Carson hadn't exactly said 'no'. But he had been extremely polite and proper about not saying 'yes'. Matthew had had to go to see Robert to get permission to use the new telephone.

"Is this kind of secondment common these days? It never used to happen in South Africa!"

"I really don't know! I'm not really a soldier; I'm just a country solicitor who's been thrust into the army. But I must find out if this is genuine before I act upon it."

"Of course. Of course. Do use the telephone, and let me know what you find out before you go, will you?"

So Matthew had been shown to the telephone by Carson oh so formally, which counted for an apology in Carson's world.

It took a long time to get through to Intelligence in Whitehall.

"Captain Cartwright speaking."

"Um, hello, I was rather hoping to speak to Major Strallan."

"He isn't here just at the present, and just so you know, he's Lieutenant-Colonel now."

"Gosh! Good for him. Well, could you leave a message to ask him to telephone Downton Abbey and ask for Captain Crawley as soon as possible."

Fred's voice changed.

"Oh, you're the heir, to the earldom I mean! Oh, right, yes." He looked at the clock. "Shouldn't you be on your way to Dover by now?"

"You know about that? What the devil's going on? Why am I not being sent back to France with my own regiment?"

"Er, well, um, Captain, you know I can't say too much on the telephone, but Anthony wanted you in Dover because you know what it's like over there. You understand the terrain, and what the men have to endure."

"But what the hell am I supposed to be doing?" Stress was pushing Matthew's innate niceness over the edge.

"Co-ordinating members of our Corps. Making sure they can get to where they have to go. Then gathering their reports and...well, General Winstanley will tell you more when you arrive. I can tell you that it's terribly important that we have someone there in that position who's been...in the thick of it. That's why Anthony chose you."

"Right. Fair enough. Thank you for explaining, Captain. I better be off to Dover. Give my regards to Anthony, would you?"

"Certainly, Captain. He'll be very glad to hear when you're in Dover, and safe. We'll speak again soon, I'm sure."

.

"What!?" shouted Maresfield.

At that moment, Fred thought that perhaps he would've preferred to face the Hun on the Western Front rather than Major-General Maresfield in his office, his eyes flashing with angry indignation. Still, he gathered his courage and screwed it to the sticking place.

"I would like your permission to ask your sister if she would accept me as her husband" he repeated.

The moment's tense stillness was broken by Maresfield grabbing Cartwright by his tie and pushing him bodily against the wall behind him.

"You snivelling, traitorous, ungrateful little worm! I bring you into the Corps and give you my trust and this is how you repay me? By stealing my sister?!"

"W-with r-respect, sir, I am not stealing. I am being...being open about my feelings and...m-my intentions, sir. And I wouldn't do anything against her wishes, or without your permission. Sir."

Just as suddenly as he had lost his temper, Maresfield's anger dissipated. He dropped his hand from Cartwright's neck and took a step backwards. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke it was much quieter than usual.

"I apologise Cartwright. You are quite right, you have done everything correctly and properly, just as I would've expected you to."

Fred sagged slightly from relief, but also from shame.

"You know all about me, sir. You know that all I can offer her is promises and potential. But I swear that I will do absolutely everything to support her as best I can. I'll train as a doctor, like my father wants, and set up practice and give her the very best life…"

"That wouldn't be what she would want, I know that. She thinks you have the makings of a very prominent, and perhaps distinguished, mathematician. And I trust her judgement."

Cartwright, very sensibly, stayed silent.

"If I'm honest...If I'm damned honest, Cartwright, I just don't want to lose my sister. She's...she runs my home and keeps me sane, and...I don't know what I would do without her." He straightened slightly and looked Fred in the eye. "But I suppose I'll have to find out."

"R-really? Sir?! You'd give your permission?"

"Accept it quickly, boy, before I changed my mind" Maresfield growled returning to normal, although he was taken aback by Cartwright's effusive shaking of his hand.

"Thank you. Oh, thank you sir. I'm honoured by your trust! Of course, she might not accept me."

"Hmm. If I were a betting man, I'd give that outcome odds of 50-1. I believe she'll be in this evening, if you want to come back with me once we've got all these orders issued."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Of course, sir…and..."

"What?"

"Well, it's just that...well I live in barracks, sir. Can't afford anything of my own. Yet. If Ellie wanted to stay in your house, sir, as I expect she would do, well...I wouldn't mind making our home with you...if you wouldn't mind...sir."

The Major-General swallowed thickly and his cast-down eyes glistened for a bit. His voice was strangled as he answered.

"That...would be wonderful, Fred. Thank you."

.

All the orders had been issued. The agents along the Western Front had all returned coded messages of receipt. The co-ordinators, including Captain Crawley, had reported to their senior officers at their allocated listening stations. The operation would begin the next morning.

Anthony stared out of the window at an unseasonable mist. With luck and a following wind, the next few weeks would bring the Allies intelligence on the Germans' key lines of supply. The week or so after that would be the window when the regular army could destroy those lines of supply... completed perhaps by the end of October, just before the winter set in. And then, if they'd all done their jobs properly, and if the Kaiser and his ministers finally saw sense, there was just the remotest possibility of peace.

Cartwright entered behind him.

"You look like you've just fought a dragon single-handed" said Anthony scowling at him in concern.

"I think I did" answered Fred, dropping heavily into the nearest chair. "I've just asked for Maresfield's permission to propose to Elly."

"Good God! How'd he take it?"

"Eventually he gave it, but only after he almost throttled me!" His hand strayed to his dishevelled tie.

"But that's wonderful news!"

"Really? Now I've actually got to ask her." Anthony noticed that the man's hands were shaking. An admirable, clever woman, and an overprotective brother who happened to be your CO. What a situation! It was as bad as facing an Earl and his mother. He poured Fred a small dram and pressed it into the lad's hand.

"Just to steady your nerves. You'll ask her tonight, I presume?" Before you lose your bottle completely he added in his head.

"Yes" Fred answered with unexpected sureness. "Otherwise, Maresfield might think that I've changed my mind, and then he really would have me shot!"

"But not before he'd horsewhipped you to within an inch of your life."

In the end, everything went so much better than Fred had dared imagine.

The three officers travelled together to Maresfield's house in Hampstead. Dinner had the tension of people trying not to upset others and tripping over each others' feet because of it. As soon as dessert was finished, Maresfield dragged Anthony off into the library to admire some book or other, which they never got around to looking at.

"Will he make her happy, d'you think?" mumbled Maresfield, looking at the pictures on the walls, unseeing.

"I think she'll be as happy as she has been here, just in a different way" Anthony replied gently.

"He says he'd be happy to move in here. Change things as little as possible. But I don't know... that's not the correct, normal manner in which to begin married life, is it?"

"Sir, I'm about to start my second marriage to a woman young enough to be my daughter whom I've hardly seen in the last four years. I don't think there really are any correct, normal ways any more. Perhaps they never existed: we just thought that they did."

Maresfield just made a non-committed sort of sound and took a mouthful of his whisky.

"Sir, forgive me if you don't wish to be distracted with this just at the moment, but there really is little left to do with this operation that Cartwright can't manage on his own. Do you think I might be able to put in a request for some leave, once we've handed over to the regulars?"

"To go and get married" he mumbled miserably. It was a statement, not a request for confirmation. Anthony stayed quiet. It seemed like the diplomatic thing to do.

The door to the library swung open and the newly engaged couple almost fell into the room with the eagerness to tell their news. Maresfield hid his self-pity quickly to embrace his sister and shake Fred's hand.

"You'll be entitled to call him by his first name now, Fred" Elly was full of mischief in her joy "at least off duty!"

"No you bloody well aren't!" growled Maresfield.

"You needn't worry, sir. I don't know your first name."

"Hardly anybody does!" Elly was enjoying teasing her brother. "It's…" She began, but Maresfield butted in. If anyone was going to say it, it would be him.

"It's Livingstone." He glared at them all, daring them to comment. "Livingstone Maresfield. Papa was a fervent admirer of the explorer. Dreadful name. Don't like it. Can't shorten it. Don't use it."

And so they quickly went back to congratulating the happy couple.

.

Reports came through thick and fast. The co-ordinators collated information for their particular areas and sent it up to Anthony and Fred. They analysed the data, compared what was happening in one section with another, and a picture emerged of the German supply infrastructure...such as it was. It was well within the capacity of the Allies to bring the entire German war machine to its knees with focussed artillery bombardments.

It was past the beginning of November before all three of them were sure that the danger points of their plan had passed. The regular army had taken the reports and instructions of the Intelligence Corps with remarkable obeisance. They had even been given the use of some aerial photography to determine how effective the barrages had been.

.

"Strallan, with me."

Anthony physically jumped when his Commanding Officer shouted at him from behind. Anthony would never get used to Maresfield's parade ground manner.

He caught Fred's eye, and they both rolled their eyes good-naturedly before he rose from his desk to follow Maresfield to his own office down the corridor.

"Shut the door, and then sit down."

Maresfield was quiet for a few seconds then began to speak very quietly and very deliberately.

"The Kaiser has abdicated."

"Good God!" Anthony swore under his breath.

"You know what that means."

"It's all over bar the shouting. Who's in charge?"

Maresfield shrugged. "Friedrich Ebert it seems, although with all the socialist unrest he's holding onto power by his fingertips. There's reports of widespread mutiny in the navy which is beginning to spill over to the army. Germany's done for. There won't be a German empire by Monday."

They considered that in silence for a moment.

Then Maresfield said "Go on, take your blasted leave and get married. Be back here in a week to help organise the mopping up."

Anthony stared at him for just a split second, then stumbled to his feet.

"Yes sir! Thank you, sir!"

As he left, Maresfield shouted after him "And bring your wife back here with you! I don't want you buggering off again any time soon!"

.

Still no wedding. Sorry. Bit of a bish about that at Schloss Munchausen, I'm afraid. Never could get the hang of actually *planning* stories...