Dower House, Downton Village, Yorkshire, England, March 1918
"Mr. Matthew Crawley," the butler announced. He motioned for Matthew to go into the sitting room.
"Ah, Matthew," Violet smiled politely. "Thank you for coming."
Matthew walked into the room and glanced about quickly. He frowned in confusion, then smiled politely back at the Dowager Countess.
"Cousin Violet," he greeted her, taking a seat across from hers. "I must be the first to arrive."
"Oh, it's just the two of us today," Violet smiled. "Tea will be served imminently."
She rested her hands on her cane, holding it in front of her. Matthew swallowed slightly. Between her rigid posture and her piercing eyes, he felt as though he was sitting before a Judge, rather than an old woman.
Violet remained silent as tea was served to both of them. She waited until the servants had left the room before she took a careful sip, keeping her eyes on Matthew the entire time.
"Forgive me, Cousin Violet," Matthew said carefully. "I thought that Mary and her sisters would be meeting us here as well. If I knew that you wanted to speak to me alone…"
"Then you would have crafted a polite excuse to avoid it, or at least you would have waited until your mother was here so that you had an ally alongside you," Violet interrupted. "Be at ease, Matthew. You're here for a pleasant visit, not an inquisition."
Matthew nodded, still not entirely relaxed as he sipped his tea. Violet Crawley was a formidable woman and all the things that Mary had told him about her had not done her justice. She could be witty and sarcastic and cutting all in the same phrase, but he wasn't thrown off by that. Matthew was used to having strong-willed women in his life. First his mother, then Mary. No, he was more intimidated by the place he knew that the Dowager Countess held in Mary's heart. She was the one person in the entire family who cared about Mary the most. She didn't only see Mary's good side, like Sybil did. She didn't only focus on Mary's mistakes, like Edith or Robert. She knew Mary and all that she was capable of, and while Matthew did not need anyone's approval, he found that he valued Cousin Violet's opinion more than most.
"I understand that you are taking your family back to London?" Violet asked.
"Yes," Matthew nodded, deciding this was a safe topic. "I think Mary and George will come back after the Season and prepare for the coming of the baby, but they'll spend the next months in London with me."
"Cora intends to give Mary a more prominent role in this Season's party," Violet declared. "With both Mary and Edith married, the attention will be divided, and Mary's reputation is not nearly as tainted as in previous years. Are you familiar with the duties that she will have as a hostess?"
Matthew frowned. "I imagine she'll be greeting guests and mingling? She's quite good at doing both."
"She is," Violet nodded. "And she won't be left in the corner of the salon as in past years. As such, I will count on you to do your duty."
"My duty?" Matthew repeated.
"Yes. You know how these parties work. The women are the centre of attention, and the husbands keep a respectable distance away, remaining stoic and supportive, and most of all, silent," Violet said pointedly.
"You don't want me to talk to Mary?" Matthew frowned.
"No, that's not it," Violet shook her head. "But you must also not monopolize her time."
"Very well," Matthew said slowly, confused as to what she was implying.
"Good, then that's settled," Violet smiled, taking another sip of tea.
"You aren't inviting any special guests to the party that I should know about, are you, Cousin Violet?" Matthew asked.
"Oh, no, my dear," Violet chuckled. "You need not worry about us sending in an Italian nobleman. We've learned our lesson well."
"I'm glad to hear it," Matthew smiled.
"We have no intention of disturbing you, Matthew," Violet continued. "Divorce is simply not an option for our kind of people. I believe that you and Mary will spend many years together. Marriage is a long business, after all."
"Mary once told me the same thing," Matthew smirked.
"And she was right," Violet nodded. "She's a pragmatist, that way. She rarely enters into anything without her eyes being wide open."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Matthew said.
"And so you should," Violet smiled. "I will admit that when you revealed your marriage, I was quite suspicious of both your motives and the precise circumstances that led you to take Mary as your wife."
"You were," Matthew nodded. "You and Cousin Cora both, among others."
"Well, it did come as a great shock," Violet said.
"But as you say, marriage is a long business," Matthew said. "Mary is mine now, for better or worse. I suppose that the family has accepted it, finally."
"We have," Violet agreed. "Some with more enthusiasm than others."
"I hope that I've convinced you that I can give Mary the life she deserves," Matthew said. "I'd like to think that you're on our side."
"I'm on Mary's side, always," Violet replied.
Matthew nodded.
"And Mary is in love with you," Violet smirked.
Matthew blinked in surprise.
"I probably should have guessed years ago when you first arrived," Violet continued. "Using James and Patrick's death was a convenient alibi, but it did strike me as odd that Mary chose to return at the precise moment that the new heir was unveiled."
Matthew remained quiet.
"It did seem as though Mary had settled into her life in Manchester. If she hated the way she was treated by Lady Philomena and others, then one would expect she would have tried to return earlier. And when she did return, she quite kept to herself. I didn't see the level of ire that I expected from her. I didn't see a plan of any kind that would explain her coming back. Of course I didn't realize she had accomplices in our midst."
Matthew finally smiled. "We did consider involving you from the beginning, if that means anything to you."
"It doesn't," Violet shrugged. "But thank you for saying it."
"I see her now, Matthew," Violet said. "I see her and she is so full of life, so different from the woman who left here all those years ago. I see the way the she looks at you; the way she looks at your son; the way that she acts around you. There is a warmth to her when you're around, Matthew. I can't say I've ever seen her so happy, even when she was a child."
Matthew blushed.
"I never imagined that my life would be like this," he said. "And it's all because of her."
"You would do well to remember that, Matthew," Violet said.
"Won't you be here to remind me?" he retorted.
"Rest assured that I will be," Violet smiled genuinely.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, April 1918
"Mmm, lower," Mary smiled, closing her eyes and leaning back against Matthew.
Matthew smiled and moved the sponge down her side and across her lower back. He pressed against her wet skin, sliding the sponge back and forth.
"Better?" he asked.
"Mmm," she nodded.
"I'm going to wash your front now," he said innocently.
"Try and stay focused this time," she teased, keeping her eyes closed.
"I am focused!" he said defensively.
"Focused on the washing part, not focused on me," Mary retorted.
He rolled his eyes. He ran the soap against the sponge. Once he was satisfied with the lather, he trailed the sponge along her shoulders, then down her chest, moving his hand in circles.
"How are preparations coming for next months' party?" he asked. "Please do rely upon me if you need to. I don't want you taking all of this on yourself."
"You're a darling," Mary smiled, lifting her hand out of the water and patting his knee. "But you're rather out of your element when it comes to Society parties, I'm afraid. Everything is all right. Mama is dealing with most of it. She's just having me review the guest list and the theme and decorations, that sort of thing."
"Are you looking forward to it?" he asked, stroking her belly.
"I am, rather," Mary smiled. "I don't particularly see it as the act of redemption that Granny does, but I do enjoy a good party."
"I'll be quite jealous, I'm afraid," Matthew chuckled. "All eyes will be upon you. You'll look gorgeous."
"I'll be very obviously showing that I'm carrying your child, Matthew," Mary huffed. "You have nothing to be concerned about at all. All of Society is well aware of your claim to me, without even seeing the proof of it for themselves."
Matthew laughed with satisfaction.
"Very well. I will proudly stand back and admire you while I beam with pride," he said.
"You've no need to be worried, darling. Granny was just teasing you, you know," Mary said, covering his hands with hers as he touched her.
"Yes, I know," he nodded. "She can just be rather intimidating, is all."
"Well, there's no getting around that," Mary laughed. "Women in our family can be rather imposing when we want to be."
"I suppose I have no chance with this one then, should she be a girl," Matthew smiled, kissing Mary's cheek as he washed her stomach gently.
"None whatsoever," Mary smiled, turning her head and kissing him softly as they enjoyed the warm bath together.
Room 40, Admiralty Building, Whitehall, London, England, May 1918
Matthew grunted in frustration as he handed his latest decoded message to one of the office girls to take over to Nigel. He flicked his pencil through his fingers, exhaling loudly as he stared at the pile of papers sitting on his desk.
"All right there, Matthew?" Reverend Montgomery asked, coming over to his desk.
"Yes, sir," Matthew nodded. "I'm just feeling a bit frustrated, is all. It seems things have been stalled for months, if not longer."
"Matthew, surely you understand the pattern of this War, by now?" Reverend Montgomery smiled kindly. "There won't be any glorious, decisive blow that announces victory for either side. It will rather be a sequence of events that finally leads to one force deciding to capitulate to the other. Victory will be declared in a boardroom somewhere, not on the battlefield."
"I know," Matthew said. "But that doesn't help as each day passes and we continue on in all this."
"It could be worse," Nigel said, coming over and handing Matthew a document. "We could be at the Front."
Reverend Montgomery laughed.
Matthew looked over the paper. He blinked several times, then looked up at Nigel.
"I'm shocked," he said slowly.
"Manfred von Richthofen," Nigel said. "Also known as the Red Baron. Shot down over Moriancourt Ridge. Pronounced dead upon discovery by the Australians."
"There, Matthew," Reverend Montgomery said. "The foremost pilot of the German Air Force, shot and killed in combat. Will that do for a harbinger of victory?"
"It's still just one man, in the end," Matthew shrugged.
"Precisely. Just one man, but it's a step. One step to be followed by many others. The Germans have been throwing everything they have at us in the past months. They took back Passchendaele Ridge, but it seems we've now stymied their advance. The Americans will be here in full force next month. Small steps of progress, Matthew. Blow by blow, we will win this War, God willing."
Matthew nodded and the men returned to their work.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, May 1918
"I was told that the Yanks are sending 10,000 men per day," the man said. "Surely that must turn the tide in our favour?"
"One would hope so," Matthew nodded. "The Germans are terribly close to Paris at the moment, so we must pray that the arriving reinforcements are enough."
"God, I hate the idea of being beholden to the Americans," another man scoffed. "But after years of War, we can't be choosy about our allies, I suppose. First the Russians rolled over, and now if Paris falls the French will be much weaker. I should hate to see us fighting the good fight alone."
"Exactly," Matthew agreed. "Considering all the countries massed against us under the German banner, the defence of our realm is far more important than who ultimately gets the credit, surely?"
The men nodded in agreement.
"Congratulations, Matthew," another man said. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't aware that Lady Mary was expecting."
"Thank you," Matthew smiled, glancing across the room at his wife. "I'm afraid we've been rather remiss about sending around notices and such. I've left all of that in the hands of my mother-in-law. I'm sure there will be a proper announcement in September when the baby arrives."
Mary was smiling and laughing as she entertained a group of women. It was somewhat new for Matthew to see her being adored and holding court at one of these functions. Even after they announced their marriage years ago, they were never on display at any events. Between the War curtailing a large number of social gatherings, and the two of them preferring smaller dinners with friends who they knew were on their side, there were not many opportunities to open their doors to all of Society. Now, watching Mary's face light up as she joked and gossiped with the guests, Matthew grinned proudly. He always assumed that they would host parties at his home in Manchester, entertaining partners and associates from his law firm one night and hospital donors and patrons the next. Grantham House was a much larger venue, of course, but he knew that Mary would be a wonderful hostess, and indeed watching her now only confirmed it for him.
Sir Anthony was speaking to a group of older men across the room and Matthew remembered that he had not properly spoken to his brother-in-law since Sir Anthony and Edith had arrived earlier in the week.
"Excuse me, gentlemen. Please enjoy your evening," Matthew said as he left the group and walked across the room.
"Matthew," a voice called, and Matthew stopped and turned. He automatically put a smile on his face whenever he heard his name, trying to appear the supportive husband and give the best impression he could to the guests. When he realized who had stopped him though, his smile was immediately replaced by a careful nod.
"Lord Merton," Matthew said. "I trust you are enjoying your evening?"
"Very much, Matthew, thank you," Lord Merton smiled. "Lord and Lady Grantham always have the most elegant functions during the Season."
"They do," Matthew replied, hoping the man would release him so he could be on his way.
"My heartiest congratulations to you and Lady Mary," Lord Merton continued. "Children are such a blessing in these trying times, aren't they?"
"They are," Matthew nodded, offering nothing further.
"I am so very pleased to see you and my Goddaughter settled and well," Lord Merton said enthusiastically. "When I took Mary in years ago, I feared for her future. But I stood by her through the storm, knowing that her strength of character would see her to better days, and now here you are!"
"Mary is strong," Matthew said, gritting his teeth behind his closed lips. The nerve of this man to portray himself as having been generous to Mary!
"You know, Matthew, I would very much enjoy hosting you and your family the next time that you return to Manchester. The Crawley name has been so integral to the hospital, you know. It's only fitting that you continue the good work that your father pursued, even if it's from a distance," Lord Merton nodded.
"The funds that my father left to the hospital shall ensure that those he cared about most – the patients – continue to benefit from his legacy, Lord Merton," Matthew said drily. "That is far more important than whether I visit or not."
"Undoubtedly," Lord Merton agreed. "Though perhaps you may wish to consider a more lasting contribution? We're reviewing plans for the next phase of our renovations, and I think your resources would be most helpful in expanding part of the surgical wing. If you covered the construction costs, then I don't see why we shouldn't name that part of the building after your father, so that his name literally is written into the foundation of the hospital itself."
"Perhaps in the future, I will look at such a proposal, but not now," Matthew said. "My focus is on my family, where it belongs, and, as I said, we've already given generously to the hospital in the past."
"Come now, Matthew," Lord Merton shook his head. "Surely you understand the need for action and how important it is that we be decisive and not complacent? Why, what would have happened to your lovely wife had I not stepped forward and taken her in when she arrived in Manchester? If I had merely sat back and waited, debating and mulling over whether or not to answer her call for help, where would she be now?"
"Do not speak of my wife," Matthew frowned, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "You and I both know that you were hardly a friend to her in those days, if you ever were at all."
"How dare you?" Lord Merton sputtered in shock. "It was I who brought her to the hospital in the first place! If not for me…"
"If not for Mary's own strength of character and will to persevere, she would have been locked up in the attic of Lady Philomena's home for all eternity, left to rot like some foul beast," Matthew growled. "Do not try and change history now, Lord Merton. You brought Mary to the hospital to get rid of her, to put her aside and busy her with a job, rather than treat her a Lady of her station deserved. But for my father's intervention, she would have spent her days languishing under Cassandra's whip, and her nights trapped in your sister's prison, which was exactly what you wanted."
Lord Merton's mouth dropped open.
"You never visited Mary during her time in Manchester. Not once. Your own Goddaughter," Matthew snarled, his eyes locked on the older man's. "It was out of fear of a reprisal from Lady Grantham that you took Mary in to begin with. And I use 'taking her in' in the most loosest of definitions, for how you treated her could hardly be deemed generous under any circumstance."
"Thank God that your father is not here to listen to your insolence!" Lord Merton countered. "I suppose I should expect such boorish behaviour from one who has had riches and glory thrust upon him without merit."
"My father knew you well, Lord Merton," Matthew shot back. "Do you think it a mere coincidence that the hospital's share of his Estate was smaller than mine? Do you think he was merely being prudent in establishing a separate, larger fund for my future wife?"
Lord Merton blinked, his eyebrows creasing as he remembered the meeting years ago to hear the reading of Dr. Crawley's Will.
"It was Mary all along," Matthew smiled coldly, watching as realization swept across Lord Merton's face. "My father knew how you treated her. He knew that she triumphed in spite of you, not because of you. Rather than put her at risk and identify her by name in his Will, he made provision for my wife, knowing full well that she had already blessed me by marrying me. The woman that you practically threw aside without a second thought inherited more of my father's Estate than your hospital did, because my father never trusted you to spend money properly, and never believed you would put any gift to the hospital to proper use. So no, Lord Merton, we will not be supporting the hospital at this time, or in the future. We'll establish scholarships at universities that my father believed in, and we'll donate to the Red Cross and to programs in Manchester designed to help the poor pay for medical expenses. We'll give money to those interested in helping people, not in boosting their own reputation."
"You…you…" Lord Merton gasped.
"But, if you want a benefactor for your hospital expansion, perhaps you should ask my wife for a contribution?" Matthew suggested. "The money that my father left to Mary was invested wisely and prudently, leaving her with a rather tidy sum, all in her own name, all under her own authority. I doubt she will want to help any cause that involves you stealing the credit and basking in the adulation, but one never knows. The 'Lady Mary Crawley Surgery Wing' has a certain ring to it."
Lord Merton opened and closed his mouth several times like a bewildered fish.
"Do enjoy your evening, Lord Merton," Matthew nodded, turning and leaving the old man behind.
Afternoon Tea, The Savoy Hotel, Westminster, London, England, June 1918
"Captain Napier," Matthew smiled, shaking Evelyn's hand.
"Evelyn, Matthew, please," Evelyn shook his head. He kissed Mary on the cheek and motioned for them to be seated at the elegantly appointed table.
"How are you doing?" Mary asked as their tea was poured. "Has the move back to London been agreeable for you?"
"Very, although I do miss Lady Sybil telling me to take my pills and Mrs. Crawley admonishing me to do my therapy exercises," Evelyn laughed.
"Don't scare Mary," Matthew shook his head and laughed. "She'll be back in their clutches soon enough."
"Not until August," Mary said pointedly. "You won't be rid of me until then."
"And I am quite grateful that you're staying on until then," Matthew smiled at her.
Evelyn watched them across the table as Matthew poured milk into Mary's tea. When he first saw them together, before their marriage was announced, he felt they looked odd – a tall, blond man and a thin, fair skinned and dark haired woman. Of course, he felt back then that Mary looked far more appropriate next to a man like Evelyn than Matthew, but the more he saw them together, the more he had to admit they were very well matched. It was their eyes. The blue and dark brown contrasted well, and their eyes seemed to be lively and bright when they looked at each other. Indeed, Evelyn could not recall Mary reacting in the same way to anyone else.
"You won't be called back anytime soon, will you?" Matthew asked with concern. "You're still in convalescence, just not at Downton."
"That's right," Evelyn nodded. "I didn't need to occupy one of the beds there, particularly when there were far worse cases requiring your family's excellent care. I've been taking things slowly since I came back home. I expect that I will be needed in the fall, but no sooner than that. My men have all been reassigned to other battalions, those who survived anyway."
Mary nodded in understanding, sipping her tea.
"Have you heard anything?" Evelyn asked delicately. "I had heard the last German offensive towards Paris was snuffed out."
"The French and the Americans stopped them in only four days," Matthew nodded. "They never reached the city. My superiors think the Germans are becoming desperate, and that they've overcommitted their forces, leaving them vulnerable to a counter offensive. There was word that the Austrians were deserting. They were beaten rather soundly by the Italians weeks ago. We'll see, I suppose. I've learned to be cynical regarding most news. I never seem to have the full context to evaluate it properly."
"My husband and I have switched roles, as it were," Mary smiled at Matthew. "He's the brooding pessimist and all I see are rainbows and sunshine."
Evelyn laughed.
"And so you should, darling," Matthew smiled, patting her hand. "Our child should come into this world amidst the happiest of moods."
"How is Viscount Branksome? Papa hasn't had time to call upon him as of yet, I know. I expect they'll be going to watch the races at some point this Season?" Mary asked.
"Undoubtedly," Evelyn nodded. "Though Papa is feeling rather under the weather lately. He was up coughing half the night last night."
"How awful," Matthew said. "George was rather loud last night as well. Thankfully Nanny was up to the task."
"And neither of us have been sleeping very soundly these days, I'm afraid," Mary shrugged. "This baby has been far fussier than George was. It's taken me ages to get comfortable at night."
"Please tell Lord Grantham that Papa will call upon him when he's recovered," Evelyn nodded. "I can't see him staying down for long."
"Good," Matthew said. "I would hate to see a bout of cough keep Viscount Branksome away from his beloved races."
They all smiled and continued chatting over tea, scones and other pastries.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, July 1918
"Ladies and gentlemen," Robert smiled, looking around the room. "It is my esteemed pleasure to present to you – Mr. and Mrs. John Bates."
The family applauded heartily as Bates and Anna came into the room. Both of them blushed in embarrassment as they walked into the centre, accepting the cheers of their employers and fellow servants standing around them.
"Come on, Anna!" Sybil called. "Give him a proper kiss!"
Anna blushed even more and looked over at Bates. Bates raised his eyebrows at her playfully. She nodded and he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly as the family laughed and clapped loudly.
Drinks and hors d'oeuvres were served and the happy couple mingled about with their guests, their duties as servants set aside for the day. Aunt Rosamund had leant her servants to take care of the reception, thereby allowing all the Grantham House staff to share in Anna and Bates' special day.
"Well done, Papa," Mary smiled, raising her glass of water to him. "I dare say this is the first time an Earl of Grantham has hosted the wedding lunch of a servant."
"It certainly didn't happen in your father's time," Cora laughed at her husband.
"Well, Bates was my comrade-at-arms, of course," Robert nodded. "It's the least we could do."
"I agree," Mary nodded, sipping her water.
"How are you doing, dear?" Cora asked Edith. "Are you sleeping any better?"
"I am, thank you," Edith smiled. "Mary told me to use an extra pillow and it's made a world of difference."
Sybil smiled and raised her eyebrow in surprise at the idea of Mary helping Edith.
"Matthew!" Robert smiled as Matthew joined them. "We thought we'd lost you."
"Sorry about that," Matthew said, smiling at Mary. "That was Nigel calling from the office."
"You don't have to go in, do you? Not at this hour, surely?" Mary frowned.
"No, he just wanted to give me an update. It seems that the French and the Americans drove the Germans back from the Marne. They've withdrawn," Matthew said, looking around at the rest of the family.
"That's good news, isn't it?" Cora asked Robert.
"Very good news," Robert nodded. "It means we've survived their push to Paris and are driving them back. We're hoping to counter attack now and weaken them significantly."
"That is good news," Mary smiled. "It's about time that we pushed back."
"My thoughts exactly," Robert smiled at her. "We've been absorbing their attacks for months now and thankfully we've held firm. Now's the time to strike when they're at their lowest."
"Do you think that the end may be coming, then?" Sybil asked.
Matthew held Mary's hand and they all looked over at Bates and Anna laughing as they fed each other cake.
"God knows," Matthew said quietly.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, August 1918
"I should have just stayed in London," Mary rolled her eyes.
"Come now, Mary," Cora shook her head. "Surely you want your baby born at Downton?"
"Not literally!" Mary replied. "I expected Clarkson to deliver her at the hospital and to have her baptised at the Village Church as all of us and George were. But with all these reported cases of the flu and the hospital so busy, I wonder if I wasn't better off staying in the city."
"There's probably more flu patients there," Isobel said. "Besides, Matthew's already on his way. Branson's left to collect him."
"When he hears about our having to deliver the baby here, rather than the hospital, he'll throw me on the next train to London," Mary said pointedly.
"Or to Manchester," Sybil smiled.
"God help us all," Violet smirked.
Isobel smiled at her in understanding.
"Mr. Crawley," Carson announced as Matthew came into the room.
"Cousin Cora, Cousin Violet, Mother, Sybil," Matthew nodded to the circle as he approached.
"Hello, darling," Matthew smiled as he leaned down and kissed Mary on the cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Disturbed," Mary replied. "I've been informed that we'll be delivering the baby here at Downton, rather than the hospital."
"Really? But why?" Matthew asked in surprise, glancing at his mother.
"The hospital is rather overloaded with flu patients at the moment, and Cousin Violet and Cousin Cora think it best if Mary remain here at the house instead," Isobel explained.
"You were a supporter of the idea, as well," Violet said to Isobel.
"I am," Isobel nodded. "I don't think the risk is as strong as they do, but if Mary is comfortable here, there's no reason why we can't have a safe and proper delivery in her bedroom."
"So will Clarkson come up, then?" Matthew asked.
"He will," Isobel nodded. "And Sybil and I will assist. Better to keep the nurses at the hospital out of it. I wouldn't want to steal them away for this."
"I told them that you would probably prefer if we go back to London," Mary looked at him.
"That is an option, I suppose," Matthew nodded. "All that matters is where you are most as ease, darling. We were already planning to stay here until the baby arrives."
"Then that settles it," Cora smiled. "It will be a nice piece of family history – the future Earl and Countess having their second child in these very halls."
"I want a footman to be guarding the stairs," Mary said. "God have mercy on any unsuspecting kitchen maid who wanders in while I'm trying to have this baby."
Cora looked at Isobel with a wry expression and shook her head.
"Lady Mary, Mr. Crawley, Master George has been jumping up and down waiting for his Papa to arrive," Nanny called as she came into the room with George tugging on her hand.
"Pa-pa!" the boy yelled out, releasing Nanny's hand.
"Sybil, can you please?" Mary asked as Matthew was in the midst of putting sugar in his tea cup.
"Come here, George!" Sybil called brightly, getting up from her chair and holding her arms out.
"Aunt Syb-Syb!" George gurgled, running over and falling into his aunt's arms.
"Oof! He's becoming a big boy!" Sybil laughed, picking George up and holding him in her arms.
"He was nearly thirty pounds when we last weighed him," Mary said. "I suspect his Papa has been feeding him all manner of sweets without my knowledge."
"I've only been feeding him what my Papa fed me when I was a toddler," Matthew protested.
"Good lord, then he really is in trouble!" Isobel exclaimed.
Mary and Matthew laughed along with her.
"I do hope this one's a girl," Cora smiled, looking at George. "It will be so nice to have a little princess running around here."
"Well, between Mary and Edith, you're bound to have a granddaughter this year," Isobel smiled.
"Perhaps two," Mary said.
Matthew patted her shoulder affectionately. She reached up and covered her hand with his, smiling as they watched Sybil bounce George in her arms as the little boy laughed and squealed happily.