Daisy frowned as she watched Mrs. Patmore pull some biscuits from the oven, her fingers nervously fooling with the end of a towel. "Why shouldn't he be a lawyer?" she asked.
"Gentlemen don't work, silly, not real gentlemen," O'Brien said, her tone firm but not as biting as it normally was. Anna always found it odd how O'Brien could, seemingly at a drop of a hat, decide that a member of the staff was to be abused or merely lectured. They were never treated friendly, of course, not unless their name was Thomas Barrow and even then Anna wasn't for sure if O'Brien truly liked him or saw him as someone to gossip about. While Thomas could be decent enough at times (though with Mr. Bates' arrival the pendulum had swung from 'able to hold a conversation with' to 'watch out for that sly fox he'll steal the fingers off your hand') O'Brien never seemed to be friendly with anyone. But tonight her ire was directed at Mr. Crawley and Anna was thankful for that; the last thing any of them needed was Daisy having another whimpering fit.
Still, that didn't mean she agreed with O'Brien's comments.
"Don't listen to her Daisy," Anna said, taking a sip of her tea before Mrs. Patmore scolded the easily-flustered girl and got her back to work. Mr. Bates merely looked off to the side, looking to the world as if he weren't paying attention but listening to every word. While he wasn't a smug little snake like Thomas could be Anna had come to realize that Lord Grantham's valet was more cunning and sneaky than most realized. "What do you think Mr. Moseley thinks of him?" Anna asked O'Brien, deciding to reward the lady's maid for her restraint with Daisy by allowing her to gossip.
But it wasn't O'Brien who answered but a newly arrived Thomas, who along with William set down their trays. "That is something I'd like to know."
"And what about you?" O'Brien asked. "What do you think of the lawyer of Grantham?"
"I honestly don't know," Thomas said, surprising them all that he wasn't instantly joining in on snarking about the new arrival. "He's a hard one to read."
"What do you mean?" Mr. Bates asked, finally joining the conversation.
At first Anna was worried that Thomas would just snap back at the valet and that would be the end but Thomas surprised them all by continuing. "The man claims to be a lawyer, yes?"
"You think he isn't?" Anna asked, watching O'Brien perk up at the hint of juicy gossip.
"Oh, he's a lawyer, I'm sure of that. He's got a cagey mind. No, what I mean is… he fits."
"And what is that suppose to mean?" O'Brien asked.
Thomas pursed his lips. "It's like he's been here before. You wouldn't know, as you aren't around for the dinner parties-"
"And I wouldn't want to be," O'Brien stated smugly.
"-but I've served enough people here, especially those who are dining here for the first time. You can always tell."
William quickly nodded. "Yes. They are always looking about, like they are following a bee buzzing around. Taking it all in."
Anna frowned and set down her cup of tea. "But not Mr. Crawley."
"No. He sat there as if he'd dined in that room a thousand times."
"So he's a good actor then," O'Brien reasoned. "Trying to make himself look better than he is."
"No, that wasn't it. I've seen people trying to put on airs, like they belonged at Downton. The Grey heir… that one thinks he can command a room but he still looks like a starry-eyed child."
"Don't let her ladyship hear that," O'Brien commented. "She has hopes on Lady Sybil and him being a match."
"I don't know who to pity more," Thomas said, William chuckling beside him. "Mr. Crawley though… there is something odd there. And not just because he's a middle class lawyer."
"Well, you can think of why it is while you bring these desserts up!" Mrs. Patmore snapped, waving her spatula at William and Thomas. "Go on, then!"
O'Brien merely shrugged and wandered off, most likely to get a smoke, while Anna stayed with Mr. Bates, allowing themselves to take a small breather before they plunged back into their duties. "Well, I don't know about that but Lady Mary seems to not like him one whiff."
"You feel the same?" Mr. Bates asked.
Anna chuckled. "Unlike Mr. Carson I believe that a servant is allowed to have opinions that differ from their employers. I think Lady Mary is just upset that Mr. Crawley was able to match her wit."
"Hmmm," Mr. Bates said.
"What?"
"Nothing… just that I've found that sometimes the strongest relationships are formed through a connection of the mind rather than the body."
Anna looked up at him. "Is that so?"
"Indeed." He pushed away from the counter, Anna knowing that he'd need the extra time to get up the stairs to Lord Grantham's changing room. She watched him go, her own mind oddly filled with thoughts while also feeling like she was thinking nothing at all.
"I think the man speaks from experience," Mrs. Patmore said.
"What do you mean?"
The cook sighed. "You're young."
"…what does THAT mean?" Anna asked even as Mrs. Patmore hurried off. "Well? Well?"
~A~O~O~O~F~
Several hours later, after the family had headed up for bed and many of the servants were finishing their final tasks for the evening before going to get some shut-eye for themselves, Mrs. Hughes found Mr. Carson still in his office, going over the books one last time to make sure everything was in order. She waited, politely, for him to notice she was there before saying, "You know, I liked that song."
"What song?" Mr. Carson asked, brow furrowed.
"The one young William was playing before you came storming in acting as if he'd dumped soup on his lordship himself."
"He was wearing a torn uniform."
"I saw the rip… it was only visible when he bent down, which means that only you saw it. None of family would have ever noticed. And it could have easily happened while he was serving. It was on a seam and you know those like to burst. You've said yourself that once Mr. Crawley is settled in you wish to ask his lordship if we might purchase new livery."
"That is not the point," Mr. Carson said slowly, stressing each word. "As a footman-"
Mrs. Hughes held up her hand. "Yes yes, I've heard that before. I'm merely saying that your reaction did not quite match the crime committed." She stepped further into the room and shut the door behind her. "So please, tell me what truly has you upset."
"What has me upset is that the honor of Downton-" Mrs. Hughes merely stared down the butler and, after he took a moment to collect himself he spoke again in a softer tone. "No, you're right. And… I suppose I owe young William an apology. He wasn't the one that bothered me tonight. What has me upset is Mr. Crawley."
"I thought as much," Mrs. Hughes said. She glanced at the empty chair and when he made no move to stop her she took a seat. "He's been a source of conflicting feelings since Mr. Murray found out about him."
"I would agree with that."
"But from what I gathered the dinner went rather well. William even mentioned that Mr. Crawley complimented Thomas for being helpful."
Mr. Carson snorted. "Either Mr. Crawley is a fool or he is polite. Thomas saw fit to try and embarrass him and Mr. Crawley played it off as if he'd been done some great service by Thomas treating him like a chimney sweep who didn't know a salad fork from a soup spoon."
"Well, did he attempt to use his soup spoon to spear some lettuce?"
"No, he did not," Mr. Carson said dryly. "Mr. Crawley was the very definition of polite and sociable. The entire family fell into an easy rhythm, save for a few moments when the Dowager questioned his decision to work 'part time' as he called it, but other than that he did very well."
"So most likely polite then. He took Thomas' mistake and rather than simply turning it against him he showed kindness and restraint. It speaks well of him."
"Indeed," Mr. Carson agreed.
"So if Mr. Crawley did nothing wrong and from the sounds of it was actually a model guest… why has he upset you so?"
Mr. Carson sighed, closing his books and folding his hands in front of his face, his elbows up on his desk; a clear sign that he was agitated. "I find him… non repulsive."
"Well… high praise indeed."
"Please, do not jest."
"I won't if you won't."
"But I am not."
Mrs. Hughes shut her eyes for a moment, gathering her strength. Sometimes she wondered if Mr. Carson wasn't Daisy's father, as the two of them had a horrible habit of saying such strange nonsense that she honestly couldn't understand what made them spout off what they did. "Then please explain to me why Mr. Crawley being… likeable… is such a bad thing."
"I did not say he was likeable," Mr. Carson said, insulted. "He merely generated a feeling of… neutrality in me."
"And yet I still fail to see what the problem is. Is neutrality a sin now?"
"It is here."
"And what sin, pray tell, is that?"
"The sin of betrayal," Mr. Carson said darkly.
And like that the clouds parted and the sun shone down revealing to truth to her. "This isn't about Mr. Crawley at all, is it?" She leaned forward. "This is about Lady Mary."
Mr. Carson let out a huff. "I know that I must be fair, that I must look upon Mr. Crawley as I would any other man… but I simply cannot do so. He has come here to rob Lady Mary of Downton and that is something I can't forgive."
"Aye, that is true… if it had ever been her's to begin with." Mr. Carson opened his mouth but Mrs. Hughes cut him off. "She was not the heir. Mr. Patrick was."
"It would have been her's when they married."
"Is the estate his lordship's or his ladyship's?"
"His lordship's of course." Mr. Carson blustered for a moment. "But that is entirely different. She is not a Crawley by blood."
"But Patrick was and so is Matthew Crawley."
"It is entirely different."
She laughed though it was with little humor. "It entirely is not. In the eyes of the law Downton goes to the heir and that is Matthew Crawley. Oh, it'd be different if his lordship had gotten the estate with his own hard work like so many modern men seem to be doing now, but he didn't. He got it through blood and the law is clear what happens next."
"…the laws are rubbish. Lady Mary should be the heir."
Mrs. Hughes narrowed her eyes. "Is that because she is the first born? Or because she is Lady Mary and in your eyes she is perfect?" Mr. Carson scrunched up his face in annoyance but didn't answer. "If she had been second born and Lady Edith was the eldest would you still proclaim the laws rubbish? Or would you call Lady Edith unbecoming of her position for demanding to break from age-old tradition and take something that was never truly hers. And do not lie to Mr. Carson, you are no good at it." He sat there like a school boy who had been told to stay inside while the other kids went sent out to play and Mrs. Hughes just shook her head at his pouting.
While she would have loved to gloat on catching him out Mrs. Hughes found herself unable to bring him down any more than he already was and instead merely sighed and offered him a sad little smile. "It's not just you whose done it, Mr. Carson. I know you don't like anyone speaking ill of the family but his lordship and her ladyship did Lady Mary a great disfortune by allowing her to have such notions in her head. Even before her and Patrick were… engaged to be engaged… she believed Downton to be her destiny when it was never anything of the sort."
"Is it wrong to want her to have all she desires?" Mr. Carson asked.
"Heavens no. But it is wrong to allow that want to color your judgment and your actions." He pulled a face at that and Mrs. Hughes realized what weapon she could use to get him to come around and behave as he should. Mr. Carson was a man of principles and pride; he believed that his honor was worth more than all… save for Downton. And that was his weakness. "Do you think Thomas' little comment will be the last of it?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"His snide little comment, the one he made to Mr. Crawley. Do you honestly believe that it will be the last time he does something like that?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Mr. Carson asked. "Mr. Crawley took all the wind out of his sails, turning his remark back on him. He's learned not to try that again and it will be the end of it."
"Or it will push Thomas to try all the harder to get a rise out of him." She gave Mr. Carson a cool stare. "You know how he is. When he gets shoved he doesn't take his licks and then move on. He rather chooses to press back, to continue to test the limits, to find where the line is. And you are allowing him to do it."
"I am-"
"If he had done that to his lordship or Lady Sybil you'd have him in this office right now, ranting till your face was purple. But because it was Mr. Crawley you see no problem with it and let it slide. Which is fine… if I thought that it would end there. But what will happen when someone else decides to join in? Or Thomas decides to do it among people who won't look kindly upon servants at Downton talking to the\heir in such a way and look down on the family for allowing it? And what if someone else decides that if they can do it to Mr. Crawley why not Lady Sybil? Or her ladyship? Lady Edith?" Mrs. Hughes shook her head. "I dare say the honor of Downton would take quite a knock."
While she couldn't see what he was envisioning Mrs. Hughes had a good idea what was going on in Mr. Carson's head. Visions of Downton in disgrace, servants allowed to lip off to whoever they chose, other houses whispering of how far the Crawleys had fallen and how it was all that butler's fault for not doing his job. Mrs. Hughes hated to play on the man's fears but she knew she needed to nip this in the bud. Mr. Carson was allowing his caring for Lady Mary to lead him down paths he'd never have gone down otherwise and she wished to save him before it was too late.
"I will… take to heart what you've said."
"I certainly hope so," Mrs. Hughes stated, standing up and making her way to the door before turning and delivering one final blow. "And remember, Mr. Carson… we have no idea what life might bring. We never guessed his lordships heirs would be on that ship. I would hate for you to allow your loyalty to Lady Mary cause you to shrink your duty… and find yourself suddenly serving on a Lord Matthew Crawley who remembers ever time you stood by and did nothing." She opened the door. "Just a thought. Goodnight."
Mr. Carson didn't answer.
~A~O~O~O~F~
"Where is everyone, Carson?" Robert asked as he took his seat at the breakfast table. While he tended to be an early riser and Cora preferred to have breakfast in bed 'as a proper lady should' normally at least one of the girls were up and about. Oh, sometimes it would be only one of them but he was never alone when it came to breaking his fast. Yet on this day that was the case, with only Carson there to keep him company. "Are they all sleeping in, worn out from yesterday's excitement?"
"No, my lord," Carson said, stepping forward so that he could better speak with his employer. "Lady Mary has decided to give Diamond her paces and left just as the sun was rising. Lady Edith said she wasn't feeling well and wished to go for a walk to clear her out; I had Mrs. Patmore prepare her a small basket of food and she went off to tour the gardens. As for Lady Sybil said that she was going down to the village."
"So they leave their old Papa to fend for himself, I see," Robert said with a smile. "I suppose they are giving me a trial run, as the Americans say, for when they go off to make families of their own." He looked through the paper, seeing if there was anything of interest, but the tales of laws being considered by Parliament, the transfer of control of Sir Richard Carlisle's prized tabloid to The Sketch, and the rumbles that at long last the Italo-Turkish War would come to an end did not hold his interest. Instead his mind turned to other thoughts, ones of the bent towards family and the philosophical. "Do you ever think it funny, Carson, how we spend so much time worrying about the wrong things?"
"What do you mean, my lord?"
Robert sighed, folding his paper close. "I find that in life, or at least in my own life, that I wasted much time worry about things that didn't matter and not worry about what I should. Asking if I would find a wife worthy of me when I should have asked "Will I be worthy of her?". Fearing that the girls will never grow up only to now fear they have grown up too soon. Cora and I worry about them getting married but sitting here I am struck with the fear that I will be left behind; no longer will I be Papa who they run to when they are frightened. Instead I will be some old man who bothers them too much and doesn't know when to end his visits and go back to his lonely home so he might amble about the empty halls."
"I suppose that is life, my lord. We fear the unknown only to find that there are terrors we never considered."
"Plato couldn't have put it better himself." Robert took a sip of coffee. "Of course, I've also found that some worries give way to such hope that I feel foolish being concerned. I feared being able to step into my father's role and yet now feel as if I, at the very least, can measure up to him." He paused, smiling slightly. "I worried about Matthew too. Even after our first meeting, when everything felt so well and he seemed perfect… I still worried. I still feared that something would occur, something that would prove all my doubts right." He then smiled, thinking of the dinner before. "And then I saw him at the table and do you know what I thought? "It is as if he had always been here." It just struck me… it was like… he'd gone off on some tour of the Continent and then returned to us and settled back in. No different that if Mary or Edith had left and returned again." He raised his cup once more. "And I felt great shame for doubting him… and great relief."
And with that Robert turned to his meal, surrounded by empty chairs and brilliant hopes.
~A~O~O~O~F~
"When do you think you'll talk with Mr. Carson?" Moseley asked as he helped Matthew dress for the day.
The lawyer turn heir turned time traveler looked at his reflection in the mirror. 'When did I get so fat?' he thought, gazing at his lean frame and remembering how he'd looked only a few months ago, from his perspective. While he'd thought he'd looked fine back then staring at his lean frame he realized just how… bloated… he'd truly become. The muscles he'd gained from the war had given way to soft flesh, his sharp features had smoothed a bit, and he'd even developed a bit of a double chin when he turned his head the wrong way. Staring at his current body he resolved to say no more often to Mrs. Patmore's desserts and walk and bike more often rather than ride about in his car. 'Of course, considering that is how I died that is safer for me overall. Perhaps my money would be better spent on something else… perhaps convince Mary to get a bike herself? Or I suppose I could purchase a horse and ride with her more often. She'd like that.'
"Sir?"
"Sorry, Moseley, lost in thought. I don't know when he'll be up for it but I hope soon. You were right, he doesn't like me in the slightest." Matthew paused. "Or perhaps it is better to say that when weighed against Lady Mary I am found wanting in Carson's eyes."
"I expected as much," Moseley said, stepping away to look over Matthew's frame to make sure his suit was sitting just so. "Most of the village knows that Lady Mary is his favorite. It is hardly a secret. Any man trying to compete against her would fail when it came to Mr. Carson."
"All the more reason to win him, and the rest of the family, to my side."
"Including Lady Mary?"
"Including her."
Moseley opened his mouth to say something only for the door to chime. "I'll get it sir."
"If it's for my mother let them know she already headed to the hospital. As for me I'll take any visitors in the dining room. And let Mrs. Byrd know I am ready for breakfast."
Matthew made his way down stairs, finding his paper, freshly ironed, already waiting for him. Setting down in his chair he began to scan through the articles, trying to decide what he wanted to read first, and waiting to see just who had come round to visit.
It was a surprise when Moseley entered with Sybil a step behind. She was dressed in her riding outfit, which even being very similar to Mary's show how managed to look cute on her rather than appealing as it did on Mary. Once Moseley had announced her Matthew motioned for her to take a seat while the valet poured his coffee before going to get his breakfast from the kitchen.
"Have you eaten?"
"A little," Sybil said with a smile. "But I wouldn't say no to a small bite. Riding does so make me hungry, even this early in the morning."
"Then by all means," Matthew said and soon the two of them were nibbling on bacon, eggs, and toast with jams, Moseley leaving them to talk in private. "I suppose this is a rather plain breakfast for you, considering what you normally get."
"I've had plainer," Sybil said. "Though sometimes it is nice to keep things simple. There are days where I curse how many choices we are given, as it makes breakfast exhausting when you must make choices so early in the morning."
Matthew chuckled at that. "True enough, I suppose." He ate a bit more before asking, "What brings you here, Lady Sybil."
"I was hoping we could discuss last night's dinner."
"I suppose you've come to run me off for all my radical ideas and strange ways?" he teased.
Sybil smiled. "Hardly. I found you rather refreshing… and not at all what I expected."
"Ah. I suppose the fact that I knew how to behave properly at a dinner party shocked you as much as it did Mary."
"No, it didn't, and that isn't what I meant."
"And what did you mean? How did you expect me to be?"
"I expected you to be a bit of a prat."
Matthew raised an eyebrow at that. "Sorry to disappoint. Perhaps in another life I'd have made a great scene and utterly scandalized your family."
Sybil stared at him for a moment, her lips pressed together in a tight little pucker before she asked, "What made you decide to invite each of us to have tea with you?"
Matthew shrugged. "I thought it would be nice to do. Why? Is it that shocking?"
"Not shocking just… again not what I expected."
"I am trying to be unexpected. I'm glad to see I'm succeeding."
"Pease don't misunderstand… I think it is a grand idea. It is so hard to get to know someone at a table surrounded by so many people. No way to have a private conversation, all the decorum and pomp getting in the way of truly speaking your mind…"
"That is why I chose to do it," Matthew said. "I thought something less formal would help ease any nerves and allow everyone to be more honest with each other."
In truth that was only part of his reason for suggesting the tea times. While so many of his other little changes and ideas had been carefully planned out to help improve his life and the lives of all those around him the suggested get togethers had had a simpler, more selfish reason behind them: Matthew missed his family.
He'd always planned to suggest the meeting with Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes, to help cover up any knowledge that he had that might accidently leak out. But as he'd sat in the table, looking at people he knew so well but who stared at him like he was a stranger… Matthew had felt the urge to connect with each and every one of them once again. He wanted to reform the bonds, to get them all back to what he'd had before and stop the dull ache in his heart that came from watching the people he loved carry on as if he was a stranger (even if, to them, that was exactly what he was).
'I suppose I should be concerned about just how much my life had become about my family,' Matthew thought to himself. 'But then again, to be honest… before them I truly didn't have much else, except mother.' He looked down at his plate and thought, 'Until Tom and I truly began to bond I can't say I really had a friend. For the longest time it was work and mother, then it was Downton…' He didn't think about the war and the bond with those in his unit as those memories were always painful. Yes, he'd made strong relationships in the trenches but he'd lost far more than he had remaining. There were days where it had seemed like he would meet someone, get to know their name and feel like they were someone he could talk to and actually form a true bond of brotherhood and friendship… and then a German bullet would rip through their brain and that was the end of it.
It hadn't been until he got to Downton that he'd truly begun to develop meaningful relationships with other people. It was a touch depressing but when Matthew thought of all the joy the Crawleys had brought into his life he couldn't find himself mourning what he'd never had with others that weren't part of the family unit.
"So, what brought you by here so early, other than your surprise I'm not a prat?" Matthew asked with a smile.
"Your offer to meet with each of us individually, actually. I was struck by it greatly and, well, I hope you don't find this too direct but… I was hoping you might consider the two of us getting to do ours right now."
Matthew took a sip of his coffee to hide his frown. While it sounded innocent enough Matthew was suddenly having flashbacks to Edith and him touring churches and him having to do all he could to pretend he didn't notice Edith's blatant attempts to interest him in more than ancient religious architecture. Honestly, he had been shocked the girl hadn't realized after the tenth time he'd stuck his nose in a pamphlet rather than respond to her that he was trying to let her down easily and with her dignity intact.
'Of course this would happen to me,' Matthew thought nervously. 'Attempt to change things so that Mary and I get together sooner and I end up seducing her little sister.' He'd been worried about changing his past and how it could affect his future; while he hoped to prevent the many tragedies and mistakes of his first life there were many things he didn't want to change. He'd had nightmares of him saying the wrong thing and suddenly watching the ghostly form of his son-yet-to-be-born fading away into nothingness. And now he was sitting across from Sybil who was staring at him intently and he saw just how dangerous his actions could be. The young woman was staring at him and if he didn't handle this right it would create a mountain of headaches.
"Of course," Matthew said brightly. "I don't have anything planned this morning so as long as we are done by 1 it should be fine. Your father wants to visit some of the nearby farms so I could walk you back to Downton before starting off with him."
"Splendid," Sybil said with a grin. "So… how do we go about this?"
"Well, I suppose that is up to you. This is all about us getting to know each other but it won't work if you aren't comfortable. How do you thing we should go about all this?"
Sybil tapped her chin in thought. "The biggest thing for me is that we are honest with each other. Wouldn't do well for us if we began by hiding things from each other."
"Fair enough. I promise to be honest and fair with you, no matter what you ask."
"Thank you."
Matthew took another bite of his breakfast. "So, what would you like to know first?"
"When did you die?"
The world stopped spinning. The wind froze and nothing could make it blow again. Every sound was muted and colors seemed to lose their vibrancy.
"What?" Matthew said, chuckling nervously. "I mean…hah… what… what are you… I don't understand… what do you-"
"You promised to be honest with me Matthew so please don't try and brush this aside. . ?"
His tongue felt thick in his mouth and the words nearly caught in his throat but Matthew found himself revealing his greatest secret to Sybil, the words "September 23rd, 1921, the day my son was born" spilling from his lips.
"Barely a year," Sybil whispered before reaching out and taking Matthew's hand. "I beg you to forgive me, Matthew. I shocked you but… but I wanted to know. Needed to know."
"I… I don't understand," Matthew said, stilling trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Sybil KNEW.
The young woman smiled sadly. "Then let me make it clear: My name is Sybil Branson. I died May 22nd, 1920… and I would very much like to know what happened to my baby."
~A~O~O~O~F~
Author's Notes: So I don't want to get too much into this chapter as I think that the author's notes are encouraging people not to review as much because I am basically answering all their questions so they don't need to ask.
Remember, reviews feed the muse and gets it motivating me to write!
What I will say is that this chapter is probably one of my favorites I've written for this story (and before you say "Oh six?" I've written around 16 so far… I'm really far ahead!). First off, I enjoyed being able to write Mrs. Hughes and Carson… their voices just came so easily for me and I had a blast having them converse. Honestly, I probably slipped the most easily into their mindsets compared to the rest of the cast. Which is odd since I am a 33 year old American from the Mid West, not an old British butler. I MIGHT be a Scottish head housekeeper… there are moments I black out…
Anyway, that isn't what had you guys screaming "WHAT?!" at the screen, was it? Yes… I can finally reveal that Sybil also came back in time. For those that noticed that Sybil was acting different, good catch!
Now then, before I let you guys all go to write a ton of reviews that I can respond to and we can have long conversations about the show and story… it's Plot Bunny Time!
This one starts when Matthew was around 7 years old. His father, wanting to improve his family's lot, got involved with a money scheme run by an Earl or Duke's son, only for it turn out to be a scam. But because the son was heir to a upper class house the family was able to get the son off of all charges and Reginald, in disgrace, left England for Ireland, dying a few years later. Matthew swore that the upper class as a whole would pay for what they had done to his family. He would later meet a certain Socialist named Tom Branson and through conversations with him the two would decide that when you want to send a message sometimes you must be bold… daring.
Thus Matthew and Tom created the persona of 'The Grim'. Based on the myth of the black ghost dog of the same name, Matthew in his persona as the The Grim uses gadgets built by Tom (Tom in this realiy being a tickerer and inventor) to make it appear that he is a supernatural being: smoke bombs, special goggles that glow red so that it looks like his eyes are on fire, and Tom's favorite item, a super silent car that is faster and handles better than any vehicle ever made (at least in this era). Tom serves as Matthew's driver, the Kato to his Green Hornet. The Grim is a thief who targets upper class families and nobles but rather than stealing just wealth he will also steal secrets, revealing them to the world and bringing the family to ruin. His last target was the MacClare family at Duneagle, where he revealed Susan MacClare's dark secrets (what it is would be up to the writer) and while Shrimpie and Rose avoided most of the scandal they did end up leaving for India to escape the press. One of The Grim's secret allies is Sir Richard, who happily buys the information The Grim provides.
However, things take an odd turn when Matthew learns that he is to become the Earl of Grantham… because the previous heirs, James and Patrick Crawley, died under mysterious circumstances. While both Matthew and Tom aren't interested in Matthew being Earl (in fact Matthew his disgusted by the idea of becoming that which he blames for his father's death) they do see that it would help them in their crusade; the wealth would be REAL nice, they could learn more about the upper class families (even getting into their estates INVITED), and could turn Downton one day into their headquarters. Thus they move to Crawely house with Isobel (up to you if she knows about their nightly activities) and begin their work. But when The Grim goes to rob his first target, the Grey Family, he is startled when he happens upon the death of Larry Grey at the hands of a masked assassin who says she is Titania. The two engage in a sparring fight before breaking apart, Titania escaping on, of all things, a motorcycle (one of the old style ones that actually looks like a bike) while Matthew/The Grim escapes with Tom. Matthew states they have a rival. Meanwhile, in the forests outside of Downton, Titania stops at a small cottage near the abbey… and greets Sybil and Edith, revealing that she is Mary.
Mary, when she was young, was playing hide and seek at the abbey when she fell asleep in a closet. When she woke up she saw one of her grandfather's friends raping a maid. She later learned the maid hung herself. Mary, disgusted by what she saw, went to her grandmother but Violet said there was nothing the law could do… before leading Mary to a secret room in her home, where she reveals that in her own youth she took up the guise of Titania, avenging women who were hurt by upper class men. Violet trains Mary and later Edith and Sybil how to fight and kill and the sisters swear to hunt down all those that hurt the innocent and make them pay.
During all this we get the normal Matthew and Mary dance while Sybil and Tom bond. And of course Matthew and Mary, as The Grim and Titania, develop an odd Batman/Catwoman relationship.
