August 1943

Josephine went into the village the next morning, not to teach at the village school, but to help the girls, Connie and Claire, at the telephone exchange. It would help take her mind off of her troubles. She was starting to worry about Charlotte, whom she hadn't heard from in weeks. Jo figured she was mad at her. Especially that she was back with the Duke. They decided to take things slow.

Jo had written to her weeks before, telling where they could meet each other. She was staying at Brancaster Castle. She showed up at the front door, introducing herself to Aunt Edith.

Jo hadn't been happy about it. "What were you thinking, just showing up like that?"

"I don't want to be kept a secret completely. I've always wanted to meet your family. To them I'm just your friend. Who's going to know or come to that conclusion?"

"We are friends."

Charlotte had looked anxious, looked around at her surroundings. "Let's take a walk. There's something I need to talk to you about."

And so, they took a walk through the park, coming to rest on a bench.

"So, what's on your mind?" Jo had asked her, hoping she'd just say to forget about it. Charlotte had been silent their whole walk.

"I'm trying to find the right way to say it. Without sounding like a total bitch."

"For me that's a daily chore."

"I'm serious about this Josephine."

Jo waited. Only a few people called her by her full name, the majority did when they were angry. Only her papa seemed to say it with affection.

"I'm tired of being yanked around, competing with several other men and that Duke of yours."

Jo didn't see what the big deal was, she and Charlotte were nothing serious or ever talked about it. It was just a bit of fun. None of her suitors had been serious apart from the Duke. He had agreed to let her see other people because he was a traditionalist, meaning he'd been prepared for other possible suitors, and confident that he would come out the winner in the end. Jo didn't want to be anyone's prize. And she felt that she wasn't cut out for a conventical married life. Her parents being so in love had made her afraid of it.

"It's not several other men. Just Billy. And the Duke. He accepts because he thinks he can win. Well, I'm not going to be anybody's prize."

"You know what I mean." Charlotte cut across her. "You can't have both worlds. You can only choose one."

Jo knew what she meant.

"Well, I don't accept it. That's our parent's old way of doing things. I choose to live in the future."

"What are you saying?"

"It's either me or them. You can't have both." Then Charlotte came up with another ultimatum. "I bought tickets for us...to a train station, from there we can board a ship. It's a hospital ship. We can both train as nurses, and at the same time we can see the world. After the war, we can find somewhere, just the two of us."

"I can't just drop everything or leave papa and my family. Everything I've ever known and with my brother being away..."

"That's just an excuse. Nothing would have ever stopped you before. I'm giving you one last chance. Meet me tomorrow. If you don't..." She closed the clasp on her purse and stood up. "I can't keep playing games." and hurried off.

Jo hadn't showed up to meet her. She had sent a letter explaining her decision but had gotten silence. It was perhaps for the best that their friendship come to an end.

When she had gone back to the castle, her Aunt Edith had been waiting up for her. A well-dressed man was just leaving. Her Aunt's face held an expression as if she were about to scold a child.

"Do you know who that man was?"

"No. Should I care?"

"That was a detective. He told me something very concerning, about your friend Charlotte."

"Oh? What has she supposed to have done? Knock off a shop?"

"He seems to be under the impression, well someone told him, about your...spending time together."

"We're just friends. Anyway, I was just seeing her off. Looks like I might not be seeing her again. We had a disagreement. The only way that we'll remain friends is if I meet her tomorrow."

"I would advise you not to. I can't let you stay here, unless you tell her to go. I cannot, in my good conscience condone it, if you were discovered..."

Discovered, as if she had done something criminal. In the eyes of the law, it was but she had never gotten that far with Charlotte, maybe brushing each other's feet under the table, and they had shared only one kiss. But Aunt Edith was right. She knew her Aunt was just looking out for her.

The front door opened and closed. It was Jay coming in. He was home from school for the weekend. Aunt Edith brought her voice down into a whisper.

"Whatever this friendship is, innocent or not, I think it wise to put an end to it."

"Hello, where is everybody?" Jay's voice called.

"We're in here, darling." His mother called.

That's what had been in the letter, her real reason for her not showing up to meet her, but the damage was apparently done, even if the letter had reached her at all.

Men were so much easier to talk to; they didn't over-react to everything, and you didn't have to display that much emotion. None of the boys had ever caught her eye in village, though she caught many of theirs.

She just liked the attention from Billy, always mischievous and daring, she had needed the excitement. She had time to think about it, deciding that's what it was.

Like mama had said papa would have hardly approved. And she was only with the Duke because it was expected of her and she wanted to please her parents, especially Papa. But he would want her to be with anyone that made her happy. Charlotte made her happy but that was out of the realm of possibility. While wars changed the world, it wouldn't change that fast for them to be together, in whatever way.

By the time she got to the exchange, there was a commotion outside. A protest of some sort? Around the fray of the gathering crowd, she could barely see a man, pushing his way through, his head down.

Connie came running up next to her, "Were where you? You missed all the fun."

More bystanders were making it out onto the scene. She wanted to say something, anything. He shouldn't be treated this way. But she was too frightened. What if they turned on her?

Then above the jeering and shouting, she heard a familiar voice. Her father's voice.

Matthew had just come out of the office when he heard the commotion. Some poor man was being harassed by a small crowd that had formed around him. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were on about.

"Get away from him. All of you. Stop this at once! Didn't you stop to think he may have a reason? Do you think our men would want this in their name, men who are risking their lives every day, would want to be remembered? This is how you show your respect? Shame on you. All of you, go home."

The crowd silenced, not having to be asked twice. Some of them ashamed and humiliated. Good. As they started to clear out, he caught sight of one person he didn't expect to see. He only saw the back of her. Please let me be wrong.

"Josephine?"

She slowly turned, a half nervous smile on her face.

"Josephine, get it the car."

"No. I'd rather walk home, thanks." It sounded like a deliberate insult.

"Get in the car, now!"

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You've embarrassed me."

"We'll have a talk about this later." He said sternly.

Why did he have to treat her as a child? Caroline was the baby of the family. She wanted to stall. Avoid having to have that talk for as long as she could. She walked through the village. She came to a stop at the church. On the bulletin they would often list the missing or the dead. Something drew her to it. She didn't think she would see any names she recognized.

There was a flyer stapled in the middle.

Australian Hospital Liner Sunk By Torpedo.

Scrawling down the list of casualties, she saw the name, Nurse Charlotte Parker. There was only one Charlotte Parker on the list.

She nearly fainted, sinking to her knees.


It was later in the evening. Mary noticed Matthew's mood hadn't changed since he had come home.

Have any bad news today? was too tactless to say. There was bad news everywhere. And asking if anything was bothering him or what's on his mind would be pointless. It was always the boys.

"How was the office?"

"I saw Josephine there. I told her to get into the car, she refused. She said I've embarrassed her." His forehead furrowed and she could see all the lines.

"Did you ask her about it? What was she going there?

"No. I didn't give it much thought."

"Well, there's your answer. You've misunderstood the situation. I still think you should talk to her about it. She's at least owed to explain. Isn't that what you've always told me and what we've taught our children, instead of jumping to conclusions?"

"Yes." He briefly smiled. He had advised her on it constantly in their younger years. She wasn't thinking of the main issue here. Finding his daughter in the middle of that protest, that wasn't what hurt him. "Whatever reason for her being there doesn't matter. It's clear I am an embarrassment to her. I don't think there's much to..."

"She said 'you've embarrassed me', not 'you embarrass me.' She was probably embarrassed of what her friends think about you, and she shouldn't be. You need to talk to her. Our daughter loves you. She doesn't think any less of you."

Come to think of it, she hadn't joined in with the jesters or had directed any slurs. But had smiled, a nervous one, not a gleeful one he had misinterpreted it as at first.

"I'll go talk to her about it now." He set down the book he was reading, grabbing his stick. Mary smiled behind her magazine.

He stopped just outside her bedroom door, wondering what he was going to say to her. It wouldn't be angry words, that's for sure. They'd work through this like calm, civil adults. He raised his first about to knock. That's when he heard her anguished sobs.

Without bothering to announce himself, he entered.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" She shouted, sounding angry but he could see right through her. She was kneeling on the floor as if she had been in prayer. Her face puffy and red with tears.

He sat down on the bed and she scooted over on her knees and buried her face in the mattress.

"Tell me. What is it, darling?" He gently touched her head, wondering what could be causing his child so much pain. "Is it your brothers?"

George had just left to go back, and Andy had just turned seventeen. He would be joining his brother next year, if the war was still going on by then.

She felt so awful, how she had treated him earlier and mad at him now that he was speaking to her as if she were a child again. But a part of her wanted to be. She wanted him to tell her that everything would be alright. How could he when he if he doesn't know what's wrong. She didn't want him to find out this way.

"It's my friend, Charlotte. The ship she was on was torpedoed by the Germans."

He continued to listen and comfort her. He had read the notice in the village, one of the names had been their own, from Downtown, one of the farmers sons. He didn't know any Charlotte nor heard of her until now. She wasn't from the village. He only knew of Claire and Connie. Where could she have met this Charlotte and why had she never told them of her or at least never had met her?

The ship she had been the AHS Centaur, a hospital ship. She must have been a nurse. He wouldn't ask any questions. All he could do was hold her in his arms, her head buried in his lap, as she started to sob heavily again. A sorrow that went deeper. He began to expect that this woman had been more than just a friend.

"Was this Charlotte more than just a friend?"

Her head shot up. The tears were still falling but they were silent now. The warmth of his hand radiated through the back of her shirt. He was always there for her. She had to tell him. He's papa. I can't keep this in any longer. If I have to tell someone it has to be him. He'll at least try to understand. No one else will, not even George. Papa will still love me. She straightens up with all the bravery she can muster. "We were ...together."

It was a shock to him, even though somehow, he had known that she had been different in some way. What hurt him the most was the utter shame she had on her face. That she would think he would be ashamed of her.

"I loved her. But when I realized, it was too late. She..." She shook before taking back some control. "When I was mean she knew I could be soft, and she made me calm, and knew how to make me laugh. Like with you and Mama. That's how I know it was...real." She asked me to go with her. It should have been me.

"Do you...?" He wasn't sure how to ask. She knew what her father was asking.

"I like men too, I think. I don't know. I'm not sure."

"Does anyone else know?" He kept his voice level and serious. He didn't want her to think the worst of him. She probably already thought he was disappointed in her. His little girl, who pretended to be so cold, was in actuality, a sensitive soul. He didn't know why she hung around Connie. She was a spiteful person, her true nature. There was no kindness to cover up, like his daughter. He had no doubt that it had been Connie that had instigated and antagonized that whole scene, he should have seen that.

"Aunt Edith. She almost turned me out because if it got out... we called it off a while ago, and Auntie said she'd let me stay if I convinced her, it was over between us, which it was." They just sat in silence, till she found the courage to speak again.

"I know why you came up here. I know it was wrong, what Connie did. It was wrong of me to just stand there. I couldn't do anything. I'm not as strong or brave as you or the boys or Mama. I always wanted to be like you, and the boys. I know how I should be brave in certain situations but not...losing someone who...you were in love with...because you never...You must be so disappointed, and I feel so ashamed for loving her." She lowered her head onto his lap, wishing she was small again so she could climb into it.

"No. I am so proud of you! It takes all the courage in the world to admit to your mistakes. But...listen to me darling, Charlotte wasn't one of them. She made you happy. And you should never ever feel guilty about loving someone."

She sat up, this time in disbelief of what she was hearing. "You're...you're not angry with me? You don't despise me?"

Then he spoke the words he had said to his wife all those years ago, "I could never despise you." He kissed the top of her head. "I've always known you were different Josephine." He smiled and stroked her hair. "Because I've always understood you best."

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling in response to his unconditional love. She got up onto the bed, leaning into him. He put his arms around her; the two of them remaining that way for a while.

"I should have never had said that to you, Papa. I'm not embarrassed of you. I'm still angry about the first war, that it took a part of you away, a part of you that I should have known."

Tears welled up in his own eyes. He wished she could have known that part of him too. The man that should be here, not this imposter. "I'm still here. I'm still your Papa."

"You'll always be my Papa."

No matter what I do, he will always love me. The only person I can ever truly count on, who believes in one day he will be gone.

But in this moment, and from now on, she will cherish him always.


Mary stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. She was fifty-two but according to her husband, looked forty. The skin under her chin, neck and jaw were still tight, firm and youthful looking. There was a little thickness round her waist but that was expected for middle-aged women, and she was still going through the change of life. It had hit her hard. She was past her prime, no longer able to have children.

They'd be married and have family of their own in a few years. She had been saddened that they hadn't had anymore. If they had, he or she would have been at least ten years old, the same age as Nathaniel. But it wasn't meant to be. She focused her energies on Jay (not so much anymore now that he was fifteen, in just seven months he'd be sixteen.) as well help running the convalescence and the estate.

Now it was her daughters turn, in their budding youth. Maybe that was why she felt somewhat awkward in their presence, and their dear father, not used to their changing bodies and the concept of their fast-approaching womanhood. Gone were their childish features. It was as if they had changed overnight, as if they were cocooned, emerging from their chrysalis, bursting forth, and she had missed it.

Matthew was the only one who didn't seem to change at all, except for the lines around his eyes and forehead had deepened, his hair greying at the sides.

Her lady's maid entered to get her dressed for the morning.

"I'll go with brown; I think. No, the green. The one from Paris." She had bought it years ago, but it would have to do.

"It's lovely! You'll look absolutely stunning. It'll cheer up his lordship!"

"What do you mean?"

"Uh...nothing. My lady. It'll make him notice you. Not that he doesn't. I'm sorry if I overstepped, my ladyship."

"No, not at all." There was gossip about how they gave their servants too many liberties and let their daughters do whatever they want, making them wild, except Josephine, in their eyes, she could do no wrong, that the eldest earls daughter should be an example to them. They did not listen to those people.

She looked beautiful in the pale green, suiting her complexion. Matthew was taking his coffee in the morning room. He was quick to comment on it.

"You certainly look radiant this morning! New frock?"

"Yes." She lied. How could he not remember? He was with her when she bought it. Men, she supposed. She couldn't stay mad at him.

"Do you like it?"

"Stunning, I must say." He went back to work on the papers sprawled out before him.

She tried to think of what else to say but nothing came. Was that all they had to say to each other? Where they really back to this, this terrible silence between them in the first few years of the Great war? They didn't talk much about the war or their son unless he'd written them.

"I can go. I see that you're busy." She turned to leave.

"No! Stay." He motioned to the chair beside him, but she chose to remain standing.

"What are you working on?"

"There was a murder involving a rich widow and her chauffeur."

"Who murdered whom?"

"He did her in."

"I didn't know you were going back into criminal law."

"I'm not. This case requires my expertise, a matter of a forged will."

"Seems there's a lot of that happening." Recalling the case involving a stolen will a few years ago. She had helped with the woman to convince her that Matthew was on her side and wanted to help her.

"People are greedy and desperate. It's disturbing what people think they can get away with, using the war as a distraction to commit crimes." He shook his head, dipped his pen in the ink well and scribbled something on paper, probably his signature.

"It won't be too much to take on?"

"No. I won't be taking it on myself."

"I heard you pacing round your dressing room all night. I could hear the squeaky wheels of your chair. We'll see if there's anything to be done about it or we could look into a new one."

"It was nothing, really. Just indigestion and a bit of restlessness. I've been restless all week actually."

"Oh?" She sounded surprised but she knew it was one of his symptoms. Though not sever as they once where he would tell her if he was suffering episodes again or if it were the nightmares. He had made a promise in the beginning not to hide it from her. "I can call the doctor, have the chemist prescribe something."

"No. I'm fine. You know how I feel about drugs."

"That was years ago."

"I'm quite alright." He was smiling through, trying not to give in to the depression.

"You're obviously not. If the case is too much for you, you could always refer it to someone else. I know they all adore you there, they would love to take it off your hands."

He put up his hand to stop her, then took off his glasses to rub his eyes.

"Mary, I need to do this. I know you know why." Yes, she did. "I can't help him. I need to do something useful. I need to keep working. I can't just sit around wondering if that letter is ever going to come. "

The telegram that would tell them that their son was dead. He was safe, out of harm's way. For the moment.

"If I can help this family..." He started but broke off into silence. He whipped his brow, covering his eyes again before putting his glasses back on.

She nodded and left the room.

The rest of the house was waking up. He looked up to see his daughter's bustle into the room, joining him for breakfast.

"Where's mama?" Kate asked. " isn't she joining us?"

"She decided to have breakfast in bed today." Without looking at his daughter he took a swig of coffee.

It was cold and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Andy is late as usual." One of his daughters said.


Over dinner that night they received news from George, which wasn't much but it was still news. George had ended his engagement to Sophie in January of 1944, on New Year's. He had sent another letter to the family announcing it and that he'd be getting off on leave, just in time to coincide with Kate's coming out party, that would be on the seventh.

The third of January, Kate's birthday, knowing the family would be distracted, Andy had secretly enlisted, lying about his age. He wouldn't be eighteen until four months. Unlike his brother he was not willing to wait.

There was anger from his parents at first. They had been wondering where he had been all day, what he'd been up to. He told them the truth.

"I signed up."

"I was just at the war office this morning." His father said. "I didn't see you."

"I went to the enlisting office in the next village over so no one would notice me."

"You're not even of age yet...how did you.." His mother didn't have to give it further thought. "You lied about your age."

"That's right. How else do you think they'd let me?" He was starting to grow angry. Most of it was being fueled by his father's silence.

"What do you think running away will achieve?" Mary asked him, scolding him like he was five years old again.

"I'm not running away. I didn't tell you I was signing up because I knew how you'd react. I'm doing what you taught us to do. I'm doing my duty!" How could they be so hypocritical?

"Of course, you are." His father replied.

"I can't go back on it now. How would that look? It would be dishonest."

"You were being dishonest to begin with by lying!" His mother pointed out, showing her disapproval. As if making a point that he wasn't grown up enough, that he didn't think things through. This was his chance to prove them wrong.

"You don't think I'm grown up enough. Tell me what difference a few months will make?"

"I know you're sorry..." Matthew began. He had been hoping to avoid this, at least till after those few precious months, till he had to send another son off to war. But he was nearly a man now. He couldn't stop him. A man couldn't go back on his duty, his oath.

"No. I'm not. You always talked about doing our duty, that we shouldn't stand by when something we know is wrong, and we should stand up when we can help, when something is right. This is right! I can't stay back, while all those people die. I'm old enough. I've waited long enough!"

He could see how angry Andy was. He had a short fuse sometimes as his mother and Josephine, but it took longer for him to let it go.

"I know you're ready." He said to his son.

Andy could only exhale to try to calm himself. Father would support him, that didn't mean he liked it. Andy appreciated that. But he was still angry. Maybe with the training and the few months away, he could blow off steam.

Watching Andy try to control his anger, it made him look like a man. He would be one when he returned. He wanted to hug his son, what remained of the little boy before it disappeared, but he would just turn away. He had already been 'too old' for hugs since he was ten. Though he had hugged his brother goodbye when they had all seen him off. Andy gave his father a nod and shook his hand, embracing his mother. Perhaps just too old for his father.

He left the next morning before the servants and the family woke, only leaving a note. The maid had discovered it as she cleaned his room, sending the whole household into a panic, Matthew the only one appearing calm.

Mary took it hastily from the older woman and handed it to her husband. Kate was coming out of her room.

"Did you know about this?" Her father demanded.

"Know about what?" She noticed the parchment in his hand. "What's that?"

"Your brother has left."

"Left where? Did you read it yet? That might say where he is." She scanned the letter. Something about honor and duty, and that he wasn't alone.

"It says he isn't alone. I think I know who he's with!" She took off down the hall and ran down the stairs to make a phone call.

Matthew read it silently, then without a word or looking at it again, folded it and put it into his top pocket, and walked down the hall.

He headed toward the lift.

"Hello, is anyone home?" He heard his oldest daughter call out.

Jo heard the lift descending. When she rounded the corner, she saw her father came toward her.

"Did you know about this?"

"Know about what?" He was brandishing a piece of parchment.

"Where were you?"

"I was at a teachers conference."

"How bloody convenient for you!" He set the paper on the table and wheeled. She picked it up.

Her mother told her that he wasn't angry with her. "He's trying to find somebody to blame."


As they sat down to dinner, Kate was the last to join them, storming into the room.

"I knew it!" She exclaimed. She told her parents that she had telephoned the Bates. She had had a sneaking suspicion that he had run off with Johnny Bates. It wasn't that far of a stretch, considering how close they've always been. Anna Bates had confirmed that her son had also left a note. They had planned to meet on the train.

"Apparently, they've been planning this for a long time. Even if we did know about it there would have been no stopping them."

"At least they are together." Carrie said.

Mary opened her mouth as if to say something.

"We couldn't have stopped him no more than we could have George." Matthew said to his wife, agreeing with his daughters.


Sybil had gotten back into the 'real' nursing as soon as possible, almost after a year. She liked attending the sisters in the ambulance, but her heart wasn't just in it anymore. She needs a change of pace, 'a change of scenery' or she felt she'd go insane.

"Admit it, you had missed me." Dr. Evans said, he was suturing an unconscious patient's arm wound.

"Yeah, you wish. I felt that assisting and fixing ambulances wasn't where I'm supposed to be." It was so strange that they were exchanging pleasantries when at first, they could hardly stand each other.

"I would like to introduce you to someone you might like."

"Oh?" Was he playing matchmaker now?

"She reminds me a lot like you."

"She?"

He eyed her curiously. "Yes. She delivers books and care packages for the soldiers. Just started last week. She couldn't help but debate with me her modern ideas of feminism. There's no changing her mind."

"Sounds like my kind of person."

She and Olivia Weston had become close friends the past year, seeing each other almost every day. Making her rounds, Olivia would be delivering baskets of toiletries and books, sometimes even sweets and every now and then would read to the soldiers, conscious or not. Sybil asked her why she did it.

"I think some can hear you, depending. Oh, you were just testing me!"

They had made fast friends.

One day in the early months of January 1944, she was in surgery with Dr. Evans.

Nurse Shepard came in with a letter addressed to her, with a grim expression. As she made her way toward her, she felt like she would faint, her heart constricting.

Please. Please don't let it be George or Uncle Matthew.

As she read it she was relived but still felt like she was going to faint. Thank goodness there was a chair nearby.

"What is it? It's not somebody you know?"

"My cousin. Andrew. He signed up without telling anyone and now he's run off. He was gone the next morning, no one could find him. He's only seventeen."

The doctor took off his gloves. He and Shep sat beside her.

"Oh Sybil, I'm so sorry." Shep said, wanting to hug her friend.

She didn't seem to hear.

"Oh, Killian!" She leaned her body into his, let herself sink into it as he placed his arms around her. It felt like it was just her and him, and no one else, the world didn't exist.

After a second, she pulled away, their eyes locking, not noticing Shep slip away.

Did he feel it too?


The house was quieter without him, his absence felt. They were worried about his carelessness, how it could potentially get himself killed but he still had some sense to pull himself out of situations before he went too far. He would have to grow up quick out there. The girls were growing up in their own ways.

Kate met Jack Heaton, a twenty-four year old, RAF pilot, while making her rounds one morning in those early days of January. He was embarrassed that he just had a measly cold, but he would be sent back to the front once he received a clean bill of health.

"I don't think I'd want to be a teacher, like my sister Josephine." She had been living with Aunt Edith for some time for a reason she would not say. Before she returned to her old teaching post and on the weekends, she did the exchange, when Connie was not. She seemed to be at odd's with Papa. There was an unspoken silence between them. She'd been acting a bit odd lately too. A friend of hers, they had never heard of before, Charlotte, had been killed when the ship she'd been traveling on had been torpedoed. Of course, it was understandable. Maybe that's why she had gone away. Not long after, Josephine had started seeing a Duke, Oliver Claiborne.

Papa had seemed to cheer up at this but was not particularly thrilled about the man. Maybe he'd been worried about her prospects. Jo had never really been interested in marriage or any man. Kate had thought of marriage, she was after all nineteen, nearing twenty, but not when there was a war on. She wanted to focus her interests elsewhere at the moment, what she would want to do with her future. If there was a future. The war was giving women all sorts of opportunities when it came to jobs. "I'd like to try being a nurse. I don't know if I'd be any good but at least I'd know I'm doing something worthwhile."

"You got good bedside manner. That's a start." Jack replied. "Raising a soldier's spirits."

"It certainly raises mine. Mama thought it was about the upcoming party."

"There's going to be a party?" He perked up at this. He was probably tired of lying-in bed, starting at the same four walls.

"I just turned twenty."

"Crickey, almost a baby! I'm twenty-four. Just turned myself."

"That accent sounds familiar. Where is it that you're from?"

"Australia. Emigrated there with my parents and my brother when we were kids. But I'm still an Englishman at heart."

"What it is you do in Australia? When you're not flying planes?"

"My parents are landowners. I help with the investments. I'm an accountant." Kate smiled. He could be a good asset to Downton. Lawyers and accountants go hand and hand. And her mother was also good with numbers. Why was she thinking all this? It's not like he'll stick around. When he goes back, she'll probably never hear from him again. "I think there will be big investments in airplanes after the war. They'd be used more from travel. There will be lots of money to be made." She was interested in his ideas. But it also seemed a ridiculous notion about people using planes just to get from place to place, "they'd be more efficient than boats, cars or trains for long distance travel, just imagine you could get to one side of the world in matter hours rather than days." He was saying now. She liked that he could think of the future, in this bleak world of war. "When is this party of yours?"

"The end of the week. That reminds me, I should get going. My dress fitting is today. Mama will be in a frenzy. I'll see you tomorrow."

She came like she had promised.

"You're a sight for sore eyes. I was just writing to my mother about you." He set down his pen and paper on the nightstand.

"Good things I hope."

"How elegant, sophisticated and what a dazzling beautiful woman you are."

"Don't make me blush." He shouldn't be flirting with her, and she shouldn't acknowledge it. "There's a war on. It makes anyone think nonsense." That didn't stop her from her asking him "Look Mr. Heaton..."

"Call me Jack."

"I shall not." She retorted, rebuffing him. "I was wondering...I wanted to invite you to my party."

"That would depend on who's all attending." She knows he's having her on.

"Just a bunch of socialite snobs and a few boys from the village but they're school age. We're short of men, and I've already squired it away with Mama, that It'd be alright if I invited some of the officers."

"I wouldn't know how to behave. I haven't been introduced to that sort of thing." He didn't want to embarrass her. A farm boy turned accountant still wasn't impressive enough.

"Neither was my papa at first, he's a solicitor and my Uncle Tom was the chauffeur. You'll be fine."

"What a strange family you have for a Lady." She smiled at that. You have no idea.

She feels like she could kiss him. She waits for the urge to pass. "So, is that a yes?"

"An affirmative yes." He said after a moment. "I guess I can suffer anything to be with you."

Jay was making his way over. He would often come to visit Downton to listen to the soldiers talk, especially the pilots. He was fascinated by planes. He was only sixteen. Hopefully war would not catch up to him, Kate desperately hoped. It had already come for Andy, not even eighteen. Even he might not be untouched. He had come over to talk with Jack, the only other person the pilot enjoyed talking to.

She heard them talk as she briskly walked away.


They were surprised that Sybie, now going by Sybil, was coming home on leave from France. She volunteered for the Voluntary Aid Detachment as a nurse, serving at the front. She hadn't told them ahead of time, except for Kate. Despite their age difference of three years, they had become friends after all. They had the same interests and modern views. Sybie was more outspoken on her political opinions just like her mother and father.

Kate had come up the drive with her, their arms linked, suitcase in the other.

"Mama, look who's just arrived!"

Of course, Mary was hovering like a mother hen over her niece. "Sybie, dear, what a surprise!" She still called her Sybie, it was strange to call her by her late sister's name. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming? We'd have made up a room for you. I can have Flora..."

"Don't worry about it Auntie Mary. I'm used to sleeping anywhere by now."

"I heard of some of your harrowing adventures from Kate and George." The two Crawley siblings were the closest to Sybie. "Your papa must be so worried."

"Actually, he's quite proud of me, following in Mama's footsteps." They walked out of the Great Hall and into the tearoom. "I might even consider on become a doctor."

"A woman doctor?" Kate was enthralled but at the same time doubtful, "there's not very many of those."

"A lot will change after the fighting. It did after the last war."

"I don't think it will change that much." Mary showed her own doubt. She went over to ring the bell, "i'll have Flora make up a bedroom."

"Syb and I can take care of it, Mama. We'll take the bags up to my room."

"Not without hugging your uncle first." Matthew stood in the doorway, outstretching his arms.

"Uncle Matthew!" Sybil rushed to receive his hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"That's the only reason you came right?" He asked her teasingly.

Then the two girls, or young women, he should say, ran up the stairs.


Kate and Sybil piled the suitcases in the corner of her room. Kate kicked off her shoes and plopped on the bed, lying back for a moment.

When Sybil sat on the bed, Kate sat up.

"So, will there be any nice chaps?" Sybil asked, turning to her cousin.

"A few officers. Any reason?"

Sybil shrugged, "Will there be any decent young ladies attending?"

"It will be a total snob fest."

"Good. There won't be much competition then."

Kate sat up straighter, "Why? What are you planning?"

"George sounded so mopey in his letters. I wanted to cheer him up by bringing a friend of mine. If that's alright with you. If not, I can tell her that plans changed. I don't want to steal your thunder."

"Of course not. I'll be glad to get some of the limelight off me." If it would cheer George up, and it would be a good excuse to spend time with Jack, away from prying eyes.

"What about you? Is there anyone that you're smitten with?"

"Not exactly. Besides it won't work. I don't think it would be wise."

"Alright, now you've got me curious. Who is he? Is he one of the officers?"

"He's an RAF pilot. And he's Australian but he was born in England, he immigrated there with his family when he was young. His family own a lot of farmland, and he's an accountant when he's back home. But it won't work. We're not even in the same social circle."

"My parents weren't. Your Aunt and Uncle. If it's true love like theirs, do you really think Aunt Mary and Uncle Matthew won't accept it?"

"No. But...he'll move back to Australia after the war. I'll probably never see him again. And he'll forget me."

"Let's say if you could. Would you go with him if he asked?"

Kate frowned, shrugging. "Maybe. But it will never happen."

"Never say never. That's my motto."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Kate laid back again, huffing out a breath of air, blowing a strand of hair of her forehead. She changed the subject. "It's just so frustrating and boring here. It's like my life means nothing but social events and parties. I want to do something. Now that I'm twenty, I want to contribute, play my part."

"You want to join the VAD, volunteer as a nurse like me?"

"I've been thinking about it. But I won't be going to France. I don't think papa could handle it. All of his children being away, and I don't want to encourage Carrie."

"My father doesn't worry. He's been handling it well."

"Yes, well, he doesn't have two sons, fighting in the thick of it, does he?" He didn't suffer the trauma of it because he didn't serve." Kate sighed. "He has nightmares. But he gets on alright. He doesn't let it disrupt his life."

"I'm so sorry, Katie." She understands her cousin is hurting. She hadn't thought.

"No. I should be the one to apologize. Uncle Tom must be just as worried, having you out at the front." She hadn't been the one thinking. Sybil was an only child. The feeling must be worse, knowing that your only child was putting their life at risk, and could die at any moment.

They didn't speak for a short time, "but they certainly do need nurses here at home. Let me know when you're ready and I can put you in touch with the right people."

The maid came calling. "A Miss Weston has arrived for Miss Sybil."


Kate had been fitted for her dress, while the other girls had to use their own, which they hardly thought were good enough. Such an event called for new dresses but the dressmakers in town were running short on fabric and most of the seamstresses had joined the war effort, making uniforms for the soldiers.

"Mama, you can't really expect us to wear these." Jo had a ghastly look on her face. "These frocks are at least thirty years old!"

"You'll just have to make do." Her mother smirked, closing the door and left them to it.

Olivia Weston took out a pink dress and held it up to her. "At least I know which one I won't be wearing." With her complexion she thought she looked horrible in that color.

Olivia had been friends with Sybil for quite some time. They had met each other through their father's, who had been doing business together. Mr. Weston ran a bank in Ripon. Matthew hadn't met him in person yet, only spoke to him on the phone. Weston was not a likable man, yet not unbearably unpleasant, but he got the job done when you saw eye to eye with him. Tom and Matthew were meant to meet him in person that weekend after the party, but Mr. Weston was unable to attend and would reschedule for another time. Olivia was the opposite of her father, polite and sweet. She was short with brown hair and brown eyes. A modern woman like Sybil. She supposed that was why they got along so well.

Her sisters began to tease her about Lord Wroughton.

"I heard Lord Wroughton is coming." Carrie said.

"Of course, he will be. Mama practically invited everyone." Jo's tone had an annoyed edge to it. She had always found Roy Reiner to be annoying and a bit pathetic, pinning after her sister when it was clear that she didn't reciprocate his feelings. A dangerous game, feelings. Even more dangerous, love.

"Who's Lord Wroughton?" Olivia asked with curiosity. Carrie had sounded amused by the thought of this gentlemen's mere presence.

"We've all known each other since we were children." She explained. "He used to come up to the house to play with us, but I think it was only an excuse to see Kate."

"He has a massive crush on you." Carrie said, in a teasing voice.

"He does not!" Kate exclaimed; the very reason she didn't believe it. She had never had those feelings toward Roy or seen anything to indicate that he did. So, he mustn't toward her.

"Just you watch. He'll be salivating at you in the corner, with you wearing that dress." Carrie said. "I think he's in love with you."

"Don't be daft. He doesn't like me that way."

"Sybil, what do you think?"

She ignored Jo's question, reaching into the closet. "Here, try this one." She took out a blue frock and held it up to Olivia. "I think it would go great." It was George's favorite shade of blue.

"I suppose that one doesn't look too bad." Josephine said. "Oh, here's one just like it." She grabbed it before Carrie could, who scowled at her older sister. Josephine smiled over her triumph, holding the dress close to her out of her younger sister's reach.

"I'll wear one of mine anyway." Carrie said confidently. "The one I wore last year."

"You mean that plain one you wore to my party?" Jo asked. "It was incredibly embarrassing..."

Carrie started for the door, clearly fuming but more upset.

"Good luck attracting a man in that." Jo inclined her head to watch her retreat.

"Oh honestly, Jo." Sybil sighed.

"What? I was being honest. Sometimes your harshest critic is your best friend."


George and Olivia seemed to hit it off well. Sybil was sure she sensed a spark between them.

Olivia denied it, "A man has never really taken interest in me and probably never will. Men are scared of modern and intelligent women." The two young women were sitting at a table.

"You clearly haven't met my Aunt Mary. And George is different. He isn't like that."

Olivia shifted her eyes, pushing food around on her plate. "I don't think he really noticed."

"Oh, come on now, Oliver."

"Oliver?" Matthew came over to join them.

" Oh, she sometimes teases me. You see I was supposed to be Oliver Jr. I was expected to be a boy. I suppose that's why my father has such confidence in me, helping with the books." The more nervous she gets, the more she talks, a rapid-fire response.

"Oh?" Matthew's voice was filled with intrigue.

"For the bank."

Sybil noticed his confused look. There must have been a miscommunication somewhere. They hadn't been introduced yet. She jumped in the conversation, "Uncle Matthew, this is Miss Olivia Weston. Her father owns a bank in Ripon?" She was asking him, but she meant it as a reminder.

"Ah, yes. I do business with your father."

"Yes. That's how Sybil and I met. I'm so sorry father was unable to attend this weekend. He was a bit under the weather."

"No worries. We re-scheduled another time."

"I don't want you to think he sent me in his place. I don't think he's quite that bold yet. He's awfully discrete about it. I think mainly because he doesn't want anyone to know that it's a woman who manages the books."

"It won't be like that for long." Sybil said.

"What do you mean?" Olivia asked.

"I think quite a lot of women will be holding a job that men normally would, after the war. We've lost so many men; women will have to fill all manner of jobs." She immediately sensed her uncle's discomfort and changed the subject. "Speaking of books, Olivia loves to read."

"Does she?" They all turned to George who had made his way over. "I was wondering if you would like to accompany to me to the library, Miss Weston?"

"I would love to."

"I'll be their chaperone." Sybil got up from her chair.

Kate came to sit with her father, after several attempts at avoiding Roy's offers to dance.

"Where are they off too?" Kate asked. She didn't really care. She just needed a distraction. Roy wouldn't come over here. He had always been shy around her father. She was slightly hurt, hoping that papa's limited mobility, and sometimes use of a wheelchair was the issue.

Roy had been terrified of it as a child and would not go near him. Roy's mother, Lady Cecelia, had to nearly force him. Roy's brother Ivo would often taunt him, silently, by sitting on papa's lap like the other children and only had one year old. He was here too but had made no attempt to acknowledge Kate, not even to say a happy birthday. What mattered most to her was her number one. Her papa. Mama was upstairs with a head cold and could not join the festivities. And was not too pleased that she couldn't come down to bear witness to her handy work. But that didn't mean Papa couldn't enjoy himself.

He was wearing his leg braces tonight so that he'd be able to dance.

"The library." Her father said.

"That's interesting." She said as she saw Sybil following George and Olivia out of the hall, a man was following after her, or it appeared that way. Sybil could handle him or George but surly it wouldn't come to that.

After their dinner, the band started playing, her father stood up. "I think it's only right that I claim the first dance with my daughter?" He held out her hand and led her out on the dance floor. She wished she could get out of it and join the others, but he'd be so sad if she didn't besiege his request. And she felt a bit embarrassed as she was a grown woman, dancing with her father. She remembered dancing with him as a child, how'd she'd have her feet on the toes of his shoes. All of us girls had done.

"It's hard to believe that you're a woman now." He said, looking at her proudly. He was proud of all his children. He could die happy right now, if only his sons weren't in the middle of fighting a war, and at least not without a grandchild or two.

"You've still got Carrie." Only he still called her Caroline as he was the only one to still call her Katie.

"She's got a few years yet." He agreed. "I think the party is going well, don't you?"

"Exquisite." Kate didn't know where this was going. It was clear he had something on this mind. Either he was trying to avoid it or he was trying to find a way to say it.

"It's a shame Andy couldn't get time off for leave in order to attend." She spoke.

"Admit you're honestly glad. He'd be making a show, breaking all these young ladies' hearts."

"Half of them probably deserve it."

The next song played, and he changed the subject.

"Your mother was in a frightful state about tonight. That some soldier would whisk you away...before she could present you to the finest men of her choosing."

"I got other things on my mind."

"I told her as such. I was worried a bit too. Now I think it was a good idea, don't you?"

Kate nods.

They danced in silence to the music, "So have you been enjoying yourself?"

"Immensely."

He smiled, enjoying the night himself, yet she could tell he was deeply troubled. About her? About the boys?

"One of the soldiers has already caught your eye, I take it?" He gave her a wink.

"It's just a bit of fun papa."

"My dear Katie, you know you cannot lie to me." He probably followed her gaze to where Jack is sitting. "Wait, if you can, till after the war. To get married. I want you to be happy, but I want you to protect your heart. At least until peace time. Which will be soon. The Americans have been beating back the Germans. They'll help us win."

Kate could only nod again. When they finished the second dance, she went over to where Jack was.


Olivia had marveled at the gigantic room, the walls lined with books. "Have you read every book in here?" She asked George.

"Some of them are in Greek." He smirked.

Olivia smiled back but had to look down for she felt herself blushing.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sybil asked.

Olivia nodded. She had always dreamed of owning a library like this. "It is. It's hard to imagine that places like this still exist."

The door to the library opened and they were interrupted by the presence of a stranger. He apologized and asked if he could have a dance with Sybil before the night was out. He'd been afraid that he wouldn't catch her in time, so he had followed her.

She graciously agreed. "Behave you two." She giggled at them.

On their way back to the great hall she got to telling him, when she came across Kate, who was heading to the front door. Probably to get fresh air. Caught up in the moment, she didn't seem to notice Jack. She knew he was there but didn't take much interest. "Sorry to ditch you like this. But I got preoccupied and then...See that nice fellow over there? That's Sir Hugh Stanhill. He goes by Henry. He's a book publisher from Berkshire. And he's just asked me to dance!"

"What about your Irish..." Olivia started, she thought there had been something between them.

"He made it very clear he isn't interested. Why not take a chance on someone who is? Am I right?" She asked the man linking arms with Kate.

Kate cleared her throat, "Sybil, this is Jack."

"Oh. Your Australian. Well, you see it all worked out."

"What worked out?"

"You'll see."

Jo interested them to the duke, who was walking toward them.

"Looks like we don't have to call you Oliver anymore." Sybil said to Olivia, awfully cheery. She probably had a few to drink.


After their walk on the grounds, Kate joined her sister, minus Josephine, (she was off to who knows where doing who knows what) and her cousin Sybil and her new friend, Sir Stanhill. Jack had finally made his way back into the house. He thought she didn't want to be seen with him, so he started to walk past them a bit annoyed. He thought he had scared her off by kissing her too soon, she had been startled. She had been in a hurry to get back to the house, making an excuse that her guests would worry. He was starting to wonder if he had imagined it all.

But then she waved him over.

Jack introduced Caroline, teasingly on her request, that'd he'd have to introduce her to his officer friends, He introduced her to his RAF Captain. Instantly there was something there between them.

The captain took interest in Henry, knowing his family was in the publishing business.

"Sir Hugh Stanhill, is it?"

"I go by Henry. Hugh Stanhill is my father."

"Yes, I think I've heard of him. Your family owns a publishing company?"

"That's right."

"We'll let you two get acquainted." Sybil said. She and Olivia stood to the side while the two men talked, while Kate and Carrie chatted, in the distance. They two had dismissed themselves, we'll just be over here. There's something I want to talk to Carrie about."

"I think he's great." Carrie was saying to Kate.

To which her sister replied, "I think he's bit too old for you."

"There won't be that many young men around after the war."

"Even so..."

"There's one thing you have in common Oliver." Sybil said, talking over them. They were both named after their father's. "I don't think he's very much into reading though."

"That's alright. Not remotely interested." Olivia caught her friend's gaze, you think you might be?"

Sybil didn't have to answer, she looked completely awe struck as she gazed at Henry.

The girls came back into the fold to rejoin Henry as the Captain had to leave for the night. Caroline followed, wanting to ask him something. As they went out, Josephine was coming in, finally deciding to join the party. No one probably noticed or cared that she had been gone most of the night. She was twenty-one and capable of her own decisions.

Kate had noticed her. She probably had been hiding out somewhere with the butler's son, Kate guested.

Henry witnessed one of Josephine's 'moods', making a fuss at one of the servants. The servant was a young girl that appeared no more than fifteen. Josephine had her in tears and the girl ran from the room.

"And you say she's a teacher?" He said it unbelievably.

"She's incredibly nice to the children than anyone else." Kate replied. "When she's with Mama and Papa she's a complete angel."

As the night winded down, everyone said their goodbyes.

"Will I see you again?" Sybil asked as Henry was second to last out the door. Carrie was still in the corner, talking with the Captain.

"If we are meant to cross paths again." Henry replied.

"I hope I didn't disappoint."

"No, not at all."

"I meant with the dancing." She didn't really mean the dancing. She was worried that he was quickly losing interest.

"Oh." He sounded a bit flustered. She doubted that he was one that was hardly ever to. "You will write to me?" Or one to so darling hope.

"Yes." She said, her eyes lighting up. "Of course."

Carrie practically skipped over to them. "I got a job!"

"What?" Surprise from Josephine.

"It's just pouring tea for the RAF officers, since I'm not old enough for anything else yet. But it's a job!"


It was his last day before his leave was over. He'd be leaving in the morning. He hadn't seen Josephine most of that day. He was hoping to see her before he was off.

They met up in the drawing room, later that night. George was sitting in a chair, reading a newspaper, waiting for her like a disappointed parent. "And where have you been?" He was a bit upset but in fact, in times like these he wouldn't know what he would do without his sister. He had always looked up to her. Not only was she warm, loving, (to most people she was far from it, but not to him) and wise. She told things how they were with a truthful bluntness. He trusted her and took her advice, even though he was the oldest.

"I had to rescue Billy."

"What did he do now?"

She described what condition he was in when she had to pick him up from a pub. "It's obvious he'd been in a fight. He's staying at my cottage." She had one rented out, connected to the schoolhouse in the village. "I couldn't well sneak him back into the servants' quarters like that."

"Honestly, I don't know what you see in him. You have a habit of choosing people who are completely wrong for you."

"We're not seeing each other. And you could talk. How are things going with Sophie?"

"I called it off. For good this time." He added, when she gave him a look like she didn't believe it. "She only wanted to marry for my title. She told me once my life bored her, and she had no interest living in the country. She'd marry me, we'd have our heir than she'd be free to join the party scene and travel to exotic places, she's so fascinated by. After the war of course."

"Did she actually say that?"

He nodded.

"Wow." And she thought that she was a real piece of work.

"That's why I broke things off." He said.

"Good, now you have the good sense to not go back to her. Is there anyone else you have on your mind, or do you want to live foot loose and fancy free?"

"For the time being. There doesn't seem to be anyone I fancy."

"What about Miss Weston? She seems rather nice and genuine."

"Olivia? I think of her as more as a friend."

"You'll meet someone you really like, Georgie. When you least expect it." She went over to the wine cabinet and poured herself a glass.

"How do you know? Is there anyone else on your mind?"

"Not particularly, no."

"What about your Mr. Parker?" He gave her a glance.

"It didn't pan out." She picked up her glass, draining its contents. She's at the bottom of the ocean. Food for the fishes. Maybe if she had convinced her to stay in the village, or she could have run away with her. But then she would be at the bottom of the ocean. What would that have done to Papa? He already had two sons and a niece to worry about.

"And your Duke? You're still seeing him?"

"What do you think? He's the only realistic option. I've told you. If nothing else comes along."

It seemed happiness was far away to them, with failed attempts at love, wondering if they'd ever find it. They were expected to. They were uncertain what they wanted for themselves. This war had turned their world upside down.