Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, March 1918

"Down-ton," Matthew said, pointing out the window as he balanced George on his lap. "Down-ton."

George gurgled and waved his little hand as he followed his father's gaze. Sybil grinned at Mary.

"They're just adorable together, aren't they?" Sybil said.

"Don't encourage him," Mary frowned. "He's been carrying George since we got on the train. At this rate, Nanny can help out in the kitchens during our stay, since she's barely been given a chance to do her actual job."

Matthew continued to play with his son. His wife's barb was said deliberately loud enough for him to hear, but he deliberately ignored it. Nanny exchanged a knowing glance with Branson in the front seat.

Once they reached the front of the house, Matthew bounded out the door, leaving Branson to assist the women. He placed George down on the ground and gingerly walked next to him as the boy found his balance and waddled his way towards the entrance.

Robert and Cora smiled as they watched the toddler approach. With the surprisingly balmy Spring sun shining down on his blond hair and his rather snappy sailor outfit, George was the picture of innocence. Robert in particular found the sight of him endearing, having just arrived from Sandhurst himself, where all he saw were constant reminders of War.

"What a fine little chap you are!" Robert beamed at George. The Earl's smile was wide and his voice slightly booming due to his excitement.

"His blond hair is just enchanting," Cora exclaimed as she grinned in appreciation. "Come, let's go in."

George smiled and turned his head away shyly, burrowing his face in Matthew's leg.

"All right, come on now, George," Matthew smiled, picking up George again. He rubbed the child's back soothingly.

"Darling," he coaxed, "It's alright. This is your Granny Cora and your Grandpapa Robert. They're Mama's parents, remember?"

George nuzzled Matthew's neck and shoulder, his blue eyes looking over at Robert and Cora.

"He's had a long trip," Mary said as she arrived at Matthew's side. She reached out her gloved hand and George immediately grabbed it and squealed happily, smiling at Mary. "He's probably feeling overwhelmed with all the different names that Matthew has been inundating him with since we left King's Cross."

"Well," Robert chuckled. "He clearly takes after you, Matthew. Mary was never shy like this."

Cora could see the unimpressed reaction on her daughter's face and quickly tried to change the subject.

"It is wonderful you could come back with Sybil," Cora said, reaching out and taking Mary's hands in hers. "There's a fair in the Village that you are bound to enjoy."

"Thank you, Mama," Mary said. "It's been years since I've been to the fair, actually. Did Anna make it back all right?"

"She and Bates arrived hours ago," Cora nodded. "Sybil, my darling, did you enjoy yourself in London?"

"Mary was a perfect hostess," Sybil smiled. "But I am eager to get back to work."

"Tomorrow, Sybil," Robert said firmly as they walked inside. "Your Mama and Cousin Isobel didn't schedule you in for the rest of the day. Well, you all should wash off the train. We'll see all of you at dinner this evening."

"Very good," Matthew said, and made his way upstairs, carrying George in his arms. The boy glanced around in wonder, looking at the portraits and paintings and banners that adorned the walls.

Matthew turned at the landing and continued up the rest of the stairs. He noticed that Mary had lingered back with Sybil. He went up to their bedroom, stopping every so often so George could look down from the gallery.

"Matthew, give him over to Nanny," Mary ordered. "He's overdue for his nap, thanks to you not allowing him to sleep on the train."

Matthew kissed George on the cheek and reluctantly passed him to Nanny. The woman smiled and carried George to the nursery. Matthew watched them go, then followed Mary into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"I'm bathing first," Mary declared, pulling the cord. She removed her gloves and sat down at her vanity.

"Can't we bathe together?" Matthew smiled, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

"No, we can't," Mary retorted. "Stop that."

She swatted his hands away and removed the pins from her hair to take off her hat.

"What have I done wrong now?" Matthew smiled, raising his eyebrows at their reflection in the mirror.

"What makes you think you've done anything wrong?" Mary asked lightly, not meeting his gaze.

"You've been cross with me since we arrived at the train station," Matthew said. "And you always deny me your body when you want to punish me."

"No, I do not!" Mary said bitterly. "Do not accuse me of withholding sex to get my way, Matthew. That's entirely improper, and the trait of a very petty woman, which I am not."

"Darling, please," Matthew said, holding up his hands. "You're clearly irritated about something and I want to know what it is. I can't apologize for my behaviour, or properly defend myself if you don't let me know what I've done wrong."

Mary turned and glared at him. She opened her mouth when there was a knock at the door.

"Milady. Sir. Welcome back," Anna said cheerfully as she came into the bedroom. Bates followed with Mary's luggage.

"Anna, a hot bath please," Mary said, standing up and walking away from Matthew.

"Yes, Milady. Right away," Anna nodded. She waited for Bates to place Mary's cases in her dressing room and left with the valet.

"Matthew," Mary said with a sigh, turning back to him. "You really need to be more mindful of the rules of etiquette, particularly when we're here."

"This is about me carrying my own son, isn't it?" Matthew laughed.

"George must be raised a gentleman. He needs to understand his station in life and your coddling undermines nanny's authority," Mary said, slightly piqued that her husband did not seem disturbed by her mood. "If George needs to be carried while we travel, which is rare in any event, she'll be the one to do it, not you. It just isn't how we do things."

"He's still learning how to walk," Matthew replied. "And I don't trust him to stay with Nanny on a busy train platform, is all."

"It's her job to keep track of him, Matthew," Mary scoffed. "If you think that a grown woman doesn't have the strength to keep George under control, then we're either dealing with a very strong baby or a very frail Nanny."

"Fine, I will admit that I enjoy holding my son," Matthew shrugged. "Mary, you spend all day with him. I barely get a few hours. Is it surprising that I want to coddle him a little on the weekends?"

"I tolerate your behaviour in London because it's just the two of us," Mary said. "But here, everything must be done properly. Everything that you do is a testimonial to my ability as a mother, and I don't want to give Papa any extra ammunition against me."

"Just explain that I'm only doing what my father did with me at the same age," Matthew said. "Simple enough?"

"No, it's not," Mary rolled her eyes. "And by the way, do not think that you can simply conjure your father's name and that will absolve you of anything you've done. I want my son to behave as a properly raised young boy, and not some rambunctious creature who runs to his Papa for comfort."

"All right," Matthew sighed. "I will allow Nanny to do her job. But I still intend to play with him before dinner and take him to the fair."

"Please do," Mary nodded. "Just try and control yourself whenever Mama or Papa is around us, so I am not accused of ruining the future Earl of Grantham. Heaven forbid that we should have a daughter. Then I'll truly be a disappointment."

"Now wait a minute," Matthew said, stepping towards her. He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "Having a girl will never be seen as anything other than the blessing that it is. Mother would love it, and so would I."

Mary smiled and nodded.

"Now, about that bath…" Matthew said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"All right," Mary smiled, rolling her eyes. "But we must actually bathe this time."

"We always bathe…afterward…" Matthew smirked.

Mary rolled her eyes again as she took his hand and led him out the door and down the hall to the bathroom.

The mood at the dinner table was rather lively as the entire family gathered together. Edith and Sir Anthony had come over from Loxley. The family had gotten used to him wearing his arm in a sling, and the servants compensated by serving him on his other side. Matthew smiled as Mary spoke with her sisters and his mother spoke with the Dowager Countess. It seemed that they were able to live in their own little world, despite there being a large room full of recovering soldiers just a few walls away. Though Matthew sometimes felt the family was a bit too indifferent to the world beyond Yorkshire, in this case, he was glad for the respite.

After the pudding course was cleared, Cora led the ladies through. Mary brushed her hand across his shoulder affectionately as she walked past him. Matthew looked up at her and shared a brief smile. He had done his utmost during their bath to get back on her good side, and he was pleased to see his effort was working. He resumed a composed expression as Robert took his customary cigar and brandy from Carson.

"How are you finding being a father?" Robert asked as he smoked. The man at least was courteous enough to puff away from Matthew's face.

"It's incredible," Matthew said genuinely.

"Yes it is," Robert agreed. "Although you won't understand real parenting until you have a daughter. There's just something about girls, you know. You can't help but worry about them more, truly."

"I hope to have a daughter," Matthew nodded.

"It's not something most men desire," Robert said casually. "But, I do find it rewarding despite the additional taxing of the nerves and pocketbook."

"I can understand that," Matthew said. "Mostly, I just want George to have a sibling. Both my father and I were only children, so I'd like to break that family tradition."

"Well, you shall soon enough," Robert said. "Mary told me that she expects to have several children. Two in three years will be a good start."

"We thought it wise to fill the house with children while their Grandpapa is still spry enough to play with them," Matthew smiled.

Robert chuckled and nodded, looking at his brandy wistfully.

"I think that both of you are making an effort towards each other, and it's working a little bit," Matthew said firmly.

Robert met his gaze and held it for a moment.

"I hope so," he said quietly. "Baby steps, as they say."

Dower House, Yorkshire, England, March 1918

Mary always enjoyed having tea at Dower House. She still remembered the first time after her grandpapa's death that her granny had invited her to this place that she had never visited before. It had been an inspiration to leave Downton Abbey and yet still feel as though she was at home. To Mary it had been a sanctuary as she grew up, for even though there were hundreds of rooms at Downton Abbey, she always felt she was being watched there, that the weight of expectation was always upon her. Being able to come here, even if it was with her Mama and sisters, was a welcome escape. When she had been banished, the brief hope that she could live here instead had warmed her until Cousin James dashed the idea completely. It never ceased to amaze her how the decisions of others – James banishing her, her parents going along with it, not allowing her to live even at Dower House – had led her to the life she had now.

"Everyone, I have some news," Edith said hesitantly as she looked about the room.

Mary lowered her tea cup. Everyone turned towards Edith and waited, but they were met with only silence.

"This is the part where you tell us your news," Mary said pointedly.

Sybil couldn't help but giggle at this remark, and Cora sighed dramatically as she looked at the floor.

"Yes Edith," Isobel said tactfully. "What is it, dear?"

"Well, I've been to see Dr. Clarkson," she said, although she didn't elaborate any further and merely blushed and smiled.

Cora gasped and set down her teacup with a jolt. The slight crash of the china had Violet turn her gaze, concerned for her dishware.

"Edith," Sybil smiled. "Are you going to make me an aunt again?"

"I am quite happy to say that I will be, yes," Edith nodded.

"Another grandchild," Cora said as she patted her daughter's hand, "What a blessing."

"Congratulations to you and Sir Anthony," Sybil said with affection. "Your child will be the same age as Mary's."

"George and his brother, or sister, will be happy to have a cousin to play with," Mary nodded.

"We are hoping for a girl," Edith said. "Anthony doesn't want a boy after what he has seen during the War. He said…well…he said he'd like a girl who looks like me."

"Heavens, the man has an entire bag full of tricks," Violet smirked.

"I think it an understandable sentiment," Isobel said, looking over at the Dowager Countess.

"Matthew wants a girl too," Mary shrugged, sipping her tea.

"Of course he does," Isobel smiled at her daughter-in-law. "There hasn't been a girl in the Crawley side of our family in generations."

"If only we had known you when Matthew and the girls were children," Cora said nostalgically.

"Imagine that," Sybil shook her head.

"Oh, I don't know," Mary smiled. "I'm quite pleased with how things turned out."

Isobel smiled at her in understanding.

"We'll need to expand the nursery," Cora said enthusiastically. "There's room for both of Mary's children now, but I'd like to be able to fit another crib so that your child can take naps and so on when you visit," she said to Edith.

"That would be lovely, Mama," Edith replied.

"Careful, Sybil," Mary teased. "You'll be recruited to be a nanny once the War is over."

"I'll be the favourite aunt, but that's it," Sybil answered.

"I should hope so," Violet huffed. "If only this unpleasant affair would end so Sybil could find a proper gentlemen to settle down with."

"Oh, Granny," Mary rolled her eyes. "Sybil doesn't need to be concerned about finding a husband so urgently."

"You're one to say," Violet said haughtily. "You found one in rather one of the more unlikely of places."

Mary and Isobel shared a laugh as the chatter turned to hearing all about Edith's plans to renovate the nursery at Loxley House.

Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, March 1918

Though Mary wanted to avoid taking a shift in the hospital during her visit, Sybil's constant badgering forced her to reconsider. She was pleased to see that many of the soldiers she tended to back in November had been discharged since, and she was hopeful they were all still alive. She did notice that the current batch of patients were far more subdued, almost reclusive in a way. There was very little talk and banter. They would mumble their thanks when receiving a book or a letter, and follow instructions from Isobel and the others without comment. The severity of their injuries were far worse as well. Many of them weren't merely convalescing. They were at the beginning of what would be a long road to recover some sense of normalcy. She sighed as she put her apron in the hamper to be washed and turned to leave the hospital at the end of her shift.

"Mary," a voice called insistently as she passed the patients. Mary stopped and looked up. She blinked in surprise.

"Evelyn!" she exclaimed, approaching his bedside. "I didn't know you were here."

The Honourable Evelyn Napier looked very different from the last time she had seen him. His appearance was altered. He had cuts all over his face, and his hair had been shaved to accommodate stitches. He smiled bravely as she sat down at his bedside.

"It was rather a mix-up," Evelyn explained. "I did ask to come here as my preference over all the other places, but I was initially denied. I was only later allowed to come here because of my connection to your family and the personal intervention of Lord Grantham."

"Well, whatever the reason, it's good to see you," Mary said as she smiled at him warmly. "I wish someone had told me you were here earlier."

"You're here now," Evelyn nodded. "You're looking very well, Mary. Marriage agrees with you."

"It does," Mary nodded, blushing slightly, as she looked down at her lap, her wedding and betrothal rings displayed proudly on her finger. "We spend most of our time in London. Matthew works at Whitehall."

"Father mentioned it," Evelyn nodded. "I'm glad for you that he's been spared going to the Front. It's no place for anyone, Mary."

Mary frowned at his suddenly vacant expression.

"What's it been like?" she asked softly, touching his hand.

Evelyn turned back and looked at her, some colour returning to his face.

"I actually can't talk about it," he shrugged. "But many of us have no business being there, Mary. We're not soldiers, despite what the government says. We're just noblemen with no particularly special skills, and yet they expect us to lead battalions and take charge. I didn't need any training in the Army in order to command men; all I needed was the upbringing of an aristocrat. Clearly, that was woefully inadequate."

"Evelyn," Mary said cautiously. "You're here now. Just focus on getting better."

"Of course," Evelyn nodded. "Congratulations. Your second, is it?"

Mary touched her stomach lightly. "Yes. We have a son: George. We've been very lucky."

"I must say I am having great difficulty picturing you as a mother," Evelyn chuckled. "Though I am sure you are wonderful at it. I don't always think very clearly when it comes to you."

Mary's eyes widened in shock at his words. She looked at him and saw a dazed expression cross his face. He must have been given his medicine recently, she thought. It was loosening his tongue worse than alcohol.

"I've always regretted not seeking you out when all that…unpleasantness…happened, Mary," Evelyn continued. "I could have protected you. I could have given you a place in London, a life. But I was so scared, so worried about what everyone else would say about us, or how it would reflect on my family. It's rather funny how now I'm in here as a result of what people assumed about my leadership skills. I suppose presumptions can be dangerous for men just as they can be for women."

Mary merely looked back down at her lap, unable to come up with a response to Evelyn's rambling. She always knew he was enamoured with her. That was why she had flirted with him during her Season. He wasn't the most interesting of men, but with his kindness and his title, he was infinitely better than Patrick. As she looked back at him now, in his damaged state, she felt the pang of regret over how casually she had treated him and other suitors all those years ago.

"I like Matthew," Evelyn blurted out. "He's a good man, and he's settled into our world brilliantly well. I'm glad that you found him, Mary, truly. If he had been around during your debut, I dare say none of us would have stood a chance."

Mary smiled and blushed at the compliment. She glanced around the room and noticed several soldiers staring at them, some with knowing smiles on their faces. She smiled sadly as she looked back at Evelyn. The image that they presented was attractive. Two highborn young people chatting amiably, she bearing a child, he a soldier injured fighting for King and Country. It was the exact picture that she would have imagined for herself years ago – married to a family friend, a member of the peerage, doing her duty to him and bearing his children, waiting patiently at home while he went off to fight the Germans. It was now the exact scenario that she was grateful every day to have been spared.

"You're a good man," Mary said, looking at him warmly. "I hope you know that I always thought very highly of you. You were never just an escape for me from Patrick. Please believe that."

"I do," Evelyn nodded. "But I won't lie and say I never thought of being more."

"I'm going to tell you something a wise man once told me," Mary said. "When I went through my troubles, he told me – 'you should simply be yourself, for everyone else is already taken.'"

"Oscar Wilde," Evelyn laughed.

"My future father-in-law, as he then was, quoted that to me," Mary nodded. "And he was right. Being who I was, even back then, made all the difference in the world."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," Evelyn chuckled. "So I suppose being myself will have to do."

"You're better than most men, Evelyn," Mary smiled. "I can attest to that."

"Thank you, Mary," Evelyn nodded. "Please do come by before you go back to London, and let Matthew know that I'm here, if you would."

"Of course," Mary smiled, standing up and smoothing her skirt. "I'll send him over with a deck of cards."

"I would like that, so long as you join us," Evelyn replied.

"As you wish, Captain Napier," Mary smiled. Evelyn closed his eyes and lay back, and Mary turned and left the room.

"I was wondering where you had gone off to," Matthew smiled as she reached the doorway that led from the hospital to the library.

"Matthew!" Mary exclaimed. "I was just…"

"It's all right," Matthew smiled, taking her hand and linking it with his arm. "I can't be shocked that other men desire my wife's company when in need of comfort to get them through their pain."

"That was Evelyn, actually," Mary said, relieved that he wasn't annoyed with her sitting on another man's bed. "No one mentioned to me that he was here."

"My God," Matthew blinked. "How is he?"

"Recovering," Mary shook her head. "He asked about you. I told him that we could all play cards together before we went back to London."

"Of course," Matthew nodded. "God, Evelyn. The poor man."

"Yes," Mary whispered, leaning into him a bit more as they walked through to the Great Hall. "I don't care if it sounds unpatriotic, but I'm so glad you were spared going over."

"As am I, darling," Matthew said, patting her hand. "Now, what would you like to do this afternoon?"

"It's such a nice day out. I was going to take Diamond out. I haven't seen him in months," she said.

"Diamond? You're not thinking of riding, surely?" Matthew asked.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Mary asked.

"Well, in your…" Matthew began, then stopped himself.

"In my…what?" Mary frowned at him.

"Erm…in your…well…it's just that…" Matthew stammered.

"In my present condition?" Mary glared at him, releasing his arm. "Are you suggesting that a woman who is with child for three months should not be riding?"

"Well, I simply think that you should be careful, is all," Matthew swallowed.

"So now I am not a careful rider?" Mary questioned. "You think that I'll fall off of Diamond as though I were a mere beginner, do you?"

"No," Matthew retorted defensively. "But it's not the same, Mary. You are after all a bit…"

"A bit what?" Mary asked icily.

"Erm…nothing," Matthew blushed.

"A bit heavier?" Mary demanded, arching her eyebrow at him.

"Is there any possible answer that will save me at this moment?" Matthew cringed.

"Not very likely," Mary said pointedly. "Now, I'm going riding. What do you have to say about that?"

"Could I interest you in taking a walk instead?" Matthew tried again. "As accomplished a rider as you are, darling, all that jostling can't be good for the baby."

Mary watched him for a moment, then sighed.

"Fine. You win," Mary said, patting her stomach. "But I'm agreeing for the sake of my daughter, not for you."

"As you wish. I'll thank you anyway," Matthew laughed, pulling her close and kissing her cheek. Mary grumbled, but returned his embrace. "We can go visit Diamond and bring him some carrots if you like."

"He prefers apples, but yes, we can stop by there first on our walk," Mary relented.

"May I help you change clothes?" Matthew whispered, smirking at her.

"I suppose I should be flattered that my husband desires me at all times of the day," Mary shook her head ruefully. "Though there are only a few hours left before the gong, Matthew."

"I'm well aware," Matthew smiled, taking her hand again and guiding her upstairs. "I can be efficient. It'll be as though we're back at Grantham House and I'm only home for lunch."

Mary elbowed him slightly and blushed. Even though the Great Hall was empty save for them, it was quite scandalous how easily he spoke of their lovemaking in conversation.

"We'll see how efficient you are," Mary smiled, pleased at her husband's blush as they went up to their bedroom.

Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, March 1918

"You're staring, Matthew," Mary smiled, looking down at the ground as they walked.

"And if I am? A husband should be permitted to gaze longingly at his wife; particularly when she is wearing such a lovely hat," Matthew teased.

Mary glanced at him with a playful smile. "I'm never going to hear the end of you winning me this hat in the auction, am I?"

"Well, I only think it fair that when you accept compliments for it, that it be pointed out just how you came about it exactly," Matthew shrugged.

"Isn't it enough that your wife is current with the latest fashion?" Mary joked. "Besides, this shade of blue doesn't quite match your eyes, so it wouldn't be obvious that you'd bought it for me."

Matthew laughed as they continued on, Anna following behind them with George holding her hand.

"You do like it though, don't you?" Matthew asked.

"What do you think? I'm wearing it, aren't I?" Mary smiled.

"Here in the country, yes," Matthew nodded. "But when we return to London and all of Society is watching, perhaps you won't be so generous."

"Well, don't worry about that. If I grow bored of it, I'll pass it on to Edith or Sybil, so it will still get some use," Mary said indifferently.

She laughed as Matthew rolled his eyes at her.

"It has been a while since I've seen a travelling fair," Matthew said.

"They probably haven't been as lucrative with the War going on," Mary replied. "This one is a bit different though. Papa is having part of the takings donated to the Red Cross. It's not as big as an event in London, but every bit counts."

"Every bit most certainly does," Matthew smiled, squeezing her hand.

They walked about, looking at different stalls selling knickknacks of different shapes and sizes. Mary smiled as they went. This was exactly what she pictured for them – walking through the Village with her husband and son, an example of the nobility of the House of Grantham, presiding over their future kingdom.

"Candy floss! Look, Mary!" Matthew exclaimed. He released her hand and turned around, holding his arms out as Anna stared at him in horror.

"Come, George!" he smiled, taking the boy's hand from Anna and lifting him up on to his shoulders. "Come see!"

George held on to Matthew's blond hair and shrieked happily as they went over to look at the large bags of pink confection. Mary rolled her eyes and watched them, stunned into silence.

"Master George does look quite happy, Milady," Anna suggested.

"Yes, he always is happy in the arms of his Papa," Mary sighed. "They're like playmates more than father and son sometimes."

"I think it's sweet," Anna smiled. "It makes Mr. Crawley seem more normal."

Mary smiled at the comment.

"There you are. Now share some with Anna," Matthew directed, passing George back to Mary's lady's maid.

George held out a clump of candy floss and Anna thanked him for it. Matthew took Mary's hand again and they continued on.

"I can't be stoic around candy, you know that," Matthew apologized.

"You always are prepared with an excuse at the ready, aren't you?" Mary said.

"All right, beginning now I shall be the perfect English gentleman," Matthew said, raising his chin and sniffing the air.

Mary shook her head at his antics, then smiled as she glanced across the square to a booth on the other side.

"Fancy a go, darling?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the booth.

Matthew looked in the same direction and laughed. "What scheme is this?"

"No scheme at all," Mary said innocently. "I know you enjoy these types of games for commoners."

"I suppose now you will be proposing some stakes?" Matthew said knowingly as he escorted her over to the Coconut Saloon – a stall where bottles were set up at the far end and customers were given three balls to try and knock them down.

"Well it would make the game more interesting," Mary smiled as Matthew paid for each of them to play.

"Very well, what shall be the prize?" Matthew asked.

Mary made a show of holding the balls and thinking for a moment.

"If I win, you must do what I say for the rest of our stay here. No picking up your son and running around like a juvenile in public, no scaring Nanny half to death by removing him from the nursery without telling her, no reading him stories without me, and especially no leaving his blocks all over the floor for Granny to trip over."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "I told you I thought I had picked them all up," he grumbled.

"Do we have terms?" she asked sweetly.

"Hold on," he said, stepping towards her and lowering his voice. "When I win, you, my beautiful wife, will do everything that I say for the balance of our stay here. You will allow me free reign with regard to our son, and with regard to you. I will be permitted to make any request that I wish and you will comply. Anything that I wish, Mary."

Mary swallowed, blushing at his innuendo.

"Fine," she said bravely.

"Then let's begin," Matthew said gesturing for her to approach the counter. He turned and winked at George, who was holding on to Anna and watching with great interest.

Matthew smiled as he threw his first ball and knocked off the top bottle. His mind raced with all manner of salacious demands that he would be making of Mary beginning that very evening. Though he would never force her to do anything she didn't want to, the idea of having her indulge all of his desires was fiercely arousing.

He was shaken from his fantasies at the sound of the bottles Mary was aiming at collapse in a heap.

"The Lady wins!" the booth attendant called out.

Matthew looked at Mary in surprise.

"That would be one for me," she grinned.

"One for you," Matthew mumbled, turning back to the counter.

Matthew eventually stopped after Mary won three of the next five rounds. He sighed and took her in his arms, shaking his head at her smug expression.

"Well?" she asked.

"You win. Well done," Matthew said, kissing her cheek.

"Anna," Mary called, stepping out of his hold. "You can go and join the others and enjoy yourself. Mr. Crawley will be watching George."

Anna smiled and thanked her Mistress before passing George to his Papa.

"Now, in a dignified and composed fashion, we can go show him the petting zoo," Mary smirked.

"Yes, darling," Matthew said, shaking his head ruefully.

"Learn this lesson, George," Mary said, smiling down at her son. "Mama is not to be trifled with."