May 1945

The house was quiet enough that here in the library Mary could hear the chimes of the Grandfather clock in the grand salon as it struck nine. In a sign that summer was approaching, outside the library window the evening sun had faded leaving that dusky gray light of not quite night while the trees and bushes appeared as dark shapes. Mary raised the sherry decanter as if to refill her glass before changing her mind and quickly setting it back down on the drinks cabinet. She looked around the room as if looking for something or maybe someone then deciding that maybe a walk would ease her uncomfortable feeling of restlessness.

As she stepped outside Mary belted the jumper she had donned in the entrance hall to ward off the night chill. She hesitated on the gravel drive wondering which way she should walk before deciding she'd just amble down the drive towards the stone pillars that flanked the entrance gate. She was almost there when she noticed a figure stridently walking towards her causing her to halt. In a sign of the times her first thought was that it must be one of the military men who were now billeted in the Abbey returning from an evening at the Grantham Arms or perhaps having just arrived back to the village on the last train of the evening.

"I hoped it wasn't too late to be calling" the figure called out and relief washed over her as she realized it was Ashley.

She stood still waiting for him to catch up to her and as he did so he asked "So whatever has you out here at this time of night?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Restlessness maybe." It was only then that she noticed he was in his dress uniform. She felt an immediate stab of panic. Her voice barely audible she murmured "George?"

Frowning he started to ask what but seeing her obvious distress he immediately reached out to take hold of her hands. "No of course not. As far as I know George is fine." Still holding her hands he continued "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you such a fright. I've been in London all day and … it's over Mary." His voice was soft and for a moment she wasn't sure what he was talking about. "At least here … in Europe. Tomorrow morning Churchill will …"

"Over!" she stepped back for a moment, her eyes searching his face. "It really is over?" she repeated as if not quite sure of what she was hearing.

He nodded his head as he smiled broadly and to his surprise she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly while still whispering "it's over."

Mary woke to sun streaming in through a wide gap in her bedroom drapes. Barely rising to a sitting position, she cupped her hand across her forehead as if shielding her eyes from the unexpected sunlight then turned her head slightly to look at the clock on her bedside table. Her eyes widened in surprise. Just going on seven! Another sure sign that summer was almost here.

Not bothering to put on the robe that lay across the bottom of her bed she walked to the window and pulled the drape back. The glorious sunny morning somehow seemed so fitting for today. The war was finally over! She thought the sky had never looked bluer, the leaves that filled the trees never greener or the patch of lawn brighter. She opened the window, letting a soft warm breeze into the room that gently ruffled her sleep tossed hair and filled the room with the sweet scent of honeysuckle.

It was only later sitting alone in the empty dining room savoring her second cup of coffee that she began thinking of the implications of the end of the war on Downton and herself.

The normally quiet village was alive with seemingly every man, woman, and child who lived in the village as well as the surrounding farms filling not only the village green but the streets branching off it. The crowd was by no means orderly but rather a boisterous group, backslapping and hugging and dancing, their peals of laughter and gleeful singing accompanying the horns and strings of an impromptu band which at times competed with the ringing church bells.

That morning every wireless in the village, indeed the entire nation, had been tuned to Winston Churchill's announcement that German forces had signed the formal act of military surrender and his declaration that the day was to be an official day of rejoicing. Like the million that celebrated in London and the thousands in villages throughout the country, the villagers of Downton joined in celebrating this long awaited victory.

The sounds of village celebration could be heard even up at the Abbey where Thomas in his role of butler approached Mary who, along with her mother and Isobel, were sitting in the library still listening to the radio.

"Your ladyship" he began but he didn't need to finish for Mary sensed what he was going to ask.

"Today's a remarkable day Thomas. Why don't you and the staff take a bit of time and join in the village celebrations."

Cora and Isobel were much too … Mary hated to use the word feeble and too old didn't quite sound right either but certainly the two women were better celebrating here in the library with their glasses of sherry and listening to the wireless. Mary didn't think of herself as too old or feeble but the thought of being backslapped or hugged or horror of horrors being kissed if even only on the cheek by villagers with whom she only had a passing acquaintance was certainly of no interest to her not even in this time of national celebration.

After the past few days of sunshine, the morning had dawned dark, full of ominous clouds that soon released a drenching rain that slashed at the windows. By mid-morning sunlight began filtering through the clouds and now as Mary stood at the library window the only remnants of the morning rain were puddles here and there and the still wet leaves glistening in the sunshine. She thought that by the time Tom arrived in early afternoon there would be no signs of the morning's downpour.

As was his duty as butler Thomas answered the knock on the front door finding to his utmost surprise the former chauffeur. Although looking rather sharp in his dark gray belted raincoat and gray cap Thomas thought the man still had that smug look that had set him apart in the old days when he had driven a motor car for a living.

"Ah the journalist" Thomas remarked with barely concealed disdain.

"Ah the new Carson" Tom answered with a gleam in his eye and a hint of merriment in his voice. "So you've gotten what you always wanted."

Then added in a bit of mischievousness "although I hear the staff isn't nearly as large now."

While Thomas tried thinking of some snide retort Tom took off his hat and, without waiting for Thomas's approval, stepped into the entrance hall. "I do believe Mary is expecting me."

"Is she?" Thomas might have been trying to sound and act like Carson but Tom thought he didn't have the old butler's bulk or heft and instead came across as resentful rather than haughty. "I don't believe Lady Mary made any mention of you arriving here today.

Undeterred Tom asked "Has she already gone to the graveyard?"

"Graveyard?" Frowning in puzzlement as to why the former chauffeur expected Lady Mary to be at the graveyard Thomas unthinkingly uttered "Lady Mary is in the library."

Tom nodded his head. "I can see myself there" then, without waiting for Thomas, made for the library door only to find Thomas practically running to get there before him.

"Mr. Branson" Thomas announced from the doorway causing Mary to turn around as he watched in a combination of horror and confusion as Lady Mary, her face breaking into a wide smile rushed into the arms of her former brother-in-law.

"I'm surprised that-"

Tom didn't wait for her to finish. "With this morning's weather I thought I didn't really need to hang around in London so I decided to take an earlier train.

"Well it's wonderful to see you!" Mary exclaimed before realizing Thomas was still in the room carefully watching them. "Would you care for tea or something to eat Tom?"

After Tom replied he didn't Mary turned to Thomas. "Thomas will you see that the picnic baskets are loaded in the cart."

She waited until Thomas had gone before emitting a chuckle. "I see he's still not a fan of yours."

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Well he has what he's always wanted but I'm not sure it's made him any happier."

Mary tilted her head and slight shrug of her shoulders. "He's not quite as sneaky or underhanded now that he's the butler. He's not Carson but he is rather good at the job." She didn't add that the staff was so small these days Carson would be appalled. But there had been those years money was so tight and they just couldn't afford to retain so much staff. Now although more financially secure it seemed foolish to spend money on footmen and ladies maids and a myriad of staff performing arcane tasks.

"High praise indeed since I'm sure no one can match Carson in your opinion" countered Tom.

Even though it had been years ago that Carson had left she still felt the loss of his presence. Since she was a little girl the big man had always been a source of comfort to her. "Like Sybil" she turned towards the window to hide her suddenly misty eyes "Carson always saw the good in me even when I didn't deserve it." She ran her hand across her forehead then with a small smile turned back to face Tom.

"After all these years I tired of thinking we'd ever meet again in person" she said. "You're looking well" she raised her brow as she noticed his rather casual look with his wide-cut trousers and loose fitting light blue shirt with no tie.

He laughed as he looked down at himself. "Surely your fashion magazines must have some articles in the latest looks for the stylish man."

Chuckling she reminded him that these days her reading materials concerned diversification in agriculture, crop rotation, improvements in agricultural machinery.

"Surely there must be a few articles on what the well-dressed farmer is wearing or the lowly journalist."

She couldn't help but laugh at his words. "Oh it feels good to laugh."

"It does" he gleefully replied. "On the ferry over here you could see the relief in everyone's eyes and it seemed as if it was this big party that lasted the entire crossing."

"It was like that here the day of Churchill's announcement and maybe a day or so after but now it seems as if the enormity of what's happened is just sinking in. So much death and destruction."

Tom nodded his head. "I think that's how it was in London. I wasn't prepared for … well you can't walk far without seeing the destruction … whole blocks of buildings gone or piles of rubble. I've read stories of it of course but until you see it you can't imagine the enormity of it."

"You might remember I wrote about some articles I did for American newspapers. Well one of them was about ten men, Irish who immigrated to America or their parents did, who came to Northern Ireland as American soldiers. I've been doing follow up articles with them these past two years … meeting a couple of them still in Ireland or corresponding by mail with the others. Two died in France and one in an accident in Ireland. On this trip to London I interviewed one who's in a hospital there and saw another one who had his leg amputated six months ago and is waiting for transport home to America. It's brought the war home to me in a way I hadn't known."

Mary nodded her in head. "I was so relieved when this war started that George was at university and exempt from conscription. Then last year after he graduated … I thought … well I remember Matthew and of course poor William and I've hardly had a good night's sleep since."

"Where is George these days?" he asked.

"He's still in Scotland involved in super secret work that he can't talk about but I'm just thankful he's not at the front."

Tom nodded. "I'm glad he's safe."

She offered a slight smile. "Well now I just have to hope Japan surrenders soon."

"Aye" Tom replied. "I doubt they can last much longer."

They both became silent, lost in their own thoughts.

Mary stood. "So are you ready? You've surprised me actually coming here to the house."

With no taxi at the railway station, not a surprise in these days of petrol rationing, Tom had left his suitcase at the station and started walking towards the Abbey. When the house had become visible, rising majestically from the ground, the stone building looking cold and forbidding, he felt his heartbeat quicken and a sense of apprehension which had only grown as he approached the Abbey's imposing front doors. He had stared at those tall wooden doors with their unwelcoming wolf-head knockers and thought of how he'd once vowed to never enter those doors again.

"I guess it's been enough years" he finally said. "And with-" he stopped speaking as the library door opened and Thomas entered the library and announced everything was ready.

Tom raised his brow in mock surprise when he and Mary excited the house to find a horse cart waiting. "Last time I was here you were driving the latest Humber. I was envious of such a fine motor car."

"Well now I've gotten something with real horsepower" Mary retorted to which Tom laughed.

"And is he Dribble or Bibble?" Tom teased.

"I see you still don't know much about equines. This" Mary lovingly patted the dark chestnut "is a horse not a pony." Then looking at Tom said "Babble is no longer with us but Drabble is. If you'd prefer to ride him to the graveyard I can arrange that."

Tom laughed. "The horse cart is fine but I'll be sure and let Sybbie know that Babble"

"Bibble" Mary laughingly interrupted.

An amused Tom looked up towards the heavens. "BIBBLE" pointedly emphasizing the pony's name "is still here."

Giving Tom some time alone at Sybil's grave, Mary took the rest of the flowers to spread among the other Crawley graves as well as that of Lord Merton. Before leaving Matthew's grave her hand tightly squeezed the edge of the tall tombstone. "The war's over Matthew and hopefully George will be home soon."

When Tom was ready to meet Mary he wasn't surprised where he found her. The newness of the grave was evidence by the still faintly visible outline in the ground and a small bronze plaque that Tom guessed would be replaced by an elaborate tombstone as befitting the Earl of Grantham.

"You think we'd be used to this by now … all the people we've lost."

Mary wiped away a tear and took a deep breath as Tom put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned against his chest.

"It was all so sudden" she said "he came back from his usual morning walk and told Thomas he was a bit tired and thought it must be the cold weather. When Thomas brought him his tea in the library he thought Papa was just sleeping."

To Tom's surprise Mary suddenly chuckled. "I think this last year his greatest joy has been Sybbie."

A puzzled Tom blurted "Sybbie?"

"They've been corresponding quite regularly since Sybbie went to work for the Americans. He found her stories of the Americans quite amusing." Mary pulled away from Tom. "Not that she wrote about her work or anything secret of course but about the American's language, customs, strange habits. He found it all quite amusing."

Tom tapped his hat against his leg. "I fear some of the language she's picking up."

Mary laughed. "Oh nothing like that Tom. Just things like" she stopped as if trying to recall. "Big wheel for someone in authority or penguin for someone in the Air Force who doesn't fly."

"She had amusing stories of how the Americans didn't understand her such as when she told someone the loo was down the hall. But then apparently she had trouble understanding some of them, not so much because of their words but their accents. She'd spell out how especially those from places like Alabama or Georgia would pronounce something. Papa found in all quite amusing."

Although Tom had chuckled as Mary tried to imitate some of the things Sybbie had written she wasn't quite what he thought of the pair becoming so close. "I think he saw in her letters so much of Sybil. Sybil always had this knack for amusing Papa with silly things she'd say or things that she found humorous."

"She was his favorite you know … Sybil" Mary quietly stated.

"She was an easy person to love" Tom blurted without thinking. Then turning to face Mary he stammered "I don't mean … I shouldn't have …"

Mary laid her hand on his arm. "It alright Tom. She was. She certainly wasn't nearly as prickly as Edith or myself. I know I'm not the easiest of persons and Edith … well … she's even worse."

Tom couldn't help but chuckle. "You've mellowed a lot Mary but when it comes to Edith you-"

"Edith is happily married and living up north and I'm quite glad for her."

"You need to say that with a bit more conviction and less sarcasm."

"Really I thought it was quite good. I've certainly had enough practice saying it."

Tom leaned back against the oak tree whose branches offered shade from the surprisingly warm sun. The remains of their picnic lunch were scattered on the blanket. "Ashley" Tom said.

"Ashely?" Mary repeated the name as if hearing it for the first time.

"Mary you've skirted around the issue all through lunch."

"I have no idea what you are talking about Tom."

"I'm talking about the man who has taken up paragraphs of your letters these past couple of years."

Mary could feel her face redden. "Well he has practically taken over the estate and-"

"I'm not talking about the estate" Tom cut in.

Mary, her spine stiffening, sat up straighter. "Has it been that obvious?"

Tom laughed. "So now that the war is over-"

"That's just it Tom. The war is over but" she stood up and walked over to the fence rail. The ground on the other side of the fence gently sloped downward towards a small pond. Tom got up and joined her. Looking at the meadow dotted here and there with clumps of wildflowers suddenly remembering this was where they had once picnicked with Sybbie and Caroline. "He'll still be here for a few months as he winds things down but then" she took a deep breath "then I'm just not sure.

"Before the war I was busy with the estate and the children. I socialized with people mainly from the children's schools and Caroline's horse shows. But all that ended with the war. Although I wasn't exactly alone, Mama and Papa and Isobel were living in the house, but George and Caroline were at away school and I found myself" she shrugged her shoulders "wanting more stimulating conversations at the dining table. What I really was was lonely."

"And he filled that void that was in your life?"

She turned her face away once again looking out at the field. She knew Tom was right Ashley had filled that void. There had been long dinners and drinks in the library afterwards, evenings spent in the gardens, long walks or horse rides around the estate, times when talked not just of estate matters or the war but of their lives, their interests. She had often found herself in awe of him for the adventures he had had.

"He does" she quickly answered. "He's not at all what I would think a career military man was like. He has so many interests and is so knowledgeable and I feel like I've learned so much from him. He was stationed for years in India and then the Far East. But actually we have a lot in common too. Funny thing is that I actually knew his late wife, she was the daughter of the Earl of Hanford and we ran around a bit in the same circles although she was a year older than me."

Tom raised his brow in curiosity. "So he's accustomed to you aristocrats?"

"He is an aristocrat. His father was a Baron."

Tom laughed. "I might have known he wasn't the son of a bricklayer or a blacksmith."

Ignoring his last comment she continued. "What if it's just my loneliness that's made me-" she looked at him. "I can't make another mistake Tom."

"Mary you've spent a lot of time with him these past couple of years much more time than you spent with Henry before marrying him. You've spent time not just in idle talk but on estate matters. I'd venture to say you know him a lot better than you knew Henry when you married him."

"I'm not really sure why we're having this conversation Tom. It's not like he's asked me to marry him.

"But you've thought about it?"

"I've thought about a lot of things Tom. Like what are those army men who've made the ballroom their headquarters really doing? Like how many different ways there are to serve fish or for that matter how types of fish are there around here. Like do I look better in maroon or crimson. Like-"

He held up his hand "okay okay." Then chuckling said "actually I'm rather impressed you're doing so much thinking" to which Mary playfully nudged him. "Although it's not much deep thinking" which earned him another nudge.

"Oh I've missed you Tom. I love the way we can banter."

"Do you enjoy his company?"

"That was certainly a quick change."

"No seriously Mary do you enjoy this Ashley's company?"

"Of course I do."

"Then maybe you shouldn't worry about why you enjoy his company. Just enjoy it. And if he asks you to marry him don't think about the reasons why you shouldn't but rather why you should."

"I went through a bit of doubt when I was considering whether to even ask Aoibhinn to marry me. It seemed as if I was thinking of, or maybe creating, reasons not to. But then I thought will my life be fuller and richer with her in it? And I knew then the answer was yes."

She looked as if she was seriously considering what he had just said.

"Oh and Mary one more bit of advice … maroon."

"Maroon?"

"Much better than crimson." Not that he'd admit he had absolutely no idea of the difference between the two.