Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, March 1916
"Is it official?" Sybil asked nervously. "I've seen the posters saying that any man wanting an exemption had to apply by today."
"The Act came into force this morning," Matthew nodded. "Any man between the ages of 18 and 41 who isn't married, widowed with children, or subject to a few other exceptions, is liable to be called."
"How soon could that happen?" Edith asked.
"Any day now," Matthew said, sipping his wine. "It's no secret that the Army is lacking in numbers. They need as many new soldiers as they can get. As it stands, it takes months to train them, so they won't likely see live action until the Summer."
"Yet another reality of War that is entirely morbid," Violet huffed. "Training. As though months of running around should prepare one adequately for one's own death."
"Granny," Mary rolled her eyes.
"I agree with Cousin Violet," Isobel shrugged. "But there really is no alternative. With more countries entering the fray, the Allies are at a disadvantage."
"At least numerically," Cora added.
"What does your mother say about all this? Why won't the Americans come and bolster the ranks?" Violet asked pointedly.
"The Canadians have been fighting since the beginning," Mary noted, slicing her potatoes. "So it can't be that they need to cross the Atlantic."
"Mama says that the American government feels it's a European problem," Cora sighed.
"The one time that they don't shove their noses into something," Granny arched her eyebrows.
"We should prepare for a number of servants and villagers leaving imminently," Matthew said. "None of them are exempt."
"What about Dr. Clarkson?" Sybil asked.
"He's already enlisted, despite his being over 41. He was in the medical corps before," Isobel replied.
Matthew looked at Mary, the two of them sharing a brief glance. They were grateful that their marriage had saved Matthew from being subject to the new law, but they were well aware of the reality facing them. If the response did not get the Army the numbers that they needed, or worse yet, if casualties continued to mount, then married men would not be spared for much longer.
The family continued their dinner, each one absorbed with their own private thoughts on what the War and the call to arms would mean. Carson stood stoically near the door, but his own mind was running, wondering how many more male servants he would lose and how he would compensate for them and still maintain his strict and exact standards.
Robert's chair continued to sit empty.
Crawley House, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, May, 1916
"Thank you again for the strawberries," Isobel said to her son as she set the small basket of fruit aside. Matthew sat quietly in his chair, sipping his tea and looking at the carpet. This was the first batch picked from the seeds that he and Mary had planted back in December. The fruit was quite small as planting in winter was hardly ideal, but for a first go, Isobel found them perfectly fine.
"I'm sure that Mrs. Bird will have plenty of ideas to whip these up into something scrumptious. She's still trying to get back at Mrs. Patmore over her strawberry shortcake that won raves last Summer," Isobel smiled.
"Hmm," Matthew said quietly.
"Or perhaps we'll merely tie them all together and wear them about as necklaces and bracelets. It's rather practical, don't you think? We'll always have a snack close at hand," Isobel said, watching Matthew carefully.
"Whatever you wish, Mother," Matthew said with a sigh.
"For God's sake, Matthew!" Isobel clapped her hands.
Matthew raised his head suddenly and stared at her in confusion. He looked at the basket of strawberries, then the annoyed look on his mother's face. He smiled wryly and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I wasn't paying attention," Matthew said quietly.
"No, you were not," Isobel nodded. "Now what has you so distracted?"
"I spoke to John Simon today. He called to give me some rather disturbing news, though it isn't a shock. The government are going to be introducing a new Bill to have married men be liable to be called up to War," Matthew explained.
"I see," Isobel muttered, her worst fears realized. They had heard the rumours even before the first Military Service Act was passed at the beginning of the year, but she hoped it would be at least another year before the government ordered more men to battle.
"The first wave wasn't enough, apparently," Matthew continued. "John suspects that they're gearing up for a large scale offensive and they want as many men as they can muster. Despite the last Bill, we're still behind France and Russia in terms of numbers."
"My goodness," Isobel shook her head.
Matthew sipped his tea.
"It all seems rather unfair," Isobel said. "You were just married in December."
Matthew looked over at her and smiled ruefully.
"You know that isn't true," Matthew frowned. "And there is very little that is fair about War. I'm sure there are many couples who are even more aggrieved by this than we are."
"I should like to meet them," Isobel scoffed. "Spending the first years of your marriage living apart and in secret, seeing each other only a handful of times a week, then coming here and continuing the charade, you haven't had four years of a normal marriage, Matthew."
"Nothing about us is normal, Mother," Matthew laughed. "And I do not regret any of the moments I've had with Mary. I thought of her as my wife from the moment we first met, so the precise number of days we've been allowed to act properly as husband and wife isn't important."
"Even still, you are worried about her," Isobel said calmly.
"She's strong," Matthew said. "She's proven herself capable of enduring without me before, but I hate to see her tested so many times."
Isobel nodded sadly as Matthew looked away.
"What do I do?" Matthew asked, glancing across to his father's portrait on the mantle.
Isobel smiled. "Your father would tell you to not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow already will have its own worries."
Matthew turned to her and smiled in recollection.
"I expect I'll be called shortly, a week or two at most. They tend to want officers to come from the upper classes. Training will take two or three months, so I'll still be in England, but I won't be able to come home," Matthew sighed.
"You'll be with Cousin Robert," Isobel mentioned. "Perhaps he could arrange for you to be free on weekends?"
"I doubt it," Matthew shook his head. "He's one of several training officers at Sandhurst. They wouldn't assign me to his supervision. It would look too much like nepotism."
"My boy, in case you have not learned from our time here, nepotism is a way of life among the aristocracy," Isobel frowned.
Matthew laughed.
"Well, I had best make the most of these next days then," he said bravely. "I don't know how I'm going to break the news to…"
"Lady Mary Crawley," Molesley announced as he came into the parlour.
Matthew bolted to his feet as his wife came into the room.
"Mary!" he exclaimed.
"Matthew," Mary smiled politely. "Isobel," she said to her mother-in-law.
"What a wonderful surprise," Isobel smiled motioning to the chair next to Matthew.
Mary sat down and waited patiently as Molesley poured her a cup of tea. Once the valet was dismissed and left the room, closing the door behind him, she finally spoke up.
"You've gotten careless now that our marriage is out in the open, darling," she teased, looking at Matthew pointedly. "Leaving so abruptly after your supposedly private telephone conversation revealed exactly what the call was about."
Matthew rolled his eyes. "So you know," he said.
"It wasn't difficult to read your notes," Mary frowned, showing him the piece of paper that he had scribbled notes of his conversation with John Simon on.
"I must have left it in the parlour by accident," Matthew shook his head.
"I was telling Matthew how unfair all of this is. The two of you have just now been able to stop running around in secret, and now this," Isobel said.
"It is," Mary nodded. "Though wallowing won't accomplish anything."
"Now you sound like Papa," Matthew grumbled.
"Well, I am his daughter-in-law," Mary smirked.
"It's important that we continue the work that we've been doing on the Estate, now more than ever," Matthew nodded, looking at both women. "I'm actually pleased we have less staff to deal with at the moment, but everything we've planned for the next year must go ahead."
"Labour may be an issue," Mary said. "We lost another fellow who was working the pig farm last week. He left for Sandhurst yesterday."
"Work out whatever you can with the time you have left," Isobel said firmly. "Mary and I will see it done."
Matthew nodded in thanks. The three of them drank their tea, hoping that Matthew's call was well into the future, but knowing it was likely closer than any of them wanted.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, June 1916
"Sir," Carson nodded as Matthew came into the Great Hall. "Lady Mary has asked that you go and see her in the library upon your return, sir."
"Thank you, Carson," Matthew nodded, changing direction and walking to the library.
Matthew closed the doors behind him as he came into the library. Mary was facing away from him, standing over a table and looking at a book. She turned her head as he approached.
"The doors are supposed to remain open during the day, Matthew," she said lightly.
"Not for what I have in mind," Matthew smiled, wrapping his arms across her waist and kissing her cheek.
"So, how are the pigs? I only ask since you are perspiring like one," she laughed.
"And yet, you do nothing to push me away," Matthew smiled, holding her close. "Could the delicate Lady Mary have an affection for the musk of a man?"
"Hardly," Mary rolled her eyes. "But whether you sweat or not, you still smell middle class. I suppose that I've gotten used to it over the years."
"You naughty minx," Matthew said, tickling her sides. "May I remind you that it was not I who changed bedpans as part of my occupation?"
"Stop it, Matthew!" Mary laughed, swatting at his hands. "How dare you insult the fine nursing profession?"
"I have no argument with nurses at all," Matthew joked. "I have rather vivid memories of being treated very well by a nurse's assistant in the unused patient rooms of the Royal Infirmary."
"Thank goodness the doors are closed for all the scandalous words coming out of your mouth," Mary smirked, turning and kissing him lightly.
"Now, before I do something drastic such as ravishing you here on this sofa, why did you summon me, wife?" Matthew asked, kissing her neck.
"I have news," Mary said, turning in his hold and placing her arms on his shoulders. "It concerns your pending call to the Army."
"Have you heard anything from Robert?" Matthew asked, frowning at the subject.
"You know that I would probably be the last person that Papa would speak to. If I answered the telephone and it was him, he'd probably rather speak to Bates," Mary huffed.
"Now, now," Matthew said patiently.
"Anyway, no, I haven't heard from Papa. But, while we do not know precisely when you will have to leave yet, it is very important that you request your first leave to coincide with January next."
"My first leave?" Matthew repeated incredulously. "Darling, I'm hardly in a position to make demands before I am even officially in the Army. Besides, wouldn't you want me here in December?"
"I always want you, regardless of the month," Mary shook her head. "However I'll need you more than ever in January."
"Why January of all months? What could possibly be happening seven months from…" Matthew asked.
He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening as he stared at Mary.
Mary smiled, then grinned as she watched realization dawn on her husband's face.
"Are you? Will we? Is it? January?" Matthew stammered.
"I'm with child. Our child," Mary nodded, her eyes bright. "Were going to have a baby, Matthew."
Matthew laughed merrily, scooping Mary up off her feet and spinning them around. Mary laughed along with him, holding on to his neck as he scampered over to the sofa and sat down, holding her in his lap.
"God, Mary," he laughed, kissing her over and over. "A baby!"
"A baby," Mary replied between kisses, stroking his hair.
Their news was met with joyful reactions at the dinner table that night. Sybil had cheered the loudest of course. Edith merely smiled. Cora grinned proudly and Violet and Isobel remained composed but clearly happy. The family had now gotten used to the idea of Mary and Matthew being married, and to hear that a baby was on the way was far more welcome than their initial revelation about their past had been.
"Do you know how far along you are, Mary?" Sybil asked, grinning widely.
"About two months," Mary nodded. "Though it's impossible to know for certain."
"We may have a Christmas baby, then," Cora nodded. "How lovely!"
"It has been quite a while since a child has roamed these halls," Violet smiled, glancing over at Sybil, then at Mary. "Very welcome news, my dear."
"Why, Granny," Edith smiled. "I didn't take you for the nostalgic type."
"That's the duty of all grandmothers, isn't it?" Isobel smiled. "To reminisce fondly on the past?"
"I am not entirely fond of the past that I can remember," Violet said.
Matthew looked at Mary and chuckled.
"Well, a toast then," Cora declared, lifting her glass and the rest of the table followed. "To the next generation of Crawleys."
Matthew raised his glass in Mary's direction. The worries of tomorrow could wait, including when he was going to War and whether or not he would be back in time to see the birth of his child. For now, he sat with his wife and family in Downton Abbey, and there was a great deal to look forward to.
"You were surprised by how happy everyone was for us," Matthew smiled, lying on his side in bed.
"Without Papa here, I knew that everyone would give us their well wishes. It's the proper thing to do," Mary huffed, glancing at her reflection in the full length mirror.
"Do you believe they are secretly aghast at our news?" Matthew smirked.
"No, of course not," Mary sighed. "I suppose that after all we've been through, I can't help but be guarded about anything involving my family."
Mary turned side to side, clearly examining her profile in the mirror.
"Come to bed," Matthew smiled. "You look gorgeous."
Mary rolled her eyes and turned around. She pulled the blankets back and settled in next to Matthew.
"I don't see any difference yet," she said.
"Do you feel any differently?" Matthew asked, drawing her into his arms.
"Sometimes," Mary said. "Nothing significant. I've felt ill a few times in the past weeks. It passes rather quickly."
"Good," Matthew said, kissing her cheek. "Count yourself lucky then."
"I can't help thinking of all those mothers that your father helped while I worked in Manchester," Mary smiled, snuggling closer to him. "They were so elated when he gave them the news that they were pregnant."
"It was one of the happier tasks that he and Mother had. They didn't practice in that area, but they did come across it from time to time," Matthew said.
"I'm bracing myself for all sorts of advice," Mary sighed. "I expect that we'll need to refurbish one of the nurseries, and I'll need Mrs. Hughes to search for a Nanny at some point."
"Perhaps this will draw you and your Mama closer," Matthew said, kissing her neck.
"I wouldn't count on it, though it will be something we can all share in without it being too contentious," Mary said.
She smiled as his hands moved across her body.
"Darling, I'm pregnant," she chided him.
Matthew leaned back slightly. "Yes, and? Are you saying you don't want to?"
"Well, I just think we need to be careful," she said.
"I can be careful," Matthew smiled, moving back to kissing her shoulder.
"Matthew," she laughed.
"I can be very careful," Matthew smiled, his hand ghosting beneath the blankets and taking hold of the hem of her nightgown. "Trust me, darling. You won't feel a thing."
"Well I would hope that I would feel something!" Mary laughed.
Matthew stopped and frowned at her. "You are supposed to be falling under my spell of seduction. Stop making jokes," he growled.
"Very well," Mary said lightly. She closed her eyes as Matthew resumed his ministrations. "Do your worst," she grinned as he lifted her nightgown up her body.
Downton Station, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, July 1916
Matthew watched the train approach from down the track, the steam puffing along was always hypnotic, and it gave him something to focus on. Everyone on the platform nodded at him politely and with due respect as it was the first time he had worn his newly tailored military uniform. It was sent to him along with the confirmation of his commission, which made him feel strange. He expected that he would be kitted up when he reached Sandhurst, and he had half a mind to keep it stowed in his luggage until then.
The air was still and slightly cold despite it being Summer. He sighed as he watched the train pull to a stop and passengers move here and there. Some disembarked. Other boarded. He wondered how many of them were experiencing as profound a change in their lives as he was. He'd left a warm bed and his sleeping wife before dawn, quietly slipping away. He said his goodbyes last night at dinner, and spoken to all of the servants. He did not want the ceremony of a sending off as Robert had done. His train was leaving very early for one, and for another, it made him uncomfortable to pass from one person to another as though it was the last time he'd be seeing them.
When Robert left the first time, it was as though he was going off on adventure. Everyone was far more optimistic back then and bullish on the prospects of the Allies. The War would be over by Christmas. Isn't that what they said? Now it was almost two years later and there was no end in sight and countless lives had been snuffed out before their time. Going to War was no longer a grand occasion to be celebrated. Robert had said it himself – it was all about survival now.
Matthew blinked several times as he saw a figure emerge from the steam coming off the train. She wandered the platform, glancing anxiously at each car as she went. Matthew didn't dare believe his eyes as he just stared at her. When her eyes found his, she smiled and walked deliberately towards him.
"Mary?" he smiled in surprise, closing the distance between them quickly and taking her in his arms. "What are you doing here?"
"Matthew," she whispered, hugging him close. "I had to come see you off."
"You should be in bed. It's early, still," he said, drawing back and looking at her. "I was up before some of the servants."
"They were rather shocked to see me awake," Mary smiled. "I know that we said our goodbyes last night, but there was something I forgot to give you."
Matthew smiled and released her so she could open her purse. Last night had been difficult for both of them. They'd made love, then both broken into bouts of crying during the night. He would wake up startled, taking several seconds to confirm that she was still with him, and she would do the same. When it finally came time for him to leave, he'd kissed her as she slept and stared at her before finally pulling away.
Mary removed a small toy dog and handed it to him.
"It's my good luck charm, and I've had it always. I want you to take it with you, as a token, so you remember our son," Mary nodded.
Matthew took the dog and stared at it.
"I've never seen this before," he said.
"I brought it with me to Manchester, but never unpacked it," Mary nodded. "It was enough to know I had it, and it certainly worked for me there, so now it can bring you some good luck."
"Thank you, Mary, but I have no need to be reminded of you or our child. Won't you need it?"
"Not as much as you," Mary said, swallowing as she fought back her tears. "You must bring it back without a scratch,"
"I'll be fine," Matthew nodded, looking at her eyes. "I'll be in training for the next while. It'll be as though I'm in London."
Mary nodded, refusing to discuss what may happen after he was done training. They both had read the same reports. Soldiers fresh out of training had been sent to France to support the latest push by the Allies. Some had been mowed down in their first charges, killed having just set foot on foreign soil.
"Goodbye, my darling," Matthew said, embracing her again. "I love you, and God Bless you."
"I love you, Matthew," Mary said, holding him tight. "And so does our son."
"Darling, it could be a girl, you know," Matthew smiled, drawing back slightly.
"I know," Mary nodded. "But I think it's a boy."
"Then I will say it's a girl," Matthew smiled. "That way I have extra incentive to find out which one of us is right."
Mary stepped towards him again and kissed him firmly, not caring who was watching them.
Matthew hugged her close, then finally released her. The whistle blew sharply and he touched her arm one last time before turning and boarding the train. As he sat down in his seat, he turned and waved to her.
Mary stood on the platform, waving back at him. She continued to gaze at him as the train pulled away. She smiled for him, determined not to cry and barely succeeding.
Matthew watched her until the platform passed into the distance. She had remained stoic and composed, despite the emotions swirling inside both of them. Matthew removed his hat and sighed. If she could be strong, then so could he, he though with determination as the train wound its way towards London.
War Office, Whitehall, London, England, July 1916
"Lord Flintshire, it's Colonel Crawley on the phone for you, sir," the secretary announced, poking her head around the door of the office.
"Thank you," Lord Flintshire said gruffly, reaching for the telephone.
"Robert," he said brusquely. "How are you?"
"Well, Shrimpy, thank you," Robert said, looking out the window at another batch of recruits running past. "I won't take up your time. I was checking on whether you had news of Matthew?"
"He's scheduled to be arriving there later today," Shrimpy nodded. "I was able to put off his being called up for an extra month, but that was the best I could do."
"Of course, of course," Robert said. "Thank you, Shrimpy. We all appreciate it."
"Well, it's the best I could do. Please let Cousin Violet know that I did try," Shrimpy sighed.
"She already knows from our previous discussion, and you have her gratitude, as well as mine," Robert said crisply.
"Good day, Robert," Shrimpy said.
"Good day," Robert replied.
Robert hung up the phone and got up from his desk. He hadn't seen Matthew's name on any list that crossed his desk recently. He must have been assigned to one of the other officers, which was probably for the best. Even though Mary and Matthew were not aware, he'd done all he could to try and shield his heir from War. There was no getting around it now. Matthew would be part of the Army, and his fate, and that of their family, would lie in his hands from now on.
Robert turned back from the window and sat back down at his desk. He smiled, remembering Cora's letter and the news that Mary was pregnant. He expected it would happen, of course, but reading it for himself had made him smile. He instructed Cora to pass along his congratulations, but he knew Mary would think he was just doing his duty, saying what was expected of him as her father. She probably expected he was hoping for a boy, and truthfully he was, but the idea that he would have a grandchild in several months time thrilled him. Since going to War, he began thinking in terms of months rather than years in advance, and the thought that he would live to see the Grantham line continue was wonderful news indeed.
Robert sighed and opened the next folder on his desk. Matthew might soon have an heir. It was the kind of news to dance a jig over. Now Matthew had to survive the War, for all of their sakes.
Royal Military Academy Sandhurst, Berkshire, England, July 1916
Matthew stood with the other recruits as they listened to their new training officer. He had not seen Robert since he'd arrived, though he was relieved that his father-in-law was not his direct supervisor. Having to explain why he shared the same last name would have been both awkward and invited all manner of teasing, to say nothing for accusations of nepotism. As he glanced around at all the young faces, he wondered whether Robert could truly assist him in any event. It wasn't as though the Earl could help him run faster or do the exercises any better simply by being related to him.
Captain Joseph Stanhope had been Master at Harrow County School for Boys, and spoke to them as though they were first year students, rather than grown men. In a way, it was appropriate, as Matthew was one of the older men in this group.
"An officer is a gentleman ... and a gentleman is an officer," Captain Stanhope said. "You will all proceed to the office for paperwork and a medical physical. Dismissed."
Matthew saluted along with the rest of the group, then turned to head for the office.
"Now they're going to poke and prod us, eh?" a soft voice muttered.
Matthew turned and smiled wryly at the young man next to him.
"I'm Joshua Wilcox," the man said, sticking out his hand. He reminded Matthew of the young man that had up until recently worked on the pig farm before he had been called up.
"Matthew Crawley," he replied. "They just want to make sure we're healthy enough to survive training."
"And what about after that?" Joshua asked.
"There's no tests to see if we'll survive that, I'm afraid," Matthew shrugged.
They walked in silence to the imposing administration building. Once inside all the recruits were issued packets of forms to fill out before proceeding to their medical assessments. Matthew and Joshua found seats in the large classroom. Matthew placed his envelope on the desk and noticed it was considerably thicker than those of the men around him.
"I'm glad that's not mine," Joshua said as he noticed the difference. "Good luck with that."
Matthew nodded as he removed a stack of papers. As he went through the questionnaire, he felt as though he were writing a university exam rather than just filling in information. There were logic games, puzzles and maths questions that he expected some would find quite difficult. He reminded himself that it wasn't a competition and was probably just an assessment of certain skills. Despite having more pages to get through, he finished before young Joshua beside him.
Matthew brought his paperwork to the officer at the front of the room and handed in his work.
"Crawley, Crawley," the officer muttered as he checked over a list. "The medical examiner is running behind with his assessments," the officer said without looking up. "Report to the chaplain instead," he ordered.
Matthew frowned at the instruction, but the officer did not look up. Matthew turned and headed for the chapel, noticing that his packet was handed by the officer to another man, who briskly couriered it out of the classroom.
The chapel was a beautiful structure, rather out of place in the military environment. He found the place empty as he came in. Wandering about, he looked at the stain glass windows for a moment, before he turned at the sound of someone coming in.
"Mr. Crawley, this way please," the man said.
Matthew followed him as he walked past the altar and through a door. They went down a narrow hallway to an office. The man sat down behind a desk and motioned for Matthew to take a seat. Matthew sat down as the man took out what appeared to be Matthew's assessment package and began reading it.
Matthew sat still, growing increasingly anxious as the man flipped the pages. The man would pause and glance at particular answers, make small grunting noises or raise his eyebrow, then keep reading. When he man finished reading through the package, he flipped back to the beginning and did it again. Matthew found the entire exercise rather unnerving, but remained seated and quiet.
"Reverend William Montgomery," the man said finally, looking up at Matthew.
"Reverend," Matthew nodded.
"Do you know what an acrostic is, Matthew?" he asked.
"It's a word puzzle," Matthew answered, frowning at what seemed like a random question.
"Indeed it is. And how do you solve a Caesar cipher?" the Reverend asked.
"It's a substitution cipher; typically to solve it you adjust any given part by one letter or one number in sequential order. If number one is written, for example, it represents the number two."
"And you were a lawyer in your previous life?" Reverend Montgomery asked.
"I still am one," Matthew said.
"Of course you are," Reverend Montgomery smiled.
"You're the heir to the Earl of Grantham, aren't you? Your country house is at Downton Abbey in Yorkshire?" he asked.
"Yes," Matthew nodded. He was suspicious as to where all of this was going, but he expected that the Army and the government knew a great deal about him already, so there was no reason to deflect any of these questions.
"And is it true that you invested in Marconi's Wireless in 1914?" Reverend Montgomery asked, looking over a sheet of paper.
"Yes," Matthew replied in confusion. He did not see the relevance of that, but he expected that the man already knew the answer.
"Shrewd," Reverend Montgomery commented, smiling as he put the paper down.
"Thank you," Matthew replied carefully.
"Why did you become a lawyer, Matthew?" the Reverend asked. "Was it for the money?"
"No," Matthew shook his head. "My parents wanted me to become a doctor, actually, but I enjoyed the law even before university. I liked how it involved problem solving, each case presenting a unique set of facts that when analyzed in the context of past case decisions helped one arrive at a conclusion."
"A logical conclusion, yes?" Reverend Montgomery suggested.
"Not always, no," Matthew said. "Laws are still passed by politicians and applied by judges, so there can be a lack of logic in anything that involves men."
Reverend Montgomery smiled mysteriously.
"Here is what I want to do for you, Matthew," he said. "I'm with the Admiralty. We have a small department in Whitehall that we've put together for people like you. The group has civilians and military personnel, all with one goal in mind – problem solving. Specifically, we analyze and attempt to decode ciphers and coded messages intercepted from the other side. It isn't a perfect science, of course, but we try and identify individuals who have the skills we think will help us. You're a lawyer, Matthew, which is why we tested you. Most lawyers don't score nearly as high as you do on logical reasoning or reading comprehension. I think that makes you an ideal candidate."
"You're with Naval Intelligence," Matthew said slowly.
"Precisely," Reverend Montgomery smiled. "Now, you still need to go through basic training, but once you're done, you'll be sent to London and stationed there until you help us win the War."
Matthew swallowed, his eyes widening at the implications.
"Unless you would rather go off and get yourself killed in a trench somewhere in France?" Revered Montgomery asked.
"No, sir!" Matthew blurted out. "I…thank you for the offer, sir."
"You're welcome, Matthew," Reverend Montgomery smiled, rising from his chair and shaking Matthew's hand. "We'll give you the official orientation in a few weeks, but I don't think it's too premature to say – Welcome to Room 40."
Matthew thanked the man again and saluted as he was dismissed. He walked out of the room and back down the hall as if in a trance. He did not know what was more stunning – that he would be staying in London and not going to the Front, or that he would be working in codebreaking for the government.
As he left the chapel, Matthew put his hand in his pocket. Mary's toy dog felt soft and warm in his hand. He looked up at the sky and smiled. Such good luck, indeed.
"Enter," Robert said in reply to the firm knock on his door.
"Colonel Crawley, sir," a voice called.
Robert looked up and smiled.
"My dear boy," he said, rising from his chair and greeting Matthew with a firm handshake. "I heard you arrived this week."
"I'm sorry that I didn't seek you out before," Matthew said, taking the seat offered to him. "It seems I've been running and doing calisthenics since I got here."
"Well, we need our boys in top shape," Robert laughed. "How are you holding up?"
"Very well, actually," Matthew smiled. "It hasn't been as exhausting as I feared."
"Well, I suppose we should be thankful that you were so fastidious about exercise these past few years," Robert smiled, recalling Matthew being the only person to ever use the exercise room at Downton Abbey. "Have you been assigned to a unit as of yet?"
"I have," Matthew nodded.
"And how do your men look to you?" Robert asked.
"Well, the thing is, Robert, is that I'm not being deployed with the infantry," Matthew said.
"Oh?" Robert frowned. "What unit are you assigned to, then?"
"I'm actually being transferred to Naval Intelligence," Matthew smiled.
Robert blinked several times, absorbing this information.
"You're staying in London?" Robert asked, his stomach fluttering in shock and a small sense of hope.
"I am," Matthew nodded. "They think that I may have what it takes to be a code breaker apparently."
"Good God!" Robert smiled. "That's outstanding news, Matthew!"
"It is," Matthew nodded, unable to contain his glee. "I've been quite fortunate."
"To say it mildly," Robert laughed. "A child on the way, and now this. What does Mary say?"
"I haven't been able to tell her as of yet," Matthew shook his head. "They want me to get settled in London first once I'm done here."
"Of course," Robert nodded. "Well, you'll stay at Grantham House of course. It will be good to have the company, though I'm not there very much, truthfully."
"Thank you, Robert," Matthew nodded. "Though I wanted to tell you that I intend to send for Mary once I've started work in Whitehall. I won't be separated from her if I'm to stay in England."
Robert frowned briefly, then nodded. "Yes, I see how you would feel that way."
"I don't expect the two of you to get along," Matthew said. "And I know you are both capable of avoiding each other. But, Grantham House is smaller than Downton and I don't want any issues, particulary given Mary's pregnancy, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home either."
Robert raised his hand. "Send for her," he said firmly. "You should have your wife at your side. I expect she will insist on having the baby at Downton though."
"She most likely will, yes," Matthew laughed. "And that is how it should be."
Robert rose from his chair and shook Matthew's hand once more. "Well, good luck with the rest of your training, Matthew," Robert said.
Matthew saluted and left the office. Both the Earl of Grantham and his heir were in much better spirits than before.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, August 1916
Mary looked around the bedroom, mentally going over her checklist of items. Anna stood nearby, smiling to herself as her Mistress was deep in concetration.
"And Bates arranged all of Mr. Crawley's clothes in the dressing room?" Mary asked, wandering over to her vanity and checking her bottles and creams.
"He did, Milady," Anna nodded. "We brought most of Mr. Crawley's wardrobe here."
"I expect he'll be wearing suits to work each day," Mary muttered. "That's what he wore to the office in Manchester and really he has an office job now in a fashion."
"Yes, Milady," Anna nodded.
Mary stopped in front of the full length mirror and looked at her profile. Her stomach swelled slightly below her Summer dress. She turned her hips, reviewing the way she looked.
"I'm sure that Mr. Crawley will be pleased with how the baby is growing, Milady," Anna said.
"I hope so, Anna," Mary sighed. "There should be some benefit to all this weight I'm putting on, I should hope."
Anna smirked slightly. Even at four months pregnant, Lady Mary was far more svelte than most women.
They both turned their heads as they heard heavy footsteps from downstairs.
"That's Mr. Bates," Anna said.
"Come, Anna," Mary smiled as she moved towards the door. "It sound as though the Master of the House has arrived."
Mary walked briskly down the hall and reached the top of the stairs as Bates opened the door. She stopped and grinned as Matthew stepped into the foyer, removing his hat and nodding to Bates. A driver carried Matthew's bags in behind him and placed them on the floor. Matthew glanced around, then looked up at Mary descending the stairs. His smile mimicked hers.
"Mary," Matthew nodded as she approached him.
"Good day, Matthew," Mary smiled, nodding politely in return.
"I'll bring your bags downstairs and deal with the laundry, sir," Bates said, smirking at Anna as he carried Matthew's luggage past the smiling couple.
"If that will be all, Milady?" Anna asked.
"Yes, Anna. I'll ring for you later," Mary said, not turning around.
"Yes, Milady. Welcome home, sir," Anna curtsied.
"Anna," Matthew mumbled, his eyes still on his wife.
"You look gorgeous," he whispered, once they were left alone.
"Thank you," Mary blushed, looking down demurely.
Matthew reached into his pocket and took out her toy dog. Mary smiled as he handed it back to her.
"It worked," Matthew grinned. "Your lucky charm has saved me from going to the Front."
"Your skills saved you," Mary corrected him. "I'm just relieved that the Army recognized that your talents would be wasted over there."
"And you could see yourself content with your husband sitting behind a desk rather than gallantly fighting the Huns in battle?" Matthew teased. "I won't be much of War hero now, I'm afraid."
"You're more valuable to me here," Mary scoffed, stepping towards him. "And I am looking forward to sleeping with you each night, rather than having to rely upon your letters for comfort."
"Certainly," Matthew smiled, taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly. "I can live with that."
Matthew kissed her again, then drew back and placed his hand on her stomach. Mary smiled at him, covering his hand with her own before she kissed him once more.