Downton Abbey:
Guy(s) Night
by Mirwalker
Chapter Thirty-five: Truths Out
As the staff headed back to the house immediately after the service, and despite the still dreary weather, the Earl and family took a little time to speak with the vicar and other congregants, a weekly ritual to see and be seen by those in the realm of Grantham.
As the line thinned and one of the tenant farm families bid their tidings—the Drews, if Lady Grantham remembered which farm correctly, a final well-wisher approached for her turn. "Cousin Isobel," Cora smiled to her, "I do hope you and Matthew will still be joining us for luncheon."
"Good day," she smiled to the couple. "We are very much looking forward to it, of course. In fact, I wondered whether we might ride with you?"
"Well," Robert smiled politely, trying to quickly count people and seats to be sure a single trip would suffice.
"I've just spoken with the Dowager Countess," Isobel added helpfully, "She's asked off until dinner, if that change isn't too much trouble."
"Of course not," Cora smiled with some relief at quieter midday meal, if additional menu and manners pressure for the evening.
"And, Matthew has agreed to ride with the younger Ladies, in the carriage, if that's not too brash."
The parents grimaced quickly, before their polite, noncommittal faces snapped into place. While highly irregular, he was technically relations, and at least one of them was hoping for a connection with the eldest daughter…
Isobel raised her eyebrows expectantly, suggesting that this arrangement –which left her alone with the older adults in the car—was desirable for a larger, important reason.
"Well, we've only just left church; and it's only just to the house after all," Robert conceded. "But would should get along. Wouldn't want to keep Mrs Patmore waiting."
So loaded, and with Taylor instructed not to outpace the horse-drawn cart ferrying the next generation, the Crawley caravan was well behind the ambling servants. As planned, that pace also gave them all time to catch up.
"Thank you for agreeing," Isobel began in almost immediately. "I realize this might be a bit unusual. But I wanted a private moment to discuss Manchester, before we're all gathered at the table."
Cora shot Robert a quick glance, to which he could only shrug slightly. Not his doing, but it suited them both very well.
Seeing the exchange gave Isobel some relief; they were all on the same page at least so far as communicating about her assignment with Edith. She now hoped they would appreciate what she had to share. She cut to it. "You must know by now, that despite our encouragement against it, Lady Edith joined me for the trip yesterday, making it clear that she was going even if I did not." Rather than being angry, she chuckled, "You have quite the strong and smart daughter; you should be proud. But that does mean she's quite dogged; she's been quite persistent about her investigation all month. Not just yesterday."
The less impressed parents did not react to the compliment, so focused on the problematic behavior it painted nicely.
"As you might also have guessed, I involved your footman, Thomas, as a sort of accomplice within the house along the way, and on our expedition yesterday. He's a good man, and did help me shop for my son; so we were honest about that, should it come up. And as importantly, he has helped me keep Lady Edith busy without her being overly or too directly involved, as you wished."
Thomas' involvement was not something they either had suspected, at least before yesterday. His participation was also not entirely reassuring.
Context lain, Isobel provided an update on all the weeks' troubles. "Through various efforts, we three learned that there was a gentleman from Manchester traveling through Downton the night of the storm. As patron of one of the children's home in the city, he'd generously taken one of the older boys with him on a driving trip. But, loosed from the work house, the lad was apparently quite the handful, and slipped away from their dinner at the Grantham Arms. Being a prankster also, he used berry jam to shock several homes along the road, including us at Downton, with concocted wounds and frightening appearances."
Exchanging another look, Robert spoke for the parental pair. "The police were fairly adamant they'd found evidence of actual injuries…"
Gesturing understanding of that 'fact,' Isobel explained, "It would seem the boy managed to catch himself on a tree or gate as he ran about in the dark, and cut himself. They'd been out looking for him, and found him when he gave up the chase, and was returning for help. Ultimately, fearing the scandal of association, our gentleman whisked them back to Manchester, and convinced the police to let the issue drop, as the only known harm done was to the boy."
"How on earth did you discover all this?" Cora gasped, both shocked and impressed.
"Oh, it wasn't only me," Isobel grinned, too proudly at first. "As I said, Lady Edith narrowed down our possibilities without ever leaving Downton; and your Thomas' connections helped us find the specific house. And he actually paid the visit yesterday, in case our mystery Mancunian were someone I'd happened to meet. Not to worry," she assured, "he was careful not to identify any of us; and found the gentleman didn't ask much, as he was still most embarrassed at the boy's antics, and perhaps more so to know we'd tracked the fraud back to him."
"So she did see someone, at least the first time," the father slouched slightly.
"And Edith knows all this?" the mother asked, before summarizing what the cousin's confirmation might mean to Downton. "If she were her sister, we'd never hear the end of it. I honestly don't know how she's going to react."
"She said nothing of it last night," Robert reminded, optimistically.
"She was coming directly from a dressing down by us for traveling against our wishes," Cora grimaced with little consolation. "She knew any victory sharing at dinner would be offset by our swift return to that rebuke, in public." In front of Mary especially, she meant.
Isobel interrupted the longer future projections, with a further note of caution. "I should add that Lady Edith and Mrs O'Brien learned the truth from your Thomas, as they ran into him on the street when he was returning to report to me. Given the hour, they had to return to Downton directly; so unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to speak with her about it."
"So we really don't know how she's taken it, or what she'll do with it…" Cora worried even more.
"Never mind the rumour mongering already rampant downstairs," the master of the house considered the staff sources and impact.
"We have to head this off," Cora turned to him.
"I agree. But I don't see how, not without exposing our agreement with cousin Isobel, despite having forbidden the issue. We couldn't even raise the issue without showing an interest we've prohibited."
"Ahem," Isobel tapped her chest lightly, wearing a pleasant smile as they recalled she was still present and was already involved. "Perhaps if I said something at luncheon today?"
"Well, look who deigns to rub elbows with us common folk…," O'Brien sneered, as Thomas joined her for smoke in the brief, post-luncheon break they shared. "You've gone from too good for us yesterday, to scarce last night, to downright irritable on this, the Lord's Day."
"Don't think either of us has had the best couple of days," he pointed out flatly. "Spent my day on a goose chase for Lady Edith and Mrs Crawley, topped off by an afternoon and evening of clothes shopping for the man I'm not good enough to butler for. And then I just had to watch it all washed away over five courses. Happy early Christmas to me." And that was only his work woes.
"Loose in the city's better than pinned to her Ladyship's side," harrumphed the lady's maid. She was bitter for that price of her day away, trying to figure out what Thomas was up to.
"Well then, I'm glad you managed to get away and tail my 'loose' hours," Thomas chuckled, fully knowing that she had arranged the day to check on him, and that she had not been satisfied with the story she got. But not to that yet. "How'd you fare on returning yesterday?"
"Well enough," O'Brien puffed. "Lady Edith had the decency to claim I knew nothing of her Manchester plans. That I gave up my half-day to chaperone her once I realized where she was off to."
He nodded, wide-eyed, in a show of shared surprise at the magnanimous act.
O'Brien scoffed, "She owed me for giving her a way to justify going, watching after her, and chasing you down." She wanted Thomas to know that Lady Edith was in on surveilling him. "And, she'd best not think we're nearly even. Not close. Not after her Ladyship slapped my wrist for letting the daughter corner me into staying with her. Not the best end to an already less than satisfying day…"
"Come now, Mrs O'Brien," Thomas teased. "You did have a free trip to Manchester no matter the company, gained some credits with a Grantham girl, and finally were admitted to the Guy Fawkes Night Secret Sleuthing Society. Not a bad haul, on the whole."
"What a load of manure! Her maudlin middleship may have believed that snake oil story you told about mischievous runaways; but don't you think for a minute that I did."
With a sad, sly grin, Thomas reached into his jacket pocket and dropped a ten pound note into O'Brien's lap.
"What's this then?" she asked, genuinely taken by surprise.
"That's for not tellin' her Ladyship about my stop at the bank in Manchester, or questioning my story in front of her." He needed her to know that he knew she hadn't been fooled, and that he appreciated her silence.
"Maybe I'll use it to buy the actual truth from you," she sneered, without actually offering it back. She was glad for the money; but it would not be enough to sate her underlying curiosity.
He took a long, final drag on his smoke and lit another, admitting, "Mrs Crawley and I did track down the old man, who did take an orphan on a road trip through Downton. And the boy did get away from them, but… he wasn't out pranking folks. Chasing him in the storm, they hit him with the car by accident." Letting her in on this truth, he let out a long breath of smoky emphasis, growing somber again.
"I can't explain what Lady Edith saw that night, or she or Mrs Patmore later. But it seems the old man and his driver worked hard to cover up ending a young man's life that night, just to save the precious family reputation."
O'Brien was almost staring at him, so not the tale she'd expected to hear. What spirit indeed it implied had been visiting the house, and what crimes it suggested Thomas had uncovered. "Does Mrs Crawley know?"
He shook his head. "Told her what I told Lady Edith."
"And the bank visit was to keep you quiet."
"The old codger was adamant that word not spread," Thomas nodded, adding, "As was the orphanage. So lest you wish to fan a fresh hauntings hysteria here at Downton, upstairs or down, I trust we all can continue to count on your discretion."
"Too right," she cooed as she slipped the note into her pocket, pleased at the reward for her silence, and that the information might still be useful in the future, if needed. Even if she was not incredibly unsettled at the gruesome truth she'd pushed her way into.
They sat for a moment in silence, the tension between them seemingly settled; and a morose tone settled on their early afternoon.
"And you're sure you're alright?" she stood finally and looked at him with a rare, well-intentioned skepticism. She might actually have been worried for him. "Not that I don't appreciate this cash and confidence; but you've been more cross and curt than I'd expect after yesterday's adventures and windfall…"
He laid what he hoped was the final headstone on the weeks' suspicions, tying up the scheming thread he'd implied to her since that stormy night. "It weren't the Downton windfall I was hopin' for. But a few unexpected quid in my pocket for my troubles; and her Ladyship in my debt… not bad for a few weeks' work."
"And I'd guess Mrs Crawley counts you among her camp now, does she?"
"All the better for me if so, in case her uppish son prevails as our heir," he wiggled his eyebrows in self-satisfaction. "Guess I'm still worried about questions on the home front."
She nodding understanding on that point, not realizing his concern over other domestic matters known only to him. "We'll both have to keep our wits about us, now more than ever. Bates and the common Crawleys can't be the only lowly folks who have a Happy Christmas at the Grantham's expense..."
He nodded as she headed back into the house hopefully satisfied, and looked at his pocket watch, hoping that he had time for a quick check on the hideaway, just in case. As that was not the case, he glanced around the courtyard, hoping for an out of place sneeze or some side corner movement to suggest he wasn't alone.
But his collegial honesty and generosity had bought him not even a breeze or bird call.