The Lady and The Lawyer

One

'Lost in This World'

Mary Crawley had never been one to show emotion; she sometimes liked to think she got it from her grandmother Violet. But to admit that, would be an utter lie. She'd always been an emotional woman, but compared to Edith with her green envy, and Sybil with her persistent and strong opinions, Mary had constantly appeared dull and lackluster; leaving her with the coined name of 'Heartless'. If this was actually the truth, she did not know any more. Some days, she was the cold and stony witch with the figure of the biblical Eve, and those were the times she held her head highest. Mary somehow found ease in being what people expected; yet it also sickened her. She had never considered herself to be a humble rule follower, but she had to admit the system did work to her advantage. To be an upper class woman in a male dominated society certainly had its perks; but her free will was also greatly suffocated. Mary could have any dress, set of silverware, or pricy oil painting she desired, but her future was not fully in her power. Marriage; family; loyalty, and virginity… it was quite difficult to stay genuine and benevolent in a society where gossip and 'who slept with who' always roamed the streets of England.

Ever since the death of Cousin Patrick, her entire destiny had been a rocky and ever-changing foundation, and at times she'd felt it begin to crumble. Matthew Crawley had been the catalyst for the deterioration…

Or so she'd thought.

Mary knew from the first moment she saw him that he would be a hard man to resist; but she'd forced herself to create flaws in his handsome face. She could not, and would not, admit that his eyes were the genuine kind of beauty and sincerity that every man should posses. Instead, she viewed a set of conspiring cobalt eyes, just waiting to steal her future and fortune. Matthew had given her a smile, and she'd had to ignore the wondrous awe and innocence that sparkled on his gleaming teeth and swayed easily with every breath he took.

But it wasn't long until her fabricated flaws became taboo to even think of; his magnificence had overpowered any doubts that had been festering inside of Mary. She'd let her guard down then, and it was an exhilarating feeling. Only Matthew could share that memory with her. He had been the first to break her harsh exterior, and she hoped he'd be the last.

He certainly could be, given the events of the night prior. In the typical straightforward Matthew way, he'd proposed to her. There was no quartette, planned candlelit dinner, or a room full of expectant and greedy family members just waiting to see how the matrimony would benefit them. Instead, it was a kiss, a gaze, and a question. Mary did not care though, which type of proposal she'd gotten from Matthew; all that mattered was that he'd done it.

But as per usual, she had to let logic speak for her heart, and she'd told him she'd think about it. She'd thought long and hard, and sitting now on a wooden bench in the gentle July afternoon breeze, Mary knew her answer would be a yes. She only hoped that Matthew would still accept her despite her hesitance. She was sure he would, though; if he truly loved her, he'd understand.

Sliding her white silk glove up higher on her forearm, she waited eagerly for Matthew to appear. She'd sent for him about fifteen minutes ago, so it wouldn't be too much longer until he showed. Despite knowing him for nearly two years now, she still could not wait to watch the way his blue eyes caught the sunlight—especially when she gave him her answer. How would he respond?

A bashful smile, a paralyzed happiness, or the cliché embrace and spin? Whatever the case may be, she was prepared all the same.

"Mary," she heard Matthew greet, as he made himself known. Appearing from behind one of the numerous large tree trunks, Mary gazed in wonder at how his beige suit somehow illuminated his fair skin. "Carson said you would be out here…"

She knew he was expecting her to bring up the subject of the proposal, and she smiled knowingly. "Yes, well, I am here indeed." Mary stared at him, but Matthew gave no reply to her comment. Breathing, she continued on, "I think I have made you wait long enough for your answer." Her voice somehow sounded aloof, and that was far from what she wanted. To make her feelings more known, she inched closer to Matthew, careful not to dirty the end of her lavender dress too much, and enveloped her mild hands around his. She wished she could feel his skin right against her, but proper fashion would not allow such a thing.

"There is no need to sound so proper, Mary; I am only a middle class man after all." Matthew gave a little lighthearted smirk, and Mary shook her head in response.

"Maybe by how you were raised, but your argument is very weak as you stand behind the estate you are to inherit." Mary supplied Matthew with a small smile, and quickly continued talking before he could interject. "Matthew, my answer is yes; I believe it always will be."

The look on his face was reaction enough for her. Matthew looked like a child who had just received a bicycle on Christmas morning. Flipping their hands so that his now lay on top of Mary's he pulled her in closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I have no words," Matthew whispered, when their lips finally parted. "I love you, Mary. I promise you will be happy."

"I never doubted it for a moment," she returned in an uncharacteristic sweetness. "And I love you too." It felt right to say. Nothing was strained, nothing was too sickeningly sweet. It was Matthew and Mary, in all of their entirety, and she wouldn't change anything about it.

August, 1914

"You enlisted," Mary seethed, too silent in shock for her anger to really hit Matthew with its full force. "What in God's name compelled you to do such a thing?" She pressed a hand to her forehead, attempting to understand her fiancé's motives.

"Mary," he returned soothingly, "if England is at war, then I want to fight to protect it; and you. It is not a matter of what compelled me; it is a matter of duty. What type of man would I be if I ran from my loyalty and responsibility?" Truth be told, Matthew would be more than pleased to stay home safe with Mary at Downton, but that was not an option he was willing to consider.

"We haven't even married yet. What if you are killed, Matthew? I would not be able to live with that, knowing I let you go freely into this war. There are other ways to support England. Be a part of the effort at home." Mary had become too attached to watch Matthew be torn from her grasp to fight the Germans. The Kaiser could have all the medals and propaganda he wanted; but why did Matthew have to be killed for them?

"You know I cannot do that, Mary. If I could, I would certainly stay here with you—you know I would. But everyone has a duty to their country; I will not just sit by and experience the war through a newspaper. You have to be able to accept that." It broke his heart to do this, it really did. The look of utter pain that was plastered across Mary's face was enough to make him regret his decision, and a part of him wished he'd never enlisted. But he had, and he was going… that was the inevitable.

"Call me stubborn then, because I cannot justify you dying because German troops stepped on Belgium soil. It's so unfair." Mary shook her head, crossing her arms over her black dress. The color was eerily perfect for the mood of Downton since Britain had entered the war.

"I don't know why you're so convinced I will die, Mary. The war may last only a month or a year; we don't know. But have faith, will you? There are a lot worse things I could be leaving for."

"Worse than being shipped away from your home to suffer for a cause you do not fully understand or accept? I am sorry Matthew that I cannot be the obedient and blindly supportive wife, but I could not bear anything happening to you."

Matthew smiled. It was the sort of smile that represented the last day of the old way of life. He prayed that when he left, she'd remember him like this: smiling and confident, with all the love in the world for her. "You called yourself my wife," Matthew whispered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Matthew, of course I did. Although the Church may not recognize us as married, I certainly do."

"Whenever I leave Mary, I want you to remember me as the man who loves you. Whatever that means to you, that's what I want you to envision whenever you think of me." Standing in one of the many sitting rooms of the house, he moved closer to Mary, embracing her tightly. He felt her arms encircle his waist, and he closed his eyes. Soon this moment would feel like a warm dream to him…

"Why are you saying your goodbyes now?" Miraculously, Mary's voice did not crack as she'd expected it to.

"I leave tomorrow on the twelve o'clock train," Matthew told her, and he felt Mary stiffen.

"Tomorrow," she breathed breaking the hug. "Why so soon?"

"The government does not care about convenience, Mary. I wish I had more time; I'm sorry it happened like this."

Mary nodded, holding back the tears. Twirling her engagement ring on her finger, she prayed that soon she could have the wedding band as well, and that Matthew would be here to share the rest of her life with her.

So I just started watching Downton Abbey, and have fallen in love with it. I am not sure if I'm going to continue this, so please tell me your thoughts. I understand it was very short (and sadly not very detailed) I just wanted to take a preliminary crack at writing DA and Mary and Matthew. Ideas are always much appreciated.

Note: If I do decide to continue this story, I may go back and edit this chapter to add more detail and content; just an FYI.

Reviews are love