This chapter has once again been edited with my 2 year-old niece interfering wherever she could, so I do hope there are no cardinal errors in this
Mary slowly and carefully ascended the stairs, thumbing through the stack of letters that Parker had just given her as he passed her down in the hall. Her meeting with a few of their tenant farmers was still a while off, and so she decided to deliver the letters to her mother herself — she would likely end up taking most of them with herself either way. It was still far too early for her mother to resume her duties as lady of the house, no matter how much she wanted to.
Mary deemed it still far too early for her mother to be anywhere but in a hospital bed — she looked so weak and outright frail lying in bed in between the countless pillows Robert insisted on fluffing every half hour while being covered in multiple duvets. And yet, the doctors in London had seen things differently and sent her home to convalesce in her usual surroundings three days ago.
Mary had wanted to speak to her parents ever since they returned from London a few days ago, but there had simply never been the right moment. But maybe that one moment would never come, so she had decided to take matters into her own hands and now found herself knocking at their bedroom door.
"Papa? Mama?"
Surprised by the sudden sound coming from the door behind him, Robert, who was sitting in his usual armchair, craned his head and, upon seeing his eldest daughter poke her head inside, replied: "Yes, my dear?"
"Do you have a minute to spare?" Mary asked as she looked first at her father and then her mother. Cora was lying in bed, somewhat sitting up, seeming almost lost buried beneath the blankets and between all the pillows — it was no different from the days that had passed.
"I don't have anywhere else to be, and it seems your Papa hasn't, either. Come in," Cora said in jest as they waited for her to walk in and take a seat.
Cora slowly sat up further in bed, somewhat mirroring her husband. He closed the file he had been quite engrossed in for a while already and put it to the side. It had intrigued Cora, but she knew better than to ask what it was about. Either, he would not answer her or he would go into such detail that she would fall asleep and she was not in the mood for either.
"What is it, Mary?" Cora asked once Mary had taken a seat on the edge of her mother's chaise longue, facing both of them.
"First of all, quite some letters have arrived for you again, I will put them on your dressing table to look through," she said, holding up the small stack of envelopes in her hand.
"Thank you, dear. I will have a look later and get the important ones to you soon. And what else?"
Expectantly, both parents looked at their eldest daughter and waited for her to talk, Robert almost literally on the edge of his seat.
Mary hesitated. Was she right in talking to her parents about this? Was it right for her to interfere in this way, to impose on her privacy like so? Then she remembered her aunt talking about what happened back in late September 1900, and the image of her aunt all alone in her house, staring out the window with a glass of whiskey in hand in broad daylight, was enough to justify her earlier decision. With a sigh, she said: "I am concerned about Aunt Rosamund."
Robert's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're concerned about Rosamund? Why's that?" he asked bluntly. His daughter did not want to talk about some estate business, as he had been expecting just then.
"Well, I talked to her when we all stayed with her in London, and I got the strong impression that she is incredibly lonely in Belgrave Square on her own. She did not even deny it when I questioned her about it. I believe Granny's death has had a far bigger impact on her than I initially thought."
Robert's brows furrowed. He had known his sister was feeling things much more deeply than she let on, she always had, but things couldn't be that bad, surely. And they had spoken on the matter a few times already. Slowly and tentatively, he said: "Your mother and I have asked her to come here and stay with us whenever she wants multiple times when we were in London and she said she would if she felt the need."
"She mentioned that you did, but she will never come on her own, we all know her better than that. She has always been independent, and coming here would mean she would have to freely give up most of that independence," Mary elaborated. "No, someone has to ask her to move back here permanently and give her a good reason. Just asking is not enough, I am afraid."
Simply thinking back to that peculiar and emotionally devastating conversation and the shocking information about her past her aunt had shared was enough for Mary to be quite adamant in voicing her concerns.
After that episode of weakness, as she had taken to call it, a few weeks back, she felt very strongly for her aunt and everything she had gone through, much more than ever before.
Cora, who had stayed mostly silent and observed the conversation between her daughter and husband, then asked carefully: "What exactly did she say that has you so concerned?"
She should tell them, shouldn't she? It would certainly make them see things the way she was seeing them. But then, it wasn't her story to tell, and clearly her aunt had not yet been ready to talk to her brother and sister-in-law about it. No, telling her parents about that tragic aspect of her aunt's life was not right, not at all. It was not her place; it was not her story to share.
"It's not only what she said, but what she did," Mary tried to evade the question. "She spends her time looking out the window, watching the people pass by on the street below because she has nothing else to do. She was even able to tell me about some people's career choices she picked up on over time. We haven't been visiting as much as we did when we were younger, either. She is incredibly lonely, but she would never freely admit to that. I am truly concerned for her, Mama."
"Rosamund is what?" Robert asked bluntly, seeming quite baffled by his daughter's revelation about his sister's newfound pastime. And he had ample reason for that. This was not at all like the Rosamund he had known all his life.
Mary only nodded in confirmation, saying: "I told you, it is bad."
"I will talk to her," Robert retorted determinedly. He had not realised how much their mother's death had influenced not only him, but his sister as well. He had not forgotten about his outburst just ahead of New Year's. He had just assumed that she was doing fine, that she had made peace with the situation much more easily than he had.
It was his sister who had been the one to say that they were orphans at last. A sentence he could never have uttered, least of all ahead of the funeral. But maybe that had just been a ploy for his sister, a ploy she used to put on a brave face and detach herself from her innermost thoughts and feelings.
Still dwelling on that, he stood up and walked to the window next to Cora's dressing table. Winter was finally ending, the excessive amounts of snow that had fallen in December and January were all but gone and he could feel that one day soon, the sun would reappear behind all those dark clouds. Spring was coming. The trees would carry leaves again, the flowers would soon begin to bloom. The world would look better in just a few weeks. He only hoped that this would reflect their lives, too. He hoped that the months of hardship they all had to face would soon be over, for he did not know how much longer he alone would be able to bear all of this. Not to mention his wife and the rest of their family.
"But what reason would you give?" Mary retorted, looking at her father's regal figure standing in front of the window. She had tried, after all. She had tried to make her aunt see reason, she had tried to persuade her. To no avail.
"Tom!" Cora suddenly said excitedly from her position on the bed and both, her husband and her daughter, whipped their heads around to look at her incredulously.
Mary stared at her mother, confusion and bewilderment clearly written all over her face. Tom wasn't here at Downton, she would have known, and the door to the bedroom was still closed as far as she could tell. There was no other reason for her mother to say his name that way if he was not there. Was she beginning to imagine things?
Upon seeing her daughter's puzzled look, Cora elaborated: "Tom came to visit me at the hospital a few days before I was sent back home. He asked us if he could move back here with Lucy and the children because Brampton apparently doesn't feel like home. Not in the way Downton does."
"He has? Why has he not mentioned this to me?" Mary asked perplexed, more than a hint of hurt evident in her voice. "And what does this have to do with Aunt Rosamund?"
"I do not know why he hasn't said anything to you about it, you'd have to ask him. But now that Tom is moving back to the abbey, we can just say that the entire family lives here. Apart from Edith, obviously. Maybe that could sway her!" Cora said, still excited by her sudden flash of inspiration.
"But let's suppose she still says no? Because of her independence, perhaps?" Robert retorted, turning around again. His sister was very headstrong, she would not give in so easily, he knew that. She was far too much like their mother in that regard.
For a second, Cora seemed deep in thought, as did Mary. They furrowed their brows exactly the same way, looking off into nothingness. The sight was quite funny, Robert had to admit, and had the topic of his sister's apparent struggles not been so prominent in his mind, he might have laughed at the scene in front of him. The apple had truly not fallen far from the tree with these two.
Slowly and very deliberately, Cora spoke up after a little while. "What if you offer her the Dower House, Robert? She would be living on her own, but still very close to where she grew up. She could visit us here at the abbey whenever she pleases and still lead her own life away from everyone else. Just like your mother did."
Robert and Mary both pondered her words. The Dower House was empty after all, and it was nearby.
Walking over to his wife in a few quick strides, Robert excitedly exclaimed: "You are truly extraordinary, Cora!", before quickly bending down to kiss her cheek. She was incredible — this plan could work with the ideas she had just given him.
With a satisfied smile on her face, Mary stood up and left the room, granting her parents their privacy again.