Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, July 1917
"You're sure that everything is all right?" Cora asked, the concern in her voice clear even over the telephone.
"We're fine, Mama," Mary said. "Matthew was able to get home in time and we waited it out in the basement. Most of the attacks ended up hitting in the North End of the city, so St. James wasn't hit. What happened at Painswick House?"
"Rosamund was beside herself when Meade called, but everything is fine," Cora said. "Thank God that Matthew was there with you. I do wish you would come home with George, so that we can be more sure of your safety."
"That's what Papa said," Mary rolled her eyes. "My place is here with my husband, Mama. How could I possibly be so selfish and go back to Downton and leave Matthew here in danger? We are already lucky that he wasn't deployed to the Front. I won't be kept apart from him."
"Then at least think about sending George back here; the little dear," Cora implored. "I know you don't want to be away from him either, Mary, but please consider it. A number of children from London arrived in York after the bombings. More of them are being sent to the country, I understand."
"We can discuss it when we're back next month for the concert," Mary said finally. "I appreciate your concern, Mama, truly, but I must stand by Matthew, and our family should remain together as much as possible. I love him more than anything else in the world, and I can't just leave him to save my own skin."
"All right, dear," Cora said, giving up for the moment. "Let us know when to expect you and we'll have the car sent to pick you up. I'm looking forward to seeing what you think of all the changes around here."
"From what I hear from Cousin Isobel and Sybil, it's quite the transformation," Mary smiled. "Good bye, Mama."
Mary hung up the telephone and looked up as she heard footsteps approach.
"My, where did those come from?" Mary arched her eyebrow as Anna brought a large arrangement of roses into the library.
"Mr. Crawley had them delivered for you, Milady," Anna smiled, placing the elegant vase on the table.
"Did he, now?" Mary smiled, touching the delicate petals. The flowers weren't garish or too large. They were simple and elegant, and the deep red colour left no doubt as to her husband's intent in sending them to her.
"Mr. Crawley actually had pink and yellow flowers sent to all of the women here, Milady, with a note of thanks," Anna blushed. "It was very kind of him, though not necessary, truly."
"Nonsense," Mary scoffed. "We know that the past few weeks have been difficult for everyone, and he wanted to bring some cheer to the house. I meant what I said, Anna. If you wanted to go back to Downton, you are most welcome to. I won't hold you here if you don't feel safe."
"I could never leave you, Milady, or Mr. Crawley," Anna shook her head. "I know everyone thinks the countryside is safer, but I expect the Army won't allow London to be attacked again so easily, will they?"
"Mr. Crawley says they are strengthening the defences, yes," Mary nodded.
"Fight fire with fire, that's what my mum always said," Anna agreed.
"Well, go ahead and enjoy your flowers, Anna," Mary said. "But tell the maids that they shouldn't be writing any love notes to Mr. Crawley anytime soon. He's mine."
"Yes, Milady," Anna smiled, blushing as she curtsied and left the library.
Mary glanced over at the flowers once more, then turned back to the letter she was writing before her Mama had telephoned. She smirked to herself as she thought of how to show Matthew her appreciation when he came home from work.
Room 40, Admiralty Building, Whitehall, London, England, August 1917
"They extended the observation towers and they're going to set up watches further out into the countryside," Reverend Montgomery said, pointing to several spots on the map. "If they catch sight of the bombers earlier, they can scramble our own aeroplanes faster to intercept them."
"We're going to prioritize any communications that discuss the bombers and their strategies," Nigel added, looking at Matthew. "The whole area is on alert anyway, but if we catch a hint of anything, that could help."
Matthew looked at the map thoughtfully, glancing from the outline of London to the surrounding area.
"How are the spotters and watchtowers keeping in touch with London?" he asked.
"Through wireless," Reverend Montgomery said. "They've already strengthened the network and tested it out. If we see any of those German aeroplanes over England, we'll know."
"Good," Matthew said. "Hitting the capital in broad daylight is playing quite well over in Berlin. You can almost hear the laughter and bragging in some of their messages."
"I would expect so," Nigel nodded. "The actual damage and casualties were minor compared to the targets they could have hit, but it is a victory for them nonetheless."
"It's probably a matter of the threat being more effective than the actual damage at this point," Reverend Montgomery shook his head. "My brother has been taking his family into a Tube station at night in case of any attacks."
"Hopefully with each week that passes without incident, things will become more normal," Matthew said.
"Some good news on our side would help," Nigel said.
"Let's get back to it, then," Reverend Montgomery said grimly. "The sooner we can catch the Germans out, the sooner we can hit back at them."
Matthew turned from the map and went back to his desk, attacking his stack of papers with renewed vigour.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England August 1917
Mary arched her back and breathed out. She clenched her teeth to try and keep quiet, though her moan could not be stifled entirely. She ran her hands through Matthew's hair, her thighs shaking around his head.
"God!" she gasped as his lips and tongue swept across her again and again. She felt his fingers move from her breast down her side and across her thigh. She inhaled sharply in anticipation, knowing his intention and shutting her eyes as a familiar throbbing spread through her body.
Matthew pressed against her firmly and his own arousal flared as he heard and felt her release. He eased the pressure as she shook, his ego and pride soaring at being able to give her such pleasure.
"I think…" Mary gasped, swallowing and taking in air. "I think that you are making it very difficult for me to go back to Downton without you."
Matthew laughed, a low rumble that made her shiver. He kissed his way up her body, taking her in his arms as she tried to calm herself.
"I just can't spare the time, darling," he said, kissing her forehead. "I may be able to steal away for the concert, but I can't stay for the full three weeks. We're redoubling our efforts and combing over every transmission that comes through. I don't know if we're any closer to a breakthrough but I have to stay here and work."
"I know," Mary nodded, leaning over and kissing him. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Lady Mary, are you getting sentimental on me?" he teased. "I'd thought you'd be eager to rid yourself of your boring husband and get back to your country seat. Aren't you looking forward to having the attention of all those strapping young lads recuperating at Downton?"
"Don't joke about it," Mary said, nudging him in the ribs. "Besides, knowing that these same men were willing to proposition Edith speaks volumes of their standards."
Matthew laughed and kissed her again.
"I'll miss you, Matthew," she said quietly.
"Me too, my darling. Me too," he said, closing his eyes.
Matthew opened his eyes quickly as he felt her soft lips on his stomach.
"Mary?" he asked, lifting his head and watching her mischievous eyes looking back at him in the dark.
"If I'm to go without you for over a week, then I intend to get my fill, husband," she said sultrily, her hand reaching out and taking hold of him.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, August 1917
Mary sat at her vanity waiting for Anna to arrive. Her maid was always known for her diligence, so it was surprising that Mary was still waiting minutes after she'd rung the bell. Mary stared into the mirror at her reflection. She had settled back in quite easily and George seemed to be happy being back at Downton as well. The days were quite full, with Mary taking a regular shift in the hospital, catching up with Jarvis on Estate matters and spending time outdoors with George each day enjoying the warm weather. Though she was enjoying life at home, she could not wait to return to London and to Matthew in a few short days' time.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Milady," Anna said as she burst into the room. She set about her duties immediately, a curious smile on her face.
"Something amiss downstairs?" Mary asked gently.
"No, nothing of the sort," Anna replied quickly. "I was just detained."
"Then why do you look as though you've been made privy to a wonderful secret?" Mary asked.
"Oh, it's not really a secret, Milady," Anna shook her head. "It's just that William asked Daisy to marry him as he's being called away for duty in the Army, and she said yes. We were all quite giddy about it."
"What?" Mary exclaimed. There were so many surprises in that simple sentence. Had she been at Grantham House for so long that she had missed the courtship between William and Daisy? The affairs of the servants were hardly her concern, but she did pride herself on knowing all the gossip in the house.
"I was not even aware that William was old enough to be called up, or that he was chasing after such a prize," Mary said offhandedly.
"For some time now, Milady," Anna nodded as she braided her Mistress' hair. "I'm glad for William that he finally won her over."
"There is something to be said for persistence, I suppose," Mary smiled, her thoughts going to Matthew and his father, and the alleged rigours that both she and Isobel had put them through leading up to marriage.
"When is the wedding? I should like to attend if at all possible," Mary asked.
"Oh, I think they're just going to do something rather simple, Milady," Anna said. "They were going to head into the Village the day before the concert."
"Oh, that won't do," Mary shook her head. "I'll speak to Mama. I'm sure we can have Travis stop by and do something more fitting in one of the parlours or the sitting room. You and Mrs. Hughes can deal with trying to find a proper dress for Daisy to wear. Leave the rest to me."
"You don't have to go to such bother, Milady," Anna said, her eyes widening in surprise. "I'm sure they would be happy with taking care of it themselves."
"Anyone who is part of our House deserves our attention, Anna, including servants," Mary declared. "That's the way things will be run when Mr. Crawley becomes Earl, and so it shall be now while I'm here to do something about it."
"Thank you, Milady," Anna nodded. "I'm sure that William and Daisy will be very grateful."
Mary smiled as Anna finished with her hair and went to the dressing room to get her nightgown and robe.
"Well, if it isn't my favourite nurse," the soldier grinned, sitting up in bed as Mary approached.
"I'm not your nurse, Lieutenant Marshall," Mary arched her eyebrow at him. "I told you, I'm only helping out for a short time. I'll be going back to London next week and be well rid of you by then. Now, take your pills."
Lieutenant Marshall grumbled as he took the pills from Mary. He threw them into his mouth and took a long drink of water from the cup she gave him. He handed back the empty cup and smiled at her once more.
"There, now where's my reward?" he leered.
"For what?" Mary looked at him with bemusement. "You take your pills so you can get better, Lieutenant Marshall. It makes no difference to me whether you do or not."
"Lady Edith always gives me a kiss after I've taken me pills," Lieutenant Marshall said, lifting his eyebrows suggestively.
"Then you'll have to wait for her to start her shift," Mary smirked. "Her husband may allow her certain liberties in the name of seeing to your comfort, but rest assured that mine does not."
"Can't say I blame him," Lieutenant Marshall shrugged. "Look, Lady Mary, I'll be better in about a week or so, then they'll ship me back over to France. This could be your last chance to kiss me, so you should take advantage."
Mary huffed and looked down at the man. His words and his behaviour were quite uncouth, but she could also see sadness in his eyes. Rules of propriety were useless to these men when they were all resigned to dying within the following months after they were released from their convalescence. As improper as Lieutenant Marshall's conduct was, Mary did understand to a degree. Irrational or not, he thought she and her sisters were the last women he would ever see, and truly what did he have to lose in flirting with them if he expected to die soon anyway?
"Why don't you concentrate on getting better?" Mary asked, leaning towards him slightly. "And while you're at it, why don't you concern yourself with doing all you can to survive this War? Come back safe and sound and perhaps I will consider rewarding you with a kiss then."
"You…you mean that?" Lieutenant Marshall whispered.
Mary smiled sympathetically. "I'm a happily married woman, Lieutenant Marshall," she said firmly. "But if you survive the War, I will save you a kiss, a polite kiss."
Lieutenant Marshall grinned widely. "How about you show me exactly where this polite kiss will be?" he asked cheekily.
Mary rolled her eyes and swiped her thumb across his face. "There. Now you're due for exercises shortly so get yourself together, please."
"Yes, ma'am!" Lieutenant Marshall saluted crisply.
Mary moved on to the next bed, blushing slightly at Lieutenant Marshall's eagerness. Little did the soldiers know, but their catcalls and whistles and innuendo only made her miss Matthew all the more. She couldn't be bothered to become riled up at the boorish actions of the men under her family's care. They were all much more reserved around Sybil, mainly because Isobel rarely let the youngest Crawley girl attend to the soldiers alone. To her surprise, Mary had not heard any reference to her supposed scandal either. She feared that one of the men would make some vile remark that she spread her legs for him since she'd already done that numerous times before. Thankfully, no such horror had occurred. It was rather ridiculous, but Mary at least respected that the men leered at her because they found her attractive, rather than because they thought she was the kind of girl who would give in to their demands.
"Hello, Dudley," Mary smiled, approaching a young man reading a book.
"H—hello, Lady Mary," Dudley nodded politely. He blushed as he set the book aside and waited for Mary to give him his pills.
"Mrs. Crawley says you're doing very well, Dudley," Mary nodded as the boy took his pills and drank his water. "Are you feeling much better?"
"Y—yes," Dudley replied, handing back the cup to her.
"Is there anything else you need?" Mary asked.
"N—no! That is, no thank you, Lady Mary," Dudley said, blushing profusely.
"All right then, Dudley. Have a good day and I'll see you tomorrow," Mary smiled. She reached out and squeezed the boy's hand. He jumped slightly at the contact and stared at her with wide eyes as she smiled and turned away.
Mary shook her head as she collected towels and linens from two more beds and turned for the side room where they kept everything that needed to be laundered. Lieutenant Marshall had confided to her that Dudley had never had a girlfriend or even kissed a girl before. Dudley was obviously infatuated with her, and she found him adorable and harmless, but it was all so sad just the same. She thought back to a conversation she had with Matthew about soldiers and brothels and ladies of the night in Paris. She found such indulgences lascivious and wrong, but she had to admit that Matthew was right that when faced with the prospect of death, a desperate man could do anything for the touch of a woman, if only for one night.
"If I didn't already know that my son misses you desperately, I would try and convince you to stay," Isobel smiled, coming into the room. "It's as though you never left the Royal Infirmary, Mary."
"Oh no, Sybil's the nurse in this family, now," Mary shook her head, smiling at her mother-in-law's praise. "I'm just helping out while I'm here. It's nothing."
"It is the very opposite of nothing," Isobel said seriously. "These men, Mary, they're…well, broken, in many ways. I know that Sybil is well trained and Edith is trying her best, but neither of them have the experience that you do. Neither of them are used to this type of work – not only helping the men heal but also talking to them, listening to them, even giving them a bit of a shove every once in a while. It makes them feel normal, Mary, and there is no price that can be placed on such treatment."
"Thank you," Mary blushed. "I had a very good teacher back in Manchester."
Isobel smiled as they came back out into the hospital area.
"Have you heard from Matthew? I didn't know if he called Crawley House yesterday after I spoke with him," Mary asked.
"I spoke to him, yes," Isobel said. "He apologized that he wouldn't be able to come for the concert and he begged me to ensure you left on time. He said that the future of the War depended on it as he was useless at work not having you with him."
"He didn't," Mary frowned in shock.
"Perhaps not in so many words, no," Isobel smiled. "But I know my son."
"I don't know why my absence should trouble him," Mary said lightly. "He should be used to me being away from him, after what I put him through in the early years of our marriage."
"That's probably why he's so anxious for your return," Isobel nodded. "He knows very well what it's like to be without his wife, and he does not wish to relive it ever again."
Mary swallowed and looked down at the floor as she followed Isobel to the table where the pitchers of water were kept. She did not have any secrets from her mother-in-law, but she did not feel it was proper to voice precisely what her own feelings were on being apart from Matthew, or how desperate she was becoming to be back with him either.
"Now, Cousin Cora mentions that you'll be singing in the concert?" Isobel asked.
"Edith has trapped me into it," Mary rolled her eyes. "Apparently some of the singers who were going to come over from Durham can't make it, so if she and I don't perform something, there won't be any women in the show."
"Well we can't have that," Isobel smiled wryly.
"No, Heaven forbid that the men should merely be entertained by magicians and jugglers," Mary smirked.
"I am looking forward to it," Isobel nodded. "It should be fun, and that is always welcome during War."
"I agree," Mary said. She kept her thoughts on the type of fun she would be having once she returned to London to herself.
"Congratulations, William. Congratulations, Daisy," Cora smiled at the two servants.
"Thank you, Your Ladyship," William bowed low.
"Thank you, Your Ladyship. It was ever so nice for you to do this for us," Daisy added.
Cora smiled as the newlyweds moved on to speak with Carson and the other servants.
"They look so sweet together," Sybil smiled, watching them.
"It's a shame that he's been called to War," Edith said. "He's so young."
"It was only a matter of time, sadly," Cora said. "I do hope he takes care of himself. I hate to think of any of the servants not coming back to us."
"So far, they're all still alive," Mary said. "We should be grateful for that, at least."
"We'll keep him in our prayers and hopefully this War will end soon and he'll be back," Sybil said.
"Yes," Mary said, watching Daisy shyly eating a piece of cake given to her by William. "Let's pray that someone will watch over young William."
"That's it. We're up!" Edith whispered.
"Is anyone going to announce us?" Mary asked, looking over at her.
"Yes, you are," Edith said, walking briskly down the aisle and going to the piano.
"Of course," Mary rolled her eyes. She squeezed Sybil's hand, then got up from her chair. She rolled her eyes as a few whistles came out from the crowd as she walked. Reaching the front of the room, she turned around and looked out over the audience, the men looking back at her expectantly.
"Most you won't know how rare it is to see my sister Edith – Lady Strallan – and I putting together a double act," Mary announced.
"I'd pay good money to see that!" someone said a bit too loudly.
Cora frowned in the direction of the unknown heckler.
"But in wartime," Mary continued. "We – like all of you – have more important things to worry about than petty matters of the past. So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the Crawley sisters."
Cheers and applause rang out across the room, the soldiers responding far more loudly than Cora, Violet, Isobel or Sybil.
"I know this must seem terribly rude to you, but they don't mean anything by it," Isobel whispered to the Dowager Countess.
"They mean a great deal by it," Violet frowned. "But thankfully everyone is well aware that nothing will ever come from their efforts."
"I think that Edith and Mary, and even Sybil, should be commended for their patience and restraint. I know it's not what you would want for them, but they all do very good work despite the…enthusiasm…of the men," Isobel said.
"Oh, there's no need to glorify any of it," Violet huffed, sharing a glance with Cora before looking back up at Mary. "Edith and Mary are hardly the first women to ever be objectified in this house."
Isobel blinked in surprise at Violet's comment, then turned to the front of the room as Edith began playing the piano.
'Sometimes, when I feel bad, and things look blue…'
Mary's voice was beautiful and floated across the room. She sang easily, smiling as she went through the verse. When she reached the chorus, she nodded towards Carson and he cleared his throat and began to sing, signalling everyone else in the room to join in.
'If you were the only girl in the world, and I were the only boy…'
Mary looked from one face to another, keeping the tune as she watched the soldiers smiling back at her. She was genuinely glad to be able to give them some enjoyment, even for a short few minutes. There were soldiers in wheelchairs, soldiers with bandages about their heads, soldiers with their arms in slings and their legs in casts. Sitting for a simple concert was a privilege in these days of War, and if she could make this brief time that many of them were able to spend outside of a hospital bed memorable, she was proud to do it.
'We could go on loving in the same old way…'
Mary nodded as Edith played a short interlude. The room fell silent, waiting for Mary to take up the next verse by herself.
She never got the chance.
'A garden of Eden just made for two...'
Mary blinked in surprise and turned in the direction of the voice that interrupted her song. Matthew walked in from the side door, moving past Edith to stand next to Mary. He was wearing the dress uniform issued to him when he finished his training. The suit was spotless as he had only worn it once. Gazing at him in shock as he continued to sing, Mary shook herself as he arched his eyebrow at her and nodded towards the audience. She recovered and joined him, turning the song into an impromptu duet.
'I would say such wonderful things to you…'
The soldiers joined back in for the closing chorus, and cheers and applause greeted them when the song was over. Matthew clapped along, nodding towards Cora and Violet. He then motioned towards Edith, which led to another round of applause as she rose from the piano and curtsied to the crowd. Mary just stared at Matthew, still in disbelief that he was here.
"Come on, darling," Matthew whispered as he gently pushed her to move. "We're taking time away from the next act."
She walked down the aisle with his hand on her back. They sat back down, Sybil having already set aside a place for them to sit together. As they listened to a soldier giving a poetry reading, Mary reached her hand over and laced her fingers with her husband's, settling their joined hands on his thigh.
"You, Mr. Crawley, are a liar," Mary said, arching her eyebrow at her husband as he removed his robe. "You told me and your mother that you wouldn't be able to make it for the concert."
"Actually, Mother was in on the surprise, as was Cousin Cora, Sybil and Edith," Matthew said lightly, coming over to stand at his side of the bed. "So I'm not a liar, just a manipulator."
"Playing games with your wife is hardly proper behaviour, Matthew," Mary frowned, crossing her arms in front of her. She was sitting up in bed, trying to look as angry as possible, which was rather difficult given the playful curl to her lips.
"I didn't want you to have advance notice of my arrival, lest the soldiers be quite angry that I was coming here to steal away the object of their desire," Matthew smiled. "And truly, I didn't know if I would make it in time. I was only able to leave the office early given that it's a Friday, but in return I promised to work Sunday afternoon."
"Well, you can go back to London tomorrow on your own," Mary said. "I won't ride back with a man who delights in taking advantage of me in such a fashion."
"Oh, make no mistake, darling," Matthew said, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "I have every intention of taking advantage of you."
She stared as he revealed more and more of his bare chest to her.
"You presume a great deal," she said quietly, not averting her eyes. "You think you can waltz in here, warble a few lines of a song and be invited into my bed with open arms, do you?"
"I do," Matthew nodded, dropping his shirt to the floor and coming to bed. "Though you need not open your arms right away, darling. I rather enjoy when we wrestle."
Mary laughed out loud as he tickled her sides and kissed her neck. He pushed his leg between hers and moved his lips to her mouth.
"Haven't you missed me?" he asked lightly as she continued to laugh from his searching fingers.
"Yes!" she yelped, shaking and slapping at him in vain. "Desperately! Now, stop it!"
"Stop what?" he joked, stilling his fingers as he looked down on her with a grin.
"Stop talking and make love to me. Now," Mary commanded.
Matthew grinned, then kissed her firmly, humming happily when he felt her tongue push into his mouth. He reached down to the hem of her nightgown as she slid her hands past his pyjamas and squeezed his bottom.
With a firm shove that shocked Matthew, Mary turned her arms and chest and forced him on to his back. She swept her leg over his and sat across his thighs, smirking at him. Without a word, she raised her nightgown above her head and threw it to the floor. He gasped and reached for her bare breasts, stroking them as he looked up at her dark eyes.
Mary leaned forward, allowing him his prize. She swivelled her hips suggestively, then moved her hands down and deftly pushed his pyjamas down. Her eyelids fluttered as she quickly took hold of him and guided him inside her, smiling wickedly as he groaned from her touch.
Matthew forced himself to keep his eyes open as he watched her move above him. After several moments, he could not stop himself from responding, thrusting up with his hips as she pushed down with hers. As he watched her, captivated by her movements and her clouded expression, he had a fleeting thought that made him smile widely.
The walls at Downton were thicker than the walls at Grantham House.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, August 1917
"Excellent shot!" Lord Grantham said as Matthew sunk the last ball on the billiard table. Robert did not enjoy losing, but he sipped his whiskey contentedly in this instance. He and Matthew had played five games now and Mary had sat nearby the entire time. That she would be willing to be in his company for this long, and for it not to be due to a meal, was a decent step for them, and he didn't want to ruin it by being upset about Matthew's streak of wins.
"Well done, darling," Mary said as she lightly clapped her hands in appreciation.
"Mary, you did not warn me about Matthew's abilities," Robert smiled. "I assumed he would be more adept at football than billiards."
"He's adept at both, Papa, among other sports," Mary smiled, sipping her wine. "He frequented numerous dens of ill repute in Manchester, you know."
"Well, he wouldn't be the first Crawley man to do so, I'm sorry to say," Robert chuckled.
Mary smiled in understanding.
Matthew chalked his cue, preferring to remain silent. He was not particularly invested in whether Mary ever properly reconciled with Robert or not, but whether she cared to admit it, her relationship with her Papa was a source of strain for his wife, and so if there was any progress in their regard for each other, it would do her some good.
"Now, before Matthew wounds your pride even more, I need to steal you away for a word," Mary said.
Robert blinked in surprise.
Matthew looked at Mary and then nodded his understanding.
"I'll go up to the nursery and regale my sleeping son with tales of my victory over his Grandpapa," Matthew said. "Good night, Robert."
"Good night, Matthew," Robert nodded, keeping his eyes on Mary.
Mary waited until her husband had left the room, and the door was securely closed behind him.
"You have a request, I presume?" Robert said, finishing his drink and going over to the bar for another. "How can I help you, Mary?"
"It's regarding your footman, William," Mary said, watching him as he filled his glass, then turned slowly around to face her. "Will you be supervising his training at Sandhurst?"
"I'm not sure," Robert answered. "It was one thing to keep Matthew out of my group for the sake of appearances. A footman is a few degrees more removed, to say the least. I am saddened that William is being shipped out. A young man with his whole life ahead of him and a new wife shouldn't have to face such horrors."
Mary watched him carefully as he walked back to the billiards table, sipping his drink thoughtfully. Though the large table separated them, Mary felt oddly close to her Papa for the first time in a long while.
"Couldn't you find a way to help William, Papa?" Mary asked. "Once his training is complete, surely he could be assigned to a battalion that isn't in the mix of the worst fighting in France."
Robert looked over at her curiously. "Once again you have a strange view of the world, Mary. I may think highly of William and wish him well, but I don't control his assignment. I may be able to guide his training under certain circumstances, but I don't have any power over the Army."
"But you do have connections," Mary persisted. "And I dare say that now is the time to call in whatever favours we are owed. William is the youngest of the servants to go to War, Papa. Surely he deserves as much protection as anyone?"
"You're being rather vociferous on behalf of a servant," Robert noted. "I wasn't aware that you had any interest in William's fate."
"We all like him," Mary shrugged. "And besides, as his employer and benefactor, you have an interest in his survival."
"I don't know who you think I am to be able to move men around as though they were pawns on a chessboard," Robert said.
"I thought you were the Earl of Grantham," Mary said, arching her eyebrow at him.
Robert sighed. "I'll do my best, but only because you asked me to. I care about William, but I care about you more, and if this is truly important to you, then I will put my mind to it. Though, if I am not successful, I hope you shall not hold it against me. I can only promise you my effort, Mary, not the result."
Mary blinked at his declaration.
"Thank you, Papa," she said.
"Good night, Mary," Robert said quietly.
"Good night," she replied, turning and leaving the room to rejoin her husband and son.
St. James Park, London, England, September 1917
"It could be nothing," Matthew shrugged.
"But you don't think that it's nothing," Mary smiled.
"It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not in command," Matthew grumbled.
"It matters to me," Mary said. "And if command had listened to you months ago, perhaps that daylight bombing could have been stopped."
"You give me too much credit," Matthew shook his head, squeezing her hand.
"Well, don't get used to it," Mary smirked.
Matthew turned and glanced over at Anna as she pushed the pram. The maid was looking out across the park, the sun shining down on them.
"He's asleep," Mary said, drawing his attention back to her. "Don't stare. You'll make Anna think she's doing something wrong."
Matthew shook his head and smiled at his wife.
"Now, out with it," Mary instructed. "There's no one here but us and the birds, darling."
"It was a message sent over a month ago, but it was a typical report, similar to ones we've seen countless times before, so no one paid much attention to it. It was a summary of deployments and troop movements. Usually, we're well aware of where they're going so these reports become repetitive," Matthew explained.
"However…" Mary prodded him.
"However in this one they mentioned that two sailors were executed and others were imprisoned at a shipyard in Wilhelmshaven, on the North Sea. There were no details or explanations, just the fact that it happened," Matthew continued.
"And?" Mary asked.
"Well, soldiers aren't executed by their own Navy unless they do something very wrong, such as attempt to desert, or revolt," Matthew said.
"And you think that's what happened there?" Mary asked.
"Yes," Matthew nodded. "There's no reason to report such incidents to other bases and embassies unless the Germans want to send a very specific message to their forces. It's a demonstration of power, meant to deter any others who may have thoughts along the lines of what those two unfortunate men shared."
"But why would anyone in the German Navy want to revolt? The papers all claim that the Germans defeated us at Jutland," Mary said.
"Well, there's mixed views on that now, but you're right. What possible reason would anyone have for opposing their superiors, unless they believe that the War isn't going well for them?" Matthew said.
"Do you think that they're becoming disillusioned?" Mary asked.
"It's impossible to know for certain," Matthew said. "But, if members of the German Navy are revolting, and the government feels it necessary to send a message so no one else follows suit, it may mean that morale is lower amongst the enemy than we thought. It may mean they are on the verge of giving up."
"Which would end the War," Mary said, nodding at his analysis.
"Possibly, yes," Matthew said, squeezing her hand and looking across the park at Anna pushing George along the path. "We may be closer to victory than we realize."