Matthew Crawley was everything Edith expected him to be. He was poised, determined, and so very handsome. Mary would be a lucky woman one day. But he was also terrible at first impressions.
Edith cringed through every introduction and every attempt at small talk with Mary. Matthew was obviously already interested in her. It was almost as obvious as Mary's own blatant dislike. Together it only led to stilted attempts at conversation that ended in an intrigued but irritated Matthew, hostile Mary, and Edith on edge. Even at dinner, Matthew left his poor mother as the only new Crawley with any hope of approval. However, it seemed as though she was failing too, despite Edith's own efforts.
"Do you think you'll enjoy village life?" Robert asked. "It will be very quiet after life in the city."
"Even Manchester." The Dowager Countess was not helping matters either.
"I'm sure I'll find something to keep me busy." Cousin Isobel said.
"There is plenty to do if you know where to look," Edith replied. "Sybil and I, and Mary too, help with a number of charitable ventures in the community. And Sybil has taken an interest in helping at the hospital recently."
"Sybil?" Cora asked questioningly, turning to look at her youngest.
"Edie got me into it," Sybil admitted. "It's fascinating work. I enjoy it."
"What sort of hospital is it? How many beds?" Isobel asked eagerly. Almost leaning across the table in her excitement.
"Well, it-'' It seemed even the unflappable Dowager was taken back by her enthusiasm. "It isn't really a hospital."
"Don't let Doctor Clarkson hear you," Robert huffed in amusement. "He thinks it's second only to St. Thomas's."
"It's a cottage hospital, of course," Cora said. "But it's quite well equipped."
"Who pays for it?" Isobel asked guilelessly. Even the servants visibly huffed in disapproval. Isobel was too excited to notice, and Matthew seemed not to be paying enough attention as he and Mary traded glares. Edith couldn't help but sigh. She had tried.
"Oh, good," the Dowager glowered. "Let's talk about money."
"My father gave the building and the endowment to run it. In a way," Robert explained, "he set it up as his own memorial."
"How splendid," Cousin Isobel smiled.
"I'm sure they could find a place for you, if you ask Dr. Clarkson." Edith said, keeping an eye on Thomas as he circled the table. "If he accepts the little help Sybil and I can do, I don't doubt he would appreciate your efforts even more."
"Yes, seeing as how your husband worked as a doctor," the Dowager said, pronouncing the words "worked" and "doctor" somewhere between swears and words not in her own language.
Across the table, Thomas leaned down further than necessary and patronizing told Matthew the basics of etiquette in this setting. It said something about Isobel and Matthew's poor first impressions, and the house's own hostility, that Carson did not scold him for it. Mary in particular looked gleeful at the slight as Matthew bluntly dismissed Thomas. He was only making enemies instead of friends.
"You'll soon get used to the way things are done here," Mary said seemingly graciously. Not that it was hard for anyone present to read the truth, but few would say so.
"If you mean that I'm accustomed to a very different life from this, then that is true," Matthew replied.
"What will you do with your time?" Sybil asked him.
"I've got a job in Ripon. I said I'll start tomorrow."
"A job?" Robert said incredulously, sounding very much like his mother.
"In a partnership. You might have heard of it, Havel and Carter. They need someone who handles industrial law, I'm glad to say. Although, I'm afraid most of it will be wills and conveyancing."
"Splendid," Edith said, looking around to see that the only other people that thought so seemed to be Matthew and Cousin Isobel."I know it's not near the same, but I'm glad you didn't have to give up your profession to come to us."
"You do know I mean to involve you in running the estate?" Robert asked.
"Oh, don't worry," Matthew said, not at all understanding. "There are plenty of hours in the day. And, of course, I'll have the weekend."
"We'll discuss this later. We mustn't bore the ladies," Robert said. "Well, all the ladies except Edith."
Matthew glanced up from his plate to look at Edith for the first time since they began dinner. His striking blue eyes seemed surprised, although she didn't know why. "You are involved with the estate?"
"Not with decisions, but I have been interested in it since I was a little girl. I make rounds and speak to tenants and advise my father. When he lets me that is."
"She is halfway to being my estate keeper," Robert said proudly. "I listen to her advice almost as I do my own, and the tenants like her and I more for it."
"Extraordinary," Matthew said, smiling for the first time since his forced platitudes during introductions.
"Perhaps you can walk with me on my rounds when you find the time," Edith invited, reaching for a glass to hide her blooming blush at his praise. "I can show you around the village, and I usually do one on the weekend as well so it won't interfere with your schedule."
"What-" the Dowager Countess said puzzled, "what is a weekend?"
By the time Isobel and Matthew were on their way back to Crawley House, Edith was almost entirely certain that the only ones who had a good evening were Robert and Sybil. Sybil, because she quite enjoyed watching the verbal sparring match between the Dowager and new Cousin Isobel. Robert, because he got to hold Matthew back and speak to him in the dinning room after the ladies went through. Apparently, Matthew made a much better impression when speaking business one on one versus pleasantries in a crowd. However, this did not help him with Cora, the Dowager, or Mary.
Cora and the Dowager were still determined to not have Matthew as the heir, but their efforts were continuing to meet dead ends. As much as they didn't like the middle class man, they didn't hate him either. He was an unfortunate fact that they planned to handle to their advantage one way or another, and schemes in case the entail could not be broken were already brewing.
Mary disliked him on the principle that he was stealing her fortune. A fortune she still believed wholeheartedly would be hers despite pleas for a little less overconfidence from Cora. Matthew was completely unnecessary to Mary, a waste of her precious time. Why focus on him when rich, titled suitors waited to speak to the prospective heiress? Poor Matthew, but Edith couldn't help but feel somewhat grateful. It gave her the opportunity to befriend Matthew without opposition. An opportunity she seized with both hands.
"Thank you, Lady Edith, Mr. Crawley," Mr. Carter said, looking at them with something between awkwardness and awe. "You didn't have to do that."
"Of course," Edith smiled, whipping off her hands on her handkerchief. "But there was no point allowing you to do it all when we were just passing by."
"Still, it was very kind of you," the farmer smiled, watching as the heir to his county place the last crate on the stack.
"It was no trouble," Matthew nodded, coming to stand by her side as the last of the middle aged farmer's goods were loaded in his wagon.
"Do tell Mrs. Carter that I wish her well, and that little Amelia gets over that cough."
"I will, my lady," Mr Carter waved as he climbed up into his cart. "Have a good day now."
"Good day!" Edith called. They stood watching as the man rattled with his wagon down the road. Edith hoped he made it hope alright. A storm was coming, and the chill of a fall rain was all it would take for Mr. Carter to come down with something. And with Amelia already sick-
"I didn't expect this of you when you offered to show me the estate," Matthew said, brushing grim from his jacket and hands. Edith turned to look up at him questioningly.
"What do you mean?"
"This," Matthew motioned with his hand to the distant cart. "Helping people. Talking to everyone in town. I expected a walking tour and instead I got… Well, I got you."
Edith felt the heat invade her cheeks. She began fiddling with her gloves and fought against nerves to hold her head high even as she turned away. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have pulled you into so much."
"No! That's not what I mean. I have enjoyed it," Matthew said as he reached out for her. He gently turned them both back to the village and offered his arm. "I just didn't expect a noble lady to mingle so well with the plebeians."
"They're all just people; people I have done this with since I was a little girl," Edith replied, hesitantly taking his arm and beginning to walk back down cobbled streets.
"You care about them."
"Of course I do. They are our tenants, our responsibility. It's not the dark ages. We are hardly masters and serfs, and we shouldn't treat each other like it. As land owners, we have a responsibility to listen to their concerns and opinions and run the estate in a way that will help everyone."
"They love you for it."
"They respect my father so-"
"No," Matthew said firmly. "Everyone we met had nothing but good things to say about you. Not just your father, but you. I don't even know how you can keep all their names straight, and they clearly admire you for that and all the work you do for them."
"Well- Well, thank you. I'm sure you will eventually become this way as well."
"I doubt it," Matthew snorted before pausing thoughtfully. "Does Mary feel so committed to the estate?"
"I- well," Edith began. "In a way she does. She isn't as connected to the village or people, but she loves Downton."
"It must be hard for her to love it so and not be heiress then."
"Under that logic, I should be bawling over it every day and night. We all love Downton, my father, Mary, myself, everyone, but that does not change anything. All we can do is help teach you to love and care for it as we do, and hope in time you feel the same and let us stay until we find a new home to love just as much."
"Is that really a concern? That I wouldn't let you stay?" Matthew asked with a furrowed brow. Edith shook her head even as she waved to Mrs. Governs in the town square.
"It's not just you. It was a concern with… with Patrick as well. I'm afraid Sense and Sensibility has more truth to it than most consider."
"Wasn't Patrick your cousin?"
"Distant cousin, but yes. No man wants a gaggle of female relatives in his home indefinitely. Mother and Grandmother were plotting to marry him and Mary to fix that, just as they do with you, but it was not to be."
"I am sorry," Matthew said sincerely. He hesitated a moment before looking down at her. "Do you- do you think you could tell me more about him?"
"Maybe. Give it time."
They walked on in silence for a while, Edith periodically brightening from her sudden sadness to smile and wave to the townsfolk who greeted her warmly. The late September breeze scattered dry leaves along the street. The Crawley house was coming into view over the tops of orange maples.
"How is your mother doing at the hospital?" Edith eventually asked as they approached.
"Good. She's glad to be working again. She is currently in battle with your grandmother."
"Over Mr. Drake," Edith nodded. "I heard about that from Sybil. Poor man. Do let your mother know I support her method."
"Do you?"
"Such drastic actions are not always necessary, but, under such circumstances, it's hard not to recognize their merit. The Drakes should be offered the choice to take the risk at least."
"Well, why don't you come in and tell her yourself," Matthew said as they came to the gate of Crawley House.
"Oh, I couldn't possibly-"
"Please do. Mother would love to see you. You are her second favorite new relation after all."
"Second favorite? Does she enjoy sparing with my grandmother so much?"
"Not that she will admit to. No, it's Sybil that wins this race."
"I'm not surprised. Of the younger Crawley ladies to like, Sybil is the best choice."
"Not Mary? Or you?" Matthew asked as he led Edith to the door.
"Women like Sybil best. Men like Mary. It's the way of things," Edith nodded as they stepped up to the doorway.
"You can't think-" Matthew was interrupted by Molesley who opened the door.
"Sir, Miss," he greeted, offering to take their coats. Matthew passed by him into the house, stubbornly ignoring him.
"Ah, there you are, dear. I was hoping you'd be home in time. Oh, and hello Edith," Isobel said, her tight look softening a little at the sight of her.
"Good day, Isobel. Thank you Molesley," Edith smiled, allowing him to help her out of her coat.
"In time for what?" Matthew asked, shrugging off his own coat and hanging it on the rack.
"I've been paid the complement of a visit," Isobel said, leading them into the sitting room. Edith felt her smile freeze on her face seeing the room's occupants.
"Mother, Grandmother," Edith greeted stiffly.
"Hello," Matthew nodded.
"Good afternoon, Cousin Matthew, Edith," Cora greeted happily.
"Afternoon," the Dowager chorused much too cheerily.
"We were just saying how charming this room is now," Cora said, her smile the polite, sickly sweet armor Edith recognized from many receptions of uninvited dinner guests.
"Mh, it always seemed rather dark when my mother-in-law lived here," the Dowager said. "But then, she made everything rather dark."
"What are you doing in the village, Edith dear?" Cora asked.
"I was on my rounds. I offered to let Matthew join me to introduce him to the estate."
"And quite a good introduction it was," Matthew nodded only to be meekly interrupted by Molesley offering him a baked good.
"Sir?"
"No, thank you." He said briskly. Mosely noticeably wilted.
"I'll take one Mosely," Edith said gently, nodding towards an apple pastry.
"Very good, my lady." Molesey seemed somewhat pleased, a bit of his pride back, but all the same he turned to look at his new master next. "And a cup of tea, for either of you?"
"It's alright," Matthew blustered. "I-"
"I would love a cup," Edith cut in, glaring at an unrepentant Matthew.
"I'm afraid we must be going," Cora stood before her daughter had the chance to sit. "Edith, come too, I have some items to discuss with you."
"I- yes, mother," Edith sighed but agreed, casting one last disparaging look at Matthew as he took a tea cake from Molesley's previously offered tray.
"Well, I am sorry to see you go," Cousin Isobel smiled, looking directly at Edith. "Perhaps another time?"
"Yes, another time," Cora said. "And you'll think about it?"
"Of course," Isobel mirrored, glancing at her son pouring his own tea.
"Molesley," the Dowager suddenly said, "do take my cup please."
"Yes, your ladyship."
"Your father must be glad to have you home again."
"He is, your ladyship."
"Good. Have a good day."
Suddenly, hasty good days and good afternoons were uttered, and Edith found herself sitting opposite of Cora and the Dowager in the motor car. Two integrators and their captive.
"Edith dear," Cora said, "you seem to be growing close to Cousin Matthew these last few weeks." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes, we have. Father wants him involved in estate matters."
"Yes, of course," Cora dismissed. "But do you talk about anything other than the estate? It isn't good for a lady to talk about too much business."
"We have mostly talked about the estate, business and people and such. And this situation as a whole."
"Any particular people? The family? Did he ask at all about Mary?" Ah, so that was the root of all this. Edith leaned back in her seat, no longer on edge.
"Yes, he did. He seemed interested in her viewpoint of the whole matter. I believe he wants to get to know her more."
"Splendid," the Dowager said. "Now to get Mary to see reason."
"Thank you for being so good to him, darling," Cora smiled. "It's good to get to know them. Please let us know if there's anything we can do to help."
Edith nodded and turned to look out the window at the shape of Downton growing in the distance. "Anything you wish me to do or not to do."
"No, dear. I think you are doing just fine. Just… perhaps try to speak more favorably of your sister. We do want Mary and Cousin Matthew to get along, for all our sakes, for Mary."
Edith sighed. She doubted she would have any effect on the matter. The fate of those two was inevitable and already begun. All the same, Edith turned back to the assessing Dowager and worried Cora and said what they wanted to hear.
"Of course, for Mary."