As they stood there in front of Edith's grave, Tom wasn't sure where to begin talking about Edith. He hadn't always liked Edith, especially in the beginning, and he thought she was the cause of much of her misery but he had to admit he felt a certain pity for her. He recalled that when he drove around her parents or her Granny he rarely heard them discuss Edith and even when they did it wasn't always in the best light. And of course there was the humiliation of that Strallan guy leaving her at the altar. Then glancing at the small headstone beside hers, and what of the story of Marigold he thought. How much of any of that should he say?

He had been just as guilty as the rest of them in overlooking her. Recalling the first time he had met Cora, Edith, and Sybil he remembered that he had noticed Cora mostly because of her unexpected American accent and of course he noticed Sybil since he was immediately drawn to her with her women's rights remarks. But Edith … Edith had just been there.

Actually he had only taken note of her when she had whined about Sybil getting something new and not her. He wasn't yet accustomed to the ways of this family but surely anyone who lived in a house like Downton Abbey had enough money to fund their every desire so he was surprised that the daughters waited their turn for a new dress.

Of the three sisters Edith was by far the quietest and in Tom's opinion the meekest. She lacked the self-assurance of her older sister or the vibrancy of Sybil. From the time he was the chauffeur, he had witnessed enough snickering and pettiness between Edith and Mary to know the animosities between the two so Sybil's occasional outbursts to him regarding her sisters was not a surprise.

The three youngsters stood waiting for Tom to talk. Ciara knew her grandfather well enough that she could tell he was contemplating what to say. She knew by the deep furrow of his brow that the story of Edith wasn't the happy memories that they had mostly talked about during their visit here.

"I think Edith was one of those people that was never sure of herself" Tom began. He could only imagine how it had been for Edith growing up overshadowed by both her sisters, one far more charming and one far more generous and warmhearted. "I think she would have liked to have been more like Sybil with her independence but she sometimes lacked confidence. She was only a year younger than Mary and they seemed to have a way of riling each other, of bringing out the worst in the other."

"And in many ways they were so alike." Yet he decided he wouldn't elaborate on those traits the two shared, for they didn't flatter either sister and with Edith long dead and Mary somewhat mellowed there was no point to do so especially when talking to Mary's grandson.

"I have to admit that during my time here as the chauffeur I didn't have much interaction with her. It was rare that she was alone in the motor car, mostly she traveled with her mother or her sisters, and she certainly adhered to the social strictures of that time" he glanced at his granddaughters "and that meant no conversation with the mere chauffeur."

"I want to learn to drive." The words, delivered forcefully and sounding like an order, as well as the girl who spoke them, startled Tom. He was leaning up against one of the motor cars reading the newspaper, his discarded uniform jacket neatly folded and laying across the car's front seat, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his loosened tie draping casually around his neck, leaving him inappropriately dressed to be in the company of one of the family.

If it had been Sybil he would have just lowered the newspaper and greeted her warmly not really caring that he wasn't in what Carson would call proper dress. But it wasn't Sybil who stood at the entrance to the garage it was her sister.

It seemed as if the forcefulness of her statement had drained her for Lady Edith stood hesitantly at the open garage doors as if she was unsure whether or not to actually step into the garage and Tom wondered if she had ever been here before. He had been at Downton for over three years now and in that time his conversations, if one could call them such, with her had been relegated to such mundane matters as where to park the car or how long she would be or her need for him to accompany her so he could carry her packages. She rarely answered his "Good Morning or Good Afternoon" with more than a nod and a faint smile as he helped her into the motor car.

The look on his face showed her statement had taken him by surprise. Still holding the newspaper in his hands and not bothering to adjust either his shirt or his tie he started to respond to her when he realized her now apparent hesitancy might have more to do with his appearance as her eyes had widen at the sight of him before she quickly diverted them to the garage floor.

He threw the newspaper on the seat after grabbing his jacket which he quickly donned but the tie remained untied.

"You want to learn to drive?"

"Yes Branson I want you to teach me to drive."

"Has your father agreed to this?" He could tell how her cheeks suddenly reddened that she hadn't discussed the matter with her father.

"I want to do my part for the war effort" she responded.

He frowned not understanding how her driving would help the war effort. He knew some women were driving ambulances but he couldn't imagine Lady Edith on the battlefield.

"When you get called up we'll need someone who can drive."

"I don't expect to be called up milady. I'm not English I'm Irish."

Now it was Edith's turn to slightly frown. "I don't see how that matters you're still under the King's rule."

Tom could feel his face burning. Of course the Irish were ruled by the King but that didn't make it right and he certainly had no intention of fighting for this King's war especially after the recent events in Dublin.

Edith, unaware of the depth of Tom's anger, continued blithely "so when can we start?"

"I'll have to discuss it with his lordship first."

Without another word to him, Edith turned and stomped off nearly colliding with Sybil who had entered the courtyard.

Seeing the look on Edith's face, Sybil reached out to touch her sister's arm. "Edith what's the matter?"

But Edith was in no mood to talk. She angrily pulled her arm away from Sybil's grasp and continued on. Sybil looked towards the garage and saw Branson standing there. She knew him well enough by now to be able to discern the look on his face.

"Whatever is the matter Branson? What made Edith go stomping off?" she quietly asked as she approached him.

His eyes still firmly fixed in the direction Edith had taken although she was no longer in sight, Tom replied, his voice unusually harsh "Your sister wants driving lessons."

Sybil chuckled "And you fear for your life?"

But there was no laughter in Tom's eyes as he looked at Sybil. "She wants to take over my job." Then noting the look of puzzlement on Sybil's face he softened his voice. "She thinks I'll soon be in the ranks of your King's army."

"Oh" was all Sybil could muster. It had been some time since they had discussed this but Sybil knew Tom's feelings on that matter. She also knew she couldn't bear it if he did leave.

"Well I wouldn't concern myself with Edith's remarks, no one else does."

Now it was Tom's turn to look puzzled. He hadn't known Sybil to make such a catty remark and that it was about one of her sisters was certainly surprising. He slightly shook his head. "Now that was something I would expect to hear from Lady Mary not you."

Sybil bowed her head but not before Tom could see her blush.

"Do you really think she'd be dangerous driving?" he asked hoping to sound lighthearted and change the mood.

A look of amusement crossed Sybil's face. "Well she never got the hang of riding a bicycle … at least not in a straight line … and her turns were …"

Tom smiled. "So maybe I should pray that your father doesn't give his approval?"

"It was the war that brought out something in her. Up until then she was like much of her kind, doing nothing really with her days, waiting around for a gentleman to come calling and whisking her away to a grand estate where she'd be the lady of the manor."

"But Grand Ma wasn't like that was she" Ciara injected.

Tom chuckled. "No your Grand Ma wasn't like many of her kind. I know that her parents thought I was the one that influenced her politics but that wasn't really true. She was already interested in politics and women's rights when we met. I was just someone to talk with about those things that interested her."

"And just as the war gave your Grand Ma a purpose … nursing … the war gave Edith a sense of purpose too."

"Did she become a nurse also?" Artie asked.

Tom shook his head. "No but she did help out when Downton was turned into a convalescent home. She read to the wounded or wrote letters for them or just sat and talked to them or listened to them talk."

"But even before then she helped out at a local farm driving a tractor for a farmer whose help had been sent to the battlefront.

"She drove a tractor!" Aine seemed quite impressed. "How ever did she learn that?"

"Actually I taught her how to drive."

Tom had just finished removing his uniform trousers and zipping up his coveralls when Sybil strode into the garage surprising Tom with her late morning visit. With the mood he was now in he wasn't sure he was up for a visitor even her. But then he looked at her, standing there in the late morning light, her skin glowing and her eyes shining and his heart fluttered.

He couldn't help but think how comfortable she had become with visiting the garage. When she had first started coming here just to talk to him, her entrances were quiet and her steps hesitant as if she was battling with herself as to whether or not she should enter.

"Whatever happened to the motor car?" Sybil asked looking back at the vehicle sitting in front of the garage. She was so used to seeing the motor cars in pristine condition it was rather surprising to see one with dirt all over it including splatters on the windshield.

"Your sister" he replied gruffly.

"Edith!" Sybil wasn't sure she had heard him right. "What does Edith have to do with getting the motor car so dirty?"

Tom glanced at the motor car and shook his head as if in disbelief that one of the motor cars he took such pride in maintaining would look like that.

"Edith has told Papa that she's mastered driving and we can start calling on her to drive us."

Tom shook his head in disgust, the soothing effect she had on him a moment ago when he first saw her had disappeared as he looked once again at the motor car. Nodding his head in the direction of the dirty motor car he bellowed "Does that look like the motor car of someone who can properly drive!"

Sybil was quite surprised by Tom's tone and agitation. If they had been discussing the war or Ireland then sure but discussing the motor car?

"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Your sister doesn't want to listen to me, she thinks she knows what she's doing. She doesn't understand road conditions. She took a curve too fast, drove right off the road."

Sybil could understand that Tom would be annoyed if Edith didn't listen to him but still he seemed to be a bit too much irritated.

"Well at least neither of you were hurt" Sybil thought she'd try to lighten his mood by saying something positive.

Tom inhaled deeply. "One of the back tires became stuck in the mud."

"And your sister … she laughed as if it was so amusing …"

Tom walked slowly around the motor car as if trying to reassure himself that there was no damage.

Tom stopped at the offending tire. "What really makes me mad is that Lady Edith is just like all your lot. She doesn't care that her actions or carelessness causes work for others. If Mr. Crome hadn't come along and helped me we'd still probably be there."

Still looking at the car he continued "now I have to spend what was supposed to be my afternoon off cleaning and polishing and making sure there isn't any damage."

"And forget the work it will take to make my uniform trousers presentable. Just now when I took off my muddy trousers I found that there are a couple of tears in them so I'll probably have to buy a new pair. I'll have to spend my own money because …" Tom kicked the tire.

Sybil walked over to stand by Tom. She had winced when he said "your lot" but as he had continued with his story she could understand his anger at Edith. Yet she could also feel anger with herself because he was right that her class didn't think of the effect of their actions on those that served them. Even she was guilty of that.

She wanted to reach out and pat his arm, to tell him she was sorry, but she knew that would sound hollow. She could tell him she'd help him, it might be fun spending an afternoon splashing water around … stopped herself … that's just it … it isn't fun to him it's his job … and he takes pride in his work.

"The Great War had a profound effect on society. With so many men away fighting, for the first time a large number of women held jobs, doing the work that those soldiers had done before the war. And when the war was over, as many of those men came back to claim their old jobs, many of those women were no longer content to return to their former lives."

Tom looked at his granddaughters. "Sorry to keep getting into politics when it's the story of Edith I'm supposed to be covering."

Looking once more at her headstone Tom sighed. "But so much of Edith's story is interwoven with society of that time."

"Edith was a bit lost after the war. I think she had truly enjoyed the work she had done with the soldiers. But once that was over, once Downton was no longer a convalescent home, the only expectations of her were to ... well … marry … but "

Tom smiled at his granddaughters while thinking that brought him to the story of Edith and the almost wedding.

Not for the first time Tom thought that what the Great War had awakened in Edith, being jilted at the altar had only deepened. And she finally showed a side of her that had been hiding just under the surface if anyone had dared to look.

Tom was driving back from one of the tenant's farms when he spotted Edith walking alone on one of the estate's rarely used roads. He could tell she was in deep concentration because it wasn't until he stopped the car beside her that she seemed to realize his presence.

"What brings you out here?" He hoped his voice sounded light and cheery.

"I just thought the fresh air and sunshine would …" Taking a long look at her brother in law she debated whether to confide in him before remembering that Tom himself had been a journalist and therefore might have some insight.

"I'm thinking over the offer from the editor of the Sketch … that is . . . should I write a column."

Tom got out and came around the car to stand beside Edith. Both of them leaned against the car and stared out at the vast expanse of the estate.

"What is there to think about" Tom asked. "I mean I thought it was something you were interested in."

Edith smiled faintly. "I am interested. I am interested in doing something with my life but … but … of course Papa and Granny think it's foolish and Mary thinks …"

Tom quickly interrupted. "What does it matter what anyone else thinks?"

Edith slightly shook her head, chuckled, and then smiled broadly. "That so sounds like Sybil. Even as a child Sybil didn't care what others thought."

She glanced at her brother in law before turning her gaze once again out across the field and to the house which was barely visible in the distance. "She's always been unafraid to try things. Even though I was the older sibling I found I'd follow her lead. What's the worst that could happen she'd say. Papa will ban us to our rooms for the evening?"

"I remember one day, Sybil was probably about seven or eight, and she thought we should do some exploring of the house. She was determined to eventually go into every room." Edith seeing Tom's expression emitted a small laugh. "I know … hard to imagine having a house with so many rooms one need to make plans to actually visit them all."

"Anyway, we went up to the top floor where we had never been before and into some rooms that I'm not sure when they were last used if ever."

"One of the rooms had these old rickety stairs and Sybil insisted on seeing where they led. Surprisingly it was a way to the roof … to one of those corner turrets" Edith pointed to a corner of the Abbey visible even from this distance.

"The views were amazing. I was surprised how far we could see. We probably spent an hour or so just looking at the views. Then we suddenly realized it was getting cold but when we went to the door we couldn't open it."

"It was getting colder and colder. We kept banging on the door but of course no one could hear us. Finally we heard a car coming up the drive and we stood there waving and shouting but no one saw us. Then Sybil found some stones and threw those down and that got us noticed."

"Of course Papa was very angry. He said we had no business going up there but Sybil was undaunted." Edith laughed as she recalled the scene, Papa his face actually red with anger standing so large in front of little Sybil. While she would have been cowering in fear, the tears running down her face, Sybil stood there in front of her father in the stance Edith always thought of as Sybil's fighting mode with not a tear in sight and her voice strong. "She told him he needed to fix the door so no one could get locked out again."

At that Tom couldn't help but chuckle. He could picture his Sybil saying such a thing, standing there facing her father, her hands on her hips, unrepentant.

Edith continued her story "His reply was to send us to our bedrooms and for the next week we were not allowed any sweets."

"I can still hear Sybil whispering to me I think it was worth it. And the funny thing is every evening that week she'd sneak into my bedroom with a handful of biscuits. She wouldn't tell me how she managed that."

Tom laughed at Edith's story. He knew how headstrong and, dare he think it, devious his wife could be when she set her mind on something.

"Well what is the worst that could happen?" Tom replied gently. "So what if you write something that the editor doesn't like … you just write something else."

Tom put his arm around Edith's shoulder as he would to one of his own sisters. "If you want someone to bounce ideas off of or to look at your writing before submitting it I'd be happy to help."

Edith was silent for a few minutes. Then she smiled broadly at Tom. "You're right … what is the worst that could happen?"

A/N: Thanks again to all who read and review this story. I had quite a hard time coming up with some Tom and Edith memories since they had so little interaction until, in the show, after Sybil's death. Strangely the last part of this chapter was one of the first things I wrote for this story and it's been sitting there waiting for ages.