I Love You

For a few weeks, Mary thought about Carson's advice, that she write to Mathew about how much he meant to her. Her instinct still recoiled at the possiblity of revealing such personal feelings to someone who had abandoned her. I couldn't, Mary whispered to her empty bedroom at night. I cannot, she thought as their footman, Christopher, served dinner. Even Carson's encouraging face couldn't cause Mary to change her mind.

Everything changed when Sybil received a horrid letter one day. "Lord Mar's son, Andrew, died a couple of weeks ago," she said as they sipped soup for luncheon. "I met him this past spring, and he was a marvelous dancer. I can still picture him, offering his arm to lead me to the dance floor," Sybil sighed and shook her head.

Mary's heart raced, trying to remember this young gentleman, who had considered Sybil's hand just last spring, and was now dead.

"I wish you wouldn't say such things in front of your mother, Sybil," Papa said, looking straight at Mama, who appeared bigger every day. "She doesn't need the extra stress."

"Papa, I am only sorry a man I met died," Sybils said firmly. "The war is growing closer and closer to us." She took another spoonful of soup.

Mary sipped her soup, silently agreeing with her youngest sister. What if it became too close?

"Robert, I know you are only looking out for me, and the baby and I appreciate it, but truly I am not as fragile as you think," Mama said gently. "Sybil, I'm sorry your friend."

Carson's words about writing to Mathew swirled around Mary's head with new meaning. If something happens to him, and you say nothing, you may regret it all your days." Her whole body felt cold as she finished luncheon, and the warm soup did nothing to cure it.

Mary would speak to Isobel about Mathew's current address as soon as possible.

OOOOOOOOOO

Isobel was more difficult to speak to than Mary had expected, as her mother-in-law was busy with the hospital and many wounded men who were already arriving there. But when Isobel finally had a free lunch hour, she happily came to Downton to see Grace and gave Mary the address.

Before dinner, Mary stared at the Downton stationary, wondering how to begin such a letter.

Finally, she wrote.

Dear Mathew,

Your mother gave me your current address, assuring me that you would be happy to hear from your wife. I hope that is true.

Grace had a wonderful birthday party last month, and I am sorry you were not able to be here for it. She dropped her cake on the carpet in the library, but no one seemed to mind, and I know you are more interested in gifts than anything else. Your mother gave her another book, Mama and Papa a set of wooden blocks, and I a new dress. Even Edith's gift was acceptable, a set of new hair ribbons. Sybils' gift was the oddest, a small collection of Irish folktales. But then my youngest sister is sweet but has some strange ideas on what is important.

Speaking of strange ideas, Edith has married Sir Anthony Strallen since you have left. I still don't understand the appeal for either of them, but they seem happy, and Edith and I get on better with her living at Lockley's instead of Downton.

I think you would be happy about my behavior at Edith's wedding. Not only did I do my best to be nice to Edith and Anthony, but I also defended Mama and her coming baby from a horrid rumor. It made me realize that my new sibling needs my protection just as much as Sybil always had, and I shall give it.

But coming to the true reason for this letter, I wish we had not left things as we did when you left, and I loathe to see it continue, especially when we do not know what might happen in the war. You once told me that there is nothing you regret about our relationship, as challenging as it has been. I cannot say the same.

I regret…

Mary stopped writing as a drop of ink landed on her paper. Shaking her head, she switched pens before it leaked more. If too many ink spots landed on this paper, the letter would be incorrect etiquette. How many times had her governesses told her as much? What would she do then? Someone could find her private thoughts in the garbage.

Her heartbeat faster at the very thought of her most private feelings read by the wrong person. But more than that, Mary would never be brave enough to write such a revealing letter twice.

… the manner I treated you when you first arrived. I regret my behavior during and directly after our honeymoon. But most of all, I regret the way I caused you feel unimportant to me because of Mama and Papa's pending baby.

I was rather cross and bitter at that time because everything I thought I wanted from when I was very small might be taken from me. I have told you previously, Mathew, not to pay attention to what I say, and that was another such time where you should not have.

Furthermore, I hope you know how competitive I can be, and I felt that Mama and Papa were "winning" by conceiving an heir.

Mary's mind flashed back to countless invigorating debates with Mathew, in which they were each determined to win. How could she have forgotten how similar they were in many ways? Could it be, perhaps, that he'd thought he'd lost Mary as much as she believed she'd lost him?

But I forgot that you are also competitive, Mathew; I see it in every debate we participate. And because of that, you thought you had lost something far more serious than the earldom: me. I am so sorry for that, Mathew.

Taking a deep breathe, she prepared to write the most difficult thing she'd ever done. Granny's warnings about "the dangers of love" still lingered in Mary's mind, but she focused on Carson's encouragement and Papa's desire for her and Mathew to be "truly happy." Hadn't she learned last year that Granny wasn't quite as wise as Mary had always believed?

Because as difficult as it is for me to admit it, let alone write it, I love you. And I hope you can forgive me.

Love,

Mary

Nodding, Mary read over the letter in satisfaction. It was much easier, she realized, to explain things in a letter when she was in complete control of her thoughts and words, rather than responding to Mathew's own words.

Quickly, she sealed the letter before anyone else could find it and rang for Anna. Hopefully it could still go out in today's post.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOO

"Cora," said Robert's deep voice, causing her eyes to open. "Mary has been looking for you. The men will bring in the Christmas tree today."

Cora stretched over her bed as best she could at eight months pregnant and looked deep into Robert's eyes. "Quite. Thank you for waking me, darling." Bringing the large spruce was one of the best parts of the Christmas season and one Cora refused to miss, even this year.

Reaching for his hand, she slowly pulled herself into a standing position. Her eyes fell on an empty tea and biscuit tray. "Oh, dear. I should have rung for Baxter after I finished with my little snack."

"Darling, don't worry about it," he said firmly, as if he could prevent every anxious thought from entering her mind. He still disliked when people discussed the war in her presence.

"Robert, truly, Dr. Clarkson says the baby and I are both fine," Cora said gently, pausing to smooth her blue dress the best she could. She wasn't wearing an evening gown, but a countess should always look her best outside her private living areas. "So, could we simply go downstairs and see the Christmas tree?"

He smiled but reached for her hand and held it firmly onto his arm. "Of course, but please let me help you down the stairs."

Cora sighed. She wished to say that was unnecessary, as she had been climbing and descending those stairs for twenty-five years now, but it was difficult to argue when she could no longer see her own feet. She stared at her belly, feeling bloated for the hundredth time. "I don't understand why I'm so large this time. Certainly, Mary, Edith, and Sybil weren't this big?"

"If I remember correctly, Mary, Edith, and Sybil were rather big, but you're still so beautiful, Cora." He stroked her stomach tenderly as he spoke, and Cora melted.

She still struggled to see her as beautiful with her huge belly and enlarged behind, but she could tell by his touch, the way he spoke, and the look in his eyes that he meant it. "I love you," she said, as her eyes filled with tears. "Foolish hormones," she murmured, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

OOOOOOOOOO

Fortunately, Cora arrived downstairs without incident and her hormones were under control. "Hello, Mama," Mary said, standing prim in the great hall in a silver dress. "The men have already left for the woods, and they should return soon. And Carson assured me ornaments and lights are all set."

Cora smiled warmly at her eldest, once again glad that Mary wasn't bitter about her pregnancy any longer. "Thank you," she said with a nod.

Robert still stood close to her, as if guarding Cora from all harm, but even he couldn't resist the excitement when the Abbey doors burst open, and Carson directed the men where to place the tree. "No, a little bit to the left," he said, firmly but confidently. "Not that far to the left. It should be more in the center of the hall."

Robert nodded, silent but proud, as his eyes studied every angle of the tree, while Cora inhaled the rich scent. Nothing made her think of Christmas like the smell of one of their spruces.

"Yes, quite like that," Carson said finally with a slow nod as the men put the tree in the correct place. "Now, the ornaments are ready, correct," he said, staring hard at the two footmen. Christopher and Samuel had been working well for the last several months, but they'd never worked a Christmas at Downton.

"Yes, they are right here, Mr. Carson," Christopher said, holding up a box.

"Grace!" Robert said, suddenly noticing the nanny had brought down their granddaughter to join in the festivities. His smile brightened and he looked adorably excited to share the holiday with the little girl. Cora melted again, hoping her hormones were more under control this time. It wouldn't do to start crying in front of Carson and the footmen.

"Yes, come see the Christmas tree, darling," Mary said carefully, holding out her hand as Grace wobbled toward her, still clutching nanny's hand. "See the lovely ornaments?" She pointed to several wooden decorations which the footmen had already placed on the tree.

Grace said nothing, but her eyes appeared interested.

Cora watched the exchange with a warm feeling, but she couldn't help but wish Mathew was there with them, and she knew everyone else felt the same way. "This time next year, we will have another child to enjoy the Christmas tree," Robert said softly into her ear, as if he wanted, or perhaps needed to cheer Cora from her somber thoughts.

Cora looked from Mary and Grace to Robert and nodded. "Looking forward to that is the only thing that makes this worth it," she rubbed her belly, which still felt bloated and uncomfortable. She didn't mention how much she wished Mathew would be with them next Christmas as well, but the shadow in his eyes proved he was thinking the same.

OOOOOOOOOO

Christmas Eve arrived without Mathew, as well as several of the tenants whose faces Cora normally saw gathering in the great hall for the Christmas party. Still, everyone put one a brave face, pretending no one was missing as they ate, drank, and sang carols.

Cora did her best to sing Robert's favorite Christmas carol "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen," as a countess should, but being eight months pregnant made it difficult. How many times had Cora had to discretely ask Baxter to assist her with a chamber pot? She still wore her tiara, but her large red maternity gown caused Cora to feel more like a red elephant than the Countess of Grantham.

Robert still insisted she was beautiful, but Cora was glad she was sitting this year, instead of standing in front of the Christmas tree, with everyone staring at her, as they all sang carols. "So, how are things?" said Mama's sharp, yet proper voice from across the table after the song finished.

Even if that meant Cora had to sit next to Robert's mother. The older woman had already eyed the tall spruce earlier, as if there were something wanting simply because Cora chose it.

"Very, well thank you," Cora said.

"Dr. Clarkson says she is well?" Mama pressed, her eyes on Cora's stomach made her meaning clear.

Cora's eyes filled with tears again. Her hormones and Mama's subtle insult that Cora had to be carrying a girl because she was incapable of producing boys swirled inside her chest like bees stinging. But she blinked away her tears. After all, Mama wasn't saying anything Cora hadn't thought of herself. And then there was Mary, who though much less bitter, was still clearly hoping to hold onto the title.

"Yes, Dr. Clarkson says all is well," Cora said out loud, hoping Mama couldn't hear the lump she swallowed. The older woman wouldn't tolerate "blubbering", as she called it, especially with the servants and tenants nearby.

But Mama smiled and nodded, proving how much she looked forward to the birth of her new grandchild, even if she were a girl. "Good to hear."

Cora smiled back as Robert began singing "O Come All Ye Faithful," and she and Mama quickly joined, the hall being filled with the joy of Christmas.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Cora tried to hold onto the joy of Christmas later that night as Baxter removed her tiara and evening gown then helped Cora into a maternity nightdress and brushed her hair. But she couldn't help but sigh as Robert finally entered her bedroom, in his dressing gown as always.

"I wish Mathew had been here tonight," she said, voicing what had been on their minds all evening now that they were alone. She pictured his cheerful expression as he would have held Grace close to the spruce and joined everyone in singing and shook her head.

"Quite," Robert said slowly as he removed his dressing gown and deposited it on the same corner chair he always had. He approached the bed without saying anything, but what was truly a concern for her is that he wouldn't look at her, either.

Perhaps Cora shouldn't have said anything; Robert disliked speaking of uncomfortable subjects, although they appeared to grow easier the longer, they were married. "Darling, I'm sorry for speaking so," she said finally, reaching for his hand after he climbed into bed, only showing the back of his head. "Happy Christmas."

He was silent for another moment before squeezing her hand, much to her relief. "No, Darling, I'm sorry for causing you grief," he said. "I've just being," there was a long pause, and he sighed. "Happy Christmas."

Ordinarily, Cora would have kissed his cheek and left it at that; she didn't like to ask more than he wished to give. Especially on Christmas Eve. But her hormones caused her to be less calm than she should be, especially considering Mama's comment about Cora being incapable of producing a boy still stung in her chest. So, Cora said, "You've just been 'what'?" she said, a bit snappish. She shifted her weight, the baby making it difficult to become comfortable.

She had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

Robert still wouldn't look at her at all. "I didn't want to say anything, but it's clear that this war will last a lot longer than we'd hoped. Who knows if Mathew and the others will even be home next Christmas? So, I need to do my part. " He took another deep breath, and Cora's eyes already filled with more tears for the third time tonight, knowing what was coming. "After the baby is born, I'm going to rejoin the army."

A mixture of anger and heartbreak swirled around Cora as she pictured her husband in those horrible trenches, especially with those new machine guns in use now. How could she worry about both Mathew and Robert's safety at the same time? "I see," she said, spitting the words out even more than before. She removed her hand from his as stray drops trickled from her eyes. "And what would happen if the new baby never knew her father?

Cora was glad that Robert was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Probably the same thing that would happen to Grace, or any other child whose father dies in a war. The family will tell stories of him, and the child will almost believe he or she has known him."

Tears filled her eyes once again as she pictured the hollow life of their newest child hearing about Robert but never truly knowing him. "That's not the same thing, and you know it." She loathed how tearful her voice sounded and even more how she couldn't prevent them from streaming down her face.

"No, but sometimes it's necessary," Robert said, sounding angry himself now. "Especially with this war; it's almost at our doorstep. Men aren't fighting just for king and country like in the Boer War, we're going to fight to keep our families safe before the Kaiser and the Huns invade. I've got to keep you and the girls safe from them, Cora."

Cora shook her head, growing angrier and angrier despite tears still streaming down her face. "Aren't you the one telling everyone not to speak of the war in front of me, because you claim the stress isn't good for the baby?" She patted her huge stomach, and shifted her weight again, trying to become physically comfortable, at least. "It appears you doing far worse tonight than the girls' innocent conversations about which men they danced with are serving."

"Well, you asked," Robert said, in the same angry voice. "And somehow I think if I had weighted until after the baby was born to speak of this, you'd be just as angry, if not more."

Cora cried herself to sleep that Christmas Eve, loathing even more how right he was with that last comment.

OOOOOOOOOO

Waking on Christmas morning, Cora took a deep breath.

How could she have not expected Robert would wish to serve in the army again, especially, as he said, this war took place directly in Europe? Hadn't Cora always loved him for his strong sense of honor and duty? Didn't Mathew's honor as she grew to know him in the past year remind her more and more of Robert's? So, why was what he revealed last night so surprising?

"Cora," said Robert's voice softly next to her, and her heart still skipped a beat. Of course, he was awake; he always woke before she did. For the first time since last night, he turned his head to face her, his deep blue eyes sad. "I love you. I truly do."

As always when he said it that plainly, she simply stared at him in shock; it wasn't his way to speak like that. "I know I acted like a fool last night. I should never have stressed you like that, and I'm sorry. Is the baby all right?" He stared at her belly, as if checking for signs of distress.

Cora smiled and stroked her stomach, feeling the baby kick a few times. "She's fine, and do not blame yourself, darling. You were right; I wouldn't have been any less upset if you'd told me of your plans after the baby is born." As usual, she couldn't stay angry at Robert for long, especially when he was so sincere.

But Robert's eyes still looked sad. Cora took his hand and placed it on her stomach to feel her kicks. "And things look better in the morning."

"Happy Christmas, Cora," Robert said after several moments, a slow smile finally appearing on his face. "And happy Christmas to you, too," he said to the baby, kissing her stomach in a way that melted her heart.

"I suppose you should leave," she said with a sigh. "Bates will be waiting in your dressing room, and Baxter will be in here with my breakfast soon. Then we'll have to ready for church."

Robert nodded but he made no move to exit the bed. Instead, he stroked her stomach softly, and she smiled in response, feeling content and loved. Their sweet, lazy morning, so different than the night before continued until there was a knock at the door.

"Lady Grantham?" said Baxter's voice.

Sighing, Robert finally climbed out of the bed. "Happy Christmas, darling," Cora said softly as he exited his private door.