A/N: The title of this story is quite appropriate since it was exactly one year ago that I posted the first chapter. However, I'll admit that it was never my intention to do one chapter each year!

May 1922

Standing at one of her bedroom windows, Mary looked out across the front lawn and down the gravel drive towards the village. Although the village was only a short walk away, the trees and towering bushes prevented any sight of it from the house although if one peered hard enough the top of the church spire was just barely visible above the tree line. Mary stared at the spire top and wondered again, for what seemed like the fiftieth time, if he would be there or if he did come what time he'd be there. She couldn't take the chance of missing him so she had gotten up early much to the astonishment of Anna who wasn't sure if the fact that Lady Mary was up and about so early or the fact that she was actually dressed to leave the house that was the more surprising.

Of course he would be there Mary silently told herself once again.

Carrying the two colorful bouquets that Anna had brought to her bedroom and a large hat box, Mary quietly stepped across the grand salon towards the entrance hall and the front door. She didn't want to see Carson or her father, didn't want to explain where she was going, didn't want to take the chance that her father would insist on accompanying her.

Rounding the corner of the old stone church, Mary hesitates just inside the entrance to the graveyard. She's only been here a couple of times since Matthew's death and her sight automatically goes to his stone marker, which stands out among the smaller headstones. She closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths to stave off a wave of that gnawing grief that is still just below the surface. Opening her eyes she looks around the graveyard, looking anywhere but at Matthew's grave before finally settling on Sybil's stone tomb. To her great relief a man is standing there, his hand resting atop the cold stone and although his back is towards her she knows it must be Tom. She's sure he's wearing the same cheap suit as last year and she's surprised that it still hangs on him as if it belongs to someone heavier.

As she watches him move his hand and rub it along the words carved in the stone, it hits her that he is alone and she immediately feels a pang of disappointment. As much as she wants to see him, to talk to him, for he is the only other person who can truly relate to what's happened to her, she realizes that she needs to see Sybil's child.

Deciding she'd let Tom spend a few more minutes alone with Sybil, Mary walks to Matthew's grave. Bending down she lays one of the bouquets at the foot of the stone monument that is Matthew's headstone. I'll always miss you and love you Matthew she silently says before straightening up and kissing her fingers and then reaching out her hand and touching the top of the headstone.

A child's laughter breaks the calm silence and Mary looks up to see a toddler dressed in a pretty blue and white checked dress, her arms flung high and wide, running towards Tom. Tom swoops her up into his arms and kisses her forehead causing Mary to smile at the delightful scene of father and child.

As she watches them, Mary is surprised to see a woman walk up and stand in front of Tom. Her smile vanishing, Mary watches as the young woman, much too young for Tom she thinks, holds out her arms toward Sybbie. Even though she is standing only ten, maybe fifteen feet, from them Mary can't comprehend what the woman is saying to Tom.

Tom must have sensed her presence for he looks her way. Mary wants to take off but her feet suddenly feel like lead and they refuse to move.

Tom, still holding Sybbie in his arms, walk towards Mary.

"I was wondering if you'd remember." He broadly smiles, Mary realizes it is a genuine smile that lights up not only his face but also his eyes, but he makes no move to shake her hand or kiss her cheek.

"It is good to see you Tom." She returns his smile and then her hand reaching up to touch Sybbie's cheek she says "and to see you too Sybbie."

Mary continues to smile although her heart breaks a bit noticing how much Sybbie looks like her mother. Her hair isn't quite as dark as Sybil's but the blue eyes are bright like Sybil's and the smile … Sybbie looks so much like the images Mary has seen of Sybil at that age. It's also obvious to Mary that what money Tom has he must spend on Sybbie for her dress looks new and nicely pressed and matches her blue knit sweater perfectly.

"Lady Mary" the young woman, probably still in her late teens but not more than twenty Mary determines upon closely inspecting her, has joined them and Mary is surprised she knows her name. "You probably don't remember me but I met you at Tom and Sybil's wedding. I'm Tom's youngest sister Maeve."

"Of course" Mary replied although she wasn't sure she remembered the girl. She certainly didn't remember any of Tom's sisters looking quite so modern as this girl with her light brown hair cut in a short bob and her long-sleeved dark red dropped-waist dress that while certainly not of the quality of Mary's clothes was rather fashionable.

"Maeve was still in school then" seeing Mary's uncertainly Tom injected. "She's finished school now and has been helping us with the business and with Sybbie."

Maeve looked back at Sybil's grave and then at Mary. "I adored Sybil and she was so kind to me … she encouraged me in my school work and we talked about books and …" she stopped as tears filled her eyes. "It's just so hard to believe what happened."

Maeve looked at Tom and said "what if I take Sybbie for a walk around the village so you two can talk."

"Maeve's been such a big help to me" Tom said as he watched his sister and daughter slowly walk towards the gate. "Sybbie's too rambunctious for such a long motor car ride so it's was good to have Meave keep her seated and entertained."

"So you have a motor car now?" Mary asked.

"It's actually a Morris van that we use for the business" he replied.

"A van" Mary murmured. "That's better." She looked at him "I've packed up some things for Sybbie … and some things that belonged to Sybil and are rightly yours and some things … things … things that" she looked away. Tom took her arm and led her to one of the wooden benches.

Sitting down she gave him a weak smile. "There's some things that were Matthew's that I thought might fit you like sweaters and jackets."

"And you fit all that in that hatbox?" He raised his brow as he pointed to the box on her lap.

"Of course not Tom. This box has some of the more valuable things like Sybil's jewelry and some breakables like a china elephant that Sybil was also so fond of. The larger boxes are …"

"Mary" his voiced sounded a little harsher than he wanted. "I'm not coming up to the house to get them if this is your plan to get me there." The venom in his voice startled her.

"You think I'm that devious?" She stared him in the eye but he didn't answer her. "I had them delivered to the railway station."

Then with her voice almost a whisper she asked "will you never-" But seeing his eyes drift towards Sybil's tomb she didn't finish speaking. Following him, her sight also rested on her beloved sister's grave and she thought that in Tom's shoes she might well feel the same bitterness towards her family.

She looked away and took a deep breath. "Thank you for the card about Matthew. Your letter meant so much not only for the kind words you wrote of him but how well you wrote of grief. No one else has understood."

"How did you get through it Tom?" He doesn't need to look at Mary's face to realize the pain that is still there for he knows such pain all too well. It is something that as the months pass may not be quite so plainly written on one's face but it is still there simmering just below the surface ready to erupt at any moment. It doesn't have to be an obvious moment, seeing her name written on the title page of a book or seeing a woman in a nurse's uniform or walking past someone with her favorite scent, sometimes it's the color of the sky that reminds him of her eyes or a rainy day that's the type she said was always good for snuggling in a comfy chair and reading a book.

He thought of how this past year had been so much harder than the first year. The winter had been long and cold with endless days of gray skies sometimes erupting into snow or sleet and he'd often felt as bleak as the dark winter days. The cold permeated the garage and into the small flat above causing him and Kiernan to spend too much of their hard earned money on coal but he wouldn't take chances with little Sybbie catching pneumonia or worse from an unheated flat. He'd kept her bundled in hand-knit sweaters, heavy woolen socks, and, in something he thought Sybil would have loved, boy's trousers which seemed so much warmer than dresses. Once Sybbie started walking she was no longer content spending her days in the tiny play space he had created for in the garage but the money to hire someone to watch her just wasn't there. And so he taken Sybbie to his mother in Ireland and left her there for almost three months. It had broken his heart to do so but he saw no other way to properly care for her. Although he had visited her every three weeks, he felt ashamed that he couldn't better provide for her and worst of all was that he felt he had betrayed Sybil. But he couldn't tell these things to Mary, not because he feared she wouldn't understand but because he was too embarrassed.

He turned his face to look at her. "I don't even know if you had a boy or girl."

"What?" His sudden change of topic caught her off guard.

"Last year … here … you told me you were expecting."

Mary nodded. "A boy. His name is George and he looks just like Matthew with his blue eyes and blond hair."

"So a future Earl."

"Hopefully there will still be an estate to inherit along with the title. Since the war so many of our class has had to sell up."

"What do you mean Mary … has your father done something foolish again?"

She shook her head. "I've inherited Matthew's half of the estate but Papa doesn't want to do all the things Matthew wanted and he doesn't think I'm capable of-."

"Nonsense" Tom quickly interrupted her. ""You can't let your father run the estate alone … remember he almost bankrupted it. You need to get a good estate manager."

"I am the new estate manager."

He looked at her in surprise. "You …"

"You say that as if I can't do it. I thought you believed in women's rights and all that stuff."

"I'm just surprised you're taking it on but I'm glad to hear it. You need to implement Matthew's ideas." He once again looked at her and grinned. "Sybil would be quite proud of you."

Mary returned his grin. "I'm not the only working Crawley sister. Edith is a writer now or at least she purports to be but I think she's really only after her editor. Seriously she needs to dart up to London every other week to discuss her writings?"

Tom lowered his head and ran his hand across his forehead but there was mirth in voice as he said "Now that's more like the Mary I know."

Raising his head he looked at her "won't you ever give Edith a break?"

"Really Tom" Mary began in that most Lady Mary voice of hers. "You can't imagine what it's like with you and Sybil and Matthew gone and it's just me with her."

"Well it was just the two of us but now there's our cousin Rose, well actually Granny's grandniece that's come to stay with us. She's quite a handful and I'm not sure how we'll manage until her coming out next year."

Mary grabbed Tom's arm. "Oh you'll love this. Rose's parents moved to India and you'll never believe who went with them."

Tom had to chuckle at Mary's merriment and he waited for her reveal.

"O'brien!" Mary finally blurted.

"O'brien?"

Nodding her head Mary explained that O'brien had taken the job as lady's maid to Rose mother. "Didn't think we'd ever get rid of her."

"Whatever is Thomas doing without his partner in crime?"

Mary chuckled. "I think they had a falling out way before O'brien left. Anyway, there's a new handsome footman he has his eye on."

Amused Tom shook his head. "So things can change at Downton?"

At the railway station, Mary held Sybbie while Tom and Maeve loaded the boxes into the Morris Motors van that had Branson's Garage written on the side.

"The business must be doing well to have this truck" Mary commented.

"It's taken some time getting a new business off the ground but things are coming around now. Maeve's been a big help … she's great with the customers and is learning how to do the books."

"I wish …" Mary kissed Sybbie's cheek. "I wish you were still here. I could use your help with the estate."

"You'll do fine Mary. Educate yourself. Read up on all the latest farming techniques and new equipment. Join some associations."

Mary nodded. "See you're already giving me good advice."

Tom held out his arms for Sybbie but Mary wasn't quite ready to let her go. Her hand brushed back Sybbie's hair and then she hugged her tightly. Holding Sybbie snug against her chest, tears formed in Mary's eyes. "I'm afraid Tom … afraid of losing thoughts of him. Afraid of not remembering what Matthew's voice sounded like. Afraid of not remembering the way he walked, that smile he had."

"You'll always have your memories Mary. And at the oddest of times something will come back to you."

"We've lost great loves Tom."

"Aye we have Mary but at least we've been lucky enough to have had a great love."

"That …" Maeve gestured toward the behemoth that was Downton Abbey "that is where Sybil grew up? I knew she was rich but it's a fecking castle."

Standing beside the small Morris Motors van with Branson's painted on the side, Tom couldn't help but chuckle at Maeve's disbelief. He had taken a slight detour to satisfy Maeve's curiosity and had driven the van down a side road from which one had a view across a rolling field to the Abbey whose warm honey colored stone glowed in the sunlight. For a moment he remembered how he too had been awed the first time he had seen the imposing sight that was Downton Abbey.

Mary was settled in the lounge chair and had just turned the page of her book when the door to her bedroom opened.

"Granny! Heavens! What brings you here?"

"Can't I visit my granddaughter without a reason?"

"Of course you can but we both know you don't."

Violet barreled her way into the room, her cane tapping at each footstep, and sat on the edge of the bed facing Mary.

"I hear you were out all morning."

"And that news is of such great importance that you had to come see me?"

"When you've spent months hidden away in this room it is news."

Mary set her book on the stand next to her chair fearing that if granny started yammering once again about how important it was for her to get out and about she might throw the book at her. She was tired of everyone telling her what to do, telling her she needed to get on with her life. At least with Tom it had been different.

"I was in the village today."

Something in Violet's voice caused Mary to sit up.

"I saw a young woman walking with a little girl that looked quite like Sybil at that young age. She even looked about the age that Sybil's daughter would be now. I tried following her but the young woman walked too fast for me. Would you know anything about this? Might this have something to do with your mysterious disappearance this morning?"