Office of the Attorney-General, Palace of Westminster, London, England, August 1914
"Ah, Matthew," Viscount Simon smiled, shaking his hand and ushering him into the office. "I feared you'd gotten lost."
"I apologize for being late. The train was delayed leaving York. Thank you for seeing me," Matthew nodded, taking a seat. "I expect that you must be quite occupied."
"If only you knew the half of it," John shook his head, glancing at the piles of papers, binders and notebooks scattered across his desk. "Emergency powers, calling Parliament back early, arranging for supplies and transportation, mobilizing the reserves. It's certainly the largest scale operation that I've ever witnessed."
"I must say I still can't believe it," Matthew said. "The world seems changed from what it was even a few weeks ago."
"It is, Matthew," John said quietly. "Indeed, it is."
The Attorney-General opened a drawer and took out a familiar book.
"Now, as you can imagine, the timing of your bill has been affected. All urgent business is taking precedence, many of the proposed acts that have been in the works for months now have been cast aside," John said, opening Matthew's draft.
"Yes, I expected that would be so," Matthew said. "The last thing that I want is for it to be lost while Parliament considers far more important matters to debate. I'd rather wait for another session if necessary."
"You'll need to be patient for a while longer, I expect. The other option would be to bring it forward as part of a larger proposal, thereby making it of more importance, or to attempt to hide it as part of another bill. Both of those avenues present entirely new sets of problems," John said.
"No," Matthew shook his head. "I have enough difficulty making a plausible argument for setting aside this entail, let alone attacking the very concept itself. Perhaps I can sway enough votes based on indifference and the fact that what I am proposing will only affect Lord Grantham and no one else, but if I were to try and change property laws in their entirety, I'd be strung up."
Viscount Simon laughed.
"Have you considered other options outside of a private bill? An entail is meant to deal with land. It's a mechanism for passing property from one generation to the next. The money in the Estate is a different matter altogether. You could leave the entail the way that it is and look to change the way that the money of the Estate is managed and spent, if that were your goal," John proposed.
"It's more involved than that, sadly," Matthew said. "I won't bore you with the details, but most of the money is tied to the Estate, which is in turn tied to the Earldom. There are possible ways to separate them, if I can get Robert to agree, but I think that if I can remove the entail, the rest will fall off. I'm trying to keep all options open for now, including seeking help from Parliament."
"And you're still confident that Lord Grantham will keep you in his Will even if you are successful?" John asked.
"He doesn't want to be known as the Earl who left his heir penniless and without a home. Besides, he doesn't have anyone else that he trusts to pass the land to and be confident it will survive. As strange as it sounds, I believe he trusts me more than he does anyone else in the rest of the family. He'll be angry with me, surely, but he won't do anything drastic out of spite. It's more important to him to know he followed the guidelines of his predecessors, entail or not," Matthew said. "I'm not against the idea of the Estate going from one Earl to the next. It's being forced to do so that I have a quarrel with."
"You do realize, Matthew, how precarious a position you are placing yourself in?" John said gravely. "If you do not succeed in this, for as ridiculous a reason as Parliament simply doesn't feel like agreeing with you on the day that this comes up for a vote, you'll be known, truthfully or not, as the man who tried to break an entail that Parliament deemed unbreakable. You'll be seen as a horrible lawyer, an even worse politician, and a fool on top of that."
"It's far from a perfect solution, and I don't mean to pretend that it is," Matthew nodded. "Some days I think I'm completely wrong and am pursuing a course of action that is patently impossible. I have nightmares about being the laughingstock of the House and all of London Society. I think about some of my former colleagues back in Manchester reading about my colossal failure and laughing about how I should have realized it was all doomed from the start. There are a myriad of reasons to not attempt what I am trying to do, not the least of which is I could be wrong about the whole thing."
"However?" John smirked.
"However I'm not arguing before a Court, and this isn't an academic exercise," Matthew said. "The correctness of my position is frankly irrelevant. What one considers illegal one moment is perfectly legal the next based on what Parliament orders or a Judge may decide. The law evolves. If it didn't, we'd still be following Hammurabi today. The same Lords who would try and tell me that what I'm attempting is futile likely voted against the People's Budget as well. And that's the key in the end. All that matters is whether I can convince enough Lords to vote my way, or more importantly to not vote against the bill. One thing that I have learned in my brief time here is that politics isn't necessarily about being correct."
"No, no it isn't," John smiled.
"Every mountain is unclimbable until someone climbs it," Matthew said.
John smirked. "Still, you do risk a great deal, Matthew."
"If this doesn't work, I'll have lost far more than my reputation," Matthew said. "And frankly, anyone who thinks I'm wrong or a bad lawyer or stupidly naïve for trying to change an archaic and unjust instrument can go sod off."
John laughed. "Well, you may not be a sound policy maker just yet, but I'm pleased to see that the part of your character that is doggedly stubborn still carries on. Very well. Leave it with me. Continue to manage your relationships with those in the House and when the moment comes where Parliament is more open to considering non-War related matters, I'll ring you and you can take your shot."
"Thank you," Matthew said, rising and shaking the Attorney-General's hand.
"Good luck to you, Matthew," John nodded.
"And to you, John," Matthew said before leaving the office.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, August 1914
"Everyone, we have an announcement to make," Cora smiled.
"My, this sounds serious," Mary raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of wine.
"It is," Robert nodded. "Sir Anthony Strallan has asked for my permission to propose to Edith, and I have granted it."
Edith smiled, looking down at her plate.
"What?" Mary exclaimed. "When?"
"At the Garden Party," Cora said cheerfully. "Sir Anthony asked Papa and once that was settled, Edith of course said yes."
"Oh, darling, congratulations!" Sybil grinned, squeezing Edith's hand.
"Yes," Matthew said, smiling incredulously. "Congratulations, Edith. That's wonderful news."
"Thank you. I'm very happy," Edith nodded.
"Are you quite sure?" Mary laughed. "We are talking about the same Strallan aren't we? The one who's nearly Papa's age? The one who's boring as paint?"
"Mary!" Cora scolded her.
"I find him very interesting, actually," Edith said coldly. "He was intending all along to ask Papa at the Garden Party, and the announcement of War only confirmed that he didn't want to waste another moment."
"But why?" Mary chuckled. "It isn't as if he'll be called up. Papa, doesn't the Army have an age limit?"
"Mary!" Cora frowned.
"Sir Anthony is still young enough to go fight for His Majesty, and we should be honoured to have such an upstanding man as part of this family," Robert replied, not looking at Mary. "Someone who understands the importance of duty is always welcome in this House."
Mary rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine.
"Speaking of the War, it's obvious that it will affect us. We need to set an example for our tenants and the villagers and all those under our care. It must be clear to all that our cause is just and that we support the government and the Army. Is that understood?" Robert asked.
"Yes, Robert, of course," Matthew replied.
"Yes, Papa," Sybil nodded.
"Your Mama is going to organize efforts in the Village. I suspect there will be collections at Church, fundraisers, that sort of thing. If any of the villagers enlist, that should be brought to my or Matthew's attention. We want to make sure they all receive a proper sending off," Robert nodded.
"Absolutely," Matthew agreed.
"I know that it does not bear repeating, but Matthew will be the head of this House. I expect his commands to be obeyed," Robert finished.
"Why? Where are you going?" Mary asked, perplexed at the change in subject.
"I spoke to the War Office when I was in London," Robert said. "The Green Howards have been called up and I shall be taking up my commission with them once again."
"You're going to War, Papa?" Edith exclaimed.
Cora looked down at her plate and frowned.
Mary looked at her father in confusion, as though she didn't hear what he'd said, or didn't believe it.
"Yes," Robert nodded. "The Earls of Grantham have fought bravely for this country for generations, and I shall continue that tradition, as I have done in the past. Accordingly, Matthew
will hold power in my stead."
"Will you be going to Belgium?" Matthew asked. "I'm not aware of whether there is a training period or not."
"First the lads will convene at Sandhurst for evaluation and training if necessary, and we'll receive our orders shortly after. I'll be leaving this weekend."
Matthew frowned, looking vacantly at the table centrepiece for several moments. The rest of the family was silent, Robert's words still hanging in the air. Finally, Matthew raised his glass and called for attention.
"To Robert Crawley, Seventh Earl of Grantham. Good luck and God speed," Matthew said.
The rest of the family raised their glasses and murmured their agreement. Robert looked at Matthew and smiled.
"I wish you'd told me beforehand. It came as quite a shock," Matthew said.
"I already had to endure an entire ordeal when I told Cora," Robert huffed. "I had no interest in repeating the same conversation with you. Besides, I suspect that you would have tried to convince me otherwise."
"I would have," Matthew nodded. "I don't presume to know very much at all about military matters, but surely you've served our country admirably already and it's time for someone else to carry the flag, if you forgive the implication."
"That's precisely why I did not tell you," Robert said. "Our House needs to be represented, and I do not want you to go."
"But surely it should be me that does go," Matthew said. "I do not wish to be seen as hiding behind you."
"You're not," Robert said kindly. "But you know nothing of War, or of being a soldier, and there's no shame in saying that you would be placing yourself in danger by enlisting. I've fought before. I know my men. I know my battalion. The transition will be manageable for me. Your place is here."
"You have far more experience than I do, of course, but I am concerned for you, just the same," Matthew shook his head.
"I do appreciate your sentiment, my boy," Robert smiled. "But I expect this conflict will be over in several months. Perhaps not by Christmas as some would have us believe, but I can't see this stretching much beyond next Winter. Neither side has the resources for it."
"Even still, being pushed into your chair, even for a few months, is a daunting task," Matthew said.
"You'll do fine," Robert nodded. "You already know all that is required, and truthfully not much can happen between now and Spring. The country will be wrapped up in War, but life will continue. You may need to manage some of the numbers if more servants enlist and what not, but you'll have Carson to help you, and if anything comes up, you can rely on Murray. I don't expect any problems. Edith's wedding won't be until next year."
"As you wish, Robert," Matthew said.
"It is crucial that we are a part of the victory," Robert said firmly. "The image of our House can only be helped by this. Remember that – when opportunity presents itself for us to show ourselves in a positive light for all of the Empire to see, we must be quick and decisive."
"Yes, Robert," Matthew said, sipping his port.
"I can't believe you're letting him do this," Mary said, frowning.
"I'm not letting him do anything. He's the head of this family and he makes the decisions," Cora retorted.
"But surely you implored him to stay, Mama?" Sybil asked. "Is he truly needed in the Army?"
"I expect that your Papa wants to do his duty," Cora said carefully. "I did ask him not to go, but he was insistent."
"Of course he was," Mary rolled her eyes. "This isn't about duty. He wants to go play soldier again and reap the glory."
"Mary!" Cora frowned.
"Why would he volunteer? He hasn't served in years," Mary scoffed.
"His Majesty has called the country to arms, Mary, and your Papa has answered. It's very honourable what he's doing. I suspect Sir Anthony may do the same," Cora said.
"Is that true, Edith?" Sybil asked.
"We haven't discussed it," Edith said shakily. "Though he was in the forces before."
"Your Papa's decision is made and I expect all of you to support him. This is not a subject for debate. We will give him the respect and encouragement that he deserves," Cora said firmly, looking at each of her daughters in turn.
Mary pursed her lips and shook her head, staring into the fireplace.
When the morning came for Robert to depart, the entire House gathered to see him off. The servants arranged themselves in rank, the maids on one end and the footmen on the other, with the rest of the staff in between organized by seniority and position. Robert made a point of talking to each of them, accepting their well wishes and assuring them all he would be home shortly. He shared a moment with both Bates and Carson, then moved on to his family.
"Goodbye, Mama," Robert nodded to the Dowager Countess.
"Good luck to you," Violet nodded, smiling tightly. "I expect your swift and safe return.
Robert moved down the line, smiling politely to Isobel, kissing Cora on the cheek briefly and embracing each of Sybil and Edith. He stopped in front of Mary and nodded to her.
"Goodbye, Papa," Mary said tightly. "And such good luck."
Robert stared at her for a moment, then nodded and walked on.
"I'll try not to burn the house down while you're away," Matthew said, shaking Robert's hand.
"Well if you did, at least I could easily claim it had nothing to do with me and was entirely your fault," Robert smiled. "Do take care of everyone. It can be a thankless task sometimes, but the family relies on the Lord of the manor, and for the coming months, that's you, Matthew."
"Yes, Robert. I will. Good luck," Matthew said.
Robert Crawley, Seventh Earl of Grantham took one long last look at Downton Abbey, then quickly stepped into the waiting motor. The door was closed behind him and soon the car headed off down the lane in a small cloud of dust and gravel. The servants all filed back into the house, and Cora led the family through, with tea planned to be taken in the parlour. Matthew followed them, starting up a conversation with Sybil and Isobel as they went inside.
Mary remained, standing alone outside staring off into the distance where Robert's car had long disappeared. She took a long breath, then turned and went back inside.
Matthew closed the door to his bedroom quietly as he came out into the hall. He took a few moments to adjust his vision to the darkness around him, then moved silently down the hall. He crossed the gallery, past the stairs and over into the Family Wing. He paused several times, standing still against the wall and listening for the slightest sound. Besides the odd creaking of the house and the ticking of the large clock downstairs, all was quiet.
He opened the door to Mary's bedroom and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He sniffed the air with surprise but didn't let the overpowering scent distract him. He moved in the dark, removing his robe and shirt. He pulled the blankets back and crawled into her bed.
Mary was laying on her usual side of the bed, her back to him. He reached out and stroked his fingers along her bare arm. She did not turn around. He came closer to her, fitting himself against her and kissing her shoulder lightly.
"It smells rather…different, in here," he said with a warm smile.
"I dropped a bottle of perfume earlier," Mary mumbled, still facing away from him. "Do you find it unpleasant?"
"No," Matthew said, kissing her neck. "I'm more used to the scent being rather subtle on your skin, rather than so strong in the air, but I'm not against it."
"Because you've just entered a tart's boudoir?" Mary said bitterly.
"I've come to my wife's bedroom," Matthew replied, ignoring her sour mood. "And I would lie with her in a barn if that's what it took."
Mary shook her head and sighed, curling his arm across her chest.
"What's the matter?" Matthew asked softly.
"I didn't think that Papa would actually go," Mary muttered. "And since he left this morning I can't help but wonder…"
"If he's coming back," Matthew finished.
She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers.
"I wanted this life for us, and I knew that it would anger Papa, but I never planned on having a life without him entirely," Mary whispered. "With the country at War now and Papa gone away to fight, the idea of being Countess of Grantham one day seems entirely unimportant.
"Papa once told me that war has a way of distinguishing between the things that matter and the things that don't," Matthew nodded.
"Was he ever in the Army?" Mary asked.
"No, but he treated numerous soldiers in the past, and helped treat many who had issues arising from their service – shell shock, amputations, and so on," Matthew explained.
"What does this all mean for us, Matthew?" Mary asked.
"I don't know," Matthew said. "With Robert gone, we could announce our marriage and who would oppose us? Murray or Jarvis might say something out of loyalty, but I could just sack them."
"What about our children?" Mary asked. "Would they be legitimate?"
"At first, yes, if only because no one would bother with them, but eventually, once I sat in the House, some may question it all. If the Estate does not have a proper heir to take it on, then the title would end and the assets could be distributed by the government. It would be in the interest of others that there be no legitimate heir so they could have Downton for a song. It would be a mess, but we wouldn't be here to see it," Matthew reasoned.
"Hardly a ringing endorsement," Mary scoffed.
"He's not gone, you know," Matthew said. "He'll have leave, he'll write, be kept updated on the latest news. If the War ends early next year, he'll be back and could cause problems for us if we were to be reckless."
"So do you wish to keep our marriage a secret, but continue to keep acting married, then?" Mary smirked.
"Do you?" Matthew asked.
"I could live this way for a fair amount of time. I've gotten used to it, whether that's good or bad," Mary said sadly. "But I want to be with you, truly and completely, without worrying about anything."
"As do I, my darling," Matthew kissed her neck. "As do I."
"So we stay the course?" Mary asked.
"Not exactly," Matthew smiled. "We should take advantage of the opportunity with Robert being gone."
"To do what?" Mary frowned, turning over and looking at him.
"I'll tell you tomorrow," Matthew smiled, leaning down and kissing her.
After several moments, she pushed back on his chest.
"Darling, I'm so sorry," she looked away from him. "It's just that with Papa leaving this morning and everything that…"
"Sleep, Mary," Matthew smiled, kissing her softly. "I'll hold you until you drift off."
She reached up and caressed his face tenderly, then pushed him on to his back and fitting herself against his chest.
"Sir, Mr. Carson said you wanted to see me, sir?" Thomas said as he came into the library.
"Yes, Thomas. One moment," Matthew said, flipping pages on the desk in front of him. He looked over the document for several moments, then picked it up and rose from his chair.
"I wanted to personally wish you well, Thomas," Matthew said. "We will miss you, but I do understand that you feel you must do your duty to His Majesty, and that is very honourable of you. You'll be in our prayers, and I do hope you'll write when you can."
"Of course, sir," Thomas smiled, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, sir."
"I also wanted you to look over something before you left," Matthew said, looking at the document in his hand. "You will recall that I mentioned to you months ago that I would need to rely upon you."
"Yes, sir," Thomas nodded. "I'll do what I can, sir."
"Good man, Thomas," Matthew smiled, handing him the document. "Take your time. I want to be certain that you understand everything written here."
Matthew motioned to the sofa and Thomas went over and sat down. Matthew stood by the desk, watching the footman intently.
Thomas read the document, turning the pages as he went. His eyes narrowed, then widened, then he swallowed audibly.
"What…what is this, sir?" Thomas said softly, looking up. His skin was pale, his hands shaking.
"It's an affidavit, Thomas. Your affidavit, to be precise," Matthew said, his expression neutral. "A sworn statement setting out certain events to which you have personal knowledge. With you going off to War, I wanted to make sure that I was clear on this particular matter so there's no need to trouble you at the Front. I wouldn't want you to be distracted and unable to focus when you are over there. This affidavit clarifies certain statements that you made before, and corrects them."
"I…I don't understand, sir," Thomas muttered. "I was very clear to His Lordship…"
"Yes, I am aware of what you told His Lordship, Thomas," Matthew said easily. "It seems to me though, that your story has several peculiarities."
"Peculiarities, sir?"
"Yes. For example, what were you doing in the Family Wing that evening? Bates was the valet for His Lordship and Louis was the valet for Patrick. You would have no reason to be in that part of the house so late in the evening, and certainly you would have no reason to be anywhere near Lady Mary's bedroom, would you, Thomas?" Matthew asked.
"I was taking care of Mr. Pamuk that evening, sir."
"Ah yes, Mr. Pamuk," Matthew nodded. "And if you were taking care of him, in the Bachelor's Wing, what brought you to the Family Wing?"
"I went through to the servants' stairs, sir."
"And Mr. Pamuk followed behind you on his way to his liaison with Lady Mary, and that's how you noticed him, wasn't it, Thomas?" Matthew asked.
"Yes, exactly, sir."
"And how did Mr. Pamuk know which bedroom was Lady's Mary's, Thomas?"
"I assume she gave him directions, sir."
"And why do you suppose he would have ventured to her bedroom so soon after you'd departed, such that you would be in a position to not only see him, but conveniently, for Louis to be so close at hand to see him as well?" Matthew asked.
"I…I went and fetched Louis when I saw Mr. Pamuk go to Lady Mary's bedroom, sir."
"And where was Louis? Was he with Patrick, or was he downstairs?" Matthew asked.
"He was…downstairs, sir. We went to fetch Mr. Patrick together."
"Ah, I see, and the three of you went back up to Lady Mary's bedroom and that's when Patrick heard Lady Mary and Mr. Pamuk in the throes, as it were," Matthew said.
"Yes…yes, sir."
"And the three of you stood idly by and waited for them to…finish…did you?" Matthew frowned.
"We…we saw Mr. Pamuk come out of her bedroom and she kissed him goodnight, sir."
"And how did you see that, exactly? By the light of his candle?" Matthew asked.
"Yes, sir."
"But why would he need a candle if he went to Lady Mary's bedroom right after you attended to him? The house is not closed down for the evening until hours after all of the family and guests are attended to, Thomas, isn't that right?" Matthew said.
"Yes…yes, sir."
"Are you saying that in the time that you, Louis and Patrick were standing around outside Lady Mary's bedroom, the lights were turned off in the hallway? The man must have been rather well endowed to be able to last for so many hours," Matthew said saracastically.
"Yes, sir…or, no, sir. I don't know, sir."
"Thomas, I don't blame you," Matthew said. "I believe you had good reason to fabricate your story to His Lordship. What I am asking you to do now, is to make up for that mistake."
"What reason could I have to lie to His Lordship, sir?" Thomas asked indignantly.
"Because you had no choice," Mary said, coming into the room.
Thomas' mouth fell open. "M…my Lady," he mumbled.
"Thomas," Mary said, coming over to him. "I know how cruel Patrick could be. And I suppose you had no reason to think of my side of things. We haven't exactly ever been friends. You don't need to explain your actions to me. Sign this affidavit and I shall consider your part in this matter absolved."
"Lady Mary, I…"
"Or, I'll have no choice but to bring my theory to Carson and Mrs. Hughes, and see what they think of the matter," she said. "I imagine they will find it rather convincing that the heir presumptive agrees with me."
"Sir, Lady Mary already explained herself to His Lordship the morning after the incident in question. What reason do you have to suspect that she is telling…"
Matthew took out the photograph that he and Mary found in the attic and turned it over, showing Thomas the note written by Patrick to Louis.
Thomas swallowed. He glanced at Matthew, then at Mary.
"Now why would Patrick have reason to remind Louis of those specific verses from scripture? And why is your face circled on the photograph?" Matthew asked.
"He told us that he only wanted to teach you a lesson," Thomas whispered, not looking at Mary. "We didn't think that you would be banished from the house!"
"I don't care," Mary said firmly. "I have bigger fish to fry now."
"If word got out about my role in all this, I would be ruined. I would never be able to work anywhere else," Thomas said nervously.
"We have no intention of making this public knowledge," Matthew said. "I'm going to hold your affidavit until an appropriate time to use it comes up. I expect it will not leave the walls of this house."
Thomas picked up the pen and turned the affidavit to the signature page.
"Do you swear the statements contained in this affidavit are true, so help you God?" Matthew asked, administering the oath.
"I do," Thomas said quietly, signing the affidavit.
Matthew took the document from him and signed as a commissioner of oaths. He extended his hand to Thomas.
"You've done yourself and Louis' memory a service, Thomas," Matthew nodded. "We'll pray for you, as I said. I hope this War ends soon and we see you back here safely."
"Thank you, sir," Thomas said, rising and shaking Matthew's hand. "My Lady."
"Thomas."
The footman walked quickly from the library.
"Are you certain that you wouldn't have made a good barrister?" Mary asked, smirking at Matthew.
"Quite," Matthew said, smiling back at her. "I was fortunate enough that he wanted the truth to come out. If he kept denying everything, I'm not so sure we would have turned him, even with the photograph."
"Well, we have his sworn statement now," Mary nodded.
"We do," Matthew said, looking at her intently. "And on we go."
Drewe Farm, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, September 1914
"I'm so sorry, my Lady," Mrs. Drewe babbled, placing a plate of biscuits in front of Mary. "Had I known you would be coming, I would have prepared something."
"The fault is entirely mine," Mary smiled. "I do hope you'll forgive my intrusion, but Mr. Crawley ordered that I come speak to you straight away."
"How may we be of service, my Lady?" Mr. Drewe asked.
"Your neighbour, Mr. Taylor, has sadly fallen on difficult times," Mary said quietly. "As you know, two of his sons fell at the Battle of Mons, and he's no longer able to maintain his property with any regularity."
"He's tried, my Lady," Mr. Drewe nodded. "But he was struggling even before the War, I'm afraid."
"He was, admirably," Mary agreed. "Which is why we're going to help him by taking the farm back. He and his wife will move into a cottage nearby, and he'll still remain a part of this community."
"What do you intend to do with his land, my Lady?" Mr. Drewe asked.
"The crop yield from last year was low. It's been low for ten straight years. We think the land hasn't been used to its fullest potential. We'll plant once more after this year's harvest, but we're going to set aside some of the land for other purposes," Mary said crisply.
"Other purposes, my Lady?" Mrs. Drewe asked.
"Yes. Pigs, in particular," Mary said authoritatively.
"Pigs?" Mr. Drewe exclaimed.
"Yes," Mary nodded. "We have a group of Tamworths to start, and we'll see how it does before we decide to pursue it further."
"That is ambitious, my Lady," Mr. Drewe said.
"Yes, well, Mr. Crawley is a rather ambitious fellow," Mary said lightly, desperately trying to hold back a wide grin. Not that she was afraid that these tenants would read anything into her behaviour at the mention of her husband, but she was so used to being indifferent and cold to Matthew in public, that referring to him in any other way was daring and thrilling to her.
"But his plans can only succeed if we have a skilled pig man at the reins," Mary smiled, sipping her tea.
Mr. and Mrs. Drewe exchanged a shocked glance.
"You wouldn't happen to know of someone who could help us, do you, Mr. Drewe?" Mary smiled.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, October 1914
Matthew signed the documents and organized them in a neat stack. He placed the pen to one side and handed the documents to Murray.
"There you are," he said quickly, rising from the desk. "Be sure it's filed by the end of the week and call me to confirm when it's all done."
"Yes, Mr. Crawley," Murray nodded, placing the documents in his briefcase. "Will that be all?"
"Yes, thank you," Matthew nodded. "You'll stay for luncheon, of course."
Murray blinked in surprise. "I was planning on just nipping a bite in the Village, sir."
"Well that's nonsense," Matthew furrowed his brow. "You'll eat with us. That way you'll be able to speak knowledgably the next time that His Lordship asks you for an update on how the family is doing. I'll have Bates take care of you if necessary. We eat at one o'clock."
"Thank you, Mr. Crawley," Murray said slowly, still confused as Matthew left the room with a wave of his hand.
"Murray will be joining us for luncheon," Matthew announced as he came into the parlour.
"I'll have Mrs. Hughes inform Mrs. Patmore," Cora replied, glancing at Violet briefly.
"Thank you," Matthew said, coming over and sitting down in a chair. "Carson, if Murray requires anything, please have Bates attend to him. I won't require him until dinner."
"Yes, Mr. Crawley," Carson nodded from across the room before he turned and left.
"What business required Murray to come down from London?" Violet asked lightly as Matthew leafed through a book.
"He brought some papers for me to sign," Matthew said, closing the book and placing it on the coffee table. "I'm selling some of our stock, in companies in the New World mostly. With War going on, I think it better to have the money closer at hand."
Violet frowned.
"Why is that, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil asked quietly.
"Sybil!" Cora scolded her.
Sybil looked away.
"Cousin Matthew and Papa deal with the family business, Sybil. We don't," Edith said.
Mary rolled her eyes.
"It's no bother," Matthew smiled. "You see, Sybil, investing in companies in Canada and America carries greater risk than if we were to invest here in England, for example. If something goes wrong overseas, then we'd lose our money. There's risk here at home as well, of course, but at least here we have the opportunity to learn more about the companies we invest in, rather than send the money to a foreign land far away. I think it's best if we cash out now, take the money back that we've made so far, and consider other options."
Sybil nodded slowly.
"Is that wise?" Violet asked. "To change position so quickly in the face of this unfortunate business in Belgium?"
"It's no longer Belgium, I'm afraid. It's spread to France now, and well beyond," Matthew replied. "There's industries here in Britain that are possibly more lucrative, and it makes me feel better to be investing in our own, rather than send the money abroad."
"Well, so long as it makes you feel better," Violet said haughtily.
"It does," Matthew retorted, rising from his chair. "I'm enjoying it immensely."
Violet huffed as Matthew walked towards the door.
"I'm going to tour one of the farms before luncheon. Cousin Mary, why don't you accompany me? I'll meet you in the Great Hall when you're ready," Matthew called.
"As you wish, Cousin Matthew," Mary said indifferently.
Edith watched Matthew leave the room.
"You seem to be getting along with Cousin Matthew as of late," she remarked.
"His ideas for the Estate are refreshingly modern," Mary answered. "And I don't mind spending time with him, so long as it's in limited amounts."
"He certainly has many ideas, doesn't he?" Violet frowned.
"I'm not sure that Robert would be in favour of all of them," Cora shook her head. "Moving tenants to cottages, farming some of the land ourselves, now selling stock. He's changing a lot very quickly."
"But Papa left him in charge, didn't he?" Sybil asked. "He's within his rights to want to do these things, whatever they are."
"To a degree, yes," Cora said. "Papa left him power over certain matters."
"And has he exceeded his powers as of yet?" Mary asked.
"No, I can't say that he has," Cora admitted.
"Exactly," Mary declared. "Well, I had best go and change for my farm tour."
"Just don't do anything to embarrass him," Cora said firmly. "I don't know why he requires you to go with him anyway."
"The tenants know me better than they know him, Mama," Mary said. "Even though I've been away, they all remember me from before. Cousin Matthew is still a stranger to them. They're more comfortable if one of us is with him."
"She's right," Edith said. "I went into the Village with him earlier this week. His ideas for rationing food and discouraging hoarding went over rather well."
"He seems still a stranger to me," Violet noted. "He's been here for a year and I feel as though I barely know him."
"Well then you shouldn't be opposed to my going with him then, to keep him in line," Mary smiled, biding everyone a good morning before leaving.
"Mary keeping someone else in line. That's funny," Edith laughed.
"You shouldn't spar with Granny," Mary said firmly. "She's suspicious of you as it is. There's no need to further stir her ire."
"What could she possibly do?" Matthew asked as they walked along the fence line. "The truth about me is far more shocking than anything her imagination could dream up."
"And what truth is that?" Mary smirked.
"That I've somehow seduced her granddaughter and kept her in my thrall," Matthew smiled.
"Darling, you hardly seduced me. I chose you," Mary laughed.
"That's even more scandalous. An Earl's daughter throwing her lot in with a middle class solicitor? For shame, Mary," Matthew raised his eyebrow teasingly at her.
"You're enjoying this," Mary grinned. "Presiding over the house, giving commands, strolling over your domain with me on your arm."
"A veritable Trollope novel come to life," Matthew smiled.
"Here we are," Mary smiled, stopping in front of a large fence post. "Your land, Mr. Crawley."
"I thought all of it was ours," Matthew said.
"Well, it is, yes, but this is the border of the farm you have just purchased," Mary clarified.
Matthew surveyed the land, looking into the distance.
"Do you see it, Mary?" he asked. "Do you see how it all works? We already have that far parcel there, and this one behind. To not link them all together with this property here makes no sense. It makes no sense at all."
"I agree," Mary nodded. "But Papa will be incensed when he returns and discovers what you've done."
"Not if I am able to tell him how happy the Taylor and Clark families are in their new lives, and show him the return on our investment that I expect," Matthew said.
"Then you had best hope for a bumper crop," Mary said. "And that our lovely pigs fetch the prices you expect."
"It may be next year before Robert returns," Matthew said. "We have some time to build our case."
"Or do something that will make him even more angry," Mary smirked.
"If there's more money in the Estate, it doesn't matter whether he likes what I've done or agrees with me or not," Matthew said. "Keeping us out of bankruptcy is what I'm concerned about, not impressing your father."
"Do you truly believe the conflict will go on for that long?" Mary asked.
"They're talking about a war that will take thee years and require an army a million strong," Matthew sighed. "It's hard to know what to believe."
"Three years…" Mary repeated. "I don't know if I can wait that long, Matthew."
"You won't have to," Matthew said. "We'll take our chance before then, and fate shall decide."
"I don't trust my future to fate," Mary shook her head.
"Truly? Then what do you believe in, darling?" Matthew asked.
"You," Mary said simply.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her firmly, refusing to let her draw back as he caressed her tongue with his.
"Matthew!" she breathed when he released her mouth. "Someone could see us!"
"There's only birds and pigs around here, Mary," Matthew grinned. "And they already know our secret."
Mary laughed as he pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her as they kissed again. She opened her mouth and pushed her tongue forward, rewarded by his groan at her boldness.