July 2017



RSS Atom
Powered by InsaneJournal

Jul. 8th, 2017

Contact post

Cards, letters, telegraphs, etc for the attention of Lady Mary Crawley may be left here.

She may also be contacted by telephone.



Mar. 24th, 2012

Mary smiled happily as she leaned closer to Horatio. She had spent so little time with him since they returned to England. It was as much as she had expected, of course, but she had missed him terribly. But he was here now, and they were walking down along the dockyard. He was pointing out the different ships, and she was listening intently. He was so enthusiastic about it all, she found it incredibly endearing.

Mar. 7th, 2012

It was taking every inch of Mary's self control to appear normal as Styles served their food. This would be her last night on board the ship - they would reach England tomorrow and she would have to leave. That did make her feel somewhat sad, but she knew she didn't belong here. Horatio's injury had shown just how necessary it was that she leave.  

She glanced at him. He looked well. She didn't doubt he was still experiencing some pain, but the wound had healed well and any pain he was feeling seemed to be nowhere near as acute as it had been. She was so relieved.

Which is why she had suggested that he and William dine with her that night. To be perfectly honest, she had little interest in food, and wouldn't have even if it were not prepared by Styles. Once they were in England they would be occupied with planning their wedding and finding a place for her to live, and they would have precious little time alone. Mary was determined to make the most of this night. 

If only Styles would hurry up and leave. Her hand toyed impatiently with her necklace as she watched him serve the food. 

Feb. 26th, 2012

Mary made her way to the deck, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as she reached the top of the stairs. It hadn't been dark for long, and she needed some air. Horatio and William were sleeping - she had stopped by their berth to check on them. They had both looked so peaceful, and Mary smiled again as she pictured them.

This was all so strange, but she had never felt happier. She glanced around for the officer of the watch and spotted Mr Orrock. She'd spoken to him briefly before. She made her way to him.

"Mr Orrock," she said, dropping him a curtsey. "Would you mind terribly if I joined you here for a moment? I felt a need for some air, but if I am in the way I can return to the cabin."

Feb. 12th, 2012

Mary woke up the morning after the attack, not feeling all that rested. She had eventually retreated to the cabin after the doctor had ordered her to. They were going to move Horatio from the sick berth, and they'd assured her he wouldn't be alone during the night. She had relented, climbing into bed utterly exhausted.

She dressed - not in her clothes, they were ruined. They had given her some men's clothes - a green coat and a pair of trousers. It felt very strange to be wearing trousers.

Styles knocked on the door as she finished fastening a belt around the jacket. She called him in, and he smiled. "M'Lady, I heard you up and about. Are you ready for breakfast?"

"Yes, thank you Styles," she said. "How is Mr Hornblower this morning, do you know?"

"Haven't heard anything, M'Lady. I assume he's resting."

Mary nodded, turning back to the mirror and tilting her head as she examined her reflection. She tugged the jacket slightly. She would do.

When Styles returned with a tray, she was pulling out a chair at the table. He paused, and she looked up to meet his eye. "Yes, Styles?"

"Not going to throw it at me, are you, M'Lady?" he asked, with a cheeky grin.

Mary raised an eyebrow as she sat down. "Well, that rather depends on what breakfast tastes like," she said dryly.

Styles chuckled as he set the tray in front of her, leaving with a bow. Mary ate the (passable) breakfast quickly and then made her way to William's berth. Men's quarters or no men's quarters, she was going to check on Horatio. She paused beside the curtain.

"Mr Hornblower?" she said, her voice soft. She didn't want to wake him if he wasn't already awake.

Feb. 3rd, 2012

Mary made her way onto the deck, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. She had been looking through the window in her cabin, and it had looked so beautiful that she decided she had to go outside. It was all too easy to grow bored of the four walls of the cabin.

She glanced around the deck, looking for William or Horatio. She shouldn't be up here alone, after all.

There he was. Horatio stood talking to some of the men a little way away. She watched him for a moment, wondering if she should wait until later. But she couldn't avoid him forever, and she did want to talk to him - to see if she could learn anything about how he felt about William. Yes, this would do, if he was free.

She didn't want to interrupt his conversation with his men, though. She would hang back until it looked like he was finished.

Jan. 31st, 2012

Mary survived the storm, more or less. They had not been the most pleasant hours she'd ever experienced, but thankfully by next day she felt much better. Physically, at least.

She still had a lot on her mind. More, even, considering what had happened with Horatio the day before. She was so conflicted. And - concerned for William.

On a whim, she got to her feet and left the cabin. She paused outside the door, listening for the voices from the deck. She couldn't make out William's, and so made her way through the ship to his berth.

She cleared her throat outside it nervously. "Mr Bush?" she called, somewhat hesitantly.

Jan. 29th, 2012

Mary woke the morning after the dinner feeling exhausted and not well at all. She hadn't slept well - when she had eventually managed to drift off. She was also feeling the after effects of the wine. Her head ached and her stomach seemed to roll.

Actually, everything was rolling - and not just the gentle rocking that that she'd become accustomed to since she arrived. The sea seemed to be rather rough today; the boat swayed and lurched and her stomach mirrored it's motions exactly.

She managed to rise and dress, but even the smell of the breakfast Styles brought for her was too much. He left her with water and ship's biscuit, and she crawled back onto the bed, praying for either the sea or her stomach would calm down soon. Though at least her physical symptoms gave her something to focus on that wasn't memories of all that had happened the night before.

Jan. 22nd, 2012

Mary jabbed the pin into her hair sharply. It hurt, but she didn't care, as long as it stayed up.

She took her hand away and paused for a second, praying that it would work this time. But it didn't. She could feel her hair slowly falling down, and growled in frustration.

How on Earth did Anna manage to get all of her hair to stay up? She'd long since abandoned any hope of it looking good. She would happily settle for it to stay up and not fall down as soon as she moved her head.

She tugged out all of the pins, tossing the last one on the table with another frustrated growl.