XX

"Mr. Crawley…" Millie called out with a merry laugh. "I can hear you again." The young artist Mary had hired was working on a design for the boy's playroom separated from their bedroom by a half wall.

"Sorry…" Came the half-muttered reply from the next room. Matthew had promised not to be so explicit in his verbal barrage of swear words against the stupidity of the directions attempting to guide him into putting together the pieces of the two cots that were, as of this moment, still spread around the room.

He was failing miserably in that promise.

The first problem arose when Tom and Matthew tried to get the bulky boxes up narrow stairs of the old house.

"Seize it!" Tom yelled out as Matthew's hand slipped on the bottom of the cot box. "I told you we should have taken the pieces out of the packaging first."

"If you just pivot around the corner I can get it up the stairs." Matthew's tense voice ordered. "Pivot!"

Matthew hadn't wanted to mix up the parts of the cots so he suggested taking each up in their boxes before taking out any of the individual bits.

Tom had warily looked up the narrow staircase of Crawley House but agreed.

And then they realized they needed more tools than those Matthew had brought up earlier. So Tom had gone down to his car to fetch the tool kit he had brought along.

Matthew had been left on his own to start.

And then the cursing began.

He organized into neat piles all of the screws, nuts, bolts, hooks, and rod angles. In a separate part of the room were the panels, headboards, and footboards.

Separate still were the pieces to smaller bedside cribs that would join them in their own bedroom for late night feedings.

He began to wonder if Mary had chosen these cots and beside the bed cribs just to test his near OCD tendencies.

"Got it." Tom's voice from the staircase. "It was in my tool kit." He waved the screwdriver in triumph as he re-entered the bedroom. In stepping into the room he walked over Matthew's just completed piles of hardware.

"Fuck it Tom…" Matthew lashed out. "Watch where the fuck you're walking!"

He then lifted his head in utter frustration. "Sorry. Again." He called out to Millie in the next room.

And to Tom. Who was looking on with such a look of get your head out of your ass it struck Matthew as incredibly funny. He started to laugh.

At himself.

At this situation.

He was an Oxford educated lawyer. Chosen by UK Business Matters Magazine as one of the best entrepreneurs under 35.

And these cots were going to defeat him utterly.

He held out his arms in a gesture of surrender. "Damn it I'm sorry Tom. I will buy us a round or two after all this is over. Mary's not expected back until tomorrow night so we'll grab a meal at the Downton Arms."

"Let's get to it then." Tom reached for a side panel while holding out his other hand with the screwdriver.

Matthew took the tool from Tom's hand and grabbed a handful of the screws and rod angles to put the left side of cot together.

XX

Mary sat next to Sybil.

Cora and Edith sat opposite.

Mary didn't want to intrude on her mother's thoughts.

Sybil and Edith were silent as well.

Each of the daughters looked at the other. Mary had been surprised her mother invited herself and her sisters to this kind of a retreat at the Gallery Bed and Breakfast in Thirsk. But she readily agreed. It would be their last real chance to be together without two, admittedly adorable but loud and time consuming, babies. Cora had returned to the UK a few days before and settled down with her friends in Ripon. Then out of the blue she called up Mary and asked if she was free for the week end.

It was the one chosen by Matthew to put the cots and cribs together so he told her it would be perfect. He and Tom would not get under her feet as they worked.

Crawley House, as much as Mary hated to admit, was a perfect location. Close to the nearby village as well as a short drive to the back entrance to Downton. They had moved in on Monday, bringing only boxes of clothes and personal items. Mary chose a few select paintings and vases from Downton to bring, but most everything else was new. Endless lorries had arrived in the past ten days bringing furniture, fittings, and fixtures for every room in the house. Mary was convinced her new neighbours would hate them. But instead she found them all quite welcoming. Glad that a member of the Crawley family had once again taken up residence in the historic home.

And Mary, oddly, did feel at home. Maybe it was just the age to the walls and windows of Crawley House, or the few precious reminders of home she brought. But once everything had been opened and put in its place, she was happy.

Matthew and she and stood back, finally alone after the movers had left. There was still a great deal to do upstairs. And Matthew's office was still a right mess. He hated it but had spent the time finishing the downstairs day nursery room while Mary oversaw the whole floor plan they had created with the design team. It had been tricky fitting some of the furniture they wanted in the smaller spaces, but it had been done as specified.

Mary had leaned into Matthew's arms. "Home." Her own voice unexpectedly content.

Matthew picked up on the tone. It pleased him. His hands squeezed her shoulders. "Happy?"

She turned and his arms embraced her around her back. "I'm as big as a hippo and as grumpy as a bear." Her nose tickled as she rubbed his chest. His arms squeezed harder. "I'm more surprised than anyone that I agreed to move out of a much larger space."

His deep chuckle met her ear as it came to rest against his heart.

"But yes. I am very happy with how everything has turned out." She looked up to see his face.

"I'm am too." Matthew's lopsided smile greeted her eyes. His own twinkled bright.

They kissed.

"Is your father going to be alright with us gone now?" He asked quietly.

Mary did not have an answer. Matthew had not been at Downton when she said her good-bye. He had already been at the new house guiding the movers to put the corner sofa sectionals in the right spot under the window facing the gardens.

Mary had reminded her father that "of course she was only down the road."

But they both knew this was kind of an end. Even when Mary had her place in London, she always kept her room at Downton.

And now all her clothes were gone. The night table bereft of all her personal items. Her favorite gift from her grandmother, an Edwardian necklace of a long gold chain with ruby pendant, removed from the drawer where she always kept it.

"I shall miss you my dear." Robert said. "Even if you are just down the road. I know I've not been the best company …" He shook his head. "I don't know how to put any of this right."

"It's going to take time with Mama." Mary replied as gently as she could. "She's had quite a shock. We all have. There's a great deal to process. She thought it all behind her. So to realize not only were you unfaithful, you had a hidden child as well. A child, Papa. One we knew nothing about. A brother."

"I didn't know how to tell you all." Robert started to rub his forehead. "The longer I put off telling you the easier it became to rationalize. And then Jane got sick. And the bills mounted."

Mary, despite herself, hated hearing her father saying the name of his lover out loud. It seemed such a betrayal.

"You only told us after Matthew baldly stated how bad your finances are. And even then you waited so long you got a perforated ulcer." She didn't want to leave on a bad note, but her father seemed not to understand. "You can't just believe we'd accept it and move on." She started to get up from the salon divan.

"It all snowballed." Robert looked wearily in the direction of his daughter. He waved his hand in front of his face. "I'd rather not talk about this with you. You're my daughter. It's awkward. Matthew knows more about this…"

Mary sharply turned her head back towards Robert. "What do you mean?" Each word tersely spoken.

"He knows what it's like keep secrets from those he loves… erm… loved." Robert's mouth snapped shut as Mary's nostrils flared at that divulgence. His shoulders sagged.

Mary blinked rapidly. But she regained her composure. Wouldn't let her father see she was completely taken aback by the significance of that revelation. "Be that as it may, you're going to have to get used to talking to us all about it."

She started to leave. But then said, "I don't want to leave with harsh words Papa. You know we all love you. Mama too." She put her arm on his sleeve. "We'll get through it."

"Your mother is keeping herself away from me. Even now as she's coming home to be with you, she'll not stay here…" Robert choked out the last words.

"Can you really blame her? She's not ready." Mary tried to be soothing. But her father had to see the truth. "It will take time."

"I will wait." Robert stood and kissed his daughter on the cheek. "Go to your new life. We'll talk again."

She gave her father a half smile. "We'll have lots of time Papa. I'm not far away at all."

XX

And now here she was with her mother. Also barely speaking. And her father's last words still reeling in her mind. Matthew knew how to keep secrets. He had kept his passion for her from his wife. Even as they remained married.

Her father had done much worse.

Or was it all the same to the woman scorned?

To Lavinia?

To Cora?

Mary glanced over at her mother's pain etched face.

She didn't think of Mary as the other woman? The one who destroyed a marriage?

Mary was not great on self-reflection. And she had more of it in the past ten months or so than in any other part of her life. Get on with living she'd usually say. No point moaning or angsting about past wounds or bad decisions. Maybe it was her training as an athlete that instilled it in her. You are taught to move on.

Leave the past in the dust.

She knew Matthew didn't blame her. Or want her to feel any guilt.

He was the one who shouldered all the guilt.

And Mary let him.

And that, she now reflected, was unfair.

Could she understand her mother's position?

She wasn't Cora. A wife of long standing who thought she knew exactly where her husband's affections lay. Only to have the shifting sands reveal otherwise.

Did her mother hold any hidden resentments against her?

As if Cora read her mind, she began to speak. "Edith dear. Sybil. Would you give me some time alone with Mary? I have missed you all, but there are some things we need to discuss. Go have a drink at that restaurant we saw walking over here, and then in about an hour we'll all get together for a meal. Mary and I will meet you there."

"Yes Mama." Edith answered for both. She lightly smacked her younger sister on the shoulder to get up. Reluctantly Sybil got up. She kissed her mother's cheek, threw Mary a confused look, but followed Edith outside.

"Mama?" Mary inquired somewhat nervously. "What has to be said in secret?"

"Private, Mary. Not secret. There is a difference." Cora moved closer to Mary on the sofa.

"I suppose. But it could also be called parsing words. Something Matthew and Isobel point out all the time." She grunted in slight pain.

"Are you feeling well?" Cora asked, ignoring for the moment Mary's objections.

"Yes." Mary grunted again, rubbed her abdomen. "They're just active." She lurched a bit as a spasm struck her lower back. She waved some loose strands of hair back across her head. And pulled herself back against the sofa to get more comfortable.

"We can postpone this talk if you need to nap." Cora's eyes grew anxious.

"No. You're not changing the subject. I think we need to talk as well. Papa wanders around the house, hardly sleeping. Driving us crazy with rambling memories. Neither Matthew nor I know what to say. We don't know what to tell him. Everyone keeping secrets. It's no good for anyone. Because it is the secrecy you're objecting to the most?"

"As you say everyone keeps secrets. Sometimes it's done to protect your love ones from hard truths they'd rather not face."

"Like Matthew?" Mary asked abruptly.

Cora replied politely, "If you wish."

"What's that supposed to mean Mama?" Mary had to have an answer to this question that had plagued her since the conversation with her father. "Do you think we've been selfish in our desire to be together? That he's just as bad as Papa? And I'm the other woman? One who led Matthew astray from his secure marriage?"

"Have you even considered it?" Cora asked brusquely. "You have many fine qualities Mary. But you do tend to consider your own self-interests first."

Mary knew that to be true. "I… " Closing her eyes to focus her thoughts. "It was never intentionally done to hurt Lavinia."

"I know that dearest." Cora's voice tried to moderate. "It's just difficult at times for me anymore to tell the difference. It almost doesn't matter if it was intentional or not. The fact is you and Matthew did. I was at that dinner where Lavinia was present. It was clear to anyone with eyes that you two orbited around each other like you existed on a world in which you two were the only inhabitants. Everything else fell away when your eyes met. At the time I thought it was just an infatuation, and then when we talked about him being married and you denied any relationship, I realized you were already in too deep."

Mary was on the verge of tears. Something that wasn't new anymore. She seemed to tear up at the drop of a hat. "There was no relationship at the time. And I certainly didn't lead Matthew on to expect anything."

"No?"

Mary blinked to hold back any more display of tears. "We kissed." Saying it almost belligerently. "That was it. It was a spontaneous thing."

"When did it happen?" Cora trying not to sound to interrogatory, but failing. She reached out to take Mary's hand instead. "Just tell me."

"We had gone to see Will Mason. About Jellybean. I was teaching Matthew a bit about riding around the livery yard. He helped me down off the horse…" She had to cop to it. Her shoulders sagged, "We both wanted to kiss."

"And he was still married at the time."

"Yes." Mary's hand covered her mother's. "It does seem damning. But we were never deliberately cruel. Matthew feels awful about it. He's learned to accept that he doesn't deserve any forgiveness from Lavinia. As soon as he could he asked for the divorce."

"And yourself?"

"His wife has every right to hate me. But I took it no farther than that kiss until Matthew came to me saying he had told Lavinia everything and that he had left her and was pursuing a divorce. I think that is very different than what Papa did. Than what Jane did. They continued to lie. To cover up an affair. A child. We did none of that."

"That's very true. And I don't want to see any comparisons. I see how wonderful you and Matthew are together. How very much in love. How he did the right thing and proposed marriage. And now your children…" She gripped Mary's hands. "It's just still so raw for me. I'm finding it very hard to see past any of this. People hurting people."

"Your time away in America?" Mary asked. "Did it help you see any clarity? About what you want to do?"

"I spent some time with a therapist. She and I talked about a great many things. How I didn't have to forgive to move on. Or to accept. When I first arrived I was still in shock. That's why I didn't call or text anyone more than I had to. I had to work some things out. You see I knew your father had the affair. And I learned to live with it without ever telling him I knew. I'm not saying I am to blame for subsequent events like his ulcerations but maybe if I had been more open to marriage counseling or something maybe it could have helped. I'll never know. I didn't believe Robert would ever agree to go."

Mary just sat back and let her mother talk. There was so much to know and now it all spilled forth.

"Carla tried to get me to see to the root of the affair. The minutiae of detail back six, seven years ago. I didn't want to accept that I was to blame…"

Mary scoffed. "You're not. Papa is."

"True. But our marriage was in a bad place. You were so focused on your horse riding none of us wanted to interfere in that. And Sybil had moved out to uni. Edith traipsing all over the globe. I was at loose ends. We drifted. I'm not saying he's not solely responsible for his actions. He is. And that's what I'm having trouble getting over to move into the next phase. Carla says being polarized into I'm the good wife and he's the adulterer is not going to heal anything."

"None of us like to think we're to blame for causing hurt in others. Papa is miserable. Part of me thinks 'Good he deserves to wallow.' But then it does no good. He's hurting. He feels true remorse I think." Mary continued to hold Cora's hand. "He knows his secrecy was wrong. He was doing it because he didn't know how to stop. How to come clean without hurting everyone all over again. Matthew has said it was the secrecy that killed him inside. And Papa kept it for so long. He managed to hurt everyone many times over. Including himself."

"And now what?" Cora asking herself as much as Mary. "How does one move on?"

"I don't know Mama. Do you want to move on? I mean without Papa?" Even saying it, Mary's throat constricted in pain. But it was not her decision.

"I'm here to find that out." Cora concluded. "I thought after the twins were born and you and Matthew more settled into parenting that Robert and I might go away. Away from Downton, from memories. Scotland maybe. Or the Lake District. Not too far away, mind. I don't want to be out of touch with you. But far enough so we can have privacy. Thrash it out. One way or the other. Because I can't just leave it like it is."

She paused. "And then there's Peter."

Mary looked up. "You want to meet him?"

"He is family. And your father's heir to the title. And none of this is his fault. He's just lost his mother. He's so young and innocent. I think about him I admit."

"So do we all." Mary confessed. "Sybil, Edith, and I talked about him while I was showing them around Crawley House. We agreed it was best to let things lie right now. Let some time pass."

"Yes. I think your father and I should approach his newly adopted parents first. When the time seems right." .

"You and Papa? You can step away. As he's no direct relation to you."

Cora's forehead creased in consternation. "No. I couldn't do that. I wouldn't feel right. We need to do this as a family. Your father will need someone to help him."

And even though Mary said nothing else, for fear of jinxing her mother's newfound insight, she took a twinge of hope in the idea that Cora could not yet conceive of her life separate from that of her family.

XX

Matthew got up to get the round for himself and Tom. The next one up was a microbrew pale ale had a bit of citrus and bitterness and yet underscored with malt. They had happened on a tasting of a diverse selection of liqueurs, cocktails, whiskys, and beers at the pub down stairs from the Downton Arms. Still a bit unusual for this part of the UK, Tom and Matthew partook with gusto.

What Mary didn't know…Matthew reasoned. He had been mostly good on the no alcohol pledge. But this was too good an opportunity to miss.

And frankly even though there was the attempt at making it an official tasting event, most everyone just drank a glass of every option available.

The cots were done. Finally. And they were celebrating their victory.

"So you're telling me Nick and Leo are having a baby?"

"Adopting," Tom corrected pedantically.

"You know what I mean." Matthew put the glass to his lips. "Well that's great."

Tom said, "That makes it all the more likely Mika's plan will come together."

"The on-site child care center? It's a great idea. And a good incentive for new hiring. Now that we've got over 100 employees it makes more and more sense."

"Mika's spearheading the committee finding space on the second floor. It should be up and running by later this year."

"I like the idea of families at CB Properties. Wish I had thought of it sooner."

Tom replied, "We didn't need it when we started out."

"True." Matthew answered thoughtfully. "A lot was different then.

Tom took a bite of the cod fillet of his fish and chips. "Agatha crocheted two baby blankets by the way. She's packaged them up as well. I've got them in the back of the car."

"That was nice of her." Matthew smiled. "Tell her how much we appreciate her kindness."

Matthew was tapping his beer glass.

"We closed on that freehold property in Hammersmith. The one the owner was holding out on. It can be converted from the garage into any kind of development scheme. The investment yield looks really promising."

"Good. Good." Matthew nodded. "Did we get any chance on that residential unit in Islington?"

"No." Tom grimaced. "Swire got it first. They're bigger than ever now that they've taken over Grantham."

Didn't Matthew know that all too well. "That was to be expected. We just need to shift our vision elsewhere."

"We?" Tom reminded him. "You're on a leave of absence."

"Matthew rolled his eyes. "I know. But I want to keep a hand in as well. I can do both."

Tom looked doubtful but let it go.

"How's it going with Sybil?" Matthew changed the subject.

Tom shrugged. "We've agreed to start seeing other people. She doesn't want to be tied down she says. But I think it's because she likes one of the other residents at the hospital. They did some kind of solo surgery together and grabbed a drink after."

"Sorry." Matthew muttered under his breath. "Mary never said."

"I don't think she knows. I'm just going to let it play out. If we're right for each other, it'll work out."

"That's quite understanding I must say." Matthew responded.

"Besides," Tom tipped his head towards the blonde at the bar, "two can play that game. Excuse me."

And as Matthew gave a snort of laughter, Tom got up to walk towards the woman who had been giving him lingering looks all evening.

Matthew sat back against the back of the booth. Finished his drink and contemplated switching to one of the distilled whiskies on offer. The smooth single malt Speyside beckoned in particular.

He walked over to get a glass and ended up in a deep discussion with the owner of the distillery. It turns out he and his son were looking for properties in central London as well as other major cities around the UK to expand their whisky bars. Matthew had a couple of ideas in mind around Notting Hill or Clapham Junction.

"Let me talk to a couple of my contacts. We could take a tour of some properties the next time I'm in London."

Matthew took the man's business card. Headed back to the booth to finish the last drink and get back to Crawley House in time to talk to Mary before it was too late and she was fast asleep.

He had lost track of time talking. The ideas percolating in his head wouldn't stop. This would be quite a coup for CB if they landed this client.

Matthew fingered the business card in his hand. Winding and turning it. "I thought we could start on that corner property on Ledbury Road."

Tom couldn't get a word in edgewise as Matthew spat out idea after idea. His voice animated. Energetic.

And then Matthew stopped suddenly. His eyes darkened, and started to move rapidly left to right.

His fingers still twisted the card. In and out.

Matthew became lost in his own thoughts. After several moments passed he looked up.

His fingers stopped twisting the card. The card of the new client.

It would be an exciting prospect. One he would normally have leapt onto. Never believing anyone else could handle the work load.

But this was not normal circumstances anymore.

This was his new self. His new circumstances.

The one he looked forward to like nothing else in his life.

Mary.

The children.

So instead of putting it in his pocket, Matthew held the card between his fingers and then deliberately laid it down flat on the table. And using his index finger moved the card across to Tom.

"Find someone in the office to take this on." Matthew's voice was steady despite the potency of that single malt. "I think it's an opportunity for one of the new high fliers don't you think?"

Tom smiled in understanding and replied, "I have just the person in mind."

And Matthew got up. "I've got to go. Mary's expecting me to call and the din in this place won't let either of us hear the other."

"I'll be leaving in the morning now that we've put the cots together. You coming to London next week like you said?"

"No." Matthew announced. "I'm going to stay. You can handle it without me. I'm needed here."

Tom and Matthew shook hands. "Thanks for all your help." Matthew said.

"Anytime." Tom replied dryly. "Except for babysitting. My mother might have had six of us, but I can barely handle feeding the stray cats."

Matthew's eyes widened. "It's going to be a disaster in the beginning I fear. But we'll get a handle on it all soon enough. Or at least I hope we will."

He laughed somewhat nervously and took his leave of the pub to return to Crawley House.

The present being the best time as any to make good on all his promises. Shedding his guilt over responsibilities in London, he opened the front door and sank down onto the new sofa and clicked Mary's mobile number.

"Hello darling," He said, his voice breathless with love. "I've missed you so much."

XX

So ok… awkward dinner yet to come… and maybe an appearance by a new character… or two!

In the live and learn category- UK cots are cribs in the US and cribs are bassinet. This is my new understanding.

Thank you so much for reading. And reviewing! 😊

Not so hidden Easter egg tv reference for those who know the scene..lol.