Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, May 1914
"No, Matthew," she shook her head, her hands moving between them and resting against his chest. She moved her leg and hooked it around his waist.
Matthew frowned slightly in confusion.
"I don't just need you, darling. I want you, desperately," she declared.
Matthew's eyes widened in surprise as Mary pushed against his chest and rolled him onto his back suddenly. Stretching herself over him, she pressed herself against him and smirked in triumph.
"Now, darling, no more talking," Mary smirked, kissing his neck and moving against his body with singular intent.
Chapter 23:
Private Villa, La Bocca Beach, Cannes, France, October 1913
"What's expected of me?" Matthew asked, folding his newspaper and dropping it idly on the nightstand.
Mary did not look over from her vanity mirror. "What do you think? To do the same as Papa does whenever we host parties."
"To stand in the background and pretend that I know everyone?" Matthew smirked.
Mary laughed as she held her pearl necklace up to her neck, evaluating whether it gave her the look she desired. "Something like that. Hosting is for the wives, darling. You only need to look handsome and be polite."
"Do you think I can manage that?" Matthew asked with a grin.
Mary put her necklace down and looked over at him. She quirked her eyebrows teasingly as she took in his languid form, his bare chest and arms slightly tinged from the sun, his blond hair adorably still tousled and the blankets strewn about his legs. The French Riviera clearly agreed with her husband. He seemed so carefree here, so relaxed, so comfortable, so uninhibited, Mary thought with a slight blush.
"I think you'll do," Mary said with feigned indifference. "Once you clean up a bit."
Matthew laughed.
"For the next years, Mama and Papa will still represent the family," Mary continued, turning back to her jewellery box. "There will be more eyes upon us, scrutinizing whether we are worthy successors or not, but we won't officially be hosting anything."
"And unofficially?" Matthew asked.
"Unofficially, Mama wants me to help her with planning things, take on a larger role in the house," Mary said plainly. "She actually was mentioning we should plan one of the parties during Sybil's Season. It won't be the official one, but one of the lesser ones during the week. It will still be Mama and Papa's party in name, but it will give us a chance to test things out, as it were."
"That sounds wonderful," Matthew smiled. "You will be outstanding, my darling, I know it."
"Don't think you can just show up," Mary teased, fitting a bracelet around her wrist and looking at her reflection in the mirror. "If we're going to plan something, I want it to be unique and different. It should be grand, to show everyone what we're capable of, something to get people talking."
"Hmm, I may have an idea for a theme," Matthew said lightly.
Mary looked over at him pointedly. "You can't have a pub night or a Manchester United themed party during a London Season."
"Then I'm afraid I'm all out of ideas, then," Matthew retorted playfully.
Mary laughed and stood up from her vanity. She leaned over her assorted creams and toiletries, setting aside several bottles in anticipation of calling for Anna.
"Don't trouble yourself, darling. I'll think of something. I just have been to so many parties during the Season and they all seem the same. The same themes, the same colours, even the same food sometimes. It's all well done but it's somewhat boring," Mary continued, her eyes focused on the bottles in front of her. "People will know that we were unofficially involved in hosting this party, so I want something that announces us to Society properly. I want to make an impression that will be memorable…"
Mary gasped as she suddenly felt her husband behind her, his warm hands circled her waist deftly and pulled the sash of her robe free and parted the garment from her bare skin.
"Matthew!" Mary hissed.
His hands were inside her robe and fondling her in an instant and her mind reeled. The silk garment spilled off her shoulders and fell to the floor. She felt the heat of him behind her, his fingers moving on her body and his lips insistent against her throat all at once. Her hands shot forward on to the vanity, scattering the bottles in front of her as she struggled to stay upright. Matthew pressed against her back, his hands and lips enflaming her arousal.
"What are you doing?" she breathed, her head falling back against his shoulder and her eyes shutting closed.
"Giving you inspiration, darling," Matthew growled.
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, June 1914
"No!" Mary said, casting a warning frown at her husband.
"And why not?" Matthew demanded with a frown of his own. He felt like a child whining for a treat, but he did not care.
Mary laughed devilishly. "You're the one who suggested the idea for a Masquerade Ball. And at a Masquerade Ball, one is not supposed to know who is behind the mask. That's part of the fun."
"I promise to feign confusion once we are downstairs. But right now I want to see you in your gown and mask," he huffed.
"Anna will be here any moment to help me get ready. You will have to wait until later like everyone else," Mary said plainly, looking through her earrings.
"This is completely unfair," Matthew pouted. "You know very well that you'll immediately recognize me, even with the mask. It isn't as if I can cover all of this up," he pointed a finger at his blond hair.
Mary smiled at his reflection through her mirror. "Well you could wear a hat."
"Absolutely not!" Matthew replied. "That would be even more obvious. Besides, it wouldn't match my suit."
Mary rose and smiled at his frowning face. She crossed the floor to his chair and delicately sat down on his lap, running her hands across his shoulders.
"Don't be so childish. You must behave," she whispered, running a hand through his hair. "Or I will not misbehave for you later after the party."
"After the party?" Matthew grumbled, looking into her eyes. "What about during?"
"Whoever thought you were boring and the model of propriety," Mary laughed, "clearly never married you."
"I am the model of propriety," he smiled back, leaning forward and kissing her softly. "It's you that brings out my playful side."
Mary laughed throatily as he pressed a kiss to her neck. She slapped his arm as his hand attempted to move from her hip to her front and higher.
"Matthew! You'll make me untidy!" she scolded him.
"Good. Then you can change into your mask and gown for me," he breathed, kissing her neck where it met her collarbone.
Mary swallowed before pushing against him and rising off his lap. She smiled as he groaned in frustration. Before he could pull her back, Anna knocked at the door.
"Come in, Anna," Mary smiled at her husband teasingly. As her lady's maid appeared, Mary turned to her. "Your timing is impeccable."
"Indeed," Matthew spat, rising from the chair and nodding towards Mary and Anna. "I'll see both of you downstairs, then."
"Yes, sir. Enjoy the party, sir," Anna looked perplexed as Matthew walked away and closed the door behind him.
"So I take it that Mr. Matthew has not seen your gown or mask?" the maid smiled.
"He almost did. Thankfully I kept him at bay. It was his idea for this party, and I think it's going to be a smashing success, so I want to remind him of his place," Mary said.
Anna went to her closet and retrieved Mary's new gown and mask. "You will certainly stand out, Milady," she smiled as she set them to the side and began brushing Mary's hair.
"It should be quite an evening," Mary agreed, smiling at Anna through the vanity mirror.
Guests showed up at Grantham House and once invitations were confirmed, moved into the ballroom with masks set about their faces. While some were easy to discern through hair colour and tone of voice, others chose to play along with the theme of mystery. The women were aloof and quiet, giving only small smiles and teasing glances from beneath their masked lashes. Some men were stoic, while others used the anonymity of their masks to gaze lustfully at the women in their gowns. The decadence of the event combined with the grandeur of the Season and the fact that most people's minds were focused on establishing matches, either for themselves or their children, created a mood of inhibition, which was exactly what Matthew and Mary intended – a night where anything was possible.
"Mary! Are you ready! We need to go down!" Sybil grinned as she came into Mary's room.
"Darling, it's your Season," Mary replied as Anna adjusted her gown. "You need to be reserved and ladylike, you know."
"She's practically bursting," Edith laughed. "I think she's looking more forward to tonight than she did her own debut party."
"Well the debut was traditional and filled with custom and convention," Sybil said defensively. "Tonight will be far more fun!"
"Obviously," Mary smiled as Anna finished and she turned to her face her sisters. "But you must remain calm, Sybil. It's still the Season and the chase is still on."
"And who is hunting you?" Edith smirked.
"There's only one who matters," Mary shot back with a smile. She fit her mask in place and glanced quickly at her reflection to ensure all was as she wanted. "And I intend to make him fight for his prize."
The three Crawley sisters laughed and made their way to the door.
There was always dancing at these parties, with young and old waltzing their way across the large floor of the ballroom. Thanks to the theme however, a further dimension of intrigue hung in the air. As couples paired off with some not entirely sure of their partner's identity, there was an excitement and intrigue that no other Season party could capture.
"I have to admit I had many reservations when you first told me about the theme for this party," Alex chuckled. "But it is quite the soirée you've created here."
"High praise coming from you," Matthew replied. "Since I know you've had more than your fair share of memorable soirées in your time."
"Even some that I would rather forget," Alex admitted, taking a sip of his drink.
Matthew laughed.
"Where's Mary?" Alex asked.
"I'm not quite sure, to be honest. She wouldn't tell me what she was wearing and it seems there are a number of women here tonight wearing blue or burgundy, which were the colours I guessed Mary's gown would be," Matthew frowned.
"Well I suppose that's all part of the fun then, isn't it?" Alex smirked.
"Easy for you to say. I'd rather know which one of these masked temptresses is my wife before I go and make a fool of myself," Matthew sighed.
Matthew scanned the crowd once more. He had hoped that his wife's hair or pale skin would make it easy for him to spot her, but he found it was of no assistance. As it was summer, many of the women were foregoing corsets, meaning that Matthew's familiarity with Mary's body and shape was also of no assistance. There were many married women wearing tiaras as well, which also did not help him. He also supposed that she had instructed Anna to do her hair in a style that she did not usually wear, which made it more difficult for him. He shook his head at his own foolishness. The Masquerade Ball idea was a brilliant one and guests were enjoying themselves, but the entire point of holding this themed party was so he could see Mary in a fetching gown and mask, and now he could not tell the difference between dozens of women.
Matthew smiled as he saw Cora standing off to the side of the dance floor. She beamed as she accepted the well wishes and congratulations from a crowd of friends. For their first unofficial party, Matthew was certain that Mary had impressed her parents thoroughly, which was no easy feat he knew.
Matthew chuckled as his eyes roamed beyond Cora and saw Cousin Violet holding court on the sofa, surrounded by other women who did not care for dancing. There was something rather comical about the Dowager Countess wearing a mask with her evening gown, and Matthew was again grateful for her support. He felt as if he could count on Cousin Violet more than anyone else in the family, strangely enough.
Matthew frowned as his gaze came around to the other side of the room. Cousin Robert was in deep discussion with three other masked men. The Earl's posture was rigid, leaning slightly forward as he seemed to speaking in hushed tones.
"Alex," Matthew said, his eyes remaining on Robert. "Those men speaking with Lord Grantham over there."
"I see them," Alex replied, looking over. "You don't think they're discussing a match for Lady Sybil, do you?"
"No, I don't," Matthew said with narrow eyes.
"Leave it to me," Alex said, taking another sip of his drink. "Get back to trying to find your wife."
"Thank you," Matthew said genuinely.
"We'll talk later," Alex replied, leaving and crossing the floor. Robert and his companions turned and left for the terrace. Matthew watched as Alex followed.
Office of Harvell, Carter & Lewis, London, England, November 1911
"And sign again here and here," Matthew pointed patiently at the documents, holding them flat on the table as Lord Gerrard signed.
Alex smiled as the papers were completed. Matthew and Lord Gerrard both rose from the table. Lord Gerrard's attendants and advisors seated behind him also stood.
"Congratulations, Lord Gerrard," Matthew nodded. "Your company now is the exclusive representative and distributor for Corralls Coal for the Isle of Man."
"Excellent!" Lord Gerrard smiled, shaking Matthew's hand enthusiastically. "You know, young man, I have wanted to return to my father's home for years and there was never a proper business opportunity to justify moving back there. Now that every Manx man is buying coal from us, I can go back to my family home as a conquering hero. This transaction has restored my family. Thank you, Matthew. I cannot tell you what this means."
"We're pleased to be of service," Matthew nodded. "Besides, Alex and I just fill out the papers. It's you who does all the real work."
"Nonsense!" Lord Gerrard laughed, looking at Alex. "Negotiating with them has been absolute hell! We never would have had a deal if not for the two of you intervening."
"Don't look at me," Alex held up his hands. "It was Matthew who did most of it. I only made the introductions."
"Well, I am elated," Lord Gerrard smiled. "And I believe I have lost our bet, Matthew?"
"It wasn't a gamble, Lord Gerrard," Matthew smiled. "Merely a creative way to properly bill you for legal services."
"Which I shall gladly pay!" Lord Gerrard beamed.
Matthew took out the bill for legal services from his pile of documents and passed it to Lord Gerrard. Lord Gerrard looked it over quickly, then passed it to an adviser.
"Payment shall follow forthwith," he said. "Gentlemen, an absolute pleasure. Viscount Branksome was indeed correct. You are both exceptional at what you do."
"Our pleasure, Lord Gerrard," Alex nodded.
"You'll both join me at my club to celebrate, of course?" Lord Gerrard announced.
"Later this evening, yes," Matthew confirmed.
"Excellent. I have a number of people who would be very interested to meet you, Solicitor Crawley," Lord Gerrard smiled.
The men were escorted out of the boardroom and away from the office. Alex's assistant brought tea into the boardroom and served two cups to Alex and Matthew.
"Congratulations, Matthew," Alex smiled. "I could stop working for most of next year based on the takings from this deal."
"But you won't stop, surely?" Matthew asked in alarm.
"Of course not," Alex laughed. "By the way, how was your afternoon yesterday?"
Matthew smiled in recollection. "It was wonderful," he said quietly. "I took her to see the pictures."
"How progressive of you!" Alex laughed. "Speaking of progressive, I am very interested to know how you convinced Lord Gerrard to pay a percentage of his expected profits, rather than your usual hourly rates."
"It was simple, actually," Matthew answered, sipping his tea. "I explained to him what my hourly rate was, what the estimate was for the work to be completed, and the expected retainer he would be required to pay me in advance, as well as the portion to be shared with your firm. He was rather put out by the whole arrangement. He said he would bet nothing would come out of the negotiations so he was throwing his money away."
"And that's when you offered to work for free?" Alex smirked.
"I didn't say I would work for free," Matthew smiled. "I told him that I would take no retainer in advance, and that I would not bill him one guinea while the work was being done. If we were unsuccessful and the deal did not go ahead, he would only be responsible for our disbursements and I would waive my hourly fees. But, if we were successful, he would need to pay us a percentage, and I told him what that percentage could be in terms of an average of the reported profits for coal sales in the last three years on the Isle of Man."
"And he agreed because if you did not close the deal, he would only be out a negligible amount, and if you were successful, he would gladly pay a premium," Alex noted.
"Exactly. I think he was convinced we wouldn't succeed," Matthew said, sipping his tea.
"If you moved your practice to London as I have been imploring you to do, and if you were able to convince other clients to agree to similar terms, you could become a very rich man, Matthew," Alex smiled, quirking his eyebrows.
"My home is in Manchester, Alex. But I am not opposed to continuing to do some work here in the City. As for the fee arrangement, it's not ideal for every client," Matthew mused. "And I would still need the use of your office, your contacts and assistance."
"Which I am more than happy to provide," Alex nodded. "In return for a percentage of course."
Matthew laughed, reaching for a shortbread biscuit from the tray. "Of course."
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, June 1914
"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to dance?" a low voice murmured next to Matthew.
Matthew turned and gazed upon the masked woman with curiosity. The voice did not sound like Mary's, but she could easily have disguised it. The mask revealed nothing and this woman's hair was brushed to one side of her pale neck. Her skin did resemble the alabaster complexion of his wife, but he could not be sure. It was a desire among the aristocracy to keep their skin as light as possible. Her gown was a dark violet, and Matthew wondered if he should be looking at her in such a fashion if she was not in fact Mary. Keeping his wits about him, he met her eyes.
"I do enjoy dancing. But I am afraid that I am waiting for one particular partner this evening."
"Oh? And how would you know who she is at a Masquerade Ball?" the woman asked.
"She was invited. In fact, you could say she is the guest of honour," he answered.
"Truly?" the woman replied. She did not blush or show any emotion, and Matthew was left perplexed. "And what makes her so deserving of such attention?"
"Well you see this party was my idea actually. I came up with it because I wanted to give her a special evening. It is the least that she deserves and so I do hope she is here, for if she is not, I'm afraid I will not be dancing tonight," Matthew shook his head.
"That sounds rather drastic," she replied with a wry smile. "Surely the host of the party is entitled to a little harmless fun. It is a Masquerade after all. The mask allows us to lose all inhibitions and pretend to be someone else, at least for an evening."
"My lady," Matthew replied with a smile. "If you knew who I was waiting for, you would also know that I would never want to be anyone else but myself. For despite my faults, and they are many, as long as I am able to keep her regard, I am first among all men."
"How poetic," she said, swallowing slightly at his words. Matthew caught the movement, and looked closely at her, trying to decipher if it was Mary behind the mask, or if she had sent an interloper to test him.
"If you insist on only dancing with this mystery woman, then allow me to assist you in your quest. Describe her to me, so that I may somehow determine if she is here."
"The Lady that I wait for is the most beautiful woman in the world, and without a mask, she would be easy to spot. However, in the circumstances, look for someone with fair skin, chestnut hair that seems woven from silk, and dark brown eyes, a gaze that could freeze a man, or envelop him in warmth. Watch for her smile. It does not appear haphazardly or casually, and is only bestowed upon those deserving of seeing it light her beautiful face. If you are fortunate enough to find someone fitting that description, you will need to engage her in conversation, for only then will you discover her true beauty. You will need to be worthy of hearing her wit, smart enough to respond to her challenges, and humble enough to understand her brilliance. If you somehow pass through these trials, then you may catch a glimpse of her true character – that she is generous, and kind, loyal to those dear to her, and fierce and determined, never to be stifled or silenced, and demanding to be heard. Find this woman for me, and you shall be rewarded, not by any ransom from me, but rather from the pleasure of having been in her presence, if only for a short while," Matthew declared, grinning widely at the thought of his wife.
"Heavens, sir," the woman answered. "The way you carry on about this woman, one would think you were bewitched by some spell."
"No," Matthew answered with a smile. "It is not a spell, nor shall it pass fleetingly. You see I am deeply and irrevocably in love with this queen, and much happier would I be to simply stand here, hoping for her presence and be left waiting, than to share a dance with anyone else here tonight."
"I may have overheard a conversation involving this woman who you seek, then, now that you mention it," she said quietly.
"Indeed? And what did she say, pray?"
"She was speaking to close friends of hers it seems. They complimented her on the party and how lovely her new gown was. They said the theme of a Masquerade was wonderful and they had all manner of plans to enjoy themselves this evening while being protected by anonymity."
"A common desire," Matthew nodded.
"Of course. The Season can be so stifling and weighed down with convention. A chance to escape is a powerful temptation. This woman of whom I speak did not share in her friends' ambitions though. She said she had cleared her dance card for one gentleman in particular. I cannot know if this person was you without further information."
"How did she describe him then?" Matthew asked, his interest captivated.
"She was rather effusive actually," she smiled back. "She said this man was about your height, about your build. He had flaxen hair that she said had darkened somewhat over the years, but still had a boyish curl that came across his face from time to time. She said his heart was kind and that he was a champion of the downtrodden, almost to a fault. This man was clever, she said, as he seems to be one of the few capable of keeping up with her. But it was what she said about his relationship with his beloved that caught my attention."
"I am speechless with anticipation, my Lady," Matthew said.
"She said he was the only man who allowed her to be herself, her true self. Not the image she showed to Society, or to her family and friends. He let her be her, and never judged, nor tried to change her nature, even those qualities that she did not like in herself. He simply loved her, loved her unconditionally, and she said it was so very powerful this love that she was sometimes scared of it, scared of how anyone could care for her so deeply. She said she would catch herself looking at him as he slept, or as he read the paper, or drove his car, small moments when he wasn't aware of her gaze, and she would think to herself how incredibly lucky she was to have found him. It seems there was all manner of adversity that drove them apart for a time, but that somehow they had come back to each other through it all. I have heard many women gush about their men, my lord, oftentimes out of duty or obligation, but this woman, she seemed to sound ever so happy when speaking about this man. I never knew there could be a love such as theirs, but apparently I have been proven wrong."
Matthew smiled as he listened to the soliloquy and he caught traces of tears welling in the eyes of the speaker. He reached out and took her gloved hand. Stroking her fingers in his, he stepped closer. He reached up and placed his other hand at her mask, pausing as he looked into her eyes. Upon seeing her slight nod, he removed the mask delicately and grinned into Mary's smiling face.
"That isn't playing fair, Matthew," she whispered. "You were supposed to sweep me on to the dance floor and be wracked with guilt that you may be dancing with another woman. Showering me with praise was entirely underhanded."
"I will accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate, my darling."
Matthew leaned forward and kissed her, his lips tender and soft and Mary sighed against him as he pulled her into his arms. She replaced her mask once they came apart, not letting go of his hand. Wordlessly, they walked together to the dance floor, and shared a lovely slow waltz, dancing slightly more closely than was considered proper.
"It really is a lovely party," Mary sighed as she looked up at him. They continued dancing as one song led into another. Couples around them left the floor. New couples joined as the music continued. Mary and Matthew continued to moved together, swaying close to each other, the rest of the world forgotten.
"There is nowhere else I would rather be, darling," Matthew smiled at her, pulling her close as they continued to sway to the music.
Downton Abbey, England, June 1914
"Papa? Carson said you and Mama wanted to see me?" Mary asked as she came into the library.
"Yes, Mary," Robert nodded, turning away from his desk. "Come, sit down."
Mary took a seat on the sofa next to her mother. Robert came over and stood next to Cora.
"We have some wonderful news for you, Mary," Cora smiled.
"Your Mama is pregnant," Robert declared.
Mary's eyes widened in shock. "You're pregnant?" she asked.
"Yes," Cora nodded. "It's quite a surprise for all of us."
"A very pleasant surprise," Robert added.
"Congratulations, of course," Mary recovered, putting a polite smile on her face.
"Thank you, dear," Cora smiled, reaching out and squeezing Mary's hand.
"We just found out from Dr. Clarkson," Robert continued. "Your Mama was feeling ill when we were in London. We thought it was just a cold but it's actually morning sickness."
Mary smiled politely and remained silent.
"Now, it's still quite early, so it's impossible to know if it will be a girl or a boy," Cora explained.
Mary's eyes widened as recognition flared in her mind.
"We'll be happy regardless, of course," Robert said. "But, Mary, you must know that if it is…if we finally do have a son…"
"Then he will be your heir," Mary finished.
"That's right," Robert nodded.
Mary looked down at her lap, barely able to contain the emotions washing over her.
"This doesn't change anything," Cora said quietly. "Matthew is still a part of this family. He's your husband and we all love him very much."
"However," Robert interjected. "Until we know for certain, Matthew's status as the heir is in question. So, to be prudent, I think it best that he pull back a bit."
Mary's eyes narrowed and she looked up at her father. "What do you mean, Papa?"
"Matthew has many…ideas for the Estate, and how we do things around here. He doesn't understand our way of life. And how could he? He's been living here for less than two years," Robert huffed.
Mary's pulse quickened. She fought to keep her hands from balling into fists.
"There's no point for him to dig around and make suggestions and so on if he won't end up inheriting the place someday. I think it's wise if he steps back and gets some perspective. He can focus on his job. He can focus on his marriage. He can put his efforts to what is truly important," Robert finished.
"You are still in your first year of marriage, Mary," Cora agreed. "Matthew should devote more time to you, instead of keeping his nose buried in books all the time."
"Once Matthew hears your news," Mary said slowly. "He can decide what he wants to do. He doesn't suggest ideas because he's the heir, Papa. He does so for our benefit, with the best of intentions."
"I'm sure he thinks that," Robert sighed. "But I don't need his help. We've been doing perfectly well before he came along."
"What your Papa is saying, Mary," Cora said patiently, "is that as his wife, you should encourage Matthew to re-evaluate his priorities. Help him understand where his attention should properly be."
"You want me to tell Matthew to stop trying to improve the way things are done around here?" Mary asked incredulously.
"We want you to do your duty to this family by telling your husband what his duties are, and where his loyalties should lie!" Robert spat.
Mary frowned in surprise.
"We'll announce the news at dinner," Cora said, glancing at Robert in concern. "But we wanted to tell you first, Mary, so you could share in our happiness, and also so you can properly explain things to Matthew."
"This is a wonderful miracle," Robert smiled. "And we should all be thankful for it. This baby will help remind all of us that we are one family, and that all of us should be pulling in the same direction."
"If that will be all, I'll see you at dinner, then," Mary nodded, rising from the sofa. "Congratulations once again."
Cora and Robert watched their eldest daughter cross the room and leave, her quick footsteps echoing in the Great Hall as she went up to the bedroom she shared with her husband.
Mary closed the door behind her and crossed to the window. She looked out on to the grounds of her home, the sun shining brightly overhead. It was still mid-afternoon, and Matthew would not be home for another two hours. That was why her parents had chosen to tell her now. Her husband was at work and so they could recruit her to their cause while he was away.
Mary hugged herself, feeling slightly cold despite the warm weather. She turned away from the window and crossed to the fireplace. She looked at the framed photographs arranged on the mantle. Most were taken before she ever met Matthew, photographs of her Grandmamma and childhood friends, and family portraits they had sat for when Edith and Sybil were born.
Mary smiled as she reached their wedding portrait. The photographer had asked them to pose in certain ways, but Matthew always ignored him. In this portrait, just as in many others, while Mary was looking at the camera and smiling, he was gazing at her, his eyes bright and his grin adorable. She came to a more casual shot they had taken in Monaco, the day after he had surprised her by taking her to the Hotel de Paris and the Casino. Matthew had arranged for a photographer to come to their room, and despite Mary's protests, they had taken a photograph on their terrace, overlooking the fountain below, the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. Once again, Mary smiled at the camera, slightly more reserved this time, the excitement from the Casino the night before, and what they had done upon their return to their hotel suite having worn her out. Matthew though, was quite lively. His arms were around her waist, and his forehead was almost touching her hair as he leaned into her. Rather than look at the camera, he was beaming at her.
Mary turned away and sat down at her vanity, idly picking at her jewellery in preparation for what she would wear at dinner later on. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Mary had a duty to her family.
Mary had a duty to follow her Papa's orders.
Mary had a duty to support her husband.
Matthew always did everything she asked.
Matthew always wanted to do things right for her.
Matthew never cared whether he was the heir or not, but knew that as the heir he could help protect Downton because it was important to her.
How could she possibly convince Matthew to be someone he was not?