April 1920
"So…" Matthew stopped speaking to concentrate on nuzzling his wife's perfectly formed earlobe before whispering, "how long do we have before his lordship descends?"
They were laying down on their bed, a wool throw over Mary's growing bump. Matthew's right hand caressed her stomach, ever fascinated by the movements of the baby within.
"Florence brings him in around 4 so I can take him down to afternoon tea." Mary snuggled closer to Matthew's chest, his arm around her shoulder drawing her even closer. "George's new teeth allows him to love munching on the jelly scones but he gets it all over his face and hands. You'll have to watch out for sticky fingers."
Matthew chuckled lightly. "I can't wait. Mother said she'd be over from Crawley House to join us as I'm no longer under the weather."
It was unusual for Matthew to be home at this time of day. His work in Ripon took most of his time and Mary rarely saw him before he returned to get ready for dinner. But for the past few days he had been racked by headaches so intense he used the tincture of laudanum prescribed by his ophthalmologist and had spent much sleeping. Only yesterday did they subside enough for him to resume any kind of normal schedule. But Mr. Carter told him to take the Friday off and start again the following week.
Matthew had walked over to Downton Hall in the morning and then back to the house to join Mary upstairs. The headaches came and went recently without any sign of a return of sight. It was something Matthew refused to dwell on, not giving up hope that it might happen again, but needing to just get on with his life as it was now.
"It will just be the four of us. Papa's gone to a regimental dinner and Mama took the train with Sybil and Tom to London."
"She's seeing the specialist?"
"Yes. Dr. Ryder came highly recommended from Clarkson. From what I understand, though, even he can't be sure her condition won't continue into another pregnancy."
Sybil had wanted to consult an expert on preeclampsia and had traveled with Tom and her mother yesterday to prepare for the thorough check up this afternoon, having her own questions as a nursing professional on the disorder.
"It's a sensible precaution." Matthew cuddled closer, taking advantage of the last few minutes of privacy.
Mary, in the late stages of her pregnancy, usually had a lie down in the afternoon. She had spent most recent mornings with Robert working through the accounts together. Once on board with the ideas of retrenchment and modernization, Robert had proved to be more than willing to show the old dog accepted new tricks. Matthew couldn't have been more pleased. It made everything easier to move ahead. They had started with upgrading the electrics at the house, putting off the bigger decisions concerning overhauling the estate until Robert's solicitor had finalized the agreement that Mary and Matthew would become equal owners of Downton. Matthew had recommended an accountant from a London firm known to Joseph to help with planning the next step.
While Robert had agreed to hire Alec Stephens, he still wanted to move cautiously with regards to buying out any of the tenants. He insisted he wanted to speak to every one of them in person by inviting them over to the steward's office to meet with himself and the solicitor.
"Of course, he left it to me to make the arrangements by promptly taking himself off to his regimental whatevers."
Matthew had come to adore his wife's dismissive euphemisms.
"I mean it's fine for most but some don't have the telephones in yet, making arranging appointments most difficult. I wouldn't mind getting some fresh air by walking over to the cottages, but how would they react to Lady Mary Crawley showing up unannounced at their door?"
Matthew jested, "invite you in for a cuppa?"
He heard his wife's "tsking" sound as she gave him a playful swat on his shoulder. Getting more serious he said, "maybe if Miss Dawson came with you? She could explain the particulars and you can show the support of the house in endeavouring to make as equitable a settlement as possible."
"That's a good idea. I'll walk over with you tomorrow to the Hall and ask her."
"I'm just glad Robert wants to be prudent. I find that rather ironic given his former inclination to throw all his ready cash into some outlandish scheme on nothing more than an old boy's wink and a nod. Now if we can get him to move more swiftly on consolidation."
"One step at a time, darling…"
Florence rapped on the door which interrupted their conversation. Mary called out, "just a minute."
Matthew reached over and used the edge the mattress to guide his feet over the side and leveraged himself into a standing position. Reaching down to get his brogues, he fetched his stick and walked the few steps to the nearby chair where he sat down to put the shoes on his feet.
Mary glanced at the mirror and affixed a stray strand of hair back into place.
When both were presentable, she said, "Come in."
Florence opened the door and George let out a merry cry and scrambled out of her hands and ran into Matthew's waiting arms. "Hello little man." He carefully maneuvered the child into his lap.
"Hoshie…" George tried to say, flinging out his favorite toy, the pull horse given to him at Christmas. "Hoshie hoshie hoshie…"
Both parents translated to others that George was actually saying, 'horsie' in his fifteen-month-old way.
Matthew felt a whack as the wooden beast slapped accidentally across his face as George excitedly made "neighing" sounds. He tried to move his face out of the way but George continued so eventually Matthew decided to allow his son to stand between his legs instead. But at no time did he stop George's actions.
Florence took a step inside instinctively trying to control George from hurting his blind father.
Mary saw her and gave the nursery maid a knowing nod but said, "We'll be fine, Florence. Why don't you go and get your own tea?"
Florence understood. "Thank you, ma'am." She closed the door behind her.
Mary watched as Matthew indulgently allowed George to throw his arms about and screech in rising pitch, "Gooo, goooo, GOOOO!" while trying to move his face away when he felt his son's arms bolt in his general direction.
"Are we ready?"
Matthew smiled and, once George was secure in Matthew's left arm holding his horse in his clutches, they slowly made their way downstairs with Mary guiding Matthew by holding onto his shoulder while he leaned on the bannister with his right hand.
In the saloon, Matthew took his cane from Mary who held onto it while they made their way down the stairs.
Carson saw the couple and said, "Mrs. Crawley is in the library. James has brought in the tray."
Mary nodded and they entered the library.
"My darlings," Isobel said upon their arrival. "How's my grandson?"
"Chattering away," Matthew answered. "I'm not sure it makes any sense but, according to Florence, he now holds entire conversations between himself and his stuffed bears."
Mary waited as Isobel poured a cup of tea and handed it over to her. "I'm glad he's over the sniffles from last week. He was quite miserable."
"They can be little monsters at this age. Matthew raced around our back garden chasing butterflies and whenever he fell, which was quite often, he just bawled and bawled."
Matthew jokingly protested that he was sure he was quite justified in his tantrum as Isobel tapped her son's knee indulgently.
Isobel concluded with, "I can't wait for George to do just the same this summer."
Matthew said no to a cup, he was too aware of George's unpredictability to risk it. His son wouldn't budge from Matthew's lap, not used to having his father's complete attention at this time of the day.
"Speaking of the summer, Trevor's had the idea that now we've got a goodly number of residents at the Hall we should have a Sports Day similar to the one held at Regent's Park."
"That sounds fun."
"I know Joseph is itching to show off his new passion. He's got on with some Australians who've played around with adapting cricket for the blind. The Aussies had started with a tin can filled with rocks but now Joseph's got someone to fill a regular ball with iron ball bearings so the batter can hear the pitch."
"No more fencing?" Mary asked as she sipped her tea.
"That too. Indeed we're to have another session now that I'm feeling better. But you know Joseph, he's always got ten things on at the same time." He turned to where he knew his mother was seated. "Like someone else we know…"
His mother laughed. "Not at the moment. I'm home for a good while. Especially with the new little one on the way in June."
Mary unconsciously touched her stomach. The baby's kicking had subsided for the moment. "Next week will be a bit busy. We're having some guests Mama's informed me. My godfather Lord Merton is traveling to London and Papa has invited him to stay. I'm glad to say his son's will not be accompanying him."
"Wasn't Sybil destined for one of them?" Matthew was holding a plate with a sticky scone for George's consumption.
"Yes theoretically. Larry was apparently dead keen on her but I know she couldn't stand him. He hung about her like a puppy I remember. But a rather nasty, whinging sort of puppy." She shrugged. "Maybe he's gotten better with age."
"What about Lord and Lady Merton? Are they pleasant?" Isobel queried.
"He's a widower for many years now. I find him witty and charming. He claims his sons take after their mother so I gather it must have been a rather unhappy marriage as both Larry and Tim are impossible. One of them is in banking and the other is a diplomat of some sort."
"I look forward to making his acquaintance."
Tea ended in a relaxed atmosphere and Isobel returned back to Crawley House to catch up on her correspondence while Mary took George back to the nursery for his afternoon nap. Matthew waited for her in the monk's garden where they were to take a walk before dinner.
May 1920
Sybil held her daughter carefully. Sybbie had been putting on weight so her little cheeks puffed delightfully as she suckled on her mother's breast. She had a vigorous appetite. Sybil didn't do all the feedings as she had taken several weeks herself in recovery and had been very weak. But now she felt strong enough to do this morning feed and sometimes right before the infant's bedtime.
Mary sat nearby in the window seat overlooking the south garden. Tom and Sybil's bedroom was about to undergo some renovations as they had made the decision to stay at Downton for the next few years. Tom was swiftly becoming essential at Downton Hall and Sybil even had some ideas to begin a nursing station at the Hall as they had no doctor living on the site.
"Have you made any decisions on colour patterns?" Mary turned to her sister.
Sybil shifted slightly. "I've not put my mind to it. You're more the decorator. I'm not sure I care beyond getting rid of the stuffy Victoriana and moving it all into the twentieth century."
Sybbie let out several burps as Sybil gently tapped her back, holding the baby against her shoulder. "There there sweet one…"
The baby settled down in her mother's arms and closed her eyes.
Mary considered Sybil's wishes. "Everything is changing. There are all sorts of new styles using geometric and angular shapes. Chrome and mirrors. I read an article about a woman, Eileen Gray, whose designs have taken off among some of the London society hostesses. I'm regretting some of the decisions I made in our sitting room going with art nouveau. I think this room would look marvelous with a Duncan Grant rug near the fireplace and single piece furniture rather than a suite."
"And already my mind is wandering. I'll leave it up to you. We might not be here forever remember. I know Tom still wants to return to Ireland sooner rather than later."
Nurse Todd rapped gently on the door and, on Sybil's invitation to enter, she came in and took the now sleeping child from her mother's arms.
"I'll be in to check on her in a few minutes."
Once the door was closed again Sybil stood up and moved over to her dressing table.
"Isn't Tom happy at the Hall?"
"Yes. And grateful to Matthew for letting him take the time to write several articles for the Irish Independent of Dublin about the treatment of Irish soldiers at the Hall and St. Dunstan's."
"I know Matthew and Ian Fraser have had some backlash by those who want to have Scottish, Welsh, or Irish soldiers go home to their own military hospitals rather than be treated in an English facility."
"Indeed. Fear of anti-Irish sentiment has driven a lot of that. Irish soldiers in the war being treated more harshly and subject to more court martials than their English counterparts. Especially now with the tension of Home Rule some believed that Irish veterans would be thrown out whenever the facilities needed more beds. Of course, that has not happened here so Tom was more than glad to write up his findings."
The two women stood up. "The world is all topsy turvy. I know for the time being here is right for our family. Papa's come around to Tom and Mama and Granny dote on Sybbie. If I can find some useful work as well I will be well and truly happy."
"I'm glad." Mary hugged her sister. "We were all so scared for your health. So having you close is something we all feel passionate about."
"When is Edith arriving?"
"She said by seven not wanting to be later than Lord Merton's arrival. He's expected to be at Downton Village train station at 7:30. He'll spend the night and then go on to London."
Mary hadn't seen her godfather in some time as he couldn't make the wedding due to his government position during the war and he was away in France. So it would be good to catch up and introduce him to her family.
"I'm so relieved he's alone. Larry is such a boor. And did you hear he's getting married?"
Mary rolled her eyes. "Anyone we know?"
"No one of our circle. She's Amelia Cruikshank of Copley House. Probably just as horrid as Larry."
"You were right to throw him off. Despite all of my erroneous misgivings you've truly made the perfect match." Mary linked her arm into her sister's.
"It makes me so glad to hear you say that." Sybil's smiled, her eyes shining with love. "Who could've imagine we would end up like we have?"
"And never happier. I wouldn't change a thing."
Keeping their arms linked they made their way out into the hallway where Sybil turned left to go to the day nursery and Mary turned right to join Matthew in George's new bedroom. It was around the corner from Mary and Matthew's but further down the hall from the nursery so the infant's schedule wouldn't interfere with George's. His new room had a separate door to what would eventually become the school room. Both parents had agreed George would not go away to school until he was much older than many aristocratic parents who sent their five-year olds to a preparatory boarding school.
She had left Matthew with George playing with the pull string horse toy that George wouldn't go anywhere without when she went to visit her sister. Florence sat quietly watching father and child play.
Approaching their bedroom door, she heard her husband and son before she saw them.
"Neigh neigh…" Matthew called out. "Where is horsie now?" He was seated cross legged on the floor, a huge grin on this face as he cupped his hands around his mouth and cried out "Neigh…" once more.
"Nee ii nee ii…" George tried to copy the sound as he imitated a gallop around his father in a wide circle, pulling the wheeled horse toy behind him.
Mary watched them play. Never happier, she repeated to herself. So very happy.
July 1920
"How's the Sport's Day final arrangements coming along?" Matthew asked. He had spent much of the past two weeks either at work or with Mary and their new infant daughter, Elinor Grace. He loved everything about their new child. She was perfect.
So now he was catching up with the plans of Trevor, Gwen, and Tom the three managers of Downton Hall.
He read some of the notes typed up in Braille by Gwen and handed to him when he sat down at the conference table. "Robert confirmed use of the south meadow, correct?"
"He did," Tom confirmed. "Joseph wants to use that for cricket on Saturday and and the athletics competitions of the 100- and 800-yard dashes, shot put, cricket ball throwing, and rope climbing on Sunday."
"Cricket ball throwing and the true game?" Matthew asked. "Has Joseph finalized the rules for his blind cricket?"
Trevor laughed. "With some help of some Australians who've also been playing around with it. They've organized some basic guidelines adapting the traditional rules to our needs. He's arriving on Friday so he can tell you more. St. D's Sports Officer is also coming to help us out."
"Excellent." Matthew nodded. He knew Joseph was expected and that he had every hope of bringing Sam along as well, hopefully to start a choir. Joseph had taken up a position with St. Dunstan's as a lay minister hosting a Sunday service for those interested, fulfilling his hope to become as close to an Anglican priest as he could manage. Combining his faith with his equally evangelical zeal for athletics he was quite in line with Sir Arthur Pearson's philosophy that inaction led to depression and defeat of the mind.
"We've also got some family games as well," Trevor added. "Wheelbarrow racing for the wives of the blinded with their spouses being trundled over the course in the barrow and some races for the children as well."
"I hope the weather hold," Gwen said. "All our effort wasted if traditional English weather interferes."
"We can but hope," Matthew riposted. "How are we on advertising? Mary got her grandmother to mention it to her Garden Society and my mother's done her bit with the Downton Hospital. We have great hopes of a good turn out of the local community to cheer everyone on."
Gwen was in charge of publicity. She glanced at her notes. "Posters and banners have arrived from the printers in York and we've got some school children helping us out with putting them up. Announcements with the schedule of events will be in tomorrow's papers as well as Friday's. Bunting, flags, and streamers ordered and should arrive within a day. Some carnival games have also been loaned from the Downton Village Faire and they will be set up on Saturday morning."
"Thanks for the update Gwen," Tom said. "The Board met and finalized all funding requirements."
"Good." Matthew had given Tom his proxy to vote for the funding as he was in Ripon the day of the meeting. "Inevitably on the day something will have been forgotten so we'll have a reserve to spend as well."
Tom turned towards his brother-in-law. "So Matthew have you signed up for anything? I've been put down for the tug of rope."
"Not cricket?" Matthew jested. He knew Robert was trying to make Tom join the village cricket match playing for the house but he kept protesting that they wouldn't get this Irish mick to play a game meant for his betters.
"At least in this case I can politely decline," Tom answered with a laugh. "I truly don't meet the requirements."
The team was going to be made up only of totally blind and slightly sighted players to make it more an equal playing field.
"I hope to join Joseph in putting on a fencing demonstration." Matthew said. "I've got to find some time though to get in some practice. I'm quite rusty."
He stood up. "Thank you everyone for all your hard work." Sticking out his hand to shake each of the manager's, the meeting adjourned.
"Miss Dawson?" Matthew called out, not sure exactly where the office manager was standing.
"Yes Mr. Crawley?"
He turned in the correct direction. "I wanted to thank you personally for the help you gave Lady Mary in visiting the tenant's cottages."
"It was not a problem. We made all the appointments and then she me invited upstairs to your sitting room to have tea with Lady Sybil. It was fun reminiscing about our adventures. She was such a great help in getting my first job outside of service."
"Did you see little Sybbie?"
"Yes. Adorable. Master George ran in as well, tearing straight at me and gave me a big hug."
Matthew beamed. He always had a radiant smile whenever George was mentioned.
"I'll see you at Sports Day, then."
Gwen called out a "good-bye" and Tom and Matthew walked outside and down to the gravel path.
"I've got a couple of things still to do," Tom said. "So I'll see you later at dinner."
"Cheerio," Matthew replied and continued on the path back to Downton.
Upon making his way up the steps at the monk's garden and through the French doors into the library, Matthew heard some of the family conversing.
"Is Mary awake?" He asked.
Cora had turned at the sound of the door opening.
"She said to have you come up as soon as you arrived. Elinor might have already been brought back to the nursery by Florence but George is napping alongside her in your bedroom."
George had become very protective of his "Muummie" of late as he called her, especially after his little sister was born two weeks earlier. It had started soon after he had been brought in by his father the day after her birth. George had peered into her cot for the first time and looked over at Matthew.
His eyes became big as saucers, Mary told Matthew later. His mouth fell open and their usually endlessly chattering child of late had nothing to say at all.
"He just stared and stared at her," Mary had said, idly stroking his jacket sleeve as he lay next to her as she rested. "This ever so concentrated look on his face. Then he burst into this huge grin, showing all his teeth."
Matthew had been delighted with the description.
Now, two weeks on, George fussed every time he was out of their presence as if he didn't want to miss anything.
"It's only natural," Granny said. "And at least it's not jealousy. Rosamund hated the sight of Robert when she was first brought in to meet the baby. She stamped her foot and marched straight out again."
Mary had taken note of that and made sure George was always given equal amounts of love and attention.
Now, two weeks later, Matthew made his way up the stairs to their bedroom. He knocked gently and entered the room. "Hello."
"Come in." Mary said.
Florence was just about to take the infant back to the nursery for her nap. So Matthew was in time to have a few minutes with his whole family.
"I'll come back," Florence spoke to Mary as she waited to give Elinor back to her mother as Mary she slipped off the bed, being careful not to disturb George who had curled up under a light blanket and was soundly asleep.
Mary took the baby and Florence left. Matthew had made his way over to the window seat.
"How are you today, my darling?" He asked, hearing her dress rustle as she approached him.
"Much better. Especially now that I'm getting back to my routine."
Mary had the baby at Downton Village hospital. Not under the dangerous conditions of Sybil earlier in the year but just as a precaution. She and baby Elinor had remained a few days after the birth under Dr. Clarkson's care. After even more bed rest threatened her sanity, Mary succeeded in showing the doctor she was fine and could resume moderate activities.
"Now if I can only convince Dr. Clarkson to let me ride again…" Mary sat down in the window seat next to Matthew. They talked in hushed tones so as not to wake George.
Matthew clucked, "now now. You know that will still be weeks away."
He heard her groan. "The weather is perfect for a gallop."
"We'll take a walk instead. When Florence takes the children back to the nursery. Get outside and into the sunshine will improve your spirits."
Matthew heard his daughter's mewls of discomfort. "Is anything the matter?"
"No. I need to go with Florence though and feed her before we take our walk."
"Can I hold her? Before you take her back?"
"Of course darling."
He held out his hands and Mary carefully lay their daughter in his arms and folded the blanket back up around her. He curled her up protectively and brought her close to his face so he could kiss her forehead.
"My little angel…"
Just then George woke up, groggy from sleep, rubbing his eyes vigorously. He blinked several times and then scrambled to the foot of the bed to make sure his parents were still within his view.
"Mamamama! Dadda!"
"Georgie…" Mary called out. She walked over and he threw himself into her arms.
He was putting on even more weight and she was still feeling a bit wobbly from the birth, so after a quick kiss, Mary put him down on the carpeted floor and held his hand as they walked back together to Matthew and Elinor still seated on the window recess.
George was still far too young to understand his father's condition so Mary had to keep a careful eye out so that their son did not jostle Matthew too much as he held their infant daughter. She gave him back his pull horse toy and he sat down and made it go around in circles as he made what she guessed were his versions of animal sounds with his mouth.
Matthew loved hearing him so contented.
"Will your mother be back in time for the Sports Day?" Mary asked.
Matthew's smile turned serious. "She telephoned before I left for the Hall this morning. She and Lord Merton will both be attending it turns out."
Mary saw the quick scowl that Matthew tried to hide. He was still getting used to idea that his mother might just remarry one day. Isobel had gone to visit Cavenham Park, the Grey family home, for a few days to meet his sons.
"She'll run that gauntlet I trust with all guns ablazing," Violet had observed upon hearing Matthew explain his mother's visit one night at dinner.
"Forewarned is forearmed for sure in this case," Matthew had answered knowing from Mary and Sybil to already distrust Dickie's horrible children.
But privately he fretted about whether his mother was making the right decisions.
"You do know they make quite the perfect couple. Your mother deserves her own life."
Matthew knew he had been caught out. "I know she does. And I am truly happy for her. But I don't want her rushing into anything."
"I'm sure they won't. Right now they just like spending time in each other's company."
Matthew settled back against the window seat. Mary rested her head against Matthew's shoulder. She knew she'd have to make a move back to the nursery in a few minutes, but for right now she just wanted to enjoy this time with her family.
The world would intrude soon enough.
XX
So some vignettes of Crawley life which I hope you like. Thank you again for reading, liking, reviewing.