Mary and Matthew's bedroom, Downton Abbey, April 18th, 1922
Mary looked at Anna with concern. Her maid was just as efficient as always, but she just... wasn't herself since her illness and fall on the day of the concert. The bruises on her face and the cut on her lip were still starkly visible.
"Since Lady Edith and Lady Rose are also going to London, Madge is coming as well, but I was thinking, wouldn't you want Mr Bates to come too? You and him could have the evening off."
Mary's suspicions grew, when Anna barely reacted to this proposal.
"Anna, are you alright?"
"Yes," said Anna curtly, walking away to pick up Mary's discarded clothes. "Will that be all, milady?"
"Yes, I suppose so," said Mary, frowning slightly.
"Very good, milady."
Mary looked at her maid leaving without another word or smile, her frown deepening.
Mary and Matthew's bedroom, Downton Abbey, April 18th, 1922
"Will you be still?" snapped Mary, half with amusement, half with exasperation.
Matthew was hugely entertained by his son's antics. At seven months of age he was quite mobile – and apparently found lying still while nursing entirely boring. What he did instead could be best described as very convoluted attempt at gymnastics, all while keeping his mouth firmly on his mother's nipple.
Mary's expression was nearly as entertaining as George's positions.
She must have noticed his amusement, because she glared at him.
"I wonder if you'd be laughing so much if he was hanging on your nipple while doing that!" she pointed out crossly and Matthew contritely admitted that she probably had a point.
"Come here, little chap," he said, reaching for his active son. "I think you tried your mama's patience enough."
George thankfully decided to release Mary and happily crawled into his papa's lap, where he promptly attempted to stand to reach for Matthew's nose – and even more promptly lost his shaky balance and fell on his bottom. He did not cry though, just looked up at Matthew with most adorably confused face.
This time it was Mary who laughed out loud.
"He will be running and climbing in no time," she noted proudly. "I won my first equestrian ribbon when I was four."
"You're so confident he will prefer a horse to a bicycle?" asked Matthew teasingly, pretending to steal George's nose and making him fall again from giggling at his papa's silliness. Mary raised her eyebrows.
"Of course," she said with mock haughtiness. "He is the Viscount Downton."
"Who, I remind you, loves to play in mud," pointed out Matthew, shuddering slightly. Ever since the war, he couldn't abide mud. He assumed he just had enough of it for the lifetime.
"We have some time to teach him to be more discerning," said Mary, reaching to tousle George's wispy hair. "He seems to be getting more and more blond. He is going to be your miniature if it continues."
"I would say 'poor chap', but since my looks somehow managed to attract as beautiful woman as you, maybe I should congratulate him on his great luck instead."
"Oh, you are so sure it was your looks which attracted me?" Mary's eyebrows rose again in familiar and beloved mocking expression. Matthew grinned at her smugly.
"Are you going to deny it? Something did, and I doubt it was my sophistication since you denied I had any from the very beginning."
Mary rolled her eyes.
"And with a very good cause! You were fighting even against needing a valet!"
Matthew looked at her suggestively.
"I think I proved to you over the course of our marriage that I am perfectly able to both dress and undress myself."
"It doesn't mean that you should!" parried Mary immediately. "But anyway, I wanted to talk with you about your valet."
"Bates? What about?"
"Could you take him with you to London when we go?"
"Why? Joking aside, I can manage without him for one night. I assume you will help me to get undressed if I find myself in need of it."
Mary looked at him solemnly, ignoring his joke.
"I want to give him and Anna some proper time off in the city. She hasn't been well since her fall and I think she could use it."
Matthew sighed in resignation but nodded. Then, thinking over his wife's words, brightened up significantly.
"If we are going to give them both time off, that means you will need my help to undress, won't you?"
Mary smiled seductively.
"I very well might."
Then they both winced at the ear shattering squeal between them. George could get really loud when he objected to his parents' lack of attention.
Matthew's study, Downton Abbey, April 19th, 1922
"Cora? Are you coming as well? I thought Mary has already settled all the details?"
Cora sat more comfortably in Matthew's chair and twirled the phone's cable around her finger.
"No, no, I'm staying here with the children. But I wanted to talk with you."
"Well, that's a first," drawled Rosamund pointedly, but Cora could say that she got her curious.
"I was thinking that it would be good if you had a little dinner while they are all with you," she said airily.
"For Edith's sake, I presume?" asked Rosamund astutely. "Mama did tell me about her affaire passionnée. Is there somebody you find likely to distract her?
"Maybe. We had Viscount Gillingham here for the house party and he did express a fervent wish to return at the nearest opportunity. I hardly think it was just the Yorkshire scenery which impressed him so."
"It would be nice to have Edith established as Viscountess of Gillingham," hummed Rosamund appreciatively. "I will see what I can do. Anyone else I should consider? We don't want to be too obvious."
"Rose seemed quite taken with the young Sir John Bullock. We won't let her get engaged before her debut, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to explore the possibilities a bit ahead of that."
"I agree," answered Rosamund acerbically. "And the sooner you can get her married, the better, in my opinion. This girl is a walking trouble just waiting to happen."
Cora sighed.
"I really start to understand Susan's concerns better now, if I'm being perfectly honest. She is a bit wild. But such a darling girl, really, that I can never stay angry with her for long."
"Let's hope her future husband shares your inability," commented Rosamund dryly. "Anything else I should take into consideration when planning this impromptu dinner party?"
"Well, Tom is coming with Mary and Matthew after all, I don't know if Mary already told you. Will you be alright with it?"
"I don't mind if he wants to be included, he will round up the table. Mary and Matthew, Edith and Viscount Gillingham, Rose with Sir John – I may very well use somebody to talk to."
"Thank you," said Cora feelingly, very satisfied with herself for setting it up. She knew nothing would probably come of it, but she definitely wouldn't mind if it did. Lord Gillingham did look awfully keen. She just hoped Edith wouldn't prove too stubborn. Then again, the only matter she had ever been stubborn in her life was marrying Sir Anthony Strallan, so maybe she would be cooperative when a chance to marry another gentleman came around. She had always been much more obedient than Mary.
Dining room, Downton Abbey, April 19th, 1922
Isobel and Violet were invited for dinner ahead of all the younger absconding for London the next morning, so both Matthew and Tom made the concession of wearing white tie. With the Dowager absent, they were usually perfectly content with less formal, and much less uncomfortable, dinner jackets and black tie.
"Are many people arguing that we are encouraging a nation of hypochondriacs, if people are allowed to rush to a doctor at every twinge?" asked Matthew teasingly, but with genuine interest in his mother's latest project.
"Of course they are, but I think it encourages people to look after themselves and not become a burden."
"So you mean to help?" asked Matthew with a warm smile. It was a rhetorical question, really. Of course Mother would help. She couldn't have stopped herself from doing so.
"A little. Just to provide some free labour. No more than that."
Which he expertly translated to Mother spending countless hours at the out-clinic, in addition to all the other duties she assigned to herself.
Meanwhile, Cora was assuring Rose that Rosamund was really looking forward to seeing her. Matthew's mouth twitched at the memory of Lady Rosamund's face at the state they had found Rose in at that ghastly nightclub. He rather suspected that scepticism plainly visible on Rose's face was not unfounded.
"Poor Aunt Rosamund. We use her like an hotel," noted Edith, immediately earning herself a disapproving look from Mary.
"She enjoys it. It gives her a surrogate real life."
"What do you think, Tom? Do you think she minds?"
Tom didn't answer. He appeared not to even hear Edith's question.
"Tom?" asked Mary with a worried frown, making him startle.
"I'm sorry. What were you saying?"
"I'd far rather know what you were thinking," said Mary, her frown deepening. Tom only gave an embarrassed smile and reached for his glass.
Mary and Matthew exchanged concerned looks. It was more and more obvious that something was seriously wrong with Tom. Matthew decided to try to get the truth out of him during their stay in London, and judging from his wife's determined expression, she was most likely making the exact same resolution herself.
Train from York to London, 1st class, April 20th, 1922
They made rather boisterous group while boarding the London train after switching from the Ripon one in York. Mary had never attended a proper school, but she did suspect the five of them did feel a bit like a bunch of schoolchildren going for vacation, even if the purpose of the journey for her, Matthew and Tom was to negotiate with the tax authorities. But without anyone from the older generation travelling with them they all did feel strangely unchaperoned and free. Even Tom, who had been uncharacteristically morose for weeks, cheered up now and was exchanging jokes with Matthew and Rose, the latter of course practically vibrating with excitement at going to London. The only reason Mary did not get a headache at the thought was her determination to mercilessly drop any responsibility for managing Rose to Aunt Rosamund as soon as they arrived under her roof.
Drawing room, Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, April 20th, 1922
Marry hurried into the drawing room, pulling on her gloves.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, but Anna couldn't find – Oh."
The assembled dinner party, which she expected to be family only, included to her surprise Sir John Bullock and Tony Gillingham. A quick look at Edith's disgruntled face and Aunt Rosamund's satisfied one nearly made her roll her eyes. Of course. Mama and Aunt Rosamund were at it again.
Seeing Tony's intense gaze upon her she suspected that this time they miscalculated very badly though.
"I hope I'm a surprise and not a shock," said Tony in a low voice.
"Well, you're certainly unexpected," said Mary, trying to keep her displeasure in check and looking for Matthew's reaction. He was talking with Tom in the opposite corner and didn't seem to pay attention to the very much unwelcome intimacy of Tony's gaze at her.
"I thought I'd get up a small party, just an informal one," said Rosamund, still with a face of a cat who got the canary. "You remember Sir John Bullock?"
"He and Lord Gillingham have just been staying with us," answered Mary coolly and noticed Edith mirroring her frosty expression. Who would have thought she would end up commiserating with her sister!
"Cora said it had been a success," said Rosamund brightly.
"How clever of both of you to be free at such short notice," said Rose happily, sending Sir John a flirtatious gaze.
"They brought your message to my club. I thought I had an evening of cards and whisky ahead, so it was a welcome change of plan," answered Sir John, sending her an appreciative look of his own, which made Rose practically vibrate in place with excitement. Mary valiantly restrained herself from another eyeroll and addressed Tony.
"And what about you?"
"Well, I cancelled what I was supposed to be doing," he answered, sending her another significant look.
"I hope Miss Lane Fox didn't mind," said Mary pointedly.
"Don't punish me for wanting to see you again," parried Tony in a passionate whisper, making Mary's eyebrows shoot up in shock. How dared he?!
"John's got a marvellous idea for later on, haven't you?" exclaimed Rose.
"After dinner, I thought I could take you all to hear the new band at the Lotus Club. If you'll let me?"
Rose immediately turned towards Matthew, dragging his attention away from Tom.
"You and Mary can be my chaperones, so what could be more proper?"
Matthew looked at Mary with amusement.
"What do you think, Mary? Will we give her another chance to prove that we can take her dancing without a disaster of some kind occurring?" he quipped, ignoring Rose's offended scoff.
"It isn't too jazzy, Lady Rosamund. Just a club with a good dance band," assured Sir John, visibly keen on the idea of taking Rose dancing.
"We can keep the young in order," joined Tony with a considerate look at Mary. "That's, if you like the sound of it."
"Please say yes, Mary, do. It's such eons since we've had any fun," pleaded Rose, making Mary finally roll her eyes. They just had a house party with a concert and dancing to the Victrola. And what about Mary and Matthew taking Rose to that damn dance hall?
"What about you, Edith? Tom?
"I'll stay here with Lady Rosamund," said Tom immediately.
"Oh, I was thinking I might go, too," countered Aunt Rosamund with a twinkle in her eyes.
"That settles it. Tom can come as Aunt Rosamund's partner," said Rose authoritatively. "Since Tony will take Edith, we will all have partners! Isn't it neat?"
Mary nearly burst out laughing at twin expressions of dismay at Edith's and Tony's faces and, with pointed satisfaction, took Matthew's offered arm to walk with him to the dining room.
The Lotus Club, 69 Brook Street, Mayfair, London, April 20th, 1922
"Well, it certainly isn't The Dansant," observed Mary dryly walking up the marble staircase of the Lotus Club.
Matthew chuckled.
"That it isn't," he agreed easily. "And thank God, Sir John was telling the truth and it's nothing like the club we needed to drag Rose out of last time either. This actually looks like fun, doesn't it?"
Mary couldn't resist smiling at his boyish exuberance.
"Well, it is in Mayfair," she pointed out dryly. Matthew laughed.
"Ah yes, the address is snobbish enough that you can allow yourself some open enjoyment," he teased fondly. "But I will remind you that you did admit to having fun at the dance hall as well, even if you now deny it."
"The company was good enough to make up for the deficits of the venue," allowed Mary, sending him a sultry look, which she was very pleased to note had a visible effect on her husband's expression.
Their current venue was definitely not a dimly lit, disreputable night club, but a very posh place. As their company of eight ascended the stairs, they could already hear lively jazz music from the main room, soon followed by applause. The main room was bright and open, filled with people in glamorous evening wear and sparkling jewellery.
Sir John called out to a waiter as soon as they reached their table.
"Some more champagne over here!"
Mary exchanged slightly alarmed look with Matthew and said firmly that she didn't need any more.
"Nonsense. How can we keep going if we're not properly fuelled?" quarrelled Sir John, his speech slightly slurred.
"I can keep going," said Tony with a smile and hold his hand out to Mary, inviting her to dance.
"I'm afraid I already promised the first dance to my husband," said Mary with her brightest smile and dragged Matthew to the dance floor, leaving Tony no choice but to dance with Edith instead.
The dance was a slower number, Mary thought she recognised it as "April Showers" Rose was so obsessed about that she played the record constantly. She settled in Matthew's arms with a contented sigh.
"Lord Gillingham seems rather keen on you," noted Matthew with amusement. Mary glared at him.
"And I noticed that you're not doing anything to put him off," she accused.
"Why do I suspect that if I did, you would only get annoyed with me for interfering and assuming you're unable to put him off yourself?" countered Matthew, making Mary scoff. He might have a point, but she wasn't going to admit it.
"But if he is really bothering you, just let me know. I wouldn't object to putting him in his place if he becomes a nuisance," said Matthew more seriously.
"So far he has been a perfect gentleman," said Mary with a sigh. "And yes, I can handle him, but thank you for offering. I may need it if he doesn't get a hint soon."
Matthew squeezed her hand comfortingly and whirled her deftly around the dance floor.
"I'm afraid Sir John's evening of cards and whisky had already begun when he got your aunt's invitation," he pointed out, observing the man dancing with Rose, who was looking less enamoured by the minute.
"She really has the worst taste in men, doesn't she?" asked Mary dryly, making him laugh in agreement.
xxx
Meanwhile, Edith was dancing with Tony Gillingham. Her irritation at her predicament was lessened somehow by the fact that he was a very good dancer. She still mourned the fact that Michael had some prior commitment and couldn't come to her rescue until tomorrow.
"I hope you don't mind me ambushing you like this," said Tony sincerely and Edith acknowledged with a sigh that Mama and Aunt Rosamund had a good taste. If only she wasn't madly in love with Michael and Tony clearly more interested in her married sister!
"It was Mama and Aunt Rosamund who ambushed me," she said with a shrug than looked at him sharply. "And anyway, it looks to me that it is not me you would prefer to ambush."
Tony reddened slightly.
"My intentions are perfectly honourable!" he protested weakly, making Edith raise her eyebrows in incredulity.
"And what can they be, considering she is married? Very happily, I may add."
Tony sighed mournfully.
"I know nothing can come out of it," he admitted. "But I cannot deny that I admire your sister greatly and would love to just spend some time in her company."
Edith rolled her eyes.
"Just be careful you don't overdo it. If Mary doesn't eviscerate you, Matthew might," she warned, thinking of certain memorable Christmas and broken vases.
"I would never do anything to dishonour Mary," swore Tony and Edith could only sigh. She didn't see any way for it to end well, but thankfully it was not really her problem.
xxx
Mary managed to successfully avoid Tony for another song by making Tom dance with her instead.
"What's the matter? You've been in a glump all day. Longer, really."
"If I told you, you'd despise me," answered Tom, clearly miserable.
Mary startled. An echo of her own tortured voice swam through her head.
"It may surprise you to hear that I said that to someone once. But I did confess in the end and it made things a lot better," she said gently.
"Well, I couldn't say it. Not to you," said Tom, the guilt and shame plain on his face pulling at her heart.
"Then find someone you can tell. It will help more than you know."
He nodded, but she was not sure if her words managed to convince him.
xxx
The band has begun another song – a tango. Matthew offered Mary his hand.
"What about it?" he asked with a smile. She took his hand, feeling a shiver of anticipation. Waltzing with Matthew was a heavenly experience. This was... a different matter altogether. They moved alternately slowly and fast; their bodies pressed sinfully together; their movements sensuous. Mary could hardly believe that they were allowed to touch themselves like that in public, in a respectable club too; but she was taking full advantage of it. Soon nothing existed to her besides the music, the dance and Matthew's body against hers. She yearned to be able to kiss him and she could see growing desire in his darkening eyes.
Then a commotion among the other dancers pulled her attention away from her husband.
"Oh, for heavens' sake!" swore Mary, looking at Sir John abandoning Rose in the middle of a dance floor and the black bandleader coming to her rescue.
Matthew dropped his head briefly on her shoulder, trying to stifle his laughter.
"Trust Rose!" he said, clearly exasperated.
Seeing that Tom was sent to fetch their troublesome charge they finished their dance, but the mood was definitely broken, leaving Mary seething with anger.
"Where's John?" Rose was asking when they reached their table.
"I should think he's gone home," answered Tony, not looking particularly perturbed about Sir John's fate. To be honest, nobody in the group cared.
"Well, have we all had enough?" asked Rosamund, itching to take Rose away from the newest trouble she could sense brewing as the result of this debacle.
"I hope he paid the bill before he left. Honestly, if it hadn't have been for Mr Ross -"
Mary shared exasperated look with her aunt. Yes, she could sense it too.
"You looked as if you were having quite an adventure with your gallant band leader," said Rosamund censoriously.
"He was terribly nice! And John had made me look like such a fool!" Rose shuddered at the memory of her humiliation.
"Does every time you go out dancing ends up in disaster of some kind?" asked Matthew incredulously, mouth twitching in amusement.
"What did I tell you about going dancing with Rose?" asked Mary gloomily. She knew she was being rather unfair this time, but she hardly cared. She had been so enjoying herself until then!
Rose threw them an injured look, but Matthew barely noticed, studying Mary thoughtfully.
"How about they all go and we stay a bit longer?" he asked suddenly. Mary felt herself brightening up.
"We cannot stay very long," she warned with a sigh. "We have the meeting with the tax authorities in the morning and we should prepare for it. But I guess a little bit longer won't hurt."
"No," said Matthew in a low voice, leading her back towards the dance floor. "A little bit longer won't hurt at all."
Guest bedroom, Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, April 21st, 1922
As they were trying to climb the staircase of Aunt Rosamund's house quietly, shushing each other and giggling like a pair of naughty teenagers, half-drunk on champagne, Mary reflected that they made very poor picture of the Earl and Countess of Grantham. It struck her as so funny that it sent her falling against Matthew, trying to supress another round of giggles.
"Shhhh!" shushed her Matthew in an exaggerated way of a person who had a lot of fun during the night and was nowhere near sober as the result. Which of course just made Mary giggle harder.
They stumbled together into their assigned bedroom, Mary falling against the door after she locked it, Matthew falling against her, kissing her headily.
"I wanted to do it the whole night," he murmured between the kisses. "You, Lady Grantham, are absolutely maddening in that dress."
"Should I take it off, then?" asked Mary sultrily, her eyes closing as Matthew's mouth travelled from her mouth to her neck.
"Please, do," groaned Matthew, perfectly willing to help her with that task. "Although I don't think it will make you any less maddening."
Impatient hands reached for both their clothing, suddenly annoyingly in their way, headless of delicate fabric or expensive jewellery. Hungry mouths could barely stand being momentarily separated from each other or from the growing expanse of naked skin. They were barely aware that there was a bed somewhere in this room, but they hardly cared. At this moment, all that seemed to exist, all that seemed to matter, were each other.
The Ritz, Piccadilly, London, April 21st, 1922
It was a triumphant trio sitting down to lunch at the Ritz.
"Whatever my opinion about Tony Gillingham, thank God for his visit and his good advice," said Matthew, reaching for his champagne glass. He noted distractedly that champagne seemed to dominate this trip. Then he remembered what champagne led to last night – or more accurately, this morning – and felt himself blushing at the vision his brain helpfully provided.
"He did prove himself useful on this occasion," admitted Mary reluctantly. "I honestly did not expect we would be able to negotiate such a good deal with the tax authorities. The instalment plan is quite generous."
"Even with the annual payments, Downton should be in the black pretty soon," agreed Tom. "And I think it's mostly thanks to you, Mary. You are a damn good negotiator. You didn't give them an inch, but they were too charmed to notice."
Matthew nodded emphatically before Mary could dismiss Tom's compliments.
"Tom is right," he said firmly. "You would have made a formidable lawyer, you know. If you ever found yourself in need of a profession, I would strongly advise pursuing legal career."
Mary sent him a caustic look.
"Let's concentrate on keeping the estate afloat so the matters are never so dire, alright?"
But Matthew could see a satisfied smile hovering at her lips and he couldn't be prouder of her – or happier that she was finally realising just how competent and talented she was.
Nursery, Downton Abbey, April 21st, 1922
"Have you missed Papa?" asked Matthew, tickling George's chin and making him giggle. "Because I missed you terribly and I know your mama did too. She will be here in a moment – or at least after she changes out of her travelling clothes, which never takes just a moment – but she will be here nonetheless."
"Matthew," said Tom hesitantly after he put Sybbie down and let her abscond in search of a toy she wanted to show him. "Could we talk for a bit?"
"Sure," answered Matthew, confused by Tom's careful approach. "What do you have in mind?"
"Privately," said Tom. "It's not a matter to be discussed in the nursery."
Matthew frowned in concern but nodded.
"We can go to my study as soon as Mary comes or Nanny Lewis returns with the children's tea, whatever comes sooner."
Tom nodded gratefully, but with a look of a man preparing himself for the gallows.
Matthew's Study, Downton Abbey, April 21st, 1922
When the war finished, Matthew cynically and wearily assumed that he would hardly be shocked by anything else in his life.
He was wrong, of course.
He was shocked when he learnt Reggie Swire not only had literal millions, but he also willed them to him, despite everything. He was shocked when Robert managed to somehow lose his millions in one investment. He was shocked when Mary confessed her long kept secret to him and again when she threatened to cancel the wedding. He was shocked, on the whole different level, when he found Robert dead and realised he was the bloody earl now, however little he wanted it.
And now he was shocked by Tom's tortured confession.
"I've known it has been difficult for you to adjust to the life here, especially after everything," he said, after he regained power of speech. "But I have not realised that you were so lonely. I'm sorry that we failed you so."
Tom raised his wild eyes at him from their hiding place in his hands.
"It's hardly your fault! You couldn't be more welcoming or understanding – I just don't fit here, not really. I never did. Maybe if Sybil..." his voice trailed off, his head falling into his hands again.
Matthew looked at him with compassion. He could not imagine how he would fare if he had to navigate Downton after losing Mary in such a horrifying way.
"Let's focus on more immediate issue first," he said, his brain searching for something tangible he could help Tom with. "What do you want to do about Edna?"
"I don't know!" Tom groaned into his hands. "I cannot marry her, there is simply no way I could force myself to do it. But what if I did get her with child?"
Matthew put his face on his hand, considering the details of Tom's tale.
"She came to your room, didn't she?"
Tom nodded, still not raising his head.
"When you were drunk out of your mind?"
"Yes," admitted Tom shamefully. "I drunk half a container of whisky by myself in the library and that was on top of the cocktails and the huge glass of whisky she had handed me earlier."
"She handed you whisky?" asked Matthew sharply.
Tom finally looked at him.
"Yes. But I didn't have to drink it."
"But let me get it straight. Edna not only knew you were drunk; she actively encouraged you to drink more, and then she came to your room at night – without the slightest invitation – and jumped into your bed?"
"I didn't kick her out when she was there though," pointed out Tom dejectedly.
"No, you didn't," agreed Matthew. "But considering everything, you were hardly the instigator of the whole mess."
"I encouraged her crush on me."
"You made a mistake out of loneliness. But the current situation is not only your fault. And if she is pregnant..." Matthew paused. His sense of what is right and honourable was pulling him in two very opposite directions. Of course it wasn't right to abandon one's child and the woman one conceived it with, when there was a possibility of marriage. And yet everything in him rebelled against advising it to Tom in those circumstances. "Tom, the last thing which can be said is that you seduced her. She instigated it, in a way which suggests it was a very deliberate action, not a result of momentary passion. I would venture a guess that she wanted to get with child, so she could force you into marriage."
Tom looked at him with misery and nodded.
"I don't want to think so badly of her," he said. "But the thought did cross my mind."
"You cannot marry her," said Matthew firmly. "Not like this. If she turns out to be with child, well, you will have to support it, make sure it is not raised in poverty – but you cannot marry her."
"It will be a scandal though. It will prove beyond any doubt that I'm a cad," said Tom miserably.
"It won't be easy," admitted Matthew reluctantly. "But I will stand behind you in this and I am sure Mary will as well."
Tom blanched.
"I cannot tell Mary. Or Edith, or Cora. How could I confess to betraying the memory of Sybil in that way?"
"They would understand better than you think," said Matthew wit assurance. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We do not know if she is pregnant yet."
Tom flopped against the armchair with a groan.
"And we won't know for weeks! How am I supposed to act with her around, sneaking out of shadows and getting into my bedroom, pressuring me to promise marriage to her?"
"She cannot stay here," said Matthew firmly. "The way she took advantage of you... I cannot keep her in my employment. She needs to go, whatever happens later."
"She will protest," Tom shook his head. "She won't go quietly."
"You said that Mrs Hughes managed to send her away once before. Maybe you should go to her again and explain the situation? She might know better than us how to achieve it discretely."
Tom nodded reluctantly.
"I am ashamed to tell her all of it," he said. "But you are right. She knows enough not to be surprised, I think, and she would have to be involved in dismissing Edna anyway."
"Then do that now," urged Matthew. "But Tom, when we are done with this mess – and we will, one way or another – then we have to talk what can be done to help you. Because I cannot deal with seeing my brother and best friend so miserable."
Michael Gregson's flat, London, April 21st, 1922
"Can you believe it?" asked Edith with annoyance. "They ambushed me with that awful Tony Gillingham at my aunt's dinner table, all in hope I will be so dazzled I will just abandon you. And then he ogled my sister the whole night, straight under her husband nose!"
"Are you more annoyed at this unfortunate attempt at matchmaking or at the fact than your intended suitor preferred your married sister over you? Which just shows that he is either blind or an idiot, in my opinion," asked Michael, handing her a drink.
"Both," admitted Edith freely, taking a sip of her cocktail. "I hated that they were trying to manipulate me like that, but if they did, they could at least pick someone who for once would not prefer Mary over me. Although I admit it might be an impossible task."
"I don't understand it," said Michael musingly, sitting next to her on the sofa. "Your sister is a beautiful woman, it's true – but so are you and you are so much nicer than her."
"That I am," answered Edith with a self-deprecating shrug. "But not many men ever noticed or cared. The only one who did ended up jilting me at the altar."
"Another blind fool then, apparently," said Michael matter-of-factly, kissing her hand. Edith blushed.
"Will you miss me?" he asked.
"Of course," she sighed. "Is it really only a week until you leave?"
"Mm."
"You haven't told me if there's anything I can do to keep things running whilst you're in Munich?"
"Well, as a matter of fact I've got something I want you to sign. It will give you some authority over my affairs," he walked over to his desk. "Come here."
He laid out a document for her. She sat down and looked over it.
"What'll you do when you get there?"
"I thought I'd write a novel. Or try to. I always fancied myself a novelist and never had the time. Now I've got nothing but."
Edith signed the paper.
"How long is it going to take?"
"I'm not sure. I'll set the wheels in motion when I arrive and we'll stop when and if we hit a rock. But the lawyers are quite optimistic."
"I thought lawyers were never optimistic," Edith said, rising from the desk.
"That's why it's a good sign."
"Are we going out tonight? The new band at the Lotus Club is really quite good.
"Hm. Well, no, I hadn't planned on going anywhere," he leaned against the side of the desk. Edith noticed they were suddenly very close together.
"No?" she asked breathlessly.
"No."
They kissed.
"Michael, I..." started Edith hesitantly.
"Oh, my darling," said Michael only and they were kissing passionately again.
Library, Downton Abbey, April 21st, 1922
"What should we drink to?" asked Matthew, handing Tom his glass. He was delighted to see him raise his eyebrow and his glass in cocky salute.
"To triumph of truth over scheming?"
"And to prescient knowledge of human nature demonstrated by Mrs Hughes, apparently," grinned Matthew in response.
"Amen to that," said Tom fervently, taking a generous sip from his glass.
Matthew sat on one of the red sofas and looked at him seriously.
"Tom, I've been thinking a lot about what you said – about how you don't fit and how out of place you feel here – and I was wondering... why did you agree to stay at the Abbey? I thought you were getting ready to move into the agent's house when Jarvis left it?"
Tom sighed, relaxing against the couch.
"I was, but then Cora got to me with talking how much better for Sybbie it would be if we stayed. She said that children should be brought up in families..."
Matthew looked at him incredulously.
"But you were going to live in the village, not on the other side of an ocean."
Tom shrugged.
"It seemed reasonable in the end. It was better for Sybbie to be here, surrounded by loving family and attentive servants than being watched by some girl from the village while I was at work. And now there is George as well, so soon she is going to have a playmate, practically like a brother..."
Matthew took a deep breath and looked at him seriously.
"But you are miserable. You feel at best as a guest in this house, at worst like an impostor. You do not feel like it's your house or that you have any independence here or your own identity," he sighed, seeing Tom's stunned expression. "Believe me, I know how it is. For the longest time, I felt like this as well. Sometimes I still do, but it gotten much better."
Tom nodded slowly in acknowledgement.
"So what are you suggesting? I should move out?"
"Yes," said Matthew firmly. "Take the agent house, it remains vacant and it is a very nice place. Bring Sybbie here to the nursery and George while you're working and take her home with you every evening. She will have the care and company she is used to and you will have a life independent of Downton and a house you can invite whoever you want to without parading them in front of Carson. What do you think?"
Tom swallowed.
"You really think it would work for Sybbie? And you wouldn't mind her being dropped off like that?"
"I really do and of course I wouldn't mind," said Matthew sincerely. "And I freely admit to being a bit jealous of the prospect. A manor full of servants is hardly my idea of a cosy home."
Tom raised his eyes heavenward.
"Isn't that the truth!" he said feelingly. "Thank you, Matthew. For everything, but mostly for being the best friend or brother a fellow could wish for."
"So you will do it?" asked Matthew with a grin.
"Yes," said Tom, smiling finally as well. He looked like a huge load got lifted from his shoulders. "I will check the agent's house tomorrow and see how quickly I can move there. But what am I going to say to Cora?"
"Leave Cora to me," sighed Matthew. "She means well, but she can be amazingly blind about some things."
Guest bedroom, Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, April 22nd, 1922
Edith, on stockinged feet, carrying her shoes, was tip-toeing up the stairs. She was so intent on keeping quiet that she didn't notice the maid with a stack of linens observing her disapprovingly.
She got into her bedroom and flopped down on the bed, smiling in complete disbelief.
She, Lady Edith Crawley, just made love for the very first time and definitely out of wedlock. And it felt amazing.
Only now Edith realised that she never had felt passion until she met Michael. She had an awful, desperate crush on Patrick and kept dreaming about him embracing her or kissing her with those beautifully shaped lips of his – but it was all very innocent, a first love of a very young girl. Then it was Sir Anthony who was so kind to her and found her lovely and she loved him so much in turn for that – but while she was determined to marry him and fully believed they were going to be so very happy together, she paid little attention to that side of things. Anthony and her shared some affectionate kisses, which delighted her very much – it felt so wonderful to be desired! - but did not ignite a fire in her. She hadn't even known she had a fire to ignite.
Well, now she knew. Oh, she knew!
Edith giggled to herself in perfect happiness, stifling it with her hands to keep quiet in the stillness of the early morning.
Library, Downton Abbey, April 22nd, 1922
When Matthew entered the library with Tom after breakfast, he found Thomas waiting for him.
"May I have a word, your lordship?"
"Yes, Barrow?"
"If Miss Braithwaite is not coming back, I wondered if her replacement had been decided on."
"Not yet," answered Matthew, startled at the speed with which the news travelled downstairs. Edna was dismissed just yesterday!
"Only I have a candidate I'd like to put forward, who I know very well and is more than qualified."
"You must discuss it with her ladyship, but I've no objection," answered Matthew easily. If Barrow could ensure that Cora would not be without a maid again for weeks, it would definitely make things easier. He didn't want to force Anna to pull double duty.
"She's a little older than Miss Braithwaite," said Thomas carefully, making Tom snort slightly.
"Well, that won't hurt," he said drily, exchanging understanding look with Matthew.
Further conversation was interrupted by Mary, entering in search of Tom.
"Are you ready?" she asked impatiently.
Tom nodded.
"Where are you going?" asked Matthew with interest, trying to remember if they discussed it before, but finding that drama of yesterday obscured any mention of more mundane estate business in his head.
"York. For estimates to re-equip the sawmill," answered Mary with a quick goodbye kiss to his cheek. He caught her hand to stop her and kissed her quickly on her lips.
"Drive carefully," he said to their retreating backs. Then he walked with a sigh to his study, intent on updating their budget forecast with the details of the negotiated tax deal.
Drawing room, Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, April 22nd, 1922
As soon as the footman opened the door to admit Edith to her aunt's drawing room, she could tell something was amiss. The atmosphere was uncharacteristically frosty and her aunt's usually friendly face positively severe.
"There you are. Well, you don't look too bad. I thought you might be a little the worse for wear."
"Why should I be?" asked Edith, even though she had the sinking feeling that playing innocent was going to get her nowhere. She sat down on a settee just as Aunt Rosamund turned to face her.
"After only two hours' sleep. My maid saw you come in. Aren't you going to tell me what kept you out until six in the morning?"
"Well, we..." she laughed nervously, embarrassed.
"Please don't say you were talking and you lost all track of time. Quite apart from the morality - or lack of it in this situation – you do realise you are taking a great risk?" asked Aunt Rosamund sharply. "You're trusting this man with your name and your reputation."
"He wants to marry me. Of course I trust him!" exclaimed Edith passionately.
"As you trusted Sir Anthony Strallan?" asked Aunt Rosamund pointedly. "Besides, he cannot marry you yet. Maybe never, if that scheme of his doesn't work. And where will you be then?"
"That was rather unkind," said Edith, feeling deeply hurt at the reminder of her failed wedding. "Are you going to tell Mama?"
"No. You're a grown woman and I'm not a spy. But you're gambling with your future, my dear. Be under no illusions. A lot may be changing, but some things will stay the same."
"I'm not a bit sorry," said Edith, jutting out her chin in a challenge.
She wasn't. Last night was more beautiful than she ever possibly imagined.
"No, you don't look sorry. But you may find yourself feeling very sorry later," snapped Aunt Rosamund and left the room abruptly.
Edith sighed, but then straightened up stubbornly. She was not sorry. Not at all.