For the first time in ages Robert felt like he could breathe easy again. The constant pressures and stresses of the last few weeks (and if he were to be honest the last few years) were far lighter as he stood in Boodle's most private of smoking rooms. Not the main area, where he had first met Mat-the coward, but one of the far more exclusive rooms where the only key that would unlock its doors was a proper title. And Earl of Grantham still carried weight, even after all that had been done to sully its standing. He was dressed in his best suit, a glass of finely aged whiskey in one hand and a perfectly rolled cigar in the other. He was surrounded by men of peerage and proper breeding, discussing the state of their lands and homes as well as the news of the realm (never gossip... shame on the chap who degraded what they did to such idle talk!).
Robert needed this. He needed to be amongst people who he respected and who respected him in turn. Men who might look upon him with pity for what he was going through but never hold it against him. Never color him with the same shameful yellow that painted the rest of his family. Instead they wouldn't say a word, granting him the respect he deserved by not dredging up such vile things.
And vile they were. It seemed as if his entire family had decided to deliver blow upon blow to his personage without any regard for how it might hurt their standing within the realm.
The latest blow was Cora. After Lothrop (Robert refused to call him 'General' for the man had disgraced that title and did not deserve it) had made a mockery of him and Downton Robert had gone to bed in a dark mood, sleeping in his dressing room as was him habit of late. Cora had made it clear early in the war that she wanted nothing to do with him, her hot American blood making her act utterly irrational and lash out at him, the victim of the entire sad affair, rather than Mary and the rest of the girls since they weren't around to be targets. Robert hadn't pushed the matter, assuming that she would eventually come to her senses and when she hadn't he had found himself stubbornly refusing to give in and play her childish games. She wanted him to return and beg to be allowed into his own bed, to make himself the fool. He wouldn't give her that. When she wanted to see reason and behave like a lady he would accept her apology but he wouldn't beg for it. He had far too much pride to do that.
'But perhaps I merely fell into her trap,' he thought to himself, a moment of darkness piercing the happiness he felt in being away from Downton and back in London among his peers. 'She waited for the right moment, when my focus was elsewhere, and then struck.'
It had been just after breakfast the day after the disaster that was the charity concert, when Robert had been trying to figure out a way to undo the damage Lothrop had done with his petty tantrum, that Carson had delivered the news that Robert's wife was no where to be found. After a deep search of Downton it had become clear that Cora wasn't in the house and it had been the butler who had struck on the thought to check on Lillian. Seeing her gone too Robert knew that Cora had fled and he had called for the constable to come so he might interrogate the staff and discover if she had done so on her own of her free will or if others had snatched her away. He wouldn't have been surprised if that bastard Lothrop had captured him for some deluded scheme. But that hadn't been the case at all… Cora had left on her own accord.
'Perhaps I was a bit too harsh,' he thought to himself, feeling a small pang of guilt as he remembered how Nanny had stormed out of Downton after the questioning; her pride had been hurt by being questioned by law enforcement and Robert could admit he might... MIGHT... had been too harsh with her. But he was worried about his wife! Could she blame him? 'Well, yes I suppose she did. And then there is O'Brien. Damn it all, that cost me a pretty penny.' Cora's lady's maid had been in even a worse mood than the nanny after she had been questioned and it had only been one of the maids, Edna or Ethel or something like that, alerting him to her rampage that had seen Robert arrive outside to find her packing her case and preparing to leave. Knowing that he couldn't afford to have any more staff leave without causing whispers in the village he had tapped down his anger and gotten her to agree to stay on a few weeks, in case Cora was found quickly, and after that he'd promised her the most glowing of references. 'She put good use to that,' he thought, taking a puff from his cigar and letting the smoke warm his lungs before he let loose a ring of white from his lips. After the three weeks, where she had he assumed done little but sit and waste time while still getting paid, she had left Downton and promptly gotten a position in the Forton estate as Lady Forton's lady's maid.
Robert wished he'd let her go as it would have at least saved him a bit of money. It had been Carson and Mrs. Hughes that had delivered the news that Cora had fled to London with Lothrop, asking for 'sanctuary' and help in reuniting with their daughters. Robert had briefly considered going to the Grantham Arms and finally having a conversation with Bates about his lack of loyalty and remind him just whose land his business sat on, but Mrs. Hughes had talked him out of it, convincing him that it would do no good and that they were innocents in the matter, torn between loyalties.
'She had the right of that. In any other circumstance I would have thanked them for helping Cora. They didn't realize the damage they were doing... how could they? They are mere servants!' When he'd found out just where Cora had gone he had wanted to go to London to sort things out but realized that he had no one to turn to that could assist him. 'Mama was out of the question... she was seen talking with Cora before she left and I wouldn't be shocked if she were plotting with her... no, Mama would do many things but she wouldn't humiliate me like that. More likely she planted the idea in Cora's head and is now too ashamed to admit it. But still, she won't help me on that front as she is trying to stay neutral. I know too few people who can assist me in London and I dare not call upon the few that I do for such a thing. It would be the talk of high society! And Rosamund is simply out. She's more of a recluse these days than someone I might turn to for support.' Thus Cora had been protected and Robert had decided to wait for her much as he waited for the girls to come to their senses, claiming to any that asked that his wife was visiting friends in London and lending support in their time of need. It was a common thing, with so many suffering and losing loved ones due to the War, and none questioned it. 'Thankfully she has been keeping a low profile. I don't know how I'd explain it if she were attending luncheons and stately dinners.'
Taking another drink from a waiter that walked past, placing his 3rd ('4th? 5th?') empty glass on the tray Robert took a long slow sip of the liquid, feeling it warm his body. It had been raining all day and looked to continue and even with the heat of the fire going there was a chill in the air that refused to leave him no matter where he went.
"Ah, Robert!" He turned and smiled as Martin Edgecliff, the Lord of Braxton, walked over and greeted him with a smile and a handshake. "It's been too long."
"Yes, it has been. Matters have kept us both from visiting as much as we used to I suppose." While not as close to the man as he was some of his neighbors like Richard Gray or Skeltons he and Martin had been part of the same circles in their youth and Martin had even given a toast to Robert at the party held just before he'd gone to the States to court Cora, wishing him the greatest of lucky and safety in that wild country.
"Yes, I can imagine... I have heard quite a bit about the Crawleys and all the wonderful things they are doing as of late. It seems all of London is speaking of your family."
"Oh?" Robert asked, pushing down the hope that Martin was referring to himself. He knew that while he had been doing his part to help with the war effort it wasn't nearly enough to get London whispering. That meant that he had to be referring to his daughters and Robert's stomach sank as he braced himself for the japes; he'd hoped that Martin would be above such things.
"Quite. Lady Sybil is quite close to the military establishment, you know, and her efforts are seeing the care for those brought back from the front increase far more than we could have ever expected. Certainly more than we got back in the Boer War."
Robert forced a smile on his lips. "Well, it is nice of the doctors to let her feel like she is part of things."
"I'd say she is more than just some small part-"
"And I must say that while I am all for caring for the truly injured I don't know about some of the care that is being given and new ailments they are recognizing. Shell shock? Humf, sounds more like cowardly men trying to get away from the fighting because they lack the spine to fight. We shouldn't be coddling them so. Only make the burden all the worse on those who do fight."
"Perhaps," Martin said hesitantly. "But there are other injuries they are aiding with and there is talk of some institutes staying open to assist with those that were injured so they might reenter our society-"
"See, that's just piffle," Robert said before he drained his glass and motioned for another to be brought over. "There were plenty of jobs for able bodied men before the war and plenty after. I'm lacking in footmen and valets and I wouldn't judge a man if he had a scar on his cheek. In fact I'd think more of him. It shows that he did his duty and bled for England."
"It's more than..." Martin stopped and decided to change the subject. "Well, there is Lady Edith. My wife loves reading the Sketch and ever since your daughter began working there I find myself glancing at it myself... though not when Rebecca knows it." He chuckled at that. Robert laughed but something in Martin's eyes made him stop, as he must have let slip his disbelief that anything Edith was involved with could be so entertaining. He loved his children but they weren't wordsmiths and masters of moving the heart. More likely it was Michael Gregson who wrote Edith's articles and let her place her name on them to buck up her ego. A fine enough thing to do in small doses but dangerous if one went too far. "And then there is Lady Mary."
"Oh?" Robert said darkly as the waiter brought him another glass. "And what does she do? Sit around making snide remarks?"
"...actually she has begun to gain a reputation as a baker. She donates much of what she makes to support the war effort-"
"Mary? A baker?" Robert said, for the first time startled. "Getting her hands coated in flour? Breaking eggs? Doing whatever... things a baker does in the kitchen? My Mary?" Martin opened his mouth but Robert laughed, cutting him off. "No. You must have her mistaken for another Mary. My Mary is a vain and arrogant child who'd never get her hands dirty like that. No, she is far too busy covering for that coward of a husband of her's. The middle class lawyer she ran off with."
"I-"
"You know he tricked his way out of fight?" Robert asked, raising his glass to his lips and taking a quick sharp drink before continuing. "It's true. Was too scared to go to the front and fight with the real men. The true heroes. No, that is my heir, Martin... a coward who doesn't want to get a bit of mud on his shiny buttons. God, what did I ever do to deserve that? I ask you that... what did I ever do to deserve such a man as my heir? How can he not see the glories this war is allowing men to drape upon themselves? Glories he could bring to our house! But no, he can't do his duty and fight the good fight... he refused because he got scared. As if anything would have happened-" Robert went to finish his drink but Martin, to his surprise, yanked it out of his hands and for a moment Robert thought the man might actually throw it into the fire beside them. But instead he found his restraint and chose to merely set it down on a nearby end table.
"My son Francis enlisted, you know."
Robert remembered Francis Edgecliff well. He was the type of son and heir every lord dreamed of. Tall with a regal face and a powerful build that made him overwhelm lesser men. Not the large blocky build of a dockworker or a pugilist but the classical build one found in the greek statues of old: broad shoulders and a wide chest that tapered down to a trim waist and long muscular legs. When he spoke even a whisper felt like a thunder clap from above and when he laughed the entire world laughed with him. He was a commander among peasants no matter who he found gathered around him. When Robert thought of Francis and compared him to Matthew, with his thin build and sour face Robert couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.
"I was so proud of him when he did so," Martin continued, his voice quiet with a hollow edge to it. "It was only a few weeks after his wedding... he and Florence were away when the news broke that we'd entered the conflict, that's why Iris and I couldn't attend that summer party you threw."
"I remember," Robert stated, suddenly wondering if he'd remembered to send a note apologizing for not attending Francis' wedding. Things had been hectic around that time and he knew there was a reason why they hadn't attended but he was sure they sent a note... "I meant to-"
But Martin continued on, not letting him finish. "They came back early and Francis gathered us all in the drawing room to tell us how he was going to do his duty. I remember how he stood next to the window and the sun was shining on him and it seemed like he could defeat the entire German army all on his own. And that was before he got his uniform... oh, how he looked in that, even as a private. Not that he stayed one for long. He rose up quickly, making it to Lieutenant. He was able to visit a few times and every time I saw him I marveled at him in his uniform, looking so noble and proud."
"I can only imagine," Robert said, unable to hide his envy.
Martin merely continued to stare at him, his lips twisted in something of a smile but not quite. A mockery of a grin. "He was so dashing, my Francis. So brave and cunning. I prefer to think of him that way. To hold that image in my mind."
"He sounds like-" Robert stopped and Martin's words suddenly sunk in. The tense he was using. A swelling of dark dread filled his heart.
"Remember what they told us when we were training?" Martin asked with a voice like iron. "That the only bullet you'll never hear is the one that kills you? I wonder if that was true for my boy." His lips moved but no words came out and Robert could only stare with dawning horror as his friend fought to regain control of himself. "They didn't want to show us, of course. And I agreed when it came to Iris and Florence. But I had to see. I had to know. Because if I didn't I would be haunted by the question if it were true. Could there be a mistake? Could Francis be out there? Could it not be some other chap that we buried and my son would walk through the doors at any moment and cast aside that nightmare?" The man swallowed hard. "It was his hands I had to identify, Robert. The scar he got from a hunting hound. That was my only option. There wasn't anything left of his... no, I don't want to speak of it. I can't."
"Martin," Robert whispered with pity. He now understood the man's anger. His son had died doing his duty while cowards like Matthew lived on. It should have been him, that country lawyer, who was died, not proud and noble Francis-
"Florence only got a few weeks with her husband. A few weeks of wedded bliss. She didn't even have a chance to tell him she was pregnant with their child. Francis died never knowing he was going to have a son. All she has now are those handful of moments, those tiny slips of happiness, while all the many years they should have been together, all those days that will never come to be, have been traded away for a widow's veil.
"And then I think of my grandson. Ollie. I think of him and all that has been stolen from him. Of the brothers and sisters that will now never be and the laughter that shall never echo through the halls of my estate. Being lifted upon his father's shoulders as they walk about, Francis happily answering every question he may have just as I had done for him. Seeing his mother smile with true joy again, not burdened with grief and loss. He won't be able to go to him when he is scared or squeal in delight when he sees him return home. He'll have none of that. I will do my best but I am an old man, Robert, and a poor replacement for his father. I should be his grandfather, giving him treats and telling him stories… that has been stolen from him as well. I… I will do all I can to hide it but every time I see him I will mourn because Francis' ghost will be between us.
"Glory. Glory. For glory I have gained a tombstone that I should have never seen. That is the glory this bloody war gave to my family!" Martin tried to reined himself in but the damage was done and Robert looked about to see everyone staring at them, an audience to it all, to his shame that Matthew- "Because my son was 'brave'. Because he sought to bring glory to our family name." Martin trembled for a moment. "I wish… every damn day… that my son had been a 'coward' like your Matthew. That he had refused to fight, found a way out of this madness. Because if he had… he'd still be here instead of buried in the ground after dying in a land I couldn't give a damn about!"
Robert opened his mouth to say something. To comfort his friend who was clearly in pain and speaking without thinking, but when he looked about he was startled to find that so many in the room were looking at them… and nodding in agreement with Martin's words.
"You call him coward because he was smart?" Martin asked, the agony and rage in his voice clear for all to hear. "Because he saw what was coming? Because he saw a way to serve that wouldn't risk himself and his family?"
"He… he was scared-"
"I wish Francis had been scared!" Martin snapped, voice shaking with unshed tears. "What I wouldn't give to go back and grasp him by the arms and tell him he could be scared… he should be terrified and frightened beyond messure and not go. To find another way. Like Matthew did."
The words came out before Robert could stop them, the old familiar song that he'd been singing for two years. "Matthew is a coward-"
"WE ARE ALL COWARDS!" Martin roared, flinging his arms out wide. "Each of us! We stand here in this club, drinking our scotch and smoking our cigars and letting our sons and our brothers and grandchildren suffer and die! Why? Why!? Because we won't do it. It's… it's easier to let them carry the burden. We fought in war and saw how bad it could be but we forgot. You and I and all the rest of us… we only remember the fun little adventures and now our families are being destroyed because of that! If… if we had been braver… if the entire world had been braver… we would have cast ego aside so that they could live. But we didn't." He shut his eyes and grew quiet and Robert thought for a moment that he was done. He stared at his friend, horrified at what he had witnessed but before he could explore exactly what had horrified him and the ramifications of that Martin spoke again. "And now like true cowards… we make ourselves feel better by mocking those that don't live up to our standards. And… and more than that… we judge those that do their part but don't take the needless risk! Like Matthew. Do you understand that, Robert? Do you understand that he is still doing his part? That day in and day out he is here trying to get the weapons and the armor and vehicles and everything else that will save the ones that weren't as lucky as him? Do not think that when he fails, that when the supplies do not get there in time he does not grieve? I would… I would do far more than that. He is stronger than all of us and you belittle him!"
Martin began to point out others in the room, men that Robert knew and admired who now stared at him with judging eyes. And for the first time in two years he was beginning to understand why. "Peter's brother lost an arm. Tony's nephew was captured by the Germans. Nicholas lost a son and a cousin. Same too with Richard." Each time he named one of them they bowed their heads in grief or nodded silently in acceptance of the loss. Martin continued on, naming those that weren't there until it seemed that the entire room was filled with names of those lost… and those that had been left behind to grieve.
And Robert stood alone, silent and stunned.
Finally Martin turned to address him. "You think we look at you and mock your life? No Robert. We don't mock you. We envy you. And we hate you. A little. Not because your heir is a coward… but because your family is whole. Complete. And you scorn that blessing. You cast it aside like a filthy rag. Your daughters are alive and loved and known joy and you toss that all away! When all the rest of us would give up anything to have what you have been given! I would BURN every inch of my lands and salt the earth so nothing could ever grow again and be reduced to a pauper… if I could have my boy back. And you could see your girls tonight! They are here in this city and you will do nothing! You could see Matthew, your daughter's husband, your heir, and you won't? You won't and you think that's noble of you!"
Peter Sommer walked over and laid a hand on Martin's shoulder, whispering in his ear and pulling him away from Robert. But Martin turned back and stared at Robert, stared at him and refused to allow him to look away. And that gaze, even though it lasted for a moment, felt as if it were an eternity. An eternity in the darkest depths of Hell itself.
"I kindly ask you… never talk to me again… if your greatest pain in life… is that your family lives."
Robert looked around, mouth open but wordless, heart clenching but stunned silent, mind racing but struck dumb, and did the only thing he could do.
He ran.
~MC~MC~MC~
Violet Crawley had a routine and all that worked for her knew it. Or, at the very least, those that lasted more than a few days knew it. She liked to wake up on her own terms, not because some pesky bird chose to sing outside her window or the sun decided to rise at an unseemly hour. After that she liked to dine at an actual table, not in bed, for when one reached a certain age they liked stability and didn't want to worry about shifting about and knocking their food this way or that. But she also hated dressing on an empty stomach so it was expected that the cook would provide a few easy to eat items that she might dine on as she waited for her lady's maid to get out her garments for the day. A muffin perhaps or a bit of toast with jam. After that she would have her true breakfast before retiring to her study so she might go over the morning mail, answering correspondences from relatives and certain people of interest. Recently Mr. Mason had become a rather friendly one to receive letters from, the man having surprised her by how well read he was. Where many of his class could barely string a few words together, if read at all, Mr. Mason had taught himself to read and possessed a fair amount of knowledge concerning the caring for of lands. She had decided that when she next saw Lord Merton she would pass along the suggestion to talk with the man, for it was always a smart idea for the owner of lands to understand their care. Had her husband known that perhaps he wouldn't have nearly ruined them.
After that she would go over her calendar and set about with her visits and duties. The hospital, the different charities she patroned, so forth. Then, depending on her mood, she would either go to Downton and box Robert's ear about how foolish he was being, plan a trip to London to see the family (and quietly grieve that Downton and The Family were no longer connected), or just return home for a quiet night in.
What she did NOT like was her routine broken. And she CERTAINLY didn't like being awoken at 2 in the morning by her lady's maid.
"My lady," Hensen said quietly, her hand on the bed (not on Violet, thank goodness! She wasn't some peasant that needed to be thrashed about in order to wake). "My lady, I am sorry to disturb you-"
"You already have," Violet grumbled, quickly coming awake. She was tired but she refused to yawn or be slow to respond. She was in far more control of herself than that. "What is it?"
"You are needed at once in the drawing room."
"I… whatever for?" She began to rise.
"I can't say, my lady. Spratt only said that I was to get you at once."
"I am not fond of mysteries, Hensen, you know that."
"I know and when I pressed Spratt he refused to say a word. He said he was uncomfortable knowing and he said you would be glad that I and no one else in the house knew."
That got Violet's interest raised. If it were merely bad news Spratt wouldn't have been so secretive. No, something else was going on, something that required the lightest of touches. It remained to be seen if she would be thanking Spratt for his actions or casting him out for foolishness. "Do I need to dress?"
"Spratt said you'd be fine in a robe, my lady," Hensen replied, having already gotten one.
"Curiouser and curiouser," Violet muttered before donning the robe and pulling it tightly around her frame, slipping her feet into a pair of slippers that Cora had gotten her a few years ago. She rarely wore them but they were nice for when one needed to get up and shuffle across a cold floor. "Remain here, Hensen… we'll determine if you are needed when I return."
Making her way downstairs Violet, started a bit when the house gave a sudden rattle. The weather had taken a warm turn, though she knew that they weren't close enough to spring for it to last, and rather than a swirl of quiet snow they were getting a pounding rainstorm that seemed to boom all about her. She moved down the hall and found her butler standing at the door of drawing room, shifting nervously as he did so.
'Good. He should be nervous, waking me at this hour and refusing me answers.' He moved to him and said, "Well Spratt, I am here. What strange occurrence has brought about this game of yours?"
"No game, your ladyship, and I think you will forgive me for the secrecy." With that he opened the door and Violet stepped inside.
The retort she was about to make died on her lips at the sight before her. There, sitting on her settee, was Robert. He was soaked to the bone, his clothing sticking to his skin, hair plastered to his head, and a puddle forming around his sodden shoes. Even with the rainwater that dripped off of him she could see the tears that were rolling down his checks from his bloodshot eyes and when he looked at her she was transported back to when he'd been two years old and a large hairy spider had startled him in the garden and he had come running to her in utter terror. Nanny had tried to get to him but Violet had gathered him up in her arms and kissed his forehead and rocked him till he fell asleep, exhausted from the ordeal.
"Mama," Robert choked out, looking at her with abject misery. "What have I done?"
She knew. In that moment she knew. The monster that had replaced her son and worn his skin for two years was gone, banished at long last. Her boy had returned. And once more she went to him and she didn't care about how damp he was or how cold his skin felt against her own. She sat down next to him and wrapped her arms around him, Robert weeping as he clung to her. She ran her fingers along his head and murmured in his ear as she rocked back and forth, never hearing Spratt, bless his soul, shut the door and leave them alone.
Her son had returned to her.
But unlike with the spider all the troubles would not be gone when she finally let him go. For it hadn't been a monster who had caused the damage but Robert himself. And in the morning would come the hard part. Yet she did not care. Robert had finally come back to her.
And now they could finally fix their family.
~MC~MC~MC~
Author's Notes: And we come to it at last… Robert FINALLY getting some sense knocked into his head and realized just how wrong he has been.
Welcome to the end of Part 1 of Series 2. And Welcome to the beginning of Part 2.
For our plotbunny we are going to go with a Modernish AU that I think would offer a ton of fun.
Downton University is one of the most premier educational centers in the world. Students that graduate with a Downton Degree know that they don't merely have a leg up on others... they are guaranteed jobs that others could only dream of. It doesn't matter what the degree is in, you graduate there and the world is yours. Robert Crawley, the Dean of the School, knows this all too well. His mother was Dean before him and it had been his hope that his daughter, Mary, would take over for him. Mary is head of the Business Department and runs a very tight ship, suffering no fools be they students or professors. She is ready for it to be her time to run Downton.
Cora, who runs the Theater department, is more than ready for Robert to retire so that they can enjoy their golden years. Edith, who is a professor in the Journalism and Communications department, is already typing up her resignation to the head of her department as the last thing she wants to do is have Mary as a boss, though one of the librarians, Bertie, is trying to talk her out of it, as is fellow Journalism professor Michael. And Sybil is trying to work up the nerve to tell her parents that she wants to leave the Marketing program she's been in for the last few years and take Nursing thanks in part to the encouragement of her secret boyfriend, Tom, whose told her to stop worrying about the family plans for her to take over that department one day and instead do what she wants to do.
But everything changes for the family when they turn on the news one morning, Robert at his university-paid-for manor, Mary her apartment, Edith in her office, and Sybil at Tom's place, and see James and Patrick Crawley's faces plastered all over the news, being led out of their home in handcuffs. The news comes swift and is devastating: James and Patrick, the head of Downton's athletic department and the heir apparent, were both covering up for Coach Greene, who had sexually assault many of the student athletes he coached for the school's basketball team. And as this was dug into more and more rot was found in the athletic department. Bribes. Drugs. Cheating. Threats. Suddenly Downton is being talked about on the nightly news every single day.
While thankfully it is clear that the corruption ends with James and Patrick the Trustees begin to question Robert's hiring of so many family members and if it were nepotism that allowed all of this to happen. Old whispers of what Robert's father did when Violet was dean crop up and attention is on the entire family. Thus Robert, seeing no choice, informs Mary that he can not make her his replacement... he can't even risk naming her as such without him being fired and losing much of his pension and benefits. The only choice is to find someone else.
Enter Matthew Grantham, head of the Law Department at Manchester College. A highly sought after candidate by many colleges Robert offers Matthew the position as Head of the Law Department and the announcement that he will take over as Dean. Mary is of course enraged and it only gets worse when she spies on Matthew teaching a class: not dressed in a suit but jeans and an unbuttoned shirt with a concert tee under that! Not standing by a podium but walking around chatting with the students. He even hangs out with them after class! She saw him sitting with them in the Student Common eating fries and playing the guitar!
Oh yes, this will not do!
A few more characters to introduce:
-John Bates, Robert's best friend who runs the Criminal Justice Department.
-Anna Smith, Mary's secretary and best friend
-Gwen, Sybil's best friend and Anna's cousin, getting a degree in business
-Charles Carson, Head of the history department. A firm supporter of Mary.
-Elsie Hughes, Head of the Library, Bertie's boss
-Tom Branson, into his graduate program for Engineering. A rebel.
-Thomas Barrow, Tom's roommate, currently in the medical program. In the closet.
-Mrs. Patmore, head of the culinary department.
-Daisy, just awarded a scholarship to Downton and Gwen and Sybil's neighbor at the dorm. Naive and in need of help.
-Isobel Grantham, Matthew's mother who is running for political office. Not thrilled with matthew going to Downton.
