A/N: Finally! It's here! After literally MONTHS of this idea bopping around in my head, continually being shunted out by more pressing ideas (seeing as this is only an epilogue), I have FINALLY written the concluding epiloge to To Prove a Woman Wrong.

I'd like to take this opportunity to say a huge thank you to everyone who enjoyed, alerted, favourited and reviewed this fic - I had HUGE fun writing it! Oh, and please allow me a quick mention of the Highclere Fan Awards (Link in my profile!) - I was really THRILLED to receive nominations! This fic has been nominated for the categories of Past/Future, Romance/Fluff and Complete Multi-Chapter. Thank you SO MUCH for nominations, voting is currently underway so if you feel so inclined, please go and check it out to vote for your favourite fics (I don't mean mine by any means!)

My reasons for writing this epilogue were twofold.

1) I realised I missed one of the Lark Rise lines I was supposed to include in the main fic! It's in here. :)

2) Mary's line "There's a baby every time he so much as looks fondly upon me" was sort of negated by Mary TOTALLY coming on to Matthew in the same chapter. This redresses that balance. :)

Anyway, this is it! Yay!

Epilogue

"Rockabye Baby, on the tree-top,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come Baby, cradle and all…"

Mary sat beside the crib, singing softly as Nicholas, tucked up snugly under warm, lavender blankets, wriggled contentedly. His tiny, baby lips smacked together as his tiny breaths slowed and regulated, his tiny chubby hands up by his cheeks with one curled tightly around Mary's finger. She continued humming quietly as she gently rocked the crib, smiling down at him with a warm, adoring gaze. The words made little sense, she reflected wryly, but what did these things matter? She wondered how much he understood, how much he was aware of. Tiny, he was so tiny… So precious.

The house was peaceful that afternoon, to Mary's pleasure. In the fresh March weather, shoots were starting to appear and buds beginning to show on the hedgerows. The children were enthralled by the changes of spring, and so Miss Beecham had dutifully taken them out to the estate today to explore the burgeoning wildlife that was just appearing. They were terribly excited, particularly Lizzie, who had been too young the year before to appreciate any of it, really.

Darling Lizzie had turned two, now, just a few days ago. Mary smiled fondly at the memory of the little girl's excitement as they had showered affection upon her; and how generous all their family and friends had been with gifts! Seeing as the house was so quiet, Mary decided it would be a good opportunity to make a start on the thank-you letters. She'd spent the morning doing all those little odd jobs that she never seemed to find the time to do when the children were around, had taken a break for lunch, had popped out to arrange the newspaper announcement of Nicholas' christening which had taken place last week, before taking a precious half hour simply to sit with the babe. He utterly delighted her, as she tickled him and sang to him and held him.

Now that he had fallen asleep, she decided she must settle down once more to these letters. It would appear terribly ungrateful to leave them any longer. Gently prising her finger free of his grasp, she bent and kissed his soft, powdery cheek, and tiptoed out of the nursery.

The writing desk in front of the sitting room's bay window was delightfully situated. Mary sat with neat piles of paper and envelopes in front of her, along with a well-used leather bound address book, a pot of stamps and her very best pen (a birthday present from Matthew last year, engraved with their initials). With the gramophone playing her favourite gentle jazz record, she quickly settled and was soon progressing well down the list of gifts and their donors, enjoying the flow of black ink across the crisp white sheets.

It didn't feel as though much time had passed at all when she heard the familiar chug and skid of Matthew's motorcycle upon his return home. She smiled to herself, feeling the same little thrill that she felt every day when he came home, but this afternoon did not rise to greet him. She was getting on so well with the letters, and didn't want to interrupt her train of thought mid-sentence.

She heard the front door click open, heard Molesley welcome him home.

"Good afternoon, Mr Crawley. Lady Mary's in the sitting room – shall I fetch some tea?"

"Afternoon, Molesley. No, thank you – I may take some in a while."

"Very well, Sir."

Their voices drifted through from the hallway. Mary raised an eyebrow. Matthew refusing a cup of tea on his arrival home usually meant one of a very few things. A knowing smile played about her lips, but… no, she was busy with this now; whatever he had in mind could very well wait a little while. She fell so very easily at the slightest encouragement from him, it was really quite ridiculous. Her frustrated words to her mother, many months ago, rang in her mind. 'There's a baby every time he so much as looks fondly upon me!" Well, she thought, she would not give in so easily today.

She heard him enter the sitting room behind her.

"Hello dear," she murmured distractedly as she signed her name with a flourish and blotted the paper.

"Hello, darling." She heard his footsteps cross the room. His intent was immediately obvious in the lilting tone of his voice. She sealed the envelope. "It's very quiet this afternoon," he murmured as his hands lay to rest on her shoulders, bending to kiss her tenderly on the cheek. Mary turned her head slightly towards him but still did not look up as she wrote out the address.

"Yes! The children are out exploring the wonders of the natural world with Miss Beecham and Nicholas is asleep upstairs."

"Ah," he smiled. Today, for a change, he was pleased to hear it.

"How was your day at work?" Another sheet of paper; Crawley House, Downton, at the top. Dear Lord and Lady Flincher… She mustn't look at him. She could picture exactly the expression in his eyes and if she were to look at him…

"Dreadfully dull," Matthew sighed. "Full of dreary meetings, with dreary clients, discussing dreary land settlements." His hands, which rested on her shoulders still, moved to gently brush down her upper arms, up again, across the back of her neck, one passing up to her hair… He bent his head close to hers and murmured softly. "I have spent the entire, dreary day longing to simply come home to my darling wife and…" The rest of his sentence was whispered right into Mary's ear.

"Matthew!" she gasped sharply, a warm blush staining her cheeks. Her lips pressed tightly together in an attempt not to smile, though they twitched in protest. She felt mildly affronted at his presumption to assume that she would simply drop everything to fall into his arms the moment he returned home… As if her entire day was spent simply waiting for him with no further purpose! She gripped her pen a little tighter, trying to ignore the hot flush of desire in the pit of her belly.

"Darling…" he murmured deeply. His hands were warm on her back and on her leg, gently massaging her thigh as he brushed feather-soft kisses over her shoulder. Mary wriggled on the chair, fighting her growing arousal. Nicholas was barely two months old, her body was only just recovering and surely not again…

"Matthew! You must see that I'm busy – I know you think that my work at home is of less importance than yours but these letters must go out – unless you'd like Granny breathing down our necks for the next month as we are said to be ungrateful!" Her voice grew increasingly high and breathless as she stared determinedly at the sheet in front of her, though she had not written anything for about a minute now.

Matthew pressed one more kiss to her marble cheek and straightened, smiling.

"Of course, dear. Please, then, don't let me distract you," he said softly. He watched with amused interest as her shoulders slumped the merest fraction when he stepped away. If she wanted to play it that way… it suited him to allow her a fleeting victory. He was fully aware of the fact that the more resolvedly she ignored him, the more it meant she wanted him.

As her pen scratched furiously across the paper, Matthew wandered to the fireplace. He spent a moment looking at it, at the various ornaments and photographs on it. Their wedding, Arabella as a baby, himself in uniform, his medals, Reginald, the two of them by his motorcycle after the war, various family portraits… He smiled fondly with the memory of each scene. Taking a deep breath, he looked up then at the fresh vase of flowers in the centre of the mantelpiece.

"These are beautiful, darling," he murmured as his fingers traced distractedly along a delicate petal's edge. He glanced back towards her, appraising her reaction. Nothing yet. "Such a complementing shade of blue."

"Mmm? Thank you, dear."

Matthew smiled, knowing that behind her dismissive tone she'd be secretly pleased of his attention again (no matter how saccharine he was being).

"You know, the colour reminds me of the dress you wore for your mother's birthday – it's so fresh in my mind."

"That's because you spent the entire evening staring very intently at it, darling…" Mary smiled slyly, skin prickling all over at the memory of his eyes on her that night, and his haste to shed the dress he had so admired when they got home. Oh, he was trying – his entreating compliments were entirely out of character and she knew he was simply saying such things to soften her – but she would not give in so easily!

"Mm."

Matthew watched as she purposefully folded the paper and slid it into the envelope. He walked back to the little table, pulling out a chair to her left and sitting down, his eyes flickering over her as she held up the envelope and ran her tongue along the gummed edge to seal it. He moistened his lips, pulse fluttering as she continued to fix her concentration on what she was doing, seemingly oblivious to him (though both knew it was a carefully held act).

As she continued to write, Matthew's eyes moved heavily between her lips, gently pursed in concentration (occasionally she bit her lip gently or her tongue flicked over them) and her slender hands. Her hand closest to him lay flat on the table, holding the sheet of paper down. After a little while of contentedly watching, Matthew leaned an elbow on the table and lifted his hand to hers, stroking the backs of her fingers lightly, so lightly. Mary's eyes flicked across to where they met, but still refused to acknowledge it, though Matthew could feel her tremble slightly under his touch.

"You have such beautiful hands," he eventually murmured quietly. Mary's lips twitched into a smile. He pressed his advantage. "I love to watch them." His breath caught slightly as he saw Mary blush, wondering if she was thinking (as he was) about some of the things he had watched (and felt) her hands do… Mary coughed.

"Well, as long as you're just watching and not stopping me from writing, I shan't mind," she said distractedly. She was dangerously close to giving in, it had been easier when he was over by the fireplace but now she could see him out of the corner of her eye, but no…

"Of course!" He sounded mockingly affronted, before his voice softened once more to a contemplative tone. "I haven't heard you play the piano in a long time, darling. I wish you would." Matthew continued his gentle playing with the fingers of her free hand. "You have such a delicate touch, I love to hear you -"

"Matthew!" Her pen finally slammed down on the table. "I will accept no more of your flattery!" Matthew simply smiled amusedly at her as she teasingly rebuked him. Her pulse was racing alarmingly from all his attentions, and intentions… "We both know perfectly well what you're trying to do, but these letters won't write themselves, you know!" A gentle blush coloured her cheeks as she met his eyes for the first time since he had come in. His fingers were still tracing lightly over her hand, making her shiver.

Matthew smiled, looking at her with deep fondness.

Mary's parted lips trembled as she lost herself in his gaze. Her resolve was destroyed in that look. Her expression softened, she twisted and went to shift towards him…

Matthew stood up. "I'm terribly sorry, darling, I've done nothing but distract you since I came in. Do forgive me…" He bent and pressed a fleeting kiss to her cheek before turning, walking calmly over his armchair and sitting down, casually folding out his newspaper. Hidden behind its broad sheets, he grinned mischievously to himself, just picturing Mary's expression.

She stared, open-mouthed, at him as he walked away from her. Oh, he was abominable! He set her entire body aflame and then backed off! Mary knew perfectly well that he would smugly be waiting for her to give in and come to him, now he had broken her defence… Well, if he thought that, he could very well think again. With a quiet little huff of dissatisfaction, she turned sharply back to the table and picked up her pen once more. With far greater force than necessary, she pressed a stamp to the envelope and whipped out another sheet of paper.

After a few minutes of reading in silence, able to hear only the furious scribble of Mary's pen, Matthew peered over the top of his newspaper. Her shoulders were hunched and tense. He pursed his lips. She was very determined today! Glancing at his watch, he realised he'd been home now for nearly fifteen minutes and… hadn't gotten very far at all.

Slowly, he stood up. Mary straightened a little hopefully. Instead of going back to her, however, Matthew walked across the room to the gramophone, now silent since the record had finished. He spent a moment or two flicking through the various records they owned, before simply setting the needle back onto the record that was already in.

Lazily lilting jazz music filled the room. Matthew turned the volume a fraction higher. Without saying a word, he finally went to stand beside Mary and merely held his hand out, smiling gently.

Mary looked up at him breathlessly. She was annoyed, annoyed at him and the ease of his control at her, annoyed at herself… but quietly thrilled at how delightfully charming he always managed to be. With a tremulous smile she laid down her pen and stood up, her eyes never leaving his as she took his hand.

They slipped into each other's arms perfectly naturally, into their comfortable, familiar hold. It was not a formal dance hold, it did not need to be like this… They were closer; Matthew's hand was on her hip, her arm curled around his back as her head rested on his shoulder, their joined hands clasped closely between them as they slowly turned about the sitting room. Mary released a little sigh of contentment, prompting Matthew to kiss the top of her head then rest his cheek there affectionately. All earlier teasing and taunting was forgotten as they shuffled in the middle of the room, around the couch, utterly relaxed and happy. A deep warmth spread through Mary. She could never resist him. She never wanted to.

Matthew wasn't sure when they had stopped, but he suddenly realised that they weren't dancing any more.

Tenderly, he lifted his hand from her hip and clasped the back of her head, tracing his fingers along her earlobe and down her jaw to her chin, tipping her head up gently. Then he kissed her, softly, breathing in deeply as the familiar thrill shivered through him. Mary sighed, draped her arms around his neck and kissed him slowly back, savouring him after such a long and delicious build-up.

After several long, sweet moments, Matthew leaned back, his arms hooked leisurely around her back where his hands rested at the small of it. He gazed warmly at her, bursting with love, lips twitching into a fond smile.

"Have we reached a truce, darling?"

Mary blushed a little.

"My dearest love, I don't think there was ever a conflict for us to call a truce on!" Her voice was low and seductive as her hand came around to rest gently on Matthew's chest, her fingers playing lightly on his collar and already working his tie loose, without even thinking about it. "I believe you know full well that you had me the moment you came in the door…"

"Hmm, perhaps," he smiled fondly and kissed her again. It was the lightest of kisses but the thought of what they had teased about suddenly flooded him with desire and he kissed her deeper, releasing a soft moan and tightening his arms around her for a moment. "Now then," he murmured into her ear. "About that –" Mary giggled heartily as he repeated his earlier wish. The letters were quite forgotten.

"Oh Matthew," she gasped, smirking at him with a dark glint in her eyes. "Well, you have been working awfully hard all day…"

She ran her finger down his cheek, over his lips and down his chin, making his breath catch shallowly as he gazed at her, transfixed. With one more searing kiss to his lips, Mary skilfully whipped his tie off (loosening his collar in the same motion) and flung it across the back of the couch, before grabbing his hand and tugging him behind her out of the sitting room and upstairs. He needed no encouragement and followed her eagerly, grinning in anticipation.

All he had to do was look at her fondly, with that look in his eyes and that smile on his lips… Mary had no defence. She didn't want one. She loved him utterly. She loved their five darling children utterly. If they had any more – it was not a small possibility, considering her weakness to him – she would love them utterly too. As they sank into each other's arms in bed, Mary felt as though she couldn't care less if they had ten more children, or twenty, even… She would love them all, but most of all him.

Though perhaps, come a few months time, she would not be thinking quite the same thing…

Really the End! :)

A/N: Well, there we have it! Thank you so much for reading. For those curious, the line from Lark Rise in this was "I will accept no more of your flattery!", serving as the impetus for Matthew's rather cheesy flirtation attempts. Really, I think he'd have had more immediate success if he'd have just carried on kissing her, but hopefully it was still entertaining! It goes without saying that reviews and comments are massively appreciated!

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it :)