I'm glad there was so much interest in continuing this story so thanks for all reviews for the last chapter

"I understand you're driving into Ripon this morning" Mrs. Hughes said as Tom lingered alone in the servants hall enjoying the newspaper and a second cup of tea. "I wonder if I might go along as I have some sewing supplies to purchase and I'll find a better selection in Ripon than in the village."

Tom folded the newspaper. "Of course Mrs. Hughes. I'd like the company. Can you meet me at the gate to the courtyard in say twenty minutes?"

Mrs. Hughes was waiting under the brick archway that led into the servants courtyard when Tom drove up in the motor car. Stopping beside her he jumped down from the driver's seat and went around to open the passenger door for her. She raised a brow at seeing him dressed not in his usual green chauffeur's uniform but in dark gray trousers, a white shirt and a heavy blue knitted jumper.

Sensing her surprise he said "sometimes it feels good to wear my own clothes, not that I have much. I rarely get to do so but I'd rather walk around Ripon in this than my chauffeur's uniform."

He looked at his jumper and patted his chest with left hand. "Handmade. Last year's Christmas present from my Ma." As he spoke he didn't notice her pulling on the round collar of her shapeless dark green jacket that fell just below her hips covering at least part of her somber black housekeeper's dress.

Looking up at her he grinned "I expect I'll be getting another one this year. Ma worries that's its cold in the garage and my cottage."

Smiling she said "Well it's a very nice jumper". Left unsaid was her thought of how it emphasized the lovely blue color of his eyes.

As Mrs. Hughes settled into the front passenger seat beside Tom he turned to her and said "I can't recall ever driving you anywhere."

"Well it's been a long time since I've ventured beyond the village" she replied. She looked out the windshield. "I think the last time might have been last year when a group of us went to the fair in Thirsk and William took us there in the horse cart."

"I remember that. I offered to drive but Mr. Carson said it wasn't an appropriate use for the motor car." Tom shook his head at the memory. "He called me into his office and reminded me of my proper duties telling me I was the chauffeur for the family and their guests not the staff."

Then realizing he probably shouldn't have spoken so harshly about the butler's words he tried diverting the conversation. "Don't you go anywhere on your half day off?"

"There was a time when I'd occasionally take the bus into Thirsk or Ripon and walk around looking at the shops, maybe have tea but these day I use my afternoon off resting" she replied. "Although it seems like someone always has a question or issue and finds me in my room so I don't really get much rest."

"You should be like me and wander around the estate. There's lots of lovely places to sit and read a book or eat lunch or" he paused for a moment "or just enjoy the scenery and I doubt anyone would come looking for you." He turned to look at her. "Or if they did they probably wouldn't be able to find you. The place isn't going to fall apart if no one can find you for a couple of hours."

They were approaching the house. He nodded his head toward the structure, looking like the ruins of a Greek temple, sitting across the broad lawn from the house. "Did you know there's more of those things" He quickly turned and looked at her "You know like that structure" once again nodding in its direction before turning back to face the gravel drive "well there are several more on the estate."

"That one is called Jackdaws Castle but I've no idea who was Jackdaws and I'd say it looks more like the ruins of an ancient temple than a castle so it seems a rather silly name for it. But there are several follies" he again glanced at her "that's what they're called a folly and I think folly seems like a rather proper word for them as they serve no purpose. Just like the English to waste money on an ornamental building."

She stifled a chuckle but said nothing as he continued. "Anyway I could point out some nice places where you could find peace and quiet and a nice view. There's one folly in particular I like. It has a stone bench built against the back wall and a roof over it and it's come in handy a time or two when I've gotten caught in the rain. Its name is The Etruscan Temple."

"I wasn't aware you are so knowledgeable about the estate."

"Well I do have to know my way around. Sometimes I take his Lordship to see a particular field or tenant farm." He chuckled "sometimes I think he just likes to go somewhere with a good view that's a bit too far to walk with his dog."

By now they had passed through the village and were out on the road leading to Ripon. It was a fine early fall day in Yorkshire with a cloudless sky but despite the sun shining brightly the air was crisp reminding one that winter wasn't too far off. The trees were still covered in leaves, many still in their summer greenery but a few stood out with leaves of bright red or yellow.

"From the time I was young I've always liked this time of year" Tom said. "I was that odd child who loved returning to school. Mind you I always had a great summer. We boys would stay for weeks at my Granda's farm. There was a lot of work to do helping him with his crops but he's also give us time to swim in the pond or climb trees and sometimes we'd sleep out in the yard. As a city boy that was all so exciting and fun. Of course we'd end up with bruises and cuts and scrapes and occasionally one of us broke an arm or twisted an ankle but we'd all say it was worth it."

"I always think of fall as that time of learning. I love how colorful the trees become with their blanket of red or yellow or orange leaves. But my favorite thing about fall was that at my Granda's farm we'd have a proper céilí celebrating the harvest. It seemed like all my aunts and uncles and cousins would be there and the céilí lasted for several days. My Ma and aunts would cook so much you could eat for hours and then of course dance it off before starting again."

Mrs. Hughes couldn't help but smile at the sheer joy in Tom's voice.

"I know what you're talking about" she said. "We had those harvest parties too when I was a young girl. I think I was always most excited because my Ma would sew me a new dress and I'd get to show it off at the party. I remember the skirts always swayed when I danced."

She turned to face him. "And I think we Scots can rival you Irish in the music department."

He laughed. "Well you may think that but-" he shrugged his shoulders. "Let's just say we both beat the English."

They passed several fields where farmers were busy with their harvests.

"But it's not only the food and the dancing and the music. One of my uncles had an apple press and he'd make fresh cider from apples we'd picked on the farm. Of course he always had a few jugs of hard cider which of course we kids were not supposed to touch. One year, I must have been about twelve I had my first taste of poteen" Tom chuckled. "Let's just say my time at that céilí was quite short."

The sheer joy that had been in his voice faded into wistfulness as he said "My Granda died just before I came here. He was a fine storyteller and I remember many an evening sitting around a fire listening to him tell the old myths and legends. He had this deep voice and it was so mesmerizing especially when he spoke in Irish."

He took a deep breath. "One of my uncles took over the farm and I hear they still have the céilí every year around this time."

They continued chatting of this and that and Mrs. Hughes was surprised how quickly the drive went and she was rather disappointed when they reached Ripon. She directed him to the shop she was interested in.

"I'll probably be about an hour" he said as she exited the motor. "The motor car shop is on the other side of town." Then looking down the street at the spire of a small stone church he added "talking about my Granda has … well I'd like to go into the Catholic church and light a candle and say a pray for him."

Lunch had already started when Tom and Mrs. Hughes walked into the servants hall. Only Carson seemed to pay them any mind as they took their usual places at the servants table, his booming voice saying "Glad you could join us" before raising his brow as he noticed Tom was not wearing not his chauffeur's uniform.

Ignoring the butler's sarcastic tone Tom replied "Me too. I hate to miss one of Mrs. Patmore's delicious lunches." Mrs. Hughes stifled a laugh at his rather cheeky reply. While she knew the butler needed to maintain a certain level of standards to ensure an efficiently run household she thought that sometimes he could be a bit too stringent. It wasn't as if she and Branson were a tad late because they had been lollygagging although Mr. Carson might well consider Branson's few minutes in the church to be such.

After lunch Mrs. Hughes had just settled into her office when Carson stood in the doorway, his large frame filling the small room's doorway. "So how was your little excursion this morning?"

"You make it sound like I was on a personal jaunt rather than running errands for her Ladyship and your precious Lady Mary."

"No I just meant … well you don't usually go into Ripon" he replied.

"Because I'd have to take the bus and abide by its time schedule." She pointed her arm at the chair in front of her desk as if offering him to sit down. "Since Mr. Branson wasn't driving one of the family I took the opportunity to go with him to Ripon where there's several shops with a wider selection of goods than Marlowe's in the village."

"I don't mean to question your actions Mrs. Hughes I was just wondering if you had a nice time."

"Well going by motor car is certainly nicer than taking the bus and Mr. Branson is quite nice company."

At this Carson once again did that brow raising look he did when something surprised or astonished him. "I shudder at the thought of being stuck in a motor car with him probably talking about Ireland or politics."

"He does talk about more things than that Mr. Carson. We actually had a very nice conversation about the estate."

"The estate?" a perplexed Carson injected. "I can just imagine his thoughts on the inequity of the aristocracy."

She shook her head. "Not about that although I'm quite sure he could talk about that. Have you been to the Etruscan Temple or the Temple of Diana?"

"What are you talking about Mrs. Hughes? I thought we were taking about the estate not Greece."

She chuckled. "Those are two follies on the estate. I must admit I've never been beyond sight of the house. The drive leading to the village, the stable block, maybe once or twice to the kitchen garden but not beyond that to the lake or ponds or those follies."

He cleared his throat. "The estate isn't here for our enjoyment Mrs. Hughes."

"Does that mean we can't take a walk through the woods appreciating the changing color of the leaves or enjoy the sight of wildflowers blooming in a meadow?"

"Is this what Branson does?"

"He drives his lordship around the estate. He's learned quite a bit about the estate. It may surprise you Mr. Carson but even his lordship talks to the chauffeur."


Mrs. Hughes should have been used to it by now but the barking of Mrs. Patmore at the kitchen maids seemed particularly grating this morning. She knew it was a particularly busy, and stressful, time of the year for the kitchen staff what with preparing as much food as possible ahead of the holiday season. Although with the war still raging the family wasn't doing as much entertaining as usual but there would be the annual holiday party for the tenants and possibly dinners with the neighbors such as Lord Merton and Anthony Strallan and the annual decorating of the tree and lighting to which the servants were treated with sweets and cider.

The loud clanging of a pot or pan hitting the tiled kitchen floor caused a flurry of shrieks. Mrs. Hughes sighed, she wasn't going to get any work done. Maybe a cup of tea would soothe her she thought but as she stood up she realized she had no desire to walk into the kitchen. Instead she thought she'd take a walk upstairs just to ensure everything was running smoothly but upon walking into the deserted servants hall she spied a package sitting on the table. It was addressed to Branson who had left the hall before Mr. Carson had brought in the post. Maybe a short walk to the garage would be just the thing to refresh her.

It wasn't until she was outside that she realized the day was surprisingly mild for early December, not that anyone would mistake it for summer or even spring but it was a rather unexpected delight for this time of year. Standing in the courtyard she took in a deep breath of the fresh air thinking once again of how nice it would be to have window in her office. She could go days without knowing what the weather was like outside.

The courtyard was empty and it wasn't until she walked into the area considered the old stable block that she encountered any signs of life as she heard the neighing of a horse and sounds of plodding footsteps on the gravel. More sounds could be heard as she approached the garage where the clanging and muffled noises almost rivaled the kitchen clatter she had hoped to escape. The sounds of clinging and clanging emanating from the garage raised her curiosity since the few times she had been here the garage had always been quiet.

Standing in front of the open garage door she was surprised to see Branson's lower legs and feet sticking out from under one of the older cars. There was such a racket coming from under the car both from what she assumed might be a wrench as well as the curses he emitted that she was sure he hadn't heard her enter the garage. She considered leaving him to his work but she was still rather curious as to why the usually composed chauffeur was so ruffled.

After a particularly loud and colorful curse, she assumed it was a curse but couldn't be quite sure since he seemed to be speaking in Irish, the wrench came flying out from under the car barely missing her foot as it went skidding past her and out in to the gravel yard. There was a moment or two of silence then Branson, uttering another curse or two, pushed himself out from under the motor car. In his state of distress he didn't notice Mrs. Hughes standing there.

"Not having a good day Mr. Branson?"

Startled by the sound of her voice he quickly pushed himself into a standing position. His face was red from both frustration and embarrassment. "I'm sorry Mrs. Hughes you had to witness that."

"I believe we all have moments like that from time to time" she responded.

He emitted a chuckle. "Maybe but I have a hard time picturing you throwing a wrench or maybe in your case I should say a feather duster."

"As I said Mr. Branson we all have our moments. I'll admit I'm not quite sure of some of those phrases you were using. Speaking Irish I gather?"

Once again his face flushed red. "I'm sorry if I offended you. I figure if I speak in Irish then if anyone overhears they won't really know what I'm saying."

"Very wise I think" she laughed.

It was then he realized she was holding a box. "Is that" he nodded at the box in her hands "what brought you out here this morning?"

"It is." She stepped towards him and held out the box. "It came in the post after you had left the hall."

He took the box from her and a smile broke out on his face as he read the return address. "My Christmas box from my family." He set it carefully on his workbench. "It's a bit early but my Ma isn't one to wait until the last minute."

For a moment he got that faraway look as if seeing his family in his mind and Mrs. Hughes could swear his eyes misted a bit but just as suddenly he blinked and smiled at her. "I won't open it until Christmas Day or maybe Christmas Ever but wanna guess as to the color of my new jumper?"