Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, January 1913
"Should I dare to get my hopes up that you may come to me later after everyone has retired?" he asked quietly.
"You're being quite forward, Cousin Matthew," Mary whispered back.
"I am," Matthew said, and his tone of voice nearly caused Mary's knees to buckle. "Come to me tonight. Please." The last word was more of a plea than a confident command.
Mary smiled in triumph and spoke quickly without looking at him.
"I suppose you'll just have to see."
She walked away from him and rejoined Sybil and Edith. She felt his eyes on her back and she shivered in delight as she planned their late night rendezvous in her mind.
"See, Mary?" Sybil gushed. "Even you have to admit that Cousin Matthew is a wonderful dancer."
"He's fine, Sybil," Mary replied indifferently, turning around and smiling inwardly as she saw Matthew standing stiffly next to her Papa, his one hand fidgeting with his coat.
"Nothing special," she smirked.
Chapter 6:
Downton Abbey, England, January 1913
"Matthew, Carson said you were here," Robert smiled as he walked into the library.
"Cousin Robert!" Matthew said rather loudly. "Yes, I…erm…I had a question about one of the farms."
"Fine. I'll have Carson bring the ledgers over and we can have tea. Have a seat," Robert said as he walked towards the cord.
"No!" Matthew exclaimed. Robert turned back to him with a bewildered expression.
"That is, no, you…you needn't do that on my account. Bringing the ledgers out, I mean, and…the tea. Perhaps, erm…perhaps we could walk out and talk. I feel the need for some fresh air," Matthew finished, adding a rather excessive amount of cheer to his voice.
"Well, it's rather cold outside, Matthew," Robert replied, eyeing his heir curiously.
"Of course," Matthew agreed, looking around the room. "But, you see Cousin, I've been trapped in an office all day so some brisk English country air will do me well."
"Very well," Robert smiled carefully. "Let's go out to the hall. Carson can fetch our coats. I suppose that Isis hasn't had her walk yet so she can accompany us."
"Splendid! After you, Cousin," Matthew waved his hand towards the door.
Robert looked at Matthew curiously, then walked towards the door. He looked back at Matthew once again. Matthew smiled at him and Robert continued on into the Great Hall, shaking his head.
Matthew glanced back towards the door to the small library. Mary peeked her head out slightly, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her laughter. Matthew rolled his eyes at her and walked briskly after the Earl. When the library was once again empty, Mary quickly left in the opposite direction, smiling to herself as she made her escape.
Crawley House, Downton Village, England, November 1912
"Your cufflinks, sir."
Matthew reached his hand towards the tray, but then paused. He turned back to the mirror.
"What would you recommend, Molesley?"
"Sir?"
Matthew's gaze remained on his own reflection as he adjusted his shirt sleeves. "The cufflinks. I can't decide what pair would work best. What would you recommend?"
"I…well, sir, with this suit I would think the pearl would work best. They're not as shiny as the silver or as much of a contrast as the gold."
"Very well, Molesley," Matthew said looking at his valet and nodding. "If you say so."
Molesley helped him with the cufflinks and stepped back, rather pleased with himself.
"Will that be all, sir?"
"Just one last thing, Molesley," Matthew said. "I have a rather delicate matter that I wished to speak to you about."
"A delicate matter, sir? It isn't about my performance is it? I can assure you that I am trying my utmost to…"
"No, no, it isn't that, Molesley," Matthew said calmly. "I realize it's taken some time for us, for me, to get used to this arrangement, but I think it's working out."
"Yes, sir," Molesley said in surprise. "It's going very well, if I may so, sir."
"Right. What I meant by delicate is that I need your help with a particular task and unfortunately I cannot give you many details on the matter. Only that I have a friend, more of an acquaintance actually, who requires my assistance, and discretion is of the utmost importance."
"Certainly, sir!" Molesley answered, straightening his back as if he were addressing an army general. "I can be counted on to be discrete, sir."
"Excellent, Molesley," Matthew said, trying to hide his laughter at his valet's behaviour. "Excellent. Now, I will need you to carry out a set of instructions that were provided to me by my friend. They must be followed to the letter. To carry out these instructions you will need to involve several people, all of whom must be sworn to secrecy. I don't even quite understand the instructions myself, but as I say, it's my acquaintance who has organized all of this. No one must know that either my friend or I is involved. Even Mother is not to be told what you are doing, and certainly none of the other servants, either here or at the Big House. If asked, you shall say that you are working on a personal matter as a favour for someone else, not for me. If anyone probes further, you shall tell them it is none of their business as to who you are assisting. If pressed, you shall say you are acting on behalf of a gentleman in London who guards his privacy very closely, and who you have never met yourself. That is all you shall know. The instructions are typewritten. You will have sufficient funds to carry out the instructions and time is of the essence."
"Consider it done, sir," Molesley answered with growing enthusiasm. "Might I ask who else shall be involved in this mission, sir?"
Matthew smiled. "Certainly, Molesley," he said, taking out two envelopes from a drawer and handing them to his valet. "As you can expect, your cohorts live here in the Village, hence the need for our involvement on behalf of my friend. You will also soon see why you are the ideal man for this assignment."
Molesley took the envelopes, swallowing nervously as he realized that one of them contained several crisp banknotes in varying denominations. He looked up at Matthew, who nodded to him. Molesley opened the second envelope and glanced at the list of instructions and the accompanying list of individuals and tasks. The valet frowned at first, then once he read over the materials, he looked back up at his master and smiled.
"Very well, sir. If that will be all, sir, I'll be on my way then."
"Yes, Molesley. Thank you."
Matthew watched Molesley go back downstairs. He looked out from his bedroom window as his valet marched deliberately from Crawley House towards the Village. Matthew shook his head in amusement. He was deathly afraid that Molesley would botch the whole thing, but he didn't have the luxury of involving anyone else in his grand plan.
"Servants," Matthew shook his head. "A man used to be able to carry out a scheme all by himself."
Downton Abbey, England, February 1913
"Really, Edith," Mary sighed. "Watching the door will not make them appear any faster."
Edith looked back at her sister with a calm expression. "I don't know what you are referring to."
"Oh please," Mary rolled her eyes. "You've been looking at the door so often that your soup has gone cold. Carson will bring the mail in when it's arrived, Edith. He always does."
"Mary," Sybil said from across the table. "Won't you leave Edith alone? It's entirely understandable that she would be looking forward to today. She just had her Season last summer and she's certain to receive something."
"Thank you, Sybil," Edith smiled brightly before glaring at her older sister. "I don't know why you're so calm, Mary. Shouldn't you be hoping for some deliveries of your own?"
Mary frowned. "A few anonymous cards are hardly anything to make a fuss over," she said indifferently, taking a rather large bite of her sandwich to quell the bile that was rising within her at her sister's veiled insult.
"Well of course she's going to receive something, Edith," Sybil said. "Even if it is anonymous, we all know who one of her Valentines will be from." Sybil paused before whispering to her sisters with a conspiratorial smile. "E.N.!"
Mary glanced quickly down the table to her Mama and Granny. They were deep in conversation and seemed to not have heard the sisters' discussion.
"Anything that I may receive in the post is no one's business but my own," Mary said stiffly. "Sybil, you don't have any suitors now, but you'll learn once you've had your Season that small little gestures like getting cards in the mail are hardly anything to get too excited over compared to…"
Mary was interrupted as Anna stepped into the dining room, drawing everyone's attention.
"Excuse me, Your Ladyship," Anna said politely. "Mr. Carson's asked me to bring in the mail for Lady Edith."
"Of course, Anna," Cora smiled, looking down the table at her daughters, then nodding to Anna. "Please."
Edith nearly clapped her hands in glee as Anna brought the silver tray forward holding three envelopes. Edith opened them happily and took her time in examining each card. One card had delicate lace trim around the edges. The second was on a thicker paper and was written in an elegant script. The third was one of the newer commercial cards that were offered beginning just this year. While Mary thought the first card was too traditional, the second card too simple and the third card simply tacky, Edith beamed at them as if they held the Commandments themselves.
"Edith, how lovely for you, dear," Violet smiled. "Any hints as to who they're from?"
"They're all anonymous of course, Granny," Edith answered. "I expect one of them is from Cousin Matthew, though."
"What?!" Mary shrieked. Her sisters, Mama, Granny and even Anna all stared at her outburst.
"What…makes you think that?" Mary said more calmly, swallowing as she could feel all eyes upon her.
"Well I can't be sure, but I wouldn't be surprised," Edith said nonchalantly, delighting in being the centre of attention. "He knows that I would at least consider his suit without insulting him." Edith looked pointedly at Mary and Mary's eyes narrowed.
"We've been talking, speaking before and after dinners," Edith continued in a casual tone. "I told him we could go and visit the churches in the area if he wanted to. He has an interest in architecture, you know."
Mary almost gnashed her teeth together. "Is that right?" she replied indifferently. "And what was Cousin Matthew's answer to this suggested excursion?"
"He thanked me for raising the idea, and he told me he would discuss it with Cousin Isobel to see if she would join us," Edith said smugly.
"That sounds lovely, dear," Cora commented.
Mary resumed eating. Her initial shock and anger at this possible date between Matthew and Edith vanished as she pictured Matthew bringing his Mother along as a chaperone. It was a clever stroke, she had to admit. He could try and put off Edith for a while, and if that didn't work, having Isobel with them would certainly ensure he wasn't put in any awkward situations. While Mary did not particularly like the increased conversations between Matthew and Edith at dinner, they were hardly the private talks that Edith was making them out to be. Truthfully, Mary knew that Matthew could not entirely ignore Edith, or any member of her family, whenever they were in the same room.
"Thank you, Anna," Cora called. "If that's all from the post, you can go."
"I'm terribly sorry that you didn't get anything, Mary," Edith smiled.
"Edith!" Sybil called. "Don't be so unkind! Mary has a suitor coming next month to visit her. She doesn't need Valentines."
"Well I'm just wondering why, if Mr. Napier is so interested in her, he hasn't bothered to send her a card or letter today. Besides, it's not just him, Sybil. For someone who was so popular during her Season, the lack of cards today must surely be a disappointment. Then again, I suppose her Season was a while ago."
"Edith!" Violet said. "Gloating is hardly ladylike behaviour."
Mary fumed and refused to give Edith the satisfaction of seeing the anger register on her face. She actually didn't care that she had not received any Valentines. No one had written to her Papa seeking permission to write to Mary since the Duke of Crowborough's horrid visit in April of last year, so it was hardly surprising. She had partly expected Evelyn to send something, but then again he was coming to Downton for the Hunt in less than a month's time so any further demonstrations of his feelings were unnecessary. As for Matthew, anything from him would fall under close scrutiny, even if it were sent anonymously, and so she knew he would hold back as well. She also didn't really care that Edith had received three Valentines, so long as one of them wasn't actually from Matthew, and Mary knew he wouldn't dare, if he valued his life.
A snide rejoinder was on the tip of Mary's tongue, waiting to be unleashed.
'Why would I need a blasted Valentine when I'm going to be Countess of Grantham? And I'll have you know that I've done more in one hour with Matthew in the small library than you'll achieve in a lifetime of church visits!'
She held back, barely. Now was certainly not the time. Still, seeing Edith get anything over on her, even as a result of a charade, was infuriating Mary. She contemplated swallowing the last of her sandwich in one rude gulp to extricate herself from the dining room as quickly as possible.
"Beg your pardon, Your Ladyship," Anna said, rousing Mary from her thoughts. "It's true that Lady Edith's three Valentines are all that's come, and that there's nothing in the post for Lady Mary. But the reason I delivered the mail instead of Mr. Carson was because he was indisposed."
"Indisposed?" Cora asked. "Indisposed with what?"
"With taking a special delivery, Your Ladyship."
"Special delivery?" Mary asked. "For who?"
"My Lady," Carson called as he entered the dining room. "This just arrived for you by special delivery."
All eyes flew to Carson.
Mary's mouth opened slightly as she stared.
Edith gasped, then covered her mouth to hide her reaction.
Sybil smiled brightly.
Violet raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
Cora's eyes widened in surprise.
Anna smiled demurely as she watched Mary's reaction.
Carson placed a lovely glass vase adorned with red, purple, and blue ribbons in front of Mary. The vase held a dozen gorgeous large red English roses arranged with smaller stems of Lilly-of-the-valley, baby's breath and greenery. The delicate scent wafted across the table.
"My goodness!" Sybil exclaimed. "Mr. Napier spares no expense."
"Apparently not," Violet agreed. "Those didn't come from any ordinary local florist. I have to admit they rival even the ones from my garden."
"You're right," Cora noted. "Besides yours, I've only seen roses that grand in the garden of Mr. Molesley Sr."
Mary blinked.
"Who delivered these, Carson?" Cora asked.
"A boy from the Village, Your Ladyship," Carson answered. "I asked him who hired him for the delivery and he said he didn't know."
"He didn't know?" Cora questioned. "Well, where did he pick up the flowers from?"
"He said from the Butchers, Your Ladyship," Carson replied.
"The Butchers?"
"Apparently he was instructed to pick up the arrangement from the Butchers, Your Ladyship."
"And did he know how they got to the Butchers, Carson?"
"Apparently another boy delivered them there right before he arrived, Your Ladyship."
"This all sounds rather mysterious," Violet chuckled.
"Mary, what's written on the card?" Sybil asked.
Mary took the envelope with her name typed across it from the arrangement. She took out the card and examined it. "It's typewritten, actually," Mary said shakily, her pulse still racing from receiving the flowers. "And it's unsigned."
"Most Valentines are," Cora smiled.
"That is true. However, it is curious that a suitor would not want to take credit for something so extravagant," Violet mused.
"So what does it say?" Sybil asked enthusiastically.
"Sybil!" Cora frowned.
"What? Such a romantic gesture should be accompanied by a lovely verse or two. Let's hear it."
"That's for Mary to read, not you."
"If the card is unsigned, then how do we know it's from Mr. Napier? They could be from anyone," Edith spat, glaring at the flowers as if hoping her stare could cause them to wilt prematurely.
Mary blinked again.
"Oh don't be silly, Edith," Cora said gently. "Who else could it be? Clearly Mr. Napier is making a grand gesture to Mary ahead of his arrival next month. Mary, dear, you should remember this when you see him. Don't be too obvious of course, but a polite thank you is appropriate."
"Yes," Mary replied, her eyes moving from the large roses to the red, purple and blue ribbons on the vase and back to the card. "I will need to thank my admirer properly for these beautiful roses."
"Anna, we're almost done here. Bring Lady Mary's roses to the library so she can enjoy them while she reads this afternoon, then change the water and take them upstairs to her bedroom before dinner," Cora instructed.
"Yes, Your Ladyship."
The Crystal Palace, London, England, April 1911
"And what is this?" Mary asked.
"I believe I am the one asking the questions, Lady Mary," Matthew smiled.
Mary smiled and looked away as a slight blush coloured her cheeks. She glanced up at the glass ceiling to try and distract herself. Why did he have to look at her like that? And why did it always have the same effect on her?
"We'll get back to the game shortly, Matthew. I'm curious about this sculpture."
Matthew looked at it briefly before smiling as he recognized the piece.
"This is the entrance to the Renaissance Court," he said confidently. "And that is the Nymph of Fontainebleau by Cellini, or at least a reasonable version of the original sculpture. It's considered an ode to feminine beauty from that period."
Mary blushed again and looked away from the naked female form sculpted above the doorway as they went through.
"Now, back to my questions," Matthew said, as they continued their stroll. "How many more do I have?"
"Seven, I believe," Mary said thoughtfully, pausing as several children walked past them.
"All right, seven questions. Favourite colour?"
"Matthew, once again, you're not doing this right," Mary said gently. "You're supposed to be asking me twenty questions that have a simple yes or no answer, and the questions must all be related. You're supposed to be finding clues to the final answer, not asking twenty individual questions about me."
"Fine. Yes or no. Is your favourite colour green?"
"No. Matthew, are you going to play this game properly or are you going to use your remaining questions to try and find out my favourite colour?" His interest in her preferences made Mary smile.
"Why not?" he smiled back. "There can't be that many possible colours that you prefer."
"If you must know, I tend to favour red, purple and blue. I rather like darker shades. Yellow or orange always seemed too garish to me."
"Red, purple and blue," Matthew repeated. "There, see? I'm learning more about you already. What about your favourite author?"
"You'll expect me to say Austen, I'm sure. But recently, I've been reading Oscar Wilde."
"Really?" Matthew exclaimed in surprise. "I wouldn't expect that from an Earl's daughter."
"Oh, I rather enjoy being unpredictable, Matthew," Mary smiled. "What about you? Do you have time for reading beyond legal texts and journals?"
"I try and make the time," Matthew answered, taking her teasing in stride. "I'm afraid my interests are more classical, however. Sophocles, Euripides, Homer, Shakespeare, Marlowe, that sort of thing."
"My Governess would have been impressed with you," Mary laughed. "Greek mythology, Matthew? I've never spent much time on it. The tales always seemed rather boring, actually."
"Perhaps I could read to you sometime?" Matthew suggested playfully. "Maybe I'll be able to hold your interest?"
Mary looked at his confident stare. Rather than blush and look away, she eyed him mischievously.
"Maybe you will," she said quietly.
Downton Abbey, England, February 1913
After she finished her lunch, Mary excused herself. She ignored Edith making a show of re-reading her Valentines yet again and went to the library. Mary scanned the shelves purposefully before finding the tome she was looking for. She sat down on the settee and admired her roses sitting on the table. Smiling, Mary read her Valentine's card, then opened the book and flipped to the precise page she was seeking. She glanced at the typewritten message again.
"O dear Lady Mary, I am ill at these numbers. – Act II, Scene ii, lines 116-124."
Scanning the page of the book, Mary found the corresponding passage. Her smile grew wider. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop the fit of giggles that were threatening to erupt from her chest.
"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love…I have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore dear lady, whilst this machine is to him."
"Mary?"
"Sybil!" Mary looked up and hid the card underneath the book as her youngest sister came into the room.
"What are you reading?"
"Hamlet," Mary smiled.
"Oh. That's a rather tragic story to be reading on Valentine's Day."
"I suppose," Mary agreed. "But I'm finding there are some nice parts to it as well."
"These flowers are so lovely," Sybil sighed, sitting down on the opposite sofa and looking at Mary's roses.
"They certainly are. They must have taken weeks to grow."
"So this was all planned far in advance?" Sybil asked.
"I couldn't tell you, but it seems a great deal of effort was put into it," Mary answered happily.
"Do you think that Mr. Napier expects a lot from you, Mary? What I mean to say is, when a man makes such an obvious gesture, is he expecting something equally grand in return?"
"Mr. Napier's intentions may be plain," Mary replied slowly. "But as for his expectations of me, I don't think that's very important. What counts is what my intentions are."
"And what are your intentions?" Sybil asked innocently. "Are you going to marry him?"
"Sybil!"
"Well not just because he sent you flowers, of course! I'm just wondering what you would look for in a husband, what you think you should consider."
Mary looked at Sybil with patient understanding. "Darling, yes, you shouldn't marry a man simply because he sends you flowers. It's far more complicated than that, and far too long a discussion for me to have with you now," she said. "Although, I think it's fair to say that I would be a fool to not seriously consider marrying the man who sent me these beautiful roses, knowing him as I believe I do."
Sybil grinned at her sister and Mary smiled back, pleased with herself at such a mischievous turn of phrase. Mary looked back at her book and reread the passage, thinking of precisely how she would properly thank her admirer at her next opportunity.
Crawley House, Downton Village, England, September 1912
"You can take the horses for a trot nearby, if you like, Lynch. I expect to be a while with my new cousins. I'll come back out when I'm ready to leave," Mary said firmly.
Lynch hesitated, before a raised eyebrow from Lady Mary convinced him there was no room for argument. He nodded and took Diamond by the reins, escorting both horses down the path.
Mary walked towards the door, her spirits rising with each step and her pulse quickening. She wet her lips before knocking firmly.
The door swung open and Mary stared, unable to speak or move for what seemed like minutes.
"Hello," a familiar voice greeted her, as blue eyes and curved lips grabbed her attention.
"Hello. I'm looking for Matthew Crawley," she stated with a raised eyebrow.
"And you have found him," he smiled. "And you are?"
"Lady Mary!" came an anxious voice from down the hall. Matthew sighed and stepped aside as Molesley came forward.
"Lady Mary, I apologize. I was upstairs attending to Mr. Crawley's luggage and I didn't hear the door." Molesley's eyes went wide as he realized that Matthew had answered the door himself. "Mr. Crawley! Sir, I am sorry that I didn't answer the door. I was upstairs, you see, and…"
"It's all right, Molesley," Matthew held up his hands. "I am perfectly capable of answering the door to my own home."
"That doesn't mean you should," Mary said. She turned to Molesley. "Mr. Crawley and I will take tea in the sitting room."
"Of course! Of course, Lady Mary! Right away!"
Molesley held the door and Matthew awkwardly stood by as Mary walked past both of them and into the sitting room. She smiled to herself as she removed her riding gloves and took a seat.
Matthew came into the room and moved towards the seat next to hers. Mary raised her eyebrow at him.
"Perhaps you would be more comfortable sitting across from me, Cousin Matthew," Mary smirked.
"What? Oh, of course you're right, Cousin Mary," Matthew mumbled, taking the seat further away from her.
Molesley came in with tea and biscuits and served both of them. Matthew sipped his tea thoughtfully as he looked at Mary.
"Thank you, Molesley," Mary said smoothly. "That will be all. I have a great deal to discuss with Mr. Crawley before dinner this evening at Downton Abbey. Please make sure his white tie and tails are pressed and ready for him later, and please inform the other servants that we aren't to be disturbed."
"Yes, my Lady," Molesley bowed deeply and left the room.
"Is your mother home? I would invite her to join us," Mary asked.
"No. Mother is walking around the Village for the afternoon, I believe. She mentioned something about going to see the Cottage Hospital."
"So it's just the two of us, then?" Mary said idly as she sipped her tea.
"It would appear that way, yes," Matthew said, taking another sip from his own cup.
Mary put her tea cup down. "Would you like a tour?"
"Pardon?"
"Crawley House. It's been in my family for generations. I used to come here as a child rather often. I can show you around, explain to you how things are done around here."
"I would appreciate that very much, Lady Mary, thank you."
"Let's start with the downstairs study. It should be just down the hall I believe."
Matthew followed her down the hall and into a study at the back of the house. The drapes were drawn and the desk and shelves were immaculately clean.
Matthew closed the door and turned towards her. Mary approached him with a sly grin. Matthew grabbed her and pulled her to him. They kissed soundly. Matthew tried to stay quiet as he groaned and held her in his arms.
"Mary," he gasped. "I can't believe you're here. Even when I received your letter after hearing from your father, I couldn't dare to hope."
He kissed her again.
"Matthew, darling," Mary sighed happily. "It's true. I'm here. We're together." She laughed quietly as they kissed again.
"You can't kiss me, or hold me, or look at me adoringly when we see each other tonight. My Mama only sent me here to welcome you and invite you and your mother to dine with us at eight."
"It will be torture," Matthew said. "I recall what your letter said about acting indifferently towards each other. Although I confess I don't necessarily understand all of it."
"I'll explain later. For tonight, please act as if we've just met," Mary pleaded.
"That's easy enough," Matthew grinned, pulling her closer. "I'm having many of the same thoughts now as I did when we first met."
"Matthew! I meant act as if we've just met and you think me ordinary." She became distracted by his lips on her neck.
"That may prove rather impossible, darling," Matthew murmured as he continued to kiss her. "Even on first glance, it's clear you are far from ordinary."
"Heavens!" Mary teased. "It appears I have an admirer," she smiled as she turned her head to allow him to kiss behind her ear.
"Undoubtedly," Matthew whispered. "An admirer with very serious intentions, Lady Mary."
"Then I shall need to give serious consideration to his offer," she said seductively.
"Please do," Matthew sighed. "Mary, it is going to be extremely difficult for me to be so close to you and not act…improperly."
"Well, you'll just have to distract yourself," Mary replied, relaxing in his embrace. "Focus on Edith. Any thoughts of desire or impropriety will be quickly forgotten when you look at her."
"I see things have not changed at all between you and Edith," Matthew smiled. "Now, more importantly, you were saying something about being sent here to welcome me? I must admit I have never had such an alluring reception committee."
Mary laughed as he leaned into her and they kissed once more. She was ecstatic that he was here, and her mind filled with all that lay before them. So long as they could follow her plan, she would soon have everything she could ever want.
Downton Abbey, England, February 1913
"Cousin Matthew!"
"Sybil!" Matthew blinked, looking around the room as he entered the library. "How are you?" he said, still glancing about.
"Very well, thank you," Sybil smiled. "Were you looking for Papa?"
"Erm…yes, yes I was looking for your father."
"He's gone to the Village. Meeting with some tenants, I think. Carson must have mentioned it when you arrived?"
"Yes, that's right, he did say that. I meant that I came here looking for your father, and Carson said he wasn't here, so I decided to come into the library and read for a bit until dinner."
"Won't you need to go back to Crawley House and change?" Sybil asked.
"Yes," Matthew nodded slowly. "Yes, I will need to do that. Office attire isn't appropriate for dinner."
"Well, feel free to sit until then," Sybil smiled, going back to her book.
Matthew looked around nervously, then blindly took a book from the shelf and sat down on the settee across the table from Sybil. Looking around again, Matthew opened the book and began to read.
"Austen," he grumbled, staring at the book cover for the first time.
"Pardon, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil looked up.
"Nothing, Sybil," Matthew answered. "I was just…erm…thinking out loud."
"Mary! Cousin Matthew is here," Sybil said cheerfully, looking past Matthew.
"So he is," Mary answered, looking at the two of them smugly. She walked into the library, a book in hand, and took a seat on the sofa next to her sister.
"Cousin Mary."
"Cousin Matthew," she replied, opening her book.
Sybil went back to reading. Mary looked up from her book and glanced at Matthew. She smirked and raised her eyebrow as she saw his book. Matthew rolled his eyes at her, then nodded pointedly in Sybil's direction as he looked at Mary imploringly.
Mary gave him an innocent look of confusion.
Matthew's eyes widened pleadingly.
Mary smiled.
"Sybil, darling," Mary said sweetly. "Could you go and tell Mama and Mrs. Hughes that Cousin Matthew will be joining us for dinner? They may not have been told before Papa left for the Village."
"Oh, right! I'm sorry, Cousin Matthew. I should have thought to do that when you arrived. If you'll excuse me, both of you."
"No apology necessary, Sybil. I should have mentioned it to Carson myself."
Sybil put her book down and got up from the sofa, walking quickly out to the Great Hall in search of Cora.
Matthew moved to put his book down on the table. He quickly snapped it back in front of him as Anna entered the library.
"Milady, Mr. Crawley," she nodded.
"Come in, Anna," Mary called, smiling as Anna carried Mary's roses into the library and placed them on the table.
"Here you are, Milady. I just changed the water."
"Those flowers are spectacular," Matthew smiled.
"They are rather nice," Mary replied calmly, smirking as Matthew frowned slightly at her. "Anna, you can bring them up to my bedroom when it's time for me to change for dinner."
"Yes, Milady. Mr. Crawley," Anna curtsied.
"Anna," Matthew nodded.
When Anna left the room, Matthew put his book down again, glancing about to make sure no one else was coming. He waited for Mary to put her book down as well so they could move to the small library. She made no attempt to do so and kept reading.
"Cousin Mary," Matthew said quietly.
"Yes, Cousin Matthew?" Mary answered, not looking up from her book.
"I'm looking for a particular book that I saw last week in the small library. Will you assist me in looking for it?" he asked with a frown.
"I'm quite comfortable here, but feel free to use the small library if you wish," Mary said, barely suppressing her grin as she stared intently at her book.
"Well I'm not entirely familiar with the small library so your assistance would be greatly appreciated," Matthew said in frustration.
Mary looked up at Matthew with a teasing smile. She closed her book and put it down.
"Certainly, Cousin Matthew. I believe I can help you find just what you're looking for."
Matthew grinned. He moved to rise from the sofa when suddenly they heard footsteps approaching. Mary and Matthew looked at each other with wide eyes. They each grabbed their books and sat back down quickly.
"It's all taken care of, Cousin Matthew," Sybil said pleasantly as she bounded back into the room and took her seat on the sofa next to Mary. She picked up her book once again.
"Thank you, Sybil," Matthew said through gritted teeth. Mary almost laughed as she watched him struggle to control himself.
Sybil resumed reading. After several moments, Matthew looked beyond his book and caught Mary's amused gaze looking back at him.
Matthew looked at Mary and nodded his head, first towards Sybil, then towards the small library, his face furious now.
Mary shook her head slightly at him and shrugged her shoulders.
Matthew rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Something wrong, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil asked as she looked up at the sound of his sharp breath.
"I'm afraid that I'm finding this book rather frustrating," Matthew said coldly.
"Well feel free to try another, Cousin Matthew," Mary said flippantly, turning the page of her book.
"That's a wonderful suggestion, Cousin Mary, thank you," Matthew replied.
He waited for Sybil to go back to her reading. He closed his book, rose from the sofa and walked towards the shelves. After several minutes, he smiled to himself as he found the book he was looking for.
Matthew turned and went back to the settee. As he walked past the sofa, he deliberately trailed his fingers along the edge of the armrest. With Mary's body blocking Sybil's view, Matthew ran his hand lightly across Mary's shoulder, then along her bare arm.
Mary shivered at the feel of his fingers on her skin.
"Mary? Are you all right?" Sybil looked up as she heard Mary gasp.
Matthew had already sat down on the settee and opened his book. He looked over at her with exaggerated concern.
"I'm all right, darling," Mary said to Sybil. "This story I'm reading is becoming rather intriguing."
"Really? And what are you reading, Cousin Mary?" Matthew asked.
"An Ideal Husband," Mary said pointedly. "I'm reading the scene where Lady Chiltern discovers that Sir Robert can be, like many men, rather annoying."
"That does sound intriguing," Sybil agreed. She then looked away from both Mary and Matthew and resumed her reading.
Mary glared fiercely at Matthew. Matthew returned her stare. He nodded again in Sybil's direction and more forcefully in the direction of the small library, begging Mary with his eyes to do something. Mary frowned and her eyes narrowed at him.
"Did you find better reading, Cousin Matthew?" Sybil asked.
"I did, Sybil, thank you," Matthew answered with a smile. "I decided to have another go at Hamlet."
Mary looked at him and her stern gaze softened.
"What a coincidence!" Sybil exclaimed. "Mary was just reading that on Valentine's Day."
Matthew blinked and stared at Mary.
Mary smiled at him, using her book to shield her face from Sybil.
"You read Hamlet on Valentine's Day," he repeated, smirking at her.
"Yes," she smiled back at him. "I never realized how some passages from it could be so utterly beautiful."
"Isn't my sister bewildering sometimes?" Sybil laughed, looking back at her book. "Reading a tragedy on Valentine's Day! Goodness."
Matthew looked over at Sybil, then looked back at Mary. He swallowed, then smirked as he looked at her with an earnest expression that made her blush.
"Were you surprised? By the flowers?" Matthew asked.
"Yes, I was," Mary replied quietly, glancing at Sybil and noticing she was still reading her book and not looking at them. "They're gorgeous," Mary grinned. "It's a shame that my admirer did not sign the card. Now I don't know who I need to thank."
"Oh, Mary, you know who they're from! And you can thank him properly when he arrives next month," Sybil chastised, looking at her, then smiling before going back to her reading.
Matthew's eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to reply, then stopped and composed himself.
"Well, be that as it may…if you were to come face-to-face with this admirer, how exactly would you thank him for such a lovely gesture?"
Mary blinked, looking at Matthew's confident smirk and teasing gaze. She had assumed he would be livid at the reference to Evelyn. She looked down at her hands and smiled.
"Well I believe that is a personal matter between my admirer and me, Cousin Matthew," Mary said with feigned haughtiness.
"I'm simply curious, Cousin Mary," Matthew said with great effort. "Be as revealing or as vague as you wish. I do not mean to pry."
Matthew raised his eyebrows mischievously to her and Mary blushed at his cheek. He was being rather bold speaking to her in such a manner with Sybil sitting beside her.
"Very well. Without getting into precise detail, once I learned the identity of my admirer, I would give him a polite thank you for the lovely roses. They appear to be a rather special breed. I suspect it may have taken weeks to grow them."
"Months perhaps," Matthew said, meeting her gaze. "There may only be one person in all of Downton Village capable of growing such flowers, and arrangements would have had to been made back in late autumn to ensure they were in bloom in time for Valentine's Day. Or so I would think."
Mary smiled at him.
"Such an effort is certainly deserving of gratitude," Mary agreed. "Once appropriate appreciation had been given, I would need to determine my admirer's intentions of course."
"I would think his intentions would be rather obvious," Matthew answered.
"Oh I don't know," Mary looked away. "Suitors can be fickle, Cousin Matthew. They may write all manner of lovely prose, smile and cajole you with their attentions, even pay you a visit and whisper to you in private. Then, come the morning, when they are bored or realize that your settlement isn't as large as they suspected, they disappear, never to be seen again."
Matthew frowned. He was about to ask Mary what in heaven's name she was talking about when he noticed she was looking down at her hands, her brow slightly creased, as if she were trying to forget a painful memory.
"Well that sounds rather horrible," Sybil interjected. "But surely whoever sent you these flowers is not a man of such ill manners."
"I would think not, Sybil," Mary answered, looking over at her youngest sister. "But one can never be too careful about the true thoughts of a man, isn't that right, Cousin Matthew?" she asked looking at him pointedly.
"Cousin Mary," Matthew said softly. "I know nothing of the ways of suitors. I have only been part of Society for a mere six months."
Mary nodded and smiled at him.
"However, let me assure you of two things if I may – first, the man who sent you those roses, and who wrote the Valentine that must have accompanied them, the man who went to the effort to try and give you a meaningful gesture of his feelings for you on Valentine's Day, that man must surely have good intentions. You see, he wouldn't know how many other Valentines you would receive. He wouldn't know how many other suitors he may be competing with for your regard. And more importantly, he wouldn't, couldn't know whether upon learning his identity you would be touched by his effort, or disappointed in seeing his true face. So, it seems to me that he bravely made this attempt in the hope that it would at least hold your interest, and cause you to pay attention to him, if only for a brief while."
Mary blinked.
"That sounds far more chivalrous and romantic," Sybil said gleefully.
"Cousin Matthew," Mary said softly. "I certainly hope what you say is true, for it would mean that my admirer is as fine a prize as these lovely flowers."
Matthew smiled.
"And the second thing that you spoke of?" Mary asked.
"Right. Well, it's only my opinion of course, but any suitor who would approach a lady with less honourable intentions is hardly worthy of anyone's time. I would even go so far to say such a scoundrel who would leave a lady abandoned in such a manner is too daft to realize the true prize he is forsaking."
"That's almost poetic, Cousin Matthew," Sybil smiled.
"Yes, well, Mother always told me to treat ladies with respect," Matthew smiled sheepishly.
"Beg your pardon, my ladies, Mr. Crawley."
"Yes, Carson," Mary called, shaken from her own thoughts as she contemplated Matthew's words.
"The dressing gong will be ringing shortly. I would ask if Mr. Crawley would want us to send a footman for his dinner attire so he can change here."
"No, thank you, Carson," Matthew replied, rising from the settee. "I'll just run home and change."
"Very well, sir," Carson nodded, waiting at the doorway to escort him out.
With both Sybil and Carson staring at him, Matthew realized he was now forced to leave.
"Until dinner then," he said with forced enthusiasm. "Cousin Sybil," he nodded.
"I'll see you shortly, Cousin Matthew," Sybil smiled back at him.
Matthew looked at Mary. She rose from the sofa, then stood still as she stopped herself from stepping towards him. They locked eyes briefly.
"Cousin Mary," Matthew nodded.
"Cousin Matthew," Mary replied quietly. "I…we shall see you at dinner."
Matthew nodded to her, then followed Carson out of the library.
Mary looked to the window and watched Matthew walk down the driveway and into the distance.