Chapter 19 – Changes
Cora sat stiffly at the desk in the library as she waited for the others to arrive for dinner. Her aristocratic bearing belied her American roots. She had become the title that her dowry had made attainable for her; and, but for her accent, no one would have suspected her a foreign-born commoner. She was resplendent this evening, and there was no hint of the rough-hewn heritage that her daughter, Mary, so often derided. The irony was – and it was clear – that Mary's stately beauty and poise came directly from her mother. And now, Cora feared Mary had also inherited the hot-blooded boldness that had made her grandfather one of the wealthiest men in America. While that temperament may have served his purposes, its application in Mary's circumstances could prove to have quite the opposite effect.
Cora rose from the desk. She had no heart to finish her letter to Sybil. She had related to her the excitement of the wedding preparations and she had written of her concerns for Sybil in these early weeks of her pregnancy, but Mary's current tactic preoccupied her, and she could think of nothing else. Mary had not yet returned home, and the dinner hour was almost upon them. She suspected that Mary was with him in a passionate rendezvous that they had arranged in clandestine fashion. Cora could appreciate very well that the alliance between Mary and Matthew was the best possible outcome for the Grantham estate. However, that consideration, although substantial, should not outweigh all others. It was uncanny to her that Mary should persist in this conduct when she had already brought the family to dishonour and ridicule with the late Mr. Pamuk.
Carson entered the library and the Countess of Grantham looked to him. "The Dowager Countess has arrived, m'Lady," he announced. "Shall I show her into the drawing room, Ma'am?"
"Yes, of course, Carson, thank you. I will be there in a few minutes."
Cora collected her thoughts and sorted her feelings. With a grand sigh, she headed towards the hallway. She had assumed that the War, once over, would become but a distant memory soon to be forgotten. Everything, she had told herself, would soon settle to its rightful place, but things had not gone that way at all. Sybil's indiscriminate choice of husband had been the first omen. And this affair between Matthew and Mary was yet another sign that things would never be the same again.
Cora entered the drawing room, greeting the Dowager Countess with a polite apology. They exchanged pleasantries about the weather and the wedding plans. Lord Grantham soon joined them, and it wasn't long before the most senior Grantham commented on the absence of her two granddaughters.
"Edith should be here shortly," Cora replied. "As for Mary, who knows? She went riding this afternoon and, so far, hasn't returned." Cora's mouth was set in a firm and unmoving line.
"Why do I sense that the issue here amounts to more than simply being late for dinner?" The Dowager Countess looked down the bridge of her nose to her daughter-in-law.
"I think she may be with Matthew," Cora answered her. Her tone was veiled with displeasure.
"And what of it? The last I heard they were still affianced and he was still the heir," replied the elder countess. "If you ask me, everything is as it should be."
Carson entered the drawing room, announcing the arrival of Isobel Crawley.
"Good evening, everyone. I'm sorry I'm late," Cousin Isobel said as she spread her smile among the group. "So Matthew is not here. I thought he might be."
"Have you no inkling of where he might be?" Lord Grantham asked hopefully. "Perhaps working late?"
"Naturally, that was the first place I checked," Isobel nodded in Lord Grantham's direction. "The office was closed. I'm certain he'll turn up. I've never known Matthew to completely disregard the hour without good reason." She sat down on the settee next to Cousin Violet.
Lady Edith chose that moment to enter the room and it was a fortunate distraction, from Lord Grantham's point of view. She greeted everyone cheerily and seemed eager to give an account of her afternoon. She had taken to assisting Sir Anthony Stralan with his daily errands, Sir Anthony having lost the use of his right arm in the War. As Robert understood the arrangement, Sir Anthony had agreed to his daughter's assistance, provided he paid her a regular stipend. According to Cora, Sir Anthony was very clear this was to be a purely platonic enterprise, hence his invitation that Edith be properly compensated for valuable services rendered. The premise was unusual for a woman of Edith's rank and social station, but Lady Edith was a hard worker and she had been well-trained as a nurse's attendant. All in all, Lord Grantham was happy to see his daughter preoccupied in a pastime that she enjoyed with a gentleman employer whom he liked and respected.
His mother had another view. She was quick to caution Cora and Robert on the dimmer prospects of this situation. "Are you quite sure this is an advisable position for Edith?" She lowered her voice and continued, "She could very well turn out to be his Jane Eyre, tied to a half-man for the rest of her life."
"Mother, Sir Anthony can hardly be classified as half a man. He is a war hero and nothing less," Lord Robert declared. "In any event, I'm assured that he has no interest in her that way."
"And so it begins," she replied smugly. "You would do well to read the book, Robert."
"I have read it, Mother," he replied quickly. "As I understand it, Jane's reconciliation with Rochester was a happy ending, despite Rochester's disabilities." He smiled at her and sipped on his aperitif.
The Dowager Countess pursed her lips. She replied smartly, "Charlotte would have done well to re-visit Thornfield Hall sometime after the wedding. A proper epilogue would have told the sadder tale, I'm sure." She smoothed her skirt.
The dinner gong sounded. Cora hung back to speak to her husband and allowed the others to precede her into the dining room. She grabbed his arm. "It is no longer a matter for speculation. Mary is with Matthew," Cora stated to her husband in hushed tones.
Lord Grantham looked back at her blankly. "Cora, really, what did you expect? You created this situation when you imposed an unforgiving moratorium on their affection for one another. Is it any wonder that she's run off to see him?" He raised his eyebrows towards her and said nothing further. He proceeded to the dining room and she followed in a huff. Her consternation was thinly disguised.
After everyone was seated, Carson handed a note to His Lordship. Robert, surprised, opened the note quickly. With a straight face, he addressed the table: "It appears that Mary and Matthew will not be joining us this evening after all. Mary accepted his invitation to dine with him at Crawley House tonight. They send their regrets." He placed the note beside his cutlery.
Cora reached over and grabbed the note from its resting place near her husband. She read it quickly and turned to Cousin Isobel. "Did you have any role in this?" she asked her pointedly, her words bound with anger. It would not be the first time that Isobel Crawley had ushered one of her daughters into the corridors of unconventional behaviour.
Isobel Crawley turned to face her squarely. "Of course not, Cora. I am as surprised as you are." Isobel looked away as she paused to consider this development. Matthew had placed her in a very awkward position.
"Now what do you have to say, Robert?" Cora stared at him with fire in her eyes. Her husband returned her stare with a forbearance that gave no ground. "You know how I feel, Cora, and now is not the time to discuss it. Please."
Cousin Violet chimed in. "Really, I fail to see the strife in this. They are both respectable, mature adults. I quite admire them both." She looked at Robert and then to Cora. "Mary could not have made a finer match if she had been engaged to a Royal. If anyone deserves the benefit of any doubt, it would be Matthew."
"Thank you, Cousin Violet," Isobel uttered finally. "We can agree on that score."
Cora could no longer restrain herself. "Well, then. It will surprise you both to know that Mary and Matthew have already crossed that line," she announced sorely. "In this very house."
Robert shook his head gravely. "Please, Cora," he said softly to her.
Lady Edith, who had watched the exchange eagerly, set down her wineglass and said brightly, "Ma-ma, be that as it may, Mary has done far worse than this. At least on this occasion, she is to be married." The other four turned to her, each face bearing the same expression of absolute appall.
"Thank you, Edith," Cora said to her harshly. "You have said quite enough."
The room fell mute until the Dowager Countess sensed an obligation upon her to breach the awkward moment. "Now, now. Let us all endeavor to maintain a reasonable and proper perspective. Perhaps they have acted precipitously, but they are to be married in less than a fortnight."
Isobel took a long draught from her wine glass. There was much that she could say in this situation with the knowledge that Matthew had imparted to her about Mary's past. But the better part of valor is discretion, she reminded herself. She chose the high road and began bravely, "You might expect that I would be terribly disappointed in Matthew here, but I cannot be. I am, and will always be, immensely proud of him." She looked at Cora. "He survived the War. Under his command, his platoon triumphed at the Battle of Amiens, and he almost paid for it with his life." She paused. "I imagine at the Front he must have asked himself more than once if he would ever know love, if he would ever have that chance again." She looked at all of them. "So as much as I wish he had exercised more discipline in these circumstances, I, for one, will not pass judgment on them."
"Well said, Cousin Isobel," Robert spoke out clearly. "I could not agree more." He glanced at everyone in turn. Cousin Violet appeared suitably moved by Cousin Isobel's words. "Hear, hear," she said softly. As for Cora, she stared down at her plate in silence. Lord Robert rang for Carson. His appetite had returned.
At Crawley House, Matthew and Mary were entangled on his bed, both fully clothed. Matthew's hand was under her skirt, bracing her leg around his right hip as he kissed her. He stopped to look at her and moved his hand to her face. He held her cheek gently. "Mary, I don't want this day to end. How I wish you could stay with me tonight," he said to her softly. "I am so utterly consumed by my love for you." His lips were shiny and wet from her kisses.
Mary's eyes burned with desire for him. "We don't have much time, darling," she reminded him. She sat up and removed her shoes. Next, she stood up, reached under her skirt, and pulled down her drawers gingerly. She reached for Matthew then and pulled him up from the bed. As he stood in front of her, she began to undo his pants. While they kissed, she reached into his briefs and pulled him out. She began to stroke him gently. He moaned. "Oh, Mary," he whispered. His knees went weak, forcing him to sit. She climbed on top of him, with her skirt lifted. He was ready and so was she. She lowered herself onto him until he filled her up. She gasped softly and began to rock her hips slowly.
"Oh, Matthew, I love you. I love this with you," she said softly. Matthew was panting now. He lay back and stared at her as she moved to a steady, sultry rhythm. He reached under her skirt and felt the muscles of her thighs move as they worked on him. Mary held his gaze and leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest. They each shifted their hips, bringing Matthew deeper inside of her. "I'm very close now," she whispered to him, breathing quickly. She maintained her rhythm, relishing the fullness of him. Suddenly, she reached for it, that final searing quiver that would undo her. Mary drew her breath in sharply twice and then again. He watched her as she came and he felt her tremble. In an instant, his arousal reached its peak. He closed his eyes and thrust upward with the surge. All of his muscles gave way under the force of his rapture. He groaned. He felt her lips on his and he opened his mouth for her. Their tongues met while Mary continued to sway on him until they were both spent.
Perhaps a minute had passed when Matthew stopped their kiss to look at her. He caught her gaze. "Promise me that you will never leave me, Mary," he asked her quietly. "Promise me."
Mary raised herself on her arms and looked down at him. "My dear Matthew," she replied. "How could I leave you? I could not go on living without our love for each other."
He looked at her intently. "Still, you must promise me." His eyes were a steely blue-gray, and they shone back at her like mirrors. Mary sensed a heavy darkness in him and she felt his need keenly. "I promise you, Matthew, I shall never leave you… never." She lay against him and held him tightly. She raised her head and looked at him again. "I will never ever leave you," she repeated softly, as she stroked his hair. Matthew sighed. She kissed him tenderly on the lips.
Matthew's spell left just as quickly as it came. "As far as desserts go, that was by far the sweetest and the most delectable that I've ever had," he said to her, smiling. Mary laughed as she raised herself off the bed. "We must hurry, Matthew. Who knows what awaits us at the big house." She lifted her drawers off the floor. The day's activities had left her with a pleasant burn between her legs. She would have that to comfort her until the next time.