5th June, 1927

Mary, Tom, and Matthew joined Evelyn to watch Henry Talbot test run his new car, along with a few members of his racing team. It was on a vacant road, far but not too far from civilization. They watched on the shoulder.

As Henry approached her, she recognised him as one of the shooters from the Grouse hunt from three years ago. But they had never spoken. And she felt ashamed that she immediately recognised him and hadn't Mrs. Harding. Well, with Mrs. Harding it had been over ten years since she had last laid eyes on her. People can look different in that amount of time. Some took sooner than others.

"They didn't say that the nephew was you."

"Is that what I'm referred to as just the nephew?"

She asked him, "How can you stand that noise?"

"You get used to it. I don't think poor Evelyn ever will." They both nearly laughed at the sight on him, hands still covering his ears. His voice was still raised, seconds after the other test drives stopped their engines.

"How is it that you know Evelyn?" She asked, curious.

"He's a family friend."

"It IS a small world we live in."

"Who says that?"

"Evelyn, apparently."

"He says today is your anniversary. I can imagine it's not how you expected to celebrate."

"We celebrated it early." She puts a hand on her stomach.

"Congratulations." He gave a chuckle to conceal his nervousness. It was not a topic most unmarried men were comfortable talking about. "Evelyn didn't mention that he was..."

"In a wheelchair? "

"Coming."

Mary didn't want to be quick to appologise for her assumption. She didn't know him. She had expected that she'd know how Tony would be as an adult. Look how that had turned out. She had come up with telling him that there had been too much time to really know each other on the spot, to put him off.

"It doesn't put you off?"

"No!" He was immediately appalled and sympathetic for the things she must have gone through, putting up with people who treated them differently. He understood. "I have a friend who's in a wheelchair, Charlie Rogers. He used to race along side me. He injured his back in a racing accident."

"And that doesn't put you off them?"

"Far from it. You'd think I would see cars as my enemy but I think of them as my friend. He has a wife. Charlotte. We call her Chuck."

"How very interesting."

"Maybe you could join us for dinner sometime."

"Maybe. We'll have to see." She took a few side steps to distance herself, so that she wasn't standing too close to him. She didn't want to give him the wrong impression. She didn't want another Tony fiasco. Why did men think they could hit on her just because Matthew was in a wheelchair?

He noticed that she was walling herself off. She thinks I'm trying to come on to her. He had a lot of friends who were female and he preferred it that way, whom most of which had crushes on him and he tried to avoid. He was able to ward off their advances. He had poured more blood, sweat and tears into cars than he had into any relationship. Cars didn't hurt you, unless you were being reckless with them. He had seen many of his friends hurt by getting involved with high society women. He could sense that she was different somehow. He believed that men and women could be friends without temptation of romantic involvement. He would have to show her sometime. But of course he wouldn't tell her all that. They had only just met. Neither did it seem fair to lay it all on her at one, when she was obviously dealing with something. Matthew had been in a wheelchair for ten years but that didn't mean it would get any easier, with other people's negative views. "You're a bit stand offish, aren't you?"

"Am I? Sorry. I recently had the misfortune of a childhood friend trying to hit on me. With my husband within the same vicinity."

"That tenacious prick." He muttered under his breath.

"You certainty have a mouth on you. You'd fit right in with Tom." She turned her attention toward her brother in-law who was examining Henry's car, Matthew trying to pretend he was interested.

"I'm not all that interested in the mechanics." Matthew said as they entered their bedroom, wheeling himself in behind her. "But I would have loved to test run one of them myself."

"I bet you would!" She smiled, unclasping her necklace and setting it on the vanity. His present mood as of late had been enlightening and welcoming. None of those dark thoughts had returned, the nightmares or episodes. It was as if they were back to how things were before, that none of it had ever happened. Finally it was as if her prayers had been answered. "But secretly, I'm glad that you're unable to. It doesn't pay to be reckless." She sat down to take off her earrings.

"But where's the fun in that?" He asked it in a way that was reminiscent of a child asking why he couldn't have a second round of biscuits. "If you can't be reckless sometimes?" He could see that she was scowling from her reflection in the mirror. "I only jest. You can thank the third Earl for that. I am a Crawley after all."

"I'm not sure that would be something to boast about." The third Earl paled in comparison to Matthew's character. He had been often unfaithful to his wife, a behavior some great families still participated in. She wouldn't be surprised if there were Crawley's in existence that were born on the wrong side of the sheets. But it was never discussed or brought into question. Someone had buried it well.

"With trained precision like Henry has..."

"Speaking of Henry, he wants to invite us to dinner with one of his race car friends and his wife. Well he doesn't race anymore. He injured his back. I think it happened rather recently."

"I see."

"I think it would be a good idea, to get to know another couple who know what we've been through. Maybe even give them some encouragement. It would help as well."

"Yes, I think it would!" He was looking forward to it. He could help someone else and get to know someone else, a couple like him and Mary and provide some insight. It wouldn't make up for some of the things he'd done, but it would be a way of giving back. If he was back in his shoes, he wished there would be someone there to help, not just support from loved ones but someone who was going through, had been going through the same thing.

"And you're always saying that we should get out more." The light in the room had dimmed from the changing position of the sun. She should adjust the curtains to brighten the room.

"Evelyn and Tom as well?"

"Just us."

"You know, I think he and Tony would get on." Mary froze at his name, as she went over to the window. He hadn't seen it. He was deep in thought and she was turned away from him. "Maybe we should ask him to come along next time, introduce them. We haven't seen him in a while. I suppose married life is keeping him busy."

Ha! That's a complete joke. She tried to put humour into the situation but it brought back the awfulness of it, the feelings she had felt that night.

He saw all colour drain from her face.

"What is it?" He wheeled over to her as she went to sit down on the bed, slowly sinking down onto it.

"You know when you think you may know someone but it turns out you don't really know them at all?"

"Yes." Her eyes were already watering. He wanted to take her into his arms, without an answer, comfort her. But he had a sense that she needed to tell him. He wanted to take away whatever was agonising his beloved. He wanted to somehow make it go away, make it right. Tell me what I can do. He got out of his chair and sat beside her. It was about damn time anyway. He'd been sitting in it nearly all day.

She told him what happened.

"Well, I say good riddance."

It couldn't be over, just like that, him just accepting it, without all the facts. She could neglect to tell him the rest, but the basis of marriage was honesty and trust, and communication. It would do no favors keeping him in the dark. It would weigh on her conscience just as sure as he had never told her about the secret part of him, the man he'd been while fighting in battle.

"He asked if the children were yours. You believe that..."

She was horrified and guilty. He read it there. There was no reason for her to feel that. She shouldn't. "Of course I believe it. My darling, what would ever make you think that? I don't doubt..."

"Could you not say that word? He used it a lot." She said it angrily, slamming her fist down against the box spring, but he knew her true emotions.

"I would never believe that you'd be unfaithful." He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head.

"But you..." He took out his handkerchief, handing it to her. She just balled it up into her fist. "You said once, after our honeymoon, that you wouldn't fault me if I were to..."seek my attentions elsewhere", as you put it." Could he really blindly accept that she couldn't have acted on it, even after she said that she would never? She asked herself.

"Darling, I was depressed. I wasn't myself." There was still a slight decisiveness, a indecision in her. He knows there must be a million thoughts going through her head. She would always give herself a mental beating, even if the truth eliminated her fault. He was the same. He had to remind her. "Didn't you know? You ought not to pay attention to the things I say."

"hmm, stiff upper lip."

"Yours look gorgeous to me right about now." He put his arms around her again and they fell back against the mattress.

He joined her in the nursery the next morning, after their breakfast in bed. The children already had the room a mess with their toys. George, as always, cleared a path for him, but he was more gentler and mindful about it this time. Matthew sat down in the lounge chair with his feet up on the footstool.

Katie had strangely developed a tickling phase.

"At least she isn't going through a hair pulling or biting phase." Mary said to her husband. None of them had. They both watched Katie with her little performance, crawling on the floor, following Andy around. He rolled over, going into a giggling fit as she tickled his tummy. Then she turned her focus on following George.

"You're not going to tickle me." He said, trying to get away.

She came to a stop next to her father. She sat down on the floor beside him, beside the footstool. His feet dangling over it, she saw the opportunity. She had not tried it on her papa. She grabbed his foot and ran her fingers against it. She tried to show little brother Andy how to do it.

"Daddy's feet don't tickle." She discovered. She gave up her efforts, sounding a bit disappointed.

"No. They don't." Matthew smiled. He didn't have the need to say that it was because he couldn't feel it. He didn't care. His feet had never been ticklish, even before. All that matter was that he could feel their love.

Andy then took hold of his father's foot and chomped down on it. Maybe she spoke too soon. Matthew didn't even jump, as one would expect. Mary's first instinct was to run over, shouting, "No, we do not bite Papa's foot."

It startled the one year old. His eyes wide with surprise, started to bawl.

"Really, Mama? Did you need to make him cry?" Josephine asked, giving attitude.

"Just take your brother. Entertain him for a moment while I check Papa's foot."

His older sister took her younger brother's hand. "C'mon, And. Let's go find Tene."

"It's alright. No need to shout at them, darling. I think he may be cutting more teeth."

"That might be so but we'll need to break him of it before it becomes a habit." She said, checking his foot over.

"See, it didn't even break the skin."

"Still, we'll need to be careful."

"I know. I know." He smiled, laughing to himself. "You're always telling me."

Mary had been up in arms against going to the dinner. He asked her the precise thing about it.

"Why are you being so up in arms about it?" He had talked to Henry on the phone, just on a get to know bases. He had told him that he had already given the time and the name of the restaurant to Mary. He did seem like a nice chap. He would have to heed the same advice that he had given Tom. Or perhaps, maybe it wouldn't hurt. It wasn't like there was going to be a war again anytime soon. He should try to patch things up with his brother in-law first.

"Henry made reservations at the Criterion." Mary said.

"We shouldn't let one bad memory of a place spoil the fun." Was Matthew's response.

And so it was decided that they would accompany Henry, with his friend Charlie and his wife, Charlotte or 'Chuck" as she was affectionately called and actually preferred it. Some preferred to call her by her given name. It highly agitated her.

"As if there's a rule that women have to have a feminine sounding name."

"Our daughter likes to be called Jo."

Chuck approved. Mary already liked her and saw that it would be quite easy for them to become friends. She never had a female friend to confide in before. Sybil had been her only female confidant.

Her new friend asked about how she and Matthew had met and what it was like to live in a big house like Downton.

"How did you meet your husband? I heard you live in one of those great houses, in Yorkshire? I've always been fascinated by that way of life."

Mary tried to make it short and to the point as possible. "I was engaged to be married to someone else that was to be heir. He died in the sinking of the Titanic. Well, we thought he died. He was presumed dead till Matthew came across him in the war, that's how he actually died. Papa had to find a new heir when we thought Patrick was dead from the sinking. Then he found Matthew. We were almost engaged before he went off to war. He didn't actually propose till 1916." She made a slight lie but she didn't need to know that. "The following year, he injured his back. He was fully paralyzed for a while. He was misdiagnosed until the swelling went down. He was able to regain some sensation and mobility back."

"You must have been so relieved."

Mary helped herself to another serving. "As for living in a great house, I supposed it's as comfy as one can get. So, what's your story?"

Chuck was instantly taken aback but she quickly recovered when Mary rephrased her question, "How did you meet yours?"

"Charlie and I grew up together."

At least that's one childhood friendship that turned out.

"We both call each other 'the two Charlies" sometimes. It caused quite the ruckus at family reunions."

"Our butler preformed a show in Vaudeville called "The Two Charlies" before he went into service."

"What a coincidence!" Chuck put more salad on her plate without looking. Some of it not making it to her plate. She probably wasn't going to eat it anyway. "Though I don't think I ever heard of it."

"What it is that you do for a living? Matthew's a solicitor. And I help manage the estate. I'm the head agent."

"How very exciting! Though I'm afraid mines not as fascinating as yours. I'm still working as a secretary. Before that I was a nurse, during the war. Henry was an ambulance driver. That's how we met. Charlie wouldn't have met him if it weren't for me." There was still a bit of resentment behind her voice, evident that she was trying to hide it. "Anyway, I think we are the ones that are truly lucky."

"Oh?"

"We have the most desirable men in the room."

"Don't we!" Mary was thrilled at such a response. It was so true. She felt her love for Matthew flowing through her very soul. She sent it to their child.

Matthew was sitting next to Charlie, head inclined, listening intently as he spoke.

"I hurt my back numerous times. My doctor told me to give up racing. That if I didn't give it up, I would end up paralyzed. Maybe I should have listened."

"Don't feel guilty. That'll make you your own worst enemy."

Hearing those words being spoken, Mary beamed at him from across the table, their eyes catching. Something in them had lifted as he had said it, as if he was realising it himself for the first time. They were no longer haunted or filled with quilt or remorse or self loathing with himself. He was finally at peace.

AN: First off I would like to thank my reviewers and KnightSage2021 for being my muse, and helping collaborate with this chapter, without, this chapter wouldn't have been possible. I might end the story here as it would be a good note to end on. But I know some of you would want to see the birth of Caroline "Carrie" and the rest of the Crawley family's story continue. Thanks to all of you, Mary and Matthew's story that they deserved, will for ever be imortalised.