Hi everyone, I am back with another chapter. This weekend was a long one and this morning I had set out to edit this chapter and I am glad the way it turned out and I hope you do too. I have finished writing season 3 episode 8.
Without anymore rambling, enjoy reading episode 6 - Patrick!
Feel free to comment, vote and add Emma Crawley season 2 into your libraries!
November 1918. Three months passed brutally for Emma. She had helped in all her spare time to aid James to recover, although his eyes had made some progress from just being dark blurs, he could see light blurs within months. Emma was a little relieved that she could be with him without Grace. Although Grace appeared at Downton from time to time to aid James, even though he asked her not to be there. She tried to insist that they were still engaged and she would throw glares at Emma whenever James wasn't looking and Emma would pretend not to notice. Emma knew that James was getting frustrated with Grace when she didn't listen. When James was resting on the couch, he had asked for one of the Sherlock Holmes novels and Emma went into the library where she saw Edith putting books away on the shelf and Sir Richard and Robert were talking.
'I was asking about Hacksby Park. I'm taking Mary over there tomorrow.' Sir Richard said.
'Our Hacksby Park? Why? Are the Russells selling?' Edith asked him.
'Not officially, but I'm told they're open to offers.'
Emma's eyebrows furrowed as she took one Sherlock Holmes out from the shelf and said, 'That's quite sad. The Russells and the Crawleys have been neighbours for centuries.'
'They're not living there anymore.'
'It'll be strange for Mary. She's been going to that house ever since she was a little girl in a party dress.' Robert said.
'We all have.' Edith underlined.
'There's nowhere better near Downton.'
'I'm not sure how comfortable it is.' Robert said.
'Well, it will be comfortable when I'm finished with it. Central heating, modern kitchens, bathrooms with every bedroom. It's all possible.'
Emma's eyebrows rose and she glanced at Robert.
'Sounds more like an hotel.' Robert grumbled.
Mr Carson entered to introduce a visitor.
'Major Clarkson.'
'Good morning, Lord Grantham.' Major Clarskson greeted and he nodded at the young women, 'Lady Edith, Lady Emma. Sir.'
Then Major Clarkson turned his attention on Robert.
'We've had a request. A Canadian major has asked to come here because of a family link with the house. We've taken officers from his regiment before, but I wanted to be sure you had no objection.'
Emma glanced up and Edith asked, 'What's his name?'
'Gordon. Patrick Gordon. He was with Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry at Passchendaele, caught in a blast and burned rather badly, I believe.'
'Good God.' Emma murmured, holding the book closely to her chest.
'Poor fellow. Well, he's perfectly welcome. I'm not aware of how we are connected, but you never know.'
'Sir.' Clarkson nodded and left the room.
Later that morning, Emma was helping James use a walking stick to learn to identify objects on his way at Downton. One of her tasks was guiding him around house and he was using the walking stick to help. They had been doing this exercise for a few weeks and James improving on recognising objects.
'I keep on thinking about poor William,' James said, as he ran his hand over the velvet couch in the drawing room. 'That he should be here, with Matthew and I. Although I wished he didn't jump in front to take on the full blast-'
'You were brave,' said Emma, 'You, William and Cousin Matthew were brave. But what happened has happened, and we can't change it. All we can do now is honour his memory.'
Emma settled James to sit and she sat closely and he held onto her hand.
'I can smell it, the woodfire, the smell of vanilla from the tea and patchouli... it's from you.' He said, and he smiled faintly.
'Yes. I think you know I do I like the smell of patchouli.'
'I remember you wore that in Kensington Gardens.'
Emma smiled faintly at the memory of his proposal. Oh how she wished she for time travel to live back in a simpler life...
'How are things going between you and Corporal Collins?' he asked, his eyes on Emma's warm hand with a blank look.
'I don't know...' Emma pondered, 'We haven't talked for a while.'
James exhaled and said, 'It's my fault, isn't it?'
'No,' she said, 'I think he knows you matter a great deal to me. We're friends, and friends look after each other.'
Emma said this with a heavy heart and forcing the word friends was like taboo. She chewed on her lip and clasped her hands together.
Emma had a telephone call from Violet to meet her at the Dowager House and Emma rushed there, thanks to Branson. She tried to pry him about his opinions of Sybil, but he didn't say a word. Emma admired he knew not to be pressured and thanked Branson when she arrived at the house, he replied with a small smile.
'Emma, oh, aren't you sight for sore eyes,' said Isobel, kissing Emma's cheek.
'It's lovely to see you again, Cousin Isobel.' Emma said.
Emma sat down next to Isobel as she was discussing changes for Downton Abbey.
'Oh, how right you are. That is why Downton Abbey still has such an important role to play.'
Violet sighed and said, 'Well, dear me, there's so much to be done. When you think of all the children laid up with a disease.'
'But they're making such advances now aren't they? Now, could we talk about the lecture programme for Downton-?'
Violet murmured, 'We must, we must. If only I wasn't haunted by those women whose jobs will be snatched from them when the boys come home.'
Emma's eyebrows rose and she wondered what Violet was thinking.
'But we have to find work for our heroes, don't we? That must be our priority.'
'Mm.'
'However hard that might sound.'
'Mm. As you say. And what about those wretched refugees? What will become of them?'
Isobel nodded and said, 'Ah. Now you've struck a chord.'
Violet was shocked, 'Have I really? Oh, thank heaven.'
'What do you mean?'
'Mm? Nothing. Only the thought of those poor men and women flung across Europe far from their homelands, and so much in need of your help.'
'My help? Why do you say that?'
'When it comes to helping refugees, your experience renders your value beyond price. One of the organisers said those words.' Violet praised.
'Which organiser?'
Violet was silent for a moment, then said, 'I forget.'
'What about running Downton? I can't do both.'
Emma was now getting the game of what was going on, and she quickly turned to Isobel.
'You must decide what is more important: exercise classes and lectures on pottery, or helping men and women build a new life.'
Isobel looked sincere at the thought and she stood up.
'I must go. But I will think about it.'
Violet rang the bell.
'Are you coming to Cousin Robert's dinner tonight?'
'Are you?' Violet asked.
'Well, I didn't feel I could say no. He sent a note this morning and was most insistent. What's it about?'
'No clue, it sounded like an emergency family meeting, as far as I am aware.' Emma said, shrugging.
Isobel turned to Violet.
'I have no idea. But we'll talk there. We're onto something for you. We mustn't let the iron grow cold.'
Isobel smiled and left the room.
'Now that she's gone, hopefully she'll forget ruining private houses.' Violet mumbled.
Emma crooked her head and said, 'You know Cousin Isobel, once she has an idea, she'll stick with it.'
'Hmm, how unfortunate.'
Emma smiled warmly at her granny's wit. She knew that Violet cared a lot for Isobel and whether she liked to admit it or not that they were friends.
'So, have you found anything about Grace, it's been months since you set a hound on her.'
Violet pursed her lips and said, 'Well, I have.'
Emma's eyebrow rose and she said, 'Go on.'
'It turns out the man she was cavorting with is a Mr. Fredrick Whitmore, a divorcee. They had been seeing each other since early 1913. Of course, her father disapproves of the match-'
'Let me guess, it's because he doesn't have a title.' Emma said condescendingly.
'Exactly. When Lord Bedford dies, his title, his money and the estate would go to his son, and his daughter would have nothing.'
'So, by marrying James, she would be the next person to inherit his wealth.' Emma nodded.
'And now, he is blind, what better opportunity than now to tie the knot in matrimony.'
Emma sighed. 'God, this woman is sounding more nastier by the minute. James would never marry now. He told me himself.'
'Hmm, but what would you do now?'
'I don't know...' Emma said, shrugging her shoulders, 'Every time she comes to Downton, she keeps on trying to persuade him to marry. If she persuades him and she marries him, then what? She'll run away with her man and James's fortune?' she said offhandedly.
Violet gave her a piercing look.
'You're serious!' Emma said ludicrously and sat up higher on the couch.
'I always have proof. Here,' she said and she handed Emma letters that had been obviously opened.
Emma took them and she read the first:
My darling Grace,
I had just gotten divorced and now, I hope you would make due with your word that you'll run with away with me. Molly was upset by the divorce, but I had given a generous amount of money that would set up for her life and never to see me again. I know your father wouldn't approve of us, and neither was my parents, they approved of Molly but I don't have the heart to tell them that we will marry. I hope to see you soon as we planned.
Yours,
Fredrick.
Emma laid aside the paper and read the next one.
My darling Grace,
I would never had suspected this, but I heard the rumours in London that you are engaged to a James Montgomery. No doubt, he has a lot of money. I had told you before that there is no need to sacrifice yourself for our welfare. My father had died and he left everything to me. The car, the house, the land. I know you wanted to set up our family in London and that was everything I wanted. But now, can't we at least meet up in London. I need to know the truth. Are you really engaged? Or was this your father's doing?
Fredrick.
Emma shook her head and she read the next letter.
Grace,
It has been months and I know you're planning to marry Montgomery for his wealth. He doesn't have the title nor land, but does he make you happy? If he does, then this would be the last letter I would send.
No doubt, this was for money. But I want to see you again. Leave Montgomery be and we can be happy.
Fredrick.
The last letter Emma read had her mouth opened in shock.
Grace,
It has been weeks since we last been together and I know you said you intend to marry Montgomery as soon as possible, but I beg you not to do this. I don't care about the money you intend to take once you're wed. (Hopefully not)
When I was rummaging through the drawers for my notebook, I saw a letter confirming you're pregnant.
I need to know if you're carrying my child.
I know the last time we were together was in Bedford but also you were in York with Montgomery.
If the child is his, then I wish you luck with your marriage and child. I won't stop you from marrying him.
If it is mine, then I would tell you that I would support you in anyway I can. We can buy a flat in London or we can go abroad, far away from your father and society and live together in peace as Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore.
Yours,
Fredrick.
'Oh my god.' Emma exclaimed.
'Now, my dear, you see. What will you do now...doing nothing will change nothing. But saving someone from ruin, it requires action.'
Emma glanced at her grandmother and lifted her chin and she said, 'I know what I will do.'
The next night, James said he wanted to be alone, even though Robert had called out to everyone, he didn't mind if James was there, but James insisted and he was aided by Sybil to go upstairs. Emma watched as Sybil tenderly guided James out. Emma got dressed in a dark green frock and her hair was up. She went into the library and judging by Robert's expression, she gathered this wasn't going to be a jolly family discussion.
'Do you know what's going on?' Emma asked Sybil, as they both walked into the library.
'No clue,' said Sybil, shaking her head.
'How is James?' Emma asked her.
'He's resting, although I could tell he is still frustrated with loss of his eyesight.'
Emma sighed and she sat down next to Violet.
'I'm sorry if it's a bit of a crush. I didn't want to be overheard.'
'Are we talking financial ruin? Or criminal investigation?' Violet asked her son gravelly.
'Neither. I'll get straight to the point. We have a patient who has been badly burned who goes by the name of Patrick Gordon, but he claims to be Patrick Crawley.'
Everyone was dumbfounded. Emma suddenly felt a rush of shock sweeping her body and then anger bubbled in her. She felt sickened that if her cousin was alive, why didn't he revealed himself to be alive? She had been mourning a dead person for like six months!
'But I thought he was dead. Didn't he drown on the Titanic?' Isobel inquired.
'Well, of course, it is what we all thought until now.'
'They never found a body.' Edith said.
'They never found lots of bodies.' Mary quipped back.
'I'm so sorry, but I'm not quite on top of this. Who's Patrick Crawley?' Sir Richard asked.
'The man who would displace me as heir,' Matthew explained, 'If he's alive, then I'm no longer the future Earl of Grantham.'
'It's ridiculous. How can it be true? Where's he been hiding for the past six years?' Emma said. Emma didn't believe this man was Patrick Crawley.
'In Canada, suffering from amnesia.'
'He does have a story that would explain it. I'm not quite sure about how to test the facts.' Robert said.
'He knows all sorts of things that only Patrick, or someone very close to him, would know.'
'What a stupid thing to say. Any fortune teller at a fair comes up with a dozen details he couldn't possibly know.' Mary snapped.
'There's no need to be angry.' Cora said gently, 'This young man is either Patrick or he's not. There must be a way to find out. Is he like Patrick to look at?
'He isn't like anything to look at.'
'I've sent his account up to George Murray in London to ask for his advice.' Robert said formally.
'But what a waste of time and money!' Mary bellowed.
Edith snapped at Mary, 'What's the matter? We were all so fond of Patrick. You were going to marry him, for heaven's sake! Aren't you glad if he survived?'
'Dear me, should I be worried?' Sir Richard asked Mary with a raised brow.
'Certainly not. This man is a fake and an imposter, and I think it's a cruel trick to play when Matthew's been through so much.'
Mary had tears in her eyes.
'My dear, don't be too quick to decide. You never know. This might be a blessing in disguise.' Matthew said.
'What do you mean?' Isobel asked, glancing at her son.
'Well, he seems a nice enough chap. He's not very pretty, of course, but he can walk 'round the estate on his own two legs and sire a string of sons to continue the line. All in all, I'd say that's a great improvement on the current situation. Sybil, could I prevail on you to take me back to my room?'
'Of course.' Sybil said and she wheeled Matthew out of the room. Emma glanced at Mary who was saddened by Matthew's response.
The next day, everyone was pulled back into the library, which had meant that Murray had written back. Mary and Emma were about the only ones who were sure that the man who was saying he was Patrick Crawley was an imposter. Mary sat on an armchair and Emma sat on the left arm of Mary's chair, waiting for what her papa had to say.
'I assume that whatever Mr Murray has told you means the man is a fake. You can't have asked Matthew to be here unless you know that.'
'It's very complicated,' Robert said, walking to them with a letter in one hand, 'Lowe was the only officer to go back to the site of the wreck. He did pull some people out of the sea, and it seems one of the men was unidentified.'
'There.' Edith said smugly.
Mary rolled her eyes in annoyance.
'One if the reports has him dying before they reached the Carpathia.'
'Precisely.' Mary rebutted.
'Another witness says the man did get to New York alive, but there's no clear record of his name.'
'Which could be Patrick Crawley.' Edith said.
Emma shook her head. She still believed that Patrick was dead.
Robert continued, 'There's more. There was a Peter Gordon who worked with Patrick at the foreign office. Now, he emigrated to Montreal in 1913.'
'When his face was blown away, he decided every cloud has a silver lining.' Violet said, 'He was perfectly placed to impersonate his dead friend. I mean, no doubt they shared confidences, so he just brushed them up and put himself forward for a major inheritance.'
Emma nodded her head, believing it sounded more plausible than a presumed dead man appeared six years later, telling them that he is Patrick Crawley without substantial proof.
'Granny's right.' Emma said, 'All he needed was a survivor from the Titanic who was unaccounted for, and he found one and decided to impersonate our dear cousin to inherit what isn't his. The man is clearly a fake.'
'Hear, hear,' said Mary, nodding at Emma's statement.
Edith scoffed at her sisters, 'But the Titanic story bears out Patrick's version in every way.'
Cora turned to Robert and asked, 'What do you think?'
Robert looked at Matthew before answering.
'...I don't know what to think.' Robert finally said.
Mary exclaimed at her father, 'How can you even hesitate?'
'But Mary, you haven't heard the things he remembers.' Edith said.
'I don't need to. I remember how we played, and your pony, and your birthday, and how we hid in the garden from the nasty governess. What other memories would you have of a childhood spent here?'
Edith remained silent.
'Murray will continue to investigate. So, Edith, can we be polite to the man, but nothing more?' Robert mused, 'The end of the war should make it easier to unearth the evidence. That is all for the time being.'
Everyone began to disperse from the room, leaving Robert with Matthew to talk. Emma gave him a hopeful glance and he nodded at her. Emma felt terrible for Matthew, for his life was in the balance of either being the next Earl of Grantham or not.
Emma had longed for a walk, wondering what she would say to James when she was going to confront him of Grace's infidelity. She found herself wandering in the grounds, all alone when she saw a startling appearance of Edith and a man with bandages covering most of his face, sitting closely nearby the roman gazebo. She narrowed her eyes at the man, she presumed that Edith believed to be Patrick Crawley. Emma made her way there and she cleared her throat to get their attention.
'Edith, mama has been looking for you,' Emma said, giving a quick peek at the man, 'she needs you back in the house.'
Edith blinked and turned to the man and said, 'I'll come back.'
The man nodded and Edith got up and cast a warning glance at Emma, who ignored her sister.
Emma sat down next to the man and the man fidgeted a little under Emma's unwavering stare.
'I think I should introduce myself,' said Emma, 'I am-'
'Lady Emma Violet Crawley, the third daughter of Robert and Cora Crawley, and my god-sister.'
Emma froze and then smiled charmingly, 'Edith has told who I am?'
The man shook his head and said, 'No, I remember you.'
Emma tilted his head, 'What do you remember of me?'
The man smiled, 'I remember going for walks with you. I remember you coming over to my house for tea. You were happy that I was going to be an official member of the family. I remember we went on horse rides around the grounds. I remember-'
Emma shook her head and said, 'Forgive me. I should have explained myself more clearly. What do you remember of our time, do you remember our secret pact, for instance?'
The man moved back and stuttered, 'I-I don't remember a lot of small details, Emma.'
'Lady Emma,' Emma corrected, her eyes piercing.
'O-of course,' the man said.
He looked down at the grass and murmured, 'You don't think I am Patrick.'
Emma sat up her and said, 'No, I don't... Not without substantial and untainted proof.'
They remained silent and Emma didn't want to spend another moment with this man, so she asked, 'Do you remember our promise, the one I made to Patrick?'
The man glanced at her.
'When I was seven, Mary and I were horse riding in the woods, I had asked Patrick to come but he refused, after he had promised, and my horse jumped over a fence towards a paddock and I fell over. I walked on my own towards the house, and Patrick was reading a book by the willow tree, I went after him and chased him with a stick and I had scared his hand and he took me into the house and he made a promise to me... do you know what Patrick said to me?'
The man remained silent as he listened.
'Patrick would never ever forget his promises, he kept them until nineteen twelve... do you remember what he always said?'
'I-I don't recall-'
'He said, he would never leave me.' Emma said portentously. 'The scar was a straight line and it doesn't appear to be on your hand.'
'I-I-'
'You can play this charade well towards Edith, but the rest of my family don't fall for parlour tricks and delusions, you have no real proof to confirm that you are Patrick Crawley, and if you think you would ever have a chance impersonating my dear deceased god-brother, to inherit the house and title of earldom, then you better think again, because I would fight to protect my family till my last breath and I would expose the swindler that you truly are.'
The man frowned at Emma and asked clearly, 'What do you want from me?'
Emma smiled gently and said, 'I want you to never contact Edith again. Leave my house and my family alone by dawn, and if you ever come into Downton, I, and my family will do everything in our power to make sure you will serve into His Majesty's federal prison for fraud.'
'You can't do that! I-'
'Oh yes I can, and I will!' Emma said darkly.
Emma stood up and left him with a blank look on her face.
At dinner, Emma wore a black glittering frock and she sat next in between James and Edith. She had heard that Sir Richard was meant to arrive before dinner, but the minutes were slowly ticking away and just as they finished dinner Robert spoke.
'Shall we go through with the ladies, let them get in here?'
'Of course.' Matthew said.
Emma wiped her hands with the napkin and stood up.
'I wonder what happened to Richard.' Cora pondered.
'He'll have started late and...' Mary excused.
Just then, Richard appeared through the door.
'Oh, I do apologise lady Grantham. We got stuck in Royston and a cart had overturned in Baldock.'
Out of the blue, Lavinia and Grace appeared behind Richard. Emma's heart sank as she saw Grace's eyes landed on James and then she glanced at Emma with narrowing eyes. Emma's posture changed at that moment, she puffed out her chest and raised her chin and planted a neutral expression.
'Hello, my dears. How lovely to see you.' Cora said warmly to Grace and Lavinia.
Emma's eyes narrowed at Cora. She wondered what was her mother playing at.
'You sure? Sir Richard said you were expecting me, but are you?' Lavinia asked shyly.
Robert's expression changed and he said, 'Of course we are.'
'Can you take Matthew into the small library? Edith, can you help James, please? Are you hungry? We finished, but Mrs Hughes can easily put something on a tray. Carson?
Carson exited the room.
Emma wasn't pleased with her mother.
Emma walked along side with Grace, not saying a word. There was a tense atmosphere as they walked alongside slowly towards the library. Emma was nervous to tell James the truth, she knew the consequences but now that Grace was here, she wasn't somehow afraid, she had the proof of Grace's scandals and she wondered how she could do this to James, why him?
'The last time we spoke, I was rather short with you, and I ought to apologise-'
Emma shook her head and she said, 'Don't. I rather we leave it behind...'
Grace sighed and nodded her head, 'That is good.'
'And we talk of something else of importance,' Emma said, stopping in her tracks.
Grace froze and turned to Emma, raising her eyebrow, 'Oh?'
'Who is Fredrick Whitmore?' Emma asked flatly.
Grace's face paled.
'How do you know that name?' she gasped.
'That is not important,' Emma said, her eyes piercing Grace's. 'However, I am curious to know who is Fredrick to you, your friend? Your brother's friend? A lover?'
Grace's face darkened.
'You're wrong,' she said lowly, 'Fredrick Whitemore is a deranged man who I knew as a child.'
Emma's eyebrow rose, watching Grace and nodding to her to go on.
'He had been obsessed with me since I was fifteen, he moved away for while and now he is back in London, he wanted me to run away with him.'
'Why didn't you tell the police, or take it to court? Your family is wealthy.'
'And ruin his life?'
Emma pursed her lips and said, 'I just exposed a fraud today in my house, and it seems I just found another.'
Grace face changed into disbelief, 'I am not a fraud!'
'Yet I have proof of your infidelity,' Emma said, clasping her hands together, her heart beating thunderously. 'Or rather you have, you're starting to show.'
Grace glanced down at her stomach. Emma had to gather she was around two months pregnant.
'What do you want?' Grace asked.
Emma sighed and kept her chin up, 'I just want to know why are you here, James doesn't want you anymore.'
Grace's face glanced sharply at her, 'And what, he wants you back? I love him, and I will marry him.'
'So you can take his money and save your reputation and leaving James in ruin,' Emma said hotly with a impassive expression, 'What kind of a person does that to their lover?'
Grace grabbed Emma's arm and grasped it tightly, 'Now listen here, you little troublemaker! If you ever tell James or anyone about my unborn child and Fredrick, I will ruin you in ways that you can't possibly imagine. I heard of the rumours of Mary and the diplomat, and you helped carry a corpse! If you think I won't tell a journalist, who are anxious to get a scandal to write, then you better think again. Never threaten me again, are we clear?'
Emma's mind went back to the night where she, Cora, Anna and Mary carried Pamuk's corpse in the dead of night across the dark house.
Emma shivered and she nodded.
'Good.'
11th November 1918
The declaration of Armistice was about to begin at eleven o'clock. Emma, her whole family, the staff, the officers, including Corporal Collins, Matthew and James, the house guests, Sir Richard, Grace and Lavinia had gathered in the Great Hall, ready to give a minute silence in remembrance of those lives given to end the war. Emma stood in Edith and Sir Richard as she listened to Robert's speech.
'I think while the clock strikes, we should all make a silent prayer to mark the finish of this terrible war, and what that means for each and every one of us. Let us remember the sacrifices that have been made and the men who will never come back, and give them our thanks.'
The clock chimed and the soldiers all stand, some sat down, at attention. Emma thought back to all how it had all started, with the declaration of war, how her friends were called up into service, how James, Matthew and William were missing, William's death, of how many lives couldn't be saved nor found, of how her life changed forever; now that the war was over, thanking every single man who had given their lives to better theirs, sybil's career of being a nurse had changed everyone, she thought of all the families who had lost their husbands, sons, brothers, fathers and how their sacrifice would reward them to be in heaven for all of eternity, thinking that the future generation to remember what had happen now until the end of time.
The eleventh chime fades and Robert relaxed.
'Thank you, everyone.'
The officers stood at ease.
'Remember that this is not just the end of a long war, but it is the dawn of a new age. God bless you all.'
'Oh!' James said, he glanced around and Emma's eyes went over to him instantly.
'Are you all right, my love?' Grace asked tenderly.
'I-I thought I had just...never mind. It was nothing.'
Emma watched as Grace held onto James' arm and led him away and she never felt more stuck than ever.
What do you all think of this chapter? Let me know down below...
Have a wonderful day and stay safe!