Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Season 1 & 2 trough the Christmas Special
Disclaimer: Any names off characters you recognize from Downton Abbey are not mine. All original characters do however belong to me. Fanfiction is in my opinion the ultimate form of flattery to a screenwriter :)
…
While my lovely Irish beta,Tambear, is recovering, the talented and wonderful R. Grace has so graciously agreed to help me out. Between the two of them, they have steered me in the right direction with this story. So, a huge thank you to R. Grace for helping with this chapter, catching missing commas, odd grammar and offering excellent suggestions & advice! I hope that you will enjoy it!
I'm still terribly behind on answering comments and reviews. Please know that I treasure all of them, and I love when you share your thoughts. I have my favorite parts and scenes, but it's so lovely to hear which ones stood out to you, what really touched you, angered you, frustrated you or just made you go awww. LOL So, thank you, all of you, for reviewing and favoriting this story.
We're getting closer to the wedding…
…
Chapter 5 – The Longest Summer
Lady Grantham had indeed been watching Mary like a hawk in the days that followed the Garden Party. Call it a mother's intuition, but she knew something was up. Mary became increasingly irritated, having her mother hover nearby at all times. She snapped at Cora, who only smiled and appeared to be completely immune to Mary's temper and sullen moods. As calm and collected as Lady Grantham appeared to be on the surface, she did find Mary's behavior somewhat frustrating. Understanding her daughter perhaps better than most people, Cora bit her tongue, refraining from putting fuel on the fire.
When the day came for Matthew and Isobel to depart from Downton, Mary's mood changed once again. This time it was her sisters who found her behavior tiresome.
"Mary, if you sigh one more time I'll throw my book at you," Edith exclaimed.
"Oh, do pipe down," Mary muttered.
"What's wrong?" Sybil asked, seating herself next to Mary and taking her hand. "Do you miss him an awful lot?"
"Yes, darling." Mary smiled at Sybil and caressed her soft cheek. "You're very sweet for understanding."
"You'll see him in a few weeks," Edith muttered. "And then you'll see him every day for the rest of your life. Not that I can see the appeal."
"Of course not," Mary snapped. "All you have eyes for is Cousin Patrick. Patrick, Patrick, Patrick. Too bad that that fish got away."
Edith glared at Mary. "You're cruel. I hate you!"
Mary sighed and closed her eyes as her younger sister stormed out of the room. Sybil squeezed her hand, and Mary returned the gesture.
"Why do you and Edith argue so much, Mary?"
"Oh, I don't know. Old habit, I suppose."
"She's jealous of you, you know," Sybil said softly.
Mary was just about to correct her sister when she realized that there might be some truth to Sybil's words.
"I was horrid to Edith, wasn't I?"
Sybil nodded. "You know how much she likes Patrick. I think she cried all night once she learned of his engagement to Annabelle."
"I should go and apologize," Mary said with a heavy sigh. She got up and smiled at Sybil. "You truly are the best of us three, Sybil."
Sybil rolled her eyes. "You're silly, Mary. Now go and talk to Edith."
~ O ~
Matthew's hand hovered in the air over the empty stationery as he lost himself in thought. A little smile played on his lips as he gazed through the open window, not seeing the greenery, but instead Mary's smiling face.
It had not even been a week since they'd left Downton, but he missed her terribly. He chuckled softly at the memory of that night in the library when they had come so close to being discovered. He had remained downstairs for quite some time after Mary and Lady Grantham went upstairs, not only to prevent discovery, but also to get his arousal under control. Mary's touch had left him in quite a state, and he had cursed Cora for coming looking for her daughter. Still, he reckoned, the countess' timing could have been much worse. So much worse, indeed.
Glancing down at the cream colored paper on the desk, he frowned at the discovery of a blotch where some ink had leaked from his pen.
"Blasted pen." He put the pen back and tossed the ruined page in the bin. Reaching for another piece of stationery, he tried to focus his thoughts on his letter to Mary.
My Dearest Mary,
How I miss you. Thank you for giving me your beautiful handkerchief.
It has truly kept me sane, as your scent still lingers on it. I carry it
with me wherever I go, keeping it safe, close to my heart…
.
Matthew leaned back, rereading his words. He made a face at how they made him sound like a love struck fool.
"Well, you are," he muttered to himself.
Remembering all too well the soft look in Mary's eyes whenever he opened his heart to her and how his words truly held a deep meaning to her, he put his best foot forward and continued writing. Once done, he carefully blotted the page before folding it up. Turning the envelope over, he scribbled Mary's name and Downton, and was just about to seal it when he thought of something. A mischievous grin spread over his face, and reached for his pen again. Once done, he carefully slipped the new item inside the envelope. To make it official, he sealed the letter with wax, pressing the Crawley crest into it.
~ O ~
On a beautiful sunny day in early August, Lady Grantham escorted a somewhat sullen Mary to London, for the last fitting of Mary's wedding dress. Cora's attempt at conversation was met with only halfhearted, short responses from her daughter who seemed more interested in the landscape flying by outside than in speaking to her mother.
"What's wrong, darling?" Cora tried again, smiling at Mary, who was seated across from her in the first class car.
"Nothing." Mary sighed, continuing to stare out the window.
"Clearly it is something," Cora pushed on. "You were so excited about your wedding dress at the last fitting."
"Fine." Mary glared at her mother. "Matthew promised to write, and he hasn't. There, I said it."
"Oh, my dear." Cora frowned and reached for Mary's hand. "I'm sure he's very busy getting everything ready for you. Besides, men are far from the best correspondents."
"I suppose." Mary sighed again. "You don't think he's changed his mind?"
"Heavens no! Why in the world would you say that?" Cora almost laughed at the thought, but held back her amusement at the forlorn look on Mary's face. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation, my dear."
Mary nodded and smiled a little. "Since you seem to think so, I will try my best to do the same."
"I'm so glad that we could take this trip together, Mary; a last mother daughter event before you're off on your next adventure."
Mary rolled her eyes. "Don't get all sentimental now, Mama. It makes you sound so American."
Cora just laughed. She squeezed Mary's hand again before leaning back in her seat, picking up the book she had been reading.
~ O ~
"Matthew?"
"Yes, mother?" Matthew looked up from his newspaper, meeting his mother's eyes.
"Have you decided on your best man yet?"
"Crikey!" His eyes widened in shock and surprise. "I haven't given it the faintest thought."
"Perhaps it's time that you do?" she said rather sternly. "You do need one, you know."
"I do know that, Mother."
"Cousin Patrick perhaps?"
"No, I don't think so." Matthew frowned. As close as he and Patrick had become over the years, he still did not feel completely at ease with Downton's heir. "I'm not sure choosing the one person that stands to inherit what should rightfully be Mary's would be a good idea."
"You're quite right." Isobel made a face as she pondered her son's words. "It is ridiculous really, that Mary can't inherit. All because of some ancient patriarchal entail."
"We can't change it, Mother, so it's no use getting angry about it. Besides, it was her grandfather who put the entail in place, so it's hardly ancient."
"I know, my dear, but it still upsets me so."
"What about Mitchell? Or perhaps Collins?" Matthew suggested, changing the topic before his mother would go off on a rant about the oppression of women in England.
"Andrew Mitchell," Isobel mused. "He's a nice boy. And it's Walter Collins, is it not? What's become of him?"
"Yes, Walter." Matthew smiled at his mother. Isobel knew both young men, and had done so for years. "He's working for his uncle, managing one of his stores in York."
"Good for him!" Isobel grinned with excitement. "I always liked him. Andrew was a little rascal, but a loving one. Walter though, he was such a thoughtful and charming boy."
"Mother, Walter is twenty-two and Andrew twenty-one, so they are hardly little boys anymore."
"I know that, Matthew, but I like to think of them still embodying the wonderful characteristics they had when they were little."
"I will write to Collins first." Matthew picked up the paper again, considering the matter closed.
"Excellent!" Isobel refilled her tea, sipping it carefully, clearly pleased that he had made a decision.
~ O ~
The trip to London had been uneventful. The dress would be sent to Downton in two weeks, well in time for the wedding. Mary was in a bit of a haze as she retired upstairs to refresh from the trip, eager for a moment alone.
She let out a sigh of relief as she entered her bedroom. It was empty and looked as the calm sanctuary it had always been. Mary pulled off her gloves and started to remove her hat when her eyes fell on something on her vanity. A letter! She gasped and flung the hat on her bed, hurrying over to the vanity. Immediately recognizing Matthew's handwriting she ripped it open. As she pulled out the letter, she felt something else inside. Carefully unfolding the expensive stationery she gasped at the photograph, her hand flying to her mouth.
"My dashing darling."
Matthew's pale eyes looked up at her from the sepia photograph. She turned it over and smiled when she read the date, which confirmed her suspicion that the photograph had been taken quite recently. Below, scribbled in Matthew's handwriting, was a message for her.
"Mary, the next photograph I sit for will be my wedding portrait with you by my side - the most beautiful bride of all time! – Forever yours, Matthew," she read in a hushed whisper. "Oh, Matthew."
~ O ~
On the day of Matthew and Isobel's scheduled arrival, Mary woke up with a start. She sat up in bed, her heart beating frantically as she gasped for air. Jumping out of bed she grabbed her dressing gown, not bothering to ring for Anna before bolting from her room.
Mary tied her robe as she hurried towards her destination. She knocked gently and was greeted by her mother's soft voice asking her to come in.
"Good morning, Mama."
"Mary! What in the world brings you here this early in the morning?"
"Oh, Mama," Mary exclaimed and hurried to her mother's side, taking a seat on her father's side of the bed. "I can't do this."
"What do you mean?" Cora set the tray aside at the foot of the bed.
"I can't do it. I can't marry Matthew!"
"Oh, my darling," Cora opened her arms and Mary threw herself against her. "Everything will be all right." Cora stroked Mary's hair as she held her daughter.
"I don't see how it could!" Mary wailed. She looked up at Cora. "I know nothing about being a wife. Matthew will despise me."
"Of course not!" Cora huffed. "He adores you, and you know it."
"Perhaps, and I do love him so much," Mary said and wiped her cheeks. "That's why I can't marry him. I can never be the wife he deserves."
"Mary, stop it!" Cora said sternly and shook Mary a little. "I didn't know anything at all about being a countess, or a wife for that matter, when I married your father. But I learned, and so will you."
Mary nodded and sniffled. "What if he expects me to run the house? I haven't the faintest idea how to go about that." She looked at Cora with new alarm in her eyes. "Do you think he expects me to cook? Clean?"
"Mary," Cora rolled her eyes. "You know very well that Isobel has a cook and a maid. They might even take on a new kitchen maid."
"How do you know all this?" Mary stared wild-eyed at her mother.
"Isobel told me. I suggested that she talk Matthew into using some of the money from your father and me to hire another maid, since the current one will now be attending to both you and Isobel."
"Oh, Mama, thank you." Mary smiled weakly and again wiped her face. "I must look dreadful."
Cora gently stroked Mary's cheek. "In my eyes you will always be beautiful, my darling, but to be honest with you, crying like this is not becoming for your pale complexion." She nudged Mary to get up. "Use my washbasin and clean yourself up, my dear."
Mary eased out of the bed and walked over to splash some water on her face. She gently patted her face dry and folded the towel neatly next to the bowl.
"Much better." Cora held out her hands to her and Mary took them, sitting down again. "Mary, it's normal to be scared, and it's perfectly all right to admit it. I will help you as much as I can. If you wish, you may join me when I meet with Mrs. Hughes tomorrow to go over the menus and preparations for the wedding."
"Could I really? Oh, Mama, thank you." Mary beamed at her mother.
"I never thought you would be that excited at the prospect of listening to me discussing the running of the house with the housekeeper." Cora smiled teasingly at Mary, who made a face.
"I suppose it never held much appeal in the past."
"Now hurry along, darling. O'Brien will be here soon, and you should ring for Anna to get you ready. Matthew and Isobel will be here at noon."
"Yes, Mama." Mary stopped by the door and looked at her mother over her shoulder. She smiled, and the countess smiled in return. "Thank you."
"Always."
~ O ~
Mrs. Hughes sighed and looked at the list again. No matter what she did with the sleeping arrangements, some people would not be happy. A knock on the door startled her and she looked up.
"Yes, Mr. Carson?"
"I wonder if this is a good time to discuss the decorating of the grand hallway?"
"Can it wait?" She sighed and glanced down at the guest list on her desk. "I'm trying to sort out the bedrooms for the wedding guests."
"Certainly." He made a face, clearly disappointed with her response.
"On second thought, perhaps taking a break from it would do me good." She smiled and gestured for him to enter.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes."
Mr. Carson placed the list on her desk, explaining his need for a few of her maids to help with the flowers. Mr. Moseley would deliver them the day before to ensure their freshness.
"I'm sure that can be arranged, Mr. Carson. Anna can't be spared, however, since her ladyship has requested her services for Lady Mary."
"Of course, of course," he said quickly, a tiny smile emerging on his lips. "I almost can't believe that it's really happening."
"Your precious Lady Mary is not a little girl anymore, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes at the look on his face.
"She's hardly mine, Mrs. Hughes," he muttered. "Though, I admit, I think very fondly of her. More so in fact than her sisters."
"She didn't turn out so bad in the end," Mrs. Hughes responded, patting his hand. "Much thanks to you, I suppose. Don't think I haven't noticed how much you've doted on the girl over the years."
"She was the first, Mrs. Hughes." He leaned back in his seat, lost in thoughts of the past. "They all worried, you know, when year after year there was no sign of her ladyship falling with child."
"I imagine that the feeling is the same whether you're a countess or a farmer's wife."
"I would think so," he said with a heavy sigh. "Then, one day, the family announced that she was expecting. The whole house celebrated with them." He smiled and sighed again. "We all tried our best to cater to all her needs."
"I'm sure you did," Mrs. Hughes huffed.
Ignoring her cheeky comment, Carson continued. "Then after hours and hours in labor, Lady Mary entered the world."
"Fancy that. Even as a tiny babe, she was stubborn."
"Mrs. Hughes!" Carson's eyes widened in shock.
"Oh, don't bother. You know as well as I do that, besides his lordship, Lady Mary might be the most stubborn creature walking this earth."
"Perhaps, but there's no need to point it out." He ran his finger along the edge of her desk as he lost himself in thought again. "She was the most beautiful little girl I'd ever seen. As a toddler she almost never cried, only laughed. She would try to sneak up on me, tugging at my tails, then run off again, hoping that I would chase her." He chuckled. "She was not very good at keeping silent, her little giggles almost always gave her away."
Mrs. Hughes smiled at the old butler's tale. She knew Lady Mary was the closest thing to a daughter he would ever have. As much as she disliked the young lady at times, she did know that Lady Mary was fond of Mr. Carson.
"Don't worry, Mr. Carson," she said softly and smiled at him. "We will have the house looking perfect for the wedding, even if it will break my maids' backs."
"Let's hope it won't come to that, but thank you, nevertheless."
She watched him get up, taking the chart with him. Turning her thoughts back to the bedrooms, Mrs. Hughes pushed all thoughts of Mr. Carson and Lady Mary out of her head as she set out to tackle the intricate, and most definitely delicate, matter of who to put where.
~ O ~
It was a much calmer Lady Mary Crawley who a few hours later stood next to her mother, welcoming Matthew and Isobel. She smiled when Matthew placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
"My darling."
"I've missed you so, Matthew," she whispered.
His grip on her arms tightened a little before he let go. They held each other's gaze until Carson cleared his throat. Mary giggled and took Matthew's arm as the two followed their mothers inside.
"Have you really missed me?"
"Of course!"
Matthew grinned and kissed her cheek again. "I've missed you madly."
"I'm so glad that you and Isobel arrived before the guests start coming." Mary rolled her eyes. "Downton will be a madhouse, I'm afraid, once our relatives start to arrive for the wedding."
"Is your grandmother really coming over from America?"
"She is." Another eye roll had him chuckling, and she grinned mischievously at him. "But five days from now, we will escape it all!"
Matthew blushed at the thought of what her words implied. "I can't wait."
"So you are looking forward to it then?" she teased.
"I'm looking forward to all sorts of things," he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows.
Mary gasped and gave him a stern look. "Don't make me blush."
"I know you look forward to it all too, my darling, so don't even try to pretend otherwise."
"Perhaps," she quipped. "but I'm a lady and would never admit to such things to a man who is not my husband."
Matthew laughed at her silliness. Several heads turned as the two entered the drawing room, grinning at each other.
"You're still smiling at each other. Good," the Dowager Countess quipped. "I suppose we will still have a wedding."
"Of course we will, Granny." Mary smiled at her grandmother.
"Your grandfather and I once travelled across the country in order to attend a wedding. A most tiring trip, I can assure you. Once we arrived, the bride and groom only had eyes for each other, but by the next morning she was locked in her room, and he left without a word. Needless to say, the wedding never took place."
"Mama, I'm not sure how that will reassure Mary and Matthew," Cora said gently.
"It's not supposed to!" Violet frowned at her daughter-in-law. "This is the last chance for them to find out if this is really what they want."
"It is, Granny. I can assure you that I love Matthew, and I cannot wait to become his wife."
"In Manchester?" The Dowager Countess chuckled, amused. "I would never have guessed."
"Manchester, London, Bombay, or Downton – I don't care, Granny." Mary smiled at Matthew.
The Dowager Countess huffed, clearly not as sure about this as Mary. Cora shot her a warning glare which surprisingly made Violet Crawley bite back her next witty comment.
To Be Continued…