The Lady and The Lawyer

Four

'It Couldn't Stay Bright Forever'

Mary,

We saw our first bout of action the other day. God must have no mercy on the poor souls of soldiers, Mary. In this barren land, everyone and everything seems to have turned icily atheist: only the most devout still pray to their god. The others, I do not even know what runs through their minds. We all pray to family and luck now: the power of religion seems to have been lost. You never know how terrible the world is, and the horrors it can do, until you see how the shrapnel destroys a man. Bodies and minds have been tattered by their flying pieces, and I am convinced more lives have been lost by it than an actual gun.

I am sorry, my love, for giving you all this terrible news. It is surely not an image that will keep your hopes up at home. Mary, I count the days until I see you and Downton again. There is no heaven in these forsaken trenches, and all I have to keep me going is memories. The green grasses of Downton, your father's stern stare, the magnificence of it all is almost heartbreaking to remember. But most of all, I picture you. If only you could see the effect you've had on me; it is most splendid. When some men have lost all hope, and thus the desire to go on, I persevere because of you. I love you, Mary, and wait oh so anxiously to see you once more.

We will be moving camp again soon, so I must go now. I wish you all the best at home.

All my love,

Matthew

Her hands were shaking, and she was not sure they'd ever stop. The gramophone on the other side of the room played the melody of Cannon in D Major; a song which usually kept her spirits light. But tonight, as the candlelight was dying out, and the blackening sky consumed more of the room, it hummed nothing but misery. It had been almost four months now since Matthew had left, and each day was another to worry about his survival. She kept anticipating that letter that would inform her of her fiancée's death and destroy utterly everything she loved about the world. Thank god that message was still nowhere to be found.

Mary ran her hand over Matthew's fine writing, and could feel the places where his pen had dug deeper into the paper. She tried to imagine how he looked as he'd written this letter, and where he'd been at the time. But other than the descriptions he'd given her, Mary knew nothing about the war. Last time he'd mentioned a location, he said simply France. A part of her wondered if even he knew his exact location. Her heart churned and bent as she thought of the hell Matthew must be going through, and clutched his letter tighter in her hand. Wherever he was, it seemed dark; eternally so.

There was a slight knock at the already opened door, and Mary turned around to see her mother walking into the room. Even Cora had lost some of her pride-filled posture, and her outfits became plainer by the day. Mary smiled sadly, and patted the seat next to her. Closing the distance, her mother sat down beside her and sighed.

"What is it, Mother?" Mary turned slightly on the pinkish couch so she could face Cora better. The mother gave one of her disappointed smiles that hinted to the fact she was going to be the better person.

"Your cousin from America wants to come and visit with us," Cora said simply, shaking her head a tad. Mary was completely taken aback by this, and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Come here," she said, "during a war?" None of it made sense to her. Any logic that presented itself in this matter was absolute rubbish. When a small silence fell between the two women, Mary realized what she'd said. If it had been not even a year ago, the first thing in her head would have been 'an American relative?' or, 'we don't even know her!'. It had been quite some time since Cora had spoken to her sister, and Mary couldn't even remember the last time she'd met the woman.

"Apparently so, yes," Cora conceded. "I just received the letter today." She stroked the crease of the paper, her mind seeming to be somewhere else entirely.

"What does Papa say?" Her father was usually on her side in matters such as this. Where Cora was a light spirit, Mary and Robert were always more logical about decisions.

"He thinks it is something we should do," Cora said. Mary froze. Even her father was agreeing to having an American, which they'd never met, come to stay with them during a time of great war? Things were completely out of the norm. And Mary was never stable when life tilted out of synch.

"Why," Mary said shallowly, barely able to lift her eyes to Cora.

"Because family is the most important thing now. If coming to England will help your cousin, then it is what we must do."

Mary was in no mood to argue with her mother. Matthew's words still swam hauntingly in her head, and she was overwhelmed by life. Giving a polite smile, she nodded.

"Then it is what we must do," she echoed, rising from her seat and walking from the room letter in hand. Mary Crowley was numb to the bone.

So a very short chapter, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of writing this fandom. I promise the plot will pick up soon, and I'd love any suggestions you have. To all of those who read and review this, thank you for sticking with it even though it's taken me so long to update. I truly does mean a lot to me.

Reviews are love!