A/N: Sickness bug has cleared! Thanks for the reviews and support. I've decided I'm in the mood to update. Enjoy!

Chapter Four

The warmth of May was a welcome surprise for Mary as she stepped outside the house to partake in her first walk since contracting Spanish flu. She walked across the grass, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the heat of sunshine hitting her exposed neck and then opened her eyes to see Matthew waiting for her in the trees. She smiled weakly, unsure of how to greet him or what she could say to him. She had written that letter to him because she had been scared that she would die and since she had recovered, she knew that she had to move on with Sir Richard.

"Good morning." Matthew greeted with a smile.

"Good morning. It certainly is a nice one." Mary replied.

The two fell into step together as they walked through the grounds, sticking to the shade of the trees.

"Matthew…why did you want me to delay Carlisle?" Mary asked, seeing no point in making small talk.

"Lavinia is leaving tomorrow, and she has released me from our engagement." Matthew replied quietly.

Her heart skipped a beat. Lavinia had broken the engagement. Surely, she must be dreaming.

"Oh…I'm sorry…" Mary apologised.

"For the past two weeks I have been blaming myself for it. I've broken her heart for many reasons and it's not the person I am. I intended to marry Lavinia because she sacrificed her life for me when we thought I would be an invalid."

Mary nodded. She knew that Matthew would honour his promise to Lavinia, she had never doubted that. She just wanted him to be happy and Lavinia could have made him happy. She was resolved to marry Carlisle after he had bought her scandal to keep it out of the papers, if anything she had no choice in the matter.

"Did Lavinia explain why she broke your engagement?" Mary asked.

"She saw us, Mary. She said that whilst she knew that I loved her, I had never looked at her the way I looked at you that night. That I had never kissed her the way I had kissed you that night." Matthew replied.

"I must apologise to Lavinia before she leaves-"

"She isn't angry with either of us, Mary. She just wants me to be happy."

"Still, I feel I ought to. For my part, I'm sorry that I've ruined things for you." Mary said, looking at him.

They stopped behind a large oak tree, Matthew's blue eye ablaze with something that Mary hadn't seen in a long time. It made her heart beat faster, a fluttering formed in the pit of her stomach. As she met his gaze, she found herself frozen to the spot she stood on. It was as if she was unable to move because he was the force that kept her grounded.

"You haven't ruined things for me, Mary," Matthew whispered, stepping closer to her, "It was I who told you that I wanted to brush off Lavinia and it was I who leaned in and kissed you first."

"I am to blame just as much as you. It was as if I temporarily forgot we were engaged to other people."

Her confession only made him take a deep breath and play with a button on his coat. Mary's eyes narrowed, was Matthew nervous about something?

"Mary…I read your letter…what reason couldn't you trust me with all that time ago?" Matthew asked delicately.

Her eyes widened. He'd read the letter then. And now he was asking why she had hesitated about accepting his marriage proposal all those years ago. At the time, she had thought that his position mattered whilst her mother was pregnant with the son she had lost. Now she knew that didn't matter but what did matter was the Pamuk situation.

"Matthew…I wrote you that letter thinking I was going to die…" Mary mumbled.

"But you didn't. And now I'm free and trying to address the awkwardness we've lived each time we've seen each other over the last five years." Matthew said.

"Awkwardness? I would hardly call it that." Mary insisted.

"Very well. What term would you prefer I use? The longing we've both felt but tried to squash?" Matthew asked.

Longing. Oh, she had definitely longed for him. She couldn't deny that.

"I-I told you how I felt in that letter." Mary insisted.

"But I need to hear you say it, Mary." Matthew pleaded.

Mary gulped, her heart quickening. There was merely a short distance between them now, just like there had been two weeks ago when they had kissed.

"I can't do this." Mary sighed, trying to turn.

She felt his hand on her upper arm, preventing her from escaping.

"Matthew…" Mary whispered.

"Say it, Mary, please my darling…"

"I love you, Matthew. How could I not?" Mary cried.

Matthew smiled, cupping her cheek in her hand.

"I love you, Mary. I don't think I could ever love anyone as much as I love you." He confessed.

Mary felt a tear drip down her cheek, which he caught with his thumb and brushed her skin softly. They were silent for a while, neither sure how long as they stood under the oak tree. Mary closed her eyes, leaning her head into his hand as she enjoyed the warmth of his skin on hers. How she had missed his touch.

"Mary…you don't have to marry Carlisle." Matthew said quietly.

Oh, but she did. Hadn't Sir Richard warned her that if she tried to jilt him or call off their engagement that she had given him the power to ruin her? He had practically blackmailed her into their understanding, and she saw no way out of it, no matter how much she wanted to get out of it.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked, her brown eyes opening and staring up at him.

"You don't have to marry Carlisle, not now. Not when we both understand how the other feels and we're no longer dancing around it all." Matthew replied.

"You're wrong, I do have to marry him." Mary said desperately.

Matthew frowned, dropping his hand from her face. His jaw stiffened as he looked away from her.

"I see."

"No, you don't."

"Do you love him?" Matthew asked desperately.

Mary shook her head.

"No, I don't love him. But I do have to marry him, Matthew." She whispered.

"Why?"

"For the same reason I wished I had trusted you so long ago. A secret I have carried for so long now. A secret that I know will cause you to despise me and that I couldn't bear."

His expression softened as his arms went to her waist and held her close to him. Mary sobbed into his shoulder before pulling away and apologising for making his coat wet from her tears. Matthew hushed her soothingly, wiping away her tears.

"Darling, please tell me." Matthew urged.

And so, she did. She told him about Pamuk kissing her in the small library and then coming to her bedroom that night. She told him how she had taken Pamuk as a lover and how he had died in her bed. How she, Anna and her mother had carried his body from her room back to his before the servants woke. How she had asked Carlisle to bury the story and he had at the cost that they get married.

When she was finished, she hated the look on his face, the silence that followed her story. It only made her feel that he did despise her, that she was soiled and no good for him. All of which she had known for a long time.

"Say something…if it's only goodbye…" Mary pleaded.

"Did you love him?" Matthew asked, his voice filled with hurt.

"You musn't try to-"

"Because if it was love-"

"How could it be love? I didn't know him." Mary insisted.

"Then why would you?" Matthew questioned harshly.

"It was lust Matthew. Or a need for excitement or something in him that I…oh God what difference does it make? I'm Tess of the d'Urbervilles to your Angel Clare. I have fallen. I am impure." Mary cried.

"Don't joke. Don't make it little, not when I'm trying to understand." Matthew scolded.

"Thank you for that. But the fact remains that I am made different by it. Things have changed between us." Mary pointed out.

"Even so, you must not marry him." Matthew insisted, turning into her, taking her hand in his.

"So, I must brave the storm?" Mary asked.

"You're strong. A storm-braver if ever I saw one." Matthew replied softly.

"I wonder. Sybil's the strong one. She really doesn't care what people think, but I'm afraid I do." Mary said tearfully.

Matthew braced his arm on the tree behind her, staring down at her closely. She felt herself breathing quickly as she stared up into his blue eyes intensely.

"You must sack Carlisle. It isn't worth buying off a month of scandal with a lifetime of misery." Matthew insisted.

"There's a lot to consider, Matthew." Mary said quietly.

"I know. But you were wrong about one thing." Matthew said softly.

"Only one? What is that pray?"

Matthew gave her a small smile, his free hand cupping her cheek.

"I never would- I never could despise you." He assured her.

Mary smiled up at him, leaning into him as he swooped his head down and pressed his lips against her own. Moaning into the kiss, her hands went to the front of his coat, gripping the front of it tightly as his mouth moved with hers. She felt Matthew's hands rest on her waist until he broke away from her to catch his breath, his forehead resting against her own.

"Matthew…" Mary whispered, unsure of what else to say.

"Break it off with Carlisle, Mary," Matthew pleaded, "And stay here with me. We can face anything that Carlisle throws our way."

"I-I need some time, Matthew." Mary said in a quiet voice.

Matthew nodded, giving her a small smile before placing a light kiss to her forehead. She wasn't sure if she was feeling dizzy because of her kiss with Matthew or if she felt relieved that their feelings had now been confessed for each other or if it was the slow recovery from her illness. But she requested that Matthew walk her back to the house so that she could rest. He willingly obliged her, smiling with her the way back.

While she was happy that her buried feelings and his had now been openly acknowledged between the two of them, Mary remained unsure how she was going to deal with Carlisle. Matthew wanted her to stay at Downton with him even if it meant a scandal. He had assured her that he would be with her through it all, no matter what Sir Richard threw at her. But would Matthew want to marry her if she broke away from Sir Richard? Did he view her as spoiled after confessing her night with Pamuk?

As they stopped outside the house, Matthew gave her a parting smile and kissed her cheek lightly.

"I'll see you soon, darling." Matthew whispered in her ear.

Mary smiled and said goodbye, turning to walk into the house. Anna took her coat and gloves before Mary ascended the stairs to her mother's bedroom. She knocked on the door and entered as Cora's voice called for her to do so.

"Darling? It's good to see you up and about." Cora smiled.

Her mother was still bedbound, unfortunately.

"Mama, might I have a word?" Mary asked quietly.

Cora nodded, dismissing O'Brien who closed the door behind her. Mary sat on the edge of her mother's bed.

"What is it, darling?" Cora asked, concern present in her voice.

"I-I…I love Matthew." Mary replied happily.

Cora continued to smile.

"Of course, you do."

"I don't think I ever stopped. The night we fell ill, I shared a moment with him-"

"Mary! Haven't you learned anything?!" her mother scolded.

"I know, you think I'm impure! You don't need to keep reminding me. But something has changed, mama. Matthew told me that he loves me. He told me that Lavinia broke their engagement." Mary snapped.

"Darling, you're engaged to Sir Richard. It's a good match." Cora sighed.

"He buried the Pamuk scandal, mama. His price was our marriage." Mary explained.

Cora's eyes widened.

"Then you have to see it through. If you don't then your actions will put our whole family in the gutter."

"And you don't think that Sybil running off with the chauffeur will do that?"

Cora sighed heavily, sitting up and reached for Mary's hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Mary, you need to think carefully," her mother cautioned, "Sir Richard is not the type of man you want as an enemy. If you spurn him, he has the power to drive us into the ground."

"I know what you're saying, mama. Marrying Sir Richard is the best thing to do." Mary sighed.

"I don't want you to live in scandal, Mary. Your life will be over." Cora said urgently.

"Not necessarily. I could build a life with Matthew."

"A quiet life. You wouldn't be welcome in society. You'd have to say goodbye to a season in London."

"I know! But I would have Matthew."

"And is Matthew enough for you to risk everything you know now?" Cora questioned.

This time Mary didn't need to hesitate or even think if Matthew was enough for her. She already knew that he was. She had longed for him for years, had been devastated when he had withdrawn his proposal five years ago and had been heartbroken when she had learned of his engagement to Lavinia. Five years ago, she had hesitated over how she could tell Matthew the truth of the Pamuk situation and what she should do when her mother had been pregnant with her brother. Matthew had believed that she didn't love him enough to spend her life with him and it was something she had regretted ever since. But now, things were different. It didn't matter to her if Matthew was merely a country solicitor or the heir to her father's title. He knew the truth about Pamuk, and he had asked her to stay with him and break with Carlisle. If she broke with Carlisle, she knew that her life would change dramatically. Nobody in her society would accept her and the scandal would be spoken of for decades after she drew her last breath. She would the subject of gossip and speculation. Her friends would have nothing more to do with her and she knew that if her father knew the truth, he would be angry and disappointed in her. But Matthew loved her, and she loved him.

Matthew was enough. It was all she truly wanted.

But how was she supposed to break off her engagement to Carlisle?

He had threatened her with destruction not so long ago. She knew that Sir Richard couldn't make her even the tiniest bit happy and she would forever be trapped in a miserable marriage to a man she was starting to despise.

She excused herself from her mother's presence, deciding to take a lie down in her room. As she walked down the hall, she heard the telephone ring. Carson was in the great hall below the stairs, reaching for the telephone and answered the call. Looking down, she met Carson's eye.

"Just one moment, Sir Richard." Carson requested.

The butler placed the phone on the table and walked up the staircase and stopped in front of her.

"Sir Richard is on the telephone for you, my lady."

"Please tell him that I'm resting, Carson. I'll talk with him tomorrow."

"Yes, my lady."

Walking past Carson, Mary headed to her bedroom and flopped down on the bed ungracefully. She knew that she only had a small time frame where she had to decide about her future. Not that she needed to think about it.

What she did have to decide was how she was going to end her engagement to Sir Richard and how she would deal with the fallout that followed.