In spite of his resolve not to dwell on the mystery that Mary's American grandmother had laid at his feet, Matthew sat at the "fancy desk" she had referred to in her letter doing just that. He stared intently at the two sealed white envelopes that lay before him on the mahogany Carlton Desk, aptly named as it had belonged to the Prince of Wales when he resided in Carlton House, his London home in 1790, pondering their contents.
During the last half hour, his analytical mind had provided him with a variety of possibilities that could account for Martha Levinson reaching out to him and Mary. The first was that she needed the two of them to chair some charity event she found worthwhile, being unable to take on the role herself due to her advanced age.
This theory was supported by the sizeable donation she made to the Home for Female Orphans in London, her generosity prompted by her learning that a good deal of the institution's financial support was lost when it became public knowledge that the girls were being taught to dance and act in plays.
Martha was so outraged that she had demanded the headmaster of the orphanage provide her with the names of those who withdrew their subscriptions with the intent to give each one a "piece of her mind". Much to her chagrin, she was informed that even though her donation was greatly appreciated, her request could not be granted due to privacy regulations.
After giving that scenario further thought, Matthew decided that although this proved to be a plausible explanation as to why he and Mary were contacted, it did not explain why they were sent two separate letters or instructed to open the third together in private. Why all the secrecy if Martha was only petitioning them to act on her behalf in championing one of her causes?
Scrapping that idea, he then pondered if she might be planning a trip to Downton despite her physician's edict that she no longer travel abroad. He wouldn't put in past her to ignore her doctor's directive. If so, she would need someone on the inside, so to speak, to assist her with her trip while keeping the wool over her daughter's eyes until it was too late for Cora to stop her.
Taking it a step further, he hypothesized that Martha might want them to accompany her to destinations unknown at present in England or perhaps the Continent when she tired of the Crawleys at large.
Yet she had to know that her daughter would not close Downton's door to her should she be that determined to visit, even without her doctor's approval. It was also unlikely that he and Mary would have been the elder woman's first choice as confidantes or companions should she desire to travel to London, Paris or Berlin, her favorites in days gone by. It made much more sense that she would have reached out to his mother, having claimed Isobel a kindred spirit on more than one occasion and knowing she not only was free to travel but had medical training should it be needed.
Picking up one of the envelopes, he tapped the desk with one corner and then rotated it from one end to another as he formulated one last possibility. Martha Levinson might be seeking help for her son, Harold. After all, Mary's uncle did seem to have a knack of getting himself into sticky situations. The Teapot Dome Scandal in '22 came to mind.
As he recalled, his father-in-law had been enlisted to vouch for Harold's behavior before a special committee in Washington, D.C., who was investigating whether he, along with the Secretary of Interior, had bribed a U.S. Senator in order to secure petroleum reserves in Wyoming and California. Could it be that Mary's uncle had gotten himself in hot water again and his mother was reluctant to ask Robert for assistance this time, knowing his health had faltered in the last year?
"No, that can't be it," he spat out and then grimaced, realizing he was now talking to himself. Martha had assured him in her letter that the reason she was contacting him and Mary was not ominous. If Harold were in some kind of peril, the situation would be just that. She had stated they would be pleased upon learning of what she had in store for them. Neither he nor his wife would find Uncle Harold being in jeopardy a pleasing prospect.
He shook his head in exasperation, tossing the envelope back on the desk as he echoed his father-in-law's words, "What the devil is that woman up to?"
Engrossed as he was in his musings, Matthew hadn't notice anyone enter the room and was completely taken by surprise when he heard his son ask, "Whom are you referring to, Father?"
Startled by the intrusion, he jumped in his seat before he turned toward the familiar voice, finding his first born standing three feet away from him with a perplexed look on his face and his hands behind his back.
"George," he sputtered, before fully regaining his composure. "I'm sorry, Son. I didn't realize that you were standing there."
"It is I who must apologize, Sir," the tall, lanky adolescent replied in a tone quite serious for a 12 year old. "It seems I've come at an inopportune time," he added, his blue eyes fixed on the unopened correspondence that sat before his father on the desk.
"Nonsense," Matthew replied with a broad smile. "I'm glad you have done so as I needed to put an end to my speculation regarding a matter that has needlessly driven me to distraction and will be resolved as soon as your mother returns from London."
Taking note of the anxious expression on his offspring's face and quickly deducing the root of it, he informed George that the woman he had heard him grumbling about when he entered the room was not Mary.
George relaxed instantly and smiled, "In that case, I've come to show you something."
Matthew followed suit, grinning broadly as he caught sight of a silver object jutting out from behind the lad's back. Knowing that his son had been working diligently on assembling a model airplane for the past week, he ventured a guess and asked, "Is the Spirit of St. Louis ready to fly?"
"How did you…?" George began and then started to laugh as he followed his father's gaze and found his answer. He then brought the model plane into full view and lamented, "I fear I am not very good at hiding things."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Matthew contradicted in a playful tone. "I seem to recall your hiding your favorite cookies in your pillow case when you were a good bit younger and no one was the wiser until one of the maid's informed Mrs. Hughes what you were up to. Your mother and I had feared you had a poor appetite since you rarely finished your meals and were about to consult a physician. Luckily, the head housekeeper informed us that an abundance of crumbs had been discovered in your bed before we had you physically examined."
Color rose to George's cheeks and he lowered his eyes, fixing them on one of the pale green and gold palms beneath his feet, the design fixing the Persian rug's place of origin. He shuffled back and forth, his highly polished and tightly laced black shoes glistening in the sunlight that beamed through the windows and casting a substantial shadow over the carpeting as his feet were quite large for a boy his age.
Being blessed with his father's sense of humor, it did not take him long to raise his head and chuckle as he revisited that moment in time, recalling that his sole mission had been to garner as many cookies as possible before his caretaker discovered he was missing.
"Mrs. Patmore never could resist my pleas for baked goods," he smiled. "She would hand me a cookie and then stuff another in each of my pockets. Then she would pat me on my bottom and send me off with one of the maids to the nursery.
"That doesn't surprise me one bit…," Matthew exclaimed. "The servants would jump through hoops if you had asked them to. They all adored you, George, especially Mr. Carson. Though he was a stickler for rules if I ever saw one, he turned a blind eye to your antics...and I often found Mr. Barrow carrying you around the house on his shoulders while you yelled 'Giddyap' as though he were your personal pony."
George grinned, "I find I must agree with you, Father. Then, his mood turned somber and he sighed, "I miss her."
"I know you do, Son," Matthew said soothingly. "She was a kind, caring woman who served our family well. I dare say her absence is felt by many under Downton's roof as well as in the Village."
He then turned his attention to the model plane in his son's hands, taking note of the expert craftsmanship, which contrasted sharply with the clay horse sculpture he eyed a few feet away, a gift from George on his 40th birthday. It appeared to have five legs, though Mary had explained the fifth appendage was the horse's tail, and the animal's body was woefully out of proportion. No matter, he had displayed it proudly from that day forward and it remained his favorite piece of art at Downton.
Extending his hand in his son's direction, he asked, "If I promise to be extremely careful in handling it, will you allow me a closer look, George?"
"Of course, Father," he replied quickly, producing the miniature replica of the plane Charles Lindbergh made history piloting from New York to Paris in 1927, the first successful trans-Atlantic crossing by air.
On that historic day, George Crawley was only 6 year's old, much too young to comprehend the significance of what had transpired and how it would change the world. Yet, his fascination with aeronautics had already taken root two years earlier when he attended the first of many Hendon Air Shows that he would with his father.
As Matthew held his son's latest project, an image of his face the first time he saw a fleet of biplanes flying overhead in formation popped into his head and he couldn't help but smile. Completely mesmerized by the spectacle, the young boy's eyes had remained wide and mouth hung open even after the pass was completed and he had to nudge him to bring him out of his trance. From that moment on, George was enthralled with air flight and soon his Hornby electric train set gathered dust, replaced by a small model plane aptly named a FROG, as it "flew right off the ground."
"It is magnificent, Son," he said, running his index finger gently over the wing with NYP27 boldly blazoned on it, signifying New York to Paris and the year. George had captured every minute detail perfectly from the gun metal color of the propeller to the tiny flags that adorned the right side of the engine cowling, each one representing a country that the "Spirit" had visited during Lindbergh's tour of Latin America that same year.
Hearing his father's praise, George beamed, "Thank you, Father. I think it is my best work yet."
Matthew agreed wholeheartedly with him. Though his son's bedroom housed an impressive collection of miniature cars, trains, ships and especially aircraft that he had assembled over the years, none of his Dinky construction toys lit a candle to this.
George then elaborated on the intricacies of the replica as he highlighted each one with his index finger, downplaying how difficult it was to work with some parts that were as small as the head of a nail when Matthew asked him how he had managed it.
"You must have a steady hand and a great deal of patience in order to get it right, and I have found I have both," he replied. Then seeing his father nodding his head in agreement, he added "From what I've seen, I believe I may have inherited those traits from you."
Grateful for the compliment, Matthew thanked George before suggesting that it was quite possible that his own father was the root of their good fortune as he had found Reginald Crawley incorporated both in his work as a physician.
Gingerly placing the model on the desk, effectively covering the unopened letters that had been vexing him, the future Earl rose out of his chair and motioned for his son to follow him. Then, as the two of them slowly made their way to one of the red sofas before the fireplace, Matthew touched upon some of the physician's work.
Once seated, he expounded on his father's research into childhood infectious diseases, a well placed topic since the reason George and Victoria were not in school in Harrogate at the moment was due to an outbreak of measles. The illness had spreapd so quickly that the preparatory schools ended their semesters early in order to contain it.
While heralding the benefits of vaccinations, such as the one given to prevent whooping cough that was discovered in 1925, he was interrupted by Thomas Barrow, who had come as requested to advise him that Lady Mary and Miss Victoria had returned from London.
Hearing this announcement, George shot up from his seat as though it had suddenly caught fire and sped to the desk to retrieve his plane. Then with the Spirit of St. Louis safely in hand, he turned to his father and asked for permission to go to his room.
Matthew remained nonplussed for a moment until he deciphered his son's behavior. Victoria, two year's younger than her brother, was a bit clumsy and had in the past unintentionally damaged more than one of her brother's models. Clearly, George had not wanted to tempt fate again.
Though he had no doubt that George sought his mother's opinion and praise regarding his work, his sister's hand's on approach in viewing his projects was another matter altogether.
He nodded and smiled, "Of course, you may, George." Then seeing him scamper across the room, he brought him to an abrupt halt with, "However, please take a moment to greet your mother and sister on your way up."
Acknowledging his father's request with a tip of the head, George crossed the room with alacrity and grinned at Mr. Barrow before inching past him and taking flight.
Matthew rose from the sofa as, "Welcome home, Mother….You, too, Victoria," floated through the doorway, followed by what could easily be attributed to the sound of stampeding cattle, but was in actuality George bounding up the stairs that led to the Gallery.
The heir presumptive and servant stood frozen, their attention focused on the hubbub outside the room until it subsided. Then they turned and faced one another. Matthew shrugged his shoulders and let out a long sigh while Mr. Barrow stood stoically in place, biting his lip in order keep his composure.
Taking note that the servant was losing his battle, he dismissed him with, "That will be all, Mr. Barrow," his own features alight with amusement.
He remained behind a few seconds, chuckling over his first born child's antics. Then he made his way to the Great Hall to give his wife and daughter a proper welcome.
XX
As he entered the hall, Matthew found Mary standing at the foot of the grand oak staircase, handing Miss Baxter, the lady's maid she shared with her mother, her hat and gloves. The hat was particularly becoming on her, the deep green felt rim upturned at the back while the front slanted down over one eye, lending an air of mystery to her lovely face.
The remainder of her ensemble suited her nicely, too; a chic green and white checkered peplum jacket, the squares so tiny that the colors appeared blended until you were close enough to differentiate them. The stylish top nipped at her narrow waist and hugged her hips as it draped over a solid green skirt that fell to her calves. A small slit on each side gave him a glimpse of her shapely legs, made even more so by high heel shoes that had been dyed the exact color of her hat.
Taking in his wife's appearance, he was grateful that the styles that dominated the '20s were over. He had never cared for the boxy shapes of the dresses that hid the figures beneath them, especially Mary's. The new designs were much more to his liking as they showcased her still hour glass figure.
Mary removed her jacket and adjusted the wide bow on the white blouse she wore beneath it and turned to find her husband eyeing her appreciatively.
"I'm glad you like it," she said as she moved closer to him, taking hold of his hands and giving him a quick peck in greeting. Then as though reading his mind, she said, "Yes, it is new, but don't worry. It is a knockoff."
Matthew grinned, "I wasn't worried at all, darling. In fact, even if it were an original, I couldn't bring myself to complain about the cost as you look so stunning in it. I'm so happy to see you, Mary. I've missed you."
"Well, if this is the type of reception I can look forward to upon my return, I must make it a point to travel to London more often," she teased.
They laughed as they broke apart and Mary moved to the stairs, placing one foot on the first step and her hand on the newel post of the banister.
Taking his eyes off his wife for the first time since he entered the room, Matthew took notice that their daughter was no where to be seen.
"Where did Victoria go off to? I'm sure I heard George greet her as he dashed to his room with his new model plane."
Before responding to his question, she answered one of her own, "So that is why he ran past the two of us at lightening speed. He wanted to put some distance between his latest project and his sister."
"Well, I don't think we can blame him after the last mishap, darling. Do you?"
Mary shook her head back and forth and chuckled, "Victoria is a bit of a klutz." Then in a serious tone added, "Though we must do everything in our power to convince her otherwise and hope she will outgrow it. We don't want her self-esteem to suffer."
He nodded in agreement, hoping that over time Victoria would come to possess the poise and grace that her mother exhibited so easily. Over the years, he had seen more than one aristocrat behave cruelly toward an individual who did not meet their high standards. He did not want his daughter to be hurt by some boorish prig snickering behind her back because she knocked over a vase or dropped her fork at dinner.
"As for our lovely daughter," Mary continued, "Papa was headed out the door with Horus for a walk when we arrived and she begged me to allow her to go with them. Ordinarily, I would have insisted that she change out of her travel clothes first, but it was clear that my father was in a foul mood and I thought she might cheer him up. He barely said a word to mother or me; just scowled. I decided then and there that it would be worth replacing Victoria's dress, if need be, in order to lift his spirits. If there is anyone at Downton who can cheer Papa up, she can. Do you have any thing idea what is wrong with him, Matthew? He seemed fine when we left for London."
That set him off. He did know what was wrong with his father-in law as it was the same thing that was wrong with him at that very moment. It was those cursed letters from Martha Levinson that had cast a gloom over Mary's return, and he feared the worst was yet to come.
"I do know why he is out of sorts, darling," Matthew grimaced. "Some correspondence has arrived for you…for us…that I have no doubt is at the root of your father's agitation. I'll address it with you after you've freshened up."
Seeing the cheerful expression on Mary's face quickly replaced by anxiety, he assured her it was nothing for her to worry about and changed the subject, insisting she give him all the details of her excursion.
After examining him closely and determining that she could take him at his word, she smiled, "I had a lovely time, Matthew. We all did. The dress fittings couldn't have gone smoother…Catherine is going to take Tom's breath away when he sees her come down the aisle. Her gown is exquisite…the embroidery on the bodice a work of art, and she looks like royalty in it…as does your erstwhile nurse in the pale blue gown she will be wearing. Lilian sends her love, by the way, along with an admonishment from her and Joseph over your absence as of late…and I can't say I blame them for being piqued. You've been terribly remiss in socializing with the Cosgroves, darling. Why, I think it has been close to a month since you last spoke to either of them…And after all, she did nurse you back to health in London after your accident the day George was born. On top of that, Joseph spent over a year combing the countryside for Scotland Yard as well as in his free time in an attempt to uncover your identity while you suffered amnesia. You were the best man at their wedding and…"
"Darling, please stop," Matthew pleaded, breaking her off. "You don't have to list any further reasons why I should renew my ties with the Cosgroves. I feel awful that it has been so long since I have connected with them," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "In my defense, however, I've been up to my eyeballs in contract negotiations. Yet you are right and I vow I will do better from now on. You know how much my adopted London family means to me," he added with conviction.
Mary nodded, "I do know," before placing her hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Soothed by her touch, his mood lightened and he spouted, "You didn't mention Alison. Did Lilian and Joseph's daughter go with you to the dress fitting? And how are Dr. Head and Ruth doing? Did you get to spend much time with them?"
Mary addressed her husband's questions in rapid succession, first replying, "Alison had her dress fitted already and was at school when we arrived, as was Edith's daughter, Vivienne. Thankfully, there has been no outbreak of measles in London. Ruth looked a bit worn out, but I think that is to be expected considering the time and effort she expends daily in assisting Lilian with Henry's care. I think both women have been working harder than ever as his condition has worsened."
At that Matthew frowned, clearly disturbed that the physician who saved his life when he was Patient #9 in the Head Trauma Ward at the London Hospital and taken him into his home when he was discharged with no knowledge of his own was clearly losing his battle with Parkinson's Disease.
Seeing the distress on her husband's face, Mary changed tack and reported, "Sybbie took a keen interest in Henry's condition. In fact the two of them spent a considerable amount of time discussing his ailment after she informed him of her desire to pursue a career in medicine. His eyes lit up when she informed him that she wants to become an obstetrician in order to do whatever she can to lessen the risks associated with childbirth.
They both smiled then and spoke of how proud Sybil must be of her daughter as she looked down upon her from heaven. That acknowledgement prompted Mary to dab at her eyes and Matthew, upon clearing his throat, to request that she continue with her account of her excursion.
After taking a few moments to reign in her emotions, Mary continued cataloging the events that had transpired in London.
The Downton group met with Edith and the Londoners, as she and Matthew playfully referred to Lilian Pomeroy, her sister Catherine Moore and Henry and Ruth Head, in their home in Eaton Square, where they spent a good hour catching up on what was new in their respective lives. Then they had headed to fashion designer Norman Hartnell's new salon in Mayfair
"I wish you could have seen it, Matthew," she said, bubbling with excitement. "The entire room is lined with glass mirrors and fine art. I dare say it is considered the height of modernity by those who frequent the establishment."
Then she went on to say that Hartnell was a protégée of the celebrated Lucile and offered, "You may remember me mentioning her name to you when Edith was set to marry Anthony Strallan, darling, as Granny had offered to pay for her to design her wedding gown. However, Mama and Edith nixed the idea, which was just as well since my grandmother was spared the hefty cost she would have incurred for a jilted bride." A flash of anger crossed her eyes before Mary continued, "Lucile was later sued by Hartnell for damages, as she had represented several of his drawings as her own in "The Sketch".
Matthew was not surprised to hear about the lawsuit as he remembered discussing it with some of his colleagues at Harville & Carter when the case made the headlines. Nasty business, he thought as the details filled his head before his wife's voice broke him out of his musings.
Edith offered Mr. Hartnell space in her publication to promote his new line at no cost as she had felt badly that the Sketch had caused him harm, albeit unwittingly, and not only did he accept her offer but graciously countered with one of his own - a substantial reduction in the cost of not only Catherine's wedding gown but of her wedding party, as well.
"Can you believe our good fortune? Not only will we will all be wearing Norman Hartnell originals, but our gowns featured in one of the "The Sketch's" September publications. I have to admit, I'm quite impressed by the way Edith managed the whole affair," she said with pride. "My sister can be quite brilliant at times…though you didn't hear that from me," she added quickly.
The dress fittings complete, they all headed to Edith and Evelyn's townhouse for luncheon, where they were warmly greeted by the 5th Viscount Branksome before he headed out the door to a meeting. Once they had their fill of Shepherd's pie, Victoria and Sybbie had begged, and she had relented, that they go to Gunter's Tea House for ice cream.
"The streets were bustling with the activity of the Season, Matthew. I think the sight of the young debutantes on parade in their finest left quite an impression on the girls, especially Sybbie, as she will come out in four short years."
"Ahh…the Season…I remember it well," Matthew said with dramatic flair. "Young lady's riding in Hyde Park between 10 and 2, elegantly dressed in their smartest riding habits with their fathers in tow on Rotten Row or the Ladies Mile, their hooks baited to snare a desirable husband…cricket matches, promenades in the park, dramatic matinees, polo, tennis, lawn bowling, archery, picnics and parties and above all, the races. After all, what would life be without The Ascot or The Derby for that matter? The London marriage market would go down in flames."
Mary couldn't help but laugh; her perspective with regard to the London Season was now quite different than it had been when she was presented to his Majesty, King Edward VII, in 1909. She had lived through a great war since then and its aftermath as well as the loss of her husband, whom she had believed to be dead for over a year, though it had felt like an eternity.
"Quite right," she agreed and began giggling before wincing in pain and informing him that her shoes were mercilessly pinching her toes. She had to get out of them.
Matthew placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her up the first few steps, insisting that she take as much time as she needed to refresh herself after her long train ride and then reiterating his promise that he would join her in their room shortly.
She nodded and smiled before continuing her ascent with alacrity, the offensive heels leaving a miniscule indentation on the red carpeting that lined the stairway in her wake.
Once he saw his wife reach the Gallery that led to their bedroom, Matthew turned to make his way to the library but was quickly forestalled when the front door flew open and Tom rushed in like a gust of wind.
"Matthew, you must come quickly," he choked out between gasps. Then coming closer, he took hold of his upper arm and pulled him toward the still open door, adding, "Victoria needs you."
XX
If the sun hadn't been in his eyes, Matthew would have had a clear view of his daughter lying on the ground a few yards away from Jackdaws Castle, kicking her legs in the air and screaming her head off. The latter was painfully clear, the sound of Victoria's cries reaching his ears quickly as he and Tom raced across the lush green lawn that separated the folly from the house.
The other sounds permeating the air were that of Horus barking wildly and his father-in-law shouting commands at the dog.
Heavily winded, though not as badly as Tom, who had made the trip twice, he reached his wailing child in what he considered record speed for someone his age. Then he quickly assessed the scene before him.
Robert had Horus by the collar and was pulling him away from Victoria, reprimanding him for his bad behavior, though Matthew soon discovered the dog had only followed his natural instincts. The Labrador had caught sight of a rabbit and chased it across the grounds into its hole. Left to his own devices, he would have either killed it or found it had bored down too deeply into the ground for him to reach it and headed for greener pastures, so to speak.
However, Horus faced an obstacle to his desire in the form of a 10 year old girl whom he had loved from the moment he laid eyes upon her, a child he would lay down his life for without hesitation if need be in order to protect, but who now was blocking his way. What recourse did he have but to bark and nudge her aside?"
"Father, make him stop," Victoria cried out, seeing him looming over her. "He wants to hurt the rabbit."
At that the Earl of Grantham, looking quite disheveled as a result of his attempts to drag his 70 lb dog away from its prey, interjected, "Tom, help me get Horus back to the house so that Victoria will stand up and calm down."
Bent over with his hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath, Tom managed to eek out, "I think that is an excellent idea, Robert. I'm in dire need of a cool drink and I'm sure Matthew would like a private moment with his daughter. I also need to telephone my own as she had decided to stay on at Edith's for a few days." Then he moved to his father-in-law's side and relieved him, taking hold of the dog's collar and giving it a good tug as he demanded, "Let's go, Horus. It is time to go home now, boy."
Worn out by his tug of war with his owner and by the looks of it, in need of a cool drink, himself, the Labrador complied.
Seeing the dog move away from his daughter, Matthew let out a sigh of relief and thanked Robert and Tom for their efforts as they set off for Downton. Then he turned to address Victoria.
She had raised herself up on her elbows and would not budge until she saw that her grandfather, uncle and Horus were half way to the house. Then she pushed herself off the ground and ran to him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist as she began to sob.
"Now, now, it is alright, sweetheart," Matthew said soothingly, his hand resting lightly on the back of her head while he placed a kiss on it. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Victoria. I'm here now and I'm going to take you home."
"Oh, Father, it was awful," she hiccupped. "Horus…he…he spotted the rabbit and took off after it. I ran as fast as I could to stop him but I couldn't catch up. Then…then he stood over the hole and started to dig at it. I tried with all my strength to push him away but he didn't budge. He just kept barking like mad and jumping up and down. I've never seen him act that way before. I decided the only way to save the rabbit was if I blocked the hole with my body and managed to squeeze underneath his belly. He didn't like that and barked even louder, hitting me with his paws even though Grandfather was pulling him back and telling him to stop this nonsense at once in his stern voice…you know the one he always apologizes for when he uses it….but Horus paid him no mind. He just kept barking and jumping. Then Uncle Tom showed up and Grandfather told him to get you...and…and…well, I'm so glad you came."
His heart swelled with love as he looked into his daughter's blue eyes, still filled with tears after her ordeal. Taking his handkerchief from the pocket of his suit jacket, he dabbed at her tears along with the smudges of dirt on her face and asked, "Are you hurt, sweetheart? I can see Horus scratched you here and there, but he didn't bite you, did he?"
Victoria shook her head, a long strand of hair the exact color of Mary's that had escaped from her braid whipping back and forth, and sniffled, "No, he didn't and I don't think he meant to scratch me, either. Please don't be angry with him, Father. I do love him so."
Matthew assured her that he was not upset with Horus and that he doubted he would be severely reprimanded for his actions. "Perhaps he will not be allowed out without being on a leash for a short period of time. Put your mind at ease, sweet girl."
She nodded and smiled in his direction, easing his own before he continued, "Now, young lady, I want you to promise me that you will never put yourself in harm's way as you did today ever again. You could have been seriously hurt in Horus's attempt to get to what he considers prey. That is what a rabbit is to him, Victoria, even though you don't see it that way. Do you understand?"
It pained him to say it as he knew a small piece of his daughter's innocence was lost with his words. In the story books that he read to her, the lions and lambs got along famously. Sadly, that was not the case in the real world and today she had to face that harsh reality of life. He wished he could have protected her from it just a bit longer, but there it was.
Victoria crossed her heart and gave him her word that she would not interfere with Horus or any other animal in pursuit of another again.
"I'm sorry, Father," she said solemnly. "I'm afraid I've ruined my dress on top of making you worry…and Mother is going to be quite cross with me."
At that, Matthew, stood up and lifted her into his arms, planting a kiss on the cleaner of her two cheeks, before he replied, "I'll soften her up a bit while you are getting tidied…and don't fret, Victoria. I think your dress is just soiled, not ruined. I'm sure it will look at good as new once it takes a spin in that new washing machine that was delivered last week. I've heard it has worked wonders with your brother's shirts and such."
He felt her body begin to relax, and a moment later, saw her turn her head and heard her begin to giggle. Following her line of vision, he followed suit as he caught sight of the tiny rabbit's head peeping out of the hole Victoria had been guarding. After finding the coast was clear, the creature scrambled out quickly, his ears flopping wildly and white, fluffy tail bouncing like a ball on the green turf until it reached a row of tall Myrtle hedges that lay behind the folly and disappeared.
They both looked at one another and burst into laughter. Then he lifted her into his arms and headed for home, tickling her sides for good measure every yard or so, which caused her to squeal with glee as they crossed the manicured lawn that separated them from the massive stone structure they dwelled in
Winded by excitement and exertion as he reached the front door, Matthew took a deep breath before pushing the door open, hoping that the quandary that awaited him inside would result in as happy an ending as this one had.
XX
Luckily, he ran into Miss Baxter before either Cora or Mary got a glimpse of Victoria in her present state and handed the child over quickly to the lady's maid. Her eyes widened at the sight of her appearance but she didn't ask any question other than if she should call Dr. Clarkson.
"No, she is perfectly fine, Miss Baxter…just a few scratches. The only thing she requires is a bath and change of clothes," he added as he placed his daughter on her feet.
"Your mother and I will come to your room once you are squeaky clean," he smiled, tapping the tip of Victoria's nose with his index finger.
Beaming at her charge, the lady's maid, said, "I will take good care of Miss Victoria, Mr. Crawley." Then she took hold of her hand and led her upstairs to attend to her.
Victoria safe and sound, Matthew headed for the library for the second time that day to retrieve the letters on his desk and bring then to Mary, who he assumed by now was piqued that he was taking so long.
He quickly found his assertion had been correct when he entered their bedroom with the sealed envelopes in hand and found Mary glowering at him from across the room.
"What on earth took you so long?" she demanded. "I was beginning to worry in spite of your assurances," she continued as she rose from the window seat she had been perched on and headed toward him. "You said you would join me shortly, Matthew. That was more than an hour ago."
"I'm sorry, darling. It was not my intention to be so long but Victoria had a mishap and…."
Mary's eyes widened and she headed for the door in an instant, cutting him off with, "Where is she?"
Blocking her path, he replied, "Darling, she is fine. At the moment she is taking a bath. I sent her off with Miss Baxter to get bathed and changed. Victoria didn't want you to see her in her disheveled state."
"Disheveled state? Mary exclaimed. "Why on earth would our daughter be in a disheveled state? She looked perfectly fine when she left the house with Papa. I need you to tell me exactly what happened, Matthew…Now."
"Of course, darling…but I would rather speak to you about Victoria as well as address this correspondence…," he said waiving the two envelopes in front of her, "…seated comfortably beside you instead of standing guard over this door."
After a long moment, Mary sighed, "Yes, alright. We can sit anywhere you please, but please get on with it."
Moving away from his post, Matthew strode over to their bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, placing the missives in his hand to his right and patting the spot to his left invitingly. As soon as Mary joined him, he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"Better?" he asked, lowering their joined hands to the bed.
Mary nodded, her eyes fixed on his as she awaited his explanation.
"I could relay every detail of what transpired from the moment I left you until I brought our daughter home, but I think it better that I cut to the chase," he said, and smiled, realizing his impromptu pun. To wit, I was summoned to the Jackson Daws Castle, where our brave but misguided girl had decided that the only way to save a wild rabbit's life was by inserting herself between it and Horus, who was none too pleased by her interference."
At that Mary's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
"Remember, darling, she is fine," he said, reaching for her hand. "She has a few light scratches on her legs, which I have examined thoroughly and am certain will leave no lasting marks. Her dress, however, didn't fair as well. I'm not at all sure the grass and ground dirt stains can be washed out, even though I assured Victoria they could be as she was worried that you would be cross with her. After her ordeal, I didn't have the heart to tell her the dress would likely have to be chucked."
Hearing her husband's explanation, Mary remained frozen in place, speechless for a long moment as she processed what she had just heard, no doubt visualizing the scene that Matthew had come upon. A shiver ran down her spine and she blinked, shaking her head in an apparent effort to erase the vision of Victoria facing down the large Labrador, likely half out of his wits with blood lust.
Matthew assured her once more, "She is fine, darling. I told her that I would smooth things over with you and we would come to see her in her room once she was spruced up.
Mary sighed, "Thank God she is not seriously hurt, Matthew. I shudder to think of what could have happened. Whatever possessed her to do such a thing? Horus could have….," she began and stopped speaking, shaking her head back and forth.
Matthew interjected, "She didn't think she would be in danger, Mary, and I fear I am partially to blame for that. In the stories I've read to her, the animals live in harmony. None of them maim or kill the other. They share their food… Some of them even have tea parties. This is the first glimpse Victoria has had of the natural order of life in the animal kingdom. Unfortunately, she learned a hard fact the hard way today."
She insisted he not blame himself, reasoning that no-one could have predicted what had happened.
"I will not allow you to feel guilty, darling," Mary said in a tone that made it clear she would brook no argument. The only thing we both should be feeling right now is relief and gratitude. The rest will bring us down and there is no point in that, she said pragmatically. "Now, what do you say, we change the subject and you pass me that envelope at your side with my name on it."
Matthew was happy to do so as he would finally have an answer to the question that had boggled his mind since the letters arrived. Still he lifted the envelope addressed to Mary from the bed as though it weighed more than he did and handed it to her with apprehension marking his handsome features.
"What is it?" she asked. "What is troubling you?"
"I'm thinking of Robert," he replied. "He was in a foul mood when he left the house with Horus. I fear Victoria's escapade has made it worse…and now he has your grandmother's machinations to contend with."
"My grandmother? What has Granny been up to now?" she sighed as she pried open the envelope in her lap.
"Not Violet…," Matthew began, "….though I can't be certain that she isn't plotting something, too; Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time. As far as I know, however, the root of your father's agitation, and to be frank, my own, is your American grandmother." Pointing to the sheaf of paper Mary now held in her hands, he continued, "As you will soon discover, it is Martha Levinson who has been stirring the pot."
Mary frowned, "The envelope states I must read this in private, darling. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must ask you to leave."
"I know it does," he spat. I have read the cursed instruction at least 10 times in the last day." Then he said with a sardonic tone in his voice, "Do you think your grandmother would mind if we were in the same room together while you did so? I can move to the window seat and bird watch."
She rolled her eyes, "I'm sure that would be fine, Matthew," before she gave him a light swat on his rump and added, "Off with you then. It appears we've got another envelope to open together after I read this letter, and I must admit my curiosity is getting the better of me."
Raising the missive to eye level, she focused on the first line and instantly heard her grandmother's voice inside her head, the American accent as grating as ever and as clear as if she were sitting beside her.
My Dearest Mary,
I would begin by saying I'm sorry for the all the cloak and dagger but the truth is, I'm not, and you know I'm a stickler for telling it like it is. Having said that, I do hope that the plan I'm proposing, which I feel certain you will agree to by the time you reach the end of this letter, won't cause you too much grief. You are undeserving of it, and should you receive any from the Crawleys, I expect you to stand firm and remind them that Lady Mary suffers no fools.
That is why I've chosen you, my dear girl. Your spirit and strength do you proud. Well, that, and because you have always been my favorite granddaughter…though I ask you do not share that with Edith. I love her, too; just not as much. In fact, I would like you to keep my plan under wraps until you and Matthew decide whether or not to accept my proposition.
On that note, I guess now is as good a time as ever to explain why I've set these wheels in motion. There is no way to sugar coat it, so I'll just say it - I'm dying Mary.
I learned quite recently that I have terminal cancer. My diagnosis was confirmed by three top notch doctors, so I have no doubt that what they tell me is true. Each has also advised me that I likely will not see Christmas. I'm hoping to prove them wrong on that one as I know for a fact that your Uncle Harold is going to give me the diamond necklace I've been drooling over at Tiffany's for months as my gift this year and I'd like to wear it while my body is still warm. Sorry, I digress. Now where was I? Ahh…yes…my request.
What I would like is for you and Matthew and your precious children to spend my 85th birthday here with me in Newport. Harold has planned a lavish party, including a spectacular fireworks display by Grucci, and a week of fun-filled activities on shore and off for my guests that have been invited to stay on after the party.
Rest assured this trip will not feel like an errand of mercy, Mary. You will be traveling like royalty from start to finish on my dime, including the expense to bring one of your servants along with you, and Newport is absolutely beautiful this time of year.
I've scheduled five days for your family to spend with me and then made arrangements for you to travel on to Chicago to attend the World's Fair, which I'm sure the children will love.
Have you closed your mouth yet, my darling girl? I know you must think I've gone completely off my rocker, but I assure you that is not the case. I just want to spend my last birthday with my family, and sadly my travelling days are far behind me.
As for the cost of this excursion, please do not fret about it. At your uncle's suggestion, I invested some money, though no where near the massive amount he did, in a Hollywood film that was produced by a close friend of his, called "King Kong". In case you haven't heard of it, it is about a gigantic ape discovered on some remote island that is captured and brought to New York City. The big gorilla causes a whole lot of trouble before he winds up climbing the Empire State building with a beautiful, half naked young woman in his hand and…Well, I think I better stop there as I wouldn't want to spoil the ending for you. Though I admit the plot sounds ridiculous, the movie made so much money that it saved RKO from going bankrupt. I'll tell you more details when I see you, but the bottom line is Harold has more money than he could spend in two lifetimes and I'm flush with cash, too. Though I wouldn't say the cost of your passage was chump change, it only put a small dent in the return I received on my investment.
Right about now, I would imagine you are asking yourself why I have invited you and not your mother. That is a fair question, and I'll do my best to explain why I haven't. If Cora caught wind that I was not long for this earth, she would come to Newport to take care of me. I know my daughter well, Mary. Despite our ups and downs over the years, she loves me as much as I love her and would feel compelled to nurse me until I took my last breath…and that would make my final days unbearable.
I don't want my girl to see me waste away or hear me cry out in pain when this nasty disease rears its ugly head. I want your mother to remember me as she saw me last at Edith's wedding - downing a glass of champagne and cutting a rug with Evelyn, who I found to be a surprisingly good dancer. He truly is quite a catch. Though, of course, he can't light a candle to Matthew. No man can. Those eyes!
I think that covers it all. No-one will know that I'm skating on thin ice until I've fallen through it. We will spend a marvelous week together and I'll get to know my great grandchildren in more than a photograph.
You must come, Mary. I know you have a kind heart in spite of the facade you present to the world. Otherwise, Matthew would not worship the ground you walk on as he does.
Now, you can share my invitation with that dreamy husband of yours, but nothing else. I haven't decided yet if I will tell him the Grim Reaper will be paying me a visit soon. Honestly, I wouldn't have told you if I could have been sure you would have come without knowing.
I'll end this here as I'm sure you and Matthew are anxious to find what that third envelope contains. I think you will be quite pleased once you do.
With all my love,
Grandma Levinson
P.S. Fourteen years have passed since I received a letter from you letting me know you had broken your engagement to Richard Carlisle and asking that I put you up for a while as the lout might cause you some trouble. I didn't get a chance then to tell you that I would be thrilled to have you visit, as shortly thereafter I received another letter stating you were set to marry Matthew. You do work fast, my dear.
Bottom line - You owe me a visit.
By the time she got to the last line of the letter, Mary's eyes were welled with tears. She dabbed at them before folding it and stuffing it back into the envelope with her name on it.
"I'm done, darling," she said in as normal a tone of voice as she could muster.
Matthew leapt from the window seat and hurried to the bed, where he promptly lifted the remaining envelope, tore it open, and emptied the contents on the bed.
His eyes were drawn quickly to the boarding passes that now lay between him and Mary, an image of a swallow-tailed red pennant that contained a white star with five points in its center and "White Star Line" in tall letters below it. Then his eyes widened as he read R.M.S. Olympic in bold red lettering across the face of the tickets.
"Good God! She has booked passage for us to sail to America," Matthew cried out, clearly flabbergasted.
"Not just passage, Matthew. Grandmother Levinson never was one to skimp," Mary said nonchalantly. "Those are tickets for a parlor suite. They must have cost her a small fortune."
"Well, I hope they are refundable," Matthew said crossly. "What on earth possessed her to do such a thing without consulting us first? Whatever could she have been thinking?"
Mary sighed, "I would imagine she was thinking that she is turning 85 year's in a few weeks and would like to spend some time with her family before it is too late to do so," she replied.
Matthew cocked his head and stared at her for a long moment before he asked, "You aren't seriously considering going, are you?"
She paused a moment, took a deep breath and replied, "Actually, I am, Matthew, and I'd like you to consider it, too. I think it is important that we do."
Honoring her grandmother's wish that her illness remain a secret, Mary launched into other reasons why she thought Martha's invitation should be accepted.
"Darling, she is paying for the entire trip, not only the crossing but transportation from Newport to Chicago and lodging there so that we can attend the World's Fair. Just think of how the children would benefit from the experience."
Matthew could not deny they would, yet he still was reeling from the shock of it all. Perhaps if they had more time to mull it over, but as it was, Martha barely gave them enough time to pack.
"For pity's sake, this is one of our busiest times of year, Mary. What about Downton? Who would fill not only my shoes but yours while we were gone?"
She countered quickly, "Papa would step up to the plate. You know how much he misses being in charge around here. Between him and Tom, I think the estate would run just fine without us for a few weeks."
Not as convinced as his wife, Matthew cautioned, "I think we must ask your father first before assuming he would welcome the work. He isn't as spry as he used to be. As for Tom, I know he will tell us to go with his blessing…and I have no doubt he is up to the task of running the place for a few weeks without us….But why? Why do you want to go? You never showed any interest in visiting Martha before."
Shoving the envelope and its contents out of the way and edging closer to him on the bed, Mary replied flatly, "She never asked before…and I doubt she would now if she didn't have a good reason. Please, Matthew, consider how she must feel so far away from her family and unable to travel to see them. Put yourself in her shoes."
He did then, and for the first time since he learned of Martha Levinson's plan, felt a bit of sympathy for the woman. As he softened over her predicament, he felt a familiar hand resting on his leg, which altered his train of thought considerably.
"Just think of the moonlit strolls we'll take on deck, hand in hand under a cavalcade of stars. It would be like a second honeymoon, darling" Mary purred as she ran her hand up and down the length of his thigh.
That did the trick. Any further objections along with logic flew out the window as memories of their first honeymoon filled his mind. He was putty in Mary's hands. He knew it and she knew it.
"Alright then," he sighed in defeat. "As long as your father is willing to take up the reigns and Tom does feel he can handle the extra load, I'm in."
Mary smiled and moved so close that he could feel her warm breath on his neck.
"I think we have about a half hour before Miss Baxter is done with Victoria, darling. What would you say to our practicing what we'll do on that second honeymoon to ensure it will measure up our first?" she whispered.
Matthew pulled her onto his lap and bringing her hand around his neck, replied, "I'd say practice makes perfect."
XX
The setting for the Crawley's family meeting was tranquil. The drawing room was alight with the rays of sun that streamed into the room and the air filled with the sweet scent of spring flowers, courtesy of one large vase bursting with pink, white and rose-colored peonies and another filled with blue hydrangeas. Yet, as the conversation in the room progressed, the atmosphere was anything but serene.
Mary sat in a wing chair near the massive fireplace in the drawing room with her hands crossed in her lap and eyes fixed on the vein on the side of her father's neck, which had been pulsing like a jackhammer for the last five minutes. That in itself was cause for concern, but adding to her apprehension, she observed that his face had turned an ugly shade of scarlet as he waived the White Star boarding passes in the air while glowering at her mother.
"This….this…," he cried out, his voice hoarse as he had been ranting and raving for the last 10 minutes, "This has got to be the most heavy-handed maneuvering that your Mother has ever come up with….How dare she!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Papa, please calm down," Mary pleaded. "You will have an apoplexy if you keep going on like this."
Matthew thought so as well and though he would have rather not insert himself between Mary and her raging father, he knew the time had come. Robert's health was in jeopardy and his mother-in-law was fading fast under her husband's onslaught.
He had known the reason Robert had requested that he and Mary join him and Cora in the drawing room as soon as they were summoned and had no doubt that fireworks would ensue once Martha Levinson's plan was revealed. Yet the scene before him surpassed even his worst imaginings. He would have to dive in and blast the consequences.
"Robert, Mary is right," he cut in. "Your face is as red as a beet and you must be aware that losing your temper this way will aggravate your ulcer."
His interference earned him a glare from his father-in-law so intense that he felt himself shrink back in his seat. Realizing he had, he forced himself to sit upright. This just won't do. If he is making me cower and I've faced the Huns, I can only imagine what poor Cora is going through.
Mary was clearly terrified that her father would collapse and he found Cora's face was contorted with fear over what would come next. He had seen that look before during the war when he and William had stumbled into a camp where a deserter was about to be executed. The poor young man, still in his teens by the looks of him, was convulsing violently as he was tied up from head to toe like a sausage by his erstwhile comrades in arms, who then had proceeded to wind a thick bandage around his face. He had caught a glimpse of the soldier's eyes before they were covered and would never forget the abject terror he found here. He hated seeing it now in the eyes of someone he loved.
His own remained locked on his mother-in-law's as he heard the execution command ring out in his mind.
Ready...Aim…
"…I blame you for this, Cora, Robert fired. "You allowed your mother to take over our house, promenade around Downton like a peacock while making one vulgar joke after another at our expense, as well as the servant's. She was an embarrassment…an affront to our entire family…and I suffered her obnoxious behavior because she brought you into my life. Now this!" he bellowed, waving the boarding passes in the air for at least the fourth time before ripping his spectacles from his face and slapping them down hard on the end table beside the sofa.
Matthew marveled at Cora's strength as he saw her take a deep intake of breath and adjust her posture, stretching her body upward until her spine was perfectly straight. Then she raised her chin high, cleared her throat, and shot back, "Now see here, Robert. I can understand your being upset by my mother's plan for Mary and her family to go to America but there is no need to bite my head off. I knew nothing of it until now…and I certainly would not have suggested the trip, knowing how it would upset you…especially since she has them booked on the Olympic …"
Hearing the name of the ship, Robert cut his wife off, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he thanked her for reminding him of the ship her mother had chosen.
"You see, Martha hasn't just chosen any ship for my family to cross the Atlantic. The Olympic is a sister ship to the Titanic, nearly identical in every detail to the liner that went down on its maiden voyage with my beloved cousins and heirs on board and houses their remains at the bottom of the ocean; that is unless they have become fodder for sharks."
At that Matthew winced and he saw that Cora's face, pale to this point, had taken on an ugly green tinge
No matter, the Earl continued, "It is unimaginable to me that any one with a shred of decency would contemplate such a course of action. Martha cannot have forgotten that James and Patrick were lost on that voyage. Yet she still had the audacity to book passage for not only my daughter and granddaughter, but my two remaining heirs," he roared and then leaned his head against the mantle of the fireplace.
Cora implored Robert to give her mother the benefit of the doubt, insisting that Martha's intent in booking passage for Mary and her family to visit her in America was meant to cause him pain.
"I grant you that my mother is flamboyant, but I have never found her to be cruel, Robert. She likely chose the Olympic because she knows the liner will be pulled from service before long, and from what I have heard, it is quite grand."
Robert moved his head slowly away from the mantle and gazed wearily at his wife. After a long moment, he sighed, "Can you possibly be that naïve, Cora? While we sit here bickering, I have no doubt that Martha Levinson is having a cocktail in Newport and a good laugh. The woman is….she is…"
Mary cut him short by jumping to her feet and finishing her father's sentence with, "…your wife's mother and my grandmother, Papa. Can you hear yourself? You would not stand for any of us disparaging Granny the way you have Grandmother Levinson for these past twenty minutes, and you well know it." she said in a tone that brooked no argument. Then she took a deep breath and continued, "Now, since it is I, my husband, and our children that have been invited to take this trip, I suggest you allow me and Matthew to decide what is best for our family. I am sorry if you are offended by Grandmother Levinson's choice of liners. Truly, I am. However, I agree with Mama that she did not do so with malice. She may be vulgar at times but I have never found her to be mean-spirited. In fact, you may recall that she opened her home to me when I broke my engagement to Richard Carlisle so that I might avoid the repercussions of my decision."
Matthew felt pride rising up in him as Mary stood her ground. You've met your match, Robert, he thought, sinking back into his chair and crossing his legs. If I were you, I'd retreat while you still have the chance to do so."
A minute later, the head of the Crawley family did just that. Clearly exhausted and by no means ignorant of his eldest daughter's keen mind and strong will, he moved from the fireplace and fell into the empty seat next to his wife.
Cora let out a sigh of relief, clearly grateful that the proceedings had come to an end and smiled broadly at her eldest daughter, who now had taken the position her father had previously held at the fireplace.
"Papa, please be reasonable," Mary pleaded, her voice soft but firm. "You must know that the Olympic has crossed the Atlantic hundreds of times without incident since the Titanic sank, and there is no reason to believe this trip will be any different. Grandmother Levinson has spared no expense in booking accommodations on a luxurious ocean liner for my family in order that we may attend her 85th birthday party in Newport, which will no doubt be quite a grand affair. She has also arranged transportation for us to travel to Chicago along with lodging at a 5 star hotel so that we can attend the World's Fair there. It all sounds quite exciting. You have to admit that?"
At that, Matthew took in the look of defeat on his father-in-law's face and knew Mary had won. All the bluster was gone now, replaced by a weariness that he saw was bone deep. He had seen that look at the Front, too, on the faces of soldiers who had given their all, but found it wasn't quite good enough in the end. It hurt him now to see that look on the face of someone he loved. Yet, he reminded himself, Robert had fired the first shot.
The Earl of Grantham rolled his eyes,"Oh, I'm sure it would be that." Then he asked, "Does that mean you have made your decision?"
Seeing Mary reaching out her hand to him, Matthew rose and strolled across the room to join her at the fireplace. Once there, he held it in solidarity and breathed in deeply as he waited for the first shoe to drop.
"Yes, Papa, but it has not been my decision, alone. Matthew and I have discussed this matter at great length and decided that we will honor Grandmother Levinson's request."
Then the second shoe hit the ground as she informed them of how soon they would be leaving.
"We will be departing from Southampton on May 11th and returning June 10th, if all goes as planned."
She let go of him then and strolled across the room until she reached her father, who had still not recovered from the news of their departure date.
"My hope is that you and Mama will be among the well wishers on the dock that will be waving madly at us while shouting Bon Voyage. I know she will be there it but can I count on you, Papa?"
After a long moment, the Earl of Grantham rose from his seat and pulled his daughter into an embrace.
Then he stepped back so that they could face one another and replied, "You can always count on me, Mary, whether I agree with you or not."
At that Matthew began to relax as the worst truly was over. All that was left now was to iron out the details of how Robert would assist Tom with the management of the estate in their absence and he could leave that to his wife. He and Mary had discussed the details before the meeting and she had a firm grasp on what needed to be done.
Taking note that Cora, too, appeared much calmer and no longer required his attention, his mind analyzed what had just taken place. Robert did over-react to the situation at hand and blaming Cora for any of it was ridiculous as she had played no part in Martha's machinations. Yet he could not deny that his father-in-law had every right to be upset that after having lost two heirs when they traveled together, his mother-in-law had now placed the two that remained in the exact same situation. .
He wasn't a superstitious man. Well, not very, he amended. He had, after all, kept that stuffed dog Mary had sent him off to war with in the glove compartment of his car for quite some time after he had returned to Downton. In fact, he still hadn't parted with it.
Hearing Mary and Robert's conversation winding down, he couldn't help but ask himself if he was tempting fate now. He was crossing the Atlantic with George just as James Crawley had done with his son Patrick on a ship identical in every way but her name. The thought made a shiver run down his spine.
"Matthew, everything is set," Mary said cheerfully, breaking him out of his musings. "I can't wait to see the look on George and Victoria's faces when we tell them the news."
The joy on his wife's face stripped away his anxiety and effectively put an end to his nonsensical thoughts. Her enthusiasm was catching and he took hold of her hand and smiled, "Neither can I, darling. Let's go find them."
XX
AN: I know there was a ridiculously long stretch between Chapter 1 and 2. Unfortunately, I had one misfortune after another to contend with since January in real life. In fact, right now, I'm just off using crutches as I twisted my knee so badly, I needed medication and physical therapy.
Yet, I am a firm believer in the old adage, "Better late than never!"
I promise it won't take so long for Chapter 3 to come your way, and it will be worth waiting for. Be prepared for Mary and Matthew have a big surprise in store for them when they board the Olympic.
"Passage" as well as all my other works is a mix of fact and fiction. Anything that doesn't pertain solely to any fictional characters created by Julian Fellowes or yours truly is a part of history. Dr. Henry Head and his wife Ruth are real and he was a neurologist at The London Hospital when Matthew was admitted there. Norman Hartnell, a famous designer in this time period. All ive written pertaining to him as his studio is true. The same applies to the Olympic My hope is you will delve further into the historical aspects of the story.
Till then, I hope you enjoy this installment and leave a comment. Reviews do motivate a writer to get down to it. I take a great deal of time to research my stories before I put pen to paper. Therefore, a brief comment from you makes my day. Also, please refer to anyone who loves Matthew and Mary and Downton in general.
msmenna