Two Jaegerbombs and a double vodka and lemonade later, and Megan McDonald was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol that Lady Mary Crawley and Matthew Crawley had so kindly bought her.

"Thanks so much for spending time with me!" She beamed at them. "Nobody's really taken the time to speak to me ever since my appointment was announced. I seem to have angered a lot of people by being appointed - even people in my own party."

Mary nodded encouragingly. It had taken them a while to cajole her into joining them for drinks, and then a while longer to persuade her that they should get her another drink. But the wait was worth it. This was exactly the path she'd wanted the conversation to go down. "I'd noticed." She said with faux-sympathy. "I suppose a lot of people expected one of the veteran politicians to get the post. Just how did you manage to secure the position at such a young age?" She asked interestedly. Matthew didn't miss the shrewd glint in her eye.

"Ah, Mary!" The nasal tones of a young man in an outfit that inexplicably involved a gilet interrupted the conversation.

"Edmund, hello." Mary smiled as politely as she could while concealing her utter annoyance. She could have been on the brink of a revelation. "Matthew, Megan, this is Edmund - his father and my father are old family friends." She explained after accepting Edmund's friendly kiss on the cheek.

"Pleased to meet you both." Edmund said. "Mary, won't you come and say hello to Luciana and Frederich - they haven't seen you in years!"

Mary had little choice but to spend time with Edmund and his siblings - their father was a prominent backbencher in the National Party, and she had to do what she could to keep the family in her family's good graces. She let Edmund lead the way but paused to murmur to Matthew. "Keep going - I reckon another shot of vodka should do it."

"OK, but I might order some food too, so it doesn't look like I'm just plying her with drinks." Matthew whispered back, keeping an eye on Megan who was checking her phone.

"No - no food!" Mary commanded. "We don't want anything to soak up the alcohol! She needs to be drunk as soon as possible."

Matthew stared at her. "You're terrifying, you know that?"

Mary rolled her eyes and walked away to catch up with Edmund.

...

It was a full fifty minutes before Mary was able to extricate herself from the conversation. It had been a while since she'd seen Edmund's brother and sister and they were keen to catch up and find out the gossip about her relationship with Matthew. The topic had attracted the attention of several other guests, and Mary quickly found herself chairing an impromptu conference on the matter.

Thankfully, she was able to use her lovey-dovey relationship as an excuse to leave, claiming that she wanted to go and find Matthew.

"Mary! My girlfriend!" Matthew called out to her loudly from where he was sat at a table with several other guests. "Come and join us."

Knowing that she would need to speak to Matthew discreetly, and taking advantage of the fact that there weren't any seats left around the table, Mary perched herself on Matthew's thigh.

"Hello," She smiled sweetly at him and dropped a small kiss on his lips. He kissed her back sloppily. "Are you alright?" She asked, noticing the slightly dopey smile on his face.

"Perfectly fine!" Matthew replied cheerily. He tried to kiss her again but missed his target by an inch or so, resulting in him licking the side of her mouth.

"How much have you had to drink?" Mary whispered, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Perhaps he'd had to buy Megan (and therefore himself) several more drinks before she would be open enough to talk about how she got the job?

"I only had another Vodka shot after you left." He replied, pulling her body closer to him so that she was sat higher up on his thigh. He began placing kisses along her jaw.

"You're drunk on two Jaegerbombs and three shots of Vodka, including mixers? Over the space of two hours?" Mary asked quietly. She didn't drink heavily herself but it struck her as a little bit lightweight for a man of his stature.

"Mmm..." Was Matthew's only reply as he continued his slightly clumsy affections.

"Did you get any information?" Mary whispered, eager to find out.

Matthew drew back briefly, a concentrated frown on his face. "Something about her aunt...and, er, lobbying, or something..." He mumbled, his head dropping back to her neck.

It wasn't particularly helpful feedback, but it was something. Before Mary could work out what exactly it might mean, however, she was distracted.

"Matthew, darling," Mary bit out, trying not to seem outwardly irritated, "you're being a little bit…handsy." She placed her strong grip around Matthew's right hand, which was currently roaming up her bare leg and threatening to slide underneath the hem of her dress.

"You're just so pretty," Matthew said as he nuzzled her neck. "Gorgeous."

Mary felt herself flush at his attentions. She cast a demure smile at all the women around the table who were sighing with jealousy, hearing one angrily ask her boyfriend why he was never that romantic with her.

"You're so lucky, Lady Mary." One woman said. "He seems so besotted with you. I couldn't get my boyfriend's attention if I taped his Xbox controls to my naked body and poured champagne over myself." She scoffed. "I never believed that Matthew cheated on you, in spite of what the tabloids said."

Mary tensed. Nobody had mentioned the alleged affair this evening, even to dismiss it.

"Good!" Matthew interjected. "Because I didn't cheat on her. I couldn't cheat on her."

The women around the table mistook his firm tone as a declaration of the strength of his love, rather than an admission that they weren't actually going out, and sighed again wistfully. Worried that Matthew's tipsy state might lead him to blurt out more thoughts that should probably be internalised, Mary quickly rose from his lap and held his hand. "Come on, Matthew. Let's step outside for a second - it's getting far too warm in here." She bluffed, seeking any excuse to get Matthew alone somewhere so that he could sober up a little.

She found a small, dimly-lit nook where there were a few tables and sofas with nobody seated at them - she supposed they were intended for later in the evening when people were tired and wanted to go somewhere quiet. Tugging Matthew's hand, she encouraged him to sit down on one of the sofas.

"You need to sober up." Mary said firmly, sitting down beside him. She'd fetched a glass of water on their way over and she now set it down in front of him.

"I'm only a little bit tipsy." Matthew said defensively, glugging the water down nevertheless. He put the glass back down and smiled at her. He shuffled a little closer and leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek, lingering there and beginning to trail kisses towards her lips.

"Matthew," Mary pushed at his shoulder, annoyed with his behaviour. "No wonder you ended up bedding a random woman if this is how you get after a few drinks." She muttered. If he thought he could treat her like another conquest, then he had another thing coming.

Matthew moved away, frowning as he looked at her. "For your information, I was thinking of you for a lot of it." He blurted out.

Mary stilled. "What?" She asked, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Matthew merely grabbed the glass of water again and started taking swigs from it.

"God, I need to pee." He said suddenly, standing up and wandering away, leaving a startled Mary in his wake.

'I was thinking of you for a lot of it?' What the hell did that mean?! She supposed he could have meant that he'd thought of her while he was drinking...but that didn't quite make sense, particularly in the context of her comment.

Mary stood up and made her way back to the main event, for some reason with a slight spring in her step as she did so.

...

A couple of days later, Matthew and Mary were going for a stroll around some of the residential streets in Chelsea, after having stopped at a restaurant for a spot of lunch. A small gaggle of paparazzi soon accumulated - it was the first time that paparazzi had been able to get close to them since Matthew's scandal erupted, as all photographs at the Claridge's event had been taken from a distance within a very controlled environment. This, however, was public property and the men behind the cameras could be as invasive as they wished.

"Stay close." Matthew murmured to Mary, a frown settling over his features as the men edged ever closer to them, practically surrounding them on the pavement. He'd heard stories of paparazzi deliberately doing things to provoke their targets and he didn't want Mary to be subjected to anything untoward.

"How did you feel about the picture, Lady Mary?" One man called to her, alluding to the picture of Matthew and Alice that had been splashed across dozens of newspapers and websites. "Do you really believe he got nothing more than a massage from such a buxom blonde?"

"Ignore them." Mary muttered, sensing Matthew's body tense next to her. She kept her focus on trying to keep moving forward in spite of the people around them. Her old house was a five-minute walk away, but she didn't want them to know that it was still in use. The only option to rid themselves of these pests was to hail a cab and drive off somewhere.

"Do you trust him, Lady Mary?" Another asked. "Do you have trust issues generally?"

Mary felt Matthew's hand rest protectively on the small of her back. Peering over at him discreetly, she saw his jaw set and his eyes piercing in a hard stare at the photographer who had just spoken. He appeared to be losing his cool, she noticed worriedly.

"She must do," Another one piped up, shoving his camera directly in their faces, "from what we've heard, she's either been sleeping around with every rich bloke in England or sat at home alone with her cats!" He goaded, prompting jeers from the others and heightened clicking as they all sought to capture her angry reaction.

Her reaction, however, was more concerned than angry - she could almost feel the fury emanating from Matthew.

Matthew stopped walking abruptly, his expression stony. He turned to the last photographer who had spoken. "Leave her alone." His posture had changed, Mary noticed; he was standing much taller, his shoulders and chest seeming broader than normal. His voice was low and strong, almost threatening. She'd seen him worked up before, but never like this.

"Why should I?" The man replied eagerly, happy to see that he had elicited a reaction from one of them. "She's grown up in the public eye - she's made herself public property. She's fair game, mate." He said from behind his camera, which was still clicking away mere inches from Matthew's face.

"That's not true and you know it." Matthew said slowly, as if trying to rein in his anger.

"Don't take it out on me, mate - you've either got a girlfriend who everyone else has already been in, or one who doesn't know what she's doing. I'd have gone astray if I were you, too!"

The photographer was barely able to let out a laugh at his own comment before Matthew's fist made contact squarely with his jaw.

"Matthew!" Mary exclaimed as she watched the man tumble backwards from the force of the hit, the other men doing nothing but stepping aside as he fell and documenting the fall with their lenses. Matthew ignored her, his whole body tensed and his fist still clenched. The other photographers were going mad, the camera flashes somehow even more rapid than before. "Let's go." She said, hastily grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her, taking advantage of the fact that the other men were still distracted by their fallen comrade. She turned the corner and went up to a small garden, which was for keyholders only. She quickly dug the key out from her handbag and let them in, leading Matthew to the middle of it. At least they could hide in here, amongst the foliage, while their pursuers gave up trying to find them. She shook her head at the absurdity of it all.

"I'm fine, you don't need to hold my hand." Matthew said stubbornly, removing his hand from her grasp. The anger hadn't faded from his expression.

"You mustn't let this get to you so much, Matthew." Mary said, observing him. "This sort of behaviour is common these days. You can't let them affect your own conduct." God knew how the papers would react to this latest development, but she wasn't going to bring that up now, not when Matthew was already so incensed.

"It's just disappointing to think that people can be so unfeeling." Matthew replied, clearly still perturbed by the experience. "I can't believe your father allows this."

Mary scoffed. "Well, what can he do? Outlaw the free press? Ban people from owning cameras?"

Matthew shook his head. "No - I mean allowing you to spend your life as a socialite and be constantly hounded by these bastards."

Now Mary was set on edge. "He didn't 'allow' me to do anything." She said sternly. "It's not like it was my dream to spend the formative years of my life attending parties with the same vacuous people and I had to convince him to let me do so."

"So he forced you into it?" Matthew asked sceptically. He doubted Robert would be so conservative as to dictate the course of his daughter's life. "Look, it doesn't matter whose decision it was, but it's a bloody stupid one. You heard what that guy said - they all think you're public property because of your lifestyle! How can you put up with them denigrating you like that?"

If Mary hadn't been brought up to master the art of self-restraint, she would have thumped Matthew in the same way he'd hit the photographer.

"What I do with my life is none of your business." She said sternly. "I don't judge you by your choices, do I?"

"Don't you?" Matthew challenged. "I know you like to pretend that you're the only one who gets judged by their appearance, but I'm pretty damned sure that you weren't too thrilled when you first saw me in my battered Converse." He said firmly.

It was difficult for Mary to respond to this. He had a fair point, to her frustration.

"And I'd wager that you weren't exactly indifferent when you were told that I was an accountant." Matthew continued.

"Fine - maybe I did judge you." Mary relented. "But I never voiced it, did I? You, on the other hand, are trying to advise me to change my life when you know very little about it."

"Is there much more to know besides the fact that you attend parties draped in designer clothes and get gossiped about? And that all this is sanctioned by a supposedly modern politician?" Matthew asked bluntly. Her countenance grew even more displeased as he spoke, and he realised he was treading a very fine line between being concerned and speaking out of turn. Perhaps he'd already crossed that line. "All I'm saying is that I think it's in your control to change this." He said more calmly, gesturing behind him to where he presumed the paparazzi were awaiting their return.

"I think you need to do your research a little bit more before you start getting too self-righteous." Mary said, making it clear that she didn't appreciate his comments. What made him think that he had any entitlement whatsoever to voice his thoughts about her situation? He'd been a presence in her life for less than three weeks. Granted, he'd been much more exposed to the behind-the-scenes workings of her world than most people, but it wasn't enough for him to make calls on what was and wasn't within her control. As if it had never occurred to her that she might be able to improve her situation!

Matthew looked at her for a few moments. "Alright," he conceded, "I'm sorry." There wasn't much conviction behind what his apology and Mary presumed it was a mere courtesy to stop them from arguing any longer.

"I'm sorry, too." She offered quietly. He looked surprised. "For judging you. I suppose it was rather hypocritical of me. Although you really do need some new shoes." She added in an attempt to lighten the mood. She didn't like arguing with him - not seriously, anyway. Besides, as much as it peeved her that he tried to impose his uninformed views on her, it was somewhat comforting to know that somebody actually cared about her to some extent. In fact, he was probably the first person she'd ever met who had tried to protect her from the bad parts of her life. "And thank you for standing up to that photographer."

At this, Matthew's expression finally softened. "Any time." He replied, and Mary could tell that he truly meant it.

...

A/N: sorry for the slight delay in updates! I'd had this chapter partly-written for ages but only just sat down to finish it off. I know a couple of you remarked that you wanted more of Mary's back-story - honestly, I'd been meaning to elaborate on this a few chapters back, around the garden party chapters, but then got distracted by other things and it kept getting pushed back. This will be explored in more detail later on, but I wanted to include a little allusion to it here. I hope that it was alright! Please let me know your thoughts and thanks so much for your continued support xxx