Consequences and Control
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.
This story is probably going to be a bit longer than my previous DA multi – chapter stories, as it focuses on two couples and covers at least two years. So, I'm going to try to post twice a month instead of once a month.
Speaking of those two different couples, I've written Mary perspective stories before, but ironically, this is the first time I'm writing a Mary/Mathew focused story. I do hope I can do them justice!
Finally, the time which "the hunt" in season one (and more importantly for this story, Mary's encounter with Pamuk) is difficult to determine, but for the sake of this story please assume it took place at the end of January or early February.
Oh, and OOOOOOOOOO is time change
And XXXXXXXXXXXXX is POV change
The spring weather felt warm on Mary's back, and she strolled more determinedly; she knew spending the afternoon outdoors was the right decision. Even her housemaid, Anna's suggestion that they walk by the fair that was being set up in Downton Village was an acceptable idea.
Anna had been quiet for several moments, simply watching people as they set up booths, while Mary enjoyed the space away from her family. Then Anna stopped walking and said carefully, "Is her ladyship all right? I mean has she recovered from…"
Mary bristled, as Anna unknowingly interrupted her space. Her friend's words almost made her dizzy. "If you think she'll ever recover from carrying the body of Mr. Pamuk from one side of the house to the other," she paused, pressing her lips together, as she remembered her mother's reaction that night. Her mother's anger and disappointment hurt Mary more than she thought it would have, as she tended to dismiss her mother in favor of Papa and Granny. But the hard look on Mama's face when she discovered Mary had bedded a guest and her biting tone when Mary begged her assistance in carrying him back to his own bed still haunted Mary over a month later.
"Then you don't know her at all."
"Well, I didn't mean 'recover,' exactly. Just," Anna said, seeming to pause to search for the correct phrase. "Get past it."
"She won't do that, either. When she dies, they'll find it engraved on her heart," Mary said.
Anna's soft blue eyes looked directly into Mary's. "What about you? What about your heart?"
Anna's comment caused Mary even more dizziness than before. She knew Anna meant well; she was sweet like that, but her maid had no idea how important it was that Mary bury her feelings; even her feelings about a man who died laying on top of her.
"Haven't you heard?" Mary said, deliberately casual. "I don't have a heart. Everyone knows that."
"Not me, milady," Anna said softly.
Mary should protest that, but instead she simply continued walking through empty booths, once again enjoying the spring air.
All at once, the dizziness hit again, causing Mary to almost slip. Fortunately, Anna caught her by the arms. "Easy, milady," she said in her calm, gentle voice.
"Don't worry about me, Anna," Mary said, deliberately casual again. "I must have slipped on a stone."
"Of course," Anna said, still holding onto one of Mary's arms. "It's just that it isn't the first time that has happened. There was the time you almost slipped on the stairs before dinner."
Mary pressed her lips at Anna, horrified that the other woman mentioned that incident. What would have happened if Mama, or worse, Edith had seen her stumble like that? "How dare you use that against me now? I told you that in confidence. I suppose you'll run to Mama now." Why did Mary ever think a servant could keep a secret? From what Granny said, they all reported ever detail to her when she oversaw Downton.
Anna's face stared at the ground, but her hand still held onto Mary's arm. "I won't tell anyone, milady. I promised you I wouldn't. But I admit, I am a bit concerned about you. Should you see Dr. Clarkson?"
Mary shook her head firmly. "No, Anna. As I said, I simply slipped on a stone, and the day on the stairs, I was wearing the wrong shoes." With that, they walked out of the incomplete booths.
OOOOOOOOOOO
The next day, the fair was open, and villagers, tenant farmers, and the like swarmed around complete booths and children's rides . Sybil had even convinced Mary to spend an hour or two at the fair this afternoon.
While Sybil bought a piece of candy for a child, Mary noticed Cousin Mathew playing a one of the games. He appeared to be throwing a ball at some pins. For some reason, when he saw Mary, he broke into a smile. "I thought I'd have a go before I went home. How about you?"
Mary nodded, although these types of games were not her usual activity. But naturally, she had to be polite to Cousin Mathew. The man in charge of the booth handed her a ball.
"Do you know if your father is doing anything this evening?" Cousin Mathew said, pausing in the game for some reason to speak to her.
"He's not coming to the fair," Mary said, wondering why he was speaking of Papa. As far as Papa was concerned, fairs were for common folk. She tended to agree with him, but Mary could never say no to Sybil.
Cousin Mathew's blue eyes stared into Mary's. "Seriously."
Mary stepped up to throw the ball. "He's having dinner with his family." She tossed it at the pins.
"Could I look in afterwards?" he hurled his own ball, and for some reason, Mary watched, absorbed in the way his arm moved.
"Your grandmother paid me a visit this afternoon, and I…" Cousin Mathew said, glancing back at Mary. Had he noticed her interest in his arm? "Well, never mind, but I would like to see him."
"Granny came to see you?" said Mary, throwing her own ball with a little more effort than the first time. "Is it all part of the Great Matter?" She forced herself to keep her voice casual, but her heartbeat faster at the mere possibility that she might inherit Downton herself.
Cousin Mathew threw another ball, smiling at her as he did so. She hoped it was because he had a favorable answer to the 'Great Matter', rather than because of her interest in the way his arm moved.
"So, are you enjoying your new life?" Mary asked casually, forcing herself to focus on something else.
Cousin Mathew smiled. "Yes, I think so. I know my work seems very trivial to you."
Despite herself, Mary appreciated the way he spoke to her. He didn't placate her the way most men did, even Papa sometimes. Because of that, Mary found herself saying, "Not necessarily. Sometimes I rather envy, having somewhere to go every morning."
Cousin Mathew didn't hide his surprise at that. "I thought that made me very middle class?"
Sighing a little, Mary said, "You should learn to forget what I say. I do." If he intended to spend time with her at all, he needed to learn that she said things when she was cross that she later regretted and, therefore, forgot.
Meanwhile, Cousin Mathew had found his bicycle and walked next to it as he spoke now that they were done with the game. "How about you? Is your life proving satisfactory? Apart from the Great Matter, of course?"
Perhaps because she'd already revealed more than she'd expected to him, Mary said, "Women like me don't have a life. We choose clothes and pay calls and work for charity, and do the Season." For some horrid reason, Mary felt tears filling her eyes. Blinking her eyes hard, she said bitterly, "But really, we're stuck in a waiting room until we marry."
The more Mary thought about how her value was to be defined by what type of man she married, the more her rage built, and she scowled despite herself. At the same time, she smelt a whiff of fair food, something fried from the stench of it. And her stomach flipped around in an uncomfortable way. What kind of food did they serve here?
"I've made you angry," Cousin Mathew said, reminding her of his presence.
Mary looked directly into Cousin Mathew's blue eyes. Despite her rage, it was important for some reason that he understand this. "My life makes me angry. Not you."
From the look he gave her, he just might understand. And then he rode his bicycle out of her sight. Mary sighed. She had to find Sybil and convince her to leave, particularly considering Mary could still smell that horrid stench of fried food. It was a good thing their cook, Mrs. Patmore didn't serve this type of food at Downton.
OOOOOOOO
That evening, Mary prepared to descend the stairs for dinner, eager to consume proper food. She stepped carefully so not to slip again, especially as Papa was next to her. "I ran into Cousin Mathew at the fair, and he wants to call on you after dinner," she said, deliberately casual, as her foot moved to the next step. "Apparently, Granny's been to see him."
"Did you tell him she was coming here this evening?" Papa asked, as if his question mattered not.
But Mary's heart jumped in shock at that. Desperately, she hoped Papa didn't notice the way she clutched the banister. "I didn't know she was," Mary said out loud.
"When he arrives, do your best to keep her in the drawing room," Papa said, as if the two of them were planning some scheme. Obviously, he didn't notice any of Mary's discomfort.
Relieved, she resumed walking down the stairs, careful where she placed her feet. "I'd like to see you try," she said, almost laughing at the idea that anyone could keep Granny from doing anything.
OOOOOOOOO
As the women finished dinner and headed for the drawing room, Mary noticed Cousin Mathew waiting in the edge of the hall. Remembering what Papa had said about keeping him from Granny, Mary discretely walked over to him. "If you go into the library, I'll tell Papa you're here."
Mathew smirked at her, as if enjoying the secret. "Thank you." With that, he walked toward the library, and Mary dashed toward the dining room, where Papa would still be smoking his cigar.
OOOOOOOOOO
When Mary joined the other women in the drawing room, Sybil, ever the idealist, kept asking Mama and Granny about going to school. Meanwhile, Edith whined about some nonsense, and Mary was losing her patience. What was Cousin Mathew discussing with Papa?
Finally, her father entered the drawing room and Mary couldn't stop the small smile from spreading across her face. "Mary, Cousin Mathew would like to see you in the library," Papa said carefully.
"Yes, of course," Mary said with a nod. Eager to leave Edith, she stood up and headed for the library.
But the grim expression on Cousin Mathew's face almost caused Mary's smile to disappear. "Mary, I have bad news," he said.
"Certainly, it cannot be that bad," Mary said, with false cheerfulness, although his expression and the weight of the near – empty room contradicted the statement.
Mathew shook his head slowly. "Your grandmother asked me to search the entail to find the way to challenge it, but there is none. In fact, just to consider it, we'd need a private bill in parliament."
So that was why Mathew was here today. Mary should have known. On some level, she had known ever since he'd asked to speak to Papa. Anger and resentment at everyone from the government for setting things against her, Papa for not fighting, Mathew for delivering the news, and herself for not realizing it sooner welled up inside Mary.
"To break the entail, we'd need a private bill in parliament?" she said, spitting out the words so bitterly she almost tasted bile.
"And even then, it would only be passed if the estate were in danger, which it is not," Cousin Mathew said in the same serious voice he'd used since he'd arrived.
"And I mean nothing in all this?" she said, becoming even more cross. In fact, this time she tasted bile. She'd never been so full of anger she'd almost been sick before.
"On the contrary," Cousin Mathew said, stepping closer to her. "You mean a great deal. I'm sorry. I wish I could think of something that would help."
Discretely stepping away from him, both to hide her emotions and to prevent him from getting any sickness, Mary said, " There is nothing, so don't let it trouble you."
Annoyingly, Mathew stepped closer again, to look directly into Mary's eyes. "It does trouble me. It troubles me very much."
Mary stepped away from him more deliberately this time. "Then that will be my consolation prize. Good night, Cousin Mathew."
For some reason, he had to look directly into her eyes again. Mary had never noticed the exact shade of his eyes. They were a light, almost greyish blue that suited him perfectly. "Good night," he said.
OOOOOOOOO
The next morning, Mary still fumed about Papa and the entail while she ate her breakfast. The bacon was obviously spoiled, given her horrid reaction to it. At least dear Carson, who always supported her even when Papa didn't, immediately removed the bacon from the room.
Instead of the rancid bacon, Mary consumed an extra scone and another cup of tea, and internally scowling at her father.
"Mary," Papa's voice interrupted her thoughts as she took another sip of tea. "I'd like to take a walk with you this morning. After you've finished."
Of course, he did. Papa wished to explain how 'reasonable' his decision, with regards to the entail was. She nodded, but purposely placed another scone on her plate. He'd have to wait.
OOOOOOOOOO
But eventually, Mary and Papa took their walk. The spring air blew past them, and ordinarily she loved the warmer weather, especially combined with newly growing grass and fresh flowers of Downton.
But not today. Today was the day Mary was forced to remember none of this would ever belong to her. "The only one who never sticks up for me in all of this is you," Mary said to Papa. Granny had been Mary's champion from the beginning to the end. Mama, despite often fumbling to understand Mary and the culture of British aristocracy, had tried in the beginning. Even Cousin Mathew, a near stranger who was set to lose everything if Mary were the heiress, had attempted to help her. "Why is that?"
But Papa never tried once. That's what hurt the most.
"You are my darling daughter, and I love you, as hard as it is for an Englishman to say the words," Papa said. "If I had made my own fortune and bought Downton for myself, it should be yours without question, but I did not."
Mary pressed her lips together, still cross. She knew how difficult it was for Papa to say, 'I love you' out loud, and she wanted to appreciate it, but how could Mary when his actions showed her Papa didn't love her?
"My fortune is the work of others, labored to create a great dynasty. Do I have the right to destroy their work? Or impoverish that dynasty?" Papa said, looking lovingly at Downton as he did so.
Mary knew how much he adored Downton, but did it occur to him she loved it just as much as he did? For some reason, tears filled her eyes as his lack of appreciation, and she forced them away.
"I am a custodian my dear, not an owner," Papa said, still trying to justify his thoughtless decision. "I strive to be worthy of the task. If I could take Mama's money out of the estate, Downton would have to be sold to pay for it.
Is that what you want?" Papa looked directly at Mary, as if he knew how much she adored Downton, so she would never want to see it ruined. But it that was the case, why wouldn't Papa allow Downton to be hers? "To see Mathew a landless peer with a title but no means to pay for it?"
So, Mary didn't matter, so long as Mathew could be a proper lord? Did Papa have any idea how frustrating and demeaning he was being? "So, I am just to find a husband and get out of the way?" Tears filled her eyes again, almost overflowing this time, but Mary refused to let them fall.
"You could stay here if you married Mathew," Papa said, again proving that her worth depended on who she married.
Everything in Mary recoiled at that idea. Swallowing a couple of times until her voice sounded normal, Mary said. "You know my character, Father. I'd never marry any man that I was told to. I'm stubborn. I wish I wasn't, but I am."
Papa was correct, after all. Wedding Cousin Mathew would be the best way to live at Downton forever. But how could Mary do that when her heart had come so close to being the heiress of her estate? Mary looked longingly at the house, the stables, and the gardens. Beyond her vision were the farms and the village which supported their family. Why couldn't it belong to her?
"You're such a boor, Papa," Mary said, too cross to think of being respectable.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
A couple of days later, Mary had apologized to Papa for her disrespectful remark, and he blathered on about how wonderful Mathew was after dinner. His praise of his new heir was like a knife in Mary's chest, each word sharper than the last. Tears filled her eyes once again and the rage built.
Desperate to leave the drawing room before her eyes overflowed or she said something she would regret, she made her way to her bedroom, stumbling on the stairs only once.
As soon as she reached the safety of her red walls the tears spilled down her face. Papa didn't care about her anymore. Papa had someone better. Mary had always believed crying was for children and sentimental fools, but she couldn't stop herself this time.
More tears fell as she sat on her bed, and that's when Mama entered the room. "Oh, my darling," she said in her calm, sweet voice that Mama obviously thought would cause Mary to feel better. "What is it?"
"You heard him," Mary said, unable to stop herself from crying, even in front of Mama. "Mathew this. Mathew that. Mathew, Mathew, Mathew! Oh Mother, don't you see? Of course, he didn't want to break the entail. Why would he when he's got what he wanted?"
"Your father loves you very much," Mama said in the same sweet, calm voice that didn't help at all.
"He wouldn't fight for me though," Mary said, wishing she could stop the tears from falling.
"He wouldn't fight because he couldn't win," Mama said, in the same voice. She was always too naïve to understand anything. And Mama didn't wish for Mary to inherit Downton anymore, either.
She stood up, her rage building even as tears still stained her face. "Well, you're no better. You don't care about Mathew getting everything because you don't think I'm worthy of it!"
"Mary!" Mama said, in a horrified voice, even though Mary knew Mama thought of this all the time since the Turk had died.
"I wish you'd just admit it," Mary said, wandering around the room as she finally voiced all her thoughts. "I'm a lost soul to you. I took a lover with no thought of marriage. A Turk!" As she continued speaking, Mary suddenly fell forward again, and she desperately grasped her vanity for support.
"Mary!" Mama said, immediately wrapping her arms around her tightly. "Are you all right, darling?"
Mary shrugged, refusing to admit how many times she'd fallen in the last few days. "Don't worry about me, Mama. There is something wrong with my shoes." She pointed to her silver evening shoes, which had been giving her trouble.
Mama nodded, removing the shoes to inspect them closely. They were smooth and leathery at the same time, with a bit of a heel to cause Mary to appear taller. "We will buy you new shoes immediately, then, as long as you are certain that's the only problem. I could book you with an appointment with Dr. Clarkson, you know."
Mary shook her head firmly. "No, Mama. And you can go down now. Everything will look better in the morning.' Isn't that what you usually say?"
"I say that because it's usually true," Mama said in that same calm voice, her arms still wrapped around Mary.
"Papa will wonder where you are," Mary said firmly again, removing her mother's hands from her body.
Mama finally stood up and began walking out of the room. But before she left, she turned her head back. "Don't quarrel with Mathew."
"Why shouldn't I?" Mary said, confused and annoyed that Mama should make such a statement. She had no idea how enjoyable quarreling with their cousin could be.
"Because one day, you may need him," Mama said more firmly than she'd spoken before.
"I see," Mary said, understanding exactly what Mama meant now. "When I've ruined myself, I must have a powerful protector to hide behind." She certainly didn't need Cousin Mathew's pity.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
OOOOOOOOOOO
Later that night, Cora sat in her bed, still worried about Mary. Staring at the light blue walls of the bedroom, Cora pictured Mary's sudden fall over and over again. Were her daughter's shoes truly the only reason she stumbled? So lost in her thoughts, Cora barely noticed when Robert entered the room.
Until she felt the bed move next to her and he said, "Are you certain Mary is all right, darling? I thought she'd begun to forgive me when she apologized for her ghastly remark the other day."
Cora's hands immediately stroked his face as she saw his somber expression. His cheeks sagged, and his eyes held no sparkle. Cora had agonized over Mary all evening, but his face broke Cora's heart. "She will be, Robert," she said, forcing her lingering doubts away.
"Mary is just struggling because she cannot have what she wants," she said with a soft chuckle as she thought of how many other members of her family did the same thing.
Chuckling as if he understood her meaning, Robert nodded. "I just wish she wouldn't push herself away from me so."
Cora kissed his cheek, remembering how close Mary and Robert had been in the years past. Mary was so upset, claiming Robert didn't love her. She had conveniently forgotten how many gifts Robert had bought for Mary, from jewelry to riding equipment. She had forgotten the governess Robert had fired just because Mary didn't like her, and all the different times they spoke in a language only the two of them understood.
A bond like that couldn't be broken so easily. "She'll come around eventually."
Robert's lips landed on her cheek, causing Cora to feel warm and fuzzy. "Thank you, darling," he said in a deep sincere voice as he withdrew. After a moment, he added, "I wish I understood why wedding Mathew is so offensive to her. She was willing to marry Cousin Patrick for Downton, but she refuses to consider Cousin Mathew."
"I'm not certain I understand, either" Cora said with a sigh. She'd always tried to comprehend everyone in her family, but her oldest daughter was so different than her mother. And it didn't help that Mary tended to push Cora away when she tried to understand her daughter. Tonight, was a perfect example of that.
"Perhaps things are different because of how much our family has changed." Cora said, pushing her body closer to her husbands for comfort.
"Perhaps," Robert said, as if that answer made no sense to him, either. He turned out the light and lay in the dark.
Snuggling closer to her husband, Cora tried to focus only on his presence, not on Mary's stumble and the possible reasons for it. Was it truly just her shoes or was Mary trying to hide an illness? Or was it…
Cora almost froze at the horrible possiblity. It couldn't be. Absolutely not.
Robert immediately turned and faced Cora in response to her body's stiffness. "Darling, is there something else wrong?"
"No, of course not, darling," Cora said, ignoring the way her heartbeat faster. Truly it wasn't a lie. She didn't know the fear that had just occurred to her was the problem.
Still, she had to know. Snuggling even closer to Robert, she stared at her hands in the dark. "Only, I wondered if Mary has had any trouble with breakfast lately?
"Not really," Robert said in a confused way. But before Cora could relax completely, he added, "A couple of days ago, the bacon appeared to disagree with her, but Carson fortunately took it away before it became a problem for the rest of us."
Cora didn't answer, but snuggled even closer to him, hoping to lean on his strength unknowingly. It was possible that the bacon had been a bad batch, but coupled with Mary's recent stumble, Cora worried it might be evidence of something else altogether.
But it couldn't be.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
But despite how troublesome the idea was, Cora knew the next day she they had to find out if it was true. If what she suspected was even a possiblity, Mary couldn't see Dr. Clarkson. Cora had heard of specialist in London who should be able to decide whether this was the problem.
With her heart pounding, Cora sent a telegram, requesting an appointment for Mary in the near future. Surely Cora was just being paranoid. It couldn't be.
OOOOOOOOOOO
But when she received a telegram, scheduling Mary for an appointment in two days, Cora knew she must tell Mary. Fortunately, Robert was visiting tenants this afternoon, and Edith and Sybil were occupied with charities.
She sat in the library, her hands running over the telegram and took a deep breathe. Too quickly, Mary arrived in the library. "Carson said you wished to see me, Mama?" Mary said, as if there were no problem.
Cora only wished that were the case. "Yes," she said firmly. "I think you should sit down." She gestured at the seat next to her on the red settee. Mary did but said naught. "I'm concerned about you, Mary." Her daughter opened her mouth, no doubt to insist there was nothing wrong again, but Coral shook her head. "Perhaps you are right, and there is nothing wrong, but there is another possiblity. You could be," Cora took a deep breathe. "With child."
Mary's entire body seemed to shake as she glanced all over the library. "Mama we cannot talk about such things here." She huffed as if her mother didn't understand anything. "You don't know who might be listening without our knowledge."
Cora wanted to ask why Mary hadn't thought of that before she allowed the Turk into her bedroom, but this wasn't the time for such things. And perhaps Mary had a point. Mama had constantly warned Cora that she should not discuss anything she didn't wish the servants to hear unless it was in the safety of a bedroom after all the servants had retired themselves. Cora hated to think ill of their servants, as they were all loyal to their family, but this was such a sensitive matter.
"All right," she said with a nod. Looking through the large windows of the library, she saw it had stopped raining. "We will go outside and talk there. I'll meet you in ten minutes."
"Mama, be reasonable," Mary said, in a snappish voice.
"I am being reasonable," Cora said, reminding herself that if she were correct, then Mary could be responding to hormones, and that would be the least of their problems.
OOOOOOOOOOO
Soon, Cora arrived at the door in her violet – colored day dress, suitable for walking, and a white coat. Mary was dressed in light blue day dress and a coat of the same color. Carson asked them if they needed anything else, and Cora quickly told him no.
"Now that we should be out of hearing distance," Mary said as they walked away from the house, careful to stay away from the gardeners. "I can tell you how foolish you are being. I couldn't be," she lowered her voice even further. "Pregnant. And I couldn't see Dr. Clarkson about such a thing. It would cause gossip all over the county, never mind our own servants." She huffed and kept walking, while Cora watched her, ready to catch her if she stumbled again.
It was obvious how careful Mary had thought she'd been when she'd been seduced by the Turk. Cora wondered why she hadn't thought to warn her daughters about strange exotic men and the words they would use to convince you of inappropriate behavior. She'd cautioned them about men leading young women into the dark at balls, but it never occurred to Cora that her daughters wouldn't be safe in their own home.
Out loud, Cora said, "I'm pleased you thought that through," in a tone that stated that Mary hadn't thought of everything at all, or she would have considered a possible pregnancy when she agreed to bed the Turk. "And you should be happy to know I didn't schedule you to see Dr. Clarkson. I scheduled you to see a specialist in London. A Dr…Ryder, I believe his name is. For added protection against gossip, I also booked you under my mother's name. The appointment is for Thursday afternoon." Reaching her side pocked, Cora pulled out the telegram she'd received, stating the details.
Mary was silent as she thought about that. She studied the telegram for several moments. Finally, she said, "You thought of everything, didn't you?"
Cora nodded, ignoring Mary's spite. Her daughter couldn't possibly be… "I wish I didn't have to do so. But I will tell everyone else we are looking for your new shoes. Sybil received a new frock recently, so it's no matter for you to receive something new as well. And if you are correct, and your shoes are the only issue, that will be fixed." She glanced at Mary's shoes as she spoke, trying to see if they were causing troubles. The ground was still wet from the morning rain, after all.
Mary sighed. "Fine, but I will choose where we will eat luncheon."
OOOOOOOOOOO
Late Thursday morning, Cora and Mary boarded the train claiming they would take luncheon in London. Mary sat primly in her first-class seat, in her indigo – colored traveling clothes. She looked straight ahead, as if there were nothing at all wrong. Cora wished she could appear as unaffected. Instead, she bit her lip and fidgeted with her dark yellow traveling gloves.
It couldn't be. Cora repeated to herself.
But as the train zoomed, she noticed Mary grew increasingly more uncomfortable. Despite trying to look straight ahead and unaffected, Mary's expression grew grimmer every time the train moved. Once she almost brushed her stomach with her gloved hand.
With all her frustration and fear for her daughter, Cora still understood her discomfort. She could remember too well how unpleasant it was to travel on a train while she was pregnant. "I'll ask for the attendants to bring you a cup of ginger tea," Cora said, leaning closer to whisper the word to Mary. "It helps."
Mary huffed. "That's not necessary, Mama." But when she grimaced at the next turn, Cora knew just how necessary it was.
Cora ordered both of them a cup of ginger tea, so not to attract more attention to Mary, and several moments later, they slowly sipped it. The familiar taste was relaxing, especially as Cora watched Mary's grim expressions disappear. "I want you to know," she said leaning closer to speak to Mary softly again. "That no matter what happens, today, you'll always have a place in our family, and you'll always be my daughter."
Cora couldn't believe Mary's actions the night Mr. Pamuk died, and it had only become worse since she'd realized the consequences that might have occurred. But she also knew Mary had been struggling with her self-worth for a while, and Cora couldn't let her daughter think she'd be rejected completely.
Cora would find a way to fix this.
Before anyone mentions it, I know Mary's encounter with Pamuk wasn't exactly consensual, and we will get to her thoughts about what happened in future chapters.
But Cora has no reason to believe it wasn't consensual. The idea that a man could enter a lady's room without her permission would never occur to Cora.
