"What did you think of her?" Matthew asked, giving Mary's hand a squeeze as the two of them walked along the street. It was a cloudy day; not one that threatened rain but rather one where the great white clouds blotted out the sun and made the world feel like it was blanketed in cotton. People moved about on their busy at a leisurely pace, even those that had very important things to get to seemingly unable to find the energy to rush about. It was a pace Matthew and Mary didn't mind at all, for they had much of the day to do as they pleased.

They'd just gotten done shopping for all the ingredients needed to make the cake for the party they were having for Matthew's birthday. The General and Catherine were having a small affair at their home; nothing gigantic like Matthew might have expected had the war never come and he'd never fallen out of Robert's good graces. He knew, had things been different, his father-in-law would have seen his heir's birthday as some grand event that called upon a grand party. Something where Matthew's own desires didn't matter if they conflicted with showcasing the wealth and standing of Downton and those that called it home. People he had never met would have come to eat a meal that, while wonderful, wasn't something he would have chosen, and then he would have had to make small talk wearing clothing he disliked for hours on end.

The party that the Lothrops were going to put on would have caused the Robert of old to pass out in shock, unable to handle such a casual thing. They'd asked Matthew what he wished for and he'd been quite clear: no tails or stiff collared shirts, no dark and moody rooms filled with people he didn't know, and no food that cost more than he made in a month. The General had blinked at that before asking if Matthew was quite certain he wasn't secretly his son and then promising to give him exactly that.

The party would be a private one, held at the Lothrop house. Just Matthew, Mary, Edith and Michael, his mother, Cora and Lillian (though the littlest Crawley would only be around for the beginning before being allowed to sleep in a bedroom), his mother, and the Lothrops themselves. Mary had informed him that she'd sat down with Cora and made clear that she shouldn't come dressed like she was attending a Season and Cora had finally decided to consider Matthew's party much like Christmas lunch: a casual affair amongst family where one could breathe without fearing what society might think. The Lothrops had promised a simple yet filling meal and afterwards a few party games. Not The Game as was played at Christmas but games all the same that would result in much ribbing and teasing from all involved.

He'd already had a dinner with Sybil, Tom, Anna, Bates, the Dowager, and Robert a week earlier at Downton, knowing that all of them couldn't (or shouldn't in the case of Robert) make the trek back to London. That had been rather nice as well, much to Matthew's surprise. He'd feared that Robert would indeed make some grand show of it, trying to shower him with gifts and fancy food and the like but in the end the party had been respectful and tasteful. Fancier than he was sure the one in a few hours would be but no more than a standard dinner at Downton. Sybil had even managed to dine with her father without any curt words; in fact she'd been rather pleasant with him and Matthew had smiled and silently cheered as that fence was mended.

'Perhaps because the baby was there,' he thought to himself. Anna and John had brought Noah with them, Robert waving off their attempts to place him in a room to sleep as they planned to do tonight with Lillian.

"Let him stay here," he'd told them. "After what you went through… well, let's blame me and say I want him close by if we must."

The Dowager had scoffed at the idea of infants being in the dining room but later admitted that if Mary and her sisters had been as quiet as Noah was she'd "have told Robert not to waste money on nannies and simply set them up in a corner to slumber away." Noah had slept through the entire affair and even Carson, frowning at the sight of the boy when he'd first arrived, and been caught one time quietly tucking him in while the rest of them had talked.

It had been a nice dinner… and rather amusing, now that he looked back at it. Anna and John had been completely flustered dining with 'his Lordship' and Robertt had been completely oblivious to their concern… or not. There were a few moments where Matthew swore the man saw their concern and worry and fretting but ignored it.

'Robert is smarter than he lets the world think.'

That had been a week ago but on his actual birthday he'd rode in to London so he might spend some time with Mary. Even though it had only been two weeks since they'd last seen each other it felt like decades and Matthew was rather happy to be able to see her once more. Sybil had told him quite firmly that he was to take a least a week off and that she and Clarkson could manage things on their own. Matthew wasn't completely convinced that Clarkson agreed with that statement but Sybil had pretty much ridden over him like he was a flower on a battlefield.

He sighed happily and squeezed Mary's hand, savoring her touch. Writing letters and the occasional call on the phone could not compare to feeling her skin pressed against his and actually see her light up as they spoke. Her smile was honestly the best gift she could give him. It would be painful to return to Downton at week's end but he did all he could not to think about that. To focus on the here and now.

Which was very odd considering he and Mary were talking about the future.

"She is a very good fit," Mary finally said. Not in the kind of way that made one think the pause was because they were trying to spare the other's feelings. Rather that she wanted to truly think over the question.

"Because if you aren't happy you can find someone else," Matthew told her quickly.

"Do you want me to find someone different?"

"Not at all!" Matthew hurriedly said. "I think she would be a grand fit as well. It's just… I know how important it is finding someone you can trust. She would be with you at your most tender of moments. I just want you to select someone you want, not someone you think the rest of us want you to select." He let out a breath, knowing he was doing a horrible job explaining. "I won't be offended and I know Anna won't be offended-"

"I know neither of you will be offended but there is no need to find someone else. Anna recommended her and you vouched for her character as well as her skill. I had Edith look into her-" Matthew raised an eyebrow at that and Mary scoffed. "Edith works for a paper and her job is digging into people's pasts and discovering what secrets they might be having. I'd be a fool not to take advantage of that."

"I'm merely surprised you went to Edith for help."

"She's finally proven herself useful. Would be a waste not to take advantage of that," Mary replied with a sniff.

Matthew chuckled. "I almost believe you still think like that."

Rather than address that comment Mary continued on. "And I rather enjoyed the interview I had with her and think she will be a good fit."

"And it doesn't bother you what she did in the past?"

"We have all done things we've regretted, Matthew," she told him firmly. "What is important is who we are now. I wouldn't want someone judging me on all the mistakes I made and it isn't fair to Baxter if I do the same to her. In fact I'd argue she's done far more to make up for her mistakes than I ever did." She chuckled. "I certainly never prevented a kidnapping from happening!"

"Well, that you've admitted to," Matthew teased.

Mary preened a bit at that. "You've caught me out, Mr. Crawley. I might pretend to be a simple middle class wife but in reality I am a detective and hero who goes about thwarting crimes with my plucky sidekick Anna. We battle all sorts of menaces and monsters before hurrying back home where our husbands are none the wiser."

"With you I could believe that to be a fact!" Matthew said with a laugh. "Who knows what secret and exciting exploits you're getting into while I'm off at Downton?"

"Oh, just toppling the powerful and the elite," Mary said with a casual rolling of her hand.

"My dear, you are the powerful and the elite."

She let out a playful gasp. "I am no such thing! I am your basic middle class housewife."

"…mmhmm," Matthew said with a smirk.

"I am! I look after the house-"

"The General's house that has servants."

"-I don't attend fancy balls-"

"Because you threatened to castrate anyone who invited you… even if they were women which was rather odd."

Mary ignored the vulgar comment her husband had made mostly because it was true. "I bake."

"Very well, you are right on that mark."

Mary smiled and they continued to make their way back home. "And the difference is those powerful and elite have gotten on my bad side and thus must pay."

"I really don't want to know what you're scheming about, do I?"

"Not in the slightest."

They continued on in silence for several minutes, enjoying each other's company and the sight of London. Even though Mary now considered the city her home it had felt drab and dreary without Matthew there; his very appearance now made the cloudy sky feel like it was the most glorious and beautiful of spring days.

"So you'll take on Baxter?" Matthew finally said.

"Yes, I think I will. Even without the ringing endorsements and what she did for Anna and John and especially little Noah I would have considered hiring her. Now I have no choice not to. If she is that dedicated to people she never met she will be a most loyal companion."

After what had happened with Vera and the failed baby kidnapping Matthew had met with the Phyllis Baxter to thank her for what she had done for not just John and Ana but all of them. In talking with her he had found a woman who was soft spoken but strong of will, understanding when it was a servant's time to follow orders and when they should speak up and let their lady know they were making a mistake. When she'd mentioned that even with a clean record she didn't know what she would do for a living, as it would be hard to explain the large gap in her references, Matthew had quickly suggested she meet with Mary to potentially become her Lady's Maid.

"We can afford it though, yes?" Mary asked finally. "I don't need a Lady's Maid if it will ruin what we have saved."

"We can more than afford to bring her on," Matthew assured her. "My promotion to running the hospital has increased my salary quite a bit, you know." He couldn't help but wonder how much of that was the Dowager's doing. He could see her hand in getting himself and Sybil a large increase in pay from the army, thinking that they needed to have far more wealth than they'd know what to do with.

"I know," Mary said. "But still…"

"And there is the fact that one day we will inherit Downton-"

Mary though shook her head at that. "I don't wish to even think about that day, let alone speak of it."

Matthew wisely decided not to yank on that thread. Mary was still dealing with her issues with her father and the mere thought of them going along with his plans, even if he had changed as far as Matthew was concerned and had become a better and more open person, was abhorrent to her. He knew that at some point he'd need to sit her down and broach the topic, to get her to consider at least talking to her father… but today was his birthday and he honestly didn't want to ruin it with a massive fight. So instead he merely squeezed her hand and smiled and after a moment she returned the gesture.

"My mother kept on a maid and Baxter stated that she would be willing to take on such duties in our home when the time comes."

"That would be a step down for her," Mary pointed out.

"I think a good family that she loves to work for is worth more than status with a family she loathes and wishes to flee," Matthew pointed out. "Molesley did it when we were in the village and will do so again when we leave the General's home and set up our own place."

"I suppose you are right," Mary said.

"It hurt you so to admit that," Matthew teased.

"It truly did. Consider it my present to you, Mr. Crawley."

"Thank you, Mrs. Crawley," he said with a smirk and the continued on their way back to the General's home.

But they were both rather surprised when they arrived to find that the Lothrops were entertaining guests. Edith and Michael weren't much of a surprise, even if they were far too early for the party to be even considered for a moment to be 'fashionable'. But it was the soldier who was sitting on the couch who really got their attention. He was missing much of his right leg, the limb terminating just at the knee, and there were burn scars on his face and on the back of his hands as well. He looked up when Mary and Matthew arrived back only to look back down at the tea cup he was holding and the couple frowned even as the General and Michael rose to great them.

"Do you need us to make ourselves scarce?" Mary asked, nodding towards the soldier.

"No. In fact we have been waiting for you," Allen told her softly.

"Whatever for?" Matthew asked.

Michael shifted. "I hate that we must do this on your birthday but the tale…" He stopped, taking a breath. "Let us start at the beginning." He glanced at the General.

"For three weeks I have known about an… issue… within the forces. One that some men within the Army have been trying to cover up."

"Crickey," Mary murmured. "This sounds rather serious."

"Very serious if the rumors are true," Allen said. "Normally I would not have been informed of such things but my connection to it all meant that I was sought out and informed." He glowered suddenly, jaw working. "Bloody fools."

"General?"

"The-" he stopped and Matthew got the sense he was fighting to keep himself from cursing in front of Mary, "the men that came to see me thought they were doing me a favor by keeping this information hidden away. Brushing it aside. But you know me, Matthew: my life has been dedicated to the care of soldiers. To making sure that even as they march through Hell they are given the best the army can provide. If they have been hurt, maimed… killed… because of the actions of another-" His jaw worked, "-the foolishness and ineptitude of another… then I would want it revealed. Even if it were my own child."

"General."

Michael quickly stepped in. "It isn't the General's sons, Matthew."

"Right," Allen said, grimacing. "Poor choice of words. I just wanted to stress the situation I suddenly found myself in." He dropped his already quiet voice to even softer whisper. "It concerns the wasteful tossing away of life. Of someone more concerned with their own prestige than the soldiers they were honor bound to protect. And the Army is trying to cover it up."

"No," Mary said with a little gasp after just WHAT the General had been saying processed. "You're sure?"

"Those that visited me, I won't say who, told me that. Not hinted… told. They were doing what they could to keep the talk from leaking out because they knew that it would not just hurt the Army but…"

"This person," Matthew said when the General trailed off, "they're from high society, aren't they?"

"Yes," Allen growled.

"Who?"

Even with him staying quiet the brief flash of complete and utter RAGE that appeared on Allen's face might as well have been a bomb going off right under Matthew's feet. Not 'The General'. This was Allen Lothrop's anger that was bursting forth. He clenched his fists and his jaw tightened as he let out a blast of air before hissing out with such venom it nearly knocked Matthew over the two words:

"Larry. Gray."

Mary went stiff as a board. Michael, who clearly must have known, shook his head. Matthew himself felt the world spin for a moment before everything snapped back into place. He didn't argue the point. Didn't think the General must be mistaken. No no… he knew at once he was right. It was rather like when the answer to a difficult problem suddenly made itself known and all of the world went from twisted and rocking to making complete sense.

'Of course it was him,' Matthew thought to himself. 'Who else could it have been? Who else would believe himself to be so mighty and so important yet also be so desperate to coat himself in more glory?' But just as quickly another thought struck him. 'He took my position. My place in the army. My men. Everything that happened… it's my fault for not being there.'

But before he could feel too much guilt a little voice that sounded just like Sybil's sweet angelic voice spoke up quietly in his head.

'Jeeyus, Matthew, ya daft prick! Get your head out of ya arse ya godshite! Ain't your fault that flickin' piece of gutter trash did this!'

Matthew reached up, rubbing his chin and covering his mouth to hide the brief smile that flashed upon his lips before looking at the General again, sobering up rather quickly.

"I can see why you were contacted."

"Indeed," Allen muttered. "Though they also miscalculated. They believed that I being the Lord Oakwood in all but official title meant that I would care about the aristocracy-"

"And these men… know you?" Mary asked and that learned a small touch of levity to the rather serious situation.

"Yes. And they believed that I wish to protect Richard. They want to spare him the dishonor. But… it does him and the family no good if a man like Larry Gray takes control of his family and his estate clean of his sins."

Mary shook her head. "If you reveal this though it will harm them for generations. The stain of it will sit upon their Coat of Arms for a century. Those in our circles have long memories and sharp tongues."

"If I do not what depths will he sink too once he has even more power?" Allen shot back. "A soldier returned from war, once more feeling he can do whatever he wishes because he never has faced punishment, and given so much sympathy because of being trapped in a wheelchair… oh, I fear for that house and all that dwell within if Larry is allowed to continue on." He shook his head. "And in the end it doesn't matter what I think of Richard or his family. There are other families who have lost their children, their fathers, their brothers, their uncles, their friends… because of him. I owe it to them to see this made right."

"I suppose there is a reason you haven't taken action yet then?" Mary asked.

"Not with how I found out. My position… well, even with the connections I have I would not be able to force punishment to come to Larry. And if I were to speak out harm could come to others."

"Others?" Mary asked.

"My sons… and Matthew."

"Matthew?"

"It is known that I care for him. That I have taken him under my wing, as it were. Should I step out of line there are those that would find ways to harm him. Punish him to send a message back to me so that remembered that my loyalty is to the War Office… even if it goes against the soldiers."

"What could they do though?" Mary asked.

Matthew knew though. "They always need men to lead. It wouldn't be that out of the ordinary for them to say my actions at Downton had proven that I was ready to command… in the field."

"In Europe," Mary whispered with growing horror.

Allen nodded. "And so you see the rub. I want to act on this information but I simply can't. Not without risking the lives of Matthew or my children." He paused. "But… it is unwise to back a fox into a corner. They are cunning things."

"And so that is where you come into this story," Matthew said to Michael.

"The General told me all of this during dinner two weeks back. Since then I have been talking to soldiers that served under Larry, getting their stories. A report in the Sketch about the abuses and trauma they needlessly suffered at his hands would turn public opinion and force the Army into action. That is the way of things."

"Something that can rather annoying," Allen grunted, "but I am willing to use to my advantage when I can."

"And should I hear rumors and decide to investigate and provide someone else with the information needed to arrest him themselves…" Michael trailed off. "The man in there served in Larry's squadron. We brought him here to tell his story."

"I don't understand though why you waited for us to arrive," Mary said.

"Hopefully for nothing," Michael said. "But I have a feeling you will be needed."

Returning to the sitting room Matthew and Mary brought two hardback chairs close to one another and took a seat, accepting the tea that was offered to them and looking to the soldier, a man by the name of Harold, and waiting for him to speak.

"The thing that always got to me were the excuses," the soldier said once the introduction had been made, his voice soft yet also firm. No quiver or waiver or hint of fear. Just a steady sound like a drum beat. "I had served under Captain Brighton with the 3rd before being transferred to Captain Gray's squadron, unlike a lot of the other men that he commanded. They were all fresh faced and green and weren't used to the military structure so how he acted, well, they assumed was the norm. And at first I thought it was the same as well. Captain Gray might have been a bit opinionated and we'd mock him for thinking so highly of himself but there were plenty of the commanders that were like that. You gave them a taste of power and they forgot what it was like to be a grunt in the trenches. One day they were like you and the next they were barking orders and suddenly so very concerned with regulations."

Matthew grimaced at that. Yes, that was true… he'd gone through much the same thing himself on both sides. He'd dealt with the pompous blowhards and he could admit that he had become one himself when he'd been promoted to captain. It was fear that drove him to do that and he imagined others as well. When you were just a soldier you thought you knew best and were aching to be given a chance to prove yourself. But then when you were given command you suddenly became terrified that people would die because of your mistakes. And in Matthew's case he'd also had the feeling of being an imposter. That he wasn't really a captain. It rather felt like he was a deserter who'd stolen a captain's uniform and was no pretending to be something he wasn't and at any moment someone would suddenly leap to their feet and point at him and scream, "Fake!" and all would know the truth. That he didn't belong there. He wondered if Larry had felt the same thing.

"At first things rather normal enough," Harold told them. "There was a bit of adjustment but that always comes when someone new is introduced to a squad. You have to feel everyone out, figure out who is who. The prankster that lightens things up. The serious one who keeps you on your toes. The renegade that will half the time make you want to tear your hair out and then turn around and inspire you to rush out into danger and seize victory. All of that." He smiled fondly. "It was a good group. I liked all of them. Johnson. Usher. Mason." Matthew forced himself not to stiffen at the mention of William. "Good lads. The best one could hope to fight with in the mud and blood.

"Like I said, things started off rather normal under Captain Gray. He was like any other freshly promoted man; just trying to prove that he was worthy of his new rank. We had some battles, lost a few good boys, but we also began to make some headway." He set the tea cup down and flexed his fingers. "But then we got stuck. That's how it is over there… you think you are finally making some headway only for everything to come to a stand still. You are just trapped in the same trenches day in and day out, taking pot shots at the Germans and knowing that unless you do something stupid you are going to wake up the next day and repeat things all over. Just a steady grind until the dam breaks and you find yourself in the rush again, hurrying forward and taking ground or retreating back and it feels like you can't ever catch your breath."

The General reached out and patted the soldier's left leg. "Take your time, lad."

Harold, his hands having begun to shake, took a mouthful of air before nodding his head in thanks. "Yes sir. Thank you sir." They all let the man get a firmer grip on his emotions; Matthew especially knew what the man was going through and just how truly right he was about the chaos that was war. He remembered well how many times it had felt like him and his men were stuck in some kind of purgatory, trapped to repeat the same day over and over again, only for things to suddenly shift without warning and they were all trying to find something to hold onto and ground themselves.

War was like clinging to a mountain, knowing that at any moment the stone might crumble and you were sent plummeting down, desperately trying to find another rock to hang onto.

"Captain Gray began to become annoyed. He'd taken us over during one of the great pushes and I think he believed that this would be the final one, what we'd all been waiting for. When finally at long last we'd drive back the Germans and win the day. But when it tapered off as it always does… he didn't take kindly to that. Barked at us to fight harder, to keep a steady eye out for a chance to break through their lines. We lost some good men trying to find some way to end the stalemate. For nothing, which was the worst thing. They died without giving us even gaining an inch.

"Worse, every failure seemed to weigh on Captain Gray. Not as you would have expected though. He didn't see it as a loss of life or a failure to help one's country. Instead… it was as if he were desperately reaching out, trying to grasp at something that kept alluding him so he was forced to make his lunges more wild and frenzied. More daring and risky. And that… that is when the excuses truly began. He broke protocol so many times. When we were supposed to move in order to minimize risk, the positioning of sentries and patrols because he thought he'd come up with some new strategy. Sending men out without support, just all on their own. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder what actually happened to them. The Captain… he said they were traitors who'd run off or were too weak to complete the mission and we were now better off without them-"

CRACK!

"Matthew!" Mary exclaimed in horror, grabbing his wrists. It took Matthew a moment to realized that he'd shattered his tea cup, sending shards of porcelain and warm tea upon his hands. Thankfully he hadn't gone for a hot drink or he'd have been burned but still it was still very much a fright for Mary and he felt in that moment great sorrow for scaring her as he had.

She not-so-gently tugged him away from the sitting room, up the stairs to their bedroom, and then bellowed Molesley's name as if she were an army captain herself demanding her soldiers shape up and get a move on. His valet hurried in and Mary demanded he stripe Matthew of his jacket and shirt while she got some cool water. The moment Matthew was down to just his undershirt Mary began to run the cloth over his hands, clucking with worry the entire time.

"I'm completely fine, Mary, I assure you."

"Let me be the judge of that," Mary insisted, lifting up his hands and pulling his fingers apart as she looked for cuts and burns. "I won't have your birthday ruined by you feeling the need to hide your injuries because of some chauvinistic need to shield me from your pain."

Matthew merely shook his head, smiling at how much Mary cared for him… yet also could be so utterly Mary. "Very well but I am fine."

"What happened in there?" she asked as she traced the tips of her fingers along his palms. "And don't dare lie to me. You are horrible at it."

'Really?' Matthew thought to himself, wondering how his wife would react if she knew just how long he'd been hiding things from her… and what exactly he'd failed to disclose. 'I am sure telling her the truth now would go over so well. "Well Mary, I was reacting to Larry Gray mocking the deaths of good soldiers because I remember what it is like to be sent off on what felt like needless missions for commanders who were only interested in their own glory. Oh, how do I know that? Well, I'm actually from an alternate timeline!". Oh yes, that would go over so well…'

"Well, you see fine enough, I suppose. Though of course I wish this hadn't happened in the first place." Mary shook her head in annoyance and Matthew merely smiled.

"I suppose I'll need to stick to cool drinks for the near future, for safety of course."

"Very much so," she said firmly before standing up and letting Molesley dress him once again.

Matthew had just slipped on his jacket when the General knocked on the door. "I've sent Harold off. Are you alright, Matthew?"

"Just an accident. The tea cup took the worst of it." He smiled as sat down on the bed, Mary moving to join him while Molesley went off to see to his other duties. "Did you get what you needed from Harold?"

"Yes and no," Allen said with a huff. "Much of what he said about Larry is rather bad but… it all could be seen as rather poor happenstance and coincidence."

"But you think differently," Mary pressed.

Allen nodded. "I do. These were the actions of a man promoted too soon. Larry became concerned with his own standing and innocent men died for that failure. Worse I am quite sure that there is more to the tale than even Harold knows."

"What do you mean?" Matthew asked.

"The attack that took out Larry and his men, that left them all dead or maimed… there is something wrong there. They were found too far back from the German lines based on communicates we got from them. I looked into it. Something… something happened there, I just know it." The General shook his head. "The problem is that my feelings aren't evidence. Michael says we need more if we are to truly press the issue."

"Then what must we do?" mary asked. "Come now, I know you Allen… you wouldn't have entered in here without some plan on where we head next."

"We will be doing nothing," the General counted.

Mary set her jaw and rose up. "Oh? And why is that? Because I am a woman and can't handle such things?"

"No, because our next step involves Downton abbey and you refuse to step foot back there."

"…ah," Mary said, caught on the wrong foot with that. "Quite. Yes. I suppose you are right there." She sat back down before looking up at Allen once more. "If we could trick my father away…"

"What is it you need, Allen?" Matthew asked. "I hope you don't think I can trick Larry into confessing."

"No no… rather it is someone else I have in mind that can solve this problem."

"And that is?"

"William Mason."