CHAPTER 7 – CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR 1912/1913

Lady Grantham's parlour, Downton Abbey, December 1912

Mary did not expect to share Christmas with Matthew this year – last time he and Isobel had gone back to Manchester to spend it with their friends, despite being invited to participate in the festivities at Downton. But then the relations between the two families had been still very strained, fed by animosity between Isobel and Violet, Matthew's buckling at the reins and Mary's blatant hostility. Mary's friendship with Matthew obviously made all the difference this time, because to her delighted surprise her parents' invitation got accepted and she could look forward to Matthew's company not only on Christmas Day, but also on New Year's Eve, the New Year shoot and the Servants Ball.

"We are really curious about all those wonderful traditions you have been upholding here," said Cousin Isobel brightly over her cup of tea in Cora's parlour. She had been invited for tea with Cora and Mary. "Matthew wants to go to Manchester for the few days between Christmas and New Year, but he said he couldn't miss the festivities here. Thank you again for including us."

"Nonsense," said Cora kindly. "You are family now and we cannot wait to introduce you to the way we celebrate here. It's really fun, isn't it, Mary?"

"Of course," said Mary quickly, picking up another macaroon to busy her hands and hopefully hide how giddy she really was.

"And you really surprised me with the idea of Servants' Ball. It seems really nice, a true spirit of noble benevolence and patronage," continued Isobel.

"We like to think so," smiled Cora. "At first I found it strange, but I came to appreciate it very much. We share most details of our lives with our servants, even some of the most intimate ones, it seems proper to show that we appreciate their connection to us."

"Rightly so," said Isobel approvingly. "And our attending will give me the opportunity to give our servants additional evening off, which I am sure they will appreciate."

"And how is Molesley working out? Robert mentioned that Matthew had some reservations about him?"

Isobel hesitated for a moment.

"He is working out very well," she said firmly in the end. "He is a perfect butler, if a bit too easily flustered sometimes. Matthew is happy with him as well; he is just very independent and used to fending for himself after all those years of school and university."

Mary hid a smile behind her teacup. She didn't know whom she pitied more, poor Molesley or Matthew. She admired Cousin Isobel's attempt at diplomacy though.

Great Hall, Downton Abbey, Christmas Day 1912

Matthew came in just a moment before the lights on the tree have been lit for the first time, his mother stopping behind him to ask Cousin Cora some question. Mary turned to him, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Have you ever seen something as marvellous as that?" she asked. He forced himself not to stare at her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, but it took an effort. He rarely got to see self-possessed Lady Mary Crawley so exuberant.

"It is indeed marvellous," he agreed. The tree was spectacular. "I'm glad we got the chance to see it."

"When are you going to Manchester?" enquired Mary, still thrilled that his visit there was going to be so much shorter than it had been previously.

"We're taking seven o'clock on Boxing Day."

"Then you better make sure you won't stay up too late tonight," teased Mary with a smile. Matthew laughed.

"I'm sure Uncle Edward would survive us showing late for dinner, but I am not sure Aunt Margaret would ever forgive us. Her punctuality and standards of propriety rival Carson's."

Mary laughed as well.

"They are your mother's brother and his wife, aren't they?" she asked. She had met some of Matthew's relatives at their wedding, but his uncle had died during the war, and she barely exchanged two sentences with his widow.

"Yes. He is a pretty renown cardiologist and a very laid-back person. I guess he has to be with such high-minded women as his wife and sister," Matthew grinned.

"Does preference for high-minded women runs in your family then?" asked Mary, arching her brow. Matthew's responding gaze was smouldering and full of meaning.

"I think it might be a family trend, yes."

Their conversation was then interrupted by Robert's jovial greeting, calling for them to form the line to hand the gifts to the servants.

Matthew and Isobel observed the ritual with interest, although they both felt a bit awkward being part of the line. Still, it was enlightening to see their aristocratic cousins interacting with their servants outside of usual giving and receiving orders.

Robert was clearly in his element as a benevolent lord of the manor. His manner was easy, gregarious and friendly, but very clearly deeply rooted in awareness of his superior position. His relationship with Carson and Bates seemed truly cordial though and he knew the names of every servant, even the timid kitchen maid's, with whom he must have had barely any interaction.

Matthew couldn't resist stealing glances at Mary. As usual for her at any bigger gathering she looked reserved, but he noticed the genuine, warm smile she bestowed on the housemaid Anna. He remembered her mentioning once that Anna was the maid responsible for dressing her up and he guessed they were close. He noticed she gave her a little parcel in addition to the material for a frock which all housemaids received.

"The maids are expected to make their own dresses, you see," explained Mary later when they were serving themselves lunch from a buffet. "Which I have always found a bit unfair, since we equip the footmen with livery. But at least we try to make up for it by gifting them material every Christmas, so they don't have to pay for it from their wages."

"It does seem unfair," agreed Matthew, frowning slightly. "If you think so though, why not change the practice? Surely providing the housemaids with their work clothes cannot be such a huge expense in a budget a house like Downton must demand."

"I am not in charge of such matters though," shrugged Mary. "And Papa is more generous to the staff than many of our neighbours. From what Anna says getting a position here is considered a huge luck and privilege. Mama always has her pick of the brightest girls leaving school in the village whenever we need a new maid."

Matthew didn't argue farther, accepting that Mary was probably right. Robert was evidently a fair and generous employer and a position at his house was probably a source of pride for the servants. He snickered suddenly, remembering his first dinner here.

"I just remembered how Thomas was instructing me on serving myself," he explained to Mary's enquiring gaze. Her mouth twitched in response. "He clearly found himself well above me in station."

"Obviously going to a good school and university is less important than being a footman to the Earl of Grantham," Mary nodded with mock seriousness. "Whether you are set to become one in the future or not."

"Do you think I will ever be considered one of you properly or will I remain forever a middle-class interloper?" asked Matthew curiously. Mary looked at him with fondness.

"Oh, you will be considered so much one of us we all will find it hard to remember Downton without you," she said. "Give yourself time."

Matthew was a bit taken aback by her statement.

"I certainly would hope so and thank you for your vote of confidence," he stammered. "Undeserved as it seems at this point."

"It's not undeserved," said Mary firmly. "You had your entire life turned upside down and you accepted it and us with more grace than we often deserved, patronising and insufferable as we often were."

"Well, I came here with rather judgmental attitude of my own," admitted Matthew self-consciously. "I'm afraid I was rather a prig. I couldn't see beyond the absurdity of it all."

"There are absurdities a plenty," shrugged Mary. "But I am truly impressed how you managed to talk Papa into the renovations of the cottages. You have been here for such a short while and you are already the force for good."

Matthew blushed.

"It was your idea, really."

"No, it was yours. I did point out that the estate needs some reform, but the cottages have been your own project from the start and I won't allow you to deny yourself the credit for it."

"Then wish me luck in convincing your father to implement some of your ideas as well. He accepted the cottages scheme easily enough, but I could see from his attitude that you haven't exaggerated difficulties in making him embrace change."

Mary sighed, reaching for her plate.

"Unfortunately I think you will need all the luck for that, yes," she put some cake and fruit on it and walked slowly to the sofa, Matthew following her with a plate of his own. Mary decided to change the topic, seeing as they were in the hearing distance of the rest of the family.

"Are you looking forward to being back in Manchester?"

"Quite, yes," smiled Matthew, swallowing a bite of his cake and sending mental thanks to Mrs Patmore for its excellence. "Have you ever been?"

Mary's eyebrows shot up.

"No, never. I never had a reason to," she answered incredulously. Matthew couldn't stop himself from laughing at her expression.

"It's not so bad at all, you know," he said. "It really is quite a vibrant city and has some lovely parts. It's not all grime and factories, although it is definitely not lacking in those. But it has nice neighbourhoods and plenty of parks, Heaton Park especially is quite spectacular, not to mention theatres, shops and cafes. And I am especially fond of the people. First through my parents and then increasingly through my own connections I was part of intellectual, liberal circles and the social life we had there was truly interesting and stimulating. I really liked living there and wouldn't mind continuing to do so, if I didn't receive your father's summons. Although I did consider moving to London one day."

Mary looked at him in surprise.

"London! I never knew you were thinking of it. Why were you considering it?"

"It's quite logical, really. It's more expensive, but there is no lack of jobs or prospects for lawyers. Actually, my friend and former colleague from Manchester, Jack Weatherby, has moved there some time ago and has been trying to talk me into joining his practice. I didn't want to make any decisions so soon after I just went through a major life change, but it is a possibility. The caseload would be definitely more varied and interesting for an industrial lawyer there than in Ripon."

Mary blinked. She got so used to thinking of him as a country solicitor that she quite forgot he was actually specialised in industrial law. Not something he had much chance to practice in rural Yorkshire. She guessed it didn't really matter when he was just passing time until he inherited the Earldom or got involved in running the estate, but she knew there was still possibility of her parents having another child. Who could say if there would be a miscarriage again? If Mama had a boy and he was no longer the heir, it would make sense to move to a place where he had more opportunities to advance his career.

"Do you miss it much? Dealing with more complicated matters than wills and conveyances?"

"They can be pretty complicated too," he smiled, "But yes, sometimes I do. Especially the negotiations involved."

"Were you doing a lot of those?" she asked, a bit surprised. She never really thought how his job actually looked like. With some shame she realised she never really thought much about his life before his arrival at Downton. For all her love for him and absolute assurance that he was a good man, there was obviously much she had never known about him – or cared to learn before today. She made a firm resolution to do better. She felt suddenly greedy to know all bits and pieces of his life, even the smallest, every little fact that made him the man she loved.

"Quite a lot, actually. Our firm handled various deals and contracts for our clients and even if they made all the big decisions themselves, there is a devil in the details and that was often our role to wrangle those with the other side's legal team. Jack is brilliant with people, able to get them to like him in a matter of minutes, so it was usually left to me to be a bad guy." He grinned. "Of course he is pretty sharp himself and could go from charming to steely in a second when situation demanded it. It was terrific fun to watch him in a boardroom."

"Have you worked with him long?" asked Mary, trying and failing to imagine Matthew as "the bad guy". He seemed much too likeable for such role.

"Ever since I left Oxford. That's where we met, he was two years ahead of me. He became a mentor of sorts to me."

"Wasn't it hard to leave him behind then? To leave your whole life, really?" again she realised that it was a first time she acknowledged it had to be hard. She always was looking at his sudden change in circumstances as obvious and unbelievable strike of good fortune, one he should feel grateful for. It was only when she started to contemplate necessity of leaving her own world behind and starting a new life in his that it struck her how daunting it could be – how daunting it must have been for him.

Matthew grew pensive.

"It wasn't an easy decision. At first, I didn't want to change anything. I planned to just come for a visit, get to know you all, and then just go on living in Manchester until the unfortunate day your father was here no longer. I was determined to not let it change me. It was thanks to Mother and Jack that I relented and accepted Cousin Robert's invitation to move here and learn from him. It helped that Jack is a younger son of a landowner and had much better idea than me how truly ignorant about the demands of this life I was."

"But he is trying to lure you away now?" she asked. She had not realised it had ever been a possibility and tried not to resent Jack for raising it. She had known him in the other timeline, although not very well. He had been supposed to be Matthew's best man at their wedding, but he had fallen ill. According to Matthew it had been a sad consequence of suffering bad lung damage due to gas, which in general made travelling and socialising hard for him. She felt sad comparing the fragile man she had known with vivacious one Matthew was describing to her now.

"Maybe he realised he is lonely in Town," laughed Matthew dismissively. "I'm sure he will stop when he had some time to make new friends."

"Won't he be in Manchester for Christmas, to see his family?"

"Oh, his family is not from Manchester, but he will be there actually. We are planning to go for a pint together."

Mary winced at the low brow pastime and from teasing glint in Matthew's eyes she was sure he mentioned it deliberately.

"True, you mentioned he comes from gentry. Why is he not visiting the family then?"

Matthew grew serious.

"He is not getting along so well with them," he said curtly and promptly changed the topic. "Anyway, I said earlier, I and Mother will be spending Boxing Day with Uncle Edward, Aunt Margaret and my cousins and the next day recovering from it most probably."

Mary's curiosity was picked.

"Why would you need to recover?"

Matthew grinned.

"My cousins are rather a boisterous bunch and there are five of them. Good thing our house is not being rented until January and we won't have to stay with them for the whole visit."

Before Mary could make further inquiries their attention was called to the fact that the lunch was finished and it was time for presents.

xxx

"So this is the Mr Crawley then," said Lady Rosamund Painswick to her mother, "Well, at least you were right, he does look the part."

The Dowager scoffed.

"I usually am," she said dryly. "But yes, he is presentable. In fact he does look like the third Earl, a little."

"A very little," said Rosamund doubtfully. "He and Mary sure seem to have plenty to say to each other. They've been busy talking since we came into the room."

"They do seem to get on well, true," said Violet noncommittally, avoiding her daughter's speculative look.

"Well enough for him to make her an offer?" Rosamund was nothing if not persistent. Violet supposed one shouldn't resent one's children for inheriting one's own features, but she definitely did sometimes.

"Time will tell. He hasn't made one so far."

"Well, it hasn't been such a long time yet, I guess," mused Rosamund. "But now that Patrick's gone and Mary is out of mourning, we should get her settled. And since you didn't come to London for summer season nor do you plan to come much in winter, I don't think she had many opportunities to meet young men."

"Nobody interesting, no" agreed Violet. "But you said it yourself, it hasn't been long since she was out of mourning. Nobody likes to kiss a girl in black. We will go to London in the summer and in the meantime we will see how that will play out. It would solve many problems if it came to be."

"That's true enough. Although I never imagined Mary of all people marrying a solicitor."

"A future Earl of Grantham," stressed Violet icily. "You better make sure you focus on the important part when you talk with your friends about it."

"Oh, I will, I will," assured Rosamund airily. "Even if solicitor makes for better gossip, I do care about upholding the family's image. Pity though that he isn't a viscount, as a proper heir should be. She won't have any title at all until Robert dies."

"See that you do," concluded her mother and walked purposefully towards Robert. She had enough of her younger child for a moment.

Downton Woods, January 1st, 1913

New Year Day turned out to be cold and foggy, with just a hint of frost on the ground. To Robert's delight the turnout for the shoot was pretty good, with neighbours and guests from further parts showing up in good humour. Eleven guns altogether. There were the Russells with Billy, Sir Anthony Strallan, the Greys with both their boys, some friends of Rosamund from London and that young man Cora had some hopes for Edith, the Viscount Branksome's son. He turned out to be a very nice, unassuming young man and thankfully much less boring than his father. Robert wouldn't have minded him for a son in law.

He looked at his heir, dressed up in hunting tweeds, talking animatedly with Billy Russell, looking right at home among the aristocratic crowd and felt first stirrings of pride. He never expected to feel it again after Patrick had died, but Matthew seemed to fit right in, solicitor or not.

He noticed Matthew turning to the side, his face brightening, and he didn't have to turn himself to know that his eldest daughter was approaching. He allowed himself a small smile. Here was hope his heir might be yet more closely related to him than by just being his distant cousin.

xxx

It was somehow endearing to see Matthew fumbling so badly with a gun and feeling not in the least self-conscious about it.

"Why don't you have a loader? Barnard would have found you one."

"I'm not very good at it. They saw double guns and I don't want a witness."

"I'm a witness."

Matthew sent her a grin.

"Then please don't spread the word of my incompetence."

They exchanged a knowing smile. Matthew made another shot and exclaimed in joyful surprise.

"I think I might have got one!"

The horn blew. Matthew broke his gun and unloaded it, looking at Mary with twinkling eyes.

"You must promise faithfully to lie when they asked you how I did."

Mary basked in their easy laughter.

xxx

She ended up sitting next to Evelyn Napier during the shooting lunch and found it much easier to talk pleasantly with him now when she didn't feel pressure to treat him as her suitor. She was always awfully fond of him, in absolutely platonic way. She remembered vividly finding his talk of his work at Foreign Office boring, but as with Sir Anthony and farming, she found out she was much more interested in foreign politics now that she understood how they were going to influence her life in less than two years.

Her younger self really had been an ignorant, self-absorbed goose.

"We are working hard to solve the mess resulting from the Balkan War and try to bring the peace before it escalates into a wider conflict," Evelyn was explaining animatedly. "Albania announced their independence, but nobody really wants to acknowledge it. And of course it does not help the peace talks that all sides are engaging in unmentionable atrocities against civilians."

"How perfectly horrid," answered Mary, losing her appetite. Maybe there was a reason talking shop with Evelyn was always putting her off. "I realise wars are always horrible, but this one seems particularly brutal."

Evelyn nodded gravely.

"That's why we yearn for peace so much. With the alliances between European countries as they are, there is a risk of any conflict spreading well beyond the original casus belli and we want to avoid it at all cost."

If only they succeeded, thought Mary with despair, knowing full well that they won't.

To her extreme relief, Edith, sitting on Evelyn's other side, dragged his attention to her conversation with Sir Anthony and freed Mary to talk with Matthew.

"I have not realised you are following current events so much," noted Matthew pleasantly. Mary sighed.

"I have no love for gruesome news, but I'm afraid ignorance of them will not prevent them from influencing our lives anyway. At least I hope to understand the context better."

"You think a wider war is unavoidable?"

"You don't?"

"It would be totally against reason. European countries' economies are so intertwined, a war on huge scale would be bound to be against interest of everybody. And heads of states of the principal players are all family members."

Mary laughed bitterly.

"You obviously don't realise how vicious family fights can be."

Matthew smiled crookedly.

"On the contrary, I am a solicitor. The most bitter family fights tend to involve representatives of my profession."

Mary allowed him to lighten her mood, spoiled by Evelyn, who was still discussing international affairs with Edith and Sir Anthony. She vaguely remembered that Sir Anthony was somehow involved in diplomatic corps as well. Hadn't he visited Germany and Austria just before the war started? And Edith clearly developed her interest in current affairs much earlier than anyone in the family took notice.

Dismissing any thoughts of Edith and pushing away the ever looming shadow of oncoming war, Mary decided to change the topic.

"Are you looking forward to the Servants' Ball?"

"I am rather," admitted Matthew with a smile. "It's been some time since I had an opportunity to dance. I do understand that I will be obliged to dance with some servants first, but can I hope for a dance with you later in the evening?"

"I'm certain you can," answered Mary, delighted by his request. "I just hope you aren't a terrible dancer who will end up trampling all over my feet."

Matthew smirked.

"You will never know until you try, but I haven't received any complaints on my dancing skills so far."

"Oh, and have you been attending many dances in Manchester?" drawled Mary teasingly.

"Enough, both in Manchester and London," answered Matthew confidently. "I will remind you again that Manchester is actually full of people and is not lacking in social occasions."

"And did your work give you enough opportunities to attend any?"

"If you think the upper classes are the only people who do business during a formal dinner or a ball, you are very much mistaken. I didn't order my set of tails only when moving to Downton, you know."

"They did look rather worn, I give you that," teased Mary, but fearing that she went too far, immediately followed it with. "I am looking forward to testing your confidence in your dancing abilities though."

xxx

Edith did not remember any social event she had ever enjoyed so much, except maybe her coming out ball. She had true attention of two men, who were engaged in a proper, interesting, substantial conversation with her and seemed to actually listen to her and treat her opinions seriously! And what was most wonderful, none of them raised the topic of her sister nor made any enquiries about her. Mr Napier was so handsome and interesting and Sir Anthony so polite and sweet that she couldn't even tell honestly which of the two she preferred right now – she was just basking in their attention. Was this how Mary felt most of the time?

She noticed Mama's delighted look and Aunt Rosamund's approving one and she felt delighted herself that she was finally making them proud. And she didn't even tell them yet that Mr Napier asked if he could write to her!

Great Hall, Downton Abbey, January 1913

Servants' Ball was in full swing and Mary was soon able to admit to Matthew that he was not, in fact, overconfident about his dancing skills. He accepted her concession with a grin, twirling her deftly around the room. Holding her in his arms like this, being able to look into her chocolate brown eyes and smell her perfume, he felt like he was floating among the clouds. It was a good thing he actually was a good dancer, because he found out he was not able to concentrate on his feet at all.

"I admire your courage in daring to dance with Miss O'Brien," teased Mary. "She can be rather fearsome; I have no idea why Mama likes her."

"I did my duty," answered Matthew. It was not so bad. O'Brien was a good dancer and perfectly polite to him, and anyway it was a small price to pay to have the opportunity to dance with Mary now.

"Are you a creature of duty?" asked Mary, looking at him so intently that he found it hard to take enough air to give her an answer. His hands instinctively pulled her body closer to his. His body felt on fire.

"Not entirely."

Mary looked like she wanted to say something, but instead sighed and looked away, biting her lower lip. Matthew felt a treacle of disappointment, his arousal diminishing. He didn't have a clue what she planned to say, but he desperately wanted to know.

Their dance came to its end in silence and Matthew followed Mary outside to get some relief from the overheated room. It was just starting to snow and the night took a magical atmosphere.

"It's one of my favourite memories, you know, the snow falling after the Servants Ball," Mary said dreamily.

"Why?" he asked, fascinated, yearning to know her better, to understand her.

"Because it was a moment when I went from fearing I can never be happy to the greatest happiness I have ever felt in my life so far," she answered than seemed to startle at the words coming out of her mouth and looked at him in alarm. "A tale for another day. Anyway, I got a bit wistful looking at the snowflakes, as you can see."

"I do see," he said softly.

Matthew's Study, Crawley House, January 1913

Matthew was staring into the fire gloomily, nursing his brandy, but barely drinking it.

He was in love with Lady Mary Crawley, there was no hiding from the fact, at least not to himself. Her wit, her intelligence, her beauty, her most alluring, maddening body – especially in that blasted revealing ball gown – they all possessed his mind, his body and seemingly his very soul. It took all he had not to kiss her when he had her in his arms during their dance, the crowd of family and servants be damned. She was so close, so beautiful, she smelled so good, he was touching her... He had never ever felt like he did during that dance.

His body was responding just to the memory of it.

But there was also no hiding from the fact that Mary was still mourning her dead fiancé, whom she very obviously loved very much. She was friendly towards him and they led very interesting discussions. She did seem to enjoy his company. But she never hinted at anything more and he felt a proper cad for even considering wooing a woman in mourning – even if she stopped wearing black soon after his arrival, at six months mark. It was clearly only the result of following the accepted timetable though – the way she spoke about her lost love showed very clearly that she was not done mourning him in her heart.

He tried to tell himself that he just needed to be patient – to give her time to grieve and recover – but tonight he despaired of ever having a chance to win her love. How could he when he was practically stepping into her late fiancé's shoes? Even if she agreed to marry him – and wouldn't her family be delighted at this "tidy" solution – would she ever be able to look at him and not be reminded of the man who should have been there? He could swear that sometimes, when she was looking at him, she was seeing someone else.

The wistfulness and sadness in her voice and eyes when she was looking at the snow falling softly after the Servants Ball... It was obvious to him that she was nowhere close enough to forgetting the man who starred in her memories.

He would give anything to make her look like that at him. Anything.