In the bright afternoon sunshine Tom and Sybil stood at the rail as the ferry churned out of Holyhead and into the Irish Sea. Sea gulls swooped around the ship, their high-pitched squawks noisily filling the salty air. Long after most of the passengers had sought comfort inside the ferry's lounge they remained standing at the rail, Sybil's gloved hands holding on to the rail as if to keep her balance and Tom's left hand gently covering Sybil's right hand. They had chatted almost nonstop on the train from Downton to here, reveling at being together, no longer needing to hide their relationship from those around them. Yet, now standing here at the rail, Sybil suddenly become quiet for as she watched England slowly fading from view she was suddenly hit by the enormity of what she was doing.

As the ship ventured further into the Irish Sea Tom had turned his attention from the watching the receding shoreline to watching Sybil. Much to his alarm her lovely face which moments ago had been aglow with delight had become a mask betraying no emotion. Surely they hadn't come all this way for her to change her mind now Tom thought.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Tom softly asked hoping his voice didn't reveal his inner fears.

He wasn't sure at first that she had heard him over the squaws of the sea gulls for she made to movement to answer him, keeping her face still turned towards land. As the seconds ticked by and she remained silent a tinge of panic began coursing through him. After all this time could she

"Really Branson, I think my thoughts are worth much more than a penny" and a sly smile crept across her face as she turned to look at him.


When England had faded from sight they finally retired to the warmth of the lounge where they enjoyed a hot cup of tea and the last of the smoked turkey sandwiches Mrs. Patmore and Daisy had packed for them. Finished eating Sybil leaned her head against Tom's shoulder and soon the gentle sway of the ferry lulled both into a light sleep. Whether it was sensing movement or the chatter of those around her Sybil suddenly woke. The clock on the front wall of the lounge showed the ferry was little more than twenty minutes from its scheduled arrival time in the port of Kingstown.

Grabbing Tom's hand Sybil pulled him up from the seat. "Let's go out on deck Tom. I don't want to miss the first sightings of my new home."

As they stepped out onto the open deck they were hit with a blast of chilly sea air. "Are you sure about this?" Tom asked as he pulled up the collar of his coat and buttoned all the buttons but Sybil was undeterred. "I think I'm too excited to be cold" she responded as she clutched her navy overcoat tighter around her to ward off the damp chill.

Wrapping his arm around her waist, Tom led Sybil to a small spot nested between two large round posts that gave them a bit of shelter from the wind. The late afternoon sun sat just barely above a chain of hills that Tom told her were the Wicklow Mountains. "It's quite lovely there" Tom said "with beautiful lakes and mountain trails. My grandfather had a farm about an hour away to the west. Some of my fondest memories of summer are the days I spent there where we'd climb trees and had land to play chase and kick around a ball. Depending on the time of the year we'd pick blueberries or blackberries and the sweetest strawberries I've ever had. Ma would always tease us to leave enough for her to make pies. We'd bring home pails of berries and she'd make jams and jellies. And in the fall there would be apples."

Tom chuckled. "When I was about 9 or 10 we boys accidently learned the difference between cider and hard cider. Ma wasn't too happy when Grandpa found us sleeping it off in the barn."

He turned towards Sybil. "My Uncle Tadhg lives there now and it's still the source for most of what Ma cans or preserves."

"Oh Sybil there's so much of Ireland I want to show you. You can't really tell from here but there's plenty of beautiful coastline near here with cliffs that drop right into the sea and in other spots there's beaches with golden sand. We can have picnics and days at the seashore and talk long cliff walks. We can sit on the edge of a pier, our feet dangling in the water and eat the freshest fish and chips or oysters or shrimp. We can wade into the shallow water and dig for clams."

"It sounds wonderful Tom."

"But it's not just the seashore or the mountains Sybil. In Dublin itself there's the theatre and the library at Trinity College and St. Stephen's Green and Phoenix Park."

Sybil chuckled at Tom's enthusiasm. "Will we even have time to work?"

Tom blinked and swallowed hard. "I just want you to know that … that …"

Sybil reached up and touched his cheek. "It all sounds lovely Tom and I want to get to know Ireland. But most of all I look forward to being with you whether it's sitting across from each other at the breakfast table or together on the sofa after a hard day at work or-"

"Oh Sybil" Tom leaned over and kissed her, relishing that at last he was free to do so.


The most elegant thing Nora Branson owned, if one could describe a tea set as elegant, was the fine china tea set that her brother, a merchant seaman, had brought back from Japan as a wedding gift even if it had been received closer to her first anniversary than her wedding. Although the original box had yellowed with age, the tea set itself was like new but then again in the thirty some years she had owned it she had only used it a handful of times most notably on her anniversary. On those occasions, after the children were in bed, she'd cover the kitchen table with her finest lace tablecloth on which she'd set the tray holding not only the china tea set but also slices of freshly baked cake, usually Séamus' favorite pound cake surrounded by fresh berries and dollops of clotted cream. Although her Séamus had been in his grave some fifteen years now Nora recalled how after a cup or two of tea, his laced with whiskey, Séamus, singing a tune in his rich deep voice, would take her in his arms and they'd dance around the kitchen.

Nora shuddered as she took a deep breath. It wasn't good thinking about such things now. She looked at the kitchen clock and once again shuddered. They'd be here soon, that fool son of hers and his intended.

Nora took the oval china tray out of the box and placed it on the table. table. Lady Sybil would of course be used to such fine things Nora thought as she gently lifted one of the tea cups painted with a delicate pattern of pink and red blossoms on golden tree limbs. No doubt Lady Sybil drank tea from delicate gold rimmed china cups decorated with patterns of colorful roses or lilacs sitting on a matching saucer and with an ornate silver tea spoon she stirred her tea laced with spoonfuls of sugar thought Nora. These days sugar, like so much else, was too precious and Nora didn't waste any in her tea but she'd put a few spoonfuls in the sugar bowl just in case her ladyship desired some.

In a small bowl she heaped tablespoons of her homemade strawberry jam which had always been a favorite of Tom's and another one she filled with another of Tom's favorite her apple butter. Her tea tray was now complete except for the tea which she'd put the kettle on the stove once Tom arrived and she'd wait until then to slice the soda bread that was still warm from the oven as was the raisin bread.

She prided herself on keeping a neat and clean home but no amount of cleaning or scrubbing could brighten the worn linoleum floor that had faded to a dull gray or hide the chips and water stains in the sink basin or the scratches on the sturdy wooden table that seemed to fill half the small room. Nor was there any mistaking the chairs surrounding the table were a mismatched collection of shapes and sizes as well as woods. The only bright spot in the room was the colorful patterned cotton curtain that covered the top half of the room's sole window. Beneath that curtain the glass panes glistened but it was a daily battle with the soot and grime that billowed from Dublin's many factories into the air to keep them sparkling.

She just couldn't imagine Lady Sybil dressed in a fine silk dress trimmed with delicate lace, maybe an emerald or diamond on a gold chain around her slender neck, sitting in this drab kitchen daintily drinking tea. No she wouldn't serve tea here, she'd serve tea in the sitting room. Nora closed her eyes, shook her head, and emitted a deep sigh. What was Tom thinking? He should have had more sense. Fools the pair of them.


Sybil thought the trip from the dock to the Branson house seemed long. While Tom and his cousin Billy, who had met them at the dock with a borrowed motor car, talked Sybil had intently watched her surroundings. Although the port area had been busy filled with motor cars and lorries as well as passengers vying for space Kingstown itself seemed like a rather small town, larger than Downton but not as large as Ripon. The road out of town ran along the coast with fine views of the sea before turning inland. They passed through a couple of small villages and here and there were isolated houses but as they neared what Sybil suspected was the city of Dublin housing became more dense and clouds of smoked billowed into the air. To Sybil's surprise there were scraggy vacant lots intermingled among the buildings and the road Billy turned down was unpaved. There women in faded dresses, their faces smudged and tired looking, sitting in doorways of narrow houses watching raggedly dressed children play on the pavement or in the street and a couple of men their legs stretched out on the pavement and their backs resting against a building passing around a bottle. It was all a far cry from Downton or Ripon or for that matter the London that was familiar to Sybil where Grantham House and the surrounding blocks were tree-lined streets of elegant houses.

And then a few minutes later the motor car was in an area that looked a bit more prosperous with paved roads and shops lining the street and quite a few people were out and about walking on the pavements probably hurrying home from work while others stood around talking in small groups of two or three. Tom took Sybil's hand as the motor car turned onto a narrow street, barely the width of two motor cars, lined with a series of attached small two story light colored brick houses whose front doors opened directly onto the pavement. The color of the houses and the pavement and the treeless street all blended together in the fading sunlight and the drabness of it all was broken only by some brightly painted front doors.

Billy brought the motor car to a stop in front of a bright blue front door. Sybil looked at the house and then turned her face towards Tom's. As if he could read her thoughts Tom squeezed her hand and smiled before whispering "she'll love you." Sybil nervously nodded her head but didn't admit she didn't quite have Tom's optimism.


Mary stood at her bedroom window looking out into the night. She generally wasn't one to sit and look at the moon and stars in wonderment or to ponder life, no that was Sybil. Yet tonight as Mary gazed at one of the few visible stars not in wonderment but in sorrow. She, Mary of the cold heart, the woman without a heart, the hard-hearted one, was hurting. She felt like crying for it seemed as if her whole world had been turned upside down in such a short time. With Lavina's death she had lost any chance with Matthew who was now riddled with guilt. She saw us Mary. She saw us kiss. She gave up because of us.

And now Sybil, the one person Mary truly loved and had loved since the first time she had seen her days old younger sister. Sybil the one person who truly thought Mary was a good person. Sybil had left her.

Dinner had been a long and excruciating affair. Isobel and Matthew of course hadn't been there. In mourning her father had said but Mary knew it was Matthew's guilt that would keep him from coming to dinner any time soon. Granny had acted like nothing had changed, that there wasn't an empty place at the table where Sybil usually sat. But conversation had been sparse and even Granny eventually gave up the charade.

Anna was surprised that Mary made no acknowledgement of her entrance, instead she continued to stare out the window.

"Shall I come back my lady" Anna's sweet voice broke the room's silence but Mary still made no acknowledgement of her lady's maid presence. Her hand was on the door handle ready to quietly leave when Mary finally uttered "life can change so fast. Can make changes we're not ready for."

"Has something happened my lady?"

Mary exhaled deeply and then turned away from the window. "I'm just wallowing in self pity."