"I can scarcely believe it!" Robert said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. He liked to believe that he had control over his life and understood the route he was taking. That his life was a path, much like the ones he favored when the mood struck him to wander about the estate, familiar and while perhaps not straight at least gentle and easy with the next bend always visible. But it seemed that whenever he found his footing something new appeared to shake him up. He'd just reached adulthood only to learn that if he didn't marry properly Downton would be brought down because of his father's failure to secure its future (and what a wonderful birthday that had been when his father had gruffly admitted that just before dinner; it was part of the reason Robert worried about his mistakes rather than just shrug his shoulders and assume another would save him, as he never wanted to place another person in that type of horrible experience as his father had him). He'd married Cora and secured Downton only for his father to die less than a year later, leaving him to try and manage an estate he thought he wouldn't take control of for years. He'd managed to find his footing and become the Earl he thought Downton deserved only to be left without an heir. He'd brought James and Patrick to secure Downton only for them to die upon an 'unsinkable' ship. He'd sought out a new heir only to find a lawyer as his closest living male relative.

Finally though it had seemed that, at long last, his reality had become stable. Matthew had been both a breath of fresh air and a stabilizing influence. He knew how to respect what had come before while also looking ahead. He had new thoughts that would have been scary if they hadn't been built on the foundations of earls past. If life were a path then Matthew was the man that looked through the brush and said "What if we cut away a trail, right here, to make the path a bit easier?". He was a mixture of old and new and Robert had finally believed that he could relax and just live his life.

And then the fox hunt had occurred and the dark deeds of the night after.

"He brought those… filthy things into my home?" he said, asking no one at all even though he was surrounded on all sides. His mother had come down from Mary's room after Clarkson had told them the news, her face at first having been ashen only to grow as cold as a glacier as Clarkson had delivered the newest twist to the drama that was their lives. Cora had been quiet since Clarkson had informed them of Pamuk's death, now by the window and staring out at the grounds. Isobel rounded out the group, having arrived when word had been sent to Crawley House about the incident, wanting to see her son with her own eyes and ensure that he was truly okay. She'd been informed of the details by Matthew in quiet tones, only her gasps of surprise alerting Robert of what was being said. The five of them were gathered in the library, Dr. Clarkson sitting down per Robert's request, digesting the thunderous shock that had been dropped upon them, Bates sent away to check on the staff as he was acting butler. They'd left Matthew and the girls in her room, his heir promising to sit with Mary, Edith, and Sybil as they processed the news, though Robert had a feeling Edith and Sybil wouldn't stick around for long; Sybil would seek out the maid she'd become friends with and Edith would want to be alone. At this point Robert didn't begrudge Sybil for her odd friendship as a part of him wanted to grab Bates and head off for a deep part of the woods so he might roar and scream his frustrations to a man he knew he could trust. It was good, in this instance, that Sybil had an ally. "I knew the man was vile but I didn't realize just how deep his depravity went!"

"Well, he is a foreigner, you can never trust those people," his mother said, sitting in the chaise lounge, her cane gripped in her hands. "It isn't their fault, of course… they don't have our culture and upbringing to show them right from wrong. A pity, really."

"I don't feel pity for the likes of him," Robert snapped, slapping the armrest of his chair. "After everything he did, after what he almost did-"

"Now now," his mother said, holding up her hand. "Let's not speak of it, especially since we have been blessed that it did not occur."

"But perhaps we should speak of it," Isobel said, Robert catching his mother rolling her eyes as Matthew's mother spoke. If he weren't in such a sour mood he would have found their interplay utterly entertaining. He braced himself as she began, ready to fight the urge to toss her out if she began to go on about how it was the drugs that had made Pamuk do what he did and they had to forgive him. That was a step too far for Robert. "It is by covering up such things that we give men like Mr. Pamuk the power to do as they wish. They know that women will not dare speak of such things and thus the risk against them is lessened. It is like armor they wear to protect themselves. We serve no good protecting him, especially now."

Violet huffed. "Well, I still believe some things should not be spoken of in open company."

"Oh, of course not," she said, surprising Robert. It was rare for her to agree with mama. "I'm not suggesting we take out a full page ad in The Sketch. But we aren't open company, are we?" Isobel pressed. "We are family. What that horrid man almost did to Mary… he might as well have done it to each of us. When one of us is hurt all of us are hurt."

Robert raised an eyebrow at that, finding himself nodding in agreement. "While I disagree with discussing such… topics… I am heartened that you feel such closeness to us, Isobel."

The older woman smiled at that. "I know that should tragedy have struck Matthew and I you would gather around us… we could do nothing else but the same for you." She shook her head, her face screwing up in a look of disgust that, to Robert's amusement, he realized she usually reserved for when his mother said something she found truly distasteful. "I'm just glad Matthew was there to protect the girls from that brute."

His mother let out a little laugh at that. "I must say, I'm startled to hear you talk so poorly of that man. I expected you to proclaim that we should all find forgiveness in our hearts for him and frown upon how Robert cast him out."

It always amazed him how his mother seemed to cotton onto the same ideas as him.

Isobel squared her shoulders at that. "Even Christ cast the money changers out of the temple in anger."

"Well… I suppose if you must compare yourself to someone," his mother said dryly to him.

"Dr. Clarkson," Cora said, stopping the two women from falling into a sniping war, "you are sure of what you found? It was the drugs that killed Mr. Pamuk?"

The doctor set down his cup of tea. "You are asking if Mr. Carson or young William could be to blame?"

Robert interjected. "We merely wish to know if we can finally put this matter behind us. None of us want to have the Turkish Embassy knocking on Downton's door, demanding Carson or William's heads."

The doctor smiled comfortingly at that. "Lord Grantham, Lady Grantham, let me assure you that it is clear to me that Mr. Pamuk died of an overdose. The Embassy can bring any doctor they wish to look him over and I am confident they will come to the same conclusion I did."

"And there is no chance that this was staged?" Isobel asked.

Robert shot her a dark look but it was his mother who spoke up. "No no, it needed to be asked, Robert, and good on Cousin Isobel for thinking of it. There will be those that claim that Mr. Pamuk could never have partaken of such things and his death was all a scheme by someone attempting to not just kill him but discredit him. You know how people are, loving the gossip and whisper. We would have suffered such talk with the Turk dying… but adding his actions in Mary's room and a death related to drugs? It will have tongues wagging for several seasons. We can't walk into this with closed eyes and hopeful hearts. Better to know now if there is a chance and have our weapons to beat back the rumors."

Sometimes Robert hated how his mother could look at the world with such cynical eyes. All the moreso because she tended to be right. Robert had seen for himself how people in their circle whispered about this scandal and that. He was ashamed to admit that he had done the same and he knew, from the way Cora turned and wrapped her arms around herself, that she was remembering all the times she'd done the same. Coy little smiles, voices laced with sympathy when really one was taking delight in another's fall. It was so easy when it was someone else who was facing disgrace… it was a different matter when it was his family. It was different when it was his child.

'That's the worst of it,' Robert thought, shoulders slumping slightly. 'If it were just me I could weather the storm. But this is Mary. This is Sybil. This is Carson and William.' He wanted to be their knight and commander but knew he would be powerless to protect them from this.

"I can't speak to rumors but I can say that if it was staged then the person is far more clever than I. They have managed then to create something… well, I would be shocked, if you follow me, to find out this was a ruse," Clarkson said, breaking through the gloom that had begun to consume Robert's mind. "There were… signs… that made it clear to me that Mr. Pamuk did this on his own."

"Doctor," Cora said, "I am not normally one for discussing details such as this but I think it would ease my mind more to know what you found. In this case ignorance is simply not bliss."

The doctor shifted at that and Robert didn't blame him; he had been planning to have a quiet word with the man, to convince him to tell him of exactly what he had found in that room. He'd even considered asking Isobel to be there, if only because he knew she'd find out anyway and it would be better to have her there to translate for Clarkson, as sometimes the doctor seemed to forget that not everyone had studied medicine like him. Isobel was strong willed but she didn't blurt out secrets and he knew whatever was said she would guard for the rest of her life, if needed. But he'd never dream of discussing such things with any of the other women present. It was simply something that should not be done but a look at his mother and his wife told Robert that it would be useless to try and persuade them to let him hear the details and cherry pick those that he deemed kind enough for their ears.

'I shouldn't be surprised though,' he thought to himself as Clarkson, bless him, tried to argue against discussing such things. It was a losing battle. Maybe if it had just been Cora they might have had a chance but with his mother and Isobel backing her up? 'Bloody hell, if Mary were thrown into the mix I dare say Scotland Yard would reveal all their secrets after an hour. Add in Sybil and Edith and they'd just begin sending reports in advance.' Out loud he let loose a sigh before waiving with his hand in Clarkson's direction. "Please… though give us as much discretion as you can."

"I would think not!" his mother said, tapping her cane on the floor. "We must hear all of it, warts and all." She held up her hand as Robert tried to protest. "I'm sorry but it is true. I am all for civility but in this matter the horrid details must be made known now that we've decided upon it."

"I… don't quite know-" Clarkson began only for mama to interrupt once more.

"Doctor, who are you more afraid of? My son? Or me?"

Robert didn't even pretend to be annoyed by that comment; even he knew what the answer would be.

Clarkson merely sighed before he began. "While I have not spent a great amount of time dealing with addiction here in Downton I have read up on the writings of doctors who did, as well as seen cadavers that show the signs. Last year, when I took those three days in London, I was able to attend a presentation at Barts-I'm sorry, St Bartholomew's Hospital, where I was able to look over the bodies of those that had succumbed to such things.

"Just dreadful," Cora whispered and Robert agreed; he certainly wouldn't have been able to spend his days looking at dead bodies and especially those that belonged to the victims of those horrid drugs. He still had nightmares of seeing his father's body and he'd been dressed in a suit with the body fully prepared, not left cold and worn on a slab.

"It is a cost if one wishes to save the living," Clarkson said. "Think of it as those poor souls doing at least one final noble act to save others."

Mama nodded at that, her lips tight and firm but twitching with a slight smile. "A pretty way to dress up a horrid truth, I suppose, but I rather like how it sounds all the same so that means it's done its job. Please continue."

"I'll start with the room," Clarkson stated. "We found the remains of his slippers and robe; they had been torn from his walk when it came to the later and the former had been removed so he might better… well, we can cover that in a moment. In his room we found… Lord Grantham, I must beg your forgiveness but I have brought one of the bottles with me," he gestured towards his bag that sat by his feet. "Might I retrieve it?"

Robert wanted to say no. To rage at the idea that the vile drug was in his house once more. But the instant that thought entered his mind it was blasted away by the need to see, to confirm the danger that had almost been passed to Mary. To understand what it was… should he ever face it again. He glanced at his mother and then Cora and both women nodded their consent and finally Robert motioned for Clarkson to draw forth the drug.

"Hard to imagine something so bland could be so dangerous," Cora said as she stared at the little brown glass bottle Clarkson had pulled out and held up for them to see, held firmly between his index finger and thumb.

"I thought it would look more… exotic," Robert said, hating how dumb he sounded. It was times like this that made him feel like the pudding-headed lords that would pop up in performed farces that the acting companies loved to present from time to time. Robert hated it whenever the audience laughed at the pompous yet befuddled lord with his fat face and stammering stupid words, blustering about on stage as he went about his life not knowing half of the going-ons of his own estate. All the more because he found himself, at times, stuck in such a role himself. "Or sinister." He held out his hand and, after a moment of clear indecision Clarkson handed the little bottle over to him, Robert feeling the weight in his hand. "I expecting something black and wicked, marked with crossbones. A green bubbling liquid that gave off horrid fumes."

"Goodness, Robert!" mama said. "You make it sound like something out of MacBeth."

"I suppose so," Robert admitted. "Still, to see something that can cause such pain be so… normal…"

"That's because it is normal," Clarkson said, taking back the bottle. "We even have a few bottles at the hospital..." he held up his hand when he saw the looks he was being given. "It is locked away where only I can get to it and I thankfully haven't had to use it for quite some time. I would normally use it as a pain reliever in the most extreme cases but, just as wine can be guzzled down, as the Americans say, so too can people become addicted to heroin. Anything in life can be turned towards evil, if in the wrong hands."

"I just can't believe we didn't see it," Cora stated. "I keep thinking back to last night, wondering what we may have missed. What could have let us know…"

"The sad fact is, Lady Grantham, that people who become ensnared by these drugs find ways of hiding the signs. The ones that last the longest are the ones that become experts in deception" He raised up his arm, gesturing towards the soft flesh on the opposite side of his elbow. "It is common to place the needle in the skin here-"

"Needle?" Robert asked.

"That is how the drug is administered," Isobel chimed in. "Right into the veins."

"Crikey," Robert whispered, appalled and horrified. He didn't like needles when it came to giving him medicine he needed. The idea that one would continually inject themselves, would pierce their flesh with metal… it showed how horrid the lives of those addicted to the drug were.

People liked to think that Robert was utterly sheltered and that he didn't understand life outside of the walls of his home. That he believed the world some wonderful place and that people were all happy with their lots because the servants always behaved with respect when it came to him and his family. But Robert knew that life outside of the Village wasn't kind. That in the deep and dark parts of London and in the villages where there wasn't a strong hand like his to guide them people easily fell into hard times and the depression and pain that came from such lives could lead people to take drastic measures to dull the agony. A recurring nightmare of his saw him wandering as a ghost through a Downton that had been reduced to ruin by bad management. Scenes of the tenants letting their fields go to rot as they drank themselves to death, servants pillaging the house, wolves and rats roaming the halls and attacking anything they could find. The dreams had lessened with Matthew's arrival but still he would have them and they would end always the same: with the voices of the Earls before him crying out their shame while the tenants yet to come wondering why he failed them.

Clarkson broke into his thoughts. "Those that truly wish to hide their addiction find ways to make it more difficult to uncover. Some take to injecting themselves between their toes-"

"My word!" Robert's mother exclaimed. "I can hardly stand revealing my bare feet to my lady's maid… for them to be willing to do such things…"

"Desperate people will take desperate measures," Isobel said sadly.

Cora cleared her throat awkwardly. "Did… Mr. Pamuk-?"

"…I am afraid so," Clarkson finally said. "I believe that he was injecting himself like that while he was here, to hide the wounds from his valet. There are some things one can't even trust with a valet, I believe."

"Thankfully I've never encountered that myself," Robert muttered.

"I think though that the stress of… what had happened the night before…" Clarkson shifted and for a moment Robert saw a flash of anger in the older man's eyes. Clarkson had been their family doctor for years and had seen Mary since she was small and for a dark moment Robert wondered what would have happened to Pamuk had Clarkson found the man alive but injured in his room. Perhaps he would have upheld his oaths…

…or perhaps he would have ensured the man never caused another innocent to need to see Clarkson again. Perhaps he would have seen a man near his end, standing on the edge… and with a shove sent him over. A shove… or the pressing of a needle.

"I think it made him desperate for the drug. He had several marks on his arm from missing the veins… I believe he injected himself once and then attempted to do so again only to not only fill himself with too much of the drug but also allow an air bubble to get inside."

"And that is… bad?" Cora asked.

"It would be fatal," Clarkson said. "And it wouldn't have been painless."

"Good," mama said. When Robert glanced at her she waved him off. "He was a vile man, Robert. While I understand why you wished to keep things quiet I am glad the man is dead and I am glad that it wasn't a peaceful end."

Robert finally sighed. "I suppose you are right." He turned to the doctor. "You will send your findings to the Turkish Embassy?"

"I will."

"I imagine this will be the end of all this," he said, looking towards the women. "The Embassy will want to keep this utterly quiet. I will do my best to keep Mary's name out of it but I don't believe that, should I need to tell them everything, any of them will be interested in dragging the events into the light of day. It will be embarrassing enough that one of their diplomats died in such a manner… they will not wish to sully his name further by revealing what saw him removed from Downton."

"Hmmm… so I suppose he has done us a favor, as loathe as I am to admit that," mama stated as Dr. Clarkson rose and made his goodbyes.

"The question now before us is how much do we tell Mary?" Cora stated.

Robert shook his head. "We tell her nothing, other than what she already knows."

"Does she not deserve to know the truth?" Isobel said. "Warts and all?"

"Not after what she went through," he argued.

Mama tapped her cane on the ground. "Robert, what she went through is exactly why we must tell her all. It will give her comfort."

He opened his mouth to complain only to let out a weary sigh, settling back into his chair. "I just want to wrap her up in cotton and keep her here forever. I want her protected and safe and never to be harmed again."

"Except she is stronger than you give her credit for," mama stated firmly. "She survived, Robert, and it will make her all the stronger. You can not let her hide herself away. No… we must let her see the sun again, to thrive and grow. Not only for herself but also as our revenge against that horrid man. Mary living a grand life free of fear will be her ultimate vengeance against him."

Robert drank heavily from his drink before nodding in agreement. "I will tell her though. If you wish to be with me you can but I want it to come from me."

"When will you tell her?" Isobel asked. "I would like to be there as well, in case she has questions that, no offense, are too medical in nature for you to answer."

"That would be kind, yes. And tomorrow. She needs her rest now. I think what she needs today is no excitement."

"Then you shouldn't have allowed Matthew to keep her company," Cora said with a smile.

"What do you mean?" Robert asked.

"Then you think…" Isobel said.

"I do," Cora stated. "After last night I truly do."

"What with last night?" Robert demanded.

"Good!" Mama said, ignoring him as she stood up. "Very good!"

"What?" Robert called out as the women left him, whispering to themselves. "Matthew keeping Mary company means what?" He stood there, alone in the library, thrusting his arms out in frustration.

In his mind he could hear the ghostly audience laughing at his antics.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: This is another chapter where I feel I hit the characters' dialogue pretty good. There is always a fear that since I am a mid-western American male I can't write an old turn of the century british woman but I think I did really well this chapter. Not much else to say other than this was a breather of a chapter and the next one should be closing out the Pamuk Saga (and saying it like that makes me think next I'll have the Cell Saga in Downton) and moving on to some long waited events: Matthew's plan to get out of the war, some of the events of the Downstairs (including a Bates free of his wife and able to properly pursue Anna) and the coming of Tom Branson and just how a confident, take charge Sybil deals with that.

I do have a question I want to ask: there is a trope called 'Growing the Beard' where a story matures and comes into its own. It usually marks when a series hits its stride and truly gets good. What would you say was the growing the beard moment for this story? Did it already have the beard from the first chapter? Have I not hit it yet? Let me know.

Now then, onto our plotbunny.

So I know I said one Twitter I had a different plot bunny in mind but the muse goes in weird directions, even with plot bunnies, and I came up with this idea literally yesterday at work. And I must say this would be one I would read a ton out of and might even consider co-authoring with someone, if they were interested.

About a year after Matthew first arrived at Downton (so maybe a month or two after Tom Branson started) Cora's mother arrives and reveals that she has chartered a private steam ship to take everyone, including the Staff and the members of Crawley House, to America, namely the new stately home she purchased in Florida. Why? Because it's Cora's mother and she doesn't need a reason! So Downton is completely emptied (Martha makes it clear she wants everyone to come... "let the servants have a vacation, Robert! They can explore New York and tell their grandkids about it!") and they all board the ship. But midway through the journey high winds and rough storms push them off course and before they know it the ship has struck a reef and everyone must abandon ship. Things look dark... until the dolphins show up.

Quickly grabbing on, the family and the staff are pulled to shore by the dolphins (who seem to even wave goodbye with their tales) and the waterlogged group looks upon the strange land... and are suddenly greeted by even stranger people. They wear odd outfits of bright colors that seem a mix of many cultures: Asian, European, American, Africa, so on and so forth. The greet them all with smiles and know instantly that they were saved by the dolphins. They are told that they are going to love it here and their new lives and the family/staff are all confused… and then shocked when the first long, graceful neck of the brachiosaur rises from the trees.

"Welcome to Dinotopia."

The fun and interest in this story would be how the characters deal with the world of Dinotopia. A world where there are no grand estates. Where the idea of Lords is utterly forgien. Where one dresses themselves and does not have an army of servants to see to their needs. Where one's birth or desires do not matter and they are free to become whoever they wish to be. Some would struggle… some would embrace it with open arms. I imagine a ton of fights and squabbles among the group as they struggle to find their place in such a world… while for others it is like finally coming home.

A few thoughts I have, concerning characters and how they would react. Let's start with Downstairs.

I think Bates would find Dinotopia absolutely freeing. No one knows his past. Vera no longer haunts him. I believe in the short run he'd remain with the family out of loyalty to Robert but soon he and Anna would begin to explore the world, both scared and frightened. For them I believe things would change the least: they would eventually decide to set up an inn and live a long happy life together.

For Thomas I see him much like the character of Hugh in Windchaser. At first he would see this as a world where he might conquer it, in his own way. Steal something, tell some lies… but as he came to realize there was no trick, that these people were honest and kind and truly willing to embrace him, he'd go through a dark period of self-loathing until, finally, he'd pull himself up and make himself a better man. It was never addressed in the books but I feel that homosexuality wouldn't be an issue in Dinotopia and Thomas would be able to find love. As for a job I think he'd remember all his father taught him about clocks and he'd end up doing something like that.

Carson and Mrs. Hughes would utterly struggle. Carson wouldn't know what to do with himself, as he had no power to keep the staff together and there would be no one interested in hiring on. And as the family began to explore there would be less and less of a need for him. Mrs. Hughes less so but I could see her feeling that this is an adventure for the young and she is too old. They'd eventually find their way but they would struggle, especially with the idea that dinosaurs are equals to man.

…and if a joke could be made where Carson sees the head of Waterfall City and comments he'd never be caught dead in that outfit I would smile (Jim Carter was the head of Waterfall City in the miniseries)

Mrs. Patmore and Daisy would struggle as well but for different reasons: no meat other than fish and almost everyone is a vegetarian. It would really mess with her and Daisy and make it hard for them to adapt. Perhaps they'd have to be taught all over again and Mrs. Patmore would struggle with being a novice once more.

O'Brien wouldn't know what to do. But, depending on the author, maybe her story here could be one of romance, with her finding and older gentlemen who could teach her the ways of Dinotopia.

Gwen would embrace all of this with glee. I see her becoming a Skybax rider and being the first of the group to truly excel in the new world.

Tom would need time but only because he'd want to make sure that everyone was truly equal. He'd talk with the dinosaurs and the people and quiz them and they'd find him highly amusing. Eventually he'd accept that this is as close to a socialist paradise as he could hope and he'd become involved with politics, in a way, working to keep Dinotopia running smoothly.

Molesley would be another one that would struggle at first but for him I see him going along a similar path as his canon story. He'd eventually learn that there is a thirst for news of the outside world and become a historian, recording down the histories of the world while also learning the histories of Dinotopia.

For the family Sybil would be the first to easily adapt, much to the fright of the family. I see her instantly falling in love with dinosaurs and wanting to help them and becoming perhaps a hatchary assistant, tending to the eggs and helping the newborns.

Edith would be next and I see her as the first to truly move far, far away from the family, deciding to reinvent herself. I can see a storyline where some of the cast must cross the Rainy Basin where the noble savages that are the t-rexes live and right when it looks like the caravan may be attacked Edith arrives riding on a dinosaur and scolds a Rex and sends him off to where she left fish, having become a ranger-like person.

Mary would have a hard time. For her this place would be horrid because everything she is good at doesn't matter and she has no skills to aid. I think she'd go into a terrible depression until finally finding something new she is good at. Maybe befriending a dinosaur who could help her on her journey?

As for Matthew he would also struggle at first as there are no need for lawyers on Dinotopia but unlike Mary he would decide to find a new path. I could see him ending up in the library, doing research, maybe even working with Molesley, the two becoming partners.

Isobel would be much like Tom and would adapt quickly, just needing a refresher course. Unlike Mrs. Hughes she would see the challenge of learning as a young person's game… but she can now feel young again!

Robert, Cora,and Violet would cling to their old lives and it would lead to a lot of humor. They'd find their place eventually but it wouldn't be easy.