The London season had ended and Sybil's coming-out had been a success. There were plenty of offers from young men of impeccable pedigree and she got to live it up in Europe's greatest city. But she longed for Downton.

Sybil actually preferred London's rustle and bustle over Downton and the country's quiet, but there is where her friends are. Others would laugh at how she thought servants could ever be called friends but that is how she saw them. Carson the butler and Mrs. Hughes the housekeeper had practically raised her and her sisters. William and Thomas the footmen, and Gwen and Anna and the other housemaids were village boys and girls she had grown up with.

Then there was Branson. She had grown fond of the Irishman in the 2 years since he started working for her family. He shared her political views and didn't dissuade her from having views in the first place. She admired his optimism for a better future for Ireland and his general concern for the welfare of them less fortunate.

Sybil's grandmother The Dowager Countess had noticed their connection and deemed it inappropriate. Treat the servants decently but keep them at arms length is how its always been.

Lady Grantham answered back, "Branson and that Gwen girl are Sybil's creatures, as Anna is Mary's, Carson and Bates are Robert's and O'Brien is mine."

"Your household is divided. Who will I side with if war erupts among you?", The Dowager dryly remarked.

Sybil made her way to the garage where Branson was tinkering away at an engine. She had gotten used to the smell of motor oil, the heat of engine blocks, the roar of motors and the smooth and hard texture of a car chassis.

"Welcome home, Milady", he said. "I trust your season was a success?"

"It was. I think so. Better than Edith's, Mary had said."

"Are there... suitors in your future?"

Sybil blushed at his question, so direct and informal. So like him. "Lots. I don't like any of them yet. Even if I did, Mama and Papa always saw something wrong with them. Lord Crosby was too Catholic. Sir Martin Tours was too lowly. Lord Townsend is just stupid."

"I'm pleased" then he quickly added "That you didn't jump into any arrangement so quickly. Marriage is a serious business best done only once."

"What of you?" She decided to be direct as well. "Did you leave a trail of broken hearts back in Ireland? Are there girls back there looking out into the Irish Sea, hoping that they would have the honor of being the first to see you when you come back?" He nodded a no. "How about here in England? In York?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Is she... someone I know? Does she live close by?"

"Closer than you think." His eyes met hers.

Sybil felt beads of sweat run down her back. None of the cars were running and the garage door open. Why was it so hot in here?, she thought. "I have to go freshen up. I'll leave you to your work."

"Thank you for visiting. Good evening, Milady."

Sybil entered the house through the patio door and went to her room. She lay flat n her back in bed.

"It truly is good to be home."