Previously:
London Suite, Shangri-La Hotel, London, England, December 2015
"Now, where are you taking me on this getaway that you have planned for us?" she asked.
"You'll find out this weekend. Pack light," he replied cheekily.
"And the weather?" she asked.
"Hot. Delightfully hot. Bring a bikini, several in fact," he smirked.
"I'm allowed to pack my own?" she joked. "I thought you would have bought some balls of string instead."
"Now there's an idea," he smiled, kissing her and sliding his tongue past her lips.
"I'm still prepared to honour our bet, you know," she said, closing her eyes as he kissed the sensitive spot under her ear, then along her neck, his hands sliding between them to pull the tie of her robe loose.
"What bet is that?" he asked, pulling part of her robe to the side so he could kiss her bare shoulder.
"Mmm, that you get to decide where we're going, and that I won't complain or object, to anything," she said as one of his hands settled on her breast.
"Oh, yes, that…" he said thickly, kissing her neck again.
"I'll do whatever you tell me to, Matthew," she whispered, leaning forward to whisper sultrily in his ear.
He pulled back and looked up at her with dark eyes. "Will you really?" he asked.
She smirked and nodded. "Anything you want," she said, arching her eyebrow.
"Well, then let's consider ourselves on vacation," he said, reaching up and sliding her robe off her shoulders and down her arms.
Mary laughed huskily as he turned her over on to her back and opened the rest of her robe.
Chapter 36:
Private Penthouse Suite, Crystal Serenity Luxury Cruise Ship, Lautoka, Fiji, December 2015
"The spa is wonderful," Cora said into the telephone, smiling as she looked out from their private balcony across the crystal blue waters. "We'll be in Australia next week, which I'm looking forward to. Robert has friends in Sydney that we haven't seen in ages."
Robert came out to the balcony and hugged her from behind. He kissed her bare shoulder, then stepped away and took a deep breath of the fresh air. His legs were a bit weak, still tired from the tour of the markets and sugar cane fields where they'd spent most of their day. Life on the cruise was remarkably simple, he had to admit. Their every need was provided for, the luxury service at a level that even Carson would appreciate. He and Cora had traveled to countries they didn't even know existed over the past months. Kiribati. Western Samoa. Vanuatu. He was looking forward to Australia and being somewhere more familiar, but he found he enjoyed these exotic locations far more than expected. Really, the past few months had gone far better than he thought they would before they left London.
"It's really been a lovely adventure," Cora laughed, still talking on the phone. "It's been wonderful and we still have months left. I expect it will be quite nice to come back during the Spring. It'll be as though we skipped the entire English winter."
Robert sighed, then took a sip of water. He frowned slightly, the familiar bitterness of resentment and regret still tugging at him as he turned towards Cora.
"Darling, give him here," he said, holding out his hand. "Let's get this over with."
Cora looked at him pointedly, a slight smirk on her lips.
"All right, I'll give you over to Robert," Cora said into the telephone, still looking at her husband. "We'll speak to you soon. Good luck!"
She handed the phone to her husband. Before she released it to his grip, she leaned in and kissed him quickly.
"Be nice," she said firmly.
"Or what?" he scoffed.
"Or I won't be nice to you when you get off the phone," she said pointedly, arching her eyebrow.
He blinked in surprise, his mouth falling open as she turned and sashayed back into the suite. He swallowed shakily, then took a deep breath before bringing the phone up to his ear.
"Matthew, hello," he said crisply.
London Suite, Shangri-La Hotel, London, England, December 2015
There was probably nothing more unladylike than a hangover. Perhaps certain behaviour was considered worse by comparison – being known as a gossip or a slut, for example – but a hangover encompassed all of that. Proper ladies did not experience hangovers because proper ladies did not drink to excess, or so Society was led to believe. In the sad event that proper ladies did drink too much and did end up with a hangover, or perhaps more accurately, if proper ladies were caught having a hangover, well, then Society would assume they were capable of all manner of depravity – loose tongues and loose morals among them. No, a hangover was the harbinger of all manner of sins, and so if one could not avoid them, then one certainly had to hide them.
Mary blinked her eyes and groaned, her hand coming to her forehead in a desperate attempt to quell the pounding behind her temples. Of course she had drank a lot last night. A Citibank party was never a tame one. However, she did not recall waking up feeling so horribly before.
Matthew was off doing laps in the pool or working out at the gym or something. He had woken up at his usual time and left her sound asleep. He hated waking up early as a general rule, particularly on a Saturday, but this was their last day in London before flying off on their trip and he had an itinerary to keep to, the first item being getting his workout done so he could get on with the rest of his day. He was infuriatingly diligent about such things, Mary had long ago decided.
She turned on to her back and looked up at the ceiling, trying to focus her vision. If she wanted to, she could sleep in until it was literally time to leave for the airport. Matthew would bother her about it, but would pack a few things for her, and she expected she could just buy whatever she needed at whatever destination he was taking her to, besides. It wasn't vital that she wake up. She had nothing planned for today except packing her suitcase. She had already cleared her weekend, turned on her 'out of office' email and voicemail auto-replies, and instructed all of the Crawley Group staff that she wasn't to be disturbed for anything short of the Apocalypse; and even in that case, they were to tell Anna and she would get in touch with her. The way Mary was feeling at the moment, she wasn't going to leave the hotel suite, even if she did have anything to attend to.
It wasn't as though Matthew would begrudge her checking her email or taking calls, or attending to other matters, even while they were on vacation, but she was determined to leave the rest of the world behind and focus on him for the next week. This was their first trip together. She didn't count Abu Dhabi – that as for business. Her promise to him was that they could take a trip, he could plan it, and she wouldn't object to anything. She was determined to fulfill her end of the bargain, especially after last night.
She closed her eyes, the darkness helping to ease her headache a small bit as she recalled all that had happened. There was nothing that she should feel ashamed about. She had hosted Henry and the rest of the Citibank group and it all had been a huge success. Henry had been his usual self – flirting with her, staring at her body, sometimes with very little subtlety, and of course that brazen stunt of picking her up in his arms to pose for the paparazzi. She hadn't invited him to do any of that, or encouraged him, and Matthew understood that. It was just part of her role. Henry was harmless. He was just a bit more forward than most of her admirers, was all. Yes, she could have discouraged him, or told him off, but at best it would have hurt Henry's ego, and at worst, it would have caused a scene in front of some high paying and influential clients. Henry didn't have a chance with her, and Matthew trusted her, so there was no need to be rude. As President of Crawley Group now, she had to be even more concerned with their image and brand. They sold fantasies and excess, and it was her job to emulate that, particularly when hosting a private event for one of the biggest banks in the world.
Sighing resignedly, she opened her eyes and glanced around the bedroom. Yes, being President of Crawley Group apparently required that she ignore her boyfriend to laugh and smile at a host of other men.
With great effort, she rolled over and sat up, managing to get her feet on the carpeted floor as the room spun all around her. She steadied her hands on the mattress and waited for her balance to return to normal, or something close to it. Eventually she was able to stand up, retrieve her robe and make her way to the bathroom.
Red tinged eyes greeted her as she leaned on the counter and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was all over the place, her skin pale and her lips swollen. She ran the water and doused her face several times, soaking a facecloth and scrubbing her skin. After that, she looked alive, at least. As she reached for her toothbrush, her robe parted slightly and she caught sight of a discoloured mark on her bare breast.
Even in her hungover state, she couldn't help but smile wryly and arch her eyebrow at that, closing her robe tight once more. Yes, she had been rather unkind to Matthew last night, but he had taken his reparations from her willing body after they came back to the hotel suite. The love mark on her breast and the soreness between her legs was testament to that. She imagined him getting out of bed earlier and smirking wickedly at the sight of her – lying naked, hair dishevelled, passed out from their lovemaking with his mark upon her.
She closed her eyes and leaned on the marble counter as the throbbing behind her temples returned. It wasn't what she wanted exactly – to barter sex as an apology for her behaviour towards him. This trip was well-timed. With the two of them out of London and alone together, they could settle into their familiar routine without any distractions or interruptions. She knew wherever they went would involve comfortable walks in good weather, swimming, delicious food and delightful conversation. She didn't even need the trip to be anything exciting, just a nice escape for the two of them to spend time together without having to worry about her father, or Crawley Group, the appeal, or threats from their rivals. A chance for her to remind him that she was just as devoted to him as he was to her.
She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, blinking several times as she reached for a brush and tried to do something with her hair. She smiled as she thought of their trip, her confidence returning. This would be a chance for her to remind him that no matter what her professional image was, the real Mary, his Mary, was entirely different.
Southwark Cathedral, Southwark, London, England, December 2015
"Robert, how are you?" Matthew asked nervously, glancing out his car window at the old cathedral. He didn't know what had brought him here this morning. He knew he needed a quiet place to make his phone call, and that he couldn't risk making the call from his hotel suite while Mary was asleep. He had his car brought up with the idea of going to one of the casinos and making the call from his office, but something stopped him. It was probably fear of being interrupted or bothered with business, and business was the last thing he wanted to think of now. It was also likely a need deep within him to find neutral ground, a place that wasn't linked to Crawley Group or even to the Crawley family. He had driven along the River Thames while he spoke to Cora, and when she put Robert on, he pulled over and parked in front of the cathedral, the sight of the old church soothing him somehow. There was a metaphor standing before him in a way, a religious site that had lasted for over 1,000 years, bombed severely during World War II, and still standing proudly today.
"I'm well, thank you," Robert said crisply, his voice loud and clear. At least his mobile had excellent call reception here, Matthew thought, staring at the viewscreen of his car and seeing he had full bars. "How are you?"
"I'm well," Matthew said plainly. "Erm, Mary and I are taking a trip. We leave later this evening. It's a bit of a surprise that I've organized for her."
"Ah, well that should be enjoyable for her. You're very good at surprises," Robert replied.
Matthew was glad that they weren't on a video call as he rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling of the car.
"Yes, well it will be nice to get away and disconnect a bit," he said finally, trying to keep his tone pleasant. "Cora says you're enjoying the cruise."
"We are, yes," Robert admitted. "We've been getting a bit out of hand with all the souvenirs and knickknacks we've been collecting. She even bought a sari here in Fiji today, if you can believe that."
Matthew laughed politely.
"What do you want, Matthew?" Robert asked, cutting to the chase. "Our emails are descriptive enough about how our trip is going. You're calling us early in the morning on a Saturday. Clearly there's a reason."
Matthew frowned, but quickly composed himself.
"I expect you know," he said.
"I expect that you're not calling to apologize, not months after the fact," Robert said.
"No," Matthew said, barely keeping his voice neutral.
A lengthy pause set in as neither man wanted to speak next.
"I'm Mary's father. I think I deserve to hear you say it out loud, don't you think?" Robert said finally.
"I'm not asking for your permission, Robert," Matthew said.
"No, of course you're not," Robert said, huffing slightly. "Why start now?"
"If Mary accepts me, I would hope you would be happy, at least for her, and so I wanted to call you and Cora first, so that you were aware," he said.
"As a courtesy," Robert finished.
"Yes," Matthew agreed.
"Well, you've called, and we've spoken. I'm aware. If you have nothing to ask, then that's it, isn't it?" Robert said.
"Will you be happy, for Mary?" Matthew asked.
"Does it matter?" Robert retorted. "Whether I am or not won't stop you, and I suspect it won't stop her, so it's quite irrelevant how I feel, isn't it?"
"Just because your feelings aren't determinative of what I will do doesn't mean I don't hold them in consideration," Matthew replied, his annoyance rising. "And I know it will mean something to Mary."
"My feelings…" Robert repeated.
"Yes," Matthew said.
"Matthew, for whatever it is worth, I am concerned. I am concerned about you, and this has nothing to do with business. You love Mary, I know that. You will honour her and be true to her, of that I have no question. You will not hesitate to give her the world, and devote yourself to her happiness. There has never been any doubt in my mind about how you feel about her. I saw it when you were teenagers, and nothing has changed," Robert said.
"But?" Matthew offered carefully.
"But marriage is about far more than that," Robert continued. "Marriage is a partnership, a give-and-take where both people support each other, where they are better together than they would be on their own."
"And you don't think that Mary and I meet that description?" Matthew asked, frowning at the viewscreen.
"I believe your relationship with Mary is heavily tilted in her favour," Robert said. "You cater to her. You are supportive to a fault. All you want to do is make her life easier, with no concern for yourself. That isn't marriage, Matthew. For now, you're happy if Mary is happy, but what about next year, and the year beyond that? Five years from now? Ten years from now? If you devote yourself to Mary's happiness, even at the expense of your own, you lose yourself in the process, regardless of your intentions. I believe that the reason you behave this way is because you're afraid to lose her if you were to deny her anything. What happens one day when you realize that you have devoted yourself to her for the majority of your marriage and you're known more as Mary's husband than you are as Matthew Crawley? Or worse yet, what if you gradually grow to hold the fact that Mary does not support you to the same degree that you support her against her?"
"You think I'll leave her?" Matthew asked incredulously.
"I don't know what you'll do, Matthew, or what she would do, should either of you come to understand that marriage is not what you expected," Robert said. "You wanted to know my feelings, and there they are. You don't need my permission, but I would give it to you if you asked for it, because I know that Mary would be happy with you. You don't need my blessing, but you have it nonetheless, as I do believe you are right together, for now. However, I am concerned, and I expect I will continue to be concerned."
Matthew stared at the monitor, trying to understand the Earl's words.
"Matthew?" Robert asked after moments of silence.
"Yes," Matthew replied. "Thank you, Robert, for your views. Good night."
"Good night," Robert answered succinctly and hung up the call.
Matthew slumped back in his seat. He turned his head and looked out at the old cathedral, staring vacantly as his mind worked.
Crockfords Casino, Mayfair, London, England, December 2015
"Now, the next order of business is the ICE Totally Gaming Conference in February," Anna said, scrolling through her tablet screen. "We've already got all of our machines installed for the new expansion area, but we may want to upgrade what we've got in the current space. William, Mr. Crawley wants you to attend and prepare a presentation for management on the different slot machines and currency processing equipment that you think might be worth our taking a look."
"Really?" William blinked in surprise.
"Yes, really, Mr. Mason," Alex said, smiling at William in amusement.
"Erm…all right," William swallowed. "All right, yes, of course."
"We'll all be attending at some point," Anna said, glancing at Alex briefly before turning back to William. "However when it comes to understanding the new technologies and what not, you're better suited for that. I'll flip you the list of exhibitors that Mary was interested in and you can go from there."
"Right," William said, nodding a bit more confidently as he made notes on his tablet.
"Speaking of the new expansion, the soft opening is beginning of February, as you all know," Anna said, looking at the staff gathered around the boardroom table. "We've been getting a lot of good publicity in the build-up, the marketing campaign has been a success and we're going to be filled to capacity through to May it looks like. Everyone please be mindful that the press are going to be coming through quite a bit over the next while. We've already had a few reporters come through unannounced, and that will only get more hectic. Speak to your departments. Let everyone know how important this is. As exciting as the launch will be, there's a significant number of media and special interest groups that would love nothing more than for us to fall flat on our faces. They'll nitpick and criticize every little detail, even make things up if they have to, all because they don't want us to succeed. We'll need everyone on their best behaviour. Who knows who will be watching?"
She paused to let the message sink in.
"Alex," she said, looking over at him.
"Everyone should be especially careful around the customers," Alex added, looking across the table. "We wouldn't put it past any television network or newspaper to hire secret shoppers or imbed their own people, try and get a rise out of one of the staff so they can put a scandalous headline across Twitter or something. Tell your staff to assume nothing. We're passing that message along across all the properties."
"So, that drunken group out for a hen night, or those stockbrokers acting rowdy at the craps table may not be just another bunch of people getting a bit out of hand," Anna echoed. "They might be trying to bait us into doing something controversial or ugly, so everyone be on their guard."
The staff exchanged surprised looks, then nodded back to her.
"All right, if no one has anything else, that will be all. Thanks, everyone. Have a good day," Anna declared.
The staff all rose from their chairs and filed out of the conference room. William was muttering to himself, his fingers working quickly on his tablet as he walked briskly back to his office.
"You should be nicer to him, you know," Anna said, looking at Alex pointedly as they got up from their chairs.
"I am nice to him," Alex protested. "I just want him to lighten up a bit. He should see these tasks as a chance to shine, not as something to be afraid of, or avoided."
"He's just nervous and scared, is all. He wants to do well by the both of you. He idolizes you, you know, you and Mr. Crawley," she smiled, walking out of the boardroom ahead of him.
"Lord knows why," Alex shrugged, following her to her office. "That was a rather productive meeting."
"It did go well, didn't it?" she agreed, smiling smugly as she sat down at her desk. "I was a bit afraid to be the chair with all the department heads attending but I didn't do too badly."
"You were great," he chuckled. "I thought I was watching a Vice-President at work."
"Stop it," she frowned. "That's not even remotely possible."
"Why not? Lady Mary's been promoted and her old position is open. You said yourself that she's busier now dealing with the bigger picture, overseeing all of the company, rather than just focusing on Crockfords and The Colony Club. You're already taking on more responsibility," Alex explained.
"I'm not asking Mary for a promotion, if that's what you're suggesting," she said. "My title doesn't matter. I know that she relies on me, and that's what's important."
"I'm not saying you need a promotion, even though you deserve one," he replied. "I'm just saying that I think you've been handling your changed role quite brilliantly since Lady Mary became President, and you should be proud of that."
She smiled as she moved her mouse to wake up her computer monitors.
"I am proud, a little bit," she managed, smirking at him. "It sounds stupid to say it, but life is quite good at the moment."
"It is," he nodded, leaning over the desk towards her. "Though something is missing."
"What's that?" she asked, blinking as she looked up at him.
"Lunch," he said playfully.
She rolled her eyes and went back to her computer.
"Give me ten minutes," she said.
"Ten minutes. I'll come and pick you up," he joked, turning and heading back to his office.
She looked up and watched him leave, the corner of her mouth twisting slightly as idle thoughts ran through her mind. Shaking her head, she went back to checking her emails.
Private Yacht, Somewhere off the South coast of Gran Canaria, Canary Islands, Spain, Atlantic Ocean, December 2015
Mary leaned against the railing and gazed out at the sparkling ocean. She lifted her head up to the sky and closed her eyes, the bright sun warming her face. Her lips parted in a wide grin and she hummed with delight as she let the scene wash over her. Blue skies. Blue seas. Warm sun. Cool ocean breeze. It was all absolutely glorious.
Opening her eyes, she turned away from the railing and made her way to the stern, her sandals padding along the warm deck. Arriving at the lounge area, she went over to the large bed set up beneath the sun and sat down next to Matthew.
She smirked as she watched him, his eyes closed, one arm back above his head and curled around the pillow, the other resting on his bare stomach. His white skin had a touch of colour already after having been here for just two days. His legs were stretched out before him, the toned muscles of his bare thighs and calves perfectly sculpted, even at rest. She wondered, not for the first time, if he had just recently gained such a body, or whether she just hadn't bothered to notice him in years past.
Biting her tongue lightly, she leaned over and kissed him, laughing as his hand immediately came up and caressed her back. When she pulled back, he opened his eyes and looked up at her with a lazy smile.
"Well, that's disappointing," he said, his voice entirely relaxed and languid.
"What is?" she asked him, still smiling.
"I was hoping you would be more European in your sunbathing, rather than American," he said, closing his eyes again.
"You'd prefer I go topless?" she said, arching her eyebrow at his smug expression. "Well that's not surprising."
"Topless, bottomless, either or. I'm not fussy," he said.
"And you have no issues with the crew seeing your girlfriend half-naked?" she asked.
"I highly doubt you'd be the first woman to go topless on this boat," he said. "Apparently Gigi Hadid and a bunch of her model friends had quite the do onboard last year."
"I heard about that," she said lightly, settling in next to him and caressing his chest. "Lewis told me all about it."
"He did? What did he say?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking at her. "Are there pictures?"
"None of your business, don't pry," she retorted, leaning over and kissing him. "And that's another reason I'm not going topless. Who knows what idiots are out there taking photographs? That's just what I need – 'Crawley Group President bares all while spotted cavorting with boyfriend in the Canary Islands'."
"Spotted cavorting with handsome boyfriend in the Canary Islands," he amended, smiling at her .
"Spotted cavorting with handsome boyfriend in the Canary Islands," she laughed, kissing him again.
"Spotted cavorting with handsome, brilliant, irresistible boyfriend in the Canary Islands," he added, pulling her on top of him and kissing her.
"Spotted cavorting with handsome, brilliant, irresistible and insatiably horny boyfriend in the Canary Islands," she teased, laughing as he squeezed her bottom and deepened their kiss.
"I'm good with that headline," he said, kissing her cheek and moving down to her neck.
"Mmm," she sighed pleasantly, turning her head and resting against him as they both closed their eyes. "This is wonderful, darling. Thank you so much for bringing me here."
"I'm glad that you approve," he said. "And we're miles off the coast. No paparazzi would dare follow us out here."
"So you say, until we see helicopters overhead," she chuckled. "I know we aren't celebrities, but I did notice a few people looking us over at the airport."
"They were looking you over, not me," he said. "And it's entirely possible they were just ogling you because you're gorgeous, not because they know you're the Lady Mary Crawley."
"Oh I don't know. I did see a few women swoon staring at that cute bum of yours," she joked.
"Yes, I'm very popular with the airport counter staff," he said. "Average age 60."
They laughed together, then Mary shifted into a more comfortable position, lying against his side with a long leg wrapped across his. She wasn't one of those women who worshipped the sun, although her bikini did leave quite a lot of her pale skin exposed. She was quite surprised and pleased when Matthew brought her to Gran Canaria, imagining that they would have a rented house on the beach, and would spend their vacation eating fresh seafood, swimming in the ocean, and visiting the many small villages around the island. It was a shock when he escorted her to the port and they boarded the large, luxurious yacht, big enough for a dozen passengers at least, but reserved for just the two of them, and the Captain and crew members needed to run the ship.
Having spent a fair amount of time on yachts and cruise ships, she was entirely comfortable being on the water. Their suite was so lavish that she couldn't even tell they were anchored in the water as she slept. The crew quarters were at the opposite end of the ship, and they weren't interrupted unless they called for service. It did feel as though they were in their own world, and the warm weather helped immensely, yet another contrast from London that helped her leave her busy life behind.
"What do you want to do this afternoon?" she asked. "Did you want to snorkel or take the Sea-Doo out? Or perhaps stay in?"
He opened his eyes and caught her mischievous expression.
"You've been rather accommodating ever since we got to Spain," he noted.
"With good reason," she smiled. "You've gone to so much effort to set all of this up and I want to show you my appreciation."
"Well, as enticing as that sounds, I'm afraid I will not be ready for any more of your particular brand of appreciation for a few more hours yet," he said, closing his eyes again. "You were so eager this morning that I'm still recovering."
"Classy," she said, slapping his chest. "So very classy."
He merely laughed and pulled her closer. Content to rest in his arms, she closed her eyes and allowed the sun and breeze to lull her to sleep.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, December 2015
Sybil made herself comfortable, tucking a pillow under her chin and stretching out on her stomach. Smoothing a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear, she reached out and pressed the screen of her tablet.
"All right, can you see us?" she asked.
"Yes," Mary replied, smiling back at her. "Thank you so much, both of you, for dressing up for me."
"Well, we expected that you would be wearing far less, actually," Edith said, grinning as she leaned against Sybil's shoulder.
"Very funny," Mary replied. "We still dress for dinner here, you know."
"Only you would insist on formal attire for dinner on a private yacht," Sybil laughed.
"I'm not like you Sybil, darling, I can't spend all day and night in a bikini," Mary teased.
"Your loss," Sybil shrugged.
"What have you been doing?" Edith asked. "You know, besides all the sex, I mean."
Sybil laughed.
Mary rolled her eyes.
"The weather here has been absolutely perfect. It isn't too hot because we're on the water, and we haven't seen a cloud the entire time we've been here," Mary gushed. "We have a chef, so all our meals have been lovely, and we spend the day going swimming, snorkeling, we've even done a bit of fishing, though we haven't caught anything yet."
"I cannot picture you fishing at all," Sybil shook her head.
"I'm actually quite good at it, I've at least gotten a few bites. Matthew's hopeless," Mary laughed. "He's out on deck giving it a go right now, though how he expects to catch anything at night, I have no idea."
"It all sounds quite relaxing," Edith remarked.
"So, is he going to propose?" Sybil asked.
Mary blinked in surprise. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at her sisters.
"No!" she said quietly. "What makes you think that he would?"
"I know nothing," Sybil promised. "I'm just saying that it's a rather romantic location, the two of you alone, out at sea, under the sun and stars…"
"You're sounding like Mama," Mary grumbled. "We're simply enjoying a wonderful trip together, that's it. This week is about putting everything off to the side and spending time with each other. I'm sure there's nothing more to it than that."
"All right, if you say so," Edith shrugged.
"I do," Mary replied. "Now, what else is going on? I saw something in my email about Papa and Mama arriving in Australia?"
Private Yacht, Somewhere off the South coast of Gran Canaria, Canary Islands, Spain, Atlantic Ocean, December 2015
Matthew frowned as he looked out across the dark water. Out here at sea, the star overhead were bright and filled the sky. It reminded him a little bit of Yorkshire. The stars were so much easier to see at Downton Abbey than at his childhood home in Manchester.
He looked down again at the small red box that he'd been juggling in his hand for the past few minutes. When he had first planned this trip, he had worked out every last detail, but now he wasn't so sure about what he wanted to do. Everything was going so well. Even though they had spent most of the week on the yacht and hadn't gone into port except for an afternoon of shopping and sightseeing, he hadn't been bored or lacking in things to do. They each had made a determined effort not to check their phones or go online for work, and he was impressed that Mary was able to disconnect so easily.
Instead, they spent most of their time talking, their conversations ranging from the silly to the serious. Earlier today they cuddled together on the hammock and had an hour-long chat trading the stupidest questions they could think of. His tended towards 'Who would you rather be? James Bond or a ninja?' and Mary countered with 'If you only had one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?' and other such nonsense. They actually took the questions quite seriously, although that was nothing compared to their dinner conversation. By the time the crewwoman had brought in their churros con chocolate dessert, they had agreed that it was better to attempt something and fail, rather than not attempt it at all, that Edith and Bertie Pelham would be dating until at least the Summer, and that one could not truly have happiness without knowing sadness. Conversely, they disagreed on whether doing wrong was in fact 'wrong' if nobody ever found out about it, whether it was possible that they were living in some version of The Matrix, and whether Violet and Isobel were truly friends, or were just too lazy to go out and find better friends.
The trip had been everything he wanted it to be, even better than he planned, but for this last task.
The small red box felt bulky and heavy in his hand as he looked out to the evening horizon. Weeks ago he had been so certain. The setting was perfect, romantic and special, just the two of them. He would ask Mary to be his wife, she would say yes, and they would celebrate beneath the stars and begin their life together.
It wasn't so much Robert's warning that now dissuaded him, or even Mary's concerns from months ago that he shouldn't rely upon her for his happiness. He didn't depend on Mary for anything. He was his own man. His life was fulfilling and busy. He had his work, and his cycling and exercise, United, a handful of other hobbies and pastimes. They were in a good place together now after the ups and downs of the past year, and it seemed natural to him that they should make their relationship more permanent.
But why did he want to marry her? Or more importantly, why did he feel he had to marry her now? They were together. They had survived Patrick's murder and Carlisle's blackmail, convinced Robert to resign and taken control of the company. Their relationship was strong, and they lacked for nothing. He knew Mary loved him. What else was there?
"You've given it up, have you?" Mary asked, coming up behind him and circling her arms around his waist.
"What?" he asked in surprise, surreptitiously tucking the small red box into the pocket of his shorts as he turned around and hugged her close.
"Night fishing," she explained. "Not going to catch a marlin after all?"
"Not tonight, no," he recovered, kissing her lightly.
"Well, come inside then," she said, smiling at him.
"I'll be there in a minute," he said. "Just thinking a bit."
"No," she said, taking his hands and leading him away from the railing. "No more thinking. No more philosophical questions. No more existential debates on the meaning of life or our place in the universe."
"Whatever will we do, then?" he asked, smiling at her as she led the way back to their suite.
"The only question I want you to ponder for the rest of the night," she said suggestively. "Is how many times are you going to make love to me?"
"That…is a very good question," he swallowed.
She laughed, stopping to pull him close and kiss him, her tongue swiping across his lips playfully.
"Darling," she whispered, her eyes dark and wicked. "Take me to bed and fuck me."
He groaned as her words lit his arousal. He kissed her hard, then scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way to the suite.
Mary turned the throttle of the Sea-Doo and picked up speed, cutting through the water. Earlier in the week, when Matthew had first taken her out on the small craft, she had clung to him desperately, almost screaming as he took turns far too fast for her liking. Days later, after some practice and encouragement from him, she could now drive one on her own, and she rather liked it.
Having left him back at the yacht working out in the onboard gym, she took the opportunity to get away and be alone with her thoughts. It wasn't quite the same as taking an invigorating and refreshing ride on Diamond, but it would do.
Sybil and Edith's had asked her about whether Matthew was proposing again, and the question was no longer just bouncing around Mary's mind, it had taken root and grown branches. She genuinely felt she was in no hurry to get married, but the question seemed to be unavoidable. This past week's conversation with her sisters wasn't the first time the subject had come up.
Mary was in unique circumstances compared to many of her friends. Even most of her former classmates and colleagues who were successful career women were already married or engaged. They were generally older than she was as well, but the same idea applied – once one was settled in one's career, marriage and family was the next logical step. Whether that applied to her though, was another question.
She eased up on the throttle and glided along for a while. It was obvious why her Mama and sisters wondered about Matthew's intentions. She suspected that even Anna and Granny were expecting him to pop the question at any moment. With Christmas approaching, New Year's after that, and Valentine's shortly thereafter, she felt as though she would be navigating a gauntlet of potential proposal opportunities.
If she was being honest, she had never actually wondered what her answer would be if he did propose. Any thought of marriage was usually quickly forgotten. There was no rush. They were young. Things were very good. Their relationship didn't need to be defined so precisely. They had just celebrated their anniversary a few weeks ago.
The counter arguments rang in her ears before she even had to think of them. What was Matthew waiting for? What was she waiting for? They'd known each other since they were children. They knew the best and worst of each other, almost to an extreme degree. Mary prided herself on never letting anyone get too close. Anna was her best friend, but didn't know all of her secrets. Sybil and Edith were her sisters, but she didn't confide in them completely. Not the way she did with Matthew. When she thought of her future, he was a part of it, no question, so why wouldn't she want him to be her husband as soon as possible?
She sighed and shook her head in consternation. Perhaps her confusion was a sign that they weren't ready for marriage at this time. That didn't mean they didn't love each other, that they didn't belong together, that they weren't in a fulfilling and strong relationship. It just meant that now wasn't the right time to get married.
Frowning, she gunned the throttle and turned the Sea-Doo around, determined to get back to the yacht. They had a few days left in their private paradise and she wouldn't let the question of whether Matthew would propose to her or not ruin their vacation. She expected that he wouldn't anyway, not yet, so it was all a moot point to think about it, or what her answer would be.
"What do you think about children?"
He blinked as he sipped his sparkling water, taking a moment to swallow and put his glass down before looking across the table at her.
"What about them?" he asked.
"What do you think about them?" Mary repeated. "Do you like children?"
"Yes," he said after a slight pause. "Who doesn't like children?"
"Of course everyone likes children, until they have to take care of them and raise them," she replied. "It's not for everyone, you know."
"No, I suppose it isn't," he agreed, nodding his head slowly. "Why? Do you want children?"
"Of course I do, someday," she shrugged, sipping her wine. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I can't imagine a reason," he said. "But then, I'm not you."
She pursed her lips as she looked down at her plate and went about slicing her chicken.
He watched her for a moment, then returned to his steak.
"So let's say you did want children," she asked as he was in mid-cut. "How many would you want?"
"Erm…" he said, pondering the question. "Five, maybe?"
"Five!" she sputtered. "Don't you think that's a lot?"
"I…guess?" he said, tilting his head as he contemplated the number. "But it would be nice. They'd be their own group, they could all play midfield at the same time in a 3-5-2 formation."
"And what if they aren't all boys?" she said, frowning at him before composing herself.
"Girls can play football too, you know," he replied easily. "Anyway, it's just a theory."
"I can't imagine ever having five children," she shook her head. "I'd feel terribly outnumbered."
"I don't think that parenting comes down to a ratio, necessarily," he chuckled.
"You'd be surprised," she said plainly. "Why do you think we spent so much time with Carson growing up? Mama and Papa couldn't handle the three of us on their own."
He laughed and took a bite of his steak.
"So if you didn't have five children," she said, interrupting his enjoyment of his meal once again. "Would you be disappointed?"
"Do you mean would I settle for four?" he asked, looking at her curiously.
"Or two, or even just one," she said.
"If my child, or children, were healthy, then I suppose the precise number doesn't matter," he said.
She nodded and reached for her wine glass.
"Besides, it isn't as if it will all be up to me," he added, taking another bite of steak.
"Have you given any more thought to the future?" she asked him as she ran the sponge along her arm.
"The future? In what way?" he asked, his hands sliding underneath the bubble bath and pulling her back against him.
"Just what you intend to do in the coming months or years," she explained, leaning back against his chest. Though the bath was the size of a whirlpool, she had settled into his lap once they got in, and was now busying herself with washing while he held her from behind.
"I have thought about it, actually. I think my time as Managing Director may come to an end later next year," he said.
"Oh?" she said, arching her eyebrow. "Have you decided to move on to something else?"
"Not yet," he said. "I have a few ideas on what I want for the next part of my career, though, and I don't think it involves running a casino, at least not all of the time."
"Ah, I see," she said curtly.
"And what about you?" he asked. "You've been President for a full quarter now. Is it everything you imagined?"
"It's even better," she said crisply, smiling as she ran the sponge along her shoulder and collarbone. "It's everything I could possibly want."
"Good," he replied, frowning at her answer.
Mary opened her eyes, the darkness of the suite taking a few seconds to come into focus. Try as she might, she couldn't sleep. Matthew's slow and regular breaths caressing the back of her neck told her that he had no such issues.
She blinked several times, taking mere seconds to wake up fully. Her mind felt like a jumbled mess, despite her best efforts to ignore the nagging feelings and questions clouding her brain. When she returned back to the yacht from her Sea-Doo excursion earlier today, she had pushed all thoughts of marriage and the future to the side, only for them to come roaring back over dinner.
There was something in Matthew's manner that had unnerved her. His answers to her questions were so nonchalant and offhanded, as though he hadn't even wondered about things like children and his career path. It wasn't as though she was asking him to bind himself to a specific number, or have the next twenty years of his life mapped out in great detail, but the fact that he didn't seem to really care about such things annoyed her more than she expected.
Maybe what was bothering her about the entire marriage question was that she didn't know where he stood, and tonight's conversations had not helped at all. She herself did not spend a great deal of time planning either, to be fair. A part of her was terrified of having children, both in terms of the pain of pregnancy and labour, as well as having to be entirely responsible for another human being. It seemed a very daunting challenge, one that Sybil and Edith were probably better suited for. At the same time, she still knew she would have children someday, and she wanted to have them, although five was surely out of the question. It was jarring to hear that Matthew had not paid the idea any real attention.
His laissez-faire attitude on his job was even more vexing. Of course she didn't expect him to work under her for the rest of his life. It was obvious that he did not aspire to be Managing Director of Crawley Group as the pinnacle of his professional life, but surely he wouldn't just leave without having a concrete plan of where he wanted to go? Why would he even imagine giving up his position if it wasn't absolutely certain that his next job was markedly better? The way he talked tonight in the bath, it seemed he was happy to just resign and see where life took him next. That was all well and good, but how could Mary be expected to commit to someone who wasn't against such a transient existence?
She slowly lifted his arm from her chest and slid out of his hold. Sitting up in bed, she glanced back at him, making sure he was still asleep before she silently got out of bed and fetched her robe and slippers. She imagined it would be cold out on deck, but she had to get out of the suite and think clearly.
After finishing up in the bath, they had made love, and as usual, it was very good; perhaps too good. Their conversations had not led to any concrete decisions before they just forgot about them and had sex again. In fairness, it wasn't as if she had asked him to make any decisions. Her questions had been hypothetical and he had answered them as such. Still, if he truly cared about the topics themselves, surely he would have devoted some actual time and thought to them before the urge to get her naked took over once more?
A cool gust hit her when she came out on deck, and she rubbed her arms as she walked over to the railing. The stars and the moon above cast a silver glow down upon her, a shimmering trail running along the water to the horizon. It was so peaceful and calm out here. She sighed in frustration.
"Oh, Matthew," she whispered to the stars as she gazed upward. "What the hell are we doing?"
She thought she was imagining things when she heard the soft notes of a piano coming from below the deck. Glancing over the railing in confusion, she blinked as a violin joined in and the music grew louder.
One by one, small lights on the railing lit up, moving in a trail away from her. She watched, frowning at the sight, then turned around as the lights cast a small halo around the deck where she was standing, joining the moonlight to push the dark shadows away.
'You tell all the boys no; makes you feel good, yeah. I know you're out of my league, but that won't scare me away, oh no…'
Mary blinked as she recognized the lyrics of the song that was now seemingly playing from above her head. She looked up, and took a step forward, wondering what was happening.
'You've carried on so long, you couldn't stop if you tried it. You've built your wall so high, that no one could climb it. But I'm gonna try…'
Her mouth fell open as Matthew came out on to the deck. He was still topless, but he had clearly combed his hair and put on a pair of pyjamas, though she wasn't paying attention to his attire. All she could see was his bright eyes and the knowing smile across his lips.
'Would you let me see beneath your beautiful? Would you let me see beneath your perfect? Would you let me see beneath your beautiful tonight?'
The song seemed to fade slightly, and she swallowed nervously as he came to stand before her.
"Matthew, what…" she began.
He shushed her with a smile and the caress of his fingers across her lips. His hand moved from her face down her front, shifting to her side and finally taking her hand in his and bringing it up between them.
"September 17, 1994," he said, his eyes never wavering from hers. "It was a Saturday. My parents told me that we were going to visit some friends of theirs in Yorkshire, so they got me up early in the morning, bundled me into the car and drove the two-some-odd hours from Manchester to Downton. I complained the entire time, I think. I was cold. I was hungry. I was tired. I was eight. 'Why were we going?' 'Who were these people?' Papa had no patience for my whinging and didn't even answer. Mother was more tolerant. She kept saying the same things over and over. 'We're going to see Robert and Cora. They're our friends. They have three lovely daughters that you'll get along with.'"
Mary laughed.
"When we got there, I was mildly impressed by all the land and wide open spaces, a bit more impressed by the big house that we pulled up to, and rather intrigued by the line of people who had come out to welcome us," he continued.
She shook her head at the memory.
"Robert seemed a giant of a man, and Cora was so elegantly dressed and sophisticated, but when I got to the daughters, something…unexpected happened…" he said, a smirk crossing his lips.
She rolled her eyes, smiling at him all the while.
"The youngest, Sybil, was clinging to Cora's leg. She was only two then, but was the cutest thing. The middle sister, Edith; she was four, and was standing up straight, trying to seem taller than she really was…but I couldn't take my eyes off the third daughter, the eldest. She was seven," he said.
"I was quite perturbed to have set aside part of my day to go out and meet you," she recalled.
"A sign of things to come," he joked. "You had a red ribbon in your hair and you wore a blue jumper, and you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen."
She smiled wistfully.
"Some people would call it a crush. After all, we had just met, to say nothing for the fact that we were merely children, and we knew nothing about each other. But from that moment on, no matter how foolish or juvenile it may sound, I loved you Mary, madly," he said confidently.
She pursed her lips to stop herself from grinning stupidly. Her pulse began to beat faster.
"You asked me tonight about children, and about my future, what plans I had, where I saw myself years from now," he said. "I know that my answers were not entirely pleasing to you, but there's a reason for why I didn't seem too concerned about any of that."
She felt her breath catch.
"We cannot know how much time we have, darling, especially in the world we choose to live in. We're very lucky, and privileged, to be in the position that we're in. So, I don't bother worrying about things like money, or my career, where I'll be living, or working years from now, or whatever. What matters, what's most important, above anything else, is that I get to spend my life with you."
Her pulse jumped.
"I love you, Mary," he said warmly, squeezing her hand. "And loving you doesn't make me weak, or take away from who I am, and investing myself in your happiness doesn't mean that I can't be happy on my own. I've been on my own. I know I can be happy, and successful, and have a fulfilling life without you. But that's not the life I want. The life that I want, the happiest, most incredible, most amazing life I could possibly imagine, doesn't exist without you in it."
She could feel that she was about to cry buckets and she didn't give a fig about it.
Still holding her hand, he got down on one knee before her. He brought his other hand in front of him, revealing a brilliant diamond ring in a small red box.
She covered her mouth with her free hand, her pulse leaping. There was still music playing, some other song, but she didn't pay any attention to it, her eyes focused on his smiling face.
"Lady Mary Crawley," he said. "Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
"Yes!" she exclaimed, the tears falling as she began to shake. "Oh God! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
They both laughed as he rose to his feet. Their hands shook as he brought the ring to her finger and slid it on. It was a tad big, but it fit well enough, the eternity band of white gold and diamonds seeming to make the large stone sparkle even more.
She didn't quite know the precise order of what happened next but she was in his arms and kissing him, then somehow he lifted her off the deck and spun them around, the tears still falling down her cheeks as she hung on to him and kept her lips locked on his. Eventually he set her down and with his arm around her shoulders they looked up at the stars together. She would glance down at her ring in wonder, then over at him, and back up at the sky, her eyes shifting back and forth, her mind scarcely believing it was all real.
"Just how long have you been planning this?" she asked, turning around to face him and placing her hands on his chest, her diamond ring feeling so natural on her hand resting against his skin. There was a giddiness in her stomach that she couldn't shake.
"Years, darling," he said, holding her by her hips and pulling her in for a kiss. "Years."
"Years. Goodness," she said happily. "I do hope I'm worth it."
"Every second," he said, kissing her again.