The soft crunch of his footsteps on the gravel path lent a soothing rhythm to Carson's thoughts as he made his way back to the Abbey from the village. His unsettled mind was far from silver polish and postal stamps. His thoughts, as they had been for the past few weeks, revolved around Mr. Brodie's letter and the news it had carried.
Try as he might, Mr. Carson could not fathom who would have been careless enough to let slip Lady Mary's true parentage. For a dark moment, he considered His Lordship's involvement but dismissed the idea as soon as he thought it. Despite his faults, Lord Grantham would never do such a thing to his wife and daughter.
That left the servants. Carson had considered each one thoroughly, but as far as he knew none of them had learned of his affair with Lady Grantham. Certainly, the only person besides himself that was still at the Abbey since the affair was Mrs. Patmore and he doubted she would have been observant enough back then to have noticed. Of course, Thomas and Ms. O'Brien were likely culprits. They seemed to thrive on secrets, but Carson was sure that they would have tried something closer to home rather send their knowledge elsewhere.
The only person who Carson knew had recently come into the knowledge of his affair with Lady Grantham was Lady Mary herself. Had she unknowingly let slip to someone she thought a friend that she was not the legitimate daughter of the Earl of Grantham? Carson shook his head. Lady Mary would never do something so stupid!
But none of this speculation explained that other rumor. The one about his Lady Mary entertaining that Turkish gentleman in her bed the night that he died. That rumor Carson refused to believe. He thought it a malicious lie meant to boost the credibility of the first rumor. Even though, remembering back, Carson had noticed how abnormally emotional Lady Mary had been at the time. He had accounted it to her first real experience with death. Even when he had found her in Mr. Pamuk's room he had thought little of it.
Carson shook his head and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to clear his mind. He was only going in circles with this line of thinking. He had more important things to worry over. The Dowager Countess and Mrs. Crawley and Mr. Matthew were coming to dinner tonight. He needed to focus on the preparations for that. Sparks always flew when those two formidable women were in the same room. Dinners with Lady Violet and Mrs. Crawley were always either highly amusing or highly uncomfortable. Carson didn't know which he preferred less.
Carson was glad that Mr. Matthew was coming to dinner if only for Lady Mary's sake. He smiled faintly thinking of how close the two of them were becoming. He had been against the match in the beginning. How could a solicitor from Manchester be worthy of his Lady Mary? Nevermind that he was Lord Grantham's heir. But it soon became clear, even to Carson, that they were enamored of each other. Mr. Matthew was a bit rough around the edges but he was a good man, Carson thought. And if he made Lady Mary happy then Carson was glad of it.
Stepping through the wrought iron gate into the main drive of the Abbey the imposing facade of the castle came into view. Carson swept his eyes from top to bottom looking for any imperfections that would need tending. He did the same for the front lawn until his eyes settled on a figure sat on a bench beneath the large cedar tree. As he walked closer he recognized the figure as Lady Mary. And...it appeared she was crying. He slowed to a halt.
Carson looked hesitantly between the upset young woman and Downton Abbey. Upon his return from London, he had made the decision to keep his distance from Lady Mary. He had thought it best to give the young Lady some space to spend time with her family. Now, though, he felt his resolve begin to crumble.
His feet were moving before he had made a conscious decision. In a few long strides, he was in hearing distance and coughed to make his presence known. He glanced away as Lady Mary reached up to wipe away the evidence of her tears. He stopped in front of her smiling kindly.
"Is everything all right, my Lady?"
"Of course, Carson," Lady Mary sniffed looking defiantly at him through the tear tracks on her face.
Carson looked fleetingly toward the Abbey before taking a few quick steps to carefully ease himself onto the bench beside her. He looked out across the lawn for a moment before beginning softly. "I know I have not been the most...attentive of butlers these past weeks, but know that you may always confide in me. And know that I will always be on your side."
Lady Mary had kept her eyes on her trembling hands as he spoke. Carson waited patiently for her to speak until she gasped suddenly, "Oh Carson, I'm ruined!"
Carson pulled the crying young woman into his embrace. "Don't say that, my Lady. You're not ruined."
"But I am!" she sobbed into his shoulder. "There are rumors...awful rumors…"
"I know, my Lady," Carson soothed, "but they're just that. Rumors. They aren't true."
Lady Mary became more hysterical at his words. Carson held her tighter until she calmed enough to whisper into his jacket. Carson almost believed he had misheard her at first. He had to ask her to repeat herself.
"But they aren't just rumors, Carson. They're true. All of them. Even the one about Mr. Pamuk."
Carson felt himself stiffen as her admission sank in. He couldn't believe what she had just told him. He had spent so long denying the story of Lady Mary and Mr. Pamuk that he was left in shock. He could only blink as Lady Mary pulled away from him to stand away from the bench where he still sat.
"What must you think of me," she said wrapping her arms around herself. "You must be so disappointed in me."
"No," Carson said automatically. He was shocked by her admission, he couldn't deny it, but had she really done anything worse than he had all those years ago with Lady Grantham? He took a moment to gather himself and then stood to walk over to her. He bent his head to look steadily into her eyes. "I think, we all of us make mistakes and that we cannot be expected to be forgiven of our own if we do not forgive others."
Lady Mary looked up at him helplessly. "I don't know what to do, Carson."
Carson thought hard about what he should say to her. She needed his support in this, but she didn't need any false promises that everything would be perfect. He wasn't sure that he was the best person for this type of advice. He had kept his own transgression a tightly kept secret until very recently and even now he was doing his best to avoid acknowledging it. The story about Lady Grantham and a servant having an illicit child together never mentioned who the servant was. Perhaps it was cowardly of him, but he was glad that that piece of information had yet to come to light. He felt guilty knowing that this rumor was affecting Lady Grantham and Lady Mary so much. But he did agree with Lady Grantham that ignoring it was the best course of action. Perhaps if the family closed ranks, as it had done, the story would fade, but if he tried to draw attention away from Lady Mary by acknowledging his part that would only give credence to the story. How could any of this help Lady Mary now?
"My Lady," Carson began, "you have the love of your family and a home to support you. These rumors may cause you some trouble now, but you are strong enough to outlast them. Because they will fade eventually. They will," he said again reaching for her hands to squeeze them encouragingly. "You must remember that you are Lady Mary Crawley. And that means that you aren't alone. Even in this."
Mary smiled through her tears at him. "Thank you, Carson. I can always count on you for a boost in confidence."
"And you will always find one here, my Lady."
Some Weeks Later
Matthew held Lady Sybil as steady as he could in the speeding car. She was still unconscious from her fall at the vote count in Ripon. Matthew hadn't planned on staying as late as he had at the office, but he was ever grateful that he had been on hand to assist Branson. He still
"Steady on!" Matthew called to Branson as the chauffeur took a sharp turn without slowing from the already rapid speed of the car.
"I'm sorry," Branson nearly cried. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."
The man had been beside himself since those ruffians had pushed into the courtyard where the byelection results were called. Matthew felt sorry for the poor man. He was sure to lose his job now. Lord Grantham had made himself very clear when he had forbidden Sybil from going back to Ripon for any political reasons. Even if Branson had been tricked by Sybil's story as everyone else apparently had, Matthew doubted Robert would be any more lenient.
The car sped into the main street of Downton Village. They had made better time than Matthew had hoped. He looked down at the still form of Sybil in his arms. They couldn't take her to the Abbey looking like this. She had dirt and blood staining her face and her clothes weren't much better. The hospital was out of the question, too. The very first person Dr. Clarkson would call would be Robert.
"Stop by Crawley House, Branson," Matthew called. Branson barely acknowledged him, but he turned down the street leading to the house. "Mother will know what to do."
Mary closed the door to Sybil's room behind her. Mama was with her younger sister now trying to calm her down from the argument with their Papa. He had stormed out of the room and Mary didn't know where he had gone. She hoped he would calm down before he talked to Branson. She didn't approve of the friendship between the chauffeur and her sister, but she didn't believe that man needed to be sacked. Sybil had clearly lied to him to get to Ripon. It wasn't entirely his fault.
Mary sighed as she began to descend the main staircase. She hoped that Sybil and Papa wouldn't stay angry for very long.
"Is Lady Sybil all right?"
Mary looked up in surprise to see Matthew waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She smiled warmly at his worried expression. He really had been a hero tonight.
"She will be," she laughed. She leaned conspiratorially closer to him to say, "it's Papa you should be worried about. He seems likely to explode any minute. I do hope Branson stays clear for a few days."
Matthew's eyes crinkled in amusement. "I'm sure he will. I would if I were him."
They were standing very close together now. Mary felt herself become breathless held in his gaze. Her eyes fluttered shut as Matthew bent his head to hers.
"I've laid the sandwiches for Mr. Crawley in the dining room, my Lady."
Mary jumped back from Matthew at the interruption. He looked as uncomfortable as she to be caught out by Mrs. Hughes. Mary managed a smile in the housekeeper's direction while trying to avoid her knowing gaze. "Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. That will be all."
Mrs. Hughes nodded at the two young people and took her leave. Mary noticed Matthew's confusion for the first time and laughed at him. Why was it that all she could seem to do around him was smile?
"I couldn't let Lady Sybil's hero starve, could I?" Mary called over her shoulder as she led Matthew to the dining room. She would keep him company while he ate. It was the least she could do. She glanced back at him to see the same smile she felt on her own face.
"I could strangle that boy! To have put Lady Sybil in such danger!"
Mrs. Hughes barely refrained from rolling her eyes at Mr. Carson. The butler had been railing at her since she'd walked into his pantry for their now customary nightly glass of sherry. She had been looking forward to sharing how she had walked in on Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew. It was a bit of good news for the house that she'd thought would cheer Mr. Carson from his gloom of the past few weeks. Instead, she had walked into the lion's den.
She didn't know why Mr. Carson was so angry at poor Mr. Branson. From what she had overheard the lad had been tricked into going to Ripon by Lady Sybil. Mr. Branson had only been following orders, as far as she was concerned. Unfortunately, Mr. Carson was not of the same mind.
"If it were up to me, that boy would be leaving this house tonight!" Mr. Carson declared.
Mrs. Hughes had had enough. "Really, Mr. Carson! If Mr. Branson should leave then so should you!"
Mr. Carson's face fell slack in shock. Mrs. Hughes continued before he could recover.
"Mr. Branson knew just as much about Lady Sybil's plans as you did when you escorted her out of the front door and into the waiting car! No one knew that Lady Sybil was going to the reading of the votes because she didn't tell anyone. The lad was just doing his job. No man should be sacked for that."
Mr. Carson was speechless but only for a moment. "I can't believe that you're defending that boy. And to accuse Lady Sybil of such-"
"Mr. Carson!" Mrs. Hughes shouted slamming her empty sherry glass onto the table between them. She closed her eyes to take a deep breath to calm herself. "I'll say goodnight before either of us say something we'll regret."
She heard Mr. Carson clamber to his feet as she stormed out of his pantry. That man was so infuriating! Couldn't he step down from his high horse for one moment to see how the rest of us lived?
"Mrs. Hughes, wait!" She thought of ignoring him and continuing on to her bedroom. "Mrs. Hughes, wait. Please."
She stopped on the first stair with her hand on the railing. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she turned to face him. From her position on the staircase she was looking down into Mr. Carson's contrite face. Mrs. Hughes almost forgot her anger.
"Mrs. Hughes, I," Mr. Carson began hesitantly tugging nervously on the bottom of his waistcoat. "I must apologize for my behavior. My problem is with Mr. Branson, not you." Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes in exasperation. "And if it is agreeable to you, I hope we can finish our nightcap together. I promise to remain on my best behavior."
"Mr. Carson," she sighed down at his hopeful face. "I accept your apology," his eyes brightened, "but I am truly tired and will say goodnight now."
Mr. Carson nodded, resigned. "Goodnight then, Mrs. Hughes. Sleep well."
In the dining room, Matthew held Mary's chair for her as they both settled at the table. Matthew looked speculatively at the small spread in from of them.
"Let us drink to Sybil's safe return."
Mary smiled at Matthew's toast and looked away from him to find another glass. Not finding one near she began to rise. "Why not? I'll ring for a glass."
"Never mind that," he said handing Mary his full glass of wine and reaching for his water goblet to fill it with wine.
"You're not very fastidious about doing things properly, are you?" Mary smirked at him over her own glass.
"Are you?"
"Less than you might think," Mary smiled coyly at him as they raised their glasses in a silent toast.
Matthew turned from Mary to lift the silver dome from the serving plate in front of him to reveal a stack of neat sandwiches. He reached for one and asked, "Are you at all political?"
Mary smiled ruefully at him. "Yes, but with a hung parliament, it's hard to get excited about a byelection. You know nothing will change whoever gets in."
"I suppose that's practical," Matthew said between bites. Mary sniffed playfully at his lack of manners. Matthew merely raised an eyebrow and reached for another sandwich.
"Thank you for coming to Sybil's rescue. You were very brave. Sybil said you knocked a man down."
"I hope I did my duty," he said looking at her seriously.
Mary studied him intently for a long moment. "Are you a creature of duty?"
"Not entirely," he said slightly taken aback.
Mary smiled again into her glass. She looked up at him wickedly. "When you laugh with me or flirt with me," she paused, "is that a duty? Are you confirming to the fitness of things? Doing what's right?"
Matthew held her gaze with smiling eyes. "Don't play with me. I don't deserve it. Not from you."
Mary broke away from his gaze to look down the table. "You must be careful not to break Sybil's heart. I think she has a crush on you," she said glancing back to him.
"Well, that's something no one could accuse you of," Matthew chuckled.
With his attention turned away from her, Mary studied Matthew more closely. She had never denied he was a handsome man and lately she had come to more than enjoy his company. Their day spent touring local churches had proven that. True, she had been unkind to him when they had first met, but now. Did Matthew truly think she disliked him?
"I wouldn't be so sure of that."
Matthew's wide eyes flew back to hers with a spark of hope. "Is that so?"
He was leaning towards her across the small space between them and Mary's breath seemed to catch in her throat. A slow smile spread across her face as his intentions became clear. She breathed a small "yes" as she closed the distance between them.
There were no interruptions this time.
Carson closed his last account book for the night with a sigh. Today had been trying. At least, the evening had been trying. The morning had started out well enough, but after the stunt Branson pulled with Lady Sybil in Ripon things had fallen apart.
He had been shocked when Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley had brought a bruised and battered Lady Sybil in the front door. That shock had turned to anger when he had learned why she had been in that state. He had given Mr. Branson the dressing down of his life. The fool boy would have been out on his ear if it had been left up to him, but His Lordship had said that he would deal with it. It didn't sit well with Carson, though.
And there was that business with Mrs. Hughes. His face turned into a thoughtful frown. He had been a bit overbearing but he hadn't thought it too much. Surely that wasn't the only reason she was angry.
A swift knock on his door pulled him from his dark thoughts. Seeing the young lady standing in his doorway drew a warm a smile to his face as he stood.
"Lady Mary," he greeted her warmly as she walked into to his pantry to stand on the opposite side of his desk. "How can I help?"
Lady Mary practically beamed at him. "I have some news, Carson, that I wanted to tell you personally."
Carson waited patiently for her to continue but she only looked away in seeming embarrassment. Carson couldn't imagine what could cause her to act in such a way. She didn't seem too distressed so it obviously couldn't be bad news about Lady Sybil. She seemed happier than she had been in a long time. But he still could not fathom what could have happened so late in the evening to cause her happiness.
"Matthew's asked me to marry him," Mary let out in a rush. She looked expectantly at him from the other side of the desk. Carson stood still for only a moment before he felt his own face stretch into a smile.
"Does that make you happy?" Carson asked needlessly.
"Yes," Mary beamed breathlessly until a flash of uncertainty clouded her face. "But can I accept him, Carson?"
Carson frowned trying to follow her logic. Mr. Crawley was clearly smitten with her. Anyone could see it. And Lady Mary seemed fit to burst with pride when she'd told him of Mr. Crawley's proposal. Why wouldn't she accept him?
"My Lady?"
Mary nearly sighed in frustration. "He doesn't know," she said gesturing between them, "about you or anything. How can I accept him without telling him? Wouldn't I be lying to him?"
Carson was silent for a long moment. "If that is how you feel, then you should tell him before."
A huff of air escaped her this time as she looked pleadingly to her butler. "But what if I tell him and it changes how he feels?"
"My Lady," Carson began gently, walking around his desk to stand in front of her. She looked so fragile standing in the middle of his pantry staring at him with such misery it nearly broke his heart. He stood tall and in his sternest voice, he said, "If he cannot love all of you, my Lady, then he does not deserve you. But I do not think that will be the case," he added with a smile.
Carson was graced with Mary's wide smile as she stepped into him to place a small kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Carson."
Carson watched her leave his pantry with a fond smile. He had a story to tell Mrs. Hughes in the morning.
A/N: I know it has been a long time since I posted anything for this story. I'm trying to get back into it, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to finish it. I've got outlines for the final 3 chapters and I'll work on them when I can.
Thank you for reading this story and to everyone who reviews. They really do mean a lot!