Author's Note: Thanks Blue Blossoms, RHatch 89, and Guest for writing reviews on the last chapter. I'll resolve the issue on how Cora refers to Violet in forthcoming chapters; she did indeed call Violet "Mama" as she called her own mother. I appreciate the feedback, and will be more accurate because of it. Also, thanks to mayagirl99 for following.
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Episode 1.07: Suffraging, Part One
June 1914
Downton House was once again a hive of activity early the morning of the tenth day of June 1914. The house had been open for only about two months, but that morning, the Granthams were planning a very special event. Just before lunch, Lady Mary was to return on the afternoon train from London after she had spent a year in New York.
Cora Grantham had the servants decorating the entire house gaily in preparation for Mary's arrival. In addition to welcoming her eldest daughter back home, there was already a full booking of guests set to visit for dinners, hunts, and wooing the Grantham girls. She had already checked off two items on her extensive checklist of things that needed to be done: the food had been ordered and she was managing the arrangement of flowers and decorations.
"Now, I want the lilacs all together on the mantle," she instructed William, "and all of the roses need to go on that table over there," Cora pointed Thomas to a table across the foyer from the telephone. As the two men set the vases of flowers in their respective places, Cora nodded and smiled her approval. "Yes, that's it precisely. It looks marvelous so far."
Robert walked down the stairs and stood beside his wife in his walking coat. "You're doing a most magnificent job here, Cora. I feel I need to step out of the house so as not to be run over by all this hustle and bustle!" he chuckled.
"Thank you, dear. Where are you going to now?"
"Just out for a bit of fresh morning air around the grounds."
"Please make haste back. You wouldn't want to be late for Mary's return!"
"Of course not. I'll return shortly." Robert tipped his hat at his wife and headed out the front door.
Resuming her coordination of the decorations, Cora turned to Thomas and William. "Now, I'd like to tackle the placement of these beautiful lamps from Tiffany. I want them to be placed strategically near the doors so they can give the most illumination and be great conversation pieces."
Sybil descended the stairs at a trot and gasped at the arrangements Cora had underway. "Goodness Mama! I do believe that if you were organizing the suffrage rallies like this, then our right to vote would be secured!"
Cora fiddled nervously with the pearl necklace around her slim throat, and aimed a sharp glance at her youngest daughter. When coupled with her yellow dress, Cora seemed even more austere and reserved. "Please do not bring up the suffragettes; it makes me think of that poor woman who was trampled by a horse last year. That's the only reservation I have to you being at one of those rallies, Sybil. It upsets my stomach at the mere thought."
"Mama, I'm hardly more than a spectator."
"Be that as it may, it seems that all the news about suffragettes is so tragic."
"We are getting closer and closer to securing the vote. That can't be tragic at all, Mama."
Cora merely smiled. "Sybil, while you're here, could you be a dear and find Edith for me. I wanted to go over the dress she'll be wearing for dinner tomorrow night."
"Certainly, Mama." Sybil started to leave then stopped and turned around. "Mama, who is coming to dinner tomorrow night?"
"Well, in addition to Mama, we'll have the honor of hosting Sir Antony Strallan and Viscounts Dudley and Edwin Bradford." Sybil smiled at the mention of Viscount Dudley. Cora noticed her daughter's smile but said nothing else. "Anyway, you go on and find Edith."
Almost as soon as Sybil left the room, Cora sat on one of the parlor sofas and continued to fiddle with her pearls. Mrs. Hughes walked into the room and spotted Cora reclining on the sofa. "Lady Grantham, is everything alright?"
"Yes, I believe so," Cora nodded, "but would you please call Doctor Clarkson to pay a visit anyway?"
"Certainly, Lady Grantham." Mrs. Hughes walked to the phone.
Sybil found Edith on the patio with a letter in her hands. The elder Crawley sister wore a simple sage green dress with an elegant yellow bow tied around her trim waist. Edith glanced up when she saw her younger sister approaching and smiled. "Hello, Sybil. What brings you out here?"
"What is that, Edith? Is it a letter? From whom?" Sybil sat down in one of the patio chairs across from her elder sister.
"You shouldn't pry so into the lives of other people. It isn't very polite." Edith folded the letter down and stuffed it into the envelope from the table in front of her.
"As Granny would say, we are British. Prying into the lives of others is what we do best."
Edith smirked at Sybil's cheekiness. "You make a valid point. So I'll tell you: That was a letter from Lord Evelyn Napier."
"Lord Napier? Isn't Sir Antony Strallan already courting you, Edith?"
"Evelyn and I are merely bosom friends. We write each other from time to time. What brought you out here? Have you come to look at Mama's garden?"
"Mama sent me to find you because she wants to discuss your attire for tomorrow evening's dinner. Then a grin broke out upon Sybil's face. "Are you really balancing courtships between Sir Antony and Lord Evelyn? Please tell me." Edith smirked coyly. "How exciting!"
"I thought you were too engaged with the vote to interested at all in matters of the heart, Sybil?"
"Edith, just because I believe women should be more than a wife and mother does not mean I am unable to be elated for the marriage prospects of my sister. And I should be excited for at least one of my sisters. I have no idea if Mary will marry."
"No man should be burdened with the weight of such wicked woman as a wife."
Sybil's eyes grew wide in shock. "Edith! What would possess you to say such a thing about our sister? I know you and Mary hardly are bosom friends, but why would you say that?"
"That's no matter, Sybil. About your current cause, the liberation of our gender, I am proud that you're so grounded and far-seeing."
"Do you say that to imply that my causes have no impact upon our futures?"
"No at all, Sybil. I only wish I could be as brave as you."
Sybil smiled brightly. "Very well: Come with me to Rippon tomorrow. There's a rally taking place before the next election and I plan to be there."
"How will you get to Rippon? The Bradfords and Sir Anthony will be here tomorrow."
"I've already arranged to have Tom, the chauffeur, take me into town. I'd only be gone a short while. You should come with me."
"I'd love to accompany you, Sybil, but I'm afraid I would be a terrible guest. Perhaps you ought to invite Mary. She's far more rebellious than I am."
Two hours later,
Shortly before the afternoon tea, Mary Crawley finally returned to Downton Abbey.
Lord and Lady Grantham, Sybil, Edith, Thomas, Mr. Carson, and Mrs. Hughes all waited on the front drive of the mansion as the open air carriage approached. From yards away, Mary's regally upright figure was obviously in a yellow traveling dress, wide-brimmed sunhat, and a white silk scarf tied around her head. Mary smiled as the carriage approached closer, and Cora smiled back. When the driver stopped at the front door, the footman jumped down, opened Mary's door, and assisted her as she stepped out. Mary's grin broadened even further. "Hello, Mama; hello, Papa. It's so good to see the both of you again."
Mary rushed into Cora's arms and hugged her mother tightly. Then she hugged her father. Cora took Mary's hands and examined her daughter at length. "It seems as though you enjoyed too much sun while you were in New York. Did Mama take you to one of the beaches?"
"Yes, it was one social event after another with Grandmama! We went to Newport just before the end of the summer, and I believe she was doing her best to marry me off to a New York millionaire."
"Really?" Robert asked.
Cora rolled her eyes at her husband's playful inquisitiveness, and Mary giggled. "At any rate, Mama, I am still an English rose and I will regain my proper color."
"And I see you maintained your figure as well."
Mary smiled sadly for just a few seconds, then resumed her happy smile. "Yes, Mama."
"Well, we can discuss this all later. For now, let us enjoy our afternoon ea."
Robert led the way into the mansion, followed by his women, Mr. Carson, and Mrs. Hughes. William and Thomas remained behind to unload Mary's luggage.
"What was New York like? What was Grandmama Livingston like?" Sybil asked.
Mary untied the silk scarf around her hat and handed the hat to Anna as the family strode across the parlor. "She was quite…animated. And headstrong; and generous. She gave me several gifts for all of you, and sends her love to all, especially Mama." Mary took Cora's hand and smiled. "She understands why you haven't written in some time, but she still misses your letters."
Cora smiled back. "What kept you, Mary? I thought you were going to be here at lunch time. You missed a spectacular meal."
"My apologies, Mama, but I had a minor delay at the train station. While I was there, I had to send a telegram of great importance."
Istanbul, nighttime.
While the Crawleys welcomed back Mary from her stay in New York, half a world away, Kemal Pamuk stood on the patio of his father's home and stared into the starry night sky. He stood alone on the patio with a glass of wine in his hand. Kemal was dressed in the sort of finery expected from someone of his class in attendance at an important social event: an elegant French-cut white silk shirt, tailored black dress pants, and black leather evening shoes. The passage of an entire year and all the events it had wrought upon Kemal's life had not marred the young man's dashing good looks. Yet, even to an untrained observer, there was a sort of aged wisdom in the depths of his dark eyes, the type that could only be gained from years of challenging experiences.
As Kemal stared into the night sky, a servant approached him. The man's station was defined by his garb of loose white linens. Kemal turned absent-mindedly toward the man. "A telegram for you, sir," the servant announced and offered Kemal a sheet of folded paper. Kemal took the telegram, and the servant returned to the house.
Kemal opened the telegram and read it carefully. His hands gripped the paper more tightly as his eyes darted along the page several times. When he finished the telegram, he dashed inside the house and found the servant standing outside Suleiman Pamuk's library. "Book me passage to England on the first boat departing," Kemal instructed breathlessly. The servant nodded and started to walk away, but Kemal grabbed the man's shoulder as a thought occurred to him. "Wait here. I will draft a telegram for you to send immediately to Grantham Village. Take it with you when you secure my passage; it will save you an extra trip."
He started to walk to the adjacent room, which was Suleiman Pamuk's office, but the library door opened. Suleiman Pamuk stood in the doorway. The passing of the year had added a few gray hairs to his moustache and hairline, but the man projected just as eminent a presence as ever in his evening attire. A worried expression had planted upon Suleiman's face. "My son? Did I hear you speak of booking a passage to England?"
Kemal turned impatiently. "Yes, Father; if I may obtain one, I mean to leave tomorrow morning. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
Suleiman sighed and folded his large hands together. "Is this a visit for business or pleasure?"
"What do you mean, Father?"
"I mean, are you still courting that Englishwoman, Lady Crawley? I believe that is her name."
"Yes, Father," Kemal sighed. "You know that I proposed to her, and she accepted my proposal. I intend to marry her."
"You proposed over a year ago. Do you believe, my son, that your proposal stands the test of an entire year? Englishwomen can be very fickle."
"I know Lady Mary's heart as well as I know my own. She loves me. Besides, Father, didn't you become betrothed to Mama when you were both very young, and remained betrothed for many years? Why should Mary and I be any different?"
"That was different, Kemal. Your mother and I were of the same people, the same culture. We understood what it meant to wait years to marry as young people. We were capable of honoring oaths. This Englishwoman," Suleiman waved his hand dismissively, as though waving off a gnat, "she is not of our people. They do not honor oaths."
"I do not believe that is true, Father."
"Whether you believe it or not, Kemal, that is the truth. You know her family would never condone such a union. They look upon us as little more than savages. To this Englishwoman, you were little more than an exotic adventure."
"That is not true!" Kemal exploded. He shook the telegram in his father's face; Suleiman retained a look of nonchalant disinterest. "Here, I have proof that she loves me! She summoned me back to England, now that she has returned to her family. And now that she has returned to her family, I mean to wed her before they can postpone our union any longer." Kemal sighed. "Father, please support me in this matter."
"And what will you do if I am reluctant to support such a foolish endeavor?"
Kemal set his jaw and glared at his father. "You cannot…"
"Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, my son." Suleiman softened his tone. "You do not understand, my son: The world is not what it once was. Our empire is not as strong as it once was. We have fought too many wars, especially with the rebels in the Balkans. Our attempts to negotiate understandings with the Russians…" Suleiman sighed.
"I do not trust the Englishwoman. She is not the solution; England wants no ties to our people. Find a pretty girl from amongst our people. Marry her. Make me a proud grandfather."
"What if I am marrying the mother of your grandchild?" Suleiman's eyebrows rose. "Father, when Lady Mary went to America, she went to give birth to my child without endangering her reputation in England. And when I go to England, I go to meet her…and our child."
"An unmarried English noblewoman returning to her home and family with a child in tow?" Suleiman shook his head. "No, my son, that is preposterous. The English value their honor too highly for that woman to be allowed in her family with your child in her arms. The English are not friends of the Turks. To her, you may have been an exotic liaison, one she may want to repeat. That is why she summoned you. It would be best, my son, if you stayed away." Suleiman turned to return to his work in the library.
"And what if I do not?" Kemal challenged.
Suleiman sighed, stopped, and turned to face his son. He seemed to have aged five years in the short span of time, so heavy were the words upon his lips. "If you choose to go to England and be with this Englishwoman, Kemal—if you choose to marry her—you will do so without my support, emotional or financial. And I will no longer have a son." Suleiman closed the library door behind him.
Downton Abbey, five hours later
As dessert (a rich tart of blueberries and strawberries) was served to the Crawleys, Cora spoke up over the usual dinner chatter. "Since it's only our family here tonight, I thought this would be the perfect time to deliver an announcement." She could not suppress the elated smile upon her face. "Lord Grantham and I are expecting another child."
The surprise was nearly unanimous around the entire table. While the Crawley sisters struggled to find words to express their feelings, most especially Mary, who seemed speechless, Isobel briskly spoke up first. "Congratulations to the both of you. I hope it shall be a healthy child."
"Likewise," Matthew interjected. However, his face betrayed his internal struggle. "Do you know whether it shall be a boy or a girl?"
"We can only hope it shall be a boy," Cora said thoughtlessly. Robert cut his eyes at his wife. Cora quickly added, "But we have been blessed with three beautiful daughters so far, so who's to say we shall not be delivered of a fourth?"
"It would be a pleasure to no longer be the youngest," Sybil said.
Cora beamed. "I certainly look forward to hiring a nanny, arranging the nursery...And, according to Doctor Clarkson, I am quite far along."
"One thing is for certain: There's an unemployed nurse who is just as thrilled at this impending birth as we all are," Violet chimed in.
"I'm certain this won't be the only recent birth," Edith mumbled. She sipped from her wine glass.
"What does that mean, Edith?" Mary snapped.
"Yes, Edith, what do you mean?" Robert added.
Edith set down her wine glass and delicately dabbed her lips. Cora and Mary all cast glances at Edith. "I only mean that sooner rather than later, one of us Crawley girls will be married off and start families of our own. Especially if Sir Anthony proposes marriage."
"Now, now, there's no need to be in such a rush, Edith. Such a thing will come in its due time," Robert chuckled.
"Why shouldn't she be in a rush? Edith has at last attracted a bee, and it won't be long before the bloom is gone from the rose," Violet interjected. Edith's face fell into distress. "In fact, Mary ought to be more concerned, unless her travels in New York piqued the interest of some millionaire."
"It would make an interesting match," Cora commented.
"Interesting?" Violet huffed. "It would be to our detriment to have to plant an English rose in the wilds of that country, Cora. Although I mean no offense to your upbringing, as you clearly made the best move."
Cora smiled.