Hi! Away for a bit...but here we go... hope you like it. Reviews as always welcome!

XX

Mary, swaddling Robbie in a sling and feeding him, attempted to complete her application process to the International Management Master's degree program at the London School of Economics. She had been preliminarily accepted but now needed to polish up some c.v. information and letters of recommendation. Elsie Hughes had already sent her recommendation letter with another, private note to Mary telling her this was the right decision for Mary's career.

The other letter of recommendation request had been sent and answered as well. That one had been much more difficult for Mary to ask for. It was to Ryan. To ask him to summarize her role as his vice president for donor relations. To encapsulate her accomplishments in the two years she spent at the foundation. Such a letter would go far towards her being seen by the faculty as a young professional with strong diplomatic skills as well as solidifying her as an ambitious individual in pursuit of the goal of starting her own non-profit agency.

As the baby struggled in her arms, Mary realized she needed to keep that other, professional and ambitious, part of her life in her sights.

Ryan had accepted her request readily and said he would get right on it. "So glad you've decided to continue working in the field and pursuing a graduate degree." Said without any rancor, Mary was glad. She had sent him a private letter accompanying the official recommendation request. She felt he had the right to know that not only had she returned to the UK for school, but that she and Matthew were expecting their first child together.

He had responded simply that he wished them all well. Mary left it at that. Relieved actually that it was out in the open. She needed his support for the graduate program. And both of them knew she had been an asset to his foundation and more than capable of achieving this goal.

Pushed herself slightly away from the desk and grasped Robbie's bottom to check to see if a diaper change was in order. This multi-tasking of parental duties, returning to school, and defining her new career seemed surreal. As if she existed in dual universes. Something, she realized very quickly, she would have to get used to if all of this was to work.

It was simultaneously draining and exhilarating.

Just the change she had wanted back in California. That while she had felt professionally accomplished at the Foundation, the hollow spot in her heart had never healed the way she had imagined it would after the divorce. Then she had thought herself fearless, able to change and reset her life without looking back. Without regret.

Maybe that would have worked if she had never met Matthew. Had never fallen in love with him. Had left their love still intact even as she divorced him to prove her independence and lack of sublimating herself to what she perceived then to be his will to possess her.

How young she had been. It was never one or the other.

She did not regret the time spent away from Matthew or from Downton. She now saw it as necessary for her to be the person she was now. Matthew too had changed. He had let go of the chip on his shoulder that had kept him constantly trying to prove himself. Had eased into his role as Earl, as member of the House of Lords, as father to Robbie. He claimed it came from years of the tedious legal contract work that had sent him all over the world. Despite his own nature, he had learned to let go and take whatever was thrown at him.

Getting up she returned to the bedroom she shared with her infant. Moving to change the sleepy head as quickly and delicately as possible, she sighed. She loved this time of night.

She whispered "sweet, sweet baby" in his ear and nuzzled his cheek. Still not the dark, middle of the night when she was exhausted, but late enough that the rest of the household had retired for the evening.

She placed her sleeping son in the snuggled space of his crib. The chill of the November night seemed not to bother him. She stayed several minutes simply absorbing the ordinary miracle of life and love that this child represented.

She missed Matthew something fierce this time of night. They had taken to texting each other once Robbie was down for the night. Simple declarations of love. Notes of things to done still at the house. The occasional note of hunger and raw desire crept into Matthew's messages. She responded in kind. They would find time for each other soon.

Her mother had been –after her initial panic attack subsided-more than welcoming to Mary's surprise decision to stay at Crawley House. It had been a rash decision. One, she now looked on with some amusement as she remembered her mother's face as she appeared on the stoop of Crawley house with the Moses basket containing the squeaking four month old and an oversized gym bag full of baby clothes.

Cora's eyes had widened and threatened to be removed from her skull. Her mouth made the form of words but none came out. Her thought? Oh God! Mary's done it again…. Left Matthew and now with a baby!

"Mother." Mary just shook her head at Cora's countenance. She could read the expression so clear. Had she still failed to earn her mother's trust even at 27? "Get a grip. I could not stand the noise and dust at home." And she pushed past her still astonished mother's face and set the basket down in the foyer. Got Robbie out and set him within her shoulder. "We're here just until the roofing is done." Giving her mother 'the don't give me that look' side eye. "Nothing to worry about."

Cora's sigh of relief was audible. Life's twists and turns this past year had been so tumultuous, so nerve straining, she needed Mary and Matthew to flourish. That this new Crawley generation, inclusive of the be-dimpled Robbie now, would stay at Downton and infuse the house with as much love and passion as she and Robert had with their family.

XX

Isis whined piteously atop the bed covers. "I know girl," Matthew said, idly petting the year old dog as he scrolled down his mobile's screen. "I miss her too."

Even being pet by her beloved owner did not assuage Isis. Her tail, thumping like mad, hammered the bed. She yelped a mournful, piercing sound which startled Mathew, who looked up. She showed Matthew her deep set eyes appearing sad.

Usually delegated to the doggie cot at the foot of the large king size bed, Matthew had taken advantage of Mary's absence and pity on his pet and indulged the dog by allowing her to sleep next to him filling the expansive emptiness of the king size bed. He felt the bed so vacant without Mary and Isis's presence soothed his own need for some companionship.

It was 5am and he was already fully awake. The builders would be in by 6am to continue re-slating the roof and his body's clock had adjusted to ensure he would be up and the house open and ready for their arrival.

Mold and ivy growth as well as broken, cracked and mismatched slate made the work long and intensive. The repairs, months behind schedule already because of the inability to find the exact matching slate slabs English Heritage had required, were also hindered by the task of removing the old slabs and cleaning up decades of neglect. All meant a series of continuous deferments. While understanding the need to fill out all the paperwork and follow the rigorous historic preservation regulations, it was frustrating to Matthew. The builders had filled the time with fixing the internal infrastructure problems. The upper stories all undergoing ripping and tearing of walls to clear the mildew and damp.

But the noise, and the dust, and the constant whirring of machinery and clanging of tools had forced Mary to move temporarily with Robbie to Crawley House.

"Matthew." Mary had said, pressing her hand to her head, an evening about three week previous, in a frustrated, tired voice. "I just can't do this." The hammering was drumming through her head at a decibel level that threatened to take her over the edge. The dust, despite the best efforts to keep it on the second floor, had filtered down and covered everything. She cuddled the baby tightly in one arm and threw loose strands of tangled hair back across her forehead. Sleepless. With sore breasts and a still recovering body, Mary needed some peace and quiet.

He still thought she was beautiful.

"We could try sleeping downstairs?" He suggested. But he knew that was a no go as well. Certain areas of the saloon and library were also blocked with construction and repair as well as the installation of a visitor desk in the outer foyer.

"No." She said resigned to moving. "I will stay with mother at Crawley House in the village."

When he stiffened, she grasped his hand. "Won't be for long."

He tried to smile, but knew it was at best halfhearted. "I know. I just don't want you both to go." He took the baby from her arms. Robbie was thriving. His recent checkup came to show his weight was up. He was a most of the time a happy go lucky baby, gurgling and burbling without a lot of fussiness. The late night feedings had become Matthew's responsibility as he would half blind, half asleep go down the hall to the make shift kitchen they had set up on the second floor and grab out the mini refrigerator a container she had left for him to warm and use.

Matthew loved spending long minutes simply watching him either in the crib, or in one of the many types of seats and blankets, or in either parents arms. Though his eyes were clear cerulean blue, Mary warned Matthew that baby's eyes change color and it was no guarantee they would stay that way.

Matthew indulged the idea that they would. His did. So he said nothing.

He handed Robbie back to his mother.

Mary nodded and returned to her feeding. She didn't want to go either. But it was the only solution. And within the day she had packed up all the baby paraphernalia and toted them by the Rover over to Crawley House. She returned to get some things for herself.

"I'll be over to see you tonight." Matthew promised, trying not to yell even as the hammering and noise escalated.

"Maybe I can find some time to slip away as well." Mary replied, giving him a quick kiss as she eased herself behind the steering wheel.

Despite both their best efforts, with all the repair work and so many people in and out of Downton, Mary found it easier to just stay at Crawley House and await Matthew's visits. Matthew tried to get away but he found that the quiet of the evenings were the only time he could find to work on the accounts and daily household needs in any kind of coherent thought. And he still had the Lords to deal with. Even out of session there were meetings and reports to file.

So long days went by where they did not see each other.

Feeling cooped up and the noise and dust a constant, Matthew took to running again. In the crisp late autumn air, he would leave the house as soon as the builders arrived and ran first the perimeter of the house and then out into the monk's garden. One thing planned for spring was a triathlon in the village. Downton was to be the site of the marathon portion and he played around with the idea of running it himself. So far he could only do a 5K without completely collapsing in a helpless heap.

Matthew was needed at all hours to supervise the work and be available to answer questions or open up rooms as necessary. So he hardly got over to town to visit.

And, even as he tried a couple of times to overnight at Crawley House, too many women made him feel constantly outnumbered.

The last straw came after he finished a run in the town. He showered in the only bathroom at Crawley House, stepping out of the room while unconsciously wrapping the towel around him, and literally bumped into Violet on her way to the guest room.

She caught Matthew completely unawares, still dripping and rubbing another towel through his hair. He turned quickly, muttered an unintelligible expletive, and managed to throw the same towel to cover the rest of his torso.

"Dear boy…" and a half whisper under her breath, "Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan?" being the only words Violet could get out of her mouth before Matthew mumbled an apology and beat a hasty retreat to Mary's room.

"At my age…" she opined, "That was quite a shock." Violet said later at dinner.

"Oh Granny…" Mary's eyes rolled but she gave Matthew a side eye. He shrugged, red faced and helpless. She put her napkin up to her mouth to hide her smirk. He tried to keep his face on the straight and narrow.

But it was hopeless.

The two descended into giggles.

He stayed at Downton from then on.

Edith replaced Matthew as guest at Crawley House. She began to stay long periods in York. Mary needed to consult with her on some plans for the future. The two women were concocting a business venture together so Edith made the decision to settle down back in Downton Village. And she alternated between the Dower House and Crawley House until she found a place of her own.

Isobel also came to help when Cora was away.

It was becoming too much as well.

Mary knew they all meant well. But frankly she could do with the house to herself. She all but avoided saying as much, grateful to be away from the noise at Downton and to keep the peace and let all the grannies know they were loved and welcome to spend time with Robbie.

When the "incident with the towel" as it was now called happened, one thing that flashed through Mary's mind was that she wished it had been her in the hallway. Their sex life had been seriously lacking recently. Part, she concluded, of why she felt so out of sorts.

Something needed to be done about that. And quick.

And wedding talk was now near constant with her mother. "Now that the baby's born…." Usually started another request that Mary set a date. She had put off talk during the pregnancy, and now she said that the holiday season was upcoming and with the tourist events planned for Christmas at Downton, she did not want to have a bunch of outsiders gawking at her wedding.

"Are you putting this off?" Cora finally asked frustrated at the lack of momentum.

"Of course not." Mary huffed, tried to sound not like a petulant teen. "Really Mother. We will get married when and how we want to. You had your wedding remember." And that usually was how all the conversations on the subject ended.

Isobel, overhearing that tête-à-tête, stayed well out of that discussion. Indeed when Cora returned and not wanting to be too much interfering, she made to move to stay with Matthew at Downton.

Isobel had never stayed very long at the big house. But being there alone with her son allowed her to get to know him in this environment he now considered his own. How he had changed from the awkward boy, so reflective and introverted, to a rebellious yet ambitious teenager to the master of this large estate. How right it all seemed somehow.

His mother was down the hall in the guest bedroom. She was to leave in the morning even as he tried to encourage her to retire fully and spend more time in York. She insisted she had years left and that London kept her fresh and invigorated.

Matthew, on the other hand, decades younger than his mother, was more than glad to be away from the City and all the headache inducing workload of the Lords and his chambers.

Downton had become his refuge. His salvation. His home.

Except when the rush of loneliness came on him. The texting was not enough, Matthew knew, but for long stretches of the week, it was all he could manage.

"Only for a short time now, little girl." He said, soothing both the dog and himself. The roof repairs were finally in the home stretch and Mary's return was greatly anticipated.

The dog looked up and gave a quick bark as if she understood.

To Matthew's surprise Isis had grown seriously attached to Mary, following her around and sitting at her heel whenever she sat near the fireplace in the bedroom while nursing little Robbie. Matthew had observed that the dog gave the impression that she clearly regarded her role as a nurse or guard dog of the newborn and his mother. Even when Robbie's lungs squalled something fierce and Matthew about to tear his hair out with frustration over how to soothe the baby, the dog never let any of it bother her.

Mary, also to Matthew's great astonishment and pleasure, unconsciously attached herself to the dog as well. She would surreptitiously look for her and shrug in surprise when the dog was not present. As if the expectation of seeing her presence had become so welcome, so regular, that the absence was noticeable.

So both dog and master were greatly looking forward to Mary's homecoming.

XX

Matthew pulled back on the trigger. The jerking release action threw him back slightly. He always loved that sensation. The pressure of the gun action. The popping reverb. He squinted down the baffled range to see the target, solid black circle on a white background. The black circle's scoring rings showed his accuracy was within the bulls eye.

He had come to close down the range after the last of the monthly gun club meetings. The ritual of cleaning the weapons and enclosing them in their cases used to be a companionable one between Robert and himself. A bonding ritual they had both enjoyed.

Now he felt alone.

So he took to firing one last round. Just to put off having to finish the packing away by himself.

He frowned slightly. Shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head left to right to loosen his limbs up, and started to fire again.

Only then did he notice the shadow appearing in his rear sight. He put the gun downward in his fingers and turned.

Mary.

His breath quickened. It had been days since they had seen each other. The need he felt to touch her surrounded him and his body shook in anticipation.

He did not even realize he was not breathing anymore.

She walked towards him slowly. A mesmerizing smile dancing across her face. Coming to a stop in front of his body, she took his free hand into hers. With the other she flicked a stray blonde lock of hair that had flopped across his forehead. She licked her lips. He thought he would die from the image. He let out the intake of breath he had been unconsciously withholding.

"Hi." Her words, almost an afterthought given such an entrance. "Shouldn't you be wearing a safety headset and goggles."

He grinned back sheepishly. He had already packed them away and was too lazy to get them out again when he had made the rash decision to fire one last round.

So instead of copping to his inaction, his mouth twitched. "Hello you." They could feel each other's hot breath. Sweet. Sweaty. Anticipatory.

"I still cannot believe you've taken to target shooting." Mary said, shaking her head. Remembering the younger man confusedly holding the hunting rifle and missing the target by a mile.

Matthew smirked facetiously. His eyes, steely blue yet blurred and glistening as he gazed at Mary, twinkled. "Let's just say I find the control it gives me satisfactory."

"Control?" She said playfully in return. "hmmm…. " She went to take the gun from his hand. "I might have to sample that."

But he stopped her before she gripped the handle. "It's…" He gently removed her fingers. As difficult as that action was, from his own grasp. "It's not safe." And he moved her behind him to safety as he checked the cylinder and released the magazine. "Ok. It's unloaded now." And he turned back towards her. Putting the magazine with the half full cartridges on a shelf, he handed the single-action Browning Hi Power into her hands.

The steel gun with black epoxy finished grip felt unnervingly heavy in her hands. It had been years since Mary handed any rifle or gun. Similar to Matthew's memories, hers were full of remembrances of long walks with her father, in the days when he would hold shooting parties out on the Downton grounds.

She never took to it as he had wanted. Part of her rebellion perhaps. He saw it as part of their heritage. She saw it as shooting innocent birds. She remembered saying as much to Matthew. "I never know which is worse, the sorrow when you hit the bird, or the shame when you miss it." He had agreed. But had ultimately it seemed persuaded Robert to give up game shooting in favor of this target range.

"Can you teach me?" She asked spur of the moment. She had come looking for him at the house, and not finding him there, followed the sounds of the echoing weaponry down past the monk's garden. It reminded her of the first time she had seen him when first arriving back at Downton during her father's illness.

They had been awkward in the other's presence then. Still feeling the heat of passionate frisson between them. But not knowing what to do with it.

Now it was all different. They fed off each other's need. They possessed each other's desire. The love was soothing, warm, expected and anticipated.

His mouth quirked at the side of his lips. "Sure. Do you have time? Where's Robbie?" Although he loved his son as life itself, at this moment, he was more than relieved to hear Mary say he was safely ensconced in the arms of his two loving grannies at Crawley House.

"He'll be fine." The four month old had taken over their lives. Willingly. Lovingly taken over their lives.

But enough was enough.

She wanted Matthew tonight. Wanted his arms around her. Wanted the feel of his skin next to hers. Wanted him within her.

Wanted him.

They'd have to be careful. She was still nursing so she knew some particularly favorite spots for Matthew's hot tongue and piercing lips would be off limits, but she thought he'd like the warning to 'look but not touch.'

She held up the pistol. Looked down the front and rear sight.

Matthew had gone to get the safety gear. They both put on the protective soundproof head sets, setting them around their shoulders until the moment she would fire.

His arm came around hers. Slow and deliberate he sidled up behind her, feeling her rear end against his groin. He swallowed hard, but tried to concentrate.

"Lift it up." And he guided her arm and hand into the firing position. "Don't cock the hammer yet." He guided her finger to the safety spot on the trigger guard. "It will spring you back. You have to anticipate that."

She moved sideways to the weapon, while keeping it pointed down.

"Practice holding it." He steadied her arm and lifted it to a firing position. "Use the palm of your hand if you need to to pull back the slide."

He left her side reluctantly to go get a cartridge magazine. He took the gun, loaded the cartridge and handed it back to her. Mary lifted the Browning back up. She gripped with her middle and ring fingers tightly but not so that she vibrated the weapon.

Matthew's foot gently moved her leg forward. "Put your feet about shoulder wide apart and lean forward slightly, keeping your balance."

She followed the instructions, some of the memories coming back.

"Good." She straightened her elbow and gripped the weapon again. She lined up the front sight post with the top of the rear so that it was centered within the notch of the front sight.

"That's right." Matthew said as he angled to see what she saw from the rear sight. He put her head set on, fixing her hair in the back so that it would not tangle. He did the same.

"Bring the gun to bear on the target." He said. "Keep focused. Slide and release. Breathe as you fire."

Mary clicked off the safety and moved her finger to the trigger. When she fired it jerked her back and the pop reverbed around the chamber.

She fell back against Matthew's skin. Prickly and sweaty, his shirt clung to his body. She could feel his need grow against her backside.

"Not bad." He managed to croak out as he threw off the goggles and peered down to the target. "You might need some more lessons though." And he laughed as she gave him an elbow to the ribs.

"You distracted me." She lied. But allowed his arms to encircle hers. He threw off her goggles and head set.

"Good." His husky breath against her skin felt good. He took the gun from her hand and clicked the safety back into place. Released the cartridge and without releasing Mary from his arms slipped the gun back onto the nearby shelf.

"Should we go into the house?" He asked, even as he instinctively knew they both wanted to take each other within the confines of the range. The activity of holding the weapon, of firing it, aroused them both. The temptation was too great and they gave into it.

"Uh huh." Mary backed up taking him with her, affirming his instinct that she wanted this as well. "Here." Her voice, dark and on fire. She leaned back against the table at the rear of the range. Without thinking Matthew hiked her body up onto the table as he began biting and kissing her neckline. The slope of the nape of her neck beckoned him. She stretched it out sighing in contentment as his lips touched her skin. Her legs wrapped around his torso. His pinches and teeth bites spiking her arousal.

"Can we…" He asked, quietly, hesitatingly. They had refrained from sexual intercourse during the months following Robbie's birth. Her body, though, this evening stirred every fiber of his being. His thoughts begged her to say yes.

"Yes." She said as he grasped her lips harder with the affirmation. "Just be careful…" And he understood. His hands ran over the curves of her waistline. He took the hem of her shirt and moved to take it off her body. Their skin touched as he ran his fingers along her naked torso. He would be very, very careful.

Mary wriggled out of the yoga pants and Matthew threw them onto the floor. He took off his own shirt and trousers. She opened up her legs to him as she leaned back upon the table. Her thighs fell open to him. She put out her arms to catch him as he leaned down and entered her body. Pulling him tighter. Pulling him into her. She moved as he thrusted deeper and deeper. Little groans of pleasure became outright moans of need as he continued the action. His member, hard and fully enlarged, plunged into her. Driving him deeper with her mounting groans of contentment.

"Yes. Yes" She could barely formulate the words. It had been months since they had full sex. At times Mary feared her body would no longer respond. That she was made different by giving birth. That her body would be no longer her own. But now, with Matthew fully engorged and within her, driving to completion, she knew that was to be proven untrue. She felt every stab of pleasure, every anticipatory stroke of his body. She met his need and drove him on.

They locked eyes as Matthew came within the folds of her thighs. He slumped against her skin. He was sweaty and breathing hard. Her own climax, waves upon waves of pleasure rippling through her body, had anticipated his own. She needed him to continue so that she could feel every surge of gratification her body sought. When their breathing slowed, and he opened his eyes, she felt sensual, alive to every delight.

"I love you." She whispered as he bent down to catch his own breath. To collect himself and hold his body against hers. Shattered and complete. He shivered at her words. They meant all life held for him.

He kissed her lightly. Held her body and lifted her off the table to stand on wobbly legs as his arms grasped behind her waist and he held her up against him. "I think…" He said, placing her back down gently so that she could gather her clothes back together. He did the same.

When dressing, Matthew continued his thought. "I think we should get married."

Mary look up in surprised confusion. "I thought we were?" She said with a slightly sardonic grin.

"Now." He pushed his fingers against his temple. "Yes. Now. While we have the time." Nodding his head, the more he thought about it the more he liked the idea.

Now he just had to convince Mary.

"What do you mean?" Mary was now quite confused.

"We could go to the Ripon Registry Office this afternoon." He checked his watch. "Or give them a call to make sure they have an opening."

"Just like that?" She twitched her lips.

"Like ripping a plaster off…" He said off the cuff.

"You're comparing our wedding to tearing off a bandage?" Her eyes narrowed, but she was smiling.

He furrowed his brow. "You know what I mean. All this planning. Where should it be? Who should be invited? Who shouldn't be invited?" He needed her to want this as much as he did. "Look. This way we'll get it done with just ourselves. We've had the big wedding. We've done it their way. You don't want a big wedding either right?" And he looked at her.

That was very true. Mary had to conclude. "But to just go and do it…" She shook her head. "What would everyone think?"

"That we're mad." He grinned. "Which we are." He slid his arm around her waist. "Madly in love."

He kissed her. "Say yes to this. I'll make it up to them with a big party where we'll invite everyone in the village." His face, animated and sincere, was hard to deny. "I want to be married tonight."

"Yes." And he twirled her around and around as their laughter reverberated around the enclosed structure. "I can't wait to see Mother's and Granny's faces."

He grinned wickedly. "They'll love it. I"d have made an honest woman of you."

Mary scoffed at the antiquated notion. But one she knew her granny felt. "I'm not doing it for them." She returned his kiss. "I'm doing it for us."

"For us." And Matthew gripped her hand. "We have all we need. All I'll ever need."

"Yes." But it was hesitant again.

Matthew heard it. "What?" he asked, thinking they were now on the same page.

"What about Robbie?" She said. "We can't get married without Robbie."

Matthew grinned again. "Perfect. You're right! I'll go get him. Saying I'm taking him for a walk around the village. You meet me there in town."

Mary was contented. This would be their private ceremony. With just their child as witness. All the rest could wait. Their world, their little family, was all she needed. Without realizing it they had happened upon the perfect solution.

She just hoped everyone else would agree….

XX

Granny Violet's translation: where are the snows of yesteryear...
OK. That's it. With some indulgence towards my recent viewing of a certain movie in a certain city… I hope you liked it. I'll do the ceremony and its aftereffects next chapter!