A/N - I'm still trying to rally my DA enthusiasm after witnessing hatchetman Fellowes stalk his latest holiday victim. I mean really WTF? Do all the shippers on this site have the blues or what?

I've been away from this story far too long (literally was on the other side of the world for a bit) but finally managed to craft another installment. Important decisions get made, but is everything as it should be? Curious to know what awaits S/T in their new adventure? Thanks for all the lovely and enlightening comments. Enjoy!

Chapter 4 - Duty

Freshly cut grass had a sharp citrusy smell, Tom noticed as he stood on the edge of Downton's grand lawn. The manicured grounds had never looked more spectacular. The clouds the day before had departed the sky leaving it a perfect blue for Cora's annual garden party to raise funds for the village's Cottage Hospital. There was a hush of voices as couples and quartets of guests milled about while Jimmy and Alfred—trays of champagne glasses carefully balanced—swooped in and around them like starlings. From across the lawn, Tom caught sight of Sybil who wore a flowered cotton shift and wide brimmed straw hat. He could see her sitting under the main tent chatting with two of her friends who had joined the party from nearby estates.

Tom's thoughts drifted to another garden party—the one where he informed Sybil that she had succeeded in finding the housemaid Gwen a secretarial job. Her giddiness was infectious. Overwhelmed by Sybil's excitement, Tom had spontaneously entwined his hand in hers. Mrs. Hughes had discreetly upbraided him. The head housekeeper was correct he could have gotten sacked for such a brazen gesture of familiarity toward his Lordship's youngest daughter. And yet neither did Sybil refuse his hand nor did she express displeasure. She had smiled warmly then walked away. It was at that moment he knew she was different from the others and that there was hope his growing affections might be returned. That garden party was several years ago and a war away. His heart had been right that August afternoon—she would grow to love more than he could have ever imagined.

"Ah, fine day," Matthew remarked as he walked up to take in the view with his brother-in-law.

"Indeed 'tis a fine day," Branson squinted in the glare of the early afternoon sun as he turned his head to reply to Matthew.

"I think our dear mother-in-law rallied everyone in the village to put in an appearance this afternoon," Matthew observed of the crowds on the lawn, far more guests than the pre-war parties had drawn.

Surveying the bustling scene before him, Tom replied "Looks more like she invited the entire county!"

"When Cousin Cora is determined the only solution is to surrender or so I've learned."

"I can see where our wives get their wherewithal," Tom chuckled. "I hope this proves a successful effort for the hospital. When Sybil was there I noticed all the equipment had had the once over. And the wards are in need of a good coat of paint."

"It's one of the estate's main obligations to the village. So I heartily agree we need to modernize that along with many of the ways things get done around here," Matthew revealed another facet of his grand plans for Downton.

"In due time," Tom reminded Matthew who he knew was hell bent on making the estate run more efficiently.

"The time is now, my friend. One has to strike while the iron is hot."

"You're right. Time is certainly of the essence when one needs to move ahead," Tom replied.

"Sounds as if you are making plans of your own," Matthew picked up on Tom's intimation.

"May I ask you something? Something personal?" Tom asked earnestly.

"Certainly. I'd like to think we're friends."

"I don't think staying at Downton will be good for Sybil, for the long term I mean. After she lost the baby, her parents have taken good care of her. They've taken good care of me for that matter. And I'm grateful for all they've done," Tom began to layout his plan.

"Sound's like a big 'but' in the middle there somewhere, and I suspect that 'but' is the one that's going put Robert's nose out of joint. Am I correct?"

"You know our situation all too well," Tom said. "Here's my dilemma: I think its time Sybil and I left Downton, but I don't want to upset the apple cart."

"It's your lives, do as you please," Matthew suggested cavalierly.

"That may be true. But it's not that simple when you're part of this family," Tom reminded the future heir to the estate.

"Why leave now?" Matthew then asked.

"As for the 'why now' its fairly obvious—Sybil's not been herself since she lost the baby—depressed, moody, withdrawn. She's gotten better in the last two weeks, its good to see her out of the house and talking with her friends. But I'm convinced she needs a change," Tom revealed.

"But if staying here has helped her get better, is it wise to leave now?"

"I'm not sure it is good for her to stay around a life she left behind," Tom said. "Lord and Lady Grantham may mean well but they have their own agenda for her recovery. Listen, when I suggested to her mother that Sybil help with planning the garden party, she flat out turned down the idea."

"Sounds like a reasonable suggestion to me."

"Her mother thought it would be too much of a strain on Sybil. Something about Sybil not overextending herself, needing to rest."

"Clarkson did advise limited activity did he not?"

"Yes, but he didn't say for her to stay comatose," Tom said. "If there's one thing I know about my wife is that she rises to a challenge. She needs to be busy, to work. Sitting around Downton, making calls and serving tea is not who she is."

"Curious how sisters turn out. My wife relishes Downton's duties and protocols. Your wife can't abide them."

"You have to admit they both have their own minds though," Tom reminded his friend.

"And neither of us are allowed to forget it!" Matthew laughed. "If you leave where will you go? Dublin is clearly out of the question. From the sounds of it you'll be arrested as soon as you step off the ferry."

"I don't know—London, Norwich maybe," Tom confessed about the missing link in his plan. "I do know this, I have to talk to Sybil and soon."

"You have to do what's best for your family."

"Problem is Lord Grantham will want to do what's best for his family," Tom paid heed to the strong will of the family's patriarch.

"He might," Matthew cautioned.

"You know he will. I'm also reluctant to cause too much friction right now given Sybil's fragile state. Remember what happened when we announced our plans to marry."

"That was rough going."

"Her father tried to cut Sybil off, then when that failed he tried to buy me off."

"Did he!" Matthew was shocked at this revelation. "I had no idea Robert went that far—tried buying you off?"

"I've put it behind us. But I'm afraid he might try to put up obstacles to us leaving again."

"Look," Matthew reached over and placed his hand on Tom's shoulder. "As I said: you have to do what's best for your family. Don't let Robert or Cora persuade you otherwise."

"I will" Tom looked over and nodded. He was relieved to get support from Matthew, "Thank you."

"What are you two conspiring about? You look thick as thieves," Mary inquired as she strolled over to stand between the two men and hooked her arm through Matthew's.

"Tom and I were both saying how much pleasure we derive from being married to Crawley women," Matthew teased offering a condensed version of their conversation.

"Pleasure? Or pain? Or a little of both," Mary quipped.

Matthew and Tom both laughed at Mary's question.

Matthew warned: "Don't answer that, it's obviously a trap!"

"Regardless of what you've decided it's far too lovely an afternoon to waste perfectly good champagne, let's go find a some," Mary tugged at Matthew and the two sauntered across the lawn.

Heading the other direction, Tom walked over to the large white tent to find Sybil. He could hear the sound laughter. As he approached the table, he found her being interrogated by two fashionably dressed women who sat facing her in large wicker chairs. He was worried how Sybil would react to being around so many people after her lengthy convalescence, but she seemed to be faring well.

"There you are!" Sybil greeted Tom as he walked up her chair. She took his hand as he stood next to her. "Tom, I'd like you to meet my old friends Julia Ashcroft and Minnie Fitzsimmons—we all came out together."

"Ladies," Tom politely nodded.

"We were just asking Sybil about living in Dublin amongst the Irish people. What fun!" beamed Julia, a small blond woman whose perfume was going to linger long after she had departed.

"Wildly different I dare say," Minnie chimed in displaying her wide toothed grin. "A delicious adventure," she added surveying Tom from head to toe.

Minnie and Julia stood up to leave their friend.

"Now Sybil darling, next time you and Mr. Branson come down to London, you must stay with us at Harrington House. We can pop 'round to Ciros, dance till dawn, have a smashingly good time," Julia suggested as she finished off her glass of champagne and placed it on the nearby table.

"Sybil, you're looking first-rate you know, after your, you know—umm. I'm glad," Minnie said awkwardly, but with the best of intentions as she departed. "Mr. Branson," she raised a brow and bit her lip as if she were about to devour him.

"Good-bye you two. And not too much champagne—you promised," Sybil bid her old friends.

"Us?" said Minnie. "Never!" added Julia. They walked away arm-in-arm all the while giggling ferociously.

"What's that all about?" Tom asked as he sat down. He had the peculiar sense that her friends had just given him the once over as if he were a full-length sable coat. Obviously he was still the fascination of the county—the brash Irish chauffer who had absconded with the Earl's innocent daughter.

"Oh don't mind them. Their world is one of parties, dancing, and more parties. Fun to listen to but I don't envy them," Sybil remarked as she watched them make a beeline for a tray of champagne. She turned her head back to smile warmly at her husband.

"Are you happy to be here with your friends …with your family?" he asked rather cryptically.

"Yes of course, why wouldn't I be?" she replied cocking her head just slightly at his probing question.

"Do you feel like a walk?" Tom suggested.

Sybil nodded yes. Tom stood and offered his hand to help his wife up. They strolled over to the temple at the edge of the lawn then climbed the grassy incline to enter the large folly. Once there, they stood side by side between the tall Corinthian columns that channeled a slight breeze—a welcome relief from the warm mid-afternoon sun. From their vantage point, the grand neo-gothic edifice of Downton sat perfectly framed by the lush landscape that surrounded it.

Sybil let out a heavy sigh. "The quiet is nice."

Tom sensed she was overwhelmed by the revelry of the party. "Its good to take a break from all those people."

As she gazed across the lawn at her family's stately home, she remarked to her husband, "I'd never thought I'd be back here after we left for Dublin a year ago."

"Is that good or bad?" Tom asked trying to gauge her mood before he made his proposal.

Sybil didn't know what she felt about Downton. She didn't know a lot of things lately. While she was glad to be getting around more easily, sometimes she still felt anxious about her next step and where it would take her. She wanted to revive that sense of optimism that had spirited their lives away from here a year ago. She told Tom, "I don't know what it means or how I feel—the world just is right now."

Tom turned toward her and leaned against the smooth surface of the column, "Alright then, what would you say if we were to leave Downton?"

"Go back to Dublin?" Sybil replied confused by what he was asking her. "Oh Tom, I want to go back to our home, I miss it terribly sometimes, but you know we can't till things settle down. We promised Papa."

"No need to worry I'll keep my word. I'll not go back," he assured her.

From that pensive look on his face, Sybil knew he was contemplating something significant: "just what are you asking me?"

"What I mean is what if we were to leave Downton, go to live somewhere else in England? I was thinking we could try going south—outside of London maybe?"

"You want to leave here?" Sybil asked for clarification.

"Yes," he nodded.

"Leave Downton?" she asked again as the implications of his request began to become apparent.

He wanted her to understand his rationale for leaving: "I think its time we were on our own again."

"You mean get away from my family and all its demands," Sybil wondered. "I know it's been hard not quite fitting in with my family or with the staff anymore."

"No, I don't want to escape your family—well not entirely to be honest. As much as I may have had my reservations about them, they've been decent to me. And they'll do anything for the sake of your wellbeing. I understand that now."

"They do like you. Mary likes you, she told me. You and Matthew have become chums. Even Papa is fond of you in his own way—or at least I think so," she tried to reassure Tom just in case his desire to leave was because he thought the family was not on their side.

"Love," Tom walked over, took both her hands and looked affectionately into her eyes. "This isn't about me, it's for your sake. I just think it would be better for you to be away from here."

"But why? I'm almost healed from the surgery since I lost the…" Sybil began. She still had difficulty talking about the death of their daughter a sign that not everything had healed. She took a breath and finished, "since losing the baby."

"You've been steadily improving and I'm proud of your progress," he reached up to stroke her cheek and smiled. "But there's something missing."

"Like what?" she wondered.

"Work. Doing something with your life—isn't that what you've always wanted," Tom reminded her.

Sybil stared intently at Downton in the distance. It was as if she had been doused with spray of cold water. She had forgotten the importance of working to help others had in her life. That ambition had been stalled for quite some time—sacrificed the moment she had to flee Dublin in the dead of the night.

"Your work as a nurse was just beginning to advance when we had to leave."

"Yes, that's true."

"Don't you want to get back to doing that work?"

"I, I, don't know what I want anymore," she revealed looking back at Tom. "What I want could never be. I want to hold my daughter in my arms. Since I lost the baby I haven't had the desire for much else," she explained her solemn mood.

Tom realized now how much Sybil had lost and it wasn't just their child. Many of the expectations of a life together had also been lost over the past six months. He promised he would take care of her and make her happy. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. "We can have that life, but to make it we can't do it here," he said.

She glanced down at the marble terrace.

"At Downton you'll always be Lady Sybil. You'll always be their youngest daughter. You won't be able to do the things that you were meant to do."

Sybil contemplated Tom's honest assessment of their current status. He was right, they needed to lead the life they had planned. They had been both in limbo for several months. Staying at Downton would not be moving forward. "But go where?" she wondered aloud. Then she stumbled upon a possible destination: "Liverpool, what about there? Your brother and his family live there. You've cousins nearby. I know I wasn't too keen on it a while ago, but at least you could find work right away in Kiernan's garage."

"That's…true," he hesitated as he considered his wife's suggestion. Even though Kiernan had managed to maintain his own business, life for his brother and family hadn't been easy. The city's wards had many rough patches of poverty and destitution, poorer in many aspects of daily life than the worst neighborhoods of London. "Liverpool isn't Dublin, its twice as big you know."

"But it does have hospitals—large and small. Once I'm completely out of the woods so far as the doctors are concerned, I'm sure I can find a position as a nurse," she said. "Think about it this way: it will be someplace new for the both of us," Sybil rationalized.

Sybil was right. Downton was her home, Dublin his, but Liverpool would be middle ground, new territory. A place where no one really knew them or more importantly knew who they had been—except Tom's brother. It wouldn't be easy, but it was worth a try. "So you agree to leave then?" he wanted to be sure.

"If you think it best, then yes," she affirmed.

"We'll have to tell your family," Tom said dreading the reaction of her father and mother that he was going to move their daughter to Liverpool.

"Best to inform them tonight I think," Sybil suggested with growing confidence. "With that out of the way we can prepare to leave by the end of the week. We'll have to contact your sister to pack our things and ship them to Liverpool, then…" she strategized their next moves.

Tom placed his hands around Sybil's waist. He was please to see her eager for a new start. Perhaps leaving Downton was what the doctor really should have ordered. "We're off to Liverpool then," he said excitedly.

"It will be, to quote Minnie 'a delicious adventure,'" Sybil leaned in to kiss her husband and seal the deal.

Sybil stood on the main drive watching the team of groundskeepers dismantle the tent whose billowing white fabric glowed in the orange light of sunset. The cool evening air tempered her raging anger. Telling her parents about their impending departure had not gone smoothly. As had been expected, Robert was furious with Tom that he would be taking Sybil away from a place where she was out of harm's way, especially after the calamitous incidents in Dublin and the recent life threatening birth. "To add injury to insult" Robert had yelled, Tom was recklessly moving his daughter to Liverpool—a teeming port city that her father had equated with the likes of Gomorrah. Fortunately, Matthew and Mary had intervened to try and make Robert see that this move was what was best for Sybil. And that she would be safe and happy, so long as she was with her husband.

"I must say that was a close second to your engagement announcement in the heated family argument competition. You and Tom certainly know how to ruffle Papa's feathers," Mary commented as she came outside and stood next to her sister. "Where's Tom? He hasn't upped sticks already has he?"

"Arghhh, sometimes Papa makes me feel like I'm still ten," Sybil clenched her fists aggravated at her father's imperious behavior. "I sent Tom for a walk to calm down. Perhaps, I should've joined him," Sybil kicked few stones on the drive.

"Calm down my dear. Getting angry won't help the situation. Papa can't stop you and Tom from leaving," Mary reminded her.

"That is true, but I would like him for once to support us without having to do battle. Just once!"

"Papa will come around before you leave. He always does."

"Why can't they just accept him? I know Tom's not Matthew—he's not one of us. I knew that when I married him. It'swhy I married him."

"Well if you remember Matthew was a humble solicitor from Manchester before Downton was thrust upon him. He wasn't one of us either and at first he did all he could to refuse the invitation," Mary recalled her husband's difficult transition to his position as the future Lord Grantham.

"Downton's my past, Tom is my future. He has opened a whole new world to me. That's why he makes me happy. I wish Mama and Papa could see that," Sybil lamented.

"I do see it," Cora interjected as she joined her daughters in front of the house. "Mary, Matthew was asking for you. I believe he's waiting for you in the library," her mother relayed the message so that she might have some time with her youngest daughter.

"I'll leave you two alone," Mary got the hint and kissed her sister's cheek.

"Thank you for being in our corner," Sybil said.

"Matthew and I will come visit as soon as you settle. How does that sound?" Mary suggested.

Sybil smiled at Mary's kind offer, "We'd like that very much."

Mary walked back into the house. Cora pulled her shawl around her shoulders. "Carson has laid out a buffet supper in the dining room if you're hungry."

"Thank you I'm not hungry," Sybil brusquely replied.

"Are you tired?" Cora asked as she reached her hand up and pushed back Sybil's hair.

"I am tired, tired of it all," Sybil sighed and looked away.

"I know and I'm sorry. Please understand why Robert gets overly passionate about his fatherly duties. Its only because he wants what's best for his children," Cora defended her husband's actions.

"But Mary, Edith, and I aren't children anymore," Sybil corrected her mother. "I'm a wife with responsibilities to my husband."

Cora put her arm around Sybil. "From the day you were born you always did things differently from Edith and Mary. You walked before they did. You cared in ways they did not. I remember when you assembled in your room a menagerie of broken dolls you were going care for and mend," Cora wistfully recalled her daughter's youth. "Its why I wasn't surprised when you were the first to leave the nest for your nurse's training in York. You've always had a restless spirit and desire to engage the world."

"If you know and accept who I am then why didn't you stand up to Papa in the sitting room an hour ago? You let him criticize Tom at every turn."

"Because as you said: I'm a wife with responsibilities to my husband," Cora reminded her daughter.

Sybil raised her brow at her mother's sharp rejoinder. She had just learned an important lesson about how conflicting familial obligations can often put two people at odds—especially as families grow.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to your father when we're alone tonight. He'll see what Tom is doing is in your best interest," Cora said reassuringly. "And I'm sorry if I too have held you back. I've wanted to take extra special care of you after you lost the baby. A mother never wants her child to go through something so terrible."

For a moment that hollowness in Sybil's heart, the sadness she felt for her baby returned. She fought back a tear. Sensing her daughter's sudden change in mood, Cora gently kissed Sybil on her forehead and caressed her arm.

"I'm very proud of the woman you have become," Cora said lovingly. "And in your choice of husbands. Tom saved your life during labor by insisting you go to the hospital."

"Thank you Mama," Sybil replied pleased to know her mother was accepting of Tom.

"Remember I too had a taste of what its like to be an outsider in this family. I know all too well what unreasonably high expectations your father and grandmother have of everyone who joins the Crawleys," Cora confessed. "You'll be fine in Liverpool. You've got more gumption, as we Americans like to say, than anyone in the family. It's time you and Tom moved on to start that family of your own."

Sybil wrapped her arm around her mother's waist and gently squeezed. She felt an extraordinary sense of relief to hear Cora affirm the decisions she had made in her life. She realized her parents' validation was something that had also gone missing amidst turmoil over the past few months. With it Sybil felt more confident about where her next steps were taking her.

Mr. Carson appeared to inform Cora that the buffet was ready if she would like to join her husband in the dining room.

Just ambling up the drive, Tom returned from his stroll. Sybil left her mother to meet him. When they met up she entwined her hand in his and they walked the rest of the way to the front door where Mr. Carson stood waiting. They were ready to leave Downton.

Up next - Life in Liverpool, but will it be delicious adventure?