A Scandalous Affair Dublin (5)
26th of July 1919
Anna
Anna sighed as she closed Lady Mary's letter. She carefully looked at the two pictures she had enclosed in the letter. The dress was beautiful and would suit Lady Mary's colouring and figure. It would not be difficult for her to complete the requested task her former mistress put forth. The suit was stylish and modern, though she can't quite imagine the former chauffeur in such finery, looking like a gentleman, her brows furrowed at the thought.
But she was concerned about the second commission Lady Mary had requested, buying Tom shirts. If only she hadn't mentioned Lord Grantham in the letter, she could have bought the shirts no questions asked. The request made her feel hesitant, 'could this request put her position in the house at risk?' Anna thought.
By phrasing the request in opposition to Lord Grantham, her actual employer, it put Anna in ethical quandary. 'I will talk with Mrs Hughes,' Anna decided, feeling a sense of relief at the decision.
Mrs Hughes was the housekeeper at Downton and in charge of all the female staff. It was a moderately quiet part of the day, where the family were involved in their morning activities, the bedrooms had just been cleaned and with no guests present it was a lighter workload than usual.
Anna got up from the sturdy wooden servants table, scratched and scarred from years of use, in the 'servant's hall' and went in search of Mrs Hughes. The high windows letting in summer sunlight, she could see dust motes dancing in the air. Knocking at Mrs Hughes sitting room door, she waited patiently for the woman to answer.
"Come in," Mrs Hughes called.
Anna pushed opened the heavy door, a faint squeak from the hinges could be heard. The room was bright from the overhead light, the room had no natural light of its own, only a high window that overlooked the servant's hall. The fire place was empty, the iron work blacked, ready for a fire, when the weather changed. The room was neat and tidy, a reflection of the occupant. It was a cosy and practical space as required for a housekeeper in such a large house, with many responsibilities.
Mrs Hughes regarded Anna with a curious look in her eyes. "What can I do for you Anna?"
Standing nervously in front of the Housekeeper, fingers tracing the outline of her pocket, where the letter was kept. "I have received a letter from Lady Mary, Mrs Hughes," Anna told the older woman frankly. "She wanted me to buy her a dress from a particular shop in London," Anna begun.
"That doesn't sound very unusual. Is there something strange about this dress?" Mrs Hughes asked, a frown deepening the existing lines on her forehead. Lady Mary would often get Anna to order things for her. The request wasn't unexpected or extraordinary, she was still Lord Grantham's daughter and a member of the family. 'Anna looked uncomfortable,' Mrs Hughes thought as she gave the other woman standing before her a speculative once over.
"No, there is nothing wrong with the dress, it's very pretty. It's just that she asked me to buy things for Mr Branson too," Anna explained. She withdrew the letter, from her former mistress, from her apron pocket. "Here, you best read it and tell me what you think," Anna said holding out the letter to Mrs Hughes.
Mrs Hughes lent forward taking the letter from Anna's hand. The paper was of excellent quality, a rich cream colour, heavy compared to the paper Mrs Hughes would use. It was filled with Lady Mary's elegant writing. Mrs Hughes quickly read the letter, lips pursed, one hand holding her chin.
The letter seemed to Mrs Hughes to be written in Lady Mary's practical style. The only issue she could see was the line that Lady Mary wrote:
'Father has restricted any of my allowance being spent directly on Tom.'
Lady Mary was quite right, if she used her own money she would not be breaking her father's rule. Mrs Hughes was in two minds. Lady Mary was a practical, strong minded woman. None of the reports that Mrs Hughes had heard indicated that Lady Mary was unhappy in her marriage. It seemed perfectly reasonable to her that a wife would buy her husband shirts.
After all Mr Branson, clever chap that he was, probably didn't know much about formal dress shirts, or was uncomfortable buying the quality of shirt Lady Mary expected her husband to wear.
But on the other hand Lord Grantham was their employer and Anna couldn't go against any of his dictates.
"Ahh, I see your predicament," Mrs Hughes sympathised, looking at Anna as she sighed in relief. "What do you think?" Mrs Hughes asked.
"I think Lady Mary wants to buy her husband some new shirts, and doesn't know how to go about it. It's not like she ever had to buy men's clothing before," Anna said in her practical Yorkshire way. "But should I? As his lordship doesn't want her allowance spent on Mr Branson," Anna said, with a pleading look. Looking to Mrs Hughes as head of the female staff for guidance.
This was a pickle, Lord and Lady Grantham took a very poor view of Tom Branson. Mr Carson's view was even lower, he took it as a personal betrayal to him and the Crawley family, that Mr Branson dared to marry one of the Crawley daughters. They seemed to view every communication from Lady Mary in a negative light.
Yet Anna had reported that Lady Edith had been writing to her sister. Surprisingly their correspondence was flowing, the two sisters getting on much more cordially through the written word. Lady Edith informed Anna that Lady Mary seemed to be enjoying her life in Dublin.
Though Carson's and Thomas's gossip indicated a totally different view of the affair, from hearing Lord and Lady Grantham talking about Mary in Dublin. They seemed to think she was having a terrible time of it. They practically accused Tom Branson of stealing Lady Mary's money. And described him as a lazy lay-about sending his wife out to work, while he played at being a novelist.
This didn't sound like the respectful, hardworking young man she had worked with for six years. Mr Branson had shown her his work, his short stories were full of wit and adventure. It seemed to her that these would be the type of stories to sell well. 'There must be some misunderstanding,' she thought, 'to have so many disparate stories. Though the Dowager is firmly of the opinion that Lady Mary is happy in Dublin,' Mrs Hughes knew whose opinion she would trust.
"All right Anna, why don't you make the arrangements to order the dress. That will take weeks to make. I will mention to Lady Grantham that you received a letter from Lady Mary and ask for permission to order the shirts," Mrs Hughes said with a slight nod of the head, firm in her decision.
"Thank you, Mrs Hughes," Anna said with a relieved smile. She left the housekeepers room with a lighter step than when she had entered.
Dinner
"Shirts!" Robert practically shouted at the dinner table, "if it's not bad enough that, that wastrel has my daughter working, he now has her buying his clothes," Robert demanded, the flush in his cheeks noticeable to all those sitting at the dinning room table in Downton.
Cora had just told her husband about Mary's latest letter to their maid Anna. Cora was once again near tears at the thought of Mary married to that man. Mary working to the bone and now buying him clothes. 'Why can't he buy his own clothes?' she thought desolately, holding back tears. She could barely eat the lamb in front of her.
"Really Robert, must you be so dramatic?" Violet asked sharply, a withering look in her eye as she looked at her son. "Mary seems fine in Dublin, her letters to me are full of her social engagement, she is perfectly happy in her life, with no complaints," Violet stated her opinion firmly, throwing a gimlet eye again at her son. She took a sip of wine to calm her annoyance.
"It's quite understandable that a working man like Mr Branson wouldn't have the refinement to purchase the dress-shirts required at the sort of events that Mary and Mr Branson are going to. Lavinia was only telling me last week that Mary was at an art exhibition. It was hosted by Mr Yeats and Lady Gregory," Isobel tried to add a more balanced point of view, smiling warmly at, Robert, Cora, and Violet.
Isobel had started to have dinner once a week with her cousins, giving her son and his new wife some privacy. She had noticed a certain amount of tension between the newly weds. She loved having them in her home, but she was somewhat puzzled, as she had thought before the wedding that Matthew was keen to live in his own house.
"Revolutionaries, you mean. Quite unsuitable for Mary, to be mixing with," Robert stated, he aggressively started to cut the tender lamb on his plate, before spearing the meat with his fork and chewing it angrily. Body tense. Barely tasting the food in his fury.
"It is true, Lady Gregory is terrible snob. Do you know she once had the gall to tell me I wouldn't understand the subtleties of Macbeth, as I did not have an artistic temperament. Me! Mind you she was only twenty-five at the time. If I had been married to Macbeth, the play would have been a damn site shorter, as I would have ensured he was King by the end of the first act. And without all that faffing about with witches," Violet stated, her ire being raised by the long-ago insult by Augusta Gregory.
Isobel looked at her in amazement, 'Violet thought Lady Gregory was a snob?' Isobel thought, trying to stifle the need to laugh at such a bold statement. "I thought you were a Monarchist?" Isobel asked with an innocent air, not wanting to miss the opportunity to twit her friend.
"Yes, of a proper English King. But a Scottish King is hardly a real monarch is he," Violet said with a sniff. Giving her friend a glare, daring her to continue with this conversation.
"Mary's consorting with revolutionaries," Cora gasped, holding one pale hand to her throat, looking in distress.
Violet looked like she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes at such a dramatic proclamation from her daughter-in-law. "Cora, calm yourself, they are the high-born rebels. They just write terrible plays and worse poetry, about Irelands independence," Violet explained acerbically.
"I read some of Mr Branson's poetry, I thought some of it had very nice imagery," Isobel interjected into the conversation. Trying to guide the discussion to more positive topics.
"Poetry, poetry, everyone knows you don't make money from poetry. It's not even the good sort. If it was at least romantic poetry, some poor sap might buy it to impress his girl," Robert sputtered his opinion about Branson's literary career. 'I wish I hadn't let Mama talk me into allowing Mary to marry that bastard. Surely Mary could have weathered the storm with the Crawley name behind her?' Robert thought regretfully.
Isobel sat back in her chair after this proclamation, to allow Carson and Thomas to silently remove the dishes from the table, ready for the dessert course, 'I wonder what Mrs Patmore has prepared for us tonight,' she speculated. Over many years, she had come to love and appreciate her aristocratic family, but really, they were tiresome at times.
She had never cared for Mary, she thought she was the worse kind of snob, cold and supercilious. Totally unsuited for her kind, warm son. She didn't feel any pity for Mary. She had been shocked when she heard of Mary's affair with the Turk. As far as she was concerned Matthew had a lucky escape, and so had Mary. The family had made a patched-up affair of her marriage and saved her from total ruin. Besides, from what she had heard from Lavinia, she was getting on with her life in Dublin.
She couldn't believe her family were making such a fuss over a wife buying her husband some shirts. She personally had bought all of Reginald's under-garments and shirts when they were married. Leaving the choice of his suits to his own conservative tastes, suitable for a renowned surgeon.
The conversation had paused at the table as the servants returned to the dining room with tonight's offering. 'Oh good, ice-cream,' Isobel was delighted when the frosted glass bowl was set before her with a delicate orange ice-cream with curled dark chocolate flakes decorating the dessert. She happily took a spoonful of the cold concoction, enjoying the creamy taste of the orange ice-cream and marvelled at how well the bitter chocolate complemented it.
Everyone at the table were momentarily side tracked from the conversation as they paid homage to the delectable dessert as it deserved.
"I for one will be pleased when the year is up and Mary can divorce that man," Robert said, as he scrapped the last of his dessert from the bowl in front of him.
Isobel noticed Carson straighten up at this news, while Thomas's eyes widened and seemed to gleam at hearing this juicy piece of gossip first. Though neither man betrayed any emotion on their faces. Personally Isobel was shocked to hear Mary was going to divorce her husband. That wasn't the impression she had gotten from Lavinia.
"Mary is going to divorce Mr Branson?" Isobel asked for clarification.
"Oh yes," answered Cora, more brightly than she had sounded thus far this evening. "She just needs to be married for a year and then we can arrange for a quite divorce and she can come home," Cora explains quite happily.
Isabel shared a look with an equally surprised looking Violet.
"I thought you had to have cause to divorce in England?" Isobel ask with a confused look on her face.
"Murray says that she will be able to divorce Branson for unfaithfulness and abandonment. I will have to pay him off of course. But it won't be that difficult with that sort," Robert says confidently.
Isobel now felt alarmed over this scheme. Mr Branson hadn't struck Isobel as a particularly mercenary man.
"Really Robert, you are counting your chickens before the eggs have hatched," said Violet, a slight scowl on her face. "I see nothing from Mary's letters that would indicate that she would agree to this plan," Violet reminded her son.
Everybody had finished their desserts, Thomas and Carson started to clear the table.
"Of course Mary will want a divorce," Cora said, looking baffled at why her mother-in-law would suggest something so preposterous.
"That man is forcing Mary to work and buy him clothes. I can just imagine how humiliated she must feel at these social events she has to attend being with a chauffeur. I can't imagine what he is saying to his social superiors. Does he talk about cars?" Cora said with an anguished look on her face. "Thank goodness they are in Dublin and none of Mary's contemporaries are seeing this," Cora said with a sad shake of her head.
Violet looks in disbelief at her son and daughter. "I thought Branson handled himself well after the wedding. I found his conversation invigorating," said Violet, a high complement from the Dowager indeed. "I wouldn't count on this plan, Mary may have other ideas for her future," Violet warned.
Everyone stood from the table, ready to move to the drawing room.
Cora seemed to ignore every word Violet had just said to her. "I am hoping that when Mary comes home for Christmas, that I will be able to talk her into remaining here, at Downton with her family," Cora said, seeming much cheered from this thought.
"Yes, that's an excellent idea Cora," Robert said. He too seemed in a much better mood contemplating the return of his daughter in December. "Why don't you suggest to Mary that Branson stay in Dublin. Better to have a clean break and all that," Robert suggested to his wife.
Isobel shared a worried look with Violet. Though she was sure it was for different reasons.
Isobel had been struck with a terrible thought, that if Mary got divorced, what would Matthew do? She hoped for her son's sake Mary remained married and living in Dublin.