CHAPTER 12 – ENTER MR BRANSON. EDITH ATTEMPTS REVENGE
Dining room, Downton Abbey, May 1913
"We finally found a chauffeur to replace Taylor," announced Papa at dinner. "His name is Branson and he seems decent enough fellow, even if a bit too outspoken. He was really enthusiastic about the library."
Mary froze. She had completely forgotten than Tom was hired around that time.
"A chauffeur who likes to read," said Granny caustically. "What next, a housemaid who is a suffragist?"
"And what of it if she was?" asked Sybil immediately. "Or that he likes to read? Aren't servants entitled to have interests and opinions?"
Mary rubbed her temples. Tom and Sybil hadn't even meet yet and she was already his champion. It was a wonder they had not caught on earlier what was happening.
"Mary, are you alright?" Matthew enquired quietly. He was back from London for the weekend and to Mary's delight immediately accepted their dinner invitation. She smiled looking up at his concerned eyes.
"Just a bit of headache. I think I will retire straight after dinner."
She regretted cutting her time with him short after not seeing him for weeks, but she desperately needed solitude to think.
"Should we call for Doctor Clarkson?" Matthew was a bit alarmed at her wish to retire early. She had never done it before as long as he knew her. He looked at her closely and noticed that she seemed a little pale.
"No, no," Mary waved her hand dismissively. "I am alright, I just need to sleep it off. I will ask Anna for a powder if it doesn't get better soon. I am sorry to cut our evening short though. Maybe we could meet tomorrow to make up for it?"
"Gladly," answered Matthew immediately. "But only if you are well by then. I would not wish you to make yourself worse by pushing yourself too early."
Mary smiled at him.
"Really, Matthew, it is just a headache," she said chidingly. "But I promise to rest until it's gone. I have not the slightest wish to fall ill myself, I have too many plans for the coming weeks."
She was happy to see that her slight teasing seemed to calm Matthew's concern.
"I hope that some of those plans do involve me," he said with an alluring smile. Her body tingled in response. If they weren't at a dinner table with her whole family present, she was rather afraid she would have kissed him, consequences be damned.
She did miss him terribly while he was in London.
"A great many of them do," she promised him, sending him smouldering look in response and was very satisfied to see him gulping. It was nice to see what effect she could have on him.
Lady Mary's Bedroom, Downton Abbey, May 1913
After evading concerned questions of her hovering relatives Mary closed the door of her bedroom with relief. She did not immediately call for Anna, choosing instead to pace and try to collect her thoughts.
Tom was here. Tom, her brother-in-law. Tom, her best friend. Tom, her partner in trying to keep Downton afloat in spite of Papa's stubbornness. Tom, the only person on Earth who understood exactly what she had lost on that beautiful September day when her son had been born.
Except, of course, he was none of those things. He was just a newly hired chauffeur, a perfect stranger. She was not even supposed to have a proper conversation with him for years. In some ways, it was even worse than meeting Matthew again. At least she could talk with Matthew and try to befriend him.
How does one go about befriending chauffeurs? How on Earth Sybil had done that?
She knew what she wanted – Tom Branson in a more respectable position and as her best friend. Ideally as the land agent, but she knew it would be extremely difficult to pull off. Getting him a job as a journalist would probably be easier – at least he was interested in that – but the only person she knew with influence in the newspapers business was Richard and her skin crawled at the thought of asking him for any kind of favour. And anyway, she had to wait with anything like that – she needed to give Sybil and Tom time to fall in love first and they definitely were not a fast-moving couple. Rivalled her and Matthew, really, just with less misunderstandings and engagements to other people. And Sybil was only seventeen.
She was suddenly struck by the question whether she should give them the time to fall in love with each other.
One of the very first and still most important goals she had set for herself when she had realised she had travelled in time was to save the lives of Matthew and Sybil. Preventing Matthew's death in a car accident on the day their child was born should be easy – she thought of everything which caused this chain of events and all the little things which could have prevented it for months. But how can one prevent a death in childbirth? Of course, knowing in advance about the threat of eclampsia gave them a fighting chance, but caesareans were still so very dangerous... Truly, the only way to prevent a death in childbirth was to avoid pregnancy.
Was keeping Sybil and Tom apart the best way of saving her little sister?
Did she want to prevent Tom and Sybil getting together? For all the scandal of her misalliance, relative poverty they had lived in and the trauma of his involvement with Irish rebels, Tom made Sybil happy. They all had wondered if the stress of the latter had not played a part in Sybil developing the condition which took her life, but Doctor Clarkson had assured them that plenty of women who had the most peaceful of pregnancies developed eclampsia as well. Sybil's death had been a horrible happenstance, one Mary was fully determined to prevent. But wasn't the best way to do that to prevent Sybil forming any attachment to Tom in the first place?
She never considered it before. She was only planning to ensure Sybil's condition was properly diagnosed and acted upon. She liked Tom. In the end he was a devoted husband and father, a good friend to Matthew and such a support to her. How could she even consider erasing him from her sister's life, even if it made it easier for Sybil?
But would it? It was Sybil, after all. If it hadn't been Tom, she would still have found a way to escape the role she was brought up for. Her reasons ran much deeper than a crush on a servant. She had wanted independence, freedom from convention, purpose, a cause to believe in and Mary was fully convinced that Tom or no Tom she would have found it somehow. Quite possibly in an even more risky and reckless way.
And she liked Tom. He grew on her. She didn't have so many true friends that she was ready to give him up. She wanted him back in her life, desperately and as soon as possible.
Which circled back to the problem how was one to go about befriending a chauffeur?
She sighed with irritation. So many problems and drama came from the fact that Tom had been just a chauffeur. He had definitely showed both as a journalist and as the land agent that he was capable of so much more. Was there any way she could help him realise his potential sooner? Mary had no idea how to help Tom to get a more respectable career. She had some vague idea of recommending him to some position, but on what grounds? She didn't even meet him yet in that reality and he had only the experience as a chauffeur to some old lady.
Mary shrugged and rang the bell for Anna. She could not act now on her idea so there was no need to wrangle with the details yet. The answer would come in time, for now it was enough to make a general decision how to proceed.
And yet her mind kept whirling during the preparations for bed. Thankfully Anna, mindful of Mary's professed headache, kept the conversation to the minimum and got her into her dressing gown and with loosely bound braid in record time. Mary gratefully sunk against the pillows and furrowed her brows.
In the end she concluded reluctantly that she would not be able to come up with a plan of action that night. But then again, did she have to? It was hardly an urgent matter. The worst immediate problem would be being forced to treat Tom as a stranger and a servant, but she had plenty of practice with such things by now. She would manage that and figure out the rest as she was going.
Calming down, she fell asleep to thoughts of seeing Matthew tomorrow.
Downton grounds, May 1913
Edith's eyes lit up at her unexpected luck when she noticed Matthew strolling purposefully across the lawn. He was earlier than usual; she suspected with a scowling expression that he was worried about Mary and wanted to enquire about her health. Never mind, here was finally a perfect opportunity. He was leaving for London on the evening train and even if he came back on a weekend, they would probably hardly have a moment alone, with Mary sure to monopolise his attention.
"Cousin Matthew! Good morning," she greeted him cheerfully. He stopped and smiled at her, returning her greeting politely. God, he really was too good for her sister.
"How are you, Edith?"
"Perfectly well, thank you. It is such a lovely morning I could not have stayed indoors."
"And the family? Are they all well?" he asked, a concern evident on his face.
"Yes, they are. Mary was not down to breakfast yet, but Anna mentioned she is completely recovered from last night."
Matthew immediately relaxed and smiled at her widely.
"That's very good to hear, I admit I was a bit worried when she retired early in this manner."
"Cousin Matthew..." Edith started hesitantly. "Would you mind if we took a stroll together before you go to the house? There is something I would like to talk to you about and I would prefer we were not interrupted or overheard."
He looked at her with evident surprise but turned towards a path leading away from the house and politely offered her his arm.
Edith took a deep breath.
"It's about Mary."
Matthew startled, obviously not expecting that.
"What about her? You said she is well?"
"Oh, she is," Edith could not stop herself from rolling her eyes. "She always is. This is actually what I wanted to talk about with you – how Mary truly is."
Matthew frowned.
"What do you mean by it?"
"Matthew," she said seriously, "I know you care about my sister a lot. I suspect you're quite in love with her actually. No, don't interrupt me, listen. It is important."
Matthew nodded.
"You see... You must have noticed that Mary and I do not really get along."
"I would say it's an understatement."
"Well, yes," they smiled at each other briefly. "But have you ever wondered why?"
Matthew frowned again.
"Many times. I guessed you just have conflicting personalities. You are both perfectly pleasant to other people, just not to each other."
"It is part of the matter, yes," admitted Edith. "We have always been quarrelling, even as small children. But the reason I truly cannot stand her is much more recent and I think you should know it before you make any decisions about your possible future with Mary."
Matthew did not deny that he was considering such a decision and just looked at her questioningly.
"You see..." she started again, searching for right words to convince him. "We never liked each other, but until I saw her with Patrick it was never more than that."
"Patrick?" asked Matthew with astonishment. "Why?"
"She never loved him," said Edith bluntly. "She never even cared much for him. The best she could feel for him was indifference and some minor cousinly affection and that was on a good day. She was only going to marry him because of the entail, and she was hardly enthusiastic about that. And yet when he died, she was suddenly fainting and insisting on deep mourning and staring morosely into space and milking everybody's sympathy and compassion as if she had any right. It made me realise what a cold, conniving person she really is, and I felt you should be warned about it before it's too late. She is such a good actress she has everybody fooled, even people who have seen her with Patrick and should have known better."
She looked at Matthew's shocked expression and sighed.
"You don't believe me, of course."
"I don't think you're lying," said Matthew carefully. "But I do think your dislike of her might be colouring your judgment here."
"And your love isn't?" asked Edith bitterly, "But never mind, I haven't expected to be believed just like that. I can give you a way to verify my story."
"How? You said that the rest of the family carry no doubts about Mary's feelings for Patrick and it would match what they all told me so far on various occasions."
"Oh, they are not reliable at all. I have no idea how they can be so blind, but they are. No, I meant you should ask Mary."
"Mary?!" cried out Matthew, clearly astonished. "Weren't you just telling me that you consider her an actress and an accomplished liar?"
"She is all that, but she is not perfect at it," said Edith coldly. "Ask her to tell you what she loved about Patrick. Ask her how he was. For all her deep mourning she hardly ever mentions him directly or speaks about specifics. She cannot or it would be obvious what her true feelings had been. Just ask her and see if she can find one beloved feature of him she can bring up."
They stopped. Matthew continued to look at her seriously. Edith did not falter, looking straight back at him.
"Why has her relationship with Patrick, whatever it was, made you hate her so much?" he asked and she saw that he guessed the answer himself, so she shrugged and told him the truth.
"Because I loved him. I loved him a lot. I knew it was hopeless, I knew he was going to marry her, but I was always looking at him, I was always looking at them together and it broke my heart what I saw."
Matthew squeezed her hand.
"I am so sorry, Edith. I cannot even imagine how hard it must have been for you to endure."
He really was way too good for Mary.
"Thank you," she said and turned back towards the house. "I think we should go back. I realise you probably don't believe me and think I said it all just because I am jealous and hateful, but it's really not the reason. I like you and I think you deserve better than her. I couldn't watch you fall for her and say nothing. It's up to you now what you're going to do with it. But if I were you, I would ask her about Patrick. You might well learn something. Not necessarily something pleasant, but something important nonetheless."
Matthew didn't answer and they walked in silence until they separated in front of the house. Edith noticed with grim satisfaction that Matthew did not go in and instead walked back to the village.
She really hoped she had given him some food for thoughts.
Train from York to London, May 1913
Matthew did not return to the big house that Sunday.
He boarded the train and sighed in relief at being finally alone with his whirling thoughts.
On one hand, he was ashamed of himself for giving any credit to Edith's words. He knew Mary. He knew her to be forthright and honest, with emotions which ran deep, even if she was not often speaking about them. He saw her pain, on so many different occasions. Edith was speaking about always observing Patrick, but he was always observing Mary. Which one of them was wrong? Was Edith blinded by her dislike and jealousy or was he blinded by his love and attraction? One of them obviously saw something which wasn't there, but which one? He did not believe that Edith was lying to stir trouble; she was clearly completely honest – but she could, she must have been wrong, mistaken.
Mary could not be capable of the actions Edith was accusing her of, could she?
Edith's clear implication was of course that Mary not only had not love Patrick, but that she didn't love him either. That she was willing to marry without love as long as she got to be the Countess and the mistress of Downton. Matthew could not be sure if she loved him. He hoped... He hoped dearly, more with every friendly word, with every flirtatious gaze, with every fond smile. He was sure they did share a connection of some kind, he could not have imagined all that. But was it love? There was no question it was on his part, but did she love him back? Did she love him back equally? He did not know that, could not be sure yet, and this doubt was staying his hand in asking her for hers, hoping that giving her more time might increase his chances of hearing 'yes'.
But one thing he did not doubt was that Mary had loved and lost. It was not the mourning clothes she was wearing when they first met, it was not the fact that she spoke about it often – because here Edith was right, Mary barely spoke about Patrick – but she did wear the cloud of grief with her, one which only very recently started to lift. There were still moments when she seemed to be lost in her memories, seeing people and places which were not there. She still turned to him to say something and visibly startled, as if expecting someone else next to her. It hurt him too much for him to be mistaken that it happened. He hated that instant of disappointment in her eyes when she looked at him and regretted that he was not the man she wanted to be there. He knew from the first day of their acquaintance that she was a woman who had known and lost love; he could hardly hold it against her that he was not the first to touch her heart as she had touched his – and yet he so wished it were so. He was well aware that it was less jealousy than fear that he could never compete with a dead man; that whatever feelings he ever managed to inspire in her would not measure up to the ones she had felt in the past and obviously still felt now.
To hear that all his torment was over nothing, that it was all just a lie, an act – he couldn't wrap his head around it. It was impossible. Edith must be wrong or malicious. And yet her words lingered in his subconsciousness. Ask her about Patrick. Ask her what she did love about him.
Matthew groaned and dropped his head into his hands.
Dining room, Downton Abbey, May 1913
Mary was picking on her roasted potatoes disinterestedly. She was very disappointed that Matthew did not visit them before going to London. She regretted bitterly that her shock over Tom's arrival cut her last evening with him short.
It was hearing his name that brought her attention back to the general conversation.
"It's a pity Cousin Matthew did not come to the house after his walk with you," Sybil was talking to Edith of all people, "I wanted to talk with him before his trip."
"He was rather in the hurry to leave after we finished our conversation," said Edith, with a significant look at Mary. "I rather suspect he will be busy in the near future."
Mary stiffened. Edith was gloating. For God's sake, whatever had she told Matthew?! Obviously something vicious enough to send him running away from Downton, but what exactly? How big was the damage?
Edith noticed Mary's distress and her satisfied smile grew even bigger in response. Mary clenched her teeth and looked away.
She did manage to catch her by the window in the drawing room after they went through, with Mama and Sybil busy discussing Sybil's new dress.
"What on earth have you talked about with Cousin Matthew?" hissed Mary, deciding there was absolutely no point in beating around the bush.
"I fail to see what business it is of yours," answered Edith smugly. Mary yearned to shake her.
"Normally I would take it for granted that a walk with you is enough to send a young man scrambling to leave town, but you are much too pleased with yourself for that explanation. Come out with it, I know you want to gloat," goaded Mary, but to her unpleasant surprise Edith held fast.
"I find I enjoy watching you squirm more," she said, walking away from Mary to pick a drink from Thomas. "Serves you right to stew and wonder."
Mary grabbed Edith's arm, stopping her.
"What have you done it for, whatever it was?" she asked. "I haven't done anything special to you for as long as I can remember."
That got Edith's attention right back to Mary.
"You don't deserve to be the Countess after the way you dishonoured Patrick's memory with your lies!" she hissed viciously. "And Cousin Matthew definitely deserves better than a lying, heartless bitch like you!"
Mary dropped Edith's arm and took instinctive step back.
"So you took it on yourself to revenge Patrick and save Cousin Matthew?" she asked incredulously. Edith gave her another smug smile.
"It was the least I could do. I don't know what Cousin Matthew will do with that information, but hopefully I gave him some food for thoughts."
"What information?" asked Mary again through gritted teeth.
"Wouldn't you want to know?" taunted Edith and this time successfully walked away from Mary to get her celebratory drink. Mary seethed and grabbed her own glass of sherry, wishing it was something stronger.
What on earth could Edith have told Matthew? It was obviously something bad, judging from her dark satisfaction and Matthew's hasty escape, but what?! It couldn't have been anything related to Pamuk, Matthew's involvement meant he was more knowledgeable about the incident than Edith ever was. The problem was there wasn't really so much Edith could tell. For all her flirting and petty bullying there just wasn't so much for Edith to share which Matthew already didn't know, witness himself or suspect. So that left outright lies or malicious interpretations of Mary's actions or feelings and she didn't think Edith would go so far as to make up some damaging story in lieu of acquiring knowledge of a real one.
She thought back to the way she had prevented Sir Anthony's proposal to Edith and shivered. Edith's actions screamed a similar idea at play. She must have implied somehow to Matthew that Mary did not care for him at all or something along those lines. And Matthew was so insecure about her affections, he could have believed her. They did build a solid relationship this time; they talked so much more and were so cordial with each other, but she did suspect that there was enough room for doubt in his mind for Edith to explore. And the worst thing was it was probably so insidious she would have a bloody hard task to untangle it if Matthew gave her an opportunity at all. If he wasn't too busy trying to forget her by proposing to Lavinia in the next few weeks before she could speak with him in London.
The last thought made her gloomy enough to plead the return of the previous night's headache and retire early. She did her utmost to ignore Edith's satisfied stare.
Swire House, Regent's Park, London, May 1913
Matthew and Jack arrived at Reggie's terrace house in Regent's Park in reasonably good humours, even though Jack could tell that his friend was preoccupied with something.
Reggie greeted them both in his usual cordial manner.
"Welcome, my boys! Come, come, I have someone here who I really would like to introduce to you, Matthew. She has been very curious about a new colleague of mine."
He led them to the elegant, modern drawing room, where Matthew saw a young, redheaded girl in a becoming green dress looking at him shyly.
"Matthew, allow me to introduce my daughter, Lavinia. Lavinia, this is the Matthew Crawley Jack was talking so much about that I had no choice but to offer him a job with us."
Jack grinned unrepentantly, bumping Matthew's shoulder.
"Obviously, I just needed a contrast for my dark good looks. I'm just lucky enough that Matthew happens to be a brilliant lawyer as well as decorative."
"Thank you, I think," answered Matthew doubtfully and turned to Lavinia, asking her whether she could recommend something to do in London, seeing as she had local knowledge of the city.
Lavinia blushed deeply at a direct question from him, but answered earnestly.
"The Spring Exhibition of the International Society of Sculptures is going to be open for another week. Father took me and it was really interesting. I especially liked the sculptures based on Greek mythology."
"Were there many?" asked Matthew distractedly. The mention of Greek mythology instantly brought Mary to his mind.
"Several. There was Leda, and Circe, they made the biggest impression on me. Do you like Grek myths?"
"Quite," answered Matthew with a smile, telling himself sternly to focus on the conversation. He could tell that Lavinia Swire was very young and shy and he didn't want to hurt her feelings by appearing inattentive or dismissive. He thought she must be Sybil's age, but she seemed somehow more childlike and delicate than his irrepressible youngest cousin. "I think the tale of Perseus and Andromeda is my favourite. It is also a favourite of my cousin Mary, so we discussed it thoroughly several times."
"What do you like the most about it?" asked Lavinia with interest.
"It is a very romantic tale, full of heroic deeds, love and villains, but the thing Mary and I agree on as its best feature is its happy ending. Perseus and Andromeda survive all kinds of perils, marry and have eight children. A happy fate not shared by many of their counterparts in other myths."
"So both you and your cousin like happy endings?"
"We do," answered Matthew with a smile at another recollection. "Mary had quite a lot to say at the ending of the myth about Orpheus and Eurydice. Said that the fact that Orpheus still lost Eurydice again, after all efforts he undertook to get her back from afterlife, was the most unfair thing she has ever read. She was adamant it was only natural that he turned back to make sure she was following him and to get a glimpse of her features after such a terrible grief as he must have endured."
Then his smile faded at the realisation why this particular myth must have resonated with Mary so deeply.
"It does seem rather unfair, that's true," agreed Lavinia, looking at him with interest. "You seem to be close to your cousin. What is she like?"
"Truly brilliant," answered Matthew immediately. "Amazingly graceful, elegant, and beautiful – this is what you notice at once when you first see her. But then you start to talk and you realise she is also clever, witty and fascinating. I've only met her eight months ago, but I cannot imagine not having her in my life anymore."
Matthew was so struck by his own words that he barely heard Lavinia asking how it was that he only met his cousin so very recently. He really could not imagine not having Mary in his life. Never mind what Edith said, she was hardly an objective or trustworthy source where her sister was concerned. Matthew might have only known her for eight months, but he knew her. He loved her, because he knew her. Because he knew that she was a wonderful person.
He had to talk to Mary.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please don't kill me - they needed a prompt to finally act on their feelings. In the next chapter, Mary loses her patience and takes matters into her own hands - and Matthew is ready to listen.