Edith stood in front of the triptych mirror. The sheer lace draped over one shoulder. "It will have embroidered flower motifs all along here." And she traced a line down towards her waist.

Mary looked on approvingly. "It will be perfect." Sybil replied. The both of them were in the bridesmaid's dresses Edith had chosen for them.

They all were to have tea at Claridge's and then look for jewelry along the High Street in Notting Hill.

A girl's day out.

"So who's next?" Edith asked facetiously. "Down the aisle?" She stepped down off the dais.

"So not me!" Sybil pulled her dress off the shoulder and down below her waist. "Got too much life to live first."

"You can live it together." Edith replied with considerable enthusiasm. "It's so much fun to have someone. Bertie and I go everywhere. We've been to the Seychelles for zip lining. To Washington where we met President Obama."

"Along with a thousand other people at the Correspondent's Dinner." Sybil joked back. "It's also fun to just have someone right now." Sybil stepped out of the dress and gave it to the woman attending them at the dress shop.

"Is Tom just for now?" Mary asked with a mocking side eye. "Seems serious to me."

"Oh as if you're the one to give advice." Sybil shot back.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mary stepped away from the mirror to remove her gown.

"What has Henry asked you?" Sybil threw a direct look at her sister.

Mary paused. Hesitated.

Edith leaned in. "Wait? What?"

"He asked me to marry him." Mary answered to Edith's questioning face rather than turn to Sybil.

"And you put him off?" Edith asked unknowingly. "You've been living together for like a year. What's the problem?"

"I've been considering it." Mary wavered just a tad too long.

Sybil snorted. "In between shagging Henry like there's no tomorrow and sucking face with another guy who's supposed to be just a temp hire at Grantham."

"Whoa…whoa! Slow down." Edith blurted out. Turning first to Sybil. "You mean Matthew? She kissed Matthew?"

Sybil nodded with a smug grin. "Ask her about their joint investment. They're tight for sure."

Edith turned with astonishment to Mary. "The guy I looked up for you on the internet? I go away on one trip to cover the Rio Olympics and you fall for a married man?"

"I have not!" Mary insisted. "I am not in love with Matthew Crawley."

Sybil snorted again in derision.

"Stop doing that. It's very unladylike." Mary uttered in frustration.

But Sybil was relentless. "This is real life Mary. Stop what you're doing."

"What do you mean?" Mary's voice was unsteady.

"Toying with a man's affection is one of the worst things to do. It plays into all the stereotypes of women you deplore."

Mary could not deny the truth of Sybil's statement. "I'm not. Matthew knew what he was doing just as much as I did."

Sybil responded evenly. "I wasn't referring to Matthew. I meant Henry. Don't waste the time of someone you don't love."

Mary's eyes narrowed to slits, but she said nothing.

XX

"Penny for your thoughts." Lavinia tried to quip. The morning was so quiet. Isobel had returned to Manchester the day before.

Matthew idly played with the food on his plate.

"I've nothing to give…" He replied with a bit of humour, but ending up sounding more truthful than he meant to convey.

Matthew had so said so very little since his return from Frankfurt. The trip had exhausted him it seemed in more ways than one. Lavinia had a lot of time to think as Matthew traveled on the continent. Especially at night with an empty bed. She realized, with a pain that hurt more than she wanted to acknowledge, that the bed had already felt vacant beside her.

Even with Matthew present, he wasn't there. At first she was too much in her own grief to realize. And then weeks later, even as he held her close in his arms she sensed a distance. When they finally did make love, tender and sensitive to her needs, she felt a certain detachment. Not going through the motions necessarily, that would be unkind. And Matthew was never unkind. He took his time, gave her an ecstatic climax that left them both sweating and exhausted.

But it wasn't enough, she suddenly realized. Not for him. A cold shiver up and down her spine. Was it always like that? He had kissed her shoulder and left the bed to take a shower. By the time he returned, she feigned sleep.

Lavinia considered that as she sipped her coffee. Why had she done that? Why had that thought crossed her mind?

Matthew looked up at her at that moment. He could see pain behind her eyes. Or was it an accusation?

Or was he just imagining it?

She gave nothing away. When had Lavinia learned to hide her true feelings?

Matthew imperceptibly shook those thoughts from his head. He had too much to do today. He scooped some of the eggs into his mouth. "I'm going to see Baxdale this morning. Go over some of the details of the hand over. Then the dinner at Downton."

His eyes beetled back and forth as he tried to sound casual about that. The invitation had come while he was in Europe. Lavinia had declined to go with him, as she said it sounded more of a business dinner and she was being invited out of courtesy. Matthew was more than a little relieved as the dinner would be awkward enough. Besides his growing feelings for Mary, feelings he had yet to completely sort out, he was loathed to confront Robert about his findings of misappropriation of funds at Grantham Inc. They were of such a scale that to Matthew's mind it was impossible Robert was not complicit. The more he researched the worse it got.

Matthew did, however, believe Lavinia should accompany him to meet Baxdale at Swire Inc.

"And you still want me to come with you." Lavinia finished Matthew's last thought.

"As it's your father's lawyer and your father's company I think he would want you present." Matthew still was not clear in his head why Lavinia was so resistant.

"Matthew, he gave the company to you." Lavinia was tired of this discussion. They had it in one form or another since the meeting with Charkram.

He gripped the fork so it shook slightly in his fist. "He gave me control over his shares in Swire Inc. It does not necessarily mean he intended me to become CEO."

"That's semantics. It means he wants you to take control over the board. He knew you were the best man for the job. Dad knew I didn't have any interest in being chair. Why is this so difficult? I trust you to do what you think best."

She rubbed her hand against his arm. He looked up, slightly startled at her act of affection.

"You seem so ambiguous regarding this windfall. I didn't want Dad's shares. He confided in me a while ago about it."

Which confirmed Matthew's suspicions. "Then why wasn't I informed? Why keep it from me?"

"You make it sound like such a conspiracy. It was nothing of the sort. He wanted time to adjust you to the idea of returning to Swire." She gripped his forearm with more force as some tears formed. "But that didn't happen…."

Matthew's eyes turned soft. "I'm so sorry Lavinia. For being so selfish on this. Of course that's why."

"I understand. We've both been through it in these past few weeks."

Matthew nodded, but knew he didn't deserve her empathy.

"I have meetings with the Head today. I might be in for a promotion as well." Lavinia grinned as she changed the subject.

He lifted an eyebrow at that. "She's finally retiring?" He had to laugh at that fact. This had been something they had anticipated for about two years.

"Yes." Lavinia cracked one of the first smiles he had seen in a very long time. They both had known Mrs. Fischer needed to leave school years ago. That Lavinia was doing most of her work anyway and deserved the advancement.

"It's just that…." Lavinia gave him a searching look. "I hope that's all it is?"

"What do you mean?" Matthew tried not to show his heart was in his throat as she asked that.

"I don't want to be in the way, Matthew. A nuisance. Don't ever let me get in the way. I couldn't bear that."

"Why would you say that?" He could hardly breathe.

Her eyes unblinking in response. "Because I sense it's close to the truth."

Matthew's mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. What was there to say?

"I'll be back late." He got up instead. He kissed her cheek. "Don't wait up." And he was gone.

Lavinia sat thoughtfully finishing up her cup of coffee. She then gathered herself together and made ready for her meeting with Mrs. Fischer.

Grief, she had discovered, had a way of making one stronger. She was ready for anything.

XX

Matthew pulled up onto the gravel drive. He had decided to drive at the last moment rather than take the train. He needed to collect some data on a jump drive in case Robert wanted to go over some facts and figures and by the time he finished loading it, it was too late to catch the train.

Even so, Matthew thought he made good time on the M1 up to York.

The door opened and a man stepped out. A rather grave faced, but friendly butler Matthew discovered.

"Mr. Matthew Crawley?" Carson asked.

Matthew walked across the gravel towards the massive oak and metal door. "I am."

The butler nodded. "You were expected, sir. But at 7:00pm."

Matthew glanced at his watch. 7:24. "Traffic," he offered with a lop sided smile.

He gave Matthew a grave look. Then cocked an eyebrow and said, "Such are the way of things now." And he guided the younger man into the house.

Downton Abbey was magnificent, Matthew realized. Managing to keep its period detail while moving effortlessly into the 21st century. The long road through the picturesque village and up and around the winding drive to the house had indicated the family had owned vast tracts of land in the previous centuries. The Grantham name appeared on store windows and on streets. The gate started about a mile from the house. The estate, though no longer as large as it was, still encompassed acres and acres of rivers, trees, and a bit of a remaining woodlands. The house had been built and rebuilt, but it still stood. The massive towered spires and chimneys giving the impression it intended to go on forever.

The house was very much like the family who inhabited it Matthew mused. They were all survivors.

But could it withstand yet another financial disaster? There were so very few of these old homes still with the original families.

Robert was worried. And Matthew knew full well that Lord Grantham had every right to be so.

Matthew entered the library after the recitation of his name.

They really do keep to the old ways, Matthew thought. Robert was not going to take his advice to retrench with any amount of ease.

But he was soon caught up in introductions to linger on those thoughts.

"Matthew do come in. You remember my wife, Lady Grantham."

"Matthew and I are old band groupie friends." And a dark haired woman stood up to take Matthew's outstretched hand in greeting.

"It was wonderful to find a kindred spirit." Matthew said easily.

"Papa surely is not." Said a more than familiar voice from behind his back. He twisted on his heels to see Mary. Their eyes flickered towards each other and then quickly away.

Robert grunted an approval. "Far too loud for my taste."

"You know Sybil." Mary tilted her head towards her younger sister.

Matthew smiled pleasantly. He liked her and wanted to get to know her better. Tom so seldom spoke of a young woman with as much passion as he did Sybil. He hoped they would make a go of it.

Sybil approached him. "Your wife couldn't make it?"

"No..." Matthew stammered. Why did he think Sybil had an ulterior motive by asking? "She had a big meeting at school and needed to prepare for an interview. She asked that I make her apologies."

Then the two sisters exchanged a glance Matthew did not understand. Mary sighed and met his eye. She shook her head imperceptibly and moved on, "This is my other sister Edith." She guided his look towards the window seat.

Edith got up and said, "I've heard so much about you I feel we've already met."

Matthew laughed nervously. These Crawley women were certainly going to keep him on his feet. "All good I trust?"

"That remains to be seen." Edith replied smoothly. "Sit next to me at dinner and we'll get more acquainted."

Mary was resigned to all her sisters giving Matthew the third degree. She told herself they were just looking after her. And maybe they were right to do so. She hated to admit how at sea she felt around him. She refused to believe she could fall for a man so easily.

A man so very wrong for her. She refused to be with a man who could control her emotions so easily. He manipulated her somehow. With his eyes and easy manner.

He must have done this before. With other women. He was lying when he told her otherwise. His guilty stares at the farm were a charade. To hide his duplicity. To make her play along.

It must be so.

They'd suss him out and then she'd be free of him. Somehow she'd find the funds to buy him out of her business and that would be that.

"I'd be delighted." Matthew responded to Edith's request.

"Come on then…we've waited long enough." Robert walked towards the dining room.

The meal went on with pleasant conversation. Mary said very little, especially to Matthew. Matthew was trying to keep up with Edith's questions about his education, his work, and his life goals.

"I can see why you're a journalist." He replied mischievously to Edith's observation that while Theresa May was a great choice as Prime Minster in wake of Brexit, the back room deals that brought the Foreign Minister into office would certainly undermine any confidence in the new government. "But in business we have to make sure our clients never notice any reason to question the long term stability of the British market."

"No matter what?" Sybil interrupted. "To the extend to cheating on them?"

Matthew nearly choked. What was she getting at? What did she know?

Mary heaved a sigh and said "Really Sybil. We have a guest to dinner. Please don't accuse him of anything untoward over the soufflé."

Robert grumbled an agreement. "We're never that unprincipled my dear. Just doing business."

Sybil let it go as she believed the point had been made. Matthew had gone white as a sheet.

Matthew recovered and smoothly changed the subject back towards Edith and her recent stay in South America.

The conversation flowed easily after until the time had come for the ladies to retire.

Matthew could hardly believe they still did such things. Until he realized it was done in order that he and Robert would remain behind.

This was the reason he had been invited after all.

Mary left, having exchanged barely a word with Matthew.

"Carson," Robert intoned, "We'll have the brandy." And he walked over to a table and carried a box back with him. Sat down across from Matthew.

"Cigar?" He opened the humidor. Matthew breathed in the aromatic Cohiba Habanos. He didn't really care for cigars, but it was part of the ways of doing business he had learned to tolerate.

"Thank you." And he also accepted the lighter and cutter. The cigar was of excellent quality. He drew the smoke into his mouth, then exhaled.

Carson poured two brandy snifters and retreated.

"So Matthew." Robert leaned forward. "About these findings you emailed me about."

Matthew hesitated to speak.

"We can talk more freely here than in the office. I … I would prefer it."

And Matthew caught just the edge of the despair in Robert's voice just then. So he started in with a mentally prepared statement on the current state of affairs at Grantham Inc. It was meant to be blunt but fair.

"Your assets are considerable. But they are stagnating at the moment. And your losses are considerable. Not necessarily from external forces but …" And here Matthew's jaw clenched in concern before continuing, "internal misappropriation and most certainly insider fraud."

"Those are quite the accusations." Robert replied. "But I thought you were hired only to give recommendations for future investments not to police my company." The edge of despair turning to ice Matthew noticed.

"I was." He replied smoothly. "But I've found that I cannot do the former without first investigating the latter. I'd make a poor advisor otherwise."

Robert grumbled an oath under his breath. "You're about to tell me that Jarvis is diverting funds to line his and his friends pocket. That they have fiddled the books to hide their activities all under my own nose."

Matthew realized he might just be playing the fall guy for Robert Crawley. That he'd be the one to give reason for Grantham to fire his own CFO so that his lordship could save face and blame the outsider. He pursed his lips in contempt.

"Well that's part of it…" Matthew tried to start again.

Robert pushed the brandy towards him. A satisfied look on his face. "You've done well. I'll take care of it from here."

"But that's not all," Matthew continued. "And you know it's not all." He could play this game as well. He pushed the decanter away.

"What are you saying?" Robert's voice cold.

Matthew sat up straighter. "If you strip the layers of the accounting, there are misappropriations of funds going back several years that have nothing to do with giving contractors favours or putting ghost employees on the books. This is more serious. And it's ruining your company."

Robert's look was angry and hooded. But Matthew continued. "Money is being taken out in the thousands of pounds. Some years it was only a few. But recently it was more. And while some of it was returned and hidden in the accounting, it's still obvious to anyone who looks. The recent skimming has not been paid back. It amounts to well over £140,000. Only someone very high up at Grantham could get away with that."

The two men faced off across the table.

"You are saying what exactly?" Robert asked through gritted teeth.

"I think you know very well." Matthew said with exacting calm.

He noticed Grantham's hand was shaking as he took the brandy to his lips.

Then Robert's face crumpled and his voice broke. "I know."

Matthew was relieved. He had dreaded some kind of confrontation with excuses and lies.

He waited for the older man to explain.

"I don't know how it go so out of hand." Robert blurted out. "I tried to put it back."

Matthew cast a dubious eye.

"I started a scheme with Harry Stoke to invest in some high risk leveraged oil ETF options."

"Risky is the word." Matthew replied dryly. "Harry Stoke, if you don't mind me saying, sounds like an inexperienced fool. So don't tell me, it failed."

Robert gulped the last of his drink. "Obviously."

Matthew waited again.

"I've made mistakes." Robert admitted. "But nothing I can't put to rights. Things just got out of hand for a while. Can I trust you Matthew? Man to man?"

Matthew's eyes grew wide. What kind of confession was he in store for? "Umm… sure."

"It's not what you think. I'm not siphoning money from the company for my own extravagant whims. It just got out of hand…" His voice barely a whisper. "A few years ago I had an a… a relationship with an employee at Downton, our Chief of Staff. She left after I ended it. But she was pregnant. Jane had a son." His eyes met Matthew's. "I have a son. I've been paying for his upkeep. And soon his schooling."

Matthew's throat was dry. He could hardly believe it. What was Robert saying. "How? How long?"

"Five years." Robert said. "I was handling it at first. Putting the money back as you said. But as his fees increased so did his needs. And then Downton's infrastructure was failing. Extensive dry rot and crumbling in the foundations." He laughed at the irony of that. "Rather like its owner."

"How did you think you'd get away with it?" Matthew had to ask.

Robert drew a short breath. "I don't know."

"Does…" Matthew stuttered. "Does Cora know? Or the family?"

"No." Robert replied reservedly. "And I'm not prepared to risk my marriage over it. I took you into my trust so you understand the predicament."

"I …understand?" Matthew asked cautiously. "For what?"

"So you can guide me into finding more secure investments in the future of course." Robert could not be more brutally honest.

Matthew started to speak but could not find the words. Was this his future? If he started some kind of tainted affair with Mary? The ruination of all their lives? The pittance of a few pounds a year in order to assuage his guilt over leaving her should the same circumstances arise? So he could go back and lie continuously to his wife for the rest of his life?

No…that was not the life he wanted.

"I can't do that Robert." Matthew finally retorted with more dynamism than he intended. "It's deplorable. You need to tell your wife of your indiscretion. Tell your family about this child. You need to somehow stop this embezzlement of your company's cash. Then and only then can you have any hope to keep your company solvent. You cannot continue to use it as your private bank …or to assuage your guilt through paying off your mistress while damaging every other part of your life."

"How dare you!" Robert spat out. "I told you this in confidence so you could see the situation clearly. I don't need you judging me or my decisions."

"Well they go hand in hand I'm afraid." Matthew snapped.

"Then we're done here." Robert stared across the table. "We no longer need your services."

Without another word Matthew pulled the chair away from the table and left the room. It was spinning. He had been completely blindsided by these revelations. They had been said by a desperate man.

He doubted Robert would ever want to see him again.

Matthew left without word to Carson or the rest of the family. He had hoped to get away without notice.

But May was outside.

Mary.

How was he to face her?

She walked towards him. He tried to pull himself together.

"Matthew," Mary's soft voice. The one that melted his soul. "I want to say how sorry I am for the death of Lavinia's father. It must be very hard on her."

Matthew pulled at his cheeks with his fingers. He didn't quite trust his voice yet. "Thank you." He managed to say. "She's pulling through."

"But there's something else?" Mary sensed. "Is it to do with what you had to tell Papa? I know that's why he brought you here."

"Your father and I didn't see eye to eye as predicted. I told him of my findings. That's all I can say to you at the moment. You… you must ask him. I can't say any more." Matthew wanted to be anywhere else than standing here knowing what he knew about her father's infidelity.

Knowing his own thoughts were much the same.

Who was he to judge another man's actions?

He had only his own to account for.

"I will." Mary responded evenly. "But do you have to rush off so soon? I know we… " She paused. Was she really having to ask him. "We have some things to talk about ourselves. I had hoped at the very least we could be friends." She wanted so much more. She wasn't sure she could deny it. She wanted to own him body and soul. But at the very least, she wanted him still in her life.

Matthew's wild expression bewildered Mary. As did the seeming finality of his response when it came.

He scoffed bitterly and said, "I don't think we will ever be friends." She was so close to him; he could feel her. Catch a whiff of her evocative perfume. Oh God he wanted her. "I must go." And he turned on his heels in the gravel drive and opened the door to the Porsche and got inside. He turned the car towards the gate and drove away.

Mary stood alone for a long time as the evening waned into night.

So was that to be the end?

XX