Garden Party, Haxby, August 23rd, 1913
"Who is that young man?" asked Cora with interest, looking at a tall, handsome brunet clearly trying to charm Mary.
"He is Lady Shackleton's nephew," answered Violet and made a dismissive gesture in response to speculative gleam in her daughter-in-law's eyes. "He is quite useless; I have no idea what she even brought him here for. A younger son without any fortune or prospects of his own to speak off."
"Oh," said Cora, mentally scratching him firmly off the list of possibilities. "A pity. He is quite good-looking."
"All the more reason to keep him away from Mary. We do not want to muddy the waters with undesirable candidates."
xxx
Unaware of the firm dismissal of Henry Talbot by the family council, Matthew was currently busy brooding over him and his clear attempts to woo Mary. From what he could discern, his newest rival was prattling about racing cars, which he dearly hoped was not one of Mary's interests – but still.
Why did she always have to attract so much male attention?
He sighed. He knew why, of course. Wasn't he himself hopelessly attracted to her from the first moment he saw her, with his foot firmly in his mouth?
In the last few weeks, she seemed to finally notice him in a more pleasant way than just as a friendly cousin at best and as a middle class impostor who came to steal her rightful inheritance at worst. In his good moments, he dared to even hope that she started to consider him as one of her suitors. In his bad moments, he was despairing that she would ever deem him worthy enough to be seriously considered.
Their recent conversation about her mother's attempts to marry her off weighed heavily on his mind. He was very well aware that Mary's whole family would be delighted if he was to marry her, middle class origins or not, and that the only reason they seemingly ceased any overt effort on that front was Mary's vehement and obvious dislike of him. He saw speculative looks and significant whispers every time she so much as smiled at him, never mind paid him more attention, and he was royally annoyed by it, finding it more hindrance than help in improving his relationship with her. Mary hated being told what to do. Especially when it concerned being told to marry a man she considered beneath her.
Matthew did not consider himself below Mary. He was well educated, successful in his profession with good prospects for further advancement, and independently affluent, if nowhere near wealthy. He enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle before coming to Downton and had better grasp of the world or politics than quite a lot of toffs he had met since then. The anti-intellectual spirit permeating the aristocratic circles rather shocked him, after being raised in and becoming part of the intellectual elites of Manchester. It seemed to him that quite a lot of them prided themselves so much on their family trees, titles and money simply because they did not possess anything more substantial to boast about. It would be hard to feel inferior to people such as them.
The Crawleys weren't thankfully the worst of the lot – much more benevolent and smarter, if rather conservative in their views, with the glaring exception of Sybil. But he still did not see any reason to feel inferior to them.
He cheered up significantly when he noticed Mary sending Henry Talbot on his merry way and walking towards him with a smile.
Only to be waylaid by Tony Foyle who somehow wrangled an invitation to Haxby after being absent from the neighbourhood for the last decade.
Matthew barely stopped himself from kicking at a stone in petulance and tried to force his scowl into a more neutral expression.
xxx
Mary noticed Matthew's scowl and barely restrained a triumphant smile which threatened to emerge. She was rather hoping a bit of jealousy could go a long way. It would be good to remind Matthew that there were other men who found her interesting and desirable. Maybe it would prompt him into action.
She turned her flirtatious gaze towards Tony.
xxx
"Now, Tony Foyle wouldn't be bad, would he?" asked Cora, noting the newest development with interest. The Dowager pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"No, he would not be. But I rather got my hopes raised by Matthew Crawley. I hope he is not going to disappoint me."
"I am rather fond of Matthew myself, as you well know," said Cora, adjusting her grip on her lace umbrella. It was a really sweltering day. "But you know how unpredictable Mary is. If she doesn't secure him soon, I wouldn't mind her getting settled with Tony. He seems keen enough. I know we invited him in hopes for Edith, but it seems rather unlikely looking at him with Mary."
"We should get Mary settled for many reasons, but it won't hurt that she stops presenting competition to Edith then. She does have unfortunate predilection for gathering all male attention to herself. No wonder Edith hasn't got much interest so far."
Cora sighed.
"Except for Sir Anthony, apparently," she said, pointing discretely towards the couple, again seemingly deep in discussion of something. Knowing Sir Anthony, either farming or country sports, which she didn't think would interest Edith much – but obviously desperate times called for desperate measures from her middle daughter.
"We really have to find her some better options," muttered the Dowager.
xxx
Edith was not interested in better options at the moment. Her conversation with Sir Anthony was once again too interesting for that. She was getting truly mystified why so many people found him dull.
"One of the biggest challenges of keeping peace between nations," he was explaining. "is not letting any nation grow so powerful that they would have clear advantage over another. As long as the balance is kept, war can be avoided, because no country is assured of victory. That's has been the English policy since Vienna congress in 1815 and it has worked for nearly a century."
"But unification of Germany changed the status quo, didn't it?" asked Edith. Sir Anthony beamed at her.
"Precisely! As we were discussing, the Kaiser desires an empire. Prussia won against Austria and then won against France, the German Empire was declared in the Versailles, but this is not enough. They want power, colonies, prestige and recognition, but the world is already divided between England, France and the Dutch, with America taking over influence over former Spanish colonies. Germany tries to fight for small parts of Africa for themselves, but it will be not enough to settle their ambitions."
"They are hungry for power since they were starved for it for so long," mused Edith.
"You have a gift for summing up the situation in one clever phrase, Lady Edith. Yes, indeed. And that's what makes them dangerous."
"But can we do anything to stop them?"
"England is so very aware of the danger that it changed its longstanding policy of avoiding alliances and signed a series of them, including one with France, our centuries old enemy, all in hope of deferring Germany from starting anything which could destroy the balance in Europe for good. The trouble is, it is a double-edged sword, I'm afraid."
"Why?" asked Edith with real interest. Nobody was speaking with her like that. Nobody! Nobody even suspected that such issues would be of interest to her.
"Because Germany has formed alliances of their own and now half of Europe is allied with one side or the other and as the result, we are all in danger of becoming embroiled in a conflict of no interest to us or of no real importance – except we promised our help to somebody."
"You know so much about it all, Sir Anthony!" commented Edith with honest admiration. "Are you involved with the Foreign Office or is it just casual interest?"
Sir Anthony blushed and stammered a bit.
"Ah... Not exactly causal, but not officially involved either... more like... I have some connections, you see, in Germany and Austro-Hungary. Family ties, even. I have studied in Erfurt and in Vienna too, in my youth, and maintained my friendships from that time, and as some of my friends are quite highly placed nowadays, Foreign Office is sometimes asking me to make some informal inquiries on their behalf, when I visit them."
"Isn't it quite unusual, to study abroad?"
"It is, rather, that's why my connections are of some use."
"Then what inspired you to do so in the first place?"
"Curiosity, Lady Edith," Sir Anthony smiled wistfully. "I've always been rather curious about all kinds of possible solutions to all kinds of problems and, while visiting my German relatives on my mother's side, I realised that other nations have sometimes quite different outlook to the English on many of them. So I wished to study their approach to anything from farming to social issues, being familiar with the English one already."
"And was their approach better or worse than the English one?"
"The whole challenge, Lady Edith," said he with another smile. "is that it never is one or the other, but the mix of both."
xxx
Judging that she paid enough attention to Tony to make Matthew well and truly jealous, Mary got rid of him deftly and went in search of the man she was actually interested in. Tony was very decorative, with his dark hair and soulful eyes, but his powers of fascination were unfortunately limited. Just enough to amuse her for the quarter of an hour she gave him.
To her annoyance, Matthew turned out to be more difficult to locate than she expected, but she was anything if not determined. Her determination paid off and she finally found him in Haxby Park's impressive 18th century shrubbery, by all appearances sulking.
"I half suspected that you went home early," she said, raising her eyebrows questioningly. He gave her a dark look, but then sighed and smiled self-deprecatingly.
"Those aristocratic get togethers can get tedious when you barely know anybody present," he answered pleasantly enough. "I just had to remind myself that it doesn't make me entitled to monopolise the company of the very few friends I have here."
"I can introduce you to more people if you want," said Mary, secretly elated that her ploy clearly worked even better than she expected. "But to be honest, quite a lot of them are awfully dull."
"You astonish me," deadpanned Matthew, making her laugh, which seemed to cheer him up in turn.
"Are middle class gatherings only filled with interesting people then?" challenged Mary teasingly, delighted that he didn't take offense and instead teased her right back.
"Of course. How could you doubt it after having such a fantastic sample as Mother and me?"
"Do you assume I don't know anyone else of your background?" asked Mary haughtily.
"I don't know. Do you?"
"Not really," admitted Mary. "I do know some lawyers, but they are younger sons from noble families. And doctor Clarkson is the only doctor I know socially."
Matthew shook his head.
"Well, I did meet my share of scions of noble families at Oxford and even befriended some of them, but I couldn't say I had any special familiarity with your circles either. But to answer your question about middle class gatherings, the answer is yes and no. On the one hand, there are often parties or meetings of people sharing a profession, political views or a common cause, so even if your particular interlocutor is dull or unknown to you, at least you have a topic in common. On the other hand, people are people, regardless of their class. In my opinion you are twice as likely to encounter a fool as you are to share a fascinating conversation at any party."
"Only twice?" asked Mary, raising her eyebrows. "How charitable and optimistic of you!"
They laughed together.
"Are you brave enough to try some of the games again?" inquired Mary, a challenge clear in her eyes.
The mischievous smirk Matthew gave her in return made her heart unexpectedly flutter.
"Certainly," he answered. "In fact, after reading the invitation carefully, I came well prepared."
"How so?"
"I brought my bicycle."
"Oh, no," groaned Mary. "They are going to have all kinds of silly races, aren't they? Most likely Billy's idea."
"So you won't cheer on me if I decide to take part in one?"
"That depends," said Mary. "Are you any good? Because I would gladly cheer on you out of family pride, but only if you have a decent chance to win."
"You're not keen on supporting an underdog then?"
"Not as a rule, no. Unless it's an especially charming one, I guess."
"Well, I cannot say whether I'm charming enough or not," laughed Matthew. "But I am good on a bicycle. I do ride it nearly every day after all, which must give me more experience than most of the competitors."
Mary raised her eyebrows at his self-confidence.
"I feel I have to warn you that some of them take those races deadly seriously. But you win, you have convinced me to cheer on you. Just don't you dare lose and bring eternal shame to the Crawley name!"
"I promise to do my very best, my lady," grinned Matthew, offering Mary his arm. "Shall we go sign up? Maybe we will find a game for you as well?"
xxx
Edith and Sir Anthony were discussing the very same topic, looking at the list of games.
"I would prefer to avoid anything with a risk of getting wet this time around," said Sir Anthony with a smile, which Edith couldn't find anything else but charming.
"Me too!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "Once was more than enough. But there is caller competition, that seems safe enough, and I dare say you are such a gentleman you should ace it."
"Why not?" smiled Sir Anhtony again and signed their names on the list. "Anything else strikes your fancy?"
Edith looked critically at the list.
"Most of the games seem rather rowdy," she commented critically. "Billy must have been involved in the planning. But..."
"Yes, Lady Edith?"
She looked at him shyly.
"There's going to be dancing with Chinese lanterns after dark. Are you planning to stay so long?"
"I haven't planned to..." he said hesitantly and then smiled nervously. "But I would be honoured if you'd agree to partner me for the first dance of the evening."
Edith's eyes shone.
"With greatest pleasure, Sir Anthony!"
xxx
Mary and Matthew took their spot on the starting line of the hat race, Matthew's bicycle at the ready. Mary pointed to the screens set up some distance away.
"I and the other assistants will be waiting there," she explained. "You have to ride your bicycle as fast as you can to reach me and then I hand you the hat and materials to trim it. When you're ready, you're supposed to put it on your head and race back to the start line. But remember – winning the race itself gives you just half of the points. To win the main prize, your hat must be the most fetching of them all. So I hope you have better eye for fashion than your clothes usually indicate."
Her last sentence was spoken with such a charming smirk that he could hardly take offense at it.
"And what is your role as my assistant? Seems a waste of your talents to have you responsible just for handing me things."
Mary's smirk grew predatory.
"Oh, it's more than that. I will be responsible for choosing the trimming materials for you. So you see, you won't be left to flounder on your own when it comes to designing your hat."
"I am sure your assistance will be invaluable."
"Just make sure you put it to good use," ordered Mary, looking at him with a gleam in her eyes. "If you haven't noticed before, I can be rather competitive. And I hate losing."
Matthew felt laughter bubbling in his chest.
"I've always known you are capable of some self-reflection, cousin."
Mary just raised her eyebrows in a playful glare and went to the screens to pick up ribbons, plumes and silk flowers. Matthew noticed Sybil joining her, with Sybil's partner, a thin brunet, taking place with his bike next to him.
"It is an awfully silly game, is it not?" he remarked to Matthew. "But ladies seem to like it."
"Isn't the point of most of those games to be as silly as possible?" answered Matthew amiably. He was rather pleasantly surprised how much fun was to be had at the garden parties of this sort. To be honest, he had been dreading much more dull and stiff affairs when he had first arrived at Downton.
The dark-haired stranger scoffed.
"Damn waste of time and dignity. If Sybil wasn't still such a child at heart, you wouldn't catch me dead taking part in any of it. I'm surprised at Mary though, usually she is not much more enthusiastic about those things than I am."
As Matthew tried to fit this unexpected information with his own experience of Mary's willingness to have fun, the man seemed to recollect that they were not properly introduced and offered his hand to Matthew.
"Larry Grey," he said pleasantly. "My father, Lord Merton, is Mary's godfather, so our families are pretty close. And you are?"
"Matthew Crawley," answered Matthew, shaking his hand. "I'm Mary and Sybil's cousin, although I haven't been aware of it until last year."
Mr Grey's expression soured.
"Ah," he said, his tone implying that Matthew's identity was a very unpleasant surprise. "You're the new heir. From Leeds, yes?"
"Manchester," corrected Matthew, unperturbed. "Great city. Have you ever been?"
Mr Grey gaped at him disbelievingly, but before he could find a retort to it, they were called to take their positions since the race was about to start.
Matthew grasped the handles of his bicycle, his foot ready on the pedal. He felt whole new determination to win this game. He shot forward at the first sound of the signal, his legs pumping with all their might, his grin exhilarated at leaving his rivals behind. He reached Mary in record time.
"I got you some good stuff," she said urgently, handing him a basket. "Make sure you make good use of them!"
"I promise to do my very best," he swore and dived behind the screen.
The basket contained a plain womanly straw hat and a bunch of silk ribbons in Mary's favourite dark blues and reds, three impressive plumes, a handful of small silk flowers, scissors, and a thread with a needle to attach it all to the hat. Matthew reached for the last items with a confident smile, wondering smugly how many of the other men participating in the game had ever mended their own clothes as he had during his university days. He hoped very much than none of them.
His hopes seemed to be warranted when, his head crowned with what he considered quite an impressive hat, he cycled back to the starting line as fast as he could, greeted by a laughing Mary.
"Well?" he asked, grinning himself. "How do you judge my hat trimming talents?"
She laughed even more, her eyes crinkling in genuine mirth.
"Oh, if you ever get bored of the law, you could definitely start a hat making business. Although I am not sure if those are quite your colours."
"You have only yourself to blame if they don't fit me," he answered amiably. "It seems to me that you chose them with yourself in mind."
His rivals were catching up with him, presenting their own hats for the jury. Matthew did feel a bit ridiculous for how much smug he felt at winning the game by a long margin, but he decided it was justified by Mary's triumphant cry and Larry Grey's murderous expression as he threw his own hat to the ground and stomped on it in anger.
He did not remember the last time he had so much fun.
xxx
Caller competition was next, and Sir Anthony started to feel first pangs of stage fright at the prospect of taking part in it. He would never have volunteered if Lady Edith hadn't looked so confident that he would excel in it and gazed at him so sweetly that he had quite lost his head and signed up.
Only to belatedly remember that he abhorred performing in public since he had been a schoolboy.
He sighed, observing a couple of first performers. The lady was sitting on a garden chair, with the gentleman coming over to sit by her, pretending to be a suitor visiting her in a formal drawing room. Marks were awarded for the best deportment and manners and the general tone and interest of the conversation during the five minutes of the visit, and as only one man paid his call at a time the ladies and gentlemen awaiting their turn – to say nothing of the judge – were all agog to hear the conversation. Sir Anthony felt his hands getting sweaty in trepidation.
He suddenly felt a delicate touch on his forearm.
"You will do great," insisted Lady Edith shyly. "You are most gentlemanly of them all."
Sir Anthony gave her a nervous smile in thanks, but before he could form a coherent answer, it was their turn and they were called forward. He gulped hard and straightened his spine. This lovely girl chose him as her partner for this game and had faith in him. He was not going to disappoint her.
To his surprise, the whole thing went easier than he expected. When he focused solely on Lady Edith, sitting primly on her chair, it was easy to greet her formally, take his own chair, and pretending to have tea and scones with her as they talked politely about going to a concert together. Words, so often stuck in his mouth awkwardly while speaking to other people, were flowing freely with her gentle encouragement and what seemed like honest interest in what he had to say. In fact, he lost himself so much in their conversation, that he was sincerely surprised when the judge called the time.
"You did well!" Lady Edith beamed at him, and Sir Anthony found himself smiling shyly back at her. He felt rather proud of himself.
He was still stupefied when it turned out that they did, in fact, win the game.
xxx
Still exuberant from winning the hat race, Mary and Matthew ran to take part in the fancy dancing competition. In this one, it was Mary's turn to take the front stage and Matthew found himself eagerly looking forward to seeing it.
He, along with other gentlemen, was seated in a row of chairs, awaiting the ladies who gathered at the box of props, getting ready for their performance. Soon, they formed a line opposite their partners and, at the signal of the judge, started to dance.
The spectacle, without any music and with all participants dancing a completely different dance, was truly funny, and the audience laughed freely witnessing it. Matthew though could not take his eyes off Mary – Mary, adorned with a bright red feather boa and armed with castanets, her face flushed from exercise and her eyes sparkling, her graceful form perfectly bending and twisting in energetic and sensuous steps of an Andalusian dance. Even without the music, his mind immediately went to the time when he saw Carmen performed and his face heated at associating Mary with the main character of that opera. Yet, looking at her dancing like that, clearly enjoying herself too much to be self-conscious, he felt such a surge of admiration for her he was afraid to think what his own face looked like at the moment. He was leagues beyond any capability to school his features enough to hide his feelings.
The dance ended, and while Matthew correctly identified Mary's dance as the cachucha, he realised he had no idea how Mary's performance fared against the other competitors – he never looked at them once.
He was not at all surprised though that she had won.
xxx
The falling summer twilight was met with lighting of numerous Chinese lanterns all over Haxby Park's extensive gardens, making it look magical like a fairy land. Edith, led by Sir Anthony to the dancing floor set up in the middle of the lawn, couldn't remember a more marvellous evening. Even her coming out ball came short in comparison.
"You must excuse me if I forget my steps," said Sir Anthony bashfully as they heard first strings of a waltz. "I'm afraid I am out of practice."
"Haven't you danced with Lady Strallan?" she asked and immediately regretted her question at the painful expression of his face.
"Not in the last years," he said regretfully. "Her illness... We did not have many opportunities."
"I'm sorry," she apologised sincerely, truly sorry for causing him pain. "I have not realised that she's been ill for so long. I didn't want to bring up painful memories."
"You shouldn't be sorry," protested Sir Anthony earnestly. "It's such a relief to be able to talk about Maud with somebody... Normally I would have been delighted at any mention of her. It's just that she loved dancing so much, even though she wasn't so very graceful, nowhere close to how you are – in fact, she was a bit clumsy, but she always laughed it off."
Edith smiled, elated that he found her dancing graceful, and that his face lightened up again, despite her blunder.
She also noted with pleasure that he was not at all a clumsy dancer himself.
xxx
Mary and Matthew approached the dance floor much later, after he took part in an exuberant bicycle race through the dark gardens, with Chinese lanterns attached to bicycles' handles. He did not win that one, but he performed credibly, and Mary still felt exhilarated herself from cheering him on with more enthusiasm that she ever thought herself capable of.
"What about it?" he asked, offering her his hand, his features so handsome in the colourful lights that Mary found herself quite dizzy for a moment and extremely annoyed with herself for being so silly.
"Do you still have strength to dance after that race?" she asked, raising her eyebrows doubtfully. Matthew grinned confidently in response and Mary thought resentfully that it was really unfair how adorable he looked.
"With such a beautiful partner in front of me, I feel I'm strong enough to dance whole night."
"That's rather presumptive of you," pointed out Mary, accepting his hand and feeling a thrill when his arm went around her back. "To assume that I would spend the night dancing with you. Somebody else may ask me, after all."
"Yes," said Matthew, his voice getting lower and husky and Mary had to remind herself to breathe. "But we were such great partners for all those games we won. Would be a shame to part now, when the party is so close to ending, wouldn't it?"
"I did have fun today," admitted Mary, striving for her usual composure and noting at the same time that she loved the way he smelled. "Maybe I should grant you at least one more dance in thanks."
"I don't think just one dance would be enough," said Matthew, his blue eyes so close to her she felt she could get lost in them. "But I will take however many you grant me."
They danced three times before the Crawley family departed.