Previously:
Downton Abbey, England, June 1914
"Carson and Mrs. Hughes are dealing with it," Robert waved his hand dismissively. "One thing you'll have to learn is that you can't involve yourself in everything that goes on around here Matthew. Best to leave most tasks to those who are better suited to deal with them."
"Make no mistake, Robert," Matthew smiled back. "I am well informed of just what everyone here is best suited for."
Matthew's stare was unwavering. Robert pursed his lips, then turned and went through to the sitting room. Matthew followed, moving quickly to the sofa and Mary's calming and reassuring presence.
Chapter 25:
Downton Abbey, England, June 1914
"Papa? Is Mama here with you?" Mary asked, coming into the sitting room.
"No, she's still upstairs. She likes to take her baths in the morning these days. She thinks it's good for the baby," Robert replied, looking over at his eldest daughter with a smile.
"Ah," Mary smiled back. "Well, Matthew and I are off to London. We'll be back in two weeks' time."
"I still don't know why you're going. We were just there for the Season," Robert frowned.
"I think it's a good idea to get away," Mary replied. "Ever since…your news…Matthew has been a bit down. I think taking him back to the City will lift his spirits. Don't worry, we'll be back well in time for the Garden Party at the end of next month."
"I hardly see why he must be so moody about it," Robert shook his head. "We aren't casting him off. We're simply being cautious."
"You uprooted him from Manchester, brought him here and changed his life all because you said he was your heir. Now he finds out that he may not be that at all. I think he's dealing quite well with it, to be honest," Mary said pointedly.
"He's still a part of this family, that won't change," Robert answered. "I would hope he's found other suitable reasons to stay here regardless of what happens with the baby."
"Of course, but you can't expect him to grin and bear it so easily," Mary said patiently.
Robert huffed.
"You and Mama wanted me to make sure he accepts it and focuses on his duties. Well, I'm taking him to London so he can do just that. By the time we come back, he'll be on board," Mary smiled.
"Fine," Robert nodded. "Go and buck him up a bit. Are you taking Anna?"
"No," Mary shook her head. "I'm leaving her here for Sybil and Edith. Until we find a replacement for Jane, I can't take Anna away for two weeks. We'll borrow some of Aunt Rosamund's staff for the necessities."
"That's very kind of you," Robert smirked.
"Blame it on my husband," Mary said airily. "He thinks we can fend for ourselves. He does prefer a simpler life sometimes."
Robert laughed and waved goodbye to her. Mary turned and headed for the Great Hall, a knowing smirk on her lips.
Robert watched his daughter disappear. He turned back to the paintings hung on the walls, the portraits of past Earls staring back at him. He frowned in silent reply. If it were up to him, he would plaster harsh words in red paint across each of their faces, marking them with their true titles – "Bankrupt," "Thief," "Liar," "Gambler," "Scoundrel," – each of these men, even Robert's own father, had contributed to his current predicament, leaving the Estate in such ruin that he had to take drastic measures to try and restore it and build it so that Matthew and Mary and their children would not be saddled with the same problems.
Robert' fingers curled into fists and his eyes narrowed as he stared at the images before him. Did they have any regrets? Did they feel any remorse? Did they even think of what repercussions their recklessness and waste would have on generations to come, on the future Earls, on him? Robert sighed bitterly. Of course not. No one had thought of him in the past, or what burden he would carry even before he was born. They had ignored the plight he was stuck with, never considering that the future Earl of Grantham would suffer.
From a young age, Robert was groomed to one day inherit and rule. He knew the family history before he even knew British history, and even now, when the carelessness of past Earls was obvious to him, he still revered them, still looked at them with a sense of awe that was woven into his own blood. Each of them had done their duty, kept Downton going and handed it over to the next Earl. Even though it was essentially an exercise in passing the problems of the Estate to younger hands, they had filled their roles as caretakers completely.
Robert turned away and stepped deliberately towards the Great Hall, needing to remove himself from the presence of his forefathers, who had all betrayed him, and yet who he still could not bring himself to hate as much as he should. His plan would work, he thought with determination. He, Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham, would succeed where others had failed. He, and he alone, would save Downton. Truly save it. He would establish a legacy that would endure for generations. By the time he was done, a portrait would not be enough. He would build a damn statue on the grounds. He would be more than a caretaker. He would be a champion. He would carry the family hopes on his shoulders and he would not waver.
Office of Harvell, Carter & Lewis, London, England, July 1914
"Lady Mary," Alex smiled, bowing his head and kissing her cheek.
"Alex," Mary smiled, kissing his cheek in turn. "Wonderful to see you."
"Likewise. Can I assume from your presence here that you have decided to join your husband's team?" Alex asked, looking at Matthew then back to Mary.
"We're all in this together," Matthew said. "I'm not against Robert, and neither is Mary. We just need to find out what's going on."
"Yes," Mary confirmed. "Although I must confess that even concerning the amount of information that Matthew has given me, I do not know if I understand all of it."
"Well that makes three of us, then," Matthew smiled at her. Alex laughed and led the way to the boardroom. They were seated and tea and scones were brought in. Alex stood up on one side of the table, arranging papers in front of him.
"This is mostly assumption and theory," Alex began. "We don't actually know what the true state of affairs is at Downton. Lord Grantham's investments, specifically the companies he has shares in and the amount of money he has spent are only known by his broker, and whatever money he has in cash is in the hands of the banks. All of that information is private and confidential."
"There is a chance that Robert is managing perfectly well," Matthew said carefully, looking at Mary. "This may simply be my paranoia and nothing else."
"And if it isn't?" Mary asked, turning back to Alex. "What then?"
Alex looked at Matthew. Matthew nodded to him to continue.
"Allow me to give you a visual demonstration," Alex said. He took several pound notes from his wallet and placed them on the table.
"Normally, the revenue from the Estate – rent from tenants, sale of crops, and so forth – is used to pay expenses," Alex said, moving part of the stack of pound notes in front of Mary and Matthew.
"In a perfect world, if Downton was self-sufficient, then Robert would not need to use any of Cousin Cora's money to pay for Estate expenses, and so the money would remain as a capital fund to be passed on to the next heir," Matthew said.
"But Downton isn't self-sufficient. We all know that," Mary said.
"Quite right," Alex nodded. "Numerous tenants remain in arrears on their rents, and the ones who are up to date are paying at rates that are quite outdated. Some properties are underdeveloped and underused, or not used at all. There are numerous inefficiencies in the Village, and the staffing is rather…"
"Alex," Matthew stopped him, peeking over at Mary cautiously. "We all know Downton isn't self-sufficient."
"Right," Alex smiled apologetically to Mary. "The end result being that the Earl needs to use some of Lady Grantham's money each month to balance out the deficit. That has been the manner the Estate has been run for generations."
He removed several pound notes from the stack in front of them and put them off to the side.
"The past Earls, for the most part, died before they ran out of money, leaving their heirs to figure out creative solutions to generate enough cash to save the Estate," Matthew said.
"Such as Grandfather having Papa marry Mama and use the Levinson Gold to pay Downton's debts," Mary said.
Alex nodded and moved the pound notes back into one stack.
"Lord Grantham knows the family history better than almost anyone, except perhaps his mother," Alex continued. "Lady Grantham's money is enough to keep Downton going for many years, but eventually when it runs out, another source of funding will be required. Normally, that would be the next Earl's problem."
"Things are different now though. There's another expense. Upon Robert's death, the Estate will require a large sum of money to pay death duties."
"Death duties?" Mary questioned.
"Fees owed to the government upon the passing of an Estate to an heir," Alex said. He took most of the pound notes from the stack and put them back in his pocket. "So not only will the next Earl likely have very little money left when he inherits, but then he'll face a large payment to the government."
"This is all recent, the result of changes to the law in the past decade," Matthew explained to Mary. "Previously, the Earl would not have to account for such a considerable sum upon his death. That is no longer the case."
"So we could owe money when Papa dies," Mary shook her head.
"Possibly. Of course we think that Lord Grantham knows all this and has foreseen it," Alex said. "We think he is trying to stop the vicious cycle of the Estate passing from one Earl to the next with very little to go with it."
"That's where his investments come in," Matthew nodded.
"We know that Lord Grantham has invested a great deal of Lady Grantham's money in the stock market. He's told Matthew as much. He's been doing so for years. He has shares in at least one company in the New World, though we don't know which one. Others are likely traditional stocks that most of the Peerage have stakes in here at home," Alex explained.
"It's not uncommon," Mary said. "No one just leaves money sitting in a family vault anymore."
"Quite right," Alex nodded. "While most Lords have their money sitting in the bank or in government bonds earning small interest, the more ambitious ones try to grow their fortunes by expanding their lands or investing in companies."
"Ideally, Robert probably hopes that his investments will be lucrative so that there's enough money to pay the death duties and pass the rest on to the next Earl to ensure Downton is secure," Matthew said.
"And he would not be alone in that goal. Most of his fellow Lords are probably facing the same dilemma," Alex added.
"What happens if Papa's investments don't pay off?" Mary frowned.
"Then he would be quite behind in his plan," Matthew said. "And he would have to borrow money to try and make up the difference."
Alex took out another stack of pound notes and placed it on the table.
"Take out a loan? From who?" Mary frowned.
"No bank would advance the kind of money Robert would want," Matthew nodded. "The entail and the current property laws forbid using Downton as collateral for a loan, or granting a mortgage on the property."
"Any respectful financial institution would have to look at Downton's books before deciding to lend," Alex said. "And once they see that Downton has operated at a deficit for centuries, they won't give him the money he would need."
"Robert probably has certain loans already, most of the Peerage does. They're arranged through contacts and friendly lenders, with low interest rates and long repayment terms," Matthew said. "The point being that he's likely already exhausted the more traditional sources of money."
"So what else is there?" Mary asked.
"Private lenders," Matthew said. "They aren't nearly as rigid in their principles, and they are more than willing to advance large sums of money, to aristocrats in particular, for a price."
"What price?" Mary frowned.
"For the amount of money that we think Lord Grantham would need, there would be a high interest rate charged, strict repayment terms, and the need for the loans to be secured by collateral from the borrower," Alex explained.
"Collateral? But you just said that Downton could not be mortgaged," Mary stated. Her eyes then widened and she had to cover her mouth with her hand. She composed herself and stared at Matthew.
"The art!" she exclaimed.
"Precisely," Matthew nodded. "The fact that Robert had all of the art at Downton and Grantham House appraised, and did not inform any of us about it, is cause for concern. He can't grant a mortgage on the lands to secure a loan, but there's nothing stopping him from pledging the art, which probably has the most value of anything else he owns."
"That's what's troubling," Alex nodded. "If it were simply a matter of Lord Grantham investing the Levinson money in the stock market, then that's his business and the chips shall fall where they may. Having the art appraised and possibly pledged as collateral leads us to believe that he's borrowed money from somewhere, and likely a great deal of it."
"So if Papa loses on his investments, we not only lose Mama's money, but we could lose the family art to creditors?" Mary asked.
"Yes," Alex said. "The other problem though, is that the value of the art in Yorkshire and in London is not enough in our opinion to fully pay for what we think is the total of Lord Grantham's debts."
"Again, it's all speculation," Matthew said evenly. "If he still has most of the Levinson money available to him, he could invest that and perhaps his borrowing is not as high as we suspect."
"Granny would still have his head for pledging the art in the first place," Mary muttered.
"But if he succeeds, he can repay his loans and no one will be the wiser. Better to beg forgiveness than ask for permission," Matthew smirked. "Someone taught me that once."
"Behave yourself!" Mary hissed. "You'll shock Alex," she arched her eyebrow at him teasingly.
She turned back and looked at the remaining stack of pound notes.
"Why do you suspect that Papa has borrowed beyond the value of the art?" Mary asked.
"Because, darling, that's what private lenders do," Matthew sighed. "They set up borrowers to overextend themselves. They usually overestimate the value of the collateral, knowing full well that when the loans come due, the borrower will need to sell further assets to pay the balance."
"But what else is there? The private lenders must know that Downton can't be mortgaged," Mary said. "Papa would have to use Mama's money to pay off the debts."
"Which could potentially leave him with nothing," Matthew said.
"Yes, but there is another possible scenario. While Downton cannot be mortgaged, it could be sold…" Alex said.
"If Robert was forced to declare bankruptcy," Matthew finished.
"Oh, God," Mary said in shock. "Papa would be ruined, humiliated."
"The family would have to leave and Downton would be sold, with the grounds bought by the highest bidder," Matthew said.
"In these types of fire sales, prices are always slashed, Lady Mary," Alex added. "Someone, perhaps even the private lender in question, would be able to have Downton Abbey for a song."
Mary stared at the pile of pound notes on the table. Her mind spun, trying to process everything that was being explained.
"It's a rather nefarious scheme, when you think about it," Alex said. "The lender lends money to an Earl who thinks that he'll make a killing on a lucrative investment. If it works out, the lender gets paid back in full with interest. If the investment doesn't turn out, the lender can seize the collateral and, when the Earl is forced into bankruptcy, purchase the Earl's property at a reduced price."
"Leaving the lender with a property worth far more than the amount of the original loan," Matthew concluded.
"But we don't know if any of this has come to pass, do we?" Mary said quietly.
"No, and I certainly hope we're wrong," Matthew nodded. He took her hand and squeezed it.
"But, the signs are troubling," Alex said. "If Lord Grantham pledged the art at Downton and was having it appraised by those men who showed up at the house, why would he need to meet weeks later with these other men at Grantham House during the Season and have the art there appraised as well?"
"Unless he spent the loans he received for the art at Downton, and went back to the private lenders for more, which led to the art at Grantham House being appraised," Matthew said.
"There must be some way we can find out what Papa is up to, without him knowing. If he thought we suspected him or that we were looking into his affairs, he would be crushed," Mary said.
"Not to mention, making certain investigations would be illegal," Alex said.
"There is a way," Matthew said, looking at his wife. "And it involves the scheme that I mentioned to you."
Mary looked from Matthew to Alex and back to her husband. She nodded and urged him to continue.
Claridge's Hotel, Mayfair, London, England, July 1914
"Lady Mary Crawley," the gentleman smiled, rising from the table and bowing as Mary was escorted over.
"Good afternoon," Mary smiled politely. She took the seat offered by the host. "Thank you for meeting me away from your office."
"Of course," the gentleman smiled, introducing his colleague and taking his seat. "I must say we were surprised to hear from your lawyer. We don't usually receive expressions of interest from women."
Mary nodded as the tea was poured for them. She took her time and sipped the hot drink, calming her nerves.
"Yes, well you can appreciate the need for discretion. I wouldn't want my father, Lord Grantham, or my husband to know the exact nature of my interest," she said quietly.
"Rest assured, Lady Mary," the other gentleman replied. "This conversation shall be kept in strict confidence. First, may we ask how you heard about us?"
"Viscount Branksome's daughter mentioned to me that her father was making investments in America," Mary replied easily. "My lawyer made some discrete inquiries and that led us to you."
"Viscount Branksome is a very good client of ours," the man nodded. "I take it you did not speak to him directly, however?"
"No, of course not," Mary said. "I was curious, but women are not permitted to have thoughts on such subjects," she said bitterly.
"A shame, yes," came the answer. "Our business is quite lucrative, Lady Mary, but we've had to remain rather clandestine about it. There are all manner of powerful men who would not take kindly to our offering the public a far greater return on their money than they can receive through the banks."
"Well the more exclusive the club, the better," Mary smiled. "I must confess that I do not quite understand how it works. Papa only deals with the stock market, I'm afraid," she bit her lip in embarrassment.
The two men exchanged a knowing glance with each other.
"It's quite straightforward, Lady Mary," he replied. "The stock market is fine for basic investors, but it's quite slow, you see. Our business provides immediate profits for our distinguished clients, within months."
"The New World has all manner of quite exciting opportunities, Lady Mary," the other man chimed in. "We take our clients' investment and purchase goods from both America and Europe, and sell them at a profit to whichever market demands them. There is still a short supply of products going back and forth, you see, and we can charge a premium on these items."
"We honestly can't sell the goods fast enough. The demand is overwhelming," the first man laughed.
"I see," Mary replied carefully. "That sounds rather enticing."
"Most of our clients are so impressed by our performance that they end up reinvesting their profits back into the enterprise," he explained. "We're always exploring new ventures that benefit our clients, both here at home and in America. And we do not badger our clients with constant updates and reports. You won't hear a word from us, except when you wish us to mail you your earnings, of course."
The two men laughed. Mary smiled back.
"Forgive me, Lady Mary, but I sense that your curiosity is motivated perhaps by something else," the other gentleman said seriously.
"Perhaps," Mary answered, taking another sip of her tea.
"If I may be so bold, my Lady," he continued, looking at her intently. "I think you're looking for a way to have something of your own. Something that does not rely on your father or your husband. Something that you can point to as being yours alone."
Mary looked down at her tea cup and nodded slightly.
"We don't pretend to know how Society can restrict a vibrant and strong woman such as yourself," he said. "But when your family and friends see how successful you have become through your association with us, Lady Mary, they will not be able to ignore you ever again. Or if you would rather your good fortune remain private, I assure you that I shall keep our affairs entirely between just the two of us."
Mary looked up and met his gaze. She arched her eyebrow at his suggestion.
"Of course, to truly distinguish yourself, you would need a rather sizable investment," the other gentleman interjected. "This is the part where I always cringe," he laughed. "How much would you be interested in investing with us, Lady Mary?"
"If I were to decide to invest," Mary said with emphasis. "I have my settlement available."
"I thought that money would have gone to your husband upon your marriage," the other gentleman noted.
"It's mine," Mary said firmly. "Don't concern yourself with my husband. Getting the money will be simple."
"Excellent," he replied, looking at Mary with a wicked smirk.
Mary sipped her tea thoughtfully.
"I would feel more confident," she stated. "If only I knew of someone besides Viscount Branksome who had benefitted from your success. I'm afraid I know no one in my social circle who has heard of this business of yours."
"Which is a testament to how discrete we can be, Lady Mary," he laughed. "We have a number of the Peerage who are increasing their fortunes with us as we speak."
"They all wish for the same confidentiality that you do, Lady Mary," the other gentleman added. "We would not want to betray their trust, you understand."
"Of course," Mary smiled. "I cannot invest with you however, without some sort of endorsement or assurance from someone that I trust. Viscount Branksome is a family friend but I don't know the extent of his involvement with you, or how well he's done. It is a lot of money that I am considering investing with you, and I'm afraid I cannot risk asking my Papa or my husband about it."
"We understand, Lady Mary, but our hands are tied," he replied.
"Well then," Mary smiled. "Thank you for your time, gentleman. I am sorry that we could not reach an accord."
Mary pushed her chair back from the table.
"Lady Mary," the other man said quickly, drawing her attention. "We could give you the names of some of our clients. They do tend to like to talk amongst themselves about our venture. If we were to tell you who some of our clients include, then perhaps your lawyer could make some discrete inquiries and provide you with the assurance you seek?"
"Go on," Mary replied.
The two men looked at each other.
"Perhaps only one name is necessary," he answered, turning back to Mary and smiling at her. "And also ensures that our confidentiality is protected, for we expect that you will not want to be discussing this opportunity with this particular client."
"And who would that be?" Mary asked.
"Why, your father of course, Lord Grantham," the other gentleman smiled.
"Papa?" Mary asked.
"Yes," he nodded. "Lord Grantham is heavily invested with us. And we can assure you that the results will be quite spectacular."
"There's something poetic about it, wouldn't you say?" the other gentleman asked, smiling devilishly. "You, Lady Mary, building your own fortune through the same discrete business that your own father is invested in?"
"That sounds delightful," Mary grinned.
"Excellent," he nodded. "Well then, whenever you have the funds available to you, we will be ready to serve you, my Lady."
Mary rose from the table and the two men stood as well. They each kissed her hand and bid her a good day. Mary gave each of them a brilliant smile, then left the dining room quickly.
"I would have preferred to have the cheque from her today," he said, watching her leave.
"In due time," his colleague answered. "I have a feeling I will be seeing a great deal more of Lady Mary Crawley in the very short future."
"Another one? I thought you were sated with that Duchess."
"She is quite talented," he nodded. "But something tells me that Lady Mary would be far more enjoyable once I've taught her what she needs to know."
"She is married," his colleague said dismissively. "She may know everything already and have no use for what you are offering."
"Don't worry about him," he laughed. "I know her. Her husband is Matthew Crawley, some lawyer from Manchester. The only reason they're married is because Lord Grantham threw them together. I bet they even sleep in separate bedrooms. He wouldn't have taught her anything."
"You can be so rude," his colleague laughed. "Keep in mind that we want her money first and foremost."
"Oh, we'll get her money," he smiled. "I plan on taking a great deal from Lady Mary Crawley. Just think, this could open a brand new market for us – disgruntled wives of aristocrats looking for some…fulfilment."
"You're horrid," his colleague laughed.
"You know me," he said. "Why just settle for taking their money when I can have so much more?"
Mary walked briskly down the street away from Claridge's. She reached Grosvenor Square and nodded to the waiting driver, getting into the car.
Once the door was closed behind her and the car was moving towards Grantham House, Mary grabbed Matthew's face and pulled him into a firm kiss. Matthew's eyes widened in shock before he embraced his wife and held her close.
"I needed that," Mary whispered, drawing back.
"How was your meeting?" he asked.
"Despicable," she spat, looking away. "Those men are ghastly. But they do know how to weave an attractive tale built on the promise of quick riches."
"So is it as bad as we think?" he asked quietly, mindful of the driver.
"It may be worse," Mary said gravely. "Let's get home. I need a bath. I feel unclean."
Matthew frowned in concern.
Monte Carlo Casino, Monte Carlo, Monaco, October 1913
"Madame Crawley, champagne," the waiter smiled, offering Mary the tray.
"Merci," Mary nodded, taking the flute and taking a sip. She turned back to the table and ran her gloved hand along her husband's shoulder. Matthew turned his head and smirked at her.
"More champagne? Enjoying yourself, are you, Lady Mary?" he said in a low voice.
"Very much, Mr. Crawley," she smiled back. "I'm having a marvellous time."
Matthew smiled knowingly, then turned back to focus on the game in front of him. The roulette wheel spun on and the attendant threw the ball on to the rim with a flourish. Mary watched, captivated as the ball fell down and bounced here and there before settling on the winning number.
"Le quatre rouge. Red 4," the attendant called.
"Matthew!" Mary whispered in delight as a large stack of chips were pushed towards her husband.
"Merci," Matthew nodded to the attendant. He picked up several chips and slid them back towards him. "Pour vous," Matthew smiled.
"Putain!" an older gentleman snarled. He pounded his fist into the railing of the table and departed in a huff.
Matthew frowned slightly at the sight before turning back to the attendant. He pushed his chips towards him to indicate that he was finished playing.
"Merci, Monsieur," the attendant nodded. He exchanged Matthew's chips for larger denominations and placed them in a tray. Matthew took the tray and turned to his wife. Mary placed her arm in his and he escorted her away from the table.
"That was rather rude of him," Mary remarked.
"Unfortunately that can happen at places like these," Matthew sighed. "People get carried away with the idea of quick riches and big wins. More often than not, they leave with substantial losses. Casinos aren't generally in the business of losing money."
"I wouldn't know," Mary said lightly. "My lot doesn't generally gamble, at least not for very high stakes."
"As far as you know," Matthew smirked. "The lure of instantly making a large profit is rather addictive, darling. Even the rich are seduced by it. Look around you. Does it seem as though these gamblers are from the middle class?"
"I suppose not," she laughed, leaning towards him. "Then what is your sage advice, Mr. Crawley?" she said brightly. "How do you expect to grow your fortune? Saving up your lawyer's salary?"
Matthew turned his head and surprised her with a quick and suggestive kiss.
"By relying on my wits, of course," he smiled. "And taking advantage of the opportunities that present themselves to me."
"Do you see any opportunities before you now, Matthew?" she said flirtatiously.
"Several, in fact," Matthew smirked, gazing down her body shamelessly. "Before I indulge however, there's one more game I want to show you."
Mary laughed as he led her towards the craps table.
Law Office of George Murray, London, England, August 1914
"Blast," Robert hissed. He crumpled the pages in his fists, his head falling between his shoulders.
"I'm afraid that it is all gone, my Lord," Murray said quietly. "No one has seen them for days, their office is abandoned. The authorities were about to launch an investigation and they must have caught wind of it and fled."
"And what of the money? They must have contacts in America? There were supposed to be warehouses, shipping partners, surely something of their organization remains?" Robert asked desperately.
Murray shook his head sadly. "It appears at first glance that there never was any operation, my Lord. There were numerous manifests and invoices, contracts and other documents found at their office. The authorities have determined they were all fraudulent, falsified to make them seem as though they had a legitimate enterprise, when in fact the money was all funnelled outside the country."
Robert stared down at the floor. "My God."
"The authorities will continue their pursuit, of course," Murray said nervously. "But as of now, the prospects do not look good for any recovery. Even if they do locate these men, my Lord, the usual result is that the funds are already spent by then, and you would not be the only one looking for them. Any money found by the authorities would need to be divided among any number of victims."
Robert remained silent.
"I've spoken to the lawyers for some of your peers who were also invested with them. Needless to say, they are all devastated," Murray said quietly.
After an uncomfortable silence, Murray picked up another document.
"With these investments having failed, my Lord, the problem of course is that your debts remain unpaid," Murray began.
"I bloody well know that, man!" Robert hissed, glaring at the solicitor. Murray swallowed and kept quiet.
Robert shut his eyes, cringing for several moments before he looked back at Murray once more.
"If we liquidate the other shares, how much can we generate?" he asked.
"Not very much, my Lord, I'm afraid," Murray said. "Between the lost investments and the Levinson money already spent, you'd be forced to sell your collateral."
Robert face contorted in anger. "They can't take my art! Those pieces have been in my family for generations!"
"You pledged them as collateral, my Lord. Creditors are entitled to seize the art as payment towards the debts. I'm afraid that the value of those pieces in today's market will not be enough either," Murray said uneasily.
"It was never supposed to come to this," Robert muttered. "Surely they'll allow me time to pay the balance."
Murray shook his head. "They'll insist on payment forthwith. They already provided you with an extension to borrow additional funds to pursue the investments in America. Those were the conditions of the loans that you signed for."
"But I can't raise the money any sooner. I can't mortgage Downton. You told me that's impossible," Robert pleaded.
"It is, my Lord, but if you were to declare bankruptcy, then Downton would be sold, either in pieces or as a complete property, and the proceeds would go to paying your debts."
"Bankruptcy?" Robert gasped. Images of the previous Earls passed through his mind, each of them coming so close to ruin, and yet finding some salvation at the last moment, sometimes in the form of death.
"There must be something I can still do! I just need time! Arrange a meeting with the creditors," he said. "I'll sit with them, explain the situation. They must be made to understand why Downton matters, why it must be saved!"
"I do not believe your sentiments are shared, my Lord," Murray said.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Murray's secretary came into the room.
"I'm sorry, but an urgent message just arrived for Lord Grantham. It was sent to his club and they had it brought here," she explained, handing the note to Robert.
"What now?" Robert mumbled as he unfolded the note. His eyes went wide as he read the brief lines. "Good God in heaven!" he whispered.
"Arrange the meeting for next week, Murray," he said quickly, turning to leave. "I must head back home immediately."
"Yes, my Lord," Murray nodded, watching as the Earl of Grantham walked briskly out the door.