Chapter 10
Mary pushed Matthew across the lawn of Downton, her heels sinking into the soft earth. "I shall have arms like Jack Johnson if I'm not careful," she smiled at Matthew."
Matthew only grinned up at her. He was luxuriating in the sun, which had felt so foreign after two years of the dark trenches, weeks in battlefield hospitals, and a week inside at Downton. He didn't say what he wanted to her. Even with Jack Johnson's arms, you would still be so incredibly lovely, he had wanted to mummer, he quickly pushed the thought down – Mary was a friend, nothing more. "I could wheel myself…" he began to protest, but immediately stopped, feeling foolish. With one arm in a sling, and he still so weak that he couldn't even feed himself, he could no better wheel his chair then stand up and go frolicking through the grounds of Downton.
Mary only eyed him and gently commented, "I'll be the judge of that." She continued to push Matthew in silence. Matthew couldn't help but tip his head back, enjoying the warming of his perpetually cold body. He felt wonderful. He hadn't felt this good since before the start of the war… Since things had ended between he and Mary.
Robert Crawley watched from a window in the house, observing his eldest daughter push the man he considered to be his son across Downton's lawn. He noticed how the other soldiers stared and even whistled at Mary. Mary was completely oblivious. She had eyes only for Matthew.
He felt a pain in his heart. How badly he – how badly everyone (excluding Edith) wanted Matthew and Mary to eventually find each other. Everyone could see their obvious love for each other – everyone except, curiously enough, the pair of them. He was relieved that neither of them was engaged to their… prospect. There was still hope for them, if they both stopped being so stubborn long enough to just accept each other.
He was concerned. The man who was courting Mary, Sir Richard Carlisle, was coming to visit Downton in two weeks. Robert knew they weren't engaged, but there was an unanswered proposal. He hoped dearly she did not accept. He was jolted from his thoughts when he heard Carson's deep tone announce his presence. "My Lord?"
"Yes, Carson?"
"There is…A visitor."
He followed Carson down to the main hall. When he saw who the visitor was, his heart dropped to his stomach.
Mary continued to push Matthew across the lawn of Downton. She heard Anna calling, "Milady?" as she hurried towards Mary and Matthew. "Milady. There's a visitor." Mary was perplexed.
"Who?"
"For Mr. Crawley."
Mary didn't know who it could be, and she looked at Matthew who shrugged. Mary wheeled Matthew back across the lawn to Downton. When she pushed him through the door, she stopped dead.
"Lavinia." Mary and Matthew simultaneously breathed.
Lavinia smiled innocently, sweetly, as she crossed the room to Matthew's side. "Matthew. How are you feeling?" she asked warmly, oblivious to the shocked reactions of the family around them.
"Uh-" Matthew stammered, "Quite alright, thank you."
"I do hope I'm not intruding too much. Lady Grantham had said it was quite all right if I came to visit you." Cora looked like a fox cornered by dogs.
"Ah… I see… So kind of you to visit…" Matthew responded, still stunned. He was grateful when Robert cut in. "Shall we head on to luncheon?"
Matthew sat next to Lavinia during lunch as she blindly chattered about what had been happening in London in Matthew's absence. She was totally oblivious to everyone else in the room's discomfort.
After lunch was finished, Lord Grantham regretfully offered Matthew the library to catch up with Lavinia. Mary watched as Lavinia rolled Matthew into the library, her heart twisting into a knot.
She wasn't sure what to do, having become so accustomed to constantly being in Matthew's presence. It was a welcome relief when Anna came into the room. "Telephone for you, milady." Mary followed Anna, and picked up the receiver.
"Lady Mary Crawley," she answered the telephone.
"Hello, Lady Mary," A smooth voice crackled over the line, and Mary recognized it as none other than that of Richard Carlisle.
"Ah, Richard, so nice of you to call," Mary said, adopting her usual haughty tone.
"I'm afraid it won't be so nice when you hear what it's about."
"Oh, dear, that sounds rather serious."
"It is. I need you to come down to London immediately."
Mary's heart sank. She knew exactly what was wrong. "I'll be there as soon as possible," she said, then went and informed Robert of her departure. He did not question her, seeing the urgency in her eyes.
Five hours later, Mary walked, with is much grace as she could muster, into Richard Carlisle's office.
"Lady Mary," Richard greeted her. He stood. "I am impressed with how quickly you arrived," he said, the lines on his forehead deepening.
"It sounded urgent," was all Mary could manage. She knew what was coming.
"It is," Richard began, enjoying the power he felt he had over Mary at the moment. "Mary, I have been informed about the story regarding the late Mr. Pamuk."
Mary closed her eyes against the impact of his words. She had tried to prepare herself on the train up, but his words still hit her, hard.
She steadied herself. "And I assume you want something to keep it secret?"
Richard smiled, and bade she sit down. He then informed her of the offer he was willing to make her. She could marry him, and save herself and her family from scandal. Or, she could refuse, and he would publish.
"You have two weeks to decide. I will be visiting Downton at that point, and you may tell me your choice." He then dismissed her, as if she were a maid. She seethed at his treatment of her. She was livid, and left for the train that would carry her back to Downton.
Little did Mary know that a few hours after she had left, Lavinia had accidentally dropped her tea cup as she spoke to Matthew; she gasped when it hit, when it shattered with a loud crash. She had knelt down to try and pick up the pieces. When a maid hurried into the room and she stood up, she gasped again.
Matthew's eyes were open but unseeing, his lips moving, shouting silent commands to his comrades…