A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews of the last chapter. This was going to be just a short bridge to the next chapter but I kinda got carried away. Hope you'll like it.

MAY 1926

"Why haven't you told me this before?" Henry, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked at his wife. He was astounded at the story Mary had just told him of meeting her brother-in-law once a year and how they'd spend the day together. He might have winced that she called Tom her most trusted advisor but then the man had been in her life much longer that he had and Henry would admit that he knew little of farming or running an estate.

Mary looked at his reflection in the vanity mirror and slightly sighed before setting her bottle of hand lotion on the vanity table. "It just …" she stalled as she fiddled with the bottle of lotion before finally turning around to face her husband. "I guess I just didn't think of telling you before. Last year when Tom came we weren't … well you and I were just getting to know each other so I didn't think of telling you."

"He comes every year on their anniversary?" Henry's voice sounded a mixture of incredulousness and curiosity.

Mary nodded. "It's strange that I even met him that first year. I don't think I'd been to the graveyard since …" Mary looked down at her hands "since Sybil's funeral but-" she stood and walked over to the window. Pulling the silk drapery back just a little bit more she looked out to what looked like a wonderful spring morning with the sun shining and the sky a vivid cloudless blue. It looked like the kind of morning that a young Sybil would beg her sisters to come outside and play.

Still fingering the soft drapery, Mary started talking again "that morning I went out for a walk and just ended up there in the cemetery. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised to see the other."

"And that was the first time you'd seen him since he'd left?" While Mary occasionally talked about her youngest sister and always in glowing terms, quite a contrast to how she talked about Edith Henry noted, it was usually stories of their childhood. When he had first become attracted to Mary, his aunt, a good friend of Violet Crawley, had told him about the family including the sad story of the death of the youngest Crawley daughter. Mary never really spoke of that night saying it was too painful to think of her sister's last minutes on this earth but she had said Sybil's death had torn her family apart.

"Papa never really accepted Sybil marrying Tom. He refused to attend their wedding and when they came back here after the trouble Tom got into in Ireland he-"

"What trouble did Tom get into in Ireland?" Henry interrupted her as this was the first he heard about this.

Mary took a deep breath and shook her head. "Tom was … is … an Irish republican and … well it was during that time that …" she turned back towards the window "It doesn't really matter now but it was just another excuse for Papa to dislike the man. To Papa Tom was just the chauffeur who had no place in this house especially after Sybil died." Her voice became softer and Henry had to strain to hear her. "He drove Tom away."

Henry had been in homes where a child had died, especially after the war it was almost impossible not to, family members still talked about their lost one and their photographs were often prominently displayed but not at Downton. The few photographs displayed of Sybil were of a young Sybil with her sisters and the rare mention of her name usually invoked an uncomfortable silence. In private, Mary of course talked of Sybil and even on a couple of occasions when he and Edith had been alone she had talked of her younger sister.

Mary slowly walked back to the vanity table and sat down facing Henry. "It was so wonderful to see Tom that day at the cemetery and to see the baby. Oh how many times I had thought of her and feared how she was living but that baby was loved and well cared for. Papa will never see it but Tom so loved Sybil."

Henry reached out and took Mary's hands in his. "Do you really think he'll come today? I mean now that he's living in Ireland."

Mary cast her eyes downward and nervously nibbled on her bottom lip. "I really don't know" she finally whispered. "The only communication I've had from him was a short note after Christmas when he said things were still unsettled and he didn't have a permanent address yet."

"Well I'll come with you … keep you company. I'd like to meet him."

Mary looked at Henry and gave him a wan smile. "That's quite sweet of you but I prefer meeting Tom alone." Seeing the look in Henry's eyes she quickly added "at least in the beginning. It's just that there are things I'd like to talk to him, things that probably wouldn't be of interest to you. I think you and Tom would get along quite well and if you're there I'm sure the conversation would drift to motor cars something you both have a great love for and which-"

"You don't have any interest in" Henry completed his wife's sentence. Mary nodded in agreement.

Henry had offered to drop Mary off at the cemetery on his way to York but it was such a lovely morning that Mary had decided to walk to the cemetery. Really Henry it's not that far and I need the exercise besides you need to leave now and I doubt that Tom would be there this early.

The late morning air was warm making her stroll into the village quite pleasant. Mary stopped to exchange pleasantries with a couple of villagers and the wife of one of the tenants, a scene that in her not too distant past would have been almost unimaginable. At the churchyard's wooden gate she stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. If he comes he comes and if he doesn't he doesn't.

Taking a few steps into the churchyard she stopped and listened for the slightest peal of laughter from Sybbie or the soft murmurs of Tom's voice but there was only silence. Rounding the corner of the church and spying Sybil's grave the feeling of hope Mary had turned to disappointment for there was no one there. Slowly she walked toward further into the graveyard, passing Sybil's stone tomb before stopping in front of Matthew's headstone. As happy as she was now seeing those words Matthew Reginald Crawley still brought a sorrow to her heart.

Kneeling she dropped the bundle of fresh flowers the gardener had picked her for that morning. Choosing an array of colorful lilacs she placed them in a metal vase that had been planted in front of the headstone. Leaning back she once again stared at the headstone's engraved words. Beloved Husband and Father. Running a finger over the word father she whispered "George looks so much like you Matthew and he has so much of your personality."

She stood up. "Henry's a good father to him. We're both happy like I know you'd want us to be." She looked silently at the headstone for a few moments before kissing her fingertips and then touching the engraved Matthew. "I'll always love you Matthew. Always."

After arranging another bouquet at Sybil's grave Mary stood up. "I picked, well I had the gardener's pick" she gave a smile "flowers that I remember you had in your wedding bouquet." Her hand gently rubbing her sister's name she continued "you were so happy and looked so beautiful that day. I'm sorry I …" Mary took a deep breath and looked up at the cloudless sky.

"You once said to me you wished I'd know him, that I'd see what a wonderful man he is" Mary murmured before smiling. "Now I have gotten to know him and value him and I hope you know that." She glanced again around the deserted graveyard before looking again at Sybil's tomb. "Will it make you chuckle to know how much I'm disappointed he's not here today, to know that I'm actually missing him?"

Needing to rest before walking back to the abbey Mary sat down on the bench closest to Sybil's grave. It was peaceful sitting here with the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the overhanging tree branches, the only sound was the soft chirping of a bird on a tree further away, and the air was perfumed with the lilacs she had put at the graves. Her jacket was unbuttoned and she rubbed her hand across her belly. Looking at Sybil's tombstone she said "yes soon George will have a little brother or sister."

"I remember when you were born I didn't want another sister … didn't want another Edith. I don't think I even looked at you until you were a couple of months old for fear you'd look like Edith but you didn't look at all like her, you were this chubby little thing with dark curly hair and bright blue eyes and you smiled at me and I fell in love with you."

"You were the one that held us together although I'll always believe you liked me more than Edith. I think you'd be happy to know that Edith and I sorta have a truce now although I guess it helps that she's living hundreds of miles away. She seems quite happy and I'll admit Bertie is very nice actually he's much too nice for …" Mary chuckled. "I'm sorry I can't help it. I wish I was as nice of person as you were. I wish … I wish …" Mary crumbled into tears.

"I don't know what's come over me" Mary said as she wiped away the tears. "I still miss you so much Sybil."

The middle aged woman was surprised to see another woman sitting on one of the benches for it was rare outside of Sundays and holidays to see someone else in the graveyard. She had to pass by that bench and had intended only to nod in greeting but the woman's head was tilted back as if she were looking up at the sky but her eyes were closed.

"Maam" the woman said gently. "Maam" she repeated a bit more loudly. She stopped and tugged gently on Mary's arm. "Are you alright?"

Jolting awake Mary looked a bit confused, looking around as if trying to place where she was before her eyes focused on the woman standing in front of her. Dressed in a dowdy brown coat and a floppy plaid hat covering the top of her head the woman had a kind face.

"Sorry to disturb you but I just wanted to make sure" the woman began before realizing who it was. She stepped back and uttered "Oh! Lady Mary!"

At that Mary drew herself upright. Her puzzlement at who this woman was answered when she said "I'm Mrs. Greenly my lady. Came to see my boy Billy. Lost him in the war you know."

Mary gave a wan smile. "Guess you're here to see" the woman looked around and spotted Sybil's tomb "to see your sister. Fine lady your sister was. Remember her as a child she'd come to the farm with your father and she'd play with Billy and my girls just like she was one of them. Running around they would playing tag or chasing rabbits."

Mrs. Greenly smiled at the memory. "Wasn't surprised that she became a nurse during the war. That was so like her, sweet and kind she was. And she remembered me Billy when he was sent home from France all wounded. She'd sit with him and talk to him about those days playing even though he-". She stopped talking and took a deep breath. "Don't matter how long they been gone it still hurts. Don't seem right them two gone way too soon. Course they say the Lord takes the good ones first."

She looked at Mary and smiled. "Better get these flowers over to my Billy."

Mary watched her slowly walk away until she turned past the corner of the church. She stood up intending to start home but instead she went to Sybil's tomb reaching out and touching the sun warmed stone. She looked over at the Matthew's headstone and then back to Sybil's. Quietly she spoke "You and Matthew were the best of us."

His boyhood church had always seemed cold and imposing with its stone walls and narrow windows. Now as he looked around it seemed shabby much like the neighborhood surrounding it. The red carpet that ran down the aisle was faded and threadbare, the altar cloth was no longer stark white and a few window panes were cracked. But on that day seven years ago it had been beautiful.

"There were baskets of filled with flowers that your mummy and Aunt Maeve, Aunt Siobhan and Aunt Em had picked, flowers just like these." Tom standing in front of the altar explained to Sybbie. "They draped white and green ribbons on the baskets and the end of the pews and here" he said as he set the flower filled vase down on the riser behind them "was the biggest arrangement of flowers."

"I was standing here and the organ began playing and then I saw your mummy back there" he pointed to the end of the pews. "At first I thought I was seeing an angel with the way the light streaming through those windows shone on her."

"She had on this lovely white dress your Grandma had embellished with lace and she carried white and purple flowers."

"I love purple flowers Daddy."

"And so did your mummy." He reached behind him and plucked out a purple flower and tucked it into Sybbie's hair. "You like so much like her."

It wasn't the kind of place he'd normally patronize. Pubs were more to his liking but today with Sybbie a pub wouldn't do. Sybil had once told him that as a child her favorite meal had been afternoon tea. Not just because it was the only time she ate with her parents but because of the array of sandwiches and even better the sweet treats that were offered. The only birthday she had celebrated in Dublin Tom had taken her to afternoon tea. It wasn't any place as lavish as the Shelbourne for he could never afford such a place but the tea room he found was charming with dark wood tables, red velvet chairs, and a large picture window that looked out onto a garden. Sybil had been absolutely delighted with both the place and the food.

He didn't think Sybbie was ready for someplace quite as elegant as that tea room but this place looked a good substitute. The tile floor was shiny, the small tables were polished and the green cushioned chairs matched the drapes hang at the window.

"My don't you look pretty" the kindly-faced middle aged waitress looking at Sybbie smiled. "I bet it's some special occasion." Indeed the little girl wearing a white dress with hand stitched smocking trimmed with plum colored dots and a matching plum colored ribbon holding back her dark curls looked as if she were dressed for a party.

Sybbie vigorously nodded her head. "Today is mummy and daddy's anna … anna …" she scrunched her face trying to remember the word. "Annasary" she finally expelled much to her delight.

The waitress looked rather perplexed at Tom who answered her unasked question. "She means anniversary."

"We went to the church and Daddy told me all about that day" his daughter continued on. "It was beautiful and so was mummy."

"I see" the waitress laughingly replied.

"Sybbie you need to use your quiet voice here" Tom kindly reminded his exuberant daughter.

"And will your mummy be joining you?" The question asked in innocence.

Before Tom could reply Sybbie blurted "Mummy's in heaven."

"Oh!" The waitress' face reddened in embarrassment as she looked from Sybbie to Tom. "I'm-"

"It's alright" Tom interrupted her. Smiling he continued "it's been almost six years since my wife died."

"Six years" the waitress mumbled as she looked at Sybbie, trying to guess her age Tom thought.

Noting her discomfort Tom said "I like to do something special to honor that wonderful day we married. It's a day that should be remembered with happiness." He looked across the table to his daughter "and today I thought we'd honor it by having tea somewhere nice. It's my daughter's first afternoon tea."

"Aye" the woman smiled at Tom. "Then we'll make it extra special."

"Ma are you going to be here for a while?"

Orla Branson stared at her son and rolled her eyes. "Where would I be going at this time of night?"

Tom laughed. "It's just past nine o'clock."

She pulled the cotton belt of her robe a bit tighter. "And me in my robe. Where would I go dressed liked this?"

"I guess it was just a polite way of asking if you'll watch Sybbie while I go out."

"That sweet child is already asleep, her belly full of those fairy cakes which now she wants me to start making."

Tom laughed again. "She's already asked when we can go for afternoon tea again."

"Fine then I won't have to make those fairy cakes."

Tom put on his jacket. "I won't be long."

Orla reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Are you alright son?"

"I'm fine Ma."

She brushed his hair back as she had done when he was a little boy, her eyes searching his face as if trying to read his thoughts. "I know your time together was short but you were both so happy. Think of those good times remembering what was and not of what might have been."

"Sometimes Ma I'm afraid of not remembering. That she'll just …" he paused as he briefly closed his eyes. "Do you still think of Pa?"

"Of course I do lad. Not often but I do think of him." She smiled. "It usually comes at the oddest of times. Like the way one of you boys do something like he did or make a comment that he would have said."

"You never remarried."

"What man would have wanted a middle-aged woman with seven kids? Likely not one I would have wanted."

It was just a short stroll, only about five minutes, to the pier. When he'd come back to Dublin he realized he couldn't live in his old neighborhood, not with Sybbie and he didn't think it was fit for his mother anymore either. It had been a struggle to get his mother to agree to move. Most my life has been in this house she'd said. It's not the same neighborhood Ma as when I was a boy he'd said or was it that he was different now from that young lad?

He walked past the pier where a few people strolled and fishing boats bobbed up and down. Not much further along but away from the lights of town was a sandy stretch of beach. On one of his earlier walks here had had found an old log that provided a sturdy seat and he sat there now. During the day there would be others walking along here and sea birds squawking as they swooped down hoping to catch a fish but tonight it was only him and the only noise was the gentle lapping of the water as it came ashore. The moon was just barely more than a silver sliver but the sky was brightened by a thousand twinkling stars. He looked up searching for the brightest one.

"Remember that night I picked you up from the hospital but instead of going home you asked me to drive somewhere we could look at the stars. You pointed out Orion and told me his story. You talked of some of the other constellations and I marveled at your knowledge of the moon and the stars" he talked quietly into the night. "That was one of the things I loved about you how you could surprise me with this knowledge of things I knew nothing about. Because of you I see the stars and trees and flowers differently."

"I'll never regret all those days I spent just hoping to see you. Those days when just seeing your smile lit up my day. Those days hoping you'd find some need for the motor car."

"I loved that you always encouraged me. You didn't think my not wanting to always be a chauffeur was foolish, that politics was a fine ambition. I reached for the stars and found you."

He stopped talking and watched the water rush up the sand and then just as quickly return to the sea. "I think I have the life now we thought we'd have. I'm working for several different newspapers mostly covering local politics but some motor car stuff. It's beginning to feel like I'm the journalist you always thought I could be. Our daughter keeps me busy, hard to believe she'll start school this year. Part of the reason I moved out here was so that she'd have a really good local school. That's fulfilling one of your dreams love, she'll get the education you always wanted."

"Dublin's only a quick tram ride away but out here we have a nice garden and plenty of places for Sybbie to play outside. You'd love it here Sybil where we'd be able to stroll down to the sea any evening. We had some fine days at the seaside didn't we?"

"I feel like I'm living again, not just going through the motions." He looked back up at the sky and his sight settled once again on the brightest star. "Love know that Sybbie and I are doing fine now. I'll do my best to make you part of her life. Whatever the future brings know that there will always be a place for you in my heart. I'll love you always."