Passage – Chapter 3
The current and future Earl and Countess of Grantham sat in perfect harmony beneath the library's coffered wooden ceiling as they awaited Mr. Barrow to serve tea. The tranquil atmosphere in the room was the exact opposite of what it had been the last time the four Crawleys had gathered there.
That pleased Matthew to no end.
Comfortably seated in the Regency arm chair with one leg crossed over the other, he strummed his fingers on his thigh to a happy tune that filled his head while taking in the familial scene before him.
Robert was beaming at Victoria, now fully recovered from her ordeal with Horus and smiling broadly at her grandfather as the yo-yo that he had given to her the day after the rabbit incident snapped back into the palm of her hand.
Mary and Cora, sitting on the twin sofa directly across from the Earl, were in high spirits as they discussed the details of Tom and Catherine's upcoming nuptials. The bride's dress was exquisite, location of the service perfect and it was such a lovely time of year to wed.
George lay on his stomach on the floor in the middle of the room surrounded by broadsheets and pamphlets with his legs bent upward, crisscrossing in the air as he digested the plethora of information that had arrived from the White Star Line.
As Mary had predicted, the children were both thrilled to hear they were going to America, but especially George. Matthew wasn't surprised by that as his son's thirst for knowledge and adventurous spirit was evident at an early age.
Once the lad had learned they would not only be sailing to New York on a ship identical to the Titanic but attending the World's Fair, he could barely contain his excitement and had spoken of little else since.
"Well done, Victoria," the Earl exclaimed, his praise for his granddaughter's accomplishment reaching his wife and daughter's ears and eliciting their applause.
Matthew joined in and cleared his throat in an effort to get his son to follow suit but George was fixed on what he was reading, oblivious to his surroundings.
The sound, however, did catch Horus's attention and the dog bounded into the room. Taking quick notice of his young master's legs flopping back and forth, he headed straight for them. Then the canine proceeded to pounce into the open gap when they fell open and back when they began to close in what he clearly considered a new form of play.
Everyone in the room broke out into laughter at the dog's antics, especially Victoria who squealed with delight each time Horus jumped back in place, her high pitched howls succeeding where her father had failed in getting her brother's attention.
George turned and swatted the dog with a pile of folded broadsheets, but unfortunately this did not have the desired effect. It riled the canine even further and Horus began running furiously in circles around him, wreaking havoc with the leaflets under his feet.
His patience for the dog's shenanigans exhausted, George rose on his knees and began gathering the now crumpled broadsheets and stacking them neatly into a pile. Then he issued a series of commands to his pet in a stern tone until he came to a halt and calmly lay down beside him.
"Good boy, Horus," he said as he stroked his head, which now rested on his front paws.
After a minute or so, the canine's golden eyes began to close and George returned to his original position and the pamphlet he had been reading.
The others in the room also resumed what they were doing before the ruckus drew their attention. Mary and her mother moved on to discuss where Tom and Catherine would be living once they returned from their honeymoon, Victoria continued to play with her yo-yo under her grandfather's watchful eye and Matthew sat back comfortably in his seat and simply relaxed.
"I've told Tom numerous times that we would love for him and Catherine to live here once they are married but he doesn't seem keen on that arrangement," Cora said with a clear note of disappointment in her voice.
"I know, Mama," Mary replied in the same tone. "Tom has balked at the idea when I've brought it up, as well, in spite of my imploring him to stay put, if only for Sybbie's sake. After all, she has lived here since she was born. If Tom decides to leave Downton once Catherine and he tie the knot, he will be putting her in an awkward position. Will she resume living with us or leave when her father does?"
"I'd rather she not have to make that decision," Cora lamented. "As is, we will only have her with us for a couple of years before she heads off to Oxford."
Mary let out a long sigh and frowned, making it clear she felt the same way about Sybbie living elsewhere as her mother did. Then she caught sight of her daughter and father in her peripheral vision and broke into a smile. Victoria had managed to convince him to try his hand in mastering her yo-yo and it was a sight to see.
The Earl stood beside his granddaughter with the toy dangling in the air, his brow furrowed with lines of frustration as he tried to snap it back into his palm but couldn't manage it.
"No, Grandfather, that isn't how its done," Victoria said, shaking her head back and forth. "Uncle Tom said you must flip your wrist and then snap it back as soon as the cord unwinds."
Rolling his eyes, the patriarch of the Crawley family began winding the string around the groove between the red wooden discs, and spat, "I wasn't aware that your uncle was such expert in maneuvering this…this…Good grief, now the blasted cord has become knotted."
At that Victoria began to giggle at her grandfather's predicament, which led Matthew to rethink his remaining a silent observer.
"Do you need assistance, Robert?" he offered in as serious a tone as he could muster under the circumstances. "I have some experience," he added, doing his best to suppress his grin.
"Honestly, Papa," Mary interjected. "You need to have more patience."
Cora agreed with her daughter and added that she found her husband lacked that particular virtue more and more as he grew older, her comments drawing Robert from the problem literally at hand long enough to glare at her a few seconds before responding to his son-in-law's offer of assistance.
"Thank you, Matthew, but I think I can manage enough patience to untie a knot, even at my advanced age."
"I'm sure you can, Robert, but my offer stands" he replied, winking at Mary, who by the look on her face found the situation as amusing as he did.
Then the sound of George calling out his name brought his head around.
"Father, it says here that the Olympic served as a troopship during the Great War. She was painted grey, her portholes blocked and lights on deck turned off to make her less visible to the enemy."
Matthew was aware that the ship had been used but not much more; taking note of his son's exuberance, he asked him to provide him with further details.
George nodded and smiled broadly at him, clearly happy to comply with his request. Then he lowered his head and began reading out loud, "The ship was stripped of its peacetime fittings and armed with 12-pounders and 4.7 inch guns. Under the command of Bertram Fox Hayes, she left Liverpool carrying 6,000 soldiers to Mudros for the Gallipoli Campaign. On October 1st, 1915, lifeboats from the French ship Provincia, which had been sunk by a German U-boat, were sighted and 34 survivors rescued. The French awarded Hayes with the Gold Medal of Honour."
"Very impressive," Matthew exclaimed. "Go on, Son. I'm sure there is more,"
"Oh, there is," the boy replied quickly, then resumed reading where he had left off.
"In May, 1918 while headed for France with U.S. troops she sighted a surfaced U-Boat ahead and opened fire at once before turning and ramming the submarine and scuttling it. Some American soldiers on board paid for a plaque to be placed on one of the Olympic's lounges to commemorate the event."
"It likely will still be there, George. I'd like to see it, wouldn't you?"
Raising his head, George gushed, "Yes, Sir, I surely would," before returning to the page and ending with, "During the war, Olympic is reported to have carried up to 201,000 troops and other personnel, burning 347,000 tons of coal and travelling about 184,000 miles. Her impressive war service earned her the nickname Old Reliable."
"It seems the Olympic has had quite an extensive run, George. Did the White Star Line send you any more recent information? I think your grandfather would be interested in the modifications that were made to the ship after the Titanic sank. I'm sure there will be some mention of that."
"I'm going to look into that right now, Father." George said in a businesslike manner as he rose from the floor and began gathering the literature scattered about. "However, I think it is best that I do so in my room. Thomas…I mean Mr. Barrow…should be arriving with tea soon and I wouldn't want him to trip over me or Horus and scald someone."
Despite the comical scene his son had planted in his head, he replied, "Very good, Son. I'm sure that Mr. Barrow will appreciate your consideration as much as we all do. Perhaps we can discuss your findings in your room after tea. I'm sure by then you will have much more information to share."
George nodded, "No doubt, Sir." Then he turned to Horus and called out, "Let's go, boy," before excusing himself and heading out of the room with the dog on his heels.
Once Horus's wagging tail was out of sight, Matthew turned and smiled broadly at Mary, finding her own face alight with amusement. His attention was diverted then to Mr. Barrow, who arrived as if on cue with a steaming pot of hot tea and even more steaming Dowager Countess in tow.
Edging the butler out of the way with her cane, Violet Crawley demanded, "Is it true that Mary and Matthew have been summoned to Newport by Cora's mother?"
XX
Matthew shifted in his seat, no longer finding it comfortable or able to relax as Mary's grandmother made her feelings regarding Martha Levinson's invitation known.
"Granny, we weren't summoned to go to America," Mary retorted, her cheeks turning crimson. We were invited to visit my grandmother in Newport for a week and then to attend the Worlds Fair in Chicago - at her expense, incidentally. Now you mustn't get Papa riled up again when he has finally accepted that we are going".
Sitting in her customary wing chair with her hands resting on her cane should she need it, the Dowager shot back, "Riled up again? I gather from your remark that my son is also not keen on this trip. Well, far be it from me to upset Robert as his health is paramount to me…but I must say that I find it shocking that he has agreed to such a…such an ill conceived plan. As I understand it, you, Matthew and your children are to put your lives on hold and traipse across the Atlantic at a moment's notice because Martha Levinson would like a visit. Clearly she did not take into account that you and your husband have duties here at Downton. Who will fulfill them in your absence?"
"That would be me and Robert," rang out from across the room as Tom made his way into the library and headed for the table that held the tea service.
"Uncle Tom….you're back!" Victoria cried out, taking off in his direction at a rapid pace.
Matthew let out a sigh of relief as his brother-in-law managed to forestall an imminent collision by getting hold of the child's shoulders before she crashed into him.
"Whoa….slow down, little lady," Tom bellowed. "I'm glad you are happy to see me, Victoria, but I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
Mary laid her teacup on the end table and chimed in, "Darling, please remember what I told you about running in confined spaces. It is dangerous."
Dangerous indeed, Matthew thought. It had only been last week that Victoria wound up with a bloody lip as a result of her chasing Horus into the drawing room and tripping over a scatter rug. He was about to remind her of the incident, but seeing the downtrodden expression on her face, he didn't have the heart to.
It quickly became clear that Tom, too, thought no further admonishment necessary as he playfully tugged on Victoria's braid and smiled, "Yes, I am back from picking your cousin up from the train station and she is waiting for you in her room at this very moment to give you a present from your Aunt Edith."
Making a mental note to thank Tom, Matthew smiled as he saw Victoria's blue eyes widen with delight, her entire demeanor changed for the better.
"A present for me?" she sputtered excitedly. Are you sure, Uncle Tom? My birthday isn't until October."
Matthew looked to Mary to see if she knew anything about Edith's gift, but she shook her head back and forth and shrugged.
Tom rubbed his hand over his chin in mock concentration before he replied, "I'm pretty sure that is what Sybbie said." Then after a brief pause, he smiled, "In fact, now that I think about it, she also mentioned your favorite cartoon character."
"Mickey!" Victoria screeched, bouncing in place. "Aunt Edith knows how much I enjoy Mickey Mouse and…and…I must go to cousin Sybbie right now. I can't wait to see what my gift is."
At that moment, his daughter reminded Matthew of a thoroughbred awaiting the gate to open in the Derby, and he felt certain that if he didn't say something to curb Victoria's exuberance, she would take off at a gallop despite her mother's wishes.
After giving Mary a look that said I'll take care of it and her acknowledging that he would with a nod, he rose from his seat and joined his daughter and Tom, planting himself close enough to Victoria to be able to take hold of her arm in the event she decided to bolt.
"Sweetheart, you may leave now to join your cousin but not until you promise me that you will walk, not run, to her room…and that includes taking the stairs one step at a time. Do I have your word that you will do as I ask?"
Victoria rocked back on her heels and smiled, "Yes, Father. You have my word that I will follow your and… Mother's wishes," she said, turning her head in Mary's direction.
"That's my girl," Matthew smiled, and moved out of her way.
Tom stepped off to the side, too, and urged, "Off with you then. Your cousin is likely wondering what is taking you so long."
At that, Victoria rose on her toes and planted a kiss on her father's cheek. Then she set off at as quick a pace as could still be considered walking, her arms swinging at her sides as though she were marching in a parade.
Once she reached the edge of the library, she turned her head and exclaimed, "I almost forgot…Uncle Tom, Grandfather is having great difficulty getting my yo-yo to work properly for him. I would greatly appreciate it if you would give him a few lessons."
Tom suppressed his laughter long enough to reply, "Of course, I will, Victoria. Your grandfather will be a yo-yo master once I'm done with him."
"Thank you, Uncle Tom. I'm that pleased to hear it," she said, borrowing one of her uncle's favorite phrases before she turned and took a giant step toward her destination.
As Tom chuckled, all eyes fixed on Robert, who stood with the dangling yo-yo in hand and a look of exasperation on his face.
"Yo-Yo master," he spat before tossing the toy, tangled string and all like a hot potato onto the Persian carpet. First I'm addressed as Donk by Sybbie and now Victoria will be calling me a Yo-Yo Master," he bemoaned before falling into his seat with a thump.
The room burst into laughter, even the Dowager finding she couldn't contain her amusement, although she did her best to hide her guffaws by covering her mouth with her handkerchief.
Seeing the Earl's face grow redder by the second, Matthew took the lead in curbing his joviality and the others soon followed suit until no sound was heard in the library.
It didn't remain that way for long, however, as Violet Crawley regained her composure and proclaimed, "I have a bad feeling about this trip. It is foolhardy for my son's only remaining heirs to sail to America together on a ship identical to the one that took the lives of their predecessors."
Robert sighed, clearly unconvinced that his mother was not making sense and Mary threw her hands in the air.
"There is no reason for any one to worry," cut through the air in Matthew's calm, reassuring voice. Changes have been made to the Olympic to correct the Titanic's flaws and the ship has made hundreds of crossings without incident. We will be perfectly safe."
"He is right," Tom chimed in. My Cousin Margaret's husband Liam worked on the modifications to the Olympic in Belfast when it was pulled from service after the Titanic was lost. He told me that the lifeboats were increased threefold and watertight bulkheads extended to the entire hull of the ship. Every flaw in the ship's original design that resulted in the Titanic sinking has been corrected."
Matthew smiled at Tom and gestured for him to continue.
Picking up on his brother-in-law's cue, he added, "And Liam has worked on her twice since then - first when she returned from her stint as a troop ship during the war to ensure she was in tip-top shape before returning to passenger service and again a year and a half ago when she was overhauled in order to compete with the newer vessels. From what he has told me, the ship is not only sound but quite grand."
Grateful that Tom had made his argument for him, Matthew thanked him for doing so before addressing Mary's grandmother.
"That settles it, then. The Olympic is clearly safe to travel on. Besides, what are the odds of two identical ships meeting the same tragic end while carrying a set of Robert's heirs?"
The Dowager Countess leaned forward on her cane and countered, "What are the odds of someone driving less than five miles on a familiar road in broad daylight and winding up in an embankment beneath their overturned vehicle with no heartbeat until they come awake in a morgue?"
Matthew let out a long sigh. Touché, Violet.
XX
He decided to leave the Dowager's stinging retort unanswered and returned to his chair, falling into it with the same thump of defeat that his father-in-law had managed in what seemed hours ago but was mere minutes. He looked to Mary then, his eyes pleading with her to take up the gauntlet on his behalf.
She thankfully was up to the task and Matthew beamed at her as she held her own and then some in dealing with her grandmother's questions and sarcasm.
"Honestly, Granny, you are incorrigible," Mary cried out after Violet made another snide remark about her American counterpart.
"I have known she is a woman of means, but how is she affording this extravaganza? Does the Great Depression not extend to America? The stories I've read in the papers and photographs that accompany them tell sad tales of once affluent people jumping out of windows because they have lost their fortunes. There are long soup lines and unfortunates living on the street without any means of support. Did Martha's late husband leave her in such a comfortable position that her wealth was not diminished by the stock market crashing and the ripples that followed?"
Mary replied flatly, "I have no doubt she was, but she is not paying for our passage with any money from her inheritance. Uncle Harold convinced her to invest in a motion picture that he co-produced that wound up being a huge success. Both he and my grandmother reaped a very high return on their investment."
Violet balked, "Are you saying that she garnered enough money from her involvement with this…this motion picture to enable her to afford your traveling to America like royalty?"
"Yes, Granny, that is exactly what I'm saying," Mary replied, setting down her cup of tea.
Violet blinked, clearly astonished by her granddaughter's response. Then she insisted that she be provided with details.
"A giant ape?" Violet repeated for the second time with no small amount of incredulity in her voice. "This highly successful motion picture that Harold spearheaded was about a giant ape that climbs to the top of the Empire State Building?"
Mary nodded, rounded her shoulders and sat erect in her seat, readying herself for her grandmother's next caustic remark.
"Well, I guess I should not be surprised that Americans would find such pulp enjoyable. One can only wonder who will star in your uncle's next venture. Perhaps he will showcase a behemoth sized snake that can wrap itself around the Washington Monument…or should Harold decide to move the location of his next riveting tale across the Atlantic, the creature could slither up Big Ben or the Eiffel Tower."
Matthew covered his mouth to stifle the laugh he felt rising in his throat. Though his wife was quite witty, she still could learn a thing of two from Violet Crawley when it came to sarcasm.
"I don't see how my mother is paying for this trip is any of your business," Cora interjected, her soft voice nearly a whisper but annoyance with her mother-in-law's meddling coming across loud and clear.
Cora had remained so quiet since Violet had arrived that although she sat directly next to Mary, Matthew almost had forgotten she was there.
"Furthermore…," the Countess continued,"… my brother Harold's success is something to herald, not mock. I cannot fathom why you believe it is your right to disparage him in this manner."
"Now, now, Cora, I'm sure Mama did not mean to discredit Harold or his success," Robert said in what was clearly an attempt to ward off an argument between his mother and wife.
Planting her cane a short distance ahead of her, the Dowager balanced herself on it as she rose from her seat and made ready to leave.
"No…No…Robert. Cora is correct in that her brother's business is none of mine. I will give her that," she said as she crossed the room.
The men, now on their feet, gave each other a look that said You know it isn't going to be that simple.
They were proven right upon Violet reaching Matthew as she stopped in her tracks and turned her head to give her daughter-in-law a parting shot.
"It is, however, my business, Cora, when the lives of those who share my blood are upended because your mother longs for a family reunion." she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "As for Harold..," she added, waving her free hand in the air,"…I could care less if the star of his next production is the Loch Ness Monster. Both he and your mother epitomize everything I find wrong with Americans. I'll leave it at that."
Matthew saw Tom's eyes widen and he smiled, remembering the conversation they had regarding the legendary creature in the dining room the day Martha's letters had arrived.
Then his attention returned to Violet, who he found swept passed him quite quickly for someone her age using a cane.
In her wake, Cora sat with her mouth agape and Mary rolled her eyes. Then Robert sprang from his seat and excused himself, muttering that he had better see his mother out.
Not for the first time, Matthew internally debated whether or not he should thank Martha Levinson for her generosity or blast the woman for the turmoil her invitation had created at Downton.
"That woman…," his mother-in-law managed through now clenched teeth. "She is…she is…"
Predictable," Mary cried out. "Come now, Mama. You had to see that coming. No matter how much has changed in our lives in the last two decades, Granny's meddling has been a constant. She simply must have her say no matter if her opinion is welcome or not."
Cora sighed, "You would think after all these years that I would be used to her sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. Yet her interference still makes my hair stand on end."
"I think that is the icing on the cake for Granny, Mama. She gets her point across and rattles you at the same time."
Matthew couldn't help but chuckle at his wife's supposition as it was spot on but he squelched his amusement quickly when he caught sight of his mother-in-law scowling at him as she rose from her seat.
"It saddens me to say that you are likely right, Mary, and one day I'm going to find a way to deny Violet that satisfaction. Today is not that day, however, as my head is beginning to throb and I think it best that I retire to my room and relax with a cold compress on it. I sent Miss Baxter into the Village on an errand but she should be back any moment. I'll ask Barrow to send her to my room once she returns but if you should see her first, be a darling and tell her I need her."
"I'm sorry you aren't feeling well, Mama. I would be happy to go up with you and apply the compress."
"No, please stay, Mary. That won't be necessary," Cora said, waving her daughter off.
Guilt set in quickly once he learned his mother-in-law was in pain. As she reached him, he offered her his own well wishes for a speedy recovery along with an apology for his response to his wife's comment.
"Rest assured that I find no amusement in the Dowager vexing you, Cora. It was Mary's observation that caused me to chuckle as it rang true."
Thankfully, the Countess was not one to hold a grudge and she managed a smile in spite of her aching head, which remained in place when Tom told her that he hoped she would be fit as a fiddle in no time.
"Thank you, Tom, I'm sure I will be fine," Cora said, and headed for the stairs that led to the Gallery.
Once it was clear she was out of hearing range, Mary spat, "So much for a peaceful family gathering and cup of tea."
"I'm beginning to wonder if there will be any peace at all at Downton until we've returned from America, darling," Matthew said, returning to his seat and once more vacillating about Martha Levinson's invitation.
"You two are making the same mistake Cora does," Tom declared, joining his sister-in-law on the sofa. "The Dowager only has the power to ruffle someone's feathers because they give it to her. If the lot of you would just nod your heads when she goes off on a tangent and then continue to go about your business, she'd eventually get the message that you are going to live your lives the way you see fit no matter how much that displeases her."
"That is easier said than done, Tom," Mary replied. "Granny can be quite a formidable opponent."
"Don't treat her as one and there will be no battle to lose," the Irishman replied. "From what I've seen, Violet meddles for two reasons – first, she truly loves her family and wants to steer each member of it in the right direction…and if we are being honest, her advice is often right…and second, she needs to feel relevant, more so the older she gets. I don't think she feels she can remain silent and still be considered the matriarch of the Crawley family…and that she is determined to be until she takes her last breath."
It appears that my wife is not the only one beside me who possesses an analytical mind, Matthew concluded as he scrutinized Tom's assertions and found they had merit. He was impressed by the argument he had made, knowing it required a superior intellect as well as a healthy amount of common sense to formulate it. That was how he managed the estate with such aplomb.
"I agree with everything you've said, Tom, and must say that I am impressed by your powers of observation. I didn't realize you paid such close attention to Violet's behavior."
"Nor did I," Mary said, clearly taken aback by her brother-in-law's deduction. I'm not certain whether I'm more surprised that you felt inclined to analyze my grandmother or that you found the time to do so."
Tom smiled, "I felt it was important that I did once Sybil and I came clean about our relationship since she clearly was able to sway Robert's opinion on matters of importance."
He was silent then for a few moments, his eyes no longer focusing on any one or thing in the room as he became lost in his thoughts. "I was right, too. I think the Earl agreed to give us his blessing because his mother made him see sense. She knew we would marry with or without his permission though it would pain Sybil greatly should her father withhold it. Violet must have made a strong case for her granddaughter's happiness, and I found myself grateful that she meddled."
It dawned on Matthew that that wasn't the only time the Dowager's meddling had resulted in happiness for a man in love with one of her granddaughters and he set his sights on his wife.
Mary turned her head his way as though she could feel his stare and smiled broadly at him. It happened all the time, though he still could not fathom how she knew when he was looking at her. There certainly was no logical explanation for it.
Their eyes remained locked as he recounted Violet Crawley's unorthodox visit to his room in what seemed another lifetime. He was engaged at the time to Lavinia Swire and had just learned he was not paralyzed after all.
'Mary is still in love with you she had blurted, much to his surprise.
"She told me…and I'm paraphrasing now…that I would spend 40 or 50 years married to either you or Lavinia…may she rest in peace…and I should be sure I chose correctly."
Matthew paused then as the memory was filed back in the proper place in his mind then continued, "I'm not sure that I've ever thanked Violet for her meddling. Do you think it is too late, darling?"
Mary laughed, "I think she would love hearing how much you appreciated her words of wisdom, Matthew, and I must add that I am quite pleased to hear that you have."
Tom teased, "Well, you were quite dense back then, Matthew. It was as plain as the nose on your face that you and Mary belonged together. The Dowager just had the gumption to confront you about it."
Matthew shot back, "Just as she has had the gumption to confront you now with regard to your living arrangements after you and Catherine are married. It is my understanding that Violet, as well as Cora and Mary, have addressed this issue with you on more than one occasion, Tom. Yet you still have not provided any one with an answer as to why you are considering living elsewhere."
It was as though he had socked him. Tom's jaw dropped and he stiffened, clearly reluctant to address the question.
After a long moment, he composed himself and replied, "I'll have you know that I do have a good reason to not want to bring my wife and stepchild to live here. I just…it is not easy for me to explain it. That's all."
He was about to ask his brother-in-law what was troubling him, but Mary beat him to the punch, placing her hand on his shoulder and urging him to tell them what was wrong.
"You know that we will stand by any decision you make, Tom, she said reassuringly. We are just trying to understand why you wouldn't want your family to live in your home, because it is yours as much as it is ours. You do know that, don't you?"
Tom reached up and squeezed her hand, "Yes, Mary, I have felt Downton to be my home for a very long time now. That's not it. The reason I am reluctant to bring Catherine and Daniel here is not because I do not feel part of this family or this grand place."
"Then what is it?" Mary implored.
He paused again, his eyes glazing over and lips pressed tight for a long while before he cleared his throat and spurted, "Our wedding picture is still on my night stand…a photograph of Sybil and I on the day we were married, I mean. It has been there since she died…and although I do love Catherine and am looking forward to our life together, I have found I'm unable to move it. You understand, don't you, Mary?"
Her eyes welling with tears, she replied, "Yes, Tom, you know that I do."
Watching the scene before him, Matthew could feel his throat tighten and his own eyes begin to sting. Mary had told him that she kept their wedding photograph on her nightstand when she believed him dead and shared that it brought her comfort and grief in equal measures. He imagined Tom felt the same way.
"I sleep in the same room that my child was born in and wife died in…," Tom began, his voice cracking. "…although, Cora did insist the bed be replaced. She made up some story about the frame being cracked but I found nothing wrong with it. To her credit, Cora is not a very good liar. I think the real reason she got rid of it is that keeping it hurt too much and I can understand that. Yet…," he whispered and then stopped speaking.
Matthew rose and joined his wife and the man he had come to love as a brother on the sofa.
"Take your time, Tom. There is no rush…and rest assured that whatever you say will not be repeated to any one outside of this room."
Tom nodded, took a deep breath and then began, "I fell madly in love with the love of my life here… and for a short time she and I called it home. We welcomed our baby girl into the world in this house and shared the joy of having a healthy child for a few moments. Then Sybil was lost to us both. I cannot share this home with Catherine because as big Downton is, it isn't big enough. I will always think of this place as Sybil's legacy to me and Sybbie…I believe her spirit resides here…that she watches over us. I couldn't possibly share our home with any other woman. Not now. Not ever."
Matthew and Mary remained silent as Toms words sank in. Then he silently thanked God that his memory had returned and Mary had been spared their brother-in-law's pain the past 11 years. He reminded himself that they had been lucky and then concluded Tom had been, too. Though it took a long time, he did find love again, no matter if that love was different than what he had felt for Sybil. This was a second chance at happiness for both him and Catherine, and he was glad they took it, as he believed they would make a wonderful life for themselves and their children.
"We will help you find a place, Tom," Matthew said, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze. Together, the three of us will find a lovely home for you and your family, one that you and Catherine can call your own. I promise you that."
XX
Dinner was uneventful and quieter than usual since Cora's headache had not improved and she took a plate in her room. Robert had barely touched his meal before he excused himself to check on his wife's condition. Tom was absent, too, as he had taken Sybbie out to dinner at the Netherby, a nearby hotel that housed a lovely restaurant in order to glean where she stood on what had now become the great matter at Downton.
As the Earl's plate was cleared from the table, Matthew and Mary were the only two that remained in the dining room when the raspberry meringue pudding was served by Harriet. The two looked at the dessert and burst into laughter, resulting in the maid's eyes widening with wonder.
It had been dubbed "the salty pudding" many years earlier when Mrs. Patmore had mistaken the salt shaker for the sugar and sprinkled a healthy amount of the former on the concoction. Her blunder resulted in Edith's future fiancé', Anthony Strallan, getting a mouthful of salt when he took his first bite, and his reaction was highly amusing.
"Good God!" Matthew bellowed, imitating Sir Anthony's outburst before rejoining Mary in her merriment.
Things between them had been tense until that moment as she had resented his coming to Downton and claiming an inheritance that would have been hers if not for the entail that her American grandfather had put in place. It was what kept them from bonding despite the underlying attraction they felt. That night, it didn't.
"Do you think Mrs. Patmore is looking down from heaven and laughing along with us?" Mary asked as her fit of giggles subsided.
"I would hope she is, but doubt it," Matthew replied as he eyed his dessert with a contemplative look on is face. "After all, though we found her blunder amusing, she was quite upset by it. Added to that, her recipe is now in the hands of Mrs. Byrd, who has not only proven to be an excellent cook but also taken over her dear friend's duties as head housekeeper."
He recalled it had taken him a while to convince his mother to forgive her erstwhile servant for her unkind treatment of Ethel Parks, one of the maids who had been fired due to her becoming pregnant by an officer who was recuperating at Downton during the Great War.
At his mother's urging, Mrs. Byrd's condemnation of the maid had become a stumbling block in the Crawleys hiring her to replace Mrs. Patmore, though they believed she would be a good fit. It took a great deal of his time and patience to get Isobel to see that the cook was raised to believe women like Ethel were to be treated differently than women with morals. She wasn't a mean-spirited person, just one following the dictates of her upbringing.
In her favor, too, as she grew older, Mrs. Byrd did come to regret her harsh treatment, especially after learning Ethel had given up her child to his grandparents so that he could live a better life than she could provide.
"Oh dear, I didn't think of it that way," Mary replied, breaking him out of his musings. "I hope Mrs. Patmore is at peace and knows that no one will ever truly replace her at Downton. She was one of a kind and will never be forgotten, no matter who is preparing our meals."
He nodded before teasing, "I hope you are right, darling. We wouldn't want an angry spirit haunting the kitchen. Otherwise, I might wind up with a spoonful of salt in my mouth."
XX
Though the temperature outside had dropped, Matthew cracked open one of the bedroom windows to let some fresh air in. The raspberry meringue pudding had been delicious and he ate more of it than he should have, which led to his stomach bloating and the waistband of his trousers digging into his sides.
"I can't wait to get out of these clothes," he said as he wrestled with the knot in his tie.
Mary was there in an instant, pushing his hands out of the way and working her magic, calmly removing it and handing it to him.
"What would I do without you?" he asked before giving her a quick peck on her lips.
"She smiled, "Let's hope you won't have to find out for a long time."
"A very, very, very long time," he said before taking the tie from her hands. Then he headed off to his dressing room to change, calling out, "I won't be long, darling," over his shoulder.
He had not used a valet in years, having never wanted one to begin with and finally managing to forego one with Robert's approval for economy's sake. In fact, many of the ways of life the Crawleys had been accustomed to were abandoned in order to keep Downton afloat.
True, Cora still kept her lady's maid, but Miss. Baxter was shared by Mary and Matthew pitched in frequently by helping his wife undress for bed. It had also become a nightly ritual for him to comb her hair out, a task that he relished. It was shorter than it had been when she was younger but still reached her shoulders in gentle waves.
The staff had been cut to the bone and remaining servants required to take on more than one position as was the case with many of their neighbors who survived the war and its aftermath.
Mrs. Byrd was the Crawley's cook and head housekeeper. The two housemaids and scullery maid she supervised, Clara, Harriet and Margaret respectively, cleaned, laundered, mended the family's clothes (sometimes with the assistance of Miss Baxter), ran errands, assisted with meal preparation and helped Sybbie and Victoria with their dress and hair. To further reduce expenditures, none of the maids resided at Downton.
Their tasks would have been overwhelming had it not been for the modern inventions that came along – the refrigerator, washing machine and vacuum cleaner, which lessened their workload substantially.
Mr. Molelsley served as Robert's valet and tutor to the children when they needed assistance with schoolwork. Thomas held the title of butler, but both he Molesley were called upon to perform the duties of a footman when the need arose as was the stable groom. The lines had definitely been blurred.
Dinner parties were rare, but when the Crawleys did invite more than a few guests, they employed day workers to assist their small staff.
The main floor was well maintained and family and guest bedrooms kept in good order, but many rooms in their massive home had been closed off, the furniture covered with sheets and drapes closed tight to keep the costly Turkish carpets from fading.
Matthew called it "economizing" and though it was not pleasant, it was an integral part of his plan to keep Downton afloat. If any one complained to him about it, he reminded them of that.
True to his word, he returned to Mary quickly, now wearing pale blue pajamas and a matching robe that had she had given him on his birthday and began to help her out of her dress. Raising her hair so that he could get to the zipper, he grasped hold of the silver tab and pulled down on it gently until it reached the end.
"That's it, darling," he said, letting her dark chestnut locks slip through his fingers as they fell back in place.
Mary thanked him for his help and then bent over and stepped out of her dress. Draping it over her arm, she reached for a hangar that lay on a nearby chair.
Matthew appreciated how her black satin slip hugged her curves. The dark color offset her creamy white skin, making him wanting to see more of it.
Soon he realized he was becoming aroused and reminded himself that Mary was not doing a strip tease for his benefit. He was there to help, not leer at her. Scolding himself, he looked away and did his best to concentrate on something else.
"Did you give any more thought to who you want to take with us to Newport, darling? The 11th will be here before you know it."
Mary sat down on the tufted chair near her vanity and raised one leg into the air, removing the garter that held her stocking up and rolling it down carefully so not to cause a run in it. Then she rolled it into a ball and tossed it with precision into a small hamper nearby.
Following the same procedure with the remaining hose, she replied, "I know this may sound mad, Matthew, but I was thinking of asking Anna if she would like to make the trip with us."
He blinked, surprised by her response and uttered, "Really?"
She nodded, "Well, she was to go with me the first time I had planned on staying with my grandmother in Newport to wait out the scandal Richard Carlisle threatened me with. If John had not escaped the gallows for a murder he didn't commit and you hadn't proposed to me, Anna and I would have made the trip together. I wonder now if perhaps it isn't our destiny to do so."
Matthew smiled, "Perhaps it is."
Tossing the second stocking next to the first, she continued, "Of course, I would extend an invitation to her son, as well. That might actually be the deciding factor in her agreeing to go. I can't imagine that she or John would not welcome the opportunity for John Robert to travel in luxury to America, especially knowing he would be attending the Worlds Fair."
Matthew agreed, "I think you've come up with an excellent plan, darling. Your grandmother has paid for another adult to travel with us. We would just have to pick up the cost of adding a bed next to George's for the Bates' boy. He is quite fond of the lad so I'm sure he wouldn't mind his joining us one bit."
"It's settled then," Mary said with finality. "I'll call Anna and set up a visit to make her the offer."
.
Then she reached behind her neck to open the clasp on the chain of her necklace. She found she could not manage it, however, and after the third try dropped her hands and cursed under her breath.
"Come here. I'll do that," Matthew exclaimed. "That is my job. Remember?"
She came to him at once, turning around upon reaching him and raising her hair so that he could get at the clasp.
"Sometimes I do forget, darling. I was accustomed to pulling a cord and having a servant appear at the ready for many years. I guess I've not fully adjusted to our new way of life."
He gently turned her around until they faced one another and locking his eyes with hers, glided his hand from her shoulder to the top of her slip, tracing the lace border with his index finger before moving his hand down and cupping one of her breasts.
"But forfeiting your lady's maid in the evening has proved advantageous in some ways, hasn't it darling?"
"Quite advantageous," she purred before she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Matthew broke the kiss long enough to lower the straps on her slip, causing the silky garment to slide down until all that remained was her brassiere. He made quick work of removing it and tossed it to the ground, then bent his head and took one of her pert nipples into his mouth. Holding her breast firmly in place with one hand, he sucked hard on it while he fondled the other with his free one.
Mary held his head in place and he heard her moan while he tweaked, sucked and nipped at her swollen nipples. Soon she was panting as if she had just run a marathon. Then he felt her hand slide downward and reach for his pant zipper, the sound of metal grating on metal as it opened mingled with her sounds of rapture until it became clear how much he wanted her.
With their duties at Downton and the active role they played in their children's lives, it had been a while since they had connected this way and he had missed it even more than he realized. He lifted Mary in his arms and dropped her down on the golden coverlet that graced their bed. Fueled by desire, he found he had no patience for foreplay and pushed her slip up over her hips before stripping off her panties and tossing them on the floor.
"You make me feel like a young man, again," he croaked, his blue eyes boring into hers as he nudged her legs apart. "I want you just as much now as I did the first time we made love."
Mary smiled seductively, "So do I."
Then for what would be considered a minuscule moment in time considering the many years they had shared, they gave no thought to their age, duties, obligations or future plans and lost themselves in each other.
XX
The establishment that John and Anna Bates owned and operated was modest in size but tastefully decorated thanks to the latter's ingenuity. The two-story grey brick structure sat on a quiet street lined with massive Elms and nestled between a book shop and bakery.
Though plain in design, the facade was enriched by its freshly painted whited paned glass windows and vines of crawling ivy that formed a perfect arch over the entrance door before spreading like wildfire in every direction in its daily quest to reach the sun.
A wooden sign pieced together by metal clips on each side hung from a black post staked into the ground a few feet in front of the small hotel with "The Bates Inn" encircled by an oval border on the top half, while the lower indicated whether or not occupancy was available.
Anna noted that the geese that strayed onto their property from a nearby lake in search of food arrived in larger numbers when their hotel was full, no doubt due to the generosity of their guests in sharing a morsel or two with them. Early on, she and John found the lovely creatures charming but eventually their incessant honking and the droppings they left behind grated on their nerves, resulting in a second sign that read, "PLEASE DO NOT FEED GEESE".
The first floor housed the Bates' living quarters along with a reception area, kitchen, pantry, bath and dining room that could accommodate 20. In order to keep their operating costs down, the fledgling business owners decided to only serve breakfast. Anna helped one of scullery maids prepare the morning meal, their task made much easier by having a bakery in such close proximity to the hotel.
That seemed to suit their clientele fine as the majority of their guests only stayed one night and then headed out after their morning meal to resume their travel. Anna suggested to her husband that they change the name of the inn to "Bates Bed & Breakfast" and he told her he would give her idea serious consideration, adding she was quite witty.
This bright, sunny day, the former lady's maid welcomed her erstwhile employer and constant friend at the door with open arms, a bright smile, and a great deal of curiosity since Mary's phone call touched upon a proposition she was coming to make but no details were given.
"I don't know how you do it, Anna, but you appear no older than the day you married Mr. Bates," Mary smiled, eyeing her with appreciation. "…and if memory serves me, correctly, I believe that was 15 years ago."
Anna smiled, "You are a dear for saying that, but I fear you may be in need of spectacles. I find a new grey hair whenever I brush it and the furrow between my brows seems to grow deeper each time I look in the mirror. You, on the other hand remain a timeless beauty."
Mary reveled in the compliment and reached for Anna's hands, "You are a gem and I have missed you." she proclaimed with a broad grin on her face that was quickly matched.
They stood locked together that way for a long moment, their high regard for one another clear in their eyes before they dropped their hands and stepped inside.
As they made their way through the lobby of the hotel toward the co-owner who was manning the front desk, Mary remarked, "Matthew says beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I think that means when you care for someone, you see them through a different lens."
Anna nodded, "Words of wisdom, which, if memory serves me, your husband never was in short supply of."
"Nor was yours," Mary countered, as they reached her father's former valet and she greeted him with a warm smile and outstretched hands.
"Welcome to our humble establishment," John said. "Anna tells me this is not just a casual visit and I must admit that you have piqued my curiosity."
Then he called out to one of his employees, a young, dark haired man headed toward the stairs that led to the guest rooms in order to have him relieve him at his post.
XX
"I had a feeling Anna would accept but wasn't quite sure John would be able to spare her," Matthew said as he slipped his arm through his dinner jacket.
"Neither was I," Mary replied after blotting the lipstick she had just applied and assessing her appearance in her vanity mirror.
They had spent the last hour dressing for dinner, since the Dowager was joining them, and talking about Mary's visit to the Bates, most of their conversation spent on Anna's decision to come on board, both figuratively and literally.
"John insisted that she and JR, which is what family and friends call him, make the trip," Mary added as she rose from her seat and ran her hands over her dress to smooth out any wrinkles that may have formed while she was sitting. Then turning to Matthew, who stood at the window, she continued, "He said it was the opportunity of a lifetime and thanked me for offering it to his wife and son."
Matthew smiled, "I'm not surprised. I just hope he won't get too bogged down with Anna gone. John is getting up in years and his impairment makes it more difficult for him to maneuver about."
Mary eased his mind by informing him that Anna told her they had many applications for employment on file and her husband would have no problem hiring someone to assist him while she was away.
"The Depression has eased, darling, but sadly many still are unemployed," she frowned as she took a long strand of pearls out of her jewelry box and placed the necklace over her head.
After taking a last look in her vanity mirror to ensure her appearance was satisfactory, Mary turned her head to the clock on the fireplace mantle and noting the time, she asked Matthew if he would be ready soon as she did not want them to be late for dinner.
He raised his eyebrows and replied, "Darling, I was ready when I came in. All I had to do was get into my jacket. I've been waiting for you to finish primping."
She rolled her eyes at him and said in a tone that brooked no argument, "I do not primp. Anna told me today that I am a timeless beauty and she is one of the most honest people I know so it must be so. Therefore, I have no need to."
"I would have to be a fool to argue that point," Matthew chuckled. "Now, let's get going before your grandmother comes looking for us."
XX
The time for their departure came quickly, much too quickly for Matthew's liking as he wasn't sure he had covered all the bases he needed to with Robert and Tom with regard to their added duties at Downton. Now there was no time left to revisit the mental list he had been agonizing over.
"Stop it right now," Mary demanded.
"Stop what?" he asked, winding his watch to match the time on the clock to ensure it would be accurate.
Mary closed the small leather case that held her toiletries and brought down the locks until they clicked soundly before replying, "Worrying. There is deep crease in your brow that is going to leave an indelible mark if you don't stop scrunching your face that way."
He frowned, "I don't care if it does. Vanity is not one of my character flaws."
She took one last look in the mirror, adjusting her hat till it sat perfectly on her coifed hair and smiled, "In my opinion, vanity is an attribute, not a flaw. When a person is vain, they take better care of themselves…watch their weight, get the proper amount of sleep and so forth in order to look their best."
Noting that her argument was sound, Matthew nodded and then exclaimed, "You are a marvel, darling. I believe that is the first time I have ever heard a convincing case for narcissism."
"Well, there is a first time for everything," Mary replied smugly. Then she took one last look around the room before asking Matthew to carry down her toilette case.
The rest of their luggage had already been strapped to the two cars that would transport them to London. Matthew would drive the first to Edith and Evelyn's townhouse, where he, Mary and their children would spend the night. Tom would transport Robert and Cora in the second to his sister Rosamund's residence in Belgravia, the Earl having promised his sister a long overdue visit.
They would take the boat train the next morning to Southampton and meet the Bates at the White Star terminal at an assigned time, John having opted to spend the travel time alone with his wife and son before their trip.
Now, as he raised the glass containing a fine brandy to his lips, Matthew was glad the family had agreed upon the arrangement. He was thoroughly enjoying both Tom and Evelyn's company, Mary and Edith were getting along famously and the Crawley and Napier children were happy to spend some time with their cousins.
Marigold, Edith's first child by Michael Gregson, had lived at Downton for some time before Edith married Evelyn and she and Victoria had formed a strong bond, especially since they were so close in age. It was evident by their fits of giggles that they were enjoying their reunion.
Alexander and Vivienne, Edith and Evelyn's children by marriage, were exceptionally well-behaved for children their age and grateful to be included in their older cousin's activities.
The only fly in the ointment was that Tom's future bride, Catherine, was unable to join them as she had been called to the hospital to assist in an emergency surgery.
Matthew wished the night hadn't had to come to a close so soon but knew if he and Mary didn't retire early, they would be exhausted the next day. They had to be at the train station quite early to ensure there was enough time to load their luggage, though the train didn't depart until 11:30.
He hadn't realized until he climbed into the four-poster bed how tired he was. The mattress was soft and feather pillows made him feel as though he were resting his head on a cloud.
"This bed is heaven," Mary sighed, taking the words out of his mouth. "I wish I could spend a bit more time in it instead of rising at the crack of dawn to set off for Southampton."
"Darling, I am sure that you know that we won't be rising with the sun, but I, too, wish we could linger a bit longer in the morning. The last few days have felt like a whirlwind and I'm spent."
Mary then painted a mental picture for him of the two of them on the Olympic, laying side by side on matching deck chairs as rays of sun and a light ocean breeze washed over their faces.
"One can hope," Matthew mumbled, already half asleep. "No rain…seasickness. Good night, darling."
She frowned at that and began plumping her pillow until it suited her. Then she moved closer to her husband, and upon resting her head down replied, "I'm remaining optimistic….but we'll bring umbrellas and an ample supply of ginger tea just in case."
XXX
Matthew held tightly onto Victoria's hand as the locomotive roared into London's Waterloo station. The noise made it impossible to hear what Mary was saying to him and he cupped one of his ears with his free hand and shook his head to indicate as much. That prompted his wife to nod and point her index finger in the direction of their daughter's shoes.
For a moment he felt as though he and Mary were playing charades or as the Crawley's called it, "The Game" that had become a tradition on Christmas Day. Following Mary's directive, he found the lace on one of Victoria's shoes had become untied and quickly bent down to rectify it. Their daughter was, of course, able to tie her own shoes, but in the interest of safety, he opted to do it himself. They were after all mere inches away from a moving train.
While pulling one loop through the other, he caught sight of the time on his watch and noted that the first class ocean liner special that would transport them to the Whitestar dock at Southampton had arrived exactly on time. A good omen, he told himself as rose and took back his daughter's hand. Then he gave Mary's a thumb's up with his free one as the screeching sound of the braking train filled the air.
He felt Victoria give his hand a squeeze to get his attention and looked down to find her smiling up at him. Then she shouted, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Matthew mouthed, knowing he would only strain his vocal chords in an attempt to be heard.
Soon thereafter, the train came to a complete stop and the sound of screeching wheels was replaced by the strained voice of a train conductor, a thin man with a mustache, bellowing "All Aboard".
Still holding onto his daughter, Matthew turned his head to locate the rest of his family and found his mother and father-in-law blocked by an elderly couple shuffling along slowly with the assistance of a middle-aged man who appeared to be a relative.
He noted that Robert appeared frustrated as his and Cora's progress was delayed and he sympathized with him.
Mary, Tom and George had fortuitously found themselves positioned in front of the human barrier and quickly were at his side.
"If this keeps up, Papa and Mama will be left behind," she said, shaking her head with annoyance.
Tom laughed, "Don't worry, though your father has exquisite manners, he will give in to his impatience in another minute or two.
He did just that a few moments later, tapping the elderly man on the shoulder and upon getting his attention, saying with not a hint of agitation in his velvety voice, "Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but my wife and I have traveled a long way to see my daughter and son-in-law off on their voyage and we will miss doing so if we don't move along."
At that, the couple stopped dead in their tracks and the man assisting them apologized for the delay and gestured for Robert and Cora to pass them.
"All aboard!" rose above the sound of shuffling feet and chatter as the travelers made their way to their assigned car. "Last Call…All Aboard!."
Matthew found their first class carriage car luxurious, the rich mahogany paneled walls, polished brass light fixtures and stylish carpeting a small preview of what he expected their accommodations would be like on the Olympic.
Thankfully they all settled into their thickly cushioned seats long before the train left the station and long enough to witness the aging couple that had held up the Earl and Countess board the carriage car behind theirs.
George stretched his neck to see what held the rest of his family's interest and finding the source said, "I think you handled that situation splendidly, Grandfather. You didn't sound the least bit annoyed when you advised that gentleman that he needed to move along."
"Why thank you, George," the Earl replied, beaming at his grandson's praise. "I have to admit it isn't always easy, but it is important that a gentleman strive to remain polite and composed in any situation. If I have provided you with a good example, I am glad of it."
Matthew interjected, "You have always provided him with good example, Robert."
"As have you, son," he replied. George is turning into a fine young man, one we can all be proud of."
The future heir blushed at the praise before thanking the Earl. Then he pulled a folded booklet out of his back pocket and began reading it.
"Well, I would imagine now that they are finally on board, we can get moving," Robert exclaimed.
"You should be more empathetic, Robert," Cora said, playfully tapping his arm. "It won't be long until someone in our family will have to apologize for us holding someone up."
"Absolutely not," the Earl shot back. "You and I will have the common decency to stay home when we get that old."
Tom declared that he was going to hold him to that, which led to Matthew, Mary and Cora bursting into laughter and Victoria and George smiling at the adult's antics.
Their merriment continued as they pulled out of the station, intermingled with the chugging sound of the wheels in motion as the train picked up steam.
XXX
Victoria remained quiet with her eyes fixed on the window from the moment they left London, taking in as much detail as she could of the rapidly passing scenery on the other side of the glass. Her brother, on the other hand became quite vocal once he decided the information he was reading should be shared.
"Southampton is called the 'Gateway to the World", he began to read out loud. "Situated within the complete shelter of the Isle of Wight and enjoying the rare distinction of high tide four times a day make it is a port of considerable importance. Its ideal position on the south coast and its intensely populated hinterland have been fully exploited…in pursuing a policy of enterprise and foresight."
Matthew smiled at Mary and then said, "That is very interesting, George."
"I agree, Father," he replied before continuing, "It says here that the difference between high and low tide is on average only five feet and at its narrowest part, the approaches to the port along Southampton Water are over 600 feet wide – equivalent to a 16-lane motorway. No wonder it gets such heavy traffic."
Mary chuckled, "That's quite a good pun, George, though I don't think you made it intentionally.
"No matter if it was intentional or not, it still was quite witty" Matthew interjected.
George thanked them both and then returned to reading, offering additional information about their destination whenever he found it worthwhile.
Occasionally, his son's outbursts broke him out of the trance he found himself in, a result of the motion of the train and repetitive sound it made as it chugged along the tracks. In fact, there were a few times that Matthew felt his eyes closing and had to shake his head to stay awake.
This time, however, it was the briny scent of the sea streaming through a crack in the upper half of the carriage window that brought him out of his stupor. He found the salty air that filled the car invigorating and inhaled deeply, each breath he took clearing his head along with his sinuses.
We've arrived, he told himself, as the distinct smell signaled their final destination was at hand.
Victoria confirmed as much when she exclaimed, "Oh, my. How beautiful it is."
Everyone in the car turned their head in unison, and finding a picturesque view of the port, nodded their heads in agreement with the youngest Crawley.
"Yes, sweetheart, quite beautiful," Matthew agreed as his eyes feasted on the bright blue sky and body of water beneath it that mirrored its hue. A smattering of translucent white clouds edged with gold by the sun they concealed captivated his attention, leading him to ponder the role divinity played in such a magnificent display. Then his gaze was drawn to the seagulls soaring in their domain, grey specks zigzagging through the heavens at this distance.
The view of the harbour touched him in a different way. He could feel his blood surge as he took in the array of vessels that navigated it - tug boats and pilots cutting through the waves, a large freighter coming into port and two fishing boats heading out to sea. In the distance, he saw a splash of red headed for shore and thought it must be the red ferry George mentioned transporting passengers to the mainland from the Isle of Wight.
He saw that there were many ships berthed, too, some having cargo loaded or unloaded and two massive ocean liners docked. There was no mistaking which one they were headed for, though, as the Olympic was easily identifiable, being identical to the ship that graced every newspaper's front page around the world in 1912, The Titanic.
"It is like looking at a ghost," Robert said solemnly. "I knew it would but seeing it with my own eyes isn't the same as knowing, if that makes any sense."
Mary took hold of her father's hand, "I'm sorry if this is drudging up painful memories for you, Papa."
The earl shook his head, "No…no…There will be none of that. Your Mama and I are here to send you and your family off to America with smiles on our faces and yours. Forgive me, dear."
"There is nothing to forgive," she replied, and leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Well, this is it," Matthew said as the train began to slow, reaching the end of the line. "This is the Ocean dock. Our ship awaits us."
Victoria bounced up and down in her seat with excitement and George stuffed the pamphlet he had been reading back into his pocket.
"It is quite exciting, isn't it, Father."
"That it is, George," Matthew replied as the train came to a full stop.
They all rose then and began filing out of the carriage car, joining the throng of people headed for the White Star terminal where they would meet the Bates.
Matthew paused for a moment to offer Mary his arm and Victoria his hand. However, his daughter politely refused it, accepting instead her grandfather's outstretched palm.
"I'm going to miss him, Father," she offered by way of apology for her rejection.
"That is completely understandable, Victoria. No hard feelings," he replied with a smile.
George then followed suit, offering his grandmother his arm, which she took quickly, beaming at her first grandson.
It was then that Matthew noticed a familiar face in the crowd. At first, he convinced himself that the tall, handsome man with the swarthy complexion, dark eyes and boarding passes in his hand just resembled the one who had wooed his wife while she believed him dead. That stopped his stomach from doing somersaults for a few seconds. However, once he got a good look at the woman standing beside him, there was no doubt of his identity.
Turning to Mary he said, "Darling, I'm not sure if you will consider this a bad omen or not but it appears Tony and Mabel Foyle will be crossing the Atlantic with us."
XX
AN: I know it has been a long wait for an update, again, but I'm hoping it was worth the wait. I promise I'm working as fast as I can with a lot of RL setbacks.
There is a lot of canon in this chapter as well as history. I hope you enjoy both.
I think it is important to note that I researched what a family like the Crawleys would have had to do in order to keep their home. Many aristocrats lost theirs. The reason I kept 3 maids is because Downton had to have had employed many more in her glory days than what we saw on t.v.. I assume we just got Anna, Gwen and Daisy because Julian Fellowes felt there were enough characters to keep up with, already.
Finally, I hope you will leave a review. They do motivate me to begin writing again.
The next chapter will take you aboard the Titanic's sister ship as our favorite couple begins their journey to America. I hope you will come join them.