"Are you sure I should be here?" Lavinia asked, tugging on the ends of her coat like she expected to be able to make the garmet suddenly transform into something else.

It was a rather endearing little train of hers, Mary had noticed, one that her friend always ended up doing whenever she was unsure of herself and a situation. Mary understood that she was far different from Lavinia when it came to social gatherings and interactions. No matter the situation she could easily find a way to integrate herself into the structure. At small dinner parties she knew when to be the center of attention and when to fade into the background and merely observe, which she'd found actually tended to make people become more interested in her. It created an air of mystery that was more enticing than if she suddenly became to center of attention; she'd never admit she'd figured that out from watching Edith and she CERTINALLY had never told her sister that…

At large gatherings numbers in the hundreds she would drift from pocket to pocket of guests, making her presence known then leaving before she overstayed her welcome. She'd talk for a few minutes, listen for a few more, and leave on a joke or a cunning observation. Carson of all people had taught her that one after observing her having problems at one of her family's larger events. He'd been careful giving the information but given it all the same, explaining that all the great performers knew when to 'take a bow'.

And it didn't matter what the standing of those around her were; she could easily blend in with them. While back during her Downton days she would have been awkward around the lower classes her time in London had given her a better understanding of them. Oh, she wouldn't go walking into some wharf pub filled with grizzled sailors slurping down booze that could strip the paint off the walls but she could chat with the Middle Class well enough so that they didn't feel like she was some vile intruder come to make a mockery of them. With the wealthy elite it was high culture and the arts. With the Middle Class it was commiserating on shop keeps and discussing her baking… and how she enjoyed watching people's jaws dropped when she explained her method for making pies (the trick was to wrap the crust around a rolling pin; that way when one laid it down it went smoothly over the pan without cracking or tearing).

But Lavinia was different. When she was comfortable with you she was an utter delight. Polite yet firm, able to battle one with her wits yet leave you feeling as if it had been a jolly good time had by all no matter the outcome. Mary so did enjoy debating her because there was never any fire, any anger in their words. Lavinia was convinced of her position but did so in a way that was a delight… and made Mary want to be the same way. No door mat, to be sure, but she also wasn't someone who made you half loathe their company or grit your teeth when they didn't see things your way. It wasn't like with Granny and Isobel, who would gravitate towards each other and then fight like two cats forced into a cedar chest. When Mary was with her, or a few of the other ladies that Lavinia gravitated towards (no one that Mary was truly close to but could hold a conversation with all the same), she was passionate but inviting.

With strangers and strange situations though she became quiet and would fidget, trying her hardest to simply fade into the background and not draw attention to herself. She would allow others to step forward, to be the center of attention, not realizing that with her looks and kind features such actions only served to draw the gazes of others who couldn't help but wonder who she was and what she was doing there. Much like with Mary's 'air of mystery' all Lavinia did was make people want to be around her even as she shrank away.

"Where else should you be, darling?" Mary asked as they waited for their table to be confirmed. They were eating at The Eastern Rose, one of the higher-end restaurants that was situated in Knightsbridge. Inspired by the grand success of the Japanese Village Exhibit that had been presented in 1885 The Eastern Rose was decorated like a Tokyo tea house while still serving meals that were at once familiar to an English palette. It was a place that Mary would no longer step foot in, for the cost of a meal there would mean dining alone in the Lothrop house for over a week, but she wasn't surprised that when she'd finally accepted her mother's request to have a meal with the caveat that she select some place that was simple mama had thought The Eastern Rose was living like a common person.

'If I took her to some of the places Sybil ate at I think she'd lose all her hair from fright!' Mary thought with a mental laugh.

"Shouldn't this be a private dinner with just you and your mother?" Lavinia asked.

"Let me assure you that is the very last thing I want," Mary said with a roll of her eyes. "My family doesn't do private meals where it is only two people eating together. Not unless something terrible has happened to everyone else. No… it is expected I bring a guest, as Mama will do the same. If I showed up alone it would be a signal that something was very wrong."

The man at the door moved to collect their coats, taking Mary's long maroon winter coat (a gift from Mathew from the previous Christmas though Mary very much suspected that Cat had played a role in selecting it because while she loved her husband he was a fool when it came to picking out proper colors for a lady) and Lavinia's dark brown coat and handed each of them a small claim ticket while the host motioned for them to follow.

"But isn't something very wrong? Isn't that why you are having this lunch date to beign with? Won't your mother be upset that I am here?" Lavinia asked. "I imagine she will want to speak with you about private matters."

"If she wanted to speak of private matters she would have not invited me to lunch," Mary said. "Among the peerage one does not use a meal such as this to discuss politics. Well, not openly. Casual hints, teasing whispers, those will be said. But such conversations are held for later, when there is a crowd around but one can quietly sit at a table with just the two of you or sneak away into a room." She smiled and nodded towards their table where Mama was already seated with Lady Marchgrove. "See, she invited someone along as well. You two will keep us honest and pleasant."

"Would you truly cause a scene if you were alone?"

"I'd like to say no but who can say, honestly? My family tends to cause me to act in such strange and improper ways… and I tend to do the same to them." She smiled as the two older women rose. "Ah, mama," Mary said, acting as if the two of them hadn't been feuding for two years and were still on such rocky terrain that letters between the them had to be read over carefully by others to ensure that nothing improper was said. "Thank you for the invitation."

"You are more than welcome and thank you for coming," her mother said. She was dressed very prim and proper, in a brand new dress and hat, while Mary had selected one of her best outfits but not gone out of her way to buy something new. Matthew had told her they could afford it, but she had waved him off; the money they saved was for their future and she would not spend a dime of it on her mama, who had come to represent her past. No, she much preferred to imagine those pounds going to buy toys for their future children than being wasted on impressing her mother. "May I present my dearest friend Miss Lavinia Swire."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Swire," Mama said, taking the woman's fingers gently in her own before turning to her own companion. "And may I introduce you to Lady Eleanor Marchgrove of Hawkdell."

A few years older than Mary's mother with light brown hair and a thin but inviting face, Lady Eleanor had been one of the first people to welcome mama into English society after her marriage to papa. Where others had been polite but standoffish concerning the American that many felt had only married Robert Crawley to earn a title (with more than one whispering that she had 'bought' her standing) Lady Eleanor had been quick to welcome her to her new life. She'd been the first to invite Mama to tea and ask her to assist with some charities in London when they two happened to be staying there. The friendship had been so great that when Edith had been born Mama had decided to name the woman godmother to her child. The Marchgroves hadn't been able to come to Downton in recent years due to her son Lord Hendrick Marchgrove Junior needing to stay in London to deal with some illness (it was polite not to ask but the rumor was that said illness was some farmer's daughter that he'd fallen for and wished to marry and thus a change of scenery was needed to nip that in the bud) but when Mama and Lillian had fled into exile Lady Eleanor had opened her house to them without thought.

Mary was pleased with her mother's choice in dining companions; she'd been half afraid she'd try to bring Aunt Rosalynn in hopes of mending that fence as well. Her father's sister was hard enough to dine with when one didn't have baggage, let alone with the disgust Mary still felt for the hypocrite for daring to suggest she set aside Matthew purely because of title. Lady Eleanor was a good neutral pick; loyal to mama, yes, but not one to try and force the issue. And understanding of how these sorts of things went. The lunch would go exactly as Mary had told Lavinia it would: small talk, false pleasantries to hide how fraught the relationship between the two Crawleys truly was, and then they would leave with promises to do it again sometime. The true breaking of the ice between them, should that actually come to pass, would not occur for some time. At least if Mary had her way that would be the case. And Lady Eleanor would understand this and not try and push things too fast or too far. It spoke well to the idea that Mama understood how unstable the sands she stood on truly were.

Settling in their chairs Mary began to look over her menu, deciding that since it would be Lady Eleanor who paid for the meal she wouldn't splurge. Oh, her mother would claim that she was treating Mary but with nothing to her name thanks to Papa controlling the purse strings it was Lady Eleanor's kindness that would allow mama to 'pay'.

"Swire…" Lady Eleanor said. "You wouldn't happen to be related to either Jonathan or Reginald Swire, would you?"

"I am," Lavinia said, surprised. "Jonathan is my uncle and Reginald my uncle.. father." Lavinia blushed. "Sorry. Reginald is my father."

"Jonathan and Reginald?" mama prompted.

Lady Eleanor smiled. "Jonathan is a Liberal Minister. I don't know much about him, to be honest… my head has never been one for politics, I admit. But I do know of Reginald Swire. I dare say there are few who live in London who don't know of him… at least that was the case before the War. Now there seems to be an influx of new blood all throughout the city."

"I am surprised you know my father, " Lavinia stated. "He isn't one for social events."

"No but he is the talk of them many times. There isn't a company in London who does business without going to see Reginald Swire."

Mary was surprised by that, thinking of the quiet man she had met only a couple of times but had been quite charmed by. He was a simple fellow, not in terms of education as most used the term, but rather tastes. He kept a simple home, wore simple clothing, and had simple hobbies. It was endearing and rather reminded her of Matthew; he had said the same himself when Mary had told him about Reginald Swire. "Are you quite sure you have the right man?" She turned to Lavinia. "I mean no offense but your father-"

"I know what you are about to say and I quite agree. Papa is a quiet man, minds to himself. I hardly think many in London know him, rather than talk about him."

"He is quiet, yes. Those are the best kinds of solicitors," Lady Eleanor stated with a smile. "You want a dramatic man to be your barrister; there is nothing quite like a grand show in the court when the evidence is revealed and the truth of the matter is shown to all. But when it comes to business and seeing your company make a profit you don't need such flair from the man handling your legalities. No no… a quiet man is who you want to be your solicitor."

Mama nodded at that. "Yes, I can see that. I suppose that is what makes Matthew such a good lawyer."

It was an olive branch, of course, as mama had never seen Matthew do anything when it came to his job. Truth be told Mary had never seen him in the scope of the law either, though she did hope when the War ended that would change. Still, it was a compliment and Mary would accept such praise for her husband. "Yes. He is passionate, of course, but he knows how to keep his emotions in check for the most part. And when it comes to business he understands how a soft word can do more than a loud declaration."

The waiter came to get their orders and the talk died down so they might select their meals. After that the conversation lapsed into the sort of light conversation that one partook in when they didn't want to truly talk about anything but also knew that silence would be far more oppressive. Speaking of the weather or admiring another's dress prevented one from feeling the crushing weight of what was not being said. It also did away with the risk of making such unsaid things become said.

'It is rather funny,' she thought as the waiter brought them their premeal drinks. 'So many who are below our station believe us rather dry and boring when they hear our conversations, having no idea the delicate dance we are all performing.' She sipped her wine, careful not to take in too much too soon; thanks to Allen's hatred of liquor Mary had begun to lose her tolerance for spirits while Matthew had completely reverted back to his pre-Downton days. They'd had a few glasses a month ago to celebrate Matthew's birthday and he'd awoken so sick Thomas had told him to stay home. 'Part of me wishes I could act like a middle class wife and talk frankly with mama but I refuse to give her a victory in seeing me behave in such an undignified way.'

"So Mary," Lady Eleanor said finally as they waited for their first courses, "how is your husband? Matthew, correct? I do apologize that we didn't send notice of well-wishes sooner but truthfully with the War the announcement of your vows got lost in the stream of news."

"Completely understandable," Mary said with a wave of her hand, dismissing the concern. "We kept it rather small, after all, and weren't expecting many well wishes. We did marry right as the war began." She wasn't convinced in the slightest that Lady Eleanor didn't know exactly what had happened that had led to her and Matthew having a quiet wedding in a small church in the middle of the day. Even if mama hadn't told her Mary knew that Lady Eleanor would have looked up everything about her the moment she knew they were having lunch. Such was the intrigue that always followed around people of their station. "And he is doing very well, thank you."

"Matthew works at the War Office," Mama stated with pride… perhaps a bit too much, considering papa's reaction to his choice, but still Mary was a touch pleased that her mother was attempting to see that Matthew was doing important work.

But then the memory of their parting that morning struck her and she couldn't help but feel a frown fall upon her lips. "At least he did."

"Oh?" Lady Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lavinia, bless her, spoke up. "Mr. Crawley was selected to manage the new convalescence hospital that has been installed in Downton. He left this morning."

"That was this morning?" Mama asked and Mary knew at once that she truly was shocked and that it wasn't feign surprise to cover for held knowledge. Mary had always been able to read her mother, for despite all she had done to try and adapt to the British way of life she was an American and they always wore their hearts on their sleeves, unable to truly hide what they were thinking from anyone. In breaking from the Motherland they had lost all ability to be subtle. "I knew your grandmother was pushing for Matthew and Sybil to get there soon but I thought there was more time." Her eyes widened in dawning horror. "Oh… oh please tell me I didn't drag you away from him!"

"Oh mama, please," Mary said in annoyance. "If I truly had to choose between you and Matthew I wouldn't be sitting here right now. He had to leave very early, well before a gentlemen should ever rise, in order for him and Molesley to make their train." She shook her head. "Even for him it was far too early. I've grown accustomed to him awakening me early but usually the sun is at least up."

"Many people do wake up before 10 am," Lavinia teased lightly.

"I am not many people," Mary countered, taking a sip of her wine. "Sybil might enjoy waking up before the sun rises but our ancestors did not claw their way into high society just for me to wake up at some ungodly hour." Lavinia flashed her a bemused look and Mary rolled her eyes. "How is Lillian managing?" Mary asked, keep her tone casual but with just a slight bite... enough to let her mother know she wanted to drop the subject of Downton and papa before they could even truly begin to discuss it.

"Fair enough," Mama stated as the waiter brought over their salads, answering both on Lillian and Mary's desire to avoid all talk of their old home. Dipping the spoon into the dressing bowl that had been placed at the center of the table she lightly drizzled her greens with the creamy dressing before allowing Lavinia a chance to garnish her salad. "It is a change for her, of course, but I think her youth is a blessing in that case... and a curse, now that I think about it."

"What do you mean?"

"She understands that things have changed and she doesn't understand why. She looks for her nanny or Carson or the maids and does not see them and it causes her some stress."

"Not that you could tell," Lady Eleanor said with a slight smile. "I have never met such a stoic child as your sister, Mary."

She had noticed that herself and made a similar conclusion. Where she had been a matter-of-fact child, older than her years, while Edith had been a bit of a crybaby and Sybil at once both clingy and stubbornly independent, Lillian was utterly to the point in all things. A few weeks ago she had agreed to watch her, wanting to try and be there for her baby sister as it wasn't her fault that she had been drawn into this mess, even though it had been her conception that had aided in the rift between Papa and Matthew. She had been a touched worried how she'd get on with her as she had never been one to handle children well, not after she had blossomed into womanhood. She'd seen children as noisy, messy, sticky things that made far too much noise and clatter. In her youth, before she had come to love Matthew and longed to create a small life with him that would represent their love, she had idly wished she had been the second born so she could be like Aunt Rosamund and merely marry well without the burden of needing to create an heir. So having Lillian all to herself had been worrisome.

"Yes, I agree," Mary said with her own smile. "When it was just the two of us a little while back I was worried how I would manage her. But she merely looked at me and half the time gave the orders." She chuckled. "I think I adopted one of those squeaky voices everyone seems to use when talking to babies because when I asked her if she was ready for lunch she looked at me with the most put upon face before sighing and telling me, "Yes. Lunch. Must eat." Then she rose up and toddled to the dining room... yet I could feel her judging me for talking down to her."

Mama tittered at that. "Yes, that is your sister."

"But you said it does cause her stress?" Lavinia asked.

"It does but it is a child's stress, which is why I say it is a blessing and a curse. She doesn't understand why things have changed but she is far more resilient because of that lack of understanding. We are in a new place with new toys save for her doll and that is rather odd for her but she is able to focus on what she knows and is familiar with and that is good enough for her." Mama's smile fell a bit. "She doesn't understand how deeply our lives have changed and how shifting the sands truly are."

"I think we all understand that feeling," Mary said.

"Because of the war," Lady Eleanor stated.

Mary took another bite of her salad to keep from answering. 'No, not the war, Mama. The fact that like Lillian I truly didn't have a choice in my exile.'

Casual light conversation returned as the finished their appetizers. Talk of how cold the winter would be, how long it might last, and if they could hope for an actual spring or if they would suffer through some wet false ones before finally the calendar decided to march right into summer. There was talk of stories they had read in the papers and Mama gushed about Edith's work.

"She is just so witty, isn't she?" she said with delighted surprise. "I read some of her pieces and find myself laughing only for her points to become stuck in my mind for the rest of the day. I will be going about my errands hours later only to return to some idea she postulated and find myself wondering why no one else has thought of it before!"

Mary shook her head at that as the waiter removed their finished salads and took away the wine glasses so new ones might be poured. "I always found her attempting too hard at parties and gatherings and I still believe she does that... but the paper shows she can be quite engaging when she can allow a typewriter to speak for her."

"I enjoy the back and forth between Tom and Edgar," Lavinia said.

"Tom and Edgar?" Lady Eleanor asked.

"Edith's writing partners," Mary supplied. "They started with each of them doing a column and Edith doing a third final piece that usually took the best points of each while dismantling what she felt was their errors. A middleman, if you would."

"Middlewoman," mama corrected.

"But now they have tried something new that I rather enjoy. They select a topic and write out their thoughts in small paragraphs, each taking their turn, sometimes two of them going on for a while before the third reenters." Lavina took a sip of wine. "It feels like I am reading an actual conversations even when I know that it took a great amount of work for them to get the entire piece to flow properly and naturally." Lavina suddenly paused before rising from her seat. "I think I am going to take a moment before lunch arrives. I'll be right back."

"Sweet girl," Mama stated as Lavinia hurried off to the lavatory. "How did you two meet again?"

Mary smiled and told the story of her and Cat's lunch and how they'd accidently taken Lavinia's reservation thanks to the snooty maître de, which had led to Mary coming to her friend's rescue, inviting her to dine with them and the relationship that had blossomed.

"Is she attached to anyone?" Mama asked once Mary finished the story, the waiter having arrived with their food, the three of them casually beginning their meals. Mary had ordered a pasta dish, which was lighter on chicken than she'd have preferred but she understood with the war such luxuries, even a place such as this, were a rarity and that one should be grateful for whatever they could get.

"I suppose that she is. At the very least she wishes to be." Mary swirled a piece of pasta in a trail of sauce. "She has an old childhood friend who is currently on the Continent that she writes to. I don't know if he realizes she wishes to be with him but she does."

"That seems to be the tale with most men," Lady Eleanor said with a titter of laughter. "Henry certainly didn't realize that I had my eye on him for at least two years before he finally decided that I was the woman for him."

"Robert desired me but I don't know when he realized that he loved me. I know that I loved him before he loved me…" she smiled, the memories clearly bittersweet. "But I know by the time that you were one, Mary, that he had realized it."

"And when did you realize you loved him?" Mary found herself asking. It was odd, to ask such a bold question, but she found herself curious all the same. She knew that her parents hadn't had a storybook romance, where the dashing prince swept the princess of her feet. Her father had gone to America not out of a lack of willing brides in England but because none of them brought to the marriage the one thing mama did: wealth. It was something that wasn't polite to discuss and only the most shrill and uncultured of their lot ever brought it up, and even then they only did so in whispers, but it was true. Mary's grandfather had nearly destroyed Downton and it had only been material grandfather's wealth that had saved it.

'Not at all like Matthew and I,' she thought to herself before he mother spoke.

"It was a few months into our marriage and he mentioned in passing that he'd asked Billy Skelton if they might avoid the cherry chicken that they'd served at the last dinner we attended. Robert didn't mind it but I barely managed to choke it down… he remembered that I didn't like it." She gave a helpless shrug. "I suppose it might seem silly-"

"Not at all, mama, not at all," Mary was quick to say. "And it is a far more cheerful story to tell than mine." Lady Eleanor raised an eyebrow at that and Mary glanced at her mother, who gave a brief shake of her head; she hadn't shared the tale of Pamuk and how Matthew had rescued her from him and his foul desires. It still made her shutter sometimes, to know that he had tried to have his way with her, that he'd brought drugs with him and clearly intended that they might enjoy them together, that he could be so brutish and violent- "A conversation for later, perhaps," Mary said, not dismissing the idea of discussing it outright. Her mother shot her a surprised look and Mary realized she was rather surprised herself that she was willing to entertain letting another in on the secret. But just as quick she was hit with the reason why. "He will never have power over me, mama. If I am afraid of revealing what he did… I will have allowed him to win even in death. No. Let the world know the monster he was… and the noble hero my husband is."

Mama nodded at that. "Good." She began to cut into her meal, a piece of pork with green beans on the side, only to pause. "Lavinia has been gone rather long, hasn't she? I hope she's alright."

"I'll go check," Mary said, rising up and placing her napkin on the table. "Knowing Lavinia she probably thought she was doing the two of us a favor; she most likely assumed that you'd follow after her, Lady Eleanor, so that Mama and I could talk in private. She's got it in her head that we are going to settle things between us right here in public."

Mama chuckled at that. "I can see that. Her thinking that, not us settling things. I… know it will take time-"

"Mama, please," Mary said with a scoff. "You are proving Lavinia correct." She turned and hurried off, weaving her way through the tables towards where the lavatory was. 'Poor darling is probably standing awkwardly in the hall, glancing at us everyone once and while wondering when Lady Eleanor will leave, letting her meal get cold.' She shook her head in amusement; sometimes her friend could be so naïve. Lavinia saw the best in people, trusted them to do what was right, and had always the hope that people could settle their differences. That was part of the reason why Mary found herself drawn to her… much like Matthew Lavinia was a light to her darkness, a warmth to her frost. 'They would have made a sickeningly sweet couple,' she thought. 'Had he met her before me I could see them being much like I imagine Isobel was with Matthew's father. Helping the world, assisting all that begged for a hand…'

Mary stopped quickly, pulling herself back from the hall so that only her head was peeking out. She'd found Lavinia waiting in the hallway to the lavatory but she wasn't waiting for her and mama. Instead she was talking to a stranger… no, that wasn't right. She was shifting nervously as she was lectured by a stranger.

She'd teased Lavinia several times that with her delicate frame she was very much like how she'd imagined a pixie to be. She was a sprite full of joy and love for the world around her. But if Lavinia was a pixie then the man before her was a towering goblin. He loomed over her, his light hair slicked back and his stony face perhaps giving him the good looks of an aged knight but his intense eyes and low rumbling voice made him the spirit of a torture dungeon master. He was dressed in a fine dark suit, which looked to be cut in the most modern of styles, and had a coat tucked under his arm and a hat in his hands.

Leaning close to the wall Mary listened carefully as the stranger spoke to her dear friend, his voice like a stone pastel against a rough mortar.

"-not why I am here. What matters is that we have encountered one another once again."

"You followed me," Lavinia said, trying to put a bit of steel in her voice but it only ended up betraying her nervousness.

"It will not make you feel better if I admit it, so why bother pressing me on this matter?"

"Because our deal is done. I gave you what you wanted and the debt is repaid."

"That deal is done," the stranger said sternly. "But another can always be made."

"You promised that you would ask nothing of me again, Mr. Carlisle-"

"Richard, please my dear," he said, his tone conveying an inviting tone. But Mary did not buy his honeyed words for a moment. "We are old friends, aren't we?"

"We aren't friends," Lavinia said and Mary silently cheered her on. She didn't know who the man was but Mary would side with Lavinia every single time, even if the man turned out to be the brother of King George V. "We had an agreement. I gave you what you wanted and the debt was forgiven. You promised that you wouldn't ask anything of me ever again."

"I promised," Carlisle said through tight lips, "that I would not ask you to take anything from your uncle again. And I am not. I want something else from you, something that only now you can provide, now that I know who you associate with."

Lavinia was silent for several long moments. "Mary?"

"Lady Mary Crawley," he said…

Mary's eyes widened. What the devil could he want with her? What nefarious, wicked, deceitful plot did he have in mind for her that would cause him to target her friend? What did that monster want with her-

"…is of no concern to me," he finished. "It is her sister, Lady Edith who matters.

"…what?" Mary whispered only to quickly cover her mouth.

"I… don't understand."

"There is someone I have my eye on. A reporter who currently works for Lady Edith. Except he has been sent to her family home in the company of her youngest sister and brother-in-law. I want to know why. Is it merely because Lady Sybil and this reporter, Tom Branson, are courting? Or is there something else? Did he ask to go or did she decide it. You will make friends with Lady Edith and find out." He paused, adjusting his suit coat. "In return I will not reveal that you are the one that gave me your uncle's papers."

"You swore-"

"I did. But things have changed. You gave me leverage, Miss Swire, and you should know I am not the sort of man to give up such power easily." He bowed his head slowly, mockingly. "I will expect to hear from you soon." With that he walked away from her, Mary spinning around and making a show of admiring a painting. But he didn't even notice her, breezing past her and out the door.

Lavinia took several moments to gather herself, Mary not blaming her in the slightest, before she walked back towards the dining room only for Mary to catch her arm. It was much like she had done when they first met and with a soft smile she whispered through her teeth, "I heard everything. We'll finish our meal then return to the Lothrop residence. We'll bring mama and Lady Eleanor with us. You are being watched so we must not let them know anything is a miss. Now smile and try and finish the rest of your meal."

~A~O~O~O~F~

Catherine looked about the room and the assortment of players that had been assembled for this performance. Herself, the exiled eldest daughters as well as the wife of Lord Grantham, Lady Eleanor, Catherine's daughter Jenny (having recently returned from her extended stay in the country at Cat's request, so that Mary might have someone else to lean upon with Matthew's departure), and of course the subject of their gathering, Lavinia Swire. The poor girl looked to be utterly terrified despite Mary doing all she could to assure her that everything would be all right. Lady Eleanor and Cora were seated together in silence, the two of them clearly realizing that at any moment they could be cast out and thus merely thankful they had been invited. Edith had been the one they had waited for, as when Mary had told Cat that Lavinia's extortionist had mentioned her by name Catherine had said firmly she must attend. Jenny had the least reason to be there but her daughter had argued that it would be best for her to come, for she would offer the true outsider's view. 'And the rage we might need.' Jenny was her father's daughter and had been born with Allen's temper; she'd been a happy baby but when she'd become annoyed she had become a red-faced demon screeching her displeasure. The only other people Catherine might have considered bringing into the meeting were Sybil, Isobel, and Mary's grandmother but the former was at Downton and couldn't be easily recalled while the latter was not on Catherine's good side after her power play using Matthew. As for Isobel there was simply no way to extract her from the hospital without raising interest among those they wished to keep in the dark about the meeting.

Catherine Lothrop has her own network of watches, as any smart woman that lived in London would have, and all had sent messages that they were being watched.

"We must have it all," Mary told Lavinia as the room quieted down. "We must hear the whole story if we are to help you."

"I fear you will hate me," Lavinia stated in utter misery.

"Then I have not been a very good friend if you believe that," Mary stated firmly. "Now come on, lamb, tell us who that man was and what power he holds over you."

Lavinia nodded her head after a moment, sucking in a breath before she spoke. "I have to begin first with my family, for that is where the story begins. My mother died when I was very young. She has no one left on her side of the family so it has only been my father's side I have ever known, as few Swires as there are. My uncle is Jonathan Swire, liberal minister. You may have heard of him?"

"I think most of us have," Catherine stated, "and we'll ask if we need more information. Go on."

"He worked within the government of Herbert Henry Asquith, dealing with matters that involved the likes of Sir Rufus Isaacs-"

"Oh no," Jenny said, Cat secretly proud that her daughter had clued in what was about to come, same as her.

"Sir Rufus?" Lady Eleanor asked. "The same one involved with the-"

"Marconi Scandal?" Lavinia said. "The same." She looked down at her folded hands. "The Marconi Scandal was broken by The White Haven Herald, which is owned by Richard Carlisle." Here it was Edith's turn to suck in a breath and when Cat glanced her way she saw the woman had gone pale only to switch to red rage. "He was able to do so with my help."

"You took the papers he needed, didn't you?" Mary asked. "That is what he was threatening you with; he would reveal your role in the scandal."

Lavinia nodded. "Uncle Jonathan is not a well man. It… it has been hidden but he is dying. He should have died 2 years ago, according to his doctors, and it is only willpower at this point that has kept him around. But he is dying and the scandal of his own niece being the instrument of his downfall would end him."

Edith scoffed at that. "I'm sorry but I don't feel pity for him. The man was part of that mad scheme and was lucky to avoid being tarnished by it himself."

"You can't know that," Cora said.

"I do," Edith said. "Michael has his own sources and he knows of things that happened that the public does not. But after that court case against Cecil went against him he decided not to publish… Jonathan Swire was involved but in a minor way and he had already decided to retire so what was the use of revealing the information?"

"To see justice done?" Jenny asked and Catherine shook her head; now was not the time for that, even if she did agree with her daughter's point. She loved her daughter dearly but sometimes the girl didn't know when to keep her mouth closed and hold her opinions to herself.

"But why did you do it?" Cora asked. Mary looked to her mother but Lady Grantham held up a hand. "She didn't do it for justice or because it was right. If she had she would admit it now to us at the very least. She holds her tongue because of her uncle but among us she would admit why she did it if it were a reason she was proud of." Cora looked to Lavinia who was squirming in her seat. "If Sybil had been the one to do this she would openly admit to me she did it because it was the right thing to do. But you aren't... which tells me that you do not like that you did it at all and thus the reason is a selfish one."

"Mama!" Mary exclaimed.

"No, Mary, let me finish. Lavinia, I do not know much about you but I like to think I can tell when someone is a cad and someone is a saint. You are no cad. So the reasons might be seen as selfish... but were done for noble reasons. Am I right?"

Lavinia blinked back tears and Mary wrapped her arm around her friend. "My father... he was in debt to Carlisle. A sum that would break us. Ruin us. He said he would forgive the debt if I got him the papers. He said that they were worth more than what my father owed him." She looked down at her hands. "I did it for him..."

"Poor dear," Catherine said with a sigh. "Such a shame when children must bear the burden of their parents' mistakes."

"Especially when there are no mistakes at all," Lady Eleanor said in disgust, causing all the gathered women to start.

"Eleanor, what-" Cora began.

"Lavinia," Lady Eleanor said, "you have been had. Tricked. Conned. I'm sorry to be so blunt but it is true."

"No," the poor woman said. "Father-"

"Has hid from you his true wealth," Lady Eleanor said firmly. "I know that. If you knew the size of his estate you would know that there is no debt he could possibly owe to Richard Carlisle that he couldn't pay. Any amount that would ruin him would ruin Carlisle as well. He does not have the coin to forget such an amount, not the kind that would bring down Reginald Swire."

Mary spoke up. "Lady Eleanor, I'm afraid we're all in the dark." She rubbed Lavinia's back, the poor girl staring at the older woman with disbelieve tinged with dread.

"I told you at lunch that Reginald Swire worked for nearly every major business in London. It is well known to all that he is paid obscene fees for his work... because he is that good and people will pay for the privilege of him protecting their enterprises." He paused, glancing first at Cora and then Cat. "He is also the grandson of Elizabeth Doorshire."

Cat's eyes went wide with that declaration and even the younger girls, save for Lavinia and Jenny, started at that. Cora whispered, "As in Marcus Doorshire's daughter? The Baron of Capshaw?"

"The very same," Lady eleanor stated. "Reginald nor his father could not inherit the titles, as it could only go through the male line and Marcus' son Franklin died along with his father and there were no more males of the parental line. So the title is gone. But the wealth of Capshaw did go to her and in turn to Reginald's father... and then himself."

"How much wealth is that?" Jenny asked.

Lady Eleanor shot Cora a cutting look. "Enough to make your dowery look like a donation in a bell-ringer's kettle."

"Damn," Cora said, reverting to her American roots.

"No," Lavinia said, showing her head back and forth rapidly. "No, that can't be. Papa... he can't have that much."

Mary though looked to her friend. "He bought you a car, did he not?" Lavinia nodded. "And you have never needed to work and he has not pushed you to marry young... he would only be able to do all that if he knew there was wealth that could pass to you, to keep you secure and happy and free to do as you wished." Each word was a blow that knocked Lavinia back, causing her to retreat deeper into the couch she was sitting upon.

"He told you about the debt?" Jenny asked. Lavinia shook her head. "How did you learn of it?" She held up her hand. "He told you, didn't he? Carlisle. He came on strong and used vague enough words to make you believe that was the truth. He wagered your father had never told you the truth of his holdings."

"The bastard," Edith snapped. "He most likely got a good laugh out of that."

"The question is what do we do now?" Mary asked. "Carlisle is going after one of your reporters, Edith-"

Edith growled. "Tom. He has tried to turn him into a spy."

Mary hissed at that, eyes flashing with rage. "I assume you have already countered his actions?" she snapped out.

"I have," Edith said, her tone icy. "But Carlisle began to press him harder and it was decided that he needed to get away from him."

"Press how?" Mary asked.

"He threatened Sybil."

Cora's eyes flashed with rage before she rose. "I'm calling my mother. Now."

"Mama?" Mary asked even as she bubbled with fury. She wondered if Allen would loan her some weapons… or a tank.

"What do you think she will do when I tell her this upjumped paperman threatened her granddaughter? She'll bring the hounds of hell to bear."

Edith though spoke up. "Its already taken care of, Mama. That's why Michael and I sent Tom to Downton. Papa will not allow Carlisle near the Abbey, Carson will never allow spies, and we planned, if need be, to inform Allen and Matthew so they might get the military involved."

"Well, that is good," Lady Eleanor stated. "Save that now he has decided to not let up on the pressure but instead direct it towards Lavinia."

"The question is how do we respond?" Cat asked.

"Break him."

Everyone turned to stare at Lavinia. Where moments before there had been a trembling girl frightened at how easily she had been played there now sat a warrior queen ready to make her enemies pay. She had taken her mortification and rather than let it build a wall around her selfworth she had instead taken the humiliation and made it kindling, stoking the flames of revenge. She sat up taller and looked at each of the women gathered in turn, seizing control of the meeting and daring them to try and take it back.

"I am not the only one he has done such things to," Lavinia said firmly. "We can't merely free me from his grasp... Carlisle has prove than when one escapes his grasp he snatches up another. If we are to ensure that no other woman falls under his spell we must destroy him, completely and utterly. And not just all he holds dear... we must break his spirit, his dreams, and his very sanity. That is the debt he now owes me and I intend to be paid in full!"

"...hear hear!" Mary gasped clapping her hands.

Cora smirked as the other women in the room nodded their heads in agreement, the pact to bring down the House of Carlisle silently agreed upon by all. "I wonder, if even now... Carlisle feels the cold shudder runnign down his spine?"

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: I've brought it up when responded to reviews but the biggest plot hole in Downton is how Reggie Swire went from owing money to Carlisle (a sum that would ruin him) to having enough money to will to Matthew that Downton could be spared. Carlisle isn't that rich. Thus we have my answer: Carlisle lied. There was never a debt. He used Lavinia.

And now he has all the women of this story coming for his heart.

…and suddenly I am imagining Mary and the rest of the ladies dressed as witches stirring a cauldron and cackling.

No plot bunny but go to my Author's Page to see my new Downton anthology that will collect the first chapters of Downton Plot Bunnies!