May 1969
Mary bolted awake as if someone or something had rudely disturbed her sleep. Raising her head from her pillows she slowly looked around the bedroom but in the dim light saw nothing that would have caused her to waken so abruptly. Ashley, lying beside her, was still asleep with his chest gently rising and falling with his breaths. Maybe it had been a dream she thought although she couldn't recall dreaming. Her head fell back against the pillows and she'd just closed her eyes when the sharp crack of lightening pierced the silence quickly followed by the fierce pelting of rain against the bedroom windows.
After an afternoon of dark ominous clouds and strong winds the storm wasn't surprising. Mary struggled to get back to sleep but this was not the gentle rain that lulled one to sleep and after a few minutes she tossed aside the bedcovers. As she stood up she reached for her silk robe lying across the bottom of the bed. Draping the luxurious robe around her, she looked enviously at her husband still sleeping undisturbed by the storm. Despite the thick carpet feeling warm under her bare feet she stepped into her backless slippers and softly padded across the bedroom and into their adjoining sitting room.
The thunder faded to far-away rumbles but some flashes of the accompanying lightening intermittently lit up the sitting room. The heavy drapes hadn't been pulled closed and Mary pressed her hand against one of the panes of the tall French windows.
Mary woke to the sound of rain pelting against the bedroom window. She glanced at the small clock on the bedside table surprised to find it was only half pass six, far too early to rise for the ceremony wasn't till eleven. The ceremony … Mary sighed heavily at the thought of her beloved sister marrying the chauffeur. The previous evening had passed pleasantly with the three sisters amicably recalling childhood adventures but Mary couldn't help thinking the unaccustomed conviviality masked what each of them were really thinking. She lay there listening to the rain. Maybe Sybil would take this as a sign … but Mary shook her head then sighed once again thinking that she'd have to get through this day with a fake smile plastered on her face.
Giving up on any further sleep Mary plodded out to the sitting room of their suite at the Shelbourne where much to her surprise she found Sybil standing in front of one of the large windows that overlooked St. Stephen's Green. Not that one could actually see the lovely park through the rain pelting against the window. Mary watched as Sybil's index finger traced one of the raindrops as it rolled down the glass pane. It was something that Sybil had done since she was a young girl and Mary imagined the young Sybil seated in one of the window seats with her bare feet on the cushion, her knees pulled up, and her unruly dark hair pulled back and tied with a ribbon, her focus on her finger following the cascading trail of a raindrop.
"Sybil dear" Mary softly spoke but before she could finish her intended words Sybil, her finger still tracing raindrops, interrupted her. "This rain will make the air smell fresh and the moisture on those lilac bushes just outside the church will glisten like diamonds in the sunshine."
She turned around to face her sister. "Maybe we'll even have a rainbow" Sybil giggled. "Whatever the weather Mary it will be a beautiful day."
"Mary whatever are you doing up at this hour" Ashley's voice woke Mary from her thoughts.
Mary turned her head and smiled at her husband. "Unlike you that horrible thunder woke me."
As if just realizing it was raining Ashley looked at the window. "Thunder?"
Mary chuckled at his obliviousness to the storm. "I think the worst of it has moved on but the rain is still heavy."
"I hope it's over before Sybbie gets here" Ashley replied. "It is tomorrow" he glanced at the clock on the side table "well today actually I guess that she's-" he paused. Then looking intently at Mary he continued "you were deep in thought about that day."
Mary nodded her head. She looked back at the window and once again ran her finger across one of the window panes. "It rained like this that day." She closed her eyes and once again saw Sybil standing at that window her hand tracing the rain drops.
Sybbie was glad she had listened to the weather reports and had taken the afternoon crossing rather than the evening crossing for the Irish Sea could be turbulent even on sunny days and with the storms predicted for that night. So it was that she was comfortably seated in her Aunt Maeve's warm and cozy Liverpool sitting room when the storm began that evening. Aunt Maeve had been like a mother to Sybbie during her earliest year and in the years since Sybbie always felt at home at Maeve's. Her cousins Orla and Aideen had joined them for a delightful time of good food, conversation and laughter. After Orla and Aideen left, Sybbie and Maeve remained in the sitting room talking far into the night with the storm raging neither seemed to want to retire to bed.
"Hard to imagine that it's been fifty years" Maeve exclaimed. "I can still see that day so well … maybe because … what happened" she paused as she looked down at her lap. She took a sharp breath before looking at Sybbie. "Your parents looked so happy that day. Tommy was just bursting with joy and Sybil … Sybil was so radiant."
Maeve smiled at the memory. "We, that is me and Sybil and Siobhan had spent so much time picking flowers and making bouquets and ribbon bows for the church. The church looked so lovely."
Sybbie nodded her head. "Daddy always said that. After we moved back to Ireland on the years he didn't go to Downton we'd go to the church to light a candle and he'd talk about that day. The last time we went there ... that last anniversary … just months before he" Sybbie swallowed hard before continuing "the church looked so worn down. The way he looked around I could tell it really bothered him seeing it like that. So after he died I paid for new carpets and cleaning the stained glass windows in his and Mummy's memory."
"What a wonderful gesture Sybbie." Maeve leaned over and patted Sybbie's hand. "I'm sure he'd … they'd be pleased with that."
Sybbie smiled weakly. "Well if I'm going to take an early train to Downton I guess I better get to bed" but she made no move to rise from her chair and the two continued talking far into the night.
The downpours of the night had slackened to a drizzle as the train left Manchester. Sybbie bought a tea from the attendant pushing the cart along the train's corridor. Alone in this first class compartment she settled back into her seat and for a few minutes enjoyed the passing English countryside. She had made this trip many times but this was the first time she had done it alone and she felt a stab of sorrow. For a moment she wished she had taken her husband's offer to come with her but she knew this was something she had to do alone.
Think of those happy times she told herself … of picnics by the lake, of that time she'd ridden a horse with her cousin Caroline (something Aunt Maeve had reminded her of). "I remember" Maeve had said "one time you were so excited to be going there for you were going to ride a horse. You woke us up before dawn much to your father's dismay."
She was glad to have the compartment to herself. Opening her tote bag she took out the wooden box, a simple box with no ornate carving or decoration, and laid it on the seat beside her. Before opening it she gently rubbed her fingers across the lid remembering when her father had given her the box not long before he died. "I've been cleaning and clearing out some drawers and I found this in the back of my closet. I …" he paused as he fingered the box. "I had forgotten I had this." He lifted the lid and looked down at it but didn't remove any thing. "After Sybil and I fled to Downton, Ma and my sisters cleared out our flat and found this box. I hadn't known about it but apparently Sybil saved little remembrances from our time together in Ireland."
Sybbie lifted the lid and pulled out the dried flowers wrapped with white and green ribbons that had been part of her mother's wedding bouquet. She sifted through the box, once more touching the playbill from the Abbey Theater; the unused postcards, one from a hotel in Howth, the other a hotel in Galway; a ticket stub from a Dublin cinema; a downy feather; a birthday card from her father; a tiny string angel; two swatches of fabric; a tiny sea shell and other little bits and pieces that her mother must have thought represented her new life in Dublin. Her father didn't tell her the stories as to why her mother had kept those particular things. Tears welled in Sybbie's eyes as she closed the lid on the box, somehow the things in this box made her mother seem more real than the numerous stories she had heard over the years.
He had said he couldn't bring himself to throw away the box and the mementos it contained and neither could Sybbie but she had thought of something meaningful to do with it.
The rain had disappeared by the time Mary stood in front of Sybil's grave. It had departed leaving an unexpected sky of deep blue with nary a cloud and a bright sun. Yet despite that brightness Mary hugged her coat around her, it seemed these days she was always cold. The ground was riddled with puddles which glistened in the bright sunlight as did the leaves and flowers and none sparkled more than more than the deep green leaves and small dark purple lilac blooms of the bush that, at Sybbie's request, Billy had planted next to the Sybil's grave.
Mary was so deep in thought as she remembered that long ago day she didn't hear Sybbie's footsteps on the stone path and so wasn't aware of her niece's presence until Sybbie was standing beside her. "I was afraid we'd be standing here in pouring rain" Sybbie announced her presence.
Mary tilted her head to look at her niece, always jolted by how much Sybbie looked like her mother, even now though Sybbie was twice the age Sybil was when she died. Taking in Sybbie's black trousers, high-collared silk pale pink blouse and a long cashmere dark pink jumper she looked modern and Mary imagined it was an outfit Sybil would wear rather than the dowdy tweed skirt and dark green jacket Mary herself was wearing. "There have been times your father and I stood here in the rain but after a stormy night this morning became sunny just like it did on their wedding day" Mary said as she leaned in to kiss her beloved niece's cheek.
"How wonderful to see you" Sybbie replied. As they hugged Sybbie thought for the first time how old her aunt looked.
Mary looked wistfully at Sybil's grave. "So hard to believe it was 50 years ago. I can still see it so clearly, your father looking handsome" (she wouldn't say in that cheap suit) "and your mother as beautiful as I ever saw her. Both just radiating such joy." She wouldn't say although my heart was breaking at the thought that Sybil deserved so much better.
Sybbie reached out her hand to touch the stone which was cold and damp. "I think of him often" Mary softly said. Sybbie, her eyes tearful, turned her face towards her aunt. "I-"
"Glad to catch you still here" Billy interrupted whatever Sybbie was going to say. Before doffing his hat at Mary while saying "your ladyship" he set a silver container on the ground.
"Good to see you cousin" he said enveloping Sybbie in a hug. "Not the best weather for crossing the Irish sea."
"Luckily I came over yesterday afternoon so it wasn't too bad" Sybbie replied. "You brought the silver box I see."
"Aye. It's too wet to bury it today but I wanted to make sure it's what you wanted and you can show me exactly where you want it."
Sybbie reached into her tote bag and pulled out the wooden box. "This is what will go in it." Noticing Mary's arched brow Sybbie said "it's a box of little remembrances from my parents' year in Dublin. I thought it would be nice to bury it here so there's a little bit of Daddy here with her."
"A treasure box." Mary's voice was barely above a whisper.
Sybbie shook her head. "There's nothing of value. Just some postcards and ticket stubs and-"
Mary's face lit up in a smile. "No I don't mean that kind of treasure. I mean" she laughed "as a little girl Sybil had this box that she'd fill with what she called her treasures. I'm not really sure what" Mary shrugged her shoulders "since she'd never let me or Edith look in the box." Mary laughed "in fact she'd hide the box and we could never find it but she'd show us a colorful rock or a pearl button she found in the dirt or one time a tacky bracelet she'd won at the county fair."
"Treasure box … I like that." Sybbie looked down at the box "The things in here meant something to her but whatever they meant was only known to her and my father."
They walked out of the somberness of the cemetery and into the village square and the clatter of everyday life; a couple of women paused in their morning shopping chatting away, a little girl tugging at her harried mother's skirt while waiting for the bus as was an elderly man with a small battered suitcase sitting on a bench, a boy on a bicycle rapidly pedaling across the green as if late, the rumbling of a passing lorry.
Parked in front of Crawley House was the motor car that Billy had left for them. "They all think I'm too old to walk home" Mary huffily said. Sybbie softly chuckled as she noted that Mary went towards the passenger door. But as Mary put her hand on the door handle she saw that instead of walking towards the driver's door Sybbie stood looking back at the cemetery. "If you need some more time I can wait" Mary said.
"It seems so odd to come here without him." Sybbie spoke so softly Mary needed to stand beside her to hear. "All those years Daddy tried to … to … make her seem-" Sybbie shrugged her shoulders. "On the years we didn't come here we'd visit the church where they married and then go to this tea shop. One year during the war he took me to see where they had lived and then we went to get fish and chips." Sybbie, with a sly smile, glanced at Mary "said she'd never had fish and chips before coming to Dublin."
Mary laughed. "One of Dublin's culinary delights."
Sybbie joined Mary in laughing before once again looking somber she turned back to face the graveyard. "Despite all the stories from Daddy and Grandma, you and Grandma Cora, she never really seemed real to me but when I looked at those things in that box … her treasure box as you called it … somehow the things in that box made her come alive."
As Sybbie drove the motor car up the gravel drive Mary said "George says you're going to America on holiday this year."
Sybbie nodded. "You know that Valerie's husband Michael has been based with Pan Am in San Francisco for almost two years now but Valerie says they've explored that area enough and they've decided to come back to Europe. He can bid for a new route in the fall so they're not sure exactly where they'll end up but thinking about Amsterdam."
"Tom always said Valerie was his child with wanderlust" Mary said.
Sybbie chuckled. "That's for sure. We thought she'd settle down if she got married but then she marries a Pan Am pilot and they travel around the world." She stopped the motor car at the spot where the Abbey first comes into view. "Always an amazing sight. Can't believe I was born there."
"But to get back to our holiday … Liam isn't teaching a summer class this year which gives us a bit more time for holiday and Mum suggested we go with her to visit Valerie. It will be our first time seeing her baby."
"She sent some pictures with her Christmas card" Mary said. "He looks adorable. How is Aoibhinn doing?"
"Fine" Sybbie replied. "That first year after Daddy died it was hard for her, hard for all of us really. I think moving into the city last year was good for her. We meet once a week for lunch since she's so close to my house and to Trinity where I do so much of my research. And the first Sunday of every month she has everyone over for Sunday lunch. She's keeping quite busy actually with her gardening and garden club and-"
"I know" Mary interrupted. "She's sent pictures of her garden to Ash and Dina and I think they're always writing back and forth about new plants and soil and whatever" Mary gave a dismissive wave of her hand which caused Sybbie to laugh.
"She's also gotten involved with a local theater group not acting mind you but behind the scenes stuff like painting backdrops and sewing costumes.
"What no butler awaiting our arrival" Sybbie teased as Mary opened one of the Abbey's wooden doors.
Mary laughed. "I'm afraid the days of Carson or even Barrow mysteriously knowing exactly when someone is arriving are long gone. I sometimes find myself waiting at the door before realizing I have to open it myself. Of course Hanes will usually be here if he knows when someone is arriving."
They walked into the stiff and formal entry foyer with its marble arches and busy patterned tiled floor that always made Sybbie think she was entering a museum rather than someone's home. But as the paired near the doorway to the dining room children's laughter could be heard.
"George is in London today and Dina is in Manchester meeting a possible new client for our gardening business. Both are disappointed not to see you. But there is someone else here looking forward to seeing you."
"Caroline!" Sybbie's enthusiasm was equally greeted by Caroline's. "Sybil!"
"It's so wonderful to see you" both chimed as the hugged. The last time they'd met was at Tom's funeral but they really hadn't had the chance to talk much then.
Also standing to greet Sybbie was Ashley. "Always a pleasure to see you" he said as they hugged.
"These are my daughters" Caroline nodded towards the table where three little girls were sitting. "Nicola is the older one and-"
"I'm five" interrupted a pretty dark-haired girl who resembled Caroline.
"And this is Alison" Caroline said as she stood behind a much lighter haired little girl with chubby cheeks and a shy grin.
"She's only three" Nicola announced.
"Of course you already know George's youngest one Jeanne" Caroline said as she patted the back of the other little girl's chair.
"She's five" Nicola chimed in.
"I'm five and a half" sounding rather indignant the blue-eyed blonde who bore a deep resemblance to her mother replied.
"I was hoping we could sit out on the patio" Mary said as she led Sybbie and Caroline across the grand salon and into her sitting room. "It's too wet and too chilly unfortunately."
"The patio would have been nice but this is grand too." Left unsaid was Sybbie's thought this was much better than that staid dining room with paintings of gruff unsmiling faces covering every inch of wall unlike this lovely room with its soothing colors and lovely watercolors and photographs adorning the walls. Sybbie was sure that the enlarged photograph of a peony bush hanging above the marble topped credenza was one of Valerie's.
"A little more sophisticated than those picnics we used to have." Caroline lightheartedly mused as she, her mother, and Sybbie sat down at a small round table set for lunch. Looking at the fine china plates, crystal glasses and of course real silverware on the pink tablecloth Sybbie thought it seemed a bit extravagant for a lunch.
"What really matters is the three of us being able to get together" Sybbie smiled. Spying the open faced shrimp sandwiches among the array of dainty sandwiches on a china tray Sybbie smiled. "I see Aunt Mary you remembered my love of those shrimp sandwiches."
"How could I possibly forget?" Mary's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Any one that could eat ten of those sandwiches."
Sybbie feigned indignation. "Granny Cora highly exaggerated."
"Face it Sybbie" Caroline chimed in "you'll never live that down just as your father never let me live down my love of ice cream" to which all three ladies began laughing.
Her eyes shiny with amusement Sybbie said "he loved that you had pints of ice cream sent to him those last few months. Every week he'd say 'I wonder what flavor Caroline will send next.' The more outrageous the flavor the more he'd laugh." Sybbie reached out and patted Caroline's hand. "It was such a thoughtful gesture Caroline and meant so much to him."
"I'm glad I was able to give him a bit of comfort … a distraction" she nodded at Sybbie. "He was such wonderful man."
Not wanting to get mauldin Sybbie took a deep breath before changing the subject. "This is so weird that was I just thinking about you on the train this morning. Seeing horses in some fields I remembered the time I came here and we went riding. Which at the time I thought was the most exciting thing ever in my life."
"I remember that day … Drabble and Babble!" Caroline exclaimed as she remembered her first ponies.
Sybbie laughed. "But Daddy kept calling them something else."
"Dribble and Bibble" Caroline joined in laughing. "That was a wonderful day as was that time we came to Ireland and those times we holidayed in Wales. "Some of my best childhood memories." She smiled at Sybbie. "Now that I've moved back here we'll get to see each other more often."
"You've moved into the Abbey?"
"Heavens no. We bought the old Strallen estate about 20 minutes from here."
Mary quickly said "they bought Loxley House." Realizing Sybbie had no idea what that was she added "Edith once had visions of being mistress of Loxley but old Sir Anthony left her at the altar."
"Mama!"
"Well it's true Caroline. The old fool watched Edith walk down the aisle then as the Rev. Travis began the service he suddenly said he couldn't do it and walked out of the church."
"What a horrible man" Sybbie said as Caroline gasped.
"It was mortifying" Mary agreed.
"Well Sir Anthony is long gone-" Caroline began before Mary interrupted. "Of course he is. He was as old as Papa. "
"But it worked out in the end" Caroline offered. "Edith eventually met Bertie. Such a sweet man he was." Then looking at her mother she added "and she became a Marchioness."
Knowing she had hit a sore spot with her mother Caroline quickly pivoted to looking at Sybbie. "We thought it was a good time to get out of London. James can do his restoration work anywhere in fact he'd done a couple of houses in Yorkshire and I was thinking of having enough land to getting the girls ponies, maybe even starting a riding school, so we needed a place with land which Loxley has. It's a lovely Georgian manor house with good bones that just needs a bit of love.
Listening to Caroline talk Sybbie was reminded of the sweet cousin of their youth. In her twenties Caroline had become a bit of a wild child drifting aimlessly before an ill-advised marriage to a wealthy French racing car driver some ten years or so older than her. During that time her photograph often appeared in the British tabloids and magazines like Tatler and Paris Match as the pair traveled the racing car circuit as well as the Paris and London society party scene. The marriage only lasted a few years but left Caroline a rather rich divorcee. It was nice that Caroline had finally seemed to settle down.
Spring slowly faded into summer with the days longer, sunnier and warmer.
With summer came the public who descended on Downton on selected days to view the gardens, partake of refreshments in the tea room, and browse in the tea room's adjacent gift shop. It was of economic necessity that they had first opened the gardens to a paying public and
Mary grudgingly accepted this reality but unlike Ashley and Dina she took no role in this venture. So, unable to enjoy her own gardens in peace and quiet on this lovely Monday morning with a clear blue sky and warm sunshine Mary took her morning stroll on the gravel drive.
Since it was such a pleasant morning instead of returning inside Mary sat under Lebanon cedar on what on the family lovingly called 'Mary's bench'. Hidden from the house by a bank of tall shrubs and shaded by the cedar's sprawling branches of the, it was in Mary's opinion the perfect place to sit and read a book or think or just admire the view. A view that was now enhanced by the planting of wildflowers with such odd names as stork's bill, meadow vetchling and common mallow to name a few that provided off to the right a field awash in the pinks, purples, and whites of their flowers. That sea of color contrasted so nicely with the green of the gently rolling hills.
However, Mary's privacy was soon invaded by little Lady Jeanne Crawley. Mary watched in amusement her five year old granddaughter, who was secretly Mary's favorite grandchild, stomping up and down on the grass with her chubby little arms across her chest and muttering to herself. Jeanne must have paraded five or six times across the ground before realizing her grandmother was sitting on the bench.
"It's just not fair" Jeanne stopped in front of the bench, standing with her hands balled into fists resting on her hips she glared at her grandmother.
"Oh darling" Mary sweetly asked "whatever isn't fair?"
"I saw the most beautiful bunny and I tried to follow her into the garden-" she sighed huffily as she plopped down on the bench. Mary put her hand against her mouth to keep from chuckling at Jeanne's theatrics. "It's just not right Granny … all those strangers in our garden and I can't play there."
"I know darling. At least it's not every day."
Jeanne sighed. "Helen got to go to a birthday party so there's no one to play with."
"Oh that's right. Some girl from school" Mary said.
Jeanne nodded her head. "I wish I went to school then I'd have parties to go to." She tilted her head to look up at Mary. "Helen says when you're seven you get a social life and get invited to parties."
"Does she now." Mary was rather amused her young granddaughters were talking about social life. "Well I think you have the gloomies."
"I have the gloomies?" Frowning Jeanne looked down at her arms before tilting her head to look up at her grandmother. "Is …" she gulped "that … bad?"
Mary chuckled as she put her arm around Jeanne's shoulders. "That's what my little sister used to say when one of us was feeling out of sorts. But I think I know what can cure your gloomies" Mary paused as she thought "what if you and I go on a treasure hunt?"
"Treasure!" Jeanne practically shouted before jumping off the bench. Suddenly no longer downcast Jeanne hopped from foot to foot and eyes that just seconds ago had been teary now brimmed with excitement. "Oh Granny you think pirates buried treasure here?"
"We're looking for a different kind of treasure" Mary answered.
Almost two hours later, a tired Mary, with two dresses just a bit too big for Jeanne slung over her arm and holding a carton containing an assortment of odds and ends, and Jeanne wearing a pair of pantaloons, a shirt much too large, a gray hat adorned with two tall feathers in shades of blue and three necklaces draped around her neck and three or four bracelets on each arm trooped into Mary's sitting room. A tired Mary immediately flopped onto the comforting sofa while Jeanne, with all the energy of a five year old, laughed with glee as she twirled around the room admiring her make-shift pirate outfit. Jeanne's gloomies were cured.
"Mama" George said as he walked into Mary's sitting room "I have … oh!" He stopped as he saw her sitting in one of the lounge chairs intently reading a copy of Country Living. "I see you have a copy."
Mary looked up at him. "Hanes brought this when I rang for a cup of tea."
"So what do you think?" he said as he sat down in the other lounge chair.
She put the magazine on her lap. "I'm not sure I like being called 'Last of an Era'."
He chuckled. "But it is rather fitting isn't it?" Noting the glare she gave him he quickly added "you look quite beautiful in the photographs. Dina says that evening dress in the picture from" he looked at his mother and grinned "your youth is gorgeous."
"I was wearing that dress when Matthew proposed to me."
George sat up straight. "Really!"
Mary nodded. "It was at the servants ball and I went outside to get some fresh air and it was snowing." Looking sightlessly across the room she smiled at the memory. "And he came out looking so handsome in his tux."
"You so rarely talked about him" George said. "Sybbie knows all these stories about her mother but you haven't shared much with me at all."
Mary looked down, her fingers nervously playing with the corner of the pages of the open magazine on her lap. "I thought nothing could be worse that Sybil dying and then Matthew" she deeply inhaled "in little more than a year the two people I loved more than anyone else had died. For probably six months or so I rarely left my room and I … I … I fear I neglected you.
"The other day when Jeanne and I were in the attics I noticed some things of his there." She turned her head to look at her son. "Maybe we could go up there if you want."
"I think that would be nice" George replied. "I'd like to hear some stories of him." He stretched out his arm to pat his mother's arm. "I had a wonderful childhood Mama. Although he wasn't in my life I had you, Grandpa and Uncle Tom and then Henry."
Once again Mary smiled at her son. Placing her other hand on top of his she nodded her head, the magazine slipped from her lap and fell onto the floor. Quickly George stood up and reached for the magazine which he then handed to Mary.
She looked at the photograph of Downton on the cover. "So do you really think this will generate more visitors?"
George nodded his head. "Not only that but our gardening business too. Already we've had a couple of phone calls from businesses interested in buying our plants and Dina is thinking of even doing a landscaping business using the plants we grow here."
The clock on the mantle struck two. "I've got a meeting at half past." In a most uncharacteristic movement he leaned over and kissed his mother's cheek.
As he walked across the room towards the doorway Mary called out to him and he turned around and faced her. "Please don't refer to me as 'the last of an era'."
In response he chuckled. "I'll make a deal with you. I won't refer to you as such if you don't give Jeanne any more wild ideas."
"Wild ideas? Really George I have no idea what you're talking about" she replied. She chuckled as she heard him muttering 'gloomies' and 'pirates' as he walked into the hallway.
Walking across the grand salon Mary stopped and stood still listening for any sound but the house was eerily quiet. Usually at this time of the morning on a summer day the house resonated with the general clatter of the children. But today with George and family on holiday at Blackpool and Ashley's granddaughters visiting their parents now stationed in Morocco there were no children around. There were days when she yearned for this peace and quiet but today it seemed unsettling. She sighed before moving towards the library, the swishing of her skirt and the click of her shoes on the wood floor sounding loud in the unnatural quietness.
As she sat down at the desk her eyes were drawn to the silver framed photograph of her father that sat on the corner of the desk. Looking at his smiling face brought a wave of regret but her thoughts were interrupted with Hanes bringing her the morning post.
"Anything interesting?" Ashley asked as he came into the library and saw Mary sorting through the post.
"There's a postcard from Sybbie." She playfully grinned as she handed him the card.
"Hawaii!" he exclaimed as he looked at the picture of Diamond Head. He looked at her "I thought they were in San Francisco."
"Read the card" she responded.
Greetings from paradise! We decided to celebrate Mum's birthday in the warm sunshine. To our surprise Valerie arranged for Connell and Shiobhan (sans family) to be here also. Between the weather, the water, and the Mai Tais I'm not sure I want to ever leave. Will send letter and photos. Love Sybbie
"Well she's certainly making the most of her trip, visiting Yosemite and Death Valley and now Hawaii."
As Ashley read Sybbie's card Mary had returned to sorting through the post but stopped at a small creamy envelope addressed to her with an old fashioned fountain pen and gasped when she read on the returnee Viscount Branksome. Evelyn!
"Mary" a concerned Ashley looked at his wife.
Dear Mary,
What a pleasant surprise it was to see Downton on the cover of the latest edition of Country Living. Seeing the photographs brought back so many wonderful memories. I'm glad that Downton is thriving, most to your past efforts. I remember so well how you were determined that Downton would succeed. My daughter-in-law also read the magazine and stated the new plants in our border garden were ordered from your garden center. So now when I look out my study window and see that garden I'll think of you.
While I enjoyed reading about Downton I was especially pleased to see the side article about 'The Grand Dame' of Downton – you. You looked as lovely as ever in the photographs and I especially enjoyed seeing the old photograph of you in that red beaded dress – I seem to recall you wore it to the Sheridan's ball just before the great war.
Seems like the two of us are the only ones still around from the old days. I don't get out much – the old war wounds have worsened with age but surrounded by family I'm never lonely and I find enough to keep my mind occupied. Would love if you could come for lunch or tea. Fondly, Evelyn
"It's a note from an old family friend who saw the article in Country Living" Mary said as she put the notecard back into the envelope. While Evelyn might have liked the articles Mary wasn't so pleased. Actually it was calling her the 'Grand Dame of Downton' and the 'Last of an Era' that rankled her.
"You don't look too pleased" Ashley remarked.
"Not about this" Mary held up the envelope. "Evelyn was quite complimentary but then he always was a dear." She set the envelope on the desk and looked out the window.
Just as spring had slowly faded into summer, summer had faded into autumn. There were days when it felt that summer wasn't quite ready to let go and then there would be a day like today when despite the sunshine the air was cool and one noticed that the leaves were beginning to color and there was the faint smell of wood fires and apple cider.
"We haven't been up here in quite some time" Mary said as Ashley stopped the motor car near the folly Heaven's Gate.
Settled into the teak chairs with a glass of Mary's favorite Pinot Grigio, both Ashley and Mary took a moment to enjoy the view as well as sip the wine. On the far hills the trees were draped in golds and scarlets. The view from here had changed little from when Mary was a child.
"I remember the first time you brought me up here" Ashley said.
"I thought I had made a mistake doing so" Mary said "for I thought you weren't admiring the view but thinking of how those fields could aid the war effort."
"Actually I was thinking how far away the war seemed. That it was good to see some normalcy." He turned to look at her "and you didn't seem quite so guarded as you usually were."
"I guess that was because this has always been where I've felt most comfortable." Mary smiled at him. "I wasn't too nice when we first met was I."
"I could understand. We'd taken over much of your land. You were probably afraid we'd take the house too."
Mary took a sip of her wine. "I was lucky actually, I mean the house could have been taken as a hospital or a school or-" she shrugged her shoulders. "I was lucky that it was you that came here."
Autumn turned into winter and so the years passed. Downton thrived. The house became quieter as the older children left for university. Mary still visited Sybil's grave every May. Three months after Ashley died of pneumonia Mary died in her sleep. It was just one month shy of her 89th birthday. She was the last of an era.