Mary forcefully pierced her ears with glimmering earrings. All the while, she was focusing on the letter, the suitor, in front of her, but the noise behind her was all about the man she wanted everyone to forget.
"Why are you so against him?" Sybil asked.
"Aside from the fact he's planning to steal our inheritance?" Mary retorted.
"Honestly," Edith sighed, in her typical pious manner. Her long nose remained buried in a book on industrial law of all things. "Can we stop pretending Cousin Matthew is the villain? He is legally the rightful heir, not you."
"I should be. I will be," Mary teased her hair and glared at her inattentive younger sister in the mirror. "He isn't one of us."
"Cousin Freddy's studying for the bar, and so is Vivian McDonald," Sweet Sybil protested.
"At Lincoln's Inn. Not sitting at a dirty little desk in Ripon. Besides, his father was a doctor."
"Oh no, not a doctor," Edith sarcastically drawled, turning a page.
"What's wrong with doctors? We all need doctors."
"We all need street sweepers and draymen, too. It doesn't mean we have to dine with them," Mary said. She was growing tired of this repeated conversation. She just wanted to reread her letter in peace.
"Whom don't we have to dine with?" Mama asked as she walked into the room, looking as poised and proper as ever.
"Mary thinks Cousin Matthew is beneath her," Edith said, not even bothering to look up from her book at their own mother for more than a moment. Mama looked at her for a second with disappointment before turning to Sybil.
"Sybil, be a dear and fetch my black evening shawl. O'Brien knows which one." With a nod, Sybil rose from the bed and left the room. Then Mama turned to Edith.
"Edith, can you see-"
"I can leave if that is what you want, Mother," Edith said, sighing one last time as she left the room. At the doorway she looked back. "I do hope you give him a chance, Mary. He is a good man."
Mary scoffed and turned back to her vanity. If Edith thought well of a suitor, he was clearly a bad match for her. As the door shut, Mama settled on the bed where Sybil had sat and turned to Mary to speak.
"Glad to catch you alone."
"You've driven the others away."
"Perhaps I have," Mama smiled. "The point is, my dear, I don't want you, any of you, to feel you have to dislike Matthew."
"You dislike the idea of him."
"That was before he came. Now he's here, I don't see any future in it. Not the way things are."
"I don't believe a woman can be forced to give away all her money to a distant cousin of her husband's. Not in the twentieth century. It's too ludicrous for words."
"It's not as simple as that. The money isn't mine anymore. It forms a part of the estate."
"Even so, when a judge hears-"
"For once in your life, will you please just listen?!" Mama suddenly snapped, her calm demeanor fracturing into frustration. Mary stopped her primping, appalled at the gruffness, and listened. "I believe there's an answer which would secure your future and give you a position."
Mary felt her face drain of color. No, she could not mean it. They wouldn't expect her to do it all again. "You can't be serious."
"Just think about it."
"I don't have to think about it! Marry a man who can barely hold his knife like a gentleman?" She couldn't do it again.
"Oh," Mama laughed like this wasn't her entire future on the line, "you exaggerate."
"You're American, you don't understand these things," Mary snapped, jerking on her evening gloves. "Have you mentioned this to Granny? Did she laugh?"
"Why would she? It was her idea."
Mary spun around, shock and horror streaking through her heart and across her face. Granny couldn't have said that. Everyone couldn't have abandoned her cause so readily just because Matthew was a man and a bachelor. "Has everyone agreed to this?"
"Not everyone, but most. Your father likes him, darling. Even Edith is helping."
"Edith?" Mary asked sharply. "And here I thought her entire tantrum was about me marrying for love. Funny, that sentiment doesn't last when it's not with Patrick."
Mama shut down, as she always did when "the incident" was mentioned. What Edith had said that day had sent their parents spinning. Even now, Mama was scrambling to pretend it was all over nothing. "I- I don't think she loved him, not truly."
"That's not what you said at the time. Not that it matters now." No, nothing about Patrick mattered now. Not now that he was dead and gone. Better to pretend he didn't exist. "Now it's all about Matthew and I doubt even Edith would go for him."
"You can't-" Mama was cut off by the door opening a crack and Sybil poking through hesitantly. "What is it darling?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but the car is pulling up now."
"Well," Mary said with one last glance into the mirror. "Let's go have dinner with the solicitor and doctor's wife."
The entirety of dinner went on just as expected. Mindless chatter about what the new "family members" were doing with their time, Granny and Mrs. Crawley fighting, Edith siding more with them then her own family, the rest putting up no fight, and Matthew looking at her all night. His gaze angered her, and yet, it was nothing she hadn't seen before.
As a little girl, she had basked in the admiration of others. As a younger woman, the balls and outings of the seasons had given her a taste for the power as suitor after suitor fell into her orbit and were bewitched by her mere presence. It was addicting.
But that same look was in Patrick's eyes, and all it did was make her want to tear off her own skin. With admiration came want and with want came possession. Mary could get her suitors to do anything she wanted, anything but leave her alone, and Patrick wasn't any suitor.
Patrick was her family's chosen suitor. He was allowed to take her hand and arm, talk to and for her, and generally leave Mary to question if she was the one leading a lovesick puppy around or if she was the dog on a leash. It was torture to see his eyes, so blue and adoring and always watching.
An element of that same obsessed blue was in Matthew's eyes. In his gaze was admiration, interest, the beginnings of want, but also judgement, disappointment, and self-righteousness. Patrick and Edith combined into one hateful gaze that made Mary want to take her soup spoon and carve them out.
"By the way," Papa's voice cut through the pointless battle between Granny and Mrs. Crawley as he looked at Matthew. "If you ever want to ride, just let Lynch know and he'll sort it out for you."
"Oh, Papa," Mary clenched her soup spoon in hand and her teeth in a slight smile. "Cousin Matthew doesn't ride."
"I ride," Matthew argued.
"And do you hunt?" Mary asked lightly, ignoring the desperate looks from Mama.
"No, I don't hunt."
"I dare say there's not much opportunity in Manchester," Granny chuckled, trying to defuse the situation.
"Families like ours are always hunting families," Mary pressed on.
"Not always," Papa cut in, looking at her with confusion. "Billy Skelton won't have them on his land."
"But all the Skeltons are mad."
"Do you hunt?" Matthew asked.
"Occasionally," Mary said, looking into his judging eyes. "I suppose you're more interested in books than country sport."
"I probably am. You'll tell me that's rather unhealthy."
"Not unhealthy. Just… unusual… among our kind of people," Mary stated, watching with something twisting pleasantly in her stomach as the man couldn't seem to find a response. Mrs. Crawley, Papa, and even Granny seemed a bit horrified by the conversation, but Mary hardly cared. They were all in support of this match. Let them see what a disaster it would truly be.
"Unusual as it may be, it's hardly uncommon," a voice cut in. Mary turned to see a dower Edith staring directly at her. "I myself do not hunt and prefer books. Is that a flaw or sign of madness in me?"
"You certainly aren't an example of proper nobility," Mary snapped, feeling her cool slip. "I'm sure you and Cousin Matthew will have many opportunities to discuss books together."
"I do hope so," Edith nodded, ignoring the barb. "What books do you like to read, Matthew?"
"Well, anything, I suppose," Matthew said, looking at Edith instead of her. "Mostly precedent records or research for my cases, I'm afraid. But when I have time I try to read autobiographies or other non fiction."
"I'm more interested in non fiction as well." Edith smiled. "I have been looking into industrial law recently. I had some knowledge due to my interest in the estate, but I never had anyone who could really explain it until now. Do you think we can speak about the basics when you have time?"
"Certainly, but I can only imagine it would be rather dull."
"No, I enjoy it. I have explored other facets of law before, criminal and the like. Although, admittedly part of that was to pick apart the inaccuracies in penny dreadfuls."
"Hardly what I'd imagine a lady of nobility reading," Matthew seemed to almost tease. The air was slowly growing less tense than before. Papa seemed pleased, and Mama was looking at Edith with unusual pride. Pride that usually was Mary's. Even Mrs. Crawley and Granny were trading looks of agreement and relief.
"Well, one can't read text books all the time."
"Still I expected poems, romances, classics."
"I do read some-"
"I have been studying the story of Andromeda, do you know it?" Mary spoke and Matthew instantly turned from Edith to look at her. As it should be.
"Why?"
"Her father was King Cepheus, whose country was being ravaged by storms," Mary smiled as once again the mood of the dining room came down to match her own. "In the end, he decided the only way to appease the gods was to sacrifice his eldest daughter to a hideous sea monster. So, they chained her naked to a rock-"
"Really?" Granny chuckled uncomfortably. "Mary, we'll all need our smelling salts in a minute."
"But the sea monster didn't get her, did he," Matthew asked intently.
"No. Just when it seemed he was the only solution to her father's problems, she was rescued."
"By Perseus."
"That's right," Mary thought of her letter sitting on her vanity. "Perseus, son of a god. Rather more fitting, wouldn't you say?"
"That depends," Matthew's interested blue eyes were so bright, so dangerous as they stared into hers. Not backing down for a moment even as he understood her meaning. "I'd have to know more about the princess and the sea monster in question."
"Quite a good thing then," Edith interrupted, "that the entire tale is just a figment of ancient imaginations. A story told by men who believed the appearance of a thing determined its character and choices. The monster had to have ill intentions, Perseus innately good, and Andromeda
was required to marry who she was told too instead of who she chose. Quite different from today, don't you think Mary?"
"Quite." Mary grit her teeth at Edith's simpering smile on her pinched, plain face.
"I think we shall go through," Mama said, rising from the table followed quickly by the rest of the ladies. Mary was the last to rise from the table, dark eyes locked with pale blue. She stormed out, thinking of her suitor's letter and his, hopefully, non judgemental brown eyes.
A week of condescending looks and infuriating talks with Mama to "be kind to Cousin Matthew", led to another humiliation between Mrs. Crawley and Granny.
"I just don't understand why Papa wants this," Mary huffed, walking with Edith and Sybil down to the motorcar. "Poor Granny. A month ago, these people were strangers. Now she must share her power with the mother and I must marry the son."
"You won't give him a chance though, will you?" Edith said, sighing in disappointment.
"What, marry a sea monster?" Mary snorted, sending Sybil into giggles until Edith gave her a scolding look as well.
"I'm sorry," Sybil said. "We shouldn't laugh, that's so unkind."
"Unkind and untrue," Edith retorted as they descended the staircase. "Neither of you know him. Cousin Matthew is a good man."
"So you have said," Mary said.
Edith sighed again. "You know, you don't have to marry him. No one is forcing you."
"Why Edith, if not me, who would he marry? You certainly don't dislike him as much as I do."
"Perhaps I don't. That hardly means anything."
"Well, it's nothing to me. I have bigger fish to fry."
"What fish?" Sybil asked, all but jumping the final step to the ground door.
"It's none of your concern."
"Come on, who is it?"
"You won't be any wiser, but his name is Evelyn Napier."
"Oh, yes," Edith said, seeming lost in thought. "The Viscount's son. I had almost forgotten about him."
"Who wants an old sea monster when they can have Perseus?" Mary smilled. Rather warm brown eyes to critical blue.
