Thanks so much for the reviews of the last chapter.

"Are you sure you should be doing this?"

Cora looked at her husband's reflection in her vanity table mirror. He was standing at the edge of their four poster bed, his shoulder leaning lightly on one of the tall posts. "Doing what?"

"Going to Isobel's for lunch" Robert replied.

Still looking at his reflection in the vanity mirror Cora smiled. Ever since her bout with pneumonia Robert had been so caring and attentive. Looking at him now, his concern etched across his face, Cora saw the man she had fallen in love with so many years ago. "The doctor said fresh air and sunshine would be good for me."

"He also said plenty of rest and not to tire yourself out."

"That doesn't mean I have to stay in bed all day Robert." Cora turned around to face him. "It's just as restful to sit reading in my sitting room or out in the garden especially the garden Robert since I feel so peaceful there with everything in bloom."

"Sometimes I think it wasn't the house but the grounds and gardens that piqued your interest in me" Robert teased.

"Well what girl could resist having her own Central Park?" Cora laughed.

Robert stepped forward and gently ran his hand across Cora's cheek. "Oh how good it is to see you smile." It wasn't just the recent illness he thought; no she had been out of sorts ever since her return in the spring from America. His hand lingering on her face, his face beaming, he said "I think we still have a number of years left yet."

Cora's reply was to nod her head but then her smile slowly vanished as she suddenly thought of her lost granddaughter. However many years she had left she'd spend them searching for Sybil's daughter. She looked away from Robert and towards the nearest of the tall bedroom windows. From here it looked like a fine summer day with the sun shining and a clear blue sky, a day to be enjoyed outdoors. She suddenly had thoughts of picnics and croquet, of air sweetly scented of roses, of barefeet on soft grass, on …

She felt a hand lightly squeezing her shoulder and someone softly saying her name. She looked up to see Robert staring at her.

"Sorry" she said as she shook her head. "I … I got lost in my thoughts." Then taking a deep breath she stood up. "It looks like a perfect day for luncheon in the garden. George is probably waiting out front with the motor car." She wrapped her arm around Robert's as she said "maybe you could escort me down the stairs and out to the motor."

"Are you comfortable Granny? Are you warm enough? Do you need this throw?"

Smiling, Cora looked up at her grandson hovering over her. He had kindly put a cushion on the wrought iron chair for her and stood holding a throw blanket. "I don't think I need it right now so maybe put it on the bench in case I need it later."

"Of course" he replied. "I'll just pop in and see if Grandmama needs any help. Just call the house when you're ready to go back home."

Watching as he retreated from the garden she couldn't help but think of how much George reminded her of his father, more so in personality than in looks. He had that pleasant way about him like Matthew had. He was also a reminder of how the years had passed. This upcoming school year would be his last before university. As it so often happened these past few months she suddenly thought of her granddaughter Sybil. Little more than a year older than George she'd be out of school now. She'd … the loud squawks of two black birds interrupted her thoughts as did Isobel sitting a tray down on the table.

Cora looked around the walled back garden of Crawley House. The high stone wall kept the garden private and muffled sounds of town life going on just on the other side. The garden was a riot of color with plants blooming in deep reds and rich purples and shades of pinks and blues. While not nearly the size of Downton's garden it was tidy with stone pavers forming pathways as well as a large sitting area dominated by the round wrought iron table. It was a perfect place to lounge in the sunshine or sit and read a book or, as the case today, for lunching.

"I don't think I've ever been back here" Cora said as Isobel poured them glasses of fresh lemonade. "It's so lovely."

"I spend a great deal of my time out here" Isobel responded "or sitting in there" she nodded toward the open French doors of the sitting room "looking out here." She set the pitcher down on the table and looked around the garden. "Dickie loved this place and we spent many lovely hours out here. He enjoyed puttering around the garden. It was our favorite place to sit after dinner and enjoy a glass of port. Even on cooler nights we'd wrap up in blankets, our hands around a warm cup of tea or cocoa, and watch the stars."

"That all sounds so lovely. I can't remember the last time Robert and I sat out together in the garden." Cora responded sounded rather wistful, actually she wasn't sure she and Robert had ever spend time sitting in the garden at least not since their courting days. She took a sip of her lemonade. "I can see why you've hesitated moving into the house with us. It would be hard leaving here with all your memories."

Isobel nodded. "It's not just the memories although I'll admit it does keep Dickie and for that matter Matthew fresh in my mind. But that's not solely the reason I keep turning down your generous offer to move up to the Abbey. I rather enjoy my independence here. And it's nice being in the village even if I don't venture out that much these days."

Cora nodded. "I can see that. I always wondered why Mama didn't move in here rather than the large Dowager House."

Isobel chuckled. "I think you might have answered your question with the description large. I imagine this place was far too small for Violet, not a place worthy of the Dowager Countess of Grantham."

Cora couldn't help but laugh. "I think you might be right about that." She looked again around the garden and thought I could see myself living here.

Their conversation was halted by Isobel's cook Irene bringing out lunch. "It looks delicious" Cora said as Irene set a crab and shrimp salad at her place.

They spent a few minutes eating before conversation picked up again.

"I've been spending a lot of time outside recently" Cora said. "Doctor's orders for fresh air and sunshine and George is adamant about taking me out every day often to the garden but sometimes we've ventured somewhere on the estate. I've seen parts of the estate that I'm not sure I've ever seen before."

Chuckling she added "He likes driving and since Mary will only let him drive around the estate or here to your house I think he's taking full advantage of my doctor's order for fresh air and sunshine."

Isobel joined Cora in laughing. "That does sound like George. But whatever his reason I'm glad he is taking you out. You're looking much better."

"Thanks to you too. I'm grateful for all the hours you spent at the hospital with me even if I was asleep a lot of that time. And of course I'm most grateful for you taking care of that legal matter for me."

"Of course my dear but I am curious as to why you asked me to do it rather than Robert or Mary even."

Cora closed her eyes and tilted her head back letting the sunshine bathe her face. Isobel took a few sips of her lemonade waiting for Cora to speak. For years she had thought of Cora as pleasant and most gracious and certainly inoffensive but she had come to realize that underneath that civility was a more complex woman.

When Cora finally spoke Isobel wasn't surprised by her words. "I knew what I wanted and I didn't want to argue or have to justify my actions."

Isobel nodded her head in understanding. "Do Robert or Mary know that you'd been searching for Sybil's daughter?"

"Robert does."

"And what does he think about that?"

Cora began running her fingers up and down her glass. "I didn't tell him I had engaged an enquiry agent until after the fact. It brings up a very difficult time in our lives … and our marriage. There's plenty of guilt and shame on both our parts and for him it's a reminder of all that and I'm not sure he really wants to face it again. But for me …" she hesitated "During my time in Newport after my brother died I did a lot of thinking … of family … of the past. I came back thinking that somewhere out there I have a granddaughter that I know nothing about other than her name and age. Heaven knows what kind of life she's had. I want to make things right with her."

Isobel nodded in understanding. "I take it she hasn't been found yet."

Cora shook her head. "Not yet. They're searching in England as well as Ireland but she and Tom could be anywhere."

"I won't give you false hope but I'll say don't give up. If nothing else may be someday she might want to know her mother's family. Surely she knows of Downton."

Not that Cora or Isobel, sitting that day in the lovely garden of Crawley House, could know but miles away and across the Irish Sea, Sybbie Branson was giving a great deal of thought to her mother. Since her meeting with Mr. Hutchinson, Enquiry Agent, on the pier she'd been thinking not about the grandmother that wanted to find her but about her mother.

Sybbie loved walking along the beach. In warm weather she loved walking barefoot on the sand and feeling the soft squishy sand beneath her feet. Sometimes she'd walk where the water would rush up on the sand burying her feet in its coldness before slowly ebbing back into the sea. In cooler weather she loved the feel of the briny sea air on her cheeks and of watching the rhythm of the sea as waves rose and fell. It was a place to lose herself, to think of nothing but the sea and the sand but other times it was a place to sit on one of the large rocks so common here and think as she was now doing.

From her skirt pocket Sybbie drew out the wedding photograph of her mother. Holding it tight against the breezes coming off the sea she stared at the young woman with the charming smile, looking so happy and probably thinking of the wonderful future she imagined she'd have. Sybbie put the photograph safely back in her pocket and looked out toward the sea.

When she was young, living a rather isolated life in the chauffeur's cottage on a vast estate in Lancashire, she had never thought about not having a mother. She'd had her father of course and Gran had lived with them. It was Gran that did all those things a mother would do, not that Sybbie knew it then. It wasn't until they moved to Ireland and Sybbie started school that she became aware her classmates had mothers.

Sometimes a classmate or teacher or another parent would express sadness upon learning that Sybbie had no mother but she herself felt no such sadness. How could she miss what she had never had?

Then when she was about nine Daddy had brought Kate O'Shera into her life and slowly vibrant Kate became what Sybbie thought a mother should be. The saddest day of her life was not quite two years later when Kate abruptly left. She didn't understand it even after hearing snatches of conversations about living in the shadow of another, of not being her, of living in the present and not the past. Sybbie eventually went to the library where Kate worked and sat crying as did Kate who told her that sometimes things just don't work out between a man and a woman. She had sat in Kate's lap, Kate stroking her long dark hair and telling her but Daddy isn't happy. Please come back she begged but Kate shook her head and said someday Sybbie would understand.

To her inquiries Gran had only said He's a fool.

Then a year later Kate was back and the happiest day of Sybbie's life was when Kate and her father married shortly thereafter. She finally had a mother.

Sybbie once again took the photograph out of her pocket. Kate had been everything Sybbie wanted in a mother. Yet as Sybbie looked at the photograph she couldn't help but wonder about this woman with the beaming smile who had given her life.

She knew at this time of day her father was often in the big barn in the field next to their house. He'd divided the old barn into an office and a large combination garage and workshop. The wide barn door that served as the entrance to the garage/workshop end was open letting sunshine and fresh air fill the rather large space. Tom wasn't aware of his daughter's presence as she stood in the doorway watching him work on a motor car. It was a sideline of his buying usually older motor cars but sometimes ones like this particular one that had been in a wreck and making them like new. She recalled this motor car had a broken side window and had been covered in dents and scratched paint so bad that one could see the gray steel beneath and had been bought cheaply from a man her father described as having far more money than brains.

"It's looking good." Sybbie finally made known her presence.

Her father stood up straight, hands on his hips. "Just good?"

"Well it's not done yet is it?" Sybbie answered back.

Tom laughed. "So what brings you here on this fine day?"

Sybbie lowered her head and looked down towards the floor. "I … I…" while she wiped some imaginary lint off her skirt Tom stood waiting. Usually his daughter was quite frank and open but every now and then she was like now seemingly hesitant on speaking whatever was on her mind. It was something that reminded him of Sybil and like her mother he knew she'd talk when she was ready. "I …" she looked up at her father "I want to know about my mother."

His brow furrowed he stared at her for so long Sybbie wondered if he was going to speak. "Whatever's brought this on" he finally managed to say.

She was hesitant to tell him just yet about Mr. Hutchinson, Enquiry Agent, although she knew she would have to do so soon since he'd be back in a few days.

"Every year we light a candle for her on her birthday but we don't really talk about her. You and Gran and my aunts say she was kind and caring and beautiful and as that woman said to me at Mrs. Murphy's funeral just lovely but none of that really tells me about her" Sybbie gave a small shrug "what she liked and didn't like, what she was like as a person Daddy. Why did you fall in love with her and her with you although she came from such a different background."

Tom wiped his hands on a rag and placed it on his workbench. He looked around this part of the old barn that was now like a garage. He stared at the motor car but instead of seeing the 1935 Austin Siddeley he saw a 1912 Renault.

His back to the garage door, busy fixing one of the headlamps, he heard the unfamiliar clack of footsteps on the cement floor. Turning around he was surprised to see Lady Sybil standing there not quite as elegantly dressed as she was the few times he had seen her but even in this flowered blouse and dark blue skirt with her dark hair mostly hidden by a wide brimmed straw hat she was beautiful. It was the first time she had come to the garage and she looked a bit nervous.

"I'm sorry" he said "Did I forget to bring the motor around?"

She shook her head and unexpectedly laughed, a wonderful deep throaty laugh. "No. I was just out walking and when I saw the garage I remembered that I wanted to talk to you about something I read in one of those pamphlets you gave me but if you're busy I could perhaps come back another time."

"It's funny you should ask me this here" he nodded his head towards the motor car. "So much of your mother's and my life revolved around a garage." He chuckled. "With me being the chauffeur it wasn't like I could come up to the house for tea or take a stroll around the gardens with her."

"So you'd meet in the garage."

"Aye. But it wasn't … well it wasn't like …" He motioned her over and with him arm around her shoulders he led her out of this part of the old barn and around to the side yard that looked out to the sea. It wasn't a garden like the yard outside the hotel and their house for it was more of a field with a chicken coop and where their two cows grazed. They sat down on a hay bale and Sybbie leaned back against the barn.

"I can still remember the first time I saw your mother" Tom began.

Mary was glad when she turned the small truck onto the gravel drive leading up to the Abbey. She had found the whole afternoon quite exasperating, well to be honest it was her father that she found exasperating. The man had absolutely no business sense. She glanced over at her father sitting in the passenger seat. It took all of her strength not to say to him that no wonder he had lost all of her mother's dowry and for the first time she thought that maybe her mother was right not to sign over her inheritance from Harold to the estate.

She had driven half way up the drive when a motor car came from the direction of the house. The driver nodded at them as he passed but he continued on down the drive.

"I wonder whoever that was" Mary commented as she looked in the rear view mirror at the late model Ulster. Henry had the same type of motor car in his showroom.

She stopped the truck in front of the Abbey and silently each of them got out. As Mary stepped onto the gravel she looked at the tall wooden doors and suddenly her thoughts went to Carson. It had been years now that Carson was gone but Mary still found herself at the oddest of moments thinking of him. He would have been standing by the open front door waiting for them to arrive, ready to step forward and open the truck's door for her then ushering them into the house.

The heels of her boots tapping on the tile floor of the entrance hall sounded heavy to her, another sign of her irritation. Just as she and her father approached the grand salon Barrow, carrying a silver tray loaded with the remains of a tea service, came out of the library. Obviously surprised to see them he stopped before greeting them with a nod of his head and saying "you had nice weather for a day out on the estate." Then before either Mary or her father could comment he continued "Should I bring some tea to the library?"

Quickly noting that the man they passed on the drive had been served tea, Mary asked "who was that man that just left?"

"He was here to see her ladyship" Barrow responded.

Her tone conveying her surprise Mary said "Mama?" Then quickly turning to face her father Mary said "Did you know he was coming here?"

Robert shook his head "I have no idea who the man was."

Both Mary and Robert looked to Barrow as if he could answer their unasked question but the butler, who prided himself on knowing what the family was up to whether or not they wanted him to have such knowledge, gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "A man identifying himself as a Mr. Hutchinson phoned here shortly after you left this morning asking to speak to her ladyship. When I enquired as to the purpose of his phone call he said Lady Grantham was expecting his call."

"More business about Uncle Harold's estate I suppose" Mary said before making an exaggerated sigh "really Papa I wonder how competent the firm handling it is."

Instead of commenting Robert moved towards the library door but stopped when Barrow said "Her ladyship has gone upstairs. I believe to her sitting room."

While Robert then strode across the salon to the grand staircase Mary turned towards the library door. "Please send up some tea Barrow" but as she walked into the library she thought maybe a glass of whiskey would be more comforting.

Standing in the doorway of his wife's sitting room Robert, a man of tradition, wondered if he'd ever get used to the new décor. Not that he came here much for this was Cora's domain but until she had returned from her trip back in the spring to America the room had been much as he remembered from the time he was a small boy and nanny would bring him and Rosamund in here in the morning for a few minutes with his mother. Gone was that heaviness and stuffiness emitted by the drapes and furniture and wallpaper of his mother's replaced by a lighter and airier softness. It was he thought a reflection of his wife herself.

Cora was sitting in front of one of the windows engrossed in a large book which if Robert had looked at more closely he would have seen it was a photograph album. The sunlight streaming in through the window gave her a glow and once again he gave a silent prayer for her recovery. She must have sensed he was standing there for she looked up at him and smiled. "I don't see any bruises or torn clothing so you made in through the afternoon all right" she teased.

He tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. "Sometimes Mary and I are … well she does have a good head for business I'll give her that but the way she deals with people-" he shook his head and spread out his arms. "I'll go out in a day or two and try to smooth things over."

"Maybe you should take George with you after all one day all of this will be his. Who knows he might be a good buffer between you and Mary."

"I think it will be years before George has much of a say for even when I'm gone Mary will still own half the estate."

"But it might be good now to start letting him see what running the estate involves."

"I guess it wouldn't hurt." He walked over to the other window and looked out at the peaceful scene outside. "Who was the man in the motor car that passed us as we were coming up the drive?"

Cora slowly put the book she had been looking at on the small table in front of her. "They've found her." Her voice was so quiet Robert barely heard her.

She turned and looked at him. "They've found our granddaughter."

But Robert noting the unshed tears in her eyes wasn't sure if they were from joy or sorrow.