Chapter Text
Train to Leeds
The train continued its rhythmic journey, the clattering of wheels echoing in the background. Mary's initial shock and disorientation began to recede, and she slowly reconnected with her surroundings. She turned to Tom, seeking further clarification about their destination and their future.
"Where are we going?" Mary's voice carried traces of disbelief, reflecting her lingering sense of surrealism.
Tom, his demeanour calm and reassuring, replied, "We're going to Leeds." His gaze drifted to the passing landscape outside the window as he spoke. "I actually have a property in the city, so we will eventually have somewhere to stay. Unfortunately, at the moment, the apartment is not liveable."
Mary, now more alert and curious, was taken aback by this revelation. "You have an apartment in Leeds?" Genuine surprise coloured her words, as her mind struggled to process this newfound information.
Tom nodded, a hint of pride gracing his voice. "Yes, remember I told you I had investments? Well, the house in Leeds is one. It's quite large. There's a basement, a ground floor, and then there are three additional floors which have been converted to flats. The third floor flat even have access to the attics where an additional two bedrooms were created. These flats are currently rented, adding to the additional income."
As Tom unveiled the extent of his financial endeavours, Mary's embarrassment over her own lack of financial knowledge began to surface. She realised that she had always taken money for granted, never having to manage her own finances. Tom's revelations were opening her eyes to the practicalities of the real world.
"You said we'll eventually be able to live there?" Mary inquired, her curiosity now fully engaged.
Tom confirmed her hopes with a reassuring nod. "Yes, I always intended for the basement and the ground floor to be my own personal flat, so this was the last one to be renovated with Cartwright, the builder I have hired to do the work. I will have to speak to him on the progress, but in the meantime, we can get rooms in a hotel."
Mary was still processing the implications of this new reality when she posed her next question, her anxiety palpable. "A room together?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Tom, ever understanding and considerate, replied gently, "I'm afraid so. Though I have money, and I am earning decent money, it is not all readily available in cash. Also, it's important that I save for Harry's and my business. I can't afford the expense of paying for two hotel rooms for however long it takes for the renovation to be completed."
The weight of her situation began to settle on Mary's shoulders. The stark realisation that her reputation was irrevocably tarnished, especially given the societal standards of 1913, was sinking in. She slumped back into her seat, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery beyond the train window. Her thoughts swirled with uncertainty about the daunting and uncertain future that lay ahead.
Reputations
The Queen's Hotel in Leeds was a grand establishment, its lobby adorned with opulent furnishings and bathed in warm, golden light. Tom had chosen this grand hotel with Mary in mind, he felt the opulence of the hotel wouldn’t be as shocking as a lower-class establishment would be, though this did mean they would need to share a room.
Tom had booked a twin room, knowing it was more cost-effective than booking separate rooms, but he was also aware of the societal expectations they would need to navigate, so took the liberty of booking them in as Mr & Mrs Branson, to avoid further scandal.
As they settled into their room, Mary couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over her. She had always been accustomed to the comforts and luxuries of Downton Abbey, and this was a stark departure from her previous life. Her reputation, something she had taken for granted, was now in tatters, and it weighed heavily on her.
Tom, perceptive as always, sensed her apprehension. He took a seat across from her, his expression serious yet empathetic. "Mary, we need to talk about the impact of all this on your reputation," he began gently.
She nodded, her gaze fixed on her hands, which were folded in her lap. "I understand that this scandal could seriously affect how I'm perceived in society. I might not be welcomed back with open arms."
Tom nodded in agreement. "The challenges women face in these situations are far greater than men. It's unjust, but it's the reality we live in. Reputation is everything."
Mary sighed, feeling the weight of it all. "And to secure a place at the University of Leeds, I'll need character references and a good reputation. All the studying and hard work might be for nothing."
Tom's voice was sympathetic. "I know it's unfair, Mary. But there is a solution."
She looked up, her eyes searching his for answers. "What solution?"
Tom met her gaze, his expression unwavering. "We should get married as soon as possible. It would help mitigate the worst effects of the scandal. Your exams are still four months away, and during that time, the scandal might fade, especially if you're a married woman."
Mary contemplated his words, her mind racing. This was an unexpected turn of events, and yet, it seemed like her only chance to salvage some semblance of her former life. She admired Tom, respected his determination, intelligence, and the kindness he had shown her as a tutor. There was even a flicker of attraction, but she had never allowed it to fully develop. "Do you even like me?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Tom's response was immediate and sincere. "Mary, of course, I like you. You're hardworking, intelligent, and resourceful. You have many admirable qualities. Any man would be honoured to marry you."
The gravity of the situation pressed upon them both, and in that moment, the decision was made. Mary and Tom would embark on a path they had never imagined, bound together by circumstance and necessity, with the hope that their union would offer a chance at redemption and a future filled with possibilities.
The Article
Tom purchased the local newspapers, a sense of unease gnawing at him as he flicked through the pages. His heart sank when he found the inflammatory article that was poised to ignite a storm of scandal. He knew that he had no choice but to show Mary the paper, yet a small relief washed over him as he realised that, at least, their names had not been printed for all to see.
Mary observed Tom's troubled expression as he perused the article, her curiosity piqued. "What is it, Tom?" she inquired, her voice tinged with anxiety.
Wordlessly, Tom handed her the newspaper, his jaw clenched in apprehension. Mary's eyes darted across the bold headline that screamed scandal and sensationalism.
📰 Society's Whispers: A Scandalous Affair Unveiled!
She took in the damning words that alluded to a secret liaison, one that had shaken the tranquil halls of an esteemed English estate. Although her name had been omitted due to the constraints of libel laws, the implications were clear. Her reputation, the most precious possession she had, was tarnished beyond repair.
Tom watched her closely, aware of the weight of the revelation and the damage it had inflicted on her standing in society. He knew now, more than ever, that their only path forward was to marry as soon as possible, presenting themselves as a respectable married couple.
The article painted a vivid picture of clandestine meetings and stolen glances amidst the lush gardens of the estate. It hinted at a recent gathering where a dramatic confrontation had taken place, sending shockwaves through the assembled guests.
As the details of the scandalous affair continued to unfold in the article, Mary's heart sank further. It was evident that society's watchful eyes were fixed upon her, awaiting further revelations with bated breath.
Tom and Mary shared a silent understanding in that moment. Their futures were entwined in a way they could have never foreseen, and the path ahead was fraught with challenges. But they would face them together, as a married couple, determined to weather the storm that now threatened to define their lives.
Letters to Old Friends
Tom sat down at a small desk in their hotel room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light on the paper before him. He picked up his fountain pen and began to write a letter to Henry, his trusted friend and partner in their business venture.
Dear Henry,
I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to express my gratitude for your recent project update and the progress you've made on the stainless-steel process control limits. Your dedication and attention to detail have been invaluable in moving our work forward.
I am writing to request some further details regarding the project. Specifically, I would appreciate it if you could provide me with information on the times when measurements were taken, including temperature and pressure readings. These details will help us fine-tune our approach and ensure the accuracy of our data.
On a more personal note, I have undergone a significant change in my circumstances. I have recently left my position at Downton Abbey, which may come as a surprise. It was not what I had originally planned, but life often takes unexpected turns.
I am currently residing at a hotel in Leeds, as I am preparing to marry Lady Mary Crawley, the eldest daughter of my former employers, the Crawley family. Yes, I understand this revelation may come as a shock, and it certainly was not in my immediate plans. However, fate has a way of leading us down unexpected paths, and I have come to realise that this journey is one I am willing to embark on with Lady Mary.
Our wedding is scheduled for Wednesday, the 17th of this month, here in Leeds. It would mean a great deal to me if you could attend and share in this momentous occasion. Your presence would be a source of support and encouragement as we begin this new chapter in our lives.
I understand that this may be short notice, and I appreciate any effort you can make to be there. Please let me know your thoughts, and if you are able to attend, I will provide you with the necessary details.
Thank you once again for your contributions to our work. I look forward to your response and hope to see you soon.
Warm regards,
Tom Branson
*^*
Dear Bertie,
I hope this letter finds you well. It pains me to put these words to paper, for I must admit that you were right all along. I should have heeded your warning about the risks of becoming Lady Mary's tutor. In my eagerness to assist her in pursuing her dreams, I allowed my judgment to become clouded, and the consequences have been dire.
Lord Grantham discovered the unconventional nature of our relationship, and it led to Mary's banishment from the family home. The scandal has grown to unimaginable proportions, with a dreadful newspaper article detailing our situation. Although Mary's name is not explicitly mentioned, her reputation is surely tarnished beyond repair.
In a desperate attempt to salvage her honour, Mary and I have decided to marry. It is a step we take not out of romantic love, but out of necessity to protect her from further disgrace. We are to be wed at City Hall in a modest ceremony, and I have invited Henry and yourself to attend as witnesses.
Bertie, I want to express my deepest gratitude for your friendship and the wise counsel you have offered me over the years. I deeply regret not heeding your advice in this instance, and I can only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive my stubbornness.
I look forward to your response and hope that you will consider joining us for this solemn occasion. We could use a friend by our side during these trying times.
Yours sincerely,
Tom
The House
Tom had been diligently making all the necessary arrangements for their upcoming wedding, which was now scheduled for the following Wednesday at City Hall. He had also extended invitations to his two closest friends, Henry and Bertie, who would serve as witnesses. These two companions from his college years had been a steadfast presence in his life, and he was grateful to have them by his side on this momentous occasion.
With a reassuring tone, Tom updated Mary on the progress of their flat. The major construction work had been completed, leaving only the tasks of decoration and furnishing. He assured her that all the essential items to transform the house into a comfortable home were already in place, waiting for their arrival.
Mary felt nervous at the prospect of her new home. Of course, she realised that it wouldn’t compare to Downton in size or grandeur. But how small would it be? She also spent considerable time worrying about what domestic duties she would be expected to perform. Her future was shrouded in uncertainty. At least after the flat viewing she would know a part of her fate.
On the day of the visit, Tom guided Mary to a charming Georgian-style house situated in Beeston, a suburb located south of Leeds. The house boasted a layout that included a ground floor, a first floor, a second floor, a third floor, as well as attics and a basement. Their new abode was to occupy the basement and ground floor flat. The flats were ingeniously arranged in a 'U-shape' configuration, with a central staircase leading to the upper levels. Each landing featured a door that granted access to one of the flats within the building.
As they ventured further into the house, Tom led Mary past the street door and into a spacious foyer adorned with a grand wooden staircase that served as a centrepiece. Beyond the staircase lay the front door to their flat. Additionally, another street door provided access to the basement below, through a convenient boot room.
The house held the promise of a fresh start, a place where they could begin their life together, away from the prying eyes and judgments of the world outside.
Tom guided Mary into the unfurnished drawing room, which immediately struck her with its spaciousness. The room bore an air of grandeur, and Mary couldn't help but envision how it would look once they had added their personal touches. A fireplace adorned one wall, promising warmth and cosiness in the coming winter months. The deep green walls provided an elegant backdrop, and the polished floorboards gleamed in the natural light that streamed in through the large bay window. Mary noted that there were no curtains, allowing an unobstructed view outside.
From the drawing room, they proceeded into the dining room through wooden double doors. This room bore a different colour scheme, painted in a rich maroon shade. The white ceilings and mouldings added a touch of sophistication to the space. It was evident that Tom had put thought into the aesthetic details of their new home.
Mary's curiosity was piqued when she noticed a green baize door in the dining room. She ventured closer, and Tom explained its purpose. "This door leads to a hidden staircase that goes down to the basement below," he said, revealing another layer of the house's design.
As they explored further, Mary couldn't help but notice that the house had been wired for electricity, a modern convenience she had grown accustomed to during her time at Downton. Tom confirmed that he had installed electricity throughout the house, including the bedrooms, ensuring they would have all the comforts of a modern home.
The dining room held a delightful surprise in the form of large French doors that led to a small terrace. Mary stepped outside and took in the fresh air. There was just enough space for two ironwork chairs and a small table, creating a charming spot for them to enjoy a cup of tea or a moment of respite. Stone steps led from the terrace to a paved yard, and from there, a vast garden stretched out before them. The garden featured a lush lawn and shrubbery along the edges, promising opportunities for relaxation and outdoor activities.
Mary, however, couldn't help but feel a pang of concern. She turned to Tom with a question that had been nagging at her. "Are these the only public rooms in the house?" The contrast between this new space and the grandeur of Downton was stark, and she was beginning to realise the adjustments that lay ahead in their life together. “Yes” Tom simply answered.
As Mary and Tom explored their new home, they entered a hallway from the dining room. This hallway was filled with possibilities, and the soft glow of natural light filtering through windows above two of the doors created an inviting ambiance. Tom gestured towards these two doors, explaining their purposes.
The first door led to a conveniently placed WC, a practical addition to the home. Next to it was another door that opened into the bathroom. Mary stepped inside and was greeted by a soothing sight. The bathroom was decorated in pale green, imparting a sense of tranquillity. However, what caught her attention was the wallpaper on one wall, depicting a lush forest scene.
Tom's cheeks turned slightly rosy as he shared a charming childhood memory. "You see, when I was small, my foster mother and I would spend hours looking at Illustrated Natural History books. I always wanted to visit a real rainforest." Mary couldn't help but smile at the image of a young Tom engrossed in such books, his curiosity about the world evident even then.
Continuing their tour, they moved to the other side of the hallway. Here, they discovered a spacious study painted in a soft grey hue. The room held the promise of quiet contemplation and focused work, a place where ideas could flourish.
The final door in the hallway opened into the spacious bedroom. As Mary stepped inside, she couldn't help but notice the pleasing shade of blue that enveloped the room. However, one thought began to nag at her. There was only one bedroom, and it became apparent that Tom had not anticipated the need for a second. If guests were to visit, he had envisioned setting up a bed in the study.
It dawned on Mary that she was expected to share a bedroom with her soon-to-be husband. She glanced around the room, her mind racing with thoughts. Breaking the silence, she tentatively suggested, "Perhaps we could have one wall with floral wallpaper to add a touch of elegance and warmth?"
Tom nodded in agreement, relief washing over his features as he realised Mary's willingness to make the space their own. "That's a splendid idea," he replied, his smile growing. "And Mr. Cartwright left a furniture catalogue downstairs. I've already ordered some essentials, including a double bed and wardrobes," he added with a slight blush.
As they stood in their new bedroom, amidst the blank canvas of blue walls, Mary and Tom could feel the weight of their new life together settling upon them. It was a moment of transition, and they knew that soon, this space would be transformed into a home where they would build their future.
Tom guided Mary downstairs to the lower floor, where they entered a well-appointed kitchen. It featured the modern convenience of both hot and cold-water taps, a practical washroom, and a gas stove. The room was furnished with a sturdy kitchen table, a bench, and two chairs neatly arranged along the wall. Large windows bathed the space in an abundance of natural light. Tom pointed out that the house was already equipped with gas, making it convenient to have gas stoves installed in all the flats.
Next to the kitchen, a corridor stretched ahead, with three doors leading off it. The first door opened into a practical boot room, the second into a workroom, and the third revealed a cozy bedroom. Tom explained his plans for these rooms.
"I intended to use the workroom for my projects with Henry," he mentioned, a note of excitement in his voice. Mary soon realised that he expected her to utilise the other study for her university studies. The question of her education lingered in her mind, and she couldn't help but ask, "Am I still going to university?"
Tom turned to her, his expression earnest and supportive. "Mary, you've worked tirelessly toward your goal, and I won't stand in your way of achieving it," he assured her, his words filling her with a warm sense of encouragement. It was evident that their goals aligned well, and Mary felt a surge of gratitude for their shared aspirations.
The last room Tom introduced Mary to was a spacious, airy chamber with yet another window. He suggested it could serve as the housekeeper or cook's room, spacious enough to accommodate a bed, armchair, and table. Mary asked if they were getting a housekeeper, and Tom ruefully explained that “though you are a talented and resourceful woman, you burn milk,” Mary grinned at Tom, at his words. He explained they would need someone to cook their meals and help with the house chores. This brought a smile to Mary's lips, as she was fully aware of her limitations in housekeeping tasks.
Returning to the kitchen, Tom and Mary pulled up chairs and began perusing sample books filled with wallpaper and curtain swatches. Mary eagerly shared her ideas about the furniture they would need for the public rooms, and Tom attentively took notes. In this moment, for the first time, despite the lack of space, Mary felt a genuine sense of excitement and anticipation about the future they were building together.
Old Friends
The day before the wedding was an opportunity for Mary to finally meet the two men who held such a significant place in Tom's life. As she waited in the hotel's drawing room, her thoughts were a whirlwind of curiosity and anticipation.
First to arrive was Mr. Henry Brearly, a man whose strong, working-class origins were evident in his robust build and penetrating gaze. He stood tall and proud, his dark hair adding to his commanding presence. Mary couldn't help but admire the resilience and determination that must have brought him from the steelworks of Sheffield to the refined surroundings of the hotel.
Henry's voice was warm as he greeted Mary, "Lady Mary, a pleasure to finally meet you." His accent, though different from the refined tones Mary was accustomed to, carried a certain charm. They engaged in a conversation that revealed the depth of Henry's passion about the stainless-steel project he and Tom were working on. Mary couldn't help but be impressed by his enthusiasm and dedication to their shared venture.
Soon after, Lieutenant Bertie Pelham made his entrance, contrasting sharply with Henry in both appearance and background. Dressed immaculately in his smart uniform, Bertie exuded an air of sophistication. It was surprising to learn that he was a cousin to the Marquess of Hexham, a connection that added a layer of complexity to his character.
Bertie was quick to explain his humble circumstances, emphasizing that he had "not a bean to my name." He hailed from a long line of younger sons and had chosen a path in the army to secure his own place in the world. His ambitions extended to taking over his father's role as the land agent for the Brancaster Estate, a prestigious position indeed.
Mary couldn't help but observe the stark contrast in the backgrounds of Tom, Henry, and Bertie. Tom had an uncanny ability to attract intelligent and remarkable individuals from diverse walks of life, a testament to his open-mindedness and magnetic personality.
As evening approached, the four of them, Tom, Henry, Bertie, and Mary, gathered in the hotel's drawing room, where plans for the upcoming wedding and celebrations were discussed. The meal at a local restaurant would take place after the momentous occasion that awaited them the following day, a wedding that was to take place at Leeds City Hall at 11 a.m.
In adherence to tradition, Tom would spend the night apart from his bride-to-be, maintaining the age-old superstition that the groom should not see the bride before the wedding day, sharing Bertie’s room. As they continued to chat and share stories, it became clear that the bonds of friendship and camaraderie among these men were as strong as the steel they envisioned in their shared project, and Mary felt a profound sense of gratitude for the unique path that had brought them all together.
Tom Explains
In the dimly lit room of the hotel, Tom and Bertie prepared for bed, the weight of the impending wedding day heavy on Tom's mind. Bertie, with a knowing look, couldn't help a reproachful glance as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head.
"I told you so," Bertie simply said.
Tom sighed, his shoulders sagging as he acknowledged the truth in Bertie's words. "I know, I know," he admitted, "You warned me about this in your letters. Something like this could happen. I just don't know how it escalated out of control so quickly. Mary and I weren't able to mitigate the circumstances."
Bertie, now fully dressed in his nightclothes, settled into his side of the room and propped himself up on an elbow. "What exactly happened?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
Tom began to recount the series of events that had led to this moment. "Well," he started, "Mary would come to my cottage most days in the afternoon during my lunch break. We'd study, and only study, Bertie. You must believe that. It was to help her get ready for her entrance exams into Leeds University. I was even teaching her some practical life skills in preparation for her independent life in the Halls. There was a little hiccup, though."
Bertie leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Tell me more," he urged.
"So, it happened on a Wednesday," Tom continued. "Due to the guests at the house, my mid-day break was later that day, around three o'clock. As usual, Mary arranged to come to my cottage. It was September and colder than usual. We had a fire going. I was going over the basics of probabilities and statistics, you know how tricky that subject is."
Bertie nodded, urging Tom to stay on track with his narrative.
"Right," Tom said, "So, she came over. We had cocoa and sat in front of the fire with our book. Then, inexplicably, we fell asleep. We've never done anything like that before. We always maintained a professional relationship. I was aware that, when it came to education, I held power over Mary. You know how I detest men who take advantage of women."
Bertie understood that Tom had a personal connection to this subject due to his own birth story. Tom believed his mother had been taken advantage of by his wealthy father, unaware that his mother was, in fact, wealthier and an equal participant in their relationship. Bertie acknowledged Tom's feelings with a sympathetic nod.
"Next thing we knew," Tom continued, "Lord Grantham and half the dinner guests were in my tiny cottage. Lord Grantham was furious, roaring at us and even struck me in the face.” “No wonder,” Bertie said, “Tom, he found you with his daughter.” “I know, Bertie,” he told him. “I'm so angry with myself for letting this happen. Mary had such plans to better herself, to gain an education. It's quite unusual for a woman of her station to have such aspirations. I can't forgive myself if I ruin that."
Bertie, thoughtful and concerned, asked, "So, Mary still intends to go to university?"
Tom replied with determination, "I certainly intend to encourage it. She's worked so hard these past seven months, and I won't let it go to waste."
Bertie smiled, his expression softening. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied sincerely.
As they settled into their respective beds, Bertie couldn't resist probing a bit further. "Now that you're marrying this woman," he inquired, "how do you feel about that?"
Tom, his voice filled with a newfound sense of conviction, replied, "She's a beautiful, intelligent, accomplished woman. Any man would be happy to have her as a wife. Though I never thought she'd be my wife, I can find it in myself to make the best of it. I'll work every hour of the day to ensure her happiness."
Bertie, satisfied with Tom's response, nodded approvingly. The two men exchanged smiles, knowing that despite the unexpected turn of events, their friendship remained steadfast. With that, they settled into their beds, knowing they had a busy and momentous day ahead.
Wedding Day
Mary gazed at herself in the mirror, feeling a mixture of emotions as she adjusted the delicate lace collar of her blouse. Anna's thoughtfulness in sending some of Mary's finer clothes had been a reassuring touch, even in the midst of these unconventional circumstances. She couldn't help but think about how different this wedding was from what she had envisioned for herself.
Her blue wool skirt fell elegantly, and the blouse, with its lace trim and pearl buttons, added a touch of sophistication to her ensemble. Mary had fashioned her hair into a simple yet elegant chignon, securing it with tortoiseshell combs. As she took in her reflection, she felt a sense of determination. Despite the circumstances, she was making a choice to be with Tom, and that was something she could stand behind.
Tom's arrangement for a cab to take her to City Hall was met with a mix of nervousness and sadness. The realisation that her sisters or even a trusted maid were not there with her weighed heavily on her mind. When the cab driver asked if she was alright, she managed a smile through her tears and replied, "Just nervous."
In her heart, though, there was a tinge of sorrow. This wasn't the grand wedding she had imagined for herself, and Tom wasn't even there with her as she had once imagined. It was a far cry from the life she had once envisioned, but circumstances had brought her to this point.
City Hall's imposing Greystone facade loomed ahead as the cab pulled up. She went through the lobby, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the grand building, and approached the reception desk, where she announced her scheduled wedding. The secretary's warm smile offered a small comfort as she directed Mary to a modest wood-panelled room. Twelve chairs were neatly arranged, and a dais awaited the couple. Bertie and Henry, steadfast friends, were already present, waiting for her.
Tom stood there, holding a bouquet of flowers, which he offered her as she approached, was a thoughtful gesture that touched Mary deeply. It was a simple touch, but it meant the world to her on this unconventional wedding day.
The celebrant arrived, and in the presence of Bertie and Henry, Mary and Tom exchanged their vows. The words held weight, and the commitment they were making was undeniable. After the ceremony, they shared a celebratory meal.
*
As the plates were cleared away after their celebratory meal, Tom, Bertie, and Henry sat back in their chairs, their faces flushed with the shared laughter and camaraderie of old friends. Mary leaned in, intrigued by the mischievous glint in their eyes.
"Alright, lads," she said, a playful smile gracing her lips. "What's the story you've been teasing me about from your university days?"
Tom, Bertie, and Henry exchanged knowing glances before Bertie, the storyteller of the group, leaned forward. "Well, you see, Mary," he began, "it all started with a rather audacious dare."
"A dare?" Mary raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.
Henry nodded, chuckling. "Yes, quite the dare indeed. You see, we had this eccentric professor, Professor Abernathy, who was known for his peculiar tests of bravery."
Tom chimed in, "One evening, he challenged us to a midnight expedition to the university's old, supposedly haunted library. He claimed he had seen a ghostly apparition there and dared us to spend an hour inside, alone, in complete darkness."
Mary's eyes widened with interest. "And did you accept the dare?"
Bertie grinned, "Of course, we did! We were young and foolish then, and the prospect of proving ourselves braver than our peers was irresistible."
Henry picked up the tale, "So, there we were, the three of us, each in a separate corner of that eerie library, surrounded by ancient tomes and shadowy figures carved into the bookshelves. The clock struck midnight, and the lights were extinguished."
Tom added with a wink, "And let me tell you, Mary, the old library creaked and moaned like a ship at sea. We were terrified, but none of us wanted to admit it."
Bertie continued, "We lasted all of fifteen minutes before we bolted out of there, tripping over each other in our haste to escape. Professor Abernathy, with a twinkle in his eye, congratulated us on our 'excellent performance,' though I'm sure he had a good laugh at our expense."
Mary couldn't help but laugh along with them, envisioning the younger versions of her husband and his friends, caught between youthful bravado and genuine fear.
"Ah, those were the days," Tom sighed with a fond smile. "University life was quite the adventure."
Bertie raised his glass in a toast. "To youth, foolish dares, and lifelong friendships."
They clinked their glasses together, the laughter and warmth of the moment filling the air, as they celebrated not only Tom and Mary's wedding but also cherishing the time with their friends before Bertie and Henry had to depart for their own responsibilities in business and the army.
*
As Mary and Tom settled into their hotel room, the reality of their marriage began to sink in. It was a situation neither of them had anticipated, and there was a mixture of emotions in the air. Tom broke the silence, sensing the need for an open and honest conversation.
"Mary," he began, "I think we should have a serious discussion. We are married now, but I don't think either of us expected to be married so early in life, let alone to each other."
Mary nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the uncertainty that hung in the air. "You're right, Tom. This is all so sudden."
"Though we have known each other for many months and have built a strong friendship," Tom continued, "I think it might be better for us to wait a little bit longer before we... consummate this marriage."
Mary felt a rush of relief mixed with a tinge of disappointment. She had expected the question of intimacy to arise but was glad that Tom was willing to tread cautiously. "I agree," she replied, her voice soft. "But not too long," she added with a playful smile, her cheeks flushing.
Tom blushed as well, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of tenderness and desire. "Indeed, not too long," he agreed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Mary shifted the conversation, recognizing the practicalities they needed to address. "We also have to think about getting me into the University of Leeds and resolving the issues with the stainless-steel process that you and Henry have been working on."
Tom nodded, his gaze becoming thoughtful. "In six months’, or maybe less, time, Henry and I will truly be ready to start the business," he explained. "Henry is using his contacts in the steel industry to find a steel producer who would take on our new steel alloy. I will begin canvassing manufacturers of lorries to see if I can interest them in the new stainless-steel exhausts that I am proposing."
Mary appreciated the direction of their conversation. It gave them a clear sense of purpose and a shared goal to work towards. "So, we have a plan," she affirmed.
Tom smiled warmly, feeling a sense of unity with Mary as they discussed their shared future. "Yes, Mary, we have a plan," he echoed.
With their conversation concluded for the night, they both prepared for bed, their minds filled with thoughts of the journey ahead. As they retired to their separate beds, they knew that the path they were on was uncertain but filled with possibilities.
With the lights out, Mary thought about the day and their life ahead. The prospect of moving to their new home, with the promise of a double bed, added an element of anticipation to their future. Mary blushed at the thought, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness about this aspect of married life. Smiling to herself she fell asleep.
Letters Home
Dear Lady Louise,
I trust this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. It has been far too long since our last exchange, and I apologize for the delay. Life has taken a rather unexpected and dramatic turn.
I am delighted to share with you that I have entered into a new phase of my life. Recently, I became united in matrimony with Lady Mary Crawley, the eldest daughter of my former employers, Lord and Lady Grantham. While the circumstances surrounding our marriage might raise eyebrows, we both remain resolute in our commitment to make the best of this union.
Our journey, which began with me as simply her tutor, has taken an unforeseen twist, leading us to this new chapter together. Lady Mary and I have known each other for quite some time, and our relationship has evolved in ways we could never have imagined when we first started to study together.
I do hope that you can understand and appreciate the complexities of our situation, which I am happy to discuss further in our next correspondence. I value the friendship we have cultivated through our letters and look forward to your thoughts and well-wishes.
Please accept my warmest regards, and I eagerly await the day when we can share stories and catch up on all that has transpired.
Yours sincerely,
Tom Branson
My Dearest Mrs. Green,
I hope this letter finds you well, and I trust you are in good health. I am writing to you with a heavy heart, burdened by the weight of the choices I have made. There is no easy way to say this, so I will be as honest as I can be.
I deeply regret to inform you of a series of events that have transpired recently, events that I am sure will disappoint and dismay you. As you may recall, I have been serving as Lady Mary Crawley's tutor for some time now. Our relationship, which started with noble intentions, took a path that neither of us could have foreseen.
Due to our secret association and a set of unfortunate circumstances, Lady Mary's reputation has suffered greatly. I must take full responsibility for my actions that led to this dire situation. I cannot express how ashamed I am of the choices I made, choices that have had such a devastating impact on an innocent young woman.
In an attempt to salvage Lady Mary's reputation and protect her future, we have taken a step that may come as a surprise to you. We are now married. It is a decision that was not made lightly, but one we felt was necessary given the circumstances. Please understand that this was not a matter of choice but a response to the damage that had already been done.
I am aware of the disappointment you must be feeling in me right now, and I can only say that I share in that disappointment. I cannot bring myself to write to Mr. Green, as I am equally ashamed of my actions in his eyes. I hope that, in time, you might find it in your heart to forgive me and understand the complexities of the situation we found ourselves in.
I will always cherish the lessons and values you instilled in me during my time with your family. I only wish I had adhered to them more steadfastly in this instance. Please know that my love and respect for you remain undiminished, and I pray that you can find it within you to forgive your wayward foster son.
With all my love and deepest regret,
Tom
My Dearest Tom,
Your letter brought both tears and solace to my heart. While I cannot deny the deep disappointment I initially felt upon learning of the situation, my love for you has always been unwavering, and it remains so. You are, and forever will be, my beloved son.
I want you to understand that your actions, though regrettable, do not define you entirely. We all make mistakes, and it is our ability to learn and grow from them that truly matters. In your heartfelt words and sincere remorse, I see a young man who is still guided by the values and principles instilled in him during his formative years.
I am grateful that you have found a way to protect Lady Mary's reputation and offer her a future of hope and dignity. She is now a part of our family, and I look forward to welcoming her with open arms. I hope to meet her soon and offer her the same love and support that you have known throughout your life.
As for Mr. Green, do not assume his heart is filled with anger or resentment. Yes, he may be disappointed, as any father would be when faced with the foibles of a beloved child. However, his love for you remains steadfast, and he, too, will continue to support you in his own way. Time has a way of healing wounds and mending bonds, and I have no doubt that, with time, your relationship will find its equilibrium once more.
You are still the son I am proud to call mine, and your past actions, though regrettable, do not diminish the love and pride I feel for you. Please take care of yourself and your new bride, and remember that you will always have a loving mother by your side.
With all my love and unending support,
Mother
Laundry Debacle
The unfamiliar weight of the wedding ring on Mary's finger served as a constant reminder of the unique marriage she had entered with Tom. It was a stark contrast to the aristocratic unions she had observed in her parents' lives, and Mary often found herself twisting the ring absently as she contemplated her new role.
Tom's promise of a housekeeper had brought some relief, but Mary was keenly aware of the other domestic duties that awaited her. They had been living in a hotel room for two weeks now, and their laundry had started to pile up. The task of handling outerwear was beyond her scope, but she felt confident in her ability to manage undergarments.
After Tom left to oversee the delivery of some of their furniture to the flat, Mary ventured out to the shops in search of soap and starch. Soap was self-explanatory, but the purpose of the starch remained somewhat mysterious. Nevertheless, she knew it was an essential part of laundry, thanks to Anna's frequent discussions about it.
Back at the hotel room, Mary filled the bath with hot water, carefully washed their undergarments, and blushed furiously as she handled her husband's most intimate garments. After a thorough wash and rinse, Mary turned her attention to the bag of starch. She opened it, peered inside, and found it resembled flour. Believing she was meant to use the entire bag, she added the contents to a basin of clean hot water, stirring the powder until it dissolved. Then, she added the washed clothes to soak.
With a sense of accomplishment, Mary wondered how long to leave the laundry to soak and decided on 20 minutes. There were wooden washstands in the bedroom, where clothes could be warmed in the morning. Mary added fuel to the fire and set up the stands, ringing out the clothes as best she could and hanging them to dry in front of the fire.
Her hands red from the labour, Mary thoroughly washed them and applied cream before sitting back, pleased with her domestic achievement. She eagerly awaited Tom's return.
When Tom arrived and the hotel room filled with the scent of freshly laundered clothes, Mary couldn't contain her excitement. "Look, Tom, I've washed our things," she announced with a beaming smile.
Tom looked surprised but thanked her, though he assured her she didn't need to wash his clothes. It was only when Mary went to check on the clothes for dryness that she discovered her well-intentioned efforts had resulted in stiff garments resembling cardboard. Dejectedly, she admitted her mistake.
Tom turned away, hiding a smile, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "How much did you use?" he asked gently. Mary confessed, "The whole bag."
Tom chuckled softly. "I think you're only meant to use a few teaspoons," he explained. "Besides, I was thinking of just using a weekly laundry service. That's what I did in university."
Mary considered this and suggested, "Maybe I'll write to Anna and ask her."
Tom joined in her amusement. "It will probably give her a good laugh," he remarked. Together, they shared a light-hearted moment, finding humour in Mary's laundry misadventure as they continued to navigate the intricacies of their new life together.
Meeting the Neighbours
Mary stood in the partly furnished drawing room on a damp October afternoon, overseeing the placement of the newly purchased furniture. Tom had introduced her to the exhilarating world of estate sales. While the actual viewing of the contents of the house or estate often carried a sense of melancholy, Mary found the bidding during the auctions thrilling. Tom, her trusty partner, accompanied her, and he had a knack for reining in her competitive nature when she was on the verge of exceeding their budget.
Despite the bittersweet circumstances of estate sales, Mary had managed to secure a full Wedgwood Dinner Set from their Fairyland Lustre collection, which delighted her. She had also acquired two comfortable plush wine-red wingback chairs that would frame the fireplace beautifully. The damask curtains, which she admired now, had been put up by Mr. Cartwright's workmen. Mary had chosen a pattern that reflected nature, with large, stylised leaves in various shades of green and hints of gold thread that would shimmer when caught by the light.
Her reverie was interrupted by a hearty knock at the door followed by a cheerful "Cooee!" Startled, Mary turned to find a short woman in her thirties standing in her doorway. Her hair was neatly done, and her cheeks were rosy. "Hello, Dearie. I'm your upstairs neighbour, Brenda Murphy," she introduced herself with a warm smile. Taken aback by the informal greeting, Mary replied a little stiffly, "I'm Lady Mary Branson."
Mrs. Murphy's eyes widened at Mary's title. "I've seen you and Mr. Branson come and go over the last couple of weeks, and I thought I would take this opportunity to introduce myself," she explained.
Mary smiled politely, unsure of the proper protocol in this situation. Her upbringing had taught her to be a gracious hostess, regardless of the circumstances. "I'm afraid I can't offer you any tea; we haven't received any supplies yet," Mary explained apologetically.
"No matter, dear," Mrs. Murphy replied. "I've just taken some sweet biscuits from the oven and put the kettle on for tea. If you'd like to come up?"
Mary agreed, and she followed Mrs. Murphy to the third floor. While Mary's sitting room and dining room were on the ground floor, Mrs. Murphy had a kitchen that opened up into the dining room. The stairs led up to the attic instead of down to a basement. The rooms were painted in a very pale yellow. "I know the fashion is to have dark walls, but I just can't abide it; it always makes me feel like the walls are closing in," she shared with a laugh.
Mary was directed to sit at the kitchen table while Mrs. Murphy bustled about making the tea. On the table, Mary noticed a notebook and various letter-writing materials spread out. Her curiosity piqued, she inquired about this setup.
Mrs. Murphy explained that it was her at-home business. She wrote letters for individuals who, for one reason or another, were unable to do so themselves. Mary found this endeavour intriguing.
Noticing some peculiar marks in the notebook, Mary asked, "What are these marks?"
"Oh, that's shorthand," Mrs. Murphy replied. "It's quite useful when taking dictation; it speeds things up a bit," she explained. "Mmmh! That might be useful for me. I'm planning to go to university next year," Mary revealed.
"Gosh! University! I've never met a woman who's been to university," Mrs. Murphy exclaimed.
As Mary and Mrs. Murphy continued to enjoy their biscuits and tea, they conversed about where Mary could learn shorthand. Mrs. Murphy suggested Mary obtain an instructional book from the library.
As Mary and Mrs. Murphy enjoyed their tea and biscuits, their conversation flowed naturally. Mrs. Murphy, with a warm smile, began to share a bit about her own childhood.
"Well, dearie, I was the middle child in my family," she began. "I had two older brothers and two younger ones, so if I wanted to play with them, I often had to join in their games." She chuckled at the memories.
"We were all quite fond of Jules Verne novels," she continued. "My father had a collection of them, and we would spend hours reading about adventures beneath the sea, trips to the moon, and voyages to the centre of the Earth. Those books sparked our imaginations."
Mary was intrigued and leaned in, "Did you play act the stories as well?"
Mrs. Murphy's eyes twinkled with nostalgia. "Oh, we most certainly did! We'd take turns being Captain Nemo or Phileas Fogg, and we'd explore imaginary worlds right in our own backyard. It was a wonderful way to bond with my brothers and create lasting memories."
Mary smiled warmly at the image Mrs. Murphy painted. "Your childhood sounds absolutely enchanting. It must have been so much fun."
Mrs. Murphy returned the smile. "And what about you, Lady Mary? Did you have any favourite childhood games or adventures?"
Mary thought back to her own early years with fondness. "I have two younger sisters, Edith and Sybil. We used to play all sorts of games together. We had a large dollhouse, and we'd create elaborate stories for our dolls. Sometimes we'd even put on little plays for our parents."
She paused for a moment, lost in the memories. "We also loved playing dress-up and pretending to be princesses or explorers. And, of course, there were the tea parties with our stuffed animals. It was a delightful time."
Mrs. Murphy nodded in understanding. "It sounds like you had your fair share of adventures as well. Childhood is such a magical time, isn't it?"
Mary agreed, her eyes glinting with nostalgia. "Indeed, it is. Those moments spent with family, filled with imagination and laughter, are some of the most precious memories."
As they continued to chat, Mary and Mrs. Murphy found common ground in their shared appreciation for the joys of childhood and the bonds created through play and imagination.
Their conversation flowed easily, and by the time they parted ways, Mary felt like she had made a new friend in her neighbour.
Arguments
As the day of the move drew nearer, Mary and Tom found themselves in an unexpected argument. It was a rare occurrence in their relationship, but it highlighted the clash of their different backgrounds and financial expectations.
They were in their hotel room, packing the last of their belongings. Mary had been excited about moving into their new home, but her enthusiasm had waned when she realised the limitations of their budget. She couldn't understand why she couldn't spend more freely, given that Tom had considerable income.
"Tom, I don't understand why we have to live like this," Mary began, frustration evident in her voice.
Tom, folding a shirt into their suitcase, looked up. "What do you mean, Mary?"
"I mean this frugal living, this strict budgeting," Mary replied, her brows furrowing. "You have money coming into this home, but you act like we're paupers."
Tom sighed, setting the shirt down. He knew this was a conversation they needed to have sooner or later. "Mary, it's not about acting like paupers. It's about being responsible. All the income we have right now is going into the business with Henry. We're reinvesting everything to make it successful."
Mary's frustration grew. "But we could still live comfortably while doing that. We don't have to be so... so tight-fisted with every penny."
Tom walked over to Mary, taking her hands in his. "I understand that this is an adjustment for you, Mary. But I need you to see the bigger picture. The business needs time to grow, and for the next few years, most of our earnings will go back into it. We have to be patient."
Mary pulled her hands away, turning to look out the window. "I just don't see why I can't have the things I'm used to. A ladies' maid, for instance. You have the money."
Tom knew this was going to be difficult. "Mary, I've explained this to you before. We have to be conservative with our spending. That money you're talking about is from my earnings as a tutor. It's not part of our business budget."
Mary turned to face him, her eyes flashing with frustration. "I thought we were building a life together, Tom. But it feels like I'm supposed to adapt to your way of living, while you get to keep your business and your money."
Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Mary, that's not fair. I never expected this situation either. I'm adjusting just as much as you are. But we have to be realistic and patient. The business is our future."
The argument left both of them emotionally drained. They were beginning to realise that their marriage required not only love and understanding but also compromise and adaptation to their different worlds and financial realities. As they continued to prepare for the move, they knew they had more challenges to face as a married couple.
Moving Day
The day had come for Mary to move into her new home, the place where she would begin a life shared with her husband, including the bed they would now occupy together. The nervous flutter in her chest was undeniable. She had never lain with a man before, and this new phase of her life filled her with anticipation and anxiety.
Mary had known Tom for many months, starting as an employer-chauffeur relationship and evolving into a genuine friendship. The intimacy they had developed over the past weeks, sharing a twin room in the hotel, had deepened their connection. Yet, even with this closeness, she had never seen her husband without some clothing on.
She couldn't deny the attraction she felt for him, an attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, tracing back to the days when she was a great Lady and he was her chauffeur. As nervous as she was, she found herself looking forward to fully sharing her life with Tom, embracing all that it entailed.
Shaking her head to free herself from these thoughts, Mary gathered the last of her belongings in the hotel room. She gave the room one more thorough scan to ensure nothing was left behind. Satisfied, she closed the door and made her way downstairs to meet her husband, ready to embark on this new chapter of her life.
*
As the night enveloped their new home, Mary and Tom found themselves in the intimacy of their bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm, comforting light across the room. It was their first night together as husband and wife in their new home, and the air was filled with both anticipation and a touch of nervousness.
Mary stood before the mirror, adjusting her nightgown, her reflection revealing a faint blush on her cheeks. Tom, equally aware of the significance of this night, sat on the edge of their shared bed, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Tom sensed her hesitation and gently took her hand. "Mary," he began, his voice soft and reassuring, "I want you to know that there's no pressure tonight. We can take all the time we need."
Mary smiled, appreciating his understanding. "Thank you, Tom," she replied, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “But I want to be a true wife to you and you to be a true husband to me,” Mary said honestly, pulling back the covers and climbing into their bed, giving her husband what she hoped were come hither eyes. It must have worked as Tom smiled at her and followed her into the bed.
They exchanged words, whispered promises of a future together, and shared dreams of what lay ahead. Their connection, once forged through friendship and mutual respect, had now deepened into something more. It was a moment of tenderness and understanding, where words weren't always necessary.
In the privacy of their bedroom, they began this new journey as a married couple, a journey filled with both the joys and challenges that life had to offer. With a final exchange of loving glances, they extinguished the lamp, surrendering to the embrace of the night, eager to face their shared future together.