Mary looked at him openly then, unsure how to step back from that obvious finality to everyone else.

Everyone had stopped eating, or had quietly finished. The rest of the meal forgotten by those in the room. At some point the rest of the staff had tip toed in, waiting behind the screen ready to start clearing the dishes. Waiting and watching this extraordinary scene before them. Anna held her hand to her lips, knowing exactly what was playing out. Her heart skipped more than a beat. Was this it?

The air crackled and the silence only held a swish of soft wings. Mary had to pick up her wine glass for the first time that night to take a couple of sips. Refreshing it was not, but it wet her lips.

So it was with the determined look of a future Earl that Matthew straightened in his chair, flanked by his mother and the Dowager Countess that he spoke across the room, head held high, to Carson standing in the wings.

"Carson,"

"Yes milord" He had to shake himself out of the spell. He stepped forward eagerly, waiting…

"Carson, could you please pass what is on the mantle place to Lady Mary."

"Yes, milord."

Are you ready? His eyes danced with light and love as he watched her.

Her eyes of shade widened with surprise. Mary had not expected this, had no idea at this play of events.

Breathe.

Carson moved behind her to the mantle. What was there and when had he placed it in such an open position? She couldn't turn around in her seat, that would be deemed unladylike. So she gazed across to Matthew, her face full of questions. All she saw was his teasing smile. It covered his whole face and he lent forward over his plate, arms on the table and clasped his hands together.

Breathe.

Everyone had their eyes on what Carson was retrieving. Something small obscured by his big hands. And as he set it down in front of Mary, she thought that she saw his hands tremble. In one swift motion he had placed a small soft blue ring box in front of her and taken her plate with the unfinished meal still upon it.

Her mother and Isobel both gasped. Robert hummed at the back of his throat, Cora raised a hand to cover her mouth and Violet softly thumped her walking stick on the ground twice. They waited silently, straining not to be the one to break the spell.

The ring box had the kind of velvet that was rich in texture and quality. It had once come from a very fine jeweller. It was worn in patches, along a couple of the edges and on the bottom. It did not look old in relation to an heirloom, more from being rubbed by being against something for a long time.

Mary had not touched it. Her heart beat as loud as thunder and the air shifted again near her ears as she felt the butterflies close by.

Breathe.

It has waited a long time for you.

"So are you really going to America?" Matthew's voice was low with intent. Her long fingers laid so close to the box, folded over one another. A couple twitched aching to open it.

"Hmmmm" What did he say? The words rang a memory, but some small way they were different.

"I thought, seeing as we are such good friends and you are leaving Downton for the foreseeable future, that I would give you a memento. A token as such, to remember me by." He looked at his glass as he picked it up, playing down the importance of such a gesture. He sipped the wine, a long deliberate drink. He placed it back on the table but his fingers played with the stem of the glass. Toying with it.

"And you did not think that perhaps a handkerchief for my homesick tears or a classic book of Greek literature more fitting for the occasion?"

Thrust… but it fell flat.

He wanted to show everyone, more notably Mary herself how utterly loved and adored she was. This was her moment; they had already had theirs in the snow after the Servants Ball. This was for all intents and purposes as much to hold up his end of the game they played as it was to share this joy of theirs with her family.

Are you ready?

"There is absolutely nothing more fitting than what is in that box for this occasion." There was a crisp sincerity that rang in his voice. She felt rather than heard his response.

His mother turned and smiled at her son. He had fought for her. He had won. My darling Boy.

Robert turned in his chair slightly and looked with the pride of only a father could at his most beloved children. Here was a brave man. The man he had dared not hope that would love his daughter.

They only had eyes for each other. The light and the shade. He raised his brows prompting her to open the box. He wanted to see her reaction. His heart had been in that box for years, since before the first time he had proposed to her. 1914 seemed like a lifetime ago.

Mary slowly reached her top hand over the velvet of the box. She caressed the worn edges with reverence, knowing and yet wondering where it been and what it had seen. The blue was softer than Matthew's eyes, a shade perhaps of when he first woke in the morning, with dreams still clouding his sight.

She lifted the box, cupping it with her left hand and the long fingers on the right slowly opened the lid. There lay in the folds a delicate band of white gold with a clear cut diamond with a heart of blue. Even in the almost candle light of the dining room it caught and flung shafts of rainbow light. It was not a small diamond, and not as garish as the gems that Sir Carlisle had thrust on her hand.

Her hand rose in surprise up to her mouth, covering any possibilities of a cry. And her eyes shot up to meet Matthews with such adoration and delight as he had never seen cross her face before. He thought at that moment she would have flung herself across the top of the dining room table to wrap her arm around him. He would have welcomed her with open arms. Not tonight!

He saw her posture shift, drawing up her shoulders and a wicked twinkle in her eye. Her chin tilted and her eyebrows arched. Oh, she had not finished with him yet! And so he waited.

"A memento you say," as she slowly grasped the ring and drew it out of the box. Her voice coy, retrieving an echo of their early days around the table, as she started to try the ring on her each of her fingers on her right hand, with no success in getting it over her knuckles. "A good friend indeed!" Her voice was mocking, a tease to his audacity.

She turned to her left hand. Held it up so that all eyes could see the show. She dared not think what would happen if it didn't fit.

Matthew smiled, he knew. And waited. He was ready.

Are you ready, My Love?

The question lay amongst the decorations, the candles, the salt and pepper shakers, the used plates and all their past stolen glances across this very table.

Not her thumb, she knew that. She wondered if it would fit her pointer finger, but no. She would have loved to see the look on his face if it fit her middle figure. She wore many rings, often and always on that one. It had been the closest to her ring finger that she could get. The closest to feel like she had been married to Matthew in her heart for all these years.

It slid down onto the knuckle, but then it stopped too high up, not near the base of her digit where it was meant to sit. She sighed inwardly, this was it, and it had all been leading up to this very moment.

Am I ready?

And Mary slipped the ring over her long elegant ring finger as easy as it had been sized especially and only for that one finger on Mary's hand. Her breath quickly sucked in, her chest rose in amazement.

My God, how perfect.

"And my darling Matthew, pray tell, what am I to tell all those dashing American millionaire suitors when they ask why I have such a memento on this finger"

She waved it treacherously in the air towards the middle of the table.

His smiled widened at the endearment.

"I thought that would have been quite obvious now Darling, all you have to do is explain that you have an English husband"

Yes My Love, I am more than ready!

"Will you?" If he had been standing he would have made a step closer towards her.

"Will you?" It was Granny, poor dear, caught up in the moment.

The spell broke, and Mary suddenly became aware of all the eyes anticipating her answer. This time she couldn't stop the blush as it rushed up her neck into her cheeks, and prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. Her rapid breathing made the top of her red silk dress flutter over her chest. She closed her eyes.

Breathe and be still my heart.

And when she opened them she looked straight into the light of Matthew.

"Matthew already knows my answer." His eyes held her riveted. At that moment she was his, wholly, unrestrained and uninhibited in front of her family. She was beautiful and for all the hurt and pain and suffering that they both had over the last years, this moment swept it all away on a thousand little wings.

Are you Happy?

I think I'm about to be happy, does that count?

It does if you mean it.

Matthew tugged at the red thread that was left between them, barely millimetres.

Mary felt it, and she slowly rolled years of yarn into a ball that they could both could carry between clasped hands.

"You've lived your life, and I've lived mine…" he started,

"…and now it's time we lived them together." Her voice was like a caress. The smile Mary bestowed on Matthew was beyond the light of a million diamonds dazzling, and they soared, on wings of eagles, leaving shade behind.

FIN

*&**Robert Louis Stevenson quotes (Scottish Essayist, Poet and Author of fiction and travel books, 1850-1894)