Downton, Autumn 1924

The fifth time Mary saw Tom naked was the first time it wasn't an accident.

After she'd caught him in the buff at the agent's house a few weeks ago, they had danced around each other, both of them feeling something was changing between them, but neither of them pushing it. They had carried on working together, playing with their children, and generally living life as normal.

One afternoon late in September, they were out walking the estate, inspecting some of the pollarding work in Wyke's Woods when the rain started. From out of nowhere, fat raindrops suddenly fell, splotching down and splatting at Mary's feet. Within seconds, the downpour began in earnest.

At first, they huddled under a tree, but the rain was relentless, swiftly soaking them both.

'We can't stay here,' Tom said, looking anxiously across at Mary, whose teeth were beginning to chatter. 'We can be at the agent's house in five minutes if we run. We can dry off and have a nice hot cup of tea to warm up.'

Mary looked up at the sky, seeing no respite in sight from the dark, rain-laden clouds. 'A hot drink? That sounds like sweet talk if ever I heard it. All right, let's make a dash for it.'

Just over five minutes later, Tom was shoving the key into the lock of the front door, Mary hovering close behind him, both of them bedraggled and drenched through. He opened the door and turned to usher her inside in front of him.

Mary dashed in, standing in the tiled hallway, shaking her head, water droplets flying everywhere. 'Oh, my God! I don't think I've ever been so wet with my clothes on!'

'You need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death,' Tom said, putting the keys on the side table, water funnelling off the brim of his hat. 'There are towels in the linen cupboard. You get them and I'll get you some pyjamas to put on while we dry your clothes.'

'You have pyjamas here?' Mary asked in surprise.

'Yes, just in case, although I've never actually slept here. I keep several changes of clothes here for emergencies.'

Mary went up the stairs, Tom following her, she headed for the closet on the landing, he for the bedroom. Mary pulled out several towels and then crossed to the bedroom, standing in the doorway watching as Tom laid a pair of flannel pyjamas out on the bed.

'Right, I'll, er, leave you to dry off and get changed,' he said awkwardly, withdrawing from the room.

Mary handed him one of the towels as he squeezed past her. 'For you.'

'Thank you. I'll go and put the kettle on, make us a hot drink,' he said, taking it from her.

They stood in the doorway together, staring at each other, water slowly dripping off both of them, until Tom moved.

'Well, I'll leave you to it.'

Mary watched him go then shivered and began peeling her clothes off, towelling herself dry, rubbing the blood back into circulation.

Standing naked in the bedroom of Tom's house, she smiled to herself, remembering when she'd caught him doing the same thing several weeks ago, and she felt a warm feeling stir in her belly, contrasting with the chill on her skin.

She picked up the pyjamas, shaking them out and slipping them on, the flannel warm against her cold skin. As the central heating clanked into operation, she spread her clothes on the radiator to help dry them out then headed downstairs.

Tom looked up as she came in. 'Feeling warmer?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'Good. The kettle's on and I've spooned tea into the pot. Just pour the water on it when it's boiled. I'm just going to run upstairs and get changed into something dry,' he said, edging around the table and heading for the door.

'I do know how to make tea,' Mary muttered to herself as she heard him run up the stairs.

By the time he returned, clad in dry trousers and a shirt and jumper, the tea was ready to pour. Tom picked up the teapot and did the honours, then sat down, fiddling incessantly with his teaspoon.

'Are you nervous about something?' Mary asked as she watched him fiddle and listened to his foot tapping on the tiled floor.

'What? No, of course not,' he said, his denial failing to convince her.

'Only you seem like you are.'

'It's just… a bit strange, that's all, us sitting here like this.'

'Like what?'

'Well, you are wearing my pyjamas for a start. That's never happened before.'

Mary looked down at herself and smiled, cocking a suggestive eyebrow at him. 'How do I look?'

Tom glanced at her then looked away, a flush creeping up his neck. 'You look… you look… you wear them well,' he said eventually, his eyes flicking back to her and then darting away.

Mary sighed, putting her cup down on the table. 'Are we ever going to talk about it?'

'Talk about what?' Tom responded, cautiously.

'This,' she said, waving her hand backwards and forwards between them. 'Whatever is happening here between us.'

He pulled his lip between his teeth, looking at her warily. 'What do you think is happening?'

Mary sighed again. 'Are you really going to take that tack?'

He hesitated before answering her, holding her gaze all the while. 'I need to be sure that we're talking about the same thing, that we're on the same page, Mary. This… if it's what I think we're talking about, it's too big, too important to make a false step.'

She gazed at him consideringly and nodded. 'All right. I agree with that, so I'll speak plainly, shall I?'

Tom nodded, his eyes still darting to and from her as if settling his gaze on her was too much.

Mary took a deep breath, preparing to lay all her cards on the table, butterflies churning in her stomach, nerves mixing with excited anticipation for what might happen.

'I'm attracted to you, Tom. Physically, sexually, whatever you want to call it, I'm attracted to you. And I think you are to me too. I think you feel this pull between us too.'

He swallowed and nodded once more, finally looking at her. 'Yes, I do.'

'Then perhaps we should act on it,' Mary said, her voice dropping lower, dipping into a seductive tone. 'If we both feel it.'

Tom gazed at her, chewing his lip, looking troubled. 'But what if it's just a passing fancy? What if it's just two lonely people latching onto each other for comfort?'

'What if it is?' Mary challenged. 'What's wrong with that?'

'What's wrong with that?' he echoed, incredulously. 'Mary, we're family. We can't afford to indulge ourselves on a whim. If we act on this and we mess it up, it has ramifications beyond just me and you, you know it does.'

'But what if we don't act on it and it drives us both mad?' she countered. 'I'm thinking about it all the time. Aren't you?'

Tom bit his lip, gazing at her, torn between what he wanted to do and what he felt was the right thing to do. 'I just think we can't simply jump into anything without thinking it through first.'

'You're saying that we can't just have sex. That we have to love each other,' Mary said baldly, watching his face carefully as she boiled the problem down to the basics.

'I'm saying I don't think we can just scratch an itch together and forget about it. I don't think I can, anyway. Not with you,' Tom admitted, feeling laid bare.

'But we do, don't we? Love each other, I mean. I know I love you,' Mary said, her voice soft, feeling the truth of that deep in her bones.

'I know you do. But what kind of love is it? Do you love me like a friend, like a brother? I'm worried I'm just a convenient, trustworthy man,' he said, his face still troubled.

Mary stood up and stepped away from the table, keeping her eyes firmly on him. Slowly, she reached for the drawstring on the pyjama bottoms she was wearing and pulled it loose. The flannel material slipped from her hips, the trousers slithering down her legs to the floor.

Tom watched them drop, his eyes following them to the floor then travelling slowly back up her long, bare legs to where the pyjama top skimmed across the middle of her thighs.

'I don't love you like a brother,' she said, her voice low but clear.

Tom raised his eyes to meet hers, unable to hide his feelings. 'Oh, God, Mary.'

'I want to make love with you,' she said in that same seductive tone, reaching for the top button of her shirt.

Tom watched, his heart thumping in his chest as Mary slowly undid each of the six buttons on the pyjama shirt until it hung open, a clear inch apart in the front. She reached up and pushed the garment off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, standing in front of him, completely naked, letting him look at her.

Tom's eyes drifted slowly over her body, taking in the sight of her breasts, her stomach, her stretch marks, her hips, the patch of dark hair between her legs until he eventually looked up at her eyes again, desire written all over his face.

'Do you want to make love to me?' she asked, almost certain of his answer but not quite.

He stood up and circled the table, moving to stand in front of her. He lifted his hand, tracing his thumb slowly along her collarbone.

Mary shivered, waiting for him to answer her.

'Yes,' he said, finally raising his eyes to meet hers. 'So very much.'

'Then take me to bed,' she whispered.

Tom gazed at her then leaned forward and kissed her, softly at first then deepening it.

Mary moaned, looping her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him, kissing him back, pouring all her latent passion into it.

He slipped his arms around her, his hands warm on her back and the curve of her hip.

When the kiss ended, they stood there, nose to nose, sharing breath. Mary steepled her fingers on his cheek and grinned at him.

'Take your clothes off,' she whispered, grasping the front of his jumper and waggling it. 'I want to be naked with you.'

'We're in the kitchen!' he murmured, sounding faintly scandalised.

'Does it matter? This is our house, remember? We can walk around it naked if we want to,' Mary reminded him, stealing another kiss.

'Our house. I like the sound of that,' Tom said, trailing his fingers over her bare hip, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

'Take your clothes off, Tom,' Mary said again, pressing another kiss to his jaw. 'I want to see you.'

'You've already seen me,' he said, smiling as he pulled his jumper over his head. 'You saw it all the other week.'

Mary laughed softly, her fingers working on the buttons of his shirt as he dropped the jumper and started undoing his trousers.

'That was just a glimpse. All that did was whet my appetite,' she said, giving him a cheeky smile. 'You covered up far too quickly for me to get a proper look at you.'

'You took me by surprise.'

'Well, now I want to take my time and look at you properly,' Mary said, pushing his shirt off him. 'I've waited a long time for an up-close view of you without your clothes on.'

'Have you?' he asked with a surprised laugh as he shoved his trousers down.

'Yes, a very long time,' Mary said, her mind flashing back to the first time she'd seen him naked all those years ago in the pond at Tanner's Water.

She glanced down, reaching between them to pull at the drawstring on his underwear, her heart bumping in her chest as she saw the evidence of his attraction to her tenting the material.

Tom put his hand over hers, stopping her, and she looked up at him.

'If we do this, there's no going back,' he said, his face serious.

'I don't want to go back. I want to go forward. With you,' Mary whispered, her eyes locked on his. 'I want to follow where this takes us. Because I want this, Tom. I want you. I wouldn't be standing here naked in front of you if I didn't.'

He gazed at her then let go of her hand, closing the gap between them, claiming her lips once more in a fierce kiss.

Mary pulled the drawstring open and tugged his underwear down over his hips, over his hardness, letting the material fall. Then she slid her hands around to his behind, finally caressing the buttocks she'd first laid eyes on eleven years ago.

Tom groaned as his erection pressed against her, dropping his head to the crook of her neck. 'Oh, God, I want you so much, Mary. You don't know how much.'

Mary took a couple of steps back, taking his hands in hers, and greedily looked him up and down, finally able to openly gaze at his naked body.

'Then take me to bed and show me just how much you want me,' she said, walking backwards towards the door, tugging him gently along with her, a smile spreading across her face.

He followed her, an answering smile on his face. 'You just want to see me walk naked through the house again.'

'I do. But the difference is I'm naked too this time.'

'Yes,' he said, his eyes sweeping over her. 'I noticed. And a lovely sight it is too.'

Mary reached the bottom of the stairs, stepping up onto the first one, and Tom slipped his arms around her waist, pressing up close to her. She dipped her head to kiss him, then shrieked as he slid his hands under her bottom and picked her up.

'Put me down! You'll drop me!' she giggled, clutching onto his shoulders, her ankles wrapping around his calves.

'No, I won't. Not if you stop wriggling,' Tom said, holding her tightly, dropping kisses on her collarbone.

Mary wrapped her legs around his hips, still laughing, and Tom groaned as he felt her wetness slide against his shaft.

'Oh, Jesus,' he muttered. 'I'm not sure we're going to make it to the bedroom at this rate.'

Mary grinned at him, waggling her eyebrows. 'Well, who says we have to? This is our house and there's no-one else here. We can do it wherever we want.'

'You want our first time to be on the stairs?' he asked in surprise.

'I don't really care where our first time is as long as it happens soon,' Mary replied, dragging the nails of one hand lightly down his back, making him shiver.

They made it halfway up the stairs, kissing all the way before passion overtook them. Mary grabbed hold of the bannister, forcing Tom to stop and lower her to the stairs. She pulled him down on top of her, her thighs either side of his hips.

'Make love to me,' she whispered, sliding her hands over the globes of his buttocks.

Tom nodded, reaching down between them to guide himself to her entrance, then pushed inside her, his eyes never leaving hers.

Mary groaned, arching her spine in pleasure, as the man she'd seen naked for the first time in a pond eleven years ago finally became her lover.