XX
"Ich hoffe, dass diese neue Weimarer Republik besser mit den Strömungen des extremen Nationalismus umgehen kann. Sonst könnte es möglicherweise in einem weiteren Krieg enden.." Matthew tried not to get to animated in his discussion with his equal from the German delegation, but his right hand balled into a fist and he slammed it into his left to emphasize his point.
The older man noted, "Sie klingen immer noch wie ein Soldat. Sie müssen lernen, wie ein Diplomat zu sprechen."
Matthew nodded, knowing he was letting his private views get the better of him. "Ja. Danke…" The fortnight was finally drawing to a close. Nothing had been finalized but the members of the trade delegation seemed pleased with the inroads made. As head of the diplomatic mission Matthew had seen to it that an air of friendship and cooperation existed between Britain and this new post-war Weimar Republic of Germany.
It had not been easy. The January Spartacist revolt, the Januaraufstand, had ended in bloodshed and rancor between the socialist, communist, and nationalists factions that fought for control of post-war Germany. While it was in the British best interest to support the government that replaced the Kaiser, Matthew was unsure of Weimar's motivations and their ability to stave off further uprisings from the left and the right of the German political spectrum.
The streets weren't the safest places as random acts of violence could erupt at any time. Freikorps, groups of disgruntled ex -German army soldiers no longer needed or wanted under the terms of the Treaty of Versailles, found work as mercenaries protecting the interests of those who paid them or met their own political agendas.
Matthew just wanted to get out with as little harm as possible to either delegation or relations with Weimar.
Paris beckoned.
Mary.
Tomorrow morning he was to take the train to the Gare du Nord station in Paris.
Matthew and his German colleague sat, enduring another of Sir Edward Foxe's harangues about the bad weather and inedible food of his hosts. The canned goods manufacturer had been the bane of Matthew's time in Berlin. The man just would not stop whinging.
"Ich sagte ihm, er solle aufhören sich zu beschweren." Matthew rubbed his brow.
Bernhard von Hertling clucked and waved away Matthew's concerns. "Es ist nichts. Ich sagte das Gleiche bei Oxford vor dem Krieg. Scheint in diesem Land nie die Sonne?
The two chuckled. Matthew said good night and retired to his hotel room to finish packing.
Tomorrow could not come quick enough.
XX
"Mary you must listen to me." Rosamund's voice was insistent. "Lady Caroline will gossip all over London what she saw at the Savoy Grille. It's too juicy to resist."
"What is?" Mary tried to dismiss her aunt's concerns. Her voice turned haughty. "A simple lunch?"
"You know as well as I there's no such thing a simple lunch. Especially between a married man and a young woman known to be not his wife." Rosamund countered. "So you better well listen to me."
Mary's eye rolled in contempt. "I know my husband…."
"And I know you two have already been written about in the Sketch. You're developing quite the reputation."
"Matthew wouldn't do such a thing." Mary's teeth were gritted.
"A man you've known barely two months? That's suspicious as well. He's already got a reputation as a rake who is out for the main chance." Rosamund snapped. "And quite frankly the same is being said of you. That you deserve him because you married only to snatch the next heir."
Mary's head pounded. She was tired. Had been sick once again this morning. She was in no mood to hear Rosamund's repetition of old news.
"Matthew had his inheritance thrust upon him under the worst of circumstances. How dare anyone say anything else? He's suffered enough. I won't hear any stupid women chatter anything against him." Mary pushed herself out of the armchair. "If he had lunch with Rose it was perfectly above board."
"After he telephoned that he had put her on the train the previous night?" Rosamund got up to face Mary.
"I won't believe it." Mary was adamant. "It isn't what it seems."
"Is there room for misinterpretation? You have been steered by an expert hand into a convenient marriage for himself while he gets what he wants on the side."
Mary scoffed. "You don't have any right to say that about Matthew. I told him to see to Rose. She can be a difficult child."
"She's not a child, that's the point. She's 20 and quite fetching. We both saw how well they got on in London."
"So what?" Mary wanted to scream.
"Good looking boys like him get whatever they want." Rosamund hissed. "Listen to sense my girl."
"No I won't." Mary's voice was cold and sharp. "I won't listen to anything of the kind. I might not have known Matthew very long. But he's my husband. He's taken an interest in Rose is all. He's overprotective."
Rosamund's eyes narrowed to slits. "Let's just hope you're right. Otherwise we will all rue the day that man walked into our lives."
Mary could listen to no more. "I'm going upstairs to check on Sybil and the baby." And she fled the room before she either burst into tears or slapped Rosamund across the face.
On the stairs she felt dizzy. Grabbing the handrail she made her way up to the second landing.
Entering Sybil's room she found the new mother and child just finishing up nursing.
"Come in. Come in." Sybil said. "She'll fall asleep and I'm in need of some company."
"I'm not sure how good company I'll be. Rosamund has left me in quite the foul mood." Mary sat down on the window seat.
"Why is that?" Sybil made herself more comfortable in the chair near the window after putting Sybbie in the crib.
"Oh rumour and gossip I'm afraid. She's telling tales about Matthew and Rose. Positively eager as you please to relate it to me. Says they were seen cuddling and kissing at the Savoy Grille last week when she was supposed to be in Scotland and he was to have taken the train to Germany." Mary glanced out the window. "It's nonsense of course."
"It doesn't sound like the Matthew we've come to know." Sybil agreed. "He's been so kind and loving towards you. And he tried to talk sense into Tom."
Sybil was expecting Tom back any day. He had telegrammed that he and Kieran would be making the crossing on Sunday, weather depending. All was well with the family but no one else could afford to make the trip.
"I'm glad Tom is safe." Mary took Sybil's hand. "And thank you for standing up for Matthew…."
"But…" Sybil was aware of a touch of nervousness still in Mary's voice.
Mary glanced up through dark eyes. "It's just Rosamund. Getting under my skin. She's so sure of herself. And she doesn't even know…." She broke off the thought. How could she even think such things? It was disloyal. But with Matthew gone, she missed him so… and she was not feeling well at all lately.
"Know that you had an affair with Matthew before your marriage?" Sybil noted. "That he swept you off your feet with a look and a glance?"
"And a bit of French poetry?" Mary laughed. It was good to finally laugh. "Yes he did that."
Sybil nodded. "That's better. Matthew loves you more than life. Don't listen to Rosamund. She's bored. Relating gossip gives her something to do. She's jealous of Rose's youth. And your happiness."
"Are you saying she needs a man?" Mary sarcastically observed.
"Wouldn't do her any harm?" Sybil giggled. "Everybody's doing it…" And then she got more serious. "Speaking of that I've noticed you're off colour. A bit peaky lately. You do know why don't you?" And she turned her eye directly to Mary.
The two women looked at each other. Mary was silent.
"What?" Mary finally said, taken aback by Sybil's surety. "I am not. I can't be…"
"Really?" Sybil grinned. "I think the way you and Matthew retreat to your bedroom early every night when he's at Downton, it's more than likely you are."
"A baby?" Mary felt her stomach. "Is that why I've been so unwell? I never even thought. I mean the doctor said I would need an operation."
"Was he very sure about that?"
"No." Mary admitted. "He said nature might take its course."
"I think it has." Sybil leaned back in the chair. "A little cousin for Sybbie. How marvelous. You should go to London to see Dr. Ryder again. To make sure."
Mary's eyes danced suddenly in happiness. "I can't believe it. Matthew will be over the moon. Something to tell him when I meet him in Paris next week."
"How is he doing?" Sybil was distracted by the infant's mewling. She reached down and took her out of the crib.
He's been unable to telephone at all. The line is all crackles and disconnections."
"Does he intend to stay in London? We will be moving there when Tom finds work with one of the papers. His editor in Dublin has promised to put in a good word for him."
Mary was pleased. "So he's decided to settle in England after all?"
"Yes." Sybil said, the baby's soft cheek next to her own. "He realized he was being selfish. And he doesn't want to go back alone anymore."
"I'm glad. Matthew and I intend to go house hunting when he gets back. There are several town homes in Eaton Square that are quite suitable." Mary disclosed.
"I'm not sure we can afford that quite yet." Sybil replied. "Kensington maybe."
Mary sniffed imperceptibly.
"Don't be such a snob Mary." Sybil slyly smirked. "I don't think Matthew cares where he lives as long as you two are together."
Mary knew the truth of that. "Still, I think I will walk by them when I'm in London waiting to take the train to Dover."
"When do you meet Matthew in Paris?" Sybil was adjusting the baby against her shoulder.
"A few days from now. I want to be in Paris before his train arrives. I've booked us rooms at the Hôtel Ritz." Mary's eyes were drawn to the baby. To how content Sybil was.
"Do you want to hold her?" Sybil asked.
Mary reached out her hands and clasped the baby's head and abdomen. She clucked and cooed gently as little Sybbie stretched and reached out a tiny hand.
Mary grasped it in her finger.
She could barely breath she was so happy.
XX
The train whistled as it roared into the Gare du Nord.
Matthew emerged from his compartment. He quickly glanced up and down the track.
Where was Mary? He licked his lips and looked again left and right. He put down his case. A porter was bringing his luggage.
The bustle of the crowd hid many people from his view. He had telegrammed her knowing she had arrived in Paris the day before. Hers to him in Berlin simply stated that she would be there upon his arrival.
Oh he missed her. He physically ached to hold her.
"Matthew." Mary's voice came to him from afar. He turned and lifted up on his tip toes to see beyond the women's hats in his way. Instead she came up behind him and clasped his hand.
He turned. His bright smile lifted her spirits. She had been pacing up and down the platform waiting.
"Mary. Mary…." His lips lightly on hers. "Mary." They slipped along her neck.
She leaned into his touch. "I have rooms for us at the Hotel Ritz."
"Good." His voice that deep timbre he kept usually for their bedroom.
They continued to embrace as the crowd buffeted them left and right. "Let's get out of here." Matthew's whispered appeal.
Mary could only nod. She had felt his arms. His heat. His lips. She wanted all of him. There was so much to tell him. To ask him. Rosamund turned out to be partially right. There had been some gossip swirling in London society. Nothing direct to Mary's ears.
Not yet. Just the chinwagging of the bored. The judgmental.
But there was no way she was wrong in Matthew's love. His touch did not lie. Nor did his lips.
She was more than curious about it all though. What did they get up to?
And then of course the news about the baby.
All in good time.
They took a taxi to the hotel. Mary had chosen one of the best set of suites.
Matthew saw nothing except his wife. "My darling. Darling…." As soon as the door was closed behind the porter, he whisked her off her feet and onto the bed.
He laid her down carefully onto the pillows. A blonde lock falling down his forehead as he gazed down upon her. "I've thought about this moment ever since I left York. Did you miss me?"
"Ever so much." Mary confessed. She pulled him down for a long, deep kiss.
They made love with a mad passion. He removed her garments as carefully as his anxious fingers could. She pulled off the jacket and waistcoat and undid his trousers even as he groaned at her touch and lifted her chemise over her head.
He caught his breath when she was naked beneath him. "I feel like a man starved. But should we... I mean what you told me in London before I left. About wanting to wait?" He swallowed thickly. He really did not think he could wait any longer to take her. To be one with her.
"Never mind that." Mary responded quickly. "Come here..." She demanded. And she pushed her body up to meet his throbbing erection with a shuddering groan of pleasure. "Now. Yes. Yes."
Matthew's body betrayed him and he laid claim to her body. He was rough and demanding of her. His lips and teeth making quick bites along the nape of her neck.
Mary felt every inch of his shaft inside her. They each bucked and pulled against each other. His grunts grew loud with each thrust.
Wave upon crashing wave of pleasure overcame her. Each time she thought the peak had subsided, it came again.
His own, when it came, shattered him. His muscles spasmed and tightened and his breaths were shallow.
Matthew groaned into her hair as his body finally yielded up its last gasp of delight. Mary felt his delicious weight upon her until he lifted up and let go. He crashed down beside her.
Neither said anything. Neither were capable of saying anything or wanted to break the rapturous moment of euphoric resolution. Each panted quietly. Beads of sweat on Matthew's brow proof of his exertions. Mary's fingers crept over his chest to feel his heart beating fast.
Matching her own.
In what seemed like hours, but was actually just minutes later Matthew managed to say, "I think I hate my job."
"Really?" Mary well knew what he was to say. "Why?"
"Because it takes me away from you." His breath tickling her ear. "Mein Schatz, mein Liebling."
"We have all the time in the world now, though. Don't we darling? Say you don't have to leave soon." Mary's leg languidly moved over his, interwining with his own.
"No." His voice hoarse as her ministrations roused him again. "Not for a good while. Sir Eyre said Balfour was very pleased in one of his last actions as Foreign Secretary that we did such a good job under very strenuous circumstances. Therefore we would not be reconvening for at least a few weeks. Parliament is out of session. The King is in Scotland."
Mary cuddled closer. "Then we can take our time. "
She lifted her head up from where she had rested it on his chest. "This is the first time you've not complained I've chosen a luxurious accommodation for us. Don't tell me you've gone soft?"
Matthew chuckled deep in his throat. "Germany took austerity to a new level. The privations are quite unsettling. I won't complain about hot water, electricity, and plenty to eat."
"I'm glad you don't have to go straight back into it." Her fingers idly roaming across his abdomen.
His own wandering hand found its resting place on her right breast. He teased the nipple into an erect peak making Mary moan delightfully.
"Matthew." Mary said struggling to keep her composure under such exquisite torture. "I have some news."
"Hmmmm" Matthew glanced down at Mary's face. "Everyone is in good health I trust. Tom make it back in one piece?"
"Yes. Sybil telephoned he arrived two days ago. His rather outspoken brother in tow."
Matthew then remembered how remiss he had been upon leaving without telling Mary about the circumstances of Rose.
"Have you heard from Rose?"He asked, maybe rather too innocently.
Mary raised an eyebrow. "Have I? Yes. She's been on the line to me twice just in the past few days about your return."
Matthew gulped nervously. "Oh?"
Mary lifted herself reluctantly off Matthew's body. She curled a sheet around herself and sat facing him. "Matthew exactly what went on with Rose after I said you should see to her at the races? I've had to endure Aunt Rosamund recounting second hand gossip that you and Rose spent the night together then had a quiet tête-à-tête at the Savoy. You said she was on a train to Scotland."
Matthew was stunned. He had been so immersed in the German mission he had not given any of his adventures with Rose a thought. He should have known better than to take her to such a public place for lunch.
"That was partially a lie." He sat up as well. Took Mary's hand. "I didn't want to argue at 2am if the butler got Rosamund on the line. Truth is Rose was in a very bad way. She ..." He paused. "I found her later at a party. In a drug induced stupor. Cocaine. So I took her back to my rooms. I was only trying to help." He scratched his scalp. "I'm sorry."
"So she did spend the night." It wasn't exactly an accusation.
"Erm...Yes. I couldn't just chuck her out. We talked and I gave her some tea. I slept on the sofa in the sitting room." His shoulders slumped. "I meant to tell you. I had to catch the train ..."
"While still managing a long lunch at the Savoy?"
"She was hungry." He so innocently explained away a lunch with young woman not his wife. He gripped the side of his mouth with his teeth. "So was I. We were up until all hours. I put her on a train to Scotland..."
Only then did Mary pick up a slight prevarication.
Matthew's eyes moved ever so slightly back and forth. He seemed reluctant to continue.
Mary waited.
"Funny thing really... uh... Rose kissed me. As she boarded the train." He looked Mary in the eyes then. "I did nothing to promote that response. You must believe me." He blinked rapidly.
He looked so concerned. So chastened, Mary could only laugh. She reached out and lovingly put her hands through his locks of hair. He gripped her hand and kissed the palm.
How could she be mad? This was why she loved him so much.
"You did nothing but be your own self." Mary replied, all of it finally making sense to her. "She's developed quite the crush on you."
"I was only trying to help. She's so lost." Matthew was so relieved Mary understood.
"She's confused your kindness for fondness. But in so doing you've given everyone quite the wrong idea. I'm sure it will blow over, but you will have to let Rose down gently."
Matthew looked chagrined. "I will."
Then it was Mary's turn to stare. To suddenly develop a chill. She pulled the sheets around her closer. Rose could relate to Matthew in the one area that he still kept to himself. He so seldom talked about the war. His injury. She still knew so little about it. Rose as a nurse did not need lengthy explanations. She would just know. And relate.
Could she draw Matthew out on this subject? Would he welcome it? Or shut her out?
She would risk it. "What did you talk about?"
"When?" He asked partially absent mindedly, so glad Mary had forgiven him.
"With Rose." Mary's voice quavered.
"Oh." Matthew replied, understanding. He sighed heavily. "The war."
"Things you don't feel right talking about with me?"
Matthew felt a slight distance grow between them.
"I don't want to burden you." His voice became detached. "It's not a subject I find conducive to discussion."
But Mary would not be put off.
"I want to know. I want to help you. How did you know she was drugged?"
His eyes were darkened, a veil of protection. "Because I almost became an addict to morphine."
Mary blinked in surprise.
He felt wretched. He let her down. Such things were signs of weakness in a man's character to people of her society. They became objects of mockery and ridicule and scorn. He'd heard it enough times in the immediate post war as he'd overhear conversations at social gatherings. "I say," one nob would say to another, "Did you hear about old Parker? Off the beam on drink. Letting the side down for sure." And they'd tsk tsk and move on. Sniffing in disapproval. It had been one of the reasons he had disassociated himself from most of his friends from the officers clubs and university and spent so much time alone in Paris.
He felt more comfortable alone with only his own thoughts and demons for company. He had been the cat who must walk by himself all places being alike.
Then he bumped into Mary on a summer's day in June.
Across their rumpled bed sheets, Mary sensed his reluctance. She reached out to him. "Please tell me."
He gave her a hard look. Could he really reveal the darkest moments of his life to someone else? Then he knew the answer. Of course he could. They had known each other such a brief time, and yet he trust her implicitly. They had already been through so much. She had been his anchor during the search for the truth about his father.
He could be vulnerable to this woman. And she would not think less of him.
"The ward I was in used morphine to relieve pain. For most of us there was no alternative." Matthew spoke quietly. Mary leaned in to catch each word.
"This was because of your spinal injury? Diana told me your recovery took longer than you let on to me." She noticed his hand shaking.
"It took almost a year. My mother died in that middle period of my recuperation. I had several bouts of infection during the initial months, while I was still incapacitated. It delayed my recovery. I lost weight. The pain was excruciating as my body recovered from the bruising, the atrophied muscles. They kept wanting to give me the morphine. I stopped cold. Because I saw so many others become dependent. They gave it out for everything. I don't blame the doctors. But instead I chose to endure it."
"Endure it?" Mary inquired with concern. "The pain?"
"Yes." He shrugged. "When you sit for such a prolonged period of time in a wheelchair, your muscles atrophy. So when the sensations returned and I was forced to exercise by the physiotherapists it was agony. Every step ached and sharp stinging bursts of pain shot up my legs. I fell down so many times those early months. Collapsed in a heap, yelling out to leave me the hell alone. But they wouldn't let me. And when I refused the shots, they let me find my own way. Eventually it got better. Easier. They found ways to distract my mind from the pain. And the repetitive boredom of therapy. Exercise in gymnasiums..."
"And learning the tango?" Mary remembered.
"Absolutely. That was right near the end as I was being discharged back to service. I had use of a cane by then. And a regimen to follow. The back pain flares up every now and then, but it's manageable with aspirin and such." He didn't really want to have Mary believe he was some kind of invalid.
"I'm one of the lucky ones." He admitted. "Sometimes you think you're one of the dead. The living dead. Left out of life. But then you see men on the street, old soldiers who are so beyond any help they are lost to life."
He shook his head. "I didn't want to leave Rose with people who didn't care about her or really about themselves. They want the oblivion to take over. But that's not living. She has to have the chance to live. To love again. She won't if she stayed around those types."
If it was possible, Mary thought, I love him even more now than ever.
She gripped his hand tight. "Oh Matthew. You are such a good man. But you cannot take up everyone's burdens. I'm so glad you helped Rose. But now she has to go down the next part of her story by herself. She must find her own way. Her own happiness."
Matthew gave her a crooked smile. He nodded.
Mary then sat up and decided she had to reveal her own innermost thoughts. She took a deep breath. "Besides, you'll wear yourself out in being Sir Galahad. And I need you to be well rested."
He creased his brow in confusion.
She smiled and touched her still not showing abdomen.
His eyes grew large. Then worried. He sat forward. "You had the procedure without me? Are you in pain? You should have stayed at home. I should have been with you.."
"No darling you misunderstand. I'm with child. Dr Ryder confirmed it. I did go see him but only because I wanted to be sure in order to tell you. Sybil told me my being sick in the mornings and tired were sure symptoms. She encouraged me to go."
"Mary. I...I..." He stumbled with his words in his happiness. "Oh my love." He leaned forward, reaching out and enfolded Mary completely in his arms. Her body warm and soft against his naked torso. His lips tickled as he grazed the curls of Mary's hair, buried his face in the depths of those long tresses.
"You're going to be such a wonderful mother. I can't wait. Do we need to do anything? We should get you home..."
Mary could tell he was already thinking she was fragile.
"We can stay on here in Paris for awhile. I won't be kept inside like a cosseted invalid. I won't break." She warned teasingly.
"So we can still..." And he his eyes turned seductive and dark.
"I won't survive the next nine months without it." Her breathing shallow as he reached down to release the sheets that hid her naked body from his sight.
XX
Should Mary have forgiven him so easily?
I did my best with the German! :) Thank you so much Junia Grey for your help! ALL mistakes are still mine!
We'll pick up with them in Paris and later York as they tell the family and Matthew deals with Rose...
and new problems emerge as Downton moves into the '20s. Matthew and Mary make decisions on where to live...