The Library, Downton Abbey, February 1914
If Aunt Rosamund's engagement was met with astonishment, her pregnancy was met with absolute shock.
"At her age! And after so many years with Marmaduke!" exclaimed Robert when he found his voice again.
"And so soon after the wedding," murmured Violet. She had her suspicions about Rosamund's condition at her wedding but decided not to voice them in her son's presence. He was much too excitable about such things, and if her suspicions were true, discretion was advised.
"Carlisle works fast, that for sure," said Robert with a slight tone of distaste. He was still not fully reconciled to calling the man his brother-in-law.
"It must be a wonderful surprise for Rosamund," gushed Cora. "I know she has always yearned for children of her own. It was such a pity that she and Marmaduke never had any. She must be overjoyed now."
"Of course she must be!" agreed Sybil. She did always feel sorry for lonely Aunt Rosamund and she was genuinely glad for her remarriage and now pregnancy. "Hopefully Mary and Edith will have their own babies soon as well! I can't wait to see them crawling over the floor here together."
The Dowager sent her a quelling look.
"I do hope you mean the floor in the nursery, my dear. Those carpets are rather too expensive for baby spittle, you know."
Sybil shrugged, undaunted.
"It doesn't matter where exactly, I am just excited for the prospect of babies. I do adore them."
"I just hope they won't be fighting so much as Mary and Edith did," sighed Cora, but with a smile. She was also imagining her future grandchildren visiting her soon. She was so glad both her older girls settled so near her!
Cora and Robert's 24th Anniversary Dinner, Dining room, Downton Abbey, February 1914
"I heard that Lady Rosamund is to be congratulated?" said Lady Shackleton to her friend the Dowager Countess of Grantham.
"News travel fast," was her reluctantly given answer. "But it is, indeed, true. She is expecting a child in the autumn."
"After so many years with Marmaduke! And so soon after her wedding!"
"It seems to be the summary of most of the comments on the matter," pointed out Violet dryly.
"I rather expected such news from Lady Mary or Lady Edith, to be honest. I am all astonishment."
Violet did not roll her eyes, but she did raise them briefly heavenwards.
"Mary had been married barely four months and Edith two, Prudence. They will probably have their own happy announcements soon."
"Lady Mary probably so, which is good because I can just imagine how much everyone is wishing for an heir from her. Terrible pressure, for sure. But as for Lady Edith, I just hope the Strallans' troubles were poor Maud's fault. It would be terrible for her if it was caused by Sir Anthony."
Violet sent her a quenching look. What a conversation for a formal dinner! Prudence was occasionally entertaining, but definitely not the most decorous or sensible of her friends.
"And how are your dear nephews, Prudence?" she asked pointedly.
Fortunately, Lady Shackleton was an unashamedly proud aunt.
"Why, very well! Peter is engaged to Miss Rosalind Webster – I think you might have met her at the Thompsons' party last Season – a very good match. She is not titled, but her family is gentry and has been settled in a very nice estate in Surrey for well over a hundred years. Her mother came from money, which is good too, since you know William is not able to give them much at the moment."
"You will have to convey my congratulations. And Henry?"
Lady Shackleton beamed.
"He got into racing cars! Such a dashing young man. If only his prospects were a little better, I would love one of your granddaughters for him."
"Hmph," Violet harumphed noncommittedly. As if she ever would throw one of them on Henry Talbot! Prudence was blinded by her fondness for her favourite if she seriously thought a penniless car racer was good enough for a daughter of the Earl of Grantham!
xxx
Edith was the happiest she had ever remembered being.
She and Anthony were sitting among Mama and Papa's guests in all the glory of a recently married couple, fresh from their honeymoon. Which had been magical. Anthony was so loving and solicitous of her, so gentle and caring – she was absolutely basking in feeling the centre of his world. Italy was so beautiful, even in winter, and so full of wonders, which Anthony, really surprisingly knowledgeable, was delighted to introduce her to. She felt proud to be his wife and so looking forward to the Season and having more opportunities to use her new calling cards with Lady Edith Strallan engraved on them.
The only thing she felt able to feel jealous of was Aunt Rosamund's news. If only she could be pregnant, her happiness would have been complete. She knew she was too impatient, really - she only came back from her honeymoon! Pregnancy was bound to follow soon. But she just could not wait!
At least Mary had no announcement of her own yet either, thought Edith, looking at her sister, resplendent in some new Parisian gown and a diamond tiara, and amended her earlier conclusion.
If only she could be pregnant before Mary, her happiness would have been complete.
xxx
As it happened, Mary paid no attention to her middle sister. She was mostly annoyed by the rules of a formal dinner party which dictated that she could not be seated next to her husband. At least Mama had the good sense to seat them opposite each other, so they could exchange looks over the table. Which they did. A lot.
In fact, Matthew was eyeing her in such a manner that she felt a blush climbing up her face. She glared at him chidingly but was afraid he could tell it was half-hearted at best.
Judging from his smirk, he did.
She fervently wished for the evening to end so she could drag him upstairs to the green guest bedroom they claimed as theirs for any overnight visits at the Abbey and punish him thoroughly for making her so discomfited.
Matthew's raised eyebrow and hooded eyes conveyed clearly that he was looking forward to it as much as she did.
Carlisle House, Upper Grosvenor Street, London, February 1914
It was really strange to be again in Richard's house, but instead of visiting it as his reluctant fiancée coming there to have tea with her aunt.
"It's really an impressive place," Mary said sincerely to Aunt Rosamund, looking around the opulent sitting room. Well, it certainly was that.
"A bit too garish, but I'm going to tone it down gradually," answered her aunt cheerfully. "I don't want Richard to think I find it completely nouveau riche, so I have to proceed with some delicacy. To be honest, I was worried it might be worse. Thankfully, he hired a really good architect."
In face of her aunt's honesty, Mary allowed herself a smirk.
"You're good with him," she noted. "Much better than I would have been."
"Oh, I think you would manage," said Rosamund dismissively. "You would be magnificent with such resources as he has for his wife to enjoy. But I have to remind you, he's not the first rough diamond I'm attempting to polish."
"Was Uncle Marmaduke similar? I remember him as quite the gentleman."
"Oh, he was by the end. But there is a reason Mama is still unhappy I married him, even though he got knighted soon after our marriage."
Mary looked at her aunt with curiosity. She never really thought about her as a rebel. Before she could investigate that line of thought further, Rosamund jumped to another topic.
"I invited you here to talk about Painswick House, actually. Are you and Matthew still interested in renting it?"
Mary sighed.
"I am," she said with exasperation. "He thinks we should rather search in Kensington. Or by Regent's Park."
Rosamund winced.
"Kensington is a possibility I guess, but it would look much better if you could settle in Belgravia."
"I agree, but Matthew does have a point about living within our means," Mary answered dryly. "I think we could afford it, but he is much more careful with the money than I am. And of course, he doesn't put the same value on respectability of the address as I do. He focuses more on the house's comfort, which of course is an important point as well."
"I hardly think he can object to the comfort of Painswick House," observed Rosamund in equally dry tone. Mary laughed.
"He complains it's too big for just the two of us."
Daughters of Downton Abbey and Grantham House shared an understanding smile over such folly.
"I never found it so and I lived there alone for years. Still," Rosamund's tone turned business-like. "I cannot imagine better tenants than you. I am attached to that house; I don't want to rent it to strangers. What would you say if I offered it to you for that sum?"
Mary's eyes went a bit wide when she heard the number. She did her research about cost of renting a house in different London neighbourhoods.
"It's significantly below the market level," she pointed out carefully. Rosamund scoffed.
"Of course it is," she answered curtly. "But Marmaduke left me rich and Richard is also rich and only getting richer. I don't need the income from the rent. What I need is my niece established as high as possible. I and Richard have money enough; what he is lacking are connexions in proper society. That's the main reason he married me. But the better my family is situated, the better advantage for his advancement to the best circles. You would be doing me a favour by increasing your social profile. Matthew is only a solicitor at present, but he is the future Earl of Grantham, and I would like to be able to remind people of that."
Mary bit her lip. On one hand, she hated being means for Richard's social climbing, even in the smallest way. On the other hand, she did share her aunt's assessment of the importance of external trappings of one's position. Matthew was right, strictly speaking, about them not needing a mansion in Belgravia, but they could afford the rent proposed by Aunt Rosamund... And what was more important, she could afford it herself. She looked straight into expectant eyes of her aunt.
"Matthew put me in charge of any income coming from my settlement. He said it should be my money, whatever the law says about it. I can pay you out of those funds alone."
Rosamund smiled slowly.
"Then I guess we have a deal?"
Mary smiled back.
"Most likely. But I have to discuss it with Matthew first."
Rosamund laughed.
"I will leave it to you how to convince him best. But I fully expect you to take possession of the house before the season."
Painswick House, Eaton Square, London, April 1914
Matthew looked around the marble hall and shook his head ruefully.
Simple and modest it was not.
He then looked at his wife, directing movers and servants with military precision and a delighted smile on her face and decided the compromise was worth it. The house made her happy and, due to her aunt's generosity, was within their budget. It was beautiful and elegant, and modern enough to have newest amenities in bathrooms and the kitchen. It even had gas heating, a telephone in the hallway and in the study, and electricity in every room. He definitely could imagine worse places to live.
He went to inspect the study and the library – the rooms where he predicted he was going to spend most of his time while in London, considering that he was chiefly intending to come here for work. He was glad to discover that they were obviously designed more for comfort than showing off. He sent a warm thought to the spirit of Sir Marmaduke Painswick, who was probably behind it.
Searching for Mary, he walked upstairs and found her evaluating a bright, sunny room with the garden view.
"I was thinking we could make it into the nursery," she said, smiling at him. "It has plenty of light and space and is less noisy than the rooms facing the street. What do you think?"
He couldn't resist embracing her and placing a quick kiss on her lips before answering.
"I think it's perfect," he said contentedly. "I cannot wait to use it as such."
Yes, he was expecting to be quite happy in their London home.
Dr Ryder's office, London, April 1914
Mary sat stiffly, clutching her purse desperately, and waited for Dr Ryder to finish washing his hands after examining her.
She never expected to need his services again. What had happened before, what caused the need for her operation – it had not happened here. But when month after month there was no sign of pregnancy, she started to grow nervous. It was still early, just six months since their wedding, too early really to suspect any trouble – but she just couldn't stand the uncertainty anymore. She wanted to hear from Dr Ryder that everything was alright and she just needed to be patient. It would ease her mind.
Except the doctor sat behind his desk and was looking at her seriously.
"Lady Mary, I am afraid I don't have good news. It seems your concerns, although rather premature for worrying normally, were not unjustified."
Mary swallowed, feeling as if she was falling.
"What's wrong with me, doctor?"
"There seems to be extensive, although quite old, scarring on the walls of your womb. It most likely covers the entrances to your fallopian tubes and prevents the conception. It might also make the attachment of the fertilised egg to your womb more difficult, if conception did occur, causing an early miscarriage."
Mary felt her eyes go wide. She had heard this very diagnosis before, but how could it be possible?!
"What could have caused it?" she asked, noticing that her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Most common reason is some kind of venereal disease," said Doctor Ryder bluntly. "Most often as a result of husband's indiscretions, either before or during the marriage."
No, it was impossible!
"My husband would never behave like that!" protested Mary. She knew he wouldn't have. He came to their marriage bed completely inexperienced. She knew that in previous timeline even the war had not changed his principles; that he had never used any services of this kind in Paris or near the front lines, even though so many of his fellow soldiers had. It was simply impossible.
Doctor Ryder looked politely sceptical but did not insist.
"Then I have to ask, were you ever intimate with another man?"
This was the question which seemed to offer the best explanation last time. She harboured no doubts that Mr Pamuk had been engaged in multiple kinds of liaisons; he had told her himself she was not his first. It had been perfectly reasonable that he had infected her with something; adding final insult to all other kinds of injuries he had caused her. She had never been able to confess it to Matthew, she had let him believe she had been just embarrassed by the topic – and she had been, but the real reason she had kept it all quiet had been overwhelming shame. It had been all her fault. She truly and literally had been damaged goods. Her mother had been right.
Except, maybe she hadn't. At least not due to that fateful night with Mr Pamuk.
"No, never," she told Doctor Ryder. "Neither of us ever has done anything with anybody else."
The doctor pursued his lips thoughtfully.
"I wanted to insist that you must unfortunately consider the possibility that your husband has not been completely truthful with you about his experiences – it's common enough – but you did say you have only been married for six months, yes?"
Mary nodded.
"The scarring I observed looked older. It is very unlikely the infection which caused it happened so recently. Tell me, have you ever experienced significant pain in your lower abdomen? Maybe with fever as well?"
Mary clutched her purse harder.
"Yes," she answered. "When I was sixteen. I was sick for two weeks, it hurt terribly, and I did have quite high fever. Everybody was very worried. Our doctor said it was bladder infection."
"And it might have been, but the scarring I observed indicates you suffered from pelvic inflammatory disease. It is most commonly caused by a venereal disease, but it can and does happen to women who have not been yet sexually active. Since you say you were not intimate before your marriage and since the apparent age of the scaring predates it, it must have been so in your case."
Mary felt as if she couldn't breathe.
Was it possible? Was it really not her fault? Was she really just unlucky, getting sick by total accident? Her more recent interaction with Pamuk showed her that he was determined to have her, whatever her opinion on the matter or however little encouragement she had given him. She was starting to acknowledge how little choice in the matter she really had and how awfully he had manipulated her to get what he wanted. But she could not get over years of shame and blame she had been living with. To hear now that at least her fertility problems, their fertility problems, were not her fault, was nearly more than she could take.
"Can something be done about it?" she asked and sat straighter when Doctor Ryder delved into an explanation.
Drawing room, Eryholme, April 1914
She found Matthew relaxing with a book in one of the comfy armchairs in their bright drawing room. She hated disrupting his peace, but she felt she could not wait any longer.
"Matthew, I have to talk with you about something."
Matthew looked at her in evident concern, taking in her shaking hands.
"What is it, darling?"
Mary took a deep breath and sat on the sofa next to him.
"I must confess something to you. When we were in London last, I didn't only go shopping. I also visited a doctor."
Matthew's eyes widened.
"Are you unwell?"
"No! Well, not exactly," Mary hurried to explain and calm him down, but she saw she wasn't doing a good job of it. "It was a fertility specialist, you see."
Matthew looked relieved, but then frowned slightly.
"Darling, it hasn't been so long since we are married. I am sure everything is well and we just have to be patient."
"But that's the thing, everything is not well. In fact, it is me," Mary swallowed. "It seems I need a small operation."
"What?!" Matthew cried out in alarm, grabbing her hands in his.
"It seems I have some scarring which is preventing... conception."
Oh goodness, it was so awfully hard to talk about such matters!
Matthew blanched.
"Scarring? Have I hurt you somehow?"
"No, no! Never!" she put her hand against his cheek to calm him down. "It's a result of an illness I had as an adolescent. I had horrible pain in my lower abdomen then, it was apparently a pelvic infection. Quite scared everybody when it was happening, but I seemed to have recovered without issue. But Doctor Ryder checked me now and it seems this illness left internal scarring which needs to be removed if we are to have a child."
Matthew swallowed.
"How serious is such procedure?"
"He assures me that is not very serious at all. I shouldn't travel for a day or two afterwards, and there might be some pain and bleeding," lots of pain and bleeding, actually, she remembered grimly. "And we wouldn't be allowed to make love for few weeks until everything is healed, but that's it. He says that if the operation is successful and he has every hope it would be, I should get pregnant within six months."
"And we have no chance of it without you undergoing this operation?"
Mary shook her head. "He doesn't think it likely, no. He said the scarring is too extensive and even if by some miracle I did conceive, it would have likely ended up in miscarriage."
She looked at Matthew trying to think it through. After a moment, he looked at her seriously.
"Do you want to go through with it?"
"Of course I do," she said, shocked at his question. "Don't you want to have children?"
"Of course I do," answered Matthew thickly. "But I worry about you more. If you don't want to risk such an operation, it's alright with me. You're more important to me than hypothetical children."
Mary stared at him, awed. She knew how much he wanted children, in both realities. He had always wanted to be a father. She remembered him in those precious moments with George. To hear now that he was willing to sacrifice this dream for her, to spare her pain and risk which were really quite small, it brought tears to her eyes.
"I do want to do it," she assured him. "In fact, I was considering doing it straight away and telling you after I knew it has worked, but I selfishly wanted your support during recovery."
Matthew's expression grew thunderous, and his hands tightened over hers.
"Thank God then that you changed your mind! How could you consider hiding something like that from me?!"
Mary dropped her eyes. He had forgiven her in another timeline, but the circumstances had been different. They both had been keeping secrets from each other, trying to hide their fears and find a solution to their shared problem singlehandedly. She had been so ashamed of the supposed reason for her fertility problems, so afraid to bring it up and remind Matthew what she had done. It was all different now and she was determined to do better, to make their relationship better, but it was hard to get over her hard learned patterns.
"I wanted to spare you the worry," she admitted weakly. Matthew stared at her incredulously.
"And how it would spare me the worry if anything went wrong and you would suffer some complications due to an operation I knew nothing about?"
"There won't be any complications, it's really a straightforward procedure," protested Mary. "And anyway, it was just a thought, I am telling you now after all."
It seemed the right thing to say, because Matthew calmed down visibly, although he was still looking at her with concern.
"I'm glad, darling. I'm so glad you didn't do it in secret. If you're sure you want to do it, when would it be?"
"Doctor Ryder has time for me next Monday. We could go to London on Sunday and go to his office in the morning."
"His office? Not the hospital?"
Mary shook her head.
"He has fully equipped operation room there and hires nurses. I would have to spend the rest of the day there, to check for any possible complications from the procedure or from ether, but I should be able to return to our house by evening. I would most likely spend another day or two in bed before I could stand the train travel back to Yorkshire. I guess it would give you some time to catch up with Jack or meet some clients."
"I would most definitely not," said Matthew, his tone again incredulous. "I'm going to stay with you. How could you think I would be anywhere else but by your side when you are recovering from a surgery?"
Mary looked at him fondly and a bit exasperated.
"Thank you, I appreciate it. But it really is very minor."
"I don't care, I will be there with you every step of the way," said Matthew firmly, jutting out his chin.
Painswick House, London, April 1914
Mary stood in front of the floor length mirror, her gaze focused not on her image, but on the little toy squished in her hand.
She hardly noticed Matthew's approach until she heard him asking:
"What do you have there?"
She startled a bit at the question.
"It's my lucky charm. I had it always. I just thought it might be good to take him with me today," she raised her eyes to Matthew, smiling a bit in embarrassment. "You will think me very silly, of course."
Matthew's eyes were gentle when he took her hand and closed her fingers more tightly around the toy.
"Of course I do not think you silly. You are the most intelligent and the bravest person I know. We all need something to help us focus during difficult moments."
Doctor Ryder's office, London, April 1914
Matthew was sitting in a green leather armchair in the opulent waiting room, trying to pretend he was remaining calm. He gave up on actually remaining calm as hopeless long ago.
For a moment he wished he took up Mother's offer to keep him company. Mary at first balked at telling Isobel about her planned operation but relented when she realised that talking it over with her might be comforting for Matthew. He did feel rather ashamed that she was concerned about him needing comfort when it was she who had to undergo actual surgery, but he still appreciated it. And Mother was helpful. She really reassured Matthew that Mary's operation was a pretty standard and safe procedure and that when performed by such a specialist as Doctor Ryder carried very little risk. She was sad that they were dealing with such difficulties but praised Mary for seeking consultation so promptly and dealing with the problem directly. She then offered to accompany them to London and nurse Mary during the first days of recovery, but Matthew could see that the prospect was making Mary uncomfortable and gently declined.
He regretted it a bit now, facing the wait by himself.
Finally, the door opened and Doctor Ryder emerged.
"Mr Crawley? I'm pleased to say that the operation is finished and seems to have been successful. We still have to wait for Lady Mary to wake up from ether, but her breathing and pulse remain fine, so there is very little cause for concern."
Matthew breathed a relieved sigh.
"May I join her?" he asked anxiously.
"Certainly. The nurses are just getting her comfortable. I will come within the hour to check on her progress, but do not hesitate to send a nurse for me if anything gives you any cause for alarm."
Matthew shook the doctor's hand and hurried into the recovery room. The sight of Mary, lying in bed covered by light blanket was somehow both reassuring and alarming. He saw her asleep so many times and yet now there was some unnatural stillness about her or maybe it was the way she was laid out on her back, with her legs and arms straight when normally she preferred to rest on her side. But she was breathing peacefully and there was some colour in her cheeks, so Matthew settled himself in a chair by her side and took her hand in his.
It took half an hour or so before he noticed her starting to stir and her eyelids fluttering.
"Are you awake, my darling?" he asked quietly, squeezing her hand. She blinked at him sluggishly.
"Matthew?" she asked groggily. "Where are we?"
"We are at the recovery room of Doctor Ryder's clinic. You just had your operation. Doctor Ryder said that everything went well and you are quite safe. He should come to check on you soon," he hastened to reassure her, seeing she was clearly still confused from anaesthesia.
Mary blinked slowly.
"But what are you doing here? I didn't tell you I was having this operation. I was too ashamed..." her voice trailed off, her brows frowning as if she was trying to puzzle something out.
"You were briefly thinking about hiding it from me, but thankfully you changed your mind. And you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of."
"You were always too understanding by half," she muttered, closing her eyes again. "I have plenty to be ashamed of."
"Nothing I'm aware of," he said firmly, caressing her cheek. He heard her sigh, her eyes remaining closed.
"I just hope it worked. I want to see George soon."
"George?" he asked, puzzled, and watched a trembling smile appear on her pale face.
"Our son. He is so beautiful," she said wistfully. His heart skipped a beat.
"You must have had a lovely dream when you were under," he said, striving for a smile. "But I cannot wait to meet George either. I expect he must look beautiful, with you as his mother."
"Oh, he looks like a miniature of you!" she exclaimed, opening her eyes and looking at him earnestly. "He has your eyes, and your hair, and your sweet expression. He is completely adorable and everyone loves him."
She frowned again, looking suddenly sad.
"I just wish you could see how adorable he is."
"I will," said Matthew, caressing Mary's face again to calm her down. "I am sure I will one day. Doctor Ryder says it shouldn't take long now. We just need to be a little more patient."
"I just can't wait," muttered Mary, sounding more and more sleepy. "But you won't be allowed to drive from the hospital. I'm going to chain you to my bed until I can go with you."
He chuckled at the image, petting her hair to settle her to sleep.
"As if I ever wanted to leave your side," he whispered fondly and kissed her brow gently.
Master bedroom, Painswick House, April 1914
"How do you feel?" asked Matthew, bringing her a cup of tea from the tray Anna prepared.
Mary winced.
"I felt better," she said curtly. Her whole lower body was achy and tense, with periodic cramps sending jolts of pain through her. "But it's getting better."
It was getting better. A very, very little better, but better.
Matthew's look conveyed his scepticism of her level of honesty, but he just handed her the cup, careful not to spill it on the blankets.
"You're sure you don't have to do something in the office?" asked Mary, accepting the tea gratefully. She had very little appetite, but the tea was just the thing.
Matthew settled in the armchair by the bed and shook his head.
"There is no place I am more needed than here," he said firmly. Mary rolled her eyes. She enjoyed his presence – and his coddling, even though she would deny it vehemently – immensely, but she didn't really need him. She had done it alone before and she had been just fine.
Even if it was much nicer to have such excellent company during recovery.
"I am just resting in bed for a bit and have to only ring for Anna if I need anything. You may go somewhere else if you want or need to. I'll be perfectly alright."
"But I don't want or need to go anywhere else," answered Matthew stubbornly. "My place is here with you until you are completely recovered, and I am not leaving you."
Suddenly, he smiled charmingly.
"Besides," he added, "I much prefer your company to that of the politicians I had displeasure of meeting with most recently. You are much smarter and unquestionably prettier than any of them."
Mary gave in. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted him to go away.
"If you like my company so much, do you think we could go to the Continent for few weeks when Doctor Ryder confirms everything is all right?" she asked, sending him a sultry look. "We could... celebrate."
"Celebrate," Matthew said slowly, his eyes darkening. "I think we would have a cause to celebrate indeed."
Mary nodded, supressing a wince as another cramp twisted her insides. Judging from Matthew's concerned look, she was not entirely successful.
"I have very fond memories of our honeymoon," she said to distract him. "I wouldn't mind making some more."
"Neither would I," admitted Matthew, caressing her face gently. "Neither would I."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Next chapter requires extensive rewriting, since I changed my mind about some important plot points, so it might take a bit longer to update - most likely I should have it ready after Christmas.