PART ONE: Announcement of Engagement (One of Two)

It had prevailed to be a frosty January night, particularly in front of the grand estate. Winds were picking up - they were more intense now, and ever more vocal - but Matthew and Mary did not notice. They were absorbed.

Love for one another had consumed them; and presently they discussed how to reveal the news of their engagement to be married.

"We'll have to tell them tonight," supposed the heir presumptive, whose gaze directly at the woman he adored proved how little he cared about anything else at that moment.

Smiling in that flattered-overwhelmed-elated way she brought out whenever Matthew enamoured her (and he almost always did, but now was special), Mary took his option into consideration. "But they're sure to be tired?" she reasoned, thinking how detrimental it would be for the family - most of whom were in a drunken, exhausted position - to experience the announcement with weaker senses. Matthew paused to acknowledge this before responding.

"Perhaps we should wait...but then, everyone is here. Wouldn't it be ideal -"

"Not all are relations," offered Mary, her eyes distractedly scanning their surroundings. The temperature had dropped significantly within the last minute, and so she suggested, "Why don't we go inside? We can decide in there."

No we can't, thought the other whilst rubbing his forehead. Mary read this unintentional gesture to be a consent to her assertion, whereupon she leant forward to kiss Matthew on the cheek. Almost instantly she retrieved her lips. "Oh my," she exclaimed, grinning. "The cold hasn't reached you, that's for sure."

Matthew appreciated her humour. "I think that if I felt your cheek right now, I'd react in the same way."

"Then do," the woman whispered softly, her voice almost inaudible due to the excited wind. But Mary had made her request in all seriousness; she ached to feel the fervent warmth of Matthew's affection, to engage in yet another foretaste of what their lives would become on the night of their union.

Matthew acted obediently, although the pleasure was his, too. His lips melted into hers, and gratefulness passed through his body when at last he reflected upon his advancement in relationship with Mary. Mary Crawley, my soon-to-be wife... They parted after little under a minute had passed, and he beamed at her reddened face. She looked embarrassed by her welcoming of his action. "We have no crowd yet," he reminded her fondly. "I think it wonderful, for us and us alone to marvel in this wonderful secret."

...

"Where on earth have they gone?"

Robert stood beside the library fireplace, surviving unease with the help of a dark wine. He swirled the liquid in his glass, of which the Dowager Countess immediately disapproved.

"Really, my son, are you so worried about your twenty-eight year-old daughter that you must play idly with your drink?" Violet's interrogative had been out of mild amusement by her son's unusual degree of concern for the two missing family members. None of the guests had yet gone (if they had done, Matthew and Mary would not have maintained privacy just outside the abbey), and yet Robert had found it necessary to draw his mother into the library on account of...well, regarding Matthew and Mary's status.

Of course, neither Violet nor Robert were knowledgable of Matthew having planned a marriage proposal; but the Dowager and the Earl had both begun to sense Matthew's anxiety about popping the question.

Briefly after Robert had replied to his mother that a father "must never grow too comfortable with his children going off on unknown escapades", Mary entered the room. Her face was redder than it had been upon blushing, because the temperature difference inside the house was significant. When the young woman observed the odd pair of spoil-sports (they had left the party), she wondered aloud, "Am I interrupting?"

"Mary! Where were you?" exclaimed her father, his tone of voice rather appalling to a woman who had recently agreed happily to uniting with a man.

Wanting her whereabouts to remain as mysterious as possible, Mary shook her head. "Never mind that. I thought I'd find you in the hall -"

"Your father thought it appropriate to drag me in here for private conversation," complained Violet.

"It doesn't matter, now that I've found you," admitted Mary lightheartedly, her mind soaring past the present situation and toward the approaching moment, when she and Matthew - as they had finally decided thus - would relay the news to the family members only. Matthew knows to bring the rest of them here, to the library, thought she. She had also instructed him to explain to the other guests that nothing was wrong, but that the family had decided upon retiring to bed earlier tonight.

...

Edith, Cora, and Isobel entered through the library doors minutes later, accompanied by the most nervous Matthew Crawley that Mary had ever beheld. He was concealing his emotions considerably well, and all eyes came upon him when Edith asked, "Everyone is here... Matthew, have you planned some sort of special meeting?"

Silence ensued, and Mary thought she would burst. Every inch of her skin wanted to revel in the moment already, hungered for the family to finally hear the announcement that had thus far gone on a six-year delay.

And tension - as well as high expectation - humidified the room, as many increasingly wondered about the circumstances of the situation. Matthew and Mary were gone simultaneously, thought the Earl deductively. Whatever they talked about must be the topic of upcoming interest -

"We thought it appropriate to gather the family while all were present -" Matthew began, but Cora frowned and wondered, "We?"

"That is, Mary and I..." The pair felt their heartbeats increase, and the congregation stirred in excitement, many already realising the occasion for which Matthew and Mary had summoned them. In mixed horror and jubilation - as they shared in the pressure and great pride upon announcing the wonderful reality - Matthew walked past the bookshelves and toward the centre of the room, in front of the energetic fireplace. He was comforted by its warmth...and, naturally, he had travelled there to be with Mary.

She greeted him with a tentative smile, but the man detected through her shimmering brown eyes that Mary was perhaps the happiest person among the family.

Except for him.

He took Mary's hand gently, and Cora gasped. Matthew tried not to lock his gaze upon his fiancèe's mother, but soon the faces of Edith, Robert, and Violet were radiant. It was most rewarding when he beheld his own mother's relieved joy; and then Matthew spoke:

"Mary and I are delighted to announce that we are engaged to be married."