Chapter 15
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Grantham House
St James's Square
London
Summer of 1886
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Grantham House was silent—almost eerily so.
Three lone figures hurried their way out of the servant's quarters, dashing through the rather opulent hallway towards the entrance hall's grand looping stairwell.
For the first time in her life, Lady Mary Crawley felt as though the portraits of her long dead ancestors were glaring down at her in scrutiny, their eyes full of distaste and disapproval.
So used to feeling as though she were the perfect custodian of the Crawley's good name, the prospect of her family's ruin at her hand was a rather daunting one.
'How much of Crawley history had this house seen?', Mary couldn't help but think, feeling increasingly ashamed both of herself and of her own foolishness. 'Had it ever seen such scandal?'
She paused, glancing shakily over her shoulder at the faces of Sybil and Matthew.
Mary felt their eyes bore into her back as unknowingly she led them towards him...towards the body of Kemal Pamuk, the man she had taken as her lover. Seeing their concern, the eldest Crawley sister couldn't help but wonder how much longer their expressions of empathy would last once Sybil and Matthew knew what she had done.
Her heart raced in her chest, tormented by thoughts of what would happen if her secret were to get out, if the world were to known of the utter chaos that her foolish desires had caused.
Feverishly, her mind returned to Kemal.
The image of him was burned into Mary's memory—lingering constantly at the fringes of every thought; Kemal Pamuk spread eagled on her bed, his golden legs akimbo and his glassy and vacant brown eyes—once positively brimming with lust and passion—now completely empty and staring lifelessly into space.
'You're mad!', Mary had accused, attempting to turn him away.
Kemal had only smiled rather wolfishly in response. 'I am in the very grip of madness.'
Mary choked back a rather graceless sob, shaking away the tears that threatened to fall.
In the face of Sybil and Matthew's concern and curiosity, she held her head up—willing herself to regain her usual mask of the stoic aristocrat.
Aside from her father, Sybil and Matthew were two of the last people in the entire world whom Mary would choose to bear witness to her shame first-hand.
She tried not to imagine what Sybil would make of her dalliance, pushing aside the thought as soon as it entered her mind. Decisively, Mary forced herself not to focus on the weight of the favour that she would soon be asking of Sybil...her younger sister who was scarcely out in society, her same younger sister whom she was supposed to be role model to.
Mary comforted herself with the notion that should the pandemonium regarding Kemal Pamuk ever to come to light—Sybil would have almost as much to lose as her; respectability, position and the chance of making a suitable match...those three precious things that granted women their only power and stability in life. Mary was determined that neither she or Sybil should miss out.
Matthew, on the other hand, could walk away from the entire situation with his reputation completely clean and his respectability as unquestionable and irrefutable as ever. It was something Mary would have envied if she wasn't already in such a frenzied state of mind.
Briefly, she tried to imagine a version of Matthew who would leave them in the lurk, a version of him who would abandon both her and Sybil to deal with the whole nasty business alone...Mary couldn't.
As much as she may sometimes like to think otherwise, Matthew was far too honourable to do such a thing. Damn him, a stalwart of moral integrity if there had ever been one!
Almost too soon for Mary's liking, the trio came to a halt outside her bedroom door.
Nails digging nervously into her palms, the eldest Crawley sister found herself hesitating. She inhaled deeply—steeling herself for the inevitable moment when her relationships with both Sybil and Matthew may be changed forever.
"Mary, what the devil is going on?", Matthew asked in a rather loud whisper, a whisper that jolted Mary from continuing with her wandering train of thought. She turned to him, seeing the confusion and worry in his pale blue eyes.
His gaze was unmistakably filled with more raw earnestness than Mary could ever have prepared herself for, not in a million years.
'He really and truly cares', she couldn't help but think, it was a notion that made her heart clenched painfully—reminding her of the true stupidity of what her actions will undoubtedly have done, what taking Kemal Pamuk to her bed would undoubtedly have cost her.
Mary tried to forget the countless possibilities she had destroyed.
'I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him', Mary thought bitterly to herself.
Biting her bottom lip, the truth began to tumble from her lips, for she couldn't lie to them-not to Sybil and Matthew, and most certainly not now.
"He's dead!", she said, stumbling over her words in a manner that sounded nothing like her usually cool and collected self. "Well, I think he's dead. No, I know for a fact he is!"
"Who's dead?", Sybil asked, her eyes wide.
Shaking her head furiously, Mary found herself, once again, trying to maintain her composure. She glanced away from both Matthew and Sybil, unable to look either of the in the eye as the next words fell from her lips. "Kemal Pamuk", she whispered in return, her voice trailing off as her vision blurred—eyes prickling with tears. "He died in my bed."
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Matthew sighed deeply, leaning heavily against the bannisters.
As he looked out on to the deserted entrance hall, Matthew realised for the first time in his life he truly had absolutely no idea what to say or do with himself.
He hadn't known how to comfort Mary when she had cried out in grief and frustration, unable to properly close Mr Pamuk's eyes.
So instead of quietly leading her away as Sybil had, Matthew had escaped out into the hallway—determined that his part in this particular Greek tragedy had ended.
He was exhausted—truly, but his body was still pumping with adrenaline, his mind reeling at what he'd just done...what he'd just done for Mary.
Behind him, Matthew could hear a short whispered conversation being shared between the two sisters and had somehow managed to raise his hand in some vague gesture of farewell when Sybil quietly bid him goodnight.
He glanced over his shoulder at Mary's unmoving form, waiting for her to follow suit and silently leave alongside her younger sister.
She didn't.
"Matthew, I want to thank you for what you've done tonight", Mary said, her voice sounding rather stiff and formal—almost as though he hasn't just seen her lug a one hundred and ninety pound corpse through the corridors of Grantham House. She looked at him cooly, her once almost grey cheeks having regained some of their usual milky colour.
"I know there are very few who would have done what you did for me."
Nodding rather numbly, Matthew offered her a small smile in return. He tried to ignore the nervous jolt in his stomach whenever his mind began to return to what he had just seen...he thought of Kemal Pamuk and his limp and flailing body...
Mary had been worth it, of course she had.
More than anything, Matthew wanted to tell her that there was very little that he wouldn't do for her. He wanted to tell her that he would do anything if it meant bringing her peace and happiness.
It was clearer to him than all else; Matthew knew that helping Mary tonight hadn't been a choice for him, because seeing her suffer would only bring him more pain...irrespective of the fact that she didn't seem to feel for him in the same all consuming way he did for her.
And that was totally fine, it was just something Matthew had resolved himself to live with no matter how much it hurt.
A heavy silence fell between them, both yearning to say more but finding themselves completely unable to find the words. So much had happen in the past few months, things that had left Matthew confused and shaken and wondering whether he knew Mary at all-this was one of those things.
Matthew knew that a part of him should feel bitter or upset with her for having rejected him when his position in society had become unstable, but he couldn't find it within himself to do so. Matthew knew that Mary would never be happy if she wasn't living in some form of Downton Abbey. He knew that she would never be content living the life of a solictor's wife when she had grown up in an ivory tower, dressed in finery, attending balls and having her every whim attended to by an army of servants.
Mary was beauty, she was grace...and she most certainly wasn't destined to be with him-not when Cora and Robert may very well have a son and heir of their own in a few months time...it was something that Matthew had begun to accept.
Realising that no more was going to be said, Matthew reached forward and gently squeezed Mary's elbow in a friendly sort of manner. He tried to forget the dreams of happiness that he had once had for them. It was now time to wake up and move on with their lives.
"Good night, Mary."
...
To all the stars that light the road
Don't ever leave that girl so cold
Never let me down, just lead me home
Don't tell me this is all for nothing
I can only tell you one thing
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere
~I'll Be Out There Somewhere, Dermot Kennedy
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Hello Everyone, I truly hope that you are all keeping well.
I know this chapter had quite a bit more Mary and Matthew than usually, and honestly...I've never written for them before so I'd love to know how you think I did since Sybil and Tom have always been more up my ally.
I've recently started another Sybil and Tom multichapter called 'Standby', a rom-com modern AU set in Dublin. It's M-rated so I'm not sure if it's coming up on the most recently posted page of Downton stories, so if you would like to check it out I'd love to hear from you. I will leave a summary and link down below if any of you are interested.
Anyways, in the meantime I hope you are all keeping safe!
Pearlydewdrop xx
Standby summary...
It wasn't as though Tom had spent the last six years thinking about Sybil, he just hadn't really been able to forget her. She was the one who got away, the one Tom had thought he'd never see again. Then low and behold, she shows up in his mam's tourist office looking for a place to stay. Will the years have changed them, or are Sybil and Tom more compatible than ever? (Modern AU)
s/13564622/1/Standby