Downton Abbey: All Is Fair In Love And War

I Wish To Be enough, Just Once

The Great War,
Late-February 1918

Matthew held a small pile of letters, one from his mother, one from Mary and one Lavinia. Then there was a neatly wrapped package with a handwriting that Matthew recognised instantly. He had saved the best for last. Beneath the brown paper was a book Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit. Matthew flipped the book back and forth, looking at cover and back, while wondering why Thomas would send him something without a note attached. Perhaps it had been sent afterwards and that meant it would not arrive for a while. — there had been a severe tardiness of all letters as of lately, it had been rather unsafe for deliveries to take place. These letters were all dated from last year, Thomas was from back in July, which meant they had been lost for quite some time.

But when Matthew opened the book he smiled to himself — there was a letter there, tucked in between the pages. There was no one near him, William was looking at the photograph of his own sweetheart, so Matthew opened the envelope and held the letter close to the lantern to read words he had ached for.

"Darling,

I am now an Acting Sergeant and managing the convalescent home that Downton has turned into. It sure has rubbed Mr Carson the wrong way, not being able to have control over me and I cannot say my tongue has always been pleasant. Sybil, however, still treats me with such kindness and strangely enough, so did Mrs Crawley; she had been trying to get His Lordship and Her Lordship to have me join them for dinner as a sign of gratitude. She was not successful before she left to aid the red cross in France. Anna is still distraught over Mr Bates and it will make you pleased to know, sweetheart, that I have held my tongue for I relate to her pain more than she will ever know; I cannot taunt her for a broken heart, can I?

As much as I keep busy I cannot help to constantly long for France and for you. I'm constantly fearful that a letter will arrive to say you have died. It's been nearly a year since the battle in 1916 and when I lick my lips I can still taste you upon them. Most of all I miss your company and I dread not having one more day with you. Beware of a gun to your head, since I cannot be there to shoot another one dead.

I imagine you are now confused over the book I sent but it holds the quote from which 'all is fair in love and war' hail from but look at the silver binding of things and find what yearns for you the most, with a heart screaming all the way to keep you company in the trenches.

All is fair in love and war,

T"

Matthew read the last bit again, a bit puzzled by it — look for the silver binding, surely it was meant to say silver lining, to look for the best in a bad situation and find Thomas there? Matthew folded the letter up and put it in his pocket, examining the book and to his surprise, the inner bindings of the book had a silver border across it — it hadn't been just encouraging words.

"Thomas, you do know how to be sneaky." Matthew smiled to himself as his fingers grazed over the binding and felt something uneven underneath it. He took his field knife out and carefully opened the bottom of it. From it a photograph slipped out; almost falling into the mud but Matthew caught it at the very last moment. There he was Thomas Barrow, sitting so perfectly still in a picture — it was almost scary how it reminded him of how still and straight Thomas stood as a footman. Matthew dabbed his eyes with his gloved hand before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the picture. It was all he needed, the face of Thomas Barrow with him in the trenches.

"Lavinia sent a photo, Captain Crawley?" William pocketed the picture of his own sweetheart and Matthew quickly tossed the picture into the book; shoving it into the inside pocket of his army jacket.