1925
It was the year of weddings, it seemed. There was still four months away till Atticus and Rose's wedding. In July it would be Daniel and Tally's. Everyone had been expecting that. What they hadn't was Carson and Miss Hughes. They hadn't set a date for theirs yet.
It was early March and it was hunting season. Mary felt a little off her game. She had fallen off her horse. Good thing she had the instinct to tuck and roll.
"Are you all right?" Her father rushed over. One of the fellow hunters, Robert Faircliff, who was also the stable hand, was helping her up.
"Of course. No bones broken anyway. Thanks to Mr. Faircliff here."
"Should I take you back to the house My Lady." The stableman asked.
"No need. If you could just give me a hand up." No need to tell Matthew.
He was inside. He overheard Edith speaking on the phone with her editor. "I'm not taking any tone. I'm reminding you of the dead line. Goodbye." She slammed the phone back on to the receiver.
"Trouble up mill?"
"My editor, Mr. Skinner again. I think the problem is me. He doesn't like working for a woman."
"I think you were right not to sell it and take the money."
"I think I am." She said proudly.
There were many changes still coming to Downton. The strongholds that Matthew and Tom had helped put in place were holding up. But that wasn't all. The staff had been cut back since the war. It now needed to be cut back in size considerably. Robert went over it with Carson. "This is part of a bigger conversation but sooner or later we need to discuss the future staffing requirements at Downton."
"We cut down quite a bit My Lord. We only got one hall boy and two housemaids. And there's the kitchen staff that have left. We have not replaced them. As a matter of fact both of the housemaids have handed in their notice. One is leaving to get married and Madge has found a job in a shop."
"I know. But there's no need to do anything drastic. The estates doing well, thanks to Mr. Crawley and Mr. Branson. But I don't want to feel out of step with my fellow man. Times are changing Carson. It waits for no man. I can't think of anyone who has an under Butler anymore." Come to think of it. "If I could stop history in it's tracks, maybe I would. But we can't. Nor you nor I can hold back time."
"Unfortunately."
But it was not just the Abbey being hit by the changes, nor just the village but the village hospital as well. The board had gathered in the library.
"The fact is that The Royal Yorkshire County Hospital wants to take over our little hospital." Violet protested.
"There might be benefits to the village." Lord Merton said. " If we form such a partnership our patients would have access to more modern equipment," he turned to Isobel, to more advanced medicine."
Isobel knew what he was doing. He wanted to be on her side, to let her know he was thinking of Matthew. That wasn't the way he was going to win her affection to something more other than friendship.
"Our fundraising would be more efficient." She agreed with him but only for Matthew's sake, thinking how it could benefit him and others, of course. He wouldn't have to travel as far as London or Leeds, and wouldn't have to deal with the rainy weather taking a tole on his joints and muscles; that made it more difficult to take him when he needed an out of town appointment.
"And the price of the fundraising would be to lose all control and to become the tools of a faceless committee in York." Violet strongly disagreed.
"What matters more health or power?" Isobel asked.
"What matters is the power over the maintenance of our own health!"
"Lady Grantham is right." Replied Clarkson, "at least, our independence is surely not something we should just abandoned without a second thought." Isobel would know that he meant well, that they should think about it before deciding.
"Where did you hear about this?" Isobel asked Violet.
"A friend whispered it to me in York. We'll all be getting the letter soon."
"So you want to protect your power at the expense of the patients. I want to protect the patients at the expense of my power." Her anger and frustration was coming more from instinct, that she didn't know she was capable of, to protect her son and what would be in his best interests. She might be a nurse but she was a mother first, that's what the war reminded her to be. It took his near death from his injuries and his suffering to realise. She wondered if she would ever have a chance to make up for a horrible mother she'd been, if she deserved it. She had let grieving for her lost children, and the death of the love of her life, and her fear, get in the way of that. He would give her a chance. He would forgive her because he was his father's son, and because he loved her. And she loved him as only a mother could. Her only regret was that it took so long to get there.
"And may the best man win." Violet said triumphantly and confident as if she already had won.
"I'm glad we agree on this." Lord Merton leaned over to Isobel.
"Don't make too much of it." She didn't want him to jump to anything.
Mary came in to bathe and dress before Matthew came up.
"What should we do about that hair?" Anna asked as she picked up the brush. "I'm afraid you'll be late going down."
"I wouldn't have washed it but I came off and it was full of mud. Don't tell Mr. Matthew. You'll just have to do your best."
"Don't tell me what?" He was standing in the doorway.
"Why I'll be late for our dinner. I had to clean up. I didn't want to smell like manure."
"You could smell like anything and I would still find you beautiful." He came up to put his arms around her.
"Alright. You'll mess up Anna's progress. Go ahead downstairs."
At the dinner table, they discussed how Tom was doing in America.
"He's found a flat with a garden and found a school for Sybie." Mary stated.
"Speaking in an American accent." Robert said with disapproval. He was still hurt about Tom taking his youngest daughter's only child halfway across the world. He had to keep telling himself that Tom had her best interests in mind.
"What would be wrong about that?" Mary asked. His first wife had been American. It had been chosen for them. After Patrick, after they had thought he died on Titanic, only to find out he had died in the war, her papa wanted her to find someone she was happy with. Though he secretly hoped it would be Matthew, he had since the beginning. He had even been in denial that Matthew would be paralyzed and fatherless for the rest of his life. When he had regained his mobility, and other things, it was a miracle, a blessed miracle, despite what Clarkson had said, that he had been misdiagnosed.
When it had been announced that there was a possibility that he could have children, Robert was overjoyed. He had been appalled that Cora still didn't want Mary to marry Matthew. She had spoken as if he was an inconvenience. It seemed that Mary's future, the future they had planned for her, was more important to her than their daughter's happiness. That it would always be something, it won't be easy. It could ruin Mary's life. Did he want grandchildren?
Of course he wanted Grandchildren. She had spoken as if Sybil and Edith would never have any either.
"He is a son to me and my heir."
"That's just my point. You're too attached."
"Too...Do you hear yourself?"
"There's a small chance, Robert. Even if they were to...imagine how hard it would be on those children, most of all Mary. Taking care of a crippled husband..."
"I'll forget you said that."
"Even though he's a little less so than he was, the fact still remains that he still is. Imagine how they will be treated."
"Treated by who. By you?"
"Robert, that's not what I meant. It would demand a lot. If they do have children, he probably won't be around long enough to see them grow up."
"We can't know that."
"If it isn't to be so and he lives to be Earl, how will he manage to run the county?"
"He might be crippled as you put it, but in his mind...he's still the man I met back in Manchester all those years ago..." but he really wasn't. Cora could see it too.
"It won't be just that. You haven't thought about it, what do they call it, this war neurosis."
"He just has the nightmares. It will pass in time." She still gave that disbelieving look. "Don't you have any faith?" He truly believed that their love could conquer all. "What's more important to you? Her success or her happiness? Mary wouldn't be happy with anyone else."
They had their disagreements in the end, but she should have been able to be a grandmother. And when he held his grandson for the first time, all his dreams were realised. He could hardly be pulled away. The day his grandchildren were born were the happiest of his life. He had long ago let go of feeling guilty for being happy. It would have been selfish to hold on to that. He got to share that experience of becoming a grandparent with Rachel. She had never treated Matthew indifferently. Though she approached him differently when he was using his chair, in a more gentler way, like he were fragile. That couldn't be helped. She didn't mean to do it. The stark difference between her and Cora. He didn't want to think ill of his first late wife. He still loved her in his own way. She had been the only thing he'd ever known. Tom took his oldest grandchild from the things she had ever known.
"Poor, Tom. If he was a fish out of water here, what is he in Boston?" Violet asked with sympathy.
"A fish back in water I should think!" Isobel was piling food onto her plate without looking up. It took no expert, Matthew observed, that they had had a disagreement of some sort. "There's a tremendous Irish community there. If you ask me, he's landed on his feet."
"How is the search going for his replacement?"
"We don't need a replacement." Mary held her head high with confidence.
"Why not?" Violet looked like she was startled.
"Because Mary's his replacement. I appointed her new agent." Matthew beamed.
"Long live women's rights and all that. I understand helping Edith with the publishing company..." Robert turned back to Mary, "But it's no good to take on a job that wears you out."
"I'm doing it now, aren't I?"
"I've been more than capable to carry the load." Matthew reminded them. Though it often wore him out. "If I can do it, she can."
"Tom and I have worked together since he came back from Dublin. Why shouldn't I?" Mary stated to back her husband and her friend up.
"What about the heavy lifting?" Granny asked.
"Granny, I think I can lift quite as much as sad old Jarvis before Matthew chased him away."
"I suppose we only know what we're capable of when we test our limits." Violet no longer objected. She would have to see that play out.
"And we certainty know what you're capable of." Isobel quipped.
For the usual Sunday tea, Isobel had Matthew over. He sensed tensions were running high between her and Violet, not just between him, since he had discovered that she had kept the identity of that child in the photograph a secret from him. He did not know weather to believe her explanation. He sensed it had to do more with her social life, there lack of, or rather who hadn't been coming round. He had seen her whole demeanor change around him to a more chipper one. Now that he was hardly in her presence, she appeared rather solemn.
"I've noticed that Lord Merton hasn't been coming round lately." They had been seeing each other for a few years now, as friends. He wasn't aware of anything else going on between them. Doctor Clarkson had seen coming round more often than the old Baron. He had met Lord Merton a few times, not long enough to make a connection. He didn't really like the man. He wasn't a bad person. That's just how it was. He probably would have come to accept him if his mother had chosen a relationship with him. After all the man was Mary's godfather. He did seem like a nice man. How he could have such horrible people as sons was beyond him. Maybe they took after their mother. He shouldn't make assumptions on someone who was dead and couldn't vouch for their own character.
Clarkson and his mother worked at the hospital and were on the board together, and were close friends. But on the other hand, so did Lord Merton. Perhaps she had a closer bond with Clarkson, because of how much he had helped in his recovery.
Mother is a grown women, she does not require nor does she need your approval.
"We had a disagreement and we decided to part ways."
"This disagreement wouldn't happen to be called Larry Grey?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Come on now, mother." He chided as he poured cream into his coffee. It was obvious. "I can handle Larry."
"That's what I'm afraid of." She never wanted to see a repeat of that. She saw his eyes gleam, with what, she couldn't quite place. With what happened last time.
"I had a momentary lapse in judgment, mother." It was as if he had read her mind. "It won't happen again. He did insult my wife." He said it as if it had justified his action. He took a sip from his mug.
"That's right. It won't. Not if I can have a hand in it." Had that been all that was, a momentary lapse in judgment, when he had been about to strangle that poor man? He wasn't exactly, but no one should go through that experience. There was no sense in asking now if he had been having a flash back or if he had blacked out, he wouldn't remember it.
"I don't want you to make sacrifices because of me. I don't want to get in your way."
"My dear Matthew, you could never get in the way." As she had been telling him from day one. He could never. He wasn't a burden. She didn't want him to feel that this was his fault, to feel that she couldn't have a normal life because of him. " It was my choice. We didn't agree on a number of things..."
"I want you to be happy. Don't you think it's about time..."
There was a knock on the door, followed by the maids voice, "Doctor Clarkson is here, ma'am." She entered with the doctor behind her.
Matthew stood up, "You're not ill?" He asked his mother.
"No. Not at all."
"Nothing like that." Clarkson further assured. "This isn't a house call or rather that sort of house call. Your mother invited me to join you."
"Oh. I might as well stay them." He sat back down. "You've been keeping my mother rather busy." While he wasn't looking at them Clarkson and Isobel exchanged looks, wondering what he meant by that, "With her work." Matthew looked up from buttering his piece of bread. "It's hard to get her away. What ever it is seems to have Cousin Violet up on her haunches."
"Oh that." Clarkson said, gladly relieved. "The York County Hospital wants to merge with the hospital in the village. That would mean availability to more modern equipment and medicine..."
"That could benefit me. I see."
"Please don't think that your mother and I arranged this to ambush you."
"I thought that Richard would be some nice company." Her son didn't take note of the slip.
After it was time for Matthew to go, they saw him off.
"Do you think he noticed anything?" Clarkson asked as he watched the car pull away.
"No. Matthew doesn't notice that sort of thing. When it doesn't involve him and Mary."
May 1925
"I ought to go up to London soon." Edith was discussing with Matthew after dinner. He, Mary and Edith had departed for the drawing room. Mary was sitting at the card table, playing solitaire, listening in. She partly didn't like them being as thick as thieves. She supposed his sister in-law and him were friends, now that Tom was gone. He needed something to do, to distract him from his own mind.
"Is this about your editor again?"
"Partly him. I must get him back on track. But then there's another matter. I'm trying to find a new tenant for the flat."
"You mean Gregson's flat." Mary corrected.
"I mean my flat. The lease is due at the end of the month. I've still been paying it and..." She just couldn't let it go right after Michael died. She couldn't bare going inside the first several months, and at the same time didn't want to sell off his things. So she had kept it as it was. "I'd like to start making some of my money back. But after that I don't know what I should do. If it would be good for me to have my own London base."
"It's a thought." Matthew was glad that she was moving on in the world, and as much as enthralled that she was taking on challenges in a man's world. The war had opened up opportunities for woman to have jobs, but the rest of the world were stuck in their old fashioned ways. A woman running her own business, most were still unprepared for that.
"Anyway, I'm off to bed."
It was only him and Mary now.
"Edith alone on the town. What will she get up to?"
"At her age, she's entitled to get up to something."
"Watch it, Mr. Crawley, she's only a year younger than me." It made him think of his approaching birthday. He was dreading forty. Mary didn't want to think of it at the moment. They never brought it up. It was a discussion, she felt, would lead to an argument. She couldn't imagine not growing old with him and yet she could not imagine him old. Just thinking of it made her stomach twist into knots. She wasn't sure if it was only because of that. Could they really have another child? Should they? He's made it this far with the many obstacles thrown in their way, he can get through anything. He had a long life ahead of him. She knew he wouldn't think so. He probably had a good five or so years left, ten if he was lucky. That's what's on his mind. Maybe that's why it seems he's been pulling away, how ever present. She felt that their time together was being stolen away by Edith. But that was just ridiculous.
"I wish you wouldn't encourage her." She continued.
He could automatically tell that it wasn't jealousy of her sister that was bothering her, far from it. "What's the matter?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm just worried about you. I'm your husband. I'm allowed."
"What makes you think anything's the matter?"
Matthew accompanied Edith to Michael's flat in London. He couldn't imagine himself and his family living in a place like this of their own, not only would it be too small for their growing family, "How exotic!." It felt as foreign as coming home from the battlefield to Downton had been.
"I met Virginia Wolfe in this room and Lytton Strachey, although he didn't stay very long."
He envied her. "I wish I'd known your Mr. Gregson better. He did seem a nice chap."
"Even though he was married?"
Matthew nodded, regretting that he had interfered with that aspect of her life, though it had come from a good place, wanting to protect her. It hadn't stopped them from seeing each other and it ultimately led to his death, seeking a divorce in Germany. What had the man been thinking though? Germany had been in a state of disarray after the war, and with dangerous characters on the rise like Hitler. But when you're in love, any sacrifice was worth it.
"People aren't so curious in London." Edith continued, hopeful. There had been rumors about her and Michael here but no one seemed to make that big a deal about it.
"No. They couldn't care less. Not since the war. They got more things to worry about."
"Isn't that a relief?" She saw him freeze. For a moment, she thought his eyes had gone dark, this fearful, almost glassy stare to them, "And then there's the museums and galleries and theatre." She added, redirecting to a lighter topic.
"People talk of such things but one only ever goes when friends come to stay."
Edith blushed with delight and embarrassment, for it seemed odd for Matthew to refer himself as a friend of hers, (that's what it sounded like he was suggesting) while she and Mary were still at odds with each other.
"When's the train arriving?" Matthew asked, continuing the conversation in a different direction, sensing things start to become a bit awkward. He hoped he hadn't overstepped, and she hadn't seen him almost pull away. It would be devastating for him and Mary, even though it was for a moment. Mary was convinced they would go away on their own. He had never told her what Clarkson had told him, six months after George was born, that they would never entirely go away. He could relapse at any given time, like any disease that goes in to remission, Clarkson had put it. "you will have this for the rest of your life." Even as he had gone on about that it could be managed with exercises and continued support, and by accepting the man that he was now, it had felt like his life had come to an end all over again. But life had gone on. A life he was grateful for.
"You're right. We should be heading back." Edith said.
Robert's family friends, The Darnley's had to sell their estate where Mr. Mason was a tenant there, whom most likely would loose his tenancy. He wondered if Robert, more so Matthew, would put in a good word for him to keep it. There was to be an auction on the contents of the house on the tenth. Matthew didn't mind that it would be on his birthday. He couldn't remember the last time he had a proper one. He had hardly wanted to celebrate his birthday two months after he had been injured. Birthdays used to feel forced to him, celebrating another day to be alive. It should mean more to him now, with after the war and how much time he might or might not have left. He knows he mustn't think like that. Que sera, sera.
He visited his mother earlier in the day with Mary, talking about birthdays past, embarrassing him, as mother's do.
"Matthew was born in South Africa."
"I didn't know that." Mary turned in her chair, facing her husband. "He didn't tell me."
"He didn't know. Reggie and I were twelve years in to our marriage and still no children, after we lost so many. We were told we couldn't have anymore. So we prepared for a life without them, dedicating our work to help set up a hospital for the malnourished children. You could imagine our surprise when we found we were going to have Matthew."
Mary now noticed him sitting rather uncomfortably. She didn't know what Isobel was keeping from her, what they both were.
He hoped that she wouldn't pressure him about it in front of mother, or ever for that matter. Mary didn't know that he had had a brother that had survived, a few months at least. She knew only of the ones she had lost. Perhaps his mother had more that had lived and died that she didn't want to tell him about. Perhaps his difficulty to have them at first hadn't been mainly due to his injury, and had been something he had inherited from his mother. He was having difficulty again. He would very much like to have another child. What would be the point of telling her of his dead brother that he had never met?
Mary was telling Isobel about the interesting family history he had told her. "Is there anything that you haven't told me?" She asked cheekily, though she knew he was keeping something from her, more deeper than this.
"Nothing that you don't already know." He put his hand on her knee under the table. "The rest of the details of a country Lawyer would bore you."
As they left for Mallerton, Edith announced her plans after Mary asked about her reluctance to go.
"Are you planning to turn up your nose at the new owners?"
"No, I just don't think I'll be in Yorkshire quite so much in the future."
The three woman, Mary Edith and Rachel descended the stairs.
Robert was waiting by the foyer. "What a funny thing to say."
"It's time to go forward. And I'm unmarried so I must do it alone."
"That sounds rather severe." Robert still had hopes of her marrying someday and giving him more grandchildren. He thought she was getting a little too far ahead of herself.
"I think it sounds rather positive." Rachel said, as they made their way out the front doors. Matthew was already in one of the cars with Daisy and Mr. Mason, also attending the auction, and wanted Daisy and Matthew to accompany him.
As they arrived, Robert stood admiring the old estate, "I can hardly believe it. I used to come here as a boy."
"Sic transit gloria mundi." Matthew said in Latin.
"Would you be as philosophical when it's our turn?" Mary asked, from ahead of him.
He waited to go in with Daisy and Mr. Mason. He had brought his wheelchair at Mary's bequest, although there would be places to sit for the auction, you could never be too careful. There were stairs and he hadn't brought his cane. Daisy and Mr. Mason stood beside him, their arms linked around his, as they walked up the steps.
"I think of you both as a daughter and son." He said to them, as they entered, also thanking Matthew for giving him his medal to William.
"You don't need to thank me, Mr. Mason. He was far more deserving..." He cut himself of as Mary approached them. Daniel was brining in his chair.
"Are we thinking of buying anything or just looking?" She asked.
"Just looking." He responded, tiredly. She hoped he wasn't actually and was just bored.
"I think I might have a poke around." Mr. Mason said. "though I wanted to see the house more than anything. That there were a wedding present when Sir John got married! I contributed half a crown to it. Shame to see it sold."
Daisy didn't think it fair, that they were selling Mr. Mason's memories too. She wanted to confront the Darnley's. Mr. Mason and Mr. Matthew tried to warn her. She ended up making things worse for Mr. Mason. Matthew convinced Robert to try and convince Carson to give Daisy a second chance.
Mary thought it very generous of him as they went up to bed.
"She still didn't listen when I warned her. I hope our children won't be like that." He put aside the book he was reading on the nightstand. Mary had given it to him as a birthday present.
"They won't. And Daisy's hardly a child." She had been worried about it before, that the children wouldn't listen to Matthew because of his disability. Society teaches us at a very early age that somehow people with disabilities are less capable, have no authority, and are 'lesser' persons. Children are also pretty perceptive. Giving them positive reinforcement, treating him no differently, had so far ensured it not to happen. They were more likely to listen to their papa and were usually well behaved. It had given them a more caring and mature nature but they were still children non the less. "They're all perfect angels." George had the gentleness and humour of his father, Katie hardly ever made a fuss, Josephine, had her mothers looks and personality but sometimes it exceeded hers. She knew her own mind like her papa. She was the worst of her and Matthew. Before she was even a year old she had even command over her brother. At two she had her papa wrapped around her finger.
She came running into their bedroom wearing a pair of Sybil's best pearls and an entire bottle of perfume, the empty container in her hand. George, who had been chasing her, stopped in the doorway. Mary snatched it away from her, Jo looked startled.
The perfume was all she had left of her sister, apart from her niece who was half way across the world. They didn't make it anymore. She would often go into her room still and just take in the sent of her. Now that smell would soon fade with everything else. Before she could scold her, George apologised for her.
"Don't be mad, mummy. Girls like to wear pretty things."
Mary smiled at her son as their eyes met. He was so kind, so forgiving like his father. Both of the children climbed on to the bed. Katie was in the nursery sleeping. She loved them all. But it was Josephine that really tried her patients. She was spoiled by her papa. There was no scolding her in his presence.
Tally soon came to get them ready for bed.
"What was she thinking? That was part of the only thing I have left of her!"
"Don't yell at the baby, darling. You'll upset her. She didn't know."
"Katie's the baby. Jo's two years old. If we don't discipline her now, she'll become a little terror by the time she's twelve. Trust me, I know, because I was."
"And you turned out just fine." He kissed her on the forehead. "Discipline is for boys." But he never reprehended George either.
"Happy Birthday, darling." She said, kissing him in return. "I hope I look as good as you do when I'm forty."
"You will." He replied, pulling her closer.
Carson came up to the breakfast room, a Mr. Finch was in the drawing room, waiting to see the agent.
"I'll see him." Mary said immediately. Matthew was still in bed and she had decided to go downstairs so he could have a lie in. He was going to have a busy day in London with Edith. He needed it, after the night they had last night. Rachel had apparently stayed in bed too. She shuddered to think of the reason, assuming she was taking breakfast in bed. She couldn't bring herself to think that her dear Papa would do anything of that nature, despite her and her sister's existence.
Much to Robert's chagrin, he made no fuss over it. "You'll have to manage it. I have some errands to run and I promised I'd meet Granny at eleven."
"I want to be left to manage him. It's my job." She said with eagerness. I'm starting to sound like Josephine. And she's only two. But Matthew believes in me. I must put his faith in me to the test.
Mr. Finch had been expecting a man of course. Why wouldn't he? But it didn't go as bad as she thought it would after she had to explain about Matthew, and that he had much confidence in her.
"I'll need to discuss the estate entries this year in the Fat Stock Show at Mallton. You won't want to be bothered with it."
"I thought all the Fat Stock Shows took place before Christmas."
"They do, usually. This is an experiment."
"You were hoping to discuss it with Mr. Branson, I presume."
"Yes. But I now know that's not possible. But if you could just tell me who's replaced him."
"I know this might come as a bit of a shock. But you're looking at her. I've been working with Mr. Branson for some years and now I intend to manage myself, along with my husband and his Lordship."
"Well, it is a changing world. I don't suppose I could talk to either of them by chance?" It was clear he preferred a man but he was being respectable about it.
"I'm afraid Papa is out at the moment. And my husband is resting. He was injured in the war and some days he needs his rest."
"I understand mi'lady."
Most older gentlemen do. Most of papa's generation had fought in the Boers. "I know you still might have some reservations but I assure you that he has much confidence in me."
"We're really hoping for a decent entry from the Abbey." Finch continued, enthusiastically.
Before Matthew was to go to London with Edith, he wanted to stop by his mother's. Not before telling his Mary how proud of her he was.
"I have an amazing wife."
"Do you mean about how I managed Finch or last night?" She continued to help him get dressed. "If it were up to me, I'd prefer you wear nothing at all."
"Easy now. Don't tempt me. I made a promise to be there for Edith."
Mary pulled a face. I sometimes worry how much time you spend with her. But she didn't voice it. "Try not to waste too much energy. I have a surprise for you when you get home."
He was all the more eager and anxious now, trying to decipher what it could be, during the ride over to Crawley House. She couldn't possibly want him again, two nights in a row. He wasn't sure if he would be up to it, even if he did his best to reserve his energy. The last time she had found him this irrespirable, being unable to resist her urge for that primal, intimate need, had been the first time...she couldn't be...could she?
His thought was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out to them. It was his mother, trying to flag down the car. He told the chauffer to pull over, that he would walk from here. Hornsby asked if he would be needing his wheelchair.
"No. But thank you, Nige. It's just a few feet from Crawley House from here. Come back in about a half an hour."
"Make that an hour and a half." Isobel corrected. It seemed she didn't see enough of him these days. Matthew was deeply displeased as he watched the car drive off.
As he walked along side his mother she told him she had been talking to Lord Merton about the updated ex-ray machines.
"You could give it a try if you want to."
"I'm supposed to go up to London with Edith today."
"It won't take very long and the images are much clearer."
On their way over to the village hospital, which was just down the street, he asked her, "back on speaking terms?"
"He thinks we're getting along. Even though I caution him that nothing will come of it. That man is so incorrigible it's annoying."
Matthew smirked at that.
She was right. They were much clearer. It took an hour for the images to get done but he still had an hour left before he and Edith departed for London. Plenty of time. The x-ray showed that he had a piece of shrapnel still in him. His mother said he did not have to have it removed if he didn't want to. He could also see where the spine, his spine, had been partially transected. It fascinated him. The science behind the machinery. "It must make a point to your argument that I could have been a doctor if I had set my mind to it. Don't you think? That I would have been a good doctor?"
They walked out of the hospital, Isobel's arm linked with his.
"It means you just have adverse interests in many areas. That's what makes you interesting. I think that's why Mary loves you so much."
"Mother." He grumbled at her. There was more to him than that. But he hardly wanted to talk to her about it.
It made her smile. After so long, she finally felt that he was truly her son again. "You have a mind of your own. I think it's truly wonderful." She paused, just to look at him, as they walked out of the hospital. He should be using his chair but they would only be out for a short time. Her beautiful boy that had become a handsome young man. It was hard to believe he was now middle aged. An age that was a death sentence for people like him but since he was walking a bit more, and didn't use his chair as much, which met less of sitting up for long hours, improved his quality. There was a possibility that he could live a long life, however small. He noticed that she was staring at him. He turned, waiting for her to say something else. "That you're helping Edith."
"I very much doubt she'd want a man's help chasing off this Skinner character."
"That might be so but she'll thank you in the end. Everyone deserves a friend in their corner."
Robert asked Mary about what Finch had wanted. He had come back an hour after his errands. Tally had just brought the children in. George went to Mary, Josephine to Rachel, (who greeted her, Hello, my darling. How was your day?") and Katie who could hardly toddle went over to Edith, demanding to be lifted up. Edith picked her up and placed her on her lap. Mary was briefly amused. Seems like she's replaced Tom with her as well. I shouldn't be jealous. If it helps them.
"Mallton is holding an early Fat Stock Show this year." Mary said, playing with George with his stuffed fox.
"Is it worth the bother?"
"I think so. Two of the pigs are proven winners, after all. I'm going to head over there later today to have a look at them."
"Can we come?" George asked.
"I don't see why not. I'll tell Nanny."
Edith thought it a great idea, as she would be away and not able to help watch them, though there was no need for her to, she loved to spend time with the children. Just not today.
When Matthew arrived in London with Edith, she offered that he could wait in the sitting room. He listened to her arguing with her editor from the archway. It was becoming quite heated. She shouldn't be wasting her time.
"Edith...why don't we go have lunch and then we can come back?"
"There's no point. I don't need your help."
She spent some time upstairs, he decided to go up to check on her. She apologised to him. It wasn't him that she was mad at. He recommend that they could get food ordered in. "It's too late to go back now and we've already missed the train. We can stay here. You can take the bed and I can take the sofa." He saw her teary eyed expression, she immediately looked away, trying to conceal it. "if it's too much for you, I can take the bed." He added.
"I have a better idea. Why don't we stay and have dinner at Aunt Rosamund's? It will much easier than staying here or at a hotel." She tried to make it sound like she meant that it would be easier on him with the wheelchair, which was true. Who knew what obstacles they could encounter. That and they would be away from prying eyes, the last thing they needed, when they both looked a mess. Not to mention it would be more appropriate. What would Mary think, if we stayed a night together alone? She would know it meant nothing but I'll never hear the end of it if he got an infection or got hurt somehow from some dingy hotel. What would Bertie think? They were just friends, just as much as she and Matthew were but had a close bond with Matthew and she hardly knew Bertie. She mustn't think of him now, what she could possibly feel for him, when to her Michael was barley cold in his grave. I just want to be further away from this place at the moment.
She was glad that the cab was big enough to accommodate his wheelchair or they would have had to stay at Michael's flat. She wouldn't be alone (she had summoned enough courage just to look at his things) but she couldn't stay there, not yet.
Once they got to Rosamund's modest town house he called Mary saying they got held up in London and would have to stay the night at her Aunt's. The surprise would have to wait till he got back.
"I don't see why any form of compromise is beyond him." Edith spoke to her Aunt.
"You wanted a strong editor." She chuckled. Her servant entered with a letter for her. She took the letter and Edith and Matthew took the two glasses of sherry. "Thank you, William." Rosamund replied.
Edith glanced at Matthew, who was looking over his glass at her Aunt as the boy retreated. He must be alright with it now. William is a common name. She thought. And she didn't see any sign of distress.
"Mary's coming tomorrow. She has an appointment in Harley Street and wants to shop for some new clothes."
Matthew listened closely to the clues. Harley Street. New clothes. Maybe his suspicion was right.
"I ought to do some shopping while I'm here. I haven't had anything new in ages." Edith said, excitedly.
Rosamund excused herself to the powder room for a moment.
"Why not go shopping together?" Matthew asked Edith. Women liked to shop. It could be a thing that they have in common to bond over and the best way to patch things up between the two of them.
"With Mary? Not likely." She set down her glass.
He set down his. "What have you decided to do about your flat?"
"I think I'm going to keep it empty and see if I get any use of it."
"You aren't ready to move in." From how she had sounded earlier, he wondered if it was because there would be too many ghosts for her. He had just seen one. Metaphorically. He had thought, for a moment, if he didn't look at the boy, he could still imagine...he mentally shook his head, pressing the scar on the palm of his hand. He couldn't help but think that at times when he heard his name. It was as common as Robert, Thomas, or Michael.
"I should be." She should be getting over him. "I suppose the truth is I've never lived alone and I'm not convinced I'll be much good at it." She found it far more frightening than letting go of Michael. He might not know what it was like to loose the love of your life but he understood loss.
"Beware of being too good at it. It can be very hard, being alone."
"But you're not al...oh." She set her eyes on the floor. It must have been very lonely when he'd been out there fighting the war, and with all his friends dead, and with Tom being gone. She supposed she was the only friend around that he had left. She was determined to be a good friend to him. She wanted to tell him that but didn't quite know how to word it, finding she had nothing else left she could say.
"I used to be. At times I still do. I was used to it growing up, when I was away at school."
"Cambridge?" Maybe she would go to college if nothing else opened up for her.
He shook his head. "Boarding School. Nothing too fancy I'm afraid."
She nodded back in understanding. Mary had once threatened her when they were children that she would be sent away to one, saying that that's where parents sent the children that they didn't want. Of course she knew that wasn't the case now. Before she could ask any questions about it, Rosamund came back in, announcing dinner.
The next evening as Mary got ready for dinner, she decided to hold off on the surprise till afterwards. He was growing so impatient, he wished she would just tell him, though he did already expect what it was. He told her about London.
"I can't think why she doesn't just sack the wretched man and find someone else. Unless she enjoys racing up to London and stealing you away from me." She emphases dictated that she was teasing.
"No one could steal me away." He pulled her over to the chair and kissed her hand. "I just wish you two would find some common ground."
"We already have. Tom used to be the go between Edith and I. I replaced him as agent, I don't need you to replace him, in that way." She went over to the vanity and grabbed an envelope, "Speaking of which, I've had a rather sad letter from him." She opened it up and began to read, "I dreamt last night that I was at the park at Downton, walking with Sybie under the great trees, listening to the pigeons cooing in their branches and when I woke my eyes were filled with tears. I owe him a letter."
"I'll write to him as well. What was the surprise you wanted to tell me?"
"You kept me waiting. I won't tell you till after dinner. "
Anna came in to help her finish up. Mary shooed him from the room. "Down you go, Mr. Crawley. I don't want to give you any ideas." And worked up too early.
"Maybe I prefer you wear nothing at all." He gave her a peck on the cheek and headed downstairs.
"Have you headed Doctor Ryder's advice?" She asked Anna. She had been having difficulty getting pregnant and had asked Mary about it months before. She knew how she and Matthew had struggled. Mary assumed that it could be stress and anxiousness of trying. But they couldn't be certain. She recommended that she go to the Doctor's in Harley Street. Anna started to protest that she couldn't afford it and couldn't demand that of her. Mary told her it wouldn't be a problem and she would take her as she had an appointment herself. Turned out Anna had just needed a simple surgery. Mary had gone to London earlier in the day for a follow up appointment.
"I have."
"That means...Lord knows it wasn't Bates!"
Anna chuckled, "Honestly, mi 'lady. If I repeated some of the things you say downstairs.."
"How far are you?"
"Two months. And I don't want Mr. Bates to know anything at least until I'm almost showing."
"At the end of the third month I'll made another appointment and we'll whizz up to London."
"I don't want to be excited. Not until I know it's going to happen." Mary's smile tuned into a frown. She sounded like Matthew just now, the first few times they had tried, even when she announced she was a few months pregnant with George. All she could do was simply nod.
"Are you pregnant?" It was the first thing Matthew asked Mary after dinner. They had gone straight to their room. After he insisted on seeing the children.
"No. Not pregnant." She saw the beginnings of a frown on his face. "I know you're disappointed, but you asked me what I was in London for today and well, this is related to that." She got his full attention now. "I went to the doctor's to see if everything works lady wise. And it does. All we need to do is keep at it."
"Avoid the stress. Do my manly duties." He said seductively.
"Do to me as you wish. I got just the thing for that." She had bought some lingerie to try on for him, to see if it would help him. Doctor Jacobson said he needed stimulation as it was hard for him. And it worked! When she was finished she was completely soaked, she thought it was her. She put her hand between her legs to wipe some of away. When she looked down she realised it was from him. "I haven't seen that much come from you."
"Now we know what works." He laughed breathlessly and kissed her, happily, full on the mouth. What she had picked out at the fashion show hadn't worked. He was glad that they had found something that did. "I'll let you go clean up." He started to slide out from underneath her but she caught his arm.
"No."
He looked up at her, startled. Looking into those deep lusty pools, he relaxed, almost getting lost in them.
"If you can't feel me." He would never feel himself inside her or feel pleasure of that nature but he could still feel her pleasure. She wanted him to feel something else. "I want you to taste me, taste us." I want you to know what you taste like. She put her fingers to his lips, rubbing them. He moaned. It almost got him going again, although everything was quiet down there on the southern front. At least, he took a guess. He couldn't feel down below, not even there. He was way past feeling embarrassed and disgusted with himself for that aspect. They had found alternative ways to be psychical with each other. And they have been worth while discovering. Like just now.
She leaned over him and kissed him on the lips. When she drew her head back, he took in her face, marveling at her. What did I do to disserve a gracious woman like this? To share my love with and among other things.
"There will be more where that came from, I hope." She looked at him quizzically and intrigued. "That...we...have more time together like this. We'll need more..." But he was speechless. She had to kiss him again.
"Whatever you wish Mr. Crawley."
It was the summer of 1925 and the wedding of Rose McClare to Atticus Aldridge, was a success, thanks to Mary's careful months of planning. The food and dancing was exquisite. The guests were beautifully dressed and everyone agreed that they had seen no bride as lovely as this one, since Mary's own wedding. It was getting late in the evening. She danced with Atticus while Rose changed out of her dress, in to her honeymoon suit, and they would soon be off to his cousin's, then from there New York.
The announcement of Tony Gillingham and Mabel's marriage was announced in the papers. That was the last they would see of him.
The next wedding the following month Mary was happy she didn't have to plan, so she could spend time with Matthew and the children. Upstairs and down were invited to Daniel's and Tally's. As for Miss Hughes and Carson's they had decided on September. Carson had asked her to do nothing else other than stand up for him but she insisted. Robert asked Carson about the plans that he had.
"We already set a date, for September. As for a place for the reception..."
"You can have it here." Mary chimed.
"Robert agreed with her. "Absolutely. We can decorate the Servants' hall and make it look really special."
"That's kind mi'lord."
"Honestly, Papa. We'll decorate the Servant's Hall?" Mary whispered in disapproval as Carson exited the room. After all the years that Carson had stood in her corner, he was like a second father to her. He deserved better. "Surely we can do a little better than that."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want to discuss it all in a rush. We'll have a proper conversation later." She took the folded napkin off her lap, daintily placing it back on the table, before she got up, leaving the room.
What just happened? First Finch, now this? I think I've created a monster. Robert thought of his oldest daughter but he was so very proud. He was proud of both his daughters, wishing Sybil was here to see it all change.
Edith had announced that she had finally fired her editor and took it on with the help of her friend Bertie Pelham. Robert tried to look pleased. Things were changing too fast. Robert wondered if this friendship would become more. He didn't have to hope for long. Edith was already starting to fall in love with Bertie.
Soon she would invite him over to dinners. Matthew was the first to strike up conversation with him.
"I knew a Bertie once. Are you an Albert?"
"Herbert. It was my father's name and my grandfathers."
"I heard of your gallant rescue after Edith fired her editor at the paper."
"It was nothing, really." Bertie was being far too modest. "It was Edith who did all the work."
A few days before Carson's and Miss Hughes wedding, Edith introduced Bertie to her nieces and nephews.
"George, Josephine and Katie are Matthew and Mary's children. Sybie is my late sister Sybil's and Tom's daughter." Momentarily watching them sleep, she turned to him, blurting out, in a rush, thankful that it didn't wake the children, "I know it's last minute but...would you like to attend my Butler's and housekeeper's wedding?"
Before he could answer, they were interrupted.
Matthew came up to check on the children. Edith knew part of his true intentions, he wanted to get to know Bertie.
"Hope I'm not interrupting." He said. "I wanted to check on them."
"No. Not at all."
"I wouldn't mind the company." Bertie said. He sounded eager. He did like children and wanted some of his own someday, but he had never been around them much.
Edith made an excuse that she should head back down, they would be wondering where she was.
"Your wife and I had the most interesting conversation. She's quite something, isn't she?"
"She can be. Depends on what the 'something' is."
"Please don't take that as an insult. On the contrary, I meant the highest compliment." He rocked on the balls of his feet. Most likely a nervous habit, Matthew observed, everyone had one. "So. How long have you been married?"
"Five years now." He wondered why Bertie would ask. Surely he didn't have the intent of marrying Edith. They had only know each other a short while.
"You certainly filled the nursery up fast." Why did he say that?
"Trust me. It wasn't easy."
Matthew tried to think of what to say next. He couldn't approach him like he had Gregson. Besides, he didn't look like a fishing man. Hunting man perhaps. But that was out of the question. What would be the best way to approach him?
Every person has a different personality and so, you must talk what comes to you naturally. Coaching lessons do not help and might embarrass you. I could find what his interests are, lay the ground work before I find out what his intentions are. God, I sound like an overbearing father. Would it be the same when it came to my own children someday, especially my daughters? What could we talk about? Sports? I don't have a tremendous knowledge of sports, besides cricket and badminton, none of which I could play.
But the mood was already embarrassing and awkward.
It didn't quite help when Mary walked in. "Ah, looks like I'm here just in time to rescue you." It wasn't clear on who she was saying it to. It could have been both of them.
"Is he always this interrogative?" Bertie asked, humorously.
"Just when it comes to Edith's lovers. He did interrogate the last one."
Bertie smiled but then it fell away as he confused about what she meant. Matthew, without Bertie seeing, gave Mary a warning glance.
21st September 1925
It was George's birthday. For his fourth birthday, Mary wanted to start George on riding lessons. Just like his mother, he was a natural. He grew to share her love of horses in a short amount of time. Jo wanted to go out riding, but she was too young yet. Mary promised her next year when she was the same age George was now. Mary decided to take him out riding. Matthew told them to be careful as the ground was still a bit icy and wet.
"I'll give him the most tamed pony."
"Do be careful, miss." Mr. Faircliff warned. "It looks it might become treacherous. There might be a storm brewing."
"We won't go far. Thank you, Faircliff."
She held on to the reins as well as George's, as they rode side by side. She showed him all the places she loved as a child, the secret places she had hid from the nanny with her sisters.
"I probably shouldn't have told you that. Don't get any ideas." The two of them exchanged smiles, a secret language between them. They knew he wouldn't. He was the perfect prince and gentlemen. His eyes crinkled round the corners, just like his father's.
They went back to the house before the weather started getting bad. She took George down to the kitchen, along with Josephine, where Miss Patmore was making his birthday cake. He asked if he could lick the bowl.
It had started to downpour as soon as they had made it up to the house, but the actual storm didn't officially make t's way over the Yorkshire village till late in the evening. The thunder often used to bring on Matthew's nightmares. The distant rumblings must sound like exploding shells and gunfire. The first few years they were married, it had been the worst, he would call out, shouting and crying, calling out names she did not recognise, some she did (when it had been really bad and she could not wake him, all she could do was wait) up until a year ago they had lessened. He would occasionally moan or whimper, or slightly jolt. But this night, she watched him sleep, calmly, his body relaxed. She put her arm round him and placed her head on his chest. He did not stir. Blissfully undisturbed. This means they can go away for good. My Matthew Crawley, you are not entirely lost or gone, you are found. I have found you.
Bertie had gotten the news that his cousin, Peter had died. The family was in a rather jovial mood before hearing about it themselves, but not about who Peter actually was. She asked them not to joke when he came. Mary felt bad for whoever was the new Marquess.
"He is the Marquess of Hexam. Bertie."
"Congratulations!" Matthew could hardly contain himself. "If Edith marries Bertie, she'll outrank us all!"
"Yes. Congratulations." Mary smiled but was internally gritting her teeth.
"Bertie did ask me to marry him!"
Mary felt as if she'd been stung. But she wouldn't lash out. Matthew had made her a better person but she couldn't help her feelings on the matter, it didn't mean she had to approve of it or like it. She would never forgive Edith for sending that letter. But it was time to grow up. She had more concerns with her own life, her husband and children and the estate to focus on and keep her busy.
The rest of the family continued congratulating them. Matthew and Robert were talking with Bertie. After a short while Matthew came back over to Mary.
"Giving up on the interrogation already?" She asked.
"If he's good for Edith, that's all that matters"
When they were the only one's left in the room, Matthew asked her, "Why can't you let your sister by happy?"
"She almost ruined my life."
"But she didn't, did she? I told you what revenge does to a person, not forgiving someone does the same. Just let your sister be happy. Make peace with her, then you can start making peace with yourself."
Mary nodded, knowing he was speaking from experience. And so that was what she did. She went up to Edith's room.
"What are you doing in here? Come to put me in my place?"
"No...I...I know you will never forget the pain that I caused, but we're sister's and there should be nothing you can do that is so bad that can not be forgiven. It may not bring us close, but I want us to have a relationship. I know I've had said some hurtful things or when I'm going through something or angry with myself, I lash out. I don't think before I say things."
"That doesn't give you any excuse."
"Can't we at least try to get along?"
"For Sybil's sake?"
"No, for ours."
But Edith wasn't listening.
Well, Matthew, I tried. She turned to leave. No. She turned back, her head held high, "You see, there might come a time when we both need each other. One of the hallmarks of maturity is taking responsibility for your actions, and so I am. " If she still holds it over your head, so what? The sun will still rise in the east tomorrow morning. "When you sent that letter, I had been asking for it. I was in the wrong..."
"What did you say?"
"I was wrong."
"You actually mean it?"
"I do mean it, when I say I'm happy for you."
"I don't entirely forgive you but, I think we should try."
December 1925
The Christmas season was more fun than usual. It was also Tom's homecoming. He had arrived a few days before Christmas Eve, almost a year to the day he said he would return. They got caught up on old times.
"Well I thought we all had been expecting that, Mr. Carson and Miss Hughes. And Edith to be a Marchioness, who would have thought. Our Edith's done well for herself!" Tom exclaimed.
"Are you just visiting us or have you decided to stay?" Mary asked. She was still a little hurt from him leaving in the first place.
"Looks like I'll be staying. Sybie deserves a Christmas at Downton and hopefully many to come." He then went to join Matthew for some drinks.
"It's really quite simple really." Tom was telling Matthew. "I had to go all the way to Boston and figure something out and that's what I did."
"Well go on, what was it?" Mary pressed.
It was a question that Matthew couldn't bring to ask. He wished it would have been that simple for him. To just go away somewhere, and find himself, where he fit in.
"I learned that Downton is my home and that you are my family."
But he had found his way, a way to live, in the form of his wife and children. Tom gazed happily at the family, especially the children.
George, who was being held by his grandfather demanded to be put down, "Put me down, Donk!" and once he was released, ran over to his cousin to give her a hug, "Sybie!"
Josephine followed suit. Katie seemed a little reluctant. She had been too little to have remembered Sybie or Tom. She looked back at the adults, as if to say, who are these strangers?
"Go on and say hello." Her mother urged her.
"Hello." Katie said shyly. Sybie put her arms around her.
The little ones begged to open their presents next. Mary relented, "Alright, just one each. Or Father Christmas won't bring you anymore."
Mary loved seeing the children's faces light up as they opened their gifts. It was hard to believe how much they had grown. George who was four, Josephine had already turned three, and little Katie, nearly two! And she had one on the way.
She seemed quite bigger than normal, than her last two pregnancies and the morning sickness was the worst. Doctor Clarkson told her it was nothing to worry about, and she wasn't carrying twins, ( Matthew had playfully suggested that she might be) for he hadn't heard a second heart beat. Anna was also pregnant and looked about to give birth at any moment. At least one of their children would be close in age. She had told Anna. She supposed it was that way with best friends or siblings sometimes. They would be three or four months apart! "I hope they could be friends like us. Even if one or the other is the opposite sex." She had but her hand on her stomach, turning sideways to look at herself better in the mirror. She did look larger. All that matters is the baby's health and Matthew will still love me. He couldn't care less what I look like.
On Christmas morning she and Matthew took the children on a sleigh ride. Matthew was as bundled up as the children, of course. Mary had Bates make up hot water bottles to place on the seats.
Together they made snowballs, while Matthew stayed in the sleigh where it was warm (Katie snuggled on his lap), until George and Josephine started pelting each other with them. Then it was time to go back to the house.
"Carson can bring us up some hot cocoa. " She told them when they started to protest. That drew them inside in an instant.
Despite taking precautions Matthew had caught a chill and was in bed until almost New Years. It could have to be watched carefully, it could turn into pneumonia. But it didn't. He was back up in no time, from the bed at least, as he spent time walking around their bedroom to rebuild his strength.
On the thirty-first, the night of Edith's wedding to Bertie Pelham, Anna gave birth to a baby boy. She insisted on a name, calling him Johnny, because they couldn't keep calling him baby Bates.
March 1926
"I though I'd take a walk in the garden. I might sit on the bench for a while." She announced to Matthew before going out.
"Do you want to bring a book?" He asked.
"Yes, please. Tell Anna to bring me some lemonade and bring me some pickled radishes, if you can find any."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. I don't want to send her on a lot of silly requests. She's got her own baby to take care of now."
"I'll be sure to. If I can find them." He gave her a kiss and a pat on the tummy. "Make sure he doesn't come out while I'm gone."
"Don't be so sure it's a boy." She said, not wanting to get his hopes up if it were a mere girl. He wanted another boy, not just to secure the future of the estate if something happened to George but for his playmate. It would be nice to have another boy in the house.
"If it's a girl that size, we have serious problems." He gave a chuckle.
She started to have contractions that afternoon. It was too early. Two months early. It would be premature. She couldn't imagine the complications. She could not and would not have this baby yet. This couldn't be happening. They couldn't lose the baby. Haven't they faced enough tragedy for one lifetime or twice over?
They managed to get her into the car, she being vaguely aware of it, kept muttering, "it's too soon, it's too soon." However she was somehow aware of Matthew's arms around her. Instead of saying everything will be alright, he says, "I've got you darling. What ever happens."
Clarkson assured them that it was just false contractions and that they were having twins.
Matthew's jaw almost went to the floor in disbelief. "Are you sure, Doctor Clarkson?"
"I'm quite sure."
"But, there was only one heart beat." Mary looked back and forth at Matthew and Clarkson, bewildered.
He went on to explain why he hadn't heard the second one. One twin must have been hiding behind the other.
May 1926
Mary had grown used to the idea of twins. She had started to refer to them as 'the babies' "What do you think we should name the babies?" or "When the babies come..." And "They're both kicking up a storm." He loved the way she touched her stomach, absolutely glowing, more so than he had thought possible. "When one starts, the other one does. These babies are turning me into a human punching bag." and he never got tired of it, the way she would speak to them.
It was the ninth, the day before Matthew's birthday. He was dreading forty-one but she tried giving him confidence, saying it looked good on him and seductively giving him a kiss.
"And if you're lucky enough, these babies could share your birthday."
He didn't tell her the truth why he was unsettled. He was lucky enough to have lived this long. He would be lucky to live another five years, ten would be stretching it. He felt guilty for strapping her with twins, with so many children. She would have a loving family to support her. But it wasn't the same as a loving husband's. Not the same as a love from a father, which a child needs, that he might not be able to give for long. He must not worry about that now. He had to be there for her, make the best of their time. He made it this far.
Mary was in the dinning room with Anna that evening, just as she was cleaning up. She was drinking a glass of milk, when Anna heard a splash on the floor.
"I'll get it, mi'lady." She rushed to grab the mop.
Mary put out her hand, "No. It wasn't the milk. My waters broke!" She had startled Anna and it made her start to laugh. She must think she's lost it.
Matthew came in, a worried expression on his face, "Is something wrong? I sensed something..."
"Tell Hornsby to pull the car round. I'm having the babies."
"Are you sure?"
As he asked, she closed her eyes, as the contractions began, quickly they became increasingly painful.
She was brought in and admitted to the hospital and taken to the birthing room to get situated. The memory of Sybi's death, that had haunted him all those years ago, came back.
They could loose her or the babies or both, he feared.
He asked the nurse, about her pain level, what they could do to manage it, that she didn't have this much pain or difficulty during the last few births.
"Everything will be fine." The nurse said. "Though it could take all night at this rate."
He grew pale. He couldn't imagine having her going through this that long. He wanted to be in the room with her but he wasn't allowed. Down the hall he heard her wails of agony. He no longer cared if it wasn't proper. He had to be with her.
"Does that sound fine to you? I demand to see her at once!" His face started turning red and he started to breath heavily, "If anything happens to her..."
"Husband's aren't allowed to see the mother during the birth, and you're giving all the reason why it isn't, Mr. Crawley."
He then felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was Anna. She got him to come back and sit back on the bench. She didn't say anything, just listened for his breathing to steady, before she asked, "is there anything that I can do for you, Mr. Matthew?"
"Go back to the house and inform the family." He said to her. She nodded. But then he grabbed her hand, "But...Tell them not to come for a few hours. I'll call them to let them know when to arrive. I want to be with my wife. Before all the commotion starts!" He refused to think the worst.
Soon they would have two yowling healthy babies, boys or girls. Maybe one of each. He was extremely delighted, entertaining the idea.
After four hours of what seemed like an eternity, the doctor came out of the delivery room, almost exactly one minute after midnight. Matthew stood and went over to him. He had regained his control over his temper and emotions but he could hardly contain the positive ones.
"Congratulations Mr. Crawley, you have a beautiful boy!" The doctor said. Matthew was too overjoyed to detect the slight hesitation in his voice.
"That's great news! George is always badgering for a brother to play with, that's my oldest. He and I won't be spending the rest of our lives surrounded by a household of women, though we'd still be fretfully outnumbered. The other is a girl then!"
The doctor wasn't smiling. "Mr. Crawley, might I have a word in the other room." He followed him to a room adjacent to the waiting area. "It was indeed a girl."
"Was." Matthew silently whispered, rubbing his hand over his face. At the doctor's next words, he blinked back the tears starting to well in his eyes. He sunk down into a chair.
"She was stillborn." Matthew was barely listening now. He said something about she must had died not long ago in the womb, wasn't given enough nutrition to survive. "We don't know why these things happen."
"Can I see her?"
"In a few moments. The nurse is preparing your son for her to see him."
"My daughter." Matthew corrected the doctor.
"I don't think that would be wise. It could be distressing."
"It will help."
It didn't. She was in a basin, in a sink, covered with a sheet. He thought perhaps holding her would help. It didn't.
She was so tiny that she could fit in his hands, so tiny he didn't need his chair to hold her, leaning sideways against the counter to support himself. Her little face was already blue and had a waxy appearance, except for her tiny feet that dangled out, that were still pink. It was more disturbing than anything he had seen on the battlefield.
He wanted to cry, to yell, anything. Yell at the doctor for discarding their daughter like a piece of trash. But he couldn't. He had to be there for Mary as she had for him. They couldn't both fall apart.
He wanted to blame someone, anyone. But it wasn't anyone's nor the doctor's fault. At least they had the decency to wrap her in a blanket. He placed her back in the basin but couldn't bring himself to place the sheet back over her.
"Send her over to Graspie's" He said as the doctor covered her for him. "I don't want my wife to see her like this."
"Of course. I'll give you a moment." The doctor stopped at the door for a moment before turning back, "You can take her to the chapel if you like, while we make the preparations." He said. "I'll have someone come get you when your son is ready to bond with mother."
He took her to the chapel and talked to her, just talked without looking at her still, quiet face, rocking her a bit as if she were alive. When the nurse came he almost didn't want her to take his precious daughter away. He could feel the emptiness after she was lifted out of his arms but he still felt like she was there.
"You can be with your wife now, Mr. Crawley. It's best you be there with her, for the news."
He gave a small nod. For a few seconds he remained seated, gripping his hat with all the strength as if it could absorb it. He needed all the strength he's ever had.
They had brought Andrew in for her to hold and bond with him. Then Mary asked about the other baby. The nurse took him from her arms and set him in the bassinet. She hadn't believed when the doctor said that their daughter did not survive.
"No, it isn't true. Give me my baby."
"She's being sent over to Graspsie's." She was being transferred as they spoke. Mr. Crawley had made the right call. He didn't recommend that mother's view their dead babies. The news of it was already difficult to bear.
"No. You've made a mistake. I felt her. I felt two."
"Mrs. Crawley, often times..." The doctor began but he was interrupted as Mary went into deeper hysterics. Was that how he had sounded, Matthew wondered, when he had been going through his episodes, the nightmares? She had been there for him through it all. It was his time to be there through it with her. He couldn't fall apart and he wouldn't. She had given that to him. But he couldn't have told her this. He let them explain it all while he held her hand, the gesture letting her know that he was here and they could, will get through this.
"Where's my baby? I want my baby." She couldn't, wouldn't believe it. They had to be lying. It had to be some mistake. A mix up. Why wasn't Matthew saying anything?
"She didn't live. She was too small to." The nurse informed, gently.
"No, you're lying. I want my baby. Where's my baby? Matthew, tell them." He'd set them straight. But as she turned her head to look at him, she saw the truth in his eyes. She didn't want to hear the words, not from him. Shaking her head she gave a small, "No."
He had to tell her now, even though it broke his heart to see her world being torn apart. He'd pick up the pieces this time. For better or for worse. That is what they had promised. "It's true, darling." Matthew comforted his wife. He sat beside her. He wiped away her tears, but they kept coming. He smoothed her hair before placing his hand there. "I'd give anything to wish it was not. But it is. But." He said as he took her hand, "we have a healthy boy, a beautiful boy, to love and take care of, and our other children." He held her tightly against him as she clung to him. The family was called and informed when they arrived. Matthew couldn't tell them, not only did he think he would fall apart at the moment, Mary needed him and she didn't want him to leave her. Robert wanted to be with his daughter but she only wanted to be with her husband.
Matthew had to be the one to tell the children. Katie was only two, too young to understand. George and Josephine were almost five and four. They were more quizzical and aware about the world around them. They were confused when only one baby was brought home and not two. They wondered where the second baby in their mummy's tummy went.
"He looks all squashed and wrinkly." Josephine said as she peered down at him, wrinkling her own nose. Matthew had to smile as she greeted her new baby brother, George joining in, while Katie was temporarily interested. George started to look around. Matthew's stomach sank, his heart began to race. He knows who he's looking for.
"Where's the other one?" He asked. Then he looked at the doors, expecting someone to bring the other baby in.
"I thought there would be two." Josephine suddenly remembered.
"There was. You had a baby sister."
"Where is she?" Katie asked. "Will the nurse bring her?"
"Are they bringing her soon?" George looked round his father at the double doors again
"No." His voice was almost a whisper. He could feel his eyes start to fill with moister but he kept the tears at bay. "No." He repeated, strong this time.
George frowned.
"Why not?" Asked Josephine. "Where did she go?" She was growing a bit frustrated and worried. Papa was sometimes weepy after he had a nightmare.
"The baby wasn't strong enough to live outside of mummy's tummy." He started to explain.
"Is the nurse with her now?" Katie asked again.
Matthew shook his head, her little voice almost breaking him apart. His heart ached for them for they were blissfully unaware. Katie was growing listlessly bored, he could tell, she always swung her arms and body back and forth when she was, putting her arms in her sleeves. The action to him felt cold, cruel, uncaring. She's only two years old. He rationalised with himself. She can't comprehend the situation and you want to direct your anger at someone. Yes, he was angry. That was one of the stages of grief, wasn't it? It was nice to know that he was, even though it didn't feel like it.
"Can I go now?" She asked. Tally came into the foyer. Spotting her, Katie ran over to her. "Briny!" She tugged on her arm. "Briny come with me to play upstairs!" She loved Tally to play dolls with her. "Jo's a meanie to my dollies."
"Am not!"
"It is alright if I take her, Mr. Matthew?" Tally asked, the little girl taking her hand.
He nodded. "Yes, go ahead Tally. Thank you."
As they departed for the nursery, Matthew tried to think of a way to further explain to his older children. They knew about heaven but could not quite grasp the terms of death, that it was final. He put it in the best way he could.
"She went up to heaven."
"To be with the angels?" This was from George.
"To right. Now, I want you to listen, because this is very important. This is very hard...on all off us right now and I want you to be extra nice and patient with your dear Mama."
"We can do that!" George said in his big boy voice.
"Good. Now go up and play. And don't disturb your mother. She needs her rest."
Mary's demeanor changed when she was brought home, uninterested in the baby. They hired a wet nurse, who desperately tried to encourage her to spend time with him. It was his father who fed and nappied him, which the nurse discouraged, that it could hinder mother-baby time.
"He needs his father too. A bond with his father is just as important." He told her and continued to tend to his son, "you know I wear one of these but one day you'll grow out of them. It's a lot more easier to change you." He no longer was embarrassed about his occasional incontinence and could make light of it. "I'll bring him up to his mother in a bit. Maybe that will help." He suggested. And that's what he did. He had brought him up to his mother. She took him in his arms, for the first time not refusing him, smiling down at him, briefly. She'll take to him now. Matthew was sure.
"I should have both of them." She says, softly. Then her tone and expression turns to anger as she looks up at Matthew. "This is your fault. You did this. You wanted a boy." Robert had heard the commotion and stopped in the doorway of the room. Mary directed her attention toward him. "Both of you wanted this!"
"She doesn't know what she says, Mr. Crawley. Lord Grantham. She's in pain right now." The nurse said. She went to take the baby from her arms, but Mary moved out of her reach. They won't take him away too. "No. I want him. Leave him. Tell them to go."
"Lady Mary needs to be left alone for the moment." They were shuffled from the room.
"Well, it is a start." Robert said.
Matthew began to think, what if it was his fault? Maybe he was being punished for his actions in the war. But he shook it away. He wouldn't let his mind control his thoughts, not when his wife and children needed him most.
The funeral took place a few days later. Matthew sat next to his mother, sharing an umbrella. The drizzling cold of the weather crept in to his bones. He wasn't sure if it was just the weather or his old injury. Isobel could barley keep her focus off her son. She didn't want to see the tiny coffin being lowered into the ground. He was staring straight ahead, not watching it either. He appeared unfazed. But everyone knew he was keeping it together for the children, while Mary looked gaunt and pale, standing alone. One would expect a mother to stand with her husband and children, who were in the back row, with Nanny O'Brien, formally Stevens and Nanny Wallace. Mary simply didn't care, sensing eyes on her. Let them think I'm the ice queen that I am.
"If you need help with anything, if she needs any one to talk to..."
"Please, not here, mother." He begged, a sternness, etched with a kind of pain that Isobel knew all too well. "We don't need any help." After a second he asked, could you get the chauffer to take me back to the house? If I get sick it won't do the children any good."
After the funeral, there was to be no reception, only immediate family. Matthew came downstairs after seeing Mary to bed. Tally and nanny Wallace were outside with the children, the weather now sunny and clear, mirroring the opposite of what everyone else was feeling.
Bertie seeing his brother in-law sitting alone in his chair, came over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how it feels. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, we all are. How would you like to get out and grab a drink sometime. If you're up to it."
"No thanks, Bertie."
"If there's anything I can do..."
He just stared off, saying nothing else. Bertie couldn't really blame him. It really was a taxing time. So many dead. You never got used to it. You'd think all this death would stop after the war. Eight years since it ended. He couldn't imagine the horror of it, what Matthew could be seeing behind his eyes, even though he had witnessed the same.
The man had comforted his wife, not moments ago. Not him, her own husband. They were close friends. He had no reason to be jealous. A part of Bertie was glad that he hadn't had to, displaying such emotion in public , he was not accustomed to. Having lived with his mother's verbal abuse and his father had been a quiet man, never standing up for him or for himself. But this was not about him. He wanted to be closer to his wife's friend, so that he could feel closer to her, and he genuinely wanted to help him. It also was a deep resonating hurt Bertie felt, (bringing up the memories of his cousin though it was nowhere near the extent of his and Mary's and the rest of the family, as he had only know the family a short while) to see him in such pain. With so much he had suffered in the war.
A second passed and he snapped back to it, from wherever he had gone, and wheeled away. Edith was making her way over to Bertie.
"I wish I knew how to talk to him." Bertie told his wife. "That there was a way to get through to him."
"I'll talk to him."
Her Aunt said she thought she saw him go off in the direction of the library.
He was sitting alone.
"We're heading out. I thought I'd say goodbye to everyone..."
Suddenly he broke down. She pulled him into her arms and he cried against her for several minutes.
"I hadn't been able to do that before, worrying that once I started crying I would never be able to stop." She let him talk, because of course she couldn't say anything, and held him until he was ready to let go.
Just hours before he had put his arms around her, trying to comfort her, (his sister in-law and not his own wife! They were comforting each other. Mary should be the one. She doesn't deserve him. She couldn't help but think at the time but then stopped herself. Grief affects people in strange ways.) he had been sitting between her and his mother. Edith had been sitting behind them between her Aunt and Bertie but had moved to sit next to Matthew for a moment. Travis had started speaking before she could go back to her seat and thought it rude to do so then, so she had stayed put. Matthew had stared straight ahead, not looking at the tiny casket while it was being lowered. He hadn't even looked at it as it had been taken out of the hearse. He had faced the other direction and asked Aunt Rosamund seated behind them, who Edith had been talking to, to tell him when the casket was out.
He withdrew from her embrace and thanked her after and said "I needed that."
She put her hand on his shoulder and turned to leave. With a slight hesitation, she looks back. "He means well. Bertie. He wants to help. You'll find that you're both more a like than you think."
Several hours later Matthew came back to the library, after checking on Mary. He asked Robert to have a word, telling him that Mary was resting.
"That's good. She needs it." He half turned to his son in-law, thinking. "You know you can come to me for just about anything. If you need to talk to someone Isobel and I know what you're going through."
"I didn't come for a comparison. I wanted to discuss how the buildings were coming along."
"Yes, of course."
Matthew mentioned the ideas that he and Mary had, one of the lands had a small creek, they planned on taking the children to; he couldn't finish his thought. Robert closely examined him, and came to the conclusion that he needed rest too. He looked on the verge of collapse, even though he was sitting.
"Go on up to bed. You look overwrought."
"I'm fine." He did kind of feel like it. Come to think of it, he didn't know what he felt other than numb, like the lower half of his body that occasionally still feel like he was floating. "I need to keep busy, Robert." Or he'd drive himself crazy with grief. He prayed that Mary's wouldn't. No. She would pull through. She was his storm braver.
"Go to bed." It was an order, not a suggestion. He could go at it with Robert for treating him like a misbehaved child, sending him up to his room, but he simply didn't have the energy. "Overwork can make you sick, trust me, I know. Be with your wife."
He saw that Mary was still awake, Andy was in the bassinet beside the bed.
"Let's go to bed, darling." He said. It was best that she got some rest while the baby was sleeping.
"I didn't mean what I said to you and Papa." She didn't know why she had.
"I know what it's like. You start having thoughts you don't want to think."
She nods. "I'm sorry I've been away. It's not fair to you that you've had to take on everything. I'm just not ready to..." To face the world or anything yet.
"Shh...it's alright. You've waited for me. Now it's my turn." He kissed her forehead and turned over on his side, away from her. They lay in silence. Mary stared up at the ceiling. Sleep would not come to right away. Her thoughts started to wonder. She had not once seen him cry or break down. Stressful situations could bring back his shell shock. But there had been nothing, that she had been aware of at least. He wasn't hiding it from her. It's been four years since his last episode, before George's birth. He hadn't had any nightmares either, but the last two nights she had driven him from their bed. He had taken the reins of their family, an efficient rock like figure, resuming his fatherly duties as if nothing had happened. She wanted to let him know that he didn't have to hide it. He should be letting his grief out. He fears if he does, he will fall apart too.
"It's ok not to be ok."
He turned back to her. "I have to. For the children. For you."
"We just lost a baby, Matthew." His face almost crumpled but he quickly disguised it with a grimace. "I know you're strong..."
"Mary." He reached out to touch her again. "My storm braver, more than I ever was."
"No, you are..."
"You were always the strong one." He kissed her again and she let him hold her. "How do you feel, my darling?"
"Safe."
But he could feel her pulling away again as she sunk back into her depression. He would keep his promise and wait for her.
Four months went by with no change in Mary. His mother came to see him. He could not protest it as her presence was somewhat welcoming.
He was clearly psychically and mentally exhausted, trying to reach his wife (even Isobel hadn't much luck to get through to her) and taking care of the children and all the while managing the estate. She had a word with Robert about it. Robert had already suggested that he take it easy, giving him no more than what he could apparently handle.
"The lack of what I'm giving him is the problem." Robert had said. "He accuses me of him barely little to work with, so that I can gain control over his part of the estate."
"But isn't that what you're doing?"
"No. Of course not! I think he needs to rest. He thinks no one else sees it when no one else is looking."
"I'll have a talk with him." But would neglect to tell Robert what about. She was up in his dressing with him now, discussing her concerns.
"I think it right that you stepped up to help take care of the children but you also need to take care of your health."
He wanted to protest against her, that she didn't need to worry that he'd 'fall apart' because he was 'too fragile" but he had no energy. He had wasted it, going at it with Robert.
"Let the nannies take care of them for a few days, take some time, spend them with your wife or yourself." When he said nothing she continued, "You look a little peaky, why not come over and I can make you a hot meal or two. It's been a while since I've had you for tea."
"I think I will." He sounded delighted at the idea.
That afternoon he telephoned Brancaster Castle. Bertie's mother Miranda answered the phone. When he asked to speak with Bertie, she asked who was calling. When he responded with his name, it was clear she was one of those who thought people like him shouldn't be seen nor heard. He could hear muffled arguing before Bertie came on the other end.
"Hello. Bertie, it's Matthew. I hope this isn't a bad time?"
There was a pause as Bertie put his hand over the receiver and gave his mother a glance that said, clear off. Leaned against a pillar, she shook her head, then left, Bertie turning his back to her.
"No. Not at all. Please forgive my mother. She is frivolous." What was it her business who he socialised with? She had only met him once at the wedding. His mother's first impression solidified her view of that person. There was no budging her. She had mostly talked to Mary. He heard his mother ask, more to herself, as Mary left to dance with her husband, (a bit bemused of the thought) what she got out of it. Bertie could have told her off but he didn't want her to spoil his and Edith's special day, causing a scene as she always did.
"Actually it is I that should be asking you forgiveness. I'm sorry for how I reacted, that day."
"You don't have anything to apologise for."
"I hope the offer still stand?" It sounded more like a question.
"Of course."
"I hope you don't mind that I invited Tom to join us."
"The more the merrier."
Bertie and Matthew had much more in common than they would have thought. They had come back to the house and joined Robert and Tom in the dinning room. The conversation had somehow come their fathers.
"I lost my father at a young age. Twenty-five. Eight years ago now."
"I was around that age when I lost mine. I was twenty-one. "
Mary had come down, only once in a long while, listening to them talk.
"What else is there that you like to do, Bertie? As you would have guessed I'm not much of a pub man."
"Neither am I to be honest. I only asked well, because I thought it a good way to break the ice so to speak."
"I'll tell you what I told Tom when he married into this family. He have to stick together to take on the Crawley girls."
"I like that."
Matthew gave a cheeky smile and whirled his glass. I thought you would.
"When I'm not hunting or managing the books, I do like to fish."
"Do you really? We should go sometime."
"I'm doing much more of that now, since Peter..."
"I think I'll be able to help you with that."
"If it's not to much..."
Tom came up to Mary, "Look who's got another friend."
"Yes. Not feeling replaced are you?"
"I don't mind it. He needs a distraction. It'll be good for him."
Plans did seem to fall apart though, as Matthew continued with the children's daily routines. He had no time to schedule outings, especially with the weather starting to get cold. Bertie said he understood even though he didn't. He didn't know what it was like to be a parent but he hoped that would change soon.
Matthew expressed to the both nannies and George's teacher to do the same. And if they had questions they should ask their parents. He wanted his children to maintain normalcy and routine to help them cope. Young children do best when they have a sense of normalcy and a predictable routine. He himself had come a long way because of it.
But they seemed to get on like nothing happened. Children were resilient.
When did he become an expert when it came to children?
He was a natural father. He saw to their needs and their questions. He was the one to explain to them because Mary could not.
"You might not understand, but Mama is going to be sad for a while. If she seem like she's crying too much, it's because she's thinking about the baby."
Their mother spend two hours with them each day at tea time like her mother had done with her.
Their Papa spend more time with them. They were hardly alone with the nanny, except when they went out to play or were put to bed. 'Papa can't move around too much' or 'sometimes his legs don't work' was all that was explained to them.
"Andy is there." Katie pointed and looked at her baby brother in his cot. He was a lot more mobile now, moving his arms and legs, pulling himself up, at five months.
"Why doesn't she just come to see him so she won't be sad?" Josephine asked. Was she forgetting already? With Katie it was understandable.
"Josephine, go to nanny, so she can get you ready, and take Katie with you." He said to his oldest daughter. It came out a frustrated tone.
She heavily sighed, already prone to dramatics just like her mother.
"Did we do something?" George asked. He wasn't sure what the boy was asking at first. Maybe he was picking up on the his and Mary's emotions and thought it was because of them? Children were also intuitive. "Were we bad?"
He was a bit shocked that a four year old would come to that conclusion. A dead baby and he comes up with the notion it was because he and his sisters were bad children. George was biting his lip to keep it from quivering, his eyes watering.
"Hey, come here" He pulled his son to him. "It's nobody's fault this happened. It's not your fault. It's not Mama's fault. It's not Daddy's fault. It's just something very sad that happened. And we're so glad we have the four of you."
"Are you sad?"
Matthew tried to hide his frown as he buttoned up his son's jacket. Nanny was going to take them out to play in the snow. He wanted to go with them but the cold weather would make his old war injury flare up and hard to move around (he had humoured them last Christmas when the went on a sleigh ride. And the heat from the hot water bottles Mary had ingeniously placed on the seat had helped with the pain somewhat) and he could catch another cold like last year. He wanted to be able to join them and Mary for tea, the only time all six of them were together. Late October and there was already snow on the ground.
"We may be sad now, but we are still a happy and healthy family. We are together, and we love one another." He straightened up, "now, wipe your eyes before your sisters see." He didn't want Katie to see, to further confuse and upset her, especially Josephine, she could be quite the bully.
It was November when Mary started to come out of her haze. She had spend far too long in the world of the dead. It was time to return to the world of the living. She hadn't just treated her husband horribly but also Carson. He had taken the brunt of her unhappiness and she had insulted him by 'putting him in his place' when he had called her out on her behavior. She went down stairs to apologise to him and burst out crying. She tried to hold it back but the floodgates gave way.
"There you go, mi'lady. It's alright. Let it all out. You have yourself a good cry." She had felt guilty about it, she should be sharing a moment like this with her husband. She could never thank him enough for keeping the family going, keeping them afloat. She had been so awful. She didn't deserve him.
Late February 1927
Mary went in for a checkup she had scheduled with doctor Clarkson, it took a fair amount of convincing from Matthew and Isobel. Clarkson wanted to get her weight back up a bit, after months of eating small meals at various intervals of the day.
"I'm afraid this will be your last appointment. I will no longer be your family doctor after the wedding." Clarkson said, after putting his small torch in to his pocket of his lab coat. Isobel came into view of the doorway, waving at them, the doctor smiling at his future wife. Mary looked astonished, glancing from Clarkson to Isobel, then to Matthew. Matthew wore a smile on his face, indicating that he already knew. "We've set the date for next month." Mary congratulated them both, though she'd be sad not to see him as their doctor anymore. He had done so much for Matthew.
Mary asked him why he hadn't told her, as she pushed him in his wheelchair round the hospital grounds. He decided on some fresh air after doctor Clarkson insisted to examine him as well. "Think of it as a parting gift." And gave him an efficient bill of health, though his lung capacity seemed a bit depleted but not dangerously so. He recommended some new exercises to add to his routine, getting fresh air was one of them. That one Matthew didn't mind as much.
"He told me in confidence not to tell anymore until he was certain there was to be a wedding."
"When was this?"
"In January."
"It seems all rather sudden don't you think?"
"Clarkson and mother have been seeing each other for a few years, shortly after she broke it off with Lord Merton. She didn't want anyone's feelings to get hurt so they were doing so in secret."
"Why did he come to see you about it? To ask you for your mother's hand in marriage?" She was getting a kick out of it now.
"Not exactly." He cleared his throat. "I don't know what I should call him. Shall I call him Richard or Clarkson?" It was a bit of an awkward situation. He was used to him being his doctor and a friend to his mother, beyond that, he would never have imagined them together. He supposed he had enough in common with her and his father. And he had done all he could for him, especially saving his life. Were they the reasons they were getting married? He didn't think that was enough of a strong basis to base a marriage upon. Although he wouldn't mind the man being his step-father. Not only the change in the dynamic would be a bit awkward, the man had seen...all of him, even naked. Joking about how he should address the man eased that awkwardness, just a smidge. Still he couldn't prevent his face from growing hot.
She craned her neck round at him, noticing that his face was a bit flushed. Was Matthew Crawley blushing?
"What ever feels right to you." She smiled and continued on pushing.
March 1927
The small wedding was held in the back garden of Crawley House, chairs lined up in a neat row. White blossoms rained down on the newly married couple. It reminded Mary and Matthew of their own wedding day. Little Katie was the flower girl, Josephine had wanted to be the flower girl and had throw a tantrum. Both of her parents came to a compromise with her that she could help Katie down the aisle and show her what to do) and instead of a ring barrier George carried Tene down the aisle with the rings tied to the bell collar round her neck. The guests had awed at the children. This made their father proud, holding his head high, smiling brightly, turning his head toward his wife. Intertwining their hands together, she had her eyes on him while his were on their wedding bands, a symbol of their unbreakable bond they had promised each other. As she gazed at him, her eyes filling with love, oh, how impossible it seemed to love him anymore than she did. She recalled his words to her on the day of George's birth, I fall more in love with you with each day that passes. Those words were just as true for her. They lamented on their own special day. He still thought he looked like a fool in that photograph.
"But you're my fool."
He could hardly restrain himself from laughing at her response. "If their children ever asked to see our wedding photos, I'm not going to show them that one."
"They only see their papa. And they will see that one. The rest I'm going to hide from you."
Isobel scanned the crowd from where she stood, looking for her son. When she finally found him, he and Mary were sitting close together, both of them had this shining brightness about them that she had seen in herself and Reginald in their youth. Now she would share with Richard. Matthew was leaning over whispering to his wife, and she looking at him as a wife filled with undying love did. When he pulled away Isobel caught his smile, the most brightest and genuine she had ever seen since he had come back from the war. Proof that life goes on! Everything is going to be alright. More than alright! She knew they could get past the grief and sorrow, and find their way back to each other, though it would never truly be gone.
Looking across at his lovely wife, he felt they had more than enough to get through and could start living again. They needed this trip, a chance to further heal.
AN: A few days late getting this done. I was going to post on our favouirte character's birthday, Matthew's birthday on the tenth! A little happiness here and there for everyone. And some sadness, I won't try to drag on the loss of baby Beth Crawley. It's just too sad. You can fill in how the rest of family over came the struggle with their grief. I want to focus on Matthew and Mary. Their love that transcends time and can outlast anything. I re-wrote this chapter for you all so it can be the best it could be! Next Chapter a Holiday in Paris?