Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, November 1915

Robert cleared his throat as he stared into the fire. Mary and Matthew had retired over an hour ago, but he felt their presence all around him. Their words echoed in his mind. Their fierce and determined glances stared back at him. If they meant to shock him, they had. If they meant to sway him or deceive him, he still remained undecided.

"Mary and I have been married since December 20, 1911, Robert."

Their story seemed entirely ridiculous and fabricated, and yet a nagging feeling in his gut prevented Robert from dismissing it entirely. Robert knew that Mary had volunteered at the same hospital where Isobel and Matthew's father worked. Mary had worked directly under Isobel's supervision. Those facts were irrefutable. The opportunity for them to meet certainly was there. But when Matthew first arrived at Downton Abbey, he claimed never to have met Mary before, and Lord Merton never informed Robert about any connection between them, let alone a relationship. How could they have hidden their relationship – their marriage! – from everyone in Manchester?

Robert frowned. The same way they could hide it from everyone at Downton Abbey since Mary's return and Matthew's arrival over two years ago. Staying apart. Speaking briefly and politely. Arguing and protesting having to spend time in each other's company. Mary was never chaperoned as he and Cora never saw a need to do so given what had happened to her. As the heir, Matthew could come and go as he pleased. It was conceivable that they could spend time together outside of anyone's view.

In Manchester, they did not live together, of that Robert was certain. Being under the same roof must have felt like a honeymoon for them by comparison, even with the sneaking around they may have been up to.

"I will never have any regrets where Mary is concerned. And my eyes were wide open when I proposed to her."

It was one thing if Matthew wanted to take Mary as his wife to save himself from being dragged into the Army. Though there were better candidates, frankly, Robert wasn't overly concerned about who he married for that sole purpose. He wanted someone from their world who at least understood the importance of being Countess of Grantham, but in a worst case scenario, Robert would arrange for a divorce. There were ways. Pay the woman enough to admit adultery, invent some reason why the marriage should be annulled on the basis of fraud or deception. The details were irrelevant. Robert wanted Matthew protected from War. The woman chosen for that role was not overly important.

But Matthew was clear that Mary was his wife, had been for nearly four years now, and he obviously had every intention of keeping her as such. He wanted Mary to be Countess of Grantham. The idea was not always as distasteful to Robert as it was now. That was always the plan from when Mary was a young girl, and she was groomed specifically for that role. Though they had never had a normal and cordial conversation since her return, Robert knew that Mary still had the same sharp mind and clever wit that she always did. Manchester had not dulled those parts of her. The only reason she was not qualified to be Countess of Grantham was due to her sullied past.

"Mary isn't a fallen woman. Not in my eyes. And I know the truth of what happened to her, unlike you."

Robert stared at the footman's affidavit sitting on the side table. Thomas could have been coerced to sign it, or his signature could have been forged. He had left for War and as far as Robert knew, the most anyone had heard of him was through a few letters sent downstairs. It was convenient that the only people who could corroborate or refute Mary's claims were either dead, at War or unreachable behind enemy lines in Turkey. No, even if Robert were to objectively look at all that had been revealed to him this night, it came down to Mary's word. Even Matthew and likely Isobel's support was not determinative. Who knew what promises were made to them to buy their allegiance? And truly, what did Robert know about these long lost relatives? No, it came down to whether he believed Mary or not, believed what she said happened, and did not happen to her all those years ago, and whether that legitimized her marriage to Matthew and her claim to be Countess of Grantham.

"I'm your daughter! That was your bloody reason! They told you a story and you believed them! You had your mind made up before I even entered the library that morning. You assumed that I was nothing but a pretty face with a penchant for rebellion; that I would let a man I'd just met into my bed, with no regard for my own self worth or my family name."

Robert turned back to the fire. Why would Mary hide her marriage from her family if she knew she was a victim all along? Why the need for such a ruse if she was without fault and had not been defiled by Pamuk or Patrick during the Hunt so long past?

Robert grunted out loud, putting his empty glass down on the side table. To reveal the truth, particularly given Mary's position and the rumours about her, Mary required trust and belief. She needed to trust that her family would take her side and she needed them to believe in her version of the story. His Mama would believe her. Edith and Sybil as well. Even Cora, despite years of silently acquiescing to Robert's stance on the matter, would probably be elated if there was any hope that Mary could be saved. But none of their opinions truly mattered. They were women. He was the Earl.

Robert exhaled as he looked into the flickering flames. The gravity of the situation descended upon him like a shroud, making the air thick and stuffy.

What reason had he ever given Mary to convince her that he would ever believe anything she had to say?

Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, November 1890

Robert had been back in London from his honeymoon for barely an hour before Carson summoned him to meet his father in the library. Cora was busy with following his Mama around and helping to plan that evening's dinner. Robert expected he would see his parents then, but this early summons delighted him. He was a married man now. He imagined his father would have two glasses of Scotch awaiting them, a brief toast and a nod, welcoming back in a fashion that suited his elevated status. Robert was no longer a young man anymore. He was now truly the heir, with a wife and the means to continue the Grantham line. His long struggle to earn his father's respect and acceptance was finally paying dividends.

"Lord Grantham said you could enter at 4:00, and not a minute before," Carson nodded.

Robert stood quietly, taking out his pocket watch and counting the seconds. He barely flinched anymore at these petty displays of authority. He distracted himself by imagining all he would change when he became the Earl.

Carson opened the door and announced Robert to Lord Grantham. The butler closed the door and disappeared after Robert entered the room.

Arthur Crawley was sitting at a desk, his back turned to Robert. Knowing what this signified, Robert stopped a respectable distance away and waited for his father to address him first. After a few minutes of being ignored, Robert cleared his throat to get his father's attention.

"Robert," Arthur said with disdain. "I know you are there. Contain your childish impatience, and I will be with you in another minute."

Robert stood still, his eyes trained on his father's back. Nothing could lower his mood now. His thoughts drifted back to his honeymoon, and how surprisingly enjoyable it was. Cora was far warmer than he expected, and she was dutiful and did not refuse him anything. His eyes had certainly been opened. Perhaps they could forge a beneficial partnership after all, he thought.

"For heaven's sake wipe that smirk off your face," Arthur said as he stood from his desk. He buttoned his suit and walked over to the snifter of whiskey and poured himself one.

"Sorry father," Robert said automatically. "I was just thinking about my honeymoon."

"You must have enjoyed yourself," Arthur said as he sipped his drink. "You looked like you've gained almost a whole stone worth of weight."

Robert held his father's gaze and didn't flinch at the remark. He wanted him to see that he was unaffected by his tone; he was ready for more responsibility and to share the work that Downton required.

"Well," Arthur said as he continued to stare at his son. "As you've heard, I know James wrote to you, I've exercised my power to make a minor change to the entail. It is now a requirement that the next Earl works with his heir. I had my lawyers draft a bill that successfully went through Parliament."

"Congratulations Papa," Robert said with enthusiasm. "So, now we can officially work side by side. I know I have a lot to learn, but I'm ready."

Arthur chuckled as he set his drink down. He picked up the snifter and poured himself another whiskey. As he brought the glass to his lips, he stared at his son, at his eagerness and impetuous behaviour and how he stared at the alcohol.

"Help yourself," Arthur offered as he gestured at the bottle.

Robert stepped forward cautiously. He held up the glass towards his father.

"To the future," he said with pride.

"Robert, don't be so naïve," Arthur said with disappointment. He removed his pocket watch and looked at the time as though he had a more important engagement pressing on him. "The change that I've made requires that you will work with James. It does not apply to our current arrangement."

"But our current arrangement is that you make all of the decisions, Papa," Robert stammered a little. "I thought you would want to share some of the power with me now that I…"

"Now that you what?" Arthur interrupted. "You married that Levinson girl, a marriage that I brokered for you, and you think you are somehow now fit to rule at my side?"

Robert swallowed.

"I chose this moment because I knew you would arrive home with false beliefs about your future. Between your mother and your wife it falls to me to remove the nonsense that seems to surround you. So, now you know where you stand, where you belong. Not beside me, but behind me, with the others."

"I don't understand what I've done," Robert said, putting his untouched drink down. "Why don't you trust me? What can I do to make you trust me with even a small amount of responsibility?"

"You've proven quite conclusively that the small amount of responsibility I previously entrusted to you was far more than you could bear," Arthur said easily. "You were responsible for your behaviour. You were responsible for your image. You were responsible for carrying yourself like a proper gentleman, not some crazed lunatic chasing after skirts and loose women!"

Robert grit his teeth. "Have I not apologized for that error in judgment enough?" he managed. "I know it was a disappointment to you, but it was just harmless fun, Papa! I'm not that boy anymore. I'm a grown man who has studied our family history and the Estate and am ready to take up your title whenever the time comes. I'm your son, the son you always wanted me to be."

"Just because you're my son and have my blood does not mean I need to have any faith in you, and be clear that I do not. Your time will come thankfully after I've passed on. For now, when it comes to managing this Estate and assisting me in my the duties as the Earl of Grantham, I trust Jarvis and Murray more than I trust you."

Robert blinked.

"Now, that's settled. I'll see you at dinner," Arthur said as he left the library briskly.

Robert stood still, his hands clenched into fists as he watched his father leave. He slowly dropped to the settee, staring blankly across the room, taking deep breaths to quell the emotions that were threatening to erupt from within.

Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, November 1915

Matthew stared at the ceiling, the dull glow of the firelight creeping across. His mind was alive with the dialogue of their confrontation with Robert hours ago and he was resigned to not sleeping for a while longer. He hoped that the adrenaline rush of finally revealing their marriage would wear off quickly and he would then pass into pleasant slumber, but his blood was still coursing through his veins even now.

It was not excitement that kept his mind whirring though, it was concern and worry. As expected, Robert had not given them his blessing, or even acknowledged their story as being true. Matthew did not expect an embrace and a congratulatory pat on the back from the Earl, but the impasse was hardly a victory. When Robert offered no further words, Matthew advised him that he would be announcing his marriage to the rest of the family the next day. When Robert had barely acknowledged that further revelation, Matthew and Mary had bid him good night and left to go upstairs.

Mary had been silent as they walked up the staircase together. They had still been holding hands, and several of the servants had seen them, including Anna. But Matthew didn't mind that. Let them talk. Let the gossip run rampant across Yorkshire. What anyone said about them now did not matter.

What did matter was the pale complexion of Mary's face, as though the blood had left her. She dropped his hand and went quietly to her room, not saying anything. Matthew could only watch her go, whispering a 'good night' that he wasn't sure that she heard, and turn and go to his own bedroom after she disappeared around the corner to the Family Wing.

He knew he was not going to sweep her up and carry her away. They were treading dangerous ground, and it was not a time for celebration. But he did not want to be with Mary now simply to sate his constant desire for his wife. He wanted to comfort her, hold her, be with her and make her feel safe, all of the things that he was allowed to do as her husband. But he had to let her go for one more night, and all he could do was hope she was finding sleep more easily than he had.

Matthew sat up quickly as he heard soft footfalls outside his door. He swallowed, not daring to smile as Mary opened his door and slipped inside his room, shutting the door behind her. She seemed a ghost as she walked over to his bed, her blue robe falling to the floor as she slipped under the covers and came to him.

"Darling," he said tenderly, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against him. He fell back on to the pillows, stroking her back and massaging her arm as she buried her face in his neck. After several moments, she hooked her leg across his and pressed herself against him. He dared to kiss her forehead, then her hair, and finally smiled as her hand rested against his chest.

"We did it," she whispered.

"You did it," Matthew said. "You were brilliant, Mary."

"I don't feel brilliant," she huffed, her fingers caressing his bare skin. "I don't know how I'll face everyone else tomorrow."

"It will be easier," Matthew said lightly. "Mother will be there to help, and you know that your sisters will be elated."

"Sybil will be," Mary pondered. "Edith probably won't care either way."

"That's an improvement over your father," Matthew said.

"I'm scared, Matthew," Mary said quietly. "We don't have any cards left to play. Everything is out now. Our secret. My past. It's all been laid bare. If this doesn't work, then we have nothing else."

"We have each other, always," Matthew answered. "And I think that, with some time, Robert will see that he has no choice but to go along with us, at least for now. He can't hope to annul our marriage and force me to wed someone else. So long as he still wants to keep me away from War, then he'll have to accept that this is as good a solution as any."

"But in the future…" Mary began.

"In the future we will face whatever comes, together, as husband and wife," Matthew said firmly.

Mary sighed. She turned her head and breathed in his scent, kissing him lightly on the neck, then curling against him.

"I should feel happier," she frowned. "I should feel relieved that you won't be forced to enlist, and excited to declare our marriage to my family tomorrow, and aroused from how we faced Papa tonight. But I just…"

"Shh," Matthew said softly. "Go to sleep, Mary. There will be time for happiness later on."

"I should go back to my room," Mary said, not moving. "Bates could discover us in bed together, or Anna could find me not in my own bed in the morning. She already saw us holding hands. She suspects something and…"

"You're where you belong, lying with your husband," Matthew said, holding her closer. "Nothing and no one can hurt us anymore."

Matthew stared at the ceiling, the dull glow of the firelight creeping across. He waited patiently and finally smiled and closed his eyes when he felt and heard his wife fall asleep.

"Married?" Cora frowned.

"Yes, Mama, we're married," Mary nodded, rolling her eyes and showing everyone the rings on her finger once again.

"Since Manchester?" Violet repeated.

"December 20, 1911," Matthew declared, squeezing Mary's other hand at her side.

"It was a lovely ceremony at City Hall," Isobel smiled, recovering from her own shock at the announcement. She arrived at Downton Abbey expecting to have a pleasant breakfast with the family. They had been spending more time together with Robert's return to War imminent. She had not expected to walk into the middle of a crater created by the explosion of Matthew and Mary's reveal.

"Matthew's father and I were so very proud that day…of both of them," Isobel continued, unable to suppress her grin as Mary met her eyes and smiled back. "He told me many times how happy he was to have lived to see Mary become Matthew's wife."

Silence fell over the parlour as the family all continued to weigh Mary and Matthew's news. Sybil looked like she was about to burst. She smiled at Mary, then looked around the room to gauge what the reaction would be if she spoke up.

Edith had a curious smirk on her face, but remained quiet.

Cora looked over at Robert. He stood by the mantle, looking down at the floor, offering nothing.

"What does this mean for Matthew's future as Earl?" Cora said slowly, looking from Robert back to Mary and Matthew. "And Mary's role as well?"

"Mary and I will be Countess and Earl, someday," Matthew said clearly. "And we both sincerely hope that day is many years in the future."

"How is this possible?" Violet frowned, turning and addressing Robert. "Mary becoming Countess of Grantham was deemed to have been lost forever before she left for Manchester. Were you aware of this development?"

"They told me last night," Robert answered after realizing his mother would not allow him to remain silent. "Mary and Matthew can explain it all to you, and answer any other questions you may have," he said brusquely. He looked at Mary briefly, then turned and left the room.

Matthew frowned as he watched Robert depart.

"Oh, Papa," Mary said quietly, shaking her head.

"Leave him be," Violet said. "You can speak to him later."

Mary looked at her Granny and nodded slowly, taking some small solace in Violet Crawley's reassuring expression.

"Young man," Violet smiled, drawing Matthew's attention. "Why don't you and your lovely mother sit with me a while? Mary, dear, you can go into the sitting room with your Mama and your sisters. I am sure that you all have much to catch up on, and I want to speak to your husband and your mother-in-law and get better acquainted."

Matthew and Mary glanced at each other. Everyone moved to follow Violet's instructions, lest they feel the slap of the Dowager Countess' cane.

"Cousin Violet," Matthew began. "I know you must have questions, as well as some strong opinions on…"

Violet held up her hand to silence Matthew. She held up her tea cup and saucer to him and looked at him sternly.

Matthew frowned, then belatedly realized her silent request. He moved over to the table and picked up the tea pot, refilling her cup and pouring one for Isobel as well. Without being asked, Matthew spooned the preferred amount of sugar cubes and poured the milk for both Violet and his mother.

Violet smiled as she sipped her tea, then placed the cup and saucer down on the table.

"You met Mary when she volunteered at the hospital and was working under your mother's supervision," Violet stated.

"Actually, he met her before she started working under me," Isobel corrected. "It was her first day and my husband arranged for Mary to be moved away from a rather jealous and petty nursing coordinator."

"And you were honourable towards my granddaughter throughout your courtship?" Violet asked.

"Of course!" Matthew said indignantly. "How can you even ask that?"

"Quite easily," Violet chuckled. "It is precisely the sort of question that I would expect to be answered when faced with a man who up until a few moments ago I believed to be a bachelor and who has apparently been living secretly with his wife for the better part of two years now."

Matthew shrugged in acknowledgment.

"Tell me about her life in Manchester, your life," Violet continued. "Tell me how the two of you came to be married and how you came to Downton."

"That's entirely unfair!" Mary snarled, glaring at her Mama. "Matthew was a perfect gentleman the entire time we dated! I explained to him why I couldn't marry him and still he persisted completely undaunted."

"Of course he did! He had the perfect consort fall right into his lap! He could marry you and keep you sequestered away living with Lady Philomena and call upon you for his pleasure whenever it suited him!" Cora retorted.

"That isn't how it happened at all!" Mary fired back, waving her hand dismissively. "Matthew wanted to be open about us from the very beginning. It was my idea to keep everything a secret because of everything that happened before I went to Manchester! He wanted us to be married properly at Manchester Cathedral and to take out an announcement and all the rest of it! He owned a house that we were going to live in together! He set all of that aside because I asked him to!"

Cora laughed bitterly. "And when your noble Matthew discovered exactly who you were and who he truly was, he came running back here to claim the Earldom while conveniently omitting the detail that he was in fact married! Obviously he was keeping his options open. You saw how he was surrounded by women during the Season. Who knows what he got up to before he finally decided to reveal his happy marriage?"

"How dare you speak of my husband so horribly?!" Mary snarled. "You were going to throw me to Patrick when you knew how miserable I would have been! This family doesn't deserve Matthew, and I'm lucky to have him; beyond lucky!"

"Is he truly that good to you, Mary?" Sybil asked quietly.

Mary turned from Cora and looked at Sybil, her expression softening as she calmed herself. She smiled at her sister knowingly.

"It was him, wasn't it?" Sybil asked. "All those things that you mentioned in your letters? When you told me you knew what it was to be truly happy? It was because of Matthew, wasn't it?"

Mary grinned, nodding as the memories came forward, all the moments she kept hidden away allowed to be freely recalled and revelled in.

"You can't imagine what it was like," Mary said quietly, looking from Sybil to Edith. "Getting off that train, having Godfather treat me as though I was carrying the plague, everything that I knew about my life seemingly lost, never to come back again. Having to work wasn't a problem, I've done work before. It was not knowing who I was anymore, everything that I'd made of myself here was gone, and I didn't know if I would ever feel like…me…again. Matthew changed all of that. He made me feel that it was okay to be myself. He didn't ask me to be nice, or to flatter him, or to be friendly to his parents, or even to be interested in his job. He just loved me. He loved me for my thoughts, and my beliefs, and even my fears, and he made me want to be nice, and want to be kind, and want to get to know his parents. He was just what I needed when I needed it, and so much more."

"Oh, Mary," Sybil grinned, clapping her hands together. "And you would have been happy as a solicitor's wife?"

"I was already happy as a solicitor's wife," Mary nodded. "I would have lived the rest of my life with Matthew in Manchester. That was our plan. He came here for me. He didn't want to be Earl, neither did his father."

"Love and position in one handsome package. Who could ask for more?" Edith smiled.

Mary laughed and shook her head at her sister.

"And you believed her?" Violet asked carefully.

"Without hesitation," Matthew nodded. "I know you will have difficulty believing me, but even if the rumours about Mary were true, it would not have changed anything for me. I am grateful that they are not, for she has already suffered far more than she should have. But I didn't care whether she was pure on our wedding night or not."

Violet lifted her chin and looked at Matthew intently, weighing his words.

"When Mary and Matthew announced to us that they were engaged, Reginald and I were elated," Isobel said, looking at Violet. "We heard the rumours about Mary and assumed them to be true as we had not met her at the time and did not make the connection after she came to Manchester. It was only after they made their announcement that Mary explained what happened to her that fateful night. We were more than happy to accept her as our daughter, scandal and all. To know that such a horrible incident will not be a weight on their marriage is a blessing, but my late husband and I knew from the first moment that Matthew was besotted with Mary, and he would never abandon her, surely not over what other people might gossip about her."

Violet looked from Matthew to Isobel. She appraised both of them evenly before she turned back to Matthew.

"Your marriage will not save Mary's reputation," she said. "I am not entirely sure whether the passage of time would heal the deep wounds that James and Patrick inflicted."

"I don't care," Matthew said firmly. "Society can snicker and point all they like, but they cannot challenge the legitimacy of Mary being Countess of Grantham. We both know there are only a few people who can do that, and I am prepared to face all of them."

Violet laughed, glancing over at Isobel's stunned expression, then back to Matthew.

"Well you won't get any opposition from me," Violet huffed. "If you truly love Mary as much as you say, then I dare venture that you may become the first Earl to speak of his Countess in such glowing terms. There is the question of how you shall reveal your marriage to the world. Have you pondered that?"

"I expect a simple announcement in the newspaper of the family's choice would be sufficient," Matthew said cautiously.

"And what shall the announcement say?" Violet smirked. "Matthew Crawley, heir presumptive to the Earl of Grantham hereby is pleased to announce that he has been married to Lady Mary Crawley for the past four years?"

Matthew sighed in exasperation. "Not exactly that, no," he said.

"You've done a remarkable job of embracing your role as de facto Earl in Robert's absence. This is no different then your approach to managing the Estate. There is a proper way of doing this, and an efficient and effective way. I suggest that a newspaper announcement is not enough."

"You want a production," Isobel said.

Violet turned from Matthew to his mother and smiled. "It isn't a matter of what I want, dear Cousin Isobel. It's what Society demands."

"And I yelled at him to get out of my bedroom," Mary whispered, looking down at her hands. She fidgeted with her wedding band, turning it with her fingers as she stared at the turquoise and diamond of her engagement ring.

Cora, Sybil and Edith all looked at her in stunned silence.

"When Matthew told me that he loved me, I had to tell him; otherwise I would feel as though I had caught him with a lie. It turned out that he already heard about the story of me and Mr. Pamuk that James and Patrick spread through London. He just didn't know that it was about me specifically," Mary said quietly.

"And what was his reaction?" Cora asked.

Mary looked up at her mother defiantly.

"He didn't care," she said coldly. "I gave him every reason to throw me over, I put conditions upon him, insisted that we live apart, take every precaution to make it seem as though we barely knew each other, let alone were married. He accepted all of it."

"And he didn't demand that you…" Edith asked.

"Never," Mary replied. "Not once during our courtship, even though the world thought I was already ruined before marriage. On our wedding night he was so…" Mary hesitated, looking at Sybil, then continuing. "So generous. He didn't require anything of me. He was patient and kind. It was so different from what I thought it would be. And not just that, but our conversations and taking walks together, having meals, being with Matthew, being with the man I love, the man who loves me, everything is just…the most terrific fun."

Sybil and Edith laughed, then covered their mouths with their hands as Mary blushed.

"I don't know what to say," Cora shook her head. "When you left, I prayed that you would find some small amount of happiness. I didn't know where, or how, or if I would ever even hear from you again, but I hoped that someway you would be taken care of."

"It's Matthew, Mama," Mary said. "He's all I need."

"This appears to be the answer to your prayers, Mama," Edith said. "Not only has Mary found a husband, but she's unknowingly married the next Earl of Grantham."

"And it's so romantic at the same time!" Sybil exclaimed. "They were already married before we knew Matthew was Papa's heir. It's as though they were meant to find each other!"

"Sybil," Cora frowned.

Mary laughed, shaking her head. She could not help but feel as giddy as Sybil.

Cora looked back at Mary and sighed.

After a moment, she smiled at her eldest daughter.

Downton Village Church, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, November 1915

"Ah! Lady Mary!" Reverend Travis smiled, nodding as Mary came walking up the aisle.

"Reverend Travis," Mary smiled, then gestured to her companion. "You know my cousin, Matthew, of course."

"Yes, of course. Matthew, how are you?" Reverend Travis asked.

"Very well, thank you," Matthew smiled. "And you?"

"Well, thank you," Reverend Travis nodded. "It's been a few weeks since I've had to preside over a poor fellow's funeral service. Sadly more and more of our young men aren't being sent home for a proper burial, but I'm trying to enjoy the brief respite at the moment. The mood of the villagers seems to rise and fall so quickly in these unfortunate times. Now, what can I do for you?"

"Matthew and I were wondering whether the Church is available on the morning of December 20," Mary asked.

"December 20, December 20," Reverend Travis wondered aloud. He walked over to a desk and opened a large book. "That's a Monday. There's nothing planned for the morning, Lady Mary."

"Good," Matthew smiled. "We were hoping that we could reserve the Church for a wedding ceremony."

"A wedding ceremony!" Reverend Travis exclaimed. "I haven't done one of those in some time! And who is the lucky couple?"

"We are," Matthew smiled.

"The two of you?" Reverend said in surprise. "How lovely! I suppose I am looking at the future Earl and Countess of Grantham, then!"

"God willing," Mary smiled, looking at Matthew.

Downton Abbey, Yorkshire England, November 1915

"You went to see Reverend Travis?" Robert asked as Mary came into the sitting room.

"Yes," Mary nodded, approaching him, then stopping a slight distance away.

"And did you explain the full details of what you are doing and why?" Robert asked, not looking at her.

"No," Mary said evenly. "We reserved the Church for December 20, and he was quite happy that a wedding was taking place after so long without some happy news in the Village."

Robert turned and faced her. He looked at her for a moment, then looked out the window.

"Yes, I suppose a wedding does tend to lift people's spirits," Robert said.

"Do you ever get tired of it?" Mary asked, raising her eyebrow at him. "Of trying to live up to this legacy that you've created in your mind of how the Earl of Grantham should behave and so on?"

Robert frowned and looked back at her. "Being the Earl of Grantham is an honour and a privilege. It isn't something to be taken casually, and carries responsibilities that cannot be ignored."

"And what responsibilities are those?" Mary asked lightly, walking away and sitting down on the sofa. She looked up at her Papa expectantly.

"Respect for our family and our history, for one," Robert said.

"Matthew has done everything you've asked of him since he's arrived," Mary answered. "He knows the family history better than any of us do, I dare say."

Robert pursed his lips and paused for a moment.

"Preservation and growth of the Estate for future generations," Robert said crisply.

"Downton has never been more profitable, thanks to Matthew's changes," Mary stated. "While homes and families around us have sadly fallen, Murray would confirm that our finances are far better than they were during James and Patrick's stewardship."

Robert narrowed his eyes. He placed his hands behind his back and took several steps towards her.

"Following all duties faithfully, including the terms of the entail," Robert said.

"Matthew only attacked the entail in Parliament because he expected you wouldn't believe us when we told you the truth that by marrying me he isn't in breach of the entail," Mary rolled her eyes. "And he told me that you weren't entirely aghast at the idea when you found out."

Robert frowned, then looked away.

"It's just me, isn't it?" Mary said coldly. "You love Matthew. You have your son now. He's exceeded all of your expectations, except his choice of a wife."

"Everything isn't always about you, Mary," Robert scoffed. "But you have a talent for making things about you, don't you?"

"You truly believe that I'll ruin him, don't you?" Mary countered. "Your worst fears have been realized. Your precious heir was seduced by your horrid eldest daughter before you had a chance to protect him from me, and it pains you to see us together."

"I know that he loves you," Robert said quietly, turning away from her. Mary opened her mouth in shock.

"It's obvious," Robert said. "I'm surprised that he was able to hide it for so long. I saw it last night when you told me you were married, and I saw it this morning when you made your announcement to the family. He adores you. You have him bewitched and bent to your will."

"Is it so terrible a fate that Matthew loves me, Papa?" Mary shook her head. "You know that he's a far better man than Patrick ever was. You know that Matthew will give me a life, that he'll make me happier than I ever would have been had I never met him. He already has. Why can't you just accept it? Do you truly want me to live a life of misery?"

Robert turned and looked at her.

"There was a time," he said softly. "That I wanted a good man for you, a strong man, a brave man. I knew all along that Patrick wasn't any of those things. But he still would have given you a life, a life here at Downton, which is what I wanted for you, before…everything that happened. Now I don't know who you are, Mary. You've been gone, and gotten married you say. You've lied…to me, to your family, carried on this charade. It's all so much to take in. I don't know how I feel about you one day being Countess of Grantham. Perhaps in time I could get used to the idea if what you say about what took place years ago is true. But I don't know if I can be happy for you. Too much may have taken place for that now."

"I won't beg for your blessing, Papa," Mary said, rising from the sofa. "You're right. A great deal has changed. I've found that man that you wanted for me. I've found him, and I'm never letting him go. After everything that's happened, everything you've done, I can't be bothered to care about whether you're happy for me or not."

Mary left the room, not looking back.

"I think that you'll have to switch rooms. You're no longer a bachelor, you know," Mary smiled, kissing Matthew's chest.

"I'll happily share your room, darling," he said, stroking her back. "And your bed."

"So naughty, Matthew," Mary smirked, reaching under the blankets and taking hold of him. "Perhaps we should keep this room for a while longer. It does afford us more privacy."

Matthew groaned as her fingers closed around him. "Anything you wish, Mary," he gasped.

"I'm surprised you can go again so soon," Mary said, arching her eyebrow at him.

"I probably can't," Matthew grunted, wiping his hair away from his forehead. "You were rather energetic the first time."

"And why not?" Mary asked lightly. "I get to make love to my husband without any secrecy or need to sneak around. I was almost hoping that someone would notice me coming to your room tonight."

"Well if you're going to have Anna attend to you here, you'll need to have your vanity moved over," Matthew laughed.

Mary leaned up and kissed him, swiping her tongue across his lightly.

"I've been meaning to tell you," she smiled. "After the ceremony, I want to go on a trip."

"A honeymoon?" Matthew smirked. "That's not entirely appropriate."

"I think it makes perfect sense. We should go away after our wedding, or renewal of our vows or whatever you wish to call it," Mary said.

"And where shall we go?" Matthew smiled.

"Back to Manchester," Mary said softly.

Matthew's eyes widened. "Truly?"

"I want to go back to the Midland with you," Mary nodded. "And it may be a good idea for your mother to go back as well, to see her house. But I think all three of us should go back and visit your father."

Matthew leaned forward and kissed her.

"That's brilliant, darling. Thank you," he said.

"Do you think he's happy for us, wherever he is?" Mary asked quietly. "Do you think he's proud?"

"I know," Matthew smiled. "That he is laughing with glee at what we've done, and he'll be very pleased to hear all about it. You're right. We should go and visit and bring fresh flowers."

"Mmm," Mary smiled, settling down against his chest again.

"However," Matthew noted, reaching an arm over to the nightstand and retrieving an unopened condom. "I do hope he isn't watching us at this precise moment, Mrs. Crawley."

Mary laughed as he turned her onto her back and kissed her soundly.