Going dancing meant using the awkward braces. He couldn't do much of it anyway, but on the other hand it was dancing with her. Matthew was found it was a relief when the majority of the attendants were disabled veterans. He was still weary and on high alert when he went out in public, an instinct that would always be there. Left over from the war perhaps, taking it's place. He couldn't quite get used to the stares from quote 'normal people"
When he had gone out with Johnny and Tom and Rose, to see him preform, he had shut off his caring, emotion, nearly all feeling. He could channel that into something positive, this time not having to shut himself off anymore. It still made him uncomfortable, yes, when he feels their stares.
I don't mind young children doing it, they are legitimately surprised and intrigued. Adults however, annoy me as they should know better in most cases. If the adult is making rude comments or assumes my "damaged" body also implies a "damaged" mind or something similar, I will be very offended.
That had always annoyed him, bringing back his encounter with Jarvis. Also when they assume that he can't go certain things for himself.
If anyone offers help I don't need, I will explain it is not necessary, but end up doing it anyway. The only time I accept it, is from my wife. From anyone else it is demeaning and insulting. Everything is black and white for people , normal and abnormal, that's the problem. According to people, having an intact and functioning body is considered normal, but have a part or more not working is considered abnormal – so when we do something as miniscule as pushing our own wheelchair, some, a small majority of people, think that we're an inspiration or we're brave.
They weren't brave or heroes. Maybe brave but he would never call himself a hero. He was just a man with flaws. However there is still a very small part of him that believes that this is his punishment. Very small compared to what it was before.
Deep inside my heart, it gives me immense pain to realize the fact that I am not recognized as a person. Not toward myself but for them, that they think this way.
Other than that, he didn't give a care. It didn't bother him what people think. Here, he could be comfortable. No one asked where or how they had gotten their injuries. They could be comfortable in their own skin, be themselves. Though Charlie's paralysis he hadn't received in the war, no one asked or bothered to care. They were a classified group of their own. In a strange way, Matthew was glad of being a part of.
Evelyn and Tom joined them for dinner afterwards. Evelyn had brought a surprise guest. Mrs. Duper. They even announced that they were engaged. Congratulations were made.
"He certainty works fast, who would have thought." Mary said to Matthew, making sure that he could only hear.
"Who would have thought," He said, agreeing, " that our dear old Evelyn would ever settle down had ever have children."
"Steady the brakes. I don't want to imagine little Napier's running around."
"Soon, we will have a little one running round." At his old age. He was forty-four, Mary was thirty-eight. He knew the older a woman got that there were risks, as evident with her mother. But Cora had been much older. There still could be a chance. But for now, as far as he was concerned, making the promise of 'let's start making babies" had been fulfilled, finally deciding that she was right. This would be their last one, unless they decided to have another in a few years time. "I believe my earlier promise of making babies has been fulfilled."
Edith made a special announcement of her own at dinner the following evening.
"Soon...Bertie and I will be starting a family of our own."
"That's wonderful news!" Robert rejoiced. "They'll be able to grow up together!"
"If only they get along and not anything like Mary and I were." Said Edith warily.
"If he is anything like me, they'd get on smashingly." Matthew said.
"It could be a girl." Mary interjected.
"If he or she is anything like me." Matthew turned to Bertie. "I think a congratulations is in order. To the new father to be."
"Thanks. Though I must say that I'm just as nervous as I am excited." Bertie admitted.
"Don't try to be too much around them when they're like that. They can smell it a mile off. Just take some time to relax. I think I have just the thing for that."
"What's that?"
"We never got that chance to go fishing."
It was strangely warm for autumn. They had been seeing a lot of Henry Talbot. He and Tom would often be seen together, talking about cars the majority of the time. George even took an interest, also fascinated with them, having played 'race car' with daddy's chair. He wanted to see a real race car and asked Henry if he could.
Henry said, "Instead of just seeing one, how about coming to see me race in Malta next weekend."
Mary gave a cautionary look.
Bent down to George's level, Henry quickly added that he would have to ask permission from his mother.
"Oh, Mummy, can I?"
"We'll have to see. If you're a good boy. And don't lie and tell me you were. Nanny will tell me."
Henry would also carry George on his shoulders but never in Matthew's presence. Had he so far been lucky or was deliberately doing it when he wasn't round? Mary confronted Henry on it, that he shouldn't be doing it at all. Surprisingly he had been fairly reasonable.
"I don't want to overstep boundaries and certainly wouldn't want to make him feel uncomfortable."
"Don't be mad at Henry, Mummy. He's my friend. I ask him to play piggy back. Sybie does too. He can do things daddy can't."
"I know but you must consider how your papa might feel."
"Henry's not daddy. He can't love me like daddy does."
"No." No one could replace that love.
Carson called on Lady Mary, announcing that Mr. Talbot has arrived.
"If he's here to see me, tell him I'm busy. He knows Tom's away..."
"Actually my Lady, he's here to see Mr. Crawley. They have scheduled to have drinks in the sitting room."
"Ah. Well, send him through then." Mary retreated before Carson showed him in.
"How's Charlie been?" Henry asked. "I see he's starting to be his old self again."
"I referred him to Jacobson."
"The specialist you've been seeing?"
"Yes."
"I think you don't take enough credit for it."
"How do you mean?"
"I think it's your influence more than anything. How you've been with...everything."
"Looks can be deceiving."
"I suppose they can." Henry was oblivious before the thought came across him, 'he thinks I'm barking up his territory.
"I would never become between you and your wife. She told me about her friend Tony when we met. What a cad he was." Hitting on a married pregnant woman. Who does that? "I've seen what it did to my friends. Making them act like fools over reason. Would have kept them alive during the war. Sorry."
"Don't be. Mary's is what got me through. Relatively in one piece."
"It's all a matter of perspective I suppose. And that there are some exceptions. But I must confess, my only one true love has ever been cars." He had nothing to worry about from him. He wondered if he was trying too hard.
"You and Tom have a lot in common there. In that department, I'm afraid I'm at a loss, despite my efforts. I was meant to be behind a desk or a book rather behind the wheel of a car. I was a man who believed in knowledge and reason, facts you find in books. I came to solely rely on them, until Mary came along that is. All sense and reason went out the window. But I'm glad it did. It showed me there were things that were far more important. It also took a war."
"It usually does. Different things that weren't important to a certain individual becomes important and others not so important. Things change from how you left them. You'd though they'd be the same, the people that you care about, you discover that they changed too, things are too different, you can't go on as things were before with that person...or place. I understand that you and Tom were close friends..." His eyes searched the man with sympathy. Here was a man so broken, he was mystified how Mary could do it or how Tom could stay, (for his daughter's sake maybe) maybe it was true love. Henry would never know.
"Too much has changed between us. But we've come to an understanding. So you and Tom, I saw you two bowing your heads together, quite often..."
"Tom and I have gotten on. He's looking for a job and I was thinking of taking him on as part of my team, as a mechanic."
Matthew got a sense that maybe he had been hurt by a woman one too many times. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Sometimes just being hurt by one woman was enough. It had almost ended that way for him and Mary, so many times. But fate, or God, the universe, whatever you wanted to call it, had pushed them back toward each other regardless how many times that same force tried to tare them apart.
It wasn't that he didn't personally trust Henry, not only because he didn't know him. He had a hard time trusting people. That's what four years being in a war does to people, in his case three. Henry had been an ambulance driver. Had his love for cars and racing stemmed from that? A way to feel connected to that world that still felt very real? It was a shame that he felt that way about love, after losing so many friends, you shut yourself off, pushed people away, put up your walls and locked all the doors. He had learned early on, when he finally started to feel, physically at least, that was no way to live. He had to let Mary love him. If anything happened to him, he couldn't see her with a man like this and he probably wouldn't approve and would come back to haunt them from beyond the grave.
Henry did seem a nice chap. He admired that he was going out of his way for Tom.
"That would be good for him. You're a good friend."
"I hope I can be. To you as well, that is." Henry thought for a moment. "I was about to go out, to practice for the next big race." He added, hoping he would take hint of the invitation, and he did.
"I'd like to come with you!"
"After that, maybe we can stop at a pub, have a few drinks."
"I was never really a pub man."
"Neither was I. That was before the war though."
True to his words, Henry spent his time more and more with Tom, or Matthew, avoiding Mary at any and all costs.
"Quite frankly, she scares me. Not relatively warm, is she?"
"Trust me, she's a completely different person when she's with me."
"That I'm going to have to take your word on."
Before the race, Mary was gathering some hors d'oeuvres for her and Matthew. God, she was starving. The finger foods were hardly going to fill her up. And it could be hours before they went to Aunt Rosamund's for dinner. The light meal would do good for Matthew and easy on his digestion, to avoid accidents. They would want to avoid those. There was nowhere for miles where he could change and the warm weather wouldn't help. It was nice that it was warm, and probably would be for a few more weeks. He would be able to get out before the weather started dropping. Then it was indoors for the rest of the winter. A last great hurrah before it was back to being a shut-in for a while.
Henry was talking about the race in Le Mans back in June, that he had missed. He wished he had attended but when he had heard about the eight car pile up, he considered himself fortunate, though there had been no casualties, that would most likely been the end of his racing career as he couldn't afford another car if his were to be put out of commission.
"Cars were only able to go up to twenty miles an hour ten years ago, now they can go up to sixty. No wonder there were so many crashes. People are unfamiliar with them. You got to train yourself to become familiar with them, tame it, think of a wild beast if it were."
"But if it's that dangerous, why even bother?" Mary asked, putting her two cents in. He'd been talking to Matthew, mainly avoiding her. The reversal of what would usually take place. Other people would address her first, before her husband or pretend he wasn't there at all.
"It's really just the thrill of it that matters. Once I was behind the wheel with the FANNY'S, being in control of an ambulance, racing through roads pitted by shells, and more coming at you, to get to the wounded, you have that power. Most of us don't want to ever let go of it."
The announcer came over the microphone for the racers to get ready.
Her father was clearly enjoying himself. "I can't yell Talbot, isn't that the name of a car? And I can't just yell Henry, they might all be called Henry."
Henry didn't end up winning.
Edith had hired another female editor, Laura Edmonds. She and Edith became very good friends because they were born in the same year. Their new column was about Victorian women living in a new age, which had been Mary guilty pleasure. She would often join them to see Henry's races. She and Tom seemed to hit it off and he seemed to be enchanted by her as they walked up the trial to the bleachers, talking adamantly.
The family was enchanted by her as well.
Miss Edmunds joined them for dinner afterwards. They were in the drawing room, waiting to be called in. Aunt Rosamund found her working for Fleet Street very impressive, as did Matthew.
Miss Edmonds had not appeared surprised when she saw him in a wheelchair. Tom must have told her.
"I have heard so much about you. Tom has told me the most nicest things. I told him I'd have to see for myself, about this best friend that has done so much for him."
"Did you now?" Matthew raised an eyebrow at Tom, a 'you sly dog' kind of look.
She sat down across from Matthew on the opposite sofa, listening intently as he spoke, her attention not once straying to the wheelchair. But Mary was on her haunches all evening and throughout the weekend. Not only was she was on her guard to protect her husband, Mary always had a jealous and mean streak.
The following week she joined them for a shooting party, shooting clay pigeons from the sky.
It turned out Miss Edmunds was well known and praised within the community. She had out done everyone during a round of billiards. Then they had gone outside to shoot.
Matthew even considered joining.
"I must admit I'm a bit out of practice. I never fired from a wheelchair before." Matthew was telling Miss Edmunds, Tom standing on the other side of him.
"I'm sure we'll figure something out." Tom assured. He did very well. The first clay pigeon went by well clear of the shot. But he clipped the next one.
"Not bad." Laura said, impressed.
She let the other men go before her, putting off her turn for as long as possible, till she was the last. She missed the first one but the others she didn't, one sporadically after the other, she hit dead center, even she would have out-shone Mary, if she didn't have to sit out due to her pregnancy.
"I wouldn't want to cross her, if I were you." Matthew whispered teasingly to Tom.
"Oh, shut up." Tom whispered back, pretending to be annoyed. "Just like I wouldn't want to cross Mary, now would I?"
Laura handed the rifle off to the servants.
"What? Not a third round?" Tom asked her.
"It's heavy. Daddy had some lighter guns for us girls. " His eyes seemed to dare her.
"Well done."
"Bravo." She was cheered by Robert.
"Miss Edmunds, I think you're a fibber." Tom said. "You must spend all your time practicing. Do you do anything else particularly well?"
"Nothing."
Laura was a rarity, one of few women who wasn't afraid to speak her mind or voice her opinions. And she smoked which was heavily frowned upon. Afterwards, Matthew had joined her. They confided in each other not to tell anyone of their habit.
"Especially my wife." He said. "She'd kill me."
""Does she not disapprove?"
"No. She thought I quit actually. I'm more of a cigar man."
"My father had his Tabaco pipe. Everyone has their vices." She produced a cigar for him. He stubbed out the cigarette and obliged. She was his new favorite person.
Tom was approaching them. Looks like they were caught anyway. But Tom wouldn't say anything.
Some time in the evening Laura and Mary were left alone in the drawing room.
"I think he's very charming, your husband."
"You mean for a man in a wheelchair?" Mary challenged.
"No! I've been enjoying our conversations."
They weren't alone for long.
"My dear, this young man here was just telling me how clever you are! I suppose you paint and sing too. I remember, it was your grandfather wasn't it, that was the painter? Have you inherited his gifts as well as your father's?" The speaker was one of their shooting party guests, a much older gentleman, Tom had come in with him.
"I can't really do anything, sir. Our governess thought us to sew a little and my mother taught us to cook."
"To cook! How extraordinary! You will make someone a fine wife someday."
Laura and Tom instinctively but nervously looked a each other. Laura was first to break away her gaze and look down at the floor.
"Cooking and sewing as well as billiards and shooting. Being your father's daughter, I take it you ride as well?"
One more month to go and Mary was finally starting to feel 'as big as a house' Matthew still marveled at the whole process.
I pray to God every chance I get, even at this very moment.. asking for that little girl or boy to have a healthy, safe and long life. I will do everything I can to see to that this happens.. Life is no fairytale, there will always be struggles, but the happiest moments of my life are mostly the ones I share with my wife, daughters and two sons.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her at dinner, wondering what he was thinking, his expression giving nothing away. Then his face broke into a grin. It vanished when he tucked into his food.
Robert and Rachel were out. It was just the younger people. Him, Mary, Tom and Henry. Henry was discussing about retiring from racing.
"Are you sure you won't miss it?" Tom asked.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I still love cars. You're not alone in that. I just...don't want to race anymore." He wasn't getting any younger and it wasn't doing his back any favors. Born in 1881, he was forty-six. It would be tactless to explain that reasoning. He made an exception for George's request for piggy back rides. But he would no longer do it. He'd have to ask Matthew if it was alright. He still felt that he had to watch what he said around Matthew or Charlie. Henry and Matthew were two sides of a different coin, they often clashed. Henry thought that the main reason Matthew put up with him because they were both friends with Tom.
"Then you'll have to find another way to express your love. One that isn't as dangerous." Mary said.
"More to the point, I have to find another job."
Carson refilled their glasses, his hand started to shake. He grabbed it forcibly with the other.
"Mr. Carson are you alright?" Tom asked.
"I can't think how I can..." He made a helpless gesture with his hands.
"Let me help, Mr. Carson." Molesley took the pitcher from him.
Mary got up from her chair and went over to him. He's not feeling well. He shouldn't be forced to work and feel miserable but she knew he would push through it, like someone else she knew. "You must rest, Carson. Do you want to sit here or go downstairs?"
"I'll go down I think, with your permission, my lady. I'll go down."
"Don't worry about a thing. Molesley will take care of us. Daniel, could you help Carson and find Mrs. Hughes? I'll go check on him later."
Mary knocked on Carson's office door, she would have rushed through the rest of the dinner but baby or her stomach wouldn't thank her for that, so she had eaten what she could, that would satisfy Matthew (he and his mother were always fussing to make sure she got enough nutrition, she knew they meant well and what it was regards to) before going down.
Mrs. Hughes excused herself as Mary entered.
"I'm not ill."
"I'm sure not." Maybe he was just exhausted. "But you may be tired and there's no shame in that." Having taken care of Matthew had made her more sympathetic and the need to look after others had increased, especially because she was a mother. The old her would despise herself, only because putting up walls had been her way of survival.
"Please don't concern yourself, my lady. You have more important things to worry about." She had a husband and a child on the way to take care off, she didn't need a crochety old man thrown into the mix. It couldn't be easy as it already was.
"Of course I'm concerned, Carson and you must help me. You know how dear you are to me, and if there are changes that need to be made, we mustn't be afraid to face them."
Henry accompanied Edith to London instead of Matthew. He was interested in the paper and Bertie was only alright with it when she had said that "he wants to place an advertisement to sell his car. And I'll be driving."
It wasn't a complete lie. That was part of his attentions but he wanted to get to know Matthew, how to get through to him. The best way to do that was got to someone who knew him. She was close friends with him and a women. He couldn't well ask his wife.
He did not feel as bad about giving her false pretenses when he found her tale of her mysterious news columnists amusing.
"Your grandmother's butler!"
"You must promise to keep it a secret."
"Won't she be furious?"
"If she finds out. Oh, don't tell Mary."
"Why not?"
"Oh, I don't know. She'll just make a thing of it. Look Matthew's Mary isn't the same as my Mary."
"You're a close friend of Matthew's, yes?"
"Yes." Edith hesitated, unsure why he would ask. "I am."
" I was wondering...I think I overstepped somehow."
"Well, you are friends with his wife."
"I'm friends with Tom not Mary. I want to be his friend as well. Your husband makes it seem so easy."
"Hardly."
"I can imagine it's nothing personal. He lost a lot of friends. I know what that's like."
"Just...Talk about his interests. Men like to talk about their work."
"Right."
Mrs. Hughes came into the kitchen, Miss Patmore had just finished making the tea for the servants, as well as the family
"Mr. Matthew and Lady Mary wouldn't be joining them, they would be going on a picnic with the children and the nanny.
"Nanny wants to take the children down to the park for a picnic. Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley will be joining them. So could you pack something light, some sandwiches instead of a full lunch, please." Mr. Crawley didn't eat heavily when he was going to be out or wouldn't be going upstairs immediately. No one thought of or asked why. No wonder he remained thin. Ever since he had come back, he did look like another person. His hair darker and his face with lines that weren't there before. Lady Mary seemed to marvel at the change or that could have very well been that she couldn't believe that she was really there, or indeed the same man.
No one was ever really is the same.
After he had been missing for nearly six weeks in 1916, his suitcase and valise had arrived, she had seen Lady Mary crying. She had seen that she wasn't cold hearted just as Carson had said she wasn't. Lady Mary had demanded her to get rid of it.
"It's not been nearly a month. Are you sure? He's only missing."
"Just get it out of here. I don't ever want to see it again."
Mrs. Hughes had held on to it, just in case, or she'd come to regret it if something happened to him, wishing she still had something of his.
"Very well. Can I give you a cup?" Miss Patmore asked.
"Don't mind if I do." She saw Carson come in out of the corner of her eyes. "Oh, just in time! Could you pour him one too, please? What brings you here?"
"Oh, I was just looking for Mr. Molesley." He grabbed the cup as she handed it to him, his hand started shaking. He once more grabbed it to steady it.
Rose and Attius were coming to stay through Christmas and the New Year. Everyone asked out the new baby when just the two of them had arrived. Rachel was the most eager.
"And where's the baby? And my other grandchild?"
"My grandchildren too." Robert reminded. Technically they were his step-grandchildren, also his step-cousins. The family tree would be a mess of confusion to future generations. That's always how it had been for generations.
"Oh, I'm afraid we didn't bring him. Vee's down taking a nap.
"Is that what you're calling her. Granny's namesake? It's so American." They turned to see Mary come down the stairs, rather slowly, one hand on the hand rail, the other on her stomach. "You still have to make up for not being able to make it in August."
"Mary!" She rushed to give her cousin a hug. "Oh, look at you!" She took Mary's hands, taking her in. "It doesn't seem not so long ago that you were having Katie."
"She's changed quite a bit. She's quite the book worm. Thank her father for that."
"Do you know when?"
"Any day now. You still didn't answer our question."
"Nanny wouldn't let us bring him."
"And you have to listen to what nanny says." Tom entered the room. "They can be such tyrants."
"Oh she kept on about diseases awaiting on board and all the germs he'd bring back to England. I nearly wept the whole voyage."
"Peter won't know we'll be gone that long. He can't even tell the difference of a few days passing."
"That's just the thing a man would say! Where's Cousin Matthew?"
"He's feeling exhausted and pretty sore right now." Mary replied, he had just finished with his exercises. "But he'll be joining us for dinner."
"I really hope so. We've brought pictures!" The family gathered and cooed over them. They were pictures of both their children Peter Vincent and Violet Rachel. "Isn't daddy supposed to be coming?" She asked Robert.
"He telephoned and said he'd be a little late but he hopes to make it in time for dinner."
"Darling Rose, it's so good to see you." Granny Violet said, finally getting a chance. She reminder her so much of Sybil. She imagined this is what her life would have been like if she lived in Boston with Tom, instead of it being Rose and Atticus in New York. But it does not dwell to dream. She pulled her great-niece into a hug.
"You too!"
"And Atticus."
"Wasn't he cunning to get the time off work? He's actually got a lot to do but we're pretending we're here for fun."
"Well, let's start the fun by having tea in the library." Mary said.
Rachel said that she had a meeting with the hospital board and it's patrons on Christmas Eve. Robert wasn't too happy or approving of it.
"It's only Christmas Eve and only in the morning.
Tom and Henry both spoke of a surprise they had in store. They didn't hint anything about their new business venture they had made. Henry had spoken to Matthew about his law practice and the terms of leasing a building. That didn't change things or win him over like Henry had expected it wouldn't. They weren't just compatible being more than acquaintances and Henry was fine with that. He knew it had nothing to do with his wife. The man had lost so much, seeing many friends die. So had Henry but he didn't push people away, or stopped making friends. Charlie was the exception because he was like Matthew, he supposed. He had found himself angry and hurt for the excuses.
He went upstairs to talk to him, after the cook had come up apologizing that it was going to take longer than expected. It was the perfect time to nip away.
"My wife and I are perfectly happy being each other's best friend, but we do have acquaintances. We are cordial, and speak to people, but when it comes to friends...friends come with strings, tend to overstep boundaries. If you haven't already seen how people treat us because of my condition. So we keep people at a distance. It's exhausting, we are not stingy, and if we help someone it should be, because we want to, not obligation."
"Aren't I not an obligation?"
"I was doing a favor for Tom."
"Oh, I see." Henry got up, clenching his jaw.
"I didn't mean for it..." He hadn't made it to come out that way. He already sensed it was a little to late. What they had hoped to have, hadn't even been there in the beginning.
Henry was out the door. He went outside to work on his car to blow off some steam.
"Aren't you freezing out here?"
"Mary." He raised his head and watched her approach him. "I'm used to the cold." She squinted at him, her mouth open about to say something. Then nods.
"Henry I need to talk to you. I don't think we can be friends."
"You don't think we can be friends." He laughed. "That's funny. Your husband said that, not those words exactly. I have no interest in you even before your attempt to put me off. Anyway I know that's not why he refuses to accept my friendship. He lost too many friends in the bloody war so it's nothing personally, right? So you can relax, my only interest is cars."
"Oh."
"You know the reason why? I saw a lot of my friends get hurt by women like you." The aura about her changed. It was red and angry. They wouldn't be compatible either, if anything ever were to happen to Matthew. Why was he even thinking that? He still couldn't deny how wrong about her he'd been; she was a decent person. "But then I got to know you. You're not really like them."
"No."
"I don't believe in love. The only thing I believe in are my cars, at least they can't hurt you. All I've seen love do is destroy lives, good people. It's just a chemical reaction that fades."
"Not with me and Matthew, it hasn't."
"No. Nor do I think it will. You're the exception. Maybe because you're dependent on each other."
"Maybe. I can't explain why, I just do."
"It's that often the explanation? I'm sorry. There I go again. I'm just angry right right now. Not at you or him. I'm just angry at myself. I'm angry at everything quite really."
She nodded as he closed the bonnet, wiping his hands. "You and me both."
"I would like to make it up to you. That surprise Tom and I've been talking about. We're going down to Ripon the day before Christmas, we'd like you to come with us."
"On Christmas Eve?"
"Your step-mother has a meeting at the hospital. We'll go when she leaves so we can be back around the same time. We might need your expertise."
"Alright but I'm telling you now that I hate surprises. You're not going to tell me what it is?"
"Not a chance." They walked back into the house.
After dinner Robert asked Mary if Carson was alright. Carson had Daniel pour and refill the drinks instead.
"We can go down now and see what it's all about." Mary told her father discreetly. She wouldn't have to think about what had just happened with Henry or how she would tell Matthew about it. For now this was a more pressing matter.
"There is no treatment. There is no cure." Carson was telling them. Both Robert and Mary were seated in his office, except Mrs. Hughes who had a hand on her husband's shoulder for support. " They have no name for it. My father had it and his father's father had it. He called it the palsy, the shakes. You must think me a drunk."
"We certainly don't think that." Robert said, appalled.
"I'm sorry if Lady Mary saw fit to trouble you with it my lord."
"She didn't. I was puzzled by that business at dinner."
"I see. Well, perhaps it's for the best because clearly I have no opinion but to offer my resignation."
"What? You don't mean that." Mary exclaimed. "We can still find you something to do."
"You'll still be in charge." Robert tried to assure him but Mary could tell there was not much of it behind his voice, dreading that he would have to let Carson go. But who would replace him? There was Molesley or Daniel. Daniel would have to replace Molesley as Matthew's valet. But then he'd have to find a replacement for Daniel. He certainly couldn't take on a new footman. He quickly banished the idea. Carson had been with them for so long, he wasn't going to give up on him now. "Do the things you still can do like Mr. Matthew. If he can do it, you can still rule down here with that iron fist of yours."
"That's both kind of you but...after the holidays I will put in an advertisement in the paper and do the interviews myself. I could not give this house or this family into the hands of someone I do not trust."
"This is all very drastic."
"But you can stay in our lives Carson." Mary said, hoping for him to see that she wanted him to stay and that they could make it work. He had been like a second father to her, and to him she was like a daughter. She could try to convince him. She was the only other person that he would listen to. But nothing seemed to get through to him.
Robert suddenly got an idea. "You'll stay on the estate, keep an eye out on things, help manage things down here, help manage events and so on."
"I would like to say yes to that my lord but I doubt that the new butler would accept the job under such terms. I know that I wouldn't."
That evening when she laid in her husbands arms, she looked up at him, his eyes closed peacefully. She could tell by his breathing that he wasn't asleep. The smile that gave it away. It vanished when he saw the worry on hers.
"What is it?" He grabbed her hand blindly and placed it on his chest.
"Do you think our love is fading?"
His eyes suddenly opened. "No!" What brought this on? Why would she think that? "But I think it's changed. It's not the fairytale love we had when we were young."
"That's just my point. We were young and free."
"It's much stronger than that." His thumb traced her shoulder. "We were both like emotionally stunted children." It made them both burst into laughter, well Mary's laugh had gotten him to laugh.
Once they stopped and were able to breath, Mary pondered,
"I never thought of it like that before. Henry thinks it's just a chemical reaction that fades over time."
"Sometimes people stay longer in that faze. They later find love or never find it."
"I guess that means we're the lucky ones."
"Yes. But do you know how lucky we are?" He put a hand to her head, ran his fingers through her hair, and then pulled her back down.
"How so?"
"You've pulled me out of the dark. The darkest days that I hope you never have to experience or go through again with me...and this." He put his hand on her stomach. She stared into this eyes; she had never seen so bright a shade in anyone else, not quite exactly captured in their own children. They were Matthew's eyes alone. One of the many things that attracted her to him. They both started kissing each other, his lips pressed against the skin of her shoulder.
24 December 1927
"Where's Rachel? Gone to the wretched hospital?" Robert looked up from his reading. He was in the library with Rose and Atticus.
"Why don't you like her going?" Rose asked.
"Because they take advantage of her good nature."
"But she enjoys it."
"That's why they're able to take advantage. What were Tom and Henry talking about at dinner the other night? It all seemed very hush, hush."
"Cousin Robert, could you bear it if I asked you to drive me into the village."
"Why couldn't you have Atticus do it?"
"I could but he's so very busy with the bank."
"Not having any problems with it, not anything legal I hope. Anyway, if it is, maybe Matthew will be able to help you so that you could finish early. Then Atticus will be able to take you."
"I was really hoping that you would cousin Robert. I hadn't seen you in a very long time. All is well with the others but I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you."
"Alright then, twist my arm." They linked arms and left the library, Rose looked back, giving her husband an anxious but 'thanks for nothing' glance.
"I wish that you could just tell me. I told you that I hated surprises." Mary walked ahead of Henry and Tom through a narrow passage way between two buildings. Why couldn't they have just taken the main street?
"We're there now, anyways."
"What am I looking at?" She pulled at her gloves, giving a exasperated sigh. Two busses were blocking the buildings across the street. When the buses moved all she saw was an abandoned building that looked like it needed a little TLC.
"Isn't it obvious?" Tom then drew her attention to the Marque.
"Matthew helped get the building for us." Henry stated. "We would have had come with instead but..."
"The weather would be bad for him. That's why we haven't been able to have any plans with Charlie and Chuck. It's much more harder to get him out of the house." Any time of the year. She turns her nose back up at the building. "But it looks like a going concern. Not that I question my husband's ability."
"Because it it. A real live business." This would be his livelihood, his second child next to Sybie of course. It would be everything he had tried but failed to find in Boston. Maybe if they played their cards right they could one day open up a chain, one in Boston, maybe one in New York. "Even if the cars on show are the only stock, but we'll get more in!"
They entered the store front. On display was a moron roadster with a tan cover that could be detached to reveal an open top.
"So how will it work?"
"For the time being I'll go between the estate and here. Henry will be here full time."
She thought about their pact, not exactly a promise, that they had made. He had agreed to help her manage the estate if Papa and Matthew were ever sick at the same time. It felt like Boston all over again.
"I'll still have cars in my life just not racing them and eventually we'll build the business between us."
"All of which means you're secondhand car salesmen."
"Well, we will be. Once we've sold this one." Tom patted the door of the car, where the window was rolled down.
"Won't people want to buy new?"
"Only the rich." Tom chuckled. "You'll be surprised how fast second hand cars sell. We'll make more profit then just trying to sell new ones. They'll just sit there. When we have enough revenue we'll set up a dealership for new cars. And in time we'll go into production."
Rose took Robert to the hospital to see Rachel at work, how she was handling the concerns of the patrons and how accepting on her they were.
"Do you still think they're taking advantage of her? If you want to keep her cousin Robert, you must let her go, do her own thing."
"I'm not very good with those American slogans." He slightly chuckled, thinking of Cora, only for a moment.
"Me neither. I'm not sure that's exactly how it goes. Oh, just forget the slogan all together. I'll say this instead. You have a wonderful marriage and with my parents, I should know. Don't spoil it now by asking her to choose."
Boxing day
Mary was disappointed that she couldn't join the hunting festivities. Once the sport was over, the men in their red jackets would go up to change for dinner and dancing afterwards in the ballroom. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, the red flashes going by, seeing that Matthew was watching too.
Don't trigger anything. Don't trigger anything. Not here.
Miraculously, blissfully, there was nothing.
Henry was carrying George on his shoulders, they were heading over to the punch bowl. Mary, spotting them, was about to go over there when she felt a tug on her arm. Matthew was at her side, in his chair, which explained why the sensation had felt so low. She had thought it one of the children.
"I told him he could."
"George or Henry?" They both smirked at the good humor.
"I can't pour the bloody stuff!" They head Carson shout from across the great hall. It caused Henry to halt halfway to the table. George started to wiggle and Henry let him slid down. George then ran over to his parents, right to his father.
"Is Carson ok, Papa?" His daddy would know. He was smart. He had never seen Carson be so angry.
Robert made his way over. "Carson, are you alright?"
The punch had spilled all over, nearly saturating the white table cloth. "I'm sorry my lord." The table cloth they had used for his and Lady Cora's wedding. Soiled. He tried blaming Daniel to hide his frustration and humiliation. "I know how much this meant to you." Carson looked at the table.
"Don't be silly. It is only a table cloth." It was secretly a stab to the heart, reopening the wound. No matter how much time passed, it never really goes away, you just learned to live with it.
"I think I do know the answer. I'll start looking for a new butler but..."
"But you and Mrs. Hughes can stay in a cottage in the village and you'll receive a pension from the estate. Carson will be under statesmen and would still steer things as he's always done. What do you say Carson?"
"I think..."
His lordship has found a solution." Mrs. Hughes finished for him, tugging on her husbands arm to quiet him. "So we should be glad of that."
"Though I have to say Downton will be a very different place without you at the helm."
"As you're always saying my lord, the world is a very different place from what it was and Downton must change with it."
Mary smiled, thankful for her father's out of the way gesture to keep Carson. And also towards his wife, stirring the stubborn old goat in the right direction. Then she turned back to her own husband.
Matthew was sitting silently, the palm of his hand against his mouth, his eyes closed. She could not imagine the rivers of blood flowing down a muddy hill but could imagine it's what he's seeing.
"Are you alright, darling." She asked him.
He nodded in response. A muffled. "Mmm hmm." He was still holding onto his son, what had grounded him to reality. George sat down on his knee.
"Daddy, what's wrong with Carson? Why was he so mad?"
The other children hadn't noticed, the music starting back up, they were focused on dancing. Katie and Jo twirling the streamers round. Katie put it on the floor and Andy hopped across it.
"Carson's not really angry, darling. He's just frustrated because he's getting older which means he can't do the things quite like he used to anymore."
"Like you do sometimes?"
"Are you calling me old?"
"No. Because you got hurt in the war. Did you see blood?"
"What?" His head snapped back towards his son so fast.
"When I had a bloody nose I saw it for weeks." George shivered.
"Sort of like that. Why don't you go on and dance, Georgie. I'm sure your mother won't mind a few more songs past your bedtime."
"Oh, really." Mary had her hands on her hips. "In that case I get to join in on the fun too. A few dances shouldn't hurt.
Later in the night she went into labor. Anna had washed her hair the old fashioned way, no bath for her. One of the luxuries she was looking forward to do again.
Anna went to go get the hair dryer. When she came with it, about to hand the dryer to Mary, her waters broke.
"We have got to stop doing it like this."
"It was all that jostling round. Let's get you changed and into bed. I'll call for Doctor Clarkson."
"Oh no."
"This baby is coming if you like it or not my lady. No time to wait." Anna put her arm around Mary and started to help ease her up from the vanity chair. She sucked in a breath, against the pain.
Mary grabbed the back of the chair, while Anna took off her slippers, her knuckles white, letting out a scream of pain and frustration.
"Breath, lady Mary. Breath."
Henry was on his way to Mary's room. He was going to once and say his goodbye's and he wouldn't be seeing much of him anymore. He heard the maid say, "No time to wait."
"No time to wait for what?"
"There's a baby coming."
"Don't just stand there!" Mary directed at Henry, nearly screaming at him in pain now.
"Mr. Talbot could you go and fetch Mr. Matthew, please?"
"Right." Henry rushed through the halls, looking for Matthew. He was just leaving the ball room. "Matthew, it's Mary."
His eyes went wide, "Is she..."
"She's alright. She's gone into labor. Anna sent me."
Six hours later at 10:30 p.m. she gave birth to their last child. They wouldn't reveal the gender of the child until the family had a chance to see the baby. Both mother and father were in bed next to each other, with seven pounds of healthy baby in their arms. Matthew's face was still wet with tears of joy. He wiped them when there was a knock on the door.
"Have you got a name?" Robert asked upon entering.
"Papa, is that all you have to say?" Her father looked flustered. "Matthew will tell you." Mary replied, nodding to her husband, giving the go ahead, stifling a yawn.
It had been two hours since she had given birth and she had slept those two hours straight, until the baby started to stir in the cot, not having to cry first for Mary to know.
"Robert shouldn't we ask the gender of our grandchild first?" Rachel emphasized the word our, prompting Mary and Matthew to laugh.
"It's a girl." Matthew said. "Caroline Victoria Crawley."
"It has a nice ring to it." Robert couldn't be bothered by it. He brushed the infants warm face with his fingers. Fitting. His father had died the day Queen Victoria had died. He had a healthy grandchild. That was all he cared about.
"That's what you said about all of them." Mary accused him playfully. "Matthew wanted to name her Clementine after that song."
"Had it stuck in my head for months. I thought it good at the time. She seemed to enjoy it when I sang it to her."
"And what would you have called her if she were a boy? Clem? It rhymes with phlegm." Mary bickered.
"We could have called her Clemmie."
"As I've said, Caroline Victoria Crawley has a nice ring to it." Robert quickly added, wanting to see more of his granddaughter but his wife was already trying to get him to come away. All of them laughed this time.
"Come on, Robert. I'm sure they'd want to be alone for a while. Before the children come to see their new sister."
"They'll see her in the morning." Mary called after them. "We should all get some rest."
As they left, Tally came in with one year old Andy. "Someone wanted to see his little brother or sister. Couldn't even talk him into bed with a sweetie." She helped him up onto the bed. "Up you go, Master Andrew."
"But no bouncing. Mama is still sore and you'll wake baby."
"Baby sister." Mary corrected.
"Come and meet your new little sister." Matthew ushered. Andy was hesitant but his father was able to coax him over. He pulled his son slightly onto his lap. Andy touched his sister's pale hair gently, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.
Soon the other children paraded into the room.
"She's so pretty." Katie said as she sat next to her mother, peaking into the swaddled bundle.
"She is." Replied Mary, that same bright smile she had on the day of George's birth, her voice fluttery and smooth, that could send Matthew's heart a flutter. "But don't be fooled. She won't stay like this for long."
"But why does she look all squashed?" George asked, curiously.
"All babies do when they're born." Matthew said. "Even you did."
George looked surprised, then closed his mouth into a thin line. "Did not!"
They were happy and excited and curious about their new sibling. Least of all thrilled was Josephine, arms crossed, standing in the corner near the door. The nurse came in to announce that it was the baby's feeding time, even shooing Matthew out. He was back a half hour later.
"They're still excited about their new sister that they could hardly contain themselves. Tally finally got them to settle down." He got into the bed beside her. "They can't hardly wait to see her again and neither could I."
"How's Josephine?"
"Still pouting."
"Why does it always feel like she's always the one left out?" Mary asked, Caroline between them, resting her head on Mary's chest.
"Give it time. She'll warm up." He gently brushed Caroline's soft skin.
"Hopefully not as long as it took for me and Edith."
"There is one difference. You didn't have parent's like us." He looked back down at the baby they made, safely brought into the world, a healthy six pound baby, with all ten fingers and toes. He wanted to kiss them all.
Mary looked at her husband, his eyes filled with so much love that she had never seen before, for this child. All of the pain for their lost daughter was drained away.
She was their hope, their healing. She would be their saving grace.
Rachel and Robert were walking the long halls to Mary and Matthew's room to see if she wanted to come down to ring in the new year with the rest of them.
"I think I'm going to rest. We'll miss the count down, I'm afraid."
"Don't worry." Rachel said, spend all the time you need with this precious little one." She smoothed the infants soft downy hair.
They walked back out, arm and arm. She was still a little sad that she couldn't give Robert anymore chidden, being past that stage in life. But that hadn't mattered to him.
"I came to the meeting." He said, breaking the silence. "Rose made me take her to see it."
"When? On Christmas Eve?" Not back in August surely. But why wait to tell her? He gave a nod. "Why didn't you say hello?"
"I was too busy watching you. And do you know something? I was very proud of you."
"Don't say it if you don't meant it."
"I do mean it. You're a woman of real substance and I am unfortunate enough to call you my wife."
"So, I don't have to give it up?"
"You wouldn't have anyway."
"Probably not. But it makes it so much sweeter. We did good. With Mary and Matthew moving out. Edith married and her own on the way. That's the last one."
"What more can we ask." Robert threw up a silent thanks to all the powers that be. "A long and happy life, just we two, to watch the grandchildren grow up. That's all I want."
"And why not? We never know what's coming. Of course, who does? But I'd say we have a good chance."
They descended the last steps. Chairs were lined up in front of the Christmas tree that wouldn't be taken down till after new years, the day after tomorrow.
Rachel sat down. She flinched, about to get up when Violet sat down next to her.
"No. Don't get up."
"It's good of you to stay Violet."
"You did ask me to. It is your kingdom now. Your village, your hospital. And I think you'll run it very well."
The clocked chimed midnight, the guests chorused "Happy New Year." as well as downstairs, breaking into song.
Auld Lang Syne
Upstairs Mary and Matthew hummed along to their new born daughter, her tiny fingers curled around both of her parents', looking down at her, with all the hope and dreams for her.
