Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, April 1913
"Thank you, darling," Mary whispered, squeezing his hand. "I know I have not made things easy for you, but thank you so much for persevering through it all."
"I have not made things easy for either of us, Mary," Matthew replied, smiling widely at her. "But it has always been easy to love you. I find I fall more in love with you every day."
They smiled at each other, their shared look and the squeeze of their hands holding the promise of a more private and meaningful conversation later. For now, they turned back to the family and patiently answered questions and listened to comments on a subject that just last year, neither of them thought they would ever be fortunate enough to discuss:
Their wedding.
Chapter 10:
Village Fair, Downton Village, England, May 1913
Matthew stared straight ahead, eyes narrowed as he focused on his target. He drew back his arm and pitched it forward, launching the ball through the air. It crashed into the bottles with a satisfying thud and scattered them to the ground.
"Got 'em all!" the attendant called, going back to collect the bottles.
"Oh, bravo!" a voice drawled in his ear seductively. "Mr. Crawley, you're so big and strong."
Matthew swallowed and turned his head, his eyes wide.
"Mary!" He smiled as she grinned at him. "What are you doing here?"
"Visiting the Fair of course," Mary replied in a more conversational tone. "And you?"
"Thought I'd stop by and have a go on my way home," Matthew replied. "How about you?" Matthew reached into his pants pocket for some change.
"Thank you," Mary answered. "But before we partake in the Coconut Saloon, aren't you forgetting something, Matthew?"
Matthew frowned at her. "Forgetting something? What?"
"Well I believe you owe your fiancée a proper kiss," Mary smiled.
Matthew's face lit up and Mary had to stop herself from laughing.
"How silly of me to not remember something so utterly important." He took her into his arms and she smiled at him, tilting her head as he kissed her chastely.
"Hello, Mary," Matthew grinned.
"Hello, Matthew."
"Ahem, are you going to have a go then, sir?" the attendant called.
Mary and Matthew laughed at each other. He disentangled from her and turned to the counter.
"Yes, of course," he smiled, handing the coins to the attendant. "Another go for me, and for the Lady as well."
"Two up!" the attendant called, passing the balls to Matthew and Mary.
Mary smiled at him before turning to her set of bottles and tossing the ball at them.
"So you were just passing through, then?" she asked as they played. "You'll be having dinner at Crawley House with your mother shortly? Where's your bicycle?"
"I walked today. And I won't be having dinner at home," Matthew answered, firing a ball through the bottles. "I told Mother I wouldn't be home for dinner. I was hoping to go up to the Big House after work to see you, but I was so distracted at the office that I did not have time to send word to you."
"How fortuitous that we met here then," Mary replied, tossing her last ball. "I wasn't expecting you tonight. You've been rather busy as of late," she said pointedly.
"It is a lovely coincidence indeed," Matthew agreed, clearing the bottles with his final throw. "I am sorry for being occupied lately, but I promise to make it up to you. I can go change and meet you back at Downton."
They stepped away from the game and walked casually through the Fair.
"Actually, I told Mama that I would likely take a tray in my room later," Mary told him. "I rather like the Fair. It's always nice to stroll about with the weather being so pleasant in the early evening."
"I see. Did they send Taylor with the motor for you?"
"No. I walked. Taylor's retired actually. He's going to run a tea shop in the Village or some other grand endeavour. Carson's found a new chauffeur – an Irishman – Branson's his name, I think. Anyway, I like to take my time at the Fair. It's not here for long. Many of the servants are about as well. Papa usually lets them visit the Fair when they have time."
"You mean when Carson isn't giving them new tasks to fill their evenings," Matthew smiled.
"He's not that strict," Mary replied, standing up for the butler as she always did.
"Well it seems that both of us are for once free for dinner, then," Matthew said.
"It would appear that way, yes. Would you like me to show you around?"
"I would love that, thank you."
Matthew offered her his arm. Mary looked at him briefly, then took his arm and leaned closer to him. It was a simple gesture, and they had walked arm in arm on numerous occasions, but never before at Downton, and never so openly without a care as to who saw them.
Mary smiled to herself. Arm in arm with her fiancé. She almost giggled.
"It does feel wonderful, doesn't it?" Matthew smiled at her knowingly.
Mary looked into his blue eyes and nodded. "So very wonderful."
The Royal Normal College and Academy for the Blind, Upper Norwood, London, England, March 1911
"Pay attention, please," Mary said firmly. "This time we'll start from the bridge and move into the chorus. The transition to the canon is tricky, so be sure to wait for your beat before following the singer before you."
"Yes, Lady Mary," her students said obediently.
Mary smiled to herself as she played the proper tone on the harmonica. She clapped her hands to begin the beat of the song and her students followed suit. After several beats, they began singing the bridge before the parts divided into the canon. She looked at them carefully as they progressed through the song. They held the last note for several moments and ended together. Mary smiled.
Applause rang out from behind her. "That was brilliant!"
Mary turned her head and saw Matthew beaming at her, clapping his hands.
"Mr. Crawley," Mary said with mock indignation. "Shouldn't you be focusing on your students rather than listening to mine?"
"I gave mine a break," Matthew replied easily, coming closer to her. "They finished their lesson for the day and they are doing wonderfully. I thought I'd come see how your lot are doing."
"As you heard for yourself, they're doing very well," Mary smiled at her students. "And I believe that the song they are currently working on is somewhat more advanced than what you are teaching your group."
Mary's students snickered.
"Is that so?" Matthew said with a smile. "Care to back up your boasting, Lady Mary?"
Mary raised her eyebrow to him. "Name your terms, Mr. Crawley."
"How about an impromptu recital? Let's say in two days' time? Sir Campbell can be the judge of who's students are more advanced."
"Two days? My, your students must be behind if you need that much time to prepare them," Mary teased.
"Well Sir Campbell is rather busy, you know," Matthew shook his head and smirked at her. "Is that a yes, then?"
"What is the prize that we'll receive when we win?"
"Must you have a trophy, Lady Mary? Is the victory itself not enough?"
"The victory is valuable, indeed," Mary agreed. "But I believe I would like a token to commemorate the event, something that will remind you of your place."
Mary's students giggled.
"Fine," Matthew raised his eyebrow at her. "What prize would suit?"
"I think the students would enjoy being let out a bit early at the end of the day," Mary mused. "And that can only be achieved if someone cleans up the classroom for them. So, rather than punish your students for having the misfortune of being stuck with an inferior teacher, all of the students shall be dismissed early following the recital, and the losing instructor shall clean the entire classroom on his own."
Mary's students cheered in agreement.
Matthew smiled. "Very well," he nodded. "I agree to your terms, Lady Mary. But I must tell you, I have an engagement scheduled for the evening two nights from now, so I shall not be cleaning this classroom after hours."
"Well perhaps you should make your excuses in advance, Mr. Crawley," Mary retorted. "I would hate for your dinner companions to be kept waiting for you while you attend to your chores here."
Mary's students whistled and laughed.
"We'll just have to see who gets the better of whom," Matthew smirked. He extended his hand to Mary. "May the best ensemble win."
Mary placed her hand in his. "Oh, we shall, Mr. Crawley."
Mary's students laughed again. Rather than shake her hand however, Matthew brought it to his lips and kissed her gloved fingers briefly.
Mary blinked and swallowed, staring at his lips.
"Your students are waiting, Matthew," she whispered.
"Right," Matthew agreed, finally releasing her hand. He nodded to her then turned away quickly. He adjusted his tie and took a breath as he crossed the room and went back to his students.
Village Fair, Downton Village, England, May 1913
Mary savoured the sweet flavour on her tongue, smiling as she felt the taste dissolve and disappear down her throat. She licked her lips and reached to Matthew for more.
"What?" she asked, seeing Matthew's smiling face gazing at her.
"I didn't realize you enjoyed candyfloss so much," he said in an amused tone.
"Why not?" Mary smirked at him as she took another wisp of the confection from the box he was carrying for her. "It was originally a delicacy for the rich, you know, and it is rather addictive. Why don't you try some?"
"No, that's all right," Matthew answered casually. "I wouldn't want to come between you and your pleasure."
Mary took another bite of candyfloss and looked at her fiancé with narrow eyes. She dabbed her lips with his handkerchief.
"Afraid you may enjoy it too much, darling?" she challenged.
"Hardly," Matthew scoffed, looking around. "I'm actually rather thirsty so sweets won't do. I think I'll have some refreshment."
"Very well. Lead on," Mary said, taking another piece of candyfloss.
Matthew led her past some more game stalls and away from the centre of the Fair. Bells rang from the High Striker, children squealed and laughed as they ran around the grounds and the screams and yells from the attendants and villagers filled the air. It was darker now as early evening set in and the Fair was buzzing merrily with people and activity.
"Matthew?" Mary asked as they moved behind a ring toss stall. "The lemonade stand is back over there."
She suddenly gasped as he quickly took hold of her and pulled her close, the large tree next to them and the canopy of the stall providing sufficient privacy.
"I'm not thirsty for lemonade," he whispered before pressing his lips against hers.
Mary sighed pleasantly as his arms circled her waist and pulled her closer to him. His touch was insistent and probing, and she shivered in delight. She then melted into him as his lips softened against hers, his hands tracing circles across her hips and back. When he finally allowed them a respite to breathe, she smiled at him.
"Well," she composed herself. "Are you refreshed?"
"Very much so, thank you," Matthew smiled back. "Although I am now feeling rather hungry."
"Matthew!" she scolded him, pushing against his chest playfully. "Behave yourself!"
"Let's go," he breathed, and his gaze and tone told her he could not be refused.
"Yes," she agreed. "We should leave…immediately."
The Crystal Palace Park, London, England, March 1911
"Are your students ready for tomorrow?"
Mary smiled. "We were ready yesterday," she said confidently. "It was you who asked for the extra time."
Matthew laughed. "Well hopefully I've put it to good use, then."
They turned and began the walk back to the College. Mary glanced over at him as he looked across a pond. Even in his staid business suits, there was a confident air about him. It was not arrogance, but rather a calm belief in himself and what he was capable of. He was rather young for a lawyer, in Mary's experience anyway, but he carried himself with a practised and focused ease that she found herself rather comfortable with in the weeks she knew him.
Her thoughts wandered to how he would look in white tie and tails. He said he wasn't very familiar with the ways of Society, but as a lawyer he must have been to his fair share of formal events. Dashing, Mary thought. Yes, Matthew must look dashing in white tie.
Mary looked out over the park as they walked. It was a short stroll from the College to The Crystal Palace and the surrounding grounds and the weather had been quite pleasant each day, allowing them to eat their lunch and take a jaunt before resuming afternoon classes. She liked it here. There were people milling about, enjoying the outdoors or on their way to The Crystal Palace. Everyone left them alone. No one was watching her, judging her. She could be herself here, she thought.
Matthew looked over at Mary as she gazed around. She was gorgeous. There was no other way to describe it, he thought. She was sharp lines and alabaster skin and perfectly coiffed hair and vanilla and rosewater and ethereal grace in every movement. And the eyes. How could he describe her eyes? They seemed to speak all on their own with each glance, and he was powerless to comprehend them fully. All he knew was that he wanted to see them speak to him again and again.
He was mesmerized from that first day, expecting Lady Mary the instructor assigned to the same class as him to be a stodgy older woman with glasses and a high pitched voice that dripped with condescension. What he met instead was a vision.
"I've been thinking," Mary mused. "It's very kind that the students are excused early following the recital, but there's no real prize for the winning instructor is there?"
"I thought watching the embarrassment of the losing instructor was sufficient reward already?"
"That is true, to a point," Mary conceded. "However, I think there should be something more, something between you and I, to separate the victor from the defeated."
"Well what would you suggest, Mary?" Matthew asked with a bemused expression.
"I don't know just yet," Mary frowned. "I'll think about it and let you know after I've won."
"Yes, please do," Matthew chuckled. "And I will think about it as well, and let you know what I expect from you after I've won."
Mary's eyes widened at his bold reply and she looked away, then glanced back at him curiously. A small smirk came to her lips, matching his own. They walked back in silent contemplation to the College.
Downton Abbey, England, May 1913
"Mary."
Mary looked up from her book and smiled politely at her father.
"Yes, Papa?"
"Do you know if Matthew will be joining us for dinner? We haven't heard from him today."
"Of course he will," Mary said easily. "Unless he sends his regrets, it's assumed that my fiancé will eat with us."
Robert smiled. "Good."
"Why so interested?" Mary asked. "The two of you spent so much time together after dinner last night I thought I'd have to send a search party to bring you through."
"I didn't mean to monopolize your betrothed's time," Robert laughed, walking over to a desk and quickly sifting through some papers. "I needed to talk to Matthew last night to tell him to buck up a little bit."
"Whatever for?" Mary frowned. She was not aware that Matthew was feeling low.
"Oh, it's nothing," Robert shook his head. "You know Matthew, he's very meticulous. He wants to get to the bottom of everything and when things don't go his way he can be rather let down."
"I suppose so," Mary said slowly, still not understanding what her father was referring to.
"He can take defeat somewhat personally, particularly when it concerns you," Robert mused.
"Papa, what are you talking about?" Mary almost shouted in frustration.
"I'm sorry, my dear," Robert chuckled. "I forgot that even though you are engaged, you barely know Matthew, don't you?"
Mary swallowed, not wanting to reply.
"Well, you must know about all the work he's been doing," Robert shook his head. "I tried to tell him it was a lost cause, but he wouldn't listen. He eventually had to accept what the rest of us already knew."
"Which is?" Mary was almost flailing her arms now waiting for her father to get on with the explanation.
"The entail, of course. Matthew looked at the precise terms, as well as how it applied to your Mama's dowry, and despite his best efforts he came to the conclusion that it cannot be broken."
"The entail? He was researching ways to break it?" Mary asked, shocked at this discovery.
"Yes, he's been spending long hours and weeks at the office doing so from what I understand. He even enlisted the aid of that other lawyer, the one from London," Robert looked up trying to remember.
"Alexander Lewis," Mary replied automatically.
"Yes, that's the one! Matthew consulted him and they eventually determined that it would take an Act of Parliament to break the entail. And even then, the Estate would have to be in danger, which it's not."
"An Act of Parliament," Mary repeated.
"Yes. Would you believe he told me he was considering drafting one?" Robert laughed. "Something about if he could get the Lord Chancellor to consider reforming the property laws he could perhaps abolish entails once and for all! Well, I told him that certainly wasn't going to happen this decade! Not with the current Lords in the House and their love for convention."
"Did you ask him to do this? Or was it Granny?" Mary wondered aloud.
"No, it was neither of us. He did it all on his own initiative. He's been working on it since before you were engaged from what I understand. He told me he was going to begin researching it when we rode out for the Hunt."
"Oh," Mary frowned. A million thoughts ran through her mind all at once.
"I knew all along it was a fruitless exercise," Robert continued, not noticing Mary deep in contemplation. "If it were solely up to me, certainly you could inherit, my dear girl. But you see, it's not in my power to do that. I'm a custodian, not an owner. I have a responsibility to all those who came before me, to honour their wishes, their effort, all that they gave to create and maintain this place for me and those who will come after me. You understand, don't you Mary? My hands are tied."
"Yes," Mary said, finding her voice again and rising from the sofa. "I finally understand you perfectly, Papa."
"It's a lucky stroke then that's you've decided to marry Matthew. It ensures you can stay here and don't have to get out of his way," Robert said cheerfully.
"On that point we completely agree, Papa," Mary nodded, turning to leave the library. "When it comes to Matthew, I am very lucky," Mary said over her shoulder as she left the room.
The Royal Normal College and Academy for the Blind, Upper Norwood, London, England, March 1911
Applause rang out and Mary smiled. She nodded in acknowledgment to Sir Campbell and went over and thanked all of her students individually before everyone sat down. Taking her place next to Matthew, Mary stood by patiently as Sir Campbell rose from his chair.
"That was delightful!" he beamed. "Absolutely delightful! I must say that in a short two weeks, both of you have done wonders with this class. I wonder what miracles you could perform if I could convince you to join our permanent faculty!"
The students laughed and applauded.
"All of you are to be commended, all of you," Sir Campbell smiled. "However, I have been given strict orders that I am to decide a winner of this recital, and so I shall do my duty. Both ensembles were excellent, and I am very much looking forward to hearing all of you perform at our gala next month. For today though, by the smallest of margins mind you, I must declare that the superior performance was turned in by the choir of…Lady Mary."
Mary's students cheered in victory. Matthew's students groaned but applauded their classmates. Mary blushed slightly as Sir Campbell and Matthew both congratulated her.
"Now," Sir Campbell continued. "I have been told that class will be dismissed early today. So do enjoy this privilege and we shall see you all tomorrow then."
The students gathered their things and were escorted out of the classroom. They each thanked Matthew and Mary at the door as they left, with Sir Campbell and his assistant going out last.
"Both of you have my sincerest congratulations," Sir Campbell said. "We wish to believe that at the College, the experiences we give our students go beyond overcoming their blindness, that we don't want them to feel simply normal, but that we want them to feel extraordinary. It's an ambitious goal, I know, but when I hear performances like that, and when I hear their joy, it makes me believe that we're on the right track indeed. Thank you. Thank you both of you."
"Thank you, Sir Campbell," Mary and Matthew replied as the Principal left with his assistant.
"Well, I suppose this is the part where you gloat," Matthew smiled, walking back into the classroom once they were left alone.
"I'd rather watch you wallow and cry," Mary teased. "It's so much more satisfying to see you truly embrace your defeat."
"I'm afraid I can't spare any tears for you, Mary, although my dinner guests shall be very disappointed that I won't be joining them," Matthew laughed. He began putting chairs back to their rightful place. "Have you thought about your own personal prize? I shudder to think that I may be at the mercy of your imagination."
"I'll let you know," Mary answered, picking up her coat and making for the door. "For now, my driver is waiting for me. I told him to pick me up early today, since I knew I'd be done class before our usual time," she grinned. "Enjoy your evening, Matthew."
Matthew simply nodded and watched her disappear out the door. He shook his head. "Alone at last," he sighed ruefully, reaching for the broom.
Downton Abbey, England, May 1913
"Good evening, everyone," Sybil said sweetly as she practically sashayed into the parlour. She had kept them waiting, being the last to come down. Rather than impatiently go into the dining room, everyone merely stared at her in shock.
"Sybil!" Cora frowned, taking in the full effect of her youngest daughter's newest frock.
"What are you wearing?" Edith asked, dumbfounded.
"They're harem pants," Sybil said proudly. "Soon women everywhere will be wearing them, as a symbol that we're not bound by outdated and male dominated conventions on fashion."
"The future never looked so frightening," Violet huffed.
Mary turned to Matthew. She was about to ask him if he had ever seen anything so ridiculous in his life when she stopped. Like everyone else, Matthew was looking at Sybil in her trouser frock. Unlike everyone else, he wasn't shocked or incredulous. His eyes were bright and he was grinning at Sybil.
"Sybil, what in Heaven…" Cora began.
"Let's be seated everyone," Robert ordered. "It's not fair to Mrs. Patmore if we wait any longer."
They all went through to the dining room. Sybil smiled triumphantly. Edith and Mary shook their heads and rolled their eyes at her in equal measure. Matthew just kept smiling.
Despite Sybil's attempts to discuss how her frock would be the uniform of suffragettes across England, no one rose to the bait. Cora stubbornly told her they would be making a prompt visit back to the dressmakers at their first opportunity. When they all went through, the same conversation continued.
"Oh, you should consider saving that frock for Sybil's Season," Violet noted, drawing wide eyes from everyone. "Just think of how popular she'll be when she is presented to the Royal Family wearing similar pants as the King."
Cora rolled her eyes. Sybil complained that no one was taking her revolutionary gesture seriously.
Matthew continued to smile.
Mary continued to look at her fiancé curiously.
The Royal Normal College and Academy for the Blind, Upper Norwood, London, England, March 1911
Matthew groaned as he put on his coat and walked out of the classroom. He was tired. He was hungry. Moreover, he was annoyed.
Losing the recital was annoying. Seeing Mary leave in triumph was annoying. Risking a sore back sweeping the entire classroom was annoying. Most annoying of all however, was the fact that he could not bring himself to dislike Mary for winning. She was hardly polite about it. She was remarkably competitive and savoured the victory with seemingly no desire to tone down her glee. And Matthew found all of her behaviour quite endearing. Though Mary was hardly a good sport, Matthew thought only of how her eyes seemed to light up playfully and her voice sang whimsically in celebration of her achievement. To his chagrin, Matthew enjoyed seeing her acting so freely, even at his own expense.
Matthew reached the foyer, wondering to himself what he was going to do about dinner after having to cancel his previous plans. He came to a sudden stop as he realized he was not, in fact, the last person remaining in the College.
"Finally," a rich voice said teasingly. "I thought perhaps the broom had gotten the best of you."
"Mary!" Matthew swallowed as he came up to her. "What are you doing here?"
"I told Taylor to take Edith home first," Mary replied. "He wasn't sure about it, but I can be persuasive when I wish to be," she laughed.
"I don't understand," Matthew said. "Why would you wait around?"
"For you, of course," Mary smiled. "I've decided what my personal prize should be."
"Oh," Matthew sighed, his bourgeoning hopes quelled. "Well what shall it be, Mary? Nothing that involves more sweeping, I hope."
"No, Matthew, I'll spare you from that," Mary laughed. "I thought we could have dinner at the small restaurant we always pass during lunch."
"Really?" Matthew asked in shock. "What I mean is, won't you be missed at home?"
"I told Edith that I was having a light meal with another teacher to go over lessons," Mary smiled. "Taylor is coming back to fetch me later this evening. My parents will probably be impressed that I'm taking such an interest in my charity work."
"That's…splendid," Matthew said, impressed by her attention to detail. "Well then, as you wish, Mary. I'll pay for your dinner as your reward for today's victory."
"Thank you, Matthew," Mary said demurely. She looked down at the floor and bit her lower lip before looking back at him. "There's something else, though."
"I'm learning that there often is where you are concerned, Mary," Matthew smiled. "What else then? I hope it's nothing too painful for me."
"No," Mary blinked and smirked nervously. "I hope it won't be, anyway."
Matthew noticed for the first time that Mary had quietly stepped towards him as they talked, such that when she now looked up at him, they were standing very close together. He smelled her perfume and could not help but look down to her lips. They looked soft and moist and he tore his eyes away from them before she gave him a deserved slap.
"Matthew," Mary breathed, her lips remaining parted as she said his name.
Matthew looked at her in confusion. Perhaps his desire was clouding his judgment. He could see Mary's eyes fixed on him, her entire expression different this time. She slowly looked down at his mouth, and his eyes widened as she licked her lips for the tiniest of moments.
"Mary," he gasped, leaning towards her, unable to stop.
She nodded, her eyes moving from his mouth to look up at him in what he could scarcely believe looked like…anticipation? His senses were flooded by dark eyes and pale skin and vanilla and rosewater and full lips that demanded his attention without mercy.
Matthew touched her lips with his, the contact sending a warm heat through his body. He kept his eyes open, looking for any sign of rejection or disgust. Mary's eyes stayed open for a moment, before he felt her push back against his lips with her own, and a sigh escaped her as her eyes closed and she turned her head towards him.
Matthew's eyelids shut as pleasure flared in his heart. His hands moved of their own accord and circled Mary's waist, bringing her closer as their kiss deepened. He finally pulled back, fear shooting through him that she would find him lacking in skill, or far too presumptuous.
"Mmm," Mary smiled, making no attempt to move out of his embrace as his hands remained on her waist. "A very sweet prize indeed."
Her smile calmed him and he smiled back before moving towards the door and holding it open for her. They kept a polite distance between them as they walked along lit streets to the restaurant. For the first time, both of them were silent in the other's presence, visions of their first kiss filling their heads.
Downton Abbey, England, May 1913
"Good night, Cousin Matthew!" Sybil said happily as she bounded out of the drawing room after Edith and Cora. Everyone was still reeling from her bizarre new frock and Mary suspected that her Granny had gone home quickly to avoid seeing it any longer. When Lord Grantham retired earlier, he mumbled something about having to pay for another dress as he left the room.
"It was kind of all of them to leave us alone," Matthew said.
"Don't joke," Mary frowned. "You know that they're watching us like hawks. We're supposed to be closely chaperoned until the wedding."
"Did you expect anything else?" Matthew smiled. "We're lucky we are able to dine together so frequently as it is. You told me that we would normally be kept apart."
"I was hoping that they would allow us more freedom since we supposedly don't know each other very well," Mary answered. "But apparently becoming more familiar with one's own fiancé is not as important as following tradition."
"All the more reason to take advantage of opportunities like this one," Matthew smiled, reaching for her hands.
Mary came into his embrace. He held her and they stood together, swaying slightly, the only sound the ticking of the clock in the Great Hall and Matthew's contented breathing.
"You seemed to be impressed by Sybil's new frock," Mary said quietly.
"I wouldn't quite use the word 'impressed'. Bemused would be more appropriate. Why, what did you think of it?"
"At first I was shocked, then appalled," Mary recalled. "But perhaps I haven't given the idea of trousers enough thought."
"Darling," Matthew smiled, pulling back slightly to look at her. "You're not a suffragette. You cannot possibly want to…"
"Why not?" Mary said defensively. "I care about fashion. It could be a new trend, you know."
"I suppose it could," Matthew said carefully, his eyes searching as he tried to comprehend Mary's train of thought.
"Well, do you like them or not?" Mary asked impatiently.
"They're fine. I don't particularly mind one way or the other," he replied.
Mary sighed in exasperation and pulled away from him.
"What's gotten into you?" Matthew looked at her curiously. "If you want to try wearing trousers, or bloomers, or harem pants, or whatever they may be called, you're free to do so."
"But what do you want? What do you prefer I do?" Mary demanded.
"Since when is what I prefer important in your fashion decisions?" Matthew asked with a chuckle.
"It's not important! It's just…" Mary shut her eyes in frustration.
"Mary?" Matthew stepped closer. He lifted her chin with his hand, forcing her to open her eyes and look at him. "What is it?" he asked with genuine concern.
"Since the day that we met, you've always done everything in your power to please me," she said softly. "You sang the songs I wanted to sing at the College, you cleaned the classroom, you stepped aside so I could dance with those boring men at the gala, you didn't cause a scene during my Season, you pretended not to know me when I asked you to, you sent me roses, you always put me first."
"Yes?" Matthew said, completely perplexed. "And what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing at all!" Mary cried, rolling her eyes. "Then I find out that you've been working day and night trying to break the entail…for me! Papa wouldn't do that, and none of my…" Mary took a breath and spoke in a quieter voice. "None of my other suitors would fight for me like that. They all found out I wouldn't inherit and they left. But you…breaking the entail would leave you Lord of Downton without Mama's money to support it, but you went ahead despite that."
"I'm not them, darling," Matthew answered, smirking at her to try and lift her spirits. "And I'm not your Father."
"I know that!" she sighed. "But you're always thinking of me, and tonight, when I saw you smile at Sybil's horrid frock, something I would never dream of wearing, it dawned on me that I've never once…" Mary swallowed. "I've never once put you first. I've never once done anything with only you in mind. I've never put aside any of my own preferences or wishes to make sure that you're happy! And even now, now that we're engaged and I've never been happier in my entire life, a part of me can't help but wonder why."
"Why what?" Matthew asked, even more confused now. "Wonder why you're happy?"
"No!" Mary shook her head vigorously. "Why you are! Why are you happy, Matthew? Why are you happy with me? You're the heir to the Estate! We all knew it of course, but it's confirmed now. It's final! And as the future Lord Grantham, you could choose any woman you want for your Countess. You don't need me anymore. So why would you want me, when all I've ever done is give you every reason not to?"
Matthew stared at her, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. He frowned, then shook his head slightly, then smiled ruefully, his eyes never leaving hers.
"I love you, Mary," he said simply, leaning forward and kissing her lips chastely.
"But why…" she sobbed.
"Shh," Matthew said patiently, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I sang the songs you wanted to sing because I love hearing your voice. I cleaned the classroom because I lost at the recital, and I am a man of my word. I didn't dance with you at first because I was too afraid that in comparison to those toffs, you wouldn't want me anymore. I wanted very much to cause a scene at your Season, but I didn't because it would have guaranteed I was forbidden to see you for the rest of the Summer, and that would have been a fate worse than death."
Mary smiled, calming her breathing as she listened to him.
"And I agreed to your scheme because I trusted your judgment that it was the only way to ensure we would end up together. And I sent you roses because it was Valentine's Day, and on Valentine's Day you spoil the one you love. And I researched the terms of the entail and ways to break it because Downton is rightfully yours, and I wanted to find a way to get it for you, and I've failed rather miserably at that to be honest."
Mary laughed, placing her hands on his chest as he pulled her closer.
"You're wrong, Mary, about one thing," Matthew smiled. "I am happy. I'm overwhelmingly, embarrassingly, ridiculously happy. What you fail to realize is that I'm not putting you first, and I'm not thinking of you instead of myself. I'm not sacrificing anything, Mary. What you don't understand is that what I want, what I have always wanted since that fateful day we first met at the College, is you. And now that I finally have you, I don't try and please you just to keep you interested. I want to make you happy because I love you. And very simply, making you happy makes me happy."
"Matthew," Mary sighed. "There must be something, something that you want that I haven't given you."
"There's all sorts of things, actually," Matthew raised his eyebrow teasingly at her.
"Matthew!" Mary said, blushing fiercely at his meaning.
"Darling, rest assured that I am vain enough to make demands of you when the mood strikes," he chuckled. "And I hope you remember this conversation when I do."
Mary kissed him, smiling and laughing at both her own insecurity and his gallant understanding.
"Now, about Sybil's new frock," Matthew began.
"Yes?" Mary laughed.
"As I said, I have no issue with it. But, if you must know what I really prefer, I don't particularly care for women's pants, especially on you."
"Is that right?" Mary asked mischievously.
"Yes. I much rather prefer gowns, dresses and skirts on you, that is, if you must wear anything."
"Matthew," Mary hissed, blushing again.
"You see, darling, while trousers may be a new trend, and they may be practical, or a symbol in Sybil's eyes of the empowerment of women, they do absolutely nothing for a woman's figure."
Mary blinked.
"And at the risk of you thinking me a chauvinistic and uncouth charlatan, I much rather prefer that you wear something that, when it comes to your figure, allows me to use…my imagination."
Matthew pulled her closer and Mary followed willingly. She smiled at him as he kissed her firmly. Overwhelmingly, embarrassingly, ridiculously happy, Matthew told her. Yes, Mary thought, that described what she was feeling perfectly.