Once again, thank you for all the words of encouragement :)

Now it's time to return (as expected) to 1920. Hope that you'll enjoy this chapter as well.

Preparing for the Big Event 1920

My heart is like a singing bird

Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;

My heart is like an apple-tree

Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;

My heart is like a rainbow shell

That paddles in a halcyon sea;

My heart is gladder than all these,

Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a daïs of silk and down;

Hang it with vair and purple dyes;

Carve it in doves and pomegranates,

And peacocks with a hundred eyes;

Work it in gold and silver grapes,

In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;

Because the birthday of my life

Is come, my love is come to me.

- Christina Rossetti "A Birthday"

September 1920

After what had happened in the drawing room, the Bransons decided to break the news about Saoirse's christening to each member of the family separately - they couldn't risk another display of violent emotions.

Sybil undertook to tell Lord Grantham on her own that his granddaughter would be christened in the Catholic faith. She felt that it was a conversation that needed to be held just between the two of them and that it would be better to clarify certain things to her father before he had any talk about the matter with Tom.

When Robert Crawley heard the news, he turned pale and clenched his fists in silent annoyance.

"Why do you do as he pleases?" Robert finally uttered.

"I don't do what Tom wants, I do what I think is the right thing to do. There's nothing wrong in doing things for the one you love as long as you judge that it is the right thing. I love Tom, and I know that christening Saoirse in the Catholic faith will make him happy. And if it makes him happy, it will make me happy as well."

"Do you feel no connection to the faith that you were baptized into?"

Sybil pondered that question for a while, trying to choose the most appropriate answer. She certainly did not want to offend her father nor did she want to enrage him even more.

"I... well, feel connection to the Christian faith, but not to the Anglican Church itself. As long as my daughter is baptized in the Christian faith, I don't mind."

Only upon seeing Lord Grantham's face did Sybil realize that she had said the worst thing possible; if she had stated that she felt affinity to the Anglican Church, but not to the Christian faith itself, it would have been much better received by the man in front of her.

Robert Crawley remained silent for a few minutes before muttering in a hushed voice, "So… you feel no affinity to the life that I have given you. I suppose that I should have already become accustomed to it."

Sybil felt anger rising in her veins. She could understand her father not accepting her choices, but she could not stand his unjust opinion.

"No, Papa. I'm deeply grateful to you for the life and the faith that you've given me, and I respect the values that you choose to adhere to. I'm not ashamed of my heritage nor do I wish to disregard it; but I want to make my own choices in life and I don't intend to be bound by what my heritage imposes upon me. For example, my support for the Irish cause does not mean that I'm no longer English or proud to be English…"

Here Sybil decided to pause for a while in order to see Robert's reaction. He, in turn, stared at her in complete silence, his expression undecipherable. As a result, the young woman made up her mind to continue the speech: "And I've married a man of a completely different upbringing to mine, Papa. Each marriage is based on compromise. I have to respect his heritage as much as he respects mine."

At those words, Lord Grantham cut in, "Why is it always you who makes compromises?"

Sybil felt a need to take a deep breath before responding, "It only seems to you as such, Papa, because you don't really know Tom and you have a biased and prejudiced image of him in your mind. Tom has made many sacrifices and compromises for my and Saoirse's sake. Even the fact that he stayed at Downton even though he does not like being here shows his great willingness to compromise… Papa, if you could see those people in Dublin… what their religion means to them, to Tom…"

Robert's nostrils flare, "Do you really think that English people do not care for their religion?"

Sybil was stunned and incredibly disappointed. She thought that her father had at least listened to her and had come to understand her point of view, but instead he dwelt on something that she hadn't even said. The young woman again felt anger bubbling inside her.

"Papa, don't tell me now that you care that much about your faith. Yes, you attend all the church events and dine with bishops, but you're definitely not a very religious person."

"Sybil, you know that I don't like Catholics and their strange rituals…"

At that moment, Sybil realized that further conversation would lead to nowhere. She turned on her heel and walked towards the door.

"Will you come to your granddaughter's christening?"

A direct, simple question. He had rather expected a display of anger, but no. She stood there on the threshold, a quiet, but firm figure, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know."

The soft sound of closing the door informed him that Sybil had left the room without a further word.

The afternoon was truly lovely. It was a warm, early September day, and the nostalgic atmosphere of a diminishing summer was felt acutely in the air. A day perfect for outdoor gatherings under the still shining brightly sun.

The Branson family spent that afternoon accompanied by the young part of the Crawley clan. There was a lot of lemonade, light chatter and laughing. However, it was undeniable that something or rather someone else was in the centre of everyone's attention.

Little Saoirse Branson was the queen of the little family gathering. Everyone felt that it was a privilege to hold her, so she spent the afternoon on being adored by her parents, aunts and uncle. Saoirse was, after all, the first child born into the Crawley family for twenty three years.

Sybil couldn't help but notice that Saoirse brought not only smiles upon her sisters and brother-in-law's faces; she could also spot a note of certain sadness in their eyes. She knew why: Edith felt that she would never be able to hold her own child, whereas Mary and Matthew wondered why they had wasted all those years and did not produce the first Crawley grandson as it should have been.

"Do you have all planned for the christening?" Matthew suddenly inquired.

"We have a lot done, thank you. The date is set and the church is 'booked', if I it's appropriate to say so. I've also contacted my brother, Kieran, whom we want to be Saoirse's godfather, " replied Tom.

"Oh, you've never mentioned him before. Are you close friends?"

"Actually… we're far from close, but we need to have at least one Catholic godparent if we want to hold a Catholic christening."

"Indeed… it's doubtful whether you'll find a Catholic godparent here, " Matthew admitted.

"Speaking of which," Sybil decided to cut in and gave Tom a suggestive look, "we would like to ask Mary to be Saoirse's godmother."

"Yes, we would be greatly honoured," Tom immediately supported his wife.

All eyes turned towards Mary, whose face definitely brightened up at that request. She gave her sister and brother-in-law a pleasant smile and accepted her new role.

Everyone cheered and began talking excitedly about the upcoming event.

Sybil, however, realized something worrying. She noticed that Mary's genuine smile at her and Tom's request was in fact the first genuine smile that her sister wore that afternoon. Yes, Mary had smiled numerous times today, but right now Sybil realized that those had been mostly forced smiles, as expected of anyone holding a little infant.

Sybil decided to look at Mary closer. Unfortunately, her previous observations were confirmed – Mary smiled a lot, but rather because she felt that she needed to smile than out of true happiness.

Unexpectedly, the eldest Crawley sister stood up and announced, "I have a terrible headache and need to lie down for a while" in an icy tone. A worried Matthew decided to join her, and Sybil had a nagging suspicion that she began to understand what it was all about.

Consequently, only four of them remained at the table. While Sybil and Tom exchanged telling looks, Edith was fidgeting nervously in her chair before asking, "Have you read the… novel that I gave you?"

Both Sybil and Tom immediately turned their attention towards the middle Crawley sister, and sent her encouraging smiles.

"I did, " Tom informed her, "and Sybil did too. When I started reading it, I liked it so much that I felt a need to share it with her."

"We both enjoyed your novel greatly," Sybil quickly added, "a satire on the contemporary upper classes? Something definitely for the middle-class people like us."

Edith's face brightened up, "Thank you. It means a lot. Truly."

The Bransons were well aware how much each compliment meant for Edith.

"So, what do you want to do with it now?" Tom asked his sister-in-law.

"Excuse me?"

"You shouldn't just keep it in the drawer. Why don't you try to find a publisher? I can bet that someone will want to buy this book – a novel criticizing the aristocracy written by the daughter of an Earl? It'll be an instant success, if you ask me."

"That's a great idea!" Sybil backed her husband up.

Edith looked at the two of them, dumbfounded. "But how will everyone react? Papa? Granny? They'll never allow me to publish anything, let alone something like that."

"You can publish it under a pseudonym," Tom suggested.

"Tom's right. Besides, Edith, do not let Papa and Granny tell you what to do with your life or that what you do is wrong. Actually, I have an idea: why won't you go to London to visit Aunt Rosamund? No one will question anything, and you may search for a publisher there during your visit?"

Edith couldn't find words enough to tell her sister and brother-in-law just how much she liked that plan.

In the evening, the Bransons indulged in one of their habits that was also against Downton rules – they took Saoirse to the bed with them. As Sybil and Saoirse were lying comfortably in the bed, Tom was trying to write another article to send to the English press.

"Have you received an answer from The English Weekly?" Sybil's voice broke the lazy silence.

"I did."

"So?"

"How could the outcome be any different, darling? The response was negative."

Sybil inwardly sighed. She started to truly worry about Tom's job prospects, but she didn't want to say it aloud because she was afraid that the subject of Liverpool would reappear.

"I will at least talk to Kieran about it, all right?" Tom suddenly asked.

Sybil merely nodded. There was no danger in just learning more about any possible prospects in Liverpool when their future was really hard to predict. As much as she hated to admit it, they might need that option sometime in the future. She was well aware that Tom could not stay at Downton for too long.

"Have you told your family that you'll soon start working at the hospital?"

"I'll tell them after the christening. Better not to vex them before the event."

"Indeed."

Tom began writing faster just for the sake of writing something because he was not able to focus on the article properly at that moment. He felt frustration bubbling inside him; frustration and the sense of uselessness. On the other hand, he did want to achieve something in his journalistic career – for himself and for Sybil. Oh, Sybil. She had always been his inspiration and source of strength and he knew that, no matter what, she would always be.

He finally realized that he would not write anything coherent right now, put the pen down and headed for the bed only to find his wife and daughter already sleeping. He smiled tenderly at the endearing picture, climb to the bed, and took them both into a close embrace.

A/N The title of the newspaper is fictional.

And yes, next time is the wedding chapter ;)