Chapter 18

Mary, Servants Ball, January 1920

Mary stood quietly at the side of the room watching Matthew. He was dancing with the cook, Mrs Patmore, which, given the height difference between them, was bordering on comical. Matthew was always a good sport at the Servants' Ball and she knew from Anna that all the female staff wanted to dance with him. She couldn't blame them; he always looked dashing in his white tie, and tonight was no exception. Given that she was now no longer engaged to another man, she felt a little freer to watch him publicly, but she knew she was still in danger of drawing attention to herself.

Looking at him now she couldn't help but remember what had happened last night. She'd been talking, arguing, with Richard and as he raised his voice to her Matthew had burst in all guns blazing! She'd asked him later and he'd said that he'd been hovering outside the door to make sure she was alright, and was worried that Richard might hurt her. She'd been frightened when Matthew punched Richard but also, at the same time, never felt more protected; more taken care of. Matthew had been her hero last night, and, if it were possible, it made him look all the more handsome tonight.

She glanced around the room, but her eyes were drawn back to him. She watched as a strand of his hair loosed itself from its place and fell across his face. He let go of Mrs Patmore for a brief moment to brush it out of his eyes and, as he did, he looked up at her and caught her eye. She was instantly embarrassed, but he smiled widely at her and, briefly checking no one else was watching, he winked at her. She stifled a giggle and looked away. Her insides felt like they were doing somersaults; how ridiculous that he could still make her feel like this!

As the dance finished Matthew bowed to Mrs Patmore and came over to her.

"Did I see you laughing at me?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

She smiled at him.

"Me?!" she replied with mock outrage.

"Yes, you, Lady Mary Crawley, I saw you!"

Behind him Mary could see a gaggle of female maids clearly hovering in the hope of catching Matthew's eye.

"I think you might be in demand, Mr. Crawley!" she said indicating towards the group with a smile.

Matthew grinned at her.

"It appears, My Lady, that I must beg you pardon."

He kissed her hand in an exaggerated manner and went to sweep some lucky maid off her feet.

Mary felt giddy. He was flirting with her. Definitely flirting. She hardly dared to let herself hope this meant something.

Matthew, Servants' Ball January 1920

Matthew scanned the room for Mary. He couldn't see her, perhaps she'd stepped out for a moment. It had been such a wonderful evening; he always loved the Servants' Ball, but tonight had been the best night he'd had in as long as he could remember. He'd drunk enough wine to make him feel slightly fuzzy around the edges, but his mind was clear: he was going to ask Mary to marry him!

Mary was always beautiful, but tonight she was simply radiant, and he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her. He'd have happily danced only with her this evening, but his role at the Ball, like all the family, was to dance with the staff and ensure they were having a good time. He felt he had more than done his duty when he broke the rules and asked Mary to dance. Dancing with her again had been intoxicating. With his arms around her he felt, as he had done that fateful last dance, that he was where he belonged. She fitted into his arms perfectly, and completed him. He'd already made his peace with regards to his vow to Lavinia, but it was as they were dancing that he'd decided that he would ask her to marry him tonight. He'd let her slip through his fingers once before and he wasn't about to let that happen again, and he didn't want to waste a single second of time they might have together.

He felt the beginnings of nerves as he continued to look for her. She was definitely not in the room. He sidled quietly up to Carson who was watching proceedings from the sidelines like a presiding judge.

"Carson, you don't happen to know where Lady Mary is, do you?" he asked trying to keep his tone light.

"I believe she has stepped outside the front door for some air, Mr. Crawley" Carson replied, and Matthew was sure he smiled at him knowingly.

"Thank you."

He moved through the crowd towards the front door; she was standing just outside framed by the door jambs like a portrait. It had started to snow, very gently, and flakes fell around her as she looked out over the grounds. Matthew stopped and watched her for a moment, his heart beating loudly in his chest. She looked like a princess from a fairy tale, and he was momentarily frozen to the spot. To think he was about to ask her to marry him. He felt, in that moment, so utterly blessed.

He took a deep breath, mustered his courage, and stepped out into the snow.