![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Lady Mary's Secret
Dec. 29th, 2012 12:33 pmLady Mary Crawley wants nothing more than a chance to go back to two days ago. If she could, she would do anything in her power to make sure that things turned out differently.
Instead, she walks through the gardens, alone with her thoughts.
"Everything seems so golden one minute, then turns to ashes the next."
Mary had resented her mother's machinations, both marital and political. The Hon. Evelyn Napier was an eligible bachelor—wealthy, reasonably attractive, well-mannered, and respected in society—but Mary was quite happy to carry on a courtship without meddling. As for the Albanian negotiations and the Turkish attaché, she honestly didn't care.
That all changed when the gentlemen arrived. Evelyn was everything proper, as usual, but Mr. Pamuk... He was charming and gorgeous and unfamiliar. To think she had tried to avoid going on the hunt! It was exhilarating riding for the first time in weeks, and with such delightful company. Dinner to had been enjoyable. Seated next to Mr. Pamuk, Mary revelled in the opportunity to laugh at the clashing personalities of her family.
It was after dinner, she determines, that it began to go wrong.
"Let me come to you tonight, please."
She should never have followed him out of the drawing room. Maybe if she hadn't, he would still be alive today, back in London at the Turkish Embassy, where he belonged.
His kiss had been shocking, but easily rebuffed. His next request went beyond shocking. The suggestion itself was insulting to her.
"Please leave at once or I'll..."
"Or you'll what?"
"I'll scream."
Why couldn't he have just left when she asked? She had made it perfectly clear that his advances were unwanted. Hadn't she? Maybe there was something she could have done, something she could have said, that would have convinced him. Even now she can't think what that might have been.
"You and my parents have something in common. You believe I'm much more of a rebel than I am. Now please go. I'm not what you think I am. If it's my mistake, if I've led you on, I'm sorry, but I'm not."
He was so insistent, though, in spite of all her protestations. In the end, even though she knew it was wrong, it was so much easier to just give in. After all, he was right. If she cried out for help, she would surely become the object of scandal. The suggestion of impropriety was all it would take.
"He's dead. I think he's dead. No, I'm sure he's dead."
One minute he was alive... and the next he was not. It was so sudden, and utterly terrifying.
This would be her punishment. A dead man in her bedroom.
Dead.
Kemal Pamuk may have been a rake, but he did not deserve to die, and it's Mary's fault he's gone. She's destroyed a man's life, destroyed her relationship with her mother, and possibly destroyed her reputation in society.
"Have you ever felt your life was somehow... slipping away? And there was nothing you could do to stop it?"
She can't undo Mr. Pamuk's death, and she doesn't know how to atone for it. The guilt, she feels, will follow her forever.
If only she were a better person. If only it had been a wonderful hunt with a charming man, and nothing more. She is a fallen woman now, and a man is dead because of it, and she's still not sure what she could have done to prevent it. Be a better person perhaps.
In the end, it's all too late. It seems she may not be destined for a happy life.
[Dialogue from Downton Abbey 1.03 by Julian Fellowes]
Instead, she walks through the gardens, alone with her thoughts.
"Everything seems so golden one minute, then turns to ashes the next."
Mary had resented her mother's machinations, both marital and political. The Hon. Evelyn Napier was an eligible bachelor—wealthy, reasonably attractive, well-mannered, and respected in society—but Mary was quite happy to carry on a courtship without meddling. As for the Albanian negotiations and the Turkish attaché, she honestly didn't care.
That all changed when the gentlemen arrived. Evelyn was everything proper, as usual, but Mr. Pamuk... He was charming and gorgeous and unfamiliar. To think she had tried to avoid going on the hunt! It was exhilarating riding for the first time in weeks, and with such delightful company. Dinner to had been enjoyable. Seated next to Mr. Pamuk, Mary revelled in the opportunity to laugh at the clashing personalities of her family.
It was after dinner, she determines, that it began to go wrong.
"Let me come to you tonight, please."
She should never have followed him out of the drawing room. Maybe if she hadn't, he would still be alive today, back in London at the Turkish Embassy, where he belonged.
His kiss had been shocking, but easily rebuffed. His next request went beyond shocking. The suggestion itself was insulting to her.
"Please leave at once or I'll..."
"Or you'll what?"
"I'll scream."
Why couldn't he have just left when she asked? She had made it perfectly clear that his advances were unwanted. Hadn't she? Maybe there was something she could have done, something she could have said, that would have convinced him. Even now she can't think what that might have been.
"You and my parents have something in common. You believe I'm much more of a rebel than I am. Now please go. I'm not what you think I am. If it's my mistake, if I've led you on, I'm sorry, but I'm not."
He was so insistent, though, in spite of all her protestations. In the end, even though she knew it was wrong, it was so much easier to just give in. After all, he was right. If she cried out for help, she would surely become the object of scandal. The suggestion of impropriety was all it would take.
"He's dead. I think he's dead. No, I'm sure he's dead."
One minute he was alive... and the next he was not. It was so sudden, and utterly terrifying.
This would be her punishment. A dead man in her bedroom.
Dead.
Kemal Pamuk may have been a rake, but he did not deserve to die, and it's Mary's fault he's gone. She's destroyed a man's life, destroyed her relationship with her mother, and possibly destroyed her reputation in society.
"Have you ever felt your life was somehow... slipping away? And there was nothing you could do to stop it?"
She can't undo Mr. Pamuk's death, and she doesn't know how to atone for it. The guilt, she feels, will follow her forever.
If only she were a better person. If only it had been a wonderful hunt with a charming man, and nothing more. She is a fallen woman now, and a man is dead because of it, and she's still not sure what she could have done to prevent it. Be a better person perhaps.
In the end, it's all too late. It seems she may not be destined for a happy life.
[Dialogue from Downton Abbey 1.03 by Julian Fellowes]
