"Pregnant?"

"You needn't be quite so shocked."

"If you take Matthew now when his whole future is at risk, he will love you till the end of his days."

"Well, you're going any minute. She's advertised for your replacement."

"Ten years of my life, that's what I've given her."

"I'll just go sort out your clothes, my lady."

—-

O'Brien caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. She was suddenly reminded that she had her mother's eyes. It was her mother who had taught her right from wrong. It was her mother who had born eight healthy children. And it was her mother who had had four stillbirths.

There was no time for words. No matter how she thought the Countess of Grantham had wronged her, Sarah O'Brien knew that she couldn't be the cause of the kind of pain she had seen in her own mother's eyes four times over.

"Your ladyship!"

Cora Grantham stood knee deep in the water of the tub, one hand on the edge of the tub. She stared up at her Lady's Maid who stood with her hand gripping the doorknob. O'Brien appeared flush and breathless from the few steps she had taken to get to the washroom door.

"Yes, O'Brien?" Her ladyship's eyebrows had climbed towards the ceiling at her maid bursting in so urgently.

"I just…" O'Brien's eyes darted around the room searching for some excuse. "I just wanted to make certain that you had a towel."

The Lady's Maid grabbed a towel from its shelf and unfurled it to wrap her ladyship in it. She was irritated with herself for caring about this old cow who was about to replace her so carelessly, but she was glad that she hadn't wronged her innocent babe.

"And I wanted to make sure that you got out of the tub safely," O'Brien deftly nudged the broken bar of soap back beneath the tub as she approached. "Especially in your condition."

The Countess gave her lady's maid a warm smile as she wrapped herself in the offered towel. "Dear O'Brien, you do take such good care of me."

Fat lot of good it does me, O'Brien thought to herself, when you're about to toss me out on me ear.

The pair moved to the bedroom and began the process of dressing her ladyship, who was not fully aware of the tragedy that had just been averted.

"O'Brien, I wonder if you'd be able to take some time to look at the responses to the advertisement for a Lady's Maid," Cora asked innocently, holding onto one of the posts of the bed as her maid adjusted the lacing on her corset to accommodate her changing body.

"You want me to review applicants for the position?" O'Brien had difficulty keeping the anger out of her tone. She hoped she hadn't just talked herself out of a reference.

Her ladyship was confused and disgruntled by her maid's response. "Yes, I think the Dowager would appreciate your professional opinion on the matter," Cora volleyed back, matching O'Brien's forceful tone.

All of the blood drained from O'Brien's face. "You're helping the Dowager find a new Lady's Maid."

Cora looked over her shoulder and saw her maid's reflection in the full length mirror. "Yes. What did you think was going on?"

Sarah O'Brien shook away her confusion and hoped some of the color would return to her face. "Please forgive me, my lady. I don't know what I was thinking," she appealed to her employer.

Cora turned to face her maid straight on, her lips curled in a bemused grin. "O'Brien, you didn't seriously think that I would consider replacing you, did you? You've been with me for 10 years. What would I do without you?"

O'Brien couldn't quite meet her ladyship's eyes as she made her reply, "I don't know what I thought, m'lady." She chanced a look up at Lady Grantham's face. "But of course I'll take a look at the applicants," she replied, returning her attention to the corset laces.

"Good," Cora's face broke out into a wide smile that made O'Brien feel all the guiltier about what she had almost done. "Now let's get me dressed. I want to visit with the girls before we go down to dinner."

"Yes, m'lady."

Cora hummed to herself as she made her way down the corridor towards Mary's room. She was still confused by O'Brien's behavior this afternoon, but she was glad they had ironed out whatever had been wrong. She was going to need her maid by her side in the coming months.

"Have you decided what you'll say to Matthew?"

Cora stopped outside of the door to Mary's room at the sound of her middle daughter's question. Edith's voice was a goad, designed to nettle Mary at every opportunity. She heard Mary sigh in annoyance.

"I'm not even sure what I would have told him, had Mama not ruined everything."

Her eldest daughter's voice was now a dagger in her heart and Cora closed her eyes tightly to squash down the hurt that was bubbling up.

"You mustn't talk like that, Mary."

If her older daughters' natures were to get under each other's skins, it was her youngest whose sweet nature made her the peacekeeper.

"I think it's sweet," Sybil continued. "We've always known that Mama and Papa love each other, and now we have proof."

Cora could almost hear Sybil smile as she spoke.

"Of course you would think that." Mary's aloofness was on full display this evening.

"And I, for one, look forward to not being the baby of the family any more."

Edith and Sybil laughed at that, but Mary's voice was notably missing.

"Can I be in on the joke?" Cora chose this moment to make her appearance.

Mary caught her mother's eye in the mirror as Anna put the finishing touches on her hair. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly as she arched her eyebrow. "No, Mama. We sisters must have our secrets."

Cora smiled back at her daughter. "I guess I wouldn't know anything about that," she conceded.

"No," Mary was feeling very high and mighty this evening, "you wouldn't." She turned to her maid, "Thank you, Anna."

As Anna made her way towards the door, Lady Grantham had a thought.

"Why don't you girls go on downstairs," Cora suggested, "while I have a word with your sister."

Edith and Sybil looked at each other, knowing that it was more than just a suggestion. "Of course, Mama," Edith replied with a smug grin hoping that Mary was in some sort of trouble.

"I agree, having a silver thief in the house does seem like a bad idea."

O'Brien sat by the fire in the servants hall, her button box beside her and one of her ladyship's blouses in her hand. How could she have misjudged the situation so completely? How could she have taken things so far out of pure spite? How close had she come to doing real damage?

"You look about a thousand miles away, Miss O'Brien."

"What?" O'Brien had no idea how long she had been staring into the fire when Anna interrupted her brooding.

"You seem distracted is all," Anna replied with a smile that seemed excessive for the topic of conversation.

"Everyone's got their own troubles, haven't they?" O'Brien spat back. Then she took note of Anna's demeanor. "Except you. What have you got to be so cheerful about?"

Anna turned her attention from O'Brien to the man who sat on the other side of the long table in the servant's hall. He too looked as though he intended to do some work; a needle and thread in hand replacing a button on one of his Lordship's tweed jackets. However, Mr. Bates' brows were furrowed and his breathing heavy as he tried to concentrate in spite of his own troubles.

"I've spoken to his Lordship." Bates and O'Brien both focused on Anna as she revealed, "It turns out that our Mr. Bates won't be leaving Downton after all."

The maid left the servant's hall with a bounce in her step, leaving the room's occupants to contemplate each other with mixed emotions.

Once her two sisters had shuffled out of the room in their evening finery, Mary looked over at her mother. "Yes, what is it, Mama?"

Cora knelt down in front of her daughter where she sat with her back turned towards her vanity. Mary preemptively rolled her eyes at her mother's American sentimentality.

"Mary, I know you don't remember when you were little, but it seems as though you have resented Edith since you realized that she existed," her Mama began, looking up into her eyes.

Cora reached out to take Mary's hand. "I realize that the stakes are much higher than they were when you were little, but I don't want you to resent the baby."

Mary pulled her hand back and quickly stood, making her way to her full length mirror, fussing with the feathers in her hair as if nothing was bothering her. "Whatever do you mean, Mama?"

Cora stood, trying to meet Mary's eyes in the mirror. "I mean that I hope that whatever answer you give to Matthew is for your own reasons and not to do with the baby."

"Oh, Mama," Mary turned towards her mother in exasperation, "how can you be so naive? You know very well how things work in our world. You married Papa because he would become an Earl. Why should my reasons be any different?"

Mary wasn't wrong, but Cora knew that there was so much more to it. "Mary, no matter what you decide, I hope that you will be as happy as your Papa and I have been."

Her daughter continued fussing with her gown in the mirror and Cora let out a sigh.

"And I hope you know how happy your father and I were when we knew that you were on your way."

Cora sensed that no matter how old she got, Mary still felt as though her parents' love was divided between their children. But the truth was that their love had always grown with every new addition.

"Of course you were happy," Mary replied without turning around, "you were expecting a boy."

Mary had cut to the core of so many things: Cora's insecurities over not having provided an heir to the estate, Mary's insecurities over not having been born a boy, and the fact that the match that everyone was pushing for between Matthew and Mary was now on shifting sands.

Cora realized that she wasn't getting through to Mary. She stepped towards the door and she couldn't keep the hurt out of her eyes as she afforded Mary one last glance. "I'll see you downstairs then."

Mary had paid her mother no mind as she exited, but once she realized that her mother was gone, she sat heavily on her vanity stool. Closing her eyes tightly and releasing a sigh, she gripped the cushion beneath her. Mary, Mary quite contrary, had a difficult decision to make.

Robert had spent dinner blissfully ignorant of the tension between his wife and eldest daughter. He was still cresting the wave of his joy over his wife's surprise pregnancy, and it took every ounce of his self control to tamp down the thought that it might be a boy. So it had been easy for him to ignore the way the two women had pointedly ignored each other all evening.

Once he and Cora had climbed into bed, they had each read a little before turning off their lamps and kissing each other goodnight. Now, as he groggily came out from under the veil of sleep, he slowly became aware of the fact that his wife was crying. No matter how much she tried to stifle her cries into her pillow, the subtle shaking of the bed as she wept gave her away.

"Cora, what is the matter?" he whispered into the darkness after he had rolled over towards her. He stroked the backs of his knuckles across the skin of her upper arm, left exposed by her diaphanous nightgown. Summer was beginning to fade, but it was still warm enough to dress lightly at night.

She managed to catch her breath and reply, "Please go back to sleep, Robert."

Cora remained with her back towards him as she continued, "You know how I get when I'm pregnant." She tried to dry her eyes with the bed covers. "It's nothing to bother you with."

Robert sighed. Cora spent so much energy putting the comfort of others before her own, Robert knew that he had to put her comfort before his own.

"Someone's said something to upset you," he ventured. The silence that responded only affirmed his suspicion.

"Whatever Mama has said, I'm sure she didn't intend…"

"It wasn't your mother, Robert," Cora interrupted. "She seems almost as happy as you about the baby."

"It was Mary then," Robert surmised. He had been concerned about how the baby might affect Matthew, but he had hoped that Mary would make the right choice regardless.

"I tried talking to her when I realized that she resented me over the baby, but I wasn't sure what to tell her." Cora took a deep breath to keep her tears from falling again. "I told her that I want her to be happy in her marriage, but she reminded me of why we married."

"For money."

"For a title."

"Oh my darling," Robert extolled as he tucked his right arm under his wife's head and wrapped his left arm around her, pulling her towards him. They fit together perfectly and Cora now felt a certain solace at being held in the arms of someone she knew loved her.

"Why does it matter why we married when we have made each other so terribly happy?" Robert enquired, almost wishing they could just go back to sleep.

"It seems to matter to Mary," she replied, nuzzling her head into Robert's bicep. "I just don't know what to say to her. Things are so much more complicated this time."

She continued in a wistful tone, "Remember when I fell pregnant with Mary? Everyone was so happy…"

Robert hugged Cora to him even more closely. "Of course I remember. And I don't think you should let Mary dampen your happiness. She is grown and if she has decided to be unhappy about the baby, then she can lump it."

He was greeted by silence once more, but this time her shallow breathing let him know that she was asleep. Robert's consternation with Mary grew as he imagined the child growing within his wife, just under his palm, and especially when he remembered Cora's joy at telling him. How could his eldest daughter be so selfish as to spoil that joy? He supposed that she had been brought up to expect certain things, and for so many years, one of those things was that she would be Countess of Grantham one day.

Robert sighed, but as quietly as he could manage. He would have to be careful not to move until he fell asleep himself. Cora would need as much rest as possible in the coming months and he didn't want to be the cause of her missing out on any of it. Robert let the smell of his wife's hair soothe him and the vision of her holding a new baby fill his mind as sleep claimed him.

‐-

The yard behind the servant's entrance to the Abbey was enveloped in darkness. The crates and small table that made up its modest furnishings were just outlines in the waning moonlight. A pair of red eyes appeared out of the darkness. One of the eyes blinked as its owner exhaled a thin trail of smoke. Then the end of Sarah O'Brien's cigarette went dull as she too exhaled.

"You were quiet at dinner. Looked as though you'd seen a ghost," Thomas observed to his older companion, taking another drag from his cigarette.

She had been haunted by the knowledge of what she had almost done, but the guilt she felt was simmering into anger.

"Her Ladyship was never planning on replacing me."

"What?" Thomas's voice was full of incredulity. "I heard her tell the Old Lady that she had placed an ad for a Lady's Maid."

O'Brien stomped out her cigarette. "She'd placed the ad for the Old Lady."

"Don't be cross with me. You thought the same thing," Thomas drawled his defense, putting out his own cigarette.

O'Brien scowled, mostly at herself. "I'm not." She afforded Thomas a glance before moving towards the house. "I'm cross with myself."

Thomas watched the dark figure move with determination towards the door.

"You're a queer one, Miss O'Brien," he mumbled to himself. He only hoped that Dr. Clarkson would aid him in his plan for keeping himself safe during the oncoming war.

—-

"Is it true you wrote to the Turkish ambassador about Kemal?"

"He had a right to know how his countryman died: In the arms of a slut!"

The day of the garden party had arrived and Robert was trying to relax over his kedgeree while reading the morning paper before the activities of the day became overwhelming. However, the news itself was foreboding as the Austro-Hungarian Empire had officially declared war on Serbia and the great powers of Europe were taking sides. The peace at his breakfast table was also tenuous. He noticed Mary and Edith exchanging venomous looks as sweet Sybil tried to ignore them and focus on her breakfast.

"I'm going to go and change for the party," Sybil announced, placing her napkin on her chair.

Now that she had been presented at court, Sybil wore her hair up off of her shoulders, as a grown woman should, but her overall demeanor remained much the same as it had before. Robert remembered her success during the London Season and selfishly hoped that she would not be married in the near future. Her dark hair, azure eyes, and dulcet disposition reminded him so much of his wife when they had first met that he wanted desperately to protect her. But, just as Cora had grown into her role as countess, and as Mary had grown dismissive of her parents' advice, Sybil was growing interested in politics and formal education.

"I think I'll go up as well," Edith said as she stood. She blushed as she made eye contact with Sybil across the table and both girls smiled. Clearly Edith had told her sister about Sir Anthony Strallen's intentions and both girls were looking forward to a happy conclusion at the end of the party.

Mary rolled her eyes at her romantically inclined sisters as she finished off her orange juice. Robert was very much hoping to speak to Mary alone. Once the door latched shut behind Sybil and Edith, he addressed the butler. "Carson, would you go ahead and clear the kedgeree?"

"Very good, my lord," was the stalwart butler's simple response. Carson raised an eyebrow at being asked to clear before the family was finished in the dining room, but his was not to reason why.

"I should be going up as well, Papa." Mary pushed her chair back to stand, but Robert placed his hand over hers on the table in an unusual display of affection.

"I'd like to speak to you before you go up."

Mary tensed and pulled her hand away as she sat back down.

"Well, what is it?" She fixed her eyes on her father with a look of mild irritation, her cool gaze growing cooler.

Talking about one's feelings was never something that made Robert Crawley comfortable, but for his Cora he would make an exception.

"Your Mama seems to think that you're not happy about the baby." Robert met his daughter's steely gaze with one of his own.

"Of course I'm happy about the baby," Mary replied through an expression that could barely be called a smile. "Why shouldn't I be?"

Because the baby could take away everything that you thought would be yours. Because the baby could lead you to make a poor decision regarding your own future.

"Mary, your mother and I want for you to be happy." He inhaled deeply, leaning towards her in the event that Carson should return, "but I cannot abide your casting a pall over your mother's happiness."

"Or yours." Mary arched an eyebrow at her Papa.

"Mary!"

"Don't worry, Papa. I know how to behave myself." She shifted her attention to an imagined speck on her skirt in an attempt to appear aloof.

Mary certainly knew how to behave herself… when she wanted to. Robert felt the heat that had risen in his face begin to dissipate as he remembered the difficult decision that his daughter faced.

"Mary, you know that I would be proud to have Matthew as a son-in-law," he offered, feeling deflated that he knew so little of what his own daughter was thinking.

She let out a short laugh, "Of course you would." She remembered her own jealousy towards Matthew when it seemed that he was the son her father had always longed for.

Robert was taken aback at her levity, "Have you decided then?"

"Dear Papa, it may have been decided already." And with that she kissed him on his cheek as she made her way out of the dining room.

Robert sighed and sat back in his chair, not truly knowing how to deal with Mary or how to react to her capricious nature.

—-

"Would you have stayed… if I'd accepted you?"

"Of course."

"So I've ruined everything?"

"He's simply ghastly apparently, but he's promised to propose today."

"I hear congratulations are in order!" Cora turned to the man addressing her. She could barely bring herself back from where her mind had been to try and remember his name. She had watched as Mary and Matthew walked off to speak to each other and had only seen Matthew return, his brow furrowed and his lips pulled taught. Cora felt her own brow furrow as she realized what must have happened.

"Yes, Sir John," she answered with a polite smile, having remembered his name. "We should have a new baby around Christmas."

"What a wonderful gift that will make," Sir John's wife added, her eyes crinkling with a genuine smile.

"Indeed it will," Cora couldn't contain the bashful grin that took over her face at the thought and the color rose in her cheeks. She lowered her eyes for a moment as her hand instinctively moved to her abdomen.

Sir John looked past Cora, "Oh look, there's Porchy! We haven't seen him in ages." With that, he was moving on to the next social interaction.

"Please excuse us."

"Of course, Lady Jane."

"And, Lady Grantham," she placed a hand on Cora's arm and leaned in conspiratorially. "We are very happy for you," she added, imparting that she fully understood not only the kind of joy that a new baby could bring, but also the possibilities of this particular pregnancy.

Cora looked out at the party from under the canopy that was sheltering her. Well-dressed couples sipped champagne and chatted happily under the fading summer sun as the music of the string quartet wafted through the air. The party had been a success even if Mary and Matthew's engagement had not.

Then she saw him walking towards her. Her Robert. He stuck his walking stick firmly into the earth, its silver head glinting in the light. She thought it slightly silly that he used it, but it was the fashion and Lord knew she had done far sillier things in the name of fashion.

As he came out of the sun and under the shade of the canopy, he reached for her hand, stepping close enough to her that their joined hands would be hidden from prying eyes.

"I can't remember a more successful garden party, my dear," Robert complimented, his blue eyes twinkling at her.

Cora lowered her eyes and then met his around the downward swooping brim of her hat. "Not since last year's, I suppose," she grinned at him. She had somehow managed to tease Robert about his memory and downplayed the compliment.

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

A cool breeze whirled through the canopy giving Robert a slight chill through his light linen suit.

"Are you warm enough?" His concern brought a smile to her face.

"I am when you're holding my hand," she answered. It wasn't literally true, but all things were easier to bear when her husband held her hand.

"Your Lordship? This has just arrived for you." Neither of them had noticed their loyal butler approaching with a telegram on a silver salver.

"Thank you," Robert replied, releasing Cora's hand to take up the telegram and the letter opener.

She watched his face as he read. The contented expression of a man enjoying a garden party slipped away and it became apparent that the telegram contained unfortunate news.

Cora could not fathom how bad the news could truly be as Robert jogged out from under the canopy, waving his hat for attention.

"My Lords, Ladies and gentlemen. Can I ask for silence?" The music of the string quartet petered out, but it was the stricken look on Lord Grantham's face that truly gave everyone in attendance pause.

"Because I very much regret to announce… that we are at war with Germany."