1930
"Dear me. It seems your desk has exploded." Lucy Smith said as she entered the study, stacks of papers everywhere, even littering the floor. She was engaged to Tom and in a few short weeks they were due to be married; they had been going together for two years now. She also saw that a path had been made, just wide enough so that Matthew could easily access his wheelchair through.
"My predecessor didn't believe in filling his personal papers. He had no secretary. He tossed them into the nearby receptacle. Haphazardly into drawers or nearby boxes. I relentlessly tried to break him of the habit."
"Poor Worsely." Worsley was Mr. Matthews paralegal. The young lad was baby faced and didn't appear to be old enough to shave.
"I do my share when I have the time."
"Why bother? I mean, I can help you file. It's really no trouble. Did I mention I worked as a secretary before I was Lady Bagshaw's maid?" She asked cheekily.
They got more done in a day's work than he and Worsley could split between them. He was starting to see the top of his desk again.
"You are a heaven sent, Miss Smith! I might just hire you for the job." It was a tempting offer.
"It is a tempting offer."
"Consider yourself hired."
"But what will Worsley do?"
"Same as he always does. I don't see why not."
No, she did not. But would Tom.
"NOI?" She read one of the scraps of paper.
"Not of importance. Just stick it into that box there with the others."
Mary walked into the room. "What is all this now?" Her Aunt Rosamund was behind her.
"Good heavens." Rosamund exclaimed.
"We've come to collect Lucy. We've wedding plans to go over."
"By we, I assume to believe Aunt Rosamund." He looked back at Lucy. "I believe she's tied up at the moment. As you can see, we're rather busy."
"I really don't mind helping a bit. I'll come and join you when we're done." She looked far too happy sorting through papers.
Maybe she thinks us far too intimidating. Mary thought. Good
"Miss Smith has just become my new secretary." Matthew beamed proudly. "That will save me and Worsley from going completely mad, we need all the help we can get."
"She's getting married in a month." Mary said, disapprovingly.
"In a month." Matthew reminded her.
"Oh, I really don't mind." Replied Lucy. Matthew gave an, I told you so, nod.
"I've had a letter from Murray. He's coming here on Tuesday."
"What does he want? I didn't make any appointments with him. Lucy, can you check my calendar on my desk. It's in the notebook on the right..." He turned to his wife. "Unless you do..."
"No dates, sir. Would you like me to write it down?"
"No. That's all right."
"It wasn't for me. It was Granny who summoned him. He'd like us there."
"Would you like me to leave?" Lucy noticed the conversation was leading toward sensitive territory.
"No, you can stay for this. We are going to be family. None of that sir business."
"Until you stop calling me Miss Smith."
"If your grandmother wants us there, then we should be there."
"Oh dear. I figured as such."
"Why do you say that?"
"There's only one reason old ladies summon their lawyers." Rosamund implied.
Tuesday
"Do sit down. I feel like Andromeda chained to a rock with you hovering over me." Her granddaughter Mary and daughter finally took a seat. At least her grandson-in-law had the decency, of course, he was already seated on the sofa across from her. He had no choice but to, as standing for long periods were taxing on him. Due to his old war injury. It was thought he would not walk at all. Some saw it as inconvenience.
Years ago, when the children were younger, one of their young guests had asked Matthew, quite rudely, if he was going to stand, when the ladies had entered for dinner. She had noticed he had not stood up with the rest of the men. He politely implored her that he would like to, but he was paralyzed. Which was partially true and easier to explain rather than trying to explain partially paralyzed.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." She had put a hand to her face as if she were a dramatic actress and moved slightly over in her chair. Turning away from him to engage in conversation with the person to her left.
It didn't faze him anymore and Violet admired that. She could tell that her granddaughter did too. They had laughed over the woman's reaction, huddled together like that night, Sir Anthony had taken a mouth full of salt instead of sugar. She had been determined not to like him, Matthew, but couldn't help but to take a liking to him immediately. Especially after trying to find a way around the entail. In a way he reminded her of her Patrick. Her late husband. He was a Crawley, through and through. But above all he made her granddaughter happy.
"I don't know why Murray summoned you here without asking me first." Rosamund retorted.
The door to the library opened and Violet's maid announced Murray had arrived. He looked fretfully nervous.
"Ah, good. You're all here. Have you already told them Lady Grantham? Good." Murray set down his briefcase down on the coffee table. Opening it, he let out a sigh.
"Told us what?" Mary asked.
"Please." Murray gestured her and Rosamund to have a seat.
"She's told us nothing." Rosamund stated, as she sat down next to Matthew, Mary on his other side.
"Well, that can easily be done."
"I've come into the possession of a Villa in the South of France. I've decided it is to be given to my great-granddaughter Sibbie."
"I don't..." Mary started but before she could finish,
"What bit don't you understand?"
"I don't understand any of it. What Villa?"
"It's called La Villa de Colombe and..."
"But why was it yours?" Rosamond asked. "You've never said anything about it."
"Because I thought it was a joke." Violet had prepared to be bombarded with questions and mixed feelings, but she wasn't quite prepared for their reactions. She'd expected Matthew's to be calm. He was the levelheaded of the bunch.
Matthew leaned forward a bit. "Start at the beginning."
"Years ago, before Robert was born, I was in France, and I met a man. The Marquis de Montmirail. And he invited me to spend some time at his Villa. A year or so later, her wrote to me and said he'd transferred the Villa into my name. I never thought it to be serious, so I didn't pay any attention."
"But it wasn't a joke."
"It seems not." Murray said. He appeared more nervous than the rest of them. "He died recently. And to his Widow, the Villa they'd been using every winter for years was registered to Lady Grantham. He never changed it."
"Why have you given it to Sibbie?" Mary wondered.
"Your children are all well set up here. And Edith's will be more than taken care of. And if Tom and Lucy are to have children, they would inherit Lady Bagshaw's estate. Darling Sybil's only daughter will inherit little, and I wanted to correct that."
"Does this Montmirail have any family?" Matthew asked. Part of the lawyer in him was asking. If he had heirs, they would no doubt be displaced, leading to disputes between the two families and would want to contest.
"A widow and a son, the present Marquis. He is married but no children. The mother is still keen to take the matter to court."
"You can't blame her."
"Why? If her husband wanted me to have it, who are we to argue?"
"It's within her right." Matthew finished.
"You never thought to turn it down?" Mary asked.
"Does it look like I would turn down a Villa in the South of France?"
Matthew caught up with Murray before he left. Just as the footman, Andrew, Daisy's husband, opened the car door for him.
"Mr. Murray, may I ask you a favor. I have a task for you." He handed Murray a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "It'll all be explained in here. I'll telephone in a few days if there's any questions."
"Of course, Lord Grantham. Now I hear the train calling my name. Don't want to be late for my next appointment."
"Goodbye Mr. Murray. And thank you."
That evening the rest of the family was called to the drawing room, this time including Rachel, (Atticus's mother had married the previous Lord Grantham in 1924, nearly six years after Cora had died of the Spanish flu) Edith, and Isobel.
"You want me to tell you why he did it. The truth is I do not know." Violet explained truthfully. "With that I will say goodnight. And leave you to discuss my mysterious past." As she struggled to stand up, her lady's maid, Danker moved in to help her. "Now Danker, don't steer me. I'm not a racing car."
"It does seem odd. They spend a few days together in the same resort, more than sixty years ago and he gives her a house." Rosamund said, disbelieving.
"I suppose he just wasn't a lunatic." Edith said. "He'd have to have a reason."
"If he wasn't, that's what they'll try to prove." Matthew still couldn't help looking through his lawyer lenses. "That he was of sound mind."
Mary had learned to just ignore his 'lawyer speak' over the years, though at times she did find it an attractive attribute to him "Well, I think it marvelous of Granny, to take care of Sibbie."
"Even if he was as mad as a hatter." Rachel said.
"But why hadn't Mama never say a word?" Could it be that she was hiding something? Rosamund thought to herself.
"As far as she's concerned, she'd received a letter over half a century ago. She didn't take it seriously as she stated and never gave it a second thought." Matthew reasoned.
The next afternoon, Matthew, along with Bertie, Edith, Rosamund and Rachel went for a walk around the grounds. The children were playing cricket in the garden. Barrow approached them.
"A telegram for you Lord Grantham. It's from a Mr. Barber, says he's from the British Lion film company."
"It's better to find out what he wants." Film people could be rather pushy.
When he came back outside, Rachel, Edith, Mary and Rosamund were sitting on a blanket on the grass with the girls, Josephine, Katie and Caroline. George was practicing hitting the cricket ball with Sibbie.
Bertie was sitting on the bench. Matthew sat down next to him.
"Turns out, Mr. Barber is a producer and director."
"He wants to make a film, here at Downton?" Edith sounded amused and not against the idea.
"What did you say?" Mary asked.
"I turned him down gently."
"Then I'll call him back and make him an offer."
"What's the point? I supposed there'd be a fee."
"I don't see why not." Rachel was surprisingly into the idea as well. "You can manage it." She offered to Mary.
"I see. So, it's down to me, is it?" There was also some tension on Mary's playful banter with her stepmother.
"You can't expect us to deal with cinema people." Matthew looked over his newspaper.
"First, let's hear his proposal." Edith said to her sister. "Come along, Mary, I'll keep you company."
"Isn't it a bad sign when our wives get along?" Bertie asked Matthew.
"Not necessarily. When they use it to gang up on us."
"The money would be useful, surely."
Mary and Edith toured Mr. Barber around the big house. First starting with the library. One look at the marvelous room lined with books he said,
"It's perfect."
"But you haven't seen the rest of the house."
"I'm sure it's just as perfect. There's a lot of stories to be told in here. Until recently filming was largely confined to the studios but now, the process has opened up. Abel Gonz played in Napoleon last year. Showed what a camera can do on location. Filming in real houses, real landscapes."
"Interesting you mention Napoleon." Mary, who was standing by the writing desk, reached out to touch it but stopped, (the very desk her father had died at just seven months ago,) "this desk, were my father and many Earls before him did their work, is said to have belonged to Napoleon himself. Of course, it would be off limits."
"Of course."
"What sort of film is The Gambler?"
"It's about an Earl's daughter Lady Anne Erksine falls in love with a man who turns out to be a gambler to her family's horror. They're at a house party and soon things spin out of control..." At this point Mary and entirely had lost the plot. "and there are visits to smart gambling club, which we'll do here."
"A gambling club at Downton. That would finish Granny." Edith was first to speak.
"And for part two..."
"We must have time to think."
"Here's my card. Ring me, if you have any questions at all."
"I'll ring Barrow to see you out."
"I supposed there will be two questions we'll need the answers to before we can really have a discussion." Edith wanted to be thorough as possible.
"We'd be here about a month and if you'd turn the car over, you'll see what we'll pay."
Mary's eyes widened as she saw the numbers, only just managing to keep her jaw from falling to the floor. She looked up and gave him a smile. "Goodbye, Mr. Barber."
Edith also bid him a goodbye. Mary slipped her the card.
Matthew was on board with Granny that it would be turning their private lives into a circus, Mary thought it would bring some publicity for the estate. If in the future the movie became popular it would bring in money for the estate in the form of tours. Similar to the one they did for charity, to bring in money for the village hospital. This time it would bring in the money for the hospital Matthew wanted built in honor of her father.
"And with what Mr. Barber is offering...surely you can set aside your pride..."
"I don't want strangers in our home, gawking at our lives and touching everything."
"You're starting to sound just like her." Except her words including grubby little fingers.
"She was the first one to accept me when I first came here. I'm like a grandson to her."
"You ARE her grandson. You're her favorite person."
"We're both her favorite person."
Mary thought about it, "You're absolutely right. But before all that happens, we'll most likely all be dead by then."
"Thanks for that lovely picture. I can just imagine myself rolling over in the grave at the thought of strangers in our home."
"You and Granny both. We did it before to raise money for the village hospital."
"That was different. You'd have all sorts coming in. What's to stop these film people going around snooping and touching things as well?"
"They'll be using props." She didn't have to look at him to know he still wore a disappointed expression and was un-impressed as well. "Your mother's all for it. Having a film shot here."
"Of course, she is. She's a progressive, modern woman. Dangle something shiny in front of her, she'll go for it. All for the sake of progress."
"You say that as if it is a bad thing."
"Sometimes it is. When mother's way in over her head."
"She can handle herself. Especially when it comes to Granny."
"That's what I'm afraid of." When they actually agreed they were a force to be reckoned with.
It was raining that evening. Matthew's back would be bothering him, but he managed to make it down for dinner. They seemed to talk about nothing but the film and the pros, excluding the cons. Well, it took a lot of meandering around them.
"There would be a fee I'm not interested in paying."
"Imagine how much money we'd bring in. It could go towards the roof for a start." Edith said. He really did sound like papa at times. He would've disagreed as well.
"We could soon be looking at real flooding if this doesn't let up." Responded Clarkson.
"Maybe with a little convincing, we can send them up the way towards Brancaster." Bertie's quip received a bout of laughter.
After dinner, Mary took Matthew up the attics, to show him.
"I haven't been up here because it's hard for me. I shouldn't be using that as an excuse."
She gave a faint nod in agreement. "This is the situation we're in. With the money we can bring the place up to snuff and into the rest of the 1930's with our heads held high. If you don't want to..."
"No. You steer the show. You're the captain now. You know I've never really wanted this. But...I was thinking what he would want."
She knew what he meant. He was thinking about her father. It suddenly made sense. She pulled him into a hug.
"You're not him." She whispered in his ear.
"Thanks, dear."
"No. I mean, you don't have to fill in his shoes. It doesn't have to rest all on your shoulders. We're in this together."
"Together."
"Murray will have the will translated." Matthew had joined his wife in their bedroom.
"Aren't you good at that?"
"I'm a bit rusty, I'm afraid. Your French is better. You learned from the best, while I barley paid attention and gave all the mademoiselles hell." He gave her a light kiss on her ear, which tickled. She smiled and brushed him off.
"Apparently, Montmirail, transcribed an idyllic interlude he spent with Granny when they were young and before he was married."
"Best you didn't then." Mary hardly wanted to picture it. "What else did Murray say?"
"His family wants to contest the will but, I spoke with the son, he thinks it can be settled in a civilized manner."
"I already like him!"
"Yeah, I thought you would. He would like us to visit and meet his family there. And he wants to meet Tom and Lucy, as Sibbie is the beneficiary."
"What do you think?"
"That way, we can get to know Lucy better."
Mary paid a visit to the Dower house and saw the light was still on in her grandmother's bedroom. She asked if she was still certain she was against the idea.
"Will you be able to handle them while we're away?"
"If it gets the roof fixed it's worth the cost of one dreadful month."
"Seeing the way things are going with the crash in America has effected almost all of Europe...I hope it will cover other expenses."
"We got through a war. We can get through this." Although Mary wasn't sure she was
Matthew found the family all 'hiding' in the library while the film crew was being set up in the Great Hall.
"What are you all doing in here? Hiding, I see!"
"Uncle Matthew!" Sibbie jumped up from the floor, distracted from the board game she was playing with George. She ran up to give him a hug. "We weren't hiding."
"We've been talking a bit about you." Matthew said.
"About me? Why?"
"For a number for reasons." Rachel said. It was far too soon for her to understand about inheritance yet Once they settled out all the details, it would be better to tell her then. Mary entered the room with Miss Myra Dawlish in toe, introducing her. She only produced a giggle. Matthew didn't know if she was nervous or just rude.
"You sure we wouldn't be getting in the hosts way?" Bertie asked, referring to his and Edith joining them on the trip to France.
"He wouldn't hear of it. We'll be staying at the Villa. He seems like a nice chap; I'll need to brush up on my French."
Guy Dexter was also introduced. One of the most 'handsome' actors in film. Matthew did not see the appeal. One Thomas Barrow did.
They were to leave the day after tomorrow for Dover, one more stop in-between, then on to Nice.
The glamour and 'shiny' feeling of having film stars come to Downton, not as glamourous as the Queen and King having come to stay, (who in Matthew's honor and blessing started a charity to help veterans who were still suffering ten years after the war) had started to fade, with the director and script writer arguing. It was time to take a break.
Matthew and Adeline, Evelyn Napier's wife, had started a program to help veterans to bond with horses who had also been traumatized by war. The King and Queen gracefully still donated to the program, even after there were no more veterans to help. Adeline and Matthew changed its purpose, to help disabled and underprivileged children in the village, so they would become more accepting of their differences in their childhood peers. Timmy, one of the boys who had been suffering from rickets had come a long way.
They discussed just that after one of the lessons on one of their walks. "Timmy's come a long way, hasn't he?"
"I don't know how I got him to listen to me."
"You're very good with children."
"The question is, am I good with my own children. I may be a bit too hard on them."
"Nonsense. Of course, you are! I think they understand on some level of the suffering you endured."
Adeline noticed he was starting to lag behind. He was leaning up against a tree, slightly out of breath.
"I just need to rest for a moment."
She was concerned about his legs. She knew what he had to do every day to get where he was and had to continue doing every day. She also knew it wasn't just his legs. Her first husband, before he had died of the mustard gas that had scarred his lungs, he'd have these 'attacks"
"It'll pass." She waited till his breath became even.
"You've become very good at hiding your discomfort. You have been doing them, your exercises?"
"Not lately." It wasn't what she thought it was, but he chose not to argue. This wasn't one of his usual attacks. He felt overcrowded, overwhelmed with everything, trying to fill in his fathers-in-laws shoes, then there was the roof, and on top of it all strangers were now intruding in on their lives. And this business with Violet and this mysterious Montmirail and the inherited Villa. But France would be a welcoming holiday, a good clean break from it all. He could enjoy the fresh air. Usually, he didn't believe that running away solved any problems. They end up finding you right back where you left them.
"Then as a former nurse, and as your friend, I demand you to do them at once when we get back to the house. We must be heading back anyway. They're bound to be waiting for us. As the crow flies as they say."
Mary over saw the first day of filming. "You're a lot like my husband. Most men our age are pragmatic and practical." Mary complimented Jack. After an afternoon of watching him, she had him pretty much pegged.
He had apparently gotten the wrong idea, asking if she'd like to go see a movie with him in Thirsk.
"It wouldn't be appropriate. I am faithful to my husband." She said without looking at Barber though she knew his eyes were on her. "You're not the first. I have chosen to honor my vows."
"Out of obligation?"
"I love my husband." She shuttered to think of her encounter she had had with Tony.
Two small boys, Lucy assumed, as she walked across the garden, had to be Lord Grantham's heirs were chasing each other around a blue sports car. It had an open cockpit and two seats.
"Are you going to drive that in your tails?" Matthew asked Henry.
"Oh, must certainly. But I am well prepared." He tipped one of the bucket seats forward and withdrew a case and produced a long white overcoat. He put it on, along with a hat to match. "It may look odd, but it's very practical. I assure you." He then took off the coat and hat and tossed them in the back. "How about taking her for a spin?"
"You're not joking. Sure, alright."
Mary, walking by overheard them. "Take good care of him." They then sped off. Tomorrow would be a busy day. They would depart for France. When it was time to leave for the Villa in France, where the family would later come to stay each summer, Mary requested her beloved Carson's help, per Mrs. Hughes request.
"Mrs Hughes, did you need to ever ask for my permission?" Had been Mary's response.
Meanwhile downstairs was talk about Branson and his upcoming wedding to Miss Lucy. Mrs. Baxter was worried that if Molesley didn't ask her to marry her, (which she suspect he was planning to, and hoped that he wouldn't chicken out) that she would die a spinster.
On their boat ride over to the island, Mary couldn't help but wonder, is this was why she had fled for several weeks in 1927 to the Mediterranean with Isobel? Because of a secret love affair?
They were led to a courtyard through an archway and past the tennis courts and climbed their way through the vineyard, until Matthew was sure they reached the highest point of the island.
Mary asked him if he needed to rest. He simply waved his hand. The ride in Henry's car still had his adrenaline pumping so, that he didn't feel tired. They all stopped anyway to take in the breath-taking view of the water below, sailors with their sails at full mast and beyond that the village dotted the other side of the coastline and high up in the mountains.
"You don't get this view in Yorkshire."
They were led further up the garden to sit at a table for lunch.
"This is a lovely house." Matthew said to Eduard. "Is it very old?"
"I think it was built in the 1820's. Back then this was the only house on the island. Till the owners, that is my grandfather was nearly out of money. Believing in the American dream, he invested all his money in a railway far away instead of close by."
"Many people drew the same conclusion and made a gamble, that they ended up losing."
Mary knew it wasn't a jab at her deceased father, as their conversation in the attic had proved. Matthew was still under a lot of pressure; it was taking longer than he thought it would be sorting out her father's affairs, which her father should have done himself, but he had thought he'd be around for some time.
"It was then bought be his brother, and he turned the Island into a holiday spot. It kept the Villa in the family and my grandfather bought it back with the money he'd earned in the end."
"You really like the place? Eyeing up the furniture, taking measurements of the curtains."
"Maman, we can always buy another Villa." Eduard interrupted.
"If you mean how we've observed how marvelous this place is, then yes. But I can see where it could be upsetting for you. Your son invited us here." Matthew said. "What we just want to know is why he did what he did."
"I contacted our lawyer. We will know in a few days." said Eduard. "Until then, I hope you enjoy your stay."
The conversation then turned to Edith's newspaper, how she's writing for it again, asking if she could take pictures.
"Of course."
"Obviously you're not the first journalist he's encountered." Matthew joked.
"It is lovely weather. Perfect for a party or weddings, no?" Edouard's wife commented.
"Speaking of weddings, Tom and I are getting married." Lucy announced, though she had no idea why.
"You are getting married? We didn't you say? You must have the wedding here!" Eduard's wife exclaimed!
"Oh, no we couldn't. You barely know us."
"Why wait to get back to England?"
Matthew came back to their suite after checking out the bathroom, not a moment later.
"The bath is built into the floor like a Roman bath house."
Mary looked up from whatever she was doing at the vanity.
"Do you think you'll be able to get into it? We could always acquire Bate's help."
"I don't want to take time away from Bates when he should be spending it with Anna. This is their family affair. They'd want all that time to themselves before the festivities start."
"It's just as much our family affair as it is theirs." Not only was Anna their family, but a distant cousin also, in extensions Lucy being her younger sister, as it turned out, lady Bagshaw being her father's uncle's daughter and Anna and Lucy's Aunt. Lucy was raised by their Aunt to keep her away from their abusive stepfather while Anna had come to work for the big house, when she had just been sixteen, Lucy had been six. "Considering Granny's secret one time lover and my father being their possible love child."
"I don't think it is anything like that. It could all be something rather simple." A lonely old man thinking back to the time he spent a few days with, what happened during those two days, was still up for debate, not everything was about the alure of the opposite sex of the bedroom nature but rather he had enjoyed her company and had been one of his happiest memories.
Is anything ever simple. Her expression read. "True. We wouldn't be able to enjoy the bath together if we insisted on Bates help. If you want to try that is..."
"I'll think I'll have to settle for a sponge bath for tonight."
"Very tempting." She kissed her husband as he got into bed. She left to go get the supplies.
The next morning Mary and Matthew went with Eduard to tour the sea-side village. The town lay in a valley, bounded by sea cliffs, white cliff faces not quite like the cliffs of Dover. F Scott Fitzgerald and his wife had once holidayed here. The streets were lined with business, leading down to the beach. Edouard named them off, several restaurants, lodging houses, medical baths, whatever those were, Mary's mind wandered.
"Our rooms also have view of the sea. You may open the windows for our healthy sea air."
Matthew stated that found the sea air easier on his lungs.
Eduard also stated that there was a bookstore, patrons could also check them out to take down to the beach. It was his favorite place.
"You would also find it."
"I don't see why you hadn't just traveled to England to see Granny. It would have been much easier." Mary wanted to know.
"I wanted to meet you both. This situation is more difficult, but I will make it easier for her, I'll make sure of that."
Back at the villa Edith and Bertie joined Tom and Lucy in a game of tennis.
"What do you think their game is?" Tom wondered. "Lead us into a false sense of security?
"Or make us feel guilty." Offered Lucy. Why would they want us to have our wedding here when they barley know us.
Meanwhile there was some trouble with the film. Mr. Barber called Mary from the estate. Production had halted because the talking films were making more money. But all was resolved in a matter of seconds. Mary had come up with the idea that it could be turned into a talking picture, asking what steps that would take.
"We'd need a sound technician from London."
"And you can add the talking bits over the films you already shot?"
"Lady Mary, you are a genius." Before she could say anything else, he had gone away from the phone. The receiver must not have been hung up for she heard him shouting for joy on the other end.
The family were called to the sitting room upon the lawyer's arrival.
"She blackmailed him somehow." Eduard's mother bolted up-right. "I will challenge this in court!"
"On what grounds madame? Your husband purchased this property before he married you. I advise you to forfeit the property without further delay." The lawyer advised. She walked away in defeat.
"Are you sure you're alright with this?" Mary asked Eduard.
"Of course. He made me executor of his will. I guess he trusted me enough to carry out his wishes."
"Though why invite us here?"
"Your grandmother and my father spent a week together in 1865."
"My father was born in March of 1866."
"It concerns you and your family. We have a great deal in common."
"My father was born the next year, nine months later after their 'idyllic interlude' and after his birth he gives her a Villa." She flung herself onto the bed.
"It could just all be one big coincidence." Matthew said.
She pulled herself onto her elbows. "Think of what will happen if this gets out. Carson would hand in his notice."
"Banish the thought."
There was a knock and Molseley entered. "Here you are, my lord. I hope this helps." He delivers a tray of tea to him.
"Thank you, Molesley."
"Is everything alright?" Mary asked as the Valet retreated.
"Yes. Quite." He took a sip and set the cup aside.
Mary had found him gone from their bed in the early hours of the morning. He had gone to the Village with Molesley at first sun rise. He'd gone to the little bookstore and down to the beach.
"Without me?" She asked.
"I found it quite peaceful before the other villagers started milling about. Besides, I wasn't the only one. Tom and Lucy were there."
"Next time have me join you, will you?" She hoped he wasn't distancing himself from her again, like he had for months after George's birth.
Edith was in the villa's study with Tom, Lucy and Mary, and Bertie. She was busy at work with her next column.
"It feels great to." She was speaking to her Bertie.
"Foothold in the real world again?" He asked. She'd been referring to her father's untimely passing. For a while the creative well had dried up, her heart had just not been in it.
"Oh, my goodness!" They heard the Butler gasp. Carson had found an old painting of the Dowager Countess in one of the cases of silver whilst cleaning it.
"What is it?" Edith came over. "It's Granny!" She exclaimed. It prompted a stifled laugh from Bertie, one of amusement. While it prompted Mary to have more questions. Violet de adorre. Was written on the painting.
They went down to the pool after a round of tennis. They all needed a break after all that.
"When was it painted? And why was she his adored one? Did she grant him the ultimate favor?" Edith pondered from her lounge chair.
"They only spent a few days together. It's most unlikely." Bertie tossed her a bottle of champaign.
"And it's just a coincidence that papa was born nine months later?"
"I suspect when she got home, your grandfather was jolly happy to see her."
"How much do we know about the previous marquis?" Tom asked.
"I did some research." Matthew answered. "He married in 1870. They didn't purchase the Villa till five years after Robert was born. And the present Marquis arrived in 1873." If he found that in one little bookstore about the family what else was there to find?
"So, it was a going away sort of gift before he looked for a wife." Lucy suggested, finding it romantic.
"It would appear so."
It was approaching the weekend of Tom and Lucy's wedding. Lady Bagshaw of course attended; she was sent for with young Sibbie. It didn't take much convincing as it wouldn't be right for her not to be there. She, after all was gaining a new mother.
"I never thought it possible to love someone again." Tom said his vows.
"And I love you!" They both kissed before the officiate announced to kiss the bride.
The children, bored throughout the ceremony were anxious to get up and run again. They always wanted to run. As to where to, God only knew.
As Isobel said to Lady Bagshaw it was the start of something new.
Montmirail made a toast. Raising his glass to his new... he paused glancing at Mary, before he said, 'friends' Mary felt about to faint. If he outed them as his 'secret' family though they were not. There definitely was no proof.
Upon the return trip home, later that evening, Violet wanted to speak with her granddaughter. To Mary's relief Granny revealed that her father was her and her grandfather's child. "Though our marriage was not a passionate one, it was fruitful. I chose your grandfather and to honor my vows."
Much like me, Mary thought. She was like her grandmother, and Matthew though he would not admit it was just like her father, in some ways. But the difference being that she loved Matthew with all her heart and he the same.
"As with Kuragin. I don't know how much time I will have left..."
"Granny, not all this again. We've been over it all before."
"I know. I know. Just hear me out. You're the Captain of the ship now. You've been for a while now." Not of Downton but to take over her own role. She had settled in as Countess just fine. She was ready to take the reins of the family, when the time came.
"Have you been speaking to Matthew?"
Granny just smiled. Great minds do think alike.
"There are two types of women. Dragons and fools. Make sure you show them that you're a dragon."
The film had hit a little snag and was lagging behind schedule. Myra was having trouble recording her lines. They, meaning, Jack Barber, wanted Mary to read Myra's lines to dub over.
"See if you can try it. If you can't, that's alright."
"I don't know how I get myself into these things." She read the lines successfully and flawlessly syncing to Myra's lip movements. Myra, coming back from probably powdering her noise saw it, them all clapping and cheering. Myra grabbed a nearby vase throwing it to the floor.
"I hope that was a prop." At the moment she couldn't care less. It was as if she was on cloud nine. Her husband cheering the loudest of all. At least to her anyway, they were the only two in the room. There was no doubt indeed. She was the dragon.