AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Thank you so much for your enormous patience in waiting for the update of this story! It took me ages to get this chapter anywhere close to me being satisfied with it, but I hope it is decent enough finally.
Content warning: there is a sex scene near the end of it which, while not graphic and consensual, has very dark connotations.
I am very much looking forward to your comments on this, because this chapter really was one of the most frustrating to write and I am curious what you think of it.
Royal Military College, Sandhurst, February 1916
"My dearest Mary,
How you would have laughed if you could see me now! If I had any illusions regarding my physical fitness, I assure you they are long gone by now. They put us through our paces in a truly gruelling way and by the end of the exercise I am usually not sure if I remember how to breathe. It is nearly as humiliating as my shooting abilities and you know how bad those are. If it wasn't for the fact that I'm doing relatively well in all the other classes – military history, army protocols and heaps of other theoretical knowledge they are trying to pour down our throats – I would have very serious doubts whether they didn't make a huge mistake by allowing me to try to become an officer.
Oh, my darling, how are you? Are your dreams still so very bad? I confess I often can't sleep here, despite honest exhaustion, because I both miss you and worry for you so terribly much. It's funny, in a way, that I have been perfectly able to sleep alone for twenty eight years and yet two years of sharing a bed with you were enough to completely rid me of this ability. I wake up and find myself reaching for you, confused wherever you have disappeared to, because in my dreams we are usually together. I long to have you in my arms again and feel your soft breath on my chest. Everything is better when you're with me.
How is Irene? Does she seem to miss me? I am not sure whether I wish more for her to do so or not. On one hand, my heart breaks at the thought of her searching for me and not finding me there; on the other, it doesn't break any less at the thought of her forgetting me already. I miss her very much, every hour of every day. I miss both of you, my dearest girls. I'm counting the days till the end of training and my leave, even though I know that this paltry week can't possibly be enough. Still, at least I will see you and be able to hug you both and this thought keeps me through it all.
Your loving husband, who misses you something fierce,
Matthew"
Drawing room, Dower House, Downton Village, February 1916
"We must plan our moves carefully, my dear," announced Violet, looking at Mary intently over the table of tea and pastries. "When one is dealing with a man as pigheaded as your father, one must leave him no room for manoeuvre."
"What do you have in mind, Granny?" asked Mary, fully matching her intensity. "We don't have much time before he goes."
"That's why we need allies, obviously," said Violet, putting a spoonful of honey into her tea. "Robert is stubborn, but if he is barraged with consistent advice and reprimand from several different quarters, he will reconsider his position. And since he won't listen to women alone, we need to get some men on our side."
"Matthew already tried," pointed out Mary with a frown and reached for her own cup of tea. "Without much effect."
Violet scoffed.
"Robert looks at Matthew as his apprentice. He is not going to accept his advice without a much bigger fight than your husband is likely to give him," she looked at Mary shrewdly. "Not like I assume you're ready to give him."
"You assume right," agreed Mary calmly and took a sip of her tea. "If there is any chance that Downton won't be left in Richard's control for the foreseeable future, I am ready to fight for it."
"Good. Then the only thing left to do is to pick our potential allies and decide on the best way to procure their assistance."
Sitting room, Carlisle House, Grosvenor Street, Mayfair, London, February 1916
"Mama! I was astonished to receive your telegram. What has brought you to Town so urgently?" exclaimed Rosamund, kissing her mother lightly on the cheek.
"Your husband and your brother," answered Violet acerbically. "And the foolishness they concocted together."
"How mysterious," commented Rosamund lightly with an elegant rise of her sculpted eyebrows and walked gracefully to ring for tea to be brought. Violet, meanwhile, sat imperiously in one of the armchairs and looked critically at the opulent room. Rosamund had clearly done well for herself, materially speaking. If only she didn't have a rotten taste in men! Marmaduke was bad enough, but Richard really took the cake.
They talked of Violet's journey and Rupert's antics and Rosamund's most recent soiree until a footman was done with serving them tea and cucumber sandwiches.
"Let's put aside Richard's intervention at the War Office to get Robert back into active service," said Violet with a dismissive gesture. "This was an easy enough favour; just a conversation or two with the right people. But what can be his motive for accepting responsibility for managing such a huge estate as Downton, an extremely involved and time consuming commitment and for an unknown length of time?"
Rosamund frowned.
"Clearly, he wants to do a favour to my brother."
"But why?" pushed Violet, staring at her intently. "He doesn't need anything back from Robert and he doesn't strike me as altruistic. He is undoubtedly busy enough with all those newspapers of his which he always talks about, and with your parties. Don't tell me that he couldn't find a polite way to refuse. Excessive shyness is not an affliction your husband seems to suffer from either."
Rosamund rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by that way of inquiry.
"Of course not!" she answered sharply and put her teacup on the saucer with an audible clang.
"Then why? What could be so attractive at Downton, specifically, to make him agree? Or should I ask who?"
"You can't mean Mary!" snapped Rosamund. "He got over that infatuation years ago!"
"Maybe he did, maybe he didn't," said Violet quietly, with a significant look at her daughter. "But if I know anything about husbands, it's that it is usually best to keep them away from the particular temptation they might be susceptible to. Out of sight, out of mind. Why court trouble where there's no need for it?"
"Surely Mary wouldn't be willing to engage in anything with him, even if he would," protested Rosamund, but she sounded less sure than before.
"Of course she wouldn't!" scoffed Violet, offended on Mary's behalf. "But do we really want any awkwardness between them? Do you want any awkwardness in your marriage, which is entirely avoidable? Why let him spend all this time with her, discussing the estate and allowing him to remember all the reasons he used to have to want to marry her in the first place?"
Rosamund frowned thoughtfully, but Violet could see that she was getting through to her.
"I can't forbid him from accepting the responsibility," she said slowly. "That would only lead to a nasty row."
Violet nodded.
"He likes to think he's in charge," she said indulgently. "Like most men. But surely you can do some subtler form of convincing while I and Mary work on Robert's side?"
Rosamund smiled with growing confidence.
"Leave it to me, Mama," she said smugly. "I will see what I can do."
Drawing room, Loxley Park, February 1916
"I need your help," announced Mary without preamble as soon as she was left alone with Edith.
"Mine?" asked Edith in utter disbelief, which, come to think of it, was rather justified.
"Well, your husband's, but I assume you will be a better person to convince him than me," answered Mary with a slight grimace.
"Most likely," admitted Edith, still astonished. "So what is that all about?"
Mary looked at her sister intently.
"Papa has the bright idea to leave Sir Richard in charge of Downton. A man who doesn't have a clue about managing an estate, farming or anything really which would be involved in the task."
Edith shrugged.
"He is a man though," she observed. "It's probably what counts for Papa. There won't be anyone else left with him and Matthew left."
"What about Anthony?" asked Mary. "He is truly competent. I wouldn't mind him being in charge."
Edith puffed up slightly at the compliment to her husband, but shook her head.
"He is truly competent, but he is gone so much… I'm not sure whether Papa would feel it right to ask him in the circumstances."
Mary nodded and went for the kill.
"Then what about you and me? I've been managing Eryholme for two years now and haven't you done the same for Loxley in Anthony's absence? I know he must have taught you about all kinds of things related to farming."
Edith gaped at her.
"You would be willing to propose running Downton jointly with me?"
Mary sighed, but nodded.
"I know you're more knowledgeable and capable than anybody but Anthony gives you credit for," she admitted reluctantly. "And as much as we usually dislike each other, I much prefer to work with you than with Richard. I'm sure we could get along well enough to oversee Downton and Papa might have less reservations about it if we join forces. We could faithfully promise that we will consult any big decisions with Anthony when he's at home."
"You must truly hate Richard to propose a partnership like that to me," observed Edith shrewdly. "What has he done to you to earn it?"
Now, that was a subject Mary had no intentions to go into with her sister. She did not trust her nearly enough not to use it against her in some manner. Still, some explanation was necessary to get Edith onboard.
"He wanted to marry me before he got engaged to Aunt Rosamund," she said slowly, barely restraining shudder at the thought. "And let's just say that I did not appreciate his chosen method of wooing."
Edith eyed her with naked curiosity, but was wise enough to know that pushing for further details was going to be fruitless.
"But even if he is in charge of Downton, you wouldn't necessarily have to spend any time with him," she pointed out instead. "You live at Eryholme."
"Which is a part of Downton holdings. I would have to report to him regularly or get his permission for any significant changes to my estate, just like I am doing with Papa. Eryholme is small enough that Papa mostly allows me to do what I please with it – I think it amuses him that Matthew put me in charge – but I can't trust Richard to leave me so much freedom. I don't want him in charge over me and I am willing to go very far to prevent it from happening."
"Like allying with me," noted Edith dryly.
"Yes," answered Mary decidedly. "So, will you do it?"
Edith leaned back against the sofa, deep in thought.
"I might," she said, sounding surprised at her own words. "It is absurd for Papa to pick a man who knows nothing about such matters and, to be frank, I need something to keep me busy while Anthony is away. You're right, he does leave me in charge of Loxley, but it's so well set-up it practically runs itself most of the time and allows me much too much time to think."
They both looked down, aware of what was the subject looming so heavily in Edith's thoughts.
"Good," said Mary briskly, breaking the silence. "Then we need to plan how to sell this idea to Papa. I would say that we need to make it seem like Anthony was chiefly in charge, but with the understanding that he would delegate most of the day-to-day responsibilities to us."
Edith nodded.
"We also would need to divide those responsibilities between us very clearly," she pointed out. "Otherwise what are we going to do in case of disagreement?"
Mary's mouth twitched.
"Quite wise," she agreed. "You know, the shock of seeing us working together on this may just convince Papa to agree."
They laughed together for the first time in years.
Drive from Loxley to Eryholme, February 1916
Tom nearly drove off the road when Mary related to him the gist of her conversation with Edith.
"You plan to run Downton together with Edith? Will there be any estate left for Robert to come back to?"
Mary frowned in irritation.
"It's not ideal," she admitted dryly. "But Papa is not going to hand it to me, however sensible it would be. I need to have some man nominally in charge and the pool of potential candidates is woefully small. The only other one I could think of was Dickie, but Papa knows how little interest he has in managing his own estate, so I'm not sure I could sell it, unfortunately. Anthony has real passion for farming and agricultural reforms and is not likely to roughshod Edith or me. He could turn out to be truly helpful, much as I hate to admit it. He may have some good advice to offer."
"That's all true, but seriously, you and Edith? Together? Robert is never going to buy that! I'm not sure I am able to buy that."
"I can control my temper when I must," said Mary firmly and glared at the sceptical look Tom threw at her in the rearview mirror. "I can!"
"I know, Mary," Tom answered in a pacifying tone. "And I know that Edith truly is more capable and nicer than you ever give her credit for. But seriously, can you foresee working with her as you did with me without wanting to scratch her eyes out? Because if you don't, we need to come up with a different plan."
Mary sighed, leaning against the seat and giving it an honest thought once again.
"I find Edith more than annoying under normal circumstances, that's true, and I know it's mutual," she said slowly. "Not to mention we have all this history together which makes it terribly difficult to get along. However, we have been known to unite if the occasion required it."
"Like when you chased me and Sybil," noted Tom dryly, earning himself a smirk from Mary.
"A good example," she agreed. "Of course, it never lasted long, but thinking back how she and I managed to keep out of each other's way for most of the war, I am hopeful that we can find a working relationship now. I don't expect we will ever become bosom friends, or even very good sisters, but if we play our cards right, we might succeed in running Downton without strangling each other."
"Or the power struggle between you too may start another war there," said Tom fatalistically.
"Or that," said Mary with a shrug. "But I would much prefer to wage a war against Edith than against Richard. I have a much better winning streak against her."
Ritz, London, February 1916
"Thank you for meeting with me, Shrimpie," said Violet, accepting a kiss on the cheek in greeting. "I know you are a busy man those days."
"Never too busy to meet with you, Aunt Violet," answered Shrimpie fondly, helping her to the chair. "What can I help you with this time?"
"Tell me, who is in charge of Duneagle and your Welsh property while you are busy being a minister?" asked Violet after accepting her cup of tea.
"My agents," answered Shripmie in clear surprise. "They write to me for any big decision, but they are the ones who actually know how everything works, better than I do, to be honest. Why do you ask?"
"I suppose you heard that my son decided to go to the front?" asked Violet, raising her eyes heavenward when Shrimpie nodded. "Well, if that wasn't foolish enough, he intends to leave Rosamund's husband in charge of Downton."
Shrimpie's brows rose.
"I didn't think Sir Richard had any experience with running an estate."
"He doesn't. He's from Edinburgh and as far as I know has been living in London ever since he left it. I don't think he even saw many estates until my obstinate daughter decided to marry him. He's hardly a person one wanted to invite for a house party before she took interest in him."
"That's not how the matters look like nowadays though," said Shrimpie. "He is quite a big wig, always at the Whitehall for one thing or other. His and Rosamund's parties are always very well attended too."
"So he is neither qualified nor has enough time on his hands to be put in charge of Downton, wouldn't you agree?" asked Violet sharply.
"Well, he wouldn't be my first choice," hedged Shrimpie, "but it's obviously Robert's decision to make."
"It's a wrong choice though," insisted Violet. "And I hate to think what kind of consequences it may bring on our heads. You know that many estates are struggling and I won't allow Downton to be one of them."
"What can be done about it though?" asked Shrimpie with a frown. "It is Robert's choice, even if we disagree with the wisdom of it."
"We have to convince him it's the wrong one, of course," answered Violet matter-of-factly. "And since he is not likely to listen to me alone on it, I need you to back me up."
Shrimpie sighed.
"I don't like pushing into Robert's affairs like that," he protested. "It's not my place."
Violet raised her eyes again as if to ask God for help and patience.
"I'm not asking you for anything so overt," she explained. "Simply to come to dinner at Downton when you're invited and participate in general discussion on my side of the argument. You certainly have practice with such tactics as a minister, don't you?"
"I can do so much, yes," answered Shrimpie reluctantly. "Although I do not fancy making Sir Richard my enemy. His newspapers grow more powerful by the day."
"Then be smart about it," countered Violet sharply. "Flatter him when you speak, point out how important he is in London and how he can't possibly find time for some estate deep in rural Yorkshire. Talk with Robert when he can't hear you. Seriously, do I have to teach you the simplest things? How have you even managed to become a minister?"
Shrimpie shook his head with a fond smile, clearly giving in.
"You don't, Aunt Violet," he said. "I will try to talk some sense into Robert without offending either him or Sir Richard."
"Good," said Violet, pacified. "Just don't tell Susan anything about it. I don't intend to invite her and rile everyone up."
Drawing room, Eryholme, February 1916
"Thank you for coming, Mama," said Mary, leading Cora into the drawing room and ordering Molesley to bring tea.
"But of course, darling. What do you need to discuss with me? It sounded urgent on the phone."
"It is," admitted Mary. "But let's wait for tea."
Cora frowned, but astutely picked up on Mary's reluctance to talk in the presence of the servants. Until the tea was served and Mary dismissed Molesley they discussed Irene and the nearest fundraiser for the hospital.
"I'm concerned with Papa's plan to leave Richard in charge," said Mary when they were finally alone. "I don't think he is competent enough in this area and, frankly, I do not trust him to have our best interests at heart."
"Why?" asked Cora with a frown. "I know you don't like him – you never have – but do you have a basis for such a serious accusation?"
Mary took a deep breath.
"He tried to blackmail me, Mama," she said plainly. "Before I married Matthew and he Aunt Rosamund. He found out some absurd gossip concerning me – nothing true and he knew it wasn't – but he still threatened me with publishing it unless I agreed to be his friend."
Cora went white. She put her teacup down with a trembling hand, making it clang against the saucer.
"Why have you never said anything?"
"Because there was no need," answered Mary calmly. "Matthew took care of it all. He confronted Richard and got him to back off. Threatened to sue him, I think, and ensured I was never left alone in his presence. I thought I didn't have to worry about him ever again, but then he went and married Aunt Rosamund. I tried to warn her, twice – first at my wedding and then again when they announced their engagement – but she dismissed it. Said it was a brief infatuation on his part and that he is used to underhanded tactics."
"But you don't agree," observed Cora shrewdly, her eyes locked with Mary's.
Mary hesitated, choosing her words carefully.
"He hasn't done anything untoward since getting together with Aunt Rosamund," she said slowly. "But no, I don't agree. I know him enough to be aware that he can be very patient when he wants something enough and that he does not give up easily, definitely not at the first obstacle."
"And you think he wants you?"
Mary shrugged uneasily.
"I know it sounds awfully melodramatic and probably conceited," she said self-deprecatingly. "But I can't stop wondering why he picked Aunt Rosamund of all people so soon after the showdown with me and Matthew. He was desperate for my attention and yet it's a coincidence that within the weeks of my rejection he got involved with her? They are obviously well-suited and I know she is happy with him, but I simply can't trust him after everything that went down between us."
"You think he wanted to stay close to you," said Cora tightly. "That he used her as a link to you."
"I know it sounds improbable," repeated Mary. "Especially since it's been over two years and he hasn't approached me in any way. But just the same, I want to keep away from him. Maybe Aunt Rosamund is right and he has long forgotten about his interest in me and I am paranoid, but what if I'm not? What if the only reason he hasn't done anything was because he never had the opportunity? And now with both Matthew and Papa gone and him in charge of Downton which means also being in charge of Eryholme…"
"You're afraid he could use it to entrap you in some way," summed up Cora, looking horrified.
"Like I said," said Mary uncomfortably. "Melodramatic."
Cora's face tightened.
"Whether melodramatic or not, it doesn't mean you aren't right," she said fiercely. "You were never prone to flights of fancy. If you feel that man may be a danger to you – and he has already proven himself to be once – then we simply can't allow him the opportunity to harm you. We must tell Robert."
Mary looked at her in alarm.
"Are you sure about it?" she asked uncertainly. "Papa is not going to react at all well to a story like this."
"He won't be angry with you!" exclaimed Cora, making Mary shake her head instantly.
"That's not what I am afraid of," she said quickly. "But what if he blows up at Richard?"
"He would deserve it," answered Cora coldly.
"He would," agreed Mary, "but it would also cause all kinds of trouble. The rift with Aunt Rosamund, for the start. Besides, Richard is powerful. More powerful than you think. He got Papa back into the Army proper when all Papa's connections failed to achieve that. I don't want to antagonise him. I just want him to keep away."
Cora's frown deepened.
"You think that if Robert angered him, he would take revenge on him somehow?" she asked incredulously.
"Or on our family as a whole," answered Mary with complete seriousness, making Cora start.
"You consider him so dangerous?"
"Yes," answered Mary with emphasis. "I do."
"Very well," said Cora with growing determination. "We will try to change Robert's mind without disclosing your history with Richard or your fears concerning him. But if that fails, I will tell him, just in a way which forces him to wait before any confrontation would be possible. Your Papa is hot-headed, but he can be reasonable with some time to reflect upon things. And I know that in the end he will want what I want."
"Which is?" asked Mary and swallowed at the fierce glow in her mother's eyes.
"To protect you to the best of our ability," she answered firmly. "You are our daughter and this will always be our priority."
Mary swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat.
"Thank you," she said, striving for composure. "Thank you for believing me and taking me seriously."
"Of course I do," said Cora. "You've never given me a cause not to."
Mary pushed away the memories trying to arise to the surface of the time when she had given Cora cause to doubt her. Now was not the time to dwell on it.
"I have an alternative plan for the management of Downton in Papa's absence, actually," she said instead. "But first, I need you to invite some people to dinner."
Library, Downton Abbey, February 1916
"Papa, I wanted to show you the books for Eryholme for the last two years," announced Mary, coming into the big library at Downton where her father was sitting at his desk.
"Is this yet another attempt to convince me to leave you in charge of Downton instead of Richard?" asked Robert with exasperation.
Mary set her mouth stubbornly.
"I am doing a good job there," she said. "And I know I would do a good job here, if you only gave me a chance."
"Mary, you have enough on your plate with worrying about Matthew and taking care of Irene. I know that Matthew has been indulging you with allowing you to make some decisions for Eryholme, but Downton is on a whole other scale and I would never burden you so. You have no idea what you're asking for."
Mary very deliberately counted to ten in her head. She did not expect this battle to be easy and she would not lose her temper and with it any possibility of victory.
"Papa, I know more than you think," she said calmly. "I haven't been making some decisions for Eryholme, I've been managing it entirely and I am making profit. I know Downton is much bigger and complex, of course I do. But this is why I am concerned about Richard being put in charge of it. He knows less than I do, after all. You can't dismiss me for lack of experience and excuse his."
Robert sighed impatiently.
"Be it as it may, he is a good businessman. With Jarvis and Murray's help, he will be able to make decisions for Downton and I trust him to make good ones."
"Good ones for whom?" challenged Mary. "Yes, he is a good businessman, but haven't you always been saying that Downton is not a business? Do you know how he runs his newspapers? He is ruthless, Papa, that's how he climbed so high. Do you want to come back and find half of your tenants evicted for the slightest delays on rent? Your fields sold to developers? Your old servants dismissed without cottages or pensions?"
"He wouldn't do that," protested Robert with a frown, but Mary could see that she did manage to strike a point, even if he didn't want to admit it.
"Why not?" she persisted. "Any of those actions would bring profit to the estate and this is how Richard sees the purpose of a business – to bring profit. He wouldn't even understand what you could find objectionable in any of those actions."
"Jarvis should be able to keep him in check," said Robert stubbornly. "He knows how things are done here."
Mary threw her hands in exasperation.
"And what makes you think that Richard would listen to Jarvis? He would see him as a subordinate, not someone who would be entitled to an opinion or, God forbid, telling Richard what to do."
"Are you sure you are not projecting your own inability to listen to Richard?" retorted Robert, getting visibly exasperated with her as well. "He knows his limitations regarding estate management; there is no reason to think he won't use the experience of Jarvis or anyone else who can advise him."
The dressing gong interrupted them before the discussion had a chance to deteriorate further.
Before Mary went upstairs, she penned a quick note to Violet and sent a hallboy to deliver it to the Dower House.
"I tried, Granny, but he won't listen. We will proceed with the plan."
Nursery, Downton Abbey, February 1916
Mary slowed down the movement of the rocking chair and looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms.
"I'm doing it for you, my darling," she whispered softly, careful not to wake Irene. "I will save Downton for us."
A painful thought struck her that her promise would be empty if anything happened to Matthew. Irene was no more a boy than Mary was and thus no more of an heiress, not with the terms of the entail as they were. Unless it turned out that Matthew left Mary with child and that child was going to be a boy, if he died, all ties between Downton and Mary and Irene would be cut. Neither of them would have any rights to it.
Mary's mouth tightened in a determined expression. She would not think of such a scenario. Matthew had survived the war once and she had to believe that he would survive it again. In the meantime, it was up to her to ensure that when Irene one day became Lady Irene, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham, she would be able to call Downton Abbey her home.
She would not allow Richard to take it away from her.
Dining room, Downton Abbey, February 1916
Mary sat down to dinner with all her muscles tight from tension.
The placement plan for the ten diners had been very carefully considered. Papa was flanked by Granny and Aunt Rosamund, facing Cora flanked by Richard and Shrimpie. Mary sat between Anthony and Richard and tried very hard not to let him see how nervous she was by now unfamiliar proximity. They were both directly in the line of sight of both Papa and Aunt Rosamund and if there was anything to notice, Mary was reasonably sure that her aunt, at least, would definitely see it.
As planned, the conversation at the table naturally turned to Robert's appointment and expected long absence.
"War requires different sacrifices from all of us," observed Shrimpie casually. "Neglecting our usual responsibilities for greater, more urgent ones being one of them."
"That's certainly true," agreed Anthony, sending a mournful look at Edith. "And it might be a heavy sacrifice indeed."
"The main problem is to ensure that this neglect does not result in a catastrophe," said Violet pointedly. "So you all will have duties remaining to come back to after all this foolishness is over."
"It is a valid concern," agreed Anthony again. "Which is why I consider myself extremely lucky in my choice of a wife. I feel secure in the knowledge that Edith will hold the fort for me and ensure Loxley is prospering, and I know Matthew feels the same about Mary and Eryholme."
"It is heart-warming to hear such praise of my daughters," said Robert graciously. "Although I would not personally feel comfortable bestowing such a burden on Cora while I'm away."
Mary looked at her mother and thought that for all her deference to Papa and lack of involvement of anything concerning the estate beyond charity and community events, she probably wouldn't do a bad job of it if given half the opportunity. Cora could be ruthlessly practical when the occasion demanded. Isidore Levinson's heritage was well-hidden in her, but not entirely gone.
"There is a difference between me and the girls though," she said sweetly now, but with a determined glint in her eyes. "I've never had any need to involve myself in the estate affairs, while Mary has been running hers since she married and from everything I hear Edith has been Anthony's true partner in running theirs, especially when he had to travel so much during the last year. They know what they are doing."
"I find that we often underestimate the women in our lives to our peril," said Shrimpie jovially. "I must admit that Susan is a true asset when it comes to diplomacy. She understands the goals perfectly and is a true asset when it comes to achieving them. Isn't it your experience as well, Sir Richard?"
"Certainly," answered Richard with a smile, raising his glass to Rosamund. "I wouldn't be where I am now without the ingenuity of my wife."
Rosamund smiled gratefully.
"Don't sell yourself short, my dear. It wasn't me who put you on the press committee with the Ministry."
"I wouldn't be surprised if you did, in fact," said Richard and Mary thought that the look he gave Aunt Rosamund was somehow shrewd, as if he suspected something which, annoyingly, he had no proper knowledge of. "You spent more time recently with Lloyd George, Asquith and Swire than I did."
Rosamund shrugged charmingly.
"They are fascinating men to converse with," she said cheerfully. "For all their personal shortcomings, they are in charge of our country during the war."
"What committee is that?" asked Robert hastily, correctly judging from Violet's expression that she was ready to go into full tirade on the subject of her daughter associating with the likes of Lloyd George.
"Daily meetings of primary newspapers' owners with the War Ministry," explained Rosamund with obvious pride. "To discuss the war progress and its press coverage."
"The War Office expects significant developments this summer," said Shrimpie seriously. "It's of vital importance that they are conveyed to the public in a proper manner. I can see why the committee was established. Your role in the war is no less vital than those leading the soldiers on the battlefield, Sir Richard."
"My main goal is to sell newspapers," answered Richard predictably. "I leave propaganda to the government. Nonetheless, being on the committee does ensure access to privileged information and I could hardly afford leaving it to Max Aitken and Lord Northcliffe."
"Especially considering how close Mr Aitken is to Lloyd George and Bonar Law," muttered Shrimpie. "It's not just on the committee he is getting his information."
Richard visibly gritted his teeth.
"He has cultivated his ties for a long time, as has Lord Northcliffe," he admitted grudgingly. "But I have ties of my own and they are growing."
"It must necessarily keep you in London though, mustn't it?" asked Mary, trying to make her remark appear not as pointed as it was intended. She saw Papa grasp the truth of it instantly and hid her smirk behind her wine glass. "With so many things you must personally see to."
Richard looked at her in an intense way which instantly wiped that hidden smirk off her face.
"I have many commitments on my time, yes," he said smoothly. "But I can always make time for my family."
Mary suppressed a shudder. She hated thinking of Richard in such a context, she simply hated it.
"I'm sure nobody in the family would presume to take more of your time than is strictly necessary," she said. "Not when your increasing success can earn you a peerage, as it did for Lord Northcliffe."
"It will earn it in time," he assured her, still looking at her intently. "The knighthood has been just the beginning."
"I believe you," answered Mary honestly. She never had doubts that his grandiose ambition would not be realised some day; he was certainly determined enough to succeed. It just never had impressed her, much to Richard's bitter disappointment. "All the more reasons to allow you to concentrate on your affairs."
His eyes glinted dangerously; he must have realised that she was working against him here.
"You are not the only one whose load is getting increasingly busy, Sir Richard," said Anthony. "Running an estate during the war and with the submarine attacks on the ships importing goods to Britain is a challenge which every day makes more pressing."
"Especially with the labour shortages due to the men enlisting and now being drafted," added Edith. "How are you dealing with it at Eryholme, Mary?"
"I'm switching the crops to less labour intensive and I bought a new tractor," answered Mary promptly. "One of the American ones. It is lighter and easier to manoeuvre, even for a growing boy or a woman."
"A woman?" asked Robert incredulously. "Surely you don't intend to drive it yourself?"
Mary rolled her eyes.
"Of course not," she scoffed. "But with the way things are going, there may not be any men available. There will be increasingly many women who might be willing to take such work though, especially with so many of them becoming widows with children to feed."
"They are entitled to the widow's pension," pointed out Robert.
"Which is not much," Edith shook her head. "I've been approached for work by some already and I won't be surprised if, as Mary says, women are going to be employed in wider capacity anyway. With so many of the men gone, we will need somebody to do their tasks."
"And women are no less capable than men!" interjected Sybil passionately. "Why shouldn't they do the men's jobs while they are gone to fight?"
Robert rolled his eyes in full exasperation with his youngest daughter's eternal suffragist crusade.
"Surely you don't expect women to work in coal mines?"
"Maybe not there," answered Sybil, undaunted. "But aren't they already working in factories and farms? As nurses, teachers and secretaries? Haven't they proved that they are as capable of hard and useful work as men are?"
"Women are not prepared for the kinds of jobs men hold by their education or upbringing," said Robert. "They are not prepared to handle heavy responsibilities."
"Well, then we need to change the way we handle education for girls," countered Sybil. "Because this is not women's innate fault, just a failure of society to give them equal opportunities to the ones men get."
"It's not something which can help us with the labour shortage during this war though," said Richard reasonably. "Even if the education system is reformed, which clearly is not a priority right now, it will take years for it to make any effect on the labour force."
"But it's already happening," said Sybil stubbornly. "The weapons factories are hiring chiefly women. The ticket controllers, clerks, secretaries – they are women nowadays more often than not. And women are handling the estates with their husbands gone, like Edith and Mary are. It is silly and blind to refuse to see that they do all that and are succeeding."
Mary looked at Sybil in awe and amusement. Sybil was the only person at the table, other than Papa and Richard, who had not been part of the conspiracy and yet she played her part unknowingly and brilliantly.
"I must agree with you, Sybil," said Anthony. "As I said, I have full trust in Edith's ability to manage Loxley in my absence. In fact," he addressed Robert, "if I were you, I would consider simply putting Edith and Mary – or one of them, if you think it wiser – in charge. They both have experience in running an estate and, with some guidance maybe taking into account the difference of scale, I'm sure they would do a splendid job."
Robert had just enough time to look at him incredulously before Shrimpie jumped in.
"The idea is not as preposterous as it sounds," he said. "One hears about many estates falling into ruin through mismanagement by people not familiar with the intricacies of their functions. Surely it would be better to leave it to somebody who understands this kind of place, its traditions and how many people are depending on its survival."
"One doesn't have to be born on such an estate to learn it all," said Richard significantly.
"That's true," agreed Mary, making most of the people at the table, Richard included, stare at her in surprise. "Matthew wasn't. But what's needed, and what he did, is to put a lot of time and effort into learning to understand it truly before attempting reforms. You need to learn to love this place and the people who depend on it; otherwise, whatever reforms you will attempt, you will fail at keeping the heart of it alive, even if you will make some profit."
She danced inwardly when Richard unwittingly took her bait and scoffed.
"I've never taken you for sentimental, Mary. The profit is what you're supposed to get out of the estate, as out of any other business. There wouldn't be any point in running it in the first place otherwise. Granted, they are not the moneymakers that they used to be in the days of old, but they can still be profitables business ventures if managed properly."
Robert frowned.
"An estate is more than a business," he said curtly. "Its purpose is to support the people living on it and provide employment."
To Mary's continuing delight, Richard still failed to recognise what kind of trap he was walking into. Either his dersion for old-fashioned and inefficient ways of aristocracy was too powerful or he had failed to listen carefully to Robert's often expressed views on the subject – most likely a combination of both.
"And this is why so many estates are failing," he said condescendingly. "Because their owners don't see them as a proper business. They cling to outdated traditions and fail to count the money and as a result they end up with none and search desperately for a fortune to bail them out. Sometimes, through marriage or unexpected inheritance, they even succeed at that, only to lose it all over again through unwise investments and sentimental scruples. If I was running an estate, nothing like that would happen."
Mary looked at Papa's face and she knew she won.
The ironic thing was that Richard was perfectly right in everything he said. But Mary hadn't spent two years supporting Matthew's fight with Papa for the future of Downton and then picking it up herself after Matthew's death to not realise the utter impossibility of Papa agreeing with any part of Richard's speech in 1916. This kind of practical approach was an utter anathema to him, an antithesis to everything he had been taught and held dear. To him, Richard was just proving his absolute unsuitability for the task he had intended to give him and the funniest thing was Richard had no idea he was doing that.
When she followed Mama out of the dining room soon after, she noticed Shrimpie winking at her and knew she wasn't the only one comprehending what happened.
Library, Downton Abbey, February 1916
Robert huffed angrily as he poured whisky into glasses and handed them to Shrimpie and Anthony. At least Richard went to bed early, which was the only thing the man did tonight which didn't grate on Robert's nerves.
"I don't know what I've been thinking," he said bitterly. "He's not one of us and never will be."
"You are in a hard place," said Anthony consolingly. "There aren't really many people who you could consider to take your place and Sir Richard is good with money."
"I may leave him in charge of the investments," said Robert gloomily. "But not of Downton. Mary was right; he would run the place to the ground in an attempt to suck money out of it."
"She does understand what's on stake," pointed Shrimpie casually. "She was born and bred for it."
Robert sipped his whisky in silence.
"That she was," he finally admitted. "She was always intended as the future Countess of Grantham and she does love this place. She's always wanted it for herself."
"Then maybe you should consider trusting her with it?" ventured Anthony cautiously. "I've talked with her about some of her ideas for Eryholme, she truly knows what she's doing. Much better than Sir Richard, at any rate."
Robert frowned.
"Be it as it may, Eryholme is small. I'm afraid the responsibility might be too big for her, especially with her husband at the front and a baby to look after."
"I could supervise her," volunteered Anthony. "Or, if you'd prefer, her and Edith. They could support each other and divide the responsibility."
Robert boggled at him.
"Support each other? Edith and Mary?"
Anthony shrugged.
"I know they haven't always gotten along, but they approached me about that idea themselves."
"Haven't always gotten along…" Robert nearly choked on his whisky at the understatement, but then the second part of Anthony's statement registered. "They truly approached you together about putting them jointly in charge?"
"Under my supervision," clarified Anthony. "But essentially, yes."
"It does sound like the best solution available," agreed Shrimpie with a shrug. "Why not try it? Anthony is home often enough to intervene if they are too out of their depth."
Robert took another sip of his whisky. The idea was absolutely preposterous, for so many reasons, but frankly, what else could he do.
"And would you be willing to accept such a huge commitment in addition to your other duties?" he asked Anthony.
Sir Richard and Lady Rosamund's guest bedroom, Downton Abbey, February 1916
"Leave the light off," whispered Richard, reaching for his wife's nightgown which she eagerly helped him remove. At least he never had a reason to complain about her enthusiasm in the bedroom and usually he enjoyed this part of their marriage quite thoroughly.
Tonight though, it was about something else.
Or someone.
Being in that accursed house where he had spent so many nights engaged to Mary, increasingly looking forward to having her in his bed and correspondingly increasingly frustrated with her maddening delaying of that moment, brought all of those powerful feelings to the forefront of his mind. Sitting next to Mary at dinner, so close, so bloody close, didn't help either. He could still smell her perfume, the same one she had favoured when they had been engaged – vanilla and irises, he remembered, a French one, ridiculously expensive – and the memory of her clear, white skin, her shiny chestnut hair, that maddeningly graceful form was haunting him now with the strength it had not possessed in years. He needed an outlet, he needed an illusion or he was sure he was going to go mad from it.
In the dark he could not tell the difference between red curls and brown.
Their figures were similar enough too for the illusion to work, both lithe, slender and yet strong, even if appearing fragile in his grip. Thankfully Rosamund was not very vocal in bed, her reactions restricted to gasps and soft moans and he imagined Mary wouldn't be either. Mary, his stubborn, dignified, inscrutable Mary, no, she wouldn't be vocal, she would have made him work for getting any reaction out of her and he would have, oh, he would have, as he was working for it now, doing his damndest to drive her crazy, to crave his touch as much as he was craving hers, to possess her utterly as she possessed him body and soul whether she wanted to or not. He had bedded so many women over the years and scarcely cared for either of them but Mary, damn Mary, she was driving him mad, utterly mad with want for her and yet he had hardly even gotten to kiss her. He had tried to be a gentleman with her, he had tried to be patient and what had he gained from it? Nothing but rejection and humiliation. If he could do it all over again, if she hadn't gone and married Crawley before he could have gotten to her, he would have done it differently. He would have made her his, at the first opportunity, he would have made her bound to him so she could never leave him again, could never afford to reject him like that. She would have been his, his own, always his, and he would have never let her go again.
"Mine!" he hissed, grasping her wrists tightly and holding them over her head. "You're mine! Say it!"
"Yours," she moaned in the darkness and his heart nearly stopped at hearing this. "I'm yours."
He felt the rush of ecstasy as he had never felt before, because yes, she was his, she was his and she was finally admitting it, she was feeling it too and oh damn it all, he could not stand it anymore, it was too perfect, too…
"Mary!" he groaned before he collapsed in utter exhaustion next to her.
Only to feel her stiffen and reach for the bedside lamp.
He blinked, looking at Rosamund's aghast face.
"Most definitely not," she said icily.
Dower House, Downton Village, February 1916
"You were right, Mama," said Rosamund curtly. "Having Richard near Mary is not good for my marriage."
Violet pursed her lips.
"I see," she said heavily. "That's unfortunate, even if not entirely unexpected."
"It was unexpected enough for me," complained Rosamund bitterly, but immediately smiled with confidence in response to her mother's inquiring look. "Don't worry, Mama. I can handle myself and I can handle him. He is not my great love and I am not a starry-eyed debutante."
"It's still a disappointing development," observed Violet, not without some compassion, for all she thought her daughter brought it on herself.
Rosamund shrugged.
"I'm not denying that. But as I said, I can handle it. Our marriage still has too much to offer both of us to fail over it."
Library, Eryholme, February 1916
"My darling,
We won! Papa saw the error of his ways and is going to leave Downton in my and Edith's hands, under Anthony's supervision. Yes, you've read it right, I and Edith are supposed to co-operate in that grand endeavour. Nobody is more shocked than me that I came up with this idea, but it has more merit than it looks at first glance. She knows much more about modern farming than anybody suspected (hardly surprising, in hindsight, considering how she managed to hook Anthony in the first place) and involving her and through her the nominal oversight by Anthony, helped Papa feel as if he did have a man in charge. God forbid he was actually forced to acknowledge that I (and even Edith) are competent enough by ourselves! But I tell myself to focus on the bigger picture and celebrate the fact that it won't be all put into Richard's hands. I admit to being impatient to put my hands on Papa's financial records; I hope he proceeded with switching part of the shares Mama's fortune has been invested into to APOC and possibly even other companies likely to do well in the context of the war, but I tremble in fear how much of it might still be remaining with that doomed railway project. If my suspicions are true, I am determined to rectify the situation as soon as the ink on the power of attorney dries and then hope to God Papa won't reverse any of my decisions when he's back. He might not when he sees that my investments perform better than his ever did, but you know Papa, he hates to admit to not being right.
I will be merciful and won't tell you how amusing I found your stories of humiliation in training. I won't even say 'I told you so'. Isn't that magnanimous of me? Instead I will implore you to put as much effort into training as possible and to get better at running and shooting; as I understand it might make a difference between you coming back to me or not, in a way that knowledge of military protocol won't, so please don't slack off. Besides, it would make the Crawley name look bad if you did, and that would warrant siccing Granny on you.
Irene does appear perplexed where her daddy disappeared to, especially when I mention you or rock her to sleep. She looks around with this puzzled expression on her face and I won't lie and say that it doesn't break my heart. I show her your photograph every day and put one in the nursery, over her crib, in hope that it will help her to remember your face. She does point at it eagerly, so I think she recognises it is you on it. She is doing very well otherwise and becomes more of a cheeky little monkey with every passing day; Nanny Lewis's job got certainly more challenging now when she has to race after her through the nursery as soon as she is put on the floor. You wouldn't believe how fast Irene can be now when she has a goal in mind. Papa calls it true Crawley determination and claims I was just the same.
The dreams are what they are, but there is nothing to be done about it except to wait for the war to end and you to come home. I took to napping in the afternoon when Irene does if the night is especially bad, so I don't walk overly tired. I have been way too busy in the last few days with the Downton campaign to dwell on it too much and it did help, so I suppose I must find ways to keep myself too busy to think. With getting responsibility for Downton in two weeks, after Papa departs for training with his regiment, I should be assured of that.
I miss you terribly, my darling, even when I try not to.
Your loving wife,
Mary"