I hearby do solemnly declare (are you listening, Downton Lover?!) that I will continue to give the characters of Tom and Sybil the care and devotion they deserve….this primarily remains their story, but the plot which surrounds it is impacted by others. I appreciate that this tale offers more angst than the last, but only because I want to portray that no couple strolls off into the sunset without a problem or two along the way. Almost all scenes will include at least one of them and I promise that there will be plenty which are exclusively both.

Thank you for the initial positive comments – please continue to review (or start to if you haven't before…)

Sybil felt her heart swell with pride as she turned around to see Tom leading Fiona down the aisle. He was smiling at members of the congregation as he passed, rubbing his sister's hand with his thumb to help calm her nerves. Fiona had a fixed beam on her face, her eyes focussed solely on the back of Niall's neck as he stood with his best man before the priest. When Tom reached the front, he glanced briefly to the left and flashed Sybil a quick grin, just as Niall turned around to greet his bride with a look of appreciative relief. Tom smiled at his new brother-in-law, kissed Fiona on the cheek and stepped aside to stand next to his mother. Elaine leant towards him and rested her hand on his arm. This was an emotional day for her; her happiness for her daughter mixed with regret that her husband had not lived to see his children begin to forge their own families.

Fiona handed her bouquet to one of her bridesmaids, just as the silence was broken by a loud squeal from Aiden, sitting on Edie's knee, next to Sybil. A collective laugh rang out from friends and family, relieved to break the nervous sensation of excitement and anticipation around the forthcoming event. The couple made their vows to one another and guests reflected on those they had made previously or may make one day in the future. Sybil was sitting in the second row, behind Tom, his mother and the bridesmaids and she and Kieran helped to entertain Aiden as he was passed along the pew, finding endless fascination with earrings and buttonholes, as well as prayer books which his chubby hands could hold and satisfactorily fling to the floor.

Although Sybil didn't consider herself particularly religious, she felt moved by some of the sentiment behind the ceremony. As the priest spoke gently to Fiona and Niall, *"In becoming husband and wife you give yourselves to each other for life. You promise to be true and faithful, to support and cherish each other until death, so that your years together will be the living out in love of the pledge you now make." Tom's hand reached behind him and squeezed her right knee. She quickly placed her hand on his before he sat forward again and she exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Edie.

After the signing of the register, Fiona and Niall returned looking at last relaxed and radiant. Tom led Niall's mother behind them out of the church and the congregation followed them outside into the cloudy, but thankfully dry day. Sybil stayed back from the photographs, but was called forward by Elaine to stand in a Branson family pose.

"But I'm not…." she muttered with embarrassment, as other guests stared at her with curiosity. Tom's aristocratic girlfriend was a topic of frequent discussion and they were delighted to have an opportunity to gaze upon her.

"Ah, come on now" called Elaine cheerfully "I've no doubt that you one day will be…"

As Tom wrapped his arm around her waist and she turned to smile into the camera, Kieran leant towards her and whispered with a grin.

"Don't worry….if you ever leave him, we'll just photoshop you out…."

Sybil found herself sitting with Edie, Kieran and their aunt Shelagh's family, separated from Tom who was representing his father on the top table. Elaine's younger sister had met Sybil briefly when she had come over for Aiden's christening in June, but it had been such a flying visit that they had barely exchanged more than pleasantries at the time.

"Now don't you look lovely…" she said as the initial formalities ended and they tucked into their first course. "…beautiful dress, Sybil….very posh…"

"That's because she is posh, Mam…" muttered her teenage son, Daniel from her other side.

"Shhh" whispered Sybil, making the young man jump and his cheeks turn crimson "it's all a front you know….keep my secret for me, will you?"

"A front for what?" he asked hesitantly, feeling uncertain how to respond.

Sybil raised one eyebrow in a manner she had seen her sister Mary perform on many occasions. "I could tell you Daniel…." her voice turned to a low murmur "but I'm afraid that then I would have to kill you…." and she gave him a slow wink. He looked startled for a moment, glanced down at his soup and then looked up and grinned.

"Sybil, is it true that you're really a princess…?" Daniel's younger sister, Lauren leant forward to ask. Sybil smiled and shook her head.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but no…..just a midwife."

"But don't you live in a castle?" the youngster continued.

"I'm afraid not, I live in a two bedroomed flat in South London….My Mum and Dad do live in a pretty big house, but it's not really a castle…"

"Have you met the Queen?"

"No…sorry.."

"Kate Middleton?" was the hopeful plea.

"No, none of them. My Dad has met the Queen and Prince Charles, but he didn't give me any gossip, I'm afraid."

"Haven't you met anyone famous?"

Sybil thought for a moment "a few boring British politicians, but I did go to uni with Robert Pattinson's cousin….is that any good?". Lauren shrugged non-committedly and returned to her meal.

"Well, we've all heard how you saved the day when Aiden arrived" said Shelagh smiling.

"Luckily, I'm in the right job" replied Sybil

"Still….wasn't it a bit frightening?"

"Um…yes, a little, but fortunately, there weren't any problems so it all turned out ok."

"And Tom's moved in with you now, I hear?"

"Yes…" Sybil nodded and glanced shyly at his aunt.

"Well, he's clearly smitten…"

"I'm glad to hear it!"

"He seems much more relaxed than when he was with that Char…." Shelagh coughed suddenly and concentrated on the meal before her. Glancing to her right, Sybil saw Edie roll her eyes and offer an apologetic glance.

In the pause between courses, Tom came over and kissed Sybil on the top of her head.

"Everything OK everyone?" he asked and was met by a sea of murmuring assent. He pulled at the front of his suit trousers and squatted down beside her.

"How are you feeling about the speech?" she asked, reaching forward and holding his hand gently. It had been difficult to write and Sybil had seen Tom become emotional about his father's passing for the first time as he struggled to adequately address his absence on such an important day, without deflecting from Fiona's celebration. He nodded and made an anxious face at her.

"Bit nervous to be honest….I'm not really tasting my dinner much…I just don't want to let Fiona down, you know?"

Sybil leant forward and kissed him. "You won't…" she said firmly. "It's very moving and fitting…they'll all cry, but in a good way…I'm sure…"

"If I go blank, will you mouth the words at me?"

"Of course….but you won't…."

Fiona turned and hugged Tom when he sat back down after his speech, wiping her eyes but assuring him that it had been wonderful. The guests coughed and smiled at one another as they applauded and the best man wondered how he could adequately follow on.

Tom accepted the glowing praise and appreciative pats on the back with good grace, but he pulled Sybil closely towards him at the first possible opportunity and moved her towards the side of the room, away from inquisitive eyes.

"You were great" she said and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He made a face "Really?...I felt as if I was on the verge of tears most of the way through it…"

"Honestly…I was really proud."

He smiled and kissed her. "Thanks. So how was your table? Did Shelagh give you a grilling?"

"A bit…but it wasn't too bad…..no it was fine, really…they're all lovely and Aiden kept us entertained."

"So you're enjoying your first Irish wedding, then?...think you might like to have one of your own one day?" he smiled and nuzzled her neck.

"If you think you're marrying me anywhere but Downton, then good luck…."

"Ah…." he nodded solemnly…."I guess we'll need to have that discussion at some point…"

"Well not until you ask me properly, we won't…."

"Patience, patience….."

"There's no Catholic church in Downton by the way…."

"Well I couldn't care less, but I expect Mam will have something to say about it."

Sybil looked seriously at him for a moment. "Do you want your children…..I mean, our children….to be Catholic?"

He gave a short, involuntary sigh and raised his eyebrows. "Now we're really having a big conversation…"

"Well weddings inspire me to think about the bigger questions, I suppose. Don't worry, I won't hold you to whatever you say, but we've never talked about it."

Tom offered a friendly smile at a cousin passing him and nodded at Kieran, who was at the bar waving his hand to ask if they wanted drinks.

"I suppose I've always presumed that my children would be Catholic, just because we all are and that's what everyone here does…..I've not really given it a great amount of thought though..." he smiled at her lovingly "…probably because until recently, I hadn't met anyone that I wanted to have them with….But it would be a bit hypocritical of me to insist on it when I don't go to church regularly, but mind you, neither do you."

"No, so I wouldn't mind just not having them christened at all and then let them make up their own mind when they're older."

"It's them now, is it…? How many are we having?" he teased.

"Who knows, I see so many sad stories at work that I'll be grateful for one."

"And what would your parents say about having a heathen grandchild, do you think?"

"Oh Dad would probably bluster quite a bit, but Mum would be OK. She's half Jewish anyway, so she's never had any fixed ideas about faith…..what would your Mum say?"

"I can quite confidently predict that she'd have a fit!...But it's not her decision to make…..she'd go on about the child going to hell if something happened…"

"Do you believe that?"

"I'm not sure what I believe, to be honest…..probably not that, no, but I do believe that there's something…." he turned and gratefully took a pint from Kieran who had appeared at their side and who passed Sybil her glass.

"We're just talking about our Catholic indoctrination, Kieran…do you think people go to hell if they're not christened?"

"Bloody hell Tom, we're at a wedding, not a funeral…. " he looked at Sybil with an eyebrow raised "is he always this much fun at home?!"

"It's my fault…" she admitted, grinning. "I'm interrogating him, instead of celebrating with him. I'll stop now…cheers everyone!"

After clinking glasses, Sybil reached for Tom's hand who gave it a squeeze. The vast differences in their backgrounds had never given her particular cause for concern; she basked in their mutual affection and gave scant consideration for circumstances outside of the narrow world they now shared. However as they prepared to face the future together, she was beginning to have a little appreciation of the compromise and conciliation that would be required.

"Right, we'll pick up the bus by Grafton Street and go from there." Tom declared as they sat on the local bus into Dublin City Centre two days later. They were both feeling fairly exhausted after two days of heavy celebration and hadn't left Elaine's house until midday. Sybil had made her first brief visit to Dublin three months earlier, after Edie had decided to have her son christened back in her home town. Having not attended church while in London, her request to conduct a service in Clapham had not been well received by the local priest, who also expressed disapproval at her unmarried status. Elaine had made enquiries at her local church, where Father Quinn, who had known the family for 15 years, agreed to perform the ceremony without blame or recrimination.

Both Tom and Kieran had been in the first weeks of their respective new jobs and were unable to take any leave, so they had all flown out on the Saturday morning, returning back to London after the Sunday service. Sybil's stay had been a whirlwind of meeting aunts, uncles and cousins and she had seen nothing of the city except on the journey to and from the airport. This time however, Tom had declared his intention to act as her guide and they had three days to explore before returning home.

On this first day, they had decided to take the open air city sightseeing bus, planning to return subsequently in order to visit sights which Sybil found of interest.

"So when was the last time you did this?" she asked excitedly "Or have you ever? I don't think I've been on the London one since I was a small child."

Tom looked out of the window, hoping to sound deliberately vague.

"Er…a few years ago, I guess.."

Sybil found herself glaring resentfully at the side of his head.

"With Charlotte, I suppose…." she muttered

Tom sighed quietly and took her hand. "It's what you do when you bring people to Dublin."

"And how many times did she come over with you?"

"Twice, I think."

She provided a sulky expression that would match any toddler. "Huh, well I've already matched her then…"

Tom put his arm around her and gave her shoulders a squeeze, leaning in to softly kiss her cheek. "It's not a competition, Syb…..and if it was, you'd win it, hands down, you know that."

Tom hadn't anticipated the jealousy that his previous attempt at co-habitation would create. Despite the inauspicious start to their own relationship, he knew that Sybil was at heart a kind and good natured woman. She could be feisty when her beliefs or opinions were challenged, argumentative if she felt that she had been misunderstood, but fundamentally she saw the best in people and situations. However, on this particular issue, he seemed unable to dispel the envy caused, despite his repeated assurances that the two experiences were incomparable. It was his own fault, in hindsight. He had unthinkingly said something so stupid and avoidable in the week prior to his moving into her flat. They had been in a pub after work, discussing household chores, including food shopping and how they would divide the task, when he had been distracted by football scores appearing on the TV up in the corner of the room.

"What do you think is the best way to do it?" Sybil had asked. Inadvertently and without thinking, he had replied

"Well Charlotte and I used to just take it in turns." He had regretted it instantly. Had he substituted the word Charlotte with his sister's name, then he felt sure that Sybil would have continued the discussion without angst. However, her lips had instantly pursed and she had taken a deep breath as he quickly tried to cover his tracks.

"But you know, we can do whatever you think best, Syb….um, pool our money and do it together at the weekend, or just see who's got the most time each week…" he tailed off lamely and offered an apologetic "sorry, I shouldn't have said that..."

Since then, any conversation about compromise or deliberation was met with a sarcastic "so, what did you and Charlotte do…?" and no amount of reassurance appeared to be able to dissipate such comments. He was certain that Sybil understood how much he loved her; after all he told her frequently and had made it repeatedly clear that he was in unprecedented territory regarding his feelings. He thought that in all likelihood, her age meant that she was in this particular case, more emotionally immature, although in other areas she seemed older than her years. He had learned through experience that it was better not to dwell on previous relationships or offer detailed information. If he was to contemplate Sybil's association with her ex-boyfriend, Larry; the amount of time he had spent at Downton with her family, their shared experiences, the fact that he had taken her virginity….in fact, he didn't want to think about it one little bit. He had the skill to be able to compartmentalise such thoughts and avoid giving them any undue consideration. Otherwise they ate you up and tainted your enjoyment of the present.

He loved living with Sybil. Waking up and seeing her lying next to him each morning made him glow with happiness. They were each getting used to their new circumstances; he was learning where everything was kept and she had to adjust to having another body moving around in her familiar space. However, they were revelling in sharing everyday tasks together and while they still went out and enjoyed socialising together, just being with her at home brought him a unique sense of contentment. He liked nothing more than to be curled up on the sofa with her, watching TV, or sitting side by side – one of them reading, the other on a laptop or tablet – occasionally offering the other a comment or aside. She stimulated him intellectually as well, which he appreciated; arguing about politics, or challenging him about his personal viewpoints.

He didn't remember feeling anywhere near the same level of contentment when he had moved in with Charlotte, although Sybil's repeated insecurity had made him recently reflect on the experience. There had been no sensation that moving in together was likely to be the first step of many; however he did remember some enjoyment from sharing domestic life. There had been plenty of laughter in the early months, she had a good sense of humour and they enjoyed a lot of the same things. Having someone attractive and enthusiastic about him had been a novelty after unkempt flat mates and his siblings at home. 'Sex on tap' he remembered joking with his mates when they had teased him about his domesticity. But after a while, the novelty had faded and while they didn't antagonise one another, they spent an increasing amount of time with their own friends and less together. Then Charlotte had started to want to talk about the future, which he generally tried to avoid and eventually, after 21 months of living together, she had issued him with an ultimatum – offer a commitment, or leave. It hadn't been a difficult decision and he had moved out two days later, leaving a resigned Charlotte, red eyed and resentful. He had missed her company for a while, finding a new rhythm with a fresh set of flatmates and male camaradie. However, he had never regretted his choice, nor had any sense of subsequent reservation. If Sybil was to ever ask him to leave, he had no doubt that he would feel utterly devastated and bereft. The two situations were, in his mind, entirely incomparable. However, he understood to a certain degree that Sybil felt envious that their first steps together shadowed his previous circumstances. Her joy was tarnished by her awareness of another woman who had trodden a similar path, regardless of his unrivalled devotion to her. He knew that only time would erode her jealousy and as far as he was concerned, that was limitless.

*Irish wedding vows taken from www getting married ie