"What do you think, Mary?" Robert asked, walking up to his daughter as she looked about the main entryway of Grassley Way. It was perfectly clean, with the floors so shiny he could see himself in them and he wagered that he could have picked any surface and eaten on it without an ounce of fear.

"The doors aren't thick enough," Mary said.

"To keep out the cold?"

"To hold off grandmamma."

Robert merely shook his head at that, chuckling at the comment. "I suppose if there was anyone who would be able to lead a siege against an English castle in this day and age it would be your grandmother. Do you think she would use standard warfare or bring some of those Indians that they are always writing about attacking the Western forts?"

"This isn't a laughing matter, papa," Mary said with a huff. "Grandmamma is going to be here in a few weeks and we have no plan on how to deal with her." She frowned. "Other than throwing Lillian at her and I think my dear sister has caught on." Mary had noticed Lillian looking about for paths to escape recently.

"We will deal with her by being honest and asking for her forgiveness," he pointed out.

Mary just shot him a flat look. "I never took you for a deluded fool, papa."

"Mary, Mary, Mary," he said, walking up and wrapping an arm around her. "It will be fine. Yes, she will be upset and I am sure she will spew some insults our way but we will manage. Cutting remarks about British sensibility and all that twaddle. We'll find a way to make it up to her."

"I plan to tell her it is entirely your fault," Mary said. Robert blinked at that, surprised, bur Mary merely flashed a smile his way. "Oh, it will be all fine, papa…"

"Right," Robert said with a groan, realizing the trap he'd walked right into. Realizing that he had no hope of talking his way out of the situation at the moment he did the only thing he could and made for a tactical retreat. "Honestly Mary… what do you think of this place?"

"It's rather large, isn't it?" she finally said.

"Large? Truly? I thought it rather quant and small."

"You have been living in Downton. I have spent the last few years in a townhouse in London… one that had the General and Catherine there. This is nearly three times its size and it will just be Matthew and I!" Robert couldn't help but stare at her. "What?"

"Sometimes I forget just how much all of us have changed since the day the War began. And then you say things like that…"

"Yes yes, I have matured quite a bit. Many years alive will do that." She pulled away from him but it wasn't because of any anger or distress; rather she just wanted to begin walking around the estate some more, that was clear from how she began to inspect the rooms, poking her head in and murmuring to herself. Cora and Matthew had gone upstairs with Edith and Michael while Sybil and Tom had gone to look over the grounds.

"The estate is both more modern and more old fashion that Downton, don't you think?" he asked as Mary headed down a hall.

"It was built in the 18th century, wasn't it?" Mary asked.

"It was. It became a part of the estate through my great-grandmother's inheritance. My father used to use it as a hunting retreat though that was before I reached maturity as I frankly don't remember coming here. We rented it out mostly when I was old enough to pay attention and I continued on with that tradition when I became Lord but there is no one who will be living here now." They entered in a library, Mary looking over the books. "Because of that there has been no real move to modernize it. There aren't the problems that Downton Abbey has… far less leaks, less drafts, so on, but it will need to be brought up to match what you are used to."

"Will the servants need to fetch water from the river and bring it up?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Hardly," he assured her, only half sure she was joking. "More that telephones will need to be installed, lighting too, and some updates to the downstairs. With the investments Matthew and I… very well, that Matthew has made and I have maintained… you would be able to do much with it."

"Hmmm," Mary said before moving towards one of the back halls. "Phones will be needed, yes. And I want to make sure the servants are comfortable. I think I will seek out Anna and Thomas on that count; they will give me honest views; if I asked Carson he would claim that he could survive in a wooden crate." Robert laughed at that. "No… not Anna. Perhaps Sybil can reach out to that former maid friend of hers. Gwen. Anna will be too kind. I want Baxter and Molesley to be comfortable." She paused. "Where is the stairs?"

"Well, back the way we came-"

"Not to the upper floor, papa," Mary said. "Downstairs."

"I… don't quite know," Robert admitted.

"Well we must find them!" Mary said and she hurried off, Robert following along like a duckling trying to keep up with its mother. "We won't have to tap into too many of Downton's funds, papa. Matthew and I saved up quite a bit during the War, assuming we'd have to purchase a house ourselves. We can use that to help with any remodeling. The master bedroom should be fine but I'll want to make sure we convert some of the guest rooms."

"Whatever for?" he asked as she began to seek out the entrance to the servant's stairs.

Mary didn't even glance back at him. "Well, it wouldn't be right for you and Mama to have rooms for Matthew and I while we don't do the same for you. Sybil and Tom, Edith and Michael-"

"I'm sure they don't-"

"But I want them to have them," Mary said firmly. "The General and Catherine… they never made Matthew and I feel like guests. They made us feel like their home was our own. I want the same for this place. I want those I love to have rooms of their own, for them to never be guests."

"Of course," Robert said with a soft smile, instantly seeing her logic.

"Now then… the General and Catherine I imagine whatever rooms I give them won't need much done to change them; Allen would prefer to sleep on a cot some nights I think."

"Quite," Robert said with a laugh. "Do you know he is trying to convince Lord Merton and I to go out in the woods and stay in tents like we used to do during our service? He says it would make fishing all the more exciting. No servants, no 'soft silk pillows', just men living as they did before they earned their titles."

Mary let out a huffing laugh at the thought. "Oh yes, papa, I can see it now: you wearing pants that come to your knees and no shoes, standing in the muck like Tom Sawyer."

Robert, slightly put off by her jesting, puffed up a bit. "I wasn't sure about it but he did make some good points. It might be rather entertaining to do so. We'd be on Allen's lands, of course, so it wouldn't be like we were in the African bush… but there is something appealing about getting back to basics. To simplify things. Nowadays a hunt feels so… complex. I can't just declare I want to go out and shoot at something. No, that would make me look crazy. I need to set up a party for that and that becomes a whole ordeal. Who to invite, what will we feed them, how long, what will the dinner afterwards be like because we must have a dinner… you remember our last hunt, don't you?"

It took Mary a moment to answer. "I do. And yes, it felt like there was a lot of build up and a lot that came at the end and there was not much in the middle. Rather like a sandwich with too much bread." Without even turning around Mary said, "And wipe that look off your face, papa. Not every meal must be dreadfully fancy. I have fond memories of Matthew and I returning from an event at the War Office and sharing a quick meal in the kitchen. Sometimes a bit of meat and cheese on two slices of warm bread does more than a full meal at Downton."

"Don't let Mrs. Patmore hear you say that. She'd be horrified that we didn't want one of her grand meals."

~MC~MC~MC~

"A sandwich!" Mrs. Patmore ranted. "A sandwich! Just for once… I wish they'd just let me make sandwiches!" She growled and grabbed her biggest meat tenderizer before attacking the slab of beef.

~MC~MC~MC~

"Don't misunderstand… there are days where I want nothing more than a grand feast. It is nice to dress up and sit in the dining room and enjoy rich food and even richer conversation. But there are just as many days…" she trailed off. "Don't you ever just wish that you could have a day where you didn't have to worry about every little thing? How you look, how you stand, what words you say, which ones you don't? Just… enjoy living your life?"

"…yes, I suppose so," Robert stated. "It comes from growing old and realizing how little time you have left."

"And we are both rather old, papa."

"You are still quite young, Mary," he teased her.

But she merely shook her head. "What if I told you that I feel like I have lived two lives, papa? That everything that has happened… it makes it feel like I have done everything twice. Two wars, two romances, all of that?"

"I think all of us feel that way," Robert admitted. "The War… is changed things and the added stress of your exile-"

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Ah, here we are!" she smiled as she finally found the door to the servant's stairway. "Now then, let us have a look."

Robert followed her down the stairs, slightly bemused as she turned on the gas lights and tutted about needing to improve those. It had been a long while since he had gone down to the servants' hall at Downton but he remembered it well enough from the rare occasion he'd needed to talk with Carson in his office; just a few times where it was easier to go down there than demand Carson bring up all his ledgers. But from what he could remember of Downton and what he saw of Grassley they looked rather the same, the only major difference being, as he'd told Mary, that Downton had seen efforts made to modernize it. Honestly it was rather like walking back in time, being in the manor house. Like returning to the Downton of his youth. He half expected to turn a corner and find his sister, 8 years old again and sneaking cookies.

"Hmmm… no," Mary finally said as they walked about. "I can already tell this will be a problem."

"What do you mean?" Robert asked, looking about. He didn't see any leaks, no cracks in the walls, no holes in the floor-

"The kitchen simply won't do," Mary said with a shake of her head. "Far too small."

"It… looks large enough to me," Robert said.

"For the cook, whoever we select," Mary said with a roll of her eyes. "No… we'll need to go upstairs and figure out how to convert one of the back rooms. There won't be enough room down here to expand."

"I'm sorry but I'm a touch lost," Robert said. "What exactly is the problem?"

"I need my kitchen, papa," Mary said. "One where I don't need to fight with the cook about where we put the flour or how I stack the bowls. Someplace that is just mine."

"…ah," Robert said, at once cluing in to what the problem was. While Cora had mentioned once that she assumed Mary's love of baking would disappear with her back at Downton Robert had known better. Honestly he was rather glad… he had developed a bit of an addiction to her ginger snaps. "Yes, I suppose you are right."

"Of course I am right," Mary said with a smug little nod. "I must admit I am a touch startled that you are agreeing with me. I thought you'd be telling me how it isn't the place of a lady to be slaving away at a hot stove."

"First off I doubt anyone could force you to be a slave. If you had been in 1001 Tales you'd had already made your escape the first time the Sultan fell asleep."

"Please," Mary said, waving her hand about dismissively as she went back towards the stairs, "that is far too simple. I would have killed him, saved my sister, and then taken over the kingdom." Robert had to admit he could see Mary doing just that, strangling the sultan with a sheet before claiming the throne. "And the second thing?"

"If the War has taught me anything it is that the world has changed and we must as well. It is… appealing… to try and go back to the way things once were. To simply brush aside all that happened and act as if nothing happened. But… we can't do that, can we?"

"No," Mary said softly, stopping on one of the stairs. "We can't."

"The world has been altered. It is… fuller and yet more empty at the same time. One only has to look at Downton herself and see that is true." He looked down at his hand, pressed against the wall, fingers splayed out so wide they ached. "There are days when I look up and wonder just who that tall lad is and where William might be…"

"Papa," Mary said softly.

But he waved her off. "But like I said, the world is fuller as well. Why, your grandmother alone… she has taken to going on walks with William's father, did you know that? She likes to get out now, says it is helping her hip as she has found, as odd as it might seem, that staying still is what causes it to hurt more. So she likes to wander some of the farms I've allowed her control over and she loves Mr. Mason's the most. Said it reminds her of her youth." He shook his head. "I'm glad she figured the hip out on her own. I realized from John that truth but I never knew how to broach it with her."

"Yes, I imagine that would have been a rather pleasant conversation," Mary said dryly.

"So you baking and setting up your own kitchen… well, it might not have ever been done before but it doesn't mean it CAN'T be done. We must remember that haven't and can't are not the same thing."

"Very true, papa, very true." The two of them continued on. "And what of you? What are you doing now to fill your days?"

Robert instantly perked up. "Well, the truth of the matter is I was going to ask if I might spend a bit of time here." He held up his hand quickly. "Not that I want to make sure you and Matthew can handle yourselves. I know you can. Rather… well, it's the library."

"The library?" Mary asked.

"Did Matthew tell you what I was up to when Downton was a hospital?"

Mary paused a bit too long for Robert's liking. "He and I didn't discuss you much."

"Yes, of course, how silly of me," he said, keeping his words light and flat so not to make her think he was upset. Because truthfully he had no justification to be upset. It was his own fault that his name had become taboo for her for so long. "Tom gave me the idea that Downton's library was rather large and contained many rare books, ones that certain academic institutions may not have. I contacted a few and sure enough they were more than happy to provide me a list of books that they were looking for and I made quite a project out of going through the library and the small library." He paused, chuckling a bit. "I may have done it twice."

"Twice?" Mary asked.

"I was about half way through when it occurred to me that I had books that they might never have known about. So working with Carson I started over and we cataloged every book Downton has. Some we lent to them to be copied. Others were traded… there were a few books I had duplicates of. Why my grandfather had purchased four of the same book on the migration patterns of swallows I'll never know but there was a chap, Graham I think was his name, who was rather eager to get a copy and I was happy to let him have one."

"I suppose everyone has interests," Mary said. "So you have a catalog of every book?"

"Yes and my next step will be to better organize the shelves. Utterly appalling."

"I think many of them were bought just to have people look at the spines," Mary pointed out.

Robert hissed at that. "Books, Mary, are made to be enjoyed! I am quite glad I was able to arrange things better at Downton so we can do just that. That is why I want to do the same thing here, either before you and Matthew move in or perhaps later."

"I don't see the trouble in that," Mary said. "You can go through the books and I will bake. The librarian and the baker at work while the lawyer manages contracts."

"You jest but I think I would have made a fine librarian," Robert told her with a bit of smugness. "The quietness of the shelves, making sure every book is in place, helping eager minds find just the right source of knowledge…"

Honestly it was something Robert had been thinking about a lot the last few months. How much simpler his life would be if he could stop worrying about the estate and the tenants and just spend his days in a library quietly going through the books, putting the ones returned onto the shelves while selecting others that he knew people would be needing for exams or their studies. Wake up as the sun was just beginning to rise and make his way to the quietness of the library, unlocking the door and breathing in the dry air, and then moving along the rows, knowing that everything was in its right place.

His father had arranged for Downton to have a hospital… Robert was beginning to think his own memorial would be to give it a library.

"We'll have to arrange it with Matthew, of course," Mary said, pulling him from his thoughts. "Assuming you wish to do it while we are here. If you want to do it before we arrive then you'd need to hurry. Matthew and I were thinking it be best to settle into whatever home we select before winter arrives and with all that needs to be done we'll need to do that sooner rather than later."

"Of course," Robert stated quickly. "And it can wait too." He paused. "Your mother suggested perhaps… that is to say… the both of us might come here for a few months… once any babies-"

Mary let out an annoyed groan. "I assume that is mama talking? Did she demand you bring it up?"

"…no?" Robert said and he winced at how that sounded to his own ears. Honestly he wouldn't have believed himself if he heard that and he wasn't shocked that Mary didn't believe him either.

Mary stormed up the stairs in a huff. "Is it because she wants a grandchild or an heir?" she demanded.

"The first," Robert said without hesitation.

That caused her to soften… slightly. "Well… Matthew and I want to get settled in first. Make sure that we have our home ready before we welcome G… a baby." He wasn't sure what she was about to say and didn't question her. "I promise that Matthew and I aren't going to leave you two wanting for a decade. You will get your grandson."

"Or granddaughter," Robert said and at once he knew that was the right thing to say because Mary whipped around to smile at him before hurrying off, telling him they needed to pick out which room would become her kitchen.

Grassley… yes… Robert was sure it would make a fine Downton Place.

~MC~MC~MC~

Clarence Massey was good at what he did. He needed to be, if he hoped to maintain his status as the man those who were known for fixing problems went to in their own times of need.

That was something that the rich and powerful didn't understand about the world, that things didn't happen with a snap of one's fingers. A Duke or a Baron would demand that something happened and then expect it to… just happen. They didn't understand that the world was becoming far more complex than it had been even ten years ago. And what had been simple before the war was now far more difficult to achieve now.

The world was rapidly changing. 500 years ago a man could live his entire life and not see anything change. A hundred years ago one major change could happen. 50 years ago it seemed like every generation would see the world altered just a bit. Now it felt like the changes were coming every year and soon it would be counted in months.

Need a famous castle to serve as the location for your heir's wedding? Where once one would have their pick now there were a thousand things to consider. Was there plumbing? Lights? What was the condition of the walls and the ceilings? What was the history of the castle, for if it held a poor reputation then that would affect a family. How would people get there? How would they leave?

So many new questions and lords thought that those in their employ should be able to take care of everything instantly without a care.

And that was where Clarence came in.

When a land agent or the head of estate maintenance or any other position found themselves with a nearly impossible task they would seek out Clarence, knowing that he could quietly help them achieve the impossible. He did so through his own contacts; favors called in, requests made to the right people, things that would stun a lord if they knew that he had been brought in to assist.

If only some of the barons who had benefited from his work knew of the criminals, thugs, whores, and underworld scum that had seen their problems disappear.

Not that Clarence only used underhanded tactics and relied upon thieves and ruffians. Just as often he would go to librarians, scholars, and scientists in order to get things taken care of. Just as he would talk with princesses and politicians as well. Clarence didn't care who he needed to go to in order to make things happen. Just so long as he got things done.

That was the important thing.

"It's been a while, Clarence," George Murray said with a polite smile. The two of them were in London, seated in a gentlemen's club's private room, enjoying some fine tea.

"We haven't spoken since before the War," Clarence said. "Did you play a part in that?"

"No," the lawyer admitted. "They felt my health made me too much of a risk to draft. Age too, naturally."

"Of course," Clarence said. "The same."

That was a lie. He had worked for the Home Office, securing deals with criminals in Germany to help sabotage the German war effort. No one would ever learn of his work but he was fine with that as frankly if anyone did find out it would be risking his own life. In the long run he had helped end the threat of the Kaiser… in the short run it had been treason.

"In fact I believe it was because of… well, Lord Grantham's heir that we last met," Murray said.

"That was a rather interesting one, though rather easy," Clarence stated. "From what I've heard Lord Grantham was rather pleased with the results."

"For a time," Murray said and Clarence hid his eye roll; Murray was such a snob for a middle class lawyer. Like so many of those that reached high standings in noble households he wrapped their glory around himself and treated it as his own.

"And once more," Clarence couldn't help but say, liking how Murray tried to hide his wince at that. "Now then, what is it that Lord Grantham wants of me?"

"For help… but not for him," Murray stated.

"Well, color me intrigued."

Murray reached into his briefcase. "I have been asked to handle this as the family I need you to look into is dealing with other issues and having them investigate this so soon after their… tragedies… would be frowned upon."

Clarence leaned forward. "Would I be right to assume you are speaking of Lord Merton?"

"You are. Can you-"

"Consider it done." He held out his hand and accepted the file that Murray had grabbed. "I will find you Lord Merton's heir… that is my promise."