Sorry about the many grammar mistakes I made in this fanfiction. English is not my native language ! But I hope you'll enjoy it !

Mary

Snowflakes were gently dropping on her bare shoulders. Despite the freshness of the winter, she had never felt such warmth in her whole being. Her hazel eyes were lost into the ocean of blue that was the look of the man she had loved for so many years. He approached her while staring at her intently, then gently grabbed her gloved hands. Uncontrollable smiles were outlined on their two faces pinked by the cold. "Oh Mary –" he said emotionally, admiring her up and down as if she was the most precious thing in this world. She did not know what to say as the joy spread throughout her body and smothered her with happiness. "Mary –" he repeated tenderly. "Mary – "

"Lady Mary?" a familiar voice echoed nearby.

All of this idyllic setting vanished in a split second and Mary abruptly opened her eyes. The light of day piercing between the curtains blinded her. She quickly realized that her maid was at her bedside and was watching her waking up with an amused smile.

"Anna?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"You have slept well, Lady Mary" she replied cheerfully, placing her breakfast tray over her legs as she helped her sitting up in bed.

"Why do you say that ?" Mary asked, looking for the clock. "What time is it ?"

"The eleven o'clock has just sounded, my Lady."

"So late ?!" she exclaimed before giving out a tired sigh and starting on her croissant.

"It surprises me, you are usually so early in the morning" she admitted, starting to study Mary's wardrobe. "What would you like to wear today?"

"Nothing too extravagant, I have nothing special planned today, I simply go to the office to retrieve some papers about the estate. The pale blue satin dress will do just fine."

"Very well my Lady," Anna replied, carefully arranging the dress in question on the back of a chair. "As usual, ring me when you are finished eating."

Then the maid turned around and headed for the exit door. Her hand on the handle, she turned and seemed to remember something.

"I almost forgot to tell you, Mr. Branson was looking for you this morning. He seemed to have something important to tell you."

Suddenly intrigued, Mary opened her sleepy eyes fully.

"Thank you for the information, Anna" she replied kindly, smiling at her.

Then the young woman slipped away, leaving alone a Mary now impatient to be ready to go out and worried about what Tom had of so important to convey to her.

Since the passing of Matthew and Sybil, she and Tom had built a strong relationship, as family and friends. As a brother, as a confidant, as a friend, he had always been there for her in difficult times, and he had done a great deal to make her, slowly but surely, emerge from a long and exhausting mourning. Frequently, the Lady wondered if she was returning him what he was giving her – was she enough there for him ? Following the death of Sybil, he had always been very lonely and discreet, especially during family dinners. He even seemed to have relinquished his strong political views, and spent most of his time dealing with the estate and his daughter Sybbie – which in Mary's eyes was not a bad thing.

When she was finally ready, Mary looked at herself another time in the mirror before saying :

"Thank you Anna. That will be all."

The maid gave her a benevolent smile which the Lady returned to her and she went down with the servants in the kitchen. Mary, meanwhile, went to the library and was not surprised to find her father there. At the moment she opened the door, Robert, sitting cross-legged in his favorite armchair, Isis at his feet, looked up from his newspaper.

"Ah, Mary!" he exclaimed, amused. "We began to wonder if you were going down one day."

"I was sleeping" she replied impassively, going to kiss him.

"Am I to believe that Granny exhausted you so much at the dinner last night?" he teased, looking back at the article he was reading.

"No, it is not that. To tell the truth, I do not even know why my sleep lasted so long."

Matthew's soft images caressing her gloved hands resurfaced in her mind and she knew deep down that she had, so to speak, forced her sleep to pursue her dreams alongside the man of her life.

"Nevermind," continued Mary. "Where are the others?"

"Your mother went to visit Isobel, Edith had some shopping to do in Ripon and Tom went to the office, on the latest news.

"Thank you Papa" she thanked him quickly before turning toward the door.

"Are you leaving already ?" he asked, looking up again from his newspaper.

"Yes, I am going to join Tom at the office. I have some things to retrieve."

"Alright, we will see each other later then."

She nodded, smiling at him briefly, and walked out of the library. She called for a driver to take her to the office, eager to see Tom.

Tom

While classifying the various files dealing with the future dwellings planned on the estate, Tom was thinking back to the phone call he had received in the morning. He could not help but smile slowly every time he thought about it. It was going to make her so happy.

At the very moment he had finally finished arranging the archives, the office door opened. Without even looking up, he knew who it was, since there were only two to frequent this place.

"Hello Tom" said Mary, closing the door behind her and taking off her hat.

"Hello my dear partner" he answered, beaming.

She stopped her movements and gave him a questioning look. It was true that he did not have the habit of appearing so cheerful. Yet he could not help but be happy. He certainly seemed childish, hands tied behind his back, waiting for her to take place in front of him.

Noticing his happy expression, Mary could not help but smirk.

"Well, what is it this morning that makes you so happy? Anna made me understand that you had something to tell me."

She put her jacket and hat on the coat hanger and went to sit in front of him, legs and arms crossed, her eyes staring at his, seeming to eagerly await an answer from him.

"Are you going to tell me? she said, noticing that he was not answering.

"I received a call from Lady Shackleton this morning. She will come to dinner tomorrow evening at Downton."

"And so ? How does this affect me?"

"But she does not come alone, she comes with her nephew" Tom continued, his smile widening as he spoke.

"To whom will I have the honor?" she asked with a detached air.

"You really have no idea?"

Mary seemed to think for a moment about the identity of the person in question, but ended up arching an eyebrow in denial.

"I presume you remember Henry Talbot?" he finally said, probing her eyes.

Mary's haughty expression instantly turned into an astonished and troubled look, her imperturbable features loosening. She slightly opened her lips and looked down for a brief moment, then proudly straightened her face towards him, her haughty look resuming as quickly as it had gone.

"Oh, how lovely" she said with a fake smile.

But Tom was far from being a fool. After all those years with her at Downton, he knew perfectly well that Mary had not been unmoved by the announcement, and he could easily discern a perturbed expression on her face. However, he did not say a thing about it, wanting to avoid offending her. Instead, he smiled at her and continued :

"I understood that you enjoyed his company the last time you saw each other."

Seeing Tom's teasing intonation, she arched her eyebrows again and rolled her eyes. She had perfectly understood where he was coming from.

"Tom, you are exasperating" she reprimanded him.

"Am I ?" he replied with a sneer. "I thought you would be happy to hear of his arrival to Downton."

"Oh but I am, do not worry about that," certified Mary by revealing a big fake smile. "But do not start insinuating anything about it."

"I do not see what you mean" Tom denied, looking intentionally shifty.

"Oh, of course, you do not see" she accused him in an icy tone.

Although he was used to the Lady's mood swings, he thought it best to change the subject.

"In any case, do not be surprised to see him show up tomorrow evening. I guess you were not supposed to know about his coming."

"It does not matter, simulating surprise is one of my specialties" she said.

"I know that all too well" Tom replied, smiling at her kindly.

Mary could not help but smile back and got up from her seat.

"I was first here to pick up a paper about the Drewe farm," she said, scanning the office with her eyes. "It seemed to me to have put it here."

"Ah," said Tom, spitefully. "It turns out that I just tidied up all the archives, it must be somewhere in there."

He pointed to a full to bursting bookshelf, and Mary sighed wearily. She resigned herself, however, to go toward the furniture and start searching through the piles of files.

Meanwhile, Tom, still sitting at the desk, pulled a sheet of paper and a fountain pen out of the drawer. For several weeks now he had promised himself to write to his brother who was living in Liverpool. It had been several months since they had not exchanged letters, and although the two brothers had always had some tense relations considering Tom's affiliation with the Crawley family, Kieran was still the only Branson family that remained to him. So he began to make run the ink on the paper, while Mary was still busy looking for what she had come for.

"Anyway you are wrong," she said indifferently, breaking the silence in the office. "I can not be attracted to a man like Henry Talbot."

Tom looked up suddenly from his missive to look at Mary, who had not bothered to turn to speak to him. He was both surprised and happy to see her approaching this subject again.

"Why that ?" he asked, curious.

"Cars are his greatest passion," she replied, insisting with a jaded air on the word, while leafing through a register. "And I can not appreciate a man who loves these machines."

"Am I to infer that you do not appreciate me?" retorted Tom, half offended and half amused.

Mary then put down the heavy file she was holding on the shelf and finally deigned to turn to him. She stared straight at him and raised her eyebrows.

"This question has no place, Tom. We are talking about a man to whom I could potentially marry and with whom I should spend the rest of my life, the comparison is impossible. It is obvious that I appreciate you."

Tom was touched by what he had just heard, but did not let anything appear. Instead, he smiled sarcastically and replied :

"So – You admit that there is an ambiguity in how you feel about him?"

Mary glared at him and then turned back to work with the files, not even bothering to answer him. Tom let out a slight laugh and again began to write his letter, a smile still drawn on his lips.

Only seconds later, Mary finally admitted :

"Possibly."

At this answer, Tom's smile was only getting bigger.