Since the arrival of the presence of the phantoms that have been haunting the halls of the Abbey, a heavy silence fell upon the estate. One evening, as a storm thrashed ominously outside, Lady Mary lay awake, alone, as Tom and Matthew were in London overnight due to business for the estate.
Her recent encounter with the otherworldly swirled in her mind like the howling wind against the windows. The air in her room felt charged, as if she was anticipating Mr. Pamuk's inevitable return. Her eyes fixed on the dancing shadows on the ceiling from the fire, Mary felt a profound sense of dread filling the room...and then, amidst a roar of thunder, a new voice whispered through the corridors, a voice that was neither Mr. Pamuk's nor Lavinia's gentle murmur.
This voice was filled with sorrow and an ancient longing, echoing with pain, but she didn't know this voice. This voice had feelings of darker truths, of hidden secrets buried deep within the walls of the Abbey. "They must know...before it's too late," the voice sobbed, sending shivers down Mary's spine.
Compelled by an unseen force, Mary found herself rising from her bed, following the voice as it led her to the entrance of the library. As she slowly turned the gilded door knob to enter the room, a gust of wind blew in from behind her, so fierce and sudden it shook her hair into a wild dance, yet calmed itself to gracefully, and eerily push open the door to the vast, dark leather scented room.
Mary, very unsettled, also became full of a sort of rage and confusion, and a bit of denial as to what was going on. This caused a burst of courage in Mary as she took a firm step into the library making a tight fist in one hand and holding a lantern at eye level in the other. With a steadfast stride, she moved to turn on the lamp. But just as she was going to turn it on a ghostly form, clad in the garb of another era appeared.
She was a maid, but not one Mary had ever laid eyes on before. She was in very old, tattered, and bloody clothes. Mary became instantly rooted in her spot, dropping the lantern, not breaking it, but putting it out, leaving her in the dark with the visceral figure.
The girl spoke in a voice that trembled with grief: "I have brought you here to witness the truth," her eyes piercing through Mary. "A truth that has been concealed by time and shadows. Your legacy is not only one of supposed honor, but unspeakable sorrow. We, the spirits who linger, have suffered and are bound to these walls. But some spirits here seethe with an undying rage, their wrath festering in the shadows, forever devoted to plaguing the souls of the Downton living, and altering their souls when they finally grab hold of them."
As lightning cracked, the library shimmered for a split moment revealing glimpses of the past: scenes of abuse, untold truths, and the heavy toll of keeping up appearances at any cost. Mary, now more gripped with fear, listened as the girl recounted her own demise - a tragic story, her spirit unable to find peace.
Her name was Greta and she was a housemaid for The IV Earl of Grantham in 1792. The Earl was a bit of a ruffian. As Violet mentioned, he collected horses...and women. He took a particular liking to Greta, and with his powerful title and position, Greta did not, or rather could not say no to his advances as much as she desired to do so as he was quite rough and unfeeling.
Eventually, Greta was going to have a baby. Horrified and alone, harboring her dreadful reality, she wanted to leave Downton and take her soon-to-be child as far away as she could. The Earl did not know she was pregnant as she feared what he would do, and as the Earl would not let her turn in her resignation, she decided to slip away under the cover of night.
One night in the wee hours, Greta raced down the back servants staircase, holding her breath and clutching her small trunk. As soon as she made it to the last few stairs at the foot of the kitchen and servants hall, she finally felt weight lifting off her chest and could breathe again. She knew she wouldn't be getting a reference, but she did have a farmer whom she loved, and thought maybe they could start a life together. Just as she started to feel at ease, there was a large clatter, followed by muffled cursing.
Greta, paralyzed, debated whether to tiptoe back up the stairs, or hide in the shadows until the mysterious character had left. She knew the Earl was away overnight with Her Ladyship at Broughton Castle and knew this might be her only chance...so with all her courage, she continued.
As she paced down the hallway to the back door, she passed the kitchen, not knowing that was where the clatter had come from. Suddenly, a candle flicker appeared in the kitchen, it grew brighter as the flame got closer to the doorway which she was passing and suddenly in the dim light, their eyes locked, a mere inches apart...it was the Earle. He was evidently very drunk, holding a bottle of wine and standing over a broken one on the floor.
Why was he not at Broughton? More importantly, why was he in the kitchen? In her 3 years of being a housemaid at Downton, the Earle had never gone below stairs and Lord knows he had the entitlement to ring for any servant at anytime of night to get him anything he desired. She guessed he couldn't wait even one mere moment to get more drink. She instantly felt overcome with disgust by him.
He smirked at her, thinking she had heard him come home early and voluntarily went to find him. But as he looked down and saw her trunk. His face and posture instantly changed. He remained silent, took a sip of his wine and said..."Oh my dear Greta, where do you think you're going? Aren't I so good to you?" He leaned forward and reached his free hand out to touch her cheek to which she took a step back. His face and demeanor grew angry in the span of an instant and Greta knew it was time.
The door was right there.
She threw her trunk at him and began to run down the hall as fast as she could, but he grabbed her by her hair long strawberry blonde hair and her arm, restraining her just as she got to the door.
He whispered threats in her ear, his hot breath on her face and neck, the foul smell of port, his sweat dripping down on her. She began to plead and beg and admitted that she was with child hoping one of two outcomes would become a reality.
She hoped that maybe the Earl did truly hold her in a semi-high regard and might let her go away somewhere to have the child, and perhaps provide them with a stipend to live on, which she would likely refuse, but it would be the best chance for a new life without him. Or, that he wouldn't want a bastard child with a housemaid no matter how dirty fingered he really was, so hopefully he would just let her go altogether with nothing.
In the end, he killed her, right there in the boot room. He couldn't risk the Crawley name being tainted.
Mary dropped to the floor. A million thoughts racing in her head, was she really talking to a ghost? What other dark secrets does her family hold? Why is this all happening now?
Greta's voice grew soft, "a new peril threatens to unearth the darkness that lies within Downton's stone. Evil stirs once more, some of us seek to claim the living and their souls if we can't have our own." The air grew colder, and the shadows in the corners of the room deepened, swirling with menacing silhouettes.
As the vision faded and Greta's form dissolved, Mary was left alone on the floor in the dark with the weight of past centuries weighing on her shoulders. The storm outside had calmed, but the storm within her had now just begun.
The next morning, Robert walked into the dining room and to his surprise, found Mary there, not in her room waiting for her breakfast tray, but sitting at the table looking very disheveled and still in her nightgown.
"My darling girl" he exclaimed and ran over to her and knelt on the ground, putting one hand on her shoulder. Mary was ever so slightly rocking back and forth, her hands stiffly gripping her thighs, eyes widened with a fixed stare on the floor.
"Papa..." she murmured shakily, "I'm terrified." Her eyes began to well with tears. "What is it!? What is the mat-..." He paused as Tom walked in.
Tom, equally concerned, rushed to Mary's aid. He had just gotten back to Downton off the half past nine, Matthew was at Crawley House visiting Isobel.
Both Tom and Mary at this time were unaware that they both had witnessed ghostly encounters at Downton. Mary was tongue tied, she didn't know what to say, she didn't want to sound ridiculous.
After a few moments of silence, she looked up at her father and Tom as two tears streamed down her cheek and silently uttered, "I fear...well...there is something...i saw something..."
The hairs on Tom's neck stood straight up and his body washed with goose bumps, he knew exactly what she was referring to. He knelt down next to Mary and Robert, putting his hand on hers and said "I have too."
Mary whipped her head around to Tom and saw the fear and truth building in his eyes, feeling his hand start to shake, she put hers on top of his and said "Papa, we're going for a walk."
Robert, terribly confused, stood there flabbergasted. As Mary and Tom started out of the dining room he yelled "but Mary, you're not even dressed!"
