Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, March 1913
"The weather has lifted, and our guests have departed. I was going to take Isis for a walk. Would you like to join me? We can spend some time before luncheon."
"Thank you, Cousin Robert, that is very kind. I'm afraid that I should be getting back home. There's some matters I need to attend to today."
"Oh, very well. Can we count on seeing you and Isobel at dinner this evening?"
"I'll pass along word to Mother. As for me, I have a rather busy day at work tomorrow so I expect I'll spend the evening at Crawley House. Good day, Cousin Robert."
Mary watched as Matthew nodded to her Papa and left, walking determinedly out the door, down the driveway and out of sight.
Chapter 8:
Hyde Park, London, England, August 1911
"Please, Mary," Matthew groaned against her ear. "Please."
Mary smiled, shivering as she felt his breath against her cheek and his hand ghost across her thigh.
"I'd rather not," she answered, turning so their lips were almost touching and their eyes locked on each other. "You may not find what I have to say particularly pleasing."
"Darling," Matthew said softly. "I find everything about you particularly pleasing. Won't you enlighten me? I always enjoy hearing what's on your mind. You know that."
Mary sighed and pulled back slightly. "Ladies are not supposed to speak out of turn, Matthew."
"Well then you are fortunate indeed. It is your turn, for I have ceded the podium to you and wait with great interest for you to begin your rebuttal."
Mary looked away from him and out across the park. The secluded bench gave them a lovely view of the vast green, with the Weeping Beech in the distance. They were left remarkably alone in this small corner, as if they were invisible and merely observing the goings on of the world around them.
Mary carefully gave her argument against what they had just heard at Speakers' Corner. As she dissected the socialist commentary of the speaker, Matthew smiled. She became more confident and animated as she spoke, and she raised her eyebrow to him when she finished, daring him to find a flaw in her dissertation.
"I am convinced," Matthew said pleasantly. "The speaker was lucky you did not feel the need to interject."
"Or heckle," Mary said with a laugh.
"Come, Lady Mary," Matthew said, rising and reaching for her hand. "We need to get walking if I'm to bring you back home in time for the dinner gong."
Mary rose from the bench and kissed him quickly. They walked through Hyde Park and back down the long street towards Grantham House. Matthew savoured the sun all around them. Mary looked at the ground. They came to their usual parting spot in Green Park and Matthew pulled her close to him, kissing her soundly. Mary gripped the lapels of his jacket, seizing his lips rather fiercely with her own.
Matthew grinned at her when they pulled apart. He loved it when she was eager.
"When can you get away tomorrow? I know a small theatre company that is putting on a production of Much Ado About Nothing and I thought we could see it. There should be a decent crowd so we won't be noticed."
Mary looked down. "That does sound lovely, Matthew," she said quietly. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to see you tomorrow."
"Oh. Well, that's all right. What about the day after?"
Mary shook her head, swallowing as she grew more nervous. "No, I can't. You see, we're leaving the City tomorrow morning. We're going back to Downton."
"Tomorrow?" Matthew's eyes widened. "Your family is closing Grantham House?"
"Yes," Mary said, averting her eyes. "My Season is done, and Papa wants to go home."
"I see," Matthew said quietly, looking away. "Your parents will undoubtedly have decisions to make on the suitors you've met this Summer."
"Yes." Mary could say nothing more.
"Well, this is goodbye, then," he said.
"Matthew…" she looked up at him.
"No," he whispered, meeting her eyes. "It's all right, Mary. We knew we didn't have much time. This entire Summer was stolen, wasn't it? But, we made the most of it, didn't we?"
"Yes, we did," Mary answered, bitter tears coming to her eyes.
Matthew smiled wanly, running his hand along her cheek. "It will be all right," he said gamely. "They'll match you up with a perfect nobleman and your future will be secure. You'll have the life that you deserve, Mary. I'm glad for it, truly. God knows I wish the best for you."
Mary blinked, her tears falling. "And you'll do well, Matthew. You'll go back to Manchester and find a wonderful girl; someone who can…properly run a house, and…entertain your clients and support you…someone who will make you happy."
"No," Matthew shook his head. "I may find someone, eventually. She won't…she won't be you though, so she won't make me happy, not truly happy anyway. I'm afraid no one else could do that."
"Please don't say that," Mary pleaded.
"It's true, my darling," Matthew smiled sadly. "I don't wish for your pity, or your guilt. But I'll never be this happy with anyone else, not as long as I know you walk the Earth. I love you, Mary. I know this sounds juvenile, but I always will, and I can't imagine loving anyone else the same way."
"Matthew, you deserve so much more than I can give you. You need to forget me. You need to…"
"Shh," Matthew implored, taking her face in his hands. "We're a dream, Mary, you and I. A fantastic, absurd, impossible, wonderful dream. I thought our dream was over in the Spring. But we had this Summer together. And even though our dream is ending now, that doesn't mean it wasn't right to dream in the first place. I could never forget you. I never would want to forget you."
Mary kissed him again, crying as she berated herself for being unable to express in words what he deserved to hear.
Matthew handed her his handkerchief and she wiped her eyes.
"Matthew, you must know that I…I will always…" she stammered, her mind failing her. Propriety, wit, even charm could not help her now.
"Goodbye, Mary," Matthew said quietly. "Let's be brave. You need to go now. They're expecting you."
Mary stared at him, then turned and walked back toward Grantham House. Matthew followed behind her. She knew he always saw her home safely, and even though they could not look at each other or talk to each other every time she walked the remaining steps to Grantham House, she was glad for his presence and the safety he provided. She now desperately stopped herself from looking back as she climbed the steps to the front door. Her face was covered in its familiar expressionless mask by the time Carson opened the door to let her in.
Matthew did not break stride as he walked past, seeing her enter the home and the door close behind her. He stared at the ground with unfocused eyes all the way back to his hotel.
Office of the Law Firm of Harvell, Carter & Lewis, Ripon, England, April 1913
"Mr. Lewis is here, Mr. Crawley."
"Thank you, Michelle," Matthew said, rising from his desk and greeting his friend.
"Alex. We weren't expecting you. You must have taken the first morning train. What brings you here?"
Alex shook Matthew's hand and sat down in a chair as Matthew went back to his desk.
"Matthew, you do realize that it's rather strange to question why your employer would attend at his own office?"
Matthew shook his head. "Of course you're welcome here always. I was just wondering what required you to come here from London so early. I'm not aware of any pressing cases that require your attention at this office."
"Actually, there is a particular matter that I need to deal with here."
"Truly? Is it urgent?"
"That depends."
"Depends on?"
"On why exactly you have been sequestering yourself here for the past month." Alex looked at Matthew inquisitively.
Matthew's face fell. "I don't know what you…"
"Before you provide an excuse," Alex raised his hand. "I am told that since March you have been at the office before anyone else arrives and have worked late every day, including weekends. While that type of dedication is certainly appreciated, I am also aware that there is nothing substantially pressing in your case load that requires you to spend such a large amount of your time here. I asked Carter about the state of your files and he tells me that you've managed to get rather far ahead in a number of matters. So, it appears that you are working tirelessly on cases that do not in fact require your immediate attention. My question is why?"
Matthew looked away. "I expected that you would welcome my initiative."
"I am certainly pleased with the extra income that your increased billings will bring me, yes," Alex smiled. "But I cannot help but wonder if the reason you are in the office so much is because you are trying to avoid going home, or rather, going to your other home."
Matthew's eyes widened. He looked away again.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with the visit of the Honourable Evelyn Napier, heir to Viscount Branksome, during the Hunt last month, would it?"
"Not exactly," Matthew mumbled. "Nothing to do with Napier anyway."
"Ah, so Lady Mary has thrown him over, has she?"
"Well they were never actually together, so I suppose he got the hint that she wasn't interested."
"You spent a great deal of time being jealous of a man who had no chance then, apparently."
Matthew looked up at Alex and frowned. He fell silent.
"Michelle," Alex called. The receptionist arrived quickly.
"Tea, please. My usual blend. Thank you."
"Certainly, Mr. Lewis," she left to arrange it.
Matthew looked at Alex in confusion.
"You know that I like to take tea when contemplating interesting problems. And since neither one of us is leaving this office until you tell me exactly what is bothering you, I think some refreshment is called for."
Alex steepled his fingers in front of him and looked at Matthew with a calm expression.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Alex always steepled his fingers when he was about to make a rather convincing argument in Court, or when he was listening to a client drone on about their problems.
"We may as well wait for your tea to arrive," Matthew grumbled.
Downton Abbey, England, March 1913
"Cousin Isobel," Mary said, coming over to greet her as she came into the Great Hall.
"Ah, Mary, lovely to see you, dear," Isobel smiled. "I trust I am not holding everyone up?"
"No, of course not," Mary said distractedly. "Mama will be coming down shortly and we'll have drinks in the parlour."
Mary watched as Carson walked away with Isobel's coat.
Isobel watched as Mary stared past her and at the door.
"Oh, I'm afraid it's only me, tonight," Isobel said cheerfully.
"Cousin Matthew did not come with you?" Mary asked cautiously. "We haven't seen him for some time now."
"Yes, it's been almost two weeks, I think," Isobel frowned. "I've barely seen him myself, actually. He leaves early in the morning before I wake and he comes home rather late in the evening, sometimes after I've already retired. I asked him why he was spending so much time at the office and he said that a great matter was keeping him busy. I think I've had dinner with him twice in the last two weeks."
"I see," Mary nodded, processing this new information.
"If he had anything important to discuss with your father, then I'm sure he would come to the house. He's not one to visit without first having a reason, you know," Isobel continued.
"No, certainly not," Mary agreed in a monotone voice.
"Besides," Isobel lowered her voice. "It's probably best. I wouldn't want him to antagonize you. Things have improved since our arrival last year, and I'd rather everything be civil between you and Matthew, Mary. Coming up here so often would probably be pushing our luck a bit!" Isobel smiled and laughed.
Mary gave her a false smile in return.
"Cousin Isobel."
"Cousin Cora, lovely to see you."
Cora came down the stairs with Edith and Sybil. They all greeted Isobel and went through to the parlour. Mary trailed behind. She turned and looked back to the door, the blackness of night visible through the windows. She sighed as she took one last glance, seeking a sign of someone who was not there.
The Crystal Palace Park, London, England, March 1911
"I'm sorry, Lady Mary, I must be boring you."
"Please, Matthew, I told you to call me Mary," she smiled. "And I'm not bored at all. I think it's sweet that your parents met while working at the same hospital. It's a rather efficient form of matchmaking." She laughed.
Matthew smiled at her then looked away. He found himself growing more comfortable with her the more time they spent together. At first he thought she was humouring him by inviting him to walk out with her during their lunch break. However, now that they'd walked out each day for a week now, he could not help but think they were almost becoming friends.
"What about your parents?" he asked. "There must be some grand romantic tale of their betrothal?"
Mary smirked. "Yes, very romantic," she said. "Papa went to America looking for a wife with a large dowry. He found Mama and had her sign a marriage contract before they were engaged. When my Grandfather died, they became Earl and Countess of Grantham and here we are."
Matthew blinked in surprise.
"That does sound romantic…" he choked out.
Mary laughed. "It's all right, Matthew. My parents' type of marriage was very common among Society decades ago. It still is, actually."
"Really? I meant…I'm sorry, I don't have much experience with the ways of Society, I'm afraid. Are you expected to have a similar marriage arrangement?"
Mary looked at him, studying his face for some sign of jest or mockery. She found none. Matthew Crawley was intriguing her by the day. He seemed genuinely interested in her life, which was rare for any man she knew, of any class.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I? That's how things are done among my class of people," Mary said proudly. "My debut Season is this Summer. It's very exciting actually, spending the Summer in London, meeting the Royal Family, and receiving invitations from suitors. I've been planning for it for a while now. It will be good to have it finally arrive."
"Yes," Matthew agreed, feeling a strange apprehension at the thought of Mary being paraded around and brokered into an arranged marriage.
"I can see how you would be eager for your Season to arrive."
Downton Abbey, England, April 1913
Mary looked out the window. The grass was green and the cloudless sky was blue. A lovely day. A perfect day for a walk. If only she had someone to walk out with.
Three weeks had now passed since the Hunt and Matthew had not been up to the house once. Mary had surreptitiously asked Carson, Anna and Bates if Cousin Matthew had been by to see Papa, and they all replied that he had not. She waited in the small library, in their small library, on most days at the usual appointed hour for their secret meetings, and he had not shown. There had been no word, no messages, no notes, no letters from him, no appearances at dinner or even luncheon on the weekends. He even attended a separate Church service, Isobel saying that he was so busy at work that he had been going to service in Ripon instead.
"Milady," Anna said as she handed the tea cup to Mary.
"Thank you, Anna," Mary said blankly as she took the tea. She tried to listen to her Granny and Mama discuss something but she could not focus on the conversation.
She hated remembering the last moments she had seen Matthew. His eyes were cold, his face clouded in anger, glaring at her. She had not heard his conversation with Kemal Pamuk in the Great Hall, but she could see that the talk had not been pleasant, nor harmless. Matthew's posture was rigid, his fists clenched in rage. Did that blasted Turkish diplomat have the gall to tell Matthew he had been in Mary's bedroom? Impossible. Pamuk would not have known about her relationship with Matthew and surely would not have wanted to share any details about his failed attempt to violate her.
Mary shivered, partly from the memory of Pamuk in her room, but mostly from not knowing why Matthew had broken off all contact.
"Granny, how are your flowers?" Edith asked.
"Surprisingly resilient," Violet replied. "The winter was not as harsh as expected so I feel as if they're already weeks ahead of where they would normally be."
"It has been a strange winter," Sybil replied. "Unseasonably warm."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Edith said. "The less we hear Papa complain about another pipe bursting or the pond freezing over or a horse catching frostbite, the better."
"Edith!" Cora frowned.
"I'm sorry, Mama, but it's true," Edith shrugged her shoulders.
"Was there any other damage from that terrible storm we had weeks ago?" Violet asked.
"Nothing significant," Cora answered. "Except for your vase of course. I am very sorry about that."
"Oh don't be, don't be! It was a wedding present from a frightful aunt. I have hated it for half a century! The damn thing was almost as tall as I am," Violet said firmly, then smiled to herself.
Sybil laughed. "Well then you have the thunderstorm to thank for your loss, Granny."
"Indeed," Violet chuckled. "It is curious though. That vase has survived being dropped down the stairs, tipped over and all manner of shakes, bumps, jostles and clumsy servants. Strange that a loud crash of thunder should be its undoing."
Mary shook herself as comprehension began to stir inside of her. She looked at her Granny with sudden interest.
"Up until that night, I thought the ugly thing near indestructible," Violet laughed. "A man would need to lift it up and throw it down to smash it to that many pieces. Who knew that all it would take was some inclement weather?"
Mary frowned as she took another sip of her tea. She was not sure what was stronger – her incredulity over the scenario developing in her mind, or her fear that she may be right.
Home of Isobel Crawley, Manchester, England, May 1911
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Crawley."
"Alex! How wonderful! Do come in!"
Alex nodded and entered the home, following Isobel through to the sitting room.
"I'll go and fetch Matthew for you. He's just in the study. Shall I send tea through as well?"
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Crawley. Tea would be perfect, if it isn't too much trouble."
"Of course not, Alex! I'll speak to you before you leave."
Matthew came through shortly afterward. He shook hands with his friend. Tea and scones were soon brought for them.
"How was the rest of your stay in London, Matthew? I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to visit. I was quite busy at the gala. I barely had time to speak to Sir Campbell even."
"Of course. My month in London was quite enjoyable, actually, on the whole," Matthew answered. "You should see these students, Alex. Each year's form seems even more talented than the one before."
"The work they're doing there is rather impressive," Alex agreed.
"And I know they appreciate your support."
"It's nothing," Alex shook his head. "Now, while I did not get much time with you at The Crystal Palace, I did notice that you spent a rather long time on the terrace during the dancing."
"Did you?" Matthew answered nervously.
"What's her name, Matthew?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Alex," Matthew said, sipping his tea.
"Matthew…"
Matthew rolled his eyes. He looked around to make sure they were alone.
"All right, her name is Lady Mary Crawley," he said quietly. "No relation," he added as Alex opened his mouth to ask.
"A Lady? My, Matthew, how ambitious of you."
"Ambitious, or foolish," Matthew said resignedly. "Anyway, we spent a great deal of time together, but her Season is coming this summer so I expect I'll never see her again, except on the Society pages perhaps."
"That sounds rather tragic," Alex smiled, sipping his tea. "Be that as it may, how was the month you were able to spend with her?"
"Like something out of a dream," Matthew answered, looking past Alex and out the window.
Downton Abbey, England, April 1913
"Where is everyone?" Edith called as she came into the Morning Room and sat down.
"Papa had business in London. He left on the early train. Mama's upstairs. Sybil finished her breakfast and went out for a walk, I think," Mary replied listlessly, stirring her tea yet again.
"And what are your plans today?"
"Nothing in particular," Mary answered curtly, taking another sip of tea.
"It was nice to see Cousin Isobel last night," Edith said, nodding to Carson as he placed a plate of eggs and toast before her.
"It was."
"Strange that Cousin Matthew was not with her yet again. It's been over a month now that he hasn't come to dinner, I believe."
'37 days to be exact' Mary thought sadly.
She looked at Edith. "Why so concerned? Afraid you won't be able to plan your long delayed Church visit?"
"Hardly," Edith said dismissively. "I'm just wondering where he disappeared to. In any event, I don't think we'll be planning anything anytime soon."
"Why not? I thought you had such high hopes."
"It was an idea, that's all," Edith said. "Truth be told, I don't think we're particularly well matched, Cousin Matthew and I."
"Pardon?" Mary asked, now very interested in her sister's train of thought.
"Don't misunderstand me. I find Cousin Matthew's company to be very pleasant. I'm quite glad he's here and I'm not nearly as horrified that he will inherit the Estate as you are."
Mary nodded.
"But he hasn't expressed any interest in me, and if I'm honest, I can't say I'm particularly interested in him, at least not in the way that a woman should be towards a suitor anyway."
"How do you know that Cousin Matthew isn't interested in you? Perhaps he's waiting for the right moment to show his feelings," Mary baited her. She needed to understand what Edith was talking about.
"I doubt Cousin Matthew is shy about showing his feelings," Edith laughed. "If he had intentions towards me, he would be clear about them. Why would he hold back? He's not one for games, you know. He likes to be direct and honest, that much is obvious from knowing him for these past few months. I don't take it as an insult. As I say, I think we're better suited as cousins than anything more."
"So you've given up on your ambition to one day be Countess of Grantham then," Mary stated.
"That may have been your dream, not mine," Edith shot back. "I have no doubt that Cousin Matthew will find a suitable wife. He's quite charming, whether you realize it or not. It will be interesting to see who he brings here as his bride one day."
Edith ate her breakfast as Mary contemplated her words. Of course she knew Matthew hated games. He wore his emotions on his sleeve and she loved that about him. Mary frowned as she thought about Edith's last comment.
Matthew with another woman.
Matthew taking a wife.
Matthew living at Downton Abbey with a lovely bride who wouldn't fight with him over petty subjects, or make snide remarks about him in front of others, or deny him her affection just to tease him. Matthew loving a woman who put him first before such ludicrous ideas like concocting the perfect scheme or doing her duty to a complete stranger.
"Excuse me," Mary said quickly, placing her napkin on the table and rising. She left the Morning Room, crossed the Great Hall and went upstairs quickly, practically running as she reached her bedroom. She pulled the cord firmly and sat down at her vanity, surveying her jewellery with a mix of urgency and determination.
"Yes, Milady?" Anna called as she came into the room.
"I need to change immediately. Please have my blue jacket and skirt pressed. I'll need a white blouse and the matching hat and gloves as well, and these earrings."
"Right away, Milady. I wasn't aware you were travelling anywhere today."
"It was a sudden decision, Anna. I realized this morning that I have urgent business to attend to that cannot wait another day." Mary rose from the vanity and went to the mirror. She fidgeted as Anna came up behind her and dutifully began undoing the buttons on her morning dress.
"Very well, Milady. Where will you be off to?"
Mary stared at her reflection and raised her chin, her own eyes looking back at her fiercely.
"To Ripon, Anna. As quickly as possible."
Office of the Law Firm of Harvell, Carter & Lewis, Ripon, England, April 1913
"And you haven't spoken to her since?" Alex asked.
"No. I'm well aware of how it feels to say goodbye to Mary. There's no need to repeat that again when it's clear what's happened, and where I stand."
"And where do you stand, Matthew?"
"On shifting sands, it seems."
The office was quiet as Matthew looked down at his desk. He became agitated recounting all of the events of the Hunt and the fateful evening that followed. For a moment he felt he was back standing in the dark hallway in front of Mary's bedroom, his palms clammy as the secret lovers did God knows what behind the closed door. The next, he was watching Pamuk's sneering face as the bastard gloated over how well he and Mary got along, how they were from the same class, and how much Mary had enjoyed his company the previous evening. The insinuation was so horrible Matthew could barely repeat it to Alex. Matthew shook his head, trying to calm himself.
"Well, that's splendid, then," Alex said finally.
"What?" Matthew looked up in confusion.
"It has to be a relief to have some finality to everything," Alex stated. "It's over. You don't need to pretend that you aren't committed to Lady Mary because you no longer are. That must be a relief."
"I wouldn't exactly call it a…"
"Without you as an option, Lady Grantham and the Dowager Countess can find a suitable match for Lady Mary and Lord Grantham can focus on grooming you to succeed him. Perhaps they'll push Lady Edith on you. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"
"I'm not sure I could ever be interested in…"
"But you'll need to find someone, Matthew!" Alex raised his hands. "You're going to be the Earl of Grantham and you'll need a wife to give you sons to carry on the Crawley line. If that woman isn't going to be Lady Mary, then you need to dedicate yourself to finding a suitable replacement."
"I don't want to replace Mary, but I have no choice! She's already…"
"Maybe Lady Edith wouldn't be the best option," Alex mused. "Why settle for a Crawley girl? It isn't as if you weren't popular during the Winter Season. A proper Summer in London may bring you any number of potential candidates."
"I'm not looking for another…"
"In any event, that's a matter for another day. For now, what's important is that you've come to your senses and called time on this ridiculous charade. I'm very proud of you, Matthew. You've blended into Society far more easily than I thought you would. Everyone knows that the aristocracy don't marry for love, and you've now ensured that you will not either. You're truly one of them now."
"Blast it, Alex! What are you talking about? Of course I want to marry for love!" Matthew snarled.
"But I don't understand, Matthew," Alex looked at him perplexed. "You just told me it's over between you and Lady Mary. But if you want to marry for love, and you aren't going to marry her, then how important was love in your decision? I suppose I haven't considered that you didn't really love her…"
"How dare you!" Matthew raged. "You know very well that I loved her. I still love her!"
"I'm sorry?" Alex asked. "If you love her, then why have you avoided her for the past month? Did I miss something in your explanation? Did she tell you she'd gone off you?"
"No! But that bastard Pamuk! He said…"
"Forgive me, Matthew, I must have misheard," Alex interrupted again. "If you haven't spoken to Lady Mary since the Hunt, and you didn't actually witness anything occurring in her bedroom, and she hasn't broken things off with you, and you say that you still love her, then why are you trusting in the word of a scoundrel rather than in your own faith in the woman you love?"
Matthew opened his mouth to reply when the receptionist appeared at his door.
"I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. Lewis. Mr. Crawley, sir, there's someone here to see you."
"I don't have any meetings scheduled for today. Who is it, Michelle?"
"Lady Mary Crawley, sir."
Matthew looked at Alex, then back at the receptionist.
"Send her in by all means, Michelle," Alex said smoothly. "In fact, please show her to the boardroom and bring tea. Matthew will join her there in several moments."
"Yes, Mr. Lewis, sir."
"I don't want to see her, Alex," Matthew hissed.
"You need to see her. She came all the way here, Matthew. It would be rude to not meet with her after she's gone to the trouble."
Matthew stared back at his friend's enigmatic smile and shook his head ruefully. Alex's words still hung in his mind.
"Fine."
Matthew rose from his desk and walked down the hall to the boardroom.
"Mary," he said as he came in. He did not sit down.
"Matthew," she replied quietly. "Thank you for seeing me. I am sorry that I came unannounced."
"Well, this is a surprise, but it's fine. Were you in the area for some other reason?"
"No. I…well, I told my parents that I had shopping to do. But the truth is that I wanted to see you. You haven't been by the house for several weeks now."
"Yes, well I am rather busy, you see."
"Won't you sit and have tea?"
Matthew hesitated, staring at the tea and scones placed on the table, trying to avoid looking directly at her.
"Yes, of course."
Matthew took a seat and sipped his tea carefully. Mary cautiously watched him from her seat. She cradled her tea cup in her hands as if the words she were searching for were somewhere inside it.
"How have you been?" Mary asked finally.
"Fine."
"You've been missed," Mary continued slowly. "Cousin Isobel says you've been very busy here, and so you haven't had time to come to the house."
"Yes," he said shortly. "Work has been busy, as I said."
"Will you be joining us for dinner tonight? You know that Papa hates it whenever he goes more than two days without seeing you, and Mama has a new floral arrangement that she would like to show off to your mother, I'm sure."
Matthew shook his head, still not looking at her. "I don't know. I hadn't thought about it. I expect I'll be working late again this evening."
"Oh. Well I thought that perhaps you could come to the house before dinner and we could spend time in the small library. There's much that we need to," Mary paused, looking at him. "Catch up on."
Matthew dared to look back at her. He blinked, then shook his head.
"No. I have no time for that. And there's no need to...catch up."
Mary blinked at his insinuation. "I see. Well then." She looked away, scarcely able to believe his words.
Matthew put his tea cup down. "If that will be all, Mary, I must get back to work. Alex is here, actually, and there are some matters I must discuss with him. I'll let Mother know about Cousin Cora's new floral arrangement."
Matthew rose and headed for the door, not even waiting for her. He needed to get out of the boardroom. Seeing Mary, hearing her voice, knowing he had been without her for a month was destroying his resolve. He was torn between yelling at her and demanding answers and collapsing and begging her to take him back regardless of any of her other possible liaisons. In either case, he would regret his behaviour later and so he had to escape.
Mary shook her head. The tears began to well. He was walking away from her without even seeing her out. Their conversation had been short, abrupt and without any emotion. It was a stark contrast to how they normally were with each other. As Mary looked at his retreating form, she rose from her chair and willed herself to speak. She could not let him go without at least making herself clear about everything.
"Wait, Matthew!"
"Yes?" he turned back, swallowing and willing his hands to stop shaking.
"That isn't all I came to talk to you about. That's not at all what I came to talk to you about, actually."
"It isn't?"
"Won't you sit, please?"
Matthew carefully walked back to the table and they both sat down.
They both eyed each other. They could not raise tea cups to hide their faces or look away to avert their eyes.
Mary mustered her courage. If their relationship would change irrevocably with this conversation, she was determined to hold nothing back.
"The truth is that I owe you an explanation," Mary began.
"About what?"
"Matthew, don't play coy with me. You know exactly about what."
"I'm afraid I'm not following, Mary."
"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" Mary spat, rolling her eyes and glaring at him.
"You know perfectly well what I am referring to, why you've been avoiding me, why you haven't been by to visit, why you haven't written, why you haven't called upon me, why you haven't come to meet me in the small library, why you've been torturing me for the past month!" She spoke quickly, hoping that by getting the words out she could keep her tears at bay.
"If a month without me has tortured you, as you so put it, how do you suppose I feel?" Matthew snarled, his defences broken. "For God's sake, Mary, it was your idea that we should maintain this distance between us and this ruse of indifference. That has been torture! Having to live apart from you, having to act as though every time I see you, every time I speak to you, I have to restrain myself, restrain my emotions, act as though we're merely distant cousins, when in reality I ache for you! I did everything you asked, Mary! I played along with this entire scheme, even though it was absolutely ridiculous to me! I trusted you. I trusted you that the time would come when we would make our relationship clear to your family. All I had to do was wait, you said. And then you go and…" Matthew swallowed and looked away, unable to continue.
"And what? Go on! Say it! If I've ruined everything then have the decency to tell me, Matthew, honestly!"
She was crying now, but she didn't care, the tears falling down her flushed cheeks. Everything she wanted, everything she hoped for, her dream that was resurrected when he arrived at Downton was crumbling before her. It was obvious now that he knew. He knew about Pamuk coming to her. She did not understand the extent of what he knew, but it was clear he was disgusted by it, and further, by her.
"Do you have any idea what I had to bear? Any idea at all what I had to suffer through that night? Watching that damn Pamuk, that demon, that pathetic, horrible beast stalk you as if you were some morsel, some prey to be devoured?"
"He was horrible, and ghastly, and all of those things!" Mary cried. "He made my skin crawl with every covetous gaze, and all I wanted to do was run into your arms, knowing you would protect me from him, but I couldn't! I couldn't go to you because of my own stupidity and the need to do my duty, and this ridiculous scheme!"
"But...then why, Mary? Why did you let him come to you?"
Mary gasped. "I didn't! I would never betray you, Matthew! I would die before I let that happen! You have to believe me!"
Her eyes were pleading, and wet with tears, and Matthew's expression changed to stunned surprise.
"But I saw him come out of the sitting room after you. And after everyone went to bed…why was he? How did he?"
"I don't know!" Mary shook her head vigorously. "He made…advances to me in the sitting room, and I resisted him in no uncertain terms. I told him to not speak to me again. But I couldn't tell anyone because he was Evelyn's guest and I didn't want to cause a scene. After I retired, I was reading in bed and when I heard the doorknob turn, I thought it was you, so I got up to welcome you. But it was him! Then he was in the room with me and I didn't know how he got there, and he was saying such scandalous things, and I was trapped between him and the bed and I couldn't scream for fear of him being discovered in my room, and I couldn't move past him, and he was coming closer, and…"
"My God, Mary!" Matthew moved forward and caught her as she gasped for breath and sobbed. He pulled her into his embrace, holding her tight as she cried into his shoulder.
"I was about to scream! I was about to call for you, regardless of the consequences! I knew you would come. I knew you would get him away from me somehow. All I could think of was how desperately I needed to get to you, and how you would never forgive me if you found out he was in my bedroom and the thought of losing you killed me and I couldn't get him to leave! And he said that I…that I could still be a virgin for my husband…"
"Shh, it's all right. Oh, Mary, I've been so stupid. I should have protected you from that monster. You needed me and I failed you. I left you to fend for yourself like some heartless, horrible…"
"No! No, Matthew, darling, no!" Mary pulled back and framed his face with her gloved hands, mustering a slight smile despite her tears. "You did save me! It was you, wasn't it? You smashed the vase and woke the entire house!"
"Yes. I couldn't bring myself to open your door and see you…see you with him. I thought if I could wake everyone and bring them out into the hall it would stop him from…it would make him at least leave your room."
"It did! It did, my darling! And Papa did not discover us. Oh, Matthew, if not for you, I…" Mary squeezed her eyes shut, before opening them again and looking into his blue eyes. "He didn't…He didn't touch me, Matthew, because of what you did."
Matthew's eyes went wide as he recalled Pamuk's boastful words to him in the Great Hall the next morning. Lies. They were all lies.
"He didn't? You didn't? I…oh, Mary, I'm so very sorry for what I did."
"If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, for everything," Mary sobbed. "If I hadn't forced you into this charade, none of this would have happened. I don't know what I said to him to make him think I was open to any kind of…I must have done something to lead him to believe…"
"No!" Matthew roared, holding her tight. "Do not even begin to think that! You didn't do anything wrong, Mary. Nothing excuses his behaviour. Nothing. And I'm just as much a disappointment! I should have went to you right away. I should have made sure you were all right. I should have been a better man than that vile..."
"You are, Matthew! You were there for me when it mattered. You've always been there, even when I didn't deserve you. You've always been...my Perseus."
They both laughed through their tears and he pressed a firm kiss to her lips. She did not resist and kissed him back. She had missed him. God, how she had missed him.
"No more, Mary," Matthew gasped as they separated. "No more games, no more pretending." He swallowed hard. "I'm coming to dinner this evening and I'm going to ask your father for your hand. I'll tell him anything you want me to about my change of heart, but I won't wait another day, my love. Will you have me? Will you live your life with me? I can be petty and jealous and wretched and insecure. I barely know which cutlery to use at dinner. I have no title yet. I'm only a lawyer," he babbled, and Mary smiled widely.
"But I love you, Lady Mary Crawley. I love you. I will love you until the last breath leaves my body."
"Oh Matthew!" she kissed him. "No more charades. No more schemes. I'll tell Papa what I should have told him the moment that you arrived – that I will gladly spend the rest of my life with you, Matthew Crawley. I can be contrarian and very opinionated, and cold, and I argue far too much for my own good, and all I know how to do is order servants around and go shopping and plan lavish parties," she smiled through her tears.
"But I love you with all my heart, Matthew. I don't care what anyone thinks of us or knows about us. As long as I have you, that's all that truly matters."
Matthew smiled. "So will you?"
Mary smiled wide and bit her lower lip, her tears gone, replaced by a delightful fluttering that began in her stomach and spread through her chest and arms.
"You must say it properly. I won't answer unless you kneel down and everything."
Matthew smirked and shook his head at her. She wanted things her way to the last, and he loved her for it. He got out of his chair and got down on one knee. He beckoned Mary to stand and he took her right hand in both of his.
Mary looked down at his blue eyes and fought the urge to leap into his arms, formal proposal be damned. Her pulse sped up as the moment set in.
"Lady Mary Crawley," Matthew smiled up at her. "Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
"Yes!" she cried happily.
Matthew rose and they smiled at each other before kissing deeply. He picked her up and spun her around and she laughed as the walls of the boardroom whirled past her. He finally put her down and they kissed again, smiling, laughing and crying all at once.
They heard a slight knock and the door opened. Matthew and Mary looked over, still holding each other.
"Well, better late than never," Alex smiled. The receptionist came in with a silver tray with champagne glasses and placed it on the table before nodding to Matthew and leaving.
"This is a 1906 Veuve Clicquot, a very good year," Alex said, taking the bottle from the ice bucket and removing the wrapping from the neck. "I had it sent down from our London office just last month actually. I've been saving this bottle to celebrate a particularly lucrative transaction for the firm, but I think we can spare it. After all, the engagement of the year surely qualifies as a momentous occasion."
Alex popped the cork and Mary and Matthew laughed as he poured each of them a glass of champagne before taking one up himself.
"A toast," Alex smiled at them. "To the newly engaged Lady Mary Crawley and Matthew Crawley, and to not becoming tangled in their own web. Cheers!"
"Cheers!" Mary and Matthew replied happily.