Downton Abyss
Posted in General on October 31st, 2013 by Eugene Finerman – 5 Comments
1921
Carson entered the drawing room with the embarrassing news, “My Lord and Ladies, I am afraid that Enrico Caruso is dead in Lady Mary’s bed.”
“Not another!” complained the Earl.
“Really, Robert, it is just a hobby and only once a month” consoled Lady Cora.
“And Mr. Caruso would make quite a trophy” added the Dowager Countess.
“Oh, it is quite a collection now. Theodore Roosevelt, two years ago. Last year, Amedeo Modigliani. The Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, seven years ago. I have to wonder if blaming Serbia was really such a clever idea.”
Lady Cora nodded, “It was extra work for the chauffeur.”
But the Dowager dismissed the doubts. “I imagine that Mr. Caruso and the others all died much happier than the thousands of grouse you’ve killed.”
The Earl was not yet placated. “But all these macabre deaths might distress the servants.”
“Not at all, your lordship” assured Carson, “An extra orange at Christmas should suffice.”
“Thank you, Carson” smiled the Earl, “but still this behavior of our daughter…”
“Daughter?” wondered Lady Cora. “Why would you think that?”
“A young woman here, unbearably arrogant. Of course, she is our daughter.”
“Family, yes” corrected his mother. She knew this conversation was long overdue. “But when do you recall meeting Mary?”
“Well, I was never one to pry in other people’s lives. Perhaps it was at her debut, ten years ago?”
“No, it was closer to 45 years ago, at my grandmother’s funeral. I introduced you to a lady who I said was my grandmother’s great-aunt. Of course, I was lying.”
“Obviously” laughed the Earl. “The woman would have been 150 years old.”
His mother agreed. “Yes, Lady Mary hasn’t been 150 years old since the 13th century. When Downton Abbey was an abbey. Don’t you recall the legend of a demonic abbess?”
“Is Lady Mary a vampyre?” wondered the Earl.
“A vampyre? Somebody went to Cambridge. Carson, tell us: did any of the corpses have bites on their neck?”
“Not on the neck, your ladyship.”
“Quite right. Lady Mary is a succubus, which is as sordid as it sounds.”
“Cora, you knew a medieval monster was living under our roof?”
“Mary has always been gracious to me. She even offered me the corpses to make matzoh.”
“Shouldn’t someone warn Mary’s husband? Isn’t Matthew in danger?”
“Really, Robert. Matthew is an Englishman. Whether Mary is a patriot or a gourmet, she is not interested.”
“So, we will do nothing, mother?”
‘It has been our tradition for 800 years.”
Next week, Mary hires a new lady’s maid: Wallis Simpson.