Thank you for the review, Mona Ogg! Mary is definitely naive about many things. Tom sees things more clearly than she does. Thank you again!

October 1913

'So, you didn't manage to hook yourself a husband in London, then?' Edith said, unable to hide the satisfaction in her voice as she sat beside her newly returned sister in the drawing room before dinner.

'I didn't go to London to hook a husband,' Mary replied evenly, doing her level best not to rise to the provocation.

'Oh? I thought that was the whole point of the trip,' Edith persisted, desperate to score points against her sister.

'It might have been Mama's goal, but it wasn't mine,' Mary said in a tone that she hoped would draw a line under this conversation.

'From what I heard, you were about as welcome as a rotten fish in London,' Edith said, the glee apparent on her face.

Mary lifted her head high, determined not to show how much that hurt. 'London isn't as important as all that.'

'No? I suppose not. It's only the smartest, most sophisticated place where anyone who is anyone needs to be seen,' Edith said, slanting a spiteful look at her sister. 'But I suppose if you're persona non grata there, you need to convince yourself that it doesn't matter.'

Mary took a moment to steady herself before replying. 'You should take care, Edith, not to be too gleeful.'

'And why is that?'

'Because you seem to fail to realise that what you see as my fall from grace may also affect your chances of an advantageous marriage.'

Edith narrowed her eyes, looking suspiciously at Mary. 'No, it doesn't. What do you mean by that? What you do has nothing to do with me.'

'Has it not? Are you sure about that? Because Mama's not,' Mary replied, keeping her voice even. 'She's quite convinced that if I am persona non grata then very few families will be all that keen to even consider a marriage between you or Sybil and one of their precious sons.'

'That's not true!' Edith protested, feeling a small shock of realisation run through her as it occurred to her for the first time that her attempts to blacken her sister's name may have bigger consequences than she'd intended.

'I shouldn't think it will be too much of a problem for Sybil. After all, she has her looks and her sweet personality to fall back on. Any smart family would be lucky to have her join their ranks,' Mary said, silkily. She tilted her head and fixed Edith with a sharp look. 'You, on the other hand, have nothing like that to recommend you. Your only advantages are your surname and your dowry. But if I am disgraced, your name ceases to be an advantage, and there are other girls who are both richer and more attractive than you.'

Edith glared at her, clenching her jaw in anger at Mary's words.

'So, I shouldn't be so quick to gloat if I were you,' Mary finished, watching with satisfaction as her barbs hit home and Edith turned puce with outrage.

'Dinner is served,' Carson announced from his post by the door.

Mary rose to her feet, leaving Edith fuming in her wake as Cousin Matthew approached her to escort her to dinner.

'It's so lovely to have you home,' Sybil said, stroking the brush through Mary's hair. 'I've missed this and our night-time chats.'

'I missed you, too,' Mary replied, warmly. 'It was so lonely at Aunt Rosamund's after everyone had retired to bed.'

'Were you not out and about much in the evenings, then?' Sybil asked, curiously. 'I thought you were very much a social butterfly when you're in London.'

Mary shrugged, conscious that Sybil did not know about the salacious rumours circulating about her. 'Not really, no. We went to a few balls, but not much else.'

'Didn't you go out to dinner?'

'Not really, no.' Aware that Sybil was looking more and more puzzled by her lack of engagements while in London, Mary quickly changed the subject. 'So, tell me: how goes it with Cousin Matthew?'

Sybil's face lit up, a big smile appearing on her face. 'Oh, Mary, I fear I am more fond of him than I was when you left for London. I find him endlessly fascinating. He is so interesting and he listens to me when I talk. We've had several discussions about voting rights. It's so refreshing to talk to someone who shares my interests.'

Mary raised an eyebrow, amused by how excited her sister was about talking politics with Matthew. 'I thought Branson was your political confidante.'

'Ah, well, yes, in many ways, he is. He is also fascinating to talk to and, of course, he has a completely different perspective on things to both me and Matthew. I enjoy speaking to both of them about political issues, but I can't deny that I find it thrilling to speak to Matthew about these things. And we discuss other things too,' Sybil said, a delicate pink blush on her cheeks.

'It sounds like you are becoming closer,' Mary said, thrilled for her sister that Matthew was taking more of an interest in her.

'Yes, I think perhaps we are. I… I went to Ripon last week and called upon Matthew at his office at lunchtime,' Sybil confessed, her brush strokes stilling as she looked anxiously at Mary in the mirror. 'Do you think that was terribly forward of me?'

'I suppose that depends,' Mary replied, trying to hold back a smile.

'On what?'

'On what happened.'

'Nothing happened!' Sybil said, earnestly.

'He sent you away, did he?' Mary asked, almost positive that Matthew would never do anything so ungentlemanly, especially to Sybil.

'No, he took me to lunch at a lovely little teashop,' Sybil confirmed, the blush returning.

Mary smiled at her. 'Then I think you acted perfectly. Lunch in a teashop with Cousin Matthew is entirely respectable.'

'Even though we were alone?'

'There were other people in the teashop, was there not?'

'Yes, of course, there was.'

'Well, then, I hardly think anyone could accuse you of any inappropriate cavorting.'

Sybil giggled. 'Cavorting?'

'Yes. Did you cavort with Cousin Matthew?' Mary asked, raising an eyebrow.

'No.'

'Then you behaved impeccably.'

'I don't think I'd mind cavorting with Matthew, though,' Sybil confessed, feeling very bold. She met Mary's eyes in the mirror, suddenly afraid that she had overshared.

Mary stared at her sister, thinking how wonderful it was to be in love and then broke into laughter at Sybil's admission.

Sybil began to giggle too, squeezing her sister's shoulders. 'Oh, Mary, it really is so lovely to have you home,' she gasped as she laughed.

'So, tell me, how went it in London?' Robert asked as he settled comfortably into the marital bed, watching his wife finish her evening routine.

Cora glanced at him in the mirror and sighed. 'Not well, I'm afraid.'

Robert frowned, looking concerned. 'These rumours Rosamund wrote about, are they still circulating?'

'I'm afraid so. Very few people wanted to receive us. Mary is definitely persona non grata at the moment.'

'But do we know why? Where have these rumours come from?'

Cora shrugged, wishing she knew the answer to that. 'I don't know. Mary said that Evelyn Napier is endeavouring to find out, but as yet, we have no notion where they came from. And perhaps we never will. That is often the nature of these things.'

'So, the drive to marry Mary off is made more urgent and extra hard then?' Robert remarked, getting straight to the crux of the matter, knowing his wife would be worrying about that.

'Yes, and by extension, it will be harder to secure suitors for both Edith and Sybil, too,' Cora said with a sigh.

'You're not going back to the idea of marrying Mary to Anthony Strallan, are you?' Robert asked, his brow furrowing.

'No, I think I have to let that go,' Cora admitted. 'You were right about it not being a good match. He may possibly be a good match for Edith, though.'

Robert gave a small sigh, thinking of their middle daughter. 'Poor Edith. She never seems to be able to attract anything more than Mary's cast-offs.'

Cora turned on her seat, giving him a sharp look. 'I hope you don't say that within Edith's hearing. She would be devastated.'

'Of course, I won't. I'm not that much of an idiot,' Robert replied indignantly as his wife walked over to the bed, throwing back the cover to get in beside him. 'What about Matthew?'

'What about Matthew?' Cora asked, arranging the bedclothes over her lap.

'Do you think there's any chance he and Mary could give it another go?'

'Did they give it much of a go the first time?' Cora enquired, raising an eyebrow.

'Oh, I don't know. I just think it would be the perfect solution to all our problems. Mary could stay at Downton, Matthew would have a countess who knows the house and the estate when the time comes, and the money and the title would stay in the family.'

'Yes, my darling, that is all true, but Mary is adamant she doesn't want to marry Matthew and he is not obliged to even consider her. He can marry whomever he chooses, we both know that. And so does he,' Cora said, patiently. 'I know you harbour hopes for them, but I simply can't see it coming to pass.'

'Ah, well, I suppose I can live in hope until all hope is dashed,' Robert said with a sigh.

Cora leaned towards her husband, cupping his face with her hands. 'And that is something I love about you. Now, how about we stop thinking about our daughter and your heir and you welcome me home properly after such a long absence?'

Robert grinned and closed the gap between them to kiss her.

November 1913

When the hall boy brought the message that Mary had ordered the motor, Tom wasn't at all surprised. He realised he'd been waiting for just such a thing to happen since she arrived back at Downton a few days ago.

She maintained her poise, the perfect embodiment of the earl's daughter, as he handed her into the car, very conscious of Thomas' eagle eyes on them from the doorway.

'We're bound for Thirsk today if you please, Branson,' she said formally as he slid into the driver's seat.

'Right you are, milady,' he replied, starting the car.

Halfway down the drive, he looked at her in the mirror. 'Are we really going to Thirsk?'

'Yes, I have a few errands to run, but then I thought perhaps we might go for a walk in the woods together,' she said almost shyly.

'A walk?''

'Yes. We rarely get to do anything like that, and I had such a lovely time the last time we did it,' Mary replied, suddenly fearful that he might say no. She watched his eyes in the mirror, sagging with relief when she saw his familiar eye crinkles appear.

'A walk it is, then.'

The walk through the woods was lovely. The bright day and crisp air made for a refreshing change after the noise and smells of the capital. And walking with her arm through Tom's made Mary feel like all the worries that plagued her had lifted.

'Why is it, do you think, that I always feel so much more at ease and happy when I'm with you?' she wondered aloud. 'It's like all the noise in my head quietens and fades away when we're together.'

Tom smiled as he strolled along beside her. 'Maybe because I don't expect anything of you.'

She glanced sideways at him. 'Don't you?'

'No.'

'And you think other people do?'

He shrugged. 'Maybe. Or maybe you just think they do.'

'What does that mean?' Mary asked, puzzled.

'Well, with your parents, I think you feel you have to be the perfect daughter for them.'

Mary gave a small bitter laugh. 'I hardly think I'm that.'

'No, but you put pressure on yourself because you think you should be.'

She was silent for a moment, considering that. 'Hmm, yes, you could be right.'

'With Lady Sybil, you're the big sister, trying to steer her right. And with Lady Edith, it's always daggers drawn between you two, so you're always on edge with her, looking for the slight or the angle.'

Mary turned her head to squint at him, surprised by the observations. 'Am I?'

Tom slanted a look in her direction. 'You know you are.'

'Hmm, you're quite the connoisseur of the Crawley family,' Mary said, turning over what he'd said in her mind.

'Well, I have all of you in the back of the car at some point, separately or together in different permutations. I can't help but notice things,' Tom said, equably.

'So, do you think my parents don't expect me to be the perfect daughter?' she asked, pursuing what he'd said.

'I think nobody's perfect, and they know that.'

'So, you think I should stop trying to be perfect?'

'I think you shouldn't be so hard on yourself when you think you've failed at being the perfect daughter. They love you. That much is obvious. They don't expect you to be perfect, so why should you?'

Mary came to a stop, thinking about that. Tom halted beside her, turning towards her.

'But things are expected of me,' she said, quietly. 'Everybody seems to have expectations of me.'

He remained silent, gazing at her.

'Granny expects me to follow her lead. Mama expects me to do as I'm told. Papa expects me to accept Matthew is his heir and not me. Edith expects me to be the worst version of myself. Sybil expects me to be the best version of myself. Society expects me to be perfect. Everyone expects me to do my duty and marry well. Even Carson expects me to be better than everyone else. Sometimes, I find it all just so exhausting, Tom.'

He put his hand over hers where it lay on his forearm. 'Then maybe the lesson is to not be what everyone expects you to be.'

'But how can I do that?'

'Just let it all go and simply be you.'

She let out a sigh. 'I'm not sure I know who I am if I'm not trying to live up to everyone's expectations.'

'I know who you are,' he said softly, stroking his thumb along her hand.

'Do you?'

'Yes.'

'And who am I?' she asked, curiously.

'You're Mary. You're brave and stubborn, honest and complicated, strong and vulnerable. You're so many things, Mary. And you don't have to be anything other than who you are and who you want to be.'

She gazed at him, pulling her lip between her teeth. 'Is that how you see me?'

'Yes. But that's not only how I see you; I see so many other things in you, too.'

'Like what?'

'You're thoughtful and kind – ' he stopped as Mary huffed out a noise. 'What?'

'I'm not kind. Nor am I particularly thoughtful.'

'Yes, you are. Aren't you the woman who found a way to meet me at the fair when you knew I was disappointed that you couldn't accept my invitation?'

'Well, yes, but – '

'Aren't you the woman who gave me her pot of honey because she wanted me to have a reminder of our time together at the fair?'

Mary ducked her head self-consciously, her eyes fixed on him, a small smile playing on her lips.

He lifted his hand, stroking his finger down her cheek. 'Aren't you the woman who found a way to get not just one but two letters to me when I thought I wouldn't see or hear from you for a month?'

'You really do see me differently from other people, don't you?' she said in wonder.

'I see my Mary,' he said, dipping his head under the brim of her hat to press a soft kiss to her lips. 'The woman I've fallen in love with.'

Mary stared at him, an intoxicating flood of emotion washing through her at his words. She stepped forward and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that made her heart trip faster and faster.

'Can we go back to the car now?' she asked when they pulled apart, Tom smiling at her show of affection.

'Do you want to go home already?' he asked, surprised that she was cutting their time together short.

'No, I don't. I want to curl up on the back seat with you and let you kiss me silly,' she murmured, leaning in to snatch another kiss.

He let out a soft chuckle, pleased to have been wrong in his assumptions. 'All right then. You've talked me into it.'

Tom reclined on the back seat of the car, running his hand gently back and forth up and down Mary's back as she lay against him.

She tilted her head up for another slow, lazy kiss, relishing being able to spend time with him, just the two of them lying in each other's arms, trading kisses.

'Have I told you lately how glad I am you're back?' Tom murmured between kisses. 'I thought I'd have to wait another week before I could kiss you again and now look at us.'

'I almost waltzed Mama around the room when she said we could come home early. I thought about sending you a telegram straight away to tell you, but then I came to my senses.'

'Hmm, yes, me getting a telegram from you would definitely have raised a few eyebrows,' Tom agreed, curling his fingers under her chin as he kissed her again.

'And when I thought about it, I knew you'd find out anyway. Carson would tell you,' she muttered, partly distracted by the softness of his lips on hers.

'Uh huh. He was quite pleased himself about your early return to Downton.'

'I thought about you all the time while I was away,' she confessed, suddenly unable to keep that to herself.

'Did you?'

'Yes, to the extent that I spent a good half hour trying to remember the exact colour of your livery,' she smiled, tapping the front of his tunic.

Tom chuckled. 'Well, that's not quite as romantic as trying to remember the exact shade of my eyes, but I appreciate the sentiment.'

'Oh, I did that as well. That took me a sight longer because you have so many different blues and greens in your eyes,' Mary said, rising further up to look at his eyes. 'You have very arresting eyes.'

'Do I, indeed?' he said with a smile, smoothing back an escaping tendril of hair.

'Yes, you do.'

She leaned forward and kissed him again, thrilling to the small noise of pleasure he made.

'You know, there is something I want to talk to you about. Something I had a lot of time to think about when I was away. All those endless, lonely nights,' she said as she drew back, sounding a little hesitant.

'Oh, yes? And what's that then?' Tom asked, noting her hesitation and wondering what she was about to say.

Mary took a deep breath. 'I want to talk to you about us making love.'

He gazed steadily at her, giving himself time to absorb the sudden jolt in his chest her words provoked. 'Do you?'

She nodded. 'Like I said, I've been giving it a lot of thought.'

'And what have you been thinking?'

'That I want it to happen.'

He continued to look at her, saying nothing, waiting for her to continue.

'I love you, Tom, I really do.'

'I know. And I love you too.'

'That's why I want it to happen, why I want to take that step.'

He linked his fingers with hers, thinking about what he was going to say before he said it.

'It's a big step, Mary.'

'I know.'

He chewed his lip weighing up his next words. 'Would it be something you would have wanted to do if it hadn't been for… that man?

Mary gazed at him, turning his question over in her mind. 'Maybe not,' she finally said, being honest about it.

'So, maybe we should think about it in that way,' Tom said, gently. 'Take him and what he did out of the equation and think about what you would have done if things had been different.'

Mary pursed her lips considering that and then shook her head. 'No, I don't think we should. I don't think we can. It happened. Neither of us can change that, no matter how much we might wish we could.'

'But would you have even considered going to bed with someone before you were married in the usual run of things? I'm not sure you would have,' he persisted.

Mary pushed herself further upright, looking into his eyes. 'No, I probably wouldn't have. But then if he hadn't done what he'd done, it's unlikely I would have wanted to.'

'What do you mean?' Tom asked, wanting to follow her train of thought.

'Well, you and I wouldn't be here together now, would we? We'd never have spent the time together that we did, so we would never have fallen in love. We certainly wouldn't be talking about making love with each other. Would we?'

'No, I suppose we wouldn't,' Tom said, realising that was completely true.

'And however it happened, I am no longer a virgin. I won't be a virgin on my wedding night, whether you and I make love or not,' Mary continued. 'So, I can't take it out of the equation because what happened changed everything.'

He nodded, seeing her point.

'And there's something that's been bothering me,' she said, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

'What's that?'

She looked up, meeting his eyes. 'I don't want him to be my first. I mean, I know technically he was, but I want to forget about that man, pretend that never happened. He didn't love me. But you do. You'll take care of me; I know you will.'

Tom nodded, stroking his fingers over hers again. 'Of course, I will.'

'So, if you and I make love, I will be able to think of you as my first lover. Because you will be – because you're my first love,' she said, feeling almost shy about telling him that.

Tom gazed at her and then cupped her cheek, drawing her in for another long, slow, tender kiss.

'And there is another reason I want you to take me to bed,' she said, looking up at him coyly through her lashes when the kiss ended.

'Yes?' he said, a teasing smile on his face.

'I want to do it. I want to be intimate with you.'

Tom grinned, pulling her in for another kiss.

When they broke apart, she looked at him, anxious for him to say something. 'So, what do you think?'

'I think I'm flattered that you want me to be your first lover,' he said with an affectionate smile.

'But…' she said, nervous that he was going to say no as he had done on the two occasions she'd tried to seduce him into taking her to bed.

'But we can't just rush into this without thinking it through,' he said, his voice gentle.

Mary sighed, feeling deflated. 'You mean you don't want to do it.'

'No, I didn't say that,' he said, shaking his head.

'You didn't say you want to do it, though, did you?' she pointed out, an edge of disappointment and a little resentment creeping into her voice. 'Why not? Do you not find me attractive enough to want to take me to bed?'

Tom shook his head again, his hand cradling her face. 'Oh, Mary, I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. I couldn't be more attracted to you if I tried. There's nothing I'd love more than to take you to bed and show you how much I want you, how wonderful sex can be.'

'Then why won't you?' she cried in frustration. 'You just keep saying no!'

'I'm not saying no. I just think we need to talk about it first, to make sure we do things properly. We need to be careful. We can't get carried away and just do it. We can't risk a baby, sweetheart. You know that. The last thing you need is to get pregnant,' he said, running his hand soothingly up and down her back again. 'If you think the rumours about you and that man are bad, can you imagine how much they'd gossip if they found out you were pregnant by your father's chauffeur?'

'Yes, I know that. I'm not stupid,' Mary responded, her irritation coming down a notch or two as he made his case for giving the matter proper thought.

'I know you're not.'

'Pamu – he said something that night,' Mary said, remembering something. 'He said he would pull out before he finished.'

Tom tried not to frown at her mention of that brute's name. 'The withdrawal method. That's the – that's what he was talking about.'

'Well, couldn't we do that?' Mary asked, hoping she'd hit on a solution.

Tom shook his head. 'No. It's too risky.'

'Why?'

'Because I might not be able to control myself or I might not withdraw in time or we might simply get carried away because it feels too good.'

Mary smiled cheekily, running her finger down his chest. 'Oh, that sounds rather lovely, getting carried away because it feels too good.'

'Yes, but it won't do us any good if it fails as a method, though, will it?' Tom pointed out.

'No, I suppose not,' she said, reluctantly.

'And it's entirely possible that we will get carried away, so you'll understand why I need to make sure I do everything I can to prevent any chance of me getting you pregnant,' he said, appealing to her sensible side.

'Well, that's easy. I can drink more of your tea,' she said, seeing an instant solution to the problem.

He shook his head. 'No, that's not a contraceptive. It won't stop you from getting pregnant. And I'm not putting you through all that just so I can make love to you.'

'Then what do other people do? I'm sure not every couple that makes love is married and willing to risk a baby. What will stop me from getting pregnant? Surely there must be something,' Mary said, a frown on her face.

'There are things I can wear… on my… my thing. They would stop my seed from getting inside you,' Tom confirmed, suddenly feeling self-conscious about having this conversation.

Mary's face lit up. 'Is there? Then we should get some of those things. Where do you get them from?'

'A chemist. But they are expensive.'

Mary shrugged. 'So? I have money.'

'No, I won't take your money,' he said, shaking his head firmly. 'I will save up to buy some if that's what you want.'

'It is what I want. But I don't see why you won't let me give you the money for them,' Mary said, pouting a little.

'Because it's my responsibility to do right by you.'

'Isn't it my responsibility, too?' she argued. 'Wouldn't I be doing it for me, too? I'm the one pushing you to make love to me.'

'I want to make love to you, Mary. Believe me, I really do, but I do feel that getting the contraceptives should be down to me.'

'Well, I couldn't go and buy them, obviously, but I still don't see why I can't give you the money for them,' Mary repeated, stubbornly.

'Because I want to be able to take care of you. Please allow me to do that,' Tom said insistently, locking eyes with her.

'How long will it take you to save up for them?' Mary asked, still feeling a little put out by his refusal to let her pay for the contraceptives.

'I'm not sure. Maybe a few months.'

'A few months?' she echoed in dismay.

'Yes. Maybe a bit sooner.'

'But I'm ready now,' she pouted. 'I want to do it as soon as we can. I don't want to wait that long.'

'Well, maybe there are some things we could try to do before we go the whole way,' Tom said softly, smiling at her in a way that made her stomach flip.

'Like what?' Mary asked, immediately intrigued.

He shrugged. 'Maybe we could try kissing each other's skin, touching each other. Maybe even undressing each other bit by bit,' he said, desire stirring within him as he voiced each possibility.

Mary smiled, pressing the length of her body against his. 'Oh, that all sounds rather wonderful. I'd rather like to see you without your shirt on again.'

Tom smiled back at her, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. 'Would you?'

'Absolutely. I'd also like to kiss your chest again. Without you stopping me this time,' she said, raising a suggestive eyebrow. 'I rather enjoyed kissing your chest before. And maybe I could kiss more of your skin.'

'Hmm, maybe you could,' Tom replied, a small hitch in his breath betraying how thinking about that was affecting him.

'And then maybe you could kiss my chest, too,' she whispered, stretching up to press a kiss just under his jaw. 'I'm sure that would be lovely too.'

'Oh, I'm absolutely convinced that would be lovely,' Tom murmured, trying not to think about that too much while she lay in his arms, cradled against his body. 'Kissing any part of your skin will be exquisite.'

'Would it?' she asked, teasingly.

Tom picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto her palm. 'Yes, it would.'

Keeping his eyes on her, he kissed each of her fingers in turn and then kissed across the back of her hand, trailing his lips to her wrist. He turned it over, kissing the soft skin of the inside of her wrist, his lips on her pulse point.

'Oh,' Mary whispered, butterflies shaking loose inside her as he grinned at her and then licked delicately at her wrist.

She shivered, wishing it was summer and she wasn't wearing a long-sleeved blouse and cardigan, wishing he could kiss his way up her arm and over her shoulder until he reached her neck.

'Oh, that's lovely,' she murmured, her eyes wide as she watched him kiss her wrist again. 'Promise me that the next time we're at the cottage, you'll do more of that.'

'I promise,' he vowed as he continued to press soft, gentle kisses onto the thin, delicate skin of her wrist.

Mary felt heat unfurling inside her as she watched him, and then she reached out, cupping his cheek and drawing his attention back up to her face.

'Kiss me, Tom,' she said, urgently. 'Please kiss me.'

He let go of her wrist and wrapped his arms around her, and then he dipped his head and kissed her, deep and passionately, both of them sinking into it.

Author's note: I did a small amount of research to see how much condoms would have cost in the early 1910s (the rabbit holes you go down for historical accuracy!), but couldn't find anything definitive. However, until at least the late 19th century, condoms were expensive and unaffordable for most working-class people. Given that this story is set before the First World War, I'm going to go on the working assumption that condoms still weren't cheap, so Tom would have to save to buy them.