Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, September 1912
"You look rather pleased with yourself," Anna said. "Did the dinner with your new cousins go well?"
"Not at all," Mary huffed. "She's nice enough but he's very full of himself."
"So why are you smiling then?"
"Oh it has nothing to do with tonight's dinner. Nothing at all. I've just been thinking about something else."
Chapter 2:
London, England, July 1911
"Matthew! Wait! Would you just stop and listen!"
"To what?" he turned and snarled at Mary. "What possible explanation could you offer for…for that?" His arm cut through the air, pointing back down the hall before falling to his side.
"He pulled me into the conservatory! I didn't invite him there!" Mary said indignantly.
"But you didn't protest, did you? No, you were rather pleased that a Duke lusted after you, I'm sure," Matthew retorted.
"Don't be ridiculous! It is perfectly acceptable for me to receive invitations. I am here for my Season, after all. Did you expect me to live like a nun for two months?"
"Oh, I would never ask you to ignore your duty, Lady Mary," Matthew grunted, looking up at the ceiling before glaring back at her. "I'm sure your dance card is full of tremendous gentlemen, each one with more grander prospects than the next."
"Argh, you're being impossible!"
"Did you expect me to stand idly by and watch? To do nothing, to feel nothing while you flirted and danced with all of these pathetic spoiled prats with their pompous airs and raised noses?" His eyes were angry but there was a hint of something else behind them.
"What do you want from me, Matthew? What?! Tell me! Tell me what to do then, if you have all the answers!" Mary spat back. "Do you want me to march back to Grantham House, introduce you formally and tell my parents that we're running off together? Will that satisfy you?"
Matthew frowned in frustration and looked away.
"I can't believe you! This is my debut Season, Matthew! Do you understand how much that means to my family? I've been preparing for this for years! Years! And here you are expecting me to ignore all of that and to what? Reject every invitation I may receive all because of your petty jealousy?"
Matthew's eyes sparked with rage. "Did you enjoy it?" he demanded, looking fiercely at her.
"What are you talking about?" she asked in shock.
"Did you enjoy it?" his voice was cold and even. "Did you enjoy feeling his hands on you? Did you enjoy how he forced you into his kiss? Did you enjoy that bastard leering at you like some toy that belonged to him?"
Mary swallowed, her pulse quickening as her anger and exasperation consumed her and flared. She took a breath before responding.
"No," she admitted, her voice quiet and equally cold. "I didn't enjoy it. It felt wrong."
"Why?" Matthew stepped towards her until there was barely a breath's distance between them. "Tell me why it felt wrong."
Mary closed her eyes, then opened them and stared back as her vision was filled with a deep blue that she knew so well. His eyes were clouded over in a look that she could now easily recognize. It was not a look of anger. It was a look she imagined he reserved only for her.
"It was wrong because his hands felt strange, his lips were cold and clammy, his stare felt lecherous and disgusting," she said finally.
Mary's tongue involuntarily reached out and wet her lips. Matthew's eyes widened as he watched her, his mouth partly open, before he pulled his gaze back to her eyes. The deep brown of her eyes were dark with an emotion that he knew mirrored his own.
"Why?" he breathed, the word barely a whisper now, his anger quelled and replaced by a heat of a different kind.
"Because," Mary replied, her voice catching in her throat. "Because he wasn't you."
Matthew's restraint broke and he embraced her. Mary's hands flew to his back and neck, meeting his lips ardently with her own. His kiss was passionate, but his touch was warm and soft, his tongue inviting as hers lingered upon it. They both had tried to keep their distance, he with his clients and her with her Season. It was futile.
They finally came apart, breathing deeply as they held each other close.
"I can't," Matthew cringed, upset at his own weakness. "I can't stand seeing you with…with them. I know I have no right, Mary, and I only want what's best for you, but I…"
"Shh," she said softly, placing her fingers on his lips. "In another place, in another time, Matthew, you know that I would be yours gladly. Let's just take the time we have left, darling, please. Can you do that for me?"
"Of course. Anything, Mary," he replied.
It was wrong. It would only hurt both of them to prolong this charade. It would make their inevitable parting in a few weeks' time even more heartbreaking. But as he kissed her again, and as her hands went into his blond hair, the moment they shared was as it had often been between them since they first met. They were happy.
Downton Abbey, England, September 1912
Mary blew out the candle on her nightstand and lay back among the pillows. Her Mama's words echoed in her mind just as the memory of Matthew's kisses during her Season, and just this evening in the library lingered so clearly.
"I believe there's an answer which would secure your future and give you a position." Cora told her.
Mary smiled widely and covered her mouth as she broke into a fit of muffled giggles. Her future as Matthew's wife and Countess of Grantham. She closed her eyes, her smile still on her lips. It was too perfect to be believed.
Downton Abbey, England, October 1912
Mary walked down the upstairs hall with Edith next to her and Sybil trailing behind. She picked out her outfit specifically for the occasion. She was permitted to wear some colours again as she was no longer in full mourning for Patrick. Being able to wear grey instead of just black was a Godsend. Matthew had never seen her wear this type of hat before and she hoped he would be intrigued. He was the only man she had ever known who seemed to notice any little change – if she cut her hair even an inch shorter, he would note it; if she had a new frock, he seemed to comment on it before even her sisters did. She smiled at the thought of seeing him once again.
"Why must we all go to the hospital?" Edith asked, waking Mary from her reverie.
"It's the announcement of Cousin Isobel's new position, of course," Sybil volunteered.
"I'm afraid Papa wants to teach Granny a lesson. Poor Granny. A month ago, these people were strangers. Now she must share power with the mother and I must marry the son," Mary replied.
"You won't marry him, though, will you?" Edith asked, looking at Mary questioningly.
'Of course I will!' Mary's mind screamed. But she could not say anything yet. Matthew had just arrived and her plan had just been hatched. Mary debated telling her sisters the truth in confidence but quickly dismissed the thought. Sybil would not betray her but she could never trust Edith with anything. Smiling wryly at her sister, she kept her indifferent façade.
"What, marry a sea monster?" They laughed together.
"We shouldn't laugh. That's so unkind," Sybil reprimanded them.
Mary swallowed as they descended the stairs. It was unkind. It was downright unfair. Matthew did not deserve her ire, even if it was all an act. 'I'll make it up to him,' she vowed. She found herself making that promise many times in the past month since his arrival.
"But he must marry someone," Edith said nonchalantly, again interrupting Mary's thoughts of Matthew.
"Edith, what are you thinking?" Mary asked with a bit more curiosity than she wanted to show.
"You know, I don't dislike him as much as you do."
'What the hell is that supposed to mean? You daft twit, he's taken! He's mine!' Mary's mind reeled once again. She stayed composed and decided to explore this train of thought Edith put out.
"Perhaps you don't dislike him at all," Mary suggested guardedly.
"Perhaps I don't," Edith answered smugly.
Mary rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous. First, Edith pined for Patrick, Mary's secret fiancé who Mary herself barely cared for beyond him being her cousin. Now, Edith had set her sights on the man Mary actually did care for, but pretended not to? She should have quashed Edith's aspirations on the spot, but she could not think of how to do so without revealing her actual feelings for Matthew.
"Well, it's nothing to me. I have bigger fish to fry," she said indifferently, her stomach fluttering at yet another false statement about Matthew.
"What fish?" Sybil asked innocently.
'Damn. What fish? What fish indeed?' Mary could care less what other fish were out there. Her biggest catch had landed right in her lap when she thought he had gotten away. Thanks to Matthew, she didn't need to bother with the Duke of Crowborough's of the world any longer. She struggled trying to think of a name that would placate her sisters but that she would not need to actually pursue.
"Are we talking about E.N.?" Edith asked.
'Evelyn! Perfect,' Mary thought.
"How do you know that? Have you been poking around in my things?" Mary accused her sister.
"Of course not!" Edith defended herself. Mary knew it was a lie, but it was fortuitous just the same.
"Come on, who is he? It's not fair if you both know," Sybil whined.
"You won't be any the wiser, but his name is Evelyn Napier."
"The Honourable Evelyn Napier, son and heir of the Viscount Branksome."
Mary smiled, which her sisters of course mistook for some proof of her feelings for Evelyn. 'Let them think that,' Mary thought, which made her smirk even more. Evelyn Napier – a gentleman, a nobleman, exactly the type of man that her sisters and family would expect her to encourage. His letters were flattering enough, but he was more suited to be a friend than a lover and husband. He would have been in the running back months ago, and she had enjoyed some pleasant conversation with him during the summer and winter in London, but Evelyn could not impress her now even if he was the Prince of Wales.
"Who wants an old sea monster when they can have Perseus?" Mary laughed to her sisters as they reached the Great Hall and walked towards the door. It was hardly Mary's fault if her sisters incorrectly assumed which man was actually playing which role in Mary's story.
Downton Village Hospital, England, October 1912
Mary fell into step with Matthew as they filed out of the hospital. She knew that others would be watching them so she had to be careful.
"Papa says he's invited you to dinner tonight," she began.
"He has. Will you be there?" he responded, keeping his gaze facing forward so it would not appear as though they were speaking closely.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, looking up at the sky.
"Oh I don't know. I assumed you'd find something better to hold your interest," he smirked.
"Perhaps I will. Nevertheless, I can still dine with my family. Having you there won't deter me. Besides, it's your mother's day of glory, so Papa will want me to be there with everyone else." She dared to look at him now. They were walking next to each other and surely even if she was pretending to hate him, she could still be polite and engage him in conversation, she reasoned.
"I thought Cousin Violet would want to keep us away from the Big House tonight while she battened down the hatches," Matthew said evenly.
Mary held her smile back as best she could, but glared at him. He wasn't supposed to be so charming in public. Or, at the very least, he wasn't supposed to be charming enough to affect her.
"Yes, well Granny would rather keep her enemies close than openly move against them. To do so would show weakness, as if she actually cared about them, you see."
"Ah," Matthew nodded.
"What time will you be arriving?" Mary asked quietly.
"Any time I suppose. My afternoon is clear."
"The weather seems to be cooling. I may spend the afternoon in the library before dressing for dinner," she said, looking away from him.
"Is that where you like to shield yourself from prying eyes?" Matthew asked, also looking away.
"Yes," Mary replied. "I find it can be a fortress when necessary."
"I've never seen you wear a hat like that before," Matthew said. Stealing a glance at her, he whispered. "It looks very fetching on you."
Mary blushed as she turned away from his gaze. "Thank you," she replied without looking at him. "I was hoping you would notice."
He smiled and touched the brim of his hat to her. He walked on ahead, catching up to his mother.
As Mary got into the waiting motor, her mother turned to her.
"What were you discussing with Cousin Matthew?"
"Oh nothing," Mary rolled her eyes. "I was hoping he would say he had something come up to keep him from joining us for dinner, but he seems to have disappointed me yet again, not surprisingly."
"Your Papa invited him. What else would he have to do?"
"Well it is Cousin Isobel's special day after all. I assumed he would go celebrate at a pub or whatever it is the middle class do for entertainment."
Edith laughed and even Sybil giggled.
"I see your manners have not improved with regard to Cousin Matthew," Cora said, shaking her head.
"I don't see why they needed to improve in the first place," Mary replied casually. "Mama, I'm at least speaking to him in public. That should count as a victory to you."
Downton Abbey, England, October 1912
Mary scanned the books on the shelf in front of her, glancing over to the door every few minutes. She was growing impatient when she saw the knob turn slowly. Matthew stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Mary pretended to be engrossed with the books in front of her. Matthew stepped towards her quietly, and she smiled as he neared.
"I hadn't seen the small library before," he said.
"Yes, it's quieter here, more private. The servants tend not to come in," she replied, not taking her eyes off the shelves in front of her.
"I could see how that would have its benefits," he said, stealing a glance across her body. She had removed her hat from earlier and her hair was still pinned neatly. Matthew smiled at the memory of helping her remove the pins from her hair and seeing it cascade around her shoulders.
"Indeed. At the right time of day, or later in the evening, one can escape here for an hour or more and no one would be the wiser."
Matthew smiled, unable to stop himself. Mary turned and reached for him and he was quickly beside her. They kissed softly, their urgency held in check.
"We must be quiet," Mary whispered, a grin spreading across her face to match Matthew's. "No one comes here, but it's possible someone could see each of us going in here and not coming out."
"Then we'll need to be as discrete as possible," Matthew breathed, each word punctuated by a kiss to Mary's lips, cheek and neck.
"Don't mark me!" she warned, allowing him the full length of her neck. "I won't be able to explain it."
"You were rather ingenious in explaining the love bite I gave you during the summer. What did you call it? An allergic reaction to a mosquito?"
Mary laughed warmly at the thought. "There are no mosquitoes here in the autumn, and everyone knows I've been indoors all afternoon!"
Matthew pulled back and they both immediately regretted the lost closeness. Matthew picked a book off the shelf randomly and went and sat down. Mary did the same and took a chair to the side of him, allowing her to see the door as they sat.
"How are you?" she asked genuinely. They had not spoken very much at all since their 'argument' over dinner weeks ago. She had wracked her brain trying to find a way for them to meet in private, but could not formulate a plan without involving one of the servants, or risking discovery. The small library was not ideal, but it would do.
"I'm doing all right, I suppose," Matthew grumbled, keeping his gaze on his book to maintain the illusion that they were reading separately. "I'm trying to use Molesley more often, give him something to do."
Mary smiled as she turned a page she had not bothered to read. "My, my, becoming rather settled in our new position aren't we?"
Matthew shook his head, but kept his gaze firmly on his book. "Well, Cousin Robert is right. We all have our parts to play and far be it from me to deny Molesley his ambition as a valet."
After several more minutes of conversation, Mary closed her book and rose with a sigh. "I should go. The dressing gong will be sounding soon and they'll be looking for me. You should go and find Papa. He'll want to tell you more about the Estate, I'm sure."
"I'd rather listen to you talk about it," Matthew said softly, earning him a smile from Mary as she turned to leave.
"Mary," Matthew whispered, causing her to turn and look at him. "Can we use this room again?"
"Of course," Mary smiled. "That's why I suggested it. Mama usually takes tea in the afternoons and sometimes takes Edith and Sybil along with her to Dower House or to one of the neighbours. I can usually beg out of it, so long as I make an appearance from time to time. If you can get here after work, Papa will usually be occupied. Tell Carson you'll wait for Papa in the library, and that will give us a few moments alone."
"A few moments," Matthew said dejectedly.
"You were hoping for hours to ourselves?" Mary asked teasingly.
"The hope did cross my mind, yes," Matthew admitted.
"Well I can't very well devote my time to you without an explanation. It makes no sense for two people who don't like each other to spend time together."
"Oh I don't know about that," Matthew smiled at her. "I think Matthew Crawley, heir presumptive to the Earl of Grantham could be convinced to not hate you as much as you think."
Mary smiled. "Then that shall be your task, Matthew. Yes, I think you putting in the effort to try to win me over would work quite nicely actually."
"Challenge accepted."
Mary blew him a kiss then left the small library, walking quickly from the larger library so they would not be seen leaving close together. She ran into Bates as she came into the Great Hall.
"Ah, Bates. Cousin Matthew is in the library. Apparently he was looking for Papa. Could you go and find his Lordship, please? You know I would hate to do any favours for Cousin Matthew."
"Of course, Milady," Bates nodded. Mary walked away, a smirk coming to her lips.