Hi Everyone! Thanks for all the lovely reviews- they definitely made me smile. When I posted the last chapter I was struggling to decide what to do after graduation which was why I was sad (big decisions are stressful)- but I've decided to move to Ireland next year for a fellowship, so I'm pretty excited about that. My senior thesis is due in a few weeks though, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have for free writing, so if updates get a bit more spotty- that's why.
There is one paragraph in this chapter that is completely ridiculous and filled with puns that you will understand if you've seen a certain musical... I'm not sure if I should apologize for that- but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
Chapter 4: Phase Four- Give it a Second Try
Matthew stood waiting at the Alice in Wonderland statue where he had said he would meet Mary. He was delicately trying to balance two cups of Starbucks coffee, while keeping William's leash around his wrist. Mary was supposed to be here ten minutes ago and both William and Matthew were starting to get antsy.
Tom had called him the night before and he had spilled the whole story to him. Tom had berated him for his callousness towards Mary. He'd encouraged him to look up some actual facts about Mary, other than the stuff they'd read in tabloids. Matthew felt rather chagrined to find that Mary had studied at an Ivy League university and was starting her own handbag line. Clearly the real Mary Crawley was far more clever than the press was giving her credit for. He felt awful about how the date the day before had gone. He had meant what he said though; he wanted to get to know who Mary truly was. Tom had called back the next morning and insisted that Matthew go out of his way to make it up to her. Matthew wasn't entirely sure how to apologize. But he figured buying her Starbucks was a start.
"There you are," Mary said, her voice bright, coming up from behind him, taking him by surprise.
He turned slowly as to not let the Starbucks mugs tumble down. He was not going to disappoint her again.
"I wasn't entirely sure you'd show up," Matthew said, taking her in.
She was dressed more casually today. She had on black jeans that framed her legs perfectly. She had had on a light blue top, slight cropped so that revealed a tiny strip of her stomach, a nod to the theoretical spring weather. Over it was a blue jacket made out of some exotic material that Matthew couldn't place. Her loafer shoes were nearly the same color, made out of suede. A handbag, likely one of her own design, was over one of her shoulders. He wondered if Daisy was inside. Her whole look had this lovely cohesion to it that impressed him. He was beginning to realize that Mary had an impeccable attention to detail, especially in clothing (though he didn't doubt it extended beyond that). Whether he had intended to or not, he already admired her greatly.
Mary shrugged with a coy smile, "I should hate to be predictable."
He looked at her hand, which she was raising with a smile. She was also holding two cups of a coffee.
"I brought these as a-," he started, holding up his cups.
"As a peace offering?" Mary laughed.
"Exactly," Matthew said.
"Well it seems you beat me to it," Mary laughed.
"And I put so much work into this," Matthew said, surprised by Mary's enthusiasm, but warming to it, "I searched all over the internet to see what Mary Crawley orders at Starbucks."
"That's quite clever," Mary said, "I just had Sybil ask Tom."
"I think you have me beat for cleverness," Matthew admitted, wishing he could express to her how much he thought so.
They looked down at the cups uncomfortably.
"What do we do with them now?" Matthew said, feeling rather foolish with four cups of coffee for two people.
"Aren't you the humanitarian?" Mary teased, "Surely we could find someone who could use a surprise cup of coffee."
"That's rather kind of you," Matthew said, as they looked around for someone to give their coffee to.
"Does that surprise you?" Mary asked, with a low laugh.
Matthew smiled at her, not answering, as he noticed to two parents who were pouring over a New York City map while trying to keep their three toddlers from running everywhere. Matthew walked over and passed his coffees off to them, pausing to ask if they needed help with directions, before returning to Mary.
"Shall we walk?" Mary asked, passing him one of the coffees she got for him.
"Lead the way," Matthew said.
They started walking in silence beside each other, William a few steps ahead. Matthew couldn't stand it.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," He said, "I truly am. What you said-"
"You should learn to forget what I say," Mary said, looking down, "I know I do."
Matthew looked at her. There was a great deal of sadness inside Mary, he realized. For a woman so famous, so smart, so successful- it seemed like she carried around huge burdens. He wasn't quite sure what they were, but her explosion last night at dinner did seem to be an indication.
"What you say is important to me," He said firmly, "Like I said last night, I want to get to know you, Mary. The real you. Whatever I thought I knew about you, I'm going to forget it."
"That's kind of you, Matthew," Mary said, taking a sip of her drink.
"I'm very sorry I make you angry," Matthew said.
"My life makes me angry. Not you," Mary offered.
"Tell me," Matthew said, his voice becoming soft.
"I just don't think I need a man to solve my problems," Mary said, "I mean you seem kind and smart. You seem to be quite successful at saving the world. I'm happy to have made your acquaintance. But there is something very, I don't know, 1900's about hiring a man to fix your problems. I want people to respect me because I am a person of substance not because I'm dating a certain person. Do you see why that upsets me?"
Matthew understood well. Mary had every right to be upset about that.
"I'm sorry it worked out this way," Matthew said sincerely, "If there is anything I can do to help-"
"You can't," Mary said, "We are both already in this too deep. It's unfortunate, but true. The press have already published stuff about seeing us out last night. We have to do this for real. Not just for me, but for you too."
"Well you seem like a lovely, smart woman," Matthew said, "Maybe we just pretend we are on a real date and go from there."
"So what would we do, if this was a real date?" Mary asked, smiling. She seemed like she was starting to trust him just a bit at least.
"I would ask you about your work. You design handbags? In Paris?" Matthew said.
"That's right," Mary replied.
She launched into a description about her work. She talked about the difficulties of starting up her own line. Her family name both a help and hindrance when it came to breaking into the scene. It gave her recognition, but also held her back from being taken seriously. That seemed to be a reoccurring problem for Mary.
"Your sister," Matthew said, "Edith? She is hardly in the press ever, unless it's about her writing. Could you do what she did? Just move some place far away."
Mary shook her head, "It seems nice, doesn't it? In many ways I envy for her for being able to hide away in Yorkshire and write her novels. But the fashion scene is in Paris, so I've got to stay there if I want to get anything done."
"That's ashame," Matthew said.
"Not always. I adore Paris. I was one of those kids who grew up wanting to live in Paris," she said, "I did a year abroad there in university and of course when I got there I realized that it smells more like cigarettes and piss than flower stands and perfume. But it's still beautiful- there is always art and music and delicious food. I can't give it up, no matter what I do."
"That sounds quite nice," Matthew remarked. He wanted to know more about Mary's world.
"Have you been to Paris before?" Mary asked.
"A bit, yes, stuff with UNESCO now and then," Matthew explained, "Just business really. Seeing the sights if I got a chance, but nothing really more than that."
"Well," Mary said, "You'll have to see it sometime."
Matthew remembered what her father had said. Mary would invite him to Paris after tomorrow's date. But they were on real date, not a contrived one. So he didn't say that I knew that he would be there too.
He just said, "I'd like that very much."
Because it was true, all of sudden he wanted to know Mary's Paris. He wanted to discover what about it made her dream of it, even when her romantized version of the city faded.
Matthew didn't want to admit it, or maybe just a little bit of him did, but he was becoming more and more interested in Mary's world. Her life was chaotic, but she was still trying to make her world beautiful.
"Have you a favorite book about Paris?" Matthew asked her. She had clearly proved herself plenty intelligent, so he thought literature might be a nice place to sway the conversation.
"Do you La Dame Aux Camelias?" Mary asked, her accent perfect.
"The lady of the Camelias?" Matthew repeated, translated. "Camelias are?"
"Flowers," Mary explained. "It's by Alexandre Dumas Fils. It takes place in the Belle Epoque. It's about a high class prostitute who falls in love with an ordinary man."
Matthew looked up at her and wondered if she was thinking of herself. It sounded similar, woman made to look bad by society, that was Mary, wasn't it? But who was the man?
"But the story turns rather tragic," Mary went on, "She dies of tuberculousis."
Suddenly, everything shifted in Matthew's head.
He wasn't in the park anymore. The spring air was replaced by the cold, sterile smell of the hospital. The feeling of being hot and cold all at once. The whirling noise of medical machines that were keeping him alive. Fighting for every breath. Then learning that somewhere in the same hospital, Lavinia had lost her fight.
The memories hit him all at once and washed over him. The guilt. So much guilt.
He thought he'd be able to escape here, in the park, in the city, with Mary. At least the good part of Mary's arrival in his life is that it had wholly distracted him from the guilt that had been swirling around his life for months now. But all of a sudden it was back in full force.
He swayed a bit on the spot, lost in the memories, when he felt Mary's cold hand on cheek. She steadied him. He closed his eyes and focused on her touch. He was here. He was with Mary. He wasn't in a hospital. He wasn't sick anymore.
"Shh," Mary said, her voice soothing, "Breath. You're safe. You're okay."
He took breaths, trying to push the images away.
"I'm sorry," He said softly, feeling silly.
"Don't be," Mary whispered back.
"I feel rather stupid," He admitted, blinking his eyes open again.
She took her hand from his face, and he felt himself sink a bit. But she took his hand and squeezed it, before pulling him over to a bench. William trailed after them.
"It's my fault. I shouldn't have mentioned that, should I?" Mary said, hesitant, "It must have triggered something?"
Matthew sank into seat of the bench and sat beside him. She crossed her legs and leaned back, but never let go of his hand.
"Yeah," Matthew said, "It's been getting better recently. But after she died, I just- I- I'm sorry. I really can't talk about this. Not quite yet."
"It's okay," Mary said, "Lucky for us, we've plenty of time before us with only each other for company. So we can talk of it another time, or never really, if you prefer that."
"Thank you," Matthew said, giving Mary a small, gracious smile.
"Do you want to hold Daisy?" Mary asked. "I know it sounds silly, but there is something really therapeutic about holding her."
Matthew laughed, "Sure, why not?"
Mary smiled and lifted the small rabbit out of her bag.
"Here, see, how I'm holding her?" Mary asked, showing how she cradled her, "It's easy, I promise."
Mary placed the rabbit in Matthew arms. The small animal felt warm inside his arms. He petted her and he felt a sense of calm settle over him. He wasn't particularly keen on small animals normally, but he liked Daisy. He understood why Mary carried her around all the time.
"This is very soothing," He commented.
"Good," Mary said, "That's what I think. That's why I go to all the trouble to carrying her around."
Matthew wondered what sorts of things sent Mary into a panic. Why did she need to carry around Daisy to stay calm?
"Did you make the bag for her yourself?" Matthew said, "It can't be easy to keep her safe if you take her around a lot."
Mary nodded, "It was one of my early lines when I was start off. I did a bunch of bags for animals- little dogs, cats, even one that has a water panel for fish, and then of course one for Daisy. There were lots of bags that obviously for pets, but I wanted to make something a little more couture and subtle. It's got ventilation and panels that pull out for cleaning, so the bag stays sanitary. It's been pretty successful. You'd be surprised the amount of people who want to take their small animals with them places."
"That's brilliant," Matthew said. The day before, her bunny and her handbags had seemed stupid, but today Matthew had a whole different appreciation for Mary Crawley.
"What about William?" Mary asked, "Does he travel with you a lot?"
Matthew shook his head, "I do a bit of travel for work or charity, but my mother lives in town so she watches him when I'm away."
"That's nice, to have family in town to do that," Mary said.
"Do you have family in Paris?" Matthew asked.
"Not at all," Mary said, her eyebrows dancing, "But that's for the best."
He thought of how controlling her mother had been and her father's wacky e-mails. He could understand that.
He smiled at her, "Today has been really lovely."
"I know," Mary said, "I thought it might be too cold. Late April is always a bit of a toss up really. Sometimes the rain is quite awful."
"Not the weather," He said, "You. It has been really lovely spending time with you."
Mary cocked her head to the side in surprise, as if she was trying to figure out if he was acting or telling the truth. To be honest, Matthew didn't even know.
"I was wondering if I could see you again tomorrow," Matthew asked, throwing a bit of a smirk into his statement, knowing it wasn't a surprise. But as long as they were pretending this was a real date he might as well go with it. He searched his pockets for the tickets.
"Is that so?" Mary said, pressing her lips together into a smile back.
"I have these ticket to a play," He said, "A musical on Broadway. It's got lots of good reviews. Are you up for it?"
"With you?" she said, her voice sincere, "Of course."
The next day the car dropped Mary off at the theater. She and Matthew had been planning on driving together, but sometime had come up at work for Matthew, so he was going to take a cab and meet her there. It was a warm night, so she decided to wait outside for him and take in city around her. The theater was decked out in gold with black stars, which seemed like some sort of motif for the show.
Yesterday had gone very well, Mary had decided. Her father's advice had been perfect. Make him fall in love with you.
It had been hard at first to figure it out. She had been quite frosty the day before, so she couldn't come in full force. The coffees were a nice touch and so was their walk and light conversation through the park. She had been thinking she was doing a good job.
And then Matthew had had that moment of flashback, or panic, or whatever it had been. Mary had been thrown. She'd calmed him down, led him to a bench. She had even give him Daisy to hold.
It had been a sweet moment. But what of it? Why had she done that?
Had it been part of the plan to get him to fall for her? If it was, it kind of made her a shitty person. Taking advantage of his moment of weakness and exploiting it for her own gain- that was pretty low- even for Mary Crawley.
But what if it wasn't that? What if she cared, just a tiny bit, for Matthew? He had certainly been better company yesterday than he had been the day before. He was attractive and smart. He was both the kind of guy who was below her, socially, but yet was still unattainable a different way. A guy like Matthew would never give her a chance if he wasn't bribed to.
She couldn't possibly be falling for Matthew Crawley. She couldn't possibly be falling for someone that her family had ordered her to date. That wasn't possible.
"Mary!" Hollered his voice and Mary looked up to see Matthew coming down the street.
Regardless of what of she thought, it didn't matter now, it was show time.
"Darling," She exclaimed back to him, as he approached. She pressed a light kiss to his cheek and took his hand. That would look good if there was anyone around watching. She did a brief glance around, there were definitely a few people with cameras looking at them.
They started making their way into the theater.
"Matthew," she whispered, "This play, it's not going to trigger anything, is it? Theater was Lavinia's thing, wasn't it? I don't want you to feel like you have to-"
He shook his head, "I picked this one for a reason. It's all hip-hop and rap. Plus, no one Lavinia knew is it. It'll be quite safe. And the reviews are amazing. I think it will be quite brilliant."
"Hip hop and rap in a musical?" Mary said, raising her eyebrows.
"And get this," Matthew said, rubbing his fingers over hers, "It's about the founding fathers."
"Oh," Mary said, looking down at the ticket as she passed it to the ticket taker, "That explains the title I guess. It sounds rather odd. You said, the reviews were good?"
"It's the hottest show to see right now. People are scrambling to find tickets," Matthew explained, "I think you'll like it."
They entered the theater and took their seats. Because of Matthew heading late from work, they walked in just as the lights were diming. The seats were fantastic and Mary was impressed that Matthew had snagged them. Then again, she wondered if her father had footed the bill. That was much more likely, especially if what Matthew had said was true and they were hard to find.
As the play began, Mary forgot about everything. She forgot to pay attention to whether or not they were still holding hands (they were). She forgot about her frustration over the fake dating arrangement. She forgot about how her uncomfortable confusion about her feelings for Matthew.
She was too caught up in the story of a foundling founding father. Everyone sang and rapped so well. Mary was the sort of person who normally didn't care for rap, but it seemed uncannily perfect here. Even the more minor characters were fleshed out in unique ways. She found herself caring about each character.
Through the intermission, she and Matthew raved non-stop to each other. She hardly wanted to take a break from the show and she was quite satisfied when the second act began. She sobbed through the second half, but she absolutely admitted that she was blown away.
"That was spectacular," Mary exclaimed, as she rose her feet after the show, clapping.
"It truly was," Matthew said, standing to clap beside her.
"Thank you for picking out this show," Mary said, looking up at him, letting a look of adoration form on her face, "You've excellent taste."
"Thank you," He said, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her forehead. "I'm glad you came with me, Mary."
Did he mean that? Or was it just for show?
Mary didn't want to like how his arm felt around, how it made a tingle go down her spine. She didn't want to think about how comforting his lips felt on her head.
Regardless of her confused feelings, her number one goal of tonight was to charm him. Her own emotions were unimportant.
"Come, darling, let's go outside. I've something for you," She said. It was noisy in here and she had things to do.
They joined hands and began to make their way from the auditorium to the lobby.
"Matthew Crawley?" Asked a voice, in a bit of a gasp.
Matthew turned to the voice first, but Mary let herself revolve with him. They were facing a short woman with dark curly hair.
"Ah Sarah Bunting," Matthew said, smiling at the woman, "How lovely it is to see you here."
"I must admit," Sarah said, her voice haughty, "I'm surprised to see you here."
"Are you?" Matthew said, "I know it has been a while since I've seen a show. Mary, this is Sarah Bunting, she's was a friend of Lavinia's and she's quite an activist. Sarah, have I introduced you to my girlfriend, Mary?"
Sarah rolled her eyes, "She's the reason for my surprise. I wouldn't have thought you'd have moved on from Lavinia so quickly."
Did people actually say thing like this in real life?
Mary watched Matthew cringe, "It's been a year, Sarah. I'm not saying that it's perfect." He turned to Mary and brushed his hand through her hair. It felt so good. "But Mary's helping me deal with it."
"She is?" Sarah asked, incredulously. "Mary Crawley? I couldn't believe it when I saw it online yesterday. That you actually were seeing her. I thought it might be a fluke or something. But this is real, isn't it?"
Mary gritted her teeth. She knew this could be it. This woman might provoke Matthew. It was going well so far. But this was Lavinia's friend and she was going right for his weak spots. She wouldn't blame him. Lavinia had been his fiancée. His loyalty for her reached deeper than it ever would for Mary and she knew it. What if Sarah's comments made him reveal the truth about their relationship? The whole thing could be ruined.
"Lavinia was the sweetest, nicest woman. And you are replacing her with Mary Crawley? Have you no self respect?" Sarah said, "Haven't you seen what she's done? What she did to poor Mabel Lane Fox? She's the reason that she and Tony are getting a divorce."
Mary felt her eyes prickle. Why did she have to bring up Tony? He was still an open wound. But Mary couldn't bring herself to change the subject, to interrupt. Instead, she squeezed Matthew's hand- hoping that it would give him strength to handle this situation.
Or maybe it was to tell him that he could throw it all away. There was no way Matthew would defend her to Lavinia's friend. It wasn't even right to ask that of him. Maybe she should just tell Sarah the truth of their relationship and save Matthew the shame. He'd probably still get the charity money if she was the one that ruined it.
"I adore Mary," Matthew said firmly, and Mary blinked up at him in absolute surprised, "We've only just gotten together and we are new. But for the first time in a year, I'm not thinking about the horrors that happened last year. Mary is making things better. So I'll excuse you to not comment on my girlfriend and her personal life. I'd think someone as intelligent and informed as you, Sarah, would know better than to take celebrity gossip websites seriously."
Sarah turned her nose up and fixed her bag, before saying tightly, "It was nice to see you, Matthew. I hope you enjoyed the show."
They watched Sarah walk way, before Matthew turned back to her.
"Are you okay?" Matthew asked, brushing a hand over her hair in a calming way again.
Mary's throat felt tight, but she nodded.
"Come," Matthew said, tugging gently on her hand, "Let's get out of here before TMZ shows up."
When the got out into the chilly evening air, Matthew moved his hand to her back. The cold air helped keep her from crying. She took a few breaths. She studied Matthew's face. It looked equally worn. That confrontation had taken a toll on them both.
She could see people outside the theater taking out their phones to snap pictures of them. She didn't want pictures of them like this- upset, frayed.
"Let's keep walking okay," She said, steering them down the street. "There is just so many cameras back there and I don't think either of us need that right now."
"Are you okay?" He asked her again, his thumb brushing the back of her hand.
"I just really hate people mentioning Tony," Mary muttered, still a little choked up, "And just people like that in general."
"Are you okay?" She asked him back.
He gulped, "This is just what I was afraid of going into this. That it would somehow discredit Lavinia's memory to take up with someone else for money."
They were at the corner now. They crossed the street to where a small green area was, taking a seat on a bench within it.
"Is that how you feel?" Mary asked, lightly.
"I did, at first," Matthew admitted.
Mary sniffled. Now that they were safe in the dark, cameras seemingly gone, she could let the tears fall. All the emotions were coming out. She had been so afraid it was all going to fall apart. She had been so hurt by Sarah. She should be used to this sort of thing by now, she really should, but it still stung.
"But," Matthew said, wrapping an arm around Mary, "I realized shortly into this endeavor that life hasn't been quite fair to you. That someone, even someone as rich as a Crawley, might deserve help too. I don't know what the real story is, Mary, of what happened in Bali, or that elevator in London, or whatever silly story that the papers have printed about you. But I know that you deserve more than what people are saying about you."
She tried not to think about how right it felt with him there, how familiar and easy his touch was. She let her headrest on his shoulder.
"Thank you for that," She whispered, "Truly."
They sat in silence for a few moments. Mary's sniffles giving way to comfortable silence.
"I can't tell you all of it now," She admitted, "Not yet. Maybe once we are closer."
"It's okay," Matthew reassured her, "I'm not asking you to."
"We're both a bit of mess, aren't we?" Mary asked, a tremor a laugh in voice.
"That we are," Matthew said.
It was all a mess. Mary didn't want to feel comforted here, sitting with Matthew. She wanted desperately to resent him. It would make it all easier. If she knew it was all fake, it wouldn't be difficult to breeze through the next few weeks.
But was this fake? Were his comforting words now made up? Was he standing up for her because he cared for her or because he was getting paid to?
Because if her feelings were real, that meant that she could get hurt. She'd been hurt time after time this year. She knew she wouldn't survive it again.
Did any of her feelings matter in the end? Of course they didn't, they never did. Like she had told him the day before, they were both in too deep. They had to see this through for both their sakes.
"I'm going to ask for the car," Mary murmured, taking her phone from her purse to text the driver.
She lifted her head from his shoulder, "Thank you for the tickets. The play was really brilliant. I'm sorry for the part at the end with Sarah, but that doesn't take away how truly amazing the show was. I'm glad we went."
"I am too," Matthew said, "I'm sure I'll be singing those songs for the next few weeks."
Mary smiled, sniffling away the last of her tears, "Me too. Speaking of, the next few weeks, that is- would you like to come visit me in Paris?"
Matthew cocked his head and smiled. Her father must have told him that was coming, so he was prepared for it.
"I would like that very much, Mary," He said, his voice sounded earnest.
"Good," She said, smiling, "Because I've already bought the tickets. I hope you don't mind. You fly out on Friday."
"That's awfully generous of you," He said.
"Think nothing of it," she said.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "On the contrary, I plan to think of you often this week."
She wanted it to be true. She wanted him to actually, truly think that. And she hated herself for that.
The car pulled up in front of them.
"That's our ride," She said.
Then in a blink of an eye they were creeping down New York streets, making their way back to their homes, their lives, their own worlds.
As always, thanks for reading! Reviews would be spectacular- I always love hearing your thoughts! :)