Dower House, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, March 1914
"The cake is excellent, Cousin Violet," Isobel said with appreciation. She sipped her tea and glanced around the parlour, somewhat cosier than the rooms at Downton Abbey, yet not quite as warm as what she had set up at Crawley House. The paintings on the wall, the furniture, even the rugs seemed to state 'look, don't touch'.
"I'll pass on your compliments to Mrs. Hunt," Violet said matter of factly. "Your son said much the same when he joined me yesterday."
Isobel looked at the Dowager Countess curiously at this new information.
"He came by with Sybil. I understand that he was escorting her into the Village to retrieve a parcel for Cora. He is very good about duty, isn't he? And loyal to his family," Violet continued, taking up her own tea cup. "Such positive attributes in a young man."
"It's hardly fair for me to comment," Isobel said brightly. "My bias is obvious."
"Why? Because he's your son?" Violet chuckled. "I assure you that it does not always follow that a mother thinks highly of her child."
"Matthew has his faults, of course," Isobel offered. "But he makes me very proud, just as I am sure that you are proud of Cousin Robert."
"How lovely," Violet smiled. "Is duty why Matthew never moved out of your home before he was summoned to Downton? I would have expected a man of his age would want his independence. It must have been awkward for you if he chose to entertain at home, or when he came home late."
"His father expected him to move out when he graduated from law school, but he was content to stay home. I can't say that I pushed for him to leave. I liked having him close by. I like to think that staying under our roof was a comfort to him," Isobel nodded.
"Of course, of course," Violet nodded. "It is one of my many regrets that Mary did not enjoy the same hospitality when she was in Manchester. I tried to have her stay with her Godfather, you understand, but apparently he left her with his dreadful sister."
Isobel smiled politely and sipped her tea. She always had a keen sense for a ruse – whether it be a patient swearing he'd taken his medication when the pills were in fact thrown in the bin, or Matthew trying to tell her that he and his father had not eaten all the leftover apple pie when he was a boy – she could tell when she was being played for a fool, or being coerced into revealing too much.
"Well, that's all water under the bridge now that Mary has returned to her family," Isobel said.
Violet hummed and looked away. This woman was experienced, able to maintain conversation while offering no personal insights of her own. She was chatty enough about the local hospital and the patients there, and freely spoke about her experiences at the Manchester Royal Infirmary, but that was her professional opinion. When it came to personal topics, the woman was tighter than a clam.
"I must confess that I was surprised when Robert told me that Matthew was a bachelor," Violet said as she set her teacup back in its saucer.
"How so?" Isobel asked casually.
"He is much older than either Robert or James were when they married. I expected a man of his age to arrive here with a wife and perhaps even a child in tow," Violet explained.
"It seems to me that it doesn't matter the age that one weds, so long as one marries for the right reasons. Matthew is very much like his father, willing to wait until the right woman for him comes along, so I'm not concerned," Isobel replied.
"Hmm," Violet said. "Well, you certainly need not be concerned about whether he will have options available to him. He's clearly sociable and enjoys the company of women. The number who flocked around him in London was impressive. I can see that he is comfortable being the centre of attention, the result of being an only child, I suspect."
"I'm sure he was only acting upon Cousin Robert's instructions to be social with the guests," Isobel nodded. "Matthew knows when to speak and when to listen. He's not against making pleasant conversation with whoever seeks his attention. It is a rather bold leap to go from that to saying he is interested in any of them, however."
"But he must choose a wife eventually," Violet forged ahead. "And now that his prospects give him a much larger field to choose from, so much the better."
"I like to think that Matthew's wife would choose him out of love, and not because of his prospects," Isobel smiled tightly.
"My dear, as lovely as that sounds, one can never truly outrun one's lot in life. You need only look to Mary for proof of that," Violet sighed.
"Well, I don't know Mary very well," Isobel said lightly. "But I would hate to think that her story is already written for someone so young."
"There are many who would disagree with you," Violet said pointedly. "Your view is not a popular one, even within this family."
"I take that as a compliment," Isobel smiled, sipping her tea once more.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, April 1914
Mary entered the library and frowned as she realized she was not alone. The dreary wet day was keeping her inside and away from Diamond, and she decided a book was a perfect tonic. She wasn't the only one seeking the refuge of the library however. Edith sat alone at the large table in the centre of the room, staring at a chess board. She touched the pieces but obviously had no one to play with.
"Too wet to ride?" Edith said with a bored voice, not looking up from the board.
"Edith," Mary replied. "I came looking for a book to escape into. What in Heaven's name are you doing?"
"Thinking," Edith said quietly. "I saw the board set up and became distracted. I think Cousin Matthew and Papa were playing earlier."
"Then perhaps you shouldn't disturb the board," Mary said idly, perusing the bookshelves. "Papa will be cross with you if you've ruined his game."
"What's the bother? I'm already a failure in his eyes, in everyone's eyes," Edith said listlessly.
Mary stopped staring at the bookshelves and turned towards her sister. While Edith had a tendency to be rather pitiful, that comment was unexpected. Mary frowned as she stepped towards her.
"What's brought on this lamenting?" Mary asked suspiciously.
Edith touched the white marble knight on the board. "Do you remember the birthday parties that Cousin James used to organize when we were children?"
Mary nodded slowly. "They had a joint party for you and Patrick, since you were born in the same month."
"Those parties were always so much fun," Edith smiled wanly. "I knew that everyone was focused on Patrick, but they had to wish me well also. It was as though I had a part of the spotlight for once, that one afternoon each year."
Mary rolled her eyes. She didn't have such fond memories of those Patrick's birthday parties. As they grew older and the understanding between them was invented by their fathers, Patrick kept asking her for a kiss on his birthday.
"What's happened to us as a family, Mary?" Edith mused. "We used to talk, really talk, all of us together, and we'd have outings together. The Fair is coming to the Village next month and no one's mentioned it at all except the servants. There just isn't the same joy anymore among us."
"I haven't noticed," Mary said coldly. "Between being scorned, banished and ostracized it's hard to remember the 'joy', as you put it."
"And yet you've still come back," Edith retorted. "I must say that it isn't as though the rest of us were getting along famously before you appeared again. I think that Papa still hasn't recovered from losing Cousin James and Patrick."
"I wouldn't say that. He's taken to Cousin Matthew quite eagerly. They're inseparable," Mary said dismissively.
"Don't you find it curious that Mama hasn't pushed me towards Cousin Matthew yet? She hasn't said one word about it, or encouraged me to take care of him or even arranged for us to sit beside each other at dinner," Edith said.
"Truthfully, yes," Mary nodded. "Though from my limited knowledge of Cousin Matthew, I don't know if the two of you are a good match, I expected Mama to throw you at him, if only to keep him under control."
"The same way that you were thrown at Patrick," Edith said bitterly.
"Not exactly," Mary murmured.
"And yet she hasn't," Edith continued. "It must mean that they think I am neither beautiful enough to entice him, nor smart enough to be Countess one day. I don't think that Cousin Matthew is particularly special, but I expected that plans would be made for us. It makes me wonder if Mama knows what to do with me, now."
"If I were you, I would be thankful," Mary said. "When they plan around you, Edith, it can only end in disappointment. No matter how perfect you are, how faithful you are, how dutiful you are to what they want, it's never enough. It's never enough because they expect you to make up for their own failures, and that's an impossible task."
Edith frowned and looked at her sister curiously.
"What happened, Mary? Truly? That night, that night with the Turk when they said that you…what really happened? Nothing has been the same since then," Edith said quietly.
"It doesn't matter what I say about that night," Mary said bitterly. "So, it's best that I don't say anything at all. You have Papa's version, that's the only one that matters, the one that everyone believes."
Edith sighed and looked away.
"It will be Cousin Matthew's first proper Season in a few months. Everyone knows about him now, and his dance card will be filled. Cousin James and Papa were both younger than him when they were each engaged to their wives. Maybe…maybe once he is settled, things will get better."
"If you're staking your happiness on whether Cousin Matthew finds a wife in a few months time, you're being foolish," Mary said, trying to contain her agitation. "His future isn't tied to ours."
"But if he does find someone, that will be one less thing for Papa to worry about, and one less match for Mama to be concerned with," Edith said with a small hopeful smile. "Then perhaps they'll turn their attention to us again, and we'll be a family."
"Don't be so eager for Mama to take up your cause, Edith," Mary warned, turning back towards the bookshelves. "You may not like the plan she settles on for you."
Edith watched as Mary went back to searching for a book to read. She shook her head, then looked back at the chess board.
Mary glanced from one title to another, not focusing on any of them. Edith's words were still ringing in her ears. Matthew's Season was approaching, and Mary wasn't entirely sure she could handle that.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, April 1914
"Are you sure I can't interest you to join me?" Robert asked, blowing on his cigar. "They're very good, you know."
"No, thank you," Matthew said quickly. He glanced at his empty glass to save him. "I wouldn't mind a refill of the elderberry wine, however."
Robert gestured towards Carson, and Matthew's glass was filled.
"How was your business in London?" Robert asked.
"Fine," Matthew nodded. "I visited with Murray again and met with some of the members of the House. I think I'm beginning to make heads and tails of everything."
"I like such eagerness," Robert said confidently. "Have you found any ideas?"
"I have," Matthew continued. "A lot of the land is sitting unused which nets us no income. Of the land that is occupied, well, the tenants are paying rents well below the market price. Perhaps if we…"
"Hold on," Robert interrupted, raising his hand. "It's an understandable mistake that you are making, Matthew. This isn't a city business. You may see numbers on paper, but Downton is far more than that. A great many people depend upon us."
"But it doesn't help anyone if the Estate isn't doing as well as it can," Matthew replied.
"I know that you mean well," Robert nodded patronisingly. "But we have no reason to worry about money or profits. You saw the books yourself. As long as Downton is financially secure, we can afford to help our people out. I'm not concerned about making more money. We have enough."
"I understand," Matthew said as he finished his wine. "Since we appear solvent there is nothing to discuss."
Robert thought about his heir's comment for several moments, then snuffed out his cigar on the tray in front of him. "I've given my life to this place, so I care what happens more than anyone else. My duty is to work with you so that when all of this is yours one day, you are prepared to carry it on as you should. It's not for me to fill the coffers for you. I won't leave you bankrupt when you inherit, God willing, but I won't drastically change the way things are done either when all seems to be smooth and steady at the moment."
Matthew nodded.
"Now, let's go so they can get in here. You can continue to have your meetings and ask your questions. That's your right. But if you wish to change anything around here, you must run it by me first, and I must say that I am content with the way things are."
Matthew nodded and rose from the dining table. He frowned as he followed Robert through.
Mary walked quickly and quietly down the darkened hall. She did not dare light the candle she was carrying for fear she could be detected. It was easy enough to cross to the Bachelor's Wing. She felt safe here for some reason. Perhaps it was knowing that only Matthew was dwelling in this part of the house, that they were somehow insulated from the rest of her family and the servants. While the thrill of coming to him in his bedroom late at night was ever present, it wasn't just the danger that Mary found strangely exciting. It was the illusion that in this separate wing of Downton Abbey, they were truly alone, husband and wife, together at last.
Tonight she turned away from his bedroom and went down the hall to the stairs. His figure was cloaked in shadows, but she smiled as she neared him.
"Who goes there?" he whispered.
"Just me," Mary smirked as she neared him.
"And who are you?" he asked.
"Your consort, of course," Mary said.
"Crikey, I'll never live that down, will I?" he said. The faint light of the outdoors filtered in through the window at the end of the hall and Matthew took her in his arms gratefully.
"You'll never live down propositioning your wife to be your concubine? Goodness, I can't imagine why that would be considered the subject of ridicule," Mary said lightly.
"Careful, Mary," Matthew growled. "You know what months without you does to me."
She snickered, trying to keep her voice down as he pulled her close to him and kissed her soundly. His tongue caressed hers and his hand moved down her robe to grab her bottom. Mary hummed in delight as she returned his kiss.
"Control yourself!" she scolded him as they separated. "We're supposed to be on a mission!'
"Oh, I have a very clear objective in mind," Matthew snarled.
"Darling, we were just together in London in March," Mary shook her head.
"It's almost May now, Mary!" Matthew whinged.
"I don't understand how you can be so insatiable," Mary laughed. "It's not as though we had free rein in Manchester."
"We still managed to be together more often than this," Matthew huffed, reaching for the doorknob in front of them. "And why are you so accepting of it? I thought you said that it was torture for you as well."
"Now you're being childish," Mary frowned, stepping across the threshold into the darkness beyond. "You know how I feel. You're only bringing this up because you want to hear me admit how frantic I am to make love to you."
"And are you?" Matthew asked pointedly.
"A valiant attempt, but a Lady does not discuss such things," Mary said haughtily.
Matthew shook his head. He took out the matches from his robe and lit Mary's candle. He closed the door behind them and followed her up the stairs.
"You're sure that we don't need keys?" Matthew asked.
"The attics are off limits to servants unless instructed to fetch something," Mary explained. "Papa would never stand by and wait for Carson or Mrs. Hughes to bring a key for him, so the doors are kept unlocked."
"Does your Papa come up here often, then?" Matthew asked.
"Of course not," Mary scoffed as they went up the stairs. "He wants it made clear that he has the right to go up if he chooses, but he never does. It's all about appearances, darling."
Mary reached the top of the stairs and smiled triumphantly at Matthew as she turned the doorknob and opened the door to the attics.
"Wait," Matthew said, stepping beside her. "Let me go first."
He stepped past her, pinching her bottom as he went. Mary rolled her eyes and followed him.
"If this was all a ruse to get me alone, your bedroom would have been a far more preferable venue," Mary said as they crept past furniture covered by large linen sheets.
"Must you always think about having sex with me?" Matthew frowned at her with mock annoyance. "We're here to look for something."
Mary smirked at her husband's cheek and followed him as he wandered from room to room, glancing about before moving on.
"It's remarkably clean up here for an attic," Matthew remarked as he looked through an armoire.
"Even though no one comes up here, it's still dusted every month," Mary said. "It saves us the trouble in the event we ever actually want to retrieve anything to use in one of the rooms."
Matthew kept rummaging. Mary kept holding the candle.
"Perhaps if I knew what we were looking for, I wouldn't feel so bored," Mary said.
Matthew laughed and looked at her with an expression of both annoyance and adoration.
"Fine. We're looking for something that would have been brought up here in the last year or so, which is why we can ignore most of the furniture and focus instead on the boxes," Matthew said, walking briskly over to an old sideboard covered in boxes.
"But how do we know what exactly we're looking for?" Mary asked, standing beside him as he looked methodically through the boxes. "It isn't as though we would have seen any of the servants bring anything up."
"No, but when the household is run pursuant to Carson's strict discipline, it is entirely predictable how certain items will be treated, and therefore it is also a safe bet that those items will end up here," Matthew said, digging through another box. "And these attics are almost as neatly organized as my mother's back in Manchester."
"And what items are you talking about?" Mary asked in exasperation.
Matthew grinned as he held up a stack of envelopes in one hand and three books in the other.
"The remaining personal effects of Louis, former valet to the late Patrick Crawley," Matthew declared.
Matthew frowned as he finished reading the letter and passed it to Mary.
"It mentions how warm it is in Southampton, and not much else," Matthew sighed.
Mary looked it over briefly, then added it to the pile of letters they had already reviewed.
"So, we have Louis sending letters to Thomas whenever he was away from Downton for a fair bit of time, but they don't reveal anything about you," Matthew said.
"I do remember that they worked closely together," Mary said. "But, there's hardly any reason to write down one's feelings when they can be spoken so easily and often. And we don't have any proof of any relationship to begin with. Certainly none of us suspected it. We knew about Thomas' preference and chose to ignore it mainly. No one suspected anything of Louis. I never wondered about it until you came up with the theory."
"I'm convinced of it. You should have seen the way Thomas spoke Louis' name, Mary. It wasn't with mere courtesy. There was pain there, I could see it," Matthew said. "They had to be lovers, Mary. Why else would Thomas speak out against you on something that he never actually witnessed?"
"As intriguing a theory as this is, darling, Thomas won't admit to anything unless you find something to confront him with," Mary said.
"We'll just have to keep looking. I'll bring these back up," Matthew sighed. He took the pile of letters and put them back in the box. He then picked up some of the books and put them away as well.
"What's that?" Mary frowned, glancing at the box. She reached over and pulled out a Bible.
"It was in the box with everything else. I suppose Louis was religious," Matthew shrugged.
"No, it's not just that," Mary said, looking at the cover. "Cousin James insisted that all the servants have one after they'd been with us for several months. He and Papa didn't like the servants to read anything else except letters from home."
"They're easily obtained," Matthew nodded. "No reason for Carson to take it back to give to someone else."
Mary opened the Bible and leafed through it. Her face brightened as she pulled out a small photograph buried partway through it.
"What's that?" Matthew asked.
Mary grinned at her husband as she turned the photograph for him to see. It was a formal photo of the servants standing outside the front doors of Downton Abbey. Louis and Thomas were standing next to each other on the end of the row.
"A strange bookmark," Matthew frowned. "But not helpful for us at all."
"I disagree, darling," Mary smiled, turning the photograph over and handing it to him. Matthew's eyes widened as he read the handwriting on the back.
'Louis, be mindful of Leviticus 20:13 – Patrick.'
"If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them," Matthew recited, turning to the correct page. "How did he know?"
"He must have caught them somehow. Perhaps they exchanged letters that only Thomas kept. However it happened, Patrick knew," Mary said.
"If Patrick found out that Thomas and Louis had a relationship, he could have blackmailed them into corroborating his story and the lies he made up about you to have you banished," Matthew said.
"Or, Louis may have convinced Thomas to go along with the idea out of loyalty to Patrick, promises that they would both be valets when Patrick inherited Downton, and used this photograph and Patrick's knowledge of their relationship as additional leverage. It may not have taken much convincing. Thomas was never fond of me. He followed O'Brien in that regard," Mary rolled her eyes.
"Regardless, we've found what we were searching for," Matthew smiled.
"Did we?" Mary asked lightly. "I seem to recall that I found it. You were ready to send the box back up to the attics without even looking at the Bible."
"We're a team, remember?" Matthew leered, moving towards her. "And we may have just found the evidence to turn the only living witness to your alleged scandal back to the light of truth."
Mary smiled and kissed him, her hands coming up and caressing his face. Her Matthew was so naïve, so full of hope. Even if they could somehow coerce Thomas into changing his testimony, there was no guarantee that her Papa would believe him, nor that all would be forgiven. But as Matthew laughed huskily and pushed her onto her back, she set aside her cynicism for the moment and celebrated their small victory.
Office of the Attorney-General, Palace of Westminster, London, England, May 1914
"Matthew Crawley, as I live and breathe," the man smiled as he came around his desk and shook Matthew's hand.
"Viscount Simon. John," Matthew nodded, taking the offered seat as Viscount Simon sat back down behind his desk. "I'm sorry to bother you. I'm also sorry that it's taken me so long to come and see you."
"Don't be, Matthew," John waved his hand. "I'm truly sorry that I couldn't make it back to Manchester for the funeral. I know that my Papa passed along my regrets, but I feel terribly that I let your family down in such a fashion."
"You did no such thing," Matthew shook his head. "It was kind of your parents to be there. Mother appreciated it very much. And I know how busy you are."
"Well, just the same, I am glad to see you doing so well," John nodded. "I would even welcome coming to Yorkshire for a visit someday, if only to get me away from these damn fools in London. Churchill's naval estimates are astounding. Anyway, you didn't come here to talk about that, and moreover I doubt that Lord Grantham would welcome me into his home."
"You might get through the door," Matthew smiled. "The Prime Minister may need to use the servants' entrance."
John laughed. "Now, what can I do for you, Matthew?"
"Actually, I was hoping that you could once again show me the error of my ways," Matthew said. "I've been researching a particular point of law and I keep coming to the same answer, but it can't be correct."
Matthew passed a thin brief across the desk to John. The Attorney-General leafed through it quickly. He closed it and slid it across his desk back to Matthew. He looked away for several moments, thinking to himself, then finally turned back.
"If you want me to tell you that there's a way to break the entail that does not involve a private bill in Parliament, I can't do that, Matthew," John said.
Matthew's head dropped. He exhaled in frustration.
"Your analysis is sound. Your study of the case law and the statutes are correct," John continued. "Get a bill passed and the entail can be amended or quashed. Other than that, the Courts won't touch it."
"But no private bill has any chance of succeeding unless I can prove that the Estate is in danger," Matthew frowned.
"Even then, you may have some difficulty, particularly if Lord Grantham isn't on your side. I take it he doesn't know about your investigations?" John asked.
"No, he's content to leave things as they are," Matthew said.
"He's not alone there. Their kind of people enjoy maintaining the old ways, Matthew," John said.
"But it's entirely unnecessary," Matthew said. "I'm the sole male heir living. With or without an entail, the title of Earl of Grantham will pass to me. Lord Grantham would never bequeath the land to anyone else either. He's been raised to have both run together. He wouldn't dare change that."
"You don't need to convince me on the archaic nature of entails, Matthew," John smiled. "It's all the toffs sitting in the House who you need to vote in favour of your bill that you need to sway. A far reaching omnibus law that changes property laws as we know them is doomed to fail. A carefully crafted bill dealing only with your family's situation may be insignificant enough to get through, if only because most won't care about it either way."
"But I need someone to get the bill put before Parliament to even have a chance," Matthew sighed.
John smiled. "Don't play with me, Matthew. We've known each other too long and I don't deserve it. Not from you."
Matthew smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry, John. I would never presume or want to impose upon you for…"
"Draft your bill, make a good argument, and I'll get it before Parliament, Matthew," John nodded. "Not only is it the least I can do for everything your father did for my family, but I wouldn't mind seeing those old Tory biddies in the House riled up a little bit."
"Thank you, John. I don't know how good a case I can make, but I appreciate it," Matthew smiled.
"Do your best, Matthew. You'll only get one crack at this, I'm afraid. If you lose, Lord Grantham will turn the House against you for years to come. I can get it to a vote, but after that, it's out of my hands," John said firmly.
Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, May 1914
Matthew walked through the Village feeling rather desperate. He'd left Downton Abbey earlier that afternoon and just walked, stopping in briefly at Crawley House to visit his mother, then kept walking. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions pulling him in several directions at once, and he needed to get away from the big house, away from Robert, away from the nagging feelings that were plaguing him.
Mathew's mood was very obviously out of place as he saw the Village in a frenzy of enjoyment. Everywhere he looked he saw children laughing and a general atmosphere of merriment. He saw some of the servants and nodded to them politely, touching the brim of his bowler hat as he continued on aimlessly.
Eight months ago he'd arrived at Downton Abbey armed with his wits and a plan to restore Mary. All he needed to do was review the entail and find a hole, any gap, any weakness that he could pick at long enough to destroy it from within. The document had been drafted generations ago, and countless laws had been rendered obsolete in that same time. The system of aristocratic titles passing from one male to another went back to the Middle Ages and Mathew could do nothing about that. He would be the Earl of Grantham and no one could stop it. But he could change the rest of it; fix it so that Robert could not object to Mary being his wife and taking her rightful place. All he needed to do was get rid of the entail. His first idea was to bring a proceeding to the Estates Court and have the entail declared invalid based on a failure to comply with applicable laws for such instruments. The morality clause, the requirement that the Earl work with his heir, the merging of the Levinson money with the Estate, there had to be something about any of that which was improper. If that didn't work, he would seek his own amendment, asking a judge to remove the morality clause entirely, arguing that it had nothing to do with the main purpose of the entail, which was to deal with land.
But the entail had proven far more sound than he'd thought or hoped. There was nothing glaringly wrong with it. At its heart it was a list of conditions required for the Estate to be passed from one individual to another, and that individual was the Earl of Grantham. If there was no male heir, or no man suitable to fulfil all the terms of the entail, then the title would fall and the government would decide what became of the land. Matthew's meeting with the Attorney-General only confirmed his fears. He was beyond the help of the Courts now. He was out of his element.
He tried. He really did. Even Mary did not blame him when he broke the news to her upon his return from London last week. His mother said cheerfully that his father would have been proud of his effort, and that it was not Matthew's fault that the ancient document was legally sound. Neither of them understood fully how daunting a task it was to bring a private bill in Parliament, particularly without Robert's support. Despite there being a clear path now on what he had to do, Matthew felt that he already failed. He failed his father's last wishes. He failed his wife. He dragged her and his mother to Yorkshire on a wild adventure that was now doomed.
"Cousin Matthew," a voice called and he turned to see Sybil's smiling face approaching.
"Sybil," Matthew nodded, touching his hat. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Sybil always enjoys the Fair," Mary said as she came up beside them. "I think it has something to do with the candy floss."
Sybil grinned and offered some of the pink confection to Matthew.
"That's very kind of you," Matthew said briskly. He pulled apart a small clump and popped it in his mouth, letting it dissolve slowly.
"What are you doing here, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil asked.
Matthew glanced around searching for some excuse beyond wanting to see the Fair or getting some fresh air.
"Thought I'd have a go before I head home," he said, his eyes falling on one of the gaming stalls. "What about you?" he asked, nodding towards the stall.
"No, thank you," Sybil laughed. "That's not for me. I was going to meet Edith for some lemonade actually."
"Go on, darling," Mary smiled at her youngest sister. "I'll show Cousin Matthew around and meet you later near the ring toss."
Sybil smiled at Matthew and left.
"Shall we?" Mary smiled, heading towards the Coconut Saloon.
Matthew paid the attendant and they each took the offered balls and threw them at the arranged bottles. Mary was quite adept, her light underhand toss surprisingly effective compared to Matthew's wayward overhand pitches.
"Did they not have fairs back in Manchester, Cousin Matthew? Your aim seems to be off," Mary said with the formal air of superiority that she used when addressing him in front of her family and in public.
"I seem to be distracted," Matthew managed. "But I have no qualms about being vanquished by such a worthy adversary, Cousin Mary."
Mary looked at him curiously, a slight smirk crossing her lips before turning back to her side of the game.
"Why don't we go again?" she said. "I'll give you a chance to earn your dignity back."
Matthew pulled more coins from his pocket and passed them to the attendant.
"Do you find me so shallow that I would take losing to you at a game of pitch and toss as an insult, Cousin Mary?" Matthew asked, his mood lightening.
"I don't know, Cousin Matthew," Mary replied. "But I would find it quite disappointing if you were to capitulate so easily. It's no concern of mine at all, but a lady does find a man who is willing to put up a fight far more attractive."
"Well then," Matthew smiled, looking at Mary directly. "Let battle commence?"
Mary glanced over at him and smiled quickly, her eyes briefly taking on the seductive and playful look that he loved so much.
"Let battle commence," Mary nodded, turning back to her targets.
Matthew barely won the next game, which led to another to break the tie, and another after that for him to try and even the score. He kept smiling as they went along, realizing that they could easily be doing the same thing as husband and wife, attending the Village Fair together and playing a simple game, throwing bets and barbs back and forth. The weight of all that was swirling around them was still lingering beyond the stall somewhere, but as Matthew cheered his victory and at a nod from Mary, paid for another round, he found he could forget all of that, and enjoy himself with Mary as the sounds of joy were all around them.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, May 1914
Matthew opened his eyes as he heard the door open. He turned in time to see Mary slide under the covers next to him. She kissed him firmly and he wrapped his arms around her, the feel of her body against his making him sigh in pleasure.
"Mary," he breathed, kissing her again. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."
"I'm collecting my prize," Mary chuckled. "You didn't think that you would be spared after your defeat at the Fair did you?"
"I am at your service, my Lady," Matthew smiled, kissing her once more. "Though I wouldn't call myself a prize, to be certain."
"Matthew," Mary shook her head. "You mustn't be so unkind to yourself. We all knew what we were facing and we decided to come here just the same."
"I feel as though I've let you down," Matthew whispered. "I made all these promises, acted as though it would be…easy…and now…"
"Now, we are no worse off than we were when we arrived," Mary interjected. "In fact, we know far more than I ever did about the Estate finances and you've gained Papa's trust. I knew this would not be resolved in mere months, Matthew. But you have made progress. Surely you must see that."
"I don't know, darling," Matthew sighed. "If I could get the entail before the Estates Court, then I thought we had a chance, a good one even. But to have to go to Parliament…"
"Are you afraid because you are not familiar with the arena of Parliament?" Mary asked.
"Yes," Matthew nodded. "How will I convince anyone to side with me? I don't know how to talk to these Lords and politicians. It just seems so hopeless."
"Well, crawl before you can walk, darling. Write the bill first, then campaign for the votes you need," Mary said, brushing his hair away from his forehead.
"That's another thing. Drafting the bill is hardly straightforward. Even for a lawyer, the amount of precision and detail is intimidating," Matthew groaned. "And who knows how long campaigning will take, or whether I even know how to do that. Can you just show up at Westminster and start preaching? I just feel so lost."
"Buck up, Matthew," Mary kissed his cheek. "You can do this."
"I'm not so sure," Matthew rolled his eyes. "This may not end well, Mary."
Mary regarded him for several moments. She then pulled back and sat up in bed. She moved away from him and stood up, throwing the bedcovers away behind her.
"Mary?" Matthew frowned. "Where are you going?"
"Back to my room," Mary said crisply. "There's nothing for me here."
Matthew sprang out of bed in alarm. "What? What are you saying?"
He froze as she turned to face him, the bed between them. The moonlight through his window cast a glow across the room, and Mary's hard stare appeared all the more frightening.
"The man that I married," Mary said coldly. "Would never admit defeat. The man that I married, my husband, laughs at the obstacles that life throws at him. I gave him every reason to refuse me, to leave me, to have nothing to do with me. He shrugged all of them off and proposed to me instead. I made him live apart from me and he never wavered, never complained, never sulked even when he was within his rights to do so. He made every moment we spent together memorable, and so precious that it kept me going until the next time I could see him. The man that I married, Matthew, does not know the meaning of the word hopeless. He is the embodiment of hope itself, because I've placed all of mine in him."
Matthew stood speechless as Mary turned for the door.
"You don't need to win, Matthew," Mary called out over her shoulder. "You don't need to be perfect. Your plan doesn't even need to work. But if you don't even fight, if you don't even try, for both of us, then you aren't the man I married, and you aren't the man I thought you were."
Mary's lip quivered as she reached a shaky hand towards the doorknob.
Matthew's palm slammed forcefully against the door before she could open it, causing her to gasp. She spun around, her hands against his chest, his warm breath on her cheek.
"You're not going anywhere, Mary," Matthew said with a choked voice.
"Are you still afraid of some foolish Lords and politicians?" Mary demanded, her pulse quickening.
"It will be a battle, and Robert will be furious," Matthew whispered, kissing her cheek softly.
"Angering Papa? Now you're just teasing me," Mary smiled, pressing herself against him.
"I love you, Mary," Matthew pleaded. "You mean a great deal, a very great deal. I can't bear to see you wronged again."
"You can't protect me from everything, Matthew," Mary said kindly, caressing his cheek. "Remember what we said? If it all goes wrong, if we don't succeed, we'll go continue our life together somewhere else. But we'll be together, Matthew. Nothing will change that."
"I guess that I just need to have more faith, Mary," Matthew smiled. "I'll fight for you, I swear it."
"You're not alone, Matthew," Mary smiled, kissing him. "We can do this together. Who do you think the Lords are that you need to convince? Many of the same people that you met in December and that you'll meet next month. I know them, Matthew. I know their daughters and their wives, and in some cases, their secrets. That is your advantage. I won't let you face them alone and unarmed, darling. We'll fight together."
Matthew grinned, then swept her up in his arms. Mary laughed as she kissed his face, her arms wrapping around his neck as he carried her to bed and lay down beside her.
They kissed again as their hands worked quickly and easily, the experienced knowledge of lovers allowing them to remove each other's clothes with practised confidence. Matthew kissed her shoulder, then moved down to capture her breast, his fingers rubbing gentle circles across her hips.
"Mary," he whispered reverently, kissing his way to her waist.
"I believe that you said something about being at my service?" Mary said, raising her eyebrow at him.
Matthew smirked. Mary raised her hips as he removed her knickers, then cried out softly as he kissed her thigh.
"As you wish, my Lady," Matthew whispered, before ensuring that Mary was in no condition to reply with words.