Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, June 1914
Matthew entered the ballroom and looked around at the austere decorations. There was nothing but the finest gold and silver on display; he could practically see his reflection in the empty shinning glittering punch bowl. Servants were circulating dusting and cleaning, attending to every last detail under Carson's watchful eye. Mrs. Hughes and Cousin Cora were huddled together going over how the guests would enter, how they would be announced and the order of the events of the evening. Matthew smiled at the display. He had been to numerous events in Manchester, but never a debutante ball. He found the effort that the family went to quite impressive, even though the very concept of Sybil's coming out was rather funny to him.
He spied the young lady of the hour standing off to the side and he went over to her, nodding pleasantly. Sybil appeared to be nervous, her eyes looking around the room in wonder. Was this the same firebrand who was adamant about fighting for the rights of women and standing up to her Papa?
"We're going to quite the fuss for this party," Matthew said airily. "Whomever it is all for must be worth it."
Sybil smiled and looked down at the floor.
"I hope that I am not a disappointment to you, Cousin Matthew," she said softly.
"Never, Sybil," Matthew smiled. "I suppose I am just feeling rather put out that we're spending all this money on some ignorant cad who won't know the true prize he may be competing for this evening."
Sybil looked at him with wide eyes.
"Erm…well, you and Papa certainly will have final approval over any invitations that I receive," she struggled. "That is your right, of course. You'll be head of our family one day."
"Don't worry, Sybil, I won't shackle you…too much," Matthew smiled reassuringly. "Whomever you decide to dance with tonight, or walk out with later in the week, I'm sure I'll like him. That is, if he's good to you. If not, he'll have me to answer to. Remember that."
Sybil swallowed.
"Thank you, Cousin Matthew," she said.
Matthew smiled at her, then crossed the large room to join Robert.
"Ah, Matthew, there you are," Robert smiled as he approached. "Might I make a request of you?"
"Of course," Matthew nodded sincerely "I am at your disposal, Cousin."
He was always mindful to stay on Robert's good side, if he could. He still was a bit disturbed that he was plotting against him in private. He had a meeting with John Simon scheduled for later in the week to discuss his private member's bill. He chose not to think about the irony of smiling to Robert's face while he was working to tear apart his world behind his back.
"As the future head of the family, and this being your first proper Season, I think you should have the first dance with Sybil tonight. It's traditionally reserved for the guest of honour, and I can think of no one better to fill that role."
"I certainly can!" Matthew smiled. "Isn't the Prince of Wales or someone far more worthy of Sybil available?"
Robert laughed and patted Matthew on the shoulder. "The Prince is indisposed, sadly. But, you'll do. The first dance will be a French quadrille. Did you know that my great-aunt was the first person to dance with the Duke of Devonshire when the dance became fashionable?"
"Given that history," Matthew said. "I'll do my best to represent the family. I know tonight is about Sybil after all, so I wouldn't want to make her look foolish by being clumsy."
Robert's brow creased slightly as he stared at Matthew.
"Tonight is about showcasing our family to the rest of Society; it's not specifically about my youngest daughter. We are not about putting a young woman on display as though we are a shopkeeper. With Sybil now coming out, I'm grateful I won't have to go through this again. Cora did an exemplary job for both Mary and Edith's Balls, though the results may not show it."
Matthew nodded in understanding. Robert's pique seemed to always linger just below the surface, springing forward when one least expected it. Matthew found the idea of having a party for young gentlemen to come and look over Sybil to be quite ridiculous truly, but that did not change the fact that tonight was in fact about Sybil. Of course Society would talk about the party and either praise or condemn Cora for how it was viewed, but ultimately wasn't it more important that Sybil enjoyed herself?
He looked across the room to see Mary enter and go over to stand with Sybil and Edith. Her dress was sleek and immaculate. Even from across the room he could see she wore the earrings and necklace he had given her early in their marriage. These gestures from her always thrilled him, as though she were wearing the badges of his love for her out in the open for all to see.
As Cora announced that all was ready and the first guests would be arriving imminently, Matthew looked around the room once more. He imagined this same room years ago when Mary announced her arrival in Society. She would have been quite the prize, he was sure of it, ogled and obsessed over by men across London. He remembered her stories about Patrick's horrible behaviour, all the invitations she received and her embarrassed admission that she was rather preoccupied with all the attention paid to her that Summer. Matthew told her that the way she acted was in the past and did not matter to him. Standing now in Grantham House, seeing the opulence on display, he could understand why Mary had perhaps gotten carried away. How could she not? The party was worthy of the Queen herself.
Guests filed in and greeted Robert and Cora at the door. Mary and Edith kept Sybil at the other end of the room and away from guests. She would make her formal entrance later. Matthew mingled and spoke with numerous people, the ones he remembered from meeting them in December, and others that Mary had specifically instructed him to search out.
After a suitable amount of time for everyone to have their first drinks, Carson stepped forward and raised his baritone, drawing everyone's attention.
"Esteemed guests, Lords and Ladies, the Earl and Countess of Grantham present to you, on the occasion of her debut, Lady Sybil Crawley, to be escorted by Mr. Matthew Crawley, Viscount Downton presumptive," Carson announced.
All eyes turned to the door and Sybil entered, her hands clasped in front of her and her back straight. She looked straight ahead, a demure smile across her face. There were numerous smiled and appreciative nods from the guests as she reached the space cleared for a dance floor, and Matthew stepped forward and extended his hand, bowing his head to her respectfully.
They stepped into hold easily, Sybil staring up at him as he moved her through the first steps of the waltz as the small orchestra played in the background. Matthew kept his eyes on his cousin, a polite smile on his face.
"You look lovely, cousin," Matthew whispered, feeling her hand shake on his shoulder. "Don't think about everyone looking at you. Focus on me."
Sybil took a deep breath as they danced, calming herself and nodding to him.
"I don't think anyone in our family has eyes like yours, Cousin Matthew," she said, looking up at him. "They're quite blue, aren't they?"
"They are," Matthew nodded jovially. "When I was a child, people thought that I was adopted, as both of my parents no longer had blond hair by that time and their eyes were hardly blue either. I was repeatedly assured that I looked like my father when he was a boy."
"I feel as though I should do something for Cousin Isobel, to thank her for…well, her assistance last month. Perhaps I should visit her? I feel as though I haven't done my part to get to know her better. My conversations with her are all limited to whenever she comes to Downton Abbey for dinner," Sybil said.
"Careful, Sybil," Matthew laughed. "If you give mother an excuse, she'll set up daily appointments for you. You'll be spending more time with her than you do with Cousin Cora."
Sybil blushed and looked away. "It would be good practice for me," Sybil said lightly. "I must learn to be a part of my husband's household, which would mean getting along with my mother-in-law."
"Then spending time with mother would be advisable," Matthew chuckled. "If you can get keep up with her, then your future mother-in-law will be child's play."
Sybil twirled about and finally looked back up at Matthew. "My thoughts, exactly, Cousin Matthew."
"There, better, Milady?" Anna asked, hanging Sybil's stockings over her arm and picking up her shoes from the floor.
"God, that's heavenly, Anna," Sybil sighed, sitting back on her chair and playing with a long strand of her hair. "By the end of the night, I could barely breathe through my corset."
"Well, Mr. Carson says you were breathtaking," Anna nodded. "So all of it was worth it."
"Carson used the word 'breathtaking'?" Edith asked. "I can't imagine it."
"Not because you weren't breathtaking, darling, because you certainly were," Mary explained, frowning at Edith. "It's just strange thinking of Carson being so effusive."
"At least to anyone besides Mary, anyway," Edith shrugged.
Sybil nodded. She thanked Anna and waited for the maid to leave her bedroom before speaking further.
"I thought it all went quite well," Sybil continued. "I wasn't nearly as bored as I expected I would be."
"Do you have any ideas on who may send you an invitation?" Edith asked. "You were quite popular, obviously."
"Mama's made arrangements with three other families already," Mary said. "I can't recall the names or the faces, but hopefully you can."
"I'm sure it will be fine," Sybil said quietly, rising from her vanity and going over to the full length mirror.
Edith and Mary exchanged confused glances.
"What do you think of Cousin Matthew?" Sybil asked suddenly turning to her sisters.
"What about him?" Mary asked, shaking her head.
"I thought we danced quite well together," Sybil mumbled, looking down at her hands.
"Yes, you did," Edith agreed, still confused. "What does his ability to dance have anything to do with anything?"
"Well, I thought that perhaps it may be a…solution…to the questions about our future," Sybil said quietly.
"A solution?" Edith repeated. "In what way?"
Mary's eyes almost popped out of her head. "Sybil, what are you thinking?" Mary asked carefully.
"Nothing, really," Sybil shook her head. "It's just that Cousin Matthew must marry someone eventually, and I don't dislike him as much as you do."
"Perhaps you don't dislike him at all," Edith laughed.
"Perhaps…" Sybil whispered.
Mary felt like retching.
"You can't be serious," she sputtered. "You and Cousin Matthew? Why, that's impossible!"
"I know, I know," Sybil sighed. "He'll likely want someone far more dazzling, but in the past few weeks I've found conversation with Cousin Matthew to be quite pleasant. And he doesn't have any prejudices or archaic attitudes like Papa does. If I were to marry him, then I would be Countess of Grantham and that would mean all of us would have a place to live, and a future, at Downton, at our home."
"You marrying Cousin Matthew wouldn't stop Mama from trying to ship Mary and I off, you know," Edith said.
"Exactly," Mary agreed rather quickly. "Darling, you're very sweet, but you don't need to waste your life on Cousin Matthew for our sake, truly."
"Well, I wouldn't be wasting my life if I were to marry him," Sybil said innocently. "I would expect that being Cousin Matthew's wife would be rather…fun."
This time Mary did cough, her stomach convulsing.
"You would be the envy of Society, surely," Edith nodded. "Countess of Grantham and with a handsome husband. What more could anyone ask for?"
"Handsome?" Mary exclaimed, glaring at her sister.
"Would you prefer if I said gorgeous?" Edith retorted.
"He is quite…gorgeous," Sybil smiled. "I had no idea that he was so…fit."
"Both of you stop!" Mary snarled. "Neither of you are marrying Cousin Matthew! The very idea is mad!"
"It isn't particularly romantic, no," Edith nodded. "But how can we trust that whoever Cousin Matthew eventually does marry will be fair with all of us, and even with Mama? We can't rely on his charity, can we?"
"No, and we shouldn't count on his kindness, either," Mary said. "Sybil, darling, focus on the other men that you danced with tonight, the truly eligible ones. Cousin Matthew isn't for you. Papa plucked him out of Manchester and foisted wealth and a lavish lifestyle upon him. He's probably not looking for a wife anytime soon, when he can just enjoy the attention he's been getting."
"Mary's right," Edith nodded. "He's probably one of those men who expects his wife to perform for him, and do all manner of scandalous things."
"Edith!" Mary scolded her, then blinked as Edith looked at her strangely. "Well, I don't think we should go so far as to cast aspersions on Cousin Matthew's character based entirely on speculation."
"But he has had many women, surely, hasn't he?" Sybil said. "Just think of all the ladies that have swooned over him since Christmas. Anyway, if I were to marry him, it would be my duty to obey him to a certain point, and he cannot expect that I would be…knowledgeable in that…area. Perhaps he would enjoy…teaching me?"
Sybil blushed profusely.
Mary almost fainted.
"Don't worry about that," Edith sighed wistfully. "If Papa and Mama thought that you were a good match for Cousin Matthew, they'd have flung you at him. Though, to be fair, you just had your debut tonight, so perhaps they were just waiting before putting some serious effort into the match."
"I'm going to bed," Mary announced. "Sybil, you were brilliant tonight, truly," Mary called over her shoulder, willing herself to get out of that room as her hands shook.
"Matthew," she whispered.
Matthew blinked several times and looked over at the other side of his bed.
"Darling," he smiled sleepily. "I didn't think that you would…Argh!"
His eyes bulged and his head and chest shot up as he felt Mary's hand between his legs and beneath his pyjama pants.
"Mary! That hurts!" he cried.
"What did you say to Sybil during your dance?" Mary demanded, squeezing him harder. "Answer me!"
"What?" Matthew choked out, fully awake now. "I can't remember. It was just idle chat."
"Idle chat?" Mary growled. "You seduced her, you vile philanderer!"
"What are you talking about? Aaah!" he groaned, his hands balling into fists. "I would never seduce Sybil! She's your baby sister for God's sake!"
"So you would seduce someone who wasn't related to me then?" Mary retorted.
"No! No, that not what I meant at all!" Matthew moaned.
"You filled Sybil's head with honeyed words and knowing glances! I know how you operate, Matthew! You played on her innocence and reeled her in!"
"Reeled her in to do what? Argh! Mary!" Matthew cringed.
"Why don't you tell me?" Mary hissed. "How idle and innocent was your conversation if my sister is now filled with ideas of marrying you and being your eager student in your marital bed?"
"What? That's nonsense! Aaah!" Matthew grunted. "Mary, I already christened my marital bed with you, if you can so easily forget! I would never even think about Sybil in that fashion!"
"Is that so?" Mary said coldly. "That's exactly what you did to me! Charmed me into your bed, then taught me all manner of…acts…to do to you for your pleasure!"
"You're my wife! We were married before we ever shared a bed together!" Matthew said quickly, glaring at her. "Everything that we've done has been entirely consensual and some of those lessons were meant to help me learn what gives you pleasure as well! What does any of that have to do with Sybil? Argh! Stop! Stop!"
Matthew grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand away from him, groaning out loud from the pain. He sat up in bed and turned towards her, meeting her furious stare with his own.
"You're being ridiculous!" Matthew said, holding up his hands in front of him. "I love you! I'm devoted entirely to you! I would die for you, Mary, you know that! Dancing with your sister at her debut ball is a duty that I must follow! It was only that, nothing more!"
Mary scoffed, then closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
"I know that, Matthew," she shook her head. "It's just that Sybil was bursting tonight after we retired, and it was all about you. None of the other men she met tonight made anywhere near as strong an impression."
"I get along with Sybil. She's a sweet girl," Matthew said in exasperation. "But I only danced with her once. Surely that can't be enough time for her to become entranced with me?"
"Why not? It took me less time," Mary said pointedly, smirking at him.
"And I still cannot fathom any explanation for that, either," Matthew smirked back.
"Darling," Mary sighed, coming into his arms. "I suppose that being back in London for a true Season is proving harder to deal with than I expected."
"It's hardly a bed of roses for me, either, Mary," Matthew said, massaging her back through her thin nightgown. "All I kept thinking about tonight was wishing I'd been here for your Ball, to have had the chance to dance with you on your debut."
Mary pulled back and smiled at him.
"Why, Matthew," she said playfully. "Are you saying you would have dared to steal me out from under Patrick's vile grasp?"
"I would have done anything, Mary," Matthew said firmly, leaning forward and kissing her. "If you would have accepted me, I would have moved the Earth for you."
"Darling, what am I always telling you? I was a spoiled princess back then. One conversation with me and you would have thought I deserved a lifetime of misery with Patrick. You'd have wished me good riddance. You would have been mad to love who I was back then," Mary said, kissing him softly.
"I accept that," Matthew smiled, shaking his head and kissing her again. "For love is a madness most discreet."
Mary laughed, kissing him once more. "Romeo and Juliet. How foolish I was to think that studying Shakespeare would never prove useful, and that his words would never move me."
Matthew smiled and pulled her down, laying back and holding her against his chest.
"Are you still in pain, Matthew?" she asked.
"Not as much, no," Matthew winced. "Though I would appreciate it if in the future you were not so…angry…when you go to touch me."
"Understood," Mary smirked, kissing his neck. She then kissed his bare chest and licked his stomach.
"Mary?" Matthew gasped, staring at her with wide eyes.
"Perhaps I can make you feel better, darling, by putting some of your lessons to use," she said, removing his pyjamas swiftly.
The All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, Wimbledon, London, England, June 1914
"I think it's absolutely splendid you brought these," Sybil said as she looked through the binoculars that Matthew had offered to her.
"Don't stare darling," Cora scolded. "Those are really only for a gentleman to use."
"And I must say they aren't necessary," Robert said. "I know you've never been to Wimbledon, Matthew, and therefore you didn't understand the prominence of our seats. But, its best you put those away immediately before the match starts."
Edith gasped as she looked straight ahead, her words only a whisper.
"I didn't know the Royal Family would be in attendance."
"Oh, really, Edith," Mary said. "It's called the Royal Box for a reason, you know? But don't worry, the Prince of Wales isn't looking towards you, so there's no need to be so concerned."
The blue cloudless sky was brilliant over head, the sun bathing the grass court in light and warmth. Matthew recognized numerous faces in the stands around them. As the last major event of the Season, it seemed that most of Society was determined to see and be seen.
"Sybil," Cora interjected again quietly, chiding her daughter.
Reluctantly Sybil lowered the binoculars and handed them back to Matthew. He held his father's binoculars in hands, his face feeling flush with embarrassment at having brought them; slowly he set them on the floor under his seat.
"I hope the players enter soon," Cora said lightly. "Sitting out here under the sun is a bother with no sport to watch."
"Don't worry, Mama," Mary said with a bored tone. "You won't need to ignore all the people staring at me derisively once the match begins."
Cora frowned at Mary. Robert sighed.
"You're welcome to wait for us in the concourse, away from prying eyes, Mary," Robert said, not even looking in her direction.
Mary's lip curled at the dismissal. She narrowed her eyes, then rose from her seat.
"An excellent idea, Papa," she said with false enthusiasm. "I find the sun rather overbearing, and I'm having difficulty seeing the court with your head in the way."
Robert frowned and turned around, just in time to see Mary walking up the stairs of the aisle towards the exit.
"Perhaps I'll go and wait with her," Sybil said.
"No, you stay here," Matthew said. "Just leave Mary be. To cater to her need for attention will only encourage her to act even more petulantly."
Sybil and Edith looked down at the ground, silenced by Matthew's rebuke. Robert smiled and nodded to his heir, then resumed watching for the players to arrive.
"I actually am going to spend the first set in Lord Eldwidge's box," Matthew said, rising from his seat. "Better for Society to see how our family is thought of so highly by others, and allow all the focus here to be on Sybil and Edith, where it belongs."
Cora smiled at Matthew's foresight.
"Very well. Go on, Matthew," Robert nodded. "You can manage to find your way back later, I assume? We're going straight to the station from here. If you require me for anything, call. Otherwise, we'll see you back at Downton in a week's time."
"Yes," Matthew nodded. "Thank you, Robert.
He said his goodbyes to the rest of the family and left the grandstand.
He found Mary easily. She was standing at the rail looking out over the grounds. The crowds left her alone, their attention towards the court on the opposite side.
"You aren't really bothered by the glances and whispers, are you?" Matthew asked, coming to her side.
"No," Mary shook her head. "Though I could do without them. I rather enjoy watching tennis, actually. But Papa has seen fit to ruin the day for me before it even begins."
"Well, perhaps I can interest you in sharing a Wimbledon delicacy with me?" Matthew said quietly.
Mary grinned, looking away from him. "How did I know that you would suggest that?"
"I'm surprised that you don't have a plate at the ready for me," Matthew teased.
They went over to the nearest food stall and ordered strawberries and cream. Matthew took the dish over to a small table in a secluded corner, the area emptying quickly as polite applause greeted the players as they arrived on court.
"I'll be glad when they leave the city," Mary sighed. "Though Aunt Rosamund is hardly pleasant company, she's preferable to Papa."
"I must admit I thought he'd at least be civil to you by now. It's been months," Matthew said, dipping a strawberry and eating it.
"Don't think that just because he adores you, he'll be as nice to the rest of us, Matthew," Mary frowned. "He has his son now, and he's elated by it. It only shows him what a disappointment the three of us have been."
"I wish there was something I could do," Matthew muttered. "When I talk to him about some Estate matter, or learn about the way things work, he's so bright and happy. It makes me wonder if he wouldn't just be pleased to know that we were married."
Mary frowned at him.
"Matthew," she said slowly. "He's not your father. He never could come close. Never. And if you think that you could ever take him into your confidence, or that he wouldn't be furious if he knew the truth, you're wrong. You may think that logically he would have to accept me as your wife, but you're assuming that you're dealing with a rational man. You aren't. His entire life has been devoted to protecting the entail and the way our family has carried on for generations. He won't step aside for you, Matthew. He'd rather die first."
Matthew stared at her for a moment, then nodded.
Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, England, July 1914
"Thank you for letting me stay on with you," Mary said to her aunt as they shared afternoon tea together. "I was not ready to return to Downton just yet. I'm afraid I've grown quite fond of the sound of my heels on the pavement as I walk the London streets."
"Think nothing of it my dear," Rosmuand said calmly, "It is good to have you all to myself. The Season seems to be growing busier and busier by the year. Of course, you know that. Once you've reached your fourth, you're more of a survivor than a debutante."
Mary nodded as she stirred milk into her tea.
"On the subject of surviving, I'm anxious to hear about your plans for the future. Now that the interloper is firmly ensconced among us, we'll have to get used to him, and know where we stand with him moving forward. I expect he'll want us to fend for ourselves. His sort of people are industrious to a fault."
Mary was placid on the outside, but bristled on the inside. She was used to being ridiculed and scorned since she'd returned from Manchester. But she was not used to hearing criticism of Matthew. Society had adored him since last year. To know the sole reason he was even here was because of her, and have to endure his name being stomped on tried her patience..
"I know that his presence alone must be a great insult and burden to you," Rosamund continued. "Cousin Matthew is certainly nothing like Patrick. Despite Patrick's long list of faults, he was at least raised as one of us. The warts of his youth would have disappeared, especially with you at his side, my dear."
Mary stared into her tea, thankful that she could be excused for her silence at the mention of Patrick's name. She did not care for the direction of this conversation already.
"Any hint on what Cousin Matthew will decide for you once he inherits?" Rosamund asked with curiosity.
"That's many years away, yet, surely," Mary said, sipping her tea. "Who knows, I may grow bored of Downton long before then and leave of my own choice."
"Oh, I doubt that very much," Rosamund said crisply. "You've returned from the wilderness. You won't be so quick to leave the civilized world so soon. So long as you can keep your Papa at bay, it will give you time to understand Cousin Matthew and what direction he is leading us in."
"Well, Papa is teaching him about the Estate and the people who rely upon us," Mary said. "I doubt he's put much mind to the future. I agree with Granny that it is rather maddening how Cousin Matthew does not seem preoccupied with finding a wife or going in a different direction from Papa."
"This is one point where Mama and I agree about Cousin Matthew. He is not being entirely forthright with us. No man when given keys to an entire kingdom and the women of society clamour for his regard would be so stoic and unmoved. He surely has his eye on someone as his future Countess, and his refusal to disclose this to us is a sign that he has no thought to how his marriage will affect all of us," Rosamund sighed.
"Perhaps," Mary said carefully. "Though I may argue with Cousin Matthew, he does not anger me the way that Papa does. I still have some hope that Cousin Matthew will be fair to all of us when the time comes. I can't say the same for Papa."
"Robert tries too much to be like Papa. He never will be," Rosamund nodded thoughtfully. "I prefer him to Cousin Matthew. Robert is predictable. I know precisely how he will react to a given situation. Cousin Matthew is unknown to us, for now."
"But Cousin Matthew at least has feelings. Papa does not," Mary grumbled.
Rosamund sighed. "Mary, I know that things are broken between you and Robert, perhaps irrevocably. But you should know, when you left, the following Season your parents had to endure all manner of gossip and snickering about you. It was quite dreadful, really. Everywhere they went, it was Mary did this, Mary did that, it was horrible for them."
Mary frowned. "I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience that was caused to them after they banished me from Downton," she said icily.
Rosamund nodded. "That's how I would feel as well. But there's no use in dwelling on the past. You need to determine what your prospects are and moved forward."
"I'm damaged goods, Aunt Rosamund," Mary sighed. "My prospects are the furthest thing from my mind."
"Well they shouldn't be," Rosamund said. "It's all the more important that you are settled as soon as possible now. London may be closed to you, but it isn't the only place where eligible men reside."
Mary sipped her tea. This conversation officially confirmed that this had been the worst Season she'd ever endured.
Berkeley Hotel, Knightsbridge, London, England, July 1914
Mary glanced about the suite, checking to make sure each detail was perfect. The presents she bought for Matthew were nestled one on top of the other on the coffee table. The first present was a poetry anthology and on top of that was a silk tie with a new tie pin and a matching set of cliff links. He enjoyed dressing her up, so she decided it was her turn to take secret pleasure in seeing him wear something she bought for him.
A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice, next to several covered serving trays that she'd ordered from room service. She went around smelling the flowers placed on the dresser and mantle and next to the chairs. Finally reaching the front door, she looked back at the sitting room and smiled. It looked exactly as she wanted.
She looked in the mirror and confirmed that the tulip booms that she'd placed in her hair were still holding firm. She'd managed to add the extra touch without disturbing her coiffure, which was no small task without Anna to assist her. It was a necessary challenge for her to conquer given that Mary most certainly did not want her lady's maid to see what ensemble she'd picked out for this afternoon.
A light knock drew her attention, and she went over to the door, swallowing nervously.
"Who is it?" she asked quietly.
"Your husband," came the reply.
"Husband?" Mary smirked. "I don't have a husband. What's your name?"
"Matthew Crawley," he said in frustration. "Mary, please open the door."
She smiled and untied the sash of her robe. She opened the door a small way, and he slipped inside.
"I hardly think any of that is necess…" Matthew scoffed before his mouth fell open to see what she was wearing.
"Happy birthday, husband," Mary said provocatively, arching her eyebrow at him.
He leered at her lingerie and advanced towards her. She laughed, backing up and holding her hands up.
"Matthew," she warned. "We're here to eat."
"Yes, we are. I'm absolutely starving," he growled, staring at her lace covered breasts.
"Not yet!" she teased, secretly delighted at how ravenous he was at the mere sight of her. "Sit down!"
Matthew sighed. He walked over to the closet and removed his suit jacket, vest and shoes, stowing them neatly before he joined her in the middle of the room.
"Are we using those chairs?" he asked, looking around the room in confusion.
"No," Mary smiled. "Sit."
Matthew looked down at the rug below them. "Right here?"
Mary nodded.
"This is…peculiar," he said, sitting down on the floor.
"We always celebrate your birthday with a picnic," Mary announced, going over and retrieving the champagne bottle and two flutes. "And since being seen together outdoors is far too dangerous, I decided to bring the picnic to you here."
"Thank you, darling," Matthew said genuinely, taking the champagne bottle and glasses from her. "Truthfully, I wouldn't want you to wear that outfit outside. Even in summer, you might catch your death."
Mary rolled her eyes. She gracefully sat down, folding her legs beneath her. Matthew reached over and retrieved the serving trays and placed them all around them. He uncovered sandwiches, a Niçoise salad, and numerous canapés.
"Not exactly the feast I am craving at the moment," he said daringly, winking at Mary. "But everything looks absolutely delicious."
"Let me," she smiled, taking his arm and guiding him towards her. His eyes widened in surprise as she placed his head in her lap and took up a devilled egg and fed it to him. She laughed as he deliberately seized her wrist and licked her fingers.
After feeding him several more morsels, she urged him to sit up. Matthew opened the champagne bottle with a flourish and filled the two crystal flutes.
"To my husband, Matthew Crawley on the lovely occasion of his birthday," Mary grinned, raising her glass. "With great hopes that next year's celebration will be in open so that all the world shall know that I've married the most wonderful man."
"Perhaps we should not have the entire celebration in public, darling," Matthew smirked, raising his own glass and taking a long sip.
They ate the meal, alternating between feeding each other, talking about a variety of subjects. They joked about some of the strange people they'd met during the Season, bemoaned the boring dinners and terrible food they'd encountered, and said a quiet prayer for Dr. Crawley, for his birthday had just passed as well.
"Matthew, you're staring," Mary smiled, drinking another flute of champagne.
"You should be pleased," he said. "That outfit was surely made for holding my attention."
"I did buy it specifically for you to enjoy," Mary blushed.
Matthew swallowed, his shirt collar growing quite tight and uncomfortable. In fact, most of his clothing felt rather constricting by the second.
"You look like a forest nymph or a fairy, sent here to bewitch me and remain in your thrall," Matthew whispered, leaning towards her. He reached out and touched the flowers in her hair. "You are gorgeous, Mary," he said, punctuating each word with a kiss. "And brilliant, and strong, and so wonderful, my darling."
"This day is supposed to be about you, not me," Mary sighed, closing her eyes and caressing his face as he kissed her neck.
"Does that mean that I'm allowed to ask things of you?" he breathed, moving the strap of her camisole off her shoulder and kissing her there.
"Yes, Matthew," she moaned. "Your wish is my command."
He picked her up and got up off the floor, moving swiftly to the bedroom. He smiled at the candles and flower petals arranged around the bed, and promptly placed her on the centre of the mattress and followed in beside her.
"I've been dreaming about this day for months," he smiled, kissing her lips, then her throat, then baring her breast and caressing it with his tongue. "I don't think I've ever looked more forward to my birthday."
"Nothing and no one was going to stop me from being with you today," Mary smiled with satisfaction. She pushed his chest lightly and eased him on to his back. Her fingers deftly undid his shirt buttons, and she kissed his skin as she revealed more of him.
"Now," she said thickly, her eyes dark. "What is your first command, darling?"
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, August 1914
"I don't understand," Robert said, shaking his head at the chart Matthew had drawn for him. "It all seems rather complicated, when the current system works so well."
"We're lucky in that," Matthew said, stopping himself from scoffing. "However we open ourselves up to rather severe tax consequences as a result of the recent laws passed by the government."
"Of course," Robert frowned. "I voted against every one of those bills and they all still passed. They threatened us with some secret pact with the King, of all things! Some people will do absolutely anything to change our way of life."
"Yes, well," Matthew continued. "What I am proposing does not actually change anything around here, at least not materially, but switching our holdings over to a Crawley Family Trust allows us to reorganize and avoids our being taxed all at once at exorbitant rates."
"That I understand, and I can see the merit in it," Robert said slowly. "But what of these boxes here for Cora and the girls?"
"They would be beneficiaries of the trust, in the same way they are beneficiaries of the Estate to a degree now," Matthew said. "And as joint trustees, they would have a say in the decisions we make."
"A say? You mean a vote? Out of the question! It was never intended for them to have a vote at all!" Robert cried.
"It wouldn't be an equal vote," Matthew said. "Collectively their votes would still be less than the Earl's vote or the heir's vote, so they could never overrule anything. It's necessary to show that there is some distinction between the Trust and the current way of doing things to ensure we qualify under the law."
"And what about the way you've set out these principles here?" Robert asked.
"A Trust exists at law if it has a clear purpose, among other things. I think that if the Estate funds are to designed to be used to maintain Downton for future generations, then we should clearly set that out. There needs to be allowances for living expenses and so forth, but the bulk of the assets should be saved or invested to benefit the Estate. That way, one person cannot spend the money recklessly," Matthew said.
"But aren't we already protected by the clause in the entail that requires that we work together?" Robert asked.
"In part, yes," Matthew said. "But this would clarify matters further, and place the responsibility on individuals to explain what they are spending the Estate's money on."
"I'll need to think about this, go over it with Murray and others," Robert sighed, placing the chart down on his desk. "I am pleased that you thought of it, though. Your initiative is impressive, Matthew."
"Thank you," Matthew nodded.
"Excuse me, my Lord," Carson called from the door. "There's a telephone call for you."
"I'd better go see to that," Robert said. "Go on outside. I'll be out shortly, I expect."
Matthew nodded and walked out the doors and across the drive towards the far side of the house. He could hear laughter and conversation and the soft sounds of a string quartet. He put on his hat and smiled as he wandered through the Garden Party, Cousin Cora's crowning event to the Season.
"Ah, Cousin Matthew," Mary smiled, waving at him.
"Cousin Mary," Matthew smiled, coming to her side. "You're being rather friendly," he whispered.
"And why shouldn't I be?" Mary smirked. "It's a lovely day, Mama is in a wonderful mood and there's nothing suspicious about us talking to each other."
"I don't know," Matthew smiled. "Cousin Violet is sure to be watching us, as well as your Aunt Rosamund."
"They're talking to Isobel," Mary nodded. "Whatever comments they make will be revealed to us later, so we have nothing to fear."
"If you're so sure, then why not give your husband a proper kiss?" Matthew teased.
"Don't make me blush," Mary smiled.
"Where are your sisters?" Matthew asked, looking about.
"Edith is with Sir Anthony," Mary said dismissively. "Probably talking about the latest farm machinery that he has his eye on. Sybil is with Mama. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the guests have been invited to stay over, particularly if they have eligible sons."
"So that Sybil can have her pick of the lot," Matthew laughed.
"Something like that. How was your talk with Papa?" Mary asked, beginning to walk over to their favourite tree on the grounds.
"Not bad. He didn't reject the idea out of hand, and he understands enough of it to be intrigued and not enough of it to guess as to the possible consequences. The next hurdle will be overcoming Murray," Matthew said.
"Well, one step at a time, darling," Mary smiled. "The look on Papa's face at our first trustees' meeting would be worth the effort in itself."
"I'm not holding out hope," Matthew nodded. "John Simon is still our best bet. I'll speak to him in a few weeks when we're in London. So long as he puts my bill on the list for September, we'll have our shot."
"So, you could be spending the night in my bed by October," Mary arched her eyebrow at him.
"Not that fast, sadly," Matthew chuckled. "Anna won't have to avert her eyes so quickly. The votes will take time, but I think there's enough between the Lords who generally don't vote or don't care and the ones who are essentially in agreement with me to at least give us a chance."
They wandered back to the tents and stopped, both of them watching Robert come striding towards the party from the house.
"He won't realize what is going on until it's too late," Mary smiled.
"It's hardly a foregone conclusion, darling," Matthew warned. "The only sure thing is he'll be furious with me when the bill is presented."
"I don't care," Mary said, turning to Matthew. "I'm with you, Matthew. Win or lose."
"God, I wish I could kiss you," Matthew whispered. "Because I need to, very much."
"Tonight, darling," Mary said quietly, turning away and looking back at her Papa. "I'll come to you. And I would recommend building up your stamina this afternoon, because I intend to make love to you so long as we have energy to do so."
"Well," Matthew smiled, looking at Robert. "Who can say fairer than that?"
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Ladies and Gentlemen, please!" Robert called, raising his hands. "May I have your attention please?"
"What is he going to drone on about now?" Mary huffed.
Robert looked around grimly before speaking.
"I regret to inform you that we are at War with Germany."