Chapter Text
Season 4, Episode 1
February, 1922
It was a cold, dreary month in Yorkshire, as one would expect it to be. The soft hills surrounding Downton Abbey were rather dry and barren, coated with a frost that was heaviest in the mornings. In contrast to the solemn winter outside the Grantham estate, the inside radiated warm and bright, brought about by the joy of new life. The little heir, Master George Crawley, was about to be six months old.
His parents, Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew Crawley, played with him in the nursery until it was time to change for supper. Matthew had been right about his wife, she was blossoming as a mother. He beheld her sitting on the rug beside their son, her deep brown eyes full of love as she watched George chew on a little stuffed dog, a present from Matthew's mother, Isobel.
"He's growing up, the little chap. I can't believe he's been in our lives for already half a year," Matthew said aghast. "Before you know it, he'll be crawling and then walking around the estate like he owns it."
"Well, he does," Mary quipped, her eyes finding her husband's before cracking a smile. He was sitting in the rocking chair, and she leaned against his knee, feeling his hand smooth out her dark hair.
"It's been a busy past few months," Mary sighed. "I haven't thought of anything else other than taking care of George and rebuilding Downton."
"Neither have I," Matthew agreed.
"You've been working so hard, darling," Mary said, taking his hand. "With Papa finally on your side, you've made wonderful progress. I can't help but envy you a little when I hear you two talk. I want to help, too," she admitted.
"You have helped, Mary" Matthew insisted. "You've been my encouragement. I couldn't have done it if you weren't with me. And—" Matthew took Mary's chin gently. "You can be at any of the meetings, as I've told you before. I respect your ideas just as much as Tom's and Robert's."
Mary thanked Matthew by rising up to kiss him. She settled onto his lap, savoring their sweet yet brief moment together before Nanny West knocked at the door.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt, M'Lady, but Anna asked me to find you to change before supper," she explained.
Mary's cheeks reddened as she removed herself from Matthew. As her father's daughter, she preferred to keep her intimate moments with her husband private from the servants, except perhaps her ladies' maid, Anna.
"Thank you, Nanny West. We shouldn't be late," Mary told Matthew. Matthew stood and scooped up little George from the floor before passing him to Nanny West.
That evening at supper, the topic of primary interest amongst the family was the abrupt and inconvenient leave of Lady Grantham's ladies' maid, Ms. O'Brien. She had suddenly left Downton before dawn, like a thief in the night, to instead accompany the Marquess of Flintshire to India.
"I do find it extremely rude that Cousin Susan stole her from you," Mary murmured to her mother.
"Although she is my neice, I quite agree," the Dowager cut in with a disgruntled look. "Stealing another Lady's maid is inconsiderate and conniving. Why, it would be the same as purchasing another man's runaway slave in the American south."
Granny's remark caused an astonished laugh to rise up in Mary's throat, but she suppressed it as she and Matthew exchanged an amused glance from across the table. Of course, it was Isobel, of all people, who challenged the Dowager.
"I would question the freedom of the servants nowadays if you're comparing them to runaway slaves," she said smugly. Before Granny had the chance to conjure up a clever response, Rose cut her off.
"I'm so terribly sorry, Aunt Cora," she lamented from the far side of the table. "Mummy is a trying person. I know more than anyone of that fact."
"I can't hide that I am hurt, but now I must try to get past it," Cora sighed. "I'll have to place an advertisement in the morning."
"At least, Mrs. Patmore seemed to sense your troubles from downstairs, my dear," Lord Grantham quipped, eyeing Alfred and James entering with trays filled with dessert. "She's made your favorite." Cora's much loved cherry tart seemed to lessen the table's general disappointment.
The family soon went through to the parlor for a few drinks and to converse before bed. Matthew and Edith found themselves on the sofa beside a rather melodramatic Rose, who continued to voice her frustrations for her mother on Cora's behalf.
"I shouldn't be shocked that mummy would do such a thing, and yet I am. There must be some way I can make reparations," Rose bemoaned.
"Don't let it worry you so much, Rose. Although, now the best thing to do is help my mother find a new maid," Edith suggested.
"Perhaps, you're right. Yes, that's what I can do. I might ask Mrs. Hughes to help me. We can have it all sorted out, so Cousin Cora won't have to lift a finger," Rose resolved.
"You're quite the schemer, Rose," Matthew chuckled before sipping his glass.
"I do love giving people surprises," Rose beamed. Matthew then glanced over at his wife chatting with Tom beside the window. He knew Mary was happy, especially now with everything going so well for the two of them, but she was also exhausted. George had tired her out more than expected. Perhaps, because Mary had suddenly turned American after his birth, feeding him herself and sitting up with him at night. Matthew wanted to do something special for her.
"Rose, can I actually ask you a favor?" He said quietly, leaning forward. "Would you like to help with another surpise? A Valentine's Day surprise, that is?"
It took Rose only a few days to make the arrangements for Matthew. She rushed into the Great Hall after her final telephone call, discovering him descending the stairs for afternoon tea.
"Matthew, Matthew!" Rose beckoned him over eagerly. "I think I've got it all settled for Thursday!" she sang.
"You do? Oh, you're an angel, Rose!" Matthew exclaimed.
"Shh, I don't want Mary to overhear," Rose murmured, glancing over her shoulder. "She's having tea in the library with Cousin Cora and the children. You'll be so proud of me. I got both of the surprises settled today. Mrs. Hughes and I convinced Cousin Cora to hire a new ladies' maid. She's absolutely lovely! And I planned out everything in London for you and Mary," she boasted. "First, you'll take her to the Brighton dance hall, then to dinner at the Criterion, and finally to The Elixir of Love at the Opera house!"
"It sounds brilliant, Rose," Matthew praised. "I cannot thank you enough. Mary has hardly been able to leave Downton since—"
"Shh, I hear someone coming," Rose hissed, tugging Matthew's arm sleeve. They both turned to find Tom at the bottom of the stairs.
"What are you two whispering about?" He asked. Matthew chuckled.
"It's alright, Rose. If Tom finds out, I know he'll keep my secret," he assured her.
"I do love a good secret," Tom smiled, joining them.
"Rose has been helping me plan a surprise for Mary on Valentine's Day," Matthew disclosed. Tom's face fell at the reminder of the holiday, his eyes downcast, but he soon recovered.
"That's wonderful," he got out.
Matthew felt a tinge of guilt, struggling for a way to mend the situation. He should have known better than to boast of his plans when he knew Tom would likely be alone at the estate that day in mourning.
"I'd better join the women in the library," Rose uttered, retreating from the silent discomfort.
"Tom," Matthew broke, a thought coming to him. "You and I haven't gone out much since we've been working with the new tenants. Why don't we take a break from all the meetings and go on a bike ride around town? We can even have lunch at the pub," he proposed.
"Biking in February?" Tom gave Matthew a doubtful look.
"Oh, come now. It may be cold, but there's no snow. We'll bundle up. I think you'll enjoy yourself," Matthew encouraged.
"You don't think Mary will disapprove? It's very middle-class, you know. What will the village think?" Tom cracked.
"Well, I'm not the Earl of Grantham yet. Mary will have to wait quite some time before she can hold me to those high standards," Matthew returned with a smirk.
"Alright. I give in," Tom relented, his smile growing.
"Then, it's settled. Let's go on Wednesday," Matthew decided, patting Tom on the back before they headed toward the parlor.
In the library, Rose discovered Mary and Cora sipping the remains of their tea and watching little George and Sybbie play between the red sofas. Sybbie, now a toddler, was rolling a wooden ball to her cousin, not knowing he was far too young to roll it back. Mary stroked George's tuft of blond hair while Cora sung praises about her new maid. Rose felt quite pleased with herself upon hearing her.
"So far, I've had no complaints. I think she may turn out to be quite acceptable," Cora related to Mary.
"I'm awfully glad you think so, Cousin Cora," Rose voiced, crossing over to settle herself beside Mary.
"Me too," Cora returned with relief. "Let me ring for some more tea," she said, reaching out for the bell beside the fireplace.
"Rose, do you know where Matthew is at the moment?" Mary asked quietly.
"He's out in the hall with Tom. Why?"
"I have an idea. For Valentine's Day. You see, he's been working so hard taking care of the estate, I want him to have a proper break. I was hoping you could help," Mary explained.
"Oh. I see..." Rose trailed, searching for an excuse to get out of Mary's request without ruining Matthew's surprise plans.
"What's the matter? Do you have too much on your plate?" Mary asked, although she highly doubted that of an eighteen year old girl who wasn't even out.
"Well... what do you have in mind?" Rose wondered. Perhaps, she could somehow bring both of Mary and Matthew's surprises together.
"I want to take him bike riding," Mary proposed.
"Bike riding?" Cora asked, her eyebrows raising. "The two of you?"
"Yes. Matthew loves it, and he's always wanted to teach me. I have a good sense of balance from riding horses, so I'm sure I can get around the grounds with him. We can have luncheon in the enclosed pavilion near the pond and then return here," Mary explained brightly.
"Mary, it's a thoughtful idea, darling, but riding a bike might take more skill than you think. Besides, it's hardly an activity for a lady," Cora lectured.
"Oh, Mama. It's 1922," Mary retorted, rolling her eyes. Rose, contrary to Cora, thought that the idea was delightful. However, it would conflict with Matthew and Mary's train scheduled to leave that same morning for London. Rose had planned Matthew's Valentine's Day surprise first, so she was resolved to remain loyal to it.
"Mary... perhaps Cora is right. Would it be very suitable?" Rose questioned, earning an incredulous look from Mary.
"You can't be serious, Rose. You're the most progressive person in this family," she rebuked.
"Yes, I know, but... won't it — won't be quite cold, Mary?" Rose evaded.
"Oh, honestly. You two are a marvelous help," Mary huffed. "Well, I am doing it, and I'll plan it myself then," she concluded, setting down her teacup firmly.
The following day, Mary decided to recruit Thomas to help her gather a couple of bicycles. Matthew had left his own at his mother's place, and Mary had learned from Isobel that he also possessed the late Mr. Crawley's bike. Mary devised a plan with Isobel to pick up the bikes Wednesday morning without Matthew's knowledge. During this rare instance, Mary was grateful for her mother-in-law's middle-class mentality, for she instantly supported Mary's surprise plan unlike her other family members.
"I'd only need you for a few hours in the morning, Barrow," Mary assured Thomas. "I understand that you must be busier than usual with your under butler duties."
"I'd be pleased to help, M'Lady," Thomas assented. "I don't think it should take us too long. I'll load them into the back of the motorcar and then hide them in the shed by the servants' entrance."
"Thank you so much, Barrow. I think Mr. Crawley will be thrilled," Mary beamed.
"Before I carry on, M'Lady, I wondered if I might have a word?" Thomas then asked, growing quite sober.
"Of course. What is it?" Mary questioned, taking a step closer.
"It's about Nanny West, M'Lady. I'm afraid that she might be — neglecting her duties. That is, several times I have seen her leave the children alone. In the nursery, outside in the cold weather..." Thomas broke off, shaking his head. "I'm relating this to you solely for the safety of the children."
"What?" Mary asked in shock. "Barrow, are you saying that Master George and Miss Sybbie are in danger?" She pressed, maintaining her composure despite her stomach tightening with fear.
"I cannot say for certain, M'Lady. It is only what I have observed. I don't believe she would harm the children, but one must never be too careful," he cited. Mary swallowed, nodding.
"Thank you, Barrow. Please report to me if you see anything else that is suspicious," she ordered. Once Thomas departed, Mary decided to go upstairs to check on the children. She passed through the Great Hall and caught the quiet voice of Edith on the telephone outside the small library.
"I can't deny that I was touched by your card. More than touched, in fact," Edith blushed. Mary halted upon hearing the end of her sister's words. She remained standing there, blocked from view by one of the pillars.
"I should be able to come. Everyone knows I'll be in London anyhow. They'll be busy with their own plans... It does sound romantic..." Edith murmured. Mary raised her eyebrows. Unless Edith had quickly caught the attention of a new beau, which Mary thought highly unlikely, she was certainly speaking with nobody other than Michael Gregson.
"Alright, it's settled. I'll see you then. Goodbye," Edith said, hanging up the telephone while Mary turned to hurry on up the stairs. She caught Matthew in the hall emerging from the nursery, and they exchanged knowing looks.
"We both had the same idea," Matthew smirked, encircling an arm around his wife's waist and kissing her cheek.
"Yes, but you beat me to it. How's our little prince?" Mary asked.
"He's napping now. Nanny West rocked him to sleep. She seems very fond of him," Matthew remarked.
"How intriguing..." Mary drifted, recalling Thomas' concerns earlier.
"Why?"
"Darling, let's go to our room for a moment," Mary decided, patting Matthew's chest. "I need to talk to you about Nanny West... and also about Edith," she groaned.
It was a clear, crisp day when Matthew and Tom both emerged from the estate, dressed in their most casual day suits. For the day, they both would be free to return to a simpler way of life. Matthew still felt troubled by what Mary had related to him the night before. He had been confused by Thomas' account of Nanny West, considering how well she seemed to treat George. Mary had told Matthew that she would keep a close eye on the nursery for now. Then, there was the irksome situation with Edith. Matthew didn't appreciate that himself, and especially Robert, were getting undermined by Michael Gregson when he had promised Matthew to end things with Edith in September.
"I can't deny that my head is elsewhere today, Tom, but let's try and have fun," Matthew disclosed while they drove his car down to his mother's house in the village. They would pick up the bicycles there before riding around the streets until luncheon.
"I share your feelings. But, yes, let's forget about our troubles today," Tom agreed. "We're just two regular blokes on holiday."
"Exactly," chimed Matthew.
When they arrived at the front gate, Matthew noticed another car parked in the roadway. In fact, it was the Downton motorcar. He and Tom watched the chauffeur emerge from the driver's side and pop open the back trunk. The man then stood waiting beside it for several minutes.
"Mother didn't tell me that someone would be calling on her from the estate," Matthew muttered. "I'll go see what the fuss is about," he resolved, parking his car on the side of the street.
"I'll come with you," Tom said, and the two of them headed toward the house just as Downton's under butler, Thomas Barrow, appeared from the back courtyard. He was hauling Matthew's bicycles on either side of him. Thomas glanced up and froze when he met Matthew's gaze. He had a rather comical expression of confusion and embarrassment on his face.
"Barrow, what's going on here?" Matthew asked in bewilderment. "What are you doing with my bikes?"
"Sir, I — um, I've been asked to — to clean them," Thomas conjured.
"To clean them? By whom?" Matthew interrogated. That story seemed highly doubtful. Had Thomas Barrow been attempting to steal his bicycles? For why and what purpose, Matthew could hardly guess. How did he get a hold of them in the first place? Isobel always kept them locked away in the shed.
"Uh — by Lady Mary, sir," Thomas said, nodding.
"Lady Mary?" Matthew raised his eyebrows. "Barrow, I don't know if this is some sort of prank or — or looting operation, but please hand over my bicycles. Tom and I are planning on bike riding today anyway," he explained, placing a hand on one of the bike's handles.
"But, sir, Lady Mary had wanted—"
"I highly doubt that my wife, of all people, would want to clean my old bicycles. Don't bring her into this, Barrow," Matthew warned. "Just hand them over and we'll discuss this later."
Mary then emerged from the front door of Isobel's house, bidding her mother-in-law goodbye.
"Thank you, Isobel. Do come up for supper tonight," she said before turning to discover her husband taking the bicycles away from a sheepish Barrow. Mary hurried down the front steps toward them.
"Matthew. What are you two doing here?" Mary asked, plastering on an innocent smile. Matthew caught his wife's gaze and his brow furrowed.
"Darling, I might ask you the same question. Is what Barrow told me true? Are you planning on cleaning my bicycles?" He asked with an exasperated laugh.
"Cleaning?" Mary shot a confused look at Barrow. "Why, I — oh, well, I better explain it to you," Mary got out, deflating as she realized that her plan was doomed to be exposed now.
Matthew found it extremely humorous that Mary had attempted to smuggle his own bicycles up to Downton, but he adored her scheme to surprise him on Valentine's Day. He laughed while she scowled at him until he kissed it off of her face. During little moments like this, he couldn't help but fall even more intensely in love with her. Beneath Mary's often sober and seemingly indifferent outer shell, Matthew knew that her heart was indeed selfless and tender.
It took some time to work Mary over to postpone her planned bike outing with him until the weekend. Despite the battle, Matthew proved to be the more stubborn of the two when he convinced Mary to accept his Valentine's Day gift to take her to London. When he mentioned dancing, she at last gave in.
Matthew and Tom still needed the bikes for the day, and so Mary begrudgingly asked Barrow to hand them over.
"Go on, you two. I hope it's as romantic as I had planned our outing to be," Mary said flatly while Tom chuckled.
"Lady Mary Crawley wants to ride a bicycle. I'm still not over that new bit of information. I guess times are changing," he returned while Mary rolled her eyes. As Matthew gave her a peck on the cheek to say goodbye, Tom suddenly jumped on his bike.
"Matthew, I'll beat you to the bridge," He announced before speeding away.
"Hey!" Matthew cried, clumsily grabbing the other bike and taking off after him. Mary watched the two of them go, breaking into laughter.
Mary and Matthew prepared to retire for bed early Wednesday night so that they would be well rested for London. Robert and Tom remained in the parlor to have a few drinks, but Cora also decided to retire early, mentioning a bit of a headache. She ascended the stairs ahead of Mary and Matthew to bid goodnight to her grandchildren in the nursery. As she approached the room, Cora heard the voice of Nanny West settling the children for bed.
"There, Master George. Don't let that chauffeur's daughter bother you no more," Cora heard her scold. She peeked through the cracked door, witnessing Nanny West then turn to Sybbie in her crib, her finger pointed at the little girl's face.
"Get back to sleep, you wicked little cross breed," she hissed.
Cora, infuriated, swung the door wide open, causing Nanny West to jump.
"Your ladyship! I didn't see you there," she exclaimed, her face growing beet red.
"Evidently not. How dare you speak to my grandchild in that manner! You are to leave in the morning at once," Cora ordered, placing herself firmly between Nanny West and the children. Mary and Matthew quickly fled into the room with concern.
"Your ladyship, please, let me explain—" Nanny West began, on the verge of tears.
"There is no need. It is clear that your values have no place in our home," Cora flared.
"Mama, what's the matter?" Mary rushed over to George's crib and scooped him up. Matthew followed close behind her.
"Nanny West is not fit to take care of the children. I believe it's best for her to leave," Cora asserted, also gathering Sybbie in her arms.
"Alright. Nanny West please fetch Mrs. Hughes and go to your quarters for the night. We'll arrange your departure in the morning," Mary informed the hysterical woman.
Nanny West opened her mouth to make another excuse, but Mary's imposing glare silenced her. She nodded, her body trembling. She staggered out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Mary released an anxious breath, pressing George tightly to her bosom. Matthew rubbed her back in an attempt to calm her.
"What happened, Mama?" Mary asked.
"I'd rather not repeat it. She had said something absolutely horrid to Sybbie," Cora lamented, stroking her granddaughter's face.
"Thank goodness you came in the room in time. Barrow had warned me about her, and I should have taken his words more seriously," Mary moaned.
"He did?" Cora asked. Mary nodded.
"At least he told you," Matthew assured her. "Now, we can be rid of her."
"We owe him our thanks," Mary said, gazing down at her precious boy, fortunately oblivious to the altercation.
Mrs. Hughes agreed to watch the children until they hired a new nanny. With the help of Mary and Matthew, she coaxed the children back to sleep and resigned herself to return throughout the night to feed George.
"We can't thank you enough, Mrs. Hughes," Mary told her as the three of them left the nursery.
"Of course, M'Lady. I'm sure we can find a more suitable nurse in no time," she said with a slight smile before bidding them goodnight.
"What a saint she is. Oh — we'll have to tell Tom," Mary sighed as she and Matthew continued down the hall to their bedroom.
"Although, perhaps Mama can deal with it. She knows what Nanny West had said."
"What a horrid thing. I do feel that you and I are partially to blame for this," Matthew muttered, plopping himself onto the bed.
"I know. I agree with you... Should we cancel our trip tomorrow?" Mary asked, feeling deflated as she kicked off her shoes.
"Let's discuss it with your mother. Perhaps, with her and Mrs. Hughes here, we'll still be able to go," Matthew said hopefully.
"We could always go back to my bike riding idea," Mary nudged, her eyes glinting at Matthew in the mirror. Matthew chuckled, sliding off of the bed to approach her.
"Oh no, you're not getting out of my great plan just yet," he said, unbuttoning Mary's dress.
"Your mother is our savior," Matthew praised as he reached out a hand to help Mary out of the car. They had arrived at the Criterion after a wonderful afternoon of dancing. Mary had finally been able to return to the social world after having George, shining in her element as Matthew had spun her around the dance floor. He had tried to keep up with her when taking the lead, but she was an expert when it came to dancing.
"I know. She insisted on us leaving. I think she secretly wanted some extra time with her grandchildren," Mary said, looping her arm through Matthew's. The two appeared effortlessly elegant together as they ascended the marble steps to the double glass doors of the grand restaurant. The place was bustling on Valentine's Day, with a couple at nearly every table. Mary was impressed that Matthew had been able to secure a reservation.
"I must admit, you've been wonderfully successful today. How did you manage it all?" Mary asked.
"I wish I could say that I planned it all on my own, but it was all Rose. She was my accomplice," Matthew disclosed.
"Rose? Ah, so that's why she pretended to behave like Granny when I told her I wanted to take you bike riding," Mary realized with a smirk.
The host led to them to their seats near the grand piano, and for the night Mary and Matthew basked in the pleasure of listening to live music and admiring one another from across the table. Mary rarely felt more happy than she did when she was with Matthew. She glowed in his presence, and Matthew himself discovered his own sense of self-worth through her. They had become each other’s light out of the dark cave of war and personal tragedies.
"Oh, my darling. Is anyone as lucky as us?" Matthew murmured.
"I'm surprised that you consider us lucky. Remember when you thought we were cursed?" Mary quipped.
"Yes, and I've regretted saying that to you since. I didn't believe I could be happy then," Matthew muttered.
"Well, believe it now because I do. And no, I'm nearly certain that nobody is as lucky as us," Mary replied.
"Only nearly certain? Why not entirely certain?" Matthew asked, his eyes twinkling.
"Only because we should have been together long ago. It took us quite some time, if you recall," Mary said, cracking a smile.
"I do recall," Matthew admitted. "That is why we must indulge in every moment we have now," he told his wife, reaching to take her hand.
"I quite agree," Mary said, raising her glass to the two of them. They made a little toast and drunk to the health of each other, to their dear little son, and for more happy times to come.
As Matthew lowered his glass, his eyes then fixated on someone behind Mary. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. Their bliss was to end soon.
"What is it?"
Mary glanced over her shoulder to discover none other than her own sister, Edith, kissing Michael Gregson in front of everyone in the restaurant.