Second to last chapter everyone! (Well techially this is the last chapter BUT I'm going to do an epilogue :)) so watch this space!

Big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed, favourited this story etc...I'm really pleased you all liked it! Enjoy this chapter.

Branson had got out of the car, following Lord Grantham and Matthew, stepping out onto the gravel. It felt good to be back at Downton, be back into familiar surroundings. He felt flattered that everyone had lined up to see his and the other's homecoming, and he was soon hit by Gwen and Daisy hugging him tightly, smiling and laughing at his initial surprise. He soon recovered his composure, and hugged back; he was pleased to see them of course, but he wanted to see one person in particular. The Lady in question was currently in deep conversation with Lord Grantham, and Branson found he couldn't pull his gaze away from Lady Sybil – she looked as beautiful as she had done when he left; older but still as beautiful as ever. He wanted to march over to her and grab her and pull her into his arms, but he couldn't do so, not with Lord Grantham watching over. He found the temptation to do so horrid, and he soon had to break his gaze away. He followed the others inside, before making his way to the garage, sitting in one of his cars to think. Oh how he loved her, but although the world was changing, it wasn't changing enough for both of them to be together.

He did not know how long he sat there, before he heard footsteps nearing the garage. He looked up, only to be in shock. Lady Sybil stood there, a small smile on her face, the sun making her look radiant. He recovered over his shock, and stood up abruptly, leaping out of the car, before bowing slightly before her.

"M'lady," he managed to blurt out, only for Lady Sybil to wave away his remark.

"No need for formalities Branson! Call me Sybil, I'm always telling you to!" She said, laughing and smiling as she cautiously took a few steps closer to Branson. He smiled warmly back at her – oh how she had missed that smile! And his eyes. He had missed everything about him.

"Okay Sybil, you may call me Tom!" He chuckled heartily, before finding his shoes suddenly interesting. He knew he had to tell her – he regretted every day he was fighting he hadn't told her how he felt. He was about to speak before Sybil interrupted.

"Tom I…I need to tell you something. And I don't care what anyone says, or thinks, because this is how I feel and I don't care what society thinks of it," She sighed, taking a breath before looking into Branson's eyes. They shared a silent moment together, before he marched forward and grabbed her hands.

"Sybil, I love you." Sybil gasped, her eyes lighting up and she tightened her grip on his hands. Tom smiled broadly at her, looking deep into her eyes.

"If you would have let me finish!" She said jokingly, squeezing his hand slightly to reassure him, she meant it in good humour, "I love you too Tom. I don't care what people say, I don't care about classes, I jus- "

She didn't get to finish what she wanted to say; she was cut off by Branson pressing his lips on hers. The passion they both had been holding inside was released as the kiss deepened, Sybil's arms wounding around Tom's neck and Tom's around her waist. They only broke apart when the need for oxygen became too much, and they stood there, hearts beating in synch, both smiling broadly. It had finally happened, their feelings out in the open for the taking, and Branson did not want to let Sybil go – he had waited four years for this moment and he didn't want to leave her again. But the reality of the situation hit him, and he loosened his grip slightly, leaving a confused Sybil to look up at him questioningly.

"How are we going to do this Sybil? I love you, but what will your father say? I doubt he'll want you to marry the Irish chauffeur," he chuckled slightly, Sybil joining in. She reached up for his cheek, stroking it – she knew that her father would object against this but they would cross the bridge when it came to it.

"Don't worry about that for now Tom," She said, smiling gently at him, her gaze meeting his, "We'll speak to him in a couple of days, together. I'm sure he'll just want me to be happy!"

Branson made to reply, but Sybil had cut him off by kissing him. She was right – they would talk to Lord Grantham in a couple of days. For now, he was home and he just wanted to spend this moment with Sybil forever.

After they had entered the house behind the rest of the family, everyone had gathered back out on the lawn – Cora had arranged for tables and chairs to be set up in the November sun; everyone was happily chatting away as the footman went around, offering drinks. Lord Grantham was happily sat talking to his wife, making up for lost time, as was Cousin Isabel with Matthew. Mary had let him go eventually – she knew he had to go and see his mother after so long, and she was talking to Granny. She had dropped hints about her and Matthew, and all she did was smile broadly back. But something was holding her back – the matter of her and Mr Pamuk was still not known to Matthew, and she did not want to lie to him and ruin everything again. She had to tell him – she could only pray that Matthew would understand.

She was grateful when she saw Matthew make his way over to her, with a grin on his face, her heart skipping a beat. He tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around grinning at him.

"Care for a walk, cousin Mary?"

She happily nodded, before slipping her arm through his arm as he led her away from the commotion of the crowd. They walked happily in comfortable silence, until they reached the familiar bench where they had shared many conversations. They sat down, a silence filling the air before Mary turned to Matthew, fiddling with her necklace.

"Matthew, before anything happens between us, I need to tell you something," she paused, taking in Matthew's look of confusion, "I feel that you must know this."

Matthew looked confused, before smiling and taking her hand.

"I'm all ears," he said softly. Mary nodded before taking a deep breath and looking slowly into Matthew's eyes. She didn't want to bring this up, but she did not want to be dishonest to Matthew. She couldn't be.

"It's about something which happened a long time ago, but I feel you must know," she said softly before continuing, "You remember Mr Pamuk yes?"

Matthew nodded, becoming more and more puzzled by the minute.

"Yes I remember him, and I remember you were quite taken with him!" He chuckled softly, expecting Mary to join him but she was starting to look upset. Matthew stopped chuckling, and cautiously put a hand on her arm, worried by her state, yet confused.

"Mary?"

Mary wiped some unwanted tears away before continuing, her voice shaking with emotion.

"The n-night he died..." She sighed heavily, "He tried to...he tried to…kiss me. He came in my room, I do not know how he found it but I told him to go but he wouldn't listen…" she glanced at Matthew, who seemed to be digesting the information Mary was telling him. She waited for him to say something, anything before she continued.

"I told him to go, but he then pushed me onto my bed and then I could not stop myself. I did not want him there, but yet I found myself attracted to him but I kept telling him to stop." She looked down at her hands, tears flowing freely down her pale cheeks as Matthew looked on. He was angry – how dare he try and do this to his Mary? He placed a hand on her arm again, turning Mary to him.

"He was trying to take advantage of you, the scoundrel!" He was livid, not with Mary but with him, "I do not wish to be disrespectful, but he should not have put you in that position, regardless of you were attracted to him or not!" Mary was amazed – he was not angry with her, and she felt relieved but that was only part of the story. She sighed.

"That is not the full story I am afraid…" Matthew quizzed her with a puzzling look, before she continued.

"Later on, he gave a small cry and went still…I didn't know what was happened, I called his name, shook him but he didn't reply…then I realised he was not breathing."

Matthew was stunned; he had died in Mary's bed? How was this possible he thought?

"But he was found in his own bed, how is that possible?" He questioned, as Mary fiddled with her necklace, her eyes filling up with tears. She did not want to lose Matthew again; she nearly had lost him before, not again.

"Mama and Anna helped me carry him to his room," She let out a small sob as Matthew rose to his feet, clapping a hand across his mouth. Mary looked at him through her tears, defeated – had she now ruined everything once more? How stupid she was! She started crying uncontrollably, waiting for Matthew to say something, to do something, afraid as ever. Matthew saw how vulnerable she was and it broke his heart, and he quickly moved to sit back next to him, pulling her close and kissing her forehead tenderly.

"There there, my dear," He said softly, as the sobs slowly died away. She hiccupped a couple of times, before clearing her throat to speak.

"I'm sorry Matthew…I'm so so sorry. I understand if you loath me-" Matthew interrupted her with a small finger to her lips, smiling softly, his blue eyes reassuring her.

"I don't loath you Mary. I couldn't after everything we have been through, yes I am shocked but-" he paused, taking her trembling hands in his and rubbing them smoothly, trying to reassure her, "I admire how honest you wanted to be with me, and even though it was a while ago now, I am glad I now know. But it does not change my feelings for you." He smiled softly, as Mary looked into his eyes, a small smile appearing on her face, her tears drying. She couldn't believe he understood, but that's what she loved about him – he was always so understanding, no matter what. It made her love him even more than before. Matthew placed a hand on her cheek, before sighing.

"I could never lose you again Mary, never. But I need to know something from you. One word would silence me on the subject forever, and another would make me the happiest man ever to live." He smiled, before stroking her cheek lovingly.

"Do you still mean everything you said four years ago?"

Mary smiled, laughing despite her recent tears, before replying.

"Yes Matthew, I meant everything and I still do! If anything, your willingness to forgive me for what happened has made my feelings for you even stronger than before," Mary said, smiling gracefully at Matthew, who's smile was the brightest smile she had ever seen. He took both of her hands, kissing them softly, before asking the all-important question.

"And will you spend the rest of my live with me, as my wife?"

Mary could have thrown herself into his arms, but she simply smiled, her heart soaring as she replied with the one simple word Matthew had longed to hear for so long.

"Yes."

Matthew felt he was on cloud nine, and he scooped Mary up into his arms, laughing and smiling as she replicated his feelings, before he kissed her with all the passion he could muster. When the need for oxygen became too much, they pulled apart, their fingers interlinked with one another's – his deep blue eyes gazing into her soft brown ones.

"The past doesn't matter now Mary. What matters now is the future, and I plan never to leave you ever again." He smiled broadly at her, before kissing her forehead and pulling her close once more. Both of them sat, counting themselves lucky that they could be together once more after four long years. And that evening was the happiest they had ever known, as their engagement became public knowledge and they could finally relax. Their battle was over, and every time Mary looked at Matthew, her cold exterior melted away as she knew Matthew had changed her for the better. No more petty arguments or jealously with her sisters – now all that mattered to Mary was that she wasn't going to make the same mistake again. She had told him her darkest secret, and he was willing to see past it, willing to love her to her dying days. She had Matthew, and he had her, and she wasn't going to let him go.

Every time Matthew looked at his fiancé, he would thank God a million times over that he was given the chance to be with her once more. He could not be here right now, he could have died in a muddy battlefield in Belgium but instead, he had lived and fought for the chance to come home. Others hadn't been so lucky, William just one example of thousands that never made it home back to their wives and children. Yes, she had kept a dark secret from him, but he did not care – she was not to blame and he only wished he could have been there more to help her. But that was the past now – all that mattered to him was their future together. His heart had skipped a beat when Mary accepted him, and their long battle was finally over. He smiled as he felt a delicate hand slip into his, and gazed down at her with loving and care. They both stood and smiled at one another, and Matthew knew that it would be the two of them now, forever; never to be parted again.