Thank you for the reviews. eyeon, yes, you did read the last two chapters out of order! :D

Mary stared at her reflection as Anna readied her for dinner. She couldn't quite fathom how it was that physically she looked exactly the same as she had that morning when she'd undergone such a sea change on the inside since then.

'Are you all right, milady?' Anna asked, concern in her voice.

Mary flicked her eyes to her maid, still distracted as she had been all day. 'I'm sorry, Anna. What did you say?'

'I asked if you were all right, milady. You don't seem yourself.'

'Hmm. I have a lot on my mind.'

'Is it anything I can help with?' Anna asked, immediately.

Mary gazed at her through the mirror. She knew it was highly unlikely her honest, honourable, straitlaced maid would ever even contemplate thinking about any man other than her husband in a romantic or - heaven forfend - a sexual way. But Anna was also possibly the only person she could confide in.

'Have you ever…' Mary began then stopped, doubting the wisdom of saying anything.

'Have I ever?' Anna prompted when her mistress didn't continue.

Mary eyed her cautiously, weighing up her words with care. 'Have you ever thought of a person in one way and then found your sentiments towards them have changed?'

Anna looked puzzled by the question. 'Do you mean have I ever misjudged anyone?'

'No, not misjudged them, exactly, more… seen them in a new light?'

Anna thought about that while she brushed Mary's hair to a shine. 'Well, I suppose I could say that about Mr Barrow. I thought him quite devious, unfeeling and unkind for a long time, but I realised after he… well, after the incident in the bathroom that he's not unfeeling at all. He feels things quite deeply, I think, and that's why he used to lash out. Because he was unhappy.'

Mary stared at her.

'Is that what you meant, milady?'

'Not quite, but… do you think Barrow is happy now?' Mary asked, turning over Anna's words in her head, thinking how in many ways she could apply them to herself.

'I'm not sure I'd go as far to say as he is happy. I think it must be difficult to be happy when you have to hide a part of yourself like he does. But he is happier than he was now he is the butler and doesn't have to report to Mr Carson anymore. And he has a new friend, I think. He's been brighter these last few weeks, especially when he gets a letter from his friend.'

'Goodness, there seems to be quite the letter-writing epidemic at the moment. The world and his wife seem to be writing letters to Downton,' Mary commented bitterly, her thoughts drawn back to Tom's never-ending stream of letters.

'Oh? Is someone writing to you, milady?'

'Not me, Anna, no. But Mr Branson is receiving a letter every day at the moment. He won't talk about it, though, so it's quite the mystery.'

'Do you think he has a sweetheart?' Anna asked, her face lighting up with curiosity.

'He won't say. All he'll say is that it's from a friend,' Mary replied, deciding not to mention Miss Smith's name to Anna as her maid undoubtedly knew the woman from her recent stay at Downton. The last thing she wanted was to hear yet another person telling her how perfectly matched Tom and the irritatingly persistent Miss Smith were.

'Oh, I think that would be quite lovely for Mr Branson to find someone special to share his life with after all these years he's spent mourning Lady Sybil,' Anna said, approvingly.

Mary's stomach clenched horribly, and she bit back her instinct to reproach her maid for overfamiliarity.

'Hmmmm, maybe,' she replied, tightly. 'But she would have to be exceedingly special to compete with my sister.'

'I don't think it need be a competition, milady,' Anna said, glancing at her mistress in the mirror. 'Lady Sybil will always have a place in his heart, I'm sure, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have enough love to spare for another woman if he finds someone he cares about.'

'Perhaps,' Mary said, noncommittally, unwilling to think about Tom loving Miss Smith or any other woman come to that.

'It would be like you and Mr Talbot finding love after you lost Mr Crawley. You never thought that would happen, but it did. Maybe it will be the same for Mr Branson. He deserves to be happy, don't you think?' Anna said, fixing Mary's headband in place and patting her hair into shape around it.

Mary stared at Anna in dismay, her words piercing her because, yes, Tom did deserve to be happy, and it was unfair of her to wish anything else on him.

'There, I think you're done, milady.'

Yes, Mary thought, gazing at her reflection, feeling ashamed of herself. She was done in more ways than one. What was she thinking? Tom was out of bounds for her and rightfully so. He had his life to live, and she had hers. And she was married, for heaven's sake. She had a husband who loved her. She had no business thinking of another man, especially not one so closely bound to her in so many ways.

'Milady?' Anna said, concern in her voice again as Mary disappeared once more into her own thoughts. 'Are you sure you're all right?'

Mary came back to herself and gave Anna the brightest smile she could muster. 'Yes, quite sure. My hair looks divine, Anna. You've excelled yourself. Thank you.'

Anna smiled at her mistress, beginning to pack away the hairdressing paraphernalia as Mary pulled on her evening gloves.

'I'd better go downstairs and do my part to entertain our guests,' Mary said, her stomach in knots at the thought of seeing Tom after her behaviour in the office.

'Enjoy your evening, milady. Between you and me, I think Mrs Patmore has prepared your favourite pudding for the dessert course.'

Mary gave Anna a smile, trying to focus on mundane things like what she would be eating for dessert. 'How wonderful. I shall be sure to send her my thanks.'

With that, Mary squared her shoulders and went downstairs to see what the evening would bring.

Mary saw Tom as soon as she entered the drawing room, her eyes drawn straight to him. He didn't acknowledge her, but she saw him glance at her briefly before he turned back to his conversation with Isobel.

As the evening drew on, she began to feel very much like she was playing a game of cat and mouse with him. As she joined a conversation, he left it. As she approached an area of the room, he departed it. He sat at the opposite end of the table at dinner and Mary got the distinct impression he deliberately chose to sit on the same side of the table as her so he couldn't see her and, by extension, she couldn't see him.

'Have you and Tom had a falling out?' Henry asked, coming to stand beside her when the gentlemen joined the ladies after dinner, apparently having also noticed Tom making every effort to avoid her.

'We had a slight exchange of words this afternoon,' Mary admitted, careful not to go into details. She watched as Tom entered into conversation with Isobel and Dickie on the other side of the room, his back firmly to Mary.

Henry narrowed his eyes at her. 'You haven't been badgering him about his letters again, have you?'

'I may have mentioned them,' Mary said, defensively, knowing Henry would be displeased with her.

Right on cue, he sighed and shook his head. 'Mary, you have to let that subject go. I know you're worried that Miss Smith or whoever is writing to him will spirit Tom away from Downton, but he's a grown man with the right to live his life as he sees fit. You have to allow him that privilege.'

Mary clenched her jaw, her stomach falling away at the thought of Tom leaving Downton. 'The letters are from Miss Smith, that much I do know, and I don't have to allow anything.'

Henry gazed at her in disappointment. 'No, I suppose you don't, but in the end, it's not up to you, is it? Tom will do what he wants to do and that's all there is to it. I just think you should consider retiring from the battlefield with as much grace as possible because this is not a fight you can win.'

'What do you mean by that?' Mary snapped, her eyes flashing with anger. 'If he breaks it off with Miss Smith and stays here, then I do win.'

'But at what cost? If you persist in this bizarre vendetta against Miss Smith, how long do you think it will be before he feels he has to choose between you? And what will you do if he chooses her?' Henry asked, raising a questioning eyebrow. 'And if by any remote chance he chooses Downton over the possibility of love and happiness with Miss Smith, do you think he will forgive you for meddling in his life the way you are? It's a dangerous game you're playing, Mary, and I'm not sure you will like the outcome, whichever way it goes.'

Mary glared at her husband, simultaneously feeling sick at the notion of Tom choosing to be with Miss Smith and completely irritated at Henry for weighing in on the subject. She decided to ignore the former and focus on the latter.

'Well, thank you for that fascinating analysis, Henry, but I think I know Tom better than you do. I've certainly known him for longer, so I think I'm better placed to know how he may react to a situation,' she said, crisply.

Henry stared at her, pressing his lips together, obviously trying hard not to show how much she was testing his patience. 'He's not your plaything, Mary. And he's not your husband either as much as you like to treat him like he is.'

Mary's mouth dropped open at that. 'I do not!'

'Yes, you do. Apart from the fact that I share your bed and he doesn't, there is little difference in the way you treat me and the way you treat Tom. It's something I've had to get used to in the years we've been married. If I were a lesser man, I may have felt threatened by your relationship with Tom, but I trust you both. However, I don't mind telling you, this recent possessiveness you seem to feel over him is testing the boundaries of my tolerance in that area.'

Mary gawped at Henry, feeling affronted by that accusation even as a needle of guilt began pricking at her. 'I am not possessive of Tom!'

'Oh, my dear, yes, you are. But Tom has a mind of his own, something I think you forget at times. At the end of the day, he will do what is right for him, and you will have to accept that that may not necessarily be the same thing you would like him to do,' Henry continued. 'But suit yourself if you want to continue hectoring him. Just remember that when things come to a head between you two – which they will if you continue in this vein – I did warn you.'

'Yes, because you are always right, of course, aren't you, Henry? You couldn't possibly be wrong about anything, could you?' Mary tossed an excoriating look at her husband then stalked away from him, anger and guilt seething beneath her skin.