Chapter 2

Mary August 1916

Mary had been introduced to Sir Richard Carlisle by a mutual acquaintance at a party at Clifton. She'd made an effort to turn on her old charm, and it had worked. At the end of the night he'd asked if he could see her again and, automatically, she'd said she'd be delighted.

Sir Richard was rich and powerful and well on his way to a peerage. Whilst he was not 'old money' he did have money by the bucketful and he would give her a place in society. He was older that she would previously have considered but that war had meant for certain practicalities and, despite his age, they seemed to get on well enough.

Mary was frustrated that, despite Sir Richard's credentials, she was not very excited about the prospect of marrying him and, worse, that there was a tight ball of disappointment in her stomach that this had to be her future. The problem, of course, was Matthew.

She knew that she had missed her chance of marrying Matthew but he had shown what it could be like to marry for love. She had seen Sir Richard on a number of occasions since the party at Clifton and, whilst pleasant enough, she knew she didn't love him like she had loved Matthew. They didn't laugh together like she and Matthew did, and her eyes didn't automatically seek him out in a room. It was nice but it was not love. The pre-Matthew Mary would've laughed at the idea of worrying about such a thing, but Matthew had changed her. She had tasted true love and she couldn't forget it.

Matthew! Oh god, she had cried for weeks and weeks over their separation until she thought she would never recover and then, one day, she had done what she knew she needed to: she picked herself up and moved on. She resolved to only think of him unless she absolutely had to and, for the most part, she achieved her goal. Her parents and her sisters had avoided talking of him around her which suited her fine, and Isobel had become an infrequent visitor at the house since the war had started.

Tonight, though, as she contemplated marrying another she couldn't help but think of the man she knew she should've married when she had the chance. She knew she had to be careful. Despite how things must appear to others she couldn't be absolutely sure that she wasn't still in love with him, and dwelling too much on the past would only open the wounds again. What would Matthew think of her marrying Sir Richard? Would he care? She wondered what she would think if she heard that he was marrying someone else and such a wave of regret washed over her that she thought she might cry.

"Stop it" she exclaimed to herself.

It was futile to think of Matthew in that way. It was over. She had broken his heart and then, in turn, he had broken hers. It was time to face the future. She had to marry and if she couldn't marry for love, she might as well marry for money and position.

Decision made, Mary turned over and went to sleep.

Matthew August 1916

It had been a whirlwind fortnight's leave for Matthew. He could scarcely believe it. Having been relieved at the front he had travelled initially for a very brief visit to his mother's and then, as had become his pattern, had travelled down to stay with friends in London away from Downton.

Matthew had never really been one for parties, but war changed people. When every day at the front could be his last he had found that he wanted to feel alive when he was home. So he had gone to a friend's party, and had met a girl.

Lavinia was sweet and kind, but she was also witty and clever; they'd spent the whole evening talking of politics and books and music. He'd felt truly alive for the first time in two years and, at the end of the night, had asked whether he could see her the next day. They had met for tea the next day, and every day until he had to return to France.

Lavinia had promised to write to him and he had no doubt that she would. She was open and honest, and he knew from the way she looked at him that she was already very much in love with him. Her straightforwardness was refreshing, and it was so much easier going back to the front knowing he was loved in that way. The very opposite of how he had gone initially.

His mind flicked automatically to Mary who he hadn't seen for over two years. He had been so disciplined in his thinking that he now felt completely in control of his feelings. He had spoken to Lavinia of Mary as one might speak of a favourite sister, and that was how he hoped their relationship might one day end up. If he survived the war he wanted to be friends with Mary; to be brother and sister.

He had already decided that when he was next able to in England that he would ask Lavinia to marry him. There was no guarantee that he would make it through but if he did, he wanted a wife and children, and the war had taught him to seize the moment. It would not be the same as marrying Mary, but that didn't mean it had to be worse: just different. In fact, marrying Lavinia would allow him the simpler life that he often craved. Whilst they would, one day, be the Earl and Countess of Grantham, there would be many years before that when they would simply be Mr & Mrs Crawley; a title which suited Lavinia a great deal more than Mary.

It was decided then; next time he was in England he would ask Lavinia to marry him and then take her to Downton to meet Mary.