A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews of the last chapter. I'm glad you didn't think there was too much Sybbie. There is quite a bit of her in this chapter too.

May 1932

"Daddy! Daddy" Sybbie came bounding into the small alcove off the dining room where Tom was sleeping on a narrow sofa, her footsteps almost as loud as her voice. Keeping his eyes closed Tom remained motionless as if doing so would discourage his daughter but nothing could stop Sybbie's enthusiasm for the day ahead.

Tugging on his hand that lay on top of the blanket haphazardly covering him she roared, or so it seemed to one having maybe one too many pints the night before, "Daaaadddy!"

Knowing that he was defeated Tom gingerly opened one eye.

"Good you're awake!" Sybil stepped back and clapped.

Noting the little alcove was still cast in deep shadows Tom turned his head towards the dining room windows where the palest of light, hinting of dawn, was just beginning to stream through the lacy curtains creating a mosaic on the oak flooring.

"It's much too early" Tom mumbled, pulling the blanket up to his neck, as he turned to look up at the ceiling.

"Daddy" Sybbie began again although at least this time her voice was in a more normal decibel range. "We have a train to catch."

Her stern tone cause him to look at her and he almost laughed seeing his daughter standing so erect with her hands balled into fists on her hips. "We have plenty of time love. It not even …" his eyes widen as he realized how she was dressed. "You're not wearing trousers to visit the church and your mummy's grave."

"But Daddy" she stomped her right foot. "I can't ride a horse in a dress."

"You'll wear your dress and look nice and pretty for your mummy and the church and then afterwards you'll change into trousers for riding."

"I see someone is very excited" Maeve crowded into the tiny room holding a squirming baby. Tom sighed in relief at seeing his sister, his eyes silently pleading help me.

"I'm going horse riding today with Aunt Mary" Sybbie enthusiastically cried out.

"I do recall you talking about that yesterday" Maeve laughingly replied.

"Well it's not for a midnight ride" Tom grumbled. "The sun is barely up."

Maeve, her eyes glinting with merriment looked from her brother to her niece. "I think someone just might have had a pint too many last night" causing Sybbie to giggle and Tom to snicker. Even 15-month old Liam stopped squirming in his mother's arms and chimed in with a hardy laugh causing Sybbie and Maeve to laugh harder.

"I expect better from you young man" Tom spoke to his godson whose big blue eyes focused on his godfather before breaking out in another hardy laugh causing Sybbie and Maeve to laugh.

"Sybbie why don't you help me get breakfast going" Maeve started "while your father gets dressed. Then after breakfast I'll help you get ready for your trip to Downton." Without waiting for a reply Maeve put her hand on Sybbie's back and guided her towards the kitchen.

"I went with you and your father to Downton …" the rest of Maeve's words were lost as she and Sybbie slipped out of Tom's hearing. Taking a deep breath Tom leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing the sides of his head.

That first year Tom had gone to visit Sybil's grave he was still in the throes of deep mourning, in a pain that he didn't know if he'd ever recover from. Sometimes he'd tell himself she wasn't really gone, he'd imagine she was working at a hospital or out shopping and would soon return with her smile lighting up the room. Seeing that stone tomb with its carved Sybil Cora Branson, 3rd daughter of the Earl of Grantham was the cold reality that no matter how much he dreamed Sybil was gone forever from this life.

He had returned to her grave those following years for the strange sense of comfort it gave him. That in those years he had become friends with her sister was unexpected but he had come to look forward to seeing Mary. Even to him it was an odd friendship for he doubted that if Sybil were alive he and Mary would be such friends. They'd be friendly, if for no other reason than Sybil's sake, but friends … not really.

With his return to Ireland the yearly visits were pretty much out of the question. The two visits he had made coincided with other circumstances that brought him to England, firstly a meeting with his newspaper editor in Manchester and then last year the christening of Maeve's son. He had had no intention of coming this year especially with … how would he describe it … Cora's deceit last year.

Mary sitting at her desk in the estate manager's office, took a sip of tea, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes savoring the deep rich taste of the oolong tea. The one domestic chore she had conquered was the ability to brew a proper cup of tea although she only put this skill to use here in her office. Opening her eyes she glanced around the only room other than her bedroom that was truly hers. Surprising that she'd only learned of this room when one day her father had off-handedly remarked that a book or ledger she wanted could probably be found in Jarvis' old office.

Now if Jarvis were to come back he'd never recognize his office. She'd replaced the large table that dominated the room with a much smaller one that still comfortably seated six. Two green leather wing back chairs now sat opposite her dark oak desk. In the far corner a small round end table placed between two stuffed lounge chairs in a red and gold pattern formed a seating area for more informal chats or where she sometimes sat reading a book hiding away from the world. This room had become not only her office but also her retreat from the world.

She had considered having lunch in here with Tom and the girls but finally decided a picnic out on the estate would be better. There while the girls ran around she and Tom could talk in privacy. Tom … she took a deep breath.

She stood up and walked to one of the windows. A light breeze, cool and scented with the smell of honeysuckle from the bushes that grew along the back wall of the stables, drifted in through the open window and ruffled her hair. Today was a day she always looked forward to, hoping that he'd come here, disappointed those years when he hadn't. This year she knew he was coming here but that knowledge had also brought a certain amount of dread.

"Mary have you heard from Tom? I thought if he and Sybbie come this year we could have luncheon in the garden."

Mary thought it incredulous that her mother would think Tom would agree to such an offer. "And during luncheon would Papa just happen to meander into the garden?"

The blush on Cora's face told Mary she had guessed correctly about Cora's intentions. "Mama I don't think that's very fair to Tom. I think-"

"I don't like seeing this family fractured Mary and Tom and Sybbie are part of this family."

Mary hated the position she was in, finding herself between Tom and her mother, but she was determined not to lose Tom's friendship.

In Mary's childhood the stables at Downton had been bustling with 20 or more horses and a dozen grooms and stable hands. With the motor car replacing horse carriages the number of horses, grooms, and stable hands had slowly dwindled. Mary still enjoyed riding so she kept three horses and in hopes of passing down her passion to her young daughter Caroline there were now two ponies also in the stables.

The garage had once been part of the stables and Tom recalled sometimes standing by the paddock fence watching the graceful animals contentedly chewing grass. Now he stood here watching his daughter petting the ponies much as he had once watched her mother lovingly nuzzle her favorite horse before riding off. He might have secretly hoped that Sybbie's enthusiasm would wane once she was surrounded by the large animals but guided by Mary and her six year old daughter Caroline, Sybbie appeared fearless.

"Daddy look at me!" Sybbie called proudly sitting atop the white and brown pony causing Tom to snap a photograph with his Kodak box camera.

Mary strolled over to Tom, separated from him by the wooden rail fence, and they watched as Caroline, on her pony Dabble, led Sybbie around the paddock. "Are you sure you don't want to join us? Not on a pony of course but I do have other horses."

Keeping his sight on Sybbie Tom replied "I think a pony might suit me better than a horse" causing Mary to laugh. "But I think I'm better suited to drive your truck with our picnic things over to the meadow."

"She's doing well Tom. We'll go slow so it will probably take us about 45 minutes to get to the meadow."

Leaning against the fence, his arms resting on the top rail, Tom watched as Mary led Sybbie and Caroline out of the paddock and out into the field. He stood at the rail long after they were out of sight.

"Do you like horses?" He hadn't heard her approach the fence where he was standing admiring the horses loping in the field. Was that the right word did horses lope?

"They're beautiful animals."

"Yes they are beautiful but that wasn't really what I was asking" Sybil replied.

He turned to look at her. Dressed in a dark blue jacket and a long skirt of matching color, in her hands she held a stiff looking hat and a pair of leather gloves. The dark outfit somehow suited her making her complexion creamy and her eyes sparkling blue and his heart fluttered at the sight of her.

"The only time I was on a horse I was all of six and it threw me off in about ten seconds. It was the end of my riding career."

She laughed that deep laugh of hers, a sound he thought he would never tire of hearing.

"Maybe you could do better now."

"I fear the only horsepower I'm interested now is that in an engine."

"So you'll never know that sensation of the wind hitting your face as you gallop across a field."

"I can stick my head out the motor car window my lady and feel the wind hitting my face."

Another deep laugh.

"Ah you laugh but next time you're in the motor car try it."

The train had been late getting into Downton leaving Tom and Sybbie just a few minutes to spend at Sybil's grave so as not to be late meeting Mary at the stables. Now with some time to waste before he met them for their picnic he decided to spend a few more minutes at the graveyard.

He had only been there a few minutes when someone standing behind him cast a shadow on Sybil's tomb. "I wasn't sure you'd be here Tom."

Tom closed his eyes. He had hoped their paths would not cross on this trip.

"It's nice to see such a colorful bunch of flowers" Cora said as she kneeled to add some peach colored roses to the white and purple peonies Tom and Sybbie had placed there earlier. "Sybil loved flowers. Even as a young girl she was always picking flowers and sticking them in her hair or in vases around the house." Cora fingered a white peony. "She was always so excited to see the first blooms in the spring."

Standing up she looked at him and smiled. "It's nice to see you." Then looking around she said "I'm disappointed Sybbie isn't with you." She held out a small parcel. "I brought her the latest Nancy Drew book. I hope she's still enjoying them."

Tom took the parcel. "It's nice of you to remember. I'm sure she'll enjoy it." His voice was stiff and the smile he gave didn't quite reach his eyes.

They fell into an uncomfortable silence while around the birds chattered in the tall oak tree.

"Sybbie's really enjoyed the photographs of Sybil you sent her. She's also quite observant." Tom looked away. "She recognized Robert as the man who bought her the book for helping him pick out a book for his granddaughter."

"Tom I … I …" Cora wasn't one for confrontation and she wasn't quite sure how to handle this. "Did you explain who he is?"

His reply was harsh "No. I told her it wasn't the same man that they just resembled each other." He tapped his hat against his leg while he ran his other hand through his hair. "It was a bit awkward don't you think? You can imagine what questions she'd have asked. Why didn't he say he was my grandfather? Why haven't I seen him before? Why did Granny Cora act like she didn't know him?" He looked sharply at Cora "I'm disappointed in you."

Cora stiffened her back. "He is her grandfather. He has a right to see her."

"Should I tell Sybbie her mother is lying there in that cold slab because her grandfather had the right to determine her medical care? Should I …" Tom's lips trembled.

Cora looked around the graveyard relieved that no one was too close to hear them but still she was uncomfortable arguing with him here. She stepped closer to him, her voice almost a whisper. "I don't think this is the place to discuss this."

"Where should we discuss this? Should I come up to the house … the house he threw me out of?"

She reached out and touched his arm. "What happened happened and we can't change that. You and Sybbie are part of this family. We must let go of the past."

Tom's sight drifted from Cora to Sybil's grave. Turning his back to Cora he ran his hand back and forth over the etched words Sybil Cora Branson. Cora, ever playing the role of conciliator, waited for him to speak. But when he finally spoke his words stunned her.

Still facing Sybil's tomb he spoke quietly and calmly. "Sybbie knows I was the chauffeur at Downton when I met her mother. I've talked of her mother and how we fell in love. I've taken her to the church where Sybil and I were married and talked of that wonderful day but I never talked about Sybil's heartbreak of her parents refusing to attend. I've never spoken to her of the circumstances of her mother's death of how her grandfather with his fancy pants doctor took away any chance of saving her. Just as I've never talked of the disdain of me her Grandfather could barely conceal and how he didn't bother to try after Sybil died."

He turned to face Cora but her head was tilted downward. In shame or were those flowers so fascinating he wasn't sure. "I won't speak of any of that. If you write her I won't stop her from writing back. But I won't bring her back to Downton. When she is eighteen or so and out of school she can decide if she wants to visit here."

Cora was crushed. She lifted her face, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "Tom you can't-"

But Tom wasn't there to hear her for he had turned and hurried away.

"Daddy!" Sybbie yelled as she spied her father in the distance. His back was to them, standing with one foot on the bottom fence rail, his arms stretched out on the uppermost rail, looking across a field. It was a beautiful view of a gently sloping hill that was cut by a stream with more hills beyond, of sheep with newborn lambs so white against the green field, of trees in their full glory of limbs bursting with fresh green leaves, of stone fences, of shrubs in a riot of colors of spring time blooms. It was a scene of quintessential Yorkshire beauty.

"Daddy" Although they were now only a few yards from Tom he gave no indication he heard Sybbie and Caroline on their ponies with Mary walking between them approaching.

It wasn't until Sybbie's pony nudged Tom's arm that he turned to acknowledgement their presence. He hesitated before his mouth curved into a small smile, broadening as he lifted his daughter out of the saddle. Holding her close, her face against shirt, he ran his hand up and down her back and kissed the top of her head.

"Really Tom" Mary said "she wasn't in any danger." But as she looked closer she realized something was wrong. "Tom are you-"

"I'm fine Mary" he blurted.

"Daddy it was so much fun."

"Was it now" Tom laughed. "You didn't slow Caroline down?"

Vigorously shaking her head no Sybbie looked at Caroline. "Sometimes she had to catch up with me."

"That was a grand feast Mary" Tom comment as he patted his stomach.

Mary looked at the girls, satisfied they were out of earshot. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

Mary shook her head. "Tom I know you well enough by now I can tell you gave a rather forced display of joviality while we ate."

"Hmm" he murmured. Grabbing his loosened tie he said "I'm afraid I've caused you a bit of trouble." She raised her brow in that look he had come to know so well. "After you and the girls left, I drove to the cemetery. Your mother showed up."

"Oh"

"I fear I let my emotions …" he shook his head.

"About Papa?" Mary quietly asked.

He nodded in reply. "Not just about what happened last year but about everything."

Mary let out a deep sigh. She looked over to where her daughter and Sybbie were joyfully playing. "She'll know Sybbie was here today. Caroline will tell her at tea what an exciting day she had riding and picnicking with her cousin Sybbie."

Then reaching out her hand she touched grasped his arm. "Don't worry about me. I'm tough."

Tom, stretched out on the blanket, leaned back on his elbows. Sybbie and Caroline, holding nets almost as tall as Caroline, were chasing butterflies, their shrieks of laughter filling the air. "They seem to be getting along quite well."

"Does that surprise you" Mary asked.

"Somehow I didn't quite picture a daughter of yours running around barefoot, tumbling on the ground, shouting at flying bugs" he teasingly replied.

"You thought she'd only play with porcelain dolls and china tea sets?"

Tom looked over at Mary and smiled. "Something like that."

Mary looked towards her daughter and smiled. "It might surprise you but I did occasionally get my dress dirty." Hearing Tom snicker, she laughed. "Okay it might have been once or twice and it was Edith's fault."

Mary's face suddenly turned serious. "I don't want Caroline to have the childhood I had. At least I want her to … run barefoot in the grass, to play in mud puddles, to not have every moment structured and to feel like she always has to be prim and proper. I want her to be a child." She turned and looked at Tom. "I guess that sounds like a normal childhood to you."

Tom nodded. "No one would ever accuse the Branson boys, or girls, of being prim and proper."

"Well maybe I don't want her to be that bad." Mary laughed. "But I want her to enjoy her childhood."

"Sybbie goes to school" it wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact and Tom nodded his head. Mary continued "and she has other little girls and maybe even some boys, to play with after school."

"Aye."

"And that all seems so normal to you but it's not how Sybil and Edith and I were raised."

"So what's brought this on?" Tom asked.

Mary didn't answer right away, instead watching Caroline and Sybbie as they were now trying to catch each other with their butterfly nets. Tom, having come to know her so well, knew she would answer when she was ready. "I think most of my life I thought of other women as competition and I wanted to be the prettiest one in the room, the one most sought after by men and as for men" she paused. "I wanted them to desire me even if I had no real interest in them." She turned towards Tom "that doesn't make for friendships." She brushed some invisible crumbs off her dress. "I've come to realize you're my only real friend."

He almost made some quip like should I be so honored but he quickly realize how serious she was. "What about Henry?"

"You know how you told me how you would talk with Aoibhinn in the shop and that one day you realized how much you enjoyed her company well that wasn't like it with Henry and me. I mean we didn't talk of world events or family matters, or books or whatever it is friends talk about. Our talk was more akin to bantering, he pursued me and I was flattered but we were never really friends."

"We haven't called it quits yet. But I don't know if either of us really has the desire to keep going. His major concern is his business and for me" she shrugged "I'm coming to terms with the thought that I want something different than what I have with Henry."

"Mama you should have brought ice cream" Caroline, her face covered with biscuit crumbs, announced. Although she had Mary's dark hair and eyes somehow Tom thought the little girl resembled Cora.

"If I had brought ice cream it would be liquid by now" Mary answered.

"I bet it still would have been good" Sybbie chimed in. "Maybe we could stop for some before we get the train."

"I think you've had quite enough to eat for lunch and Aunt Maeve is fixing dinner for us. We'll be waddling onto the ferry tonight. I just hope we don't cause it to sink."

"Oh Daddy" Sybbie clipped her father's arm.

"Why don't you go say goodbye to Dribble and Bibble."

Sybbie rolled her eyes. "It's Drabble and Babble."

After the girls ran to the two ponies which were placidly grazing on a patch of grass, Tom stood up. "I only came here this year because Sybbie was so excited about riding. She's talked about it ever since we came last year. It didn't help you sending that book Black Beauty."

"She'll probably pester me all the way home about getting a pony. As if we have a place for one." Tom shook his head. "Sometimes I'm afraid that with the boys now I don't give her enough attention."

"She was your sole focus for so long Tom. But it's obvious she loves Aoibhinn and the boys so you, and Aoibhinin, are doing something right."

"You know you and Caroline and George could visit us in Ireland during the summer when the children are out of school. We don't have ponies but they'd have fun playing on the sandy beach and although I think the sea is always cold somehow children don't seem to mind that." He smiled warmly at Mary. "I'd introduce you to fish and chips wrapped in newspaper and we'd eat them sitting on pier something that absolutely delighted Sybil. And for Caroline there's plenty of ice cream shops."

"That does sound rather fun although I'm not sure about eating fish out of newspapers."

"You've led a sheltered life Lady Mary and didn't you say you wanted something different for your daughter."

"Somehow I wasn't quite envisioning that."

Tom laughed. "you'd get to meet Aoibhinin. You could probably use a holiday Mary."

"I'll seriously consider it Tom."

"Are you sure you don't mind me driving the truck to the railway station?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I did Tom. I think it would be for the best. I can send Stokes to the station to retrieve it."

"You mean no chance of our running into anyone closer to the house or the stables."

Quirking her brow and slightly nodding her head was Mary's reply.

"Actually I may have a far worse task telling Sybbie she's not riding Dribble back to the stables."

"It's Drabble" Mary laughed. "And you may be quite right about that."

Mary wasn't sure which of them cling tighter to the other as she and Sybbie hug goodbye. "Oh Aunt Mary thank you for such a wonderful day. I'll send you some photographs."

"Since your father must have taken about 50 photographs you'll have plenty to choose from" Mary laughingly replied as she smoothed Sybbie's hair.

Sybbie kissed Mary's cheek once more before darting off to the truck. Leaning out of the window Tom called to Mary "think about Ireland" and Mary nodded her head as the truck slowly moved away with Sybbie's face out her window and her arm waving wildly.

As Mary picked up the Drabble's reins and started to lead him back down the path towards home she reached over and rubbed her hand on Caroline's pony's shoulder. Looking up at her daughter, sitting so properly atop the pony, she said "what if you and George and I take a vacation to the seaside this summer?"

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