Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, November 1915
"But I don't understand," Sybil complained. "Isn't there a limit on how often he can be called up? How can they keep summoning him over and over?"
"His Majesty may do whatever he wishes," Cora explained, nodding sadly to her youngest daughter. "And it's your Papa's duty to do what he's told."
Mary sipped her tea and glanced around the sitting room. It was strange how different Downton Abbey seemed to her now, even though it was still the same house she always knew. Besides electric lights and the telephone, nothing else had changed from the time she was a young girl. The house seemed to have stood still from the moment she left for Manchester to her return years later. If she was nostalgic, she would almost believe everything had remained as it was waiting for her to come back.
She idly flicked her thumb over her wedding band as Edith joined in the conversation. She still lit up a little in the morning when Anna presented her betrothal ring and wedding band to put on. Mary even caught her lady's maid smile as she retrieved them from her jewellery box. After announcing their news to the family, word of Mary and Matthew's marriage had spread quickly downstairs. Papa likely told Carson, who in turn told Mrs. Hughes, who then relayed the news to O'Brien and Anna and the rest of the servants. When Anna came up to help Mary change for dinner later that day, she was dutifully quiet about it, even ignoring Mary's rings until finally Mary confirmed the rumours with a nod and a smile. The two had then gossiped and laughed for ten minutes before composing themselves again.
"He won't have to go back to Turkey again, will he?" Edith asked.
"Your Granny has made arrangements through Lord Flintshire to have Papa reassigned," Cora shook her head. "We're hoping that he'll be allowed to stay in London for the time being, but anywhere is better than what he had to endure at Gallipoli, I would hope."
Mary sipped her tea again. It was funny how one viewed matters with the benefit of experience. As a teenager, she would have nodded easily at her Papa receiving special treatment from the Army. Why should an Earl need to place himself in harm's way, she would scoff. As Matthew's wife in Manchester she probably would have objected to such patronage, thinking that all soldiers should be treated equally, regardless of background and title. Now, as a married woman living back at Downton Abbey with her family, she simply wanted her Papa to be safe, whatever that meant. They were still at odds, and their relationship was more on the irreparable side than anywhere near a reconciliation, but she did not want to see him in danger, and if the family's connections could be called upon to protect him, then so be it. What was fair and just no longer held much weight with Mary anymore. The world wasn't fair. It was simply what it was.
"Don't you think so, Mary?" Sybil asked.
Mary blinked and looked over at her sister.
"I don't know, darling," Mary shrugged. "Whether Papa is close by or not, the issue of him attending my wedding was never a question of proximity."
"He'll be there if he can," Cora frowned. "You're still an Earl's daughter, and the Earl of Grantham should be at your wedding."
"Well then it truly will be the happiest day of my life, won't it?" Mary said with a false smile. Everyone in the room knew just how genuine her statement was.
"I don't see how you or Matthew can expect him to be so accepting of your news, or that it would make up for all that's happened," Cora sighed. "Marrying you off was never a solution to everything, Mary."
"Strange, I always thought it was the be all and end all of my entire existence," Mary said with mock surprise. "Are you saying that marrying the next Earl of Grantham was not all that was expected of me, Mama?"
"Mary," Cora shook her head in exasperation.
They all turned as they heard Carson's heavy footsteps come into the room.
"His Lordship is departing imminently, Your Ladyship," the butler announced.
"Thank you, Carson," Cora nodded. She turned back to Mary. "We'll all go out and see him off and give him our very best wishes."
"Of course we will," Mary said, rising from her chair. "It's what's expected of us, isn't it?"
Edith and Sybil shared a glance and Cora looked straight ahead as they left the room ahead of Mary.
After spending several minutes organizing themselves, putting on coats and ensuring that the Dowager Countess and Isobel had arrived, the family and staff gathered outside the house once again. It was such a frequent event, wishing guests well once they departed, and more recently seeing male servants and Robert off to War. Mary took her usual place next to Edith and Sybil. She stared at the ground, her hands linked behind her, waiting for her Papa to come outside. She heard the crunch of gravel as someone came to stand beside her. Expecting it to be her Mama, she blinked as she saw a rather large pair of shoes out of the corner of her eye.
She raised her head and turned slightly, swallowing as Matthew stood tall next to her. He spoke quietly to Isobel, his hands at his sides, a respectable distance between him and Mary. Looking upon them, there was no indication to specifically declare that they were husband and wife. Matthew could have been standing there simply as the heir to the Earldom, taking his place next to the Crawley sisters. But Mary could not help but look back down, smiling slightly as she drew her hands in front of her, the diamond of her betrothal ring glinting in the sunlight. They were standing together, married, and everyone now knew it.
Robert came out with Carson. He began with the servants, nodding to Mrs. Hughes and smiling politely to O'Brien, sharing a word with Anna and shaking Bates' hand. He had a calm manner about him, a presence and invited respect. He was a politician, able to speak pleasantly with his staff despite the distance between them in rank. When he shared the last quiet word with Carson, the servants were all standing at attention, and Mary knew they were hoping the best for him, that some would even pray for his well being.
"Be sure to give Shrimpy my best," Violet said as Robert approached her first.
"Of course," Robert answered. "It will be good to see him again before learning of my new assignment."
"Be safe," Cora implored him next.
"I will try my best," Robert answered as he kissed her gently on the cheek.
"I've never asked for anything else," Cora said gently.
"God speed, Robert," Matthew said, shaking the Earl's hand.
"Thank you, Matthew. Keep everyone's spirits up around here," Robert nodded.
The Earl patted his heir on the shoulder and Mary raised her head to look at him directly. Despite everything that had been revealed these last weeks, there was still an ease in the way her husband and father were with each other. There was a trust there which still confounded her. Was it simply because Matthew was a man? Was it due to her husband's calm demeanour and pleasant nature? She knew she should be glad for it, but part of her found it maddening.
"Edith, Sybil, Mary," Robert said as he turned towards his daughters. "God bless all of you."
"We will pray for you every day Papa," Sybil said quietly.
"Every day," Edith repeated.
"Good luck, Papa," Mary nodded.
Robert turned quickly and walked over to the waiting motor. Branson closed the door behind him and soon the car was off down the drive. Cora, Violet and Isobel led the way back into the house. Mary walked with Matthew into the library, laughing as she told him a story about some rather woeful floral arrangements she had seen with her sisters while planning decorations for their wedding reception.
Crawley House, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, November 1915
"Did Robert reach London safely?" Isobel asked as Molesley poured their tea.
"He did," Matthew nodded. "He spoke with Cousin Cora last night. He's due to meet with Lord Flintshire later today and find out where he's being assigned."
"Won't he follow his unit to the next battlefield?" Isobel asked.
"There aren't many…left…of his unit after Gallipoli," Mary said, taking the offered cup from the valet. "Granny says it would be a simple thing to have them reassigned to another battalion if Papa were to be given an administrative position."
"Will he accept that?" Isobel frowned, stirring her tea.
"I'm not sure," Matthew sighed. "He certainly doesn't have the same fervour for battle as he did in the beginning. As for what would be best politically, I don't think that's much of a concern now that most of his peers are either dead or still in London themselves."
Mary sipped her tea slowly. She wasn't particularly interested in this conversation. She wanted to come visit Isobel to escape the talk of War that seemed to inject itself into everything that happened at Downton.
"Well, on to sunnier topics," Isobel smiled. "How goes the wedding planning?"
"Mama has remained in the background," Mary smiled. "Most of the details are already taken care of. It will be a small ceremony at the Church. Enough to say that we did it, but not so much that I'll be displeased with any of the guests who show up. The reception on the other hand is bound to be full of gawkers who want to see for themselves how I've bewitched Matthew into marrying me, so there will be a number of unwelcome people there, I'm afraid."
"Cousin Violet has excluded us from the reception planning," Matthew smirked.
"She's seen fit to involve me," Isobel nodded. "But I told her that none of my relations need attend. I'd much rather host them in Manchester."
"I'm so looking forward to that," Mary nodded. "I haven't met any of them."
"Well, be mindful, darling," Matthew smiled. "They're all very much like us, so you won't be dazzled."
"I'll be the judge of just how much you and your family dazzle me, thank you," Mary teased.
"Truly, I can't believe we're going back in mere weeks," Isobel smiled. "And in triumph, no less."
"I can't wait," Mary said, sipping her tea.
Matthew smiled at her, then took up his own cup. Isobel looked at them, a warm feeling filling her as she watched her son and daughter-in-law, content and happy, sitting in her home with no secrets, no need to conceal themselves any longer, married in every sense.
Constitutional Club, London, England, November 1915
Robert felt at ease for the first time in years as he walked through the halls of his club. He walked proudly through the halls in his uniform. In this location with his peers of the realm, everyone operated in a similar way of thinking. Traditions were honoured, and he was respected for both his title and his military rank. He did not need to justify anything here, or explain himself. He was granted privilege and fealty for who he was without question.
He came into the dining hall and nodded to several other members who saluted and waved to him. He was shown to his table and waited, perusing the menu for the day's meals. He looked up as Algernon Percy, Earl of Northumberland cleared his throat.
"Lord Grantham," Percy said.
"Percy," Robert nodded, rising and shaking the man's hand. "I'm meeting Lord Flintshire imminently. Would you care to join us?"
"No, no, thank you," Percy shook his head, raising his hands in front of him. "I just wanted to come by and tell you how pleased I am to see you well."
"Thank you," Robert nodded. Their membership had sadly been thinned since the War and everyone knew what had happened over in Turkey by now.
"I also wanted to pass on my regrets for your family that your recent bill did not pass through Parliament. I was rather impressed with your heir. I only wish my own son had as much gumption and command of the language."
Robert looked into the man's seemingly genuine candour and returned his smile. The subject of the private bill had been rather taboo amongst his other relations.
"Indeed," Robert said carefully. "Matthew is a confident young man."
"You're lucky to have him," Percy said. "I dare say many of us envy you that your House is in such good hands."
Robert nodded.
Percy took his leave respectfully and left. Robert looked after him curiously as Lord Flintshire came into the room. Robert rose and greeted his cousin, and once they were seated, drinks were served immediately.
"Shirmpy," Robert nodded, sipping his scotch. "Mama wanted me to thank you profusely for my deliverance."
"Don't thank me yet," Hugh MacClare, Earl of Newtonmore scoffed at his cousin. "I may be able to save you from the Turks and the Huns, but I can't do anything about the sharks here in London that you'll be swimming amongst."
Robert smiled in acknowledgment. When he was first told that his mother had called in a favour to his cousin's husband, he was irate. He thought it showed cowardice and that some would see him as taking the easy way out to avoid going back to the Front. He had warmed to the idea the more he thought about it. The aristocracy had been decimated in the War so far, losing many lords and their heirs from the officers killed in battle. What good was it to be a martyr under these circumstances? Hardly anyone would be left to remember it.
"How is James?" Robert asked.
"Alive," Hugh retorted at the mention of his son and heir. "He'll be home for the holidays, Thank God. Susan was bothering me day and night to arrange for his leave. She even had the girls write to me, imploring me to bring their older brother home. The nerve…she knows I have soft spot for Rose, and my defences aren't much better where Annabelle is concerned."
Robert chuckled. "Has Susan made arrangements for Annabelle?"
"Next year," Hugh nodded as the salad course was served. "We'll have the wedding at Duneagle in the Spring. I'm relieved, to be honest. Her fiancé is a good man, and he deserves to be spared."
Robert swallowed an asparagus spear before proceeding. "You of all people realize that marriage will likely not save him for long, barring a huge turn in our fortunes?"
"Of course," Hugh nodded. "But the longer he's not at the Front, the more time I have to arrange a post for him at home. I would have had yours ready earlier, but the urgency wasn't there, or so we thought."
"Don't apologize, please," Robert held up his hand. "My family and I are grateful to you. I'm also pleased that my men have been taken care of."
"Many of them aren't fit to go back as of yet," Hugh nodded grimly. "But I'm keeping them away from the Pals Battalions. That's no place for experienced soldiers. Other than that, my reach only goes so far, Robert."
"It goes far enough, Shrimpy," Robert said earnestly.
"Speaking of weddings, I received Cora's invitation for Mary's next month. I must say it came as a surprise," Hugh said lightly.
"Truer words were never spoken," Robert huffed.
"I suppose you've been away for so long that it must have come as a shock," Hugh said. "Susan will be sending our regrets, sadly. Though I expect I shall see the happy couple at some point in the New Year."
"You will. I'll see to it," Robert nodded. "After all, they owe you a great deal, even though they don't know it as of yet."
Robert and Shrimpy raised their glasses to each other in understanding.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, December 1915
"You'd ask, wouldn't you? If there was anything that you wanted me to tell you. I mean, I'm sure you know," Cora stammered, looking at Mary.
Mary rolled her eyes, gazing at her reflection in the vanity mirror as Anna finished with her hair.
"More than you did. Remember, I've already had my wedding night, and many nights since," Mary said, arching her eyebrow.
Anna blushed.
Sybil and Edith laughed together.
Cora frowned at them.
"Relax, Mama. There isn't anything that I need to hear now. Today is just for show, after all. I've been Matthew's wife for years already, and I'm looking forward to showing him off."
Cora shook her head in amusement.
Anna backed away and went to the closet to fetch Mary's wedding dress.
Mary looked down at her hands and slowly removed her betrothal ring and wedding band. She handed them over to Sybil.
"Give these to Matthew when you see him," Mary instructed. "We'll have to pretend that he's giving me my ring for the first time."
"It is such an exotic betrothal ring, so different and unique," Sybil said wistfully as she looked at it before putting it in the velvet box.
"Matthew chose it," Mary said as she removed the ring from her finger. "Turquoise stones for my birthstone that represent the time we knew each other in Manchester before we married and a single diamond for our commitment to each other."
Edith smiled at the explanation. "Cousin Matthew is rather thorough, isn't he?"
"He has a very good memory," Mary nodded. "I didn't even realize he knew my birthstone. I never told him what it was. He figured it out on his own."
"I suppose we'll all have to get used to that idea, not only that you're married to Cousin Matthew, but that you've both been through so much together," Cora nodded.
Mary turned in her seat and looked at her Mama curiously.
"We have been, yes," she said softly. "I never knew it was possible to feel so loved by another person. To this day I still wonder what possesses him to love me so much, but I never doubt that he does."
Cora smiled genuinely.
"Careful Mary," Sybil smiled. "You'll make us think you've gone and turned sentimental."
Anna smiled as she placed Mary's wedding dress on the bed.
Mary huffed at her sisters. "I won't shock you any further. Go on ahead. I'll see you all at the Church."
There was a knock at the door and Mary frowned in surprise. Cora went over and opened it.
"Granny! I thought you'd have gone directly to the Church," Mary said, rising from her seat.
"I would have, but then I would not have had the privilege of giving you this to wear," Violet smiled, handing a black velvet box to Cora.
Cora smiled and nodded. She turned to Mary and opened it.
Mary gasped.
Sybil and Edith's mouths dropped open in surprise.
"Is that?" Mary whispered, her eyes wide.
"The barrette and headband of the Countess of Grantham," Cora nodded. "I suppose you should be wearing a proper tiara given that you're already married, but we'll give that to you for the reception to keep up appearances."
Mary reached out a hand and touched the diamonds that covered the hair pieces. She had gazed at these jewels for hours as a child, and as she grew older, she bragged to her sisters and friends of how she would wear them on her wedding day. The traditional jewellery was of more interest to her than Patrick was. She had forgotten about them when she left for Manchester, resigning herself to never seeing them again.
"I suppose that it wouldn't look the same if the heir's bride didn't wear these," Mary said cautiously.
"They're yours," Violet declared. "Regardless of you being Matthew's wife, these belong to you, and now we can finally bestow them."
"Thank you," Mary said quietly.
"You should thank Cora. It was her idea," Violet said nonchalantly.
Mary looked at her mother in surprise.
"Just because I wasn't at your first wedding doesn't mean that I haven't been looking forward to this," Cora said.
Mary held her gaze for several moments, then nodded silently.
Sybil came over and took Mary's hands as Cora passed the velvet box to Anna.
"Matthew won't believe the grandeur of his wife," Sybil said mischievously.
"So very different from our first wedding," Mary agreed. "I wore a simple dress then and only the jewellery that his father had given me for my birthday. But it was still a wonderful day."
Violet, Cora, Edith and Sybil all left after wishing Mary good luck. Mary sat back down at her vanity as Anna approached to put the diamond barrette and headband in her hair.
"I'm so pleased for you, Milady," Anna said quietly as she worked. "Today has finally arrived."
"Thank you, Anna," Mary smiled.
Mary came down the stairs, with Anna trailing behind her to ensure her train did not crumple or bunch. The lady's maid carried several long stems of white calla lilies, and watched Mary's every step. Mary turned at the landing halfway down the stairs and turned towards the Great Hall. She imagined this moment so many times in her youth. Even knowing it was Patrick she was going to marry, she still looked forward to joining the family history, being another moment that the Great Hall had witnessed. As she looked around the large room, the room that would one day be hers and Matthew's when he inherited, she was filled with calm and delight. It was as though they had played a trick on the world and gotten away with it.
She smiled as she looked down and saw Carson standing there, gazing up at her in wonder. It was not often that the stoic butler showed any emotion at all, but she was happy that she brought this reaction out of him, as though their special bond was as strong as ever.
"Well, will I do, Carson?" she asked playfully.
"Very well indeed, my Lady," Carson replied.
Mary's eyes widened as her father stepped into the Great Hall, dressed in his full tuxedo and tails. Carson nodded and turned for the door, helping Mrs. Hughes usher the flower girls to the waiting cars.
"Papa," Mary said quietly as she descended the stairs and reached him. "I thought you would have gone ahead to the Church already."
"If it pleases you, I would much rather prefer to ride with the beautiful bride," Robert said slowly. "I…it's a father's privilege to give away his daughter on her wedding day, and it would be my honour to do so, if you would permit it."
Mary's eyes narrowed as she looked at his expectant expression. She could not decipher if he was being honest or if this was merely a ploy to make himself look magnanimous to her and appear fatherly to the guests.
"I agree that you are the one to do it, rather than Carson," Mary said carefully. "Let's be off then, lest we be late."
Robert turned and offered her his arm. Mary swallowed, stunned at the gesture. She slowly placed her arm in his and they walked out together.
Downton Village Church, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, December 1915
Matthew stood quietly before the altar, looking up at the ceiling. The past few moments had been a blur, and he took deep breaths to calm himself as he waited for Mary to arrive. Last night had been the first night they had not slept together in a month, Mary insisting on following tradition despite his many protestations that they were already married and so it was not bad luck for him to see her. Waking up without her had felt strange, and he'd glanced up several times looking for her as he went downstairs for Branson to drive him to the Church first. He was shocked by the crowds of villagers gathered on the street, waving flags and waiting expectantly for Mary's car to arrive. It wasn't particularly cold for December, and it wasn't snowing, but it still struck Matthew as odd that complete strangers cared so much about his wedding.
He smirked as he continued to glance above, hearing his father's playful tease in his mind.
'They aren't standing outside waiting for you, Matthew'
Matthew lowered his eyes and looked at the altar as he heard cheers and calls from outside. His heart was beating faster, which he thought was rather ridiculous. He and Mary were already married. This was merely a performance for the sake of Society and so that Cousin Violet and Cousin Cora would have an excuse to host a party and present Mary and Matthew as a proper couple. Matthew was playing a role more than anything else. There was no need to be nervous. He already knew how this ceremony was going to end.
The harpist and violins began playing and Matthew heard the shuffle of the crowd as they rose from their pews. He could feel a slight draft behind him from the door opening. He knew Mary had arrived without even looking back. He smiled. He could finally look upon her and share a playful glance at how absurd this entire exercise was.
Matthew turned his head and his lips parted as he gasped. Mary was walking up the aisle on Robert's arm, which in itself was a surprise, but Matthew had no time to even think about the Earl of Grantham.
Mary's translucent veil covered her face, but he could clearly make out her grin. Her eyes caught his, and as she approached, he almost forgot to breathe. In Manchester, he thought she looked gorgeous on their wedding day, even though she wore a normal dress and had taken care of her own coiffure. It was the fact that she was finally his that made her even more beautiful. Today though, she shimmered. Matthew knew very little about wedding fashion, and even less about jewellery, but everything about Mary was stunning, and he found that knowing she was already his wife, that they were finally able to have the ceremony that she deserved made her all the more breathtaking.
Mary released Robert's arm and stood beside Matthew, both of them facing forward as Reverend Travis called for attention.
"You allowed Robert to walk you down the aisle after all," Matthew whispered. "To be honest, I wasn't sure that you would."
"I'm glad to hear it, husband," Mary replied back, not looking at him. "I should hate to be predictable."
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, December 1915
"Once more," Mary said, smiling at him.
"We spent more and more time together since I arrived, and I learned how important it was to have someone support me who was familiar with the Estate and could guide me through dealing with Society," Matthew repeated. "With War going on and Robert away, I realized how important it was to move forward when I had the chance, and so I proposed and you graciously said yes."
"Very good," Mary nodded. "And?"
Matthew smirked as they stood together outside the closed doors of the salon. Everyone was already inside enjoying the reception, waiting for their entrance.
"And, certainly I was swayed by having made love to you numerous times over the past four years. It left me with no doubt that we would get along in the bedroom as well as in public," Matthew said wickedly.
"Matthew!" Mary gasped, blushing fiercely. "That is completely vulgar and inappropriate!"
"But is it untrue, wife?" Matthew leered, stepping towards her.
"No," Mary whispered, arching her eyebrow at him teasingly. "Definitely not. You could say we get along far better in private than we do around others."
"Why don't we go upstairs and see how well we still get on?" Matthew said, his hands coming across her waist.
"Matthew, they expect us in the salon shortly," Mary said, raising her chin and deliberately turning her face to show him her neck.
"Didn't you know, darling? I'm the heir presumptive to the Earl of Grantham," Matthew said, leaning forward. "All of Society can wait for me."
She pushed him back as the door opened slightly and Sybil came out.
"Mary, Matthew!" she smiled as she came up to them. "We're ready now! Carson will announce you!"
"Sybil," Matthew smiled. "Have you been drinking?"
"Just champagne!" Sybil said indignantly, blushing slightly. "It's in your honour, Cousin Matthew, in celebration of this wonderful occasion."
Sybil kissed Mary on the cheek, then turned and skipped back into the salon.
"When does our train leave?" Mary said. "I don't want to be here to be blamed when Sybil needs to be carried upstairs."
"She won't get that out of control, surely?" Matthew asked with concern. "She's simply enjoying herself."
"Perhaps she's drowning her sorrow," Mary mused, smiling at Matthew. "Having lost her crush must be devastating for her."
"Don't joke about it," Matthew rolled his eyes. "You make it sound as though I preyed upon her innocence, and that's entirely distasteful."
"Oh, I don't know," Mary smiled. "Now that I'm openly your wife, perhaps I shall need to be mindful of you looking to fill my former position of consort with someone else."
"Mary!" Matthew growled. "I would never do that! Not only would I not take a consort or a lover, but I surely would never even think of your sister in that fashion!"
"But isn't that what you middle class scoundrels enjoy bragging about amongst yourselves?" Mary smirked. "All of your conquests and the women you've played with?"
Matthew swallowed. "Keep up this charade and I will have no choice but to put you in your place when we arrive at the Midland this evening," he warned.
"You can always try, I suppose," Mary said airily. "We've slept at that hotel so often that I expect it may seem rather boring tonight, unless you are able to make it seem different, somehow."
Matthew's lips curled in a snarl before he regained his composure. "Very well, Lady Mary. If it's a scoundrel that you want in your bed this evening, then a scoundrel you shall get."
Mary shivered at his words, then turned away as Carson opened the double doors to the salon.
"Presenting Mr. Matthew Crawley, heir presumptive to the Earl of Grantham, and his wife, Lady Mary Crawley," the butler announced in a booming baritone.
Applause rang out as Mary took Matthew's arm and walked into their wedding reception.
Royal Suite, Midland Hotel, Manchester, England, December 1915
"Good evening, sir," the desk clerk nodded as Matthew approached the counter.
"Good evening. Matthew Crawley and Lady Mary Crawley," Matthew said.
Mary smiled at his side at the mention of their names. They always arrived separately to the hotels they met up in, checking in under different names and meeting in the room. It was such a small thing, but when the car delivered them to the hotel from the train station, they had walked into the hotel together, hand-in-hand. The polite nods and bows they received from the hotel staff felt different as well. They were being recognized as a couple, and Mary delighted in it.
"The Royal Suite," the clerk smiled, handing the key to Matthew. "Welcome back, Mr. Crawley. And welcome, Lady Mary. Congratulations to both of you."
"Thank you," Matthew nodded. He turned and escorted Mary across the lobby to the lift.
"You didn't tell them we're here for our honeymoon, did you?" Mary asked.
"Of course I did," Matthew smiled at her. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Well it isn't truly our honeymoon. It's actually our four year wedding anniversary," Mary smiled.
"And in either case, I fully intend to act as though we are on honeymoon," Matthew whispered, looking at her intently as they entered the lift.
Mary laughed when Matthew scooped her up outside the door and carried her over the threshold. She kissed him as he spun them around and placed her back down on the floor inside the familiar suite. Fresh flowers were placed in the room, and a congratulatory note was on the table next to a bottle of Bollinger chilled in an ice bucket.
"What do you think? Does it look the same as it always did?" Matthew asked.
Mary looked around the room and smiled. "Yes, but for some reason this evening feels even more special than the others," she said.
Before they could say anything further, the bellman knocked at the door with their luggage. Mary went to freshen up as Matthew directed the bellman to place their suitcases in the bedroom and closet of the suite. When Mary emerged from the bathroom, Matthew had organized some of his clothes. She kissed him lightly and went about unpacking some of her things as he went out into the living room.
Eventually Mary emerged from the bedroom. She went to the window and looked out on to the Manchester evening. She smiled happily as Matthew came up behind her and wrapped her in his embrace.
"You could have brought Anna, you know," Matthew said, kissing her neck. "We're here for a week and you shouldn't have to fend for yourself."
"I recall you filled in admirably as my maid whenever we stayed here in the past," Mary smiled, shifting her hips back against him. "Though for some reason you're more efficient at removing clothes than you are doing them up."
"Peculiar, isn't it?" Matthew laughed against her skin.
"We're here, Matthew," Mary whispered, looking down at St. Peter's Square far below them. "In Manchester, married, and everyone knows it."
"It only took four years," Matthew grinned, turning her face towards him and kissing her softly.
She kissed him back, her hand coming up and framing his face as she pulled him closer. His arms curled around her, holding her back against his chest as his tongue caressed hers.
"I'm very pleased that you changed out of your wedding dress for the trip," Matthew breathed between kisses, his hand moving up and cupping her breast over the layers of clothing of her travelling suit.
"Why is that?" Mary exhaled as she kissed him back.
"Because, darling," Matthew said, drawing back slightly so she could see his lit eyes. "It would be such a shame to have to tear your wedding dress."
Mary yelped as he picked her up and carried her deliberately to their bed, kissing her firmly and ardently, the force of his mouth and hands becoming insistent.
"Mmm, are you ready to teach me a lesson, husband?" Mary teased, pushing his jacket off and tugging at his tie.
"Even if it takes all night," Matthew said, kissing her neck as his fingers made quick work of the buttons of her blouse.
They were soon naked beneath the bedcovers, their clothes thrown to the floor. Mary moaned as he licked her breast, his hands reaching down her arms and finding hers. They linked their fingers together, the sight of her rings and their joined hands causing a tremor to flare deliciously through her body.
"Tell me, Mary," Matthew said fiercely against her ear as he ground his hips against hers.
"Please, Matthew," she answered, clutching his back and readying herself.
He laughed richly. "God, I love you. You are so beautiful."
She gasped as he kissed her shoulder and bit into her skin. Her back arched and she groaned at the sensation.
"Trying to mark me as yours, are you?" she laughed, kissing his cheek.
"You have no idea," Matthew hissed, seizing her mouth again. She felt his hand release hers, and his arm moved as he reached for the drawer of the nightstand.
She moved her hand to stop him, taking hold of his fingers and pulling them back, laying her arm above her head.
Matthew raised his head and looked at her in shock.
Mary swallowed and met his gaze. Her heart beat rapidly, the weight of what she was choosing so heavy upon her, and yet completely liberating as well. The two of them seemed suspended in that position for long moments, Matthew searching her face for some sign of caution or fear and finding none.
"Are…are you sure?" Matthew stammered, his eyes wide, his mind refusing to believe what she may be trying to tell him.
"You've lived your life, and I've lived mine, and now we're finally allowed to live them together, truly together," Mary whispered, her eyes moistening. "There's no need to be careful anymore. Everything is permitted."
Matthew leaned down and kissed her once, twice, three times. He raised up again and smiled down at her.
"Mary," he smiled.
"Husband," she smiled back.
He kissed her again, each of them breathing in their collective cries of pleasure that followed.
Manchester Cathedral Cemetery, Manchester, England, December 1915
"I'm afraid they won't last very long," Mary sighed as they walked along the snow covered ground. She carried the calla lilies from her wedding in her arms, the stems already drying up slightly in the cold air.
"Don't worry about that," Isobel smiled. "He would get a good laugh at you being concerned that he would actually care about such things."
Matthew laughed as well, holding the wreath they'd purchased that morning. He guided his wife and mother along the row until they came to a large headstone. Mary and Matthew stood back as Isobel stepped forward. She brushed snow off of the headstone briskly, then patted it several times, smiling at her husband's name engraved across the front.
"Reggie, we're back," she smiled. "I know I told you everything last night, but why don't you hear it from Mary and Matthew directly?"
Isobel stepped back and Mary and Matthew approached. Matthew kneeled in front of the headstone and placed the wreath at its base. He steadied Mary as she leaned down and placed her calla lilies beneath the wreath. They both stood up and stared at his father's name, each of them lost in their own thoughts for several moments.
"We did it, Papa," Matthew whispered, holding on to Mary's gloved hand as he spoke. "Mary's going to be Countess, just like you wanted."
"Thank you so much," Mary whispered, holding on to Matthew. "I know that I told you so many times that I didn't care about any of it, but now that Matthew and I had a proper church wedding and we're both at Downton Abbey with our future ahead of us, I'm so happy, and so grateful."
They stood together for several more minutes. Matthew then guided Mary away and left Isobel to have some private time. Matthew walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, putting his arm around Mary's shoulder and pulling her close to him.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
"In your arms? Never," Mary smiled. "God, when did I become so disgustingly sappy where you're concerned?"
"There was nothing sappy about you last night," Matthew teased. "And I still have the marks to prove it."
"Matthew, your parents are just over there," Mary rolled her eyes. "And you very well know that you aren't the only one left with marks. You were practically trying to devour me at times."
Matthew laughed and squeezed her closer.
"Do you think she's happy?" Mary asked, looking over at Isobel. "She's done what she went to Downton to do. I'm concerned that she'll be lost without a mission to pursue."
"Mother is quite good at finding new causes to champion, I assure you," Matthew said. "And surprisingly, she's grown quite close with Cousin Violet. The two of them make strange but lovely companions."
"They do," Mary nodded. "Granny doesn't like not getting her way, but I think she secretly likes it when Isobel stands up to her."
"They never have dull conversations, from what I understand," Matthew agreed.
"What do you think comes next, darling?" Mary asked, looking over at him.
"God knows," Matthew said, kissing her lightly. "We're still at War. Robert is still at odds with us to a degree. The Estate isn't in the clear just yet. Who knows what's coming?"
"I was always taught that my life would begin once I married," Mary said, snuggling closer to him, revelling in the fact that she was allowed to act this way in public. "But life seems almost more uncertain now than it did when we were first married."
"It's a reminder to appreciate what we have, I suppose," Matthew said.
"And what do we have, Matthew?" Mary asked, smiling at him.
"We have each other, and a reception waiting for us back at my mother's house," Matthew said. "And we have a hotel suite all to ourselves for the rest of the week."
"And what part of that are you looking forward to most?" Mary teased.
"I'm looking forward to all sorts of things," Matthew smirked, looking at her knowingly.
"Don't make me blush," Mary smiled, arching her eyebrow at him.
He leaned over and kissed her softly as the winter air in Manchester warmed just a little.