At his accustomed place at the head of the table Robert appeared engrossed in the morning newspaper while Mary and Edith, sitting in their customary seats across from each other, concentrated on the food on their plates. After sharing "good mornings" there wasn't really much else to say so the three sat at the breakfast table in silence with only the rustling of the newspaper, the scrape of a fork against a plate, the rattle of a spoon against a tea cup, the occasional whimper of Isis or thump of his tail on the wooden floor, providing any sounds in the large imposing dining room.

As Edith stirred her tea she glanced at her father. She briefly thought of asking about the latest news but knew that he'd mutter there was nothing much of interest to her as if he even knew what would interest her. Not that she wasn't happy the war was over but oh how she longed for those days her days had been filled with comforting the wounded soldiers whether writing letters for them, retrieving books for them to read, or simply sitting by their side talking to them or sometimes just holding their hand. As she took a sip of her tea she wondered how she had ever felt contented with her idle life before the war.

Carson announcing "The morning post my lord" caused all three to lift their heads and look at the silver tray the stately butler was holding. Robert lifted the small pile of letters from the tray and began sifting through them quickly stopping at one addressed Lord and Lady Grantham postmarked Dublin. He held it in his hand staring at the familiar handwriting a moment or two before turning his attention to the rest of the letters but the next two envelopes were addressed to Mary and Edith in that same familiar handwriting. Not that she hadn't written to each of them before but never at the same time and he seemed perplexed at the thought of why his youngest daughter might be writing to all of them now.

Noting the look on her father's face, Edith asked "Is something the matter Papa?" but rather than answer he continued staring at the envelopes.

"Papa?" Mary said in that demanding voice of hers which did catch his attention.

"These are for you" he said as he placed the two envelopes on the table near their plates.

Realizing the letters were from Sybil, unlike their father both of them quickly opened their envelopes pulling out a small flat card as well as a letter. Reading the card Edith let out a squeak as Mary gasped before stating "the wedding is set."

"So it's happening" Robert sighed.

Tilting her face Edith looked at her father. "Really Papa did you not expect it?"

He tapped the unopened envelope on the table. "I guess I still held out some hope that she'd-"

Mary didn't wait for her father to finish his thought. "Surely after all this time Papa you couldn't have thought she'd change her mind."

He looked at the unopened envelope he held in his hand wanting nothing more than to tear in to tiny pieces. She really is gone he thought. A resigned Robert took a deep breath before standing up. "I guess I should take this up to your mother."


Mary sat absent-mindedly tapping Sybil's wedding invitation against the top of her vanity table. She looked at the small plain white card and her heart ached. How could her beloved sister settle for this she thought as she looked at the flimsy card, lacking any embellishment, the wording not engraved but rather written in Sybil's own handwriting. Hearing the opening of her bedroom door Mary set the card on the table and in the vanity mirror she saw Anna's reflection as she entered the bedroom.

As Anna styled her hair Mary couldn't help but notice her discretely glancing at the invitation. Mary tapped a fingernail on the card. "So the date has been set."

"Will you be attending?" Anna asked.

"It might not be what I wanted for her but of course I'll attend."

"You're a very loyal sister" Anna said.

Mary looked in the mirror. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have said something." She glanced up at Anna's reflection in the vanity mirror. "About that night … the Swan Inn" her voice little more than a whisper.

"But you didn't say anything my lady."

Mary shook her head. "I just couldn't betray Sybil that way."

Mary hadn't shared her father's hope that Sybil would change her mind for she knew her sister too well, far better than her Papa. Despite the years he had driven her around, Mary had no inkling as to what Branson was really like but Anna had worked with him for years.

"What is … Branson …" Mary stumbled through the words "like … as a person?"

Although Anna had a cordial relationship with Mary she knew they were not in any way equals and Mary sensed Anna's hesitance in replying. "I'm just trying to have a better understanding of the man that will be my brother-in-law."

"I always liked him but he's a bit different from the rest of us." Anna wasn't quite sure what had made her say that. "I mean his job set him apart from the rest of us, he had a lot more independence, and he didn't really answer to Mr. Carson. But he'd eat his meals with us and seemed to have a wealth of knowledge probably from all the newspapers and books he read. He got on well with most everyone."

"Most everyone?" Mary injected.

"Well Thomas and O'brien were certainly no fans of his."

"Oh?" Mary raised her brow in that way she had.

"He wasn't intimidated by them. He even called them out when they picked on or bullied one of staff."

"I guess that speaks in his favor" Mary chuckled.

"Actually I don't think he was intimated by anyone not even Mr. Carson."

"So you'd say he has a strong personality" Mary replied.

"I'm not sure I'd put it in that term. It's not like he's domineering but more like he's sure of himself. I think he was just nice to be around. Even Mrs. Patmore seemed fond of him always making sure there were extra scones for him and she'd save him something to eat when he wasn't back in time for our luncheon."

"Golly that does say something."

"And if you don't mind me saying so my lady I think he and Lady Sybil have a lot of the same interests." She left unsaid that she thought they made a handsome couple.


With none of the stifling formality of Downton, Sybil enjoyed dinners and the banter that ensued as she and the Bransons sat around the kitchen table but it was that time after dinner when the dishes were done that had become her favorite time of the day for that was when she got to spend time alone with Tom. If it was a fine spring evening they might take a walk and she reveled in being able to openly walk arm in arm or holding hands with Tom as they talked endlessly.

In this part of Dublin there was only a sprinkling of trees and certainly no picturesque parks or charming gardens for strolling but through these walks Sybil learned bits and pieces of Tom's childhood. As they walked passed houses he pointed out where his friends had lived and talked of their childhood adventures. They had stood in front of the small shop selling fruits and vegetables where after school he swept and moved crates earning a few pennies and more importantly to a ten year old boy had access to the latest comics. They strolled to the garage where as a fourteen year old he fetched tools and lugged tires and oil cans and became enamored with motor cars. They walked to the school where he had excelled in his studies and learned to stand up to bullies and sitting on a small board strung between two trees Tom told her of how he had come to love reading. She had laughed as they stood outside the church where he spent torturous Sunday mornings trying not to fidget as the priest droned on.

It was a childhood so different from her own privileged one. Yet, strangely, she found there was much to envy.

Then there were other nights, like tonight, when they'd sit on the tiny porch off the kitchen. Away from the street, here at the back of the house the sounds of city life were muffled. Tonight with the sun long gone the air was pleasantly crisp while the sky over head was mostly a darkish gray but whether from clouds or the usual smoky haze that often settled over Dublin one couldn't be sure. Here and there a star managed to break through the grayness but the moon remained hidden.

"I never really appreciated the beauty of the stars and the moon until Downton. I must admit I miss the clear skies of Downton." Tom's words caught Sybil by surprise and she tilted her head to look at him but his sight was focused on the sky.

"Not exactly the most beautiful evening sky" Tom murmured but Sybil didn't care for she loved just being able to sit like this with his arms around her while she leaned back with her head resting against his chest.

"As long as I'm sitting here with you I think it's perfect" Sybil replied.

As Tom began to nuzzle her neck a loud clang like that of a pan being dropped on the kitchen floor caused Sybil to giggle. "I think your mother is letting us know it's time to go in" Sybil whispered.


On few weekends they had been in Ireland Tom and Sybil had traveled further afield from the Branson's neighborhood. She had been shocked to see the remnants of the destruction that had taken place during the Easter rising of 1916 when the British sent gunboats up the river to shell the rebels taking shelter in the General Post Office. The shelling and resulting fires had destroyed that grand building leaving only the granite façade and portico still standing as well as leaving much of Sackville Street, the main thoroughfare of the city, in ruins.

But south of the River Liffey was a Dublin that reminded Sybil of London with its grand buildings of stone and granite, a river running through the midst of it, fine squares with elegant Georgian townhouses surrounding leafy inner parks. Here too was Trinity College and Dublin Castle, home of the British government. It was a fine area for walks with plenty of pubs or tea rooms to rest one's weary feet.

As Sybil stood on the corner of St. Stephen Green she glanced across the street to the Shelbourne Hotel, the city's finest hotel and where she expected her family would stay when they came for the wedding. Surely the elegant hotel would satisfy her family but she shuddered at what her family would think as they drove from the hotel to the little church where she would be married. At least the drive wouldn't take them through the ruins of Sackville Street.

"Sybil!" Helen's voice brought a smile to Sybil as she turned to see her friend laden with two wicker baskets. Slightly lifting one of the baskets Helen bubbled "I've been in Dublin long enough now to know one needs to take advantage of fine sunny days like this so I thought we'd find a place in the park to eat."

Having noticed Sybil looking at the Shelbourne she added "much nicer I think than a stuffy place like that."

"It's where my family will probably stay when they come for the wedding" Sybil said.

Helen nodded her head as she looked at the fine red brick building. "I expect so. It certainly caters to-" she abruptly stopped. Turning towards Sybil she smiled. "I'm sure it will please them very much."

"Much more so than the church" Sybil gave a hollow laugh.

They wandered into the park and found a secluded grassy spot underneath a towering Oak tree for their picnic. It was an idyllic setting with sunshine filtering through the leaves of the aged Oak, the warm air faintly scented with lilac, and the soft gurgling of water from a nearby fountain providing a bucolic respite from the city around them.

"So is everything set for the wedding?" Helen asked as the conversation turned to Sybil and Tom's upcoming nuptials.

"Mostly" Sybil responded. "I haven't heard from my family yet so I don't know when they're coming or for how long they're staying."

Sybil looked down at her lap and dusted away imaginary crumbs. "Some how this all seemed so much simpler when Tom and I were still at Downton making our plans to come here. I thought we'd be married by now and living in our own place and I'd have a job."

"Oh Sybil" Helen reached out and patted Sybil's hand. "It will all work out. You're mostly there … the wedding is set and you have the place to live. The job … well that one …" she took a deep breath.

"I do have an inkling of what you're feeling on that" Helen continued. "I've been working for a number of years now and it has seemed strange not to be working these past few months. Although I didn't really try for any position, there was so much to do to the house but as you've seen I didn't get too far with it. It hasn't helped that Liam was quite content with the house the way it was in all its horrid Victorian splendor."

Sybil couldn't help but laugh at that comment.

"So if Tom or you feel like tearing out some wallpaper please do so. And maybe you could make those dreadful drapes in the front room that makes me think I'm entering a funeral parlor disappear."

"So that's why you've lent us the house" Sybil teased.

"Actually" Helen suddenly became serious. "Liam and I mean it that you're doing us a favor, heaven knows what would happen to the house if it sits empty for the next year or so. But I do have another reason … I never told you or never thanked you for …" Helen looked down at her legs or more specifically the deformed leg that was over an inch shorter than the other one. "It's hard being different."

"I was so used to the other children at school making fun of me, imitating how I walked, calling me gimpy, leaving me out of their games. The first time we met you were curious but not in an unkind way. You always treated me like I was normal, that I could do everything you could do. You can't know how much that meant … means … to me."

"Oh Helen I had no idea how hard it must have been for you. I was just so happy to have someone to play with, who liked to do the things I liked to do. We did have so much fun didn't we?"

"We did. With your nature, your kindness and compassion I can see you as a wonderful nurse Sybil."

Looking wistful Sybil turned her head to look straight ahead. "I loved nursing. It was the first time in my life that I felt useful and had a purpose."

"Keep trying Sybil and maybe a nursing job will open up or maybe there is something else you could do."

Sybil slowly shook her head. "But I don't know how to do anything else except embroidery and needlepoint and my skills there are sorely lacking. Unlike you my parents wouldn't let me go to school even though I begged them to let me." Then in a perfect imitation of Granny she said "What could you possibly learn of value in school? Proper ladies need to know where to seat everyone at a dinner party and how to keep the conversation flowing. You don't learn those things at the village school."

"Oh Sybil!" Helen sighed. "But you did persevere, you went to nursing school."

"Much to my parents' dismay."

"It just shows your strong Sybil. Just think of all the changes you've taken on. It isn't easy coming to a new country especially one that … well" Helen looked around the park. "It all seems so peaceful here like weren't not in … I'm not sure war zone is quite the right word but I think Dublin … Ireland is in for some rough times ahead. I can't imagine what it's like for you being English and people will judge you just on that not even considering what your thoughts are on Irish independence."

Sybil nodded her head. "It has hurt more than I've let on even to Tom. It's been bad enough that the hospitals won't give me a chance but even some of Tom's relatives won't meet me because I'm English. Sometimes when I go to the shops with Tom's mother or sister I don't speak or if I do I'll try speaking with an Irish accent. Funny thing is" she glanced towards the Shelbourne hidden from sight by the lush growth of trees "there's plenty of Irish who aren't in favor of independence."

"Have you and Tom thought about going to America?" Helen asked.

Sybil shook her head. "He's been so keen to play a part in Ireland's independence. And this job with the newspaper has given him a real chance for a job outside of service or motor cars."

"Well America is something to think about for the future … if things get too bad here. But in the meantime look at this as you'll have some time to adjust to your new home and to marriage itself."

"Or as time to redo your house?" Sybil teased causing them both to laugh. "Maybe I'll ship those drapes to Liam at your new home in Boston."

"Don't you dare!" Helen laughed again. "Am I going to regret you having time on your hands?"