AUTHOR'S NOTE: Trigger warning for this chapter - we reached the conclusion of S4E3 and this chapter is dealing with Green's attack on Anna. I did change this scene and its conclusion, but it can still be distressing to read. If such content is too hard for you, please omit this chapter or the scene itself.

CHAPTER 9 - Concert at Downton

Dining room, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

With so many guests present, breakfast was quite a big affair, even with most of the married ladies having a tray in their bed instead of joining the others in the dining room.

Matthew found himself next to Tony Gillingham while helping himself to sausages at the sideboard and reminded himself to be friendly. The viscount was his guest and he didn't do anything objectionable. He could hardly blame the man for having eyes.

"You played late. I hope you didn't think me rude for going to bed."

For some reason, Gillingham coloured slightly.

"No. Not one bit."

"How was the game?"

"Sampson is a very skilled player," said Gillingham pointedly. Matthew cursed mentally.

"Oh," he said only, his mind whirling. Great, just what they needed at their very first event. A card cheat fleecing the guests off. Mary was going to be furious.

His mood was not at all improved when he sat by Rose and heard her conversation with Sir John.

"Where were you last night?" Rose was asking, pouting slightly.

"Being thrashed by Sampson," answered Sir John easily.

Rose laughed in sympathy.

"Poor you! I hope that means I can count on you tonight."

"You can always count on me," answered Sir John looking at Rose intently and Matthew sighed. Seemed there was another matter requiring close attention. Rose really was incorrigible.

He gratefully turned to Tom, who was just seating on his other side.

"What are your plans for today?"

"I thought I'd go to the South Wood, look at the new planting."

Matthew smiled sardonically.

"What, the prospect of helping me entertain our guests not as enticing as a muddy field?"

Tom smirked.

"Not in the slightest."

"Lucky man," mumbled Matthew resentfully, cutting viciously into his sausage. "I would have gladly switched with you and you know my feelings about mud."

Tom just smirked again.

Downton grounds, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Mary and Tony were riding through the woods at a leisurely pace, chatting amiably. To her surprise, so far she was having quite a nice time.

"Mabel Lane Fox? So you've caught the greatest heiress of the season," she noted playfully.

"She's very nice, in fact," said Tony a tad defensively, in Mary's opinion.

"I'm sure."

"Of course, everyone wants it, on both sides, but we do get on."

Wasn't Mary familiar with that exact scenario!

"You may be surprised to hear that a match which is wanted by everyone can turn out to be extremely happy."

"Do you speak from experience?" asked Tony looking at her intently. Mary rolled her eyes.

"Absolutely. Matthew and I were flung at each other's heads from the moment he arrived. If anything, it rather slowed matters up."

"But you are happy?"

"Wonderfully happy," answered Mary emphatically. Tony's face fell.

"How lucky you are."

"More than you can know," agreed Mary easily.

"You have a great love," continued Tony wistfully. "Doesn't that enrich any life?"

Mary had considered it seriously before and she had her doubts about that.

"I'm not sure it's always the case. I am deliriously happy now, but Matthew changed me. I love him, but he changed me. If I were as tough as I was before I met him, I bet it would have been easier for me to face some of the challenges I have encountered over the years. And if we didn't resolve our differences in the end, the very love I have for him would have made it impossible for me to be happy. You can pay a very hefty price for a great love."

"But would you prefer to live your life without experiencing it?" asked Tony intently.

"No," answered Mary thoughtfully. "I cannot say I would."

Library, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Matthew was observing Tony and Mary setting out for their ride when Jack approached him by the window.

"Why aren't you with them?" he asked, pointing towards the riders with his coffee cup.

Matthew shrugged with studied indifference.

"Didn't feel like it."

"Your back bothering you much?" asked Jack, looking at him shrewdly.

"Not at all," answered Matthew airily.

Jack scoffed.

"And my lungs make me fit to run a marathon. Seriously, Crawley, how bad is it?"

Matthew sighed.

"Not bad at all, really. Unless I stand too long. Or sit too long. Or get jostled badly, so horse riding is out. So is cycling, unless the road is mostly smooth, and believe me, rural Yorkshire is not famous for its smooth roads. I miss my bicycle," he said mournfully, but then brightened up deliberately. "But I can walk. And dance with my wife. And walk up the fucking stairs to my bedroom. Not to mention enjoy the activities in the bedroom which are not reduced to sleeping and reading. I have a son whom I can watch by myself even when he does his best to crawl away from me. Those are all the things I thought I lost forever. So forgive me that I don't feel like complaining about a bit of backpain. Which used to be so damn worse back then anyway."

Jack looked at him seriously and shook his head.

"I guess you are the lucky bastard, Crawley, just as you've always been," he bent his head, looking thoughtful. "I guess I should call you Grantham now. Sounds bloody weird in my mouth though."

Matthew laughed ruefully.

"You can stay with plain old Crawley," he said. "I feel like one anyway."

Downton grounds, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Mary and Tony came cantering up a hill and stopped to enjoy the view. Before them Downton estate was spread out in near entirety; a scene of pastoral perfection at this bright spring morning.

"How wonderful to see an estate that's still all in one piece," mused Tony, taking the view in.

"Don't speak too soon," muttered Mary darkly.

"What do you mean?"

Mary sighed tiredly.

"Well, we have a big tax bill to pay. We must consider selling land, since it would be treated as capital gain and tax free, but I'd like to see if we can avoid it. The trouble is, we are not sure how to go around it. Matthew has enough money to cover the tax bill, but that would put a significant dent in our savings and we are wary of it too. Downton is not self-sufficient, although we are working on it, so without the capital to support it, we could easily end up in trouble. Basically we have been going in circles about it for the last few months and we need to come to a decision soon. We are just really afraid of making a wrong one."

"Shall I tell you what I'd do?"

"Please."

"Meet the tax people, then bring back the best deal they can offer. In that way you'll have a real case to argue. They can be surprisingly accommodating and willing to negotiate different payment schemes. We had a similar choice when Father died. And in the end, we let the house but kept the land," he said earnestly.

Mary looked at him with genuine gratitude.

"Thank you. It's nice to know one's not alone. That others are facing the same trials."

"No. You're not alone," agreed Tony with a smile.

"I'll ring tomorrow and make an appointment. Matthew or Tom can come with me."

"I'm sure you don't need my help, but it's yours for the asking."

"Thank you," answered Mary, smiling gratefully.

"May I take you out for dinner, when you're in London?" asked Tony daringly. Mary's eyebrows shot up.

"I don't think Miss Lane Fox would approve. And nor would I, really."

"What about Lord Grantham?"

"Matthew? You know, I'm not sure," said Mary musingly. "He could be alright with it, because he trusts me enough to have dinner with a friend without feeling all insecure about that."

Then she grinned predatorily and shrugged.

"Or he might punch you in the face. I've seen him do it once, you know. He has a real mean right hook."

Library, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Edith and Michael walked into the library, finding other male guests are loitering about, most of them reading newspapers, with Jack and Matthew talking by the window. Edith knew that Cora was holding court in the drawing room, while some of the younger crowd went walking in the gardens instead.

"It is nice to get a break from my daily lessons, but I really shouldn't neglect them too much, especially since I see I'm getting quite fluent," commented Michael.

"You're taking German lessons?"

Michael chuckled.

"If I'm going to live there."

Edith felt herself colouring slightly.

"No, no. Of course. I just can't get over the fact you're doing all this to be with me."

"Whatever it takes," answered Michael with a smile and Edith felt a surge of conviction that she would do anything it takes to be with him as well. For the very first time in her life, a man was actually fighting for her instead, at best, passively capitulating to her efforts.

xxx

Edith left him by a window to fetch them some coffee from the nearby table and Michael couldn't help but overhear conversation between Lord Grantham and his friend regarding the very unfortunate fact that their house party included a card sharp, apparently fleecing the other guests. He mulled over it for a moment, and, seeing Lord Grantham walking away to get more coffee as well, he approached Mr Weatherby cautiously and mentioned that there was a matter he would like to discuss.

"I would bring it up to Lord Grantham directly, but I'm afraid I am not his favourite person at the moment," Michael smiled self-deprecatingly.

Jack sniggered.

"To put it mildly. He is a very understanding person, but he can hold a grudge when he feels himself wronged. And he hates being taken for a fool."

"I can understand his point of view, even though it was not at all intentional on my part. I fully did intend to break things with Lady Edith. But when she said she does not want to... I wasn't strong enough to resist my feelings then."

He thought Jack looked vaguely sympathetic and his next words confirmed it.

"It is hard when you cannot act on your feelings due to societal constraints, I know. And when the person you love loves you back, even though it's not a done thing... Yes, I can understand the temptation," he grew serious. "But you're fooling yourself if you think Matthew will accept it just like that. He has always been determined to do the right thing, even at the cost of his personal happiness, and expects others to act in a similar fashion. It's both his most admirable and his most damnable feature, to be honest."

Michael shrugged.

"I don't really need his acceptance and neither does Lady Edith, not truly. But I would like to thaw the ice a bit, if possible."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Jack curiously.

"I heard your conversation with you regarding Sampson's underhanded tricks," said Michael carefully. "And I couldn't help thinking back to a rather misspent part of my youth..."

Jack smirked slowly.

"Do go on," he said, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Dining room, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Predictably, Sampson proposed another game during lunch.

"I'm getting up a game after we finish eating. What about you, Gillingham?"

"I don't think so," answered Gillingham evasively, rising a little in Matthew's estimation. At least he knew when to quit.

To his surprise, Jack jumped in, followed immediately by Gregson.

"I'll join you if you like," he offered with a smile Matthew knew very well. It usually meant he was plotting something.

"Is there a place for me?" asked Gregson eagerly.

Come to think of it, they both must be up to something. Matthew didn't know Gregson all so well, but his expression was entirely too innocent. Sampson didn't seem to notice though, answering affably.

"Certainly. Shall I meet you in the smoking room in ten minutes?"

"Very good," confirmed Jack genially, making Matthew narrow his eyes in suspicion. Then again, did he really want to know?

As soon as Sampson was out of the door, Gillingham turned to Jack in warning.

"I should be careful if I were you. Sampson is a very sharp player."

"Oh, I think I can look after myself," answered Jack with a sharklike smile and winked at Gregson.

Definitely plotting something.

Mary's private sitting room, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Mary invited Agnes and Caroline for tea in her and Matthew's private sitting room. The room was less necessary now, when technically the whole house belonged to them, but it still gave them bigger privacy, and now, with the house full of guests, Mary found it very useful. Besides, she decorated it herself from scratch and the room's bold, modern look filled her with confidence and good cheer quite unlike the yellow parlour traditionally belonging to a current Countess of Grantham and which still felt much more like Mama's than her own. She actually thought Mama was entertaining her own friends there right this moment.

She looked at her own friends, Caroline in her aggressively Parisian outfit (Mary made a mental note to check the fashion shows now that she was out of mourning for Papa. Maybe she could even talk Matthew into a trip to Paris?) and Agnes, Duchess of Crowborough, pathetically ugly even in her very expensive clothes. Poor Agnes, with her beady eyes, wide face and low forehead, with her awkward, hunched figure and apologetic expression, would have probably never married, never mind so high, if her brother hadn't died in a freak accident just before the war started, leaving her the sole heiress of her mother's American fortune. Mary thought fiercely that Agnes would have probably been much luckier if her brother had survived until nearly broke Duke of Crowborough had found himself another heiress to dupe into marriage.

But today, for the first time in years, Agnes looked very nearly happy, and she announced the reason without any preamble.

"I'm pregnant!" she said, sounding disbelieving herself. "I am finally pregnant!"

Mary and Caroline both gave their most sincere congratulations with a slight pause to absorb the shock of her news. Agnes was married for eight years.

"Oh, Agnes, how marvellous for you!" exclaimed Mary honestly. "You really deserve it, darling. When is the baby expected?"

Agnes blushed with pleasure.

"In November," she said shyly. "The doctor said I am probably around three to four months along, but I know the exact date it could have happened."

Neither Mary nor Caroline commented on Agnes' knowledge.

"Well," Caroline said briskly instead. "It is the most welcome news, especially since you were forced to wait for so long for it. What has the Duke said when you told him? He must be elated as well."

Agnes' face fell slightly.

"He said he hopes to God it's a boy because he doesn't want to ever endure it again," she said calmly. "I am torn between wishing for a girl just to spite him and sharing his wish as I share his sentiments concerning our marital bed."

For a long moment, both of her friends were speechless. They knew, of course - the sad truth was everybody knew, one of the worst things about the Duke was his appalling lack of discretion - but to hear Agnes' plain speech, devoid even of very justified bitterness, was simply awful.

Mary felt bile coming up her throat at the memory of herself allowing that man to kiss her at a ball seemingly a lifetime ago. Of herself hoping desperately for his proposal. Of crying when he left Downton without one. She would have gladly agreed to be his wife then. If not for her fortune being too small for his debts, she could have been Agnes today.

She felt she was going to be sick at the thought.

Caroline's voice got her out of those revolting recollections.

"What a bastard," she said, then looked challengingly at Mary's and Agnes's shocked expressions. "What? He is. You aren't seriously going to quarrel with me that he doesn't deserve being called one?"

Suddenly Agnes broke out into slightly hysterical giggles.

"Out of all things he is - and he is plenty! - he's actually his father's son. He looks just like his portrait you know. Unless the Dowager Duchess had the portrait redone to protect him. God knows she has done lots of other things to do so on different occasions."

She rubbed off her tears, her eyes shining.

"But really, Caroline, you're right. He is a bastard, isn't he?"

"He is," agreed Mary fiercely. "There is no doubt about it. I sincerely hope that this baby is a boy, and he will fall into a ditch and break his neck before the baby is even born."

She took a deep breath. As cathartic as it was to them all to finally express the feelings they had for years regarding Agnes's marriage, the conversation took a too gloomy turn considering it started with a pregnancy announcement.

"So, Agnes, have you thought of names?" she asked brightly.

Nursery, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

As soon as Mary left her friends at the sound of dressing gong, she went in search of Matthew. After harrowing conversation with Agnes - and even more harrowing memories and realisations it had brought - she just needed to find her husband and have him hug her tightly. Or kiss her breathless, she was open about her options there.

Fortunately, Matthew was predictably easy to find in the very first place she tried - the nursery. He must have missed time with George while being busy with host duties and was now happily bouncing his squealing son on his knee. His face lightened up further at the sight of Mary, although, as usual, he seemed to immediately pick up on her distress.

"Where are Sybbie and Nanny Lewis?" asked Mary, before he could enquire what was wrong. As much as she came in search of comfort from him, she was not ready to talk about it quite yet. Maybe never.

And just as he noticed that she was distressed, Matthew knew her enough to give her space now. She knew that he would only prompt her to speak of her mood persisted, pointing to more serious reason for his concern.

She sometimes wondered what she had done to deserve the love of this man and promptly shuddered at a reminder that she could very well have missed out on that entirely, before she had even met him.

Matthew threw her another concerned look, but only answered her question.

"She went to give Sybbie her bath a bit earlier today. Tom took her out for a walk and they seemed to have an encounter with a vicious puddle. I saw them and I am not sure who of them was muddier."

His knee slowed down its bouncing rhythm while he was speaking and George squealed louder in protest at the interruption in their game. Matthew laughed and resumed the bouncing.

"Just remember to come early enough to dress that you won't be late for the concert," warned Mary, but her eyes were glued to the two of them. George's hair was still mostly brown, but with every passing day they seemed to lighten more and more. Isobel said that Matthew's had been the same as a baby and it was very likely that George's hair would turn blond too in the end. Which, considering his eyes, would make him practically a carbon copy of his father.

"Don't worry. I will just wait for Nanny Lewis's return and I will come. It should give us time to finish our game, shouldn't it, little chap?"

Matthew's voice was so fond when he was addressing their son, that Mary's throat closed again. She needed to go and get ready; asking for that hug now would only end in her tears and she had no wish to show her red eyes to their guests.

"Enjoy your game then, you two," she said gently and, after kissing them both lightly on their heads, left the nursery.

Mary and Matthew's bedroom, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Mary did everything in her power to put Duke of Crowborough out of her mind while letting Anna get her ready for dinner and the concert. She could dwell on might have beens and narrow escapes later.

"Are you looking forward to the concert, Anna?" she asked while picking jewellery to match her purple dress. She was hesitating between elegant pearl necklace set on a delicate chain and a more striking jet one. Anna was already weaving her hair through one of her diamond tiaras, signifying Mary's status as a married woman.

"Quite, milady," answered Anna brightly. "Although I feel a bit of a headache building up. I hope it won't spoil the evening for me."

"If it gets worse, don't wait up for me," said Mary with concern. "I'm perfectly able to get myself ready for bed, and I'm sure Lord Grantham won't mind if I ask him for help."

They exchanged saucy smiles.

"How is it downstairs with so many new faces? Although I think more than half of the guests came without their own servants, so you must be quite busy attending to them as well?" asked Mary, deciding in the end on the chain with pearls.

"We are indeed busy, milady, but it's exciting too. It's fun to have new people around for couple of days. Mr Green, Lord Gillingham's valet, taught us this boisterous card game and I don't remember us ever getting so noisy in the servants' hall!" she smiled saucily again. "Mr Bates looked quite disapproving, but I suspect he is just a bit jealous."

"Of that Mr Green?" asked Mary conspiratorially. Anna laughed and rolled her eyes.

"As if he ever had a reason to be!" she scoffed lightly. "But maybe a bit of jealousy won't hurt him. Should keep him on his toes."

She took a step back, looking at her handiwork critically.

"There. All done. What do you think, milady?"

Mary looked into her vanity mirror with admiration, touching her hair lightly.

"You're truly an artist, Anna," she said approvingly. "That will be all then. I will see you at the concert."

As if on clue, Matthew knocked lightly and came in through the doors to his dressing room.

"I see you managed to get ready in time then," commented Mary, her dry tone belied by her admiring gaze on her husband in white tie. She knew he didn't like how apparently uncomfortable it was, but goodness, was he handsome in it! She barely noticed Anna leaving the room.

"I did," answered Matthew with a smile, his eyes giving Mary an appreciative check of their own. "Although George took a bit of persuasion to relinquish his horse. In the end Nanny Lewis had to distract him with a chewing ring."

"Is he growing a new tooth then?" asked Mary with interest.

"Looks like it. I just hope it does not mean another night filled with tears and screaming."

Mary winced at the memory.

"Don't even remind me. Surely it cannot be so awful with every tooth he grows, can it?"

Matthew shrugged.

"We may hope," he said lightly, but then grew serious.

"What was it before? You appeared a bit out of sorts."

Mary sighed. She still didn't really want to talk about it.

"I will tell you later," she hedged. "It's nothing urgent, just unpleasant."

She hesitated. She really wanted that hug she was thinking about earlier but didn't want to ask. She wasn't a child to ask for such things.

And yet again, without being asked, Matthew just knew and casually came near and embraced her for a moment.

"You will crease my dress," mumbled Mary, but did not make a slightest move to leave his arms.

Dining room, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Matthew's biggest complaint regarding formal dinners was that he was necessarily seated away from his wife.

Hosting the dinner in question meant at least that they were seated opposite each other and he could look at her as much as he wanted, which was a significant consolation. They also could, and often did, exchange glances and smiles through each of interminably long courses. But they could not talk without speaking loudly over the table and being abominably rude to their dinner partners, so he still abhorred this enforced formality with a passion.

At least his dinner companions were Dame Nellie Melba, who turned out to be a sophisticated and extremely wide travelled lady, and Lady Caroline Blake, who kept him on his toes, as usual. Mary was seated between Lord Gillingham and Jack, which of course meant she was positively sparkling. A usual effect when she was surrounded by young men paying court to her. Matthew told himself grimly to get a grip. For goodness' sake, one of the men was Jack. He knew well enough that the flirting didn't mean anything in that quarter. And to think he was boasting to him just yesterday how blasé he was about men salivating over his wife. Which he was, of course. He just didn't really like seeing Mary enjoying herself quite so much while basking in the attention.

"She always was an awful flirt," Lady Caroline's poisonous tongue was in a good form this evening. "But you must realise she is mad about you."

Despite himself, Matthew did feel better at her words. He chuckled ruefully.

"I do know that," he assured Lady Caroline, hoping she didn't misconstrue his fleeting moment of jealousy. "I just wish I was seated next to her to enjoy those smiles directed at me."

"Instead of being forced to endure mine?" asked Lady Caroline sweetly, making him sputter a bit. "Oh, don't mind me, I am just a bitter old widow. And I had to endure watching you two making moon eyes at each other since 1914."

Matthew looked at her incredulously.

"You are Mary's age which means you are six years younger than me and I hardly feel old," he pointed out. "And there were unfortunately many years between 1914 and now when you couldn't have any opportunity to observe us in such context."

He was glad that his words came out more playful than bitter. He still regretted those lost years and misunderstandings which caused them with every fibre of his being.

Caroline shrugged.

"I have no idea what pulled you apart for a time," she said. "But I did have to endure Mary's moods when you were both engaged to other people and this was not pleasant. Out of two evils, I prefer moon eyes, as sickeningly sweet as they are. So don't let yourself fell into petty jealousy. You're making yourself completely ridiculous with such insecurity."

"I am hardly insecure where Mary is concerned," protested Matthew a bit petulantly. "I know she loves me, just like I love her. As I said, I was just wishing I was seating next to her at dinner."

Lady Caroline just rolled her eyes and thankfully changed the subject. Matthew allowed himself just one quick glance at Mary and Lord Gillingham. Unlike with Jack, he thought darkly that young viscount's soulful eyes were looking at his wife with disturbing earnestness.

Great Hall, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Sitting beside Matthew and holding his hand while listening to songs about love made Mary determined to organise some outings to the opera. Or to see a musical, Matthew did enjoy them. Her lips moved upwards in a slight smile at the thought of enjoying a concert like this one, but in a relative privacy of a theatre box. They really should go out more now that they were out of deep mourning and George was getting less reliant on her.

She felt Matthew squeeze her hand and when she looked at him, found him staring at her intently, his thoughts clearly circling around similar topics.

"I love you," he mouthed at her.

She mouthed the words back.

Downstairs, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Anna could not recall being so terrified in her life as when Green threw her into the boot room and she realised, despite her screams and desperate struggling, that she might not be able to fight him off.

Suddenly over the noise of their scuffle they heard the upper door closing. Somebody coming down the stairs.

Green froze, pulling Anna roughly to himself and covering her mouth with his hand.

"Be very quiet," he hissed.

Like hell she would! Anna bit him with all the strength of her sharp teeth she could muster and kicked him in the shin at the same time. Green barely restrained a howl of pain and relaxed his hold on Anna for a moment.

That was all she needed to bolt and run to the kitchen; to the safety of other people and the sharp kitchen knives.

If he came after her, he was going to regret it.

She nearly ran into Nanny Lewis, who was pouring milk into a pot and jumped with shock and Anna's frazzled and bloodied appearance.

"Heavens, what happened to you?!"

Anna looked behind her frantically and sagged in relief when she realised Green was not following her.

"Nothing good," she said, grasping Nanny Lewis' hand. "Please, can you help me? I cannot go back to the others looking like that!"

"Of course," said Nanny Lewis, frowning, but putting the jug and the pot on the table. "Come upstairs, I have antiseptic and bandages in the nursery. And we will look at your dress and hair too."

Despite the wild fear propelling her to action, Anna hesitated. "Won't I scare Miss Sybbie, looking like that?"

Nanny Lewis shook her head and squeezed Anna's hand comfortingly.

"It's dark in the nursery, just the night light is on, and I think Miss Sybbie will be asleep anyway. She asked for some milk with honey, but she is just as likely to fall back asleep before I managed to fetch it, this is how it usually goes."

Nursery, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

Anna thanked her lucky stars than Miss Sybbie was indeed deeply asleep by the time she and Nanny Lewis reached the darkened nursery. She was sat unceremoniously on the armchair, while Nanny Lewis reached for the medicine box.

"Look towards the light," she instructed quietly, mindful of the sleeping children, and gently started to apply the antiseptic to Anna's cut lip. Anna winced at the sting, but tried to keep still.

"Who was it?" asked Nanny Lewis, then added in reaction to Anna's stubbornly closed lips. "Just so I know who to be wary of."

Anna looked at Nanny Lewis, so like herself in looks – blond and slender, although taller – and felt a tendril of guilt.

"I will tell you, but you must swear not to tell anyone!" she whispered urgently. Nanny Lewis' face registered her surprise at the request but she nodded solemnly.

"It was Mr Green, Lord Gillingham's valet," Anna hissed furiously. She shuddered with hatred and revulsion. "He wanted to... he tried to..."

"I think I can guess well enough what he wanted and tried," said Nanny Lewis calmly, applying salve to the bruise on Anna's temple. "But he didn't manage, did he?"

Anna exhaled loudly.

"No," she said, a deep relief permeating every cell in her body. "I managed to get away when he heard you coming down, and he didn't dare to follow not knowing who it was. If it wasn't for you..."

Suddenly, she broke down into tears. Deep, wrenching, ugly sobs, more accurately, which she desperately tried to keep quiet as to not wake up the babies.

Nanny Lewis embraced her carefully, checking if her touch was making it better or worse. It was making it better. Anna found herself clinging herself desperately to her, momentarily craving the comfort.

"There, there," Nanny Lewis said gently, petting Anna's hair as she would with Miss Sybbie. Anna thought distractedly that she really must be a good nanny. "It was awful, but it's over now. You ran away, he didn't get you, you're safe now. And when you feel a bit more yourself, we're going to walk down and report that bloody bastard, so he won't see the light of day for years for what he did to you."

Anna's eyes widened in alarm.

"No!" she exclaimed in harsh whisper. "I cannot report him! We cannot tell anyone!"

Nanny Lewis' brows creased.

"Why? He deserves it. And with your injuries, nobody will doubt your story."

"That's not it," Anna shook her head frantically. "You don't understand! My husband, he cannot know!"

"Would he blame you for that?" asked Nanny Lewis incredulously. "I wouldn't think Mr Bates would be the type."

"No, of course not. But he would kill him and then he would be hanged. He nearly was once, you know. I cannot let him know!"

She was near hysterical with fear at the thought and Nanny Lewis must have noticed it, because she nodded, even if with clear reluctance.

"I will tell nobody," she said seriously. "But if you ever change your mind, I will be your witness. Now, let's see about making you presentable."

"Thank you, Miss Lewis!" said Anna fervently. "Thank you so much!"

Nanny Lewis smiled at her.

"I think after all that you should call me Hannah."

The Library, Downton Abbey, April 15th, 1922

To his surprise, Matthew found Tom drinking alone in the library after he ensured the card players in the smoking room had everything they needed to ensure a pleasant conclusion to their night.

"Why are you hiding yourself here?" he asked, noting with concern that by the looks of him, Tom was getting acquainted with his whisky for quite some time already.

"Why are you?" Tom asked back with a smirk. Matthew shook his head ruefully.

"I don't have the slightest desire to play cards, but I don't want to join the crowd in the drawing room either. I think I had enough company for a bit. I wanted to wait here until Mary is ready to go upstairs."

He looked at Tom again and asked hesitantly.

"Are you all right, Tom?"

"No. I'm afraid I've let you down."

Matthew stared at him in disbelief.

"What? Never! I wouldn't have been able to survive the last months without your help."

Tom sighed heavily.

"I know I can be useful to you with running the estate," he said confidently. "I know I am doing a good job there. But..."

"But?"

"Since Sybil died, you've all allowed me to believe I was one of you."

"Because you are one of us," answered Matthew immediately, but Tom just shook his head.

"No, I'm not. Not when you're among your own people."

Matthew looked at him incredulously, concern churning in his gut. This was clearly more serious than some insensitive remark from one of Cora's friends.

"You know I am not exactly one of them either, whatever title I carry nowadays."

Tom smiled wryly.

"But you can't deny the distance between you and them, and me and them, is quite different."

"No, I can't deny it," said Matthew, but immediately added firmly. "But you are one of us now. We are just a family that happens to have a former solicitor playing an earl and a former Irish radical and chauffer as his brother-in-law and one of his best friends. We keep each other marching in this bizarre world and I was being honest when I've said I wouldn't have been able to survive the last months without your help and company. Mary is the best wife and partner I could have ever imagined, but she does not get...how to put it..."

"How illogical, absurd and ridiculous her world is?" asked Tom dryly. Matthew laughed.

"Yes. That."

He grew serious.

"If gatherings such as this make you uncomfortable, you are free to refuse to participate, you know. None of us could dream of shunning you or being ashamed of you, but if it's making you truly unhappy, I'm sure they will all understand."

Tom sighed.

"It's not just that. I'm a fish out of water. My clothes deceive no one. And I've never felt it more than today, but it's not a sudden feeling. But thank you. I appreciate you are listening."

He poured himself more whisky, with Matthew looking at him, deeply troubled.

The Bates' cottage, Downton estate, April 16th, 1922

Anna took a deep breath and entered their small kitchen, where John was just putting out breakfast.

"How do you feel?" he asked immediately, looking at her bruised face. Anna took care to cover the damage up with powder, but she knew it was still noticeable.

"Much better," she answered truthfully enough. While still shaken by the events of last night – and out of her mind with fear that John would somehow learn of it and ended up hanged for the murder of Green – she felt more herself. Green attempted something beastly and, what's worse, brought to her mind the nasty debacle with her loathsome stepfather again, but she managed to fight him off and run away. He didn't win, didn't succeed. She realised fully that it was just the stroke of luck which brought down a witness – he would have chased her back to the kitchen otherwise and she knew he would have overpowered her in the end – but a stroke of luck or not, reminding herself that she successfully fended him off was giving her enough of peace of mind this morning to smile at John with what she dearly hoped was her usual sincerity.

"I'm sorry I was so terrible to you last night," she said carefully. "My head was splitting, and I felt awfully humiliated fainting in the kitchen like that. Good thing Nanny Lewis found me and put me to rights before you all came downstairs."

"You scared the wits out of me," said John, watching her intently. "Please don't do it again, I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to deal with it. You married a silly old man, you know."

His attempt at levity was rather poor, but Anna decided to accept it on face value and answered with determined brightness.

"I don't know about any old men, the only husband I remember marrying is you," she said teasingly and went to give him a quick kiss. "Although I am not so sure about the silly part. You do worry yourself silly, usually without any cause whatsoever."

"You fainting and hurting yourself is perfectly reasonable cause for worry," objected John. "Are you sure you don't want to stay home today? I'm sure Lady Mary would understand."

Anna shook her head, although she was awfully tempted to stay out of the big house until all the guests departed and Mr Green with them. But she was determined not to give John any reason to suspect that anything more than a bit of an illness was amiss about last night. She hoped Nanny Lewis would keep her word and her mouth shut.

"I feel perfectly alright today," she assured John again. "Or I will, after I had some tea in me. Could you pour me some?"

Matthew's study, Downton Abbey, April 16th, 1922

Matthew raised his eyebrows at Jack.

"So I am supposed to forgive him because he is better at cheating at cards than Sampson?" he drawled with amusement.

"Nobody asks for such a hefty payment as forgiveness," answered Jack airily. "He would settle on less frosty attitude and polite acknowledgement in social situations."

"He does not ask much, does he?"

"Oh, come, Matthew, he is quite a likeable chap if you give him a chance."

"I do like him," admitted Matthew reluctantly. "But I would have liked him much more if he wasn't doing his utmost to seduce my sister-in-law into a life in sin."

"He is working on that part," pointed Jack imploringly.

"And how has he earned you acting as his solicitor on this matter? Anyway, I would settle on him stopping his romantic pursuit of Edith until he is actually free again to do it openly, especially as at the moment it is completely unknown how long it will take him to divorce in Germany or if he is even to be successful at all. But I don't see him agreeing to that."

"No," admitted Jack reluctantly. "I don't see either him or Edith agreeing to that. They really seem to love each other, you know."

"I do know," said Matthew stubbornly. "And I know how extremely hard it is to deny it, when expressing your love is a wrong thing to do. But sometimes it's necessary."

Jack raised his eyes heavenward.

"Can we agree that this is what you find necessary? Not everybody has such strict view of the world as you."

"More the pity, the world would have been a better place if they did," muttered Matthew resentfully, but Jack thought he detected a hint of relenting and pounced on it.

"Alright, disapprove in private all you want, but can you agree to keep civil relationship with him despite it? You're managing it with me somehow."

Matthew looked at Jack sharply.

"It's not like you have a possibility to act on your feelings in any proper way. I know that if you had, you would have."

Jack sighed heavily.

"And cannot you see that it's exactly the same thing with Gregson? He wants to do the right thing with Edith. He wants to marry her and he is going to great lengths and expense to make it happen. If you can overlook my case due to what you deem special circumstances, why cannot you be so openminded about his?"

Matthew sighed heavily and gave in.

"Alright," he said. "I will give him my most polite goodbyes today and I won't raise an eyebrow if Edith invites him to any other occasion in the future. I will even convince Mary to do the same, but I'm making no promises about Cousin Violet, I'm not suicidal. I will discuss politics or fly fishing with him and do so graciously, as long as nobody expects me to express my joy about his relationship with Edith until the time they are officially and properly engaged. Good enough?"

Jack grinned at him.

"Perfectly good, Crawley. I knew you were hiding some sympathy somewhere under all those rigid principles of yours."

Matthew just glared at him and sighed.

The main entrance, Downton Abbey, April 16th, 1922

Rose walked Sir John out, loathe to see him go.

"The trouble is that I'm not really out and all that. But it should be possible," she said with determination. She would find a way to meet with him in London!

"I don't think people care about those rules, not like they used to," answered Sir John cheerfully, getting into the waiting car.

"Well, I don't," said Rose boldly, feeling daring and rebellious.

Mary was making her goodbyes to Caroline and Agnes at the next car.

"Do take care of yourself," she said, embracing Agnes lightly. "You really have a reason to."

Agnes smiled, kissing her slightly on the cheek in thanks. Mary used it as opportunity to whisper into her ear.

"And I still hope he will fall into that ditch."

Agnes chuckled, her eyes twinkling merrily.

"It's too early yet to send the invitations, but I am throwing a ball during the Season. Please say you come, Mary! You as well of course, Caroline."

"We don't plan to do much during this Season, due to Papa passing away, but I wouldn't miss your ball for the world. We will be there," assured her Mary, while Caroline muttered about being an afterthought, but also confirmed her attendance.

"Although we may end up sneaking out and getting scandalously drunk in some disreputable club afterwards," she added. Agnes' mouth made a small shocked "o" and Mary gave her friend a glare.

"Agnes can't drink now," she pointed. "And I don't see any reason to get drunk in some dinky little club when I can do it perfectly well in the Grantham House. I may even invite you, if you behave."

"Oh, but will you?" parried Caroline and got into the car, leaving Mary rolling her eyes after her.

She was soon approached by Tony Gillingham who was proving himself to be very hard to shake off.

"Mary, I wanted to say once again that I had a delightful stay here. Are you sure you won't accept that dinner with me?"

Mary did not roll her eyes again, but it was a close call.

"Very sure, Tony," she said only. "It was nice to meet you again, after all those years."

He gave her another soulful look and got into the car as well.

A little further away Matthew was determined to fulfil his promise to Jack.

"It was nice of you to help out with Sampson," he said to Gregson with just the trace of former frostiness remaining in his voice. "Seems Edith inviting you was a stroke of good luck for us."

Gregson smiled genially.

"I cannot pretend I didn't find besting a card sharp satisfying, even if I am normally happy to live those talents in the past. But I am glad I was of some use to you."

Matthew sighed.

"I still don't approve," he said bluntly. "But I do realise I cannot make choices for Edith, even if I think she is making a foolish one. And I wanted you to know that if your circumstances were different, I would have not objected in the slightest. I think you could be good for her."

"I will strive to be," answered Gregson seriously. "If it's the last thing I do."