Previously:
Law Office of George Murray, London, England, August 1914
"No, I don't believe I need you at all," Robert shook his head. "Why do you think that Cora became pregnant now after all these years, Matthew? A lucky coincidence, you thought?" Robert laughed bitterly.
"You cannot possibly mean that you purposefully…" Matthew said in alarm.
"You left me no choice!" Robert interjected, banging his fist on the table. "A son is supposed to obey his father without question! If you will not play that role then it is my duty to ensure I have a male heir who will! Cora's miscarriage was unfortunate, but Clarkson assures me that no permanent damage was done."
Matthew's mouth dropped in astonishment.
The door opened suddenly. Robert looked up to see who was now interrupting them. Matthew did not need to.
"Mary!" Robert gasped.
Mary stepped to Matthew's side, placing her gloved hand on his shoulder. Her fierce eyes glared at her Papa, her lip quivering slightly as rage boiled within her.
"I have no secrets from my wife," Matthew repeated.
Chapter 28:
Grantham House, St. James Square, London, England, July 1914
Matthew blinked several times, the dark outline of the canopy above their bed coming into focus. It had to be quite early still, as the room was still dark and there was no light filtering in from the borders of the drapes. Why had he woken? After what he and Mary had done mere hours ago, he should be quite…exhausted.
He turned his head to the side and made out the outline of Mary's naked back, her loose hair falling across her shoulder, the blankets resting across her waist. Her head was facing away from him, resting on her arms folded in front of her.
Matthew frowned.
He turned his body and moved towards her, his legs wrapping across hers under the blankets. He kissed her spine lightly, moving slowly up her back and to her shoulder. It was dark, with no light to guide him, but he found her skin easily and his lips did the rest. He carefully stretched himself out next to her, feeling her warm body against him, but keeping his weight off of her. Her legs moved back towards him slightly.
"You shouldn't wake me up," Mary mumbled. "It's not even dawn."
"You were already awake," Matthew smiled.
"How do you know that I was?" she asked, her head still turned away from him.
"Because your breathing sounds different than when you're asleep," he answered. "And you're lying on your front. You only lie on your front when you're in deep contemplation. You usually sleep on your side, sometimes on your back, but never on your front."
Mary turned her head and looked back at him, smirking at him mysteriously.
"I'm beginning to think that you know my mannerisms far too well," she said.
"I should hope that I do," he smiled back, his fingers moving up and down her back. He leaned over and kissed her shoulder. "I should hope that I know you better than anyone else."
"Mmm," Mary smiled, closing her eyes.
"So what has you awake in the middle of the night and in deep contemplation?" he asked.
Mary opened her eyes. Even in the darkness she could always find his eyes. It wasn't as though they were glowing, although when the moonlight caught them they could appear rather eerie. It just seemed that she knew where to look and they would be there, staring back at her.
"I was thinking about the signed agreements that came today," she said.
"The assignments of Robert's loans? Yes, what about them?" he asked.
"Everything became more real, is all," she sighed. "The loans, you becoming rich, Papa wasting Mama's money, and now the creditors agreeing to transfer the loans to you. It's been a lot to understand in such a short time."
"Surely you'd rather the money be owed to me, rather than to someone else?" he responded.
"Of course, darling," she smiled. "You've been very generous."
"However?" he replied.
"I suppose I'm still wondering why," Mary frowned.
"Why?" Matthew repeated. "Well, I assume that the pressure of being Earl and paying for all the costs of running Downton have weighed rather heavily on Robert."
"No, I don't mean why did Papa borrow so heavily," she corrected him. "I mean why would you do this?"
"What?" Matthew asked, startled. "Darling, please. You know I would do anything for this family."
"I know that," she nodded. "And I love you for being on our side, for helping us, for trying to save Papa from living out the rest of his days in humiliation and grief. But I suppose I question whether it's all worth it."
"Pardon?" Matthew blinked. "Would you rather I destroy Robert in payment for destroying your Mama's dowry?"
"No, of course not," Mary said. "But it is your money. If you wanted to use it for another purpose, to use it for us to live a different life, you would be within your rights to do so."
"And what about you?" he asked. "Would you really follow me and dine in splendour while Downton crumbles?"
"I'm your wife," Mary answered. "It's my duty to follow you."
"I don't understand," he frowned in confusion. "Just a few days ago you were relieved that there may be a way to get your father out of this mess, and now that we have taken over for his creditors, you suddenly question whether you want to bother at all?"
"What are we saving, Matthew? Truly?" Mary asked. "I've spent my entire life being groomed and trained to be Countess of Grantham. The Countess of Grantham lives at Downton Abbey. That's all that I've ever known. I've never questioned that fundamental belief – that Downton must never be allowed to fall. And yet, for all I've done to meet everyone's expectations, my father has practically thrown it all away in the span of a few months, and all without a word to me or anyone else."
Matthew continued to stroke her back. He was fully awake now as Mary's voice grew more agitated.
"Do you know what I told myself when we parted for the last time years ago?" she asked. "I was sad and distraught and heartbroken, but I told myself that it was all necessary, because it didn't matter that I was turning away from the only man that I ever loved. All that mattered was Downton. Then Patrick died. He died and my becoming Countess of Grantham died with him. Everything I was taught; everything I was preparing for, disappeared in an instant. And because Downton was more important, my parents went out to find another male heir, and moved to marry me off to some stranger and get me out of the way as quickly as possible."
"Mary," Matthew said, trying to calm her.
"So what are we doing, Matthew?" she demanded. "Why are we going to all of this trouble? Why are you giving away part of your fortune to save Papa when he's done nothing but treat you so shamefully these past months? Are we doing it for Downton? Are we doing it because Downton matters? I don't know anymore."
Matthew moved towards her and gently turned her on to her back. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly. He ran his hand across her cheek, pushing her hair back and over her shoulder.
"Mary," he said quietly. "You don't want your father to be ruined. You don't want to lose Downton. Deep down, regardless of what's happened, you won't abandon them. So, there's no use wondering if it's worth it or not. We have to save it. That's all."
"But you said there are no guarantees that we won't be facing the same problems in a few years' time," she said.
"Yes, getting the creditors out of the way is only part of the plan," Matthew agreed. "There's more to it, and we'll need Robert's help for the rest of it."
"I don't know how agreeable Papa will be when he finds out what you've done," Mary said.
"Well thankfully we have some time to sort all of that out," he said. "Now that we have the loans safely in our hands, we can wait and see if his other investments work out and try to even recover some money from those deplorable men that he's dealt with. For now, the family art is safe and there won't be any demands for payment, or any need to let Robert know about what we've done. That gives us a few months, at least."
"I hope you're right," she nodded. "Anything that involves those horrible thieves makes me nervous."
"There's nothing more to be done for now. We've wrapped up our business and we can head back to Downton as soon as you wish," he smiled.
"Must we?" she smirked. "I am rather enjoying this. Just the two of us, all alone with plenty of money and a house in St. James Square? I can't imagine anything better."
"Careful, darling," Matthew said, leaning over and kissing her. "There will come a day when I think you truly mean that."
Mary laughed and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and shoulders, pulling him down over her. She smiled at his groan when she reached her leg up and wrapped it across his thigh, pulling him against her.
"Let me show you what I mean then," she teased, capturing his mouth again.
Law Office of George Murray, London, England, August 1914
Mary sat next to the door, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. While the voices were somewhat muffled, she could still make out both her father's indignant tone and her husband's cold replies coming from the meeting room on the other side of the door. As she expected, Papa had not taken any of this well. Regardless of the fact that Matthew was entirely justified in his position, the Earl of Grantham did not enjoy being caught out.
It did not take long for her name to be spoken, and she frowned as she listened to the conversation. It was typical of Papa to try and use her as a way to disarm Matthew. It was obvious to the family that Matthew was deferential to her, consulting her and asking for her opinion far more often than most men did with their wives. That was seen as a weakness. When negotiating over how to spend millions of pounds, being sentimental, even where your own wife was concerned, was not considered a strong attribute.
The mistake of course, was that the family had never seen Matthew in his element. They all assumed he was a lawyer who buried himself in books and wrote out wills and other documents. They had not seen the side of him that Mary was well acquainted with. While her husband was not a barrister who spent his days arguing in Court, he was often occupied with speaking to clients, to other lawyers, and most importantly, in negotiations. The fact was that Matthew had dealt with far more disagreeable people across a boardroom table than her father. Mary had seen him in action, and when properly motivated, Matthew was masterful at getting what he wanted. He could be all at once eloquent and cajoling, and stern and intransigent, moving easily from compliments and concessions to threats and demands. Whether it was sweet talking the hotel restaurant manager in Monte Carlo into having the band play a song just for them during dinner, or aggressively forcing Papa's creditors to assign the loans to him for a small fraction of what the loans were actually worth, when it came to arguing, Matthew's only equal was…her.
So as Mary sat and waited, listening intently to the exchanges from the other side of the door, she hoped that Matthew would be able to convince her Papa to see reason. Matthew had all the leverage. He held the loans. But, her Papa was clearly desperate enough to challenge Matthew to make demand for payment, assuming that Matthew would do no such thing.
Mary sighed. She did not know if she was strong enough to stand against her father. She had spent her entire life capitulating to his will on all matters involving Downton. She had followed her Mama's lead, and even her Granny's example to a point – women had no business in Estate affairs.
Mary's eyes went wide as she heard her father's voice ring out loudly from the meeting room.
"No, I don't believe I need you at all. Why do you think that Cora became pregnant now after all these years, Matthew? A lucky coincidence, you thought?"
Her father's laugh felt like a physical slap across her face.
"You cannot possibly mean that you purposefully…"
Matthew's tone of voice sounded as astonished as Mary felt.
"You left me no choice! A son is supposed to obey his father without question! If you will not play that role then it is my duty to ensure I have a male heir who will! Cora's miscarriage was unfortunate, but Clarkson assures me that no permanent damage was done."
Her Papa's pounding of his fist on the table jolted her to her feet. She turned towards the door. Her shoulders tensed and her fingers curled into fists. The memories flew through her mind as her fury raged within her. Her Papa telling her that the Earldom would pass to Cousin James, then Cousin Patrick after him. Being told to marry Patrick to secure her future. The bitterness of leaving Matthew behind. The news that even with James and Patrick dead, that she still would be passed over as Murray had located a distant male relative to inherit the title and the Estate. Her father's firm refusal to even challenge the entail.
Mary opened the door and walked into the room. Her narrow eyes met her father's astonished look of shock. Her throat felt dry and her hands began to shake, partly from nervousness, but mostly in anger. She reached out and placed her hand on Matthew's shoulder, steadying herself at his side, and calming herself through the feel of his body. There was no going back, now. She had chosen her side and she would not waver.
"Mary!" Robert gasped.
Brown's Hotel, Mayfair, London, England, August 1914
"Are you all right?" Matthew asked quietly, his voice floating through the darkness of their bedroom.
"Yes," Mary replied, her head resting on his chest.
Matthew stroked her back, his fingers moving up and down in a patient rhythm. He wanted to say a thousand things to her, and yet he stayed silent, allowing his wife to consider the myriad thoughts that he knew were gathering within her like an approaching storm. She was quiet on the train ride from Downton, and had barely said anything of substance on the trip over to the hotel, through dinner and even once they were in bed. Tomorrow's meeting with Robert weighed heavily on Matthew's mind, but he was now more concerned by the effect it seemed to be having on Mary.
"I suppose that all of us, Edith, Sybil and I, we always saw Papa as larger than life," Mary said quietly, breaking the silence. She was treading over territory she did not wish to visit.
"Yes," Matthew answered.
"Even when he wouldn't support me on the entail, and other times when he's disappointed me, I never saw him as being weak or even wrong. There was always some excuse, some explanation, some reason to think that he was the victim of circumstance, and not the author of his own demise," she continued.
"I think he's always done what he thought was best," Matthew said carefully. "He's not the first nobleman to assume he knows everything, and he won't be the last."
"Perhaps," Mary agreed. "I just know that tomorrow, for the first time, I'll have to look upon my father's failure. It's not something petty like denying me when I wanted to buy another dress, or even something rude like forcing me to entertain some boring neighbour at dinner. He played recklessly with our future, and he was wrong. I think a part of me, the old me, doesn't want to consider a world where the Earl of Grantham can be wrong."
"He's still your father, darling," Matthew said gently. "We're just trying to help him, that's all."
"Do you think he'll be angry?" Mary whispered.
"With me, certainly," Matthew said. "But not with you. At least, not to the same degree."
"And you still want me to go with you?" she asked.
"I can face him on my own," Matthew admitted. "You don't need to be in the meeting. But I think you should at least wait in the office, in case we get out of hand. My dealings with your father have been rather…strained, as of late. Besides, you need to understand what's going on here, and see what he's done. This is our future, Mary. If I excluded you from this, I would be no better than any of these other fools who keep their wives in the dark."
"I always wondered how Mama could be so calm and patient all the time," Mary said, looking blankly away. "She manages the house, the servants, plans and hosts parties and benefits and all of the rest of it. She never seems to be agitated or angry, unless one of us does something particularly bothersome. Now I know why. It's because Papa never tells her any of the truly worrying business."
"That's not uncommon either, Mary," Matthew said. "Your mother is very traditional. She wouldn't call Robert out even if she knew the details of what was going on."
"You're probably right," Mary agreed. "Still, she'll be crushed if this doesn't work itself out and she learns that her money is gone."
"She won't be the only one," Matthew huffed. "Cousin Violet may break painting over your father's head when she finds out what he's done."
Mary scoffed.
"I know that you love him, darling," Matthew said. "And you shouldn't let any of this Estate business change that. I don't think that he's a terrible man, even with all that's happened. But it's too late to consider who is the villain in all of this. The fact is we have to fix this problem, and to do that, we need him almost as much as he needs us."
"Why is it that life becomes far more complicated the older we become, Matthew?" Mary asked. "When I was younger, Downton was our kingdom. There was nothing else to it. There was no possibility of losing money on investments or having to give up the family art to creditors."
"It's a testament to your father that you were able to grow up there without any real concerns or problems," Matthew said kindly. "Despite whatever he's done, he shouldered the burden so that you wouldn't have to bothered with it. But if we are to take over one day, then we need to see and know everything that goes on – good and bad."
"He was always larger than life," Mary said quietly. "Now I fear that no matter what happens, he'll seem smaller to me."
Law Office of George Murray, London, England, August 1914
Matthew looked straight ahead. Mary's hand on his shoulder was a comfort, and he focused on her touch, the feel of her gloved fingers pressed firmly to his suit jacket. Her presence was dangerous, threatening to push the Earl over the edge and ruin any chance they had at an amicable resolution, but Matthew was insistent that she attend, and Robert's mind boggling line of vitriol only reinforced that he had made the correct decision. Mary had to hear just how far her father had fallen.
"Mary," Robert repeated. He stood up and looked at his eldest daughter apprehensively.
"Don't stand on my account, Papa," Mary smiled politely. "Please, sit."
Robert eased back down into his chair. Mary took a seat next to Matthew, across the table.
"Shall we ring Murray's girl to have her bring in some more tea?" Robert volunteered, searching for some distraction.
"I'm fine," Mary answered. "I took tea while I was waiting out in the hall."
"Out in the hall?" Robert repeated.
"Yes," Mary nodded brightly. "Matthew thought I should come down for the meeting. I didn't think I needed to sit in on your discussions from the outset, so I decided to wait outside until something piqued my interest."
"I see," Robert said, his eyes narrowing. He glanced over at Matthew, who returned his stare without moving.
"Matthew says you're aware of the current situation," Robert said, turning back to Mary.
"I am," Mary nodded. "My husband is very kind to keep me informed."
"Yes, well it is a rather…fortunate turn that Matthew now has the resources to contribute to Downton's future," Robert nodded, keeping his eyes squarely on his daughter.
"Quite fortunate," Mary agreed. "I would almost go so far as to say that if it wasn't for Matthew, we could all be ruined. Wouldn't you agree, Papa?"
"I don't know if things are quite that dire, Mary," Robert said tightly. "Downton has existed in our family for generations. It's a bit naïve to think that Matthew could sweep in here and fix whatever ails the Estate in a matter of weeks, isn't it?"
"I suppose that depends," Mary retorted. "If everything can turn to dust in an instant because of some foolish investments, then it isn't so inconceivable that Matthew could save it just as quickly."
Robert's lips pursed tightly and he furrowed his brow. He composed himself, then leaned slightly forward, his hands folding together on the table.
"Well, perhaps it's time that we all had a talk about the future, and exactly what part each of us is to play in that future."
Matthew kept his face neutral, although compared to Mary, he may as well have been yelling and screaming. She was completely unreadable, her eyes sharp and fixed on Robert, her lips showing neither a smirk, nor a frown. Matthew felt strangely removed from the situation, watching as the Earl of Grantham and his eldest daughter seemed to be silently preparing for battle.
"We're listening, Papa," Mary replied.
Downton Abbey, England, August 1914
"Papa told me he's going to London," Mary stated as she came into the parlour.
"Yes," Cora nodded, focused on her needlework. "For business."
"But he's staying overnight at the club," Mary continued, eyeing her Mama carefully. "Don't you think that's odd? He usually is only in London for the day and comes back for dinner."
"Well, I assume that whatever business he needs to attend to is not something that can be completed in one day," Cora said evenly. "Why does it matter?"
"I would think you would want to know your husband's whereabouts rather than allow him to go to London for days without explanation," Mary said offhandedly.
Cora looked up from her needlepoint and looked at Mary with a confused smirk. "Where is this coming from? You know very well that your Papa goes to London for business. He doesn't offer any explanation and I do not ask for one. Why would I start now?"
"No reason," Mary shook her head in exasperation.
"Is there something wrong that you know of, Mary?" Cora asked pointedly.
"No, there isn't," Mary replied.
"Your Papa has been Captain of this ship for years, Mary. He deserves some respect, rather than being questioned as to what he is up to. If we have no reason to doubt him, then his travelling to London on business should not bother you," Cora said.
"Yes, Mama," Mary sighed.
We all can't have husbands like you, my dear," Cora smiled, returning to her needlepoint.
"What do you mean by that?" Mary asked.
"Please, Mary," Cora laughed. "Matthew adores you. I'm sure he tells you exactly where he is going at all times. He probably wouldn't dream of being away from you overnight if he could help it."
"That isn't true," Mary said, unable to stop herself from blushing. "Matthew can come and go as he pleases."
"Perhaps he can," Cora smiled. "But I hardly think he would want to."
Mary looked away and bit her lower lip to suppress her smile.
"Well, anyway, Matthew and I are going to London as well actually," she said, rising from the sofa.
"You are? But you were just there," Cora frowned.
"I know, but Alex has called Matthew back to attend to some business. It may take a few days," she answered.
"And since Matthew will be there overnight, he wants you to come along," Cora smiled knowingly.
"Something like that," Mary said airily. "We'll be back in a few days' time. There's no need to open Grantham House or bother Aunt Rosamund. We'll be staying at Brown's Hotel if you need to reach us."
"Brown's Hotel? That's quite lovely. I've never stayed there before," Cora noted.
"Neither have I," Mary smirked, turning for the door before her smile threatened to betray her.
Law Office of George Murray, London, England, August 1914
"Mary, you know of the terms that Matthew has imposed as part of forgiving the loans?" Robert asked.
"Yes, Papa," Mary nodded. "They're entirely reasonable, don't you think?"
"Well, the difficulty is having too many ideas floating around," Robert waved his hand in the air dismissively. "I've heard your ideas, Matthew. I'm afraid they're not well thought out. You want to displace some of the tenants and take over farming the land ourselves, don't you?"
"Yes," Matthew nodded. "The long and the short of it is that we need to generate more income and profit from the land than we are at the moment."
"Profit, profit, profit," Robert scoffed. "That is not how we do things, Matthew. Some of these families have been at Downton as long as we have. We cannot simply uproot them so unfairly."
"We aren't uprooting them, Robert," Matthew replied, growing more annoyed at the Earl's tone. "We're giving them a choice, that's all."
"A choice to leave before we choose to evict them, you mean?" Robert frowned. He turned to Mary and softened his expression. "Why not go about it gradually? Buy some more time by investing this newfound capital? I hear of schemes everyday that will double your money, or triple it, or more."
"Many schemes promise large returns, but that does not mean they deliver," Matthew said guardedly.
"But surely it can't hurt to investigate further?" Robert said pointedly. "If I could just…"
"Papa, for God's sake!" Mary shook her head. "Haven't you already done enough?"
Robert's mouth gaped in shock.
"What Mary means, Robert," Matthew said slowly, "is that we need to invest in Downton, rather than try and grow our money through any scheme."
"So you're against me as well?" Robert said accusingly, his eyes narrowing at Mary.
"I'm never against you. But you've lost on this one," Mary replied.
"Do you see?" Robert rounded on Matthew. "You've utterly confused her with your grand plans of modernisation and false promises! She would never dare speak out so disrespectfully to her own father before. Then you arrive, and now look at her! Do you see what you've done? Do you see why you're not ready, Matthew?"
"What I see is my husband trying to build something for us, for you, that will last, instead of leaving things as they are and watching them crumble into dust," Mary said firmly.
"If you're so convinced that my ideas are worth nothing, Robert, then what is the alternative?" Matthew asked. "What is your strategy for turning things around? You've already spent Cora's money, so what's next? To spend mine? To maintain the illusion that everything is grand and hope that one of your schemes results in a windfall?"
"You make it sound as if I'm gambling with the family's future," Robert spat.
"You are, Papa," Mary said coldly. "And when all else fails, and we're stuck in a bottomless pit of debt, what then? We'll have to sell Downton and all will be lost."
"How can the two of you be so heartless?" Robert shouted. "You talk about the tenants as though they were mere commodities, resources that you can move around and dispose of at your whim! These are people, by Heaven! They put their trust in us to care for them and to guard their futures. You'd throw all of that away in your pursuit of profits!"
"Isn't the best thing for the tenants, and for us, that Downton is maintained, as a place of employment?" Mary asked. "Continue as you are and that won't happen, Papa. And when we are forced to sell, will the tenants be so appreciative and understanding of all the favours and indulgences you've granted them? Or will they look at you as the Earl who failed?"
Robert swallowed, his posture tight and tense at his daughter's words.
"You won't enforce the loans," he said bitterly, glaring at Matthew. "If the family knew of your intentions, they would be horrified. They would be aghast at your disregard for all of us, and they would be entirely correct in that assessment."
"And what would Cousin Cora say if she knew about what you've done, Robert?" Matthew replied coldly. "Perhaps she could forgive you for losing her money. After all, it was always yours to spend. But would she be so understanding if she knew of your intentions regarding her pregnancy? Would she stay quiet and agree to play her role in your desire to find a new heir?"
Robert's lip curled as his anger overtook him.
"If you think that Matthew is so easily replaced, then go on without us," Mary said icily. "And when Mama's money runs out and Matthew demands payment on your loans, you'll be forced into bankruptcy, and will then have to explain to the family where it all went wrong."
"You would do that?" Robert hissed, turning his fiery gaze from Matthew to her. "You would leave Downton? You would turn your back on your own family?"
"You know my character, Papa. I'm stubborn. I sometimes wish I wasn't, but I am. Matthew has saved you, don't you see? You could be sitting across the table from strangers who care not one whit for the plight of you or us or any of our tenants. Instead, your heir, my husband, is willing to wipe your slate clean. Are you so against him that you would refuse this respite just to maintain sole control of the Estate?"
Robert looked from Mary to Matthew and back again. He breathed deeply, his face a scowl.
"Very well," the Earl said, barely above a whisper. "Send the necessary papers to Murray. Not a word of this shall be spoken when we return home. And before you start sending out the eviction notices, Matthew, I don't want anything to change until after the Garden Party. Our way of life should at least be allowed to endure until then."
"Fine," Matthew replied curtly.
Matthew and Mary rose from the table. They both looked back at Robert, but he refused to meet their gaze. He stayed seated, turning around and looking out the window.
Mary breathed sadly. She looked at her father, then turned away as her husband pulled gently on her arm and escorted her out.
Robert Crawley seemed entirely broken to her in that moment.