AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the first of what is probably going to be a collection of character and relationship studies - basically portions of my headcanon regarding different characters from Downton Abbey which I then may refer in my fanfics, but which don't fit within any given story as a whole scene. In this one, I focus on Cora's relationship with Mary, mostly before the series, although I use several scenes from canon as well.
"It's a girl," announced the young Scottish doctor and Cora felt the weight of collective disappointment of everybody's expectations fall on her like a tonne of bricks. "Well done, Lady Downton."
Well, at least one person thought so, she thought wryly, as she opened her arms to accept the squirming baby.
She looked down at the huge dark eyes and immediately fell in love.
Her daughter was the most beautiful baby she had ever seen.
"Well, if you couldn't have a boy, at least you have a pretty girl," commented her mother-in-law acerbically, but for once Cora was too distracted to pay any attention to her formidable presence. "We should be able to make something out of her."
"Of course we will," said Cora, tracing her baby's delicate face with her fingertip and loving her so much she thought her heart would burst any minute. "She will be magnificent. Look how utterly perfect she is."
xxx
If Mary was a disappointment, Edith was doubly so.
"At least Mary is pretty and healthy," summed it up Violet with exasperation and it seemed to be a common sentiment.
Cora wanted to disagree and defend her newest baby – she really, really did – but Edith was colicky and crying for hours on end, refusing to be comforted by any amount of cuddling, carrying or singing, and it was easier to just leave her to the nanny to deal with while she played with Mary, more lovely and precocious with every passing day.
Not that Cora had so much time to play with Mary either, with all her social duties and engagements, but she did spend more than the hour after tea with her daughters which Violet of course found excessive.
"Children shouldn't be really seen outside of the nursery until they learn how to behave," she remarked, wincing painfully as Edith started wailing loudly once again.
"Baby loud," agreed two year old Mary, looking at her sister with a perfect replica of disdain on her grandmother's face, the similarity between them so uncanny that Robert couldn't contain his laughter at the sight.
"Babies are loud," he agreed benevolently, ruffling Mary's dark curls. "You were also loud when you were younger."
"Was not!" protested Mary immediately, looking at her Granny in search of confirmation.
"You weren't as loud as Edith is," agreed Violet with another painful wince. "Must we really be exposed to all this wailing? It can't be good for digestion."
Cora sighed with defeat and hidden relief and handed unconsolable Edith back to nanny.
xxx
"Don't yell like this, young lady. Do you want people to think you are an American? Because the English do not behave with such wild emotionality."
"She's a child, Mama," said Cora with exasperation, kneeling down to embrace the still hiccuping girl. "She's four years old."
"Then she is old enough to know that she must behave better if she is ever allowed outside the nursery," said Violet firmly. She looked at Mary sternly. "I expect better of you, Mary. Your mother might be an American, but you're not. You're the eldest daughter of a viscount, granddaughter of an earl, and you must behave accordingly. I know you're smart enough to understand it."
Cora sighed silently as she hugged her poor little daughter closer and wiped off her tears. She would have given up her whole fortune to live anywhere else than with her mother-in-law.
xxx
"This is your great grandfather, the 5th Earl of Grantham," said Violet, pointing out a portrait to Mary. "And see there? This is the coat of arms of his wife. She was Lady Anne Spencer, the eldest daughter of Earl Spencer, before she married him and became the Countess of Grantham."
"And this one is yours, isn't it?" asked Mary, pointing at another coat of arms painted in the Great Hall.
"Yes," confirmed Violet proudly. "I am a daughter of Sir Frederick Wentworth, a baronet, and this is my family's coat of arms."
"And where is Mama's?" asked Mary eagerly.
"There isn't one," scoffed Violet. "Americans don't have them. We would have to paint a dollar sign there instead."
xxx
If Cora thought things would get easier after Edith outgrew her colic, she was very much mistaken.
"They fight like rats in the barrel," she told Robert in utter exasperation after yet another altercation in the nursery. "Nanny Elton looked like she was going to give her notice today."
"All siblings fight," dismissed Robert, but sighed as well when he lay down next to her on the bed. "You should have seen me and Rosamund when we were children."
"I can well imagine," commented Cora dryly, thinking that Robert had probably had no chance against his vicious and cunning sister. Rather like Edith against Mary, really, although God knew she did try.
"Didn't you fight with Harold?" asked Robert curiously and Cora shook her head.
"No, not really. We were too far apart in age and none of us is confrontational when it comes to it. We mostly stayed out of each other's way. I've always wished for a sister, like in 'Little Women'. When Edith was born, I hoped that she and Mary would have a bond like that, but instead…" she smiled wryly at her naivety.
As in response, a sudden screaming from the nursery got them out of bed in alarm. It seemed more urgent than the usual ruckus reaching them from the upper floor.
"What on Earth?" muttered Robert anxiously, throwing a robe over his nightgown as they ran upstairs in a panic. The blood curdling screaming continued unabated.
They burst into the nursery and stopped dead at the sight in front of them.
Edith was standing on the window seat, screaming her head off and pointing in terror at her bed, as Nanny Elton unsuccessfully tried to calm her down. Mary was sitting on her bed, her arms crossed and a triumphant, grim look on her face.
On Edith's pillow, in place of her usual teddy bear, laid a big, bloody and very dead rat.
"Edith!" yelled Robert and thank heavens the shock of it was enough to make Edith stop screaming for a moment. "What is that all about?"
"R-r-rat!" she sobbed, allowing Nanny Elton to put her down from the window seat and running into Cora's arms. "I wanted to hug Teddy and it was a r-r-rat!"
"Oh my darling, how awful for you," crooned Cora, looking suspiciously at her eldest daughter who looked much too pleased by the commotion to be entirely innocent. "How could it end up in your bed?"
Nanny Elton threw her hands.
"It was definitely not there when I got them to sleep," she said sternly. "I was in the day nursery, tidying up, when Miss Edith started screaming and I found it like that."
"Mary?" asked Robert sternly, earning himself a defiant look from his daughter.
"I did it," she admitted candidly. "Because Edith stole my toy dog and she refused to give it back. So I took away her teddy and gave her a rat instead, to make her give Cerberus back and to teach her not to touch my things."
"How did you even get this rat?" asked Robert, gingerly lifting the disgusting carcass from Edith's pillow. Edith shrieked again and hid her face in Cora's robe.
"Carson told me that they were hunting rats in the stables," explained Mary offhandedly. "So I gave one of the stable boys a sixpence to give me one before supper. I brought it here and hid it under Edith's bed until she fell asleep and I could sweep it for her teddy."
Cora stared at her in horror as Edith's sobs got louder.
"Mary, apologise to your sister immediately!" said Robert sternly, still holding the rat as if unsure what to do with it. Nanny Elton came over with a basin and he threw it in gratefully. She hastened out to dispose of it, probably happy to leave Cora and Robert to deal with their children.
Mary's chin rose stubbornly into the air.
"Not until she gives Cerberus back and apologises for taking and hiding it," she said firmly. "She started it."
"I did not!" protested Edith. "I only took him because you didn't allow me to play with him!"
"Because he is mine!" quarrelled Mary immediately, glaring at her sister. "You're not supposed to touch my things! What have you done with him?"
Edith's glare equaled Mary's.
"I'm not telling you," she spat. "And you will never find him again!"
Mary's glare grew murderous.
"Then have fun sleeping with rats!" she cried. "I can always get more of them!"
Edith burst into renewed sobbing as Cora and Robert looked at each other in hopeless exasperation.
"Edith," said Robert finally. "What have you done with Mary's dog?"
Edith looked like she wanted to refuse divulging this information, but caved in under her father's stern gaze.
"I threw it out of the window," she admitted. "I'm not sure where it fell."
Mary jumped off her bed and Robert caught her before she either could attack her sister or run out into the dark garden to search for her toy.
"I will have Carson search for it," he promised. "Now, neither of you behaved like a young lady should. Edith, you shouldn't have taken away Mary's dog. Mary, I have no words. You should have asked Nanny Elton or one of us to make Edith give you the dog back, not take the revenge into your hands like this. You're not allowed to ride your pony for a week."
Mary looked like she very much wanted to protest this punishment, but in the end nodded reluctantly.
"But she'd better not touch my things again," she muttered, glaring at her sister resentfully.
"Edit can't sleep in this bed tonight, the bedding needs to be changed," sighed Cora. "Come, darling, you may sleep in Papa's dressing room tonight."
When she and Robert finally collapsed back into their bed, she put her hands on her protruding stomach.
"Do you think this one is going to be like that too?" she groaned, making Robert cover his face with his arm in response.
"God, I hope not!" he prayed fervently. "Or I'm going to go grey before my father does!"
xxx
As it turned out, they shouldn't have worried. Everybody agreed that Sybil was the loveliest, sweetest baby ever to exist, including both of her sisters.
Violet commented dryly that it must be the first thing they had ever agreed on.
It was of course a disappointment – again – that she was not the son and heir everybody was waiting for, but it did not seem to matter much when within days of giving birth to her Cora fell ill with the childbirth fever.
For nearly two weeks it was touch and go, with very little assurance that she was going to get out of it alive. Robert barely left her side as she tossed and turned in pain and delirium, and even Violet, never Cora's champion, was worried enough to visit her in her sickroom, put her hand in comfort on Robert's arm and utter a prayer or two when nobody could see.
To everyone's relief, Cora did pull through, but Doctor Clarkson looked uncharacteristically grim while giving them the news that she was out of danger.
"Lady Downton will live," he said heavily. "But the illness is not without its effects. She is unlikely to carry another child."
"Unlikely…" said Robert, completely stunned. "But it's not impossible, is it?"
The doctor's look was full of pessimism.
"Not impossible," he finally admitted. "But extremely unlikely."
Lord Grantham shook his head in disappointment, Lady Grantham pursed her mouth unhappily and Lord Downton looked at him as if he could hardly comprehend what he meant.
Upstairs, in the nursery, his third daughter cried.
xxx
Cora did not know if she was more enamoured with Sybil because she was her loveliest baby or because of the knowledge that she was to be her last one. What she knew, however, was that she didn't want to leave her out of her sight.
"You're going to spoil this child rotten," said Violet in her usual critical tone when Cora cooed to her baby as she was laying in a Moses' basket next to her in the drawing room. "You didn't used to be so silly with Mary or Edith."
"No, I didn't," agreed Cora placidly. "And maybe that was my biggest mistake with them."
xxx
Cora and Violet were sitting on the wicker chairs under a white canopy, with Edith playing quietly by Cora's feet and Mary practising riding her pony on the grounds in front of them. Cora's heart nearly stopped when she watched her jump over a low hedge.
"She's fearless," said Violet admiringly and smiled proudly at the waving girl. "A true Crawley."
"I would prefer if she was a bit less," said Cora nervously, as Mary turned her pony around to take the obstacle again. "She may fall and hurt herself. She's too young for such things."
"Just because you've never learnt to ride doesn't mean she can't," said Violet dismissively. "Would you prefer her to be afraid of her own shadow like Edith is?"
Cora felt herself blush in indignation and she bent slightly to pet the light locks of her younger daughter, who shrunk into her legs at her grandmother's dismissal of her.
"At least Edith is careful," she muttered defensively. "I don't have to be afraid for her life."
Violet rolled her eyes as Mary successfully jumped over the hedge again.
"Always so melodramatic," she said with a long-suffering sigh. "Mary is going to be perfectly fine."
xxx
"Why are you crying, Mama?"
"Oh," said Cora, wiping her eyes hastily. "I just miss your father so very much, my darling. I would love for him to come home."
"Me too," said Mary sadly and, after some hesitation, put her small hand on Cora's arm in a rare gesture of affection. "I hate that he is fighting on the other side of the world. Why can't he come home?"
"He's in the Army," explained Cora, putting herself together with effort. "He can't come home until the war is over."
Mary's dark brows frowned.
"But why is he in the Army in the first place? He's going to be an earl, he doesn't need a profession."
Cora sighed. To be perfectly honest, she couldn't understand it herself.
"He felt it was his duty to his King and his country," she explained, repeating Robert's words without conviction. "He didn't want to leave us, but he felt that he had to. He is a hero, darling."
Mary's frown deepened.
"But what if he doesn't come back?" she asked in a small voice. "Soldiers often die."
Cora lost her breath for a moment.
"He will come back," she said fiercely. "We will all pray for him every night and he will come back when it's all over."
Mary's dark eyes focused on her in an unsettling way.
"Don't other soldiers' families pray for them too?"
For a moment, Cora found herself completely lost for words. Why was she the one left to answer her child's all too reasonable questions? Questions which just didn't have a good answer?
"I suppose they do," she admitted. "But we must keep faith that our prayers will be listened to and your father will be alright. We can't let ourselves despair."
Mary looked at her critically.
"Then why were you crying?"
Cora exhaled loudly, overwhelmed by the whole conversation and the crushing weight of Robert's absence and continuous danger.
"Because I miss him!" she snapped, regretting it instantly when Mary recoiled from her. She immediately reached to hug her, but Mary felt stiff and reluctant in her arms. "Don't you cry sometimes when you do?"
"No," answered Mary stubbornly, sliding out of her embrace. "But I am not American like you are."
"Don't the English ever cry?" asked Cora, part in exasperation, part in amusement.
"Not if they can help it," answered Mary seriously. "Granny says so."
xxx
"You may go back to America for however long you like, but you can't take the girls with you," said Violet, her eyes flashing. "This is their home and where they belong. You have no rights to them."
For what felt like the first time in her marriage, Cora stood her ground against her mother-in-law.
"I have the right to take them for a vacation," she said firmly. "Or to have them meet and get to know my family. Since I have no intention of leaving Robert, you can't accuse me of kidnapping them. I wrote to him and he wrote back with his permission for me to take them for a visit to New York. You can't stop me."
Violet's eyes narrowed dangerously and it was all Cora could do not to cow in fear.
"My son is risking his life every day," she said. "And thanks to you, he doesn't have an heir of his own. If he gets killed, Downton will go to that odious man or his insipid son. As much as I rue the day Robert married you, I will not allow you to take away and ruin my only grandchildren."
"I'm very much afraid that it is you who could ruin them," parried Cora, the years of abuse and frustration making her unable to keep her composure for a moment longer. "You offend and undermine me at every opportunity. You're teaching my own children to despise me and everything I am. I am not going to stay here and let you, not without Robert here to support me. I have his permission and the tickets for the ship and I am taking them away until he is back. Now I am going to oversee the packing."
She turned around and walked upstairs with her back straight and her head held high, even though everything inside her was trembling.
xxx
Cora looked at Mary's aloof expression and sighed.
She had so many hopes for the American trip, but it was becoming increasingly obvious to her that she was failing, at least when it came to Mary.
She was too late.
Sybil was soaking every new experience like a little excited sponge. Edith was timid and quiet, but lapped every bit of attention any new acquaintance bestowed on her. Mary…
Mary evidently held herself above everything and everyone she encountered.
Every time her Grandmamma said something brash – which, Cora admitted to herself with a wince, was quite often – Mary's eyebrows rose in superior incredulity. Every time Harold foregone good manners and spread himself on the sofa with a cigar and a glass of whisky, she glared at him with all the disdain a nine year old could muster. If Cora heard one more time her daughter's voice proclaiming that something was not how they were doing it in England, her tone a perfect imitation of the snide words of her grandmother, she was going to scream.
She did scream, eventually, even though she was not at all proud of herself for it.
"You're not in England now," she said harshly. "And it's beyond rude to point out to people that you think yourself above them, especially when they are going out of their way to be nice to you."
Mary seemed to mull it over, but in the end she bit her lip and glared at Cora resentfully.
"I want to go home," she demanded, clearly on the verge of crying. "I hate it here. Nothing is as it should be and I miss Granny, I miss Grandpapa, I miss Carson, I miss my pony, I miss Downton. I miss it all and I hate it here and I hate you for bringing me here!"
"It's my home!" cried Cora, knowing that she shouldn't, that it was absurd to quarrel with a child like that, but finding herself at the end of her teether. "And my family! And since we will stay here for several more months, I expect you to show proper respect to your Grandmamma, Uncle and everyone else. Weren't you taught better manners than that? Because right now you're not showing the famous English breeding in a good light."
That apparently struck some chord with Mary, because she raised her little chin in a challenge and nodded.
"I'm sorry, Mama," she said, her eyes still flashing, but her tone more conciliatory. "I will do better."
And she did. For the rest of their stay, Mary was a perfect little lady, with poise and control nearly unnatural in a child that young. It was uncanny to watch.
"Now, what witchcraft have you performed to tame this hissy cat?" asked Martha one evening, observing Mary conversing with ease and perfect politeness with one of their guests, a wife of a rubber baron. "Two weeks ago she wouldn't have hesitated to point out to Milly that she found her both stupid and vulgar. Mind you, she wouldn't be wrong if she did."
"I reminded her that a proper English lady is supposed to remember her manners," muttered Cora, wondering desperately why she felt uneasy with the display. Surely she should feel proud of her parenting skills?
Martha laughed loudly and sincerely at that.
"Ah, so she is showing us off by being better behaved than all of us put together!" she shook her head with amused admiration. "Your daughter has spunk, I will give you that. She certainly didn't get it from you."
And she'd been taught to hate everything which I am, thought Cora miserably. And I didn't notice that early enough to stop it.
xxx
The telegram announcing the end of the South African war and the planned return of her husband to England put an end to their extended American vacation and Cora could not be sorry for it.
Robert was safe and on his way home!
She was even ready to endure her mother-in-law again just for the joy of finally being back in his arms every night.
As it turned out, she was coming to a more changed home than she expected. Robert's father, the 6th Earl of Grantham, was dead. Violet was to move out to the Dower House and she was the Countess of Grantham and mistress of Downton Abbey now.
Robert was safe and she was free.
xxx
Not completely free, of course. Dower House was close enough that Violet easily got into the habit of haunting her former kingdom and reminding everybody of her former rule over it, but she grudgingly gave up most of her power to Cora.
Nominally, at least.
"We need to do something about the entail," she said one day when they were sitting in the library and observing the girls playing croquet on the lawn with Patrick Crawley. "Downton should go to Mary."
Cora raised her eyes at her in surprise.
"Can anything be done?" she asked incredulously. "I was always told it was unbreakable."
Violet made a dismissive gesture.
"Oh, we can't challenge the document itself," she said, her eyes still focused on the children outside. "But she could have Downton if she married Patrick."
Cora turned towards the window, her mind busily considering Violet's words.
Patrick was two years older than Mary and a pretty nice boy, all things considered. Thankfully, he didn't inherit his father's obnoxious temper. He was mild-mannered, generically handsome and destined to inherit Downton, the earldom of Grantham and Cora's own fortune.
Mary could do much worse than that.
"Can it be arranged?" she asked thoughtfully. "The advantages of the match are obvious for Mary, but Patrick may have his choice of potential brides with his prospects."
Violet scoffed.
"Patrick will do what he is told," she said assuredly. "And the prospect of closer ties to the family – and our money – years ahead of the possibility of inheritance will be enough to sway James. No, it's Mary we need to convince. She likes to have her own way and she reads too many novels."
"I will talk with her," said Cora with more confidence than she really felt. Mary could be so very stubborn! "She loves Downton more than anything and I imagine she would like to be a countess."
"It is what she deserves," agreed Violet firmly. "I'm going to talk with her as well, but we must be united on that front."
Cora nodded, her eyes going once again to the croquet players.
"We must. The shock of it should be enough to make her treat us seriously, don't you think?"
Violet smirked.
"I think it very well might."
xxx
"Why would I want to marry Patrick?" scowled Mary, glaring at Cora in her vanity mirror. "I like him well enough but he is hardly a dashing suitor!"
"Patrick is sixteen," pointed Cora placidly. "No boy is a dashing suitor at sixteen. He is going to grow into one, I'm sure."
"But I haven't met anyone else!" protested Mary, turning around on her stool and looking Cora into eyes. "I am years away from my debut! How am I to know if I don't meet someone better then?"
"My darling," said Cora, coming over and caressing Mary's shiny curls. She was so breathtakingly beautiful! "When people like us marry, it is not for love, although it very well might come later, as it did for me and your Papa. But he married me for my money and I married him for his title and we are so very happy together. You want Downton to be your home forever, don't you? You want to be the Countess of Grantham? Because you are born to become one, my darling, you really are."
Mary crossed her arms stubbornly.
"I want to choose my own husband," she said. "I love Downton, but I would have to be with Patrick forever if I married him and I am not sure I like him well enough for that."
Cora gamely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
"You will have plenty of time to get to know him better," she said reassuringly. "You're only fourteen, it will be years until we can seriously consider any marriage for you. But I want you to think of it and of everything you would gain if you became his wife. Everything which should have been yours if we were not trapped by this ancient custom favouring sons over daughters. You're owed this, Mary, and this is the only way you can get it."
xxx
"Your mother is right," said Violet during a walk through the grounds with Mary, nearly making her stumble in shock. She didn't think she had ever heard her grandmother utter those words before. "If we were in Spain or Italy – or even in America – you would have been your father's heiress. As it is, we are stuck with Patrick, since your mother failed at giving your father a son. Getting you two married would make everything right."
"But I don't like him enough for that," protested Mary. "We have nothing in common. He likes different books, he doesn't like to ride, he has a completely different sense of humour and frankly, I don't think he is so interested in me."
"Piff!" said Violet with a dismissive swish of her cane. "He is sixteen and you're still a child. Wait a few years, with how you look he would have to be blind to not be interested in you then. And as for everything else, you don't have to have the same interests as your husband. I certainly didn't share any with your grandfather."
Mary sent her a sharp look.
"You married him because he was an Earl?"
"Of course I did," answered Violet without missing a step. "My father was only a baronet. It was a huge coup for me to become the Countess of Grantham."
Mary looked away, biting her lip.
"It's just…" she started frustratingly, searching for words to express her problem with the proposed arrangement. "Shouldn't there be more to it?"
"Are you waiting for a great love?" asked Violet mockingly and Mary blushed with embarrassment, tossing her head to hide it.
"Of course not," she denied scornfully. "I know that life is not a novel or a poem. But marrying Patrick, forever, seems very unappealing. Even if I get to be the Countess of Grantham and the mistress of Downton."
"You don't have much to compare this fate to yet," said Violet indulgently. "My dear, grand passion does happen for some of us, but it's far from a reliable source of happiness. In fact, it brings suffering more often than not. You have no guarantee that if you ever feel it, you will feel it for the right person. Whoever you marry, you need to keep your head clear. Marriage, for our kind of people, is indeed forever, and you must think of the big picture: what will your life look like, what will be your position in society, how does the marriage influence your family. Marrying Patrick would ensure that you get everything which is owed to you as the eldest child of the Earl of Grantham, even if the law stupidly says otherwise. You would have your house, a title, a position, a fortune – everything your mother enjoys now would be yours and you deserve it, Mary. Not to mention the fortune and the estate would stay in the family and you could ensure Patrick won't do anything stupid with it. You're so much smarter than him."
Mary bit her lip in indecision.
"I will consider it," she said finally. "But I am still not convinced being stuck with Patrick for fifty years is worth it."
xxx
"You're so lucky to have such pretty, charming daughters!" said Lady Russell wistfully. "I am glad to have a son, of course – it makes everything so much easier when you have an heir to the estate – but I've always wished to have a girl as well. Mary is such a beauty and so self-possessed! She will take London by storm on her debut, I'm sure of that. And Sybil is simply a darling."
"Thank you," said Cora sincerely, then saw Edith lurking nearby with a dejected air and added hastily. "And of course I am very proud of Edith as well."
"Oh, Edith!" said Lady Russell, looking a bit flustered by the realisation of her omission. "She is a very nice girl too."
xxx
"The Countess of Grantham presenting the Lady Mary Crawley."
Cora's eyes prickled as she looked at her beautiful daughter curtseying to the King and Queen. She was easily the prettiest of this batch of debutantes and most graceful and she saw the confirmation of that in numerous eyes looking at Mary with either admiration or envy.
She knew that her daughter was going to be one of the most successful girls during this season and deservedly so.
She prepared her well.
xxx
Mary opened the ball with her father of course – Cora's eyes glistened when she saw how proud he was of their eldest as he was leading her in a waltz – but Patrick had long before asked her for the second.
"They do look good together," said Cora a little doubtfully as she observed them while dancing with Robert. Patrick had grown into quite a handsome boy, but well… He still looked more like a boy than a man and it was obvious Mary intimidated him a bit.
"He's only twenty," said Robert, twirling her adeptly around the room. "We need to give him time to get ready for marriage. There is no haste."
"You're right," agreed Cora, admiring once again Mary's grace and poise on the dancefloor. Her dancing card was already full. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if she gained a lot of attention from other quarters."
"Then we will discreetly let them know she is spoken for," answered Robert easily. He liked Patrick a lot and liked the prospect of Mary as the mistress of Downton even more. She was born for that role. It was a neat solution all around.
xxx
"You've been really mean to poor Patrick," Edith accused Mary chidingly as they were driven back from the Northbrooks. "I can't understand how you can look into a mirror!"
"Very easily since what I see looks much better than you ever will," sniped back Mary and Cora felt an onset of familiar headache. Couldn't they ever stop this eternal bickering, at least for once in their lives? "Besides, I'm not sure of what you speak. I barely spoke to him tonight."
"Exactly!" cried out Edith triumphantly. "He is your supposed fiancé and yet you abandoned him the moment this duke gave you a glance."
Cora noticed that Mary blushed uncharacteristically. The glare she gave her sister was all too common for her though.
"I did not abandon him," she said frostily. "I simply agreed to accompany the duke to look at the orangery. Besides, you kept him company, didn't you? Seeing as there was no danger of any other man dragging your attention away, I felt secure enough that he would not be left alone."
Edith reddened again, but clearly in anger.
"You don't deserve him!"
"And you only want him because he is intended for me," came the immediate riposte. "You always want anything which is mine."
"Girls!" snapped Cora, feeling that she was reaching the end of her endurance. "Please be quiet for a minute. We're nearly home."
Edith and Mary glared at each other in sullen silence until they reached Grantham House.
xxx
Mary came to her just as she intended to ring for O'Brien and get ready for bed. It had been a long evening.
"Mama, I'm not sure I want to marry Patrick," said Mary, looking at her earnestly, still in her evening finery. "The Duke of Crowborough kissed me at the Northbrooks!"
Cora looked at her mournfully from her vanity.
"Oh, my dear girl, you're so lovely it's no wonder men want to kiss you," she said, looking at Mary's beautiful face and graceful figure. "But it's a long way from a kiss at a ball to a proposal. If the duke proposes, we may consider the matter, but unless it happens you should make more effort with Patrick. He looked quite morose tonight; he's spent more time with Edith than with you."
Mary pursed her lips unhappily.
"But I don't like spending time with him," she protested. "We can hardly find anything to talk about."
Cora rolled her eyes slightly.
"That's because you are not making an effort," she chided. "You usually have no difficulty with talking to men."
"To men, no," said Mary darkly. "But he is not a man, but a wet blanket. He agrees with everything I say."
Cora raised her eyebrows.
"And how is that a problem?"
Mary threw her hands.
"It's boring and dishonest!" she cried out. "I don't know any of his thoughts on anything – I don't even know if he has any – because he only says things which he thinks will please me. I catch myself saying the most ridiculous things just to provoke him into disagreeing with me, but he never does!"
Cora dropped her head into her hands, feeling an oncoming migraine.
"Oh, Mary!" she groaned. "Must you be such a child?"
Mary straightened, clearly offended.
"I just want a husband I can look up to," she said stubbornly. "Somebody to challenge me and to ensure I am not going to be bored and miserable for the next forty or fifty years. Someone who is not afraid of me or convinced I should keep my mouth shut. It's surely not too much to ask."
"Patrick likes you," said Cora for what felt like a hundredth time. "He will be a good husband to you. Anyway, he is going to America soon with James, so he will be out of your hair for a few months. Try to be a little nicer to him before he departs. We will announce your engagement when they come back in the autumn."
She rose from her stool and walked over to the sullen Mary.
"My darling, it is for the best," she said, caressing her smooth cheek gently. "You deserve to be a countess. You deserve Downton to be yours. You deserve my fortune and an elevated position in society. You will be able to achieve so much when you marry, I'm sure of it. Patrick is the best way for you to achieve it all."
Mary only sighed.
xxx
The news of dear Patrick's death – and James', she had to remember James, although in all truth she had never liked him – hit her like a hammer. The poor, dear boy! And all their hopes for the future, which seemed so nicely settled, destroyed!
Except… Mary was never truly keen on Patrick, it could be acknowledged now when they didn't need to push her into it anymore, and if there was a chance she could inherit Downton and her fortune instead… Or, at the very least, the money alone… Maybe it wasn't the worst thing which could have happened. If only Robert wasn't so very stubborn!
xxx
There was no way Cora could fall asleep after helping to carry a naked male body through the whole house.
Oh God, how could Mary be so stupid? To ruin her whole life, whole future? And for what? For a pair of alluring black eyes and a fleeting moment of pleasure? Well, she surely got paid for that! And she would continue paying if something wasn't done soon to cover it up. Cora hoped fervently that nobody saw them and the truth about Mary's ruin would never get out, but she was afraid to believe it.
She just prayed that the stupid, stupid girl was not going to end up with child after it all.
Oh God, whatever could be done to contain this mess before it brought ruin to the whole family? Destroyed Edith and Sybil's prospects as well as Mary's? Killed Robert with the terrible truth of his eldest daughter's behaviour?
She did not know and she was terrified.
xxx
Violet handed Cora a letter as soon as she managed to take her seat.
"Read it," she ordered without preamble. "It's from Susan Flintshire."
"What does she say?" asked Cora warily.
"Prepare for the worst. Not the first page. My poor niece never uses one word where twenty will do. Start there. I'm sorry to have to tell you…"
"I'm sorry to have to tell you that Hugh has heard a vile story about your granddaughter Mary…" Cora's voice trailed off as she finished reading the letter in silence.
"Sorry? She's thrilled… now, first I must ask – and I want you to think carefully before you answer — is any of it true?"
Cora hesitated, which apparently told Violet enough.
"I see. Some of it is true. How much?"
Cora just looked at her in defeat. She wasn't even able to rejoice in seeing her formidable mother-in-law speechless.
"Oh, dear."
"She didn't drag him."
"I wondered about that. Obviously Susan has forgotten the distance between the girls' rooms and the bachelors' corridor."
"She couldn't manage it alone," agreed Cora grimly.
"So how did she do it?"
"I helped her. She woke me up and I helped her."
For a moment, Violet just gaped at her.
"Well. I've often thought this family might be approaching dissolution. I didn't know dissolution was already upon us. Does Robert know?"
"No. And he is not going to," stated Cora firmly.
Violet nodded, seeing the wisdom in that. This debacle called for a delicate approach and her son was anything but subtle.
"Of course, it was terribly wrong. It was all terribly wrong. But I didn't see how else…" ploughed on Cora determinedly, but Violet was in no mood to listen.
"Please! I cannot listen to your attempts to justify yourself!"
Cora stood up. It was time to bring the meeting to an end.
"I know this has been very hard for you to hear. And God knows it was hard for me to live through. But if you expect me to disown my daughter, I'm afraid you will be disappointed. Good day."
She left the room without another look at Violet, who was as motionless as a statue.
It was the second time in Cora's life that she actually walked out on her mother-in-law.
xxx
Cora turned from her desk to greet her mother-in-law coldly.
"There's no need to be so prim. I come in peace. Shall I sit here?" she asked, plumping down on an armchair. "Now, I've been thinking. I confess I do not know if I'd have had the strength, mentally or physically, to carry a corpse the length of this house, but I hope I would have done."
Cora stared at her in astonishment as Violet continued.
"You were quite right. When something bad happens, there is no point in wishing it had not happened. The only option is to minimise the damage."
"Or try to. But if the Flintshires have got hold of it..."
"I've written to Susan. I said it was a story made up by Mr Pamuk's enemies to discredit him. Even if she doesn't believe me, she won't tell in case it reflects badly on her. The Ambassador's dangerous, but how many people really go to the Turkish Embassy?"
"It only takes one," said Cora despairingly.
"Well, well. There's nothing to be done about that. We can't have him assassinated... I suppose."
"Robert still doesn't suspect."
"Oh, I should hope not. No, our only way forward is to get Mary settled as soon as possible."
"I have news on that score. Matthew has proposed."
Violet looked up with interest.
"My, my. And has she said yes?"
Cora raised her eyes heavenwards. If only!
"She hasn't said anything yet. Except that she's going to have to tell him about Pamuk."
Violet's eyes bulged.
"For heaven's sake, why?"
"She thinks keeping it secret would be dishonourable."
"She reads too many novels. One way or another, everyone goes down the aisle with half the story hidden."
"But won't he...?"
Violet fluttered her hand dismissively.
"There are a million ways round that! After all, she knew enough for there to be no baby."
Cora was rather miffed by this.
"Or he did," she said pointedly.
"The question is, will she accept Matthew?"
"I'm not sure," answered Cora, betraying just a fraction of the frustration she truly felt with her stubborn daughter.
"Well, if she doesn't, we will take her abroad. In these moments, you can normally find an Italian who isn't too picky. We'll give her till autumn."
"Very well. If she is not engaged by then, we will take her to Rome in September," Cora nodded decisively. "Thank you for not turning against her. I know you have rules, and when people break them, you find it hard to forgive. I understand that and I respect it."
"In this case, Mary has the trump card."
"What?"
"Mary is family," said Violet with a smile.
xxx
Cora entered Mary's room with a deliberately bright smile.
"I've ordered a hamper for tomorrow, so there's no need to find a hotel."
Mary looked at her with perfect indifference.
"Why? We can easily get there and back in time for luncheon."
Cora kept her smile through the sheer force of will alone. That obstinate girl!
"Richard told me he wants to make a day of it. I think that's nice. And before you can be rude to me, I'm going to say goodnight."
She left the room, but stopped just outside for a moment, taking a deep breath and praying for patience. She could not escape overhearing the conversation between Mary and Anna though.
"She's afraid I still want Matthew, with all his limitations," Mary was saying wearily.
"And do you, milady?"
"Only when I'm honest," answered Mary and Cora marched to her room before she started screaming.
Why, oh why was Mary so determined to throw her life away?! Richard had his faults, Cora was not blind to it, but he was holding Mary's future in his hands and he was going to a lot of effort to impress her and be a good fiance – and later a good husband, surely – to her. Buying and renovating Haxby Park, the impressive engagement ring, frequent visits at Downton despite his busy schedule… And her stubborn, obstinate, headstrong daughter was willing to throw it all away for a crippled, impotent, broken man who could offer her neither a proper marriage nor children!
Seriously, Cora had no words.
But she was going to be damned if she let Mary ruin her life like that.
xxx
Cora looked at her beautiful daughter getting dressed for her wedding and felt she was going to burst from happiness. After all those years and everything that happened, Mary was finally getting to marry the man she loved – and the heir to the Earl of Grantham, just as it was supposed to be. Finally and impossibly everything was right with the world.
Of course there was the issue of money Robert lost and the very real prospect that Downton could not be saved, but Cora didn't feel much bothered by it. They still had enough money to get by more than comfortably. So they would have to live in a smaller house, on a smaller estate – so what? Life would go on and for all Robert and Mary's heartbreak Cora felt confident that they would all be very happy after the initial grief would pass.
"Such good luck, my beautiful daughter," she said, embracing Mary delicately and blinking against the tears in her eyes.
Mary had always been her dearest girl.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I love Violet - she is one of my favourite characters and I love her relationship with Mary - but it has been long my deep conviction that she was both simply awful to Cora, especially when they still lived together before Robert's father died, and that she did her utmost to set Mary against her own mother. Mary did not pick those disparaging remarks about Cora being American from thin air. But I am very eager to hear your thoughts, whether you agree or disagree with my theory!