Great Hall, Downton Abbey, March 6th, 1922
"Mother! How lovely to see you!" exclaimed Matthew, coming over to kiss her cheek.
Isobel still found it slightly surreal to be welcome at Downton Abbey by her son as the host and owner of the place.
And yet, his fond kisses and bright smile at the sight of her were the same, whether he greeted her as a student, a young lawyer or as the 8th Earl of Grantham. Matthew was never ashamed to openly show his affection for his mother.
"Have you come to see George or do you have some other mission at works?" asked Matthew amiably, guiding her through the grand hall after Carson took her coat and hat.
"I confess I don't have any other excuse for showing up uninvited other than missing my grandson," answered Isobel, touched once again by brilliant smile appearing on her son's face whenever his little boy was mentioned.
"Perfectly understandable. I miss him myself whenever I don't see him for an hour or two. And you don't need an excuse, you know. You're always welcome here, Mother."
"As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I do not want to overstay my welcome," said Isobel firmly. "You might be used to living with me, but I do realise that a mother-in-law hanging about every day can get on one's nerves and I do not wish to get on Mary's."
"You do remember I am living with mine?" pointed Matthew, although without bite. She knew that he didn't really mind Cora, especially not now.
"And between you and Mary, which one of you is more likely to take offense, hmm?"
Matthew laughed, not at all offended at the small dig at his wife's character.
"Mary, of course," he admitted easily. "But she does like you, Mother, truly, and does not consider your visits as interfering."
"Be it as it may, I don't want to overstep. Where is Mary, actually?"
"She went with Tom to look over the farms of tenants who are in arrears. We have some hard decisions to make, so we want to assess all the facts. I am stuck with figuring out how we are going to afford the death duties for Robert without crippling the estate for years."
One of the biggest shocks of Isobel's life – and she had lived through two wars – was seeing her haughty daughter-in-law actually working. Not for a salary or a boss, of course, but nobody could deny that Mary was actively engaged in managing Downton now, up to and including slogging through muddy fields and discussing livestock with farmers. Considering that Lady Mary Crawley had managed to last through the whole war without doing anything remotely useful, Isobel thought she had a right to be shocked by her productivity now.
She reminded herself sternly that she was not being fair to Mary. True, she had not been involved in the war effort or running the convalescent home. She had not volunteer as a nurse like Sybil or taken care of the soldiers' needs like Edith, but there had been one thing she had done and it was something Isobel would never cease to be grateful for.
Mary had taken care of Matthew when he desperately needed it. It was still Isobel's firm opinion that it had been Mary who had brought back Matthew's will to live after his terrible injury. He had been miserable, bitter and cynical, but he had been willing to go on, something she had not been sure about at all in those awful first weeks, when Matthew's dark moods had truly terrified her and had made her imagine the worst. Mary had been there for him, day after day, undaunted and consistent, and had managed to coax him out of the deepest despair somehow.
Isobel vowed to never forget it, however much her daughter-in-law tried her patience sometimes. Whatever Mary was, she did love Isobel's son with the deepest and truest affection and made him incredibly happy. Mary and Isobel might never be bosom friends – Isobel rather suspected they were much too different for it to happen – but she would always remain grateful for the love Mary had for Matthew.
They reached the nursery, finding George in his highchair, being fed apple mash by Nanny Lewis. Tom was sitting on the floor, playing with blocks with Sybbie. He tried to get up in greeting when he saw Isobel, but she waved him to stay down where he was, unwilling to interrupt the sweet scene. Tom was such a devoted father, quite like Matthew. They both obviously adored their children.
"Look who came to visit you, Master George!" pointed Nanny Lewis sunnily. George gurgled happily, waving his little hands towards his Papa and Grandma.
Technically, Nanny Lewis should address George as my lord, given that he was carrying lofty title of Viscount Downton. Matthew found it such an absurd in case of a baby that he asked the servants to refrain from doing so until George was a bit older. Nanny Lewis obeyed. Carson, most definitely, did not.
Nanny Lewis was young, blond, cheerful and obviously very fond of children. She had also come thoroughly vetted after working for Reginald's friend, a fellow paediatrician at Royal Infirmary in Manchester. Nobody wanted to take any chances after Nanny West. Isobel's blood still boiled whenever she thought of that ghastly woman and the fact that she was the person entrusted with case of Matthew's precious baby. She made it her personal mission to find a proper candidate for the replacement herself and so far, she was very pleased with the results.
"I haven't realised you and Mary were already back," noted Matthew, making a funny face at George to make him giggle and taking the plate and spoon from Nanny Lewis to finish feeding him himself. Nanny Lewis shook her head fondly at that and declared that she will take the children's washing to the laundry room.
"Only I am," answered Tom, toppling the block tower he built to Sybbie's loud delight at the destruction. "Mary was summoned to the Dower House for tea."
"More like for a war council," commented Isobel dryly. "Cousin Violet was most definitely plotting something when I visited her this morning."
Matthew laughed at that, but Isobel noticed that he threw a concerned look at Tom, when he didn't join in the merriment. In fact, even while playing diligently with his daughter, he seemed uncharacteristically morose and distracted.
Drawing room, Dower House, Downton Village, March 6th, 1922
"Do pour the tea, Mary," ordered Violet, holding court with her daughter-in-law and granddaughter in attendance. Mary obediently reached for the teapot. "I do not wish Spratt to overhear us. That man is an awful gossip."
"What is it that you want to discuss in such secrecy?" asked Cora, half curious, half dreading the answer.
"Edith's unfortunate attachment, of course," scoffed Violet, accepting a cup from Mary. "It cannot be allowed to continue."
Mary sighed. She had no interest in managing her sister's love life. If she was determined to ruin herself, Mary was perfectly happy to let her.
Violet sharp eyes noted her reluctance immediately.
"The scandal would affect all of us," she reminded her granddaughter curtly. "You are married and Rose is hopefully far enough removed from Edith that it shouldn't do too much direct damage, but I have no wish to deal with the potential fallout and I'm sure neither do you."
Mary sighed again, but nodded.
"What can we do though?" asked Cora, frowning in confusion. "You said yourself that we have no financial leverage and you already threatened her with us casting her off, even though it's obviously an empty threat. She is perfectly aware none of us approves. So what's left?"
"Why, distracting her, of course," answered Violet and sipped some of her tea. She noted with appreciation that Mary prepared it perfectly, as always. "She is infatuated with that man, but then she has always been willing to fall for anyone who showed her the slightest bit of attention. We need to introduce her to some more suitable candidates, and I am confident she would change her mind when confronted with more immediate and less complicated prospect of marriage. To be honest, we should have done it ages ago."
"Well, there was a small matter of the war," muttered Cora grudgingly, resentful of implication that she neglected to ensure her daughter's marital prospects. "And then there was Sir Anthony."
"Do not mention that man's name in my presence," spat Violet with intense dislike. "The only decent thing he did is giving her up in the end, but he had to of course do it in a most humiliating way possible."
The three Ladies Grantham shared a look of perfect understanding.
"Going back to actual topic," said Violet imperiously. "Who do know which could suit?"
"It would be easier if half of men in my generation were not dead, crippled or completely hopeless," pointed out Mary acerbically. "The pool of potential suitors is rather shallow and it's Edith. She's hardly a catch and the competition for any able-bodied man, not to mention one of any standing whatsoever, is rather fierce."
"Are you done?" asked Violet. "I didn't invite you hear for commenting on your sister's attractiveness or lack of it."
"Then why did you?" asked Mary, raising her chin in a challenge. "I did not appreciate those kinds of schemes when I was their target and I sure am not interested in doing them for Edith."
"I invited you here because any invitation sent for the event we are planning will have to come from you, seeing that you're the current Countess of Grantham."
"We're planning an event?" asked Cora, finally managing to get a word in.
"Yes, that is the question I would like an answer to as well, seeing as this is my house, as you pointed out."
Violet raised her eyes heavenward, as if they were both sorely testing her patience.
"Yes, we are. A house party to celebrate Cora's birthday."
"A house party?" asked Mary in shock. "Without asking me first?"
"But I am still in mourning!" protested Cora immediately.
Violet sent them both a quelling look.
"You are past six months mark, you can join the land of the living for a bit. And it will be Mary and Matthew who will be hosting it, so it won't be too inappropriate."
"And who are we supposed to invite to that party?" asked Mary irritably. She had to admit though that for all her annoyance at being ordered around like a child, she was intrigued by hosting her first event as the Countess of Grantham. She barely had any chance to participate in any social occasion since gaining the title, or to prove she could wield it with distinction in any other way than everyday management of the household.
"Cora may choose some of her preferred friends, since it's her birthday we will be using as an excuse," allowed Violet magnanimously. "You and Matthew as well, of course. But I want you to think – who do we know who could be suitable for Edith?"
Cora bit her lip thoughtfully.
"We haven't seen the Gillinghams for decades," she said slowly. "Lord Gillingham and Robert quarrelled awfully about something or other and we cut contact. But Lord Gillingham has died recently and with Robert dead as well, there is no reason I cannot reach out to Lady Gillingham. We were quiet friendly once upon a time and we have kept correspondence with each other. She wrote to me just last month that Tony is unmarried and unattached at present."
She was proud of herself for not bursting into tears at the mention of Robert's death. Maybe she was getting better.
"He's a Viscount Gillingham now then?" asked Violet with interest.
"Yes," Cora nodded. "And their estate fares fairly well from what Lady Gillingham wrote."
"I remember he treated as all as awful pests," added Mary musingly. "But then again, he was a seventeen year old boy forced to deal with three little girls."
"Hopefully you all grew up a bit since then," commented Violet dryly, handing Mary her cup for more tea. "By all means, do invite him and his mother. If she is indeed Cora's friend, she should accept and hopefully her son as well. I remember he was handsome enough, so hopefully Edith will spare him a glance."
Mary bit her tongue before she could ask what were the chances of Tony Gillingham sparing a glance for Edith.
"Anybody else?" asked Cora, evidently getting fully engaged in the campaign. Mary thought viciously that nothing like matchmaking for getting her mother out of her internal seclusion. She thanked God fervently that she was out of it at last.
"We could invite Sir John Bullock," proposed Violet thoughtfully. "Baroness Eaglestone's grandson."
"Isn't he a bit young for Edith?" asked Cora doubtfully, trying to remember how old Sir John was. "I seem to remember he was still at school when she came out."
"He is two years younger than her," answered Violet, precisely informed as usual. "But even if there is no spark between him and Edith, maybe he can at least provide some more suitable company for Rose."
"Rose?" asked Cora with surprise. "She is not out yet!"
"Nobody talks about marrying her off before her debut," said Violet, eyeing Mary sharply. "But maybe it wouldn't do her harm to dance with someone of her station for a change."
Mary busied herself with the teapot, wondering who ratted them out.
"Oh well, I will send the invitation then," acquiesced Cora, earning herself a sharp look from her mother-in-law.
"You will do no such thing," she decreed imperiously. "It's Mary's house, Mary's party and Mary's invitations to send. You would do well to remember that."
Mary opened her mouth to say that she did not mind – Mama really was pretty good about ceding running the household to her in most particulars – but Cora protested before she could.
"I do remember it!" she exclaimed. "Wanting to help with the invitations does not mean I disregard the fact that she is the Countess of Grantham now."
"Like you did when you hired your new maid without consulting her?" countered Violet mercilessly.
"I am paying Braithwaite's wages out of my dower portion, so she is my employee, not Downton's," answered Cora furiously.
"It's hard to be sure when you insists on living there still as if it remained your house."
Mary saw the stricken look on Cora's face and decided to intervene.
"Mama can stay as long as she wishes, Granny," she said firmly. "It is a big house and she is not in the way in the slightest. In fact, I prefer that she still lives with us. Can you imagine that she moves out and leaves me alone with Edith?"
Library, Downton Abbey, March 6th, 1922
"So we are throwing our first house party," said Matthew with playful resignation, pouring himself a glass of brandy.
Mary shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink.
"Apparently. It's going to be strange; we didn't have one since before the war started."
She settled more comfortably against the pillows of the red sofa, watching the firelight glittering on Matthew's blond head. They were alone, the others already retired, and they released the servants for the night. George was asleep and the chances were growing that he would remain so until early morning at least. Mary felt herself relaxing and enjoying the peace and the intimate atmosphere.
"I was thinking that we should ensure some big attraction to mark the occasion," she said thoughtfully. "A house party can be so flat if there's no special moment."
"You would know better than me, I hardly attended any," said Matthew easily, sitting down by her. "I assume it wouldn't be special enough to watch the sun set by the lake?"
Mary shook her head and took another sip of her drink.
"It's also Mama's birthday. I both would like to do something spectacular for my first event as the hostess and as a gift for her, to lift her spirits a bit. She is bound to miss Papa awfully; he always took care to make her birthday special."
"What do you have in mind then?"
"I heard that this Australian singer, Nellie Melba, is in London right now. Maybe we could hire her to perform a concert for us? Mama does love opera."
Matthew let his head drop against the sofa cushions in exasperation.
"It's bound to be expensive, isn't it?"
"Yes," answered Mary honestly. "But we are expected to keep certain standards when entertaining and, considering Papa's death, we won't be doing anything extravagant during the Season this year. A house party, even with a concert, is pretty minor in comparison to Rose's coming out ball next year. I think we can afford it."
"I guess you're right," Matthew smiled at her and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I do trust you not to bankrupt us. You've spent even more time pouring over the books than I did."
"I'm not going to squander George's inheritance. You might be happy to live in a cottage, but he will be brought up with standards," she teased, but without bite. "Anyway, let's not talk about finances tonight. Is there anybody you would like to invite?"
Mary allowed herself to relax against her husband's shoulder, pushing the thought of looming death duties and defaulting tenants out of her mind for the evening. Here she was, cuddling with Matthew in their home, alone for once. They were Earl and Countess of Grantham and they were planning their first big social event. For a while, she allowed herself to simply enjoy the moment.
The troubles would come soon enough.