A/N: Thank you for the reviews, especially from the Mary/Matthew shippers! :D I hope you enjoy this chapter! xx

Chapter 2:

The news that Mr Pamuk was dead had come as a rather harsh blow to everyone. It was not expected and the man so young, nobody would ever have thought it.

Matthew found himself pondering the events of that weekend as he walked into the village. Mr Pamuk had seemed nice enough – perhaps a little full of himself – but nice enough, for a Turk. He had seemed in full health, at the height of his youth, ready to conquer the world and the women within it.

She'd certainly seemed impressed by him.

But then, was he really surprised? He was a handsome stranger from foreign lands and he could certainly talk the talk. She had practically flung herself at him.

But why did he care? He thought nothing of her; she was merely his cousin, a distant relative he was forced to dine with. He had no thoughts for her at all. And she certainly had no thoughts for him, except disdain.

It was this final thought that brought him to a standstill right outside the post office, lost in thought. He never heard the little bell tinkle as the door opened until he was propelled into by a young woman.

"Oh, I am sor-…Gwen!" he exclaimed as he realised the young woman was in fact, the maid who had been singing all those months ago.

He'd seen her around the house, of course, and always made a point of smiling kindly in her direction, even occasionally greeting her when nobody else was around. He liked her; he liked her simplicity, her sweet yet shy smile and her obvious embarrassment whenever anyone looked her way.

Gwen's eyes were firmly gazing at the floor and she was clutching her packages tightly to her chest, the tell-tale sign of embarrassment creeping up from beneath the collar of her coat and up her neck.

"Good day, sir," she stammered, her grip tightening on her package. As an afterthought she bobbed him an awkward curtsey and it was Matthew's turn to be embarrassed.

"None of that," he said softly, looking about to see if anyone was watching. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing!" Gwen said a little too quickly, she shook her head as if to emphasise her point and he couldn't help but notice how a few stray strands of silky red hair came loose beneath her hat.

Matthew smiled warmly at her and nodded towards her packages, "Are those things for that course you're taking? I hear you want to leave service?"

Gwen met his eyes for the first time and they widened in horror, "Who told you?"

"Mr Carson's telling anyone who'll listen," Matthew grinned, trying to put Gwen at ease. "Don't worry; I think it a fine ambition for you."

Gwen blinked at him incredulously, "You don't think I'm bein' a fool?"

"A fool?" Matthew cried. "Of course not! Why ever would I think that?"

Gwen's eyes lowered away from his and he noted the sad tone that filtered into her voice as she spoke, he truly felt sorry for her. She was clearly unsure of her own decisions and the reaction of people around her was starting to influence her choices.

"What anyone else says doesn't matter. If you want it and it's right for you, then you should…no, must do it!" Matthew explained gently. "I'd think you more a fool if you let other people's narrow minded views alter the future you want."

"But what if I fail? Everyone'll laugh and I'll 'ave given up a good position. Maybe I ought to stay in service, at least I know where I am wi' that." Gwen's eyes lowered further and she clutched her parcels as if her life depended on it. Matthew couldn't help but wryly think that her life did depend on them.

"You'll only fail if you believe you'll fail," Matthew answered. He should know, for long enough he believed he'd failed in life but recently, he was starting to see that failure only came from within. Believe in yourself and you can succeed. "What does your family say?"

"I daren't tell 'em. They'll think me mad and I'd 'ate to disappoint 'em," Gwen answered, her cheeks glowed softly with lingering awkwardness. To Gwen it was a failing of hers, to Matthew it was endearing. "But I don't think I'm mad!"

Matthew chuckled at her fiery conclusion and agreed, "I don't either! I know what it is to disappoint one's family. I've been doing it ever since I was a boy."

"What, by being heir to an Earl?" Gwen quipped, her eyes danced with brief mischief before dying in horror at what she'd just said. "I'm sorry! I never meant to be impertinent…please, forgive me!"

Matthew laughed heartily at this, he had thoroughly enjoyed her rather sharp joke and she had a point when she put it like that. "Don't be sorry! You're right really, but my mother never really approved of me being the heir, but then she never approved of me being a solicitor. She wanted me to be a doctor like my father, like his father, like her father, like my uncle – a solicitor was a disappointment. But it was what I wanted to do. I suppose people may think me a failure, I'm not exactly the likeliest of heirs, but I don't think I'm a failure and nor should you. Because you're not."

Matthew had never spoken like that before to anyone, let alone a woman he barely knew, a maid who worked in the house he would one day inherit. But that was effect she had on him. And he liked it a lot. He looked at the parcel in her hand as a way of distracting himself from gazing at her too intently.

"Can I see?" he asked, nodding in the direction of her arms.

Gwen shifted a little and gazed at the parcels in her arms. With a small amount of reluctance she opened up the first parcel and held out a few examples of her work that had been returned to her.

"They're not very good," she mumbled as he took the papers from her.

He studied them carefully before looking up with a smile, "Have you done these?" he asked.

"Yes," Gwen answered, thrown by his wide smile.

"These are really good. The spacing and the alignment is really, very good," Matthew said, flicking back and forth between the sheets. "I'm impressed."

Gwen blushed at the compliment, "Thank you, sir."

"Have you been applying for secretarial jobs?"

"One or two, but I've not heard anythin'," Gwen answered.

"Well, if you need any help, just ask. It's a shame we don't need a secretary where I work or I'd offer you a job right now!"

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," Gwen said, blushing further. "Lady Sybil has been helping me; she's offered to write me a reference."

Matthew chortled at this, "Now that doesn't surprise me! Don't let Sybil take control, once she gets fired up there's no stopping her! Make sure it's what you want and not what Sybil tells you to want."

Gwen smiled lightly, "I'm grateful to Lady Sybil."

"Of course you are, just remember to ask me if you need anything though." Matthew said with a knowing smile. He actually hoped she would come to him for help, helping Gwen wouldn't be a challenge at all, it would be a pleasure.

Matthew handed back the sheets of paper to Gwen, as she took hold of them, her hand grazed lightly against his, sending shivers along his arm. She must have felt something too for she looked up and met his gaze, her cheeks flushing quickly. Matthew's heart leapt a little as his eyes locked with hers and for a few, brief seconds; the world seemed to fall away. It only lasted a few seconds but it was enough and as the moment ended he realised he was staring; he quickly dropped his eyes, confused by the feelings he was experiencing.

"I…I best be gettin' back," Gwen mumbled, dropping her eyes and clutching at the papers.

"Yes, yes, I must be getting a move on too," Matthew stammered, "nice seeing you again, Gwen."

Gwen couldn't get any words out, she merely nodded, mumbled something incoherent, half curtseyed-half stumbled and dashed away from him.

He watched her rush away from him; he couldn't help but let his eyes follow and remain fixed upon her. There was something about her, something innocent and simple. She didn't look down her nose at him, didn't sneer as he spoke and genuinely seemed interested in what he had to say. Perhaps it was her position in life that made her that way but at least she didn't talk in riddles, didn't set out to ridicule him, she just talked honestly.

And yet there was some spark with her.

She knew what she wanted from life and was determined to get it, no matter how hard it might be. He had to admire that in her, life for a girl like Gwen was hard enough, changing that life was almost impossible and yet, there she was, trying all the same. It was to be applauded, whereas others may moan and complain about the tedium and bad hand that life had dealt them, Gwen wasn't ready to give in, she was taking control. Even if it was in her own shy, insecure way.

He could almost see himself in her.

xXx

Gwen didn't realise she was trembling until the papers in her hands began to rustle noisily. She clutched them tighter and tried to stop the nervous shaking that threatened to overwhelm her. Her legs felt strange, wobbly almost, as if they didn't belong to her body and she began to worry she would be so overcome she would collapse in a heap.

Her Aunt Hilda used to suffer from swoons; Gwen's mother had always insisted such things didn't exist, that women who swooned were attention seekers with nothing better to do. But right now, Gwen felt a certain empathy with Aunt Hilda for she was sure she was experiencing the onset of a swoon right now.

The only difference here was that Aunt Hilda swooned almost every day over anything and nothing; Gwen was swooning over Mr Crawley and had never swooned in her life.

She could still feel his fingers brushing against hers, could still feel the shivers it sent through her body, could still see the way those eyes of his gazed at her with such intensity, she was sure he was gazing into her soul.

Was this really happening? Was she really developing an attraction to Mr Crawley? How had that happened? He was kind, he understood – but that was no reason to be attracted to him!

And of course, nothing could ever come of it. He wouldn't look at her twice, she was a maid and he was a solicitor who would one day be an Earl. She had nothing that would tempt him, and she didn't want to tempt him! She was being ridiculous! She shouldn't even be thinking like this.

Mr Crawley was just being polite, he didn't think of her in any way except a maid who sang inappropriately and was on a fool's errand to better herself. No, he wouldn't look at her twice.

Yet, as she turned back to look at him, she saw him watching her and her little heart leapt.

Maybe he would look at her twice.