Bring Me To Your Stars

The Proposal

"Say something, for God's sake! Save yourself some dignity!" Sir James demanded of James. "Did you or did you not seduce my daughter into that library and convince her to elope with you?"

"Against her reputation? Why would I ever risk such a thing?" James argued back. "I came here with the understanding that you encouraged our marriage, and I had intended to ask you for Miss Crawley's hand properly." 

"You brazen scally," Sir James declared. "Did you think, that after putting your sullied hands on my daughter, that I would agree to you marrying her? I have since agreed to see her marry Mr. Getty, who is far more suitable as an equal of her standing. I'd certainly never allow my daughter to marry an uncouth, ill-bread sailor so far beneath her."

James glanced again at Edward and Patrick, noting that Patrick was doing not so well a job to keep that hidden sneer off his face.

"You bastard," James named him. "You know fully it isn't true." 

"Will you not confess, dear boy?" Lord Grantham asked him. 

"I did not force myself on her!" James declared. "I love her!"

"Dear God," Patrick remarked. "Is that not enough of a confession for you, Uncle?"

"Why, he has become infatuated with her," Sir James concluded, appalled by the passion in the young man's heated confession. "It is exactly as I feared." 

"Please, Mr. Moody, just tell us what really happened, so we may avoid any more harm coming to my niece," Lord Grantham gave James one last chance to profess. "Did you take her honor from her?"

"With all due respect, your lordship, this is madness," James objected.

"And I say let the punishment fit the crime," Patrick remarked again. "The rotter deserves what's coming to him."

"Damn me, should I ever let you try!" James's father could be heard booming from the entrance, as he marched into the drawing room with Miss Lavinia Levinson striding in behind him. 

"Who let this man in here?" Patrick demanded of the footmen guarding the door. "Wasn't I clear enough that this is a private matter and no one should be let in?"

"As if I wouldn't catch on to this cruel conspiracy pitted against my son?" Mr. Moody preached, turning the whole drawing room into his court room as he slammed down his case. "James is innocent. The only ruffian I can speak confidently of is you, James Crawley! And I am no better, I'm afraid, for willingly letting my son become prey to your corrupt political impetus." 

And gradually, James began to see it too.

How clear it was that Sir James had suddenly lost interest in a marriage between James and Millicent, in favor of Patrick's dog, Mr. Getty. Though, rather than admit he had proposed the idea to begin with, and be forced to follow through with it, Lord Crawley was ready to throw James's reputation under the hull to free himself from keeping his word. 

It pained James to realize, at last, that Millicent would've never truly been his in the end, so long as Sir James had a higher bidder to hold out for. 

"If no one else will defend Mr. Moody's character, I will," Miss Lavinia Levinson asserted herself strongly to the menfolk around her. "I see there's been a little mix-up, and I am here to set the record straight."

Leaving Getty glowering after her. 

Damn that American busybody, Miss Levinson!

How very unlucky that everything changed once that meddling Lavinia got involved. No doubt it was her who went and dragged the elder Mr. Moody into this. 

"You were not required here," Patrick informed his meddling lady cousin. 

"Suppose it's great fun for all of you," Lavinia persisted. "All you big powerful lords ganging up on this one poor man. I'm ashamed of all of you. Let's not hurry to conclusions before knowing the honest truth. There's no need to ruin Mr. Moody over a simple confusion." 

And without any fair warning, she stole her place next to James Moody and held his hand in hers. 

"The truth is," she went on bravely, though James caught the slight tremor of nervousness in her voice as she stepped between him and the lords. Holding on tightly to the hand of a man she hardly knew, but couldn't allow him or her cousin to take the fall. "It was I that Mr. Getty saw with Mr. Moody in the library. And he was not ravaging me. It was lovemaking."

The room stilled around her in stunned silence. 

"W-what?" James whispered to her, unable to guess what she was playing at. 

But Lavinia squeezed his hand with hers, as if to remind him of the desperate note she had delivered to him just before dinner. 

"You?" Patrick called his cousin's bluff. "I daresay not. The staff who informed me of the incident was very clear that it was-"

"And now that I've confessed what happened in the library, I can't keep hiding the rest of it," Lavinia went on, ignoring Patrick. "The truth about it is, Mr. Moody and I are engaged to be married."

James gradually lost the color in his face. 

"M-married?"

"Don't you remember, darling?" Lavinia smiled sweetly at him, though the look in her eyes continued to plead with him. "Yesterday, we were so lost in a frenzy of passion against that bookcase, that you begged me to be your wife and I happily accepted you. You said you couldn't get enough for the taste of me, the way I kissed you back." 

"Good God!" Getty exhaled excitedly under his breath, barely containing himself beside a hot and silent Patrick. "How did I ever sleep on a minx like her?"

"I'll admit, after being offered marriage by someone as handsome as Mr. Moody, I got a little carried away in my gratitude," Lavinia said blushingly. "I'm American, after all. I'm still getting used to what is proper and what isn't around here."

"Is that true?" Lord Grantham asked James. "Did you give Miss Levinson an offer of marriage?"

"No, I did not-"

Lavinia squeezed James's hand harder. So tightly, in fact, that his fingers with numb and prickly after it.  

And because he was in no better position in saving Millicent's reputation from the damning accusations her brother had framed against him, James had no choice but to trust Miss Levinson and play along for the time being. 

"That is to say, I did not wish to announce it publicly," James finally rounded off his statement. "Cutting above Lady Millicent's coming-out ball, that is." 

"Well then," Lord Grantham said, a hint of suspicion in his tone, though he would not unravel it further for the sake of keeping the peace. "It seems congratulations is in order then.  Have you set a day for the wedding? I should say, considering the circumstances, we should hope for it sooner rather than later."