Levinson's Cottage, Newport, Rhode Island, July 25th, 1922
Cora had to admit that eating leisurely breakfast at a sunny terrace with a lovely view of the ocean was doing wonders for her spirit. Or she would, if admitting it out loud would not be a sure way to make her mother unbelievably smug.
As much as she enjoyed her surroundings, the escape from the place which brought alternatively happy and excruciating memories of the past, and even her mother's company, she reached eagerly for the letter from England which was being handled to her by a footman.
"Who is it from?" asked Martha in between bites of a freshly baked croissant.
"Edith," answered Cora distractedly. With some of the letters she preferred to retreat to the privacy of her bedroom, but she deemed one from her middle daughter safe enough to open in front of her mother. To be perfectly honest, Cora probably wouldn't have been half so eager to read it if she wasn't feeling a bit homesick. Edith's letters were usually hardly exciting.
She turned out to be very wrong about this one.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, dropping the letter as her hand flew to her mouth.
"What on Earth happened?" Martha pounced immediately, eyes shining with curiosity. She was quite eager herself for something exciting enough to break her ennui. The summer was much too boring so far.
In her shock, Cora could find no way other than to tell the truth.
"Edith writes she is pregnant," she said in a stunned voice. "By her married lover!"
Martha Levinson blinked slowly then burst into loud laughter.
"Of all your girls," she guffawed. "I did not expect Edith to be the one! Still water runs deep indeed!"
Cora glared at her.
"It's not a laughing matter!" she exclaimed, anger at her mother pulling her out of shock at the news. "If this news gets out, she will be utterly ruined!"
Marta waved a hand dismissively.
"I assume there is some kind of plan in motion to avoid just that. What are they going to do?"
"Well," said Cora, picking up the dropped letter. "There seems to be a difference of opinion how to proceed best. Mama and Rosamund offered to take Edith to the continent and give the child up for adoption quietly. Edith wants to keep the baby though and considers joining Mr Gregson in Berlin – she claims he promises to marry her as soon as he manages to divorce his wife and hopes that they can claim they have been married earlier than they in fact will be able to."
"Both plans are rubbish," said Martha immediately. "It is so very like dear Violet to just give away her own greatgrandchild to avoid a scandal, but I have no such intention. Of course, Edith should keep her baby. But joining her lover in Germany, however nice, is hardly sensible. People do travel to Germany, even the English, and I cannot imagine they would be living in total isolation."
"What do you propose then?"
Martha shrugged.
"Write to her to come here. You can go with her somewhere nice and far away from anybody who matters – all the way to California if you want, you said you wanted to see the place – and wait there until her lover is free. If he still wants her then, she can marry him, if not, at least nobody will be the wiser about her little fall from grace."
"But what about the baby? How are we going to explain it?" asked Cora, intrigued by the proposal.
Martha looked at her in exasperation.
"You will adopt it, of course. You can say that you felt lonely and sad in your widowhood and picked a little orphan to cheer you up. And then, when Edith is settled one way or the other, you can always say that the baby turned out to be too much of a headache and Edith graciously agreed to help you and take care of it herself instead."
"That... might actually work," said Cora slowly. "Do you think nobody would question such a story?"
Martha rolled her eyes.
"Don't the English consider all the Americans mad? They will just think you're predictably eccentric now that you don't have an English husband to keep you in check anymore."
Crawley House, Downton Village, July 25th, 1922
Around the same time Cora and Martha were plotting over croissants and coffee, Matthew collapsed tiredly into his favourite chair in his mother's sitting room as she poured him a bracing cup of tea. He accepted it with gratitude.
"Thank you, Mother," he said feelingly. "I've really needed that."
He didn't like to admit even to himself that his visit was more about escaping from the tension in his own home than the desire to see his mother – although he always enjoyed her company and saw her often enough without such reasons – but this time he found himself in a definite need of an escape.
The last few days had been hard. Rose was alternatively weepy and surly and barely speaking to anybody. Mary and Edith were both perfectly willing to speak to him but were very demonstratively not speaking to each other. Add to that Tom being too busy with the wheat harvest to come for lunch or dinner and Violet and Rosamund accosting him for news whether Edith finally made some decision regarding her predicament and Matthew felt perfectly justified in running away for a bit.
"I can see that," noted Isobel dryly. "Out with it, my boy. What troubles you so?"
There was nothing more Matthew would have wanted than to complain to his mother about every little detail, but he was well and truly trapped by the need of secrecy for most of the matters involved.
"I'm being dragged into way more Crawley family drama than I ever wished for," he answered sardonically. "With a good dose of the MacClare connection thrown in for good measure."
"Ah," Isobel picked up her own teacup with a gleam in her eye. "The joys of parenting a teenage girl coupled with the intrigues of the female part of the family?"
"I and George are woefully outnumbered," grumbled Matthew over his tea.
"Anything you want to share?"
"I can't. None of it is my secret to share."
Isobel's eyebrows went up.
"So there are multiple secrets? Oh boy."
Matthew rolled his eyes in a passable imitation of his wife.
"Way too many."
"Serious ones?" asked Isobel playfully and sobered at Matthew's serious face as he nodded. "Oh. Then of course I won't badger you to tell me. Even though you have made me curious."
"Believe me, you are lucky to be out of it."
"Is Mary and Edith not speaking a part of it?"
Matthew groaned.
"Most definitely. And I assure you it's extremely awkward when we all share a table and they are both speaking to me."
Despite all her sympathy for her boy's plight, Isobel chuckled. Matthew glared at her, but without rancour.
"Yes, laugh at me," he grumbled. "I would like to see you in my position."
"I would just give them a piece of my mind and remind them that they are not in the nursery anymore," answered Isobel placidly, making Matthew laugh in turn.
"You know, I can well believe you would. It wouldn't work though. They are well too stubborn."
"I raised you, didn't I? I have plenty of experience with the Crawley stubbornness."
They exchanged fond smiles and drunk more of their tea.
Library, Downton Abbey, August 2nd, 1922
Considering that by now Rose and Isobel were the only members of the family not fully informed about Edith's troubles, the next Crawley family conclave took place in the big house's library. Mary, after adamantly refusing to get involved in dealing with her sister's affairs, offered to take Rose shopping in York so the rest could plot in peace.
"I do want to have it solved," she told Matthew with a shrug. "But I don't want it to be solved by me. Just tell me afterwards what the plan is."
Matthew was concerned that Rose would refuse the trip, busy as she was with listening to sad records in her room, but apparently her heartbreak was not of a kind to deny herself the consolation of buying some new clothes. He decided to treat it as a good sign. He found himself missing Rose's exuberance and relentless enthusiasm for everything.
For now though, they all had the matter of Cora's letter to discuss.
"It is a surprisingly good plan," admitted Violet with the highest reluctance. "Nobody would think it odd that you went to visit your mother and grandmother in America and while people would talk about the oddness of Cora taking in an orphan, everybody knows Americans do strange things."
"You really think nobody would connect Edith's absence to the appearance of Cora with a baby?" asked Matthew. He did agree that this plan made sense; he just wanted to make sure Edith really would be as safe as possible.
"It's not as good as giving the baby up would be," said Rosamund bluntly. "But if the timing is right, if Edith comes back at a separate time from Cora – preferably few months earlier – at worst we would have some gossip."
"And gossip can be dismissed and denied," agreed Violet. "It would not be perfect, but it would give us enough plausible deniability. And if that man manages to divorce his wife and still wants to take Edith, well, it will end the matter."
"And if he doesn't?" asked Matthew darkly. He did not trust Gregson to do the right thing regarding Edith and his child. Not anymore.
"Then we will have to find Edith some Italian count who is not too picky," answered Violet caustically.
"Granny!" exclaimed Edith. It was the first thing she had said during the discussion after relaying contents of Cora's letter.
"Well, they often aren't, and if he doesn't marry you after all we would need to find someone else," said Violet, unperturbed by her granddaughter's outburst.
"Michael will marry me," insisted Edith, her eyes blazing in her pale face. "He loves me!"
Matthew refrained from pointing out that if he did, he certainly had a callous way of showing it.
Violet did not.
"He loved you enough to seduce you," she pointed out coldly. "But not enough to protect you from the very situation you found yourself in. Forgive me for not trusting him with your future until proven otherwise."
Edith bit her lip to stop herself from crying.
Rosamund broke the awkward silence.
"I think you should book a passage on the first ship available," she said practically. "You're over 3 months along; the sooner you go the better. Those modern dresses will cover for a multitude of sins, but they won't be enough soon."
"We should send a telegram to Cora to start making arrangements," agreed Violet.
But Matthew was looking at Edith, still barely restraining tears.
"Edith," he asked quietly. "Is this what you want to do?"
She raised her moist eyes to him.
"I don't have much choice, do I?" she said, striving to smile and failing miserably. "So I guess I will have to. It's just..."
She stopped, unwilling to speak further, but smiled gratefully at Matthew when he squeezed her hand.
Mary and Matthew's bedroom, August 2nd, 1922
"Poor grandmama, we treat her as the last retreat for granddaughters facing disgrace. At least Sybil never made plans to run away to America, as far as I know," said Mary, rubbing cold cream into her face.
"Would you have really gone if I didn't come to my senses and asked you to stay?" asked Matthew curiously from the bed.
Mary nodded.
"Yes, I would have. I had no wish to face the repercussions of Richard's wrath on my own. And, to be honest, I thought it would be healthy for me to get away from you if you were convinced there was no future for us together," she said candidly.
Matthew flopped against the pillows with a groan.
"I really was a fool, wasn't I?"
Mary smirked.
"Yes, you were. What did change your mind, in the end? You never really said."
"Part of it was Mother insisting I was being a fool to let you go, very rudely I must say," admitted Matthew grudgingly.
Mary laughed.
"I will remember it when it comes to choosing her Christmas present this year. But you said part, what was the rest of it?"
Matthew smiled ruefully at her.
"You said you were going away and it scared me to death. Suddenly all my scruples seemed nothing in comparison to possibly never seeing you again."
Mary raised her eyebrows and put the cold cream jar away on her vanity.
"So you came to the ball with the intention to propose?"
"Nothing so definite, no. I just knew that I couldn't let you disappear from my life for good. I did resolve to beg you to stay, but my contingency plan, in case you refused, was to follow you to America."
Mary looked at him in shock.
"Really? You never told me that!"
Matthew laughed.
"Because, thankfully, you decided to put me out of my misery and agreed not only to stay in England but to marry me. I was too busy trying to believe my luck to consider happily unnecessary backup plans."
Mary climbed into the bed next to him and caressed his face, her shining brown eyes looking straight into his blue ones.
"It was the happiest, most magical night of my life," she said quietly. "I think I might be eighty and able to recall every detail of your face as I made you kneel in the snow."
Matthew laughed happily, returning her caress.
"I don't think I will ever forget it either, down to the awful feeling of wet, icy snow on my trousers. But I will also remember that I was so incredibly, unbelievably happy I did not give a damn."
Their eyes closed as their lips met each other.
Downton grounds, Downton Abbey, August 3rd, 1922
Rose was sitting on a blanket under the cedar tree and felt like everything, from the weather to the happy scenes surrounding her, were in direct contrast to her feelings.
It was a bright summer day, hot and beautiful, and Mary decided on an impromptu picnic. The white canopy had been raised and the table and chairs placed under it, but only Isobel and Violet decided to use it. Matthew, Mary and Tom were busy playing with their children on the lawn and Edith was still inside. Avoiding Mary, most likely. Rose did not know what the matter between the sisters was, but it was clear as day that they were fighting again. Not that she cared, being angry with Mary herself and out of charity with everyone else. If the only alternative wasn't joining Mummy in India – Mummy would never allow Rose to go to James or Annabelle instead, saying that she did not believe any of them would keep Rose out of trouble – she would wish to get as far from Downton as possible. As angry and disappointed as she was with her Crawley cousins, anything was better than being trapped with Mummy and her relentless criticism of everything Rose said or did.
She looked gloomily at the happy little family in front of her. Tom was playing an energetic if chaotic game of football with Sybbie while Matthew and Mary were making soap bubbles for George to catch and destroy. Rose listened to the baby's delighted giggling every time he managed to hit a bubble with his chubby little hand and wondered if she ever was going to experience this kind of domestic happiness for herself. With all the cynicism of a 19-year-old (soon to be 20!) she decided it was highly unlikely. Not when everybody was determined to destroy her chances at finding true love.
She was distracted out of her thoughts by Edith sitting next to her.
"I hope you don't mind," she said tiredly. "I am not in a mood for another lecture from Granny, but the weather is too nice to stay cooped inside."
Rose looked at her cousin in perfect understanding.
"Why are families so overbearing?" she burst out. "It's like they want us to be unhappy!"
Edith shrugged.
"They do want us to be happy. They just want it to happen according to their own views what's best."
"Best for whom?" muttered Rose rebelliously, only for Edith to give her another tired look.
"The family, mostly. But I think they do consider it the best way to make us happy as well."
"I think they don't care at all! The only thing they care about is avoiding scandal, as if that was the most important thing in the world!"
"Well, scandals are not pleasant things to deal with," noted Edith cynically. "It's just that avoiding them may end up making you even more miserable than being embroiled in one."
Then she seemed to recollect something and added hastily:
"But of course jumping headfirst into something impulsive and inadvisable can ruin your life too."
Rose glared at her.
"Are you going to lecture me as well?"
"No," said Edith, laying down on the blanket. "I made too much of a mess of my own life to lecture anybody."
That piqued Rose's curiosity. She liked Edith but she had always considered her... well, rather boring to be honest. Nowhere near as glamorous as Mary or as fun as Sybil. What kind of mess could Edith allude to?
"What mess?" she asked, hoping for a candid answer, but Edith only gave her a knowing sideways look.
"One brought by following my impulses instead of my brain."
Rose couldn't help rolling her eyes at that.
"So you're going to follow your brain now and get in line?"
"I'm not sure," said Edith quietly. "I'm really not sure."
xxx
Isobel looked curiously at the two young women lounging on a blanket. She would give a lot to know what kind of trouble they both managed to get themselves into. She respected Matthew's discretion, of course, but that did not mean she wasn't interested.
Violet was looking at them as well.
"It's going to be so strange when Edith goes away as well," she said with uncharacteristic poignancy.
"Is Edith going anywhere?" asked Isobel in surprise. Violet seemed to recollect herself.
"She is thinking of joining Cora in America for an extended stay."
"Well," said Isobel, pondering this new piece of the puzzle. "It might be better for both her and Mary to spend some time apart from each other."
"Isn't that true!" Violet raised her eyes heavenward. "Those two have been fighting like rats in a barrel since they were little girls. But nonetheless, it will be strange to have her gone as well."
Isobel thought of all the family members gone from Downton one way or another in just two short years: Sybil, Robert, Cora, now Edith, and nodded in understanding and sympathy. All those losses and changes could not be easy for her friend. She shuddered at the thought of losing Matthew in such a way.
"The house will probably seem quite empty with just Mary, Matthew, their children and Rose in residence. Although Tom and Sybbie are just down in the village, of course."
"I'm sure they will want to introduce all kinds of changes now that they are in total control of it," scoffed Violet. "But I am glad it went to them in the end. Patrick wouldn't have done half of the job Matthew has."
Isobel looked at her in astonishment.
"You're actually admitting out loud that Matthew does good job as the earl?"
Violet shrugged.
"I will go far enough to admit that we were fortunate to get him as heir," her gaze gentled as she looked at her eldest granddaughter playing with her husband and her baby. "Especially for Mary's sake. I've never thought I would see her so happy and carefree as she is with him."
Isobel felt her own heart melt both due to Violet's unexpected admission and the scene in front of her. She thought back to the fear she had felt constantly for Matthew's life during the war and the bleak months after when she expected him to live the rest of it crippled, alone and so very sad.
"She makes him so happy in return," she said softly, "that I can sometimes hardly believe it myself."
Edith's bedroom, Downton Abbey, August 3rd, 1922
Edith looked at the packed trunks, ready to be taken to the train station in the morning. She didn't pack much – after all, it wasn't as if she would be able to wear most of her clothes soon. Her hand travelled hesitantly to the very slight raise of her belly.
In about six months, she was going to be a mother.
Her mind had been so preoccupied with deciding what to do and how to deal with the scandalous circumstances of this pregnancy that she had barely allowed herself to think about actually becoming one. But now, her mind made up, this was exactly what she did. She imagined seeing her belly grow, feeling the baby's kicks, holding a squirming infant in her arms.
She did not want to do any of that alone and in hiding.
Mama and Grandmama's plan was a good one, she knew it. The best they all had come up with as far as keeping the baby went. She expected it would be nice to spend the coming months with Mama in some exciting new place on the other side of the world. Mama's letter was so supportive and encouraging, there was hardly any rebuke at all, just concern and assurances that she will do all she can for her daughter and grandchild. And it meant so much to Edith that she could scarcely even express it.
But as nice as it all was, this was not what she wanted.
Her baby had a father. She had a man who loved her and who wanted to be there for them both, every step of the way. She knew it was wrong to want it while he remained married to another woman – she knew that nobody in the family would approve – but she spent the whole afternoon observing Mary and Matthew with George and could only think that she deserved it too. Her baby deserved it too. To be loved, to be cherished, to be a part of family from the very first breath. Not being born in secret and shame, thousands of miles from their father.
She walked with determination to her vanity and scanned the letter to her mother one more time before sealing it.
"I am so very grateful for your offer, Mama, and I will probably have to take you up on part of it. You and everyone else are right regarding the risk that I and Michael returning with a baby would raise too many questions. So if you agree to present the baby as your ward some time after it is born, I will be forever grateful to you. However, I just cannot leave Europe for so long..."
Berlin Hauptbanhof, August 5th, 1922
Edith got off the train and looked around among the billowing steam and the masses of people walking in all directions. For a moment, her heart bit faster in fear that she was alone in this enormous foreign city.
Then she spotted Michael's crooked smile and his dear, warm eyes and there was nothing which could stop her from running into his waiting arms.
"Oh, my darling," he murmured, embracing her so tightly she could barely breathe. "I've missed you so very much."
And at the moment, for the first time in months, Edith finally felt as if everything was right.