This was all swirling around in my head, and I kept taking more and more notes, even before I'd written the chapters before it. And now it's all coming together, and I hope you appreciate the… story.

I have changed dialogue and circumstances, happenings and events, as always.

I hope you appreciate it. It was hard making myself write, I've been having trouble…

x

Episode 6 - 1918

Chapter 6

Lavinia POV

It was very quiet. Here in my London home. I'd left Downton weeks ago, the very morning after Mary and I- oh, I don't know what it was. Or what it should have been.

My small bag had been strapped to the back of the car, and I sat in the back seat, feeling this numbness creep over me, although it felt uncomfortably hot, rising up my chest. I was leaving. Matthew didn't want me. Mary-

I closed my eyes, trying to force the feeling away. My heart had immediately pounded faster as I thought her name, and then ached when I remembered our parting. Her leaving. Leaving me.

Was she scared? Was I scared?

I looked up and thought I saw someone at one of the windows, but the curtain swirled back into place as the figure stepped away, the window held nothing for me now.

It would have been a suitable scene, my leaving Downton, never to return, if it were raining, but the sun shined down and there was not a cloud in the sky. Somehow, it made everything worse, and the world seemed less bright, with less hope. Or was I the only one?

The car started and I leant back against the seat, closing my eyes again. It did not matter if I cried; the chauffer would think I cried for Matthew. I would, if it were not for the fact I had broken my own heart, but not for my former fiancé. Someone far more like me, and yet so much more than I.

I shut the book I held, and placed it on the lounge next to me. The days had all begun to blur together, or was that last week that had started…? Or the week that came before that, or the very day I arrived here? I could hardly bring myself to call it home any more, all the life had drained out of me, save for that flame that flickered within.

Mary hadn't wanted me, she had left without a backwards glance, and I had let go of her just like that.

Hidden-Forbidden-Passion

Dear Miss Swire,

I hope you are well and that the end of your visit to Downton last time was not too distressing for you.

I am writing to invite you for dinner, and to stay for awhile. Since your departure, Matthew regrets his words and would very much like for you to join us.

We are expecting you for dinner tonight, I have arranged it all with Sir Richard, and he shall stop by your house in his car and bring you to Downton to dine with us.

Please do come, dear, I'm sure Mary would love to see you.

Lady Grantham

I didn't know what to think, but I found myself dressing in my room before I even knew I'd made the decision to go. My fingers trailed across the dresses, the fabrics, the patterns, but I was deep in thought, not thinking of what to choose, only of what I was doing.

Mary… Mary had walked away, run away from me. I wouldn't run any more. I couldn't have what hid deep inside me, I couldn't even name that feeling… but this time I had to accept my life as it was laid out before me. This time I had to marry Matthew. However miserable we both may be in that union. I had nothing else, I had no one else.

Deep, deep inside, that force that I felt pulled me towards Downton. Any chance to see Mary one more time.

Hidden-Forbidden-Passion

The drive to Downton had been long, silent and still. I sat rigidly, pressed to the seat and the door of the right side, Sir Richard relaxing on the other side, looking quite satisfied with himself. Perhaps he was delighted with the fact that I could distract Matthew, so as Mary would have no one to turn to.

Sir Richard hadn't been around Downton when I was there, so he mustn't know how close I was with Mary. Well, no longer. Anyway, I mustn't think of that. I was here for one reason. To marry Matthew and not spend the rest of my days a lonely spinster. I couldn't think of her.

But when I walked into the dining room, that thin veil I had created, any façade I could create, feigned innocence, ignorance, anything to protect myself, so I would not fall apart, all that came tumbling, crashing down when I saw her.

Mary stood, shocked as she watched me, her eyes wide, and as it always was with her, I couldn't look away. Perhaps she thought she would never see me again. Perhaps she had hoped it. But I was here and the look that came into her eyes held none of the fear they had that night of our embrace.

Lady Grantham came forward to greet me, although she seemed the only one not stunned by my presence. Had they really been expecting me? Or had I been summoned to distract Matthew from Mary, to keep him company, only to be sent away once more? I didn't understand it all, and Mary's eyes still held mine, she was frozen, as was I. Matthew wasn't bitter, as he had been when I last saw him, when he told me to go… and I didn't blame him for that. He had lost a part of himself, his livelihood, and I felt horrible for forcing my way back into his life unwanted. I seemed to do that a fair bit.

"Can you take Matthew into the small library? Are you hungry?" Lady Grantham asked me, fretting and flustering, trying her best to restore the gap between me and my unwilling ex-fiancé. I could tell, as could Matthew. He did not scowl; he merely frowned sadly, turning away as I took hold of his wheelchair, pushing it out the door, feeling all the eyes of the Grantham family on my back as I did.

Hidden-Forbidden-Passion

I pushed the wheelchair through the door and into the small library, the one where I had sat with Mary, and told her of my secret…

"Nothing's changed." Matthew said to me, and I stepped around him so he could see me.

"I know it hasn't," was all I said, and although he remained firm in his words, he looked at me, his brow creasing, seeming uncertain as I sat on the couch in front of him.

I took a deep breath, and spoke, not knowing what to say or how to say it, "I don't know what I feel. I don't know how to explain myself, but I know you don't want to marry me. And that's fine."

Matthew blinked in surprise, he did not understand it all, nor did I, but he had to know at least some of this indefinite affair and why I came back. I was relieved, I admit, that I would not have to marry him and he would not have me. But that presented more of an issue, one I couldn't resolve.

"But I can't leave Downton."

Matthew listened to me, his face solemn, deep in thought.

"I can't." I repeated, desperate for him to know, but terrified of his probable reaction to knowledge of me and his former sweetheart, my once possible sweetheart…

"Can you tell me why? Why you…?" Matthew shook his head in confusion, leaning closer to me.

"No. But I can't leave. I have nothing, no one, and-" I closed my eyes for a moment, "If I knew, and when I do, I will tell you if I possibly can."

I couldn't leave her yet. I couldn't go; not without being sure she would be fine and happy, and safe, even with me no longer there. She deserved more than I could give her, and I would smile and ignore my own broken heart, if only for hers to be whole.

Carlisle didn't know her. He didn't appreciate her, and he certainly didn't love her. He wanted to own her, possess her, and the very thought of him marrying her, branding her with his ring on her finger and her in his arms, it filled me with a deep, cold rage that frightened me. I couldn't let him hurt her, as I knew he would. Only then would I leave, once all the poison of Carlisle was gone from her life and she was going to be all right.

Matthew had sat there a moment, or had it been more than a minute? watching me, a small smile on his face, not sad, just… not quite there. He was somewhere else, thinking? He wheeled himself out of the room, and I pressed my hands to my face, sighing in relief. Matthew didn't fully comprehend what I tried to tell him, but he acknowledged my position at Downton was no longer with him, but I had the strangest feeling he'd stay with me, as a protective brother, maybe. I had always wanted a brother.

Hidden-Forbidden-Passion

"Lavinia?"

I was remembering, recounting that night. I must have imagined her voice calling my name, as softly as she had then. I was still in the library, seated on one of the plush red sofas, and as Mary stepped around the narrow gap between the door and its frame, I stood quickly, smoothing down my dress.

"Hello."

She had said it instantly, and I answered her without a thought.

"Hello… Mary."

She smiled, so like herself in that moment, and I couldn't speak.

Mary's smile faded, and I had to say something, to break this terrible silence between us, with no words to use.

"Mary, I'm sorry, I never meant to-"

At my strangled half-whisper, Mary shook her head, her lips parting to speak, "No, please don't say that-" she took a step closer.

"I never meant to-"

I never meant to do a lot of things. I never meant to sully the names of the Cabinet Ministers while trying to help my father. I never meant to fall into an engagement with Matthew; I never meant to involve myself in a conflict with Richard Carlisle. And I had never known, and never meant to have such feelings for Mary. I didn't know such feelings could be felt.

I could hardly look at her any longer; I didn't know what I would do. I looked down, tears blurring my vision. I tried to leave, wanting to run for the door, but Mary spoke, stepping towards me, her fingers closed around my wrist gently, she held me there without any force, only her hand softly encircling mine.

"Lavinia… don't go."

I looked up to see Mary, and couldn't describe the expression on her face. She looked about to cry. She seemed completely helpless, the first time I had seen her so.

"Come, sit with me."

Her hand still in mine, she led me back to the couch I had risen from, sitting next to me. She said nothing for a moment, only looking at my face, and then glancing down, like she wanted to say something.

"Last month… when I last saw you…." she hesitated, and shut her eyes, a dull glow in them, an expression that pained me to see on her face, "That night when we…"

She couldn't find the words, and they were lost to me too.

"Mary, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

And I was. Sorry that I had never said, sorry that I could never forget her, sorry for the feelings I felt for her, emotions I thought were not possible, not for me. This all broke me, broke me inside, and I couldn't stop the tears that came, coursing down my cheeks, all for her. I realised that I had begun sobbing helplessly, and Mary's fingers let go of mine, and she reached for me, her hands touching my face, she was so much closer…

"Oh, Lavinia." Mary murmured, and she drew me into her arms. Her cheek pressed to mine, she hushed me softly, whispering that it was all right. I knew then that she cared about me, I had never before seen her show this affection even to Carlisle, to Matthew, even to her family.

I felt the fabric of her skirt under my fingers, warm on her thigh, from where she had dropped my hand from her own to embrace me. My head, laid on Mary's shoulder, my face turned into her neck, our bodies were so close, her hand soft on my cheek, I could smell intoxicating perfume, and powder, and something else… the scent of her, her warmth, and her breath blowing gently into my hair.

My tears had stopped, how long had I been crying? And how long had she held me to her? Mary did not pull away, even after my sobs had quietened, my hand still resting on her thigh… she brushed her thumb across my cheeks, wiping my tears away. I had never been one to cry in the presence of another, but it was Mary who always seemed to make me forget myself. Every time she had been there with me, for me.

"There," she whispered, and at her voice, I leant back slightly so I could look into her face, to see her smiling, "do you feel better, Lavinia?"

"Yes." I whispered, with my head still resting on Mary's shoulder. Perhaps I should have shifted, moved away from her, but the safety of being in her arms left me no desire to leave them, and she did not seem at all uncomfortable. I glanced up again to see her face, instead to gaze into the fathomless depths of her brown eyes; their intensity shocked me, her fingers still gentle on my cheek.

Something formed in them, I could not tear my own eyes from her, I was happily imprisoned in her gaze. She brought my face to hers, my eyes closed. And then our lips were pressed together, so softly together, it could have been by her own want or mine; quiet, gasping breaths moving from my mouth to hers, and given again back.

Mary… she pressed the smallest, yet deepest kisses, gently to meet my own, which were tender and trembling, this was almost painful in the way I longed for her. This couldn't possibly be happening. Mary, I was kissing her, Mary… the reality of it all, the raw emotion that she created in me was heart-wrenching, I could feel her lips moving with mine, so softly, I clutched at her, her neck, her face, her hair, all of her was so beautiful and real…

How soft could she be, not only her lips, but her skin brushing against mine, her hand still resting upon my cheek, her hair as I ran it through my fingers. The taste of her was like an unknown fruit, an unspoken desire, an uninhibited passion… Her sweetness was inviting me, taunting me, torturing me, as she stroked her fingers up the back of my neck, and to my chin, bringing my lips closer to her own. I lifted my head from her shoulder, wanting more of her.

Oh, god…

"Mary…" her name was a gasp from my lips as I pulled away and stood, though wanting her back in my arms just like that…

Mary stood just as I took a step away, "Please…"

Her voice held me there. I did not move forward, but I was still half-turned to the door.

I felt Mary touch my shoulder, "The first night you came to Downton, I saw how you shied away from Matthew… when he would place his hand on your back…"

A sob escaped me, and I pressed my hand to my mouth, but she continued, she had known from the start, known my feelings and mirrored them. Mary's hand on my shoulder gently turned me as I watched her, I had begun to cry again, and her beauty was drowned as I looked at her through a veil of tears.

"And when you looked back. He didn't see you… you smiled at me…" she smiled through her tears as she said it, pressing her hand to my cheek, brushing my tears away once more with her fingers.

I had smiled at her. Yes, I had. She had seemed so lonely, so sad; she had haunted me from that night… I had thought of her every day, more than that, of, course I thought of it as innocent concern, a fondness perhaps…

Mary knew. She knew she was the one who held my heart…

"How long have you felt for me, Lavinia?" Mary asked me gently, her voice was hushed as she leaned closer. I did not pull away, and I could not look away from her knowing eyes. How long? How long had I felt my heart race whenever I saw her? How long had I ached to run my fingers along her skin, and stroke her hair? I did not know… perhaps for much longer than I had realised. No one had ever made me feel what I felt for her. How long had I wanted to kiss her, kiss her soft, sweet mouth…

Mary's right hand moved from my neck to my waist, pulling me into her, and she kissed me again, this time she held me, closer than she should, and at the feel of her body against mine, my chest to hers, her hand on my hip created the most amazing stirrings deep within me. A whimper escaped my mouth, stifled by her lips, and I felt myself ache as a low moan sounded in her own throat at my response. Her left hand at my cheek, stroking, soft as she was, her lips now desperately frantic against mine, her right hand moved to my back, bringing me so much closer into her, so dangerously close, oh, Mary…

Her mouth moved from mine, gasping against my cheek, sighing against my skin. This couldn't end, not now… Mary still held me, breathing as I did and leant her forehead gently against mine, gazing at me through her eyelashes. I knew this was drawing to a close; she needed to be back with her family soon. But I never wanted this to stop, never wanted her to go.

"Lavinia…" she sighed.

"I know…" I whispered. I knew she had to leave, but wanted it to last just a bit longer…

As if she had been hoping the same thing, Mary pressed one last kiss to my lips, a deep, lingering kiss, softly moaning as she did. My heart gave a sudden lurch, as if it would go with her when she left. Mary stepped away from me, her fingers lingering on my cheek for a moment, and went to the door. I had just tasted heaven on her lips, and her shy smile stayed a moment longer with her, and then she was gone, silently stealing away.

I sank onto the lounge, my fingers gripping the velvet cushion beneath me. With the longing she awakened swiftly thrumming within me; I found I could taste her on my lips.

There was a soft creak. I glanced around the room. I thought I had heard something, but Mary had gone, hadn't she?

It sounded like footsteps.

Hidden-Forbidden-Passion

I had sat there a few minutes more, silently musing on what must have been the most perfect moment of my life. Well, it would have been, had I had not cried so much. But the soft comfort Mary gave me, the most caring caresses…

I shook my head, trying to ignore the shivers that crept over me at the thought of her, and stood, making my way out of the small library and down the hall.

Hushed voices caught my attention, hissed words, and I recognised one voice as Mary's, the other was deeper, masculine and slick. I'd know that voice anywhere.

Richard Carlisle walked beside Mary, though she strode briskly and he had to try and keep up. I'd never seen them disagree before, and sometimes I had to remind myself that she was engaged to him, and that sent a shudder through me, though disgust was only one thing that caused it. I peeked round the pillar I stood behind, hardly thinking of propriety at that time, watching Mary shrug away his hand that grasped her shoulder.

"…Lavinia Swire seemed an appropriate distraction for Matthew Crawley," Carlisle followed behind Mary, trying to assure her, though nothing in his tone or face could calm her, "Don't start on me about your little friend, I want-"

"Suppose he doesn't want her back, have you thought of that?" Mary's voice was almost challenging him, and I held my breath, gritting my teeth together.

"He needs someone to look after him." Carlisle spoke thoughtfully, ignoring Mary, "And you'll be too busy with our new life."

Mary didn't like to be pushed or ordered around, and this incensed her, "Look, I know you're used to having your own way-"

Carlisle grabbed her arm, yanking her away behind a wall, though I could just see them. Without thinking, I walked closer, my fingers sliding along the rough stone wall I stepped around.

"I am used to having my own way, and now I'll say something I hope I won't have to repeat." His voice was low and dangerous, and Mary twisted her wrist, trying to get his hand off hers, but his grip only tightened.

"Get off me." Mary spat, almost pushing him away, but now Carlisle held both her arms to her sides, he was almost flat against her, my hands began to shake, from anger or fear, I didn't know.

"If you think you can jilt me, or in some way set me aside, you are making a very big mistake."

Carlisle enunciated those last three words, his threat hung in the air over them, and over me watching them, though they didn't know it.

"I tell you now, Richard, if you do not take your hands off me, then you will be making a bigger mistake." Mary matched his tone, no fear in her eyes, and they flashed as she spoke.

He did not seem at all bothered by her words, "Or what, Lady Mary?"

"I saw what you did to Lavinia." Mary wouldn't flinch or even blink. At her expression, I was strongly reminded of the hot, numbing anger I felt when I thought of Carlisle hurting her…

"I've noticed you've been spending a fair bit of time with Miss Swire," Carlisle was smiling, but it was not a smile that reassured.

Mary didn't seem interested in distraction. She leant forward slightly, almost hissing her words from between her teeth, "I saw the bruise on her arm; I know what you said. I know what you did to her."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Carlisle leant back, smirking, "I suppose I've left my mark on her. Help her to remember what I am capable of…" Carlisle leant in again, almost whispering to Mary, I could hardly hear him, "What kind of mark have you left on her?"

Mary froze. I couldn't breathe.

"What?" Mary practically mouthed the words; she was so completely shocked and horrified. Out of all the people who could possibly have known, ever have seen-

"You seem very fond of her, am I right?" Carlisle smiled, seeing he had her attention, "Such a close bond. A lovely friendship."

Mary didn't dare take her eyes off him, "What do you want?" she demanded, "You can't use this against me, you have no proof and who would believe it?"

"Say what you like, you have given me the power to destroy you. And don't think I won't use it. Your salacious appetite has got the better of you. And with Lavinia-" he almost laughed and Mary looked almost murderous.

"Don't even endeavour to presume anything of me and Lavinia." Mary says, it's almost a warning, although next to Richard Carlisle's, her words might not have much power, her eyes were telling. She hated him. She loved me. Though my heart ached in happiness at her defence, I was speechless with worry, and feared for everything we had, which was practically nothing but each other.

"I want to be a good husband…" Carlisle began, but Mary cut across him, fury in her words.

"I'd rather die than be your wife." Mary snarled, at this Carlisle's hand closed around her wrists again, this time shaking with rage.

"Don't ever cross me!" he nearly roared in her face, and she raised her arms-

The sharp gasp left me before I realised it had. Mary's eyes flashed to mine, terror clear on her face, and she shook her head minutely. Was she trying to tell me something? To leave, to run? Carlisle turned and saw me, a nasty grin on his face. I wasn't hiding in the shadows any more, I had stepped forward, his back had been to me, I had clenched my hands into fists, though I could do nothing to protect her.

I walked over to them, and Carlisle dropped his hands from Mary. She rushed to me, though I was only a few feet away, and took my hands. I lifted her hands to my lips, kissing the white skin of her wrists where Carlisle had held so tight. I didn't care if he saw, but his gaze made me feel like I was doing something wrong, and I hated him for it.

My fingers linked through Mary's, I turned to Carlisle, feeling small and stupid. Though with Mary here none of that mattered. I held my head high, staring him right in his eyes.

"Well, this I didn't expect," Carlisle admitted, shaking his head, "Mary, I knew you were a little slut, but-"

The hot surge of anger that rushed through my body pushed me forward, and I wanted to slap him, hit him, scratch his eyes out. Mary's gentle hands became restraints as I lunged for his face, "Lavinia, shh…"

Her soft voice in my ear brought me back, but my heart still pounded strangely fast, as if it were pushing revenge through my veins, and I nearly spat at him.

"How dare you, you thoughtless bastard. She is anything but."

Carlisle blinked, and smiled at Mary, as if they shared a secret, "So she's not told you…?" his smile became almost gleeful.

"You-" Mary began, but Carlisle would hear nothing but his own voice. He turned to me, determined.

"You think she loves you, that you're her only one?"

"Mary, what does he mean?" I had to ask her, but she couldn't look at me, wouldn't look at me.

"Don't-" Mary started, looking at Carlisle, trying to stop him from saying something. Saying what?

She turned to me, tears in her eyes, taking my face in her hands, frantically whispering to me, "Don't listen to him, Lavinia, don't listen-"

"You think Mary's all yours? You think she's never lusted for another?"

"No, Richard, please, don't-" Mary was almost begging him now, and as she reached out, he said it, like an absolution.

"She gave herself to another. Another man."

I couldn't speak for a long time, I didn't know how long. Though there was one thing I had to ask.

"Mary…"

"Please don't listen to him, Lavinia, please-" Mary was pleading with me, her hands at my face, in my hair, trying to embrace me, but I did not move. I could not move.

"Is it true?" My words had no feeling in them, I just had to know. Please don't let it be true. I prayed to the God I didn't believe in. I begged her with my eyes, I screamed at Carlisle in my mind.

"Darling…" tears were shining in her eyes, as she put her hand to my cheek.

"Is it true?" I demanded, shaking at her response, at her faltering to answer me.

"Well, go on, Mary, tell her the truth." Carlisle says over Mary's shoulder.

That boiling hatred within me seemed to freeze. All I felt was dread.

"Yes." was all she said, bowing her head.

I closed my eyes. I felt like I'd been gutted. Like I'd had all my bones ripped out of me. He did that. She did that.

Mary cupped my cheek, bringing me closer to her, trying to look in my eyes, "But it was years ago, years ago, before I'd met you and I didn't-"

I couldn't hear her over my heart's screaming. The tears wouldn't go but they wouldn't come. They flooded my eyes, yet none touched my cheeks.

There was a buzz of voices that turned my head. The Grantham family had left the drawing room. They were coming. Mary must have turned back, but I had walked away before she could find me, my hand slipping from her grasp, and falling against the cool fabric of my dress.

Mary was killing me, every time she turned around. Every glance and smile. Every touch, kiss and taste. This was like nothing I'd ever felt. And it would be the last thing I'd ever feel.

TBC

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x kissthespider26