*April 17, 1912 - Crawley House*
Josh stood before the mirror in his room, meticulously adjusting his white bow tie. The formal evening wear felt like armor—perfectly tailored, impeccably styled, a shield against whatever social challenges awaited him at Downton Abbey tonight.
A knock at his door interrupted his preparations. "Come in," he called.
Matthew entered, looking profoundly uncomfortable in his own evening dress. "I feel ridiculous," he announced without preamble. "Like a penguin playing dress-up."
Josh laughed. "You look fine. Distinguished, even."
"Molesley tried to help me with these studs for twenty minutes," Matthew complained, gesturing at his shirt front. "I thought the poor man might cry when I couldn't get them right."
"Here, let me." Josh moved to help his brother, his fingers working efficiently with the formal shirt studs. Years of surgical precision translated well to managing fiddly formal wear.
"How do you know all this?" Matthew asked suspiciously. "We didn't exactly grow up attending white-tie dinners."
Josh shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "I told you—medical conferences in London. The formal ones require proper evening dress."
It wasn't entirely a lie. He had attended such events, using his future knowledge to navigate them successfully. But his real expertise came from memories of another life, of watching these exact scenes play out.
"Well, I still think it's absurd," Matthew muttered. "All this pomp and ceremony just to eat dinner."
"It's not about the dinner," Josh explained patiently. "It's about tradition, hierarchy, social bonds. These rituals serve a purpose."
Matthew gave him a skeptical look. "Since when did you become such a philosopher?"
Before Josh could answer, Isobel appeared in the doorway. She wore an evening gown of deep purple silk that suited her coloring perfectly—elegant without being ostentatious.
"Are you boys ready?" she asked. "The car will be here soon."
"As ready as we'll ever be," Matthew replied glumly.
Isobel studied her sons with motherly pride tinged with concern. "You both look very handsome. Just remember to be yourselves."
"Ourselves with better table manners," Josh amended with a wry smile.
The Downton car arrived promptly at seven-thirty, Taylor at the wheel. As they drove through the darkening countryside toward the Abbey, Josh felt the familiar flutter of anticipation. This was it—their first formal dinner with the family, the first real test of whether he could successfully navigate the aristocratic world he was destined to inherit.
The Abbey was ablaze with light as they approached, its windows glowing golden against the darkening sky. Josh heard Matthew's sharp intake of breath beside him.
"It's even more imposing at night," his brother murmured.
"Wait until you see the dining room," Josh replied quietly.
Carson met them at the entrance, his imposing figure even more formal in full evening livery. "Good evening, Dr. Crawley, Mrs. Crawley, Mr. Crawley. The family is assembled in the drawing room."
As they followed the butler through the magnificent halls, Josh noticed Matthew's eyes widening at the opulent surroundings—the paintings, the sculptures, the sheer scale of everything. Even Isobel, usually so composed, seemed slightly overwhelmed.
The drawing room doors opened to reveal the Crawley family in full evening splendor. Robert stood by the fireplace in perfect white tie, while Cora sat elegantly on a sofa in a gown of pale blue silk. The three sisters were arranged artfully around the room—Mary in deep crimson that complemented her dark hair, Edith in soft pink that flattered her fairer coloring, and Sybil in white befitting her youth.
But it was Violet who commanded attention, seated in her chair like a queen on her throne, diamonds glittering at her throat and in her hair.
"Dr. Crawley, Mrs. Crawley, Mr. Crawley," Robert greeted them warmly. "Welcome to Downton Abbey."
Josh bowed slightly. "Lord Grantham, thank you for having us. May I say how magnificent your home looks this evening."
"You're very kind," Cora interjected with a genuine smile. "Please, do come in. What will you have to drink?"
As Robert played host at the drinks table, Josh found himself gravitating toward Mary, who stood near the windows. She watched his approach with that cool, assessing gaze he was beginning to recognize.
"Lady Mary," he greeted her. "You look lovely this evening."
"Thank you, Dr. Crawley," she replied, though something flickered in her eyes at the compliment. "I trust you're settling in well at Crawley House?"
"Very well. Though I suspect it's rather different from what you're accustomed to here."
"Different isn't necessarily bad," Mary said, surprising him. "Sometimes a change of perspective can be... refreshing."
"I couldn't agree more," Josh replied, holding her gaze. "Though I imagine change isn't always welcome at Downton."
"That depends entirely on the nature of the change," Mary countered. "And who's proposing it."
Their verbal sparring was interrupted by Violet's voice cutting across the room. "Dr. Crawley, I hear you performed something of a medical miracle yesterday."
Josh turned to find the Dowager Countess studying him with sharp interest. "Hardly a miracle, Lady Grantham. Simply modern surgical techniques applied to a serious infection."
"Dr. Clarkson seemed quite impressed," Robert added. "He mentioned you might be taking shifts at the hospital?"
"If that's acceptable to the board," Josh replied carefully, aware he was treading on potentially sensitive ground. "I believe in keeping my skills sharp, and the hospital could benefit from additional surgical expertise."
"How noble," Violet commented, her tone making it unclear whether this was praise or sarcasm. "And will Mrs. Crawley be joining you in these medical endeavors?"
Isobel, who had been conversing with Cora, looked up at this. "I've offered my services as well. There's always need for trained nursing staff."
"Indeed?" Violet's eyebrows rose. "I was under the impression our hospital was adequately staffed."
"Adequately, perhaps," Isobel replied with diplomatic firmness. "But there's always room for improvement in medical care."
Josh saw the flash of steel in his mother's eyes and recognized the warning signs. Time for a tactical retreat.
"I'm sure any decisions about staffing would be made by Dr. Clarkson and the board," he interjected smoothly. "We're merely offering our assistance where it might be useful."
"Speaking of usefulness," Cora said, clearly attempting to change the subject, "Matthew, Robert tells me you're considering taking a position with a local firm?"
Matthew, who had been quietly conversing with Sybil and Edith, looked up nervously. "Yes, Lady Grantham. Harvell and Carter in Ripon. They've offered me a partnership."
"But surely that's unnecessary now?" Edith asked with genuine curiosity. "I mean, as Dr. Crawley's heir..."
"A man should have occupation," Matthew replied firmly. "I'm a solicitor by training and inclination. I see no reason to abandon my profession."
"How refreshingly modern," Violet observed, though her tone suggested she found it anything but refreshing.
"I think it's admirable," Sybil declared with youthful enthusiasm. "Why should a man give up his career just because of an inheritance?"
"Because," Mary said coolly, "being heir to Downton is a career in itself. Isn't that right, Papa?"
Robert looked uncomfortable at being drawn into the debate. "Well, certainly the estate requires attention..."
"But not immediately," Josh intervened, supporting his brother. "Matthew's right to maintain his professional interests. I certainly intend to continue practicing medicine."
"Even after you inherit?" Mary challenged.
"Especially then," Josh replied, meeting her gaze steadily. "A man needs purpose beyond managing property, don't you think?"
Before Mary could respond, Carson appeared in the doorway. "Dinner is served, my lord."
The formal procession to the dining room was a careful dance of precedence and protocol. Josh found himself escorting Cora, as the highest-ranking lady after Violet, while Robert led his mother. Matthew was paired with Mary, looking decidedly nervous about it, while the younger sisters followed with Violet bringing up the rear on Robert's other arm.
The dining room was overwhelming in its grandeur—crystal chandeliers casting brilliant light over a table that seemed to stretch forever, set with china, silver, and glassware that probably cost more than most people's annual income. Josh heard Matthew's quiet gasp and sympathized. It was intimidating, even when you knew what to expect.
The seating arrangement was clearly strategic. Josh was placed at Cora's right hand, with Mary beside him. Directly across sat Matthew between Edith and Violet, while Sybil was on Josh's other side. Isobel sat at Robert's right, a position of honor that Josh noted with approval.
As the footmen began serving the first course—a delicate turtle soup—Robert raised his glass. "To our cousins, the Crawleys. Welcome to Downton Abbey."
"To the Crawleys," the family echoed, crystal chiming as glasses met.
The early courses passed with the kind of polite conversation that characterized formal dinners—the weather, the upcoming Season in London, mutual acquaintances. Josh navigated it easily, his natural charm and foreknowledge serving him well. He noticed Mary watching him, evaluating his performance.
"Do you go to London often, Dr. Crawley?" Cora asked during the fish course.
"For medical conferences primarily," Josh replied. "Though I enjoy the theater when time permits."
"Oh, do you?" Sybil leaned forward eagerly. "What have you seen recently?"
Josh named several productions he genuinely had attended, adding thoughtful commentary that clearly impressed the youngest daughter.
"You seem quite the culture enthusiast," Mary observed. "Surprising for someone who spends his days in operating theaters."
"Why surprising?" Josh challenged gently. "Surely appreciation for art and science aren't mutually exclusive. Leonardo da Vinci managed both quite well."
"Comparing yourself to da Vinci?" Mary's eyebrow arched. "How modest."
"Merely pointing out that renaissance men aren't entirely extinct," Josh replied with a self-deprecating smile. "Though I'll admit my artistic talents are limited to appreciating others' work."
Violet had been observing this exchange with interest. "Tell me, Dr. Crawley," she interjected, "what are your thoughts on tradition versus progress? You seem to advocate for both."
Josh recognized the test immediately. This was Violet's way of determining whether he would be an ally or a threat to the established order.
"I believe they can coexist, Lady Grantham," he answered carefully. "Tradition provides stability and continuity—the foundation upon which society rests. Progress provides adaptation and improvement—the means by which society advances. The key is knowing when to preserve and when to change."
"An admirably diplomatic answer," Violet commented. "Though diplomacy can sometimes be another word for indecision."
"Or wisdom," Josh countered gently. "After all, only fools are certain about everything."
To his surprise, Violet's lips twitched in what might have been approval. "Indeed. And what changes would you advocate for Downton, given the chance?"
"I'd need to understand it better first," Josh replied. "One can't improve what one doesn't comprehend. Though I imagine modern agricultural techniques might increase yields, and updating some of the infrastructure could reduce maintenance costs long-term."
Robert leaned forward with interest. "You've studied agriculture?"
"I've read about it," Josh admitted. "Medicine teaches you that all systems—whether human bodies or estates—function better with proper maintenance and occasional updates."
"Estates aren't patients, Dr. Crawley," Mary interjected.
"No," Josh agreed, turning to her. "They're more complex. A patient's needs are immediate and individual. An estate must balance the needs of family, servants, tenants, and the land itself. It requires a deeper understanding and a lighter touch."
Mary's eyes widened slightly at this response, and Josh saw Robert nodding approvingly.
The conversation shifted as the main course was served—magnificent roasted beef with all the accompaniments. Josh noticed Matthew had relaxed somewhat, drawn into discussion with Edith about legal matters where he could shine with his professional knowledge.
"Your brother seems quite knowledgeable," Mary commented quietly to Josh.
"Matthew's brilliant at his work," Josh replied. "He just needs to find his confidence in other arenas."
"And you?" Mary asked. "You seem confident everywhere."
"An illusion, I assure you," Josh said with a slight smile. "I'm just better at hiding my uncertainties."
"Somehow I doubt you have many uncertainties," Mary observed.
"We all have them," Josh replied, his voice dropping to a more intimate register. "The question is what we do despite them."
Mary held his gaze for a long moment before turning back to her dinner. Josh caught Cora watching their interaction with interest.
As the meal progressed through multiple courses—game, salad, pudding—Josh found himself genuinely enjoying the evening. The conversation ranged widely, from politics (carefully navigated) to literature to local affairs. He was particularly pleased to see Isobel holding her own, her intelligence and warmth gradually winning over even the initially skeptical Robert.
"I must say," Cora commented during the cheese course, "it's refreshing to have new voices at our table. We can become rather insular here at Downton."
"Fresh blood," Violet pronounced with characteristic directness. "Every family needs it occasionally, though one hopes it's the right sort."
"And what sort is that, Granny?" Sybil asked innocently.
"The sort that strengthens rather than dilutes," Violet replied, her gaze lingering on Josh. "Time will tell which category our cousins fall into."
"I prefer to think we might create a new category entirely," Josh suggested boldly. "One that combines the best of both worlds."
"How optimistic," Mary murmured, though Josh caught a glint of interest in her eyes.
"I prefer to think of it as realistic," he replied. "After all, the world is changing whether we acknowledge it or not. The question is whether we'll help shape that change or be shaped by it."
"And you intend to be a shaper, I take it?" Robert asked.
"I intend to do what's best for Downton and its people," Josh answered diplomatically. "Whatever form that takes."
When the ladies withdrew after dinner, leaving the men to their port and cigars, Josh found himself under more direct scrutiny from Robert.
"So," the Earl said, settling back in his chair. "What are your real thoughts about inheriting all this?"
Josh considered his answer carefully. This was a crucial moment—Robert was offering him a chance for honesty, man to man.
"Honestly? It's overwhelming," Josh admitted. "I've spent my life training to heal individual people. Now I'm expected to shepherd an entire estate and everyone connected to it. The responsibility is..."
"Terrifying?" Robert suggested with unexpected understanding.
"Challenging," Josh corrected with a wry smile. "But I've never shied away from challenges."
"And your medical practice? You truly intend to continue?"
"As much as possible, yes. I believe having a profession grounds a man, gives him purpose beyond his social position." Josh paused, then added carefully, "I hope that doesn't disappoint you."
Robert was quiet for a moment, swirling his port. "My father would have been appalled," he said finally. "He believed the aristocracy should be above such middle-class concerns as professions."
"And you?"
"I think perhaps the world is changing, as you said earlier. Maybe it's time for the aristocracy to change with it." Robert met his eyes directly. "You may be exactly what Downton needs, Dr. Crawley. Someone who understands both worlds."
It was more acceptance than Josh had dared hope for on his first night. He raised his glass slightly. "I'll do my best to prove worthy of your trust, Lord Grantham."
"Robert," the Earl corrected. "We're family now. And please, do call me Robert."
As they rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, Josh felt a surge of satisfaction. The evening had gone better than he'd dared hope. He'd navigated the social minefield successfully, made inroads with Robert, and even earned what seemed like grudging approval from Violet.
But it was Mary who remained the biggest question mark. She was seated at the piano now, playing a Chopin nocturne with surprising skill. Josh moved to stand near the instrument, watching her fingers move across the keys.
"Beautiful," he commented when she finished. "You play wonderfully."
"One of the accomplishments expected of ladies of my station," Mary replied, though she seemed pleased by the compliment. "Along with embroidery, watercolors, and the ability to make insipid conversation."
"Your conversation is anything but insipid," Josh observed.
"Careful, Dr. Crawley. That almost sounded like a compliment."
"It was meant as one."
Mary looked up at him, something unguarded flickering across her face. "You're not what I expected," she admitted quietly.
"Better or worse?"
"I haven't decided yet," she replied, but there was a softness to her expression that hadn't been there before.
The evening wound down naturally after that. As the Crawleys prepared to leave, there were genuine warm farewells all around. Even Violet seemed less glacial than she had at the beginning of the evening.
"You must dine with us again soon," Cora insisted. "It's been such a pleasure having you."
"We've enjoyed it immensely," Isobel replied with genuine warmth. "Thank you for making us feel so welcome."
As they stood in the entrance hall waiting for the car, Mary approached Josh one last time.
"Dr. Crawley," she said formally, then dropped her voice. "Joshua. May I call you Joshua?"
"I'd be honored," he replied, his pulse quickening at her use of his first name.
"I meant what I said earlier. You're not what I expected. That's... not necessarily a bad thing."
Before he could respond, she had turned and glided back toward the stairs, leaving him with the memory of her perfume and a sense of possibilities opening before him.
The ride back to Crawley House was quiet, each of them lost in their own thoughts about the evening.
"Well," Isobel finally said as they pulled up to their door. "That was certainly an experience."
"It went well, I think," Matthew offered. "They seemed... accepting."
"More than that," Josh said quietly. "I think we may have actually impressed them."
As they entered Crawley House, Molesley appeared, having waited up for their return despite the late hour.
"I trust the evening was successful, sir?" he asked anxiously.
"Very successful, Molesley," Josh assured him. "Thank you for waiting up."
As Josh prepared for bed, he reflected on the evening's achievements. He'd successfully navigated his first formal dinner at Downton, made progress with almost every member of the family, and most importantly, had begun to crack through Mary's defensive shell.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges—shifts at the hospital with Dr. Clarkson, his mother's inevitable clash with Violet over medical matters, Matthew's determination to maintain his legal practice despite the inheritance. But tonight had proven that he could handle whatever this new life threw at him.
He thought of Mary's final words to him, the way she'd said his name. It was a small victory, but a significant one. The game was progressing exactly as he'd hoped.
Outside his window, the Yorkshire night was peaceful and still. But Josh knew that beneath the calm surface, changes were already beginning. His presence here was creating ripples that would eventually become waves.
He smiled to himself as he turned out the light. Let the changes come. He was ready for them all.
---
*Meanwhile, at Downton Abbey*
In her bedroom, Mary sat at her dressing table as Anna carefully removed the pins from her elaborate hairstyle.
"Did you enjoy the evening, my lady?" Anna asked gently.
Mary met her maid's eyes in the mirror. "It was... interesting," she admitted. "Dr. Crawley is not what I expected."
"In what way, my lady?"
Mary considered her answer. "He's intelligent. Confident without being arrogant. And he actually listens when one speaks, which is more than can be said for most men of my acquaintance."
"He sounds impressive," Anna observed carefully.
"Perhaps," Mary allowed. "Though I'm not ready to trust him yet. Men like Dr. Crawley—Joshua—often have hidden agendas."
"Maybe his only agenda is to do right by Downton," Anna suggested.
Mary turned to look at her maid directly. "You're very optimistic, Anna. I hope you're right. For all our sakes."
After Anna left, Mary remained at her dressing table, lost in thought. Joshua Crawley was a puzzle—a middle-class doctor who carried himself like he'd been born to privilege, a surgeon who quoted literature and understood the complexities of estate management.
Most disturbing of all, he was the first man in years to actually intrigue her. Patrick had been safe, familiar, suitable. Joshua was none of those things, which made him far more dangerous to her carefully constructed defenses.
Tomorrow she would rebuild her walls, retreat behind her usual cool reserve. But tonight, she allowed herself to remember the way he'd looked at her, the warmth in his voice when he'd complimented her playing.
Change was coming to Downton Abbey. The question was whether she would resist it or embrace it. For the first time in months, Mary wasn't entirely sure of her answer.
---
*In the servants' hall*
The post-dinner analysis was in full swing, with the servants dissecting every detail of the evening.
"They held themselves well," Carson admitted grudgingly. "Their table manners were quite proper."
"That's high praise coming from you, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes teased gently.
"Did you see how Dr. Crawley helped serve Lady Grantham?" Daisy piped up from her corner. "Ever so natural, like he'd done it a thousand times."
"And Mr. Matthew's conversation with Lady Edith," William added. "She seemed right pleased to have someone to talk to about books and such."
Thomas and O'Brien exchanged sour looks. The evening had not gone according to their hopes.
"One dinner doesn't make them suitable," O'Brien muttered. "Mark my words, their true colors will show soon enough."
"Perhaps," Mrs. Hughes said firmly, "we should judge them by their actions rather than our prejudices. Dr. Crawley saved Tom Bingham's leg yesterday, and Mrs. Crawley seems genuinely interested in helping at the hospital."
"Helping or interfering?" Thomas asked with his usual sneer.
"That remains to be seen," Carson interjected. "But for now, they are his lordship's guests and heirs. They will be treated with appropriate respect."
Anna, quietly mending in her corner, thought about Lady Mary's response to the new heir. She'd served her mistress long enough to read her moods, and tonight she'd seen something she hadn't seen in months—genuine interest, even attraction.
Perhaps these Crawleys would bring more than change to Downton. Perhaps they'd bring hope.
---
Back at Crawley House, Josh stood at his window one last time before bed, gazing toward where Downton Abbey lay hidden in the darkness. The first dinner had been a success, but it was only the beginning. Tomorrow he would return to the hospital, begin establishing himself in the community as more than just the heir.
But tonight, he allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. He'd made a good impression, started building relationships, and most importantly, had seen behind Mary's careful facade.
The future was unfolding exactly as he'd hoped. And the best was yet to come.