Cora's bedroom, June 10th, 1922
Cora smiled in greeting at her new maid bringing in her tray.
"There we are, m'lady," said Baxter quietly. She seemed to be naturally soft-spoken. "I think I've remembered everything. But I'll just stay here while you check."
"It seems perfect, but -" she indicated a glass of orange juice on her tray, "what's this?"
"Well, I know Americans often drink orange juice with breakfast. So I thought you might like it," explained Baxter uncertainly.
"That is so considerate, Baxter. Thank you," said Cora sincerely.
Baxter smiled, relieved, and walked to the door. Rose came in straight afterwards.
"Good morning, Cousin Cora. You look very happy."
"Just Baxter reminding me of times gone by," answered Cora, drinking the orange juice as if it was a heavenly nectar. She truly forgot how nice a glass of chilled orange juice could taste with breakfast.
"You're pleased with her."
"I am, thank heaven."
"Oh, thank God! I still feel so guilty sometimes about Mummy stealing Miss O'Brien!"
Cora soured a bit at the reminder of her former maid. It'd been months since O'Brien left her without warning, but it still stung.
"Have you wanted something, Rose?"
"Oh, Cousin Cora, I was just thinking that Matthew's birthday is coming in a week, isn't it?"
"I believe it is."
"So, will you be giving a birthday party?"
Cora frowned slightly.
"Yes, Mary is planning something. Why?"
"I'd had rather a good idea for it. That's all."
"Would you give her a hand then?"
"Absolutely! I so would love to do something great for Matthew, he has been so good to me," she sighed, her face crumbling a little. "I so wish I could have gone with them to London. The duchess's ball must be so glamorous!"
"It probably is," answered Cora with an indulgent smile.
"Don't you wish we could have gone as well?" asked Rose imploringly and Cora nearly laughed.
"I am still in mourning for Robert and you are not yet out," she reminded Rose, who pouted. "But there will be plenty of balls next season for you, starting with your own."
Rose brightened up a bit.
"Oh, I cannot wait!" she exclaimed. "But in the meantime, I think I will try to organise a surprise for Matthew. Just promise me you talk Mary into making it a proper birthday party! She cannot refuse to throw one for Matthew, can she?"
"I don't believe she shall," smiled Cora, shaking her head fondly as Rose practically skipped out of her room.
Nursery, Downton Abbey, June 11th, 1922
Cora and Tom were getting the children's tea ready, with Tom just setting the highchair up at the table, when Isobel walked in.
"I thought I'd come up early and spend some time with George, especially since Matthew and Mary aren't back yet," she said brightly.
Cora smiled at her.
"I told Nanny I'd feed him. But now you can do it. He'd like that."
"Oh, I doubt it. He probably thinks 'who's this funny old lady'? But never mind, I appreciate the offer."
They sat down, with Tom bringing the rest of baby feeding paraphernalia.
"By the way, I thought I'd be Grandmama. And then you can be Granny. We've somehow never settled it before."
"There will be some time before George is calling us anything, so there's no rush, but I gladly agree. And what about Sybbie? What should she call you?"
"Well, Aunt Isobel, I think. I'm not quite a real aunt, but I nearly am."
Isobel and Tom exchanged smiles.
"Did I read that Lord Gillingham is engaged to be married?"
Cora sighed.
"Yes. To Miss Lane Fox."
"I hope you don't mind. I thought there was some hope for him and Edith."
Cora waved her hand dismissively.
"Oh, it was just a thought. I just would so like to see both my girls equally happy. It hurts my heart to see how alone Edith is."
"When I got engaged, I was so in love with Reginald I felt sick. I was sick with love. Literally," Isobel laughed a little. "It seems so odd to think about it now. It really does."
"It was the same for me," said Tom suddenly. "As if I'd gone mad, or been hypnotised, or something. For days. Weeks. All I could think about was her."
Cora smiled, even though she could feel her eyes prickling.
"And me. It took Robert a long time to fall in love with me. A year, nearly. I loved him earlier, although also after we were married. And I still remember the day when he looked at me – just looked at me – and I realised that he does love me! He really does love me! I felt drunk from happiness."
They all smiled, savouring their happy memories.
"Well," said Isobel in a slightly choked voice. "Aren't we the lucky ones?"
Downton grounds, June 11th, 1922
It was such a nice June evening that Matthew and Mary decided to walk home from the station, sending Evelyn, Edith, Bates and Anna in the car. They wouldn't have all fitted anyway. They were walking hand in hand and Mary thought that she had never felt happier. She barely stopped herself from caressing her belly. She needed to keep her secret just for one more week.
"I wonder if Robert would have been happy with the changes we are introducing to Downton," said Matthew musingly, looking at the fields surrounding them.
Mary squeezed his hand comfortingly.
"Papa trusted you. Even if he needed some time to wrap his head around some of your ideas, he would have gotten there in the end, I'm sure."
Matthew sighed.
"But he thought I don't understand the responsibilities of this way of life. He thought I'm a bean-counter."
"Well, you are in the way," pointed out Mary teasingly. Matthew pretended to pout.
"Darling, it's the bean-counters who'll survive and, anyway, I'm a bean-counter with a heart."
Mary smiled at him and raised their joined hands to kiss his.
"Of course you are. One needs to just look at Mr Drewe to realise that. You know that Papa would have approved wholeheartedly what you have done in that case at least?"
"I know," answered Matthew, squeezing her hand in gratitude. "As I said before, it was the thought of him which in the end swayed me."
"And he would have appreciated it more than you can know," said Mary feelingly. "One thing Papa was always adamant about was they we aren't the owners of Downton, but caretakers. He cared about leaving a legacy. He might have questioned particular decisions or ideas, but he would have loved that you are working so hard to leave a legacy for our children."
She bit her tongue too late, irritated with her slip, but fortunately Matthew was too moved by her passionate words to notice.
"We are working hard," he stressed. "We are partners in it, Mary, and your input is just as valuable and necessary as mine. I could not imagine a better one, truly."
The only response Mary found to such statement was to give him a kiss, which he returned with enthusiasm.
"Now, hurry up," he said with a boyish smile when their lips separated.
"Why?" asked Mary, raising her eyebrows in question.
"Because there isn't long before dinner. We've got work to do."
"You should have thought of that before you sent the car away," pointed out Mary laughingly as they ran towards the house hand in hand.
Dining room, Downton Abbey, June 11th, 1922
Matthew and Mary made it on time to dinner.
Barely.
"How's my birthday dinner coming on?" asked Matthew mischievously.
"How do you know about the dinner?" exclaimed Rose, aghast.
"The Harvells rang yesterday and said they'd love to come."
"Weren't we all sworn to secrecy?" asked Tom laughingly.
"Golly, people are so hopeless," groaned Cora.
"I don't mind. It won't spoil it if it's not a surprise. Not for me," said Matthew easily, amused by their exaggerated reactions.
"There may still be a surprise," said Rose with rather alarming gleam in her eye.
"So I should hope!" answered Matthew bravely, rising his glass to her. Whatever she had planned, couldn't be so bad, could it?
Then again, it was Rose.
Drawing room, Downton Abbey, June 11th, 1922
When the men joined the women in the drawing room, Mary approached Charles Blake again. For all her dislike of him, she could not dismiss some of what he was saying and it troubled her.
"Is it just lack of money, why these places are all failing?"
"Usually."
"But why is that?"
"Because so few owners make the most of what an estate has to offer. So few think about income. So few are ready to adjust their way of life."
"But you have to understand what these people are used to."
"No. They have to understand it's time to get used to something different. They think nothing needs to change. That God will be upset if the old order is overturned."
"And you don't think He will be?"
"No. To farm an estate is hard work, and never more than now. The owners must face up to that, or they don't deserve to keep what they have."
Evelyn joined them tentatively. Mary noted with amusement that he was probably wary of being dragged into yet another dispute between her and his boss.
"You look very intense."
"Mr Blake was saying he finds people like you and me infuriating," said Mary with a smirk, making Blake scoff.
"I think I should point out, Charles -"
"I think we better call it a night. We have an early day tomorrow," Blake cut him off and, with a percursory bow to Mary, walked out.
Mary huffed in annoyance.
"Why is he always so superior?"
"He's frustrated by all the families who are giving in. The axe falls and they do nothing to fight back."
"But if they can't afford to go on?"
"But in many cases, they could if they'd take a new approach to their inheritance, instead of watching it being carted away in boxes to be sold."
Mary frowned.
"He can't think we're doing that."
"Well, no. But he doubts you'd fight if it came to it."
Mary thought wryly that Mr Blake did not know her at all if he could assume that. He could just ask Matthew if he wanted to know how determined she could be to fight to keep Downton.
"He says you're aloof," continued Evelyn apologetically.
That startled her a bit.
"Aloof? Well, I hope you've stuck up for me."
"Of course I did, but, well..." Evelyn blushed a bit.
"Go on."
"Charles thinks I'm blind where you're concerned."
Mary smiled the matter away, unwilling to embarrass him.
The matter of falling estates and Charles Blake's views of their owners continued to trouble her though.
Bates' Cottage, Downton Village, June 11th, 1922
Anna threw a sharp look at her husband as she was getting ready for bed. John always had a tendency to brood, but on the whole way back from London he barely said two words to her without her prompting him and his mood did not improve since then.
"Is there anything bothering you?" she asked, observing him closely. With John it was often what he didn't say that was more important.
He grimaced, then smiled at her sheepishly.
"You married a brooder. Brooders brood."
She shook her head at him smilingly and gave him a quick kiss before getting into bed. She would have to wait until he was ready to talk then.
"Anna," he asked hesitantly as he turned off the lamp and got into bed himself. "You would tell me if anybody hurt you, wouldn't you?"
Anna froze. She was grateful for the deep darkness enveloping their bedroom.
"Of course," she said brightly. "Why wouldn't I?"
She heard John sigh and cuddled into his embrace, hiding her racing thoughts until she could ponder them away from him.
Mary and Matthew's bedroom, Downton Abbey, June 18th 1922
Mary was woken up by a light knock on the bedroom door, indicating that Nanny Lewis brought George for his morning nursing and cuddle. She got up, sending a quick look at Matthew on her way to the door, glad that he was still asleep. It was the morning of his birthday and she wanted to wake him up herself.
She smiled in response to George wide grin and flailing hands when he saw her and picked him deftly from Nanny Lewis.
"I see somebody woke up in a good mood?" she asked, tickling George under his chin and making him giggle. Oh, he truly was adorable!
"Yes, your ladyship. Bright as a ray of sunshine today."
"Maybe he understood me on some level when I told him he must be a good boy for his papa's birthday," said Mary, holding George tighter. He was getting quite heavy. "Don't come to fetch him, I expect he will stay with us for breakfast. We will bring him to the nursery when I will be ready to get dressed."
She locked the door and carried George to bed where he promptly settled in her lap for his morning milk. Mary smiled at him wryly.
"Enjoy it while it lasts, you little glutton. From what the doctor said, the milk might dry up soon enough to get ready for your sibling."
Heedless of the ominous words spelling the end of such lovely morning sessions, George cuddled into her and nursed with enthusiasm, staring at his mama lovingly, as she was slowly petting his wispy curls. She thought briefly that she was going to miss those moments with him, for all their occasional discomfort.
Of course, soon there would be another baby demanding it from her. She groaned inwardly at the thought of returning to interrupted nights and feedings every two or three hours. Newborns were slave drivers.
She noticed Matthew's eyelashes fluttering when George was finishing. She bent down to kiss him.
"Good morning, birthday boy," she said, smiling against his lips when he kissed her passionately back, despite his eyes remaining closed and him obviously still fighting the clutches of sleep.
"Best way to wake up," he said feelingly, opening his eyes finally to reveal their startling blue colour and adoring expression, so perfectly replicated in George.
Who squealed happily at the sight of his papa being awake and promptly crawled on his chest.
"Good morning to you too, little chap!" laughed Matthew, sitting up and lifting George up in the air in their favourite game.
Mary felt her heart melting, looking at their antics and their obvious mutual joy in each other.
She had always known that Matthew was going to be an amazing father and she loved seeing daily proof how right she had been about it. Ever from those first precious moments at the hospital it had been patently obvious that Matthew adored his son with every fiber of his being.
She pulled the cord for Anna, who arrived few minutes later with a heavier than normal tray.
"Happy birthday, my lord," she said brightly, settling it on the side table, and stifling a smile of her own at the sight of George climbing all over him.
"Thank you, Anna," answered Matthew from under his exuberant son, looking with slight puzzlement at the abundance of food on the tray. Before he could enquire further, Anna curtsied and left the room, so he looked questioningly at Mary.
"I thought we could eat here together today," she said placidly, pouring him a cup which he accepted gratefully after gently setting George down on the floor to explore the bedroom on all four. "We can celebrate."
"Celebrate my birthday?" asked Matthew, observing his wife's graceful movements as she poured tea for herself and settled next to him in bed.
Mary smiled mysteriously.
"Yes," she answered. "And your birthday present too."
She pretended to ponder the matter seriously.
"Come to think of it, it's going to be a present for George's birthday too, and mine. And a Christmas gift for all three of us, considering that it most likely will arrive only in about seven months from now."
She was watching dawning comprehension on Matthew's face, followed immediately by most heartfelt delight.
"Mary, are you...?" he asked breathlessly.
Mary nodded with a brilliant smile.
Matthew put away his teacup carelessly, sloshing some of the tea, and gathered her in his arms for a searing kiss.
"How long have you known?" he asked, the wide grin still on his face. He touched Mary's still flat belly reverently.
"Just several weeks. I'm only about two months along."
Matthew's eyebrows shot up.
"You've known for weeks? Why haven't you told me earlier?"
"At first I wasn't sure and then it was so close to your birthday that I wanted to wait until today. How could I resist having such a perfect present for you?"
Matthew kissed her again.
"It is truly the best present, darling. Absolutely marvellous."
He got out of bed and picked George up, hugging him tightly.
"Have you heard, George? You're going to have a little brother or sister!"
George squealed happily as Matthew brought him back to the bed and kissed Mary for the third time.
"It's the best birthday I've ever had," he said throatily, feeling once again as if he swallowed a box of fireworks.
Dining room, Downton Abbey, June 18th, 1922
"A letter for your ladyship," said Barrow, handing it to Edith on a small silver tray together with a letter opener. Edith swallowed nervously.
"Thank you, Barrow," she said, picking up the offered items. Barrow bowed slightly and left Edith alone, with only Carson by the sideboard. Matthew and Rose were not yet down for some reason, and Cora and Mary were eating their breakfast in bed.
Edith looked quickly at Carson, but he was placed too far to be able to see anything. With a bracing sigh, she cut the envelope open.
For all her bracing, she barely stifled her gasp at the typed letters spelling out in no uncertain terms that she was, in fact, pregnant. She expected this news, for all she was trying to deceive herself about the cause of the symptoms she was experiencing, but to see it so stark, black on white, was still somehow a terrible blow.
There was no reason to postpone it anymore, no doubts left. She had to talk with Michael.
Matthew was still not down yet, but she didn't think he would have begrudged her the use of his study. She glanced at the clock, if she hurried, she should still be able to catch Michael at his Berlin hotel before he left for the day.
She was not very hungry anyway.
Matthew's study, Downton Abbey, June 18th, 1922
"Darling! What an unexpected but lovely surprise!" exclaimed Michael when he was finally summoned to the phone. Oh God, it was so wonderful to hear his voice! Edith's heart clenched even harder with longing for him.
"I missed you," she said honestly, "and I wanted to ask, if you know how long it will take you now to complete your business there?"
Michael laughed quietly in this way she loved so desperately much.
"I do have good news on this front, actually," he said cheerfully. "I managed to put everything in motion. According to German citizenship law, it can be awarded to a foreigner who works as a state official in Germany and, you see, the teachers here are considered state officials and I just had it confirmed that I have been accepted as an English teacher at a gymnasium here in Berlin starting from September. Now I am going to search for a suitable flat as my permanent residence and I should be on a straight path to becoming a German. Do you think you could come and help me pick it?"
"Maybe," said Edith evasively. "Congratulations on the job, of course. But how long will it take?"
"A little while, I'm afraid," answered Michael apologetically. "I will apply as soon as I start working, but the request will have to be approved by the authorities of every German land separately, so my lawyers tell me that it will be six months at the least, up to a year even. And then the divorce will take at minimum another six months. But it will pass quicker than we think, surely, especially if I succeed in talking you into visiting me here."
Edith closed her eyes. The math wasn't complicated. There was no chance for their child to be born in wedlock.
"Maybe I will," she said, hoping that the crackling of the international phone connection would disguise the tears in her voice. "But I have some matters I have to see to first."
Cora's sitting room, Downton Abbey, June 18th, 1922
Cora was busy pondering a letter of her own.
Her mother again invited her for an extended visit to Newport, saying that a change of scenery would be sure to do her a lot of good. The invitation was one of many – mother had been raising the topic periodically since the end of the war – but for the first time Cora found herself seriously considering it.
She hadn't been to America since her last visit there with Robert and the girls in 1910, after Mary's successful debut. Her eyes glistened, remembering how exuberant fourteen year old Sybil was on that trip. Darling Sybil! It had been two years since that horrible, horrible night she had died and Cora still was nowhere close to accepting it.
Could she go to another continent and leave Sybil's daughter behind? And the grandson who had brought Robert so much joy in that brief hour before the accident? Her heart ached at the thought and yet she was more and more convinced that this was the right thing to do for her. She stayed at Downton after Robert's death, defying the custom in her overwhelming grief, but the truth was it was not her home anymore. It belonged to Mary and Matthew now; and even though neither of them gave her the slightest hint that they resented the situation, they deserved to have their home to themselves. Cora smiled wryly, remembering her relief when Violet moved out after Robert's father's death. She hoped of course that she wasn't the type of mother-in-law her own was, but still, it was time to let them live on their own. America could give her enough distance to decide what she wanted for herself in the future. Because now, nine months after losing Robert, Cora was slowly realising that she had a future. She was just fifty four years old, it was quite reasonable to expect that she would live for decades yet. Her dower portion, while just a small part of her original dowry, was generous enough that she had plenty of options. She just had to figure out what she wanted.
And she had to admit that a small part of her was excited to see all the changes in America mother was writing about.
Her only concern were Edith and Rose. She did promise Susan to take care of her daughter and she treated her promise seriously. But surely Mary and Matthew would look after her – they were already doing it while Cora was too lost in her grief to be of much use to anyone – and Rose's debut was still a year away. She would have plenty of time to come back for Rose's presentation. And even if she didn't... Mary was the Countess of Grantham now. She could present her cousin herself, if she needed.
And as for Edith, maybe it wouldn't hurt to take her to America as well. Maybe she would find some more suitable man there, someone with less complicated circumstances. She had suffered for far too long living under Mary's shadow and Cora was convinced that she would shine as a daughter of an earl in the drawing rooms of Newport and New York.
Yes, Cora's mind was quite made up.
Library, Downton Abbey, June 18th, 1922
The tea in the library was quite a lively affair since they were joined by Tom coming from the agent's house for a visit with Sybbie, to the delight of Cora and Rose who immediately got on the task of entertaining the little girl and spoiling her with sweets. The happy scene was soon further enhanced by Nanny Lewis bringing George down.
"There you are, little chap! Look who came to visit us," said Matthew, reaching immediately for his son with a wide, fond smile. George practically jumped into his papa's arms, babbling excitedly to him and reaching playfully for his nose, with Matthew backing off with a laugh and putting him high up in the air instead, making the baby shriek with joy.
"It will be your own fault if he pukes his tea all over you," warned Mary dryly, but Edith could see the smile on her face and the way her whole features softened while observing her husband with their child. Nobody who knew her sister could ever miss the fierce love she obviously felt for them, however hard she tried to keep her unperturbed image.
She imagined briefly how Michael would be with their baby and had to excuse herself from the library, lest she would burst into tears.
Dining room, Downton Abbey, June 18th, 1922
With her stomach in knots, Edith announced at dinner that she would be going to London following morning.
"But why London? You've only just got back," asked Cora in surprise.
"Something's come up," answered Edith evasively, picking Mary's curiosity. Edith wasn't usually so mysterious.
"What?" she asked.
"She doesn't have to justify herself whenever she leaves the house," chided Matthew, earning Edith's grateful look.
"Thank you, Matthew, but I don't mind. I've had some bad news, that's all. I need to go up to London to sort it out."
"What sort of bad news?" asked Mary again, too curious to let it go.
"Never mind. It's not our business," said Matthew again, throwing her a quelling look. Mary acquiesced with a sigh. It probably wasn't anything terribly interesting anyway.
"I have an announcement," said Cora, drawing everyone's attention away from Edith. "My mother invited me to America for an extended stay and I decided to accept it. I think I would go in the beginning of July. Baxter already agreed to go with me."
For a moment, everyone was speechless.
"Can I go with you? I would love to see America!" exclaimed Rose, pulling them out of their shock.
"I don't think so," said Cora gently. "I don't think your parents would approve that. But I must ask, of course – Matthew, Mary, are you alright with taking responsibility for Rose while I'm away?"
"Of course," answered Matthew. "But I hope you're not leaving because of us? Because Downton is your home and you may stay here indefinitely if you want."
"Not at all," assured him Cora immediately. "I just feel like I need to get away for a bit and consider my options. But thank you so much for saying it, Matthew. You don't know how much I appreciate it."
"He spoke for both of us, Mama," added Mary urgently. "If you find out that Grandmama drives you mad and you want to come home, you will be very welcome here."
Cora nodded with a grateful smile, than looked at Edith.
"Would you like to come with me, Edith? Grandmama said that she would love to have you."
"I... I cannot right now," answered Edith dazedly. "I have to take care of some things for Michael while he is away. But maybe I will join you later if you stay there for longer."
"We will try to make sure you have some fun here with us, Rose," said Matthew, seeing rather wistful expression on her face. "I know Downton can hardly compare to America, but we are at the end of our mourning and I expect you will find out that the life here will get a bit livelier."
"I'm sure they will!" brightened up Rose. "Starting with your birthday dinner on Friday!"
Matthew stifled a laugh at the wary expression on everyone's faces.
Drawing room, Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, June 19th, 1922
"What do you mean, you'll be 'out' tomorrow night?" asked Rosamund suspiciously.
Edith shrugged.
"I'll be away, but I don't want Mama to know. It's not very difficult."
"It is difficult for me. To be put in a position of disloyal falsehood where your mother is concerned."
"You said yourself I'm a grown woman and you're not a spy."
"The last time you did this you were with your Mr Gregson, weren't you? So it can't be a repetition."
Edith couldn't help it, she really couldn't. She burst into tears, making Rosamund continue in a much kinder tone.
"Oh, my dear. My dear," she sat down next to Edith and took her into her arms. "You have discovered that some choices have consequences, haven't you?"
Her words were harsh, but her voice was kind. Edith could only nod, overwhelmed by the completely unexpected understanding.
"And what has Mr Gregson said about it?" asked Rosamund delicately, patting Edith's back comfortingly.
"Nothing. He doesn't know," sobbed Edith.
"Why in heavens not? You didn't get pregnant by yourself."
"What's the point? I talked with him. He will need probably a year and a half to get free and be able to marry me. I cannot wait so long, obviously. So what's the point of telling him if he cannot help me and it will only distress him for no reason?"
"So what do you propose to do since you don't want to inform him?"
"It's... hard to say the words, but... I've decided to get rid of it," said Edith, her chin and lips trembling.
That managed to truly shock Rosamund.
"How terrible it is to hear that," she said faintly.
"Please don't pretend you won't be relieved when I do."
"You're not being fair. I will support you whatever you decide, just as Cora will, and Robert would have."
"That sounds like a speech from 'The Second Mrs Tanqueray'. But you don't mean a word of it."
"I do," countered Rosamund firmly.
"So, I'd be welcome in your drawing room, would I? "Have you met my niece and her charming bastard?"
"I refuse to be shocked. But, what will you say when Mr Gregson walks through the door, free and willing to marry you?"
Edith shrugged helplessly.
"Nothing. I won't say a thing."
"And you will marry him?"
"If he still wants me to."
"So, your whole life will be based on a lie? Have you thought about that?"
"I am killing the wanted child of a man I'm in love with and you ask me if I've thought about it?" exclaimed Edith in a tortured tone and started crying again.
"I assume you'll be away for the night because you have booked into some -" Rosamund could barely bring herself to get the words out. "Some place where they will do this? How did you find it?"
"There was a magazine in the ladies' waiting room at King's Cross."
"You do realise it is quite illegal?"
"Of course."
"And dangerous! What will I say to your mother if it goes wrong? She already lost one child and her husband!"
"You'll think of something."
"Very well," said Rosamund determinedly. "If you've made up your mind, I shall come with you."
Drawing room, Downton Abbey, June 23rd, 1922
Mary was running late and sent him downstairs to welcome the guests instead of watching her getting ready as was his habit. They were mostly his friends anyway.
So Matthew greeted Jack Weatherby and Mary's cousin Freddie Wenthworth with his wife Anne when they arrived from the train station. He befriended Freddie during Sybil's season in 1914 when they bonded over being young working lawyers among a bunch of toffs who looked down on them and they remained friends ever since. Freddie lost his leg and his best friend in the war, but somehow he retained his irrepressible good humour.
Next car brought Peter Harvell, Matthew's former colleague and son of his former boss, with his wife Cynthia, and the one after Mother, Cousin Violet and Tom. With Cora, Rose, Edith, Evelyn Napier and Charles Blake already there, they all turned to look at Mary when she finally joined them in the drawing room.
She had always liked to make an entrance.
Tonight, she was dressed in a red dress, with long black gloves and shiny jet jewellery, with her hair dressed in a masterful and fetching way which was signature for Anna. She apologised charmingly for her lateness and sent Matthew a smile which made his knees weak.
Then she turned her back to him and Matthew's jaw dropped. Her dress exposed a significant part of it, dropping below her shoulder blades. To make it somehow worse, a jet necklace has been falling down the length of Mary's spine, swaying tantalisingly with her every move. Her hair was swept up in a fashion reminding him of a Greek or Roman statue and decorated with black jet as well. She looked like an Alphonse Mucha's painting. Matthew could not take his eyes off her.
He was vividly reminded of the very first time he had seen her naked back like that. It was when he came to the Abbey in the evening to ask Robert's advice on how to best explain to Cousin Violet that he had researched the entail thoroughly but had found it indeed unbreakable for all practical purposes. He had observed Mary walking to the drawing room, her back to him, her cream dress cut just as deep then as her red one now. While he had found her attractive from the very beginning - what red-blooded man with a pair of functioning eyes wouldn't? - this had been the first out of many moments when he had felt a wave of sheer lust coursing through his veins. The memory of that dress and that back had been burnt permanently into his brain.
He had a feeling the image in front of him was going to do the same.
Dining room, Downton Abbey, June 23rd, 1922
Edith sat among mostly young and exuberant crowd of people and half-heartedly tried to fit in. The dinner was to celebrate Matthew's thirty seventh birthday after all and she liked Matthew, despite his grevious fault of falling for her sister of all people. She didn't want to put a damper on his evening.
She was seated between Evelyn Napier and Charles Blake, which helped her immensely. They were both perfectly willing to discuss current issues with her and lifted her spirits considerably by both listening to her opinions and praising her insight. She thought with regret that with their research close to wrapping up, they were both going to depart shortly.
Then she remembered forlornly that so was she.
Whether she accepted Aunt Rosamund's plan or thought of some alternative to it, it was clear as day that she could not remain at Downton much longer. Not after she couldn't force herself to go through with her initial plan of ending her pregnancy. She was only two months along, there was still time to plan, but she could feel every hours, every minute even, racing to bring her close to the moment when she had to flee or face the scandal she brought upon herself.
And with what she later considered the perfect embodiment of her luck, Matthew announced that his wonderful wife was going to make him a father for the second time.
Edith dutifully joined the flurry of congratulations and well-wishes that followed his announcement, with only a dry smile betraying the black humour she felt at the thought of sharing one of her own.
"I'm catching the ladies' eye," said Mary finally. Everyone got up to give the ladies the chance to withdraw, when Rose protested loudly.
"Oh, no!"
"Rose?" inquired Mary, perplexed.
"No. We're not splitting tonight. We're all going out together," said Rose and disappeared briefly into the hall.
"What on earth is she talking about?" asked Mary with a frown, only to be answered by the sudden sound of jazz music – and way too loud to be coming out of the gramophone.
Rose rushed back in and exclaimed, among laughter:
"Happy Birthday, Matthew!"
Great Hall, Downton Abbey, June 23rd, 1922
Rose pulled Matthew out into the Great Hall by his hand as Jack Ross was singing 'I'm just wild about Harry'. He recognised him instantly.
"Your gallant rescuer?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Rose nodded excitedly.
"Yes! And isn't he brilliant? I remembered that you and Mary enjoyed dancing to this band so much."
Matthew coughed slightly in embarrassment, remembering very well indeed just how much he and Mary enjoyed themselves that night.
Considering the gathered crowd, it took them just a moment to enthusiastically break into dancing. Freddie was dancing with Anne, not at all hindered by the fact that his prosthetic leg was turning his steps into something more resembling hops and made him look faintly ridiculous. The grin of delight on his face was lighting up the room. Peter and Cynthia Harvell were showing off their mastery of modern dances with flair belying their respectable appearance and Jack Weatherby was doing the same with overjoyed Rose. Evelyn Napier was leading smiling Cora, while Tom bravely asked Violet to dance. Even Edith, usually subdued tonight, was smiling in the energetic dance with Charles Blake.
Twirling with his amazing wife in his arms, Matthew thought again that he couldn't remember a better birthday.
"Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Grantham?" he asked Mary with a grin.
"I do think it was a brilliant idea. But it must be costing Rose a fortune. Shall we chip in?"
"Or pay it. Get the bandleader to send me the bill."
"I'll go down at the end of the night and catch him before he leaves."
"But since he is not going anywhere yet, let's take full advantage of it," said Matthew, pulling her closer for another dance.
Upstairs hallway, Downton Abbey, June 23rd, 1922
John Bates was waiting patiently in the doorway of Lord Grantham's dressing room. He still found himself sometimes in need of reminding that it was Mr Matthew now who held the title belonging for so long to his dear friend. Because he and Robert Crawley had been friends, for all the consciousness of their respective places in life that they both acknowledged.
He liked working for the present Lord Grantham – he had always liked and respected Matthew Crawley – but he did miss his friend.
Now though he was waiting here for somebody else, using his duties just as an excuse to justify his presence in the family wing.
At last, he spotted the graceful figure of Nanny Lewis leaving the nursery to see to her own supper after settling Master George (or Lord Downton, as Mr Carson insisted on calling him) for the night.
Bates approached her as quickly as his busted leg allowed him.
"Excuse me for detaining you, Miss Lewis," he said politely, but in a tone allowing no opposition. "But could we talk for a moment? I promise I won't keep you long."
Miss Lewis looked startled, but agreed, sending a quick look at the nursery.
"Master George should hopefully sleep through the night," she said. "But I do not like to leave him alone for long when nobody is here yet. What do you want to talk about, Mr Bates?"
Bates looked at her intently. They were alone here, with the family and the guests enjoying themselves downstairs and the rest of the servants either seeing to their needs or having a well deserved rest after the long day.
"I want you to ask what you witnessed of that bastard Green attacking my wife."
Servants' hall, Downton Abbey, June 23rd, 1922
At the end of the long evening, Mary walked down the stairs, still elated from the dancing. The unexpected sight in front of her stopped her short.
In the darkness of the servants' hall, she could see two people embracing, kissing and laughing softly, and she hoped with all her might that she guessed their identities wrong.
"Is anyone still awake?" she asked loudly.
The couple in the servants' hall broke apart, and Rose came hurrying out.
"Mary? What are you doing down here?"
"I was looking for Mr Ross."
Predictably, Jack Ross followed Rose out into the corridor.
"Mr Ross, I wanted to thank you for a marvellous evening. And also to ask you if you would be kind enough to send the bill to His Lordship," said Mary with perfect politeness.
"But that's not necessary," protested Rose.
"He wants to. He says your present was arranging the whole thing."
"Of course. And now it's my turn to thank you. I've been so well looked after here."
"I'm glad to hear it. Well, goodnight."
Mary turned and walked back up the stairs. Rose and Jack Ross looked at each other guiltily, knowing they were caught.
On her way upstairs, Mary only sighed and rolled her eyes.
Matthew and Mary's bedroom, June 23rd, 1922
Matthew was already in bed when Mary walked in in her dressing gown, returning from a bath.
"Well, it's not often that a birthday surprise really is a surprise."
"I just hope we haven't shocked the servants too much. Carson was ready to faint," commented Mary drily and sat down at her vanity to apply her cold cream.
Matthew laughed.
"Although, amazingly, he told me that the bandleader was 'a very decent fellow, my lord'. So perhaps we'll make a modern of him after all."
"I doubt it. And, speaking of modern people, I'm afraid I have something to report about Rose."
Matthew groaned and covered his face with his arm.
"Don't tell me, she fell for Jack?" he said, remembering how much fun they had while dancing together.
"If you mean your friend Mr Weatherby, then no. But if you mean Mr Ross, I applaud your insight."
Matthew raised his arm and stared at Mary in disbelief.
"Surely you must be joking," Mary's look was enough to make him flop back against the pillows. "You're not joking. Damn. How do you know?"
"I caught them kissing in the kitchen," answered Mary matter-of-factly, screwing the lid of the cold cream's jar. "We will have to talk with her tomorrow, I didn't have the energy tonight."
Matthew groaned again.
"I fervently hope this new baby is a boy," he announced. "Girls are obviously much bigger trouble."
