Sir Richard Carlisle looks round the Great Hall, feeling increasingly ill-at-ease among the sea of military and nursing uniforms. He will never belong at Downton. Everyone - from the Earl to the butler to the lowliest housemaid - seem to be engaged in a conspiracy to make him feel unwelcome and different. He sees their strained expressions every time he forgets to serve himself at breakfast, wears the wrong clothes, uses the wrong forms of address or expresses views which are simply too direct and modern.
He is used to being courted and feted in the City; at Downton he is simply ignored and abandoned. But why has his fiancée abandoned him? Why did she show him only the most cursory attention at breakfast? Why would she prefer to spend time with her heroic, yet crippled cousin, the man who will inherit her house and her mother's fortune? Why does the Earl so clearly prefer Matthew Crawley as a son-in-law, despite his disability?
He closes his eyes, trying to quell his anger, wondering if he could simply drive back to London...He hears a familiar Scottish voice and a less familiar American one. He opens his eyes to see the doctor and the Countess coming in from the drawing room, deep in a discussion about beds and nurses. For the first time that day, he allows himself a small smile. Now there's a woman at home in her environment. She is clearly relishing the new-found responsibility of running the convalescent home.
She has noticed him. He sees the puzzled frown, the hurried way she excuses herself from the doctor and makes her way over...He unconsciously straightens up and pulls his shoulders back. He is surprised by his own eagerness to talk to her; maybe he is just glad someone is paying attention to him.
"Sir Richard-"
"Richard - please." He smiles pleasantly. "I see the house is very different from my first visit."
She nods politely, looking round in concern.
"Mary is with Matthew Crawley." He answers her unspoken question, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.
He sees the smallest of sighs before her social smile returns. He listens to her 'suggested activities' in growing frustration - the Library, a walk in Downton's grounds, riding...is she aware exactly what he is doing for her daughter?
"Do you know about Haxby Park? I intend to buy it, and of course add the necessary renovations and modernisations."
She nods approvingly. "It certainly needs a lot of work - I'll look forward to seeing the results." Her smile now is genuine and he returns it with some relief - finally, someone who understands what he is trying to do for Mary. "Perhaps you could arrange to show Mary around Haxby tomorrow, Richard? "
He readily agrees. It is a good plan and her enthusiasm is infectious.
Cora sits at her dressing table the next day, sharing her list of daily tasks and complaints with her long-suffering maid: "I'll need to redo the roster again. I don't know how Major Clarkson expects us to manage if he keeps recalling the nurses..."
"I'm sure you'll work something out, milady." O'Brien fastens the last pins into her mistress' hair, tidying up the few loose strands.
"...and I only hope he discharges some of the men today, before transferring any more from the hospital."
Both women look up when the door opens, although there was only one person that would walk in without knocking. Cora quickly dismisses her maid and graces her husband with an small smile which he quickly reciprocates.
"You're up early." He bends down to kiss her cheek softly. "I barely see you these days."
"I've got so much to do, darling." She stands up, seeing her husband trail after her as she leaves the room. "I want to talk to Thomas before Clarkson gets here for his morning rounds."
"Did you know Mary's going to Haxby today?"
She nods. Yes, she certainly remembers that conversation with Mary last night. She never expected to have to remind Mary of her responsibilities and obligations to her fiancée.
"I mean," Robert continues, "the Russells have been at Haxby for generations...only to be turfed out by a newspaper baron whose only redeeming feature, as far as I can see, is a surfeit of cash."
"He is buying Haxby for Mary," she replies wearily.
Robert scoffs. "I only wish I could believe that."
"Surely you don't want Haxby kept as an empty shell, darling? Wouldn't you'd rather see it properly restored and maintained?"
She recalls saying the same thing yesterday and Robert's reply was the same as well - the usual tirade about 'ruining Haxby', 'sensitive restoration' and 'what's good enough for Downton...'
When did their conversations get so predictable?
Her attention drifts to her own plans for the day, mentally preparing herself for the inevitable negotiations with Clarkson. Now if she can just agree a common position with Thomas first...
"...I'll see you at luncheon, then." He follows her down the stairs.
"I can't darling. I've got too much work. I'm losing two of the nurses and I must rearrange the roster."
"But I'll be on my own," he replies mournfully. "I wish you'd told me. I could have fixed something up for myself."
"You could always ask Major Clarkson to join you. If you can't be on your own for one luncheon." She can't hide the exasperation in her voice - is luncheon really all he has to worry about? Yet as she heads to her makeshift office, she knows she ought to spend some time with her husband, to indulge him a little-
"Your Ladyship, Dr Clarkson is here. I've shown him to the Library."
"Thank you, Carson."
Something has to be done.
The morning at Haxby was pleasant enough, if he ignored the haughty remarks about 'your lot' and 'my lot.' But as soon as Mary's duty was complete, she left him to 'take Matthew out'. Richard's suggestion that he accompany them on their walks was met with horror.
It is not enough, he realises, to have her marry him when her heart, and her time, will always belong to Matthew Crawley. Mary needs a rival for her affections and Matthew needs a new nursemaid.
He marches with purpose into the Library.
"Richard." The Countess stands from her desk to meet him - if she is surprised to see him, she doesn't show it.
He sees the neatly ordered forms and notes on the bureau, wondering whether to offer help and quickly dismissing the idea. He knows from experience how satisfying it is to be in charge and see the results of hard work. And at least she is doing something productive, unlike her husband who struts around in a Colonel's uniform despite never having been near the Front.
"The hospital must be quite a logistical and organisational challenge," he begins.
"Indeed." She smiles at him expectantly, her tone clearly suggests he is keeping her from that 'challenge'. He quickly drops the attempted flattery and comes straight to the point:
"Mary and I have just returned from Haxby Park. I intend to put an offer in when I return to London."
Her smile softens. "I expect Mary is delighted to be so close to Downton."
"You would think so." He is unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. They both know Mary has never shown anything resembling delight in his presence. He strolls to the window, unsurprised to see his fiancé sat outside with Matthew Crawley, deep in conversation. He is instantly jealous - how can she talk to Matthew with such easiness when she shows him only cold disdain? And what are they talking about so earnestly?
She joins him at the window, following his gaze to the two people on the bench. "I'm afraid Mary has taken Matthew's condition very badly." Her tone was quiet and wistful. If he was ever in any doubt that the family wanted Mary and Matthew to marry, the confirmation was there in her voice.
"Clearly," he retorts in frustration . Her eyes widen in surprise at his abrupt manner. He forces himself to speak softly. "And there's no chance of recovery?"
She shakes her head sadly.
Normally, he would allow himself to consider the implications for the estate and the family - he may not be familiar with aristocratic customs but he understands the rules of primogeniture. For now, he has only one concern:
"You'd think he was in Mary's sole charge. I worry it will mean a big adjustment for her, when we marry."
She immediately grasps his implication and carefully reassures him: "I don't think Matthew has any desire to stop her marrying, Richard. Quite the contrary."
"Maybe. But is she as convinced as she is that they have no future?"
"What are you saying?"
He finally has her full attention; she is taking his concerns seriously. "I suppose I'm asking whether you want Mary to have children. Because if you do, isn't it time for Lavinia Swire to come back into his life?"
He steps back slightly, letting his words and his suggestion sink in. Although she continues to stare out the window, he knows what her answer will be. After all, Lady Grantham is pragmatic and sensible and he offers Mary a real marriage and the chance of a family-
"But Matthew sent Lavinia away, Richard."
"I can bring Lavinia back from London...that's if she'll be made welcome."
He tears his attention away from the two people outside to watch her reaction. She is staring intently out the window, deep in concentration. She finally gives a small nod."Perhaps it is for the best."
He should be pleased that the Countess has agreed so readily to his plans. Yet he sees the anguish in her eyes. Are those tears? Beneath his reassuring smile, he feels inexplicable guilt.