After several minutes of pacing up and down in one of the drawing rooms to calm herself down and rationalise the situation (she'd come to the conclusion that her sudden outburst of tongue-duelling was her way of putting Lawrence Winterbottom's daughter, whom she'd never liked, in her place), Mary smoothed her hands over her dress and left the room, with the intention of rejoining the party in the garden with her head held high.
As soon as she walked out of the room, she was met with the sight of Matthew practically hurling himself down the stairs. His eyes landed on her.
"Mary! There you are. I need to talk to you." He whispered hurriedly as he approached her.
Mary gulped. He clearly wanted an explanation as to why she'd essentially assaulted him in front of his father's colleagues. It was fine - she had an explanation, after all, and it was nothing to do with the fact that his dark blue, fitted polo shirt brought out the azure of his eyes and his toned torso nor the fact that he had wonderfully soft lips. Nothing to do with that at all. She steadied herself as he stood close to her.
Once he stood in front of her, however, she noticed a slightly frantic expression on his face. She frowned at him questioningly. "What is it?" She asked when he remained silent.
His mouth flapped open and closed a few times and he waved one of his arms vaguely in the direction of the staircase. She raised an eyebrow at him again to try to encourage him to tell her what the hell was wrong with him.
"Michael Cosgrove!" Matthew blurted out. Again, Mary had no clue what he was talking about. "Megan McDonald!" Matthew said again, his eyes darting around them as if looking to see who was nearby. The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs made him jump out of his skin. He spun round to see who it was. Upon seeing that it was one of the Workers' League, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Matthew, you're making no sense at all. Can you please try to form a coherent sentence?" Mary folded her arms calmly. She was rather glad of this distraction, as he didn't seem nearly so attractive when he was sputtering nonsense at her.
Taking a deep breath, Matthew closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he looked at her very intently. "I went upstairs to try to find a bathroom-"
"If you're having digestion issues then I'm not sure I want to hear the remainder of this story." Mary interrupted.
"Will you please just listen?" Matthew said impatiently. She may be an incredible kisser but she was also incredibly difficult. "I wasn't sure where it was so I opened a couple of the doors, and I ended up walking in on Michael Cosgrove." He paused. "With Megan McDonald."
Mary looked at him expectantly but he didn't elaborate. "OK..." She held her hands out as if to ask what the rest of the story was. "What's the big deal?" It made perfect sense for the two new cabinet ministers to be in conversation together.
Matthew rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed with exasperation. "Mary - they were together."
"Yes, I understand." Mary was getting annoyed now.
"I really don't think you do." Matthew said firmly. "Do you want me to spell it out for you?"
"I think you might have to because your explanation so far has been shite."
Matthew narrowed his eyes at her but appeased her nevertheless. He peered over his shoulder again to make sure they were out of earshot of anyone else. "Michael Cosgrove was sat on the bed, being...pleasured by Megan McDonald. Her head was in his lap and his trousers were around his ankles." He said quietly, trying not to relive the memory because he detested Michael enough as it was without having to replay that image of him in his mind.
Mary frowned. "What?"
"You heard me!" Matthew said, growing impatient again. "No wonder she got the job!"
The frown on Mary's face disappeared. Oh, this is all making sense now. "I see what you're trying to do." She said knowingly.
It was Matthew's turn to frown at her. "Huh?"
"You're still cut up about the fact that your precious Will Goodwin didn't get the post and now you're making up whatever ridiculous story you can think of to explain what happened! For God's sake, Matthew, I knew the Workers' League were desperate but I didn't think you'd be this pathetic." She spat at him. Who did he think he was, trying to spin tales about an affair? Granted, she herself was taking part in a fake romance, but that was different. Nobody's reputation was being tarnished in that lie. Matthew was trying to suggest corruption amid the highest ranks of the country's oldest political party, and that was a big, big allegation.
"Woah, woah, wait a second." Matthew held his hands up, looking thoroughly affronted by her statement. "I'm not making this up! I saw it with my own eyes. If you want, you can go upstairs and see it for yourself. They're probably still going at it." He challenged.
Mary surveyed him for a moment. He had seemed genuinely perturbed when she saw him descend the stairs, and he now seemed genuinely annoyed that she didn't believe him. Still, she didn't know him nearly well enough to take his word on such an important matter. Moreover, from what she'd seen of Megan McDonald, she was as timid as a mouse. There was no way she'd have seduced a married man who was over twenty years her senior and cajoled him into giving her a high-flying job in the cabinet, at the risk of him losing his job and his family. "Fine." She relented, walking towards the large staircase. She sensed him on her heels.
Once they reached the top of the stairs, he quietly led her to the small corridor where he'd walked in on them. He cleared his throat quietly and pointed his head towards the door to the bedroom. Mary walked over to it, and his eyes automatically lowered to her derriere - he'd spent the thirty seconds or so that it took for them to climb the staircase trying not to gaze at her perfect bottom sashaying right in front of his eyes, and now he couldn't help but think of anything else. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sound of someone else ascending the stairs. Mary turned to see what it was and, before he could think rationally, he grabbed her by the arms, pinned her to the wall and kissed her hard.
His hands kneaded the flesh of her waist through the thin fabric of her dress as he angled his head. The feelings that she had sparked in him from their earlier kiss in the garden quickly reignited, and he unknowingly got a little carried away. To his surprise, she didn't object when he sought entry to her mouth with his tongue, and he felt her fingers slide over his jaw and up into his hair. Their mouths moving over each other, he grew more bold. One of his hands smoothed over her hip before moving lower, until he reached the curve of her bottom. Deepening the kiss even further, he splayed his fingers and squeezed, the soft flesh feeling wonderful under his large hand. Before he knew what was happening, though, he was flying backwards.
"Wha-" He stammered, before remembering where he was and shutting himself up with a worried glance towards the bedroom door. He didn't want them to be overheard. Looking back in front of him, he saw a very irate Mary.
"What the fuck was that?" She mouthed.
Matthew gestured towards the staircase, as if to say that he was trying to cover themselves in case someone came up and asked them what they were doing in a remote part of the house. That was why he'd kissed her, right? Yes, of course - a quick-thinking part of his brain must have assessed all the options available to him and concluded that kissing Mary was the most sensible one.
"That was completely unnecessary." Mary mouthed again, using hand gestures to provide the emphasis that her voice couldn't.
"It took you an awfully long time to protest." Matthew hissed back, rubbing his shoulder as he now realised that Mary had forcefully shoved him off her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Mary whispered sarcastically, "I was too stunned by you throwing me against a wall and then groping me to act sooner." She hoped her anger was convincing enough. In truth, while she was relatively outraged that this man whom she'd only known for a week had the audacity to feel her up in a deserted corridor, the kiss and the movement of his hands had been quite enticing, and she was feeling tingles in places on her body that her mother taught her never to speak of.
Matthew was trying his hardest not to let his ears turn pink, but to no avail. He was fairly sure that they were a deep shade of crimson. One thing that made him feel marginally better about having just fondled Mary's buttock, though, was that she had also let herself get carried away not twenty minutes earlier - and she had done it in a much more public setting. Before Matthew was able to make this point, the creak of a bedroom door opening rendered him motionless. He and Mary turned to see a flustered Michael Cosgrove peeking around the door.
"Oh!" Michael blurted out, clearly shocked to see two people stood in the corridor only two metres from the bedroom. "Hello there!" He attempted to appear as his normal, jovial self. "What brings you two here?"
There was a layer of sweat over his forehead, Mary noted. It was intensifying as he spoke, as if he was nervous, but it had definitely been there as he'd opened the door. "We were just trying to find a little privacy." She smiled casually, wrapping her arm around Matthew's waist and leaning into him. She felt Matthew nod as his hand moved to rest on the small of her back. Michael was clearly flustered enough to forget that they weren't actually a couple, Matthew thought.
"Oh, how nice." Michael was now dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief, a strained smile on his face. He was also curiously stood in the gap of the doorway, blocking their view of whatever was inside the room. Or whoever else, Mary thought. Perhaps Matthew was onto something...
"I hope we didn't disturb you?" Matthew asked with faux-concern.
"What? Oh no, no." Michael stammered. Mary had never seen him like this before - he was one of the smoothest, most collected politicians she'd witnessed. "I was just, erm, having a little rest from the heat outside. I, too, wanted some privacy so found this bedroom to have a lie down in." He grinned widely.
"Right." Matthew deadpanned.
Just then, a small sneeze sounded from inside the bedroom. It was a woman's sneeze. Michael's eyes widened in alarm.
Mary started to take pity on him. For all his faults, he had been kind to her as she'd grown up and was one of few people to speak to her like an adult. Besides, it was an incredibly uncomfortable situation to be in and she didn't want to be the one to confront him about any possible affair or nepotism that he was involved in. "Are you watching TV?" She offered innocently. Instantly, she felt Matthew glare at her.
Michael, on the other hand, could not have looked more relieved. "Yes, I am!" He replied far too enthusiastically.
"Odd that we can't hear the rest of the show." Matthew replied pointedly, to which Mary pinched him hard on his back, where her arm was still resting.
"Anyway, we'll leave you to rest. See you later." Mary smiled. She turned and grabbed the hand of a gobsmacked Matthew, pulling him along behind her as quickly as she could before he said anything else.
"I'm sorry, but what!?" Matthew exclaimed, dragging her into another bedroom and shutting the door.
"What did you think was going to happen? We were going to burst into the bedroom, catch them in the throes and then publicly shame them?" Mary asked. "Do you have any idea how awkward that would have been?"
Matthew stared at her incredulously. "Wait - so we've just let the Home Secretary get away with forcing his clandestine lover into a cabinet position, at the expense of people who are actually qualified to help run the country, because you would have felt a bit 'awkward' to expose him?" This was unbelievable. He'd had a feeling that Mary would have a slightly warped view of the world, given her background and upbringing, but he had no idea that her priorities would be this twisted. "I don't even know why I'm surprised. Of course you'd remain loyal to the aristocracy, no matter what they'd done." He muttered bitterly. "That's the whole mantra of the National Party, isn't it?"
Mary inhaled deeply to stop herself from punching this man in the face. "Will you please stop with your anti-establishment bullshit?" She bit at him. She'd heard enough digs at her background and she couldn't tolerate anymore.
"Look, the point is, we need to tell people about this." Matthew said, rolling up his sleeves as if preparing for the announcement.
Mary raised an eyebrow at him. This poor boy was so naive. "That's not going to happen." She shook her head.
"Pardon me?"
"Matthew, are you telling me that you think it's a good idea to sound the death-knell for this Coalition when it's in its infancy? Only one week in? People are only just beginning to give it a chance! We can't ruin all of that. I think you're forgetting that our sole purpose here is to bring the two parties together. We'd be doing the complete opposite if we told anyone about this. We aren't whistleblowers - that's not our duty."
"So if I see someone break into my neighbours' house I should keep it to myself because 'technically' I'm not a member of Neighbourhood Watch and I don't want to upset my neighbour? That's bullshit." Matthew said angrily.
"This is different and you know it." Mary replied equally ferociously. "How would you feel if your father had worked his whole life to get to this position, and once he finally got there you revealed something about one of his closest confidantes that tore all his hard work apart? Would you be happy you told everyone about it?"
"My father did work his whole life to get here, actually." Matthew countered. It was beginning to become rather tiresome how Mary kept treating his father and the Workers' League as if they were a subordinate party.
"Well then you know how it feels." Mary replied. "Do you really want to damage this government before it's even begun? Make our fathers a laughing-stock?"
The two fell silent, staring at each other in a battle of wills. Infuriatingly, Matthew was beginning to see her point. He still thought she was spoilt, and that she was ultimately doing this to defend a member of her social circle, rather than to preserve the dignity of the government, but he didn't want to be even partly responsible for tarnishing what his father had worked tirelessly to achieve.
"Fine." He relented quietly. "But I think we should at least tell our fathers. Then they can decide what to do about it."
Mary sighed. It would break Robert's heart if he found out that his close friend had betrayed his trust. Besides, she couldn't trust Reginald Crawley, as decent as he seemed, not to use this to his political advantage and break away from the Coalition. "I think we need to get proof first."
Matthew was close to pulling his hair out. "How much more proof do you need?!" He cried out. "I saw it with my own eyes! I saw her - you know, with her face in his lap. Her head was...bobbing all over the place and he wasn't wearing trousers! And then when he opened the door he was covered in sweat and she was still there - you heard!"
"Yes, I know that's what you saw, but I think we should investigate a little more. It might not have been her."
"You're joking, right?" Matthew was dumbfounded by her continued defence of this man.
"I'm not actually, no." Mary replied curtly. She'd thought it would be relatively straightforward to persuade Matthew to follow her view - young men like him were usually surprised enough that she had her own opinion to just go along with it without question. Matthew, however, was proving to be as strong-willed and obstinate as she was. "You didn't see her face, did you?" Matthew sighed and reluctantly shook his head. "So it could have been someone else. It obviously wasn't his wife, but it's not illegal for him to cheat on his wife and that's nobody else's business. We need to be sure that it was Megan before we say or do anything. Even if it is Megan, it may be that the affair is unconnected to her appointment. After all, Michael Cosgrove isn't the only one who gets to decide who gets appointed." Mary reasoned. "I'm just saying I think this is too significant for us to make presumptions and act hastily."
With a sigh of frustration, Matthew eventually conceded. As an accountant, he was all about facts and precision, so he couldn't really argue with her. "Alright, but we need to act quickly. I don't feel right letting this continue for weeks or months on end."
Mary nodded. "OK." Again, the two fell silent. "Can we go now? Or did you bring me in here to grope me again?" Mary said, pleased to see the colour rise in Matthew's face.
"Sorry, I forgot - you prefer to make a more public display of affection, don't you?" He recovered quickly, equally content to see Mary's smirk fall from her face as she stalked out of the room.
...
"...And this is my youngest sister, Sybil." Mary introduced her favourite sibling to Matthew, Reginald and Isobel.
The middle-class Crawleys were visiting 10 Downing Street for dinner. It was a couple of days after the garden party and Robert had decided it would be nice to have the two leaders of government dine together with their respective families. More importantly, he wanted to meet the young man with whom Mary was in a pseudo-relationship.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Matthew." Robert had said as Matthew had arrived with his parents. "It's odd to instruct my daughter to kiss a man who I've not even met." He'd laughed.
For Matthew, it was yet another strange experience in a string of strange experiences. Robert had a point, in that Matthew was a man who was kissing and being affectionate with his daughter, and so naturally Robert would want to meet and get to know him somewhat. Matthew therefore found himself slightly nervous to meet Mary's parents. Yet, it didn't actually matter what they thought of him, because he and Mary weren't in a real relationship. On the whole, though, Matthew did still seek Robert and Cora's approval. It was just in his nature to want to get along with people, he supposed. In any case, Robert Crawley was the Prime Minister, and it would always be nice to have him on your side.
"You're a very lucky man, Robert, to have three such lovely daughters." Reginald smiled genially. Edith seemed particularly pleased with this comment, given that she was often overlooked when praise was bestowed on Mary and Sybil.
Mary liked Reginald. He had Matthew's easy charm, but seemed more laid-back and unflappable. He was also surprisingly refined for a middle-class son of a post-war manufacturer. It's a shame Matthew hadn't inherited his taste in fine tailored clothing, Mary thought, observing Matthew's creased chinos. Isobel, on the other hand, was more of a scrutiniser, her eyes constantly roaming around the room and appraising the people in it. Mary sensed that she and her own mother wouldn't be the best of friends.
"They're much more of a handful than they look, Reginald, trust me." Robert chuckled as they all took a seat in the dining room.
The conversation quickly split up into several smaller discussions. Isobel began asking Sybil how she was finding university, and the pair swiftly fell into a debate about what can be done to improve the education system for women, with Cora looking on in concern - she wasn't in favour of encouraging her youngest daughter's progressive ways. Reginald thanked Mary for agreeing to go along with Operation Brangelina, adding that he found the whole concept rather preposterous and hoped that it hadn't interfered with her life too much. He then enquired with a genuine interest as to how she'd been spending her time, and she happily answered as she never got the opportunity to discuss her interests, with occasional interjections from Robert, who was sat with them.
This left Matthew to speak to Edith, who he surmised was the quietest and least confident of the three sisters. She seemed nice enough once they started talking - much less antagonistic and superficial than Mary.
"I feel for you, having to be in Mary's company so much when you did nothing to deserve it." Edith remarked. Matthew chuckled at this because he presumed it was meant light-heartedly, although he couldn't be sure because Edith wasn't smiling as she said it.
"It's not all bad." He said off-handedly. His mind immediately recalled the feeling of Mary's body between him and the wall, her tongue caressing his, and he took a sip of his wine. "It's mainly odd seeing pictures of ourselves splashed across newspapers and the internet, for the world to see. I worry that one of her ex-boyfriends will find me and beat me to a pulp." He joked.
Edith shook her head dismissively. "Mary's never really had a boyfriend, so you don't need to worry about that."
Matthew looked up sharply. "Really?" He would have been willing to bet his own mother that Mary was one of those girls who flitted from boyfriend to boyfriend. She certainly had the looks, the free time and the social connections for that kind of lifestyle.
"Yep." Edith nodded. "Everyone presumes she must have dated loads of guys, but she hardly has at all. Men tend to look at her from afar, perhaps flirt with her a little, but it never goes much further."
"Why? Are they intimidated by her?" Matthew asked. He was being very nosey, and if Isobel had overheard the conversation she would have chastised him for being so rude, but he couldn't help but delve deeper. Edith seemed fairly open about her sister's love life, anyway.
"Some of them, yes. But a lot of the time it's because she doesn't let them get too close. She can be very stand-offish so a lot of them get put off by that and don't even bother trying to ask her out." Edith explained.
Matthew could completely see that. Being stand-offish seemed to be Mary's favourite past-time.
"A lot of guys presume she's an easy target, but the truth is she's hardly been intimate with anyone." Edith continued unprompted.
"Er, right." Matthew said, beginning to feel that this conversation had gone too far. Edith seemed to enjoy disparaging Mary, but it didn't seem fair to Mary to keep talking about such intimate details of her life. Still, this insight was very interesting to Matthew. Who'd have thought that, of the two of them, it would be Matthew who was the more sexually experienced one?
Smug with that knowledge, Matthew turned back to his meal.
...
A couple of days later, and Matthew and Mary were back in Mary's old house for a meeting with the PR teams. Tonight was another important event, on a similar scale to the fundraiser.
"Right, now then," Nigel clapped his hands together as he took his seat. "Matthew and Mary are both here, Eric is here, Jacob is here, Nicholas is here to take notes," He nodded towards his sixteen-year-old son who was assisting him as part of his work experience over the summer holidays, "So I believe we are now quorate and the meeting can begin."
Matthew raised his eyebrows at the formality. When he'd been asked to attend the meeting, he'd presumed it would just be a quick chat over some tea and biscuits. Across the mahogany table, Mary rolled her eyes at Nigel's bureaucratic nature, twirling her hair around her finger with a look of utter boredom on her face. Matthew smirked at her.
"Well, I think we can all agree that press coverage has largely been positive." Nigel continued. "The Daily Express went so far as to call you the 'hope of the nation'!"
"Yes, that was quite an overstatement but a welcome one nonetheless." Jacob remarked. "Our main contenders are The Guardian and the Independent, who continually suggest that the relationship is a ploy. Certain bloggers on the internet are beginning to pick up on it, too, so I think we need to ramp up the public appearances a bit."
"That's exactly what we're doing tonight, Jacob." Eric said patronisingly. "The Prince's Trust annual dinner is one of the largest social events in the political calendar. A few celebrities will be attending, too."
"I know that." Jacob said stubbornly. "But I think we need to make more low-key appearances too. Look at the celebrity couples nowadays - most pictures of them are when they're walking down the street or canoodling at a tennis match. If Matthew and Mary are hardly seen outside widely-publicised events then it'll seem suspicious."
Nigel nodded his head in understanding. "Quite right, Jacob, quite right. Nicholas, make sure you write down 'tennis match'." Nicholas, slumped in his chair and looking about as interested in this meeting as Mary was, scrawled something down on his notepad. Nigel turned to Matthew and Mary. "I can get you good seats at Wimbledon."
"Great, thanks..." Matthew said, although he wasn't sure how thankful he was for such a bizarre gift. Mary merely gave Nigel a sarcastic thumbs-up, prompting Matthew to chuckle quietly. Her attitude was a lot more entertaining when it wasn't directed at him.
"So after tonight we'll devise some other sightings for you two." Nigel continued. "It will mean having to spend more of your evenings and weekends together, though."
Matthew and Mary each shrugged nonchalantly, hoping that the other couldn't sense their small but unwanted frisson of excitement.
"So...anything else?" Nigel asked, looking around the table. He was clearly realising that there was no need for such a formal meeting and was trying to find more topics of discussion to justify it. "Anything from you two?" He asked Matthew and Mary. "You're doing a great job, by the way. You do seem much more comfortable with each other, which is good. That, erm, kiss at the garden party was a little daring but effective-"
"OK, I think that's enough for today." Mary interrupted, and Matthew was amused to see her blushing. "Can we please go now?"
"Yes, yes, very well." Nigel replied. He seemed glad to be relieved of having to talk about their kiss. "Nicholas, have those notes typed up for me."
"You want me to type up this?" Nicholas held up his notepad, which had the words 'Daily Express', 'tennis match' and 'kiss' written on it.
"Forget it." Nigel sighed wearily, collecting his things and quickly shaking hands with everyone before leaving with Eric, Jacob on their heels.
"Well that certainly wasn't a waste of time." Matthew said drily as he stood up. "I need to explain to my boss why I'm late for work."
"Just tell him you're dating the Prime Minister's daughter and if he has a problem with that then he can take it up with the Prime Minister himself." Mary retorted.
"If I was dating you then I'd definitely tell everyone about it." Nicholas interjected, summoning what he obviously considered to be his most alluring gaze. Matthew shot him a glare. Nicholas was one of those teenage boys who believed they were blessed with a God-given gift to womanise. "I wish I could come to the dinner tonight." Nicholas added.
"Sorry, only people who've done their GCSEs are invited." Matthew said, causing Mary to laugh.
...
After an hour or so of mingling with representatives from the whole political spectrum, with a few television personalities and athletes thrown in for good measure, Matthew and Mary finally took their seats at the dinner table in the hall of the grand hotel.
"It's exhausting, isn't it, all this small talk?" Matthew sighed. "I have a new-found respect for people who do this for a living."
"Why, thank you." Mary replied, hinting at her life of attending functions and networking, and she and Matthew shared a smile. Soon, they were joined by the other diners at their table, an assortment of politicians and one Manchester United footballer with his wife.
Matthew, being an ardent supporter from his days growing up in Manchester, quickly fell into conversation with him. Unusually, the footballer himself was also originally from Manchester, so the two swapped stories of the schools they went to and where they would go out.
"You really did that?" Mary asked with surprise as Matthew relayed an anecdote about him and his friend trying to sneak into a local nightclub when they were seventeen.
"Yeah." Matthew said defensively. "Only because there was an eighteen year old girl in there that I fancied." He added with a mischievous smirk that made Mary's stomach flutter.
"Lucky girl." Mary said enigmatically, such that Matthew couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.
"Do you two not go clubbing much now, then?" The footballer asked, and Matthew and Mary suddenly remembered that they need to act as if they know each other well.
"No, not really...we tend to, er, stay in most nights." Matthew replied as smoothly as possible.
"I know what you mean, mate." The footballer winked at Matthew, obviously inferring from Matthew's reply that he and Mary preferred to romp around in the house. Matthew swallowed hard at the notion.
As dinner progressed, people began to rise from their seats and mingle again. This made it much more difficult for Mary to peruse the room to find Michael Cosgrove and/or Megan McDonald - she and Matthew had agreed they'd try to do some digging tonight. She turned her head to ask Matthew whether they should wander around the room to find them, only to feel Matthew's arm wrap around her shoulders. He gently tilted her chin up with his index finger and thumb, and dipped his head to kiss her. The kiss was very different to the ones they'd shared so far - it was sweet, and so painfully slow that Mary's toes curled in her shoes.
He pulled away, and it took Mary a moment or two to regain her faculties.
"I saw a photographer coming this way so I thought this would be a good opportunity." Matthew whispered, rubbing his nose affectionately against hers, giving onlookers all the pretence of a romantic moment between them. "I can't tell if he's passed by yet, though."
"Maybe we should stay like this for a little while. To be sure, I mean." Mary whispered back, feeling light-headed. Matthew merely hummed lowly, the sound reverberating through Mary, and he kissed her again, his fingers playing over her neck and sending shivers down her spine.
"I think that should do it." He murmured, breaking the kiss after a few moments.
Mary realised that she had bunched the tablecloth into her fist, knocking over her wine glass in the process.
...
"Quick, this way!" Mary whispered behind her as she turned right at the juncture.
A couple of hours had passed since dinner; now, most guests were in the ballroom dancing to the live band, making it very easy for Matthew to spot Michael Cosgrove leave the room with Megan McDonald. Annoyingly for Matthew, who wanted indisputable proof of their affair as soon as possible, another woman also left the room with them. Nevertheless, he tugged Mary's hand and the two swiftly exited the room, intent on following the trio as they navigated their path through the hotel.
"Careful," Matthew grabbed Mary's arm to halt her movements when he thought they were getting too close. If Cosgrove suspected they were onto him, he'd ramp up the secrecy and they would never be able to get any proof. Once he was satisfied that the group had all entered the same room, he and Mary crept up towards it. Thankfully, the woman whom they didn't recognise had left the door slightly ajar, which Matthew hoped would enable them to hear the conversation better.
What wasn't so fortunate was that the few glasses of wine that he and Mary had each had rendered their movements less gentle as they could have been, and Mary stumbled slightly on a creaky floorboard. Almost immediately, the door to the study swung open.
Acting quickly, Mary slid her arms around Matthew, underneath his suit jacket, and started kissing his jaw just as the woman stepped outside to investigate the noise. "Oh, hello." She said to the woman, appearing to be taken by surprise. She swayed on her feet as if more tipsy than she actually was.
"Are you lost?" The woman asked sternly.
"No, no. My boyfriend and I were just leaving this room that we found open," Mary nodded her head towards the room directly behind them. "But don't tell anyone!" She giggled.
Playing along, Matthew laughed too. "I better get her home." He said to the woman, stroking Mary's back fondly. Her body was pressed right up against his and she was placing 'drunken', sloppy kisses along his jaw. "Come on, darling." He turned around and they both walked away, turned the corner and then stopped. They waited silently until they could hear the faint sound of the door closing.
"Come on." Mary didn't want to waste any time in eavesdropping. Matthew followed behind her. It was going to be more difficult now that the door was shut, frustratingly.
Tip-toeing closer to the door, Mary looked behind to see what was taking Matthew so long. He eyed her anxiously from a few paces away. "What if she comes back out?" He mouthed.
"We're drunk, remember?" Mary mouthed back. Honestly, did he think she hadn't thought it through? Matthew seemed relatively impressed, and edged nearer. Mary stood next to the wall of the room that the trio had gone into, but the sounds emanating through it were muffled. Tutting lightly to herself, she angled her head so that her ear was pressed against it. Her eyes lit up and she nodded to Matthew to indicate that she could hear what was being said.
Matthew quickly moved to do the same. He could hear the woman's voice - she was saying something about "emissions" and "regulations". It sounded like they were just discussing new environmental legislation, or something to do with the Environment Secretary, Matthew thought disappointedly. However, then the woman said something curious - she started talking about her niece. At least, that's what it sounded like.
Matthew turned his head to see if Mary was as confused as he was, when one of the other room doors opened. Neither of them had bargained for this to happen, but it made sense given that they were in a famous hotel in Central London that was likely to always be fully-booked.
Now accustomed to being caught lurking outside rooms, Matthew and Mary quickly joined at the lips again. The hotel guests seemed to be a young family all staying in one room, and the parents took a while to cajole their toddler into leaving the room. This gave Matthew and Mary the opportunity to deepen their kiss - not that they needed to, of course, but it seemed to happen automatically, most likely because of the small amount of Dutch courage flowing through their veins.
Matthew pressed himself closer to Mary. She looked amazing that night, wearing a fitted dress that clung to her shapely figure, which he was now enjoying exploring with his hands. She didn't seem to object - in fact, she had his hair between her fingers and was holding his head closer to further deepen the kiss, while her other hand roamed over his shoulder and chest. This was all making it near-impossible for Matthew to concentrate on the matter at hand, but he managed to keep an ear open to hear what was going on around them. At least if the mysterious woman came out of the room again, they would seem drunk enough that she wouldn't suspect them of being up to anything. With that in mind, Matthew's slightly drugged brain reasoned that they would seem more convincingly drunk if they were more inappropriate. He slid his hand lower down Mary's body until it reached her bottom. There was no shove at his shoulder this time - instead, surprisingly, Mary moaned quietly into his mouth, and he thought he felt her press her chest against his more fully. Spurred on by this, despite being somewhat confused by her acquiescence, he continued to caress here there. Needing to break away for breath, he moved his lips to her neck. Her skin was like silk, and he could smell her fragrance as he tasted her. God, he could definitely keep doing this for a long, long time. She seemed to be enjoying herself too, from what he could gather. Obviously, she couldn't hit him while there were on-lookers, but he figured she would have pinched him or indicated her disapproval in some other way if she'd wanted him to stop.
He heard the couple walk past them, let out a small gasp - either at recognition of who Matthew and Mary were, or at the fact that they were being rather lewd in front of a toddler, or both - and walk away. Without stopping what he was doing in case he was mistaken, he mumbled against Mary's neck, "Mary, are they gone?"
Mary merely hummed softly in return, and Matthew could have sworn she tilted her head to give him better access. He kissed his way up to her ear. "Mary," He whispered directly into it.
"Hmm?" She jumped into action, her eyes springing open.
"Are they gone?" He asked, smiling inwardly. She had been enjoying it.
"Oh, erm," Mary cleared her throat and removed her hands from where they were buried in Matthew's hair, "yeah, they are." She averted her gaze, instead glancing in the middle distance or at the chandelier hanging in the corridor. She had definitely enjoyed that kiss far too much, and was trying to tame the effects it had had on her body. It was baffling to think that this utterly normal, middle-class accountant could make her feel so randy within seconds of kissing her.
Matthew removed his hands from her body, regretting the loss of contact. They were on a mission, however, and they needed to focus. He moved back to press his ear against the wall, trying to piece fragments of the conversation together. He saw Mary do likewise, although her cheeks were still flushed and her lips pinker than usual.
"That's true," Michael Cosgrove's voice said, "although we'd face a lot of obstacles from the House of Commons."
"You've dealt with difficult MPs before, haven't you?" The woman said. "With Megan here, you should have no problem. She can be very persuasive, as I'm sure you know." There was a wry undertone to that last sentence that didn't escape Matthew's notice. There was definitely a double-meaning there.
"Yes, yes," Michael chuckled nervously, "...anyway, I fear my absence will be noticed if I stay here too much longer." The scraping of a chair suggested that he was standing up to leave. Matthew and Mary looked at each other and carefully made their way back towards the ballroom before they were caught again.
A/N: yes, another update! To all the kind people who have asked about Incentive and Above All Things, I am intending on updating those too, and am part-way through the next chapter for Above All Things, but I just need to wait for inspiration to hit. In the meantime, I'm having so much fun writing this fic and I've managed to find the time to do so this week so I thought I might as well crack on! Please let me know your thoughts, I love hearing from you :) xxx