1901
All around the estate, every maid and even the footmen were bustling to finish cleaning up the messes around the house from the new year's party the night before. It wasn't just a regular dinner party; it was the turning of a new year, the first of the millennium. Needless to say, the Crawleys had invited more than just the Dowager Countess to Downton for the celebration.
"Good morning, Carson," Lord Grantham half-yawned as he entered the dining room, taking a plate from the stack and serving himself from the buffet.
"Good morning, my lord," Carson recited. "I hope you don't mind me asking, my lord, but have Mr. Crawley and his family stayed overnight?"
Lord Grantham nodded. "Indeed, they have. I hope you don't mind, but it was far too late to call for the chauffeur. We had O'Brien and another ladiesmaid make up some rooms, I'm not sure if you were aware."
Carson nodded. "No trouble at all, m'lord. They'll be joining us for breakfast, then?"
Before he could answer, eleven year old Patrick Crawley entered the dining room. "Good morning, Cousin Robert," he greeted Lord Grantham in a mature tone. Lord Grantham held back a chuckle; it was amusing to watch the future heir to the earldom act so manly with a voice that had yet to deepen.
"Good morning, Cousin Patrick. I hope you found your room to be most accommodating. My apologies for anything that was overlooked; it was a very last-minute decision."
Patrick shook his head primly as if he were an Earl already. "None at all. It was very nice."
Edith and Sybil walked in just then, tired expressions on their faces. "Good morning, Papa," they said in unison. Edith blushed when she saw Patrick walking over to place his plate on the table. She rushed to get her breakfast so that she could claim the spot next to Patrick.
"Good morning, girls. Mary's not joining us?"
Six year old Sybil shook her head. "No, she said that she wants a tray brought up to her this morning."
Lord Grantham chuckled at the idea of his eldest daughter sending Sybil down to get her breakfast fetched. "She's beginning to take after her mother. Is she ill or just tired?"
Edith rolled her eyes. "She was upset about something. She yelled at me to go away."
"Maybe that's because you told her she was being lazy," Sybil argued. Edith scoffed, but then composed herself to impress Patrick.
While Lord Grantham read telegrams, Sybil excused herself. Something about her oldest sister's tone earlier that morning was off, and Sybil wondered if she was ill after all. Mary usually could tell before anyone else when Sybil was coming down with something, and Sybil wondered if the talent had reciprocated.
After the long journey up the stairs, she knocked on Mary's door. "Mary," she called in her somewhat high-pitched little girl's voice. "Mary, all you alright?"
"Who is it?" the ten year old called weakly from the other side.
"Sybil."
"Is Edith with you?"
"No, it's only me."
After a moment, the door opened and there stood Mary, her hair still down in a braid and her nightgown still on. She stepped aside for Sybil to enter and then closed the door.
"Papa thinks you're starting to take after Mama, having breakfast in bed," Sybil said, sitting at the foot of the bed while Mary climbed back into the covers. Her tray remained beside her, untouched. "Are you ill?" Sybil asked.
Mary shook her head. "No, but I think I will be." She grabbed Sybil's small hand. "If I tell you something, do you swear to keep it secret?"
"Cross my heart," Sybil promised eagerly. She loved secrets.
Mary sighed. "Last night I overheard Granny talking to Papa and Cousin James. They were talking about me and Cousin Patrick getting married."
"Married? Of course not, Mary, you're only ten."
Mary scoffed. "Not now, silly, when we're older. But it sounds like it's already finalized. We aren't engaged, but we will be."
"But why? I thought you found Patrick annoying."
"I do," Mary said, her eyes glistening with oncoming tears. "I can't stand him. And probably because he's the next heir of Downton, after Papa and Cousin James."
Although she was only six, Sybil could feel her sister's grief and was desperate to help her. "Don't worry, Mary. Even if you have to marry Patrick one day, it'll be when you're older. Not all boys stay immature forever. I'm sure Patrick will have grown up by then."
Mary let out a small sob as she began to cry. Sybil ran over to the dressing table and got her a handkerchief from one of the drawers. "I want to marry someone I like," she cried. Sybil patted her shoulder. She hadn't ever been in this position before: it was usually Mary or her mother that comforted her, not the other way around.
"Who're you marrying?" Edith asked loudly, barging in the door.
"Edith, you don't have to be so nosy all of the time," Sybil said to her nine year old sister.
"Were you spying on us?" Mary asked angrily.
"I couldn't help but overhear," the redhead shrugged. "Anyways, now that I know, who're you marrying?"
"She isn't getting married yet," Sybil said. "Not for a good long while."
"Yes, but her future husband's been arranged," Edith pressed. "Who is it?"
"It really isn't any of your business," Sybil smarted. Mary sniffed into the handkerchief.
"Oh, and it's yours? Tell me or I'll tell Mama you're keeping secrets."
"Who else in the house is my age, Edith? Use that small brain of yours!" Mary yelled between sobs.
Edith gasped after a moment. "You... you don't mean Cousin Patrick?"
"What do you know, you can think," Mary mumbled, her crying having slowed.
Edith's face fell. "Oh. If you... if you don't like him, you shouldn't have to marry him. Let him marry somebody that he likes."
"Like I have a choice, Edith, it sounded like Papa and Cousin James and Granny already agreed on it." Mary put her face in her hands.
Sybil patted her back. "Remember the story Mama told us? About how she and Papa weren't fond of each other when they were married, but then they fell in love? Maybe it'll be that way for you and Patrick."
"Patrick should marry someone that already loves him," Edith chimed in.
Mary looked up angrily. "We all know you have a crush on him, Edith, so stop trying to make this harder than it already is. Please get out of my room."
Edith huffed but obliged, slamming the door on her way out. Mary turned back to Sybil. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better, Sybil. I just don't want to fall in love with Patrick, is all."
Sybil nodded. "I'll leave you to finish your breakfast."
Mary shook her head. "No, no, stay. Don't have much of an appetite at the moment, anyways."
Sybil walked over to Mary's side of the bed and wrapped her arms around her. Mary did the same, resting her cheek on top of her sister's head as she always did. "Mama always says that everything looks better in the morning, only it's morning and everything is looking worse." Sybil did not know what to say, so she said nothing. Instead, she sat down in the comfortable chair next to Mary's bed, dangling her feet to see if she could touch the ground yet. She felt the tip of her sandal brush against the carpet and smiled to herself. Mary began to eat her toast, and the crunching sounds were the only noise in the room for a while.
"Ask me something," Mary finally said. Sybil cocked her head in confusion. "Ask me why things are how they are, like you always do," she clarified.
"Why?"
"I like answering," Mary shrugged.
"Okay, let me think," Sybil said as she wracked her brain for something she often asked herself. She always asked questions; it was a phase that most children grew out of by age six, but Sybil had yet to do so. She finally found one. "Why can't girls wear pants?"
Mary laughed. "What do you mean?"
Sybil shrugged. "Men wear pants and girls have to wear dresses all the time. What I want to know is why."
Mary shrugged. "That's just the way the world works, I suppose."
Sybil sighed. "That wasn't a very good answer even though you say you like to answer my questions."
Mary put her toast down. "I suppose I really don't know the answer. It's like asking why trees have leaves or why houses have walls. They just do."
"Hm," Sybil said in thought. Mary could see the little wheels in her mind spinning rapidly and she chuckled. "You'd better get downstairs before Cousin Patrick and Cousin James leave. I don't think they'll be staying for luncheon."
"Are you going to ring for Vera to get you ready before then?" Sybil asked as she stood up.
Mary shook her head. "No. I don't really want to see Patrick today, to be honest. It's too weird. Will you tell a fib to Papa that I'm feeling ill?"
Sybil nodded. "Yes. I'll try to make sure Edith doesn't say anything." Before she closed the door, she poked her head back into the room. "Mary?"
"Hm?" Mary asked as she wrapped herself back up in the covers, trying her best to look sick.
"I really, really hope you get to marry someone that you like."
Mary smiled sadly. "Me too."
a/n: another day another chapter. your views make me happy & reviews make me even happier just fyi