Gardens, Downton Abbey, August 17th, 1913
Mary heard someone approaching and, raising her eyes from her book, was happy to discover it was Matthew. She smiled brilliantly at him without consciously deciding to do so.
"Hello. What are you doing here?"
"I'm in search of your father. Carson thought he was outside," answered Matthew, settling himself on the bench next to Mary.
Unlikely, since Mary was very certain that Papa was firmly entrenched at this desk. So either Matthew was lying to have a pretext to search for her or Carson was more of an ally to her plans that she realised. Either worked for her.
"He's in the library. What is it?"
"Nothing much. I've had an enquiry about one of the farms."
"Oh," she accepted this, uninterested but friendly.
"So, what's new at the big house?"
Mary shrugged.
"Not much. We are all resting after the garden party. Mama is basking in the apparent success it was and hoping Lady Russell won't outdo her next Saturday with hers. And of course she is bemoaning the spectacle I and Edith managed to make of ourselves," she rolled her eyes.
"Has anyone seen us climbing that tree?" asked Matthew with some alarm.
"No, nothing like that. But we came back with some grass stains on our clothes and somebody might have thought something," said Mary in mock horror.
"Edith and Sir Anthony came back drenched through. I would think some grass stains are mild in comparison."
"I would think so as well, but in Mama's eyes we were all equally guilty of drawing unwanted attention to ourselves and a grave breach of decorum," muttered Mary resentfully, then sighed. "She didn't used to be so strict about such things. I remember her as much more relaxed and fun. But I think the stress of having two daughters out, with the third soon to follow, is getting to her."
"She does have a point though," acknowledged Matthew with a trace of guilt in his voice. "We should have been a bit more careful. I wouldn't want to do anything to compromise your reputation."
Mary refrained from telling him that it was much too late for that already.
"We haven't done anything wrong," she said instead. "It was a game. And, as you pointed out, we weren't the only ones who met with a bit of mishap and definitely not the ones with the worst one. Imagine us ending up in the stream!"
Matthew did and had to shift on the bench a bit in response to the most indecent image in his head. A change of subjects was probably the most prudent choice of action.
"What are your plans for the week?" he asked, dearly hoping he managed to hide his discomfort.
"Nothing much, until the garden party at Haxby. I intend to take advantage of the weather and take Diamond out as often as possible."
"Would you ever come out with me?" he asked, echoing his own words from long ago. "Or aren't we friends enough for that?"
Mary's eyes met his intense gaze with a bold look of her own.
"We most definitely are, I hope," she said smoothly, then her lips turned slightly into a teasing smirk. "And I should finally give you a chance to prove that your fabled riding skills do, in fact, exist."
Matthew's head bent towards hers unconsciously.
"I will be very glad to prove myself to you."
For a moment, the tension between them was palpable. Mary's eyes travelled to Matthew's lips seemingly out of their own volition, and she noticed his doing the same with hers.
He broke it off first, averting his gaze and clearing his throat.
"It would have to be around five though, after I am back from work, unless we wait until the weekend. Won't it be too late for you?"
"Not at all," answered Mary, forcing herself to come back to her senses as well. "Five o'clock is fine. It should leave us plenty of time to have a nice ride before I have to get ready for dinner."
"Then how about Wednesday? I will have Molesley to check my riding clothes for any mending or replacements necessary. While I do, in fact, ride, it's true that it's been quite a long time since I did it last."
"Then let's hope you haven't forgotten how, after all," smiled Mary teasingly and they made their goodbyes.
It was only when Mary reached her bedroom to dress for dinner that she realised she did not think of the bet once while making plans with him.
She was just genuinely looking forward to spending time with Matthew Crawley.
Drawing room, Downton Abbey, August 19th, 1913
Wednesday seemed to be the day for romantic pursuits, since it was also the day Sir Anthony arrived to take Edith for the promised drive in his new car.
"Thank you for allowing me to take Lady Edith for a spin, Lady Grantham," he said politely to Cora. "I've rather taken to driving myself and I have to keep finding destinations to justify it."
"What kind of car is it?" asked Mary politely. She was already dressed in her riding habit and rather impatiently waiting for the clock to strike five, but her manners were too much ingrained into her to neglect them completely. Even if the man in front of her was Edith's suitor.
"It's an open Rolls-Royce, Lady Mary. Would you like to come with us?" he asked with equal politeness, not noticing Edith's horror at the thought.
As much as Mary would love to torture her sister by playing a third wheel on their outing, she had plans of her own.
"How kind. But, alas, not today. I'm meeting Cousin Matthew for a ride in fifteen minutes. But thank you, Sir Anthony. Do ask me again."
Her smile grew wider at Edith's glare.
Driving around in Yorkshire, August 19th, 1913
The summer afternoon was perfect for a drive. Edith had never travelled like this before, in the front seat of the car besides the driver, and she found out she loved the experience.
Sir Anthony's conversation was also adding to her pleasure. It turned out he did actually have many more interests besides farming and shooting.
"The Kaiser is such a mercurial figure, one minute the warlord, the next a lovelorn poet," he spoke with more animation than she really had occasion to see in him before.
"But a poet in need of an empire."
"That's very good. 'A poet in need of an empire.' My late wife always used to say..." he stopped, reminding himself that there was no topic more dull or inappropriate to choose on a drive with a young lady than droning about one's late wife.
"What did Lady Strallan say?" asked Edith calmly.
"Never mind."
"But I should like to hear it," she insisted.
"Really? Would you, really?"
She nodded. He obviously felt very touched, as she intended him to be. She thrilled at the knowledge that she was able to affect him so. Another novel experience for her.
"She used to say Kaiser Bill loved uniforms and medals but never really connected them with fighting."
He laughed and Edith laughed too. She noted that he must have been used to talking about international politics with his late wife and that was probably why he chose to speak about it with her. She couldn't imagine Papa ever discussing such things with either Mama or any of his daughters. Sir Anthony obviously did not share Papa's conviction that this was not a suitable topic for delicate female sensibilities.
She wondered suddenly what kind of woman Lady Strallan must have been. Clearly less conventional that she imagined her to be.
"What was she like?" she asked with interest.
"Maud? Oh, she was awfully funny. Some people couldn't see it, but she was..." answered Sir Anthony, his eyes misty. "And clever, too. She could see to the heart of a matter multiple men spent hours discussing and pondering. She was quite curious about every new invention under the sun. You should have seen her when we went to Exhibition Universelle in Paris in 1899! She didn't know where to look, everything excited her so."
"I would have loved to see it," said Edith wistfully, making a note that Lady Strallan might indeed be a harder act to follow than she expected.
"You haven't been?"
"No," Edith shook her head regretfully. "My parents went for the opening. Maybe they would have taken us later, but Papa departed to South Africa for the war not long after. Although I don't know, Papa did say we were a bit too young anyway."
"How old were you?" asked Sir Anthony, once again reminded forcefully about their age difference.
"Six, I'm afraid," admitted Edith, correctly reading Sir Anthony's chagrined expression and not liking it one bit. "But you know, Mama took us all to New York next year after and it was the most fascinating journey! Have you ever been to America?"
"I'm ashamed to confess I've never been," answered Sir Anthony, easing back into their lively conversation. "I travelled extensively through Europe, but never crossed the ocean. What has struck you the most during this journey?"
Edith smiled and jumped into describing the fascinating land behind the Atlantic.
Drawing room, Downton Abbey, August 19th, 1913
Cora pounced on Mary as soon as Sir Anthony and Edith left the room.
"Why didn't you tell me that you're meeting Matthew today?"
"Didn't I?" asked Mary insincerely. "I thought I did. It must have slipped my mind."
Cora looked at her with pure disbelief but decided to let it slide in the view of the bigger picture.
"I am truly glad you are making an effort with him. Does it mean you came to your senses?"
Mary bristled instantly.
"Whatever do you mean?"
"You know very well, Mary," sighed Cora with irritation. "Taking care of your future."
Mary rolled her eyes.
"It's just a ride, Mama."
"Well, since you've made it clear that you are not going to marry Sir Anthony, I will remind you that you must marry someone. And with rumours circulating about you in London, you have to marry soon, before it gets out of hand. I will remind you again, since you don't seem to take it seriously enough: you are damaged goods now and if the word gets around, and you're not already married, every door in London will be slammed in your face."
"I do realise that!" cried out Mary. "But I told you before, you must leave me to manage my own affairs."
"You don't seem so opposed to Matthew as before," continued Cora, ignoring her daughter's outburst. "And he does seem pretty keen on you. If you are at all sensible, you should grab this chance before he learns the truth about you and it passes."
"You would have me lie to him about that?" asked Mary in disbelief.
"Whyever not?" asked Cora coldly. "Do you truly expect any man to marry you knowing what you've done?"
"But wouldn't he know anyway, after we're married?"
"It's not so easy to tell. You wouldn't be the first bride hiding a secret of this kind. But the point is, even if he learns the truth after you're married, you will be married. Your future will be secured."
"On a lie or by trapping him in a marriage he might not want anymore," said Mary bitterly. "What a promising premises for a happy union."
"Well, if it isn't, it's all your own fault!" cried Cora, losing patience with her obstinate daughter. "So do whatever you can to make the best of it, before you drag the whole family into ruin with you!"
Downton Abbey, August 19th, 1913
"I am sorry, Matthew" Mary said, slashing the air with angry flicks of her horse whip as they made their way to the stables. "I am in a beastly mood today. Maybe it would be better for you if you stayed away. You might have noticed once or twice, but I can be rather unpleasant when annoyed."
The last was said with a significant look which made him smile despite his concern for her.
"Oh, I might have had an inkling, Andromeda," he raised his eyebrows at her and delighted in succeeding at making her laugh in response.
"Exactly," she admitted with self-deprecating smile, then frowned again, her whip slashing the air again.
"So you should know well enough that it would be wisest to run for the hills and keep away until I'm ready to be civil to innocent bystanders."
He looked at her intently.
"Should I take from this that it wasn't me who got you into this mood?"
Mary huffed in irritation.
"No. It was Mama."
Before Matthew could inquire further, they reached the stables. Lynch had Diamond ready for Mary and picked a gentle horse for Matthew, who had been open about his lack of any recent experience. Mary took note however that he got into the saddle with apparent ease of long practice, confirming his word that he used to do it regularly once upon a time.
"Mary," he ventured when they trotted slowly away from the stable yard. "Are you being pushed to marry me?"
Mary's head whipped towards him, her eyes wide in shock.
"Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Well, you said that was what they did with Patrick. And since you don't seem to dislike me so much as before, I was wondering if they saw a reason to do something similar."
Mary sighed, visibly fighting with herself.
"Yes," she admitted tersely in the end. "They all would have been delighted. Papa already considers you a son he never had, Granny thought it a nice solution to a problem of the entail from before she even set her eyes on you, and Mama! She is simply insufferable!"
Matthew felt a mix of anger and dread gnawing at his insides after getting his suspicions confirmed.
"But that's not why you decided to become friends with me?" he asked carefully.
The immediate horror on Mary's face and a vehement "No!" eased his worry a bit.
"No, Matthew, truly!" she assured him, seemingly worried herself that he could think so. "Our friendship is totally separate from it all. But you see, it just put fuel on the fire. They were bad enough when they thought it was a hopeless business, but now they see a real chance and Mama especially pounced on it."
"And you still find the idea preposterous?" He asked delicately, trying desperately to hide the pain it caused him.
"I find it preposterous that they don't care about my happiness at all!" exclaimed Mary passionately. "They don't care what I feel or think, just that they get to marry me off! Do you realise that on the night of salty pudding Mama brought Sir Anthony in hopes she could make a match of it between us? I was ordered to do anything in my power to entice him. Sir Anthony of all people!"
Matthew looked at her in horror. Sir Anthony was nice, but he could hardly imagine two less suited people. Then the timing of events made him think.
"This was the first dinner you've been nice to me," he said slowly, watching her carefully. "Desperate times, desperate measures?"
His heart clenched, when he noticed Mary's reddened cheeks and guilty expression.
"Not exactly. I've already started thawing towards you and realising my resentment of you was childish and undeserved. But I won't deny that the contrast between you and Sir Anthony was very stark that night or that I didn't want to show Mama in no uncertain terms that I won't be forced to marry a man sitting next to me at dinner."
"But it backfired and now she wants to force you to marry me?"
"Yes," he noted her hands squeezing the reins painfully. "And Matthew, the awful thing is that it has nothing to do with you. She doesn't care that you're nice or kind or clever or that I like you - she just wants to solve a problem. And the problem is that I'm 22, I had four seasons in London and yet I am still unmarried. So I should do a sensible thing and throw myself at the first man who might want me, before it's too late. It's all the same to her whether it would be Sir Anthony or you, as long as I am finally married and off her hands."
Matthew felt a wave of anger coursing through his veins at the thought.
"You know that I would never marry you if I wasn't convinced that this is what you and you alone truly want, don't you?" he asked.
"Of course!" Mary answered immediately and then looked at him imploringly. "And you know that I would never marry a man, any man, unless it was my decision? Whatever pressure Mama puts on me?"
Matthew smiled at her, feeling unexpectedly relieved to hear it. Of course Mary would not allow herself to be pushed at anybody against her will. Not his feisty Andromeda. If she suddenly decided to be friends with him, it was because she wanted it.
"I have to admit I never expected to find myself casted as Mr Collins when I first came here," he said teasingly, hoping to lighten her mood.
To his delight, it worked and Mary laughed in that honest, surprised laugh of hers which he heard but rarely and was determined to hear as often as possible.
"Oh, haven't you? Even though you came fully prepared to have one of the daughters pushed at you?"
Matthew reddened.
"I'm still regretting you heard that remark," he said sheepishly.
Mary raised her eyebrows.
"Even though you were right?"
"It got us on the wrong foot from the beginning and I do regret that."
Mary rolled her eyes.
"There was no way for us to start on the right foot, Matthew. I was much too resentful at your very existence."
"But you aren't anymore?" probed Matthew carefully.
"Of course not. I told you I realised I was being childish and unfair. If I should resent anyone it should be my grandfather for writing the entail as he did and my father for never even attempting to fight it. And Mama, of course, for her particular way of dealing with it all."
Her face darkened again for a moment, but then she looked up at him with a spark in her eyes.
"So don't go running to propose to my best friend quite yet. I assure you she is less nice than Charlotte Lucas, even if similarly pragmatic where marriage is concerned."
Matthew laughed.
"I think you can safely assume I have no intention to propose to any of your friends, not that you introduced me to any of them. And no Lady Catherine to order me to marry either."
"Good!" said Mary with a satisfied smirk which went straight to his heart. And other places, better left unmentioned. "Now, Mr Crawley, how about a race?"
"I accept your challenge, Lady Mary," he bowed with a cheeky smile and they were off.