An Economic Proposition
AN: By 1920 when Mary and Matthew marry and this conversation takes place, things had started to change for women. The war had opened up occupations for them, some gained the vote in 1918 (though not Mary or Edith who don't yet meet the criteria) and Nancy Astor had taken her seat in parliament. However, we must not forget how precarious their lives were, and for women like Mary marriage was a guarantee of security that was hard to pass up.
After her marriage to Matthew, when she's co-owner of the estate in her own right and has produced an heir, Mary is able to take her time in finding the right person to marry. However, that's only due to the position of economic and social security she finds herself in.
I always think that her actions are much more understandable when looked at through that lens, rather than seeing them from a 21st-century perspective.
Mary stares down at the invitation in her hands, feeling both relief and an element of disbelief. The heavy piece of card comes from the Earl and Countess of Carrick, inviting Mr Matthew Crawley and the Lady Mary Crawley to the marriage of Sir Richard Carlisle and the Lady Caroline Butler. Mary has not met Lady Caroline, but thinking back over a decade of seasons, she believes she recalls her being presented along with Sybil before the war. She turns the card over to find an unusual addition to the invitation, a single line is written in Richard's firm hand saying 'I forgive you'.
After preparing so thoroughly to face the publication of her exploits with the late Mr Pamuk, Mary has been surprised and a little puzzled to find that they still have not seen the light of day, even after her wedding to Matthew. This, she guesses, is the reason why. Sir Richard has found a replacement, perhaps even someone who loves him as she could not. Happiness, or at least a wish to maintain a sense of propriety for his new in-laws, has stayed his hand from punishment, preventing the Crawley's from becoming a house of scandal once more.
At this moment, Matthew walks into the sitting room and enquires "What is that you're studying so intently?"
Mary looks up at him, reminded of how fiercely glad she is to be married to him and not Sir Richard "A wedding invitation, from Richard Carlisle."
Matthew looks astonished "Really? That was quick. Which unsuspecting daughter of a peer has he entrapped this time?"
She smiles up at him, "Lady Caroline Butler" and then adds "for all we know this could be the real thing, he did love me in his own way you know."
Matthew nods "so you've said. But you didn't love him."
"No, and by the end I didn't like him much either. But he deserves someone who loves him, and I hope he's found that. I certainly have"
Matthew smiles down at her indulgently "I should hope so too darling." He flops down into the seat next to her, taking her hand "I still find it terribly hard to believe that you would have really married him, even without his threats."
Mary smiles sadly, knowing that this is something he still doesn't fully understand. "I know you do. But I was twenty nine when we got engaged, unmarried, with a certain reputation. I was scared, I would never have admitted that, but I was. It seems mad now, but until Papa intervened, I would have gone through with it."
He sighs, "I know. You're a pragmatist."
"I am, and I'm not ashamed of it. I'd always known I probably would not marry for love, since I was quite a little girl. Sybil was always a romantic, but I never saw it as likely." Here she pauses, "of course I'm terribly glad to be proved wrong."
Matthew looks rather tortured, and she thinks lovingly that his honourable middle-class sensibilities must sometimes make his new world seem very harsh.
Still, she feels this is something he must understand. "He was prepared to give me a position, to give me a life, even knowing about Pamuk. Back then, that seemed worth it."
"Is it really that bleak? Does being unmarried really still matter so terribly much?"
Mary stops for a second, considering how best to explain it. Matthew has adapted well to his position, but he's still comparatively new to this way of life.
"I told you once that women like me don't have lives, not really, that we're in a waiting room until we marry."
She watches him recall this conversation 'So you did, at the fair."
She nods. "Without being married, women like me are destined to spend their lives dependent on their parents, on their male siblings if they have them. Some women might enter a career, but never someone like me. Quite apart from it being seen as unladylike, all a governess ever really taught me was French and how to curtsey."
"But didn't the war change that?"
She considers this, "The war did change things, and they're still changing. But not that fast, and I don't think it would have been fast enough for me. I wasn't willing to take that chance."
Matthew looks slightly more resigned at this, but still doesn't seem convinced so she presses on "Marriage, I was taught to think of it more as an economic proposition, a guarantee of security than some grand love match. Of course, I hoped I'd find love, but it wasn't the thing thought most important"
Matthew takes her hands in his "but don't you see how terribly sad that is? Think of what we have, to never know that… I can't imagine it".
"Of course you can't, and I'm more glad than I can say to have found you, but it so easily might never have happened"
"I know." Then, seemingly forgetting all propriety, he pulls her close to him, which she allows just this once. "I love you so terribly much my darling, pragmatist or not"
She sighs and allows herself to lean into him "I know you do."
They sit there in silence for a few minutes, content just to take comfort in each other. Then, Matthew speaks, his tone playful "So, what do you think she's done, Lady Caroline I mean"
Mary sits up suddenly and pushes him away from her "Matthew, you can't say things like that!"
He smiles. "I know, I know, and I won't. Not to anyone else. But, just between us?"
"I'm quite sure I couldn't possibly say. The family is an old one, and I've not heard any rumours."
Matthew nods, seemingly taking this in. Then he asks, a smirk on his face "does she outrank you, Lady Caroline?"
Mary knows he's trying to provoke her, and while amused, refuses to give in. "No she does not, the Earldom is Irish, and she's a younger daughter."
Matthew smiles slightly at this 'So Carlisle lost out in the end"
"Not if she loves him"
"Do you really think she does?"
Mary pauses. She doesn't know. She didn't love Carlisle; doesn't think she ever could have. But then, that doesn't mean no one can.
"I don't know why she'd marry him otherwise; from what I hear they're practically made of money. But then, as Granny is always saying, no family is ever really what it seems from the outside."
"Including this one," Matthew says, a smile playing on his lips
"Precisely."
She watches Matthew looks over at the card, considering it carefully.
"So, will we go? Meet the new Lady Carlisle?"
Mary smiles to herself at his mistake "What do you think?"
"Oh, I don't know, it could be fun."
"And risk a repeat of New Year's? I don't think so".
He smiles at her indulgently, "Perhaps not".
Then, smiling wickedly, he adds "But we should send a present, how about the twin of that vase we broke? To remind him of his time at Downton."
She smiles broadly, amused as ever when his more unforgiving side comes out, its appearance being few and far between.
"Oh Matthew, sometimes you're not nearly as nice as people think you are."
"Only where your former suitors are concerned."
She leans into him "That, I can allow."
