he wants to rake some mud over some well-known figures….as well as some personal interest."

"And does that interest you?" The neutrality of the question as always struck Matthew. The elders he'd known Reggie, his mother, Robert always sought to impose their views, Peter rarely did. His profession made him adaptable to almost any avenue of decision.

Having spent the better part of an hour contemplating that very question Matthew found himself no closer to an answer. "I'm not entirely certain." He sounded almost abashed as he acknowledged, "You might think me a bit mad but I find the concept more interesting than I'd expect."

"I don't think curiosity is a sign of madness." Peter said thoughtfully. "Both of us chose a profession allowing us to indulge in curiosity. It's a poor barrister or solicitor who isn't curious."

"I suppose," Matthew agreed accepting the truth in the analogy. "Still, there are risks in dabbling with the likes of Carlisle."

"There are risks in any endeavor."

"True," Matthew acquiesced evenly. "And I welcome a challenge. Carlisle would certainly provide that."

"You seem to only have positive reasons to accept the offer."

Matthew looked up disagreeing, "Only if I ignore the voice in my head screaming that this is a terrible idea."

.~.~.~.~.

The issue of war orphans is among Britain's most pressing issues. Mary read the sentence before crossing it out and beginning again. It is imperative for every responsible subject to concern themselves with the war orphan crisis. She reread it twice then angrily balled the paper up lobbing it across the room and slumping back against her chair in utter defeat. She had heard many speeches, had sat by when Lady Sarah delivered dozens on the topic of war orphans, yet she seemed incapable of crafting even a half-decent opening line. All those dinner parties, she had had such pithy remarks and yet now each line seeming more false than the last. Sighing she steeled herself to begin again, however before she could do she heard footsteps and turned expectantly.

Patrick strode in offering a distracted greeting before inquiring, "Is Matthew home yet?"

Mary fought the urge to roll her eyes several times. "He's at the office." It had taken her mere days to become accustomed to her husband's schedule, and as such she thought poorly of anyone so unobservant as to fail to do the same.

"Of course, of course." He agreed. "And what time does he return generally?" The question like the previous one seemed by turns distracted and confounded.

"Six."

"I see." He lowered himself to sit on the arm of the sofa. "I don't suppose he could spare me an hour or so this evening?"

Mary turned from her notes giving him her entire attention demanding, "Whatever for?"

"I could use his expertise." Patrick stated disclosing, "Robert sent me a letter. Apparently, he wants me to find a curate for the parish."

"What happened to him?"

"He's an older man; Robert thinks we need a contingency plan. For afterwards…" He explained awkwardly.

"Do you suppose we really need one?" Mary asked leaning back in the chair.

"What?" Patrick sputtered sounding surprised by her words. "I thought you and Matthew were churchgoers." He said as if searching for a rationale for her words.

"We are of course," Mary granted before continuing, "But that doesn't mean I see that as a sustainable practice."

"You are calling for change?" Patrick sounded very mildly amused. "I suppose marriage does change one."

"Just because I don't march around, and give up meat, and call for the vote, does not mean I am a slave to tradition." She said finding herself surprising agitated by his statement.

"I never assumed you were."

Feeling only slightly mollified Mary asked, "What sort of curate does Papa want?"

"Socially conservative, wedded to the old ways, willing to hold up the aristocracy."

"Expected," Mary clucked disappointedly. "And have you located such a candidate?"

"Several." He said adding thoughtfully, "It is surprising how prevalent conservatism is among the clergy."

"Hardly," Mary demurred adding, "They know who butters their bread."

"And I suppose you'd favor a more progressive candidate?"

Mary seemingly taken aback at his words said, "I have not given the matter the slightest thought."

"Really?" He questioned seemingly surprised. "But it's your home."

"It's your home," Mary dismissed the comment as if waving away a pesky fly. "You and my sister's..."

"Well of course," He granted before adding, "But its large enough for all of us."

Mary's lips dipped lower causing her to ask, "Whatever can you mean?"

Seemingly confused by her question Patrick sputtered, "Oh well you see….I always assumed one day after he'd settled a bit…built himself up a bit…well I thought you and Matthew and Sybil would come home. "

Mary barely considered his words before saying resolutely, "I hardly think so."

"Why ever not?" There was something of a demand in his question.

An odd look of pique crossed Mary's face for a fleeting instant but she pushed it away offering, "Matthew's career is here."

"He could easily get a position in Ripon. Harvile…."

"Yes he could." Mary agreed rather more evenly than was her tendency. "But I'm not certain that would really make him happy. Given his….condition." She said refusing to stumble on the term. "Matthew needs to feel he has value and worth outside of the family. I think he can find that here."

"But after some time surely…" He seemed to be clutching at any possibility.

"I rather think not. Isobel is here and of course that links us further. Sybil as well," She looked up meeting his gaze not unsympathetically, "So as you see it seems for the foreseeable future it seems decided that we shall remain here."

"I see," Patrick agreed seemingly lost in his own thoughts a perplexed expression crossing her face.

.~.~.~.~.

Strolling tiredly down the hall Garrett nodded at the nurses he passed before turning and opening the door to a patient room. The shades had been drawn in Guthrie's room and in the shadows Garrett recognized his patient clearly slumbering. Seeing a figure seated by the bed he lifted his first finger and pointed toward himself as he backed out of the room. Once Sybil had followed him out into the hall he asked, "Did he require a draught?"

Sybil nodded saying, "Today was very trying."

Garrett offered a perfunctory nod saying, "I pushed his father off but just…. "

"That was good of you." She said smiling up at him.

"It was professional. Guthrie seeing his father would impede his recovery."

Sybil frowned inquiring, "Is that the only reason you did it?"

"Of course," He stated flatly. "Whatever reason would motivate me?"

"None I suppose." Sybil said.

"Shall we make rounds? I'd like to see how Avers' wound is faring." Turning on his heel he waited until Sybil fell in step beside him before continuing to walk down the hall.

.~.~.~.~.

Mary had passed much of the afternoon seated at Matthew's desk fingers interlaced contemplating the task of delivering a speech. Springs ago she had blithely told Matthew she had political opinions without explaining them. Not a week later she had groaned at her Granny's statement that a woman should have her husband's political opinions… She had even bragged Matthew might serve in high office. All that seemed so long, long ago…And certainly she had political views but she had never, ever thought of getting up and delivering a speech about her thoughts. Such antics were more Sybil's province. She preferred making witty remarks at dinner parties. While admittedly delivering a speech on war orphans was hardly akin to joining Emily Davison for a day at the races… Still it was miles from the future Cora had envisioned. The one she had thought certain. That might be good or it might not be… Mary really couldn't say. Certainly she had complained enough about the waiting room, but she had never much considered if she might actually escape the limitations of that sphere. Stepping out of the room had attractions and perils, she was certain of that, she might be ascending to a new life or tumbling from a precipice. Sybil, she knew, would fling herself out the door and at whatever dragons were to come…but Mary felt less certain. Pragmatism not progressivism dominated her world view. A mindset of acceptance and bargaining versus exploration colored her thinking… Touching her temples she felt a pain massing there…. She had a sudden appreciation for the sudden sighs that Matthew sometimes emitted while studying a particularly vexing brief. The thought of him caused her to smile rising from the desk she crossed the room and into the hall deciding to do the one thing that always calmed her.

.~.~.~.~.

"You are rather quiet," Edith observed as she adjusted her earring, watching her husband through the reflection in the looking glass. His invitation to dinner had been as unexpected as it was welcome and she was eager to look her very best for him.

"I suppose I am a bit," He admitted distractedly. He was seated on Edith's bed waiting while she dressed for an early dinner.

She lifted her brow asking, "Do you want to discuss it?"

He seemed to ponder her question for a moment before shaking his head. "I am simply adjusting to some new realities."

Edith watched him carefully before inquiring, "Perhaps we should stay in?"

He shook his head insisting, "No I couldn't face that."

Edith studied him silently finally saying, "Can you face just me?"

He frowned saying, "It will be us… from now on."

"Us and the little one." She said placing her hand atop her still flat stomach.

His lips curved upwards, "Yes of course. Him or her as well…" He paused a moment before saying, "I suppose as it is just to be us…perhaps we should begin finding out how it shall be with just the two of us."

Edith nodded careful to guard her emotions lest she reveal to much. "I think that sounds quite wonderful."

He gifted her a smile suggesting, "After your appointment with that pompous fool your father favors….I think we should go home."

Edith turned facing him. "Are you quite sure?"

He forced his lips upwards vowing, "Of course."

Edith rose and crossed the room resting her arms on her husband's shoulders and pressing her forehead against his. "I'll make you happy." She vowed earnestly. "I will make you happy."

In response he pulled her into his arms holding her tightly against his breast.

.~.~.~.~.

"Mr. Crawley," Henderson intoned in a mildly irked tone suggesting this was not his first utterance of the phrase.

"Uh yes," Matthew said finding himself mildly dazed.

"Lady Mary Crawley on the telephone," Henderson informed him utilizing the exalted tone he always adopted at the mere mention of his wife.

"Thank you Henderson," He said reaching for the telephone answering, "Mary."

"Hello darling," She replied warmly. "How has your day been?"

"Interesting," He answered thinking the comment a vast understatement. "Yours?"

The line was silent a long moment before Mary answered coolly, "Complex."

"Well, that does sound interesting." Matthew remarked finding himself smiling

"Hardly," Mary demurred admitting, "However I hardly called you to discuss my day."

Matthew found himself smiling as he asked," And what better reason could you have for calling?"

He could almost see her smile spreading, and he certainly could hear the mirth in her voice increasing as she replied. "To convey a bit of news… it seems we are to have the whole of the house to ourselves this evening."

"Really? Well that is a rare occurrence." He said adding, "And a very pleasant one."

"Indeed. Sybil is working, and Patrick has apparently decided to take Edith out to dinner." Mary said answering his question even before he could mold it into words.

Matthew smiled at the news saying, "And I am certain my wife wants me to take her out as well."

"Quite the opposite actually," Mary demurred explaining, "Your wife thought we could have a quiet domestic night." There was almost a feline purr of pleasure in her tone as she questioned, "Doesn't that sound nice?"

"As nice as nice can be." Matthew replied happily. "Shall I have Thomas stop for flowers or wine?"

"No just bring yourself." Mary said playfully, "And as quickly as you can."

Matthew felt himself smiling promising, "Within the hour."

"I will be waiting." Mary agreed happily. "With the wine…"

"Goodbye," He said returning the phone to the receiver. As he did so the envelope came back into his line of sight. Drumming his fingers atop the wood he contemplated matters. He could almost hear the echo of Mary's laugh, and yet the pull of curiosity about the envelope remained strong. "Henderson have my car brought around in a quarter of an hour," He said decidedly calling his assistant. He heard Henderson conveying the news before again turning to stare at the envelope. Reaching across his desk he lifted the letter opener from atop the desk. Then without further thought he sliced open the envelope withdrawing the papers within beginning to familiarize himself with the contents.

.~.~.~.~.