Chapter 12

Mary silently took a seat beside Matthew. She figured the reason for Lavinia's departure was that something had happened between she and Matthew. Mary wondered if she was responsible. She felt guilty – she had liked Lavinia. Even though she hadn't been able to cope with Matthew's hallucination – he had handled it better than she – she was a sweet girl.

Matthew looked far off. It was not the far-away look he got before a fit, but a sadder look. She so hated to see him upset, and took his hand. He looked at her, and his eyes were watery. Mary cleared her throat. "Do you want to talk about it?" He sighed.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt. I never proposed to Lavinia, so she was not bound to me. The best option was to let her go- I don't believe she would have been able to cope with my-" Mary flinched as he said it, "sickness. She will be quite all right. She was the one who first brought up that we should end it all." Matthew elected to omit the fact that that was only half of his reason for ending his relationship with her.

Mary only nodded, and squeezed his hand. Matthew swallowed thickly, but did not break. He turned to her. "But enough about my affairs… How are things in your life? The Richard Carlisle you told me about?"

Mary grimaced distastefully at his name. "I see no point in lying to you… He proposed." Matthew's heart sank.

"And did you accept?"

"No."

"Did you tell him 'no'?"

"No."

Matthew was confused. "I told him I'd give him my answer when he visits, in two weeks' time," Mary clarified.

"Well, if you do choose to do so, I wish you all the luck in the world." If she married me, she would have to deal with the shell of a man I am, He thought bitterly.

Mary chose this moment to stand, and move behind Matthew's wheelchair. She began to roll him towards the door. "Where are we going?" Matthew wondered.

"Just for some fresh air."

Mary pushed Matthew across the grounds. It was much in the same way she had yesterday, yet she couldn't help but feel there was something was different. There was a sort of divide between them, a new fence that was not there before.

"Mary, please don't allow me to stand in the way of your happiness. If I thought I was, even for a moment, I should jump into the nearest river."

Mary smiled weakly. "And how would you manage that, without my help at the moment?"

Matthew smiled. "Well, I would get you to push me. But, seriously, I want you to be happy, and if I thought I was standing in the way of that, I should go away and never see you again."

"But you don't mean that," Mary protested.

"But I do."

"And what will you do? About marriage I mean."

"I suppose I should like to be alone. I would not want to subject anyone to me, as I am now." Matthew smiled grimly. "I am the cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me. I have nothing to give and nothing to share."

Mary was troubled. "Matthew… I don't have to marry him, you know."

"You don't have to, but do you want to?"

"I don't think so – but there is something…" she swallowed, "Binding me to him."

Matthew was alarmed. "What? What is it?"

Mary turned to him, her face sad. "If you knew the reason, you would despise me, and that I really couldn't bear."

Matthew did not know what reason could be great enough for Mary to subject herself to marrying Richard Carlisle.

Matthew was no stranger to Mary keeping secrets from him, but something felt different this time, and he could feel the tension in the air. He looked for a change of subject, and found one in something that was troubling him deeply. "So… How's William?"

"Not too well, I'm afraid, and quickly deteriorating. It won't be long now…" Mary said sadly. She proceeded to tell Matthew about how the young man who had saved his life lay dying in one of the loveliest rooms of the house, and how he had married Daisy.

Matthew listened quietly, his thoughts finally drifting from Mary and Carlisle. When she finished, he cleared his throat. "If you wouldn't mind, I think I would like to see him."

Mary wheeled Matthew back into Downton and down the hall to where William stayed. She knocked, and Daisy opened the door. She smiled at the young maid. "I do hope we're not intruding," Mary said, gesturing towards Matthew.

Daisy was awestruck, as always, by the great Lady. "Not at all, Milady," she said as she opened the door so Matthew could be wheeled in. Matthew nodded to William's father before turning towards William in his wheelchair

"My dear chap, how do you feel?" He said, before realizing it was a horrid question to ask. The man next to him was dying, his lungs collapsing in on themselves. Of course he's feeling terrible.

"Not too well, I'm afraid, sir," William wheezed. He looked at Matthew's chair. "Are you-"

Matthew realized what William was asking. "No, I'm not paralyzed." More gently, he continued, "You made sure of that."

William smiled, a trace of humor flickering across his ghostly pale face. "I only wish I could've saved your arm, sir."

Matthew grinned in spite of himself. He then became gravely serious, leaning close to William. "I want to thank you, properly. For what you did. You went above and beyond your duty."

William leaned back, Matthew's words giving him peace. Matthew didn't have any more to say, and nodded to Mary, signaling she should wheel him out. She backed him up, and pushed him out of the room. "Oh. I need to grab one thing. Would you be alright for a moment?" Matthew nodded, wondering what she had possibly left in the two minutes they were in there.

Mary quickly slipped back into William's room. She leaned down next to William, her lips close to his ear. "Thank you. I thank you. More than anyone would ever be able to ever comprehend- thank you for bringing him back to me." She leaned back, and her eyes met his. She saw understanding in them, and William almost imperceptibly nodded.

She left the room and returned to Matthew's side. "Did you find what you left?" He inquired.

Mary gazed down at him "As it turned out, there was nothing in that room I didn't already have here." He looked confused, but remained silent as she rolled him down the hall.