Author's Note: Hi everybody! I am SO sorry it's been such a long wait for this chapter! I had a busy week with the play I'm in doing tech week and opening night, I was working a little last week as well, and things just kept getting in the way. I hope this chapter was worth the wait, though, and thank you so much for sticking with me and supporting this story! My readers are the best!

But according to him
I'm beautiful,incredible,
He can't get me out of his head.
According to him
I'm funny, irresistible,
Everything he ever wanted.
Everything is opposite,
I don't feel like stopping it,
So baby tell me what I've got to lose.
He's into me for everything I'm not,
According to you

-"According to You" by Orianthi

The drive back to Downton had been mostly quiet, although nowhere near as awkward as their frosty drive to Ripon had been. About halfway through the ride Tom reached over and laid a hesitant hand on Sybil's knee, his eyes darting over to meet hers in the rearview mirror as if silently asking for permission. She smiled at him in response, and he visibly relaxed. His hand stayed there for the rest of the drive, the skin of Sybil's knee tingling with warmth and making her heart race. There was something about Tom Branson that made her feel like she was sixteen years old again and experiencing a first crush. Every so often she would look over at him, one hand gripping the wheel while the other still rested gently on her leg, looking perfectly content as they made their way back home. When they got to the garage at Downton they shared a laugh as they passed by the Renault, Tom reaching out to pat one of the doors as if silently thanking the car for its discretion. Sybil giggled and rolled her eyes, taking his hand and pulling him along back towards the house.

"The wedding is tomorrow, can you believe it?" she asked suddenly, squinting a bit against the late morning sun. "I feel like this weekend has flown by…"

"Me too," Tom agreed, subconsciously tightening his grip on her hand as if it would be wrenched from his grasp at any moment. "But we've still got the wedding to get through tomorrow, that'll be fun. At any rate, Sybil…if you really want to know, I'm glad I agreed to do this. I really am."

The look on his face told her that he was glad for reasons other than the money she had promised him, and she smiled to. "So am I. For a while there I was so certain you were just going to turn me down…"

Tom chuckled. "You know what, love? So was I."

Sybil's gait slowed a bit, her eyes wide with curiosity now. "So what made you change your mind?" she asked him. "What made you say yes?"

"I don't really know," Tom admitted, their clasped hands swinging a bit as they made their way up to the house. "There was just…something in the way you looked at me in the pub that day. Something in your eyes that made me want to say yes to you. Something that made me want to…to take a chance. To bet on you."

Sybil barked out a laugh. "Let me guess what that was. Desperation?"

But Tom shook his head, reaching over to tuck a lock of Sybil's dark curls behind her ear. "I don't think so, love. I'm pretty sure it was hope."

They reached the back door of the house and Tom opened it to let her inside, holding the door like a proper gentleman would have. Sybil tried not to think of how Larry had never found the need to do such things for her, as if being considerate came naturally to Tom in a way that Larry would never be able to understand. He was Larry's opposite in so many ways, but Sybil tried not to dwell on it, not wanting to make it seem like she was either still too hung up on Larry nor becoming too attached to Tom. Tomorrow was the wedding, and after that, he would most likely leave. They would return to London and go their separate ways, and who knew when they would cross paths again? No, she couldn't get attached, not now. It would be better and easier for both of them to make a clean break…

But, she realized as she watched Tom close the door carefully behind them, what if I don't want a clean break? What if I want to…keep this going? He said I would move on when I was ready…maybe I'm ready now.

"There you are!" came Cora's voice the minute they were safely inside. "Mary and Matthew got back a few minutes before you did. From what they told me, the lesson went pretty well." She crossed to Sybil and kissed her on the cheek before turning to Tom. "Mary tells me you're quite the dancer."

Tom gave a bashful smile. "I do what I can, Mrs. Crawley."

Cora waved her hand at his formality. "Tom, for the last time, you can call me Cora. You're dating Sybil, we're practically family already."

"He just forgot, Mama," Sybil said, coming to his rescue. "Right, Tom?"

"Exactly,"

Cora's blue eyes, so much like Sybil's, sparkled with mirth. "Well, I guess I can forgive you just this one time—if you promise me one dance at the wedding tomorrow. The way Mary was raving about you, it seems like we have a real Fred Astaire on our hands. I don't want to miss out on that."

Tom chuckled. "I wouldn't go that far, but you've got yourself a deal, Cora."

"Fantastic! Looking forward to it. I can't believe there's just one more day to go…" Cora smiled at the two of them, and Sybil noticed that her eyes were growing slightly misty. Sybil's brow furrowed in concern. "Mama?" she asked gently. "Is something the matter?"

But Cora just shook her head, blinking back tears. "No, of course not," she said quietly. "I just…I can't believe your sister's getting married. You all grew up too fast…" Sybil opened her mouth to speak, to try to offer some sort of comfort, but Cora cut her off. "I'm fine, really. You two should go relax a bit before the big picnic. I'll see you later, okay?" She kissed both of them on the cheek again before going off, saying something about wanting to see where Robert had gotten to. Sybil was left staring after her, wondering if she was supposed to follow or just leave her mother alone for the time being.

"They all get like that," Tom said gently, taking Sybil's hand again. "You should have seen my mother when my sister got married. She'll be all right, though, trust me. She just needs time…"

Sybil gave a nod, still watching Cora as she disappeared around the corner. "You're probably right. Come on, let's get upstairs before Mary gives us another job to do for the wedding…"

They retreated upstairs and into Sybil's room, where she immediately flopped on her back onto the bed. Tom smiled at her, coming to lay beside her atop the covers, their fingertips barely brushing when he set his arms at his sides and settled himself down onto his back. "You know what pisses me off?" Sybil asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on a hairline crack in the ceiling.

Tom chuckled. "A great many things, I'm sure…"

"No, really, I'm serious! You know what I hate? I feel like this whole weekend has been about me. I've done nothing but talk to you this whole time—about myself, about this mess with Larry, about my family—it's like I've been spilling my guts all weekend and I don't know anything about you. I know that you write for a newspaper, you're trying to publish a book about the Easter Rising, and your brother works as a mechanic in Liverpool. Oh, and you hated uni at first and you won some contest for Halloween one year. That's it. I don't know a single thing about you other than that…"

She glanced over and saw Tom smile faintly, his eyes half-closed. There was a pause for a moment, as if he were thinking something over before he spoke. "I have a congenital heart murmur," he said finally. Sybil sat up, looking at him in alarm. "Don't worry, it's benign. My mam used to be a nurse, though, so she makes me take medication for it and get regular checkups just in case. So there, that's one thing you know about me. I double majored in journalism and creative writing at uni, but I had to fight my mam every step of the way in order for her to finally give her approval about the writing thing. She's my biggest fan now, but ten years ago…" He chuckled to himself, remembering the explosive fights with his mother that would cause the rest of his siblings to scatter until the coast was clear. "Let's see, what else…I'm the second oldest of seven, did you know that? One older brother, two younger, and three younger sisters."

"Wow," Sybil said, genuinely impressed. "That's a lot. Sometimes I wonder how my parents managed with just three."

Tom grinned. "Good Catholic family, that's what we are. And to be honest, my dad worked most of the time and wasn't really around much, so us kids…well, we were sort of raised by the village anyway, the lot of us. My sister Kathleen, who comes right after me in the family, she's married with two little girls. I'm godfather to one of them, her name is Maeve…God, I adore that kid."

Sybil smiled, noticing how Tom's face had become softer when he had begun to talk about his family. She had always suspected that family was important to him, but seeing it for real was another matter entirely. It was as if his entire being had lit up with pride, almost the same way it had when she'd asked him about his book. "What else?" she asked softly.

Tom smiled and bit his lip, thinking hard. "Hmmm…don't laugh, but some of my favorite movies are Braveheart, any of the James Bond films…and Love Actually. Real men admit their love for romantic comedies, Sybil. Never forget that." He shot her a look that all but oozed confidence, and Sybil had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. "I'm allergic to tomatoes…oh, when I was a kid, I used to tell my little sisters stories to help them fall asleep at night. They liked my bedtime stories better than anything mam or dad ever read to them. That's the first thing that made me realize that I could maybe be a writer, that and a teacher of mine who encouraged me. Good old Mrs. Callahan, still remembers to send me a Christmas card every year…not enough for you, Crawley? Want more? Let's see…it probably makes me a failure as an Irishman, but I can't stand James Joyce, his books put me to sleep every single time, and…"

He had turned sometime during his speech so that they were lying facing each other, their faces only a few inches apart. Sybil's heartbeat sped up, and she wondered if his was too, murmur and all. "What?" she whispered, her voice breathy.

"And, Sybil Crawley…I think I'd miss you even if we never met."

Now Sybil was finding it even harder to breathe. Her eyes were locked onto Tom's, but his were fixated on her lips as if it were the first time he was seeing her all over again. When she instinctively leaned in closer to him, he followed her, until their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart, almost brushing each time they took a breath. Sybil's heart was about to burst out of her chest. She leaned forward again, her lips just touching his…

And was startled away by an excited knock at the door. "Come on, you lovebirds, get a move on!" came Matthew's voice through the wood. "They're ready to get the picnic started up! Come on, no time to waste—I'm getting married in the morning!"

Sybil wasn't sure how or when, but somehow, her future brother-in-law was going to pay for this.

By the time they got outside, the picnic was in full swing. Sybil had changed from her dancing dress to a more casual white sundress, and Tom had replaced his button-down shirt for a polo. Matthew, at Martha's suggestion, had decided to turn the picnic into a full-on American-style barbecue and was manning the grill while Shrimpy gave unhelpful suggestions next to him. The air was thick with the smell of smoke from the grill, drinks were flowing in full force, and Martha had set up a round of poker at one of the tables that was quickly growing interesting. Sybil sat between Tom and her father, with Edith, Anthony, and Martha across from them. Nearby, Cora, Mary, and Violet were looking through an old photo album. Rose was nowhere to be found.

"Well, my hand is complete crap," Edith said, slamming her cards down onto the table with a laugh. "I surrender."

Robert seemed more confident in his abilities, for he accepted Martha's most recent bet. Sybil bit her lip to hide the smile as she glanced down to her own hand. Anthony folded as well, but Tom, apparently sure of himself, remained in the game. Sybil opened her mouth, preparing to swoop down upon her victory, when on the table beside Tom his cell phone began to ring. Tom blushed and apologized, preparing to reach for the phone, but Robert pounced before he got the chance, picking it up with the same teasing manner he would if it were Matthew's phone instead. "Allow me to get that for you, Tom," he said with a wink. Sybil's face reddened.

"Papa, give that back to him!" Sybil protested, but Robert had already answered the call, keeping his cards in his lap where no one could see them. "Hello?" he asked cordially, as if it were his mobile he was answering instead of his daughter's fake boyfriend. "Who is this? I'm sorry, Tom cannot come to the phone right now, he's too busy trying to win all of my money."

That produced a chorus of laughs around the table, and even Sybil found that she had to smile. Robert listened for another moment before he ended the call, placing the phone back on the table. "Who's Edna?" he asked delicately, casting Tom a curious look.

Suddenly Sybil's breath caught painfully in her throat. Who was Edna? Oh, God, could Tom have a girlfriend that he hadn't told her about? Had Sybil, in her desperation, hired someone for this crazy charade who was actually involved with someone already? And oh God, I slept with him…and I enjoyed it. Am I the other woman? You bastard, how could you not have mentioned something like that?! Jesus, Tom, all that time telling me about yourself today and you neglected to mention that little detail? Sure, I'll tell you everything about my likes and my allergies and my sibling's kids, but I'll keep mum about my sweet little girlfriend back in London… As Sybil stared at her hand of cards, trying to hide her anger and mortification, she could just picture this Edna in her mind…perky and blonde, with a whining little voice as she spoke to Robert on the phone…God, Tom, I'm going to kill you! Why didn't you say anything? Why did you let me sit here and make a fool of myself like this?!

Sybil wasn't sure who she hated more at that moment: Tom, herself, or Edna.

But Tom only smiled, making Sybil relax just a bit. "Edna Braithwaite. She's a junior editor at my paper. Well, sort of. She works for my editor, kind of like an assistant, and she thinks that gives her the right to bombard me all the time about my deadlines. She's an okay kid, but she can be a bit….persistent. Don't worry, though, my boss already has my article for this week. He must have just forgotten to tell her, so she decided it was her civic duty to bother me about it on my vacation."

"I know how that goes," Robert said with a sympathetic chuckle. "She just said to call her back when you get the chance. No harm done. Now, I believe we were in the middle of a game?"

Sybil grinned broadly, setting her cards down on the table for them all to see. "Looks like I win this round…" The others began to protest at her full house as she eagerly scooped up her earnings, and Martha began to gather up the cards for a new game. She caught Tom's eye and he threw her a wink, silently congratulating her on her victory.

"Has anyone seen my daughter?" came Susan's clipped voice, interrupting the chatter of the game. "She went inside to get another drink or something like that and now she's disappeared. She's missing out on all the fun, and I will not have her spending the rest of this weekend sulking in her room. She's enough of an embarrassment to me right now as it is-"

"Want me to go and find her, Susan?" Sybil offered, beginning to stand up before Susan could launch into another verbally abusive tirade about her daughter while she wasn't there to defend herself. Rose could be a handful, but Sybil had never really understood why Susan was so hard on her all the time. She hated to leave the game for the moment, but if that was what it took to shut Susan up for the time being, Sybil figured it was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make.

To her surprise, though, Tom stood up as well. "No, you stay with your family," he told Sybil, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on her lips "I can go hunt down Rose for you. I'll be back in a few minutes if I can't find her."

"You sure?" Sybil asked him.

He nodded and kissed her again, and Sybil had the feeling that it was more because he wanted to than to keep up the charade as it usually was. Or maybe she just hoped that he wanted to kiss her again. "Positive. I'll be right back, okay? Keep on winning for me."

"I'll try."

She watched him walk away back towards the house, feeling the eyes of her father on her as she did so. Robert cleared his throat, making Sybil look over at her. "I like him," he began, sounding a little sheepish, as if he were embarrassed for being too quick to judge Tom earlier. "I didn't think I was going to, but I do. You and Tom…you work well together."

"You really think so?" Sybil asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"I really do, my dear. And I'm happy for you."

Sybil blinked back tears much like her mother had done earlier, forgetting for the moment that she and Tom didn't even have a relationship for her father to be happy about. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, smiling as she pulled away. "Thank you, Papa."

Tom didn't know how Sybil had managed to grow up here and turn out as relatively normal as she had, that was certain. Downton Abbey was beautiful, yes, but the longer he stayed the more he began to notice its flaws starting to emerge. Most pressing at this moment was the fact that the estate was just so damn big.

He had been in all the rooms on the first and second floors of the massive estate, going up and down stairs and peeking into sitting rooms, TV areas, guest quarters, and god knows what else. Why would one family of five people need so many rooms in the first place? Downton seemed like it would be the perfect setting for a good old-fashioned game of hide-and-seek, but when you were actually trying to find someone, it seemed like torture. Rose was nowhere to be found, just like her mother had said. Tom was beginning to think she'd taken one of the cars and drove into the village for a bit, seeking some solitude away from all the relatives and servants. At this point, Tom wouldn't have blamed her. He was about to give up and join the others out on the lawn when he heard voices coming from the direction of the garden, and turned to follow the source of the sound.

He could hear Rose saying something that he couldn't quite make out, followed by a deeper, obviously male voice. As he came closer, the conversation became more audible, and he rounded the corner just in time to hear Rose's rather tearful voice say, "What do you want from me?"

He could see Rose standing with Larry at the end of the path, looking up into his eyes. He held her gently by her wrists, forcing her to look up at him, and Tom felt his jaw clench. It was one thing for Larry to have hurt Sybil the way he did, but if he thought he was going to get away with laying a hand on her cousin like this…

"I want you to tell me—" Larry began before Tom cleared his throat. Immdiately he dropped Rose's hands as if her touch burned him, running his fingers through his hair as if nothing at all was the matter. "Hey, Tom," he said casually.

"Hey, yourself," Tom replied, his gaze hard and his tone suspicious. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to ask Rose here if she thought I should wear a blue or a white shirt for the rehearsal dinner tonight. No matter, though. I can just ask Matthew. The food's probably ready, anyway, and I'm starving…see you around." With that, he fled, leaving Tom glaring after him in his wake.

Slowly, Tom turned back to Rose, his eyes roving over her to make sure that Larry hadn't truly done anything to hurt her. "Are you all right?" he asked her gently. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Rose snapped, brushing past him. "Just leave me alone, all right?"

"Look, Rose, you can tell me. Whatever it was…I've been told I'm a good listener. And I barely know you, so I won't have enough information to judge you for it, whatever it is." He tried to smile, but Rose just sniffled and wiped another tear away.

"Oh, you'll judge me, all right."

"No I won't. Come on."

"I can't!" she cried out, startling him with the intensity of her voice. "I can't, because you're one of the only people here who don't already know…who don't hate me. If I tell you, you'll be like the rest of them. You'll hate me for what I did."

Tom reached out a hand to her, setting it on her shoulder. She flinched, but made no move to pull away as he led her over to a bench and sat her down. "I won't hate you, Rose," he said, his voice soft as if speaking to a child. "I hardly even know you, so I can't hate you. You can tell me…come on. It might do you some good."

She eyed him warily. "You have to promise you won't say anything to anyone. Not even Sybil…"

He frowned a bit at that, but nodded. If everyone already knew, as she claimed, what difference did it make whether he kept mum about it or not? Still, he found himself nodding anyway. "I promise, Rose. Now, just tell me…"

"Sybil, can I have a minute?"

Larry's voice startled Sybil, who had gone over to look at the photo albums and reminisce with the others while Matthew, Shrimpy, and a few of the servants worked to dish out the food for lunch. She stared at him, wondering what in the world he wanted to talk to her about before she remembered his text message to her the day before. "I…" she stammered, not knowing what to say.

"Let's see," Martha said, speaking for her. "You stole two years of my granddaughter's life with your bullshit and your charm-"

"And your lies," Cora chimed in helpfully.

"Really, it was more than two years, when you count the time since now and the breakup," Violet added, fixing Larry with a venomous look.

"More than that, even, considering how long we've known him," Mary added. "So you took all that from Sybil, and now you want just one more minute? Sure. Why not?"

Larry's mouth had fallen open somewhere during this lecture, caught off-guard by being scolded by three generations of women all at once. Without a word he turned and fled, apparently expecting Sybil to follow him. She stared at her family, somewhat at a loss for words and torn between wanting to thank them and demand what they were thinking. Finally, she sighed, picking up her drink from where she left it on the arm of Violet's chair. "I appreciate the help, I really do. But next time, could you maybe let me fight my own battles? Thanks." With that, she turned to follow Larry.

He hadn't gone too far, just enough so that they wouldn't be overheard. The moment Sybil approached him he began to speak, nearly stumbling over himself in his haste. "Sybil. Listen. I feel like I haven't been being entirely honest with you, and there's something that's been eating away at me. I think I owe you an explanation for what happened six months ago and…Sybil, are you even listening?"

She wasn't.

Over Larry's shoulder, Sybil had spotted Tom coming out of the gardens. The look on his face was something she had never seen before, anger and disbelief and most importantly, something that looked like sadness in his eyes. He looked like someone whose dog had just died or worse, and in that moment Sybil knew she had to go to him to find out what was wrong. "I'm sorry, I'll be back in just a second…" she said, not even looking at Larry as she brushed past him and ran over to where Tom stood, watching the party as if unsure whether he was welcome there anymore. She could feel Larry's eyes boring a hole through her head, but she didn't turn back. When she reached Tom she immediately laid a hand on his arm, her eyes etched with concern. "Hey," she said softly. "Is everything okay? You look like…is something wrong?"

Tom looked at her a long moment, and Sybil noticed that something new had come into his eyes…something that looked a lot like pity. Finally, he shook his head.

"I'm fine, love," he said, reaching out to lay a hand on her cheek. Impulsively, Sybil turned her head to the side just enough to kiss his palm, wondering if that might serve to calm him down. Whatever had upset him, he would tell her in his own time, or so she hoped. "I'm fine…" he repeated, drawing her close and wrapping his arms around her, holding her so tightly Sybil could feel his heart beat beneath his shirt. She relaxed into his embrace as he kissed the top of her head. "Let's go rejoin the party before Susan sends out another search party…"

"If you're sure…" Sybil said, keeping one arm around him as they began to walk back. "Did you ever find Rose?"

For just a second, she thought she saw his expression harden. "Nope," he said simply. "She'll probably turn up sooner or later."