A/N: Sorry for the update delay! I had some writers' block for a while, but hopefully this chapter will satisfy :) Thank you again for all the continued readership!
(FYI, this chapter jumps ahead a bit. Apologies for not elaborating on the London trip, but I'm eager to get to the wedding/their marriage haha)
Chapter 4: The wedding is a day away, and Mary and Matthew decide to confront their past once and for all.
They had decided on a June wedding. The sun was bright, the air was warm, and the season was ready to usher in the happiness of their new beginning as husband and wife. Matthew and Mary could feel themselves every day moving closer and closer toward the cusp of what they saw to be a grand future.
London had, in their eyes, been a success. They made their statement to society by proving they didn't rely upon it. And though this may not have presented the most amiable image, it certainly set a tone for how the future Earl and Countess of Grantham conducted themselves as a couple. They were proud to already have a reputation for unpredictability. And though he would not admit it, Robert felt more sure than ever that he was leaving his life's work in the proper hands.
But now, with the wedding only days away, Mary and Matthew were focused on the propriety of the thing. Despite what were most likely both of their wishes, certainly Matthew's, the wedding was to be an extravagant affair. Dignitaries they had never met had been invited, as Mary well knew any wedding among the aristocracy was at once both a political and personal occasion. The saving grace of the event itself was that it was to be held at Downton. On this, they both insisted, and were met with no resistance from any party.
Cora and Isobel had elected themselves the overseers, with Isobel respectfully allowing Cora to take the lead as this sort of thing was clearly more comfortable to her jurisdiction. But of course, they both had to answer to the Dowager Countess.
The afternoon before the wedding, Mary found herself alone in the drawing room with her Aunt Rosamund. Her mother and Cousin Violet had gone off to do a last inspection of the floral arrangements, and Edith was upstairs with a visiting Sybil, helping put her newborn son down for a nap.
"So, my dear. You must be absolutely beside yourself," Aunt Rosamund said with encouragement. Mary smiled politely. She appreciated the sentiment, but was getting a bit tired of understatements such as these.
"It's certainly been a long time coming." She answered.
In the library, Matthew was finishing a conversation with Robert about various odd topics. He decided now that he would seek out Mary. There wasn't anything in particular he wanted to discuss, simply to enjoy her company for the afternoon. As he moved down the corridor, he heard voices coming from the nearby drawing room. He recognized them as Aunt Rosamund's and Mary's.
"You know, I ran into Richard Carlisle the other day," he heard Aunt Rosamund say. At this, despite knowing better, he decided to wait beside the door without making his presence known. He knew what ability Rosamund had to manipulate Mary's opinions.
Mary perked up at Rosamund's words. She hadn't heard about Carlisle since London. The story had since died down, though her reputation remained where it was more or less.
"Oh? What does he say?"
"He's engaged, apparently. Some young socialite. I don't believe she comes from any titles."
Mary wasn't sure what she was feeling. She was glad for him, but couldn't help but wonder what life she would have led with him. Rosamund could clearly sense this. Outside the door, Mary's silence was making Matthew sweat.
"Do you ever get curious? Or think of what would have happened had you chosen the other path?" Rosamund inquired.
Mary thought for a moment. In this silence, Matthew could feel all the anger he had bore the first time she had hesitated to accept him once again resurfacing. But he kept himself collected and tried to remain open-minded.
"Sometimes," Mary spoke honestly. "Of course, there is no doubt it would have been interesting."
"You would have been at the center of London society. A woman of great influence and importance." Rosamund added.
"Yes. That is true."
Matthew wasn't sure how much more he could listen to.
"I only worry that you might not be quite stimulated enough in the country, my dear. I'm not trying to sabotage." Her voice suggested that this was in fact the truth.
Matthew doubted that.
"No, of course not. I admit, there are moments where I wonder how life as a Yorkshire wife will treat me." Mary said.
Matthew felt a pit in his stomach. He had heard enough. Instead of barging in and confronting Rosamund for once again trying to dissuade his bride, he simply marched off, hoping time to walk and think would help settle him down. He didn't want to let his temper get away with him as it had last time, but still. The wedding was tomorrow, he couldn't let things unravel when they were this close.
Mary sat quietly, thinking of how to continue.
"Yet…" she began, "Whenever I do think of it - of what my life here will be like versus what a life in the heart of London would have been…it's not so complicated as you might think."
Rosamund smiled knowingly. She understood what Mary was telling her, but spoke anyway to confirm.
"You mean…" there was only one way she could think to put it, "Matthew."
Mary smiled contentedly. That was precisely it. She nodded at her aunt, feeling somehow much younger than she was.
"I might have led a more interesting life in London, but without him…what would it have mattered? I could never be happy with Carlisle. Matthew and I belong together. And whether we're living in a Yorkshire cottage or a London flat, that's all that matters. In the end."
Rosamund had never seen her cool, composed niece speak so emotionally. It truly took her aback. As she absorbed these feelings, Rosamund took a moment to contemplate the role she had played in the relationship between Matthew and Mary. Enough time had passed and she had learned enough to know that it was time to make amends.
"Listen, my dear girl. I feel I owe you an apology…and I feel I have owed it to you for a long time."
Mary looked up, curious at this tone with which she had never heard her Aunt speak before.
"I should never have made you doubt it, those years ago. I didn't understand how you felt for him. Had I known you cared for more than his inheritance, I would not have said a word. I hope you can forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive, Aunt Rosamund. None of us could have predicted the events of the last eight years. Had I known then what I know now, I doubt anyone would have allowed me to question it, least of all myself. But I believe…I believe perhaps I had to lose him for that time. Otherwise I would be taking this all for granted."
Mary had never thought about things that way, but it was the truth. Still, she could never let go of the regret she felt for spending all those years of the war unable to speak her true feelings.
Rosamund nodded silently. They had at last reached an honest truce on the matter.
That evening, Matthew was restless, pacing his dressing room. He didn't want to jump to conclusions about what he had overheard between Mary and Rosamund, but he couldn't help the feeling of anxiety that overcame him. They had almost come this close last time before Rosamund's words had dissuaded Mary, and though he knew better than to think that was still the case, he wasn't sure enough not to act on his discomfort. With determination, he moved from his dressing room, still dressed in his tuxedo, and marched toward Mary's quarters on the other side of the house.
There, Anna was only just beginning to help Mary remove her gloves and jewelry from dinner. Before the women could even properly settle into conversation, there was a familiar knocking at the door. Anna moved to answer it, even though they both could guess who it was.
"Good evening, Mr. Crawley." Anna said.
"Is Mary in?" his voice was not quite as calm and pleasant as usual.
"Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?" Anna teased. Matthew chuckled lightly at this.
"It's all right, Anna, send him in." Even without seeing his face, Mary could sense something had changed in him. She had first noticed it at dinner, where though he had been warm and grateful for all the toasts to their happiness, she had not sensed her excitement mirrored in him.
Matthew entered and greeted her quite formally. Mary, confused by this, approached him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, as opposed to the lips, where she had originally intended.
"Darling," Matthew began, "I wondered if you might care to join me for a walk out on the grounds?" His voice began to warm again. Mary smiled at this unique proposition. For some reason a part of her registered that this is exactly what she wanted to do right now. Her eagerness and antsiness was ultimately impatience at how little time remained between now and when she would finally be able to be in his company at any and all time she chose.
"I would love to," she replied. The pair left the room and Anna behind. The housemaid sat on Mary's bed, wondering what this could possibly be about, and fighting the feeling that it couldn't be anything good.
No one had noticed them leave the outer hall, indeed most had already gone to bed save a few servants, so Mary and Matthew were granted one of the last moments of privacy they were likely to receive over the next 24 hours.
For several minutes they walked in silence holding hands, Matthew thinking of what he wanted to say, Mary taking in the utter peace of this moment, and hoping it would become a routine for them.
"Mary…" Matthew began. He glanced sideways at her, she looked at him warmly and with expectation. "I must tell you…I've been thinking about things."
"What sort of things?" Mary said, not entirely as calm as she was just seconds ago.
"Oh…just…the estate, our future, that sort of thing."
"So you mean – our marriage?" she asked, hoping this wasn't turning into a conversation she had feared for years.
"If you want to put it like that, yes."
Mary finally stopped, forcing him to acknowledge her head on. He had not seemed this distant from her since long before they were engaged.
"I only want to make sure…" he continued to struggle, especially now that he felt really confronted by her, "that you are happy…with your prospects, that is."
She was confused and it worried her.
"What do you mean?"
"Your father and mother are going to live a long many years, I dare say. You and I may be the next Earl and Countess of Grantham…but for possibly much longer than that, you will be the wife of a 'country solicitor' as you once so eloquently called me."
She didn't appreciate his recall of the days she was so cold to him.
"What's gotten into you? Why are you talking like this?"
It was time for Matthew to fess up.
"I heard you and Rosamund talking today. I heard what you said."
"Oh did you? What exactly did you hear me say?"
Her tone confirmed to Matthew that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but he knew he couldn't disobey her right now.
"I heard you say that…you wonder what your life would have been with Carlisle. Living at the top of London society…all that power and influence. You would be at the center of the social scene, so on and so on."
Matthew had moved away from her as he spoke. She thought it was out of disappointment and hurt rather than the truth: embarrassment. Regardless, she was at the ready to quell his fears, and her own.
Mary moved toward him one inch at a time as she spoke.
"And did you then hear me say that even though yes, I do think about what could have been mine, I immediately stop myself…and I remember that no matter how much fame and power and popularity I might have gained…I would not have you to call my husband. And if I am to marry, it will be to a man I am proud to stand beside. A man that I love."
Matthew blushed, knowing he had been scolded. He bowed his head in defeat and chuckled a bit to himself. Looking up, he saw Mary with a satisfied grin on her face, but one that also asked for reassurance that he understood what she had just told him.
In answer, Matthew leaned in and kissed her.
"I'm sorry. You'll forgive me, my dear…I get nervous when I hear you talk like that. I know we're not the people we were those years ago…but I still wonder sometimes."
"Wonder what, exactly?"
He smiled sweetly, thinking of his answer. "What on Earth I've done to deserve you."
She didn't respond to this, only gazed at him with such loving eyes, almost in disbelief at the reminder that in mere hours, they would be man and wife. Tonight would be the last night they would wake up without the other lying beside them.
Matthew took Mary's hand and they continued walking. As happy as she was, there was still a part of her that was troubled by Matthew's insinuated doubt. If a mere misunderstanding of an overheard conversation between Mary and her Aunt Rosamund was enough to put doubts in him, clearly she had not articulated her commitment as well as she had hoped.
Mary thought in silence on this for a long while. It was Matthew's turn to simply bask in the cool splendor of this mid-summer night, his love at his side, a light breeze coming toward them.
"Matthew…" Mary's voice was small. Matthew knew this meant she was about to speak of something she probably never had before.
"During the war…when they thought you might not walk again…" Mary struggled to figure out exactly how to put this, Matthew was clearly unsure where she was going. It caused her to stop and take both his hands in hers, so that the full weight of her sentiment could be felt.
"I hope you know that I would have stayed."
"Stayed…?"
"Had you and I been engaged, no matter what you said…I wouldn't have left you. Even if you were doomed to that chair forever, even if it meant we would never have children. I would have stayed by your side."
"Mary, you say that now that I'm well…"
"I would have said it then," she said, cutting him off so there was no mistake that she meant it. "All I wanted was to say it then. All I wanted was to take care of you and hold your hand while you slept in that hospital bed…I would have done anything."
"Mary, why are you bringing all this up?"
"I'm trying to tell you that I understand it all better now. I made the mistake the first time of thinking there were factors more important than that you and I loved each other. I thought the idea of marrying you when you weren't the heir would make a difference to how I felt…but then…when you had no prospects, when you were to live only half the life you'd hoped for yourself and any wife…I realized that all I wanted was to be the person at your side through all of that. It only made me love you more. And I don't say this to disrespect Lavinia's memory, you know I don't. But I can't help but be angry with myself at knowing there's no good reason that it shouldn't have been me. When you needed me and I needed you. The thought that you might have died without knowing that…without knowing how much I love you…I would never have been able to live with myself."
By now, Mary was in tears of frustration and regret. But she knew this needed to happen, to exercise all the demons of their past that still haunted her. She needed him to know that there had never been a moment where she hadn't wanted to kiss him or hold him, she was just never allowed to.
Matthew, equally emotional, stepped forward and took her face in his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. Now it was his turn to be heard.
"When I returned here, when I was finished with that bloody war, crippled as I was…surely…surely you know…I was coming home to you." Matthew's voice choked with emotion. "I loved Lavinia very much. Of course I did. But I survived that war for you, Mary. So that I might see your face again…even if it was just for once more."
At this moment, they realized they were both teary messes, and had to laugh a little at how carried away they had gotten with their emotions. They knew though, that this was the release they had been waiting for. They had never cried quite like this in front of each other before, which made it all the more of a relief.
"We've been given a second chance, Mary. I was lucky enough to make it out with my life, and I'm a fool for thinking I could ever have lived it without you."
"I love you more than any life. And I will spend mine making sure you never doubt it again."
They spoke the words like vows. With that, they kissed, deep and full of every promise they had just made. Matthew pulled her tight to him, and she gripped his back to ensure there was not a single inch to be spared between them. Their clothed bodies were as close as they could be. Amidst the sensation, a rogue reminder came to them of what not only the following day would bring, but in particular, the following night.