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Ever since Thomas heard that conversation between Lady Mary and Mr Crawley, he could not get it out of his head. He decided to tell O'Brien about it, she was terrific at keeping secrets, and perhaps two people could make sense of what had been said.
“Mary, I could never despise you. Please, I beg of you, tell me. It cannot be so horrid that–”
“I'm afraid it is, cousin Matthew. It is.”
“I simply do not believe that.” Matthew grabbed Mary's hand. “Please.”
“You will never look at me the same…”
“That won't happen. That could never happen.”
“Very well… you remember Mr Pamuk?”
“One can hardly forget a man who died so suddenly and tragically.”
“Yes. Well…”
“Is that it?”
“I know, you despise me now, I unders—”
“Despise you? Are you kidding?”
Lady Mary's eyes widened. “I can assure you I am not kidding. This is the truth.”
“God, Mary, I thought you were a serial killer or something!” Matthew laughed in disbelief.
“I could very well be.”
“Nonsense. Do you think in my years growing up in Manchester, in a middle class family I haven't had a few girlfriends?”
“Matthew, Mr Pamuk was not my ‘boyfriend’, if that is what you're getting at,” Mary hissed. “He was… a lover.”
“Lover, boyfriend… it does not matter. Everyone had them. Outside of your circles, of course. I mean no offense.”
“None taken,” Mary smiled. It was as if a boulder had been lifted off her heart. “But I cannot imagine that ‘everyone’ had a boyfriend.”
Matthew lowered his voice. “Why, if even I had one? Marriage is not life, Lady Mary.”
“What?” Mary asked rather un-distinguished. “Could you repeat? I had to have misheard, I'm afraid. I thought you said…”
“I said what you think I have. Everyone has a past, Mary. With secrets and people. Shall we go? Everyone must be waiting for us,” Matthew gestured towards the drawing room.
Mary looked at him once more, with widened eyes, then followed him.
“Miss O'Brien, a minute! I have… news.”
“What news, Thomas?” the lady's-maid asked. It was after the servants’ ball, she was just about to go up when Thomas had caught him in the servants hall's corridor.
“Interesting ones,” he kept going on. “See…”
“Excuse me, excuse me,” Mrs Patmore cut through them. “What are you two scheming here again?” she shook her head.
“Scheming… how nasty…”
“Nasty alright,” the cook nodded and cut through again, carrying a few glasses.
“What is it you want, Thomas?” O'Brien whispered.
“I am in possession of some information that may come handy.”
“Information or gossip?”
“Information, about Mr Crawley nonetheless; heard it with me own ears!”
“What have you heard with your own ears?” Anna asked. She was going up to attend to the girls.
“I believe that is none of your business, Anna,” Thomas turned to her. The maid shot them a look and hurried up the steps.
“About Mr Crawley? Him?” O'Brien shook her head.
“Useful stuff at that, too. Though it may be hypocritical of me to use it.”
“Lord, Thomas, what have you done again?”
“I didn't do nothing, Miss O'Brien. It was Mr Crawley.”
“And what did he do…?”
“Men.”
“Good God, Thomas! Where have you… how… are you sure you're not sick? The Spanish flu is not gone yet, you know…”
“I heard what I heard, Miss O'Brien. He has been telling Lady Mary about it a while back.”
“Oh dear God…” Miss O'Brien looked at the ceiling. “Leave me out of this, will you?”
“I do not intend to do anything with this information. I merely thought I would share it with a friend.”
“I am not your friend,” O'Brien left. Thomas was stranded, alone in the corridor until Mr Carson showed up and told him to go and do his job at once, because he isn't paid to dilly-dally around.
***
“Good morning Mr Crawley!”
“O'Brien,” Matthew nodded as they passed each other in the hallway the next morning. O'Brien couldn't help but turn after him and stare for an inappropriate amount of time.
“O'Brien, are you quite alright?” Lady Grantham asked as she combed her hair.
“Yes, your ladyship. Sorry, your ladyship. I am a bit tired, is all.” The lady's-maid has been lost in thought all morning.
“Oh, I hope the ball didn't tire you out too much,” Lady Grantham shot her one of her signature pitiful looks that one would only normally see given to dying orphans, but Cora Crawley liked to grace everyone with it, no matter what happened.
“No, your ladyship. It was pleasant.”
“Oh, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I know I did.”
***
“Cousin Mary! What a surprise! Do come in!” Isobel invited Mary in. “We just had breakfast but Mrs Bird can—”
“Thank you Mrs Crawley, but I also just had breakfast.”
“Not having a luncheon today, then?” Matthew jokingly asked.
“Oh, no, the others are having one. I just woke up early. To talk with you, actually. If Mrs Crawley doesn't mind, of course,” she turned to the woman. Isobel gleefully shook her head and almost pushed them into the salon.
“I will send you tea, that I insist on!” she said before closing the door.
“I am so sorry on behalf of Mother, she has this belief that you are in… that we are in…”
“I understand. But that is not what I'm here for today.”
“I know. I… I think I have an idea about the purpose of your visit. As you have been avoiding me ever since.”
“And I am terribly sorry. I needed time. It's not everyday one is presented with such… things.”
“But surely this is not the first time you've heard about it. I mean, your footman Thomas…”
“Yes, Thomas. We all know what Thomas is like. …Mr Pamuk, of all people, told me.”
“Oh?” Matthew raised an eyebrow.
“Apparently Thomas had… approached him, for lack of a better word.”
“Oh my, poor bloke.”
“Though we cannot blame him, Mr Pamuk was a good-looking gentleman,” Mary smiled. This was the first time she talked about the Turkish diplomat without feeling shameful or on the verge of tears (though the latter she would never admit to anyone).
“But you are not here to discuss your footman,” Matthew reminded her.
“No, alas I'm not.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Molesley bringing in the tea tray and then Isobel showing up with a plate of biscuits. (“I am sorry, but I couldn't bear the thought of you going hungry!”)
“Does your mother… know?” Mary asked after the aforementioned exited the room.
“I would think so. She has to. I was not very smart at the time, I'm afraid.”
“Oh, and things have changed now?”
Matthew looked at Mary with a serious expression, but before she could begin apologising he burst out laughing.
“I am so sorry,” Mary laughed too.
“No, I deserved it. After dropping something like this down on you just like that.”
“It is not worse than my scandal will be. It may be for the best we are not married. Could you imagine the headlines? Future Lord and Lady Grantham, sexual deviants! or something along those lines.”
“It would certainly make the news,” Matthew agreed. “Lady Mary Crawley seduces foreigner!” he laughed.
“Matthew Crawley dabbles in homosexuality!” Mary retorted.
“Okay, it wasn't like that!” Matthew was on the verge of tears now. He put up a finger until he caught his breath. “It was not like that, it was not sudden.”
“Oh, so not some mishap in your dumb, youthful years?”
“Am I not youthful anymore?”
Mary rolled her eyes. “So you… you had planned it.”
“Mary, one does not plan to… to love.”
“I'm sorry, I thought it was different. You can imagine I am not that knowledgeable. I have led quite a sheltered life.”
“Yes, I know that.”
“Could I get a name? Just… out of curiousity. Maybe it has something to do with names?”
“God, Mary… it has nothing to do with names… Alexander, by the way.”
“Alexander… quite a good name. Is there a chance I know him?”
“None. We went to elementary school together and met again years later.”
“Oh. I see. And… you… what, looked at him and knew?”
“Mary, I did not ask for this many details about poor Mr Pamuk!” Matthew laughed.
“I'm terribly sorry, I am just curious by nature.”
“I'm not mad, just surprised you haven't barged in with a policeman or tried to exorcise me or something.”
“I will admit it, at first shock I thought of it… but then I thought ‘It probably wasn't like that. It couldn't have been. Cousin Matthew is a respectable man.’ So now here I am.”
“Do you think me less respectable now?” Matthew asked in a suddenly serious tone.
“Well… it is not natural. And…”
“But it did happen. Naturally. Is it not natural then?”
“Cousin Matthew, have you no shame?”
“About this? No.”
“I am amazed. I think I will go now. Thank your mother for the tea.” Mary went out through the glass door and stepped onto the garden path. Matthew ran after her.
“Cousin Mary!”
“Yes?” she turned around.
“However you may feel about it…”
“I will not tell. I am not foolish, Matthew. I do not wish for your persecution or downfall or whatever you would like to believe. I will just now… know.”
“Know what?” Matthew whispered, shocked that they were even having a conversation of this matter; out in the garden, in plain daylight!
“That you are… you know.”
“I am what?”
“Matthew, please. I did not come here to argue.”
“Answer me. What am I?”
Mary looked at him. In the days since their mutual confessions, every time she thought about him, caught a glimpse of him, or when someone mentioned him, all she could picture was… that. But now as she looked into his blue eyes that she once found so mesmerising, she realised that one, she still finds them mesmerising and two, she was looking into the eyes of someone she had known for almost ten years and someone she has been in love with for God knows how many. And nothing could change that.
“Matthew Crawley. You're just… my Matthew. Our Matthew,” she corrected quickly. This would be a bad time for a confession, especially because she was engaged.
Oh, Sir Richard could not find out she knows something. If he were to get it out of her… it would end in the worst possible way and Mary was sure that even her father's connections could not solve that problem.
She wasn't really sure that Lord Grantham would even try.
***
“What is all this buzz about, Mrs Patmore?” Daisy asked while stirring a bowl of sauce.
“Nothing that concerns you, Daisy, get back to work.”
“I am working, Mrs Patmore, I am just curious…”
“Curiosity killed the cat!” Mrs Patmore exclaimed and then went on to lecture some poor kitchen maid because she used the wrong spoon for the pasta.
“...but satisfaction brought it back,” Thomas finished the quote. Daisy looked at him, with a raised eyebrow.
“What do you know, Mr Barrow?”
“Nothing, Daisy. I know nothing. Should I take that up?” he pointed at a bowl.
“Yes, please,” Daisy nodded and decided she must ask Anna about this later. It was unfair that every time something happened in the house she was the last one to know, or she didn't even know at all!
“Anna, Anna! Do you have a minute?” Daisy looked up at the woman on top of the stairs. She had a basket of sheets on her, but didn't seem particularly busy. It was after the servants’ lunch and there was still time before having to start preparing for the dinner, so Mrs Patmore was less likely to send Daisy back to the kitchens.
Anna descended the stairs. “Yes?”
“Could we talk somewhere more… private?”
“Oh, Daisy, what secret do you have?”
“Not me, no.”
“Then who, Daisy?”
“Mr Barrow, I think.”
“Oh, Daisy. I told Mrs Patmore you will find out sooner or later; there was no need to create all that mystery. But don't tell anyone. Mr Barrow could get in big trouble for it.”
“What… no… I…” But before Daisy could explain, Anna left and Daisy was left without information once again.
***
“Mary, you have been so strange all dinner,” Violet noted.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Just a little tired. London can be exhausting.”
“Oh, I agree,” Violet nodded.
“I don't,” Isobel spoke up.
“Of course you don't,” Violet nodded again and resumed cutting her chicken.
“I think London is a terrific place. With opportunities and so many interesting people. Don't you think, Mary?”
“Yes, definitely. So many… interesting people.”
She spent her last week secretly seeking out information about Matthew Crawley's elementary school classmates. After that, she went on to find out where the five Alexander's the class had are now. One of them had since died, one was married and one was, quite frankly, ugly. That left two. Alexander Johnson, surgeon in Manchester and Alexander Lee, who worked in a café in London. After much deliberation, Mary decided it had to be Alexander Lee. Meeting an old classmate in a café seemed much more realistic and nonchalant than a surgeon. And she would know if Matthew had ever needed a surgeon, Cousin Isobel would have told the tale several times already, she was sure of that.
So that left Alexander Lee, employee of a small café in West-London.
As Mary entered the building, a bell rang above the door. The café was a little cramped, but cozy, with light tiles and a patterned pale blue wallpaper and a few small tables with carefully picked flower arrangements on them. The owner was clearly a woman, most likely one that Cousin Isobel would get along swimmingly with. Only one table was occupied, an old lady sat alone, reading a magazine and drinking from a porcelain cup.
“Good afternoon, Miss!” The man behind the counter greeted Mary. She looked at him. He was tall, with a handsome face and kind eyes. She could see the appeal. She just didn't see how Matthew could see the appeal.
“Good afternoon. I'm looking for an Alexander Lee. Are you Alexander Lee?”
“Yes. It's nothing wrong, I hope. No bad news.”
“No, no,” Mary shook her head. “I just know someone who may have known you and…”
“Look, Miss, I am on a schedule here, but if you order something I can make time for you.”
Quite the businessman, Mary thought. She ordered a cup of tea and soon sat down with Alexander Lee at the table in the corner that was most hidden from the others. Not like the old lady and her magazine would bother them, but still.
Mary liked her privacy.
“I am a friend of Matthew Crawley,” she began. “Well, cousin, really. Lady Mary Crawley.”
“Oh God. I was so rude. I am so sorry, Lady Mary…”
“No, no, it's quite alright. But I have to ask you to keep this meeting a secret. I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be asking about this and probably shouldn't even know this but…” she lowered her voice, “is it true that you and Matthew were… that you were…” It was not like Lady Mary Crawley to stumble on her words. “Is it true that you and Matthew were once romantically involved?” she managed to phrase it finally.
Alexander Lee's brown eyes widened and he froze. He looked terrified. He was terrified. There was no chance he could deny it after making a face like that.
“I am not asking this to make trouble,” Mary tried to nudge him. “I am merely curious.”
“Curiousity killed the cat, Lady Mary,” Alexander Lee said bleakly.
“Matthew himself told me about it. So please, Mr Lee, let satisfaction bring the cat back.”
“If he had told you then you already know what you need to know.”
“No, Mr Lee, you see… I am terribly in love with Matthew.” That was an odd thing to admit to a stranger. Especially if one was engaged.
“I'm familiar with the feeling, Lady Mary,” Alexander Lee seemed to have finally cracked after he realised Mary was no threat.
“...and he told me this,” Mary continued, “and I think I… I may have… I possibly could have… my reaction might not have been the best. And now Matthew thinks I'm some kind of monster, only because I don't understand him! Isn't it a lot to ask of me, Mr Lee? To be able to hear something like that and then just… get over it?”
“It must have been shocking.”
“It was. But that's all it was. Shock. Surprise. You have to understand, Mr Lee, I am not disgusted. Not by you, not by him. I know the law, of course, but the law cannot be right all the time. And it doesn't seem like you hurt anyone.”
“I hope so, Lady Mary. I try to.”
“So… I was hoping you could tell me a little more about… you and Matthew, Mr Lee.”
“It really is simple,” Alexander Lee shook his head. “We went to the same elementary school. We were friends. Not best friends, and not particularly close, but we were friends. Then we both went our ways, lived our lives. Many years later, when he was already a law student, he came in here with a girl. For some sort of date, I guess. Obviously we recognised each other, so we talked a little about the good ol’ days.”
“Mr Lee, no offense, but if he came here with a girl…”
“The girl left halfway through, she got mad about something. Female hysteria.”
“I'm sure she had her reasons,” Mary stood up for this unknown woman. They at least had their taste in men in common.
“After that, Matthew asked me if I'd like to grab a drink after my shift. To catch up, see how the other's been doing. I said yes, it was a drink and a chat with an old friend.”
“Then I assume ‘a drink’ turned into multiple?”
“You should be a fortune-teller, Lady Mary, you seem to know what's coming. So yes, we've been drinking and then… Lady Mary, I'd rather not go into details. I wouldn't want to explain to the police why the daughter of the Earl of Grantham suffered a heart attack on my floor.”
“How very considerate of you, Mr Lee,” Mary smiled. “And then? You started some sort of… sexual affair?”
“Lady Mary! Is that how you know Matthew? Does he seem like the type to do that?”
“Well, up until a month ago I did not even know you existed so who knows? Just like life, Matthew is full of surprises as well.”
“It was a proper relationship, Lady Mary. As much as it could be. I know I loved him.”
“Hm,” Mary said wisely. She never really considered that. Love seemed like a hassle enough for regular people, she couldn't imagine it would be any better for Mr Lee's kind. And Matthew's, the little voice in her head reminded him.
“Are you surprised, Lady Mary?”
“No, it's logical to be in love with Matthew, obviously; he's kind and gorgeous and smart and… so, I see your point. I just don't understand him.”
“That was quite hurtful, m'lady,” Mr Lee laughed.
“No, no, I did not mean it like that!” she excused. “I just don't see how someone like him could be…”
“I don't think it depends on what someone is like. It's not like we can pick and choose.”
“No, then you would all choose to be regular, of course,” Mary nodded. She wasn't completely obvious to everything going on in the world.
“Yes, I think most would. But I do not believe Matthew is one of them.”
“He's very stubborn,” Mary a nodded. “But that's part of his… appeal. And… he was going to get married to a woman after all, so no harm done.”
“Matthew could always charm everyone. In all kinds of ways. Usually without even noticing it.”
“You tell me, Mr Lee,” Mary sighed. “I don't know how much more obvious I could have been while keeping up to certain standards. I have contemplated just telling him a few times, but my upbringing stopped me. How did you do it?”
“Lady Mary, are you asking me for advice on how to… aren't you engaged to that journalist anyway?”
“No, he's not a journalist. He owns journals. And that's not for long anymore, I fear. Things have been quite… unpleasant with Sir Richard lately. So yes, I'm asking for your advice. You have to be good at subtlety.”
“I'm afraid I'm not in particular. It was Matthew who… approached me.”
“I'm not a nun, Mr Lee, you can be honest with me.”
“Well, Matthew was the one to kiss me in the middle of the conversation.” Alexander Lee lowered his voice. “Perhaps you should have a go at him with his own tactic.”
“I'm afraid that had already happened and he thinks a woman died because of it.”
“Oh, the melodrama!”
“Indeed. So… he really just… went for it, as they say? Quite bold.”
“Very bold, I was promptly taken aback. But I'm no idiot, Lady Mary, I know an opportunity when I see one.”
“And how did your relationship end?”
“Oh, with melodrama. As it usually does. After Matthew got a high position at the law firm, a colleague of his started bothering him. Trying to get him to quit so he could get the position. He based all this on the fact that they were roommates in Oxford and had a… thing for a few months.”
“But wouldn't that incriminate the other man too?” Mary asked. However scandalous this whole thing may be, she was horribly interested in what happened. Like some bored old lady. It has crossed her mind multiple times throughout her life that she will end up just like Violet Crawley when she gets older, but in this moment it seemed awfully clear.
“No, he had a plan on how to explain it. And he said he would also drag me into it. I have no idea how he found out about it.”
“Matthew is not good with nuance. The amount of times he angered my father by being too honest…!”
“I cannot believe that I dated the future earl of Grantham.”
“Strange things happen every day, Mr Lee,” Mary said. She also couldn’t believe that the future earl of Grantham dated a man, but that was the case, whether she believed it or not. “So, what happened then?”
“Matthew and I both agreed that it's best if we part ways. He managed to convince the other bloke not to do what he planned, be sensible, and then a year later he got a letter from Lord Grantham, and he moved north. As you know very well. Please send him my greetings when you see him.”
“Oh no, he cannot know I met you. He would be furious. I have to apologise to him for the way I behaved. Now I see it more clearly. Of course, why couldn't a man see all the good qualities in Matthew that I do as well? And why couldn't he be happy with that?”
“Exactly. You know Lady Mary, you are quite open-minded for an earl's daughter.”
“My sister married a socialist Irish chauffeur, Mr Lee. I rarely get fazed anymore.”
“This was delicious,” Cora commented on the dinner. “Carson, tell Mrs Patmore that she should make this salad more often.”
“I will, Lady Grantham,” the butler nodded proudly, as if he was the one who made it, or the one who grew the lettuce.
Soon the ladies withdrew to the salon. Mary sat down on the sofa, only half paying attention to Edith's chatter, as she was waiting for Matthew to arrive. She wanted to arrange a talk with him in private later. After twenty minutes the men arrived too.
“Matthew, could we talk over there a little?” Mary pointed to the corner by the fireplace. Matthew nodded.
“I'm sorry, I just couldn't leave poor Tom alone with your father.”
“Of course,” Mary smiled. “You’re a good friend to him, we all appreciate it.”
“Thank you. I do what I can. What did you want to talk about?”
“We should talk in private. After you'd gone home, could you wait for me at the garages? I will say I have a headache and take a walk or something… it's important that no one hears us.”
“Is it about…”
“Yes.”
“Mary. Please. I think we discussed what needs to be discussed.”
“No, I want to apologise, but… let's just meet, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I thought you wouldn't come!” Mary pulled her shawl tighter around herself. It was getting colder and colder by the minute.
“Mother started telling a story, I barely escaped.”
“I see. I want to apologise for what I said the other day. For not trying to understand, for dismissing the love, for calling it shameful, for acting like an old hag stuck in her ways. I have thought about it since and gained a new perspective. I am terribly sorry.”
“Well, I am glad you did. I accept the apology, especially because I didn't expect one.”
“You really think me this close-minded?”
“No, you are just stubborn and rarely accept when you are in the wrong.”
“But I was in the wrong this time. I really was. But don't worry. I'm over it now. I don't care. So what if you like men? Our footman does too, and the house hasn't crumbled yet.”
“Yet. Who knows what his scheming will bring?”
Mary laughed. She didn't understand why she had been worried. This was the same old Matthew he had always been, she just knew a little more about him now. And she was actually grateful for that. He trusted her with such sensitive information. You don't do that with anyone. Only people you deeply care about.
The only remaining downside was that now every time Edith unsuccessfully tried to romance a man, Mary had this urge to tell her she should try being a lesbian for a change.