Missing Moments from Downton Abbey (Chapter One)
Title: Missing Moments
Author: Tripp3235
Pairing: Mary/Matthew
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
Timing: This takes place between episode 3 and 4
Summary: Mary runs into Matthew at the grave.
Notes: I posted this on FF so I thought I better put it here too. Like I used when I wrote better more. This is a series of random chapters to help fill in the gaps between episodes. This may the only chapter, there may be a dozen more. When Mary runs into Matthew at the fair, she's direct with him on how she feels. I felt another scene could explain why it's so easy for her to do so. I hope you enjoy it.
Mary stood in front of Patrick's gravestone. According to the dates, it had been over a year since he and his father's death, victims of the sinking of the Titanic. She'd thought little of them over the past year, except in relation to how their deaths now affected the estate and her rightful inheritance. She certainly didn't visit the graves, though some might think her heartless if they had known Patrick had been her unofficial fiancée. But now, things were different. Mary viewed everything differently.
It had been ten days since Pamuk's death, his death in her bed. A direct consequence from their ill-fated night of passion. Mary shuddered at the memory. When she first met the handsome Turk, she was smitten, almost bewitched. Why do such men have an effect on her? She was just as smitten when the Duke had visited last year. He talked her into invading the servants' quarters, dismissing her guilt with his insistence that it was her God given right. When Mr. Bates caught them up there, she was horrified. The excitement of the moment immediately dissipated and was replaced with shame. She vowed to never go against her own judgment again. Indeed, she wasn't going to let her parents dictate whom she could marry anymore; why should a man have the same control?
But just as soon as the Turk made his advances known, Mary's defenses crumbled. But this time, it wasn't simply invading the privacy of others. This time it was giving something up of hers. His handsome features and charms proved her downfall. She should have insisted he leave her bedroom immediately. She never invited him and she was within her rights to do so. But he talked her out of it. He talked her into going against her morals. He convinced her it was natural to indulge the pleasures of the flesh.
Mary blinked away tears at that, remembering no pleasure from the event itself, even before she realized Pamuk had died. She wondered if he had survived, what would have occurred immediately afterwards? Would he have held her in his arms with words of encouragement or would he had immediately dressed and walked out? Mary was confident it would have been the latter rather than the former, and perhaps she would have deserved such treatment too.
But his death changed everything. She'd never known anyone close to her to die suddenly. People who passed away before usually were of elderly or at least a mature enough age so it was expected. The only exception being James and Patrick, now laying before her in their graves. She remembered last year feeling numb and wondered what was wrong with her, that she couldn't even bother to conjure false tears over her cousin's death. Of course, she'd never been close to them, even after the engagement was settled. She remembered random visits when she was a little girl and, later, Patrick as her fiancée was declared as a matter of fact. Patrick seemed to avoid her when he visited and she was glad. Pushed in his company the conversation was stilted and she usually looked for any excuse to get away. He was better suited to Edith who did seem to care for him. Why couldn't she have been intended for him?
Now after having an intimate knowledge of death, she was looking at Patrick's grave differently. Unlike her unlucky lover, Patrick must have known he was going to die. They said the sinking took hours. Did he accept it or was he panicked? Did he regret the time he spent with her, with her family? She wished she had at least taken the time to say goodbye to him at the funeral the year before. The emptiness she felt last year was replaced with anxiety of her life. Now, she would be a tainted woman, if what happened ever got out. Not that it would. She knew her mother would never say anything, and Anna, her housemaid, had more integrity in her little finger than Mary had altogether.
Sighing, she said a small prayer, asking for God's forgiveness, not for Pamuk's death this time, but for her obtuse attitude about death up until now. She then turned, planning to walk away. But the person who appeared suddenly before her was the last person she expected to see.
"Matthew!" she exclaimed, more out of shock at his sudden arrival.
Her distant cousin looked as surprised as she did. "Cousin Mary, sorry…sorry to startle you. I didn't expect anyone to be standing here."
"No, I wouldn't think so." She regained her composure. What was he doing here? "This is an odd place for a walk?"
He blushed, and looked away. "Yes, that's not why I'm …well, I was here to visit your cousins' graves."
"James and Patrick?"
He nodded with a sheepish expression.
"But you didn't know them, or I had never thought you had even met…"
"We hadn't," he said. By now he had taken off his hat, and smoothed down his hair. "But I still come to pay my respects when I have time and am nearby."
Mary stood considering him. He looked embarrassed, unsure of himself. Usually when he was in her company, he stood confidently, proudly, and ready to battle her or anyone about his odd habits. At least what seemed odd to them. "I see. I'm surprised you would care."
Now his eyes met hers directly. "I do care, I…I feel obligated. It's because of their deaths that I am here. I…I hate that actually, I mean, their deaths. Your father spoke well of them and I feel sometimes guilty."
Mary was at a loss of what to say. Matthew was so different from any man, anyone actually, she had ever met. "I see."
"I suppose you think I'm being foolish and overly sentimental."
"No, not at all." Mary said quickly. "I…I find your natural ability to empathize extraordinary. You went out of your way last week to see me over Pamuk's death was really quite kind. I didn't understand why you did, but now I see, it's just in your character."
His eyes never faltered from hers. "You talk as if you were incapable of such an emotion."
"Haven't you realized by now that I'm heartless, Cousin Matthew?" She said with some bitterness. "I'm sure you've heard it by many, if not villagers, than surely my sister Edith has told you."
"I've not heard any such thing, but even if I had, I like to take my own views of people for myself."
This made her laugh, "So what was your opinion of me after I compared you to a sea monster?"
His smile was warm, "That you were upset given the circumstances, and I could understand."
"Could you really?" she asked. She'd always assumed he didn't care about her circumstances. Or the predicament the whole family was in.
He nodded, glancing down at Patrick's gravestone. Mary followed his gaze. Her cousin asked, "Was your opinion of Patrick a good one?"
Again, Mary felt the guilt well up inside of her. She knew she should answer in the affirmative, that it was the polite, proper thing to do. But this was Matthew, she didn't care what he thought of her, so a false face was not needed. "Actually, I didn't know him much at all. We spent as little time as possible together."
He didn't respond. Mary could feel his eyes were back on her. "You see, Cousin Matthew, we are different, you and I. You didn't know him, and already admitted to visiting this location already. This is my first time to return since the funeral, and he was my fiancée."
"Your fiancée." She heard him repeat. Why did she tell him that? He didn't have to know.
"Yes." She turned to look at him. She didn't know him well enough to know the expression he was giving her, but she could guess it was disapproval. What did it matter though? She and Matthew were not going to marry, not if she could help it. "It wasn't official. It was expected of us practically since we were born. Or at least, until my father realized he was not going to have a son."
Matthew looked away. "I see. I guess…"
Mary sighed. She waited for him to make the inevitable comment. Her mother warned her not to show this side of herself to others like she did with her family.
"I guess your life has been always outside of your control. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? It's…it's my lot in life. Not yours." Did he really mean it?
Now his eyes were bearing into her. Those eyes were his greatest power and he was using it fully. "No, but these last few weeks I have learned what it feels like to have your life altered on a whole new path. My own… reaction to it has not been positive, as you yourself have seen. To take it to such a level that you've experienced your whole life, Cousin Mary, you don't deserve it. No one does."
Mary held his gaze longer than necessary. She thought of his behavior since arriving. He had made his intentions clear, while he was heir to the estate, he was not going to put off the life he had back in Manchester. The family had not been happy to hear this, and she herself had laughed it off referring to him as "very middle class." For once, Mary saw how wrong she and her family had been in trying to dissuade him.
"Oh I don't know, maybe there is something to it after all." Panuk came to her mind then, if she had followed the rules like she should have, then he would still be alive and her reputation unscarred.
"What do you mean?" Matthew asked.
Mary was tired and knew there was no use extending the conversation. She'd already said far too much as it was. "Nothing, don't listen to me. Most people don't anyway. It's getting late and I better be going. I hope you have a good remainder of the day, Cousin."
As she walked away, she heard Matthew reply, "Goodbye, Mary. Maybe tomorrow will be better for you."
She couldn't let the remark go. She glanced back at him as she was leaving, "Oh Matthew, my family wants me to not look at my life in days but in the following years, and plan accordingly." She didn't wait for his answer.
Author: Tripp3235
Pairing: Mary/Matthew
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.
Timing: This takes place between episode 3 and 4
Summary: Mary runs into Matthew at the grave.
Notes: I posted this on FF so I thought I better put it here too. Like I used when I wrote better more. This is a series of random chapters to help fill in the gaps between episodes. This may the only chapter, there may be a dozen more. When Mary runs into Matthew at the fair, she's direct with him on how she feels. I felt another scene could explain why it's so easy for her to do so. I hope you enjoy it.
Mary stood in front of Patrick's gravestone. According to the dates, it had been over a year since he and his father's death, victims of the sinking of the Titanic. She'd thought little of them over the past year, except in relation to how their deaths now affected the estate and her rightful inheritance. She certainly didn't visit the graves, though some might think her heartless if they had known Patrick had been her unofficial fiancée. But now, things were different. Mary viewed everything differently.
It had been ten days since Pamuk's death, his death in her bed. A direct consequence from their ill-fated night of passion. Mary shuddered at the memory. When she first met the handsome Turk, she was smitten, almost bewitched. Why do such men have an effect on her? She was just as smitten when the Duke had visited last year. He talked her into invading the servants' quarters, dismissing her guilt with his insistence that it was her God given right. When Mr. Bates caught them up there, she was horrified. The excitement of the moment immediately dissipated and was replaced with shame. She vowed to never go against her own judgment again. Indeed, she wasn't going to let her parents dictate whom she could marry anymore; why should a man have the same control?
But just as soon as the Turk made his advances known, Mary's defenses crumbled. But this time, it wasn't simply invading the privacy of others. This time it was giving something up of hers. His handsome features and charms proved her downfall. She should have insisted he leave her bedroom immediately. She never invited him and she was within her rights to do so. But he talked her out of it. He talked her into going against her morals. He convinced her it was natural to indulge the pleasures of the flesh.
Mary blinked away tears at that, remembering no pleasure from the event itself, even before she realized Pamuk had died. She wondered if he had survived, what would have occurred immediately afterwards? Would he have held her in his arms with words of encouragement or would he had immediately dressed and walked out? Mary was confident it would have been the latter rather than the former, and perhaps she would have deserved such treatment too.
But his death changed everything. She'd never known anyone close to her to die suddenly. People who passed away before usually were of elderly or at least a mature enough age so it was expected. The only exception being James and Patrick, now laying before her in their graves. She remembered last year feeling numb and wondered what was wrong with her, that she couldn't even bother to conjure false tears over her cousin's death. Of course, she'd never been close to them, even after the engagement was settled. She remembered random visits when she was a little girl and, later, Patrick as her fiancée was declared as a matter of fact. Patrick seemed to avoid her when he visited and she was glad. Pushed in his company the conversation was stilted and she usually looked for any excuse to get away. He was better suited to Edith who did seem to care for him. Why couldn't she have been intended for him?
Now after having an intimate knowledge of death, she was looking at Patrick's grave differently. Unlike her unlucky lover, Patrick must have known he was going to die. They said the sinking took hours. Did he accept it or was he panicked? Did he regret the time he spent with her, with her family? She wished she had at least taken the time to say goodbye to him at the funeral the year before. The emptiness she felt last year was replaced with anxiety of her life. Now, she would be a tainted woman, if what happened ever got out. Not that it would. She knew her mother would never say anything, and Anna, her housemaid, had more integrity in her little finger than Mary had altogether.
Sighing, she said a small prayer, asking for God's forgiveness, not for Pamuk's death this time, but for her obtuse attitude about death up until now. She then turned, planning to walk away. But the person who appeared suddenly before her was the last person she expected to see.
"Matthew!" she exclaimed, more out of shock at his sudden arrival.
Her distant cousin looked as surprised as she did. "Cousin Mary, sorry…sorry to startle you. I didn't expect anyone to be standing here."
"No, I wouldn't think so." She regained her composure. What was he doing here? "This is an odd place for a walk?"
He blushed, and looked away. "Yes, that's not why I'm …well, I was here to visit your cousins' graves."
"James and Patrick?"
He nodded with a sheepish expression.
"But you didn't know them, or I had never thought you had even met…"
"We hadn't," he said. By now he had taken off his hat, and smoothed down his hair. "But I still come to pay my respects when I have time and am nearby."
Mary stood considering him. He looked embarrassed, unsure of himself. Usually when he was in her company, he stood confidently, proudly, and ready to battle her or anyone about his odd habits. At least what seemed odd to them. "I see. I'm surprised you would care."
Now his eyes met hers directly. "I do care, I…I feel obligated. It's because of their deaths that I am here. I…I hate that actually, I mean, their deaths. Your father spoke well of them and I feel sometimes guilty."
Mary was at a loss of what to say. Matthew was so different from any man, anyone actually, she had ever met. "I see."
"I suppose you think I'm being foolish and overly sentimental."
"No, not at all." Mary said quickly. "I…I find your natural ability to empathize extraordinary. You went out of your way last week to see me over Pamuk's death was really quite kind. I didn't understand why you did, but now I see, it's just in your character."
His eyes never faltered from hers. "You talk as if you were incapable of such an emotion."
"Haven't you realized by now that I'm heartless, Cousin Matthew?" She said with some bitterness. "I'm sure you've heard it by many, if not villagers, than surely my sister Edith has told you."
"I've not heard any such thing, but even if I had, I like to take my own views of people for myself."
This made her laugh, "So what was your opinion of me after I compared you to a sea monster?"
His smile was warm, "That you were upset given the circumstances, and I could understand."
"Could you really?" she asked. She'd always assumed he didn't care about her circumstances. Or the predicament the whole family was in.
He nodded, glancing down at Patrick's gravestone. Mary followed his gaze. Her cousin asked, "Was your opinion of Patrick a good one?"
Again, Mary felt the guilt well up inside of her. She knew she should answer in the affirmative, that it was the polite, proper thing to do. But this was Matthew, she didn't care what he thought of her, so a false face was not needed. "Actually, I didn't know him much at all. We spent as little time as possible together."
He didn't respond. Mary could feel his eyes were back on her. "You see, Cousin Matthew, we are different, you and I. You didn't know him, and already admitted to visiting this location already. This is my first time to return since the funeral, and he was my fiancée."
"Your fiancée." She heard him repeat. Why did she tell him that? He didn't have to know.
"Yes." She turned to look at him. She didn't know him well enough to know the expression he was giving her, but she could guess it was disapproval. What did it matter though? She and Matthew were not going to marry, not if she could help it. "It wasn't official. It was expected of us practically since we were born. Or at least, until my father realized he was not going to have a son."
Matthew looked away. "I see. I guess…"
Mary sighed. She waited for him to make the inevitable comment. Her mother warned her not to show this side of herself to others like she did with her family.
"I guess your life has been always outside of your control. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? It's…it's my lot in life. Not yours." Did he really mean it?
Now his eyes were bearing into her. Those eyes were his greatest power and he was using it fully. "No, but these last few weeks I have learned what it feels like to have your life altered on a whole new path. My own… reaction to it has not been positive, as you yourself have seen. To take it to such a level that you've experienced your whole life, Cousin Mary, you don't deserve it. No one does."
Mary held his gaze longer than necessary. She thought of his behavior since arriving. He had made his intentions clear, while he was heir to the estate, he was not going to put off the life he had back in Manchester. The family had not been happy to hear this, and she herself had laughed it off referring to him as "very middle class." For once, Mary saw how wrong she and her family had been in trying to dissuade him.
"Oh I don't know, maybe there is something to it after all." Panuk came to her mind then, if she had followed the rules like she should have, then he would still be alive and her reputation unscarred.
"What do you mean?" Matthew asked.
Mary was tired and knew there was no use extending the conversation. She'd already said far too much as it was. "Nothing, don't listen to me. Most people don't anyway. It's getting late and I better be going. I hope you have a good remainder of the day, Cousin."
As she walked away, she heard Matthew reply, "Goodbye, Mary. Maybe tomorrow will be better for you."
She couldn't let the remark go. She glanced back at him as she was leaving, "Oh Matthew, my family wants me to not look at my life in days but in the following years, and plan accordingly." She didn't wait for his answer.