I was so chuffed at all the reviews and story alerts I got in such a short time! Thank you all very much Now in this one, Mary is 7 and Matthew is 8. This chapter is a little bit more Mary focused. If you're not British, then rounders will probably be unknown to you; it's basically baseball and is an integral part of any British childhood! Please R&R
An extremely young lady, the Crawley sister's new governess, placed her navy blue hat firmly on her head and shook her shoulders into her light summer coat, squaring them as if to face battle. The old governess had left suddenly after Mary had hidden a frog in her dressing gown pocket; ("the final straw, Lady Grantham! The final straw!") Mary giggled as she remembered the agonised screeches of the hated Miss Thompson when she had put her hand into her pocket to find a moist, slimy and slightly bemused frog in there.
The new governess peered over the balcony, seeing the girls neatly brushed and dressed in summer frocks and coats, polished sandals and pretty straw hats. She smiled; she didn't have to worry at all! What sweet girls they were, so pretty and... Her pleasant thoughts about the girls were quickly shattered as she descended down the stairs into quite a different world.
"Lady Mary! Keep one hand on your sister's pram at all times, please! Lady Edith! Pulling her hair won't make her stop sticking her tongue out at you! Remember that you are ladies. When we go out into the village together, you are representing your family, so please, please behave! Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes, Miss Winters," Mary and Edith chorused together, their faces suspiciously sweet and innocent, looking every inch the well turned out aristocratic girls they were. Miss Winters gave a sigh of relief as calm seemed to descend on the group, punctuated only by the happy gurgles of the baby Sybil. They began their walk up the sweeping drive, three pairs of perfectly polished shoes crunching gravel underfoot, the click of the pram wheels ticking pleasingly along.
"OUCH!"
"Lady Mary, please! It isn't appropriate for a lady to yell in such a way!" Miss Winters admonished.
"But Edith pinched me! Look!"
"I would never do that, Miss Winters. I'm a very good girl," Edith lisped. "Mary pinched herself."
Mary exploded with rage. "Why would I do that, you stupid baby?"
Tears came easily to Edith and she began to blub, raising her brimming eyes innocently to Miss Winters' face.
"Lady Mary, how could you? I am very displeased with your behaviour indeed!"
Miss Winters bent down to give Edith a comforting hug to calm her, Edith's chin resting on her shoulder. Edith looked at Mary and gave an infuriating smirk. Mary clenched her fist and glared at her, hardly daring to say another word in case she was told off again.
They continued their walk, Miss Winters making quite sure that Mary and Edith stayed on separate sides of the pram for the rest of the journey. They stopped outside the village post office.
"Now girls, I will just be a few minutes in here. I have to send a telegram to my sister. I want you to wait out here quietly and be on your best behaviour," she said, trying to look at them as firmly as possible. Miss Winters entered the post office, the shop bell jingling merrily as the door clicked shut. Mary turned her back to Edith, not trusting herself to even look at her. As she turned, she saw a lively group of local boys playing rounders on the village green, cheering each time the wooden bat made contact with the ball, making a satisfying thwack. Matthew was lined up in the batting team, waiting patiently for his turn whilst chatting amiably with one of his school friends. He walked forward to bat and he hit the ball a decent way across the green, rolling and bouncing until it came almost up to Mary. His eyes followed the ball and saw Mary, standing by a pram by the post office, looking irritated. He waved excitedly to her and she made a face at him. The other boys soon noticed them and began to jeer at him.
"Ooooh Matthew, is she your girl?"
"He is a girl!"
"He bats like a girl, anyway!" teased the biggest boy, a solid, dark haired lad of twelve who overtopped all the other boys by a head.
The lads fell about laughing at this good natured, boyish joke, but Matthew's cheeks blushed a deep crimson and he stared down at his shoes. Mary, having heard the unkind remark, left the side of the pram amidst Edith's protests, marching over to the biggest boy and stared up into his face, her dark eyes flashing with anger.
"That's all you know! Besides, girls are great at batting!"
Matthew tried to calm her; "Mary, it's alright..." She cut him off with a blistering glare and snatched the bat from one of the boys. She stood defiantly in the batting square, glaring at the big boy. She had never played in her life, but she supposed it couldn't be too hard. Could it? She hid her nerves as she challenged him. "Go on, unless you're scared to bowl to a girl..."
The boy scoffed at her and beckoned the fielders to come closer. "She won't hit it far, lads; probably catch her out..."
Mary clutched the bat tightly in her hand, her heart pumping hard with excitement and apprehension as he backed away for the run up. He sped towards her, bowling a fiercely fast ball. She swung the bat back and THWACK! The boys gasped as it flew high over the heads of the fielders, twenty hands shielding twenty pairs of eyes from the blazing sun as they followed the balls trajectory in utter amazement. The fielders came to first, pelting after the ball at top speed. Mary stood stock still in the square, not quite believing she'd done it.
"RUN, MARY!" Matthew shouted from behind her. She dropped the bat and ran as fast as she could, tapping first, second... The bowler was jumping up and down on the spot, screaming at his fielders, "get back! Come on!" Mary was running so fast, she felt as if she was going to fall over her own legs, but spurred on by the cheers of the batting team, she tapped third... The ball was coming in, fourth base fumbled the catch and she crossed fourth, straight into a crowd of cheering lads and Matthew, all patting her on the back and grinning.
"Not bad for a girl!"
"Wizard!"
"Absolute champion!"
All the boys' faces were shining with glee, beaming at Mary as schoolboy praises fell from their lips. Mary was elated; she loved the boy's games and manners, so straightforward and honest, in stark contrast to the prim company and games she was subjected to at home.
"Mary, that was the best bat of the whole game, really it was!" gushed Matthew, overjoyed that his friend had shown up the bullying older boy. "Can you play with us? For the rest of the game?"
Mary opened her mouth to say yes, of course she could, she would love to, but the bell of the post office jangled loudly and, looking over in trepidation, she saw the accusing finger of her sister pointing her out to the worried young governess.
"No. I have to be a lady," she sighed, rolling her eyes and smoothing down her crumpled dress. Matthew and the other boys groaned in disappointment as she walked away from the happy, boisterous game towards her sisters and Miss Winters.
"Lady Mary! What on earth were you doing, playing with...with...with boys!" Miss Winters cried faintly, almost whispering the last word. "When we get home, you are to go straight to the nursery and write one whole page on suitable activities for young ladies."
This governess was going to have to go as well, Mary thought.
XxX
The suitible activites for ladys are reading and sewing and being kind to people. This is becose they are gentel and quiet and nice things and no mud goes on your dress. Also you should not shout and play rounders becose this is what boys do and then wen you grow up men will not marry you if you are muddy and loud...
Mary couldn't think of anything else to write; besides, this was the silliest thing she'd ever written and she didn't believe a word of it. She stared out of the window at the gloriously sunny day wishing she could be playing outside. Why did boys always get everything fun? Matthew had said she was the best batter of the whole afternoon, much better than all the boys. Why shouldn't she play with them? Anyway, she hated sewing, she thought, stabbing her pen viciously into her paper, making a big black ink blot all over her writing. She decided to write a letter to Matthew instead, just like she'd seen her Mama doing. It must be ladylike too, if her Mama did it, mustn't it? She dipped her pen in the inkwell and began to write in her very best handwriting:
Dear Master Crawley,
i am very sory I could not play rounders today but silly miss winters says i cannot on acount of my being almost a grown up lady but i will play another day wen she isnt looking so there. perhaps we could play in our hiding place tomorow and you could bring your princess book becose that is my favourite?
Lady Mary Crawley
Just as she'd finished blotting the ink, Carson peered round the nursery door.
"Mr Carson, could you please post this for me?" she said, handing the note to him. Carson looked down at the note, stifling a laugh at the contrast between the formal address and signature against the childish letter.
"Is for this Dr Crawley's son?"
Mary nodded. "It needs an envelope though, doesn't it? Like Mama has?"
"Hmmm. I'll see what I can do," he said, soberly folding up the note and tucking it safely away in his inside pocket.
XxX
Next morning, at the breakfast table, Dr Crawley passed his son a letter.
"Master Matthew Crawley, Downton Village, Yorkshire."
Matthew opened it enthusiastically, having never received post of his very own before, addressed only to him! He suppressed his excitement as he read the note, not wanting his father to take notice of him. His father took no notice, fully absorbed in his newspaper, as the little boy excused himself politely, kissing his mother on the cheek as he left, joyfully sprinting up to the Abbey stables as fast as his legs would carry him.
TBC