Life of a Lily Chapter 8

Okay so I've gotten through what I wanted to do in terms of Lily's relationship with the members of the family I felt either important or just thought it would be a cute moment. This story is mostly about the life of Lily Crawley (as if you couldn't tell by the title haha!) and her relationships with her brothers, parents, grandparents, cousins, etc.

The rest of this story is going to be focused on her growing up in Downton and the trials and tribulations that happen on the way (because as has been said, Matthew and Mary are cursed so of course their daughter, whom they tried so hard to have, would have a more difficult life). You can assume every chapter that does not start out with an announcement of her age continues on in the age that came from the previous chapter. Eventually, these sections will get longer and longer as the story goes on…

I don't really have a direct focus of what events I want to put in this story, only that there is one storyline that I will get to eventually (and all of the chapters that include my original ideas, including this one, will have something to do with that storyline in some big or small way, so you have tiny tiny clues!), so if you have any suggestions please that me know, I would be very open to them (and maybe I could even connect them to my big storyline)!

Sorry to ramble, here is the next chapter! We are now out of the 20s and into the 1930s now! (I am aware that this is during the Great Depression but I am having it like Matthew's ideas saved Downton and protected it from ruin, even the recession)

3 years old…

Gratefully Matthew collapsed beside his wife, their sweaty bodies moving to embrace one another for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"I love you," Mary gasped.

"I love you too," Matthew murmured into her hair.

"You'd think we'd get to do this more often," Mary chuckled into his chest, her fingers gently running over his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck, pressing delicate kisses to him. Matthew groaned.

"We have a toddler in the house," he sighed. "Who enjoys ditching poor Mrs. Jensen in the mornings and snuggling with her Mama and Papa. And boys who would know what we were doing."

"It's a poor habit you know Matthew, we should try and get her to stop," Mary's fingers now danced over his chest and moved lower. Matthew bit his lip, if she was going to talk so seriously and do this to him, two could play at that game.

"I don't know," he sighed, pressing a kiss behind her ear, his hand gently brushing over her hip. "If it keeps her Papa's little girl, I'd let her sleep in bed with us all night."

"But when would we ever have time for this," Mary giggled and rolled completely on top of him to press a kiss to his lips. Matthew groaned louder this time, deepening the kiss quickly.

"My stamina is no longer up to par with before we had children," Matthew hissed. "We must wait."

"Who knows when we will get to do this again?" Mary sighed contently, resolving to stay on top of him, but simply lay her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"True," Matthew smirked as Mary closed her eyes. He allowed himself to catch his breath for a minute, relishing in the intimate time they were sharing. Before she realized what was happening, Matthew grasped her shoulders and flipped her over, so he was on top again.

"What happened to your poor stamina," she smirked, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

"It realized that I have a beautiful wife who is asking for me," he leaned down to kiss her neck, and then lower, eliciting a gasp from Mary. "And I'd be a fool to pass it up."

Tonight was a rare occurrence, usually when they made love they locked the door, then made sure they at least were partially dressed and unlocked it so in the morning, Lily, if she decided she wanted to snuggle that morning, could come into bed with them. Instead, they were so exhausted they fell asleep in each other's naked embrace, blissfully happy.

That was until about two hours later.

"Mama," they heard a cry and a knock on the other side of the door. "Papa. The door is locked." Matthew's eyes snapped open and he shook Mary awake.

"Matthew the sun is not even up yet," she mumbled, burrowing further into the covers.

"Lily's awake," he hissed.

"Mama," it sounded like she was choking back a sob. "Papa." Lily was usually cheery when she wanted to snuggle, and about six hours later. Mary jumped up with a gasp.

"It is alright Lily, we will be right there," she called and grabbed her dressing gown, and tied it tightly around her. Matthew put his pajama pants on and unlocked the door. On the other side, he observed his three year old was clearly not herself.

Usually her eyes were bright and hopeful that he would pick her up and hug her to his chest. Today, they looked up at him tiredly, full of tears. Her face was pale, and her long hair sticky to her sweaty face.

"Lily," he gasped. "My darling girl did you have a nightmare." She shook her head and started to cry again. Mary's head snapped up in alarm, Lily was like her, the older she got, the more quickly she got out of the crying phase. She didn't even reach up for him to pick her up, but Matthew knew what he was to feel as he held her to his bare chest. "Good God."

"What?" Mary rushed over and immediately felt her head. "Matthew, she is burning up!"

"Mama," she cried.

"Oh my darling girl, it is okay," Mary brushed her hair out of her face. Lily had been a fairly healthy child most of her short life, Mary honestly couldn't remember the last time she had a fever bad enough for her to come crying to them. "Mama and Papa have you now." Matthew sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her closer, Lily curling around him and crying pitifully into his chest.

"She's really hot," Matthew choked back. "I've never felt someone have this high of a fever."

"We must ring Clarkson," Mary said.

"We mustn't wake him," Matthew shook his head. "We've dealt with fevers before."

"Never of this caliber," she hissed. She noticed her daughter had suddenly become very green and snatched her out of Matthew's arms, before he could even protest the sound of her retching began. Luckily there was a few dry heaves before Mary had managed to get her over to the wash basin, throwing up what little she had in her stomach.

"Mama," she cried between throwing up.

"My girl it will be fine, it will be alright, Mama's got you," Mary rubbed her back gently. "Matthew, get a cool rag, we need to bring her fever down." Matthew did so immediately, placing it on the back of his baby girl's neck as she continued to retch for another minute before all but collapsing in Mary's arms. Too exhausted to even cry.

"Perhaps you're right about Clarkson," Matthew murmured.

"No," she shook her head as Lily laid her head on Mary's lap. She stroked her hair gently. "You are right. We'll call him in the morning and send the motor over, that is if she does not get better. It might just be the bug Bertie had last week."

"If you are sure," Matthew sighed.

"Darling, what else is the matter?" Mary asked as Lily finally looked up at her sadly.

"My throat," she croaked.

"See," Mary said. "Bertie had a sore throat last week, she's young, and she must just have it worse than he."

"For someone who was panicking a second ago, you gained your composure quickly," Matthew tried to joke. Mary smiled up at him sadly.

"Do you want to go to sleep in Mama and Papa's bed my darling?" Mary suggested. Lily nodded and reached her arms up and Mary gathered her in her arms and brought her to their bed. Matthew got another cool rag and laid it on her head as she settled her head on Mary's chest. Matthew rubbed her back while Mary hummed softly in her ear until their daughter's soft snores filled the room.

"My poor girl," Matthew murmured.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Mary smiled sadly. "She is my daughter after all." Fatigue hitting them both, Mary wrapped both her arms around Lily and pushed her face into her long curly hair, breathing a deep sigh, before falling asleep. Matthew continued to look at them for several minutes, marveling how alike they both were, before joining them.

They were woken up three hours later, Lily vomiting all over herself and Mary. Immediately Lily began to sob.

"No, shhh, no it's alright," Mary immediately shushed. "Mama will get changed and Papa will get you changed and I'll meet you in your room, okay?" Lily nodded but continued to cry as Matthew slipped on his shirt and picked her up, worrying slightly more about his daughter and wishing they had called Clarkson when Lily first came to them. As her skin touched his Matthew bit his lip, she was significantly warmer than earlier.

Mrs. Jensen jumped straight up to Lily's sobs as Matthew entered the room.

"Mr. Crawley," she gasped. "Lily- I-"

"It's alright," he said. "I don't blame you; we all know how adept Lily is to escaping this room."

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Jensen asked.

"She has a fever," Matthew said, setting Lily down on her bed and stripping her of her nightgown. "Here, could you please dispose of this." Mrs. Jensen grabbed it as Matthew turned to find another nightgown for her to where. Meanwhile, Lily had lain down on her bed, her back to the door. Matthew heard Mary come in but didn't turn around.

"Matthew," she croaked, as words failed her suddenly. "Matthew." It still came out in a whisper, her voice shaking. "MATTHEW!" her voice gained sudden ferocity as the last Matthew was screeched out. She must have woken the entire house because as Matthew whipped around she heard quick footsteps running down the hallway. Matthew froze at what his wife was looking at.

Lily's back was covered in a red, angry looking, rash.

"Dear god," he choked as Robert and Cora rushed in, Tom a few seconds behind.

"Wha-" Mary let out a sob that cut Robert off and Matthew whirled around to face him.

"Someone get Clarkson," he hissed. "NOW!"

"Mama, what is it?" William came running. Cora, shocked and grief stricken immediately held her grandson back. They couldn't come in contact with Lily, none of them could, for they all knew what she had and they just needed conformation.

"No," Mary finally managed to whisper.

Mary couldn't believe her eyes as she watched Dr. Clarkson, with a mask on, leaning over her daughter. Checking her pulse, checking her heart, observing the rash at a careful distance. Lily was too tired to protest, but the fear in her drooping eyes made Mary want to run towards her and hold her. Finally Dr. Clarkson nodded and motioned for them to follow him outside.

"Just say it," Mary croaked. "It was in the village, I know. She has it doesn't she."

"Yes Lady Mary," Dr. Clarkson nodded. "All signs do point that Miss Lily does indeed have Scarlet fever." The words now said aloud, Mary sobbed and Matthew immediately grabbed her in his arms and tried to console her; it was in vain, he could not form a single word being as equally distraught himself.

"What about Sybbie, William, and Bertie," Tom spoke up.

"I must check them as well, but I suggest they move out of here, tonight, and into Crawley House," Dr. Clarkson said. "Her room needs to be sterilized, no one can go in or out except me."

"And me," Mary announced.

"Lady Mary, I'm afraid you cannot, not while she is contagious," Dr. Clarkson shook his head. "I'd send her to an infectious disease hospital if not for the availability to quarantine this room. And how I'd know Lord Grantham or you for that matter would never allow it."

"She threw up on me this morning," Mary's voice was devoid of all emotion. "I'm as much of a risk to everyone else, I must stay with her. She mustn't be alone; I WON'T let my baby girl be alone."

"Mary, be reasonable," Cora whispered.

"No Mama, Lily needs me, she's scared and she's… she's…"

"There has been a significant drop in…" Dr. Clarkson measured his words carefully and decided not to go that way. "There has been success, with the new serum; I intend to inject it to her once I return from checking the other children."

"She hates needles," Mary whispered.

"I'm afraid I have no choice, and that she might not even be conscious for it," Dr. Clarkson said. "I do not believe I can stop you from staying with her Lady Mary, so on that note, I urge you to be careful who else you come in contact with after your daughter. I shall be back." He followed Robert to where Cora had shepherded the rest of the children.

"Mary," Matthew said hoarsely.

"I'm staying with her," Mary whispered. "There is nothing you can say or do that will stop me Matthew."

"But what about Bertie and William," Matthew choked out. "What about me?" Mary sighed, tears leaking out of her eyes, and turned to him. She placed a hand on his chest.

"I'll wear a mask," she murmured. "But I can't let her be alone, I just can't. Not when she could-"

"And I wouldn't want her to be, but Mary it's so dangerous," Matthew shook his head.

"She is worth it, is she not?" Mary's voice cracked. "But what about you, I can't lose you too." Was what he wanted to say; but the truth in the matter was, Lily was worth it. He would take her place if he had the choice. If Lily had thrown up on him he'd offer the same thing as Mary was for his daughter, he'd offer his life.

"Tell her," Matthew tried to hide his tears. He couldn't fall apart now that Mary was being so strong. "Tell her that Papa loves her very much."

"You will tell her yourself in a few weeks," she said strongly. "But I will." Matthew hugged Mary tightly again, it all felt surreal. Yesterday, the family had gone to luncheon with Isobel, Lily had played outside for hours giggling, laughing, carefree, and full of energy. As she usually was, as she always was. And now she was lying in bed, sick, maybe even dying.

That's when he remembered, they had walked there, Lily running ahead, playing with some of the younger children in the village for a brief moment, but it only took a brief moment for it to spread. A village child's ball had landed over the fence in Crawley House's garden; Lily had picked it up and given it back. She hovered at the gate for a moment, chatting about whatever three year olds could.

"Dr. Clarkson," Matthew said his voice hard as the doctor returned.

"Yes Mr. Crawley," Dr. Clarkson nodded.

"The village children who had it, did they live?" Matthew asked. Dr. Clarkson deeply considered his answer before speaking up.

"One of them did," he sighed and Matthew shut his eyes tightly.

"Mary, where shall you sleep?" Matthew asked.

"In Mrs. Jensen's bed, I think she should go to Crawley house to help Miss Emily will the children, they will be in such a state," Mary fretted. "Let William and Bertie know that I love them very much." Matthew's jaw tightened.

"Tell them yourself if a few weeks," he repeated the same words his wife had said to him.

"Oh Matthew," Mary cried, throwing her arms around him brief, kissing his cheek, and separating. Matthew cupped his wife's cheek gently.

"Take care of our girl," he nodded.

"Take care of our boys and I'll see you when I see you," Mary smiled at him before nodding at Dr. Clarkson and entering the room.

The chills that wracked her child's body were unbearable to even watch, no matter how many blankets were piled on top of her. Mary sat and held her hand while she watched Dr. Clarkson and a nurse remove every piece of clothing Lily had come in contact with the past week, her stuffed animals were gone, her original bedding gone. The room was stripped and bare; it no longer looked like the nursery. Mary's heart broke thinking of how, if she was not delirious, Lily would be crying for her beloved stuffed dog 'Red' that she named after her favorite color that was now in a bag, ready to be burned.

"Mama," Lily croaked. "My throat."

"I know my darling, I know it hurts," Mary rubbed her hand up and down her daughter's sweaty arm, surprised she was even able to form words.

"Swallow," Lily gasped and she watched as her little chest heaved for air.

"Dr. Clarkson," Mary cried as she watched her daughter struggle, her tears had long since been completely dried out, she was sure if she ever slept a wink, they would return. He rushed over a placed a hand on her chest.

"It's alright, just breathe," he calmed. "Don't swallow just breathe, I know it feels scary but it's okay."

"Come on my darling girl," Mary crooned. "In, out, in, out." She relaxed visibly as Lily's chest began to move in synchronization with the words she would saying. "In, out, in, out."

"Her fever has riven," Dr. Clarkson noted, feeling her head, noting her cheek was now covered in a rash. As Lily breathed harshly, the red enflamed tongue was bright as day, if there was any doubt she had scarlet fever it was confirmed now.

"My poor girl," Mary pursed her lips, wishing she could press her lips to Lily's cheek, her hand, anything that could help comfort her.

"These next few hours, these next few days, will tell," Dr. Clarkson nodded. "If she survives them, she'll live."

"She will," Mary whispered. "Because she is my baby girl and always will be my baby girl."

I did as much research as I could on scarlet fever in the beginning of the 1900s and since penicillin wasn't yet created there was still a significant mortality rate, so I truly hope this is not overdramatic for something that isn't as fatal as it used to (and hardly is now).

Please, please review. It lets me know if people enjoy the story and if I should continue writing. Just drop a line, it does not have to be a novel, a simple "Like it" will suffice. Even if it is constructive criticism I would appreciate it (although telling me this story sucks would not be appreciated, I deleted the review very promptly after I received one that said that, it's called constructive criticism for a reason—tell me what I can improve on to make this story better. If you don't have something nice to say, and in my opinion telling me what I can do to improve is nice, please do not say it at all.)

Okay, now that I've succeeded in sufficiently rambling in this chapter, I will let you all continue with your day haha!