"No?" Tom repeated the word, not sure he'd heard correctly.
"No," Mary confirmed. Tom was still on one knee. "Please get up," she said.
Tom obliged, but still stared at her in amazement. "You won't marry me?" he said – trying to convince himself that he'd heard correctly.
"No, I won't marry you," Mary answered. She turned away.
Tom stared after her in complete amazement. "I don't understand," he said, still dumbstruck.
She spun around. "Tom, I asked you not to do this. I begged you not to do this. And now that you've done it I - I have to say no," she rubbed her arms up and down trying to comfort herself.
"I know what the situation is," he began, guessing what her objection was. "We're in-laws. The appearance may be awkward, but – "
"It's not that!" she said a little too quickly. Tom looked at her. "It's so many things! Our children, our families, our temperaments, not to mention our religions…"
Tom was almost beyond words. "You're really turning me down?" he asked – not quite able to comprehend it.
"I have to," she answered. "I'm sorry, truly I am. But, I think I must."
Tom shuddered. She really was refusing him. He tried to make sense of it in his mind. He was so madly in love with Mary it seemed impossible for her not to feel the same. Was this really happening?
He took a moment to consider. Was he totally mistaken in everything that had happened? He had come back from Boston just for her. He had kissed her without any invitation on her part. If he was completely honest, he had pretty shamelessly pursued her. Had he just been fooling himself?
There stood Mary, tall and elegant as ever. He knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he loved her – but perhaps she was right. Had he just been seeing what he wanted to see? Had he been deluding himself this entire time?
No, he thought to himself. That seemed very unlikely.
"I don't accept that," he said aloud, without meaning to.
Mary fixed him with an ice-cold stare. "Well, don't you have a high opinion of yourself?" she responded. "You can't accept rejection."
"I can accept rejection well enough, when it's honestly made," he mustered his last bit of courage to finish his thought. "But you, Lady Mary Crawley, are just afraid of accepting me."
"Don't be absurd," she shook her head.
"It's true," he met her eyes. "You're scared to death of what you feel for me. You're scared of falling in love with me. You're scared of marrying me." He hadn't planned the words, but as soon as he said them he knew he was right.
"And why would that be, prey?"
"I think it's because you're afraid of being hurt again," he answered, reading her like a book.
Mary blinked, but refused to let him see how accurately he'd hit her. "Well that's clearly not true," she responded evenly. "I've cared for many of my suitors. I even went to bed with one of them," she said with a malicious tone.
"Oh please, Mary, your sketching trip with Lord Gillingham is very old water under the bridge. You are not about to dissuade me by that story. I know you – I think I know you better than anyone else in this house," he glanced upstairs.
Despite herself, Mary nodded in agreement. "That's probably true," she conceded.
"I know you better than any of your suitors," he pressed.
"That's probably also true," she admitted.
"Then WHY won't you marry me?" he implored, coming close enough to kiss her.
Mary leaned towards him. Their lips inched towards each other.
"I can't!" she declared, pulling away at the last second. "I'm sorry, Tom. Truly, I am, but I just can't."
Tom thought for a moment and then just sighed. "But you love me," he finally said.
"Oh Tom, of course I love you. But - but I just can't. Not in that way."
"I don't believe you," he said, his confidence returning.
"Tom," she wiped tears away from her eyes that she wished Tom wouldn't notice, "what do you want me to say?"
"Nothing," he said quietly and decidedly. "You don't need to say anything. I'll wait."
"You'll what?"
"I'll wait. If there's one thing I know it's how to be patient when it comes to the Crawley girls," he said with half a smile.
Mary's face tinged red. "Don't you DARE compare me with Sybil. Don't you dare!"
"Mary, that's not what I meant – "
"I will never marry you, Thomas Allen Branson, so you may as well go back to Boston and stay there!" she turned back around and left.
Tom stared after her for a moment, completely dumbfounded, then finally decided to run after her.
"No!" he declared, following her halfway up the staircase.
"No?" she turned around and met his eyes.
"I won't let it end like this. If you need more time to think of it, then that's fine. But I refuse to believe that it's all over tonight."
Mary looked like she wanted to yell at him, and yet couldn't decide quite how to start.
Tom half-smiled in that way that Mary found infuriating. "I'll accept that as an I-need-to-think-about-it." He kissed her hand. "Good night, Mary." With that he bowed and went up the rest of the stairs to his own room. Mary stared after him, wondering at his positive demeanor.