Library, Downton Abbey, February 15th, 1922

This was not how Edith had imagined bringing Michael to Downton for the first time.

He managed to calm her down and distract her wonderfully during the long train drive. Even in the car drive from the train station she managed to hold her nerves. But when they entered the library and faced the family, Edith thought that Michael's arm was the only thing holding her upright.

Mama, Granny and Mary were sitting at the sofa and looking at her with expressions varying from disapproval to agitation, Mama and Granny's black clothes adding to the severity of their looks. Matthew was standing by the window and barely looking at her. She had a feeling he had been pacing just a moment ago. She noted with relief that Rose was missing but regretted that Tom wasn't present. Maybe he would be a little bit more understanding.

It was Granny who broke the silence after Edith's rather timid greeting.

"Mary says that you two have something serious to discuss with us, although she did not feel inclined to tell us what," she glared slightly at her eldest granddaughter, who shrugged.

"It was not my secret to tell," she said indifferently.

Edith swallowed and led Michael to sit on the sofa opposite the family. God, it really felt like facing interrogation!

She rallied slightly when Michael squeezed her hand.

"We wanted to tell you that Edith and I love each other and intend to marry," said Michael calmly before she could gather the courage to start.

Granny's eyebrows shot up.

"I fail to see why an engagement should be treated with such solemnity," she said shrewdly.

Michael squeezed Edith's hand again and answered.

"It shouldn't be, but unfortunately our situation is complicated. We cannot marry soon."

"Complicated how?" asked Mama, clearly unwilling to let Granny run the show single-handedly.

Michael looked straight at them. Edith never felt so proud of someone in her life.

"I am married," he said plainly, undaunted by Mama's horrified gasp and Granny's narrowed eyes. "My wife is in lunatic asylum and has been there for years. The doctors pronounced her incurable. She neither does remember nor recognises me in any way. She is not the woman I married."

"And yet she is your wife," answered Matthew from his perch by the window. "You cannot ignore that fact."

Michael clenched his teeth but answered with composure.

"I am not ignoring that fact, I assure you," he took a deep breath. "I cannot divorce Lizzie in England, since the law does not allow to hold a lunatic responsible. However, I found out lunacy is a ground for divorce in Germany. I plan to become a German citizen and divorce her straight afterwards. It will necessarily take time, but I will be free to marry and I fully intend to do exactly that as soon as I am able."

"But what in the meantime?" asked Mama, still looking horrified. "Are you... having an affair?"

"Mama!" exclaimed Edith, blushing furiously in complete mortification. "Of course not! We just... We're just in love."

Suddenly Mary snorted.

"I never took you for a likely candidate for Jane Eyre," she said, and to Edith's astonishment she sounded more amused than scornful.

"Jane Eyre had at least the good sense to refuse Mr Rochester after she learnt he was married," scoffed Violet. "Edith obviously has less scruples about such things."

"Granny!" protested Edith, colouring deeply again. "We haven't done anything! And Michael is working on becoming free."

"I really am, Lady Grantham," said Michael firmly. "And I swear I will not do anything to endanger Lady Edith's honour or reputation."

"Like the way you did at the Criterion yesterday?" asked Matthew pointedly and Edith wished the floor would open under her. She felt so wonderfully daring last night when she told Michael to kiss her despite all those people – but then she did not expect two of those people to be her sister and her brother-in-law.

Michael glared at Matthew but remained unprovoked, even though Edith could tell it took an effort.

"We will be more circumspect. We celebrated the news from my lawyer finally giving us hope of a happy ending and we got carried away, I admit. It won't happen again until I am free to ask Lady Edith for her hand properly."

Matthew's face remained stony and disapproving, but he didn't say anything more, retreating back to the window.

Granny cleared her throat and Edith remembered that they were facing bigger problems than Matthew. He could and would disapprove, however much she had once hoped otherwise, but he wasn't the most ruthless member of the family by half.

"As nice as Mr Gregson's assurances of proper intentions are," Granny said, looking straight at Edith and dismissing Michael completely. "You do realise what you are risking by maintaining this relationship?"

"I do," said Edith, giving Michael's hand a reassuring squeeze of her own. "But I love him. I will wait for him however long it takes."

Edith felt rather offended when Granny and Mary simultaneously raised their eyes heavenward.

"Wait for him by all means," said Granny scathingly, still refusing to acknowledge Michael's presence in front of her. "But do be mindful that if this affair gets out, you will be completely ruined. A social pariah. All doors in London will be shut in your face."

"Not all doors," interjected Michael. "Not everybody is so judgemental when it comes to the matters of the heart."

Granny's glare was so sharp Edith was surprised Michael was not bleeding besides her.

"All doors which matter," she said crisply. "Including ours. You must realise that there is no way we could acknowledge you publicly in case of a scandal of such magnitude. Especially when we are responsible for Rose's coming out."

"Don't worry, Granny," said Edith bravely, "There won't be a scandal. We will be more discreet, and we will marry as soon as Michael is back from Germany."

Granny's look was promising that the discussion was very much not over, but she only nodded, and addressed Michael directly for the very first time.

"Mr Gregson," she said icily. "I think you must hurry if you are to catch your train."

Edith opened her mouth to protest the rudeness of this dismissal, but Michael stood up and bowed his goodbyes.

"Lady Grantham is right," he said, looking at her so intently that Edith felt herself blushing slightly. "I must return to London, but you may call me anytime, at the office or in my flat. And if you need me for anything, just let me know."

Edith nodded, feeling the gaze of her family on her while she was leaving the room to see Michael out.

As soon as they left the library, they both heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"Well, that was intense, wasn't it?" asked Michael with that dear smirk of his and Edith found herself laughing in response.

"That it was!" she said breathlessly. "Thank you, thank you so much for coming here to face them with me. I have no idea how I would fare without you."

"You would have prevailed," said Michael, caressing her cheek. "You were so brave in there. I never thought somebody would love me like you do."

He kissed her briefly, mindful of Carson's presence just behind the corner.

"I never knew I could love as deeply as I love you," he added.

Edith felt her heart soaring.

xxx

The discussion in the library was by no means finished by the departure of the main culprits.

"How could you say that we would cast Edith off?" asked Cora furiously. Violet drank her tea unperturbed.

"What else did I have to threaten her with? She already got her money, most inadvisably as it turns out."

"So you weren't serious?" asked Cora with astonishment.

Violet scoffed.

"Of course not. Edith is family. But if we show even a morsel of leniency, she will jump at him. It's obvious that she is mad about this man."

Matthew cleared his throat uncomfortably, causing Mary to send him an amused look. She felt rather fed up with the topic. She and Matthew had done their duty in reporting Edith's shenanigans to the higher instancy in the family and for her, the matter was closed. Either Edith would persist in making a fool of herself or not, but she was an adult and, whatever Matthew felt about it, not really their responsibility.

Besides, Granny's words, empty threat as it turned out to be, rattled her unpleasantly. She remembered all too well how horrid it had been to live with a threat of scandal over her own head. When she had feared Granny's scorn directed at her.

It did not make her feel much compassion for Edith though. She made one, if grievous, mistake, which she now acknowledged was in big part caused by her youth and naivety. Edith was happily and stubbornly engaged in an affair with a married man.

He died in the arms of a slut.

Well, if she was a slut, what it made Edith?

Mary finished her tea and led a relieved Matthew upstairs to check on George. She was thoroughly fed up with the topic of her sister.

Mary and Matthew's bedroom, February 15th, 1922

Mary could tell that something was troubling Matthew. He kept fidgeting and frowning, as if unable to get comfortable. Finally she got fed up enough to inquire directly.

"What is it?" she asked. "And don't say nothing. Your fidgeting is driving me mad, not to mention prevents me from sleeping."

Matthew sighed but smiled ruefully at her.

"I'm sorry," he said, caressing her cheek in apology, then sighing again. "I just can't stop thinking about Gregson."

Mary rolled her eyes.

"And why do you think it necessary to lose sleep over that sorry affair? You did everything in your power to stop her. If she doesn't listen, the consequences are on her."

"It's not even that," said Matthew slowly. "Although of course I feel concerned about Edith in this situation. But I cannot stop thinking about Gregson's wife."

Mary felt her eyebrows rise in confusion.

"What about her?"

"I do feel for Gregson," answered Matthew slowly. "I cannot imagine how terrible it must be to lose the woman you married to such a cruel affliction. Being married to somebody who does not recognise you anymore and whom you can hardly recognise in turn. And yet, I keep wondering, how he can abandon her like that. Speak of her with such contempt."

Mary was silent for a moment.

"I guess he does not believe she is the same person he married," she ventured cautiously. "Maybe he thinks that his wife did die, in a way, and what is left makes him shackled to her corpse."

Matthew winced at her phrasing but nodded thoughtfully.

"I guess he must. You mentioned Jane Eyre today and I was struck by the similarities as well. Mr Rochester did show similar contempt for his wife."

"He did make a case that it was fuelled by her behaviour from before her illness," pointed out Mary. "Which does not seem to be the case with Gregson."

"That's true. And he also claimed that he would love and take care of Jane if it was she who was insane. But I cannot help wondering..." he went silent.

"You cannot help wondering?" prompted Mary after a while.

"You know, in France..." he hesitated. Mary nearly stopped breathing in anticipation. Matthew nearly never mentioned the war. "So many men went insane. Shell shock, they called it. Sometimes I thought we all had it, just some managed to mask it better than others. How could one live through it, see what we did and not go insane? It sometimes seemed as the most rational response to the insanity around us."

He was silent for another moment. Mary didn't dare to say a word.

"And I wondered," he continued in whisper. "Whether you would have been able to love me still if I was one of them? If my brain turned me into a stranger to you, in its futile attempt to defend itself from the horrors it could not comprehend anymore?"

"I would," Mary answered immediately and fiercely. "I would never stop loving you and hoping that you would come back to me. I had a long time to think about all kinds of things which could befell you there and I am very sure. As long as there was breath in your body, I would not stop hoping."

Matthew exhaled loudly and kissed her. Mary hugged him, clutching at his pyjama's shirt, kissing him back with abandon.

There were no more words that night.