"The deed to the estate!" Robert's mouth gaped, outraged, "And a million pound sum as a ranson payment!"
Lord Grantham was holding the letter of demands from the captors. He had just finished reading through the requests. Cora was at his side, reading the words over and over again. Her face was a picture of anguish and anxiety.
Captain Redford was back, looking grim.
"This was the only communication we received from the kidnappers, My Lord."
"They mean to make fools of us all with this debauchery," Lord Grantham fumed, "To burn the reputation of this family and its name. To decompose the structure of this town!"
"Robert," Cora intervened, "You must remain calm. We must think of the children, of Thomas."
"Their welfare is all I can think about," Robert argued in return, "Yet, there must be some way to maintain the integrity of this house and rescue them as well. We cannot and will not let these bastards best us so easily."
One look at Cora's miserable expression and Robert took her hands, "My love, I do not mean to abandon our family or Thomas. However, they are strong souls with wills of iron. We must trust that Mary, Tom, and Thomas can fend for themselves against these devious captors while we create the best solution to rescue them. And we will rescue them."
Edith stepped forward, "Father is right, Mama," she spoke meakly, "Yes, they have taken those we love, but we cannot sacrifice our entire lives so easily without a fight. Mary, Tom, and Thomas can protect themselves and George in the meanwhile."
Cora sighed reluctantly, "I fear the worst, but I agree."
Robert nodded, "Captain, gather your forces. We must discuss a forceful solution. I will not rest until my family is returned to me."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
"Darling!" Mr. Fox scrambled to his feet and was at Mrs. Fox's side in an instant. Mary held her breath, eyes glued to Tom and the knife Mr. Stillman had pressed to his throat, "I-I was just administering first aid to the servant, Thomas."
"We agreed that his death was of no importance to us," she said icily, "he is irrelevant in our plans to seize the estate, he's just a servant."
"And a human being!" Mary retorted.
"Enough!" Mrs. Fox snapped, "One more wrong word from you, Lady Mary, and Mr. Stillman will be very eager to use his knife against your dear brother-in-law!"
"I thought you needed me alive," Tom spoke cautiously from Mr. Stillman's hold.
"We do," Mrs. Fox smiled wickedly, "But nobody said you needed to be delivered alive and unharmed."
Mary tensed.
"Or better yet," Mrs. Fox grinned further, "we can touch your precious little George."
"Leave the boy out of this!" a pale Thomas clutched his side as he attempted to sit upright, yet his tone was defiant. He seemed to have just regained consciousness.
Mary surveyed the scene. Stillman had Tom in a headlock with a knife pressed to his jugular. Thomas was near death and bleeding out beside her. Mrs. Fox was calling all the shots and Mr. Fox, her only hope, was complicit at her side. George was nowhere to be seen, and the crazed woman had just threatened his safety. Her options were slim. She had to concede.
"Alright," Mary kept her icy cool, "I will do what you would like. Downton is yours, but you will not harm my family."
Mrs. Fox lifted her chin in dominance, "I am glad you could finally see reason. Darling," she glared at Mr. Fox who just stared at the floor, "get the boy."
"You said you would not hurt him!" Mary growled.
"I do not plan to," she retorted, "but that is entirely reliant on you, Lady Mary. If this transaction proceeds smoothly, you will see your boy again."
Mr. Stillman roughly let Tom go. He stumbled down the stairs and landed roughly in the hay below, cursing. Mr. Fox, Mrs. Fox, and Mr. Stillman climbed out of the cellar. Mrs. Fox's face appeared through the doorway above, "We will return shortly. Get your affairs in order."
The cellar door closed.
"Thomas!" Tom scrambled over to the bleeding man, hands still bound behind him, "Are you alright?"
"Better now," he nodded weakly, "thanks to Milady."
"I'm only sorry I could not do more," she dipped her head, "Tom?"
"I'm alright," he huffed, "just a little rattled is all," he gave her a long look, "Mary, you're not seriously thinking of negotiating."
"We must," she said resolutely, "there is only so much farther we can go on ruses and lies. Mrs. Fox is too cunning."
"Damned woman," Thomas shook his head.
"What are you planning?" Tom looked to Mary.
"Let them return with George," she tried to calm the beating of her heart, "we will 'negotiate' until we see an opportunity to contact Downton of our whereabouts."
"We don't even know where we are!" Tom said, exasperated.
"Leave it to me," Thomas sat up a little straighter, "I can find out."
"You can barely stand!" Mary opposed.
"Trust me, Milady," Thomas remained firm.
The cellar door opened again.
Mary's stomach caught in her throat. Her heart beat so fast, it threatened to burst from her chest. There was George. Her boy. He was gently ushered down the stairs by Mr. Stillman. The valet's scarred, burly hands were too close to his neck for her liking. Given his stature, size, and violent nature, he could easily kill her son. She strayed away from these dark thoughts.
"We will need your signatures, Tom and Lady Mary, to begin the transfer of the estate," Mrs. Fox smiled, producing official documents from the County of Yorkshire's recorder's office.
Mr. Fox carefully undid the binds on their hands and each were given an ink pen. Both of them sheepishly held one in their hands, flexing their aching wrists. Mary had half a mind to run and fight, but Mr. Stillman's hands on George's collar kept her at bay. Tom and Thomas did not dare a risky escape either.
Mrs. Fox placed the document before them both. Mary could see panic in Tom's eyes, he could not believe they were at this point. The point of signing Downton away to these crooks. Mary's own sentiments were identical, and she was willing for Thomas to go to action. The man told her to trust him, and she did.
Just as the ballpoint tip of her pen touched the document, Thomas reacted. With his shoes, he kicked at a loose pile of gravel at his side. The gravel soared into Mr. Stillman and the Foxes' eyes. They all recoiled and flinched, groaning.
"Run, George!" Thomas shouted.
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