Despite her natural distrust of horses, Edith didn't mind riding at times. In the spring, gently trotting over the grounds when the trees were topped with the first brush of green and the rolling hills were dotted with wildflowers was quite a beautiful experience. Cantering in a cacophonous horde in the mid November muck and cold was not that. It was uncomfortable and unpleasant, and her companion was not helping despite his efforts.
Unlike Mary believed, Matthew was actually a very good rider. He maintained perfect control of his unfamiliar horse, guiding it with a skilled ease she envied. He always found the smoothest route, always weaved masterfully between the throng of other mounts, and always offered her a helping hand or kind word of advice. So many, unwanted, words of advice.
"If you speed up, the ride would be smoother," Matthew said, slowing beside Edith from his steady gallop to a matching choppy trot.
"Thank you," Edith glared at the beasts, "but I would rather like to stay on the saddle. Or at least not fall off at full speed."
"It would help," Matthew added, his horse merrily skipping around her own mount as if he had any right to be happy on a day like this.
"Let me suffer through my choices, Matthew," Edith sulked. "You are saying nothing Father hasn't said to me a hundred times before. If you wanted to ride with a real horsewoman, I would suggest finding Mary."
"Yes," Matthew said, slowing and looking around the crowd. "I wonder how Mary's getting on. Did her suitor make it in time?"
"Yes, Mr. Napier and his friend, Mr. Pamuk, both made it before we set off. I had Mr. Napier promise to look out for her." Edith breathed in relief as she pulled her horse to a gentle stop under a bare white oak.
"Good. I just wonder…" Matthew trailed off, blue eyes peering in the distance. Edith turned slightly in her saddle to catch a glimpse of Mary laughing between Napier and Pamuk. "Will she stay with the hunt the whole day?"
"You know Mary, she likes to be in at the kill." Edith said, looking between the group and Matthew. His eyes had been searching for Mary all day. Edith sighed. "Go to her."
"What?" Matthew's head snapped around to look at her.
"You have kept me company long enough. Go spend time with Mary. I'm sure she will enjoy the attention."
"But I promised you-"
"You promised to come if I did as well, that was all. No promise will be broken if you leave my side for the last half of the hunt. Now go. I am just going to take a minute before I join the rest."
"If you're sure," Matthew hesitated.
"I am," Edith nodded. "Go join the real hunt, Matthew. I will still be here when you are done."
Matthew nodded, looking at her for another moment before turning his horse around and riding in the direction of Mary. Edith sighed as she watched him leave. She hoped he would have a better time by Mary's side then he did hers. Perhaps he could even run interference between her and Pamuk.
Pamuk, Edith thought of his name with the same vitriol most would say a swear. What was she supposed to do with him? It was the first true event of the story that she could have any strong effect on. She couldn't stop the Titanic sinking, and thus had no control over Matthew coming to Downton, but the Pamuk scandal was a very different affair. It was one night, one action, that led to years of heartbreak and shame for Mary. On one hand, if she just didn't perform the spiteful, short sighted actions of her television show counterpart much of the damage would be lessened. No scandal, no story, she just had to keep the information of tonight from getting out. But was that enough?
The show treated this night as a shameful tarnishing of Mary. A misguided flame of passionate lust that burned all it touched. A romance leading to a tragic death and traumatized lover by fate and their own choices, but the truth seemed far from that romantic. Even in the show, Pamuk had blackmailed his way into Mary's bedchambers. He threatened her with ruin if she refused him or screamed for aid, and generally pushed her to give in to him despite her protests and fear. Even if it was all cushioned with pretty words of love and admiration, it was not a choice. Even though she gave into him, even if in some way she found him and the acts appealing, it was hardly true consent. It was dubious consent at best and at worst rape that left the victim blaming herself and publicly shunned for another's monstrous actions. But how could she stop it?
Edith would love to go to her father, demanding that he throw the man from their home before he even stepped into the front hall, but on what grounds? Her best angle would be period typical racism, but that was not going to work on her father or aligned with her own morals. She didn't have a good enough relationship with Mary for her to take a warning seriously, and Pamuk was hardly going to turn his attention to her over Mary. So what could she do?
Edith groaned and spurred her horse on to rejoin the hunt. She would have to plan on the road, the group was getting too far ahead. Perhaps more opportunities would appear tonight at dinner. Worse case, she would hide the body for Mary if she needed too.
The redcoats of the hunters were easy to spot among the bare trees. The torn up muddy ground peppered with paw prints and horse hooves was even easier to follow, and her gelding naturally followed the trail after them. Edith finally rejoined the last group of riders as they began crossing the final bridge before, mercifully, the road turned back North towards the house. God willing, in an hour or two this would be over.
"Lady Edith," a voice called over the sound of hooves clomping.
"Mr. Napier," Edith replied. "Did my sister leave you alone or did you leave her?"
"I assure you, your sister is far from alone," Napier grimaced. "Mr. Crawley found us and I volunteered to ride ahead to see the state of the road."
"Wet, I suspect, like all of us," Edith shuddered.
"Are you alone?" Napier asked.
"Yes, I should have had Lynch follow me. We all know who needs the help between Mary and myself. She is the horsewoman."
"She is a natural," Napier said, looking over the bridge where Edith saw Mary, Matthew, and Pamuk were riding through the mud and jumping a fence rather than take the main road. Even windswept and dirty, Mary still looked wonderful. "Would you like me to ride with you?"
"What?"
"Do you want me to ride with you to your father or one of the stable hands? I would hate to leave a lady in distress."
"Oh, no, you don't have to do that. You came here to be with Mary."
"In part, but she won't miss me for a moment. And I rather think your safety is more important than that."
"If you're sure," Edith said hesitantly. "I would greatly appreciate it, Mr. Napier."
"Then let's be off," Napier nodded, beginning to ride a touch faster across the bridge. Edith reluctantly nudged her horse in a matching canter, and the two pressed forward down the trail. It would be good to have his company, if only for a short time before his attention returned to her sister.
Nearly three hours later, a tired and sore Edith limped her way to the doors of Downton. Around her, the air was filled with jubilantion at a successful hunt and high hopes for the luncheon to come. Edith just wanted a bath.
"Home is the hunter's home from the hill," Father crowed, looking very satisfied over the gathered crowd. Good, he deserved the fun after a full year of stressors.
Speaking of stressors, Edith's own soon came stumbling in as well. Mary, the shining center, was laughing gaily on Pamuk's arm. Matthew trailed at her other side, looking at her adoringly, while Napier followed behind. All looked happy and disheveled to different, corresponding degrees. Mary and Pamuk the muddiest and happiest of all.
"Heavens," Father cried at the sight of them, "you have been through the wars."
"Papa," Mary introduced, "this is Mr. Pamuk. My father, Lord Grantham."
"How do you do, my lord?" Pamuk bowed.
"Did you have a good day?" Father asked.
"Couldn't have been better."
"And you remember, Mr. Napier," Mary continued, pulling the man forward just as Cora came to her husband's side.
"Of course," Cora smiled. "How are you?"
"Well enough," Napier nodded, reaching out to take Cora's hand. "So kind of you to have us, Lady Grantham."
"And this is Mr. Pamuk," Mary continued, again introducing the Turk to their other parent.
"How do you do?" Cora smiled politely.
"My lady," Pamuk smiled, reaching out to kiss the back of her hand.
"I'm so glad you could join us for the hunt, Mr. Pamuk. And Cousin Matthew," Cora turned to the last man. "I was so glad to hear you could come."
"Surprisingly, I'm glad as well," Matthew replied. "Edith convinced me to do it. Did she get back alright?"
"I don't know," Father said, worriedly looking around. Taking a last deep breath, Edith stepped forward after giving her last bit of hunting outerwear to William.
"I'm here."
"Edith! You look a sight better than this lot."
"It's only outward appearance, I assure you. I'm just a bit better at avoiding the mud."
"And the fun," Mary smiled back at her suitors.
"Well, now that we are all here, what would you like?" Father asked, gesturing to the luncheon laid out in the dining room.
"Just baths. We're worn out," Mary said.
"Yes, I think I will do the same," Pamuk nodded.
"Sir," Mr. Carson stepped forward from the shadows towards Pamuk with Thomas in tow. "This is Thomas. He'll be looking after you."
"Erm, your cases are upstairs, Sir, if you'd like to follow me," Thomas gestured to the grand stairway.
"Yes. Splendid," Pamuk nodded, following the younger man to the guest quarters. Edith watched, making a note to speak to Thomas before the night was out. She needed him to know he could speak to her about Pamuk.
"I'll go up as well," Mary said.
"Of course, my dear," Cora said. "Edith, do come too. You both look like you could use some dry clothes."
"Terribly," Edith agreed, but stopped before placing her foot on the stair. She had promised to help Matthew with the nobles. How could she leave him now when luncheon had barely started? "Unless you would rather me stay for luncheon first. I would hate to have you entertain all our guests alone, Father."
"Don't worry about us," Father said. "It's just us gents. We'll get on just fine."
"Indeed," Matthew nodded. "We're all too tired and hungry to do anything else."
"Ha, exactly. Now come into the dining room," Father laughed, leading Matthew and Napier with him. "Mr. Napier, you must tell me how you found the hunt. I hope Mary hasn't left you too exhausted."
"No, not a bit of it." Napier's voice melded in with the talk of other men as they disappeared into the awaiting throng as Cora led Mary and Edith up the stairway.
"Well done, my darling," Cora said softly. "You have all of them smitten. You'll have a steady suitor by tomorrow, I'm sure of it. Maybe even a proposal?"
"Oh, Mama," Mary complained . "It's still much too early for that."
"And why is that? Mr. Napier seems like a good catch."
"Good catches rarely come easily," Edith replied from behind as they crested the top step. "Especially when the fisherwoman in question seems more interested in their guest."
"Mary?"
"It's just a bit of fun," Mary dismissed her mother's concern and sister's criticism. "Men don't like to be chased directly, so let him seeth in jealousy for a while first."
"So, you're flirting with his guest to not make your own interest too obvious?" Edith asked incredulously. "I didn't see any of that tact with the Duke of Crowborough. Maybe you have swung the pendulum too far, and your good catch will slip the hook."
"At least I'm not fishing with no bait," Mary snapped.
"Mary! Edith!" Cora cried. "None of this is acceptable. Mary, it's good to be enigmatic to a degree, but no man likes a girl who is too free with her affections, with him or especially with others. Edith, don't stir up trouble. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, Mother."
"Yes, Mama."
"Now," Cora continued, "I want no more of this. Mary, dress in your scarlet gown tonight. You always look best in red. And Edith, a warm gown on you would compliment it well."
"I am wearing my new teal gown tonight, Mother," Edith said.
"Honestly," Mary tutted, "that color hasn't been in style for evening wear in years."
"I don't care if it is in style. It is my style."
"More fool you. You'll just help me look better for it."
"Girls!" Cora snapped. "Rest, recover your composure, and dress for dinner. I want none of this when the dinner gong sounds."
"Yes, Mama." Mary groused before turning to disappear into her room where Anna surely waited to help her out of her grimy riding gear.
"Yes, Mother," Edith repeated and did the same, hoping at last for some peace and quiet in her peach paradise. Anna would take a good while with Mary which left her some time to wait without help. Or it would if not for the girl laying on her bed.
"Edie!" Sybil cried, jumping up to greet her. "How was it? Did you have a good time?"
"No. It was dreadful. I hated every moment of it."
"You don't mean that," Sybil said sympathetically, coming to Edith's side to help her out of her jacket.
"Oh, dear sweet Bil, I do with my whole heart. I see you had a nice morning though," Edith said enviously, looking at her once orderly stacks of books now displaced due to Sybil's pilfering.
"It was terribly dull," Sybil complained, throwing Edith's removed hat to the vanity. "Mama wouldn't even let me leave to go to the hospital today. Said the weather wasn't nice enough of all things."
"You poor dear, forced to stay inside in the warmth and comfort. I pity you, Bil, I do."
"It can't have been all awful, Edie," Sybil said. "Matthew was there. And Mary."
"Sybil, the day you accept that Mary and I will likely never make each other's day anything other than more awful will be a sad one."
"I just wish you two wouldn't fight so," Sybil sighed, returning to sit on the bed while Edith removed the last few wet pieces before they would truly need Anna's assistance. "But what about Matthew?"
"He was a gentleman, as always, but the men were rather more interested in Mary."
"I'm sorry, Edie."
"There is nothing to be sorry about. This was her hunt. I would have stayed here if I could have." Edith sat at her vanity and began taking out whatever hair pins had been left after Sybil took her hat. The relief of letting her strawberry waves fall was almost as wonderful as getting out of her wet clothes. "But really dear, was your time so awful alone?"
"Not really. I mostly just read your books and notes. You have a number of sales manuals I hadn't read before too. I didn't know you were so interested in machines, Edie."
"It's a new project of mine," Edith explained. "For the Carters. I love all the new inventions, but the farming equipment could have some uses for us at Downton."
"So you plan to convince Papa to get one? For the Carters?"
"No, I've been saving up," Edith said, reaching for her hair brush. "Any luck, I can get one in by the new year, and I can rent it out to the Carters for now. Hopefully, it will show Papa the need for some modernization."
"That's good!" Sybil smiled. "You'll have to tell me more about it. I got some of it, but I couldn't read all your notes. I didn't know you wrote German, Edie."
Edith froze. Her eyes darted from the mirror to her desk strewn with notebooks written in German. Her Crow notebooks and worse. "You tried to read those?"
"Yes, was I not supposed to? I'm sorry, I won't again. Where did you learn German anyway?"
"I-it was from a book," Edith said, turning away quickly to brush through the last tangles in her hair. "It's fine, Sybil. It's not a problem. I've just been on edge today."
"You have been on edge since you found out about this hunt."
"You know I hate hunting, when it's not a fair sport or when it is on horseback."
"Are you sure it's not more than that?"
"No, well, perhaps. I just don't like Mr, Napier's guest, Mr. Pamuk."
"The Turkish ambassador?"
"He's an attaché, but yes."
"Is it because of your politics? Your support of Albania?"
"In part. I also just dislike his… aura. I don't like how he looks at Mary."
"Then we must watch him," Sybil announced. "You should tell Mama or Papa."
"He hasn't done anything. Yet. But I will be watching tonight, and I'll tell them if I notice anything beyond my own feelings. I won't let him do anything."
"You never would, Edie," Sybil nodded. A knock on the door echoed, and in a moment Anna stepped in. It was time to dress in her armor for the evening. Her battle with Kemal Pamuk was about to begin in earnest, and Edith could not afford to lose.