1897
"Mama!" six year old Lady Mary Crawley shouted from the top of the staircase. "Mama, come quickly!"
In her room, Lady Grantham was startled by the urgent tone of her eldest daughter's calling. She glanced towards two year old Sybil, playing in the corner with a few toys that Rosamund had sent as belated second birthday presents.
Cora sighed. "O'Brien, would you be a doll and go check on Mary? She sounds awfully upset."
O'Brien put one last bobby pin in Cora's hair to secure it tightly. "If you want to go check, I could watch over Sybil. It really isn't a problem, m'lady."
Cora smiled up at her handmaid. "That's okay, I'd rather watch over Sybil. She's getting quite adventurous lately; I wouldn't want to trouble you with her. And Mary's getting to the age where everything must be a dramatic scene, so I'm sure it's nothing."
"Yes, m'lady," O'Brien mumbled. She cursed to herself quietly as she closed Lady Grantham's bedroom door.
"Ms. O'Brien, I know you weren't referring to Her Ladyship in those words," a deep voice resonated behind her. The countess's handmaid turned around slowly, praying that it was not Lord Grantham. Fortunately, it was only Carson.
"My apologies, Mr. Carson," she mumbled as she headed for the girls' rooms. "It was nothing. Her Ladyship asked me to check on Lady Mary."
Carson nodded. "I see. I'll be in my office should you need anything."
O'Brien did not reply as she turned back around and made her way to the sound of Lady Mary's shouting. "Mama, Mama, where are you? Come quickly, please!"
"What's the matter, m'lady?" O'Brien asked the six year old in monotone. The fact that she had to refer to a spoiled little girl that was less than a sixth of her age as "m'lady" disgusted her to her core.
The teary-eyed brunette sniffed. "O'Brien, where's Mama?"
"She's watching over Lady Sybil, m'lady. She sent me to see what was wrong."
Mary sniffed. "Edith is being mean. She scratched my arm," she cried, shoving up her dress sleeve to reveal a small red scrape no longer than a fingernail.
O'Brien was equally amused and annoyed with Mary's dramatics. "I'm sure Lady Edith did not mean to hurt you. She's only five years old, you know."
Mary stomped her small foot on the ground. "Everyone always sides with Edith. No one ever takes my side. Not even Mama. She doesn't care, she's too busy with Sybil all the time."
O'Brien was antsy to get away from the angry little girl. "Maybe yo should talk to your Mama about it. She'll reassure you that you are just as loved as Lady Edith and Lady Sybil."
Mary huffed but obliged, running across the house to her mother's bedroom. O'Brien, satisfied, rushed back downstairs before another Crawley asked a favor of her.
Mary burst into her mother's room. Lady Grantham calmly turned around and smiled. "Mary, I thought we taught you that it's rather rude to enter without knocking."
"Sorry," Mary mumbled. "Mama, do you love Sybil more than me?"
Cora looked up at her eldest daughter, appalled. "Of course not, Mary, I love all of you very much."
Mary sniffed. "But why do you spend more time with Sybil?"
Cora patted a spot on the bed next to her for Mary to sit down. "Mary, darling, Sybil is still too young to do things on her own. She needs my help, and your father's. You are a big girl now, and I'm very proud of you for being so independent." The both looked over at two year old Sybil, who was wobbling across the room. Ever since she'd learned to walk she'd been harder to catch than ever. "Mary, Sybil is your little sister," Cora began. For once, Mary was silent. "You have to promise that you'll look after her, and help her if she needs it in the future. You two have to stick together. You're the oldest, and that gives you many responsibilities, including helping Sybil learn how to do things. You have to be a role model for her, understand?"
Mary sighed. "Yes, Mama. May I leave now?"
Cora smiled. "Of course."
Mary closed the door slowly and then sprinted towards her own room. She knew it wasn't ladylike to do so, but she had to move quickly. She grabbed one of her larger bags and threw some clothes inside. Inside of her small head, her young brain was racing for what else she needed to pack. Food, she thought, and I'll need money.
Mary had never been downstairs in the servants' and maids' corridors, but she knew that it was necessary to get the things she needed. Her large brown eyes grew even wider when she opened the door to the stairs going downwards; she was intrigued to know what went on while the service were not serving and dressing her family.
She was rather disappointed, however, when she saw that the walls were not as intricately decorated as the ones upstairs were; in fact, they were not decorated at all. No paintings of old people, no impressive chandeliers. Mary's thin eyebrows rose, but she shook her head and continued onwards.
She followed the delicious smell of chicken and eventually came across the kitchen. Luckily, Mrs. Patmore was nowhere to be seen. She opened every cupboard and finally settled on a few rolls.I can buy some more food later, when I get to the village, she decided.
But then came the problem that was money: where was she to get any? She most certainly could not steal; that was not an option.
But she could always ask.
She found her way to Carson's office; he had always been her favorite. He was always very nice to her, whereas the rest of the staff seemed very short with her at times. She contemplated knocking but knew she hadn't the time. She opened the door and stepped in.
Carson looked up from his paperwork and was taken aback. "Lady Mary?"
She stood up as straight as she could. "Mr. Carson, I've decided to run away, and I wonder if I might take some of the silver to sell."
Mr. Carson processed this for a moment and then resisted the urge to chuckle. "Well, that could be very awkward for His Lordship. Suppose I give you sixpence to spend in the village instead?"
Mary shrugged. "Very well," she said. Then she remembered something that her father said about the integrity of purchasing things. "But you must make sure to charge me interest."
Carson smiled. "That won't be necessary, my lady," he said kindly.
"Well, I must pay you back," she said, troubled. She walked over to Carson and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you ever so much, Carson," Mary said excitedly, skipping out of the room. "I'll be sure to visit you when I am older!"
Carson chuckled when she left the room. He knew she would not get very far, what with the handmaids running around to get the dining room ready before dinner. He could not seem to shake the smile from his aging face.
Mary threw the money into her bag with the rolls and crumpled clothes. She snuck past the hurrying servants and butlers to the front door and slipped outside before anyone could see her.
Mary's little heart was pounding a mile a minute. She'd done it; she'd gotten out of the house unnoticed. She began to grow more nervous as she stepped onto the gravel in front of the massive estate. The crunch underneath her was both thrilling and anxiety inducing; she had never been outside without Mama, Papa, or her nurse Vera. This had been an afternoon of firsts, and the six year old began to rethink her plan. She didn't even know how to get off of he massive property, let alone to town. What would she do once she got to town? Catch a train? Get a job? Mary tried to picture her small self working at a market or driving a carriage. She giggled.
Although apprehensive, Mary pushed aside her worries and set off, her small periwinkle dress flapping in he cool breeze. As she began to walk, Mary saw a small figure leaning against the wall with its hands, far on the other side of Downton Abbey, near one of the side doors. She squinted; it looked the size of a toddler...
"Sybil!" Mary gasped. What was her sister doing outside, without guidance? Mary dropped her bag and ran over to her adventurous younger sister. "What on earth are you doing out here?" She took Sybil's hand and led her to the door to the study. "Papa must have left it open," she figured aloud. She sat down on one of the study's couches and Sybil followed suit, climbing up onto the couch.
"You scared me half to death, didyou know that?" Mary said sternly, copying the tone her mother used often.
Sybil shrugged. "Sowwy, Mawy," she said, and leaned over to give her older sister a hug. Mary wrapped her arms around her and put her chin on top of her head.
Carson walked into the room. He smiled when he saw the scene playing out before him. "Lady Mary? I thought you'd be gone by now."
Mary shook her head. "I've decided that I'm not going to run away anymore."
Carson grinned. "Good for you, m'lady. Now, let's get you upstairs so that O'Brien can get you dressed for dinner."
a/n another chapter because these are already written and i couldn't resist haha (if you noticed the carson part was talked about in the show a couple seasons ago then congrats you're a downton abbey nerd) remember to review thanks!