Dublin, Summer 1919

The second time Mary saw Tom naked, he was technically Tom to her, not Branson, but only just.

This time it was July 1919 and she and Edith were in Dublin for Sybil's marriage to the family's former chauffeur, an event that Mary could still hardly believe was actually happening.

The trip had been exceedingly trying for many reasons, not least because she was here alone with Edith of all people, which was punishment enough in and of itself.

Their father had flatly refused to attend, despite having given Sybil and Branson his blessing. Apparently, it was one thing agreeing to the marriage, quite another watching it becoming a matter of record.

And in a move that was quite uncharacteristic for Papa, he had put his foot down and forbidden Mama from attending the wedding either. That had caused ructions between her parents the like of which Mary had never seen before, but after kicking furiously against his diktat, her mother had eventually gracelessly obeyed and remained at home at Downton.

Granny had also declined to come, muttering something about the Irish weather not being good for her old bones.

'It's summer, Granny,' Mary said, narrowing her eyes at the Dowager. 'It will be almost exactly like it is here.'

'Which is precisely my point. I only put myself through an arduous journey when it's travelling south towards the sun and the warmth of the Riviera. I do not care to be tossed about on the Irish Sea like a ball in a bucket only to chill myself in weather I can suffer by simply staying at home,' the Dowager replied, her nose firmly in the air.

'But it's Sybil's wedding,' Mary persisted.

'Yes, I am aware, and I will send her and… and Branson a handsome gift to mark the occasion.'

'I'm sure she'd rather you come in person.'

'Yes, well, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride,' the Dowager declaimed.

And that was the end of that.

So, in the end, it was just her and Edith who took the boat over to Dublin, and a miserable journey it turned out to be too.

They sailed in a summer storm and were indeed tossed about on the Irish Sea as their grandmother had predicted. Edith turned green almost immediately and spent the entire voyage in their cabin either throwing up or collapsing dramatically on her bunk, declaring she was dying.

Having spent more than enough time with Edith to test her patience already, this was all simply too much for Mary. So, made of sterner stuff as she was, she spent the entire voyage in the first-class lounge, occasionally sending a steward to check that her sister was actually still alive.

Dublin itself was far more pleasant than she had expected, especially the area around St Stephen's Green where they were staying at The Shelbourne Hotel. Even the Dublin she saw when Sybil excitedly took her and Edith to see the small flat Branson – no, not Branson, she must call him Tom now – had secured for them after their marriage wasn't so bad. It wasn't the slum she had feared, anyway, so she counted her blessings. Although for the life of her, she could not see how Sybil and Bra-… Tom both expected to live in such a small space. Honestly, the entire footprint of the place couldn't be much more than her bedroom back at the Abbey.

The wedding was a bit of a mystery to both her and Edith, what with it being a Catholic ceremony, heavy on the Latin and absolutely, mind-numbingly interminable. Still, Sybil looked happy enough and Tom looked at her like she had hung the moon. Despite Sybil marrying down further than Mary could have ever imagined, they did actually seem to love each other a great deal. She supposed they must if Sybil was willing to give up her comfortable life back in England for a more, well, frankly challenging life in Ireland.

The only nod to Sybil's previous existence as a member of the British aristocracy – apart from the presence of her loving sisters – was the gift from her mama.

Cora had instructed Mary in no uncertain terms that she was to book a suite for the happy couple for their wedding night and the two nights after as a sort of honeymoon, and not to say a word to her father about it.

'No, I can't accept it,' Sybil said when Mary told her when she and Edith arrived in Dublin. 'Tom won't like it. He'll say it's too extravagant.'

'Well, it's not him paying for it, is it, so I don't see that there's a problem,' Mary said, smiling confidently at her sister, unable to see what the issue was.

'No, you don't understand. He's a proud man, he won't accept charity,' Sybil replied, earnestly.

'Then it's a good job it's not charity. It's a wedding gift,' Mary said firmly, the debate now over as far as she was concerned.

'That's not the way Tom will see it,' Sybil insisted, the subject far from closed from her perspective.

'Honestly, Sybil, does it really matter how he sees it? It's your wedding,' Mary said, feeling a bit perturbed that Sybil seemed to be willing to give ground to Branson so easily.

Sybil narrowed her eyes at her, her hands finding their way to her hips. 'It's our wedding, not just mine, so yes, it does matter how he sees it. He's going to be my husband, Mary, whether you like it or not, so I will take his thoughts and feelings into account. And I'm telling you now, he won't like it.'

Mary opened her mouth to retort only to find herself smoothly side-lined by Edith of all people.

'Of course, you have to take Tom's feelings into account. It's only that Mama was devastated at not being able to be here and this is her way of making it up to you both,' Edith told Sybil, her voice all calm and soothing.

Sybil threw a considering look at her sister, actually appearing to listen to that argument. Mary eyed Edith in surprise, feeling a grudging level of respect for how she was handling this.

'She'll be heartbroken if we go back and say you wouldn't accept her gift,' Edith continued, pressing on the buttons she knew Sybil would find hardest to resist. 'She'll think you're punishing her for not being here and she already feels so very guilty about that.'

'Ugh, this is so hard,' Sybil said, sinking down into the nearest chair. 'I feel like I've got an impossible job trying to keep everyone happy. I don't want to upset Mama, but neither can I force Tom to accept a gift he feels is wrong.'

'Well, I can't say that I know Tom anywhere near as well as you do,' Edith said, wandering over to stand beside Sybil, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'But maybe if you explain the situation, he might not be so opposed to it. Surely, if he loves you, he wouldn't want you to be at odds with Mama. And besides, wouldn't it be lovely for the two of you to spend your wedding night in a nice hotel without having to worry about anything? If you can't do something special for your wedding night, when can you?'

Sybil looked up at Edith and then sighed. 'All right, I'll talk to him.'

'You do that, darling,' Edith said, then spoiled the moment completely by turning to Mary and giving her a smug look.

Whatever her arguments and her methods, Sybil succeeded in talking Tom into staying in the suite at The Shelbourne. Which is how Mary and Edith found themselves waiting for her in the salon area of the suite two mornings after the wedding.

They were leaving on the afternoon boat, so the three sisters had arranged to go out and spend the morning together. Sybil had welcomed them into the suite, settled them in the salon then left to get her hat and coat. That had been ten minutes ago.

'Where is she? She's been gone ages,' Mary said irritably, looking at her watch yet again.

'Perhaps they're...' Edith said, cryptically.

Mary shot her a look, her irritation increasing. 'Perhaps they're what?'

'You know.'

'I might if you'd only spit it out,' Mary grumbled, her patience at breaking point.

'Doing it.'

Mary stared at her sister.

'Well, they are newly-weds,' Edith said, quirking an expressive eyebrow.

'But... but we're here!' Mary squawked, completely shocked by the thought.

'But we're not in the same room as them, are we?' Edith pointed out, looking completely unruffled by the thought of their ex-chauffeur making love to their sister mere yards away.

Mary stood up abruptly. 'I'm going to look for her.'

'Oh, no, I shouldn't if I were you,' Edith said, hastily. 'I don't think that's a very good idea. What if they are doing it?'

'Oh, don't worry, Edith, I'm not going to go barging into their bedroom,' Mary replied with a roll of her eyes. 'I shall simply knock on the door and remind her we're here.'

'I don't think you should. I think it's more polite to simply stay here and wait for her. Especially when we're talking about honeymooners.'

'Well, you stay here and wait for her then. I'm going to remind her she has guests,' Mary said firmly, squaring her shoulders and sailing determinedly through the salon door.

Out in the hallway, she crossed in front of the main suite door and followed a corridor that led away from the salon. Partway down it, she began doubting the wisdom of her actions when she heard a muffled cry swiftly followed by a grunt. She paused, uncertain as to what she'd heard, and then she crept nearer.

'Oh, Tom, that was… that was lovely,' she heard Sybil say, her husky voice breathier than usual.

'You're lovely. Lovely in every way,' came the voice of her new brother-in-law, sounding a little like he'd been running.

Mary took a few steps forward and then stopped, her eyes widening as she got to the sharp left turn in the corridor that apparently led to the bedroom. Ahead of her was a picture and reflected at an angle in the glass, she could see Tom and Sybil locked in an embrace.

Sybil was standing in her new husband's arms, gazing up at him smiling, her face flushed, running her fingers over his back. She was fully dressed as she had been ten minutes ago, although not yet wearing her hat.

Branson, on the other hand, was not fully dressed. He stood in front of Sybil completely naked, his arms looped around her, clasping her to him, his nudity stark next to her fully-clothed appearance.

His long, lean back was as smooth as Mary recalled it from all those years ago when she'd seen him in the pond. And his round bottom was also just as peachlike as it had appeared then, two perfect globes perched at the top of his legs.

Mary watched, unable to look away as Sybil slid her hands down his back and grasped handfuls of his buttocks, squeezing them.

'You're so naughty! My sisters are just down the hall!' Sybil said to him, a delighted grin on her face.

'And didn't that just make it more exciting? Knowing they could walk in on us at any moment. I told you we had time, didn't I?' he said, dipping his head to kiss her neck. 'And if I have to part from you for several hours, I wanted to give you something special to remember. A reason for you to come back.'

Sybil giggled. 'I don't need any more reasons to come back. You're my reason. We're married now.'

'I just wanted to be sure. And now you know no-one else can make you tremble quite like I do, you'll definitely be back for more,' he said, and Mary rolled her eyes at the cockiness in his voice.

'Is that going to happen every time? Will you make me tremble like that every single time?' Sybil asked, wonder and hope in her voice.

'If I do it right,' Branson replied, bending his head to kiss her.

Mary found she couldn't tear her eyes away as Sybil massaged his bum as they kissed, squeezing and caressing it, running her hands all over it.

'I have to go,' Sybil said when they broke the kiss. 'If I know Mary, she's two seconds away from marching in here to remind me we have guests.'

Mary blanched and began to backtrack as quickly and quietly as she could.

'Well, just remember that when you come back here, I intend to make you tremble like that on every piece of furniture in this expensive, fancy suite,' she heard Branson say and as Sybil's answering giggle and gasp reached her ears, she turned and fled back to the salon.

Edith looked up at her as she hurtled back into the room and shut the door carefully behind her.

'Did you remind her?'

'She was… they were…' Mary mumbled, uncharacteristically flustered.

Edith grinned. 'Doing it?'

Mary glared at her. 'Do not tell Sybil I left this room.'

Edith chuckled.

'I mean it, Edith!'

'I won't breathe a word,' Edith said, still laughing.