Too Much Physical Affection?

Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.

"… And her engine works perfectly," Henry said, his face practically exploding with excitement as he spoke about his race car.

Mary rolled her eyes, wondering why he'd come to Aunt Rosamund's to see her if he planned on speaking about his car the entire time. Didn't he know how boring she found it? Still, she appreciated his passion. He knew what he liked, and he wasn't afraid to show it. Besides, the more he discussed cars the more Mary realized she needed to overcome her fear of crashes. He certainly was handsome as well, tall with nice dark hair that suited him well.

"She absolutely purrs when I start her up." Mary sighed, wondering how anyone could compare a motor car to a cat. As she pondered, his face turned from excitement to confusion. His large eyes stared into the distance and his mouth changed from smile to a thin line and back to a smile again. "I've heard about it, but I thought they might be putting on a show," he said, finally.

Mary was quite confused herself. She'd been quite proud of her ability to understand Henry, even though he insisted on speaking of cars. But this comment was difficult, especially with Henry's own reaction. Mary refused to admit he had stumped her, though. "I see," she said, nodding as if she understood. She took a sip of tea, knowing it made her appear more causal.

"You must realize how unlikely it is for it to be real," Henry said, his mouth continuing to switch from a smile to a thin line. Mary's own smile spread, glad that her ruse worked; he believed she knew what he meant. "I mean, she isn't English, is she?" asked Henry.

She was beginning to think Henry was no longer speaking about cars at all. Speaking to him could certainly be challenging, and that filled her with energy. She felt as if she could talk to him all night, especially with those gorgeous blue eyes.

Then Mary followed Henry's eyes and she suddenly realized what, or whom he was speaking. Her parents. Despite the dim light in the room, she could see them clearly. They were both sitting on Rosamund's settee, talking softly to each other. Mama kept stroking his arm and glancing at the side where his ulcer had been. Papa shook his head and kissed Mama's fingers.

Mary rolled her eyes again. "No," she said, deliberately looking away from them and sighing. "She's American." The word came out slower than she would have liked; her mother's nationality was a sore spot for her.

"So, I'm certain you know how those relationships usually go," Henry's said, his words bouncing against her ear as if nothing was wrong.

"I might," Mary said, turning her eyes back to Henry's, but refusing to admit she knew what he meant. Instead, she wanted to test him. How much did he truly know about her world?

"Yes," Henry nodded, apparently taking her answer to mean she knew exactly what he spoke. Mary felt simultaneously frustrated and pleased. She wished he would prove to her how much he understood, but she appreciated his confidence in her. "So, I thought maybe their reputation was just a show to cause people to believe they got along better than they did."

"What reputation?" Mary asked with a straight face, still wishing to test him. Of course, she knew exactly what reputation her parents had. Even though it was considered inappropriate to gossip about them in front of their family, Mary had heard some of it before. Lord and Lady Grantham were far too affectionate, everyone said. They held hands and caressed each other in public. They'd even been known to kiss in the open in the past. She still remembered the way they'd kissed in front of the entire Downton Village the day Papa had returned from America. And that didn't even mention how many times she or her siblings had caught them kissing in the library when they thought no one was around.

Henry sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be speaking about your parents this way; it's impertinent." He took a sip of his own drink, probably trying to be causal himself.

"No, you shouldn't," Mary said. But could he be stalling? She wondered. So far, he hadn't past her test. "But seriously, tell me."

Henry glanced at her parents again, just in time to see Papa stroke Mama's cheek, which was another one of his favorite actions that he should not do in public. Even if this was just Rosamund's house. "Your parent's have a reputation in the aristocracy for being extremely physically affectionate in public," he said, finally. "I am sorry, but it raises some eyebrows." He dared to look into her eyes, and Mary's heart skipped a beat. He understood her world far more than she'd expected.

Still, she tried to show no reaction. Instead, she rolled her eyes again. "Granny calls their behavior, 'unseemly.' I believe Mama has corrupted Papa, with all her American mannerisms."

Henry nodded. "I can see that. Still, I admit, it is nice to know they are not putting on a show." He glanced at them almost fondly for a moment, before returning his gaze to Mary.

"Perhaps," Mary said, not willing to admit it fully. She still found her parents' behavior annoying, but she also remembered how much she hoped she and Mathew would be like them someday. And now, could she start to hope for it again? She'd changed since Papa had almost died right in front of her. Mary had started wondering where her life was taking her.

She looked right into Henry's deep blue eyes. Could her life be taking her to a deeper relationship with this man? You're the woman I'm falling in love with Henry had told her recently, causing her heart to skip a beat.

For now, all that mattered was he was smiling at her.

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Mary was truly beginning to love the smile on Henry's face the next day as he readied for his race. "I am so glad you came," he said, his smile widening even more.

Mary smiled, back. She was glad she'd come as well. To see Henry and to conquer her fear of car crashes. But before she could say so, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Hard. It felt wonderful.

Some public displays of affection were appropriate, Mary decided.