III. Romantic
He agrees not to leave them for America until after Christmas. He will depart with Sybbie on the twenty-ninth. But he still has a few weeks and goddamn, they will be memorable. He will hold the memories close to his heart. The memories of how his wife's family has come to love him as Tom. As just Tom.
His attention is drawn back to the tree that workers are carrying in. Every Christmas the last several years has been spent at Downton and he still isn't used to the size. It's quite magnificent, even without the sparkles and dangles adorning it. Sybbie and George are in his care and they cheer as they see the tree. Father Christmas will put gifts under and Tom recounts the giddiness he felt as a child in Ireland.
"It's starting to feel quite like Christmas, is it not?" he asks them.
"Yes, Papa," answers Sybbie. She is developing an English accent. Years ago it would have frustrated him, but now it only makes him think of dear Sybil. And her.
George is too awestruck to say a word as he points to the tree carried farther into the home. Tom ruffles his blond locks and he navigates the children back to the drawing room. Their chatter fills the halls and it's all quite refreshing. A moment of sadness passes through him before he banishes it.
"How is everything coming along?" Edith has appeared with Marigold.
"Well enough I think. Though we will have to wait for your mother and Mary's approval."
"Ah yes. Has she inserted herself in this business as well?" The slight bitterness has not escaped Tom's notice. He wonders how the two will act when he, the last buffer, is gone.
"She has taken it upon herself to oversee some preparations," he concedes.
Edith nods. "Well no matter what, it is sure to be a marvelous Christmas. It must be, if we are to lose you."
"It isn't goodbye, Edith."
She sends a quick look his way, before facing forward. He is reminded of the day of Sybil's funeral and her hesitancy. "Of course," is all she says.
They go their separate ways and Tom is determined not to let Edith's talk settle badly in his stomach. She meant no harm, of that he is sure. However, every word spoken in such finality floods him with sadness and guilt. He's mulled over it thousands of times though and the decision to leave remains clear. Tom never thought of himself as a runner, growing up.
But he ran from Ireland after foolish decisions.
He's running from Downton because of something he certainly did not decide.
/
They have a nice moment in the nursery and Tom enjoys the feeling of Mary's gloved hand in his more than he cares to admit.
They pull away and he realizes they are everything he ever wanted in sister-in-laws. They bicker and their flaws are on display. But they love each other and him. It is not a concept; it is a fact. Mary sashays down the stairs and Tom draws his gaze upwards to the Lord.
/
George giggles with glee at the gift Tom has presented him. The wrapping paper is all around as he clutches the toy car to his chest. It is the newest to add to his collection of smaller cars and trains.
"Thank you." His soft voice echoes as Tom pulls him closer.
The children finish marveling over their new treasures and the adults join together for a nice meal. Mary grasps his hand. "You're too kind to George."
"Impossible."
Her lips turn up and he's caught off guard as she kisses his cheek. There is a gloom in her eyes, but it's hidden as she drags him to the table in a quite un-Lady Mary like way.
He will remember this moment. He does not want to believe it is the last Christmas he will ever spend at this table. Violet and Isobel have joined them and their conversation is nothing but light. He can picture a tall, blond gentleman across from him. He leans in, always jovial. His head tilts, a playful grin on his face as he addresses everyone. His eyes flicker to Tom's and they share a look reserved for brother-in-laws who understand what marrying into the Crawley family is like.
The image starts to hurt and Tom's eyes flicker to another spot. Her hair is growing out again and her husky voice fills the air. She teases every member at the table and makes faces at the children, who are allowed in the presence of the adults on this morning. Her blue eyes meet his and he feels a flush coming on. She says nothing but jerks her head to the left. His focus shifts and lands on Mary. She has an amused look on her face as her mother speaks. He shifts his gaze back but she is gone. She is gone, but Mary is still present.
His silverware clatters and Isobel sends him a look. He can't handle these memories and the sorrow in the air. He knows the blame for his departure is misplaced, but fuck it. He's going. He will go.
/
"I will hold you back by force," she whispers.
He turns to Mary, brows raised in surprise. "Would you truly?"
"If it would stop you from leaving us."
It would, he thinks. He lets out a laugh that sounds harsher than intended. "It would not. Sorry, Mary."
They both stare ahead as she grasps his hand. A shiver runs down his spine as the pad of his thumb rubs against her smooth skin.
"Then I suppose this is farewell."
"You aren't coming down?"
Mary shakes her head. "No, I shall entertain George. Besides, there will be plenty saying goodbye outside. I can say more now. And I've already talked with Sybbie."
"You know I can never thank you enough for being such a mother to her."
"It was what should have been done, it's nothing to be thanked for."
"I used to hate you," Tom says.
"I know."
He summons up the courage he requires. "And now I love you. You are Mary, my friend. My sister-in-law. My family. You're Mary, and you're filled with good."
They are both trembling when he finishes and she collapses into his arms. Her nails dig into his shoulders and she lets out a few sobs before they are under control. He rubs the small of her back and the heat spreads throughout his body. This is it.
This is it.
/
Many people describe America differently. Violet Crawley's nose would wrinkle up and she would shake her head in dismissal of the country and its people. However, Cora's eyes would light up and she would explain how there was an easiness about America that England could never have.
He sees some of the easiness and delight in some citizens. They shuffle by, blusterous laughter filling the streets. Some of the richer young women dress much like Rose, the last time he saw her. Sybbie admires the different accents, trees, and food. Her English voice comes off as pleasant to many people, a contrast to his Irish lilt.
After several weeks, he still has trouble calling their place home. There is a bias against him and it turns out the English are not the only masters of turning up noses. Perhaps part of it is that Tom is almost looking for faults in the country everywhere. He is looking for reasons to dislike it so he can venture back to Downton. Back to her.
"Are you miserable here, Sybbie?" he asks one evening.
She shakes her head, crayon in hand as she draws the newest creature she's seen. Sighing, he turns his attention back to the newspaper slamming immigrants. It is his decision, what to do.
/
They rush to the house only to find everyone is gathered in town for Mr. Carson and Ms. Hughes' wedding. He pulls a giggling Sybbie along and they make it there just in time for the end of the speech. His heart warms as he spots the couple. After everything, all the chaos and tears over the years, these people deserve the happy ending.
"To the bride and groom," he says.
The back of Mary's head no longer faces him as her brown eyes meet his. Dear Lord, to be under her gaze again is serendipity. The rest of the family follow her eyes and gasp in delight at their arrival.
Sybbie squeals, "Georgie!"
He lets her down as they approach.
"What are you doing here?"
"You're back, oh Tom."
"What a surprise this is."
They bombard him with hugs and questions. Sybbie and George hug. Marigold offers Sybbie a shy smile. Cora is close to tears as she grasps his hands. They hope he is here to stay. He glances at each of them. The people he used to despise. The people that looked down at him, and him at them. He loves them.
"Yes," Tom says. Cora lets a few tears slip. Mary's lips part and her hands wobble as she pulls his hands out of her mother's grip and into hers. She says nothing, but allows him to see into the depths of her eyes. He is home.
/
They fall into a similar pace that Tom does not altogether hate. She walks in step beside him, her cheeks a familiar shade in chillier weather.
They are back to what they know.
And then Henry Talbot reenters their lives. He speaks of automobiles and a faster lifestyle, one of which Tom can appreciate. Mary seems reluctant to allow the man join them for activities.
"Is it because of Matthew?" he asks one night. It's just them and some scotch.
"I will love Matthew till my dying breath. However, it is not that."
"Then what?"
Her eyes will not meet his. "It is nothing. I did not think you came back just to worry about me, Tom."
His breathing falters and he stumbles over what to say next.
/
There is a car accident and guilt pours through Tom as Mary becomes more distraught. She's gasping and her eyes are a bit wider as they discover Henry's friend, Charlie, is dead.
She sags and backs away. Farther and farther from them all.
When he next sees her, the detached façade from years ago is present. She says a polite hello. She refuses to talk of anything Henry Talbot related. Her eyes stare straight as different people try engaging her.
Then, Henry calls. He is beside himself at the loss of his friend and possible loss of Mary. Tom's knuckles are white as he clutches the phone. Mary cannot give up on them.
After trying to refuse the telephone, Mary agrees. Her eyebrows furrow as she begins to listen to Henry. Tom decides to check back in a moment. Stepping back, his heart allows a spark of hope to soar through him. He does not want to think about the reasons as to why.
/
Bertie has joined them at Downton. Tom offers Edith a comforting smile, also meant as an apology for being too caught up in Mary's situation.
"It's good to have you here," he says to Bertie as they shake hands.
Edith's smile is wider than he has ever seen as she leads Bertie Pelham around. It all seems to be falling into place for her. Tom only wishes the same for her older sister.
Mary is still brooding though and her snarky mask is back as she greets Bertie with a slight tilt of her head.
Mary is Mary and he likes to think, at this point, he knows her quite well. He never expected her to out Edith's secret about Marigold. How did Mary even learn of the secret?
Her eyes are filled with hatred and a bit of glee as she watches Edith fumble for words as Bertie pulls away. Tom's mouth opens to find unknown words as he watches the couple crumble. Bertie acknowledges neither of them as he leaves. Edith's mouth is parted as she stares at Mary, before storming out to find him.
Mary turns back around, reaching for her glass. He clears his throat and her eyes flicker to his. He expects her to tell him something, anything. Why did she do that? What is wrong? Her eyes are cold and empty as she raises an eyebrow, daring him to speak.
He feels his lips tremble as he breaks her gaze.
Later, he decides to corner her at their office. Tom knows what Mary is doing. He has seen her do it for years, long before they were each other's confidantes. She pulls away, isolates herself and tears everyone down in the process. Edith, is her favorite, usual prey. They have always had trouble seeing eye-to-eye, but the drama is at another level. He recalls a conversation with Matthew about Mary's inability to admit her pride gets the best of her. Her inability to expose her deepest feelings to others. However, both men realized that was not the case. They both received the greatest gift of all from Mary; her secrets, her raw, vulnerable moments. She opened up to Matthew. Over time, she opened up to Tom as well.
Perhaps that was part of why he felt anger running through him. She had not confided to him that she knew the truth about Marigold. Mary had filed it away and when Edith found a love as great as hers and Matthew's, she broke. He cannot understand why when Henry is ready to give everything to her. What else would she desire?
They are in two different worlds, like years ago, and it hurts. It frustrates him. And dammit, he will fix this all. Mary is flipping through papers when he enters. She looks as indifferent, vein, and beautiful as she did when he first introduced himself. My, how long they have known each other. How long they have debated, spoken, and confided. She was at his wedding. He was the third to hold George, after her husband and father. Robert had an ulcer and they were there, together, pacing and comforting. How long they have known each other and she fucking springs this on her sister and him.
He's talking before his brain can catch up. She stares at him with a pained look.
"Don't lie. Not to me," he says.
Her mask drops as she lets out a ragged breath. They stare at each other and he wonders if she plans on saying anything. "I'm so sorry."
Tom shakes his head. "It's Edith who deserves the apology."
"No, you deserve one as well. I have lied to you. I need to rectify that."
He feels his heart sink. A number of things filter through his mind as she stares at him. Her eyes are the closest to chocolate he has ever seen. She brushes a hair out of her face and glances away.
"Go on," he whispers.
"I have only ever been in love with two men. One, a man I could not stand to breathe the same air as. A man I was convinced was uncivilized, unfit for this household. A man trying to win my heart and not because he was the future earl." A small laugh escapes her. "The first person to ever make me feel so whole and pure. Matthew was my existence."
He feels tears threatening to escape. She understands. He thinks of Sybil and he lets out his own shaky breath. He stares at Mary who is trying her best to look unaffected. "And then?"
"I was so sure I would never know love again. But then, then I found it."
His heart shatters a bit. She loves Henry. The entire family has waited for her to reach this conclusion. Henry's gone though and he still sees it as no excuse for letting Edith's secret out. He can't quite picture them together because his heart won't allow it. Nodding, Tom adds, "You found it in Henry."
She has been staring at a wall away from them, but her head now whips around. He is not sure what he expects, but it is not for her to wrinkle her nose in distaste like her grandmother. "Certainly not, contrary to popular belief. As I've said before, Henry and I are better off apart. I see him as a friend, a kind gentleman. I'm sorry if none of you can understand that, but you must because my decision over him is quite final."
"Then I'm afraid I do not know where this conversation is going."
Is there another man? His heart hurts at the implication. It is impossible for him to fathom Mary keeping such an important detail secret from him. Him, whom she tells everything. Her eyes slide back to the wall.
"I found love again; I will no longer deny that. I found it with a man I could not stand to breathe the same air as. A man I was convinced was uncivilized, unfit for this household. A man who never tried to win my affection, despite the countless others who did. A man who is as invested in Downton's future as I am." Her gaze falls back on him. He is shocked by the hesitancy in her movements. A small smile plays on her trembling lips as she says, "My darling, you have made me feel whole and pure again."
Tom is sure they are both crying as he lets her words wash over him. She loves him. Lady Mary Crawley loves him. Every fantasy he has not allowed himself to dwell on now surfaces. She's shaking as he pulls her to him.
"Mary. Dear God, Mary," he says.
It does not matter who makes the move, as their lips crush together. He wants to run his hands through her hair so he pushes her hat off. One hand trails to cup her cheek. For months he has wondered how smooth her cheeks truly are. Her nails dig into his arms and he lets out a grunt.
Air becomes necessary and they pull away. She is the most flushed he as ever seen her. Pieces of her hair stick out and she scowls as she begins patting them down.
"I love you," he says gravely.
Her eyes brighten as she comes closer. "I love you."
/
The reactions from her family vary. Robert is blown back several years and is quite grumpy till Cora convinces him otherwise. Edith's lips turn down when his hand settles on Mary's waist; it's quite scandalous. Isobel comes up to him, a blank look on her face. He has not admitted it, but Tom wants her approval.
"I knew it," says Isobel. She then proceeds to pull them into a hug.
"So this is really happening?" asks Robert.
Cora sends him a look and Violet snorts. Cora replies, "Do you not want your eldest daughter to be happy?"
"Of course," Robert says. His focus goes back to Mary and Tom. Tom wonders if this will be the moment when his father-in-law finally lands one. The thought has crossed his mind from the moment Sybil yanked him through the front door. "There are no two people more deserved of love."
Tom smiles and Mary crosses the room to wrap her arms around her father. They are family. They are his family.
/
He visits their graves. He stops at Sybil's first. His fingers scrape against the stone, dragging against the top. His love.
"Sybil, love, what do I even say? You will always be my wife. Sybbie will always be yours. However, I imagine you're laughing from above. You were always telling me how much goodness Mary had in her and now I believe you. I see it. You wanted me to see it and I have. Oh darling, I will always have with me the way you wanted me to see the world. I love you, Sybil."
He stays there a while longer before moving to the larger headstone. It seems bigger than Matthew would have liked.
"I will take care of her. I will make sure George knows what a great man you were. I will."
/
The wedding is all quite a blur, if he's honest. He remembers Bertie, his best man, calming his nerves. He remembers marveling at the length of Mary's veil. He remembers sliding the ring onto her slim finger. Those are the moments he can picture with accuracy.
After that, nothing. That is, until it is just them stumbling towards the bed, happy with champagne settling in their stomachs.
Mary is immediate as she tugs at his clothes. Their clothes land in a pile close to the door and he takes in her body that seems to glow.
"You're beautiful."
"As are you, darling. Now please, don't make me beg."
He lets out a laugh. They fall onto the soft sheets and he enters her quickly. They have plenty of time for foreplay later. Her back arches up and he pulls her lips to his. He loves her. He loves her. He loves her. He lets her know.
/
"We have some exciting news, children."
"What is it Papa?" asks Sybbie.
"You are going to have a little brother or sister."
Sybbie and George's eyebrows furrow as they survey the room. Mary stifles a laugh as the children's frowns deepens.
"Where?"
"Well, in Mama's belly."
Sybbie points to Mary's round stomach, inspecting it. "In Mama's belly?"
"Yes, dear. They won't be here for a while though. Are you and George excited?" asks Mary.
The children consider it, lips pursed. "Yes!"
"Good because your father and I are very excited."
Mary's hands press against her stomach and she sends a comforting glance his way. They have both discussed the worries over the pregnancy. Mary was fine the first time though; Tom reminds himself always. There is no going back though and he wants this child. A small being that is part him, part Mary. The thought is inconceivable only a year ago. He would not even want to dream it when he was the younger, former chauffeur.
He helps her rise to her feet as they leave the children to go back to playing in the nursery. She shuffles along, taking a breath in preparation for the stairs. She is quite large, not that he would ever tell her.
"I'm quite content with our life, Mary," he says.
She continues her slower pace down the hall, sending him a slide glance. "I am happy to hear it."
"Mary?"
"Yes, darling?"
"They would want us to be happy."
She stops now, her attention diverted from the stairs to him. Her hand trails from his forearm to pull his larger hand into hers. Her eyes never leave his. "Always."
He takes a step forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. Mary smiles as heads down, one step at a time. The chatter is loud. They are expecting Edith, Marigold, and Bertie to arrive from Brancaster later on. Mary is particularly on edge. It is no surprise, considering its Edith's family arriving. Her last letter however hinted she was pregnant.
They need a good distraction. Distraction from waiting, yes. However, Tom and Robert have been looking over the finances too. A distraction from that is most welcoming for Tom.
He clutches Mary's hand as they head to the drawing room. Her hair is getting longer. It now reaches past the nape of her neck. She rolls her eyes as she hears Cora going on about Edith's arrival.
"Play nice," Tom whispers.
"And what will I receive in reward?" she purrs.
Yes, he loves distractions.
/
Her wails carry throughout the house. He sits in the library with Robert. Violet has gone home because the day is almost over. Isobel and Cora remain upstairs.
He hears her let out another cry and he clutches his drink. Robert had tried to read. However, his book lays on the couch forgotten as he joins Tom in pacing.
Another cry and Tom feels his legs waiver. The glass shatters and Robert is shouting. His eyes start rolling back.
"Tom?"
He is laying on the couch and scrambles to get up. "What happened? How is Mary?"
"You fainted," says Isobel. "As for Mary, she is waiting to introduce you to someone."
He pushes through the door to find Mary sitting up in bed, baby cradled to her chest. Her eyes flutter opened when she sees him. She is beautiful. "Come, Tom. I would like you to meet your son."
His eyes grow as he sits on the edge of the bed. "He is beautiful. He has your eyes."
"I did say you could name him. But I won't have any nicknames."
Nodding, he reaches out to brush his fingers over the infant's head. "Hello, Albert Matthew."
His eyes raise to Mary's and tears fall. She shakes his head before he can speak and kisses his palm. She is fine.
He is hesitant to leave them. His feet are rooted to the ground as he watches her yawn and Anna comes back to take the baby.
His eyes water when they tell him he must leave, change for the night and get rest. He loves her. He loves her. He loves her. He tells them all as he is ushered out.
It seems as if in no time she is back on her feet, demanding for things to progress. Their financials are in a state they would all rather not have them in. She cradles Albert against hip as Robert goes through plans, pulling papers out. He spreads them out and begins to point. Mary takes a moment to send him a look. Her lips are in a line, but her eyes glisten as she stares at him.
They start going over various plans and situations, Robert running a hand down his face. "Shall I bring Cora in to join the discussion?"
"Yes, get Mama."
Robert nods, an optimistic look still on his face. He parts with a quick squeeze to each of their shoulders. Mary takes a moment to entertain Albert. His son giggles and reaches for his mother.
"You and the children are all I need," he says.
She is nothing and then she is something. She is everything.
Wow that took forever to finish! I have spent the last three hours at this computer going over it and wrote another 1k words. I'm not sure I like how it ended, but I've already scrapped it several times. As you know, this is the last chapter. I'm ending it here. This was meant to be a three-shot. I'll leave their futures up to you. You make up your mind about the road Downton is headed down and if it can survive. I wanted to come full circle and I did that to the best of my abilities I think. Hope you liked. It's very emotion packed vs sexual, which took me back to TLA again.
I was listening to music while writing this. I've decided to share the songs because, in my opinion, they complement the chapter. The songs:
Such Good Luck – Downton Abbey
Who I'd Be – Shrek the Musical (Original Broadway Cast recording)
Sonya Alone – Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812
Courage and Kindness – Cinderella (Original Motion Picture)
And some bonus:
When Words Fail – Shrek the Musical (Original Broadway Cast recording)
No One Else – Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812
Let me know if you listened to any of the songs or already liked them. I don't know what else to say except thank you so much for reading. Please review!
Tumblr: mrsmarybranson