Mary sighed as she ran her brush though her hair, her eyes half closed not because she was truly tired but so she didn't have to look at her own reflection. She knew if she did she would see disappointment reflected back at her, the same that she'd felt in everyone's eyes as the night had gone on and it had become more and more clear that her and Evelyn Napier would not be seeing more of each other. Her mother had been especially disappointed, taking her aside at one point and practically begging her make conversation with the man. But whenever Mary had tried she'd found herself losing interest, her thoughts drifting away and losing track of the conversation. She hadn't thought much of it until after Kemal had kissed her and she'd realized just how poorly she was treating the man she'd invited to visit. She'd asked Evelyn to visit, to see if there was a connection, but she hadn't even tried to determine if there was one. She'd felt ashamed at how she had ignored him but by then it was too late. That kiss had ruined any desire she had to play the social dance that those in her circle did and things had only gotten more awkward until finally enough time had passed that she was able to gracefully beg Evelyn's pardon and escape upstairs. In her wake she knew she left a man feeling as if the entire trip had been a waste and a family who watched her go with annoyance and disappointment swirling in their minds.
She'd allowed Anna to help her undress but had begged the maid to let her be by herself rather than help her undo her hair and remove her makeup. Mary needed to be alone, to let her thoughts coagulate. She'd never understood those that needed to talk to others in order to work out their concerns and thoughts. It was so much better to be by one's self, left alone to reflect on one's mistakes and victories and determine what needed to be done to continue down the path one wanted. The entire family knew how she was and how unwise it was to intrude when she just wanted to be by herself-
"Mary?"
Which of course was why Sybil had decided to enter her room wearing her robe and nightgown.
"No Sybil, I'm really Edith in disguise. I finally decided that I wanted to be Mary so much I'd change my appearance to look like her." Mary shut her eyes and let out a sigh, not even turning to see Sybil's reaction. "I'm sorry, darling, that was rude of me." She turned and gestured for her baby sister to come in. "What can I do for you?"
"It's more of what I can do for you," Sybil asked. "You looked rather ashen before you turned in and with Matthew taking ill-"
"Matthew took ill?" Mary asked, startled by the news. "When?" She tried to think back to when she'd last seen Matthew and was startled to realize that she couldn't remember. She knew he'd gone with them on the hunt and that at one point he'd cracked a joke about how she should have convinced him that everyone rode sidesaddle just so she could see him embarrassed, but after that… nothing. She couldn't remember seeing him in the drawing room, nor at dinner. Her mind began to race and she wondered if he had been hurt while on the hunt and she'd missed it while, distracted by Kemal. 'Surely that can't be the case, papa and mama would have been more worried… yet what if I missed that too? What if I was so focused on Pamuk-'
"After dinner," Sybil said, cutting off Mary's panicked thoughts. "He went out for a breath of fresh air after you and Mr. Pamuk stepped out and when he returned he asked Robert if he could turn in early, as he wasn't feeling well." Her little sister shot Mary a look. "How did you miss that?"
Mary licked her lips, trying to put some steel into her voice. She hated how frazzled she felt; she was Lady Mary Crawley and she wasn't the one that fell to pieces. She was the one who mocked others for falling to pieces. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure Cousin Matthew is fine and I am not feeling ill."
Sybil narrowed her eyes and Mary was suddenly struck with the thought that little sister suddenly looked much older and Mary at once felt like a child. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" Mary asked, struggling to stay aloof.
"That. You always do that when you think someone is beneath you and doesn't need to know what is going on in that head of yours. I've known you all my life so don't think for a moment I don't recognize that trick. And don't-" at that Sybil marched forward and leaned down, making Mary lean back a touch, "-try and push me away, Mary. Don't you dare. Our entire lives are going to be filled with people that want to use us for our titles or want to see us thrown into the mud because they hate us simply for who our father is. We need each other. So don't you dare shove me away like a doll you don't want to play with just because you want to keep pretending you are Lady Mary Crawley, the Heartless Daughter of the Earl of Grantham!"
Mary took a deep breath and, as much to Sybil's shock as her own, felt her mask crack and tears to gather in her eyes. "Oh… oh Sybil…I'm so sorry." She grasped her sister's hands and gave them a squeeze. "I would never… I mean…"
Sybil squeezed back, pulling Mary up out of her chair and guiding her towards her bed. "Something happened last night, didn't it?"
"Is it that obvious?" Mary asked, hating the tears that were clinging to her eyes. "Everything has just gotten so mixed up and twisted around."
"Then talk to me about it," Sybil said, motioning for her to sit down on the bed. Mary, after a moment, did so, and Sybil snatched a pillow and placed on the floor before sitting down near Mary's slippered feet. Mary shook her head, not wanting to discuss her problems until she'd had time to come to terms with what had happened but Sybil merely shot her a glowering look. "And don't you dare try and stonewall me. I know you Mary and I know how you handle your problems."
"And how is that?" Mary asked in a half hiccup, half huff.
"Whenever something happens that doesn't fit into your carefully constructed model of how your life should go you seal yourself away in your room, thinking that you are working through what happened when in reality all you are doing is repressing the pain and confusion, letting it fester in your heart till all you can do for the next few weeks is snap at people with cutting little insults, questioning their intelligence and claiming that you are nothing like that."
"Oh, now you are just being silly," Mary grumped. "If you think that I do that then…I…" Mary blinked, realizing how she was behaving. "Ah. Quite." Sybil smirked in victory. "When did you figure that out?"
"Quite a while ago. You seem to forget that I am around when you and Edith snipe at each other. I know how both of you deal with pain and rejection and loss."
"And how does Edith deal with it?"
"By both playing the victim and attempting to cast others as villains like we were performing the works of Shakespeare. Now don't change the topic." Mary frowned but found herself unable to stop a tiny smile from gracing her lips at just how easily Sybil was able to read her. "What happened today to throw you so off-center?"
Mary looked down running her fingers along the duvet, tracing the stitching before finally saying, "Do you remember when you were four and papa took us to the ocean and you kept trying to build a sandcastle but it kept crumbling because of the waves and you began to cry?"
"Papa scooped me up and told me that I was too close to the water and he moved up the beach before he went and got buckets of wet sand. It was the only time I've seen him remove his shoes and socks!" Sybil and Mary chuckled at that, remember how their father had ignored their mother's complaints that he'd get sand everywhere when they got back as he'd rolled up his pant legs and helped Sybil build her little castle, excitedly crafting a story about the history of the castle and all the brave earls and countesses that had lived there and helping her name each tower and deciding who lived in which room. "Whenever someone tries to claim that papa is cold or didn't show us enough love I remember that story."
Mary nodded but she could feel her smile slipping as she left that happy memory and returned to the present day. "It feels as though I am now the one attempting to build something only for the sands to shift and the sea to come in and make everything come crumbling down. Yet there is no one here to pick me up and tell me 'it's okay, darling, let me show you what you've done wrong' and I hate to admit it but that is what I need and I don't understand why no one is willing to help me." She held up her hand, forestalling whatever Sybil was about to say next. "And please, don't mention Patrick. I am tired of everyone mentioning Patrick whenever I seem to be in a mood."
"But do you see why everyone does?" Sybil pressed, for she wouldn't be her little sister if she didn't press the issue.
"Because I am not wailing like a widow?" Mary asked in annoyance. She was so very weary of people expecting her to fall down in madness and grief, to allow her life to end just because someone she knew, that she was to marry, had died. She was not one of the undignified souls who fell to pieces when their husbands passed on. Whoever she married would be mourned but she would bounce back quickly and not allow herself to fall into months of despair. It would do no good to honor her late husband's memory by grieving for ages. She would not allow herself to tumble into despair. She would live, she would marry, that man would die, and she would move on. She wouldn't sob and cry. She just wasn't that type of person.
"Because it feels as if you've never truly allowed yourself to move on from his death." She sighed, considering her words carefully. "Mary, I believe you did grieve, in your own way, for Patrick. But I don't think you ever grieved for what his passing cost you. You still believe that Downton is your birthright, that something is going to happen that will allow you to be countess and rule over it… and as such you never allow yourself to move on to the next chapter of your life."
"But that's just it! I try to move on but every step I take is the wrong one!" Mary complained bitterly. "Just look at what happened with Evelyn tonight."
"I noticed you didn't spend much time with him… did you two fight?"
"No and that is the problem. I saw him today and… there was nothing. No spark. No flicker. No sign that he was the one for me. I know everyone just wants me to marry so they can focus on you and Edith…" Mary pulled a face, "and with Edith they will need all the help they can get…"
"Mary…" Sybil warned.
She let out a breath. "But I don't want to marry someone just to make it easy on the family. If I am to have a life I didn't plan for then it will be one that I want."
"And what do you want?"
"…that's just it. I don't know. I thought perhaps I did today but…"
"But what?" Sybil pressed. "Mary, what is it?"
"You'll be scandalized," Mary softly, not wanting to put to words what her thoughts were.
"I would have hoped by now you'd know just how untrue that statement is. Nothing you would do would make me gasp in shock and scorn you."
"don't make promises you can't keep, darling," Mary said with a bitter little laugh. "Today I found myself… entranced by Mr. Pamuk."
"I think everyone was. Anna asked me about him and I think Gwen caught sight of him too and got a flutter."
Mary noticed the face her sister was making when she said that, a puckered look like when one bit into a cake thinking it vanilla only to discover it was sour lemon. "And you didn't?"
Sybil violently shook her head. "He's too much of a dandy."
"If only that was his only sin," Mary stated.
"What do you mean?" Sybil leaned forward. "You left in a rush after you two left the drawing room… Mary, did he… did he try to…"
"He kissed me," Mary said, knowing her cheeks were turning red even as she said the words. "One moment we were admiring a painting in the hall and the next he was grabbing my face and asking me to let him come see me tonight so he might… I don't know what. I must have said something to make him think it was okay-"
"You did not!" Sybil exclaimed fiercely. "And even if you did that would not give him the right to… manhandle you like that!"
In the face of her sister's anger Mary chuckled softly, trying to calm her down. Sybil could be so fiery at times. "Peace, Sybil, peace. It is all right now."
"It certainly isn't all right! Why did you not tell papa?"
"I did not want to see Mr. Pamuk embarrassed."
"Embarrassed? He'd be lucky if father didn't thrash him! It is what he deserves!"
"Sybil, you are taking this much too seriously. He kissed me and I didn't expect it but… that is how men are. They can't control themselves."
"They can't- oh, that is pure and utter… shit!" Mary raised her eyebrow, startled that her sister had cursed… and let said curse fall from her tongue so easily. "Everyone keeps claiming how we are the weaker sex, prone to emotional outbursts and unable to handle the tough battles in life. Yet men like Pamuk, who are supposed to be in such control, are also so weak-willed that they can't control themselves around women and thus it is our fault when they attempt to do what they know to be wrong?" Sybil jabbed her finger against Mary's leg. "You are falling for the claptrap created by sick men who wish to absolve themselves of their failings by making women like you believe that everything is always their fault."
Mary opened her mouth to deny that but found the words would not move past her tongue. She slowly clicked her teeth shut and truly considered what Sybil had said. She thought of her interactions with Kemal and tried to find where she might have given him the impression it was okay for him to… demand… what he had demanded. And she could not find anything. She had shown him more attention than she'd normally show a man, that was for sure, but her time with him was no different than the time she spent with Matthew and he'd never attempted to kiss her like that or ask her to let him have knowledge of her in such an intimate way. In fact she and Matthew had gone on rides that had lasted the entire day and Matthew had always behaved as a complete gentlemen. It was only Kemal who had reacted as he did and the more she thought about it and his actions the hotter she became, and certainly not in a carnal way. It was just as Sybil had said: he had used her attraction to him to take liberties he never should have and when she'd tried to deny him he'd still attempted to make her change her mind. And the one embarrassed and concerned about the entire sordid event wasn't Kemal Pamuk but her!
'I doubt very much he is sitting in his room, thinking of what happened and chastising himself-'
She heard the door to her room creak open and she whipped around in time to find the man she'd just been thinking of quietly shutting the door behind him before pressing his back against it, giving her a grin that would have been well suited on Lucifer's face as he quietly locked it shut. She snatched up the duvet to cover herself, hissing in shock, "You must be mad!"
Kemal sent a smoldering look her way, his gaze never leaving her form, looking at her as if he was trying to work out why she was upset. Mary leapt off her bed, still clutching the duvet to her chest, wishing he would just go when it was clear all he wanted to do was stay.
"I am. I am in the grip of madness." He kept his hand on the doorknob and Mary felt her heart quicken with fear when he made no move to leave.
"You can't be here…"
"I told you I needed to see you tonight. I don't make such comments idly," he told her with a heated gaze. "And here you are, all alone and waiting for me."
'He can't see Sybil,' Mary realized dimly, a flicker of hope blossoming in her chest. 'She's hidden behind the bed… if I can distract him maybe she can get help.' She swallowed even as she said. "Do you have any idea what you're asking? I'd be ruined if they even knew we'd had this conversation, let alone if they-"
Kemal shook his head, clearly taking delight in her being flustered. With any other man she would have felt anger but the way he was looking at her all of Mary's fire seemed to burn out, leaving her shivering. "What? Don't worry. You can still be a virgin for your husband."
"Please… if I have done something to encourage you… to make you think…"
"If? There is no if. I can tell you want this, just as much as I do." He finally left the door but any relief Mary might have felt died when he rapidly bridged the gap between them, his strong hands grasping her arms as he guided her towards the bed.
"Don't," she said desperately, half of her praying Sybil would flee and get help and the other half so ashamed that she wished Sybil gone so she might not see her embarrassment and shame as she was thrown to the bed. Kemal straddled her body, his hands on her wrists, his face buried in the crook of her neck, not letting her even twist her body let alone her head to see if Sybil had made her move or had been rendered still from shock. "You're hurting me."
"What is pleasure without a bit of pain?" Kemal asked, tightening his grip on her wrists until she began to lose feeling in the tips of her fingers.
Mary's mind raced desperately. "I'll scream!"
"No you won't." It was clear he meant it to sound teasing but the rumble of his voice revealed the threat for what it was. "Who's on duty now? The hall boy? Will you really let him find a man in your bedroom? What a story!" He leaned down once more and began to bite at her shoulder and neck, making her go rigid. The worst part of it was that she knew he was right. Even if Sybil managed to get help the tales that would be told… "Of course, I've found some women like to scream during-"
And that's when Sybil smashed the vase upside his head.
One moment Mary was trapped beneath Kemal's body, her limbs pinned with no way of escape as he peppered kisses and love bites against her skin. The next he was rolling away, groaning and crying out in pain as Sybil grabbed Mary's arms and yanked her off of the bed and to the corner of the room, shards of the improvised weapon clattering to the floor. Mary took in the Turkish diplomat and was struck by the transformation. Gone was the dashing fellow on his horse who spoke of exotic places and new sensations. In his place was a beast, hair tangled and blood dribbling down the side of his face. His robe had loosened revealing he was wearing nothing underneath and his chest panted not from the thrill of the hunt but from pain and anger. Kemal looked up at the two of them and Mary felt herself shake harder for his eyes were blazing no longer with lust but with rage. It was a look that promised revenge for the delay and Mary knew that if Kemal had his way both her and Sybil would suffer greatly before the night was through. Yet Mary's baby sister didn't back down. Instead she merely stared him down before throwing back her head and letting rip a scream so shrill and harsh both Mary and Kemal clapped their hands over their ears.
Mary had no idea how long Sybil screamed for it seemed to last both a lifetime and a fraction of a second. What she did know was that suddenly the door of her room thundered open, the wood shattering around the lock, and Matthew raced in, still dressed in his pajamas and a firepoker in his hands as he scanned the room, the footman William only a step behind. The moment he spotted the Turk she was sure Matthew would go after him with the poker but instead Matthew rushed towards her and Sybil, moving so his body was between them and Kemal, the latter clutching his head where Sybil had struck him.
"You vile beast," Matthew snarled, still brandishing his weapon. "I knew there was something wrong with you. William, there is a poker to your left; grab it and ring the bell. If he tries to move towards you don't hesitated… you strike him down."
"Sir?" William said in shock.
"William," Matthew said, his voice harsh and hard, so unlike any other time Mary had heard him speak. There was something primal about his voice and Mary suddenly had a vision of a great wolf standing over its injured mate, snarling at a predator that had tried to make an easy meal out of the fallen one. "You have sworn to protect this family. You are a Man of Downton. Now pick up the poker and do your duty!"
William seemed to age 10 years before Mary's eyes, his back going straight as he firmly snatched up his own poker, holding it in a death grip as he moved and rang the bell so hard it was a wonder he didn't break it. Kemal glanced back at Matthew, his body tense as the blood from his head wound trickled down his neck and towards his bare chest. Matthew though merely shook his head.
"You come near them… you die," Matthew hissed.
"You wouldn't risk it."
"For them I would." The passion in his voice made Mary blink back tears; never had anyone so forcefully moved to protect her. At once she felt both comfort in having someone care so deeply for her and shame that she'd allowed herself to be in such a position and was doing nothing to help. She suddenly felt weak and helpless and she wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed; Sybil's arm was soon around her as she hugged her tight.
Mary never did get to find out what Kemal would do as at that moment papa rushed in, mama and Thomas a few steps behind. She turned her head away, heat burning her cheeks at the sight of her parents entering to see her shame.
"What is the meaning of this?" papa asked, looking about wildly.
"The meaning is clear enough," Matthew said, making no move to shift away from either of the Crawley girls. Mary heard her mother say something but it was too soft for her to make out. "I heard Lady Sybil scream and walked in to find this cretin in here, the door locked and Mary looking as if she were mauled."
"You don't know what we were doing," Kemal said fiercely. At his words Mary looked up and found herself trapped in his gaze. "I was invited in, wasn't I Lady Mary?" She tried to break away but his eyes seemed to entrance her, his words of the stories that would be told echoing in her head. She felt herself almost against her will slowly begin to nod her head, Kemal smirking in triumph.
"But I do," Sybil said, breaking the spell. "I came here to talk with Mary. I was seated behind the bed when you came bursting in! You locked the door and told Mary that you would have her, despite her repeatedly telling you no!" Sybill took a step forward but Matthew held out an arm, preventing her from getting any closer to Kemal. "When she rejected you… you threw her to the bed and threatened her with shame and disgrace if she didn't give in!"
Mary finally chanced a look at papa and nearly cried out at the sight of his face. She'd never seen him so angry before, his entire frame trembling as all the blood rushing to his face and scalp. Behind him her mother was a grand contrast, looking as pale as a specter, her hands trembling like doves as she brought them to her mouth, a silent scream forming on her lips. Mary was dimly aware that at some point Carson, Edith, and Evelyn had arrived, as had Anna and Mrs. Hughes, all of them shifting into the room and forming an impromptu audience for the dark pageant that was taking place before them. Matthew refused to move, his body still shielding Mary and Sybil, while William, even with the added numbers, refused to relax for even a moment, it clear that Matthew's command to protect the family still pounding in his heart.
"I invite you into my house. I allow you to eat at my table. And this is how you reward my kindness?" Papa took a step forward, his hands balled into fists. "I want you gone. I will not have you darkening these halls a second more." He marched over the Mary's desk and snatched up a bit of parchment, quickly sketching out a quick note. "This will inform the owner of the Grantham Arms that I will pay for your room for the night. Dress and go there at once. Your things will be brought by the morning at which point I want you to leave the village." He didn't even bother to hand Kemal the note, tossing at the man's feet. "Go. Before I call the police."
"For what?" Kemal snarled, eyes darting about like a caged and abused animal. "On the word of a wild child and a gold digging harlot? I'll ensure that the tale told of this night sees you ruined, Lord Grantham, so you best begin thinking of how to bargain with me rather than make threats."
"You were found in Lady Mary's room half undressed," Matthew snapped. "There's no way to spin this to your advantage."
Evelyn finally spoke up, making himself known. "Kemal, enough. You have disgraced you and me."
"No, not enough," the Turk ranted, a touch of madness flashing in his eyes before he focused on, of all people, Thomas. "What will the people say, Lord Grantham, when I tell them of how you harbor faggots in your home? Oh yes… you sent one to me, to undress me, to touch me…he tried to take advantage of me. I bet you sent him to me on purpose, Lord Grantham… I've heard of what you lords do to get enjoyment. Why else would you keep that cripple in your service? Whatever will the papers say when I expose your disgusting perversions!" Kemal tilted his head slightly as Thomas went nearly as pale as mama and in a sickening voice Kemal whispered. "I think that a fair trade… your silence for mine."
There was silence… before Sybil burst out laughing.
Kemal blinked, a bit of sanity returning to him as he slowly turned to stare at Sybil. Mary didn't blame him… she could feel the same befuddled look that was on Kemal's face forming on her own. Her sister was making Mary shake, she was laughing so hard, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she struggled with her mirth.
"Is that all you have?" Sybil finally hiccupped, managing to speak without collapsing into giggles. "False and baseless accusations about one of our footmen?" Mary watched as Kemal tried to puzzle out just what was going on, trying to find the trap he knew must be there. "Thomas is one of the biggest flirts in Downton Abbey. At the Servant's Ball every girl wanted a dance with him and he was happy to oblige. Even Granny danced with him! Gwen and Anna have told us of how he'll make little comments to them just to see them blush. Isn't that right Anna?" Mary's brow furrowed; she'd never heard Anna talk about Thomas like that. Anna didn't talk much about the staff and what happened downstairs. And Mary was the one who was closest to Anna, not Sybil. Why would the maid gossip with her?
And yet Anna was there, nodding her head. "It's true, my lady." She glanced at Thomas and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry to have revealed it to them, Thomas… it was only in innocent fun."
The footman nodded, swallowing before saying, "That's… quite alright, Anna." He smiled thought to Mary's eyes it seemed a bit too forced.
Sybil locked eyes with Kemal and laughed again. "Thomas? A homosexual? Now you are grasping! But what else should one expect from a rapist?"
"You bitch!" Kemal snarled, realizing his scheme had fallen apart once more.
"ENOUGH!" papa bellowed, silencing the Turk. "Mr. Napier… please help Mr. Pamuk gather his things. I will have Pratt drive you down to the Grantham Arms." For a moment he considered his words before adding, "You… are innocent in all this and I'll allow you to return, should you wish."
"Kemal… let's go," Evelyn said fiercely, his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Those in the room shifted to allow Kemal Pamuk easy access to the door, Matthew swinging his body so that he never gave the Turk an easy eyeline on either Mary or her sister. Kemal gingerly stepped around the shattered remains of the vase Sybil had broken over his head, Matthew tensing until the Turk moved passed him and continued on. Edith, for her part, drifted behind Thomas and William while mama moved to the other side of the room; it was clear to Mary that her mother wanted to rush to her but didn't dare risk doing so while Kemal was in the room. Let alone that Matthew was still brandishing the poker.
But the Turkish diplomat could not leave without one final parting shot. "You think yourself so high and mighty, Lord Grantham, but I'll still make sure everyone knows how I was treated. By the end of the week all of London will be a buzz with how your daughter teases and seduces men to her bedroom then screeches out just to cause a scene. All will know what a little whore Mary Crawley is, how she spread her legs for me-"
Once more Kemal Pamuk found himself silenced.
Only this time it was Carson's fist slamming into his face that quieted him.
There were many unwritten truths at Downton Abbey. Facts that all knew but never spoke aloud. And Kemal had just learned of one: Mary was Carson's favorite.
Unfortunately for the butler years of polishing silver hadn't given him a boxer's right hand and while his blow did knock Kemal back it didn't knock him out. Instantly the Turk rushed the butler, striking him in the gut and knocking the wind out of him. Mary heard a scream only to realize it was her own while Thomas pulled Anna and Mrs. Hughes out of harm's way while papa did the same to mama. Matthew tensed, it clear he wanted to rush and protect Carson but he did not want to leave Mary and Sybil unprotected. Evelyn attempted to yank Kemal off Carson, who had fallen to the ground as he tried to shield his face, but the man had lost all sanity and he shoved Evelyn away before moving to kick Carson while he was down.
But they'd all forgotten about William.
With a roar William rushed forward, dropping the poker and tackling Kemal, driving him away from Carson and into a wall. The Turk's head rolled about in a daze but then William was on him, punching him one, two, three, four times in the face and in the chest before Thomas took hold of his arm and yanked William away before he went too far and risked his freedom. Kemal slumped to the ground, his nose gushing blood and his hand clutching at his side while William finally realized he'd most likely just broken his hand and pressed it to his chest, Thomas dragging him back towards Anna and Mrs. Hughes who flocked around the footman.
"I've changed my mind," papa said finally, staring down in contempt at Pamuk as he held out an arm in front of mama. "I think Pratt can sleep tonight. He had a busy day. You… can walk. Now."
"Dressed… like this?" Kemal groaned.
"You're lucky I don't strip you naked and leave you in the woods! Now get out of my house!" papa thundered.
Kemal, tried to maintain dignity he did not have, slowly rose to his feet, Evelyn moving to follow him even though it was clear that was the last thing he wanted. Mary felt pity for the man, for it was not his fault that his friend had turned out to be such a monster. "I hope your daughter's virtue is worth all you have, Lord Grantham, because I'll see it all taken away from you after tonight."
"I'd burn Downton to the ground if it kept her safe from the likes of you," papa hissed, reaching down at grabbing the poker that William had discarded. Kemal, finally deciding that there was nothing left to say or do, hobbled out of the room, Evelyn a step behind. Mrs. Hughes moved and shut the door with a firm hand.
Anna, for her part, rushed to Carson's side, the butler sitting on the ground in a heap. "Are you alright, Mr. Carson?" she asked.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Carson said, waving her off. Despite his injuries he was still Carson and would not allow himself to disgrace Downton by sitting on Mary's floor. "Just… need to catch my breath."
"Carson, please remain where you are, that is an order. And…thank you," Mary said, a hitch in her throat, "for defending my honor."
"That, my lady, is something you'll never need to thank me for." Carson groaned, hand rubbing his abused stomach.
"Matthew?" Sybil whispered, drawing Mary's attention to her cousin. She could see that he was still tense, gripping the poker like it was a lifeline, his body coiled and ready to spring at a moment's notice. Sybil carefully raised her hand, like one would when they were afraid the dog before them might turn vicious, and let it come to rest on his shoulder. "We're safe."
Like a puppet whose strings had been cut Matthew's entire body went lax. The poker fell from his fingers, clanging against the hardwood and making a dent but no one could muster the energy to care. Matthew trembled before whipping around and, to Mary's shook, wrapped both her and Sybil into a fierce hug. She could feel him shaking and heard rather than saw the tears that were rolling down his cheeks and though she would have normally found such displays of emotion to be undignified the trauma of the hour's events found her reaching around and hugging both him and Sybil. Edith, still trembling from the ordeal, wordlessly walked over and moved to rub Matthew's back only for him to pull her into the hug as well, the four of them wrapping their arms around each other in a tight embrace. Only then did the Crawley sisters begin to cry, the fear and the relief from what had just happened, and what might have been had providence not shined down upon them, finally crashing down on them.
Mary was struck too by how different Matthew's embrace was from Kemal's. The Turk had been crushing, possessive, holding her down with force. He had made her feel weak and small, his form crushing hers against the bed and making it so she could do little but lay there as he took advantage of her. There was no hope of resisting or breaking away, not unless Kemal allowed it. He sought to obtain, to dominate, to hold her in his embrace with he and he alone the master of when it would end and with only his wants and desires considered. With Matthew it was an embrace of give and take. She sensed all at once that he clung to her both to offer her comfort and to draw it from her. He was both trying to shield her from the trauma and pain that she had suffered through and clinging to her as a frightened child would a treasured toy. But Mary also understood that Matthew wasn't trying to entrap her and all she had to do was ask him to let go and he would do so. She dimly wondered at the strangeness of it all, that the man who wished to not release her was the one whose grasp she'd fought so hard to escape from… and the man who would, with a simple word, set her free….was the one she wanted to hold her and never let go.
It wasn't just Matthew who sought comfort and strength from her presence. Sybil had wrapped her arm around her waist and clung to her much as she had when she'd been a baby, constantly holding onto Mary's sleeve as they snuck about the Abbey. Edith had reached around and taken Mary's hand in her own and with a squeeze silently told her sister that for tonight at least there would be no cruel words and biting insults. Tonight they were sisters and that was all.
Finally Matthew got control of himself and released them, looking a bit sheepish for his emotional outburst, cringing slightly as if he expected Mary to make a snide remark of his hugging her being so middle class. She wanted to shake him by the shoulders and ask how she could ever think such a thing about her savoir but a bitter little voice in the back of her reminded her that she'd done nothing to prove that worry false. Instead Mary allowed her mother to take Matthew's place, mama running her fingers through her hair and murmuring whispered promises that it was all over and she was safe.
"Matthew," papa said, his eyes blinking rapidly as he approached his heir before clasping him a quick, tight embrace. "Thank you." Matthew was only able to nod. "Now, sit down… you look about ready to collapse." Once more Matthew could only nod, moving and slumping down beside Mary's bed, his chin falling to his breast as he panted. Mary looked at her father, watching as he struggled to contain himself, it clear that he wanted to do nothing more than join his wife and daughters in the massive hug but knowing that there was much to do. "Thomas?"
"Yes my lord?" the foorman said, straightening as a bit of color finally returned to his cheeks.
"Could you please wake up Pratt and have him drive down to the Village. I meant what I said about that…" it was clear her father wanted to say something else but with women in the room he would not curse, "…man walking but we need Dr. Clarkson to come. I want him to look over Carson, William, and Mary."
"Papa, I'm fine," Mary said, trying to step towards him but her mother and sisters kept her rooted in place. "Please, see to poor William and Carson."
"You are not fine Mary. You were attacked, same as them, and I will know that you are safe."
Mary glared at her father, a bit of her fire returning and she found herself grateful for that; she'd feared that Kemal had snuffed it all out and left her empty. "Fine but I will go last. Carson is hurt and William's hand may be broken."
The footman looked over at Mary's father, a glimmer of fear in his eye. "My lord… what about…" he gestured at his injured hand and the meaning was clear. What good was a footman that couldn't hold a tray?
"William," Matthew said, finally speaking up, "after tonight I'll carry every tray until you are healed, if it means you keep your position." He glanced up at papa. "I'm sorry Robert, I shouldn't speak out of turn-"
"But in this case you're correct." Robert walked over and pattered William on the shoulder. "You protected my daughter and saved Carson. For that I am in your debt. If I have to send you to London to get fixed up I will. We'll figure this out, William."
"Yes my lord."
"I'll go fetch Pratt now, my lord," Thomas said.
"Rouse Mr. Napier's man and ask him to gather Mr. Pamuk's things in the morning. I don't want you in his room… I won't give him another reason to drag your name into the mud."
Thomas nodded and moved to leave only to stop and look over at Sybil. "My lady… thank you for speaking up for me."
Sybil smiled at him. "You are a good man, Thomas… even if you were all he claimed you to be I would never let the likes of him ruin you."
The footman paused at that and for a moment, to Mary's confusion, she thought Thomas would begin to cry as well. But instead he gathered himself and smiled, a genuine smile for him, and left.
"I should go and alert the staff of what has happened," Carson said only for Mrs. Hughes to hurry over and force him to remain sitting.
"You won't be going anywhere till you've been looked over. I'll inform the staff… though I imagine with Thomas they will all know soon enough."
Papa nodded. "Carson, as Lady Mary said you will sit there. That is an order. I don't want you or William moving about until Clarkson has been you the go ahead. Mrs. Hughes?" the head housekeeper looked over at Mary's father. "Would you and Anna mind terribly retrieving some chairs and pillows? I dare say none of us will be retiring to our beds for the rest of the night and we might as well be comfortable."
"Yes, my lord," Mrs. Hughes said.
"Would you like me to bring something to drink, my lord?" Anna asked.
"Good thinking, yes," Papa said, Mary smiling as Carson complained about maids fetching drinks like footmen. "I think we all could use some, as the Americans say, 'liquid courage'."
Mary and her family moved towards the bed, Mary deciding to sit so that she was next to Matthew while her mother sandwiched herself between her and Edith. Sybil slumped down next to Matthew and to the surprise of all rested her head on his shoulder, a tired smile forming on her lips. If anyone thought it improper they didn't say a word and after the chaos and stress of the last hour the Crawleys found themselves honestly not caring about what was socially acceptable. Her father, for his part, kissed Mary on the forehead before walking over to check on William. Anna soon returned with chairs and papa helped William and Carson into two of them before he began to pace the room, glancing every few seconds at Mary, as if to make sure she was fine.
As her family closed ranks around her Mary shut her eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. She dimly heard her mother tell her to sleep, that she'd wake her when Clarkson arrived, and while Mary wanted to fight her eyes would not stay open. The last thing she knew before sleep claimed her was Matthew's hand reaching up and taking hers.
She gave it a squeeze before drifting off.
~MC~MC~MC~
Author's Notes: I'm not going to say much as this has been the chapter you've all been waiting for and for something like this I'd rather let you guys digest what occured rather than me talking about it.
That said, you guys still get a plot bunny and it is an interesting one!
It is up to whoever takes the bunny if it is placed in Season 1 or Season 2. Both would offer some fun... I think Season 2 might be better, as it would allow mre characters to be involved, but Season 1 would work too. It begins when Robert receives a rare antique that he recently won at an auction while visiting London. Known as a Liar's Box, it is a beautifully crafted box, roughly between the size of a cigar box and a breadbox, and Robert thought it a wonderful piece to encourage discussion after a dinner. He invites everyone to the Abbey but when he opens the box there is a suddenly flash of green light that sweeps over all of Downton. The first thing people discover is that all the doors and windows won't open, nor can they be broken open. What they discover next is even more startling:
None of them can lie.
That little reveal leads into the second revelation: as time goes on there is a deep need to confess secrets. Trying to not speak one's mind causes discomfort (think Steve Trevor under Wonder Woman's lasso of truth) until finally one can't help but blurt out something. Then there is relief... only for the process to begin again.
The fourth and final discovery? A deep urge to give into one's desires if one tries to fight the other curses. Because denying oneself is a form of lying as well.
Thus we have a bunch of repressed British People, servants and the rich alike, all trapped in a house that is known for secrets... now unable to lie and with the urge to reveal secrets and to do things they've always dreamed of doing but been unable to.
Now wouldn't that be fun!
I just have so many funny and wonderful scenes in my head. Mary fighting hard to resist but when she finally gives in she gives in HARD, with Matthew going to the room he's been given only to find her lounging naked under the bedsheets, confessing how she's wanted to ravage him for years. Thomas finally confessing all his dirty little secrets and the horror as people begin putting the pieces together. Anna and Bates sitting down and just making lists of all their secrets, getting it all out in the open. Mrs. Hughes marching up to Mr. Carson as he tries to maintain control and just kissing him soundly! Violet admiting that she tried pizza last year and she loves it and she goes down to the kitchen to teach Mrs. Patmore how to make it because damn it she is tired of wine and chicken dishes, she wants some pizza! Sybil and Branson just looking at each other and going "I love you!" and then spending the rest of the night commenting on what is going on. Robert seeing the benefit of finally learning what everyone has been hiding from him and running about finally learning about all the scandals and secrets they hid from him ("Cora, what happened in this room?" "That is where Mr. Pamuk slept with Mary." "He... wait, what about this room?" "That is where I caught Larry Gray sucking his thumb" "Really?!")
And if you include other characters, like the Grays or Dr. Clarkson... well, things could get VERY interesting.
