Matthew Crawley - Tumblr Posts
When I say I hate all men this is the only exception
Welcome to the reason for my bisexuality
no but honestly who had the brilliant idea of killing Matthew right after his son was born
OMG YESSS. I’VE LITERALLY BEEN THINKING ABOUT HIM ALL DAY YESTERDAY for the first time in YEARS. 12 year old me was IN LOVE with Matthew Crawley (and Mary lol), you don’t understand the hold they had on me 😭🫠🥰
damn i love rich bisexual edwardian blond matthews
Beautiful edit and a decade later I am still not over Matthew Crawley's death. Talk about timeless.
"Hundreds of years ago they fell in love like we did." TIMELESS by Taylor Swift
Thomas/Matthew edit inspired by My Sin Was Loving You -fic written by @BlackShawFriar on AO3 💕
I was doing So Well with my rewatch and then I listened to half a Dan Stevens podcast and was like "oh fuck I miss Matthew Crawley" and now I'm watching the flower show 🤭
Short Mary & Matthew ficlet #2
Prompt: Matthew tells Mary the truth about Gregson
"He's married?!"
"Yes."
"And he's after Edith?!"
"Yes."
"And his wife is in an insane asylum?"
"Yes."
Matthew looked at his wife and for the first time in a long while, he couldn't read her. There was a thunderous look on her face, but he wasn't certain if it was anger, or indignation, or just the shock of what he'd jus revealed to her about Mr Gregson's situation as it relates to Edith. God knows Matthew had a hard time accepting the man's story and he'd heard it come out of him in a stream of regret (and delusion) that couldn't have been manufactured. And had no reason to be so, really.
Mary was still lost in her head, and he took her hand in his. She'd only given birth a week ago, maybe he shouldn't have told her just yet, why upset her over Edith's troubles?
"You know of course that I'll look out for her? We can handle this ourselves because obviously we can't tell your father.
"Lord no."
Matthew nodded "He'll give himself a heart attack. Or find a way to get Gregson murdered." He offered as reassurance, hoping to get her to relax against him as she had before.
"Like in a house fire?" were the words that came out of Mary's mouth, and Matthew frowned.
"What do you mean?"
She turned to him, suddenly a mirthful look in her eyes, curls framing her face so beautifully he had a hard time remembering why exactly they were talking about this in bed when they should be curled up like kittens. He was completely lost in his sappy thoughts when Mary spoke:
"Darling. Please. Tell me you've noticed the resemblance."
"What resemblance?"
"The tragic man. With the demented wife. Trying to get an unmarried woman to involve herself with him. My father seeking revenge with a burning passion."
He was sure she could see him connecting the dots in his head because she suddenly burst out laughing, and he had to cover his face with his hands. Because of course. Of course.
He let her calm herself down, and couldn't help the smirk on his face throughout, but once she settled again he gently reminded her of the seriousness of the situation "Darling please. Don't... mention this to Edith. We'll have enough trouble persuading her to drop him as it is."
"Without her seeing herself as the tragic heroine of a romance novel, you mean?"
He heard himself laugh and instantly regretted it, because it set off Mary's laughter.
"You mustn't joke." He was a hypocrite and he knew it. He was laughing himself.
"I know. Which is why, darling, you have to make excuses for me tomorrow."
"What do you mean?"
"I cannot possibly come downstairs to greet him. I don't know if it's the baby, but I'm feeling quite overwhelmed. I might laugh in his face! Or call him Mr Rochester by mistake."
Matthew huffed "Do you know after this conversation I might have the same problem."
Mary shook her head "God. We need a good reason. Maybe George was colicky and kept us up all night."
"You want to use our son as an excuse?!"
"He has to start pulling his weight, Matthew! He'll be Lord Grantham one day, I'm sure he'll understand."
"Well. You're nursing, so you can't be separate from him for long."
"No, of course not."
"And I'm devoted to you, so I wouldn't leave you to deal with a crying baby on your own."
"Absolutely not."
"Well then. I think your parents will have to deal with Mr Rochester by themselves tomorrow."
He did manage to get her to relax and go to sleep. After another round of giggles.
And with Lavinia - and - Carlisle, Right There 👏
matthew calling mary “my dear” while they were exes has me screaming crying throwing up
Short Mary & Matthew ficlet #3
Prompt: Matthew, Lavinia, and Mary attend a dinner party in London during the war
"So, will you come?"
"Come where?"
Rosamund watched her niece and Matthew almost jump apart and turn to face her as she walked up to their corner of the drawing room. She'd noticed them deep in conversation, their heads close together, practically ignoring every other one of her guests in favour of each other's company. She liked Matthew well enough, even if Mary's clear fascination with the boy was beyond her.
"I've asked Mary if she'd like to join us for a dinner party, at my General's home in Kensington. There are a few of us on leave and I suppose he'd like to uplift people's spirits. There should be some dancing after as well"
"Very fashionable" commented Rosamund, looking at Mary, who rolled her eyes at her aunt, before responding with a smile
"Fine. If you don't mind me missing your gathering that evening, I'll go. Although I don't see what my presence would contribute."
"Isn't being there as a familiar face for poor old me enough of a contribution?"
"Won't you know some of the officers there?"
"Yes, but I don't particularly like most of them."
"Sounds promising. But won't Lavinia and her father attend as well?"
"Fine. Attend as the Crawley in command. Some people from Mr Swire's circle have questions about my family tree and I have no real answers for them."
"Well, if it's to uphold the honour of the family name, how can I refuse."
Rosamund watched their back and forth with no small amount of fascination. They seemed unaware of the fact that their comments were said in quite a flirtatious manner. She made a note to herself to warn her niece. It would not do for Sir Richard to become aware of just how attached she still was to her old beau.
Still, she could see Mary's trepidation, and advised her, on the day before the planned dinner party. "You had better show up in absolute splendor my dear. Borrow something of mine if you'd like."
"But why? I'm not attending a royal ball. And it's only in Kensington, I doubt there'll be anyone we know there." Mary had to swallow back a comment on how fortunate that was, given what the London society that did know her, thought of her.
"It doesn't matter. It's the principle of the thing. We won't have that little wallflower outshine you at a dinner party. Absolutely not. No, you'll dress up properly. If Matthew's so happy with his choice he shouldn't mind you stealing every other male gaze in the room."
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Matthew wasn't sure what he was feeling when Mary's name was announced at Gordon Place. Most heads turned at the word "Lady" and those that didn't soon followed suit, gawking at Mary in an evening gown worthy of a princess, wine red with gold details, a sheer fabric over her shoulders and a deep cut in the back that showed off her luminous skin and made his throat feel quite dry.
Mr Swire was practically glowing with pride, leading her in the drawing room ahead of himself and Lavinia, Mr Swire having been the one trusted by her aunt with her care (and Matthew had to bite his tongue as to not exclaim that he was perfectly capable of looking after Mary, only to realise that no, actually, he was not in a position to make such claims).
They served cocktails before dinner, and he found himself being greeted by every single officer in the room that knew him (most of whom wouldn't have paid him any mind in any other gatherings he'd attended in the past), all of their eyes leading from his to Mary's in their obvious attempts at an introduction. Matthew bit his tongue yet again, and wondered why on earth he'd thought this was a good idea.
He answered his own question: any time spent in Mary's company was a good time. That fact was reiterated when he met her gaze over a small gathering of her admirers, and chuckled at the almost imperceptible way she rolled her head in clear Mary exasperation.
"What's so funny?"
He startled, and turned to look at Lavinia, who was watching him with a soft smile.
"Oh nothing, just… Mary being Mary."
He left her to the good company of one of her friends, a Miss Amelia Crawford, and joined his General in conversation.
Miss Crawford looked at her friend, who was watching her fiance with obvious affection, and couldn't help herself. "What does that mean?"
Lavinia turned her gaze to her "What does what mean?"
"Mary being Mary."
Lavinia looked back to her fiance, laughing with some of the senior officers but every once in a while looking across the room, meeting Mary's gaze as they smiled to each other, before turning back to their respective conversations.
She didn't dare look back to her friend as she replied honestly "Do you know, I don't really know."
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He was glad he had had the presence of mind to ask her to dance the second dance with him in the car before they ever left Belgravia. She'd have to claim an injury to sit even one of them out. She was dancing the first with Reggie, and as Matthew was twirling around the room with Lavinia he couldn't help it that his gaze would inevitable fall on Mary. She was the picture of grace and elegance, and he couldn't lose her in the crowd even if he tried (he didn't try).
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Miss Crawford watched. She was in the lucky position to be an engaged woman in a city where the male population was ever dwindling, and she didn't mind claiming fatigue, and letting the other girls in attendance try their luck at securing the hands of the few unattached officers in the room. This gave her the time, and the space, to truly watch her friend's intended. And the more she saw, the more alarmed she grew.
It should have been obvious to anyone with eyes, but Amelia didn't think anyone paying any attention.
Matthew Crawley, was in love with his cousin.
Amelia wasn't certain at first if she loved him back. Lady Mary had been difficult to pin down, her expression always a perfect mask of politeness, her speech and presence too well trained in the art of social etiquette, unfalteringly impassive.
But when Mr Crawley led her to the dance floor, his hand so gently leading hers to his shoulder before grasping her waist as if it were something precious, Lady Mary transformed. They both did. They were dancing as if they were one person, practically gliding on the floor, their bodies leading them through the crowd with an ease and an assurance that should only come with years of practice but that seemed to come naturally to them. A feat doubled in its brilliance by the fact that their eyes remained locked together for most of the dance.
Could anyone hold another person's gaze for that long? They even held a steady stream of conversation, sending each other glowing smiles, and sometimes when Mr Crawley spoke to Lady Mary, he'd bring her body ever so slightly closer to his, lean his head forward as if to whisper in her ear, his face turning towards her like he was sharing a secret (and did his nose brush against her hair that one time? How could that be possible?).
Amelia thought his behaviour indecent. His fiancee, her good friend, was dancing with her father on the same floor, and Matthew Crawley was flirting with his cousin. She was undecided on whether or not to mention it to Lavinia. She wondered how it would be possible for her not to know, when he was so obvious in his attentions.
She made up her mind when she watched, her mouth dropping in shock, as he led Lady Mary to the side of the room once the dance was finished, his hand still on her back, his fingers very deliberately brushing the very edge of her dress, where the skin of her back was exposed, before moving away entirely. Lady Mary didn't react, she might not have even realised it had happened, but Amelia saw it, and was not happy.
She had to tell Lavinia.
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"I don't know what to think. Everyone in Yorkshire seems indifferent to it, like it's perfectly normal for them to be so… invested in each other's company. And maybe to their sort of people it is? Who else considers a fourth cousin twice removed to be family?"
Amelia shook her head "Yes, but doesn't it trouble you, that he'd behave so even as he's engaged to you?"
Lavinia shrugged, imperceptively, but her eyes were troubled "Matthew always spoke of her with fondness. He would tell me stories about how Mary would exceel at the hunt and some of the men would blame her skill on her "half-American blood" and she'd cuttingly tell them their lackthereof was probably a result of inbreeding."
Amelia's eyes grew as wide as saucers at the boldness of that statement, but as she took in the woman herself, deftly sending a herd of men on their merry way before her cousin turned to speak to her, she realised she could picture this woman being that audacious.
"And? Is that all?"
Lavinia looked away again, her eyes firmly on the floor as her fingers tangled and detangled in clear agitation. "Well, there is one more thing?"
Amelia waited for her friend to look back up, and prompted her along with her gaze.
"While I was in Yorkshire I… overheard talks from people. They said…"
"What did they say?"
"They said that Matthew had proposed marriage, to Mary. Before the war."
Amelia had been fanning herself in agitation, but she immediately stopped. Completely shocked at that statement.
"I heard that Mary took too long to respond, and he withdrew his proposal. And then the war happened and, well…"
They both turned to look at the people in question. They were now standing alone in the corner of the room, in deep conversation, both of them quite relaxed in each others company. Laughing together.
Lavinia looked back to her "You see it too, don't you?"
Her friend's eyes were incredibly sad and they broke Amelia's heart. But she knew, hiding from the truth never helped anyone.
"You need to talk to him. And soon. This won't work if he's still in love with her."
Lavinia nodded "You think he is. Don't you."
Amelia shook her head, unwilling to voice her opinion, but Lavinia understood all the same. She watched as one of the officers came to claim his dance, Lavinia offering a melacholic smile as she was led to the middle of the room.
Amelia watched her friend, and let out a long breath. Hopefully Mr Crawley would be honest with himself, and her, otherwise they were all doomed for a lifetime of misery.
Short Mary & Matthew ficlet #4
Prompt: Matthew recognises how much Mary supported him during his injury (with a lot some pushing from Isobel)
This one is Long. It took him a while.
Isobel was standing by the window in the library, a cup of tea in her hands, watching Matthew and Lavinia in the gardens below. Lavinia's mouth was forming words, gesturing excitedly, but Matthew was still and silent. He turned his face up towards the sky, and closed his eyes when Lavinia was looking the other way.
It was a sunny day. Maybe the sun would do him good. Shine through the shadows in his mind.
She felt someone stand next to her, and turned to see Mary with her own cup, looking out at the scene below. She found Mary to be a hard person, when she first met her. Now she knew the only thing hard about the young woman was the shell around her heart. It only made her wonder how much she hurt, how many wounds the world had inflicted on her before she shut herself away from it.
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"Why don't I ask Carson to get us some sandwiches? You didn't eat much at lunch, did you not like it?"
"It was perfectly pleasant."
Lavinia frowned, but seemed to come to a quick decision. "Well. I'll ring for the sandwiches all the same."
Matthew didn't reply.
Carson was very prompt.
Cheese crackers with orange mascarpone and cucumber salmon squares. Matthew bit into one impassively. Lavinia looked on encouragingly.
Isobel frowned. He always preferred a sweet scone with afternoon tea. Maybe he preferred something lighter now.
He wasn't going anywhere after all, where would all that sugar go. The bitter thought hit her like a punch in the stomach and she had to ask to be excused.
Matthew didn't return her kiss goodbye.
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"How was he today? I was needed at the hospital, and only got back a few hours ago." Isobel was bone weary and not just from the long day. Watching her child turn into a shadow of himself really took it out of her, it seemed.
"Oh, much the same. We got to take a turn in the gardens but-"
Isobel noticed the girl frown. Oh, maybe, maybe he finally talked to her. "What is it?"
Lavinia shook her head "I think I made Mary rather cross with me."
"Goodness. What happened?"
"I didn't think, I got Matthew a blanket for the cold. But it had snowed and the blanket was long and- he wouldn't know."
Isobel frowned. No. No he wouldn't know if his legs were wet and frozen. Her hands tightened on her cup and she had to leave it back on the tray, her fingers tightening on her lap under the table.
"How was Matthew, was he upset?"
Lavinia smiled then "No! Not at all. He was kind, he didn't say anything, even though it was so stupid of me. I'll know better next time."
Isobel smiled kindly to the girl, even as her heart was breaking for her son. They'd won the war, but he certainly came back from it defeated.
"I'm sure you will, my dear."
Lavinia was still biting her lower lip "I think Mary was really upset."
Isobel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Certainly, Mary Crawley would be upset. Her attentiveness and skill when she'd been taking care of Matthew would have been the envy of an army hospital.
Molesley came in to take the tea trays, and Isobel offered her future daughter-in-law another smile. "I shouldn't worry too much. I'm sure Mary… kept it all under control. And she forgives. She might bite, but she forgives. Too much like her grandmother, that girl."
She got a laugh out of Lavinia with that comment, and the girl seemed to relax.
Isobel didn't want to but the image came to her mind anyway. Mary with that fury of the Crawley line swirling in her eyes in that contained way of hers, as she took in Matthew's shoulders hunched in shame, Lavinia fumbling with the blanket, a stream of apologies as she waited for a footman to come and sort it out.
Isobel was lost in thought and didn't realise Lavinia was speaking again "… she didn't stay. I don't know if it was because I made her angry or… I think seeing Matthew like that might be upsetting for her. She's always so polite, but she never stays long if we're in a room."
Isobel nodded, absentmindedly. No. Mary wouldn't stand by and watch any of that.
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"I was reading that."
"Well, you took too long, now I'm reading it."
"You must be joking?"
"You can't just monopolise the latest Montgomery, Matthew. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other and you seem to need as much to make friends with Anne of Green Gables. It might just be that you don't like each other."
Isobel watched from over her needlework. Matthew seemed put out, but his shoulders were relaxed. His index finger lightly tapping the arm of his chair. Like he was thinking.
"Are you friends with her then? Were seven days sufficient for you two?"
Mary lifted an imperious brow, and pointedly turned the page of the book she was holding. "Of a kind. I was a bit too old for it when the first one came out. But Sybil loved them and made me read the whole book to her."
"And now?"
Mary shrugged "It's rude not to greet an old friend when they visit."
Matthew chuckled and Isobel looked up at the sound, her heart pounding, only to see him turn his face down, and cover his eyes with his hand, rubbing his forehead. Tired. She watched Mary also sneak peaks at him from over her book, her dark eyes reading him more than the words on the page. She hid herself behind the book again, before she spoke:
"I can read it to you, if you'd like."
Matthew looked up, peeved. "I'm not a child."
She turned her eyes back to him, the imperious look back. "Of course not. But we must find some compromise, I'm not just handing this over you know."
"God forbid."
Isobel watched as they stared at each other. Matthew's finger was still tapping the arm of his chair.
"How about… I read it to you?"
Mary smirked, and offered him the book. Matthew smiled as he opened it, and Isobel could cry. He turned to the first page-
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"How nice, that I finally get you to myself. A rare gift these days!"
Matthew offered her a small smile, and Isobel could live with that.
"Where are they all anyway?" she asked him, trying to engage him in some conversation as she took a sip of her tea.
"Robert has a meeting with the tenants. Edith and Sybil are in Ripon. You know of course Lavinia's gone to London to sort out some errands for Reggie."
Isobel nodded. Of course she knew that. The girl stayed with her after all. "And Mary?"
Matthew looked out the window. They had a lot of rain after days of snow, and the mud was making it very hard for him to go anywhere. Not that he seemed to mind, even if he wouldn't look at her now, a frown on his face as he watched the world outside. "She's over at Haxby. Richard came around he probably… added one horrid thing or other to the place that he wanted to share with her."
Isobel tried to move past the tone of bitterness in his voice, as much as it hurt her to do so. God knew which of all the things mentioned would be making him bitter. She placed her cup back on its saucer. She'd have to drag it out of him, whatever it was, because he wasn't willingly sharing the things that hurt him with her. Not anymore. "She must be somewhat excited, to see the place she'll call home come to life." she pushed on.
"Downton will always be Mary's home."
The answer was immediate. And final.
Isobel wished she could give her son a nice shake. "Of course. But she'll live there, what does she say, what's it like?"
"Big."
She waited, expecting some explanation.
Matthew gave a short laugh then, and turned to her, lifting his eyebrow in perfect imitation of Mary "Really. It's just big."
Isobel watched as he chuckled to himself, his eyes lost in memory.
Goodness. It was perhaps, more complicated than she thought.
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Isobel wept the night she saw her son standing on his own two feet again. She got home, and kneeled next to her bed, and thanked God in prayer like she hadn't done since she had been a little girl. Her son. Her boy would get his life back.
It had been a few weeks since then. Matthew hadn't moved back home yet but it was only a matter of time. Isobel visited every day, even though it was a flurry of activity there, and the kind of activity that tended to be tiresome.
Some of it was inescapable, like the wedding preparations, but then a maid was hired, or one of the old footmen wouldn't leave and there was a baby in the dining room but nobody seemed to know how he got there or what to do about it, and Isobel couldn't wait to get back to the village where people had normal problems.
She had thought, now that Matthew's whole life was ahead of him once again, and his brooding moods had returned, so would his assertiveness and confidence.
Instead he was often lost in thought, plastering on a smile when he caught someone watching him. More alarming still, he was quite withdrawn as they sat in the drawing room, to discuss some wedding plans, putting on that same smile whenever Lavinia or anyone else asked a question, but always answering with some variation of "Whatever you think is best, I truly don't mind."
Isobel listened to the girl, and made as many contributions as she could, along with Cora and Edith, who had been taking tea with them and discussing plans, Lavinia's excitement being quite nice to see.
They were talking about flower arrangements when she turned to Cora "Do you think Mary could help me pick the bouquets for the bridesmaids? I'm not sure which flowers to choose from, and she knew quite a lot about them when we walked about the garden a few times."
Cora looked lost for words for a moment "Oh… perhaps, why don't you ask her? I know she's got a lot on now, with Haxby, and her own wedding to plan-"
"Plus Mary won't lift a finger for things that don't involve her - like someone else's wedding" added Edith.
Isobel heard Cora's tut at the comment, but she felt a strong, almost maternal, urge to defend the girl. "Well. I for one am incredibly grateful to her, for how she cared for Matthew when he first came back, and I wasn't here to look after him. Even though it didn't involve her."
She watched Lavinia's puzzled expression, and wanted to tut at her own son who was focusing on staring at the carpet, his face pale.
"Did Mary really look after you, back then?" Lavinia asked, very kindly.
Matthew tightened his hand on his walking stick, and swallowed visibly, all the women staring at him intently. Eventually he shook his head a rough smirk on his face, his eyes troubled "You know Mary. She won't miss a chance to push someone around."
He got a chuckle out of Edith for that comment, and Isobel was about to reprimand him when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and looked up to see Mary standing at the other end of the room, having walked through the open door, unobserved.
Isobel's hands tightened on her tea cup as Cora greeted her eldest daughter, who was walking towards them, handbag still clutched in her hands in front of her stomach, like a physical shield.
Isobel saw whatever colour was on Matthew's face leave it as he whipped his head around to stare at the object of their conversation.
Mary spoke before anyone could utter another word "Please. Don't let me disturb you I just wanted to say hello. I'm quite dusty from the trip, I think I should like to change."
Cora nodded, eagerly agreeing "Why don't you ask Anna to run you a bath darling? It's been a long day."
"Yes, I think I shall."
Isobel saw her look at Matthew, very fleetingly, before she steeled her spine and turned, walking out of the room through the same door.
Isobel did not need to wonder why Matthew didn't speak another word for the rest of the visit.
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Matthew's foul mood persisted. For days. He'd finally moved back to Crawley House, but it didn't make any difference.
Isobel watched him stew in his misery and for once, she let him stew. He deserved it. Mary was being perfectly polite at dinners and visits. But Isobel doubted he managed to have even a moment alone with her. Maybe he finally realised that Mary Crawley did not just spend hours on end keeping a man company to lift his spirits because she had nothing better to do.
Lavinia had gone up to London for some wedding shopping, and Isobel was having breakfast with her son, as normal, for the first time in almost a year. It would have been perfect if he hadn't spent most of his time huffing behind his newspaper.
"You could just apologise, you know."
"Mother…"
"Don't "mother" me. I'm tired of your moping. Surely you can give the woman an apology, it can't be that hard. She's your friend-"
This time, a pained laughter came from behind the newspaper, and Isobel looked up. Matthew dropped the newspaper and got up, grabbing his walking stick and pacing to the window.
"If I start apologising to Mary I shall be at it for days."
"Why is that?"
"Please, mother, stop pushing. You wouldn't understand."
"Won't I? Might it have anything to do with your distinct lack of enthusiasm for your own wedding?"
Matthew turned to her, a frightened expression on his face.
"Or might it have to do with the amount of care Mary showed you, above and beyond that of even a dedicated nurse? Washing you, with Sybil. Sitting by your bedside throughout your stay at the hospital. Being there through your examinations. Being the one to break the news of you injury, of William's death. You think Dr Clarkson wouldn't give me all the details of your stay? That I wouldn't ask?"
She watched him pace in misery, and she let him wallow as she continued "… Or do you think I'd forget finding her cleaning your vomit and telling you everything would be alright? Perhaps you thought that was normal behaviour for a distant relation, I'm surprised you didn't expect Edith or Cora to do the same."
"Stop. Enough. I know this, of course I know."
"Good. Then maybe go and tell her why you told none of this to Lavinia. Or why you told Lavinia nothing of your retracted proposal to Mary, all those years ago, something that should be old history by now, shouldn't it? Instead letting Lavinia expect the poor woman to help plan your wedding."
Matthew shook his head "I wouldn't- I didn't expect-"
Isobel didn't let him misdirect her "… Or perhaps you'd like to not talk about Mary, and focus on you a little more."
Matthew covered his face with one hand, but Isobel had had enough. "Lets talk about why you only felt safe to take out your anger on Mary, and be so beastly to her, because Mary will forgive you anything, won't she? And she will put up with the moods you won't share with Lavinia. Lavinia who you will let mother you more than you've ever allowed anyone, even me, since you left the nursery. And I don't know if that should make me worry, or make me happy- that you'd allow that kind of care."
Her son's face was stricken. Isobel persisted. "But I do worry. Because it's not Lavinia that you can laugh with. Or laugh for. Even in your darkest moments. Is it? And I know you normally like an argument, my boy. So tell me. What are you doing?"
She could see his eyes flood with tears, and it broke her heart all over again. "I'm just trying to do the right thing, mother. That's all I ever wanted to do."
Isobel nodded. She knew this already. "But what is the right thing to do in this situation, Matthew?"
He shook his head, and dropped back on the chair heavily. "I'll go to the Abbey after breakfast. I'll apologise."
Isobel let out a breath. It was a start.
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He did go to the Abbey after breakfast. But he didn't apologise.
Isobel watched him find the courage to talk every morning, and then come back empty handed. Either saying that Mary was out, or nothing at all, just shutting himself in the library and not coming out until dinner.
She had to go to the Abbey herself a few days later, hoping to discuss some hospital matters with Cora. Carson informed her that lady Grantham was visiting the dowager countess, but she'd be back soon, so Isobel found herself sat in the library, with a cup of tea, when she heard footsteps behind her.
"… time to stop harassing Carson, I doubt there's anything that significant you wish to speak to me about."
"Stop punishing me Mary, you know there is."
Isobel found herself frozen still. They hadn't seen her, the back of the armchair covering her perfectly. If she made herself known it was possible that they would postpone the conversation to the next century. But if they saw her later… Isobel decided it was a risk she was willing to take.
"Fine. Tell me now, what is it."
Isobel heard her son huff, and could practically picture the annoyance mixing with guilt in his expression "I want to apologise. For what you overheard. It wasn't true."
"I know. It's fine. There's no need for you to apologise."
"It's not fine! Mary-"
"I didn't do anything expecting thanks, Matthew. I don't care what anyone thinks about it. Including you. All I wanted was for you to get better, and you did, so stop with your moping."
Mary sounded tired. Incredibly so. Isobel frowned, and wondered for a moment if she had anyone in her corner. Isobel had finally managed to get through to Matthew, to try and help him untangle his life. She thought of Mary and Sir Richard, and wondered.
Matthew might have seen the same weariness, because he spoke more calmly "I'm still sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve it."
"Fine. Apology accepted. Happy now?"
"…happi-er. Does that count?"
Isobel heard Mary chuckle "I'm the wrong person to ask."
Cora's voice came in through the hall then, and they seemed to find themselves out of time, walking out to greet her.
Isobel quickly picked up her cup and moved across the room, going through the door to the small library. If Carson found her transfer strange as he led Cora to her a moment later, he didn't mention anything about it.
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"So. Did you make things right?"
Matthew looked up from his book as she walked into the drawing room at Crawley House that evening. Her talk with Cora took longer than expected.
"It's not like you to gossip this much mother."
"I don't think of my care for your wellbeing as gossip."
Matthew looked at her, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before he turned back to his book without another word.
Well. That was an improvement. "Any words of wisdom from your readings?" She said, dropping the topic for now as she took a seat across from him. He was healthy, and he was here. Everything else would sort itself out.
Matthew didn't miss a beat, turning a page and offering a quote "My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes."
Oh dear. There was so much more work to be done.
It took a while to shoot the scene by the coconut stall at the fun fair, so Michelle and I had a competition. I think she beat me 10-1 - she was uncannily good.
-Dan Stevens
New fic is up!
Sic!Fic from a prompt. Enjoy, it's angst-y with a happy ending. Second (and final) chapter will be up next week :)
Chapter 2/2 of Sic!Mary fic is up!
Bit of angst, tons of fluff, the usual deal xD
My first multi-chapter story on FanFiction.Net- a John Bates and Anna Smith Great British Bake Off AU!!! I have a few chapters already posted and am slowly writing more. I’m so excited about this universe and it’s been so fun to imagine and write so far. I hope to post more collages/mood boards and headcanons as the story moves on.
Always feel free to comment or message me on here or FF (also @lilagrae) to chat or throw an HC my way!!
Thomas absolutely had a crush or at least vague interest in Matthew during the war
Thank you everyone
So, a Hogwarts AU fanart for Lady Mary and Matthew Crawley.
Lady Mary and Matthew Crawley❤️❤️
Actually when I found Lady Mary’s fandom page is not “Mary Crawley” anymore but “Mary Talbot”, I was shocked lol.
I was so used to the “Crawley”, I didn’t realize that women will change their surname after they get married. Mary Talbot sounds a bit weird for me, honestly 🤣
My grandma has double-surname combine with both her and her husband’s, married women in that period do so in my country, but we don’t do that anymore now. By the way, sometimes marriage between two same surnames families is forbidden, not for law but for some cultural customs reasons. That’s some marriage culture in Taiwan, how about your country? Do women changing their surname or adding their husband’s name after they get married? I like to learn more about different cultures and make new friends 😇
I've been taking a lot of "Which Downton Character are you?" quiz these days. I'll post the results of those soon. This one is not a quiz but apparently I'm Matthew Crawley.
I'll take it... but based on the little descriptions below each personality type I think I'm Edith.
What's yours?
PS. Thomas is described so positively here! He is not evil he just has unconventional ways to get ahead!
