Hello, all. I had originally only intended this story to be at most two or three chapters, but after your enthusiastic responses and my own desire to pursue creating a lengthier fic, I found myself planning something quite a bit longer. Thus, this chapter isn't what I originally had planned. I felt like Matthew needed a bit more of an introduction since I'm writing him a little differently than in the show, and we are going to be with him for quite a while now. I still did throw in some smut, because I promised, and there will be more to come in the future. I'm already halfway through the next part, and I would have published it too, but I didn't think it exactly fit with this chapter. Sorry! It will be up soon. With that, please enjoy.

To say that it had been a long day for Matthew would have been an understatement. He had had to wake up early to see his mother off at the train station. He had slipped home afterwards to get a quick nap, and subsequently was almost late to work. When he finally did get there, there was an entire mountain of paperwork waiting for him. Apparently the firm had taken on a large, new case involving several companies which were trying to merge, and there was positively an ocean of contracts and regulations to sift through. Matthew had returned home wearily, ready for an early, quiet night, when he had received Lord Grantham's phone call inviting him to dinner. He had tried to politely reject the offer, but the earl sounded so enthusiastic about the proposition that he couldn't bring himself to crush his spirits.

He had to admit, dinner had been delicious. It had been pleasant to have company to share it with as well, especially with Mary looking so lovely tonight…

However, after the meal had concluded, Robert determinedly had locked him in conversation about "estate matters" for at least another two taxing hours. During this time, his cousin also managed to consumer several pitchers of port, which he also continued to push towards Matthew. Although he had consumed maybe a third of the alcohol the older man had indulged in, the lack of sleep and the drug had left him feeling quite out of it. When Robert announced that he was retiring to bed without going through to the drawing room, Matthew had been quite relieved, sensing the opportunity for his escape. After observing Robert's staggering attempts to exit the room, though, Matthew felt obligated to walk him to his bedroom; there was no way he could be trusted with the steps in that state, and Matthew had no desire to become the Earl of Grantham just yet. Thankfully, despite his inebriated state, Robert still managed to lead the way to his chambers, and after seeing him safely in the door and ringing for Bates, Matthew finally believed he could leave. However, his venture with Robert had led him to an entirely unfamiliar portion of the house. Consequently he found himself quite lost.

Matthew wandered for a little, too embarrassed to call a servant for help at this late hour. Besides, the journey hadn't been that long. He'd find his way out soon enough.

After continuing down several dark corridors, he began opening doors to try and get a sense of which section he was in at least. The first few rooms had been completely dark, and he didn't have the patience to search for a light, so after squinting into them, he continued on.

The room behind the fourth door was illuminated, and as glanced in at its dark burgundy walls, he just knew, somehow, that it was Mary's. Perhaps it was the regality of the finishings, or the gentle scent of her perfume, or simply intuition…

Matthew, heartbeat pounding, hand clenching at the brass knob, pondered what to do with this discovery. The hallway was completely empty, and although he had no idea of when the ladies would be coming up from the drawing room, the opportunity presented itself now. He might never have another again. Just a peek, Matthew thought, slipping inside quickly. He shut door as he slid through the gap, and exhaled.

So this was the great Lady Mary's bedroom. Matthew turned around in awe, taking in every detail: the day dress hanging on the outside of the wardrobe, the string of pearls on the dresser, the blanket piled slightly messily on the divan in the corner. He smiled at the book of Greek mythology perched atop her writing desk.

Eventually, the excitement of his initial discovery wore off, and Matthew again felt the effects of his exhaustion. Mary's bed caught his eye so deliciously, forbiddenly… Perhaps if he just lay down for a minute, he could recuperate enough energy for the walk home… He flopped down on top of the duvet, and let out a sigh.

…

"Matthew!" Mary cried as he thrust completely into her in one smooth, powerful motion. The feel of her so mind-shatteringly tight around her sent him to the brink of blissfully out of his mind. He let out a moan, even as she writhed beneath him, her soft body arching up against his. Matthew withdrew before slamming into her again, inciting further passionate cries from both of them at the marvelous sensation.

"Matthew! MATTHEW!" she called his name ever more desperately. Again Matthew pulled out. He paused for as long as he could bear before sliding into her at a deliriously slow pace, driving both of them mad. Her fingers wound into his hair and pulled his mouth against hers in a forceful kiss, stifling his moans.

Breathlessly, he broke the contact. "Mmm, Mary, my darling," he purred, slowing increasing the pace at which he rocked their hips together.

Suddenly something painfully and abruptly smacked across his face, and Matthew's eyes sprang open to see Mary again, this time above him, fully clothed, and looking none too happy. Oh. God. What have I done? he thought. Mortified at the possibility that he had vocalized his latest vision, he began furiously stammering an apology. "Oh God, Mary, I'm so sorry! Things have been very stressful at work, and I haven't been getting much sleep, and I suppose I just lay down for a second-"

"-in my room?" Mary's question hit him like a second smack.

Oh God, how was he supposed to answer that. Sorry, Mary, I just popped into your room because I'm utterly infatuated with you, perhaps more so than I thought, considering I just had an extremely erotic dream about you, and anyways I was just curious…

Somehow he didn't think that would go down well.

Of course, his lie wasn't much better received, considering he couldn't even meet her eyes, but he still deemed it wiser than the truth.

"Really, Cousin Matthew, of all the ungentlemanly things you've done since I've met you…"

"Ungentlemanly." Ha. If she only knew the half of it… Matthew stood quickly, straightening his clothes, tugging subtly at his pants and jacket to hide the evidence of his remaining arousal, which didn't seem to be decreasing at all, much to his discomfort. The sooner he escaped her presence, the better, so he leaped at the chance to make his exit.

"Well you see, Mr. Crawley, you can't just waltz out of here, since it's way past midnight and I'll be dead if anyone catches a man leaving my bedroom! So now we're in quite the predicament!"

Her voice cut through his reverie even as it expanded it, when the implications behind her words hit him.

He couldn't leave.

"I suppose I'll just have to stay here until morning, and then pretend I dropped in early to talk to your father about estate matters."

Stay here. With Mary. In her bedroom. All night.

The thought was terrifyingly thrilling.

Of course, he didn't expect anything to happen, certainly not to the extent of his fantasies, but he wouldn't be opposed to something transpassing. He would certainly never force her, but perhaps she could be encouraged, he thought, as they continued their playful banter.

When he began stripping away his stifling suit jacket and undoing the buttons of his shirt, he glimpsed, out of the corner of his eye, her eyes wandering admiringly over his frame.

Perhaps she was very interested.