Mary returned to her room, still unsure over what had happened. Her own emotions had surprised her and she was rather cross as she rang for Anna to help her change. She didn't feel in control, and she didn't like it when she wasn't in control.
Anna could tell something was amiss, but Lady Mary wasn't ready to confide in her. Anna suspected the cause must be Mr. Branson, but knew better than to press.
Back in the nursery, Tom watched the children and thought over what had happened. Or nearly happened. He had very nearly kissed Mary back at the office. If old Mason hadn't happened upon them at that very moment he would have. Why was he suddenly having these impulses? Mary was his sister-in-law and he had honestly never thought of her romantically before.
Or had he?
She was his best friend and if he was completely honest, she had been on his mind more than anyone else. He had missed her so much in Boston that he had packed up Sybbie and returned. He had told himself that it was homesickness, but it was Mary. Being near her made him feel at home. She was the one he wrote to the most, she was the one he had missed the most. He wasn't at home in Boston because she wasn't there.
"I love her," he said aloud. He couldn't quite accept it, but he had said it. He loved Mary. And not just loved, he was IN LOVE. He was in love with Mary.
Sybbie turned to him in surprise. Tom's eyes widened as he realized his daughter had heard him. "Who do you love, Daddy?" she asked.
"I love you, sweetheart," he said, covering his declaration as best he could. Sybbie smiled and turned back to George. Tom took a step backwards and wondered over his saying it out loud. He loved Mary. Somehow it had happened, and there would be no denying it now.
But what next?
Tom walked back to his own room shortly thereafter in complete bewilderment. The realization that he loved Mary did not make things simple. She was still his sister-in-law and on top of it, she was avoiding him. He supposed he'd have to tell her, but what would her reaction be? She had been so confused when he kissed her, and then angry. If he told her he loved her all of her shields would go up.
His eyes fell on the photograph he kept at his bedside. "Oh, Sybil," he looked at her smiling face, "please help me."
Oddly, he felt a sense of calm come over him. He supposed he should feel guilty, admitting – even if only to himself – that he had developed feelings for his late wife's sister… Yet he didn't feel guilty. In fact, he felt… what was the word? Approval. Sybil would not have approved of Edna, nor Sarah, he realized. But Mary? Tom felt he could almost hear her laugh.
"Well," he said to the photograph with a smile, "with your blessing then, I know what I have to do."