Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, May 1913
"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.
Chapter 11:
Downton Abbey, England, June 1913
"What would you like to do this afternoon?" Matthew asked her from across the table. "Fancy a ride?"
"That does sound lovely," Mary smiled. "But Diamond needs a new shoe, and I usually let Lynch break it in for a day or so after it's been put on before I take him out again."
Matthew smiled to himself. "The library then?"
"I'd be delighted," Mary agreed. "Excuse us. We'll see all of you later," she said to the rest of the family as she and Matthew pushed their chairs back from the lunch table.
Robert looked up from behind his newspaper.
"You're both going to the library?" he asked.
"Yes," Mary replied.
"You'll have to hold off for now," Cora ordered. "I'm taking Sybil to Ripon so you'll have to wait for Mrs. Hughes to finish her duties."
"Honestly, Mama!" Mary rolled her eyes. "We have to wait for Mrs. Hughes before we're allowed to go read in the library?"
"Mary," Robert warned.
"We're just reading, for Heaven's sake! And we won't be reading the same book, or even sitting on the same sofa!"
"Mary," Cora said firmly. "You need a chaperone. You know that."
"What I know is that my fiancé will be Lord Grantham one day and is as upstanding a man as any of you will have the privilege to meet. Surely we can be trusted to spend an afternoon reading without Mrs. Hughes of all people having to shadow us?"
"It doesn't have to be Mrs. Hughes," Robert said calmly. "But your Mama is out this afternoon and Cousin Isobel isn't here."
"And the rest of us aren't married," Edith added with a smirk before taking a sip of her tea.
"Can we at least be allowed to go to the library without having to wait?" Mary held up her hands in exasperation. "Or are you afraid that Matthew will seduce me on the walk across the Great Hall?"
Matthew's eyes widened and he looked down, trying desperately to not let Robert see the smile threatening to cross his face.
"Mary!" Cora frowned. "Do not use such shocking language among the family!"
"Oh please, Mama," Mary rolled her eyes again. "Sybil already knows what 'seduce' means."
Sybil stayed quiet and looked down at her plate.
"Mary, you'll wait for a chaperone and that's final," Robert said firmly. "We already allow both you and Matthew numerous liberties when you're here at Downton. You're supposed to be chaperoned at all times, and we are rather lenient about it. Don't give me a reason to consider being more strict about convention."
Mary rolled her eyes and was about to retort when Carson came in.
"Beg pardon, Your Ladyship. The telegram for Lady Rosamund is ready for your review," the butler showed the note to Cora.
"Excellent," Cora read the note quickly. "That will do. Thank you, Carson," Cora approved.
Mary reached over and snatched the paper from her Mama's hand.
"I'll take it to the post office," she declared, rising from the table.
"I thought you were going to the library," Edith said.
"Forget the library," Mary said dismissively. "I'd rather take a walk instead, although I'll need an escort." Mary looked at Matthew pointedly.
"Erm…I would be pleased to escort you," Matthew said, rising from his chair. "With your permission, Robert, of course."
Cora looked at Robert. He looked back at her and shrugged his shoulders.
"Very well, but both of you are to come right back. We can send someone down to the post office to find out when you've left if necessary," Robert went back to reading his newspaper.
"And if you stop at Crawley House, we expect Isobel should be there," Cora added.
"Fine," Mary said icily, practically stomping out of the room.
Matthew bowed and quickly wished everyone a good afternoon before following her out the door.
"A telegram for Aunt Rosamund?" Matthew asked as they crossed the Great Hall.
"Mmm," Mary nodded. "She's always nagging Papa to send supplies to London. We cable her so her butler can be at King's Cross to meet the shipment. It's idiotic, really. But I'm rather grateful to her at the moment."
Matthew smiled. "It does give us a convenient escape."
"It will just be a moment for Anna to fetch my coat," Mary said.
"Take your time," he smiled. "I'll wait for you down here. I wouldn't want anyone to have a heart attack seeing me walk upstairs with you."
"They really are getting out of hand with all of this chaperone nonsense," Mary shook her head. "We don't need to be watched at all hours."
"Actually, they probably aren't too far off, although I certainly wouldn't admit it to them," Matthew said thoughtfully.
Mary stopped and turned to him. "Pardon?" she asked incredulously.
Matthew leaned towards her and lowered his voice. "When I asked if you fancied a ride, I wasn't thinking about Diamond at all," he said with a devilish smile.
"Matthew!" Mary scolded him, before she also smirked and lowered her voice to a whisper. "When I said I would be delighted to go into the library with you, I wasn't thinking about reading either," she said quickly.
They each blushed fiercely and smiled to themselves as Mary left him to go upstairs to her bedroom.
Central Boxing Academy, Manchester, England, May 1911
"Two!" Alex shouted.
Matthew panted, sweat running down his face. There was sweat in his hair, above his eyes, in the hollow beneath his throat and all across his shirt. He was sweating in places where he didn't realize he was capable of sweating.
Grunting mightily, he swung his left fist across his body, then followed with his right, waving at air as Alex easily moved away.
"Two!" Alex growled.
Matthew gulped to fill his lungs and turned back around, leading again with his left hand. The leather glove felt as though it weighed a full tonne, but after his left hand flew uselessly through the air, his right connected this time, hitting Alex's raised glove with a satisfying pop.
Matthew bent over, his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. His head was pounding and his legs were threatening to give out at any moment. He glanced up at Alex through damp blond locks that seemed stamped to his forehead.
They smiled at each other.
"Eight rounds. Not bad, Matthew," Alex nodded. "Not bad at all."
Alex helped Matthew from the ring and over to a chair. He collapsed into it, almost sliding off the end as his legs splayed in front of him. Alex stood patiently, waiting for him to catch his breath.
"It is curious to me," Alex stated. "Why someone who clearly has very little athletic ability would decide to spontaneously take up the sport of boxing, of all things. Cricket not keeping your interest, Matthew?"
"Hardly," Matthew huffed, swallowing several times as his wind slowly returned to him. "Cricket and tennis are still gentlemanly sports that I enjoy, but no one ever got into fighting shape playing cricket."
"Fighting shape? And who is the poor soul who will bear the brunt of your new physique? Achilles or Hector?"
Matthew rolled his eyes and carefully raised himself out of his chair. Alex quickly took off the boxing gloves and walked with him, quite slowly, toward the locker room.
"If you must know, it's because of Mary."
"Forgive me, Matthew, but you do realize that it is a crime to hit a Lady?"
"I'm not going to box with her, Alex!"
"Then why…"
"One thing that I learned from my time with Mary is that I have very little to offer her. I have no title. I'm not rich. I don't hunt. I don't have a country Estate or horses or anything of value beyond my wits."
"If only she could hear what a worthy case you're making for yourself," Alex smiled.
Matthew rolled his eyes again.
"If I cannot change my class, or my prospects, then I shall focus on what I can change."
"So you'll stop being a lawyer and become a prize fighter and this will win her heart?" Alex asked.
"No," Matthew spat. "I already told you, it's very likely I'll never see her again."
"I must admit that I often find what you say hard to understand but you have reached a new level of confusion now," Alex smirked.
"What I can control, Alex," Matthew said firmly, "is I can become a better man. I can become the very best man I am capable of being. I can be in better health. I can be smarter. I can be harder working. I can be well read and eloquent. I can be someone, outside of the title or material possessions, that is worthy of Mary."
"A truly honourable and noble task, Matthew," Alex smiled. "But I still fail to understand how any of this makes sense if you are resigned to never seeing the object of your affection ever again."
"I am very slowly accepting the fact that I shall never see her again," Matthew agreed glumly. "But, if by some miracle, some divine intervention, or some dumb luck, I do somehow cross her path someday, and the stars align and oceans move and I am able, someway, to properly court her, then I would be a fool indeed to not be my absolute best self in that moment, wouldn't I? I may never get the opportunity to win her heart, Alex, but it won't be because I wasn't fully prepared to do so."
"That's rather…cute…Matthew," Alex said generously. "But really aren't you being rather irrational? To go to all of this effort would be understandable if you had some incentive, or encouragement from Lady Mary. If she wrote to you, or if you saw her occasionally, if you had some reason to believe that all of this might be worth it one day. As it stands now, a logical person would say you're wasting your time."
"That's very true, Alex," Matthew replied. "I'll probably read about her engagement later this summer and be inconsolable over it. But you see, being in love isn't about being rational or logical, I'm afraid. It's a type of madness, really. Once you have it, that's simply all there is to it. I never realized that until I met Mary. I don't need any incentive, or any encouragement, or even any reason to believe that any of it will be worth it someday. I want to be the best man I can be for Mary because I love her, and that's what she deserves. I suppose love isn't always based on reciprocity or what you can get out of it. Besides, it's motivation enough to think of how despondent I would be if my rare opportunity came and I hadn't done everything in my power to be ready for it."
Alex looked at Matthew with a sideways glance.
"Go on, tell me what you think of my delusions," Matthew sighed.
"I think," Alex nodded. "I think it truly tragic for Lady Mary that she's going to have to settle for some toff instead of you."
The friends exchanged smirks.
"I also think that you should consider focusing on becoming more eloquent. Becoming a better athlete could take far too long."
Matthew laughed.
Village Hall, Downton Village, England, August 1913
"Darling, I didn't know we were expecting you," Mary smiled as Matthew approached her. He touched the brim of his hat and nodded to her in greeting.
"How could I miss my first Annual Flower Show?" Matthew joked, leaning over and kissing her cheek. He tipped his hat to Cora and Violet, who were inspecting the tables across the room.
"Besides," he said quietly. "Mother is determined to champion Mr. Molesley Sr. against Cousin Violet, so I was compelled to show up."
Mary took his arm and they walked over to the display in question. Mary smiled. The roses were similar to the arrangement Matthew had secretly delivered to her on Valentine's Day.
"Rather marvellous, aren't they?" Matthew grinned, nodding towards the roses. "It must have taken Mr. Molesley weeks to grow these."
"Some would say even months," Mary replied, raising an eyebrow to her fiancé.
"They are lovely. Well done, Mr. Molesley," Mary said, resuming her formal tone.
"Thank you, Milady, Sir," Mr. Molesley Sr. bowed his head to both of them.
"I defy anyone to find better roses in all the county," Isobel beamed.
Violet rolled her eyes. "Your intentions are as subtle as your pontificating on Mr. Molesley's behalf," she said airily. "Grand pronouncements won't mean anything today. None of us are on the panel."
"No," Isobel agreed. "Though none of us are judges, one of us does hold a much higher position of influence."
"Mother," Matthew warned. "I trust you aren't suggesting anything untoward."
"Oh, but she is," Violet said pointedly. "Your dear mother thinks that I've profited from my title and position rather than win my prizes on merit."
"Or the merit of your gardeners, in any event," Isobel retorted.
"I'm sure Cousin Violet's roses are stunning," Matthew offered, looking at Mary. "Give her the benefit of the doubt, Mother. When you see her roses, you may see they can't be bettered."
"It's possible," Isobel agreed. "Even the smallest odds still represent a possibility, I suppose."
"It is the height of irony that you accuse me of benefitting from bias while you yourself can't seem to look past your own," Violet said with a bored expression. "You simply can't leave anything alone."
"I take that as a compliment," Isobel smiled, before walking to the next display with Cora.
"I must have said it wrong," Violet chuckled to Mary and Matthew, then walked away.
"Poor Granny," Mary sighed. "She isn't used to be challenged."
"Neither is Mother," Matthew smiled. "I think we should let them settle it between them, darling."
Mary smiled as he put his hand to the small of her back and guided her away to another table of flowers.
"So are you interested in flowers? Besides Mr. Molesley's roses that is?" Mary asked.
"I'm interested in the Village," Matthew replied. "And I'm very interested in the Earl's eldest daughter."
Mary blushed. "That's an intriguing coincidence. I've heard a rumour that she's very interested in you as well."
"Well perhaps she could be convinced to come inspect the cottages with me later, then?"
"I'm afraid not, darling. Mama won't allow it without a chaperone, and I don't think I could bear yet another afternoon with someone circling about our heads. Besides, you know what all work did for Jack."
"Are you offering your assistance to ensure I don't become a dull boy, Mary? Are you willing to show me some…excitement?"
Mary blushed again. "The Village Hall is hardly the place for being so bold, Matthew."
"It's all right. We'll play tonight when we have more privacy," he said.
Mary swallowed. "Will we?"
"Yes. I'm coming to dinner. Your father asked specifically. Is it in aid of anything?"
"Edith," Mary said dismissively. "It's dinner with some dreary neighbours, and I think now that I'm happily settled," Mary smiled at him, "Mama has moved on to finding a match for her."
"Dreary neighbours," Matthew repeated. "Will there be a suitor among them for Edith then?"
"Oh I don't know. Maybe," Mary shrugged. "It's Edith and Mama's problem in any event," she smiled again. "I'm spoken for."
"Good," Matthew grinned. "With dreary neighbours at dinner, that will make it far easier for me to shine by comparison."
"Have no fear, darling," Mary looked at him knowingly. "I promise that tonight I'll only have eyes for you."
"Mary, we're going," Violet called from across the Village Hall.
Mary leaned towards Matthew to allow him to kiss her cheek. As he pulled back, she took the opportunity to whisper to him.
"Make sure you finish all of your work with the cottages this afternoon, Matthew," she said quietly. "I intend to keep you busy tonight."
Matthew swallowed and Mary looked at him flirtatiously before turning and leaving with her Mama and Granny.
Crawley House, Downton Village, England, May 1913
"Lady Mary Crawley," Molesley announced as he came into the parlour and stepped to one side.
"Mary!" Isobel beamed, rising and squeezing her hands. "What a pleasant surprise."
"Cousin Isobel," Mary smiled. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Of course not, darling," Matthew smiled. He waited for both Mary and his Mother to take their seats before he sat back down.
"I wanted to come here personally and show you that the wedding banns have been published." Mary placed that morning's edition of the Times on the coffee table.
"Lovely," Isobel said as she looked over the page. "It's just as lovely as I imagined it when Cora showed me the draft."
"What do you think, Matthew?" Mary smiled.
"It's impressive," Matthew smirked. "I never would have believed that my engagement would be worthy of prime space in the Times."
"Matthew," Isobel scolded him. "You know that this is very important for the entire family. Show your fiancée and the event itself the proper respect."
Mary bit her bottom lip and looked away, trying desperately to hold back her laughter.
"Yes, Mother," Matthew sighed.
"That's better," Isobel said pointedly. "Now, I'm off to see Dr. Clarkson. I expect I may be late for dinner so the two of you can make your own arrangements I trust? Either speak to Mrs. Bird or you can go up to Downton Abbey, Matthew."
"You're leaving?" Matthew rose from his chair, looking at his Mother in surprise.
"Yes, I have important matters to attend to," Isobel replied, before smiling knowingly at Mary. "But don't worry, as far as Cousin Cora is concerned, I've been here all afternoon."
Mary blushed.
Matthew mumbled a goodbye to his Mother and sat back down after she left the room, closing the door behind her.
"That was very kind of your mother," Mary said quietly, taking a sip of her tea.
"She's probably warned Molesley to leave us alone," Matthew smiled.
Mary looked down at her tea. Being with Matthew without a chaperone had become strangely enticing for them.
Matthew tentatively rose from his chair and crossed to the sofa. Mary took a breath as he sat down next to her. She looked up at his smiling face as he brought his arm around her waist. She leaned towards him and they kissed chastely.
"What do you really think of the banns being published?" Mary asked.
"I think it's perfect," Matthew said quickly.
"Matthew…" Mary said, unconvinced.
"There are still parts of this life that I am getting used to," Matthew explained. "But seeing our names in print together is quite satisfying actually."
"Satisfying?" Mary laughed. "In what way?"
"Well I like to imagine angry dukes and viscounts across England reading the news that you are finally all mine and crying into their expensive frilly handkerchiefs," Matthew smiled.
Mary laughed freely. "Is that so? Rather pleased with yourself that you've put one over on all of Society, are you?"
"Just a little bit," Matthew smiled, pulling her closer. "What about you? I know you've dreamed of seeing your announcement in the newspaper for so long. Is it everything you expected?"
"No," Mary shook her head. "It's not even close."
"How so?" Matthew asked, suddenly nervous.
"It's not that I'm disappointed," Mary assured him with a quick kiss. "My marriage was always supposed to be for a greater purpose – to secure Downton, or my future, or to make a match to enhance the profile of our family. It was never about me, really."
Matthew nodded, quite familiar with Mary's horrible situation.
"So seeing my name next to the name of the man that I love," Mary smiled. "Next to the name of the man who will be my husband, the most wonderful man I know, well, you must understand Matthew, this isn't at all what I thought my life would be. It's far better than I imagined."
"Glad to hear it," Matthew smiled as he kissed her.
Downton Abbey, England, August 1913
"We can no longer expect to be as productive using horses and manpower alone. The future is in mechanization and we must adapt or be left behind."
"Sir Anthony," Edith replied with a demure smile. "I should love to see one of the new harvesters, if you would ever let me. We don't have one here."
"I should be delighted, Lady Edith," Sir Anthony nodded to her.
Mary rolled her eyes as she took a sip of wine.
"Sir Anthony seems nice enough," Matthew whispered.
"If you want to talk farming and foxes by the hour," Mary said with a raised eyebrow. "His particular brand of charm is working on Edith though, not surprisingly."
Matthew smirked. "You shouldn't be so unkind to Edith, darling. She has fewer advantages than you."
"Fewer?" Mary giggled. "She has none at all."
Matthew sighed and shook his head.
"What she doesn't have in particular," Mary continued, looking at him intently, "is someone to bring out the best in her."
"And you do?" Matthew teased.
"Despite my own folly, yes, I do. And I have no intention of letting him go."
"Good," Matthew smirked, taking another sip of wine.
"Oh, Good God!" Sir Anthony cried.
Mary jumped in her chair at the outburst and all eyes turned towards Sir Anthony.
"I do apologize, Lady Grantham, but I had a mouthful of salt," he explained.
Cora was livid as she ordered everyone to stop eating and commanded Carson to take the dessert plates away immediately. She apologized to Sir Anthony profusely, glancing across the table at Edith as she did so.
Mary covered her mouth with her napkin, trying to contain herself.
Matthew waited patiently for her to glance his way.
Mary knew he was staring at her and knew his exact intention. Despite suspecting that her fiancé wanted to goad her, she looked over at him.
Matthew covered his own mouth with his napkin and focused his eyes on hers. He raised an eyebrow and feigned a retching motion with his mouth.
Mary laughed quietly, barely containing her glee as Matthew chuckled at his victory.
The Royal Normal College and Academy for the Blind, Upper Norwood, London, England, March 1911
"This is Lady Mary Crawley," Sir Campbell beamed, introducing her to his companion. "Lady Mary, Robert Armitage, a dear friend. You know, Robert, Lady Mary volunteers here each year and the students adore her. Sadly this is the last term she is gracing us with her presence. We are all very angry about that, I assure you."
"Sir Campbell, please," Mary blushed. "You're far too generous."
"Outrageous!" Mr. Armitage exclaimed loudly. "I've heard you do splendid work here, Lady Mary. Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!"
Mary quirked her eyebrow slightly at the strange compliment, then smiled graciously. "Well, we were just about to dismiss the students for lunch, but we can have them give a short demonstration if Mr. Armitage would like."
"Outrageous!" Mr. Armitage clapped. "That would be most welcome, Lady Mary, thank you. Outrageous!"
Mary bit back her laughter and gathered her students quickly. They ran through an a cappella verse and Sir Campbell and Mr. Armitage were mightily impressed.
"Well, we shall not keep the students from their lunch. That was outrageous, all of you! Outrageous!" Mr. Armitage beamed, thanking everyone before departing with Sir Campbell.
Mary and Matthew saw the students off to lunch, then wandered outside to a small picnic table. The sun was bright and a slight breeze was pleasantly blowing as they ate.
"How's your sandwich?" Mary asked absentmindedly, the thought of their first kiss and their private dinner together still very much on her mind.
"It's outrageous," Matthew smirked.
Mary laughed heartily.
Downton Abbey, England, August 1913
Mary sat down on the sofa. Edith and Sybil took chairs and Cora sat on the settee. It was understood by now, after several snarls from Mary over the past weeks, that the place next to her on the sofa was reserved for Matthew when he came through after dinner.
"It seems hard that poor Sir Anthony had to pay the price for the latest intrigue downstairs," Edith sighed sadly.
"Good God!" Mary mimicked. Sybil laughed.
"As for you giggling with Cousin Matthew, it was pathetic," Edith spat.
"Oh, poor Edith. I'm sorry that I have someone to laugh with, but just be glad that we weren't laughing at you for once," Mary smiled.
"You were very helpful, Edith, looking after Sir Anthony," Cora said, looking pointedly at Mary before continuing to compliment Edith. "You made quite the impression, dear."
"I enjoyed it," Edith smiled. "We seem to have a lot to talk about."
"Oh spare me your boasting please," Mary rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you do have a lot to talk about because you certainly don't have much in common."
"Who are you to say?" Edith said dismissively. "I find Sir Anthony's company quite pleasing, actually."
"Talking about harvesters?" Mary said incredulously. "You must be more boring than even I imagined if you're content discussing such things with a man Papa's age."
"Mary!" Cora scolded.
"Fine," Mary said. "A man practically Papa's age."
Edith looked away in disgust. Cora sighed. Sybil smirked.
And Mary looked at the door contentedly, waiting for her fiancé to arrive.
The Royal Normal College and Academy for the Blind, Upper Norwood, London, England, March 1911
Matthew groaned. It started as a quiet sigh somewhere in his stomach, but by the time it reached his throat, he groaned in pleasure as Mary's lips and tongue caressed his own.
His lips moved quickly along her chin and jaw before finding her pulse along her pale throat. He kissed her there, her soft skin and sweet scent intoxicating him.
"Matthew," Mary purred, her hand moving up into his hair and her head tilting back. "We should stop," she breathed, despite showing no intention of pushing him away.
Matthew instantly stilled and pulled back. Mary gasped at the loss of contact, the heat of his body now too far away.
"I'm sorry, Mary," Matthew stammered, his face reddening comically. "I didn't mean to take liberties with you that I have no right to…"
"Matthew," Mary interrupted him, running her gloved hand across his cheek. "I didn't mean we should stop because I want to," she smiled. "I was only saying we have to be careful that we aren't caught."
"Oh," Matthew answered, before he smiled widely in realization that Mary did not find anything lacking in his kisses. "Oh…" he repeated as he grasped her meaning.
"Fraternization among the staff is strictly prohibited, Matthew," Mary continued. "We wouldn't want to cause a scandal, would we?"
"No, certainly not," Matthew agreed. A smirk slowly grew across his lips. "At least not without making it worth all the fuss, anyway."
"Matthew!" Mary's eyes went wide. She shook her head at his wicked smile. "I didn't imagine you had such a roguish side, Mr. Crawley," she teased.
"I don't," Matthew said firmly. "Or rather I didn't, until I met you."
Mary blushed.
"Allow me to escort you out to your motor, Lady Mary?" Matthew smiled, motioning towards the door.
Mary laughed and followed him, being careful to drop her arm from his before reaching the front door to the College.
"Mary, I just want you to know," Matthew whispered before opening the door for her. "I know you'll think me foolish, that we barely know each other, but I…I've never felt this way about anyone before."
Mary gazed into his blue eyes and grinned.
"Oh, my darling, me too. Me too."
Matthew smiled in astonishment and swallowed. "You called me darling," he said gleefully.
"I did," Mary nodded. She reached up and kissed him quickly before walking out the door to the waiting car.
Downton Abbey, England, August 1913
"Ah, I've been waiting for you," Mary smiled widely. "There's a book that I think is just the thing to catch your interest."
Matthew smiled, then frowned in confusion as Mary walked past him and drew Sir Anthony over to the side table.
"I'm intrigued. What is it to be?" Sir Anthony asked.
"Well, it's a book we have here in the library and…"
"I was very taken by what you were saying over dinner about…" Edith tried to interject as she approached them.
"This is very intriguing, Lady Mary!" Sir Anthony exclaimed, looking at the book closely. "This is exactly what we have to be aware of."
Matthew was dumbstruck. He could scarcely believe his eyes as Mary and Edith appeared to be fighting for Sir Anthony's attention.
"She must have drank more wine than I thought," Matthew shook his head.
"I'm afraid this is far too advanced for me, Sir Anthony," Mary admitted. "However I know Edith is quite interested in this sort of thing. Perhaps you could share your opinions with her. You'd be delighted to hear them wouldn't you Edith?" Mary turned to her sister and smiled benevolently.
"Yes…yes, I certainly would," Edith said in shock, scarcely believing what Mary was doing.
"Well I shall leave you to it, then," Mary smiled. "Excuse me, Sir Anthony, but you have a far more worthy companion to debate with in my sister."
"Yes, well, thank you, Lady Mary," Sir Anthony swallowed nervously. "Well, Lady Edith, I am at your service. Perhaps we should start at the beginning?"
Edith smiled coquettishly and looked over the book with him.
Mary bit her lower lip and smiled as she crossed the room and returned to Matthew.
"Darling, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," she smiled.
"No, not at all, Mary," Matthew replied, his eyes wide as if he was seeing his fiancée for the first time. "I must say I am speechless at your support of Edith."
"Oh, it's nothing," Mary shook her head. "Sir Anthony has simply thrown me aside for someone far more interested in harvesters and tractors," she smirked.
"Would you be so kind to give a jilted woman comfort this evening, Matthew?" Mary whispered to him.
"I shall gladly be your consolation prize," Matthew answered.
"Papa, Matthew and I are going to the library," Mary announced.
"Very well," Robert smiled as the couple left the room.
"Mary is more mature than we sometimes give her credit for," Robert said as Cora played bridge.
"What do you mean, darling?" Cora asked.
"She and Matthew are getting along famously. And she's not nearly as childish and petty as we sometimes think," Robert said, his eyes looking over at Edith and Sir Anthony engrossed in conversation.
"No, she's not," Cora agreed, following his gaze and smiling as her middle daughter received some long overdue attention.
The Crystal Palace Park, London, England, March 1911
Mary's hands were shaking. She held them crossed together over her stomach, and those who walked past her would not have noticed anything out of the ordinary about her. She was completely changed though, and she didn't yet understand whether it was for better or worse.
She licked her lips as she walked. Last night was…amazing. Even that word, normally a sign of hyperbole and exaggeration that she detested, did not do justice to her time with Matthew.
She peeked to her left and looked away just as quickly. He was walking at her side, as he had for the past week and a half. It was their usual lunch walk to the park. The sun was bright as usual. The air was crisp as usual. The usual signs were present that Spring was arriving. They took their usual route. There was nothing usual about them today though. Everything was different.
Mary could not forget the feel of his lips even if she tried, and she had not done much trying in the hours since. She had looked at his lips throughout dinner, stolen glances at them as they walked back to the College, and savoured the feel of them when he kissed her cheek to bid her goodnight. Mary was not particularly experienced with kissing. She was a proper Lady after all. Still, she thought she was adept enough to know the difference between a proper kiss and the feel of a cold fish, for example, and Matthew Crawley was certainly on the right side of that scale.
Now though, Mary found she was at a loss for words. What should she say? What would he say? Would he want to kiss her again? She certainly wanted to, regardless of whether that was permissible or not. But what was the point? She was leaving at the end of month. He knew that. She would go back to Downton and prepare for her debut in a few short months. What was the use of becoming involved with a man when she was soon to be presented and would likely be engaged by the end of the Summer?
"Mary," his voice startled her from her thoughts. She turned and looked at him.
"I feel I should apologize," he said carefully.
Apologize? Mary frowned.
"For what, exactly?" she asked.
"For last night," he said.
"I see," Mary said, looking away. Anger and disappointment flashed inside of her.
"I must apologize because, you see, I feel I enjoyed last night far more than should be considered proper."
Mary's eyes widened and she looked back at him.
"I'm afraid I'm not very good at flirting, Mary," Matthew said, somewhat embarrassed. "I know with your Season approaching you've been taught how to properly deal with suitors and how to speak without speaking and how to touch without touching, but I don't know how to do any of that."
Mary blushed and pursed her lips together, trying rather unsuccessfully to keep a smile from showing through.
"I certainly wouldn't blame you if you didn't think of me in the same way. I'm a lawyer from Manchester, not a Duke or an Earl or a Baron or anything like that. I just…well, I thought of you constantly last evening and I've been thinking constantly about you all morning, and I feel I'm going to burst if I don't tell you how much I enjoyed your company last night, and how I still enjoy it now."
His smile was partly sheepish, partly gleeful, and entirely adorable.
"Thank you, Matthew," Mary said quietly. "I've been…thinking…about you as well."
Matthew swallowed. "You have?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes," she dared look at his eyes. "I…enjoyed last night also."
Matthew grinned.
"You do realize though that my time here is limited, I'm only working through to the end of the month, and then I'm leaving the City. I won't be back in London until the Summer."
"For your Season," Matthew said.
"Yes," Mary nodded. Her stomach fluttered as she spoke. Why was this conversation becoming so difficult suddenly? Matthew admitted he thought about her and enjoyed her company. That was precisely the sort of thing that she was supposed to relish, wasn't it? She was supposed to demurely accept his compliment and not reveal anything in return. That was how her Mama taught her to act towards potential suitors. Matthew wasn't even a potential suitor, so why was she so defenceless against his kind words and his adoring gaze?
"Well that gives us just under three weeks, then," Matthew smiled.
"Excuse me?"
"We have very limited time," Matthew explained. "So we should enjoy our remaining days together as much as possible. That is, if you want to," he bit his lip nervously.
"You aren't bothered by it?"
"Of course I am!" Matthew answered too quickly. "It does bother me. It bothers me a great deal. Just as it bothers me that I cannot introduce myself to your parents, or call upon you formally, or see you outside of College hours. But I would be far more bothered to spend the rest of the month with you and not talk with you, or laugh with you, or even flirt terribly poorly with you. Life is a series of moments, Mary, and if the only moments I shall have with you are for this month alone, then I intend to live each one as fully as possible."
Mary grinned. She could not stop herself.
"Very well, Matthew," she smiled. "Let us create some moments together."
Downton Abbey, England, August 1913
"You honestly thought I was flirting with Strallan?" Mary whispered, kissing Matthew's neck. "Right in front of you? Honestly, Matthew."
She nibbled at the skin above his collar, drawing a deep breath from him as she pushed him against the bookshelves.
"I…" Matthew gasped, his hands clutching her back and pressing her against him dangerously. "I was just at a loss to understand why you were…talking…to him," he groaned as she licked the sensitive spot below his ear.
"I was only doing what Edith was too scared to do," Mary smiled, nipping at his ear lobe, then moving back to his cheek and his open mouth. "If left to her to take the initiative, Strallan would be halfway to the grave by the time they went on a proper date. Or I suppose in his case, it would be more accurate to say three quarters. He passed halfway years ago."
Mary's gloved hands slid under his jacket, feeling his firm chest and ghosting down along his sides. Matthew growled against her lips as her hands playfully grasped his buttocks.
"Mary," he tried to scold her but it came out as a sigh. "You shouldn't be so…" he swallowed as she kissed his face, "unkind to Edith and Sir Anthony."
"I don't want to talk about Strallan anymore," Mary whispered, boldly pressing against his lips, her tongue sliding against his deliciously.
Matthew groaned and swept her up in his arms. She held on to his neck, kissing him hard as he carried her quickly to the sofa. He collapsed on to it, holding Mary across his lap as they kissed. Mary squirmed against him, drawing another groan from his throat. They were holding and grabbing at clothing and skin, kissing each other feverishly as the locked doors and the drawn curtains of the darkened library kept the outside world away from them.
Mary broke their kiss, pressing her forehead against his. They both gasped for air, their heartbeats racing. Matthew continued to hold her, the silk of her dress and the warmth of her body spread across his torso.
"Matthew," Mary sighed, trying to slow her breathing. "Do you…" she swallowed. "Do you want me?"
Despite the lack of light, Matthew saw her bite her bottom lip nervously. Mary saw Matthew's eyes widen. He licked his lips.
"Yes," Matthew whispered. "Yes, Mary, I want you…desperately."
"Then maybe we should…" Mary began, her voice catching.
"I love you, Mary," Matthew said quickly, pressing his lips to hers firmly but chastely. "Let's head back."
Mary looked at him, his blue eyes showing an eerie glow in the darkness.
"Yes," she smiled, her heart bursting for him. "We should head back."
Village Hall, Downton Village, England, August 1913
"How did Edith leave things with Sir Anthony?" Matthew asked.
"Vague and uncertain, just like her prospects generally," Mary replied easily.
"That's not particularly kind, darling," Matthew teased. "She does look rather pleased with herself today," he noted, looking at Edith standing by her Mama.
"I can't imagine why. Unless Sir Anthony has already promised her a tour of one of his cherished harvesters. And even if he did, she should stay away from those clothes and that hat otherwise she'll never attract him, or any man."
Matthew shook his head.
"And now for the first three," Violet called as the audience waited for her to read off the winners of the Flower Show.
"The suspense is palpable," Matthew whispered.
"Shh," Mary smiled. "Don't steal Granny's thunder."
"I just hope she gets on with it," Matthew huffed.
Mary frowned slightly and looked at him. "Why are you in such a hurry, darling?"
"I was hoping we could get away," he smirked.
"I'm intrigued. But what do you intend to do about a chaperone?"
"You don't want one?" Matthew teased.
They applauded politely as Violet awarded the third place ribbon to one of the villagers.
"Certainly not," Mary said. "Not for what I have in mind."
Matthew swallowed. "Then I'll need to find a way for us to leave without one."
Violet called for attention as she prepared to read the winner of the Grantham Cup.
"Mr William Molesley…for his Comtesse Cabarrus rose," Violet announced.
Matthew and Mary looked at each other incredulously then applauded with everyone else.
"Bravo! Well done! Bravo!" Isobel applauded heartily.
"Robert," Matthew said, leaning towards the Earl. "I have one last cottage to inspect. I was hoping to show Mary, if you would permit it."
"Certainly, Matthew," Robert smiled, looking up at his Mama presenting the Grantham Cup to Mr. Molesley Sr. "You're joining us for dinner tonight, I trust?"
"Definitely," Matthew affirmed.
"Very well then. Off you go," Robert replied. He left Matthew and went up to congratulate Mr Molesley Sr.
"Shall we?" Matthew smiled, holding his arm out for Mary.
She took his arm and laughed as they made their way out of the Hall.
"How did you manage that?" Mary asked.
"Finding the right moment to ask is key," Matthew smiled. "In this case, your Papa was so shocked that Cousin Violet didn't win, and he was so genuinely happy for Mr. Molesley Sr., that he didn't remember or care about the need for a chaperone."
"You do have your moments," Mary smirked.
They left the Village Hall and walked down the road towards the cottages, arm in arm.
"Darling, I am impressed by the work being done here, but I don't think it was entirely necessary for us to inspect the place precisely at this moment," Mary said charitably as he led her through the cottage.
"I disagree," Matthew smiled, escorting her past various construction materials before coming to a closed door. "Now, I have something to show you of particular interest."
He opened the door and ushered Mary into a larger room. Mary smiled.
A large sofa was placed opposite the small fireplace. A picnic basket sat on a small table, with two wine glasses and a bottle beside it.
"Will this be a feature of all of the cottages?" Mary asked as she went over and sat down on the sofa.
"Only this one. Only for special occasions," Matthew smiled.
He opened the wine and poured Mary a glass. He took a tray from the picnic basket and placed cheese and grapes and pastries onto it.
"A veritable feast," Mary laughed, sipping her wine.
"The drama of the Flower Show built up my appetite," Matthew said to her with a raise eyebrow.
Mary put down her wine glass and leaned towards him. He fed her a grape and she laughed, resting her head on his shoulder as they sat back on the sofa.
"This was lovely, Matthew, thank you."
He stroked his fingers along her cheek, then kissed her softly, their lips meeting together several times before her hand went into his hair and his hands went to her back and hip, pulling her towards him.
"Matthew," Mary sighed. "Are you sure that you're all right with…"
"I'm sure," Matthew said immediately. "We waited this long, a few more months is nothing."
Mary smiled broadly as he kissed her neck. "I don't know, Matthew. Waiting seems a harsh torture at the moment."
Matthew kissed her lips as he massaged the nape of her neck with his hand. "We'll just have to find something to distract us in the meanwhile," he breathed.
"Mmm, yes," Mary smiled between kisses. "I may know just the thing."