The precisely calculated timetable of royal pageantry waited for no man even after an attempt on the monarch's life. And so George V, King of England, trotted out on his horse to inspect the assembled Yorkshire Hussars blissfully unaware of how close he'd come to meeting his Maker.
The cheers of the distant crowd filtered through to the secluded courtyard where Lady Mary Talbot stood beside her brother-in-law watching the wheels of law and order turning in front of them, getting the situation under control. Her calm exterior belied the fact that, even as the police manhandled the would-be assassin into the van, her heart still pounded like fury in her chest after the chaos, confusion and danger of the whole affair.
Thwarted in his deadly mission, Major Chetwode struggled against his captors, shouting accusations at Tom about abandoning his Irish Republican sympathies as the police slammed the rear door of the Black Maria on him.
One of the policemen turned back to Mary and Tom.
'Thank you for your assistance with this matter, Mr Branson. If you and the lady could follow us to Downton police station, I'd be much obliged. We'll need to take statements from both of you about the events of the day,' he said speaking to Tom rather than her, much to Mary's surprise. Most people addressed her first, but she supposed Tom was the hero of the hour and maybe the policeman didn't know she was the daughter of the Earl of Grantham.
'Of course. We'll be right along,' Tom said, calmly, nodding to the man and brushing dust off his suit.
The policeman bobbed his head in thanks and climbed into the front seat of the van. The driver released the brake and it trundled away, the traitor still shouting the odds in the back, leaving Tom and Mary alone at the scene of the crime.
'Right, well, we'd bet- oof!' Tom wheezed, clutching at his midriff as Mary's handbag caught him right in the solar plexus. The next thing he knew, he had an armful of his sister-in-law as she flew at him.
'Don't you ever do that to me again, you stupid, stupid arse!' she cried, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tight.
Tom blinked, taken aback by both the sudden, unexpected embrace and the uncharacteristic language from Mary, before sliding his arms around her and holding her close as she clung to him.
'It's all right, Mary. I'm all right.'
'But you might not have been,' she said, fiercely, her breath hot in his ear, still squeezing the life out of him. 'He had a gun, Tom! That madman had a gun! A loaded gun! He could have killed you!'
'But he didn't,' Tom said, soothingly, patting her on the back. 'I'm all right. There's barely a scratch on me.'
Mary pulled back slightly, clutching his shoulders and glaring at him. 'That's not the point! You know that now, but you didn't know you'd be all right when you tackled him. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I saw you grappling with him on the ground and him holding a gun.'
'Well, you stomped on his hand good and hard, so he didn't have the gun for long,' Tom pointed out, smiling approvingly at her. 'I mean, if you think about it, you practically saved me.'
A small smile tugged at Mary's lips before she remembered how cross she was with him for putting his life at risk. 'Stop trying to distract me from ticking you off for your foolish behaviour. I know it was awfully brave of you, but I wish you hadn't done it. I don't know what I'd have done if he'd shot you. I couldn't bear to lose you.'
'I think most of the country would think it infinitely preferable for him to shoot a lowly, unimportant Irishman than the King of England,' Tom said, dryly.
Mary shook her head fiercely. 'Not me. You're not lowly or unimportant to me. I'd choose you over the King every time even if they put me in the Tower of London for saying so. I'm not losing another man I care about. Not for anyone.'
Tom smiled fondly at her, his hands resting lightly on her waist. 'Careful, Mary. If anyone hears you saying something like that, your reputation will be shot to pieces. They'll know the Ice Queen has a heart.'
'Oh, do shut up. That will never happen. It's common knowledge that Lady Mary Talbot does not have a heart. Ask Edith if you don't believe me,' she said, trying to hide her smile.
Tom grinned at her. 'Well, I know different, but your secret is safe with me, I promise.'
Seeing his eyes twinkling with mirth only inches away from her own, Mary suddenly realised they were still locked in an embrace that while perfectly innocent may seem wholly scandalous should anyone see them. She released her hold on him and gave him a gentle push on the shoulders to get him to take a step back.
'Heroic though your actions were, I want you to promise me that you will never do anything like that again' she said, sternly. 'Let the authorities deal with the madmen with guns. You can stay well out of it. You're not living in a John Buchan novel, you know.'
'I'm not sure I can promise you that. What if my natural tendency is to be a hero?' Tom said, winking at her.
'Well, in that case, I will give you fair warning. If you ever do anything as reckless as this again, I shall shoot you myself. And I am a crack shot.' She fixed him with a gimlet-eyed stare as she straightened her clothing, slightly rumpled from the struggle and from throwing herself in relief at her ridiculously brave brother-in-law.
'I know you are, so consider me warned,' Tom replied, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 'Thank you for caring so much, Mary.'
'Don't be stupid. I love you, you know that,' Mary said, plucking his hat from his hand and brushing the remaining dust off it. 'Even when you do idiotically rash things.'
'I love you too,' Tom said, taking his hat back and putting it on at a suitably rakish angle. He held out his arm to her. 'Shall we make our way to the police station now? Give them all the information they need to lock that chap up? If we're quick, we might even make it to tea after the parade.'
Mary nodded, slipping her hand around the crook of his elbow, her heart still beating uncomfortably fast in her chest, extraordinarily glad to have him still in one piece next to her.