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'I'm sorry if I've hurt you since I've been back at Downton,' Tom said, an apologetic look on his face as they lay on top of his bed facing each other.

Mary gave him a look. 'Well, you've certainly had me in a bit of a flap. I didn't know what on earth I'd done wrong when you came back. You wrote me all those marvellously filthy letters while you were away and then behaved like a Vestal virgin when you came home.'

Tom grinned at her description of his behaviour. 'I know. I'm sorry. I was trying to protect myself. I couldn't bear to go back to sleeping with you if you were going to throw me over as soon as someone else came along, not when I knew I was head over heels for you. And Henry appeared almost immediately.'

'Henry,' Mary snorted, dismissively. 'That was your fault. Henry would never have been a factor if you hadn't kept pushing it. I flirted with him to make you jealous. I was never interested in him.'

'He seemed like a good match for you, the type of man you should be with. And I thought it might be easier to put you out of my mind if I knew you were happy.'

'You're an idiot,' Mary said, affectionately. 'I kept telling you how much I wanted you. How could you not have listened to me?'

'Oh, I knew you wanted me sexually. You were so open about that right from the start, Mary. It took my breath away. But I thought that was all it was. I thought it was just me tumbling into this void.'

Mary reached out across the gap between them, taking hold of his hand. 'No, my darling. I'm right here beside you.'

Tom lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, smiling happily at her.

'So,' Mary said, in a casual tone that wasn't fooling anyone, 'when did you know?'

'Know what?' he said, his eyes twinkling.

Mary jabbed him in the shoulder. 'That you'd fallen for me.'

'I knew I'd been an eejit within weeks, maybe even days.'

'What do you mean? Been an eejit?'

'I mean I remember giving you this cocksure speech about how neither us would get hurt if we started sleeping together because there'd be no emotions involved. I thought it would be so easy, just a straightforward physical transaction. And then we did start sleeping together and I soon realised the joke was on me because I was falling in love with you.'

'Why didn't you say anything?'

'How could I? I thought a million times about telling you how I felt, but I knew I couldn't replace Matthew. And then there was Sybil. I was wracked with guilt. What did it say about me and Sybil if I could fall in love with you?'

Mary squeezed his hand, her eyes full of sympathy. 'It doesn't say anything, Tom, except that you have enough love in you for two women.'

Tom looked over at the framed photograph on his mantelpiece. 'Sybil and I were married for such a short time. Just over a year before she was taken from me. I've spent longer in this thing with you than I did married to her.'

He looked back at Mary, a jumble of emotions on his face. 'The life I had with Sybil; it feels like it happened to a different man. She was my everything, my heart and soul. I loved her with every part of my being.'

'I know you did.'

'I thought I'd never feel that kind of love again, that all-consuming, can't-live-without-you love. I never even considered it a possibility. I thought the best I could hope for was a gentle connection with someone else. A liking and a fondness strong enough to share a life with them. Nothing more.'

Mary nodded, understanding exactly what he meant.

'But then you and I started scratching our itches together, and everything changed. Every time I touched you, every time I made love to you, I fell deeper and deeper. My feelings for you grew and grew until I didn't know what else to do but leave.'

'You should have told me.'

'I know that now, but at the time, I never thought for one minute that you'd feel the same. I thought if I told you, you'd be horrified and it would all end badly, which would have been terrible for us as a family.'

Mary squeezed his hand. 'About Sybil, Tom. You know I'm not trying to replace her, don't you?'

'I know.'

'I know you'll always love her, just like I will always love Matthew. I just want to stand beside her in your heart like you stand beside Matthew in mine.'

'And you do. It's different the love I have for you from the love I had for Sybil. I don't know why, but it is. Maybe because of everything we've been through. I don't feel like you're replacing her at all because she'll always be there.'

Mary nodded. 'It's the same for me.'

'I just wish I'd understood that earlier.'

'Well, if it's any consolation, you weren't the only clueless fool in this relationship.'

'No?'

'Twice I nearly told you I loved you. If only I had. It would have saved us an awful lot of trouble.'

'When did you nearly tell me?'

'In the Lake District. And then the night before you left.'

'We were in the Lake District in July.'

'Yes.'

'Two months after we started sleeping together.'

'Yes.'

'And you knew then?'

'Yes. So, you see, we've managed to be in love with each other for over a year now with neither of us bothering to tell the other.'

Tom stared at her. 'Oh, God, Mary, you're right; we are idiots.'

Mary gave him a wry smile. 'Well, we are where we are. At least, we're not idiots anymore.'

'But what do we do now?'

'What do you mean?'

'Do we go back to sneaking around or do we come clean?'

Mary thought about that for a minute. 'I think we have to come clean.'

Tom blew out a sigh of relief. 'Oh, thank God, for that. Now I know we're in this together, I'm not sure I can keep hiding it.'

'Me neither.'

Tom clasped her hand tighter. 'How do you think they will take it?'

'Honestly, Tom? I'm not sure.'

'I suppose it might depend on what exactly it is we're telling them.'

Mary squinted at him. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, when you say we've to come clean, what exactly are you thinking? Do you simply want us to be an open secret within the family or…'

'Or?' Mary felt her heart begin to race.

Tom gazed steadily at her. 'Or will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

Mary launched herself across the bed, flinging herself at his chest, hugging him tightly.

'Your wife! I'll definitely be your wife,' she mumbled into his neck.

Tom laughed, falling backward under her assault, his arms going around her, pulling her with him. 'That's a yes, then?'

'Yes! Although, I will expect you to ask me again properly later.'

Tom smiled up at her, tenderly pushing her hair behind her ear. 'I'll do the whole down-on-one-knee thing with a ring if you want me to,' he said, stretching up to kiss her.

Mary kissed him back then settled down happily, her head on his chest, her arm around his waist. 'I suppose you should ask Papa too.'

'He's already married, Mary, he'll never say yes,' Tom said, with a chuckle.

Mary batted him lightly on the chest. 'Fool. You know what I mean.'

Tom hesitated before he spoke again. 'There is one sure-fire way to get them all firmly behind us getting married.'

'Is there? I'm all ears, Tom.'

'If you were pregnant.'

Mary lifted her head, raising herself up to look at his face. 'I knew it!'

'You knew what?'

'You were secretly hoping I might be pregnant after London, weren't you?'

Tom looked a little guilty. 'Maybe.'

'There's no maybe about it! You were!'

'All right, yes. I did think it might be a way out of the torment.'

'Ha! I had exactly the same thought the morning after Papa's ulcer burst.'

Tom chuckled, rubbing his hand along her arm. 'Great minds think alike, eh? Is that going to be our plan then? For me to get you pregnant and force the family into a shotgun wedding?'

Mary shook her head. 'No, that could take forever. It took me ages to fall for George.'

'Well, perhaps if we have lots and lots of sex, it might happen quicker,' Tom suggested, hopefully.

Mary grinned saucily at him. 'Oh, don't worry, Tom, I foresee an inordinate amount of sex in our immediate future. I have many itches for you to scratch after your stint as a Vestal virgin, but I don't want to put off telling them until I'm expecting. Besides, I want them to know I'm marrying you because I want to, not because I have to. And anyway, what if it never happens? Where would we be then?'

'Do you want it to happen?' Tom asked, suddenly serious. 'Do you want to have a baby with me?'

Mary rested her chin on his chest, studying his face. 'Once we're married, I will happily have your baby, my darling. The bigger question is how you would feel about it.'

Tom looked down at her then blew out a shaky breath. 'I think I'd be both thrilled and terrified at the same time. I'll warn you now, if it happens, I may spend the whole nine months in a heightened state of anxiety and fuss over you like an old woman.'

'And that would be entirely understandable, but just remember I have already given birth once and I was absolutely fine. I mean, it hurt like billy-o, but I was fine and I'm still here.'

'Yes, you are,' he said, pulling her down for a kiss. 'So, if we're shelving the baby plan for now, how are we going to approach this?'

'I'm not sure yet. Let me think about it. And if you have any bright ideas, don't keep them to yourself.'

'I won't, I promise. But in the meantime…'

'In the meantime, what?'

'Maybe I could start making it up to you for being an idiot all these months I've been back.'

Mary grinned. 'Well, you do have rather a lot of apologising to do. I suppose the sooner you start, the sooner I can begin to forgive you for all the misery you've put me through.'

'So you haven't forgiven me already then?'

'Well, no, not until you've proved how very sorry you are.'

'It sounds like I have a lot of work to do,' Tom said, reaching for the buttons on her blouse. 'I'd better get started then.'

Mary smiled. For a day that had started so badly, she had a feeling it was going to end spectacularly well.