Chapter Seventy
Checkmate
Back in the panelled splendour of the Drawing Room, for a moment nobody said anything at all. Yet, despite the tension, the room seemed strangely still. Matthew glanced shyly over to where Mary was standing and was warmed by her smile. Cora was clearly embarrassed and, sensing her cousin's distress, Isobel reached forward and gently squeezed her hand comfortingly in an open and touching display of solidarity, while Edith moved to stand by the fireplace, in the place vacated by her father, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. As for the Dowager Countess, she sat, as imperious as ever, her back ramrod straight, on the very edge of her chair, and, in an evident display of annoyance, tapped the floor with the ferrule of her ebony cane.
For the earl of Grantham to have left the room while his guests were still present, even if they were all members of his own family, was, whatever had occasioned his abrupt departure, a breach of social etiquette; was simply inexcusable.
"Well" said Violet at length, "I think all of that went rather well, don't you?" At her words, the Dowager Countess suddenly found herself the focus of everyone's attention, as no doubt she had intended. The corners of her mouth twitched, and she broke into a radiant and wholly unexpected smile.
With a delighted and surprising chuckle, slowly, Violet Crawley glanced round the room at the rest of those present, her cool grey eyes moving slowly from face to face, seemingly expecting approbation from one and all, but, in that, at least for the moment, she was to be disappointed, for none was forthcoming. If Violet was disappointed, however, she gave no indication.
Matthew frowned, evidently perplexed, Cora and Isobel both exchanged surprised glances, and Mary looked questioningly across at her grandmother. Of them all, only Edith seemed to sense what all this had been about, and it was she who spoke next.
"All the world's a stage" she said softly.
"Precisely my dear" said her grandmother. "I am gratified to see that your last governess managed to instil in you some understanding of the Bard's works".
"Whatever do you mean, granny?" asked Mary of her grandmother, now genuinely perplexed.
"What I mean, Mary, my dear, is that tonight, finally, and almost at the eleventh hour, we have at last obtained your father's agreement for Sybil and her husband to come back here to Downton. After all, wasn't that what this evening's proceedings were about?"
Violet smiled; in turn looked questioningly again at everyone else in the room. Her smile broadened and for the rest of those present here this evening in Downton Abbey's magnificent Drawing Room, for Cora, for Mary, for Isobel, and for Matthew, the penny suddenly dropped, as it had done already for Edith, and just as suddenly, there were smiles all round.
"So that whole scene..." began Cora.
"Indeed" said Violet crisply. "I would have said that it was worthy of your Mr. Barrymore!"
The analogy was not lost on Cora, but evidently it was on Matthew.
"Who is Mr. Barrymore?"
"A very fine American actor" said his mother by way of explanation.
"Only half American" said Violet sharply. "Thankfully, his father was British".
"But which half?" asked Isobel archly.
"The better half of course" said Violet tartly, glaring at Isobel.
Across the room, Matthew, stifling an urge to laugh out loud, snorted, and in the process earned a reproving glare from Violet. Suitably chastised, Matthew looked down at the floor.
"And as for my son Robert's ridiculous notion that darling Sybil and Bran ..." Violet paused. "Forgive me, of course I mean Sybil and Tom. If Robert believes they will simply be unable to travel over to England from Ireland because he blithely assumes they do not have the means to do so, well, let him think that if he wants". Violet chuckled with evident and obvious merriment.
"But, mother dear, you heard what Robert said. He expressly forbade us all to send them any money" said Cora.
Violet nodded her head emphatically.
"Us, yes". The Dowager Countess's smile broadened.
"So then surely..." began Cora.
With the help of her cane, brushing aside Matthew's offer of assistance, the Dowager Countess rose stiffly to her feet, slowly crossed the room, and stood with her back to the fireplace.
"My dear Cora" said Violet with an uncharacteristic and unexpected display of forbearance and patience, looking down at her daughter-in-law with something akin to pity, "as I have said to you many times before, I continue to make allowances for you because by birth you are an American. That, of course, places you at a singular disadvantage. However, you have now lived here in England for some considerable time, so I would venture to suggest that even you must be aware ... there are more ways than one to skin the proverbial cat!"
A moment later, and the Drawing Room door suddenly opened and for but an instant everyone held their collective breaths. For Robert to come back into the room now would spell utter disaster. So, when it was seen to be only Carson who entered, there was a collective and audible sigh of relief.
However, if the butler noticed the palpable tension existing in the room upon his entrance and then its equally obvious release, he gave no sign of noticing either. Carson's dignified features retained their customary inscrutability and, instead, and in the most prosaic of tones, he simply addressed himself to the Dowager Countess.
"The motor is at the door, Your Ladyship. After Pratt has driven you over to the Dower House, he will return directly for both Mrs. and Mr. Crawley and drive them back to Crawley House. I trust that will be in order?" Carson looked enquiringly at Matthew.
"Yes perfectly in order. Thank you Carson" said Matthew. He nodded his head in acceptance.
"Thank you Carson. I too shall be along directly" added Violet calmly.
"Very good, milady". Carson nodded his acquiescence to them both and quietly withdrew, closing the door of the Drawing Room firmly behind him.
Violet glanced round the room again. Then, realising that yet further explanation was necessary, with an audible sigh, she walked slowly back across the room, settled herself back on the very edge of her chair, once again sitting ramrod straight.
"If you are all ready to listen to what it is I have to say, then I shall begin. The Dowager Countess looked slowly around the room, daring anyone to challenge her.
"I wish you would" said Isobel tersely.
Violet inclined her head.
"Tell me, is it just you, or are all Manchester people always so singularly impatient?"
Isobel smiled, said nothing.
"Sometimes, Cousin Violet, but not always; I think it's something to do with the weather" explained Matthew, coming briskly to his mother's aid and trying desperately once again to keep a straight face.
"The weather?" asked Violet imperiously.
"Yes, you see it rains rather a lot in Manchester and that being so most people don't have time for long explanations. Manchester is on the west side of the Pennines and ..."
"It may surprise you, young man, but I can assure you that I am familiar with English geography. I have heard of London, of Ripon, and of York. I have even heard of Manchester and" with a glance at Cora "of Washington. But, what has the rain to do with conversations in Manchester?" asked Violet sounding genuinely perplexed, although from what had transpired so far this evening, it was all too evident that no-one could be sure precisely what it was the Dowager Countess might be thinking.
"Well, Cousin Violet, if people stood around the streets in Manchester, having lengthy conversations, they might end up rather wet" said Matthew doing his very best to try and keep a straight face.
Violet grimaced; sense that Matthew was having a joke at her expense.
"Well, it isn't raining in here. So young man, if you have quite finished with your explanation as to the vagaries of the English climate?" asked Violet peremptorily.
"Yes Cousin Violet, I have" said Matthew nodding, and assuming a suitably contrite expression. Seeing Matthew's mortification at the hands of her grandmother, across the room Mary herself stifled a laugh, something which did not go unnoticed by the Dowager Countess.
Violet smiled a thin smile.
"Good. Well then, let me begin by addressing my remarks to both Mary and Edith. While your dearest papa is possessed of many fine qualities, I have to say that throughout his entire life, even as a small boy, he has never been someone who willingly embraced change of any kind. He still isn't. And, while you may all think that for me the world ended in 1901 with the death of our own dear late queen, you are all very much mistaken. I am many things, but I am not stupid. Since the war, society has changed; what once seemed constant is no longer so. And whilst many of the changes may be regrettable, your dear father will simply have to come to terms with what is now the status quo".
Edith nodded emphatically.
"Edith, dear, do stop nodding your head like that, you are making me feel quite giddy" said Violet. Edith complied immediately.
"Granny, Tom really is a very fine young man" said Mary, her eyes bright and shining.
"Mary, my dear, I have no doubt of that at all. Why do you think I seemed to take umbrage at some of the various occurrences which you described here tonight?"
"Seemed to take umbrage?" asked Edith. She looked nonplussed at her grandmother.
"I don't know granny. Why did you?"
"Edith dear, you can be such a goose at times! So as to tease out from both of you every last detail regarding Sybil's husband, to see if he could be found wanting in any way whatsoever".
"That being the case" said Mary cautiously, "what is your verdict on Tom?"
"From what you have both told us all, Tom sounds to be a very fine young man indeed. Mind you, that is to be expected, he was always such a conscientious driver; a perfect ... how was it you described them, Edith?"
"Soul-mates, granny".
"Exactly so; soul mates. They are singularly fortunate to have found one another and, I have to say, in the unlikeliest of settings too!"
"So you don't oppose their marriage?" asked Mary, realisation slowly dawning that their grandmother was now unequivocally on their side in the matter of Sybil and Tom.
"Oppose? No! After all, there is no use crying over spilt milk. What is done is done. Provided the young man continues to take the very greatest care of our darling Sybil ..."
"Oh granny, I know he will" said Mary enthusiastically. "In fact, they'll both look after each other".
Violet smiled; let her grand-daughter's interruption pass without comment.
"If he continues to behave impeccably as he has done so far, then rest assured, whatever Tom may once have been, I am quite prepared to welcome Sybil and her young husband back here to Downton. From what you have said tonight, his conduct over in Dublin, at the Shelbourne Hotel was exemplary, befitting someone of a much higher social position".
At that, Mary's smile broadened considerably. Edith nodded, said nothing, and looked down at the floor, seemingly totally lost in her own thoughts.
"When Sybil and Bra ..." The Dowager Countess paused. "When Sybil and Tom left for Ireland, your dear mama came to see me at the Dower House to see if I could be persuaded to try and make your father see sense, be more understanding of the situation, although at the moment that appears to be a forlorn hope. That is not, of course, to say I approve of the way Sybil and Tom have conducted their liaison, but, I can understand why they did what they did. And while naturally I have the feelings any grandmother would have for her youngest grand-daughter, I also admire them both tremendously too. As I said just now, what is done is done".
Mary smiled. Granny had the feelings any grandmother would have for her youngest daughter. Did she indeed? After all, what she was talking about was love, but her upbringing and British reserve meant that she was unable to admit, even to her own family, of being possessed of such a natural emotion, only in the obliquest of terms.
"You admire Tom and Sybil? Truly?" asked Edith hesitantly; not believing the evidence of her own ears.
"Indeed I do. Is that so hard to understand, Edith? After all, despite all the obstacles placed in their path, they have had the courage to remain true to their own ... affections and convictions!"
"But what about Tom having worked here as chauffeur? Granny, you of all people know that those living round here will talk".
"Then let them. Mary, such things have happened before and no doubt in years to come, if not to us, then undoubtedly for another family of similar social standing to our own, they will happen again. What matters most, is that we as a family stick together. True, there may be gossip here in the county, but if we make no comment and rise above it, then the fact that the youngest daughter of the earl of Grantham married someone who once served this family as its chauffeur, and served it well I might add, will soon become nothing more than a nine days' wonder. That is something, which, when his temper has cooled sufficiently and, metaphorically speaking, the dust has settled, I hope, your dear father will, in a very short space of time, come to understand".
"Now, Mary, dear ..."
"Yes granny?"
"You may recall that earlier this evening that I asked you if you had ever learned how to play chess?"
"Yes, of course I do granny, but I but I still don't see what that has to do with what has happened here tonight".
Violet sighed
"Honestly Mary, you are manifestly not stupid, so do not act as if you are".
Matthew grinned earning a reproachful look from Mary who looked quizzically again at her grandmother.
"Well then ..."
"Chess, Mary my dear, so my late father-in-law, your great grandfather the third earl, once told me, is a game of strategy. As you are singularly unaware of the nuances of the game, permit me to explain. The objective is to force your opponent's king into a position where he cannot move. This evening, singularly and together, we have all managed, eventually, to back your father into a corner, whereby his only option was to accept, albeit grudgingly I admit, the proposition that darling Sybil and her young husband should come back to Downton. And the most amusing part of it all was that your dearest papa did not even appreciate what it was that we were all about!"
At that, Violet stood up, made her crisp farewells to one and all. At the door of the Drawing Room she paused, turned back to Edith, spoke softly for her ears only.
"I received your note this morning my dear" said Violet "It all sounds very mysterious indeed and with my liking for the stories of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, you know I always love a good mystery. I shall be delighted to see you tomorrow at four o'clock, at the Dower House, for afternoon tea. I can assure you that we won't be disturbed. Have you the book of which you spoke?"
Edith nodded. "It's up in my room".
"Good, then four o'clock tomorrow afternoon and bring the book with you". At that, Violet cleared her throat audibly and now spoke louder so that all present could hear what it was that she was saying.
"As to your trip on the tram over in Dublin, Edith my dear ..."
"Yes, granny?" said Edith nervously; unable to disguise her all too obvious apprehension as to what it was her grandmother might say next.
"Back in 1880, your grandfather and I did very much the same thing, although that was in York, when the new tramway there first opened. I have to tell you that we both thoroughly enjoyed the experience!"
And, with that, without further ado, and without so much as a backwards glance, with her ebony cane tapping smartly on the oak boards of the floor, Violet Dowager Countess of Grantham, swept imperiously out of the Drawing Room bound for the entrance hall and her waiting motor.
For a while no-one said anything. At length, it fell to Matthew to break the silence.
"Blimey, if only we'd had your grandmother with us out in France, she'd have made mincemeat of the Germans!"
Matthew's apposite and pithy comment earned him the warmest of smiles from Mary and had the instant effect of reducing them all to tears of helpless laughter.