As they battle to rebuild their own and others' lives & livelihoods in a country irrevocably changed by war, VAD Nurse Mary Crawley & convalescing Captain Matthew Crawley are swept into a web of scandal & corruption that threatens to rip the Crawley...
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"I've tried the war office," Robert paced the small library, two pairs of eyes, Mary and Isobel's following his every step. "There is something going on. All they'll say is that there are heavy casualties again among those involved in the battle at Lys. There has been trouble at Messines. And they did confirm that Matthew's regiment was involved.
"I'm very sorry we can't get anything more from them. We're just going to have to wait. They did agree to call me as soon as they hear news – one small perk from having connections," his voice tailed off.
He turned towards them, unable to quell the anguish in his eyes and went on. "I don't like this. That you both could feel... and Daisy too. Carson tells me she had a turn and she's beside herself. She's telling them over and over that William has been hurt. He shook his head. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all."
There was nothing for it. They would have to wait.
Robert returned, worried, to his luncheon guests. Mary and Isobel returned to the hospital in silence, their shared sense of foreboding heightened by Robert's news.
Mary attempted to re-start her budget task. When it proved impossible to concentrate she settled instead for sorting her office desk and drawers. The papers needed a tidy anyway, and at least that was a job she could focus on.
Isobel returned to the ward. "Any news?" Sister Thomsen inquired in a low voice. Isobel shook her head. "Very little. But his regiment is involved in the battle at Lys," she said tightly, her mouth a thin line. "... and Daisy is beside herself about William.." She shut her eyes momentarily and put her hand to her lips. "Distract me, for god's sake!"
"Of course my dear. Help me with Lieutenant Jones. I'm not sure how we best clean the wound where he has developed that secondary skin infection," Sister Thomsen said immediately, and she led her gently across the room to where the young man lay groaning on his bed.
Arriving home at the end of her shift, Molesley greeted her with a cheery smile. "Ah, Mrs Crawley," he beamed. "Good evening. We've had some mail today, and you'll be pleased to hear there is a letter from Matthew."
His smile faded as he saw Isobel's face drain of colour at his words, and he caught her arm as she swayed.
"Mrs Crawley, you're awfully pale. Is something wrong? Here, sit down a moment," and he helped her to the seat by the telephone in the hall.
"Molesley," Isobel began, vaguely thinking she should tell him what Robert had said... what she, Daisy, and Mary had worried. But she just couldn't. Instead, she said "The letter, could you..."
"Of course," Molesley replied, worried by his employer's countenance. "Do you wish to read it here? Or could I assist you to the sitting room? You don't look at all well!"
At Isobel's gesture, he took her arm and soon had her in the sitting room seated in the comfortable armchair by the fireplace.
He fetched the letter from the mail tray and handed it to her. "I'll organise you some tea. A long day was it?" He frowned at her, trying to fathom what could be the matter. She nodded distractedly, her hands already ripping at the envelope. Molesley hadn't moved, the slight frown still on his face. He clearly expected more of an answer. Suppressing her irritation, Isobel put her hand to her forehead and said, "A headache I'm afraid. A draught would be helpful."
