Helloo!

I know, it has been absolutely ages since the first bit of this but here is the first chapter! Finally I know!

Now, the set up of this will be like this for about 4 or 5 chapters - there will be a look into the past for context and explanation and then the future bit, starting in 1937, will be the story.

Some of you had questions on whether this was a Tom/Mary fic along side - NOPE! It is NOT! What happens in the next chapter will get rid of that possibility anyway so you don't need to worry!

You can skip the first bit if you wish, it is a bit sad but you will miss some information that will be in it and the while story may be a bit confusing after that. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this, it took me a lot of time and effort to get this up for you all.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

August 1921

Tom couldn't quite believe it. As he held his once wailing child close - Sybbie had quietened down after receiving the attention she wanted - Tom could feel every ounce of pain he had buried begin to resurface. The gap that his wife had left in his heart was filled with loving his daughter but there was a small part that added to his love for his friends. Naturally, he considered Matthew and Mary his closest allies, and he didn't doubt for one moment that he was one of theirs in his own way. To Mary, he was the troublesome brother, one that made her smile when he set her father's teeth on edge, but he also a confidante, one that knew what was going on inside her head. She had told him all about her plans for the baby: how she would decorate the room, how she wished for a boy but longed for a girl and laugh at some of the more ridiculous choice of names.

But for Matthew he was right hand man. Business partner. He was a kindred spirit and in some ways, a much needed safety net that Matthew did know he needed until Mary wanted to give him the boot. Both would go as far to say that they were very good friends. Many secrets were exchanged during the evening billiard matches - one of the most important was to never breathe a word of Matthews lack of skill.

But now...

Tom slowly sat in the armchair, kissing his daughters forehead. He knew the pain all too well that Mary was expressing. He could hear her now, weeping; she was in her room after being moved from the hospital to home. He imagined that she was clutching to any kind of sanity she had left but it was soon slipping away. So instead she would be holding her mother's hand, who herself would be struggling to keep her emotions. He wanted to go and console them, all of them, but he just didn't have the strength. The friendship between him and Matthew had been tarnished, his already savaged heart ripped again. He wondered if being as stone cold as Mary would make him stronger in moments like this, but he knew that he could never do that.

He sighed, nuzzling his daughters head, "We've seen a lot of sadness, haven't we, little darling?" Sybbie just cooed, patting his dishevelled tie before grabbing it. She babbled, before laughing once as she pulled on it. Tom chuckled too, pulling a face when she tugged it again. The game continued until she found the hair which had fallen over his face much more interesting. Tom caught her hand before she grasped it; she was very strong for her age, she could probably pull the hair out if he wasn't careful.

He marvelled at his child, stroking her cheek until her head shot to the side at a high pitched sound. Crying. Or more specifically, a baby crying. As poor George wailed in his crib, his uncle kept staring at the door, a dilemma confronting him. He noticed that as a father, any cry, any whimper and sound of discomfort coming from his child, he heard, and he knew that he couldn't resist the call, after all, she was crying for some comfort from him. He knew that the mother/son bond between George and Mary was the same... but she hadn't stirred from the room.

"What should I do?" he whispered to his daughter. She said nothing, only staring at him with a wide expression before looking toward the sound, and back at him. He sighed, nodding slightly. "Fine,"

Peering into the hallway, he noticed that no door had opened or closed in a while. Hovering near Mary's door he could still hear her crying, but now she was arguing with her mother, shouting. No wonder she couldn't hear George. He snuck into the nursery, opening the door to see the little boy wriggling and wailing in his bed. Placing his daughter on the floor - who immediately grabbed for left over toys with undivided fascination - he noticed the problem immediately. The blankets had wrapped around the baby's foot, and as he pulled, his leg went up in the air.

"No wonder you're screaming - that doesn't look comfy at all," Tom smiled, freeing the little boy. The tiny leg flopped down onto the mattress, and the small boy stretched. But he was still crying. He had quietened down, but was still not happy. Looking back at his own child, who again, didn't seem to bother with whatever was happening only the wooden building blocks in her hands, he wondered if he should dare to hold him. Mary was adamant that no-one should dare hold him but her. Of course, Tom understood, George was all she had left of her husband, and she declared that she knew what was best for him. But George was crying... and she wasn't here.

He couldn't help it. A crying baby wasn't something that he could leave, not anymore. Scooping up George, blankets and all, he let the little boy grab his finger as he began to quieten. He settled them into the small armchair, tucking George into his arms properly.

"Ahh, your grandfather will no doubt kill me anyway at some point," he spoke to the baby. "But I'd much rather your mother do it. It'd be clean that way." He let go of the boys tiny hand and pointed to his temple. "Just the one. Straight through my head." Tom chuckled.

To his relief, George let out a little chuckle. It wasn't much of a laugh, just a little squeak at most but his tears had stopped and that was enough for Tom. As far as he was concerned, he had just made him laugh. That knowledge brought him up short. He sighed. Looking down at the boy, who was almost dozing off, he knew that he shouldn't be the one making this baby laugh.

The quiet of the house cast over them again. Tom hadn't noticed that it was far too quiet, and the only noise, bar from the children cooing and playing, was a voice snapping his name A very angry one.

"Tom! What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes wide. Tom hadn't noticed Mary come to the door. He saw the red rims around her eyes, which still held tears in them. She was visibly shaking and she strode over to him, towering over the chair. Accidently, she kicked the blocks out of Sybbie's reach way, the strange act making the small girl on the floor whimper and cry... which in result, made George cry again.

With both children wailing and screaming, both parents went into action.

"-Give him to me,"

"-Now look what you've done,"

She reached out for her child, expecting Tom to give him to her, but he didn't. Instead he rocked the little boy, hushing him gently.

"What-what I've done?" she gasped. Tom knelt down beside his daughter, stroking the slight wisps of blonde hair that sat on her head.

"Yes!" He snapped, looking back up at her. "What you've done. For a start, George was crying, you were arguing with your mother so we came in here to try and calm him down. And he was calm until you came in, shouting!"

Sybbie calmed when he brought the blocks back to her, she snuffled as he showed one to her, saying what it was and she took it, placing it in her mouth. He stood, walking to the crib and placing George inside it. He let it swing gently, the little baby now quiet; he was sticking his tongue out and he began to chew on his fist, still staring at the man above him.

"There," Tom cooed.

"Please," Mary hissed. "Please, just stop,"

Tom moved away from the crib to ease her, she had her eyes closed and when feeling him gently hold her arms, she opened them. She let out a breathy sigh before giving in, resting her forehead on his chest. He saw her shoulders rack, her cries muffled by her hands covering her face. She couldn't stop the tears, but they were not from sadness. Well, they partly were but that wasn't the main reason. She was just too exhausted to argue.

They both stood in the quiet together, the only sounds being Mary's low sobs and the wooden blocks hitting each other and the floor. It was a long time before Mary looked up to him, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"It'll pass soon," he whispered. "You know that. You've seen it,"

She sighs, nodding against him. She rests her cheek against his shoulder, hugging him tighter.

"I know. But it's just... it's different when you're experiencing it,"

Tom nodded at the truth of her words. He pulled her towards the armchairs in the corner, letting her sit by her son. He sat on the other side, Sybbie pulling at his trouser leg. She made a loud noise, using his leg to stand up to no win, she plopped back down again on her bottom before looking very confused. He smiled, picking her up to sit on his lap. She stayed quiet then, contented that her father understood what she wanted.

Mary looked into the cot after smiling at her niece, continuing.

"You see, I feel just so terribly lonely. I know I have all of you around me, even George manages to make some of it go away... but there's still something missing, not matter how many allies I have for I have no real friends to speak of,"

Tom smiled weakly, nodding. He knew that feeling all too well. Sybbie rested her head on his shoulder, she put her thumb in her mouth, her eyes slowly closing. He grasped her a little tighter, cuddling her as she began to fall asleep.

"Aye, but as I said, it'll pass. George will help you, don't worry - take this thumb out of your mouth darling - he'll be able to occupy your time very successfully if he's anything like this one,"

Mary furrowed her brow, reaching out to stroke Sybbie's cheek.

"Aww, no. The little darling is adorable." Mary cooed.

"Yes, when she's like this." he sighed. He stood up rocking Sybbie gently. Her thumb had gone back into her mouth again and she began to drool on his shirt. She whined a little at the slight movement; Tom winced the whole way over to her crib but she stayed sleeping. He tucked her in, stroking her hair before leaning in to kiss her head. "When she wakes up it'll be a whole different story."

Mary laughed, for the first time in a while. It was only a small one but it still made Tom smile and his heart swell with relief. It took him a long time to laugh again, much longer than this, but he was glad that she'd managed to do it. Mary hadn't realised she'd done it until she caught herself up short, gasping at the sound of her own joy. Tom watched her expression changed to completely guilt ridden.

"No, no, no." He rushed over to her, kneeling before her. "Don't feel guilty - and don't say you aren't because I can see it written all over your face. You have every right to be joyful. I learnt that and you have no idea how much it helps to laugh every once in a while,"

She fought to hide back the tears that wanted to burst, but the only thing that she registered was her hands in Tom's, stroking and soothing her. He was speaking but she couldn't hear him, he was shaking his head and on the verge of tears himself. Then he did something that she wasn't expected. HE brought her hands to his lips and kissed them, holding them to his cheek afterward.

"Why did you do that?" she interrupted him, watching him frown. He honestly had no idea. He jjust did. It was an act of comfort he'd used many times and never before had he been asked as to why he did it.

"I-I erm, well I don't know..." he realised in that moment that his actions were mistaken. Mary hadn't seen it as comfort, in fact she saw it as something else. He began to apologise, letting go of her hands and beginning to move away.

But she grasped his hands back, keeping him before her. So she hadn't misread his actions. She saw it as comfort and she didn't want it to leave. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall. Tom's eyes widened, and he slowly knelt back down again.

"Are you alright?" He knew it was a stupid question to ask, but he was clueless as to what just happened.

She cried freely, taking the clean handkerchief from Tom's pocket. She was so overwhelmed by her grief and confusion that she didn't realise that Tom had pulled her onto the floor, cuddling her to his chest, once again, letting her cry against him. All he knew now was that he would need a new shirt before lunch. He just sat in silence as she wept and murmured incoherently against him.

She soon slowed her tears, moving slightly to rest her head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she began to move but he kept her still; she was glad he did that, she nuzzled her cheek against him slightly, sighing at the feel of close contact with someone other than her mother. "I'm sorry. You must think me very silly, breaking down into tears like that,"

"No. Never." he answered. "I know what you're going through better than most. The only other people I know who are like us are your grandmother and Isobel," he chuckled slightly at the irony of the most steely person, bar from his mother, he knew being a source of comfort.

Mary smiled, "You're right, and Granny isnt the most emotionally attached person, well, she doesn't show it to say the least,"

Tom realised that she was right, and anyone else in the house would do the same. He held her face in his hands, turning her slightly to look at him. She avoided his gaze for a moment, until he murmured to her to look at him. She sighed, finding herself looking into the face of pure comfort.

"Listen, now I don't pretend that this will be easy for you, because it won't. But, being alone is something that no one should be. Now, I made a promise to your sister long ago that I would devote every moment to her happiness and, for her sake I honestly hope I did, and now I make one to you. If you ever need anything, be it a friend, a confidante or... or a babysitter! - I promise them to you. that's my offer. A friendly ear and heart." he sighed, before continuing. "You paid me such a kindness when Sybil died, and now I am repaying and offering that kindness to you,"

Mary nodded, completely touched by his declaration. Yes, she had my allies, family members and many acquaintances whom she called friends, but she had never had a true friend. None of them had made such a promise to her and she was glad she finally had one.

"Thank you," she smiled, her breath choking slightly thorugh her tears.

"And don't worry, George is included in that,"

"Then will you be his godfather, please? I don't think I know anyone else who will do it as well as you, nor will anyone love him as much as you will," She looked up at him intently. "And don't worry, I'll let you hold him,"

Tom laughed, nodding, accepting the job. He would be happy to, knowing that now his mother would have some stability in a friendship.

August 1937

The sun heated her, a slight smile on her face. The warm breeze floated over her, it wasn't unpleasant but it did blow her hair over her face, tickling it. The rest of it fanned out slightly behind her, the golden highlights which stayed hidden shining through the darker shades, giving it a strange two-toned colour. Sybbie tried to blow it off, she didn't want to move her hands. She didn't want to move at all, she wanted to be left alone. In her daydream, she wanted to believe that she was flying, the breeze was taking her somewhere far from Downton. She imagined far off lands, some real, some her own creations with faces that she had sworn she had seen before but just couldn't place.

She heard muffled footsteps come from behind her, and sure enough, a cool shadow past over her face. She still kept her eyes shut, not moving an inch. She let him stand there before speaking; it couldn't have been anyone else.

"You're blocking my sunlight,"

George laughed, throwing his head back slightly, his hands going firmly into his pockets. He still stood over her, moving slightly so she was completely in shadow. She glared at him then, but he just smirked, completely amused. His dark hair had flopped over his eyes, their colour matching his hair. Though he was tall he was well built, however he still retained some of his lanky nature from his younger years, but slowly and surely, his strength was beginning to show.

"Your sunlight?"

She sniffed, closing her eyes again. She turned away from him, rolling out of his shadow back into the sun. Her back felt cool against the sun, and she groaned when the shadow returned.

"Yes. My sunlight. Now sit down, or go away George." She sighed, flopping her head back down onto her forearms. Of course she wanted him to leave, she want to be left alone, but George in his annoying mood, lumped down next to her, crossing his feet and resting his elbows on his knees, rocking slightly. He knew that he was annoying her; every time he rocked, his shadow went over her face, but he enjoyed it. They had always been like this. Everyone always said that they may as well have been brother and sister due to the amount of fights and squabbles and teases that had occurred over the years. An arm lashed out at him but George caught Sybbie's hand, laughing as she still tried to hit him with it. Her fingers barely brushed his bare forearm, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. With a huff she pulled away, letting George have his victory. She didn't worry over it too much, she would have her revenge later on.

"So, have you heard?" he began.

No. Of course she hadn't. She had stayed clear of any family today through wanting to be alone. Besides, the fact that she hadn't been approached by her father meant that it involved her... and she wouldn't like it.

"Don't be silly," she deadpanned. "Of course I haven't. What?"

She sat up on her forearms, sighing as she saw the horrid sly smirk come onto his face.

"Well, apparently, Mama said-"

"To you or to someone else, spy?" She winked. Those who said that George wasn't an earwig were liars.

"Shh. You're lucky I find all this out for you - I don't have to use my talents to help you, you know. Anyway, Mama said that we have a guest coming to Downton."

This made her start. She knelt up, her need to find out more about Georges probably stolen knowledge becoming desperate. Her eyes widened in speculation - there were only two kinds of guests that came to Downton.

"Normal or Forced?"

George sighed. They had both come up with a code for these two kinds of guests. the normal guests were just family or friends. It was the forced ones who they dreaded, more specifically Sybbie. Since she would be 18 in a very short time, her aunt thought it would be 'appropriate' for her to invite 'suitable' men to come and meet her niece in the hopes that something could come of it. George knew that once he came of age, he too would be called upon to parade around different houses, some unwitting girl essentially being sold to him. He hated what he was seeing now, he didn't really want to experience it for himself.

"I'm not sure. He's a very distant family friend; he's Grandmamma's - hold on, let me get this right - he's Grandmamma's, best friends - in New York-, brothers nephew. Or something like that."

Sybbie relaxed, rolling onto her back, once again enjoying the sun without a care. This guest was Normal, she had nothing to fear.

"Well.."

Her eyes snapped open. "George? George! Is he a Normal?"

Her cousin visibly cowered. He began to stutter, looking around for any kind of distraction. Sybbie was having none; she needed to know now.

"George!"

"Alright, alright!" he defended. "I don't know. From the way Mama was talking about him and from the way Uncle Tom was speaking... He could be both."

Within the bookshelves of the library, others were talking about another troubling matter altogether. Mary paced in front of her brother in law, confidante and, she wouldn't dare say it, but best friend, exasperated with him.

"Tom! Be reasonable! I know that things have changed since me and my sisters had to go through this but not all that much!" She sighed, rubbing her forehead as Tom huffed at her. "Besides, I had to pull in a lot - and I mean a lot- of favours for Sybbie to even be considered for the season! You just remember that! Why won't you let me do this? She'll need to find someone at some point-"

"Yes! That is my point exactly - 'At some point!' - and that point doesn't need to be now! She is 17." Tom cried. He had told Mary over and over that he didn't want his only child married off just yet. Of course there were selfish reasons behind it but mainly, he felt that she was still far too young. The world had change some since 1909 when Mary was introduced to society - nearly 30 years- if things hadn't changed since then... well, it was impossible. They had been through a world war since then and from what Tom was constantly hearing and reading, the endless torrent of information about the German Fuhrer left the idea of another war an alarming possibility.

"I know girls who were married at 17, and what's wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, per se, it's just..." He just sighed. He couldn't argue with her any more for they would just go round and round in circles, each shouting their point at least 5 times.

"She could be happy," Mary murmured, taking his hand rubbing it. He had clenched his fists for so long, he hissed slightly when Mary flattened his hand. Tom just gave her a knowing look, his eyebrows raised. Mary chuckled, nodding.

"Of course. It will be a fight to the death until she's happy."

"Of course! Did you expect anything less?" He laughed. "She just knows what she wants."

They sat in silence, both contemplating their years in parenting, thinking over how much and how fast their children had grown and changed... and how they wouldn't change them for the world. They both thought of how they had had an effect upon the others child - in some ways, they were the respective mother and father either George or Sybbie never met.

"She'll do well in London, you know." Mary murmured. "I don't doubt it, well, if she behaves herself,"

Tom laughed before scoffing.

"Really? The reckless, headstrong daughter of an exiled chauffeur and a-" He cut himself off. Not for one moment could he think of a bad word for Sybil. He could think of millions for himself: disgraced, lowly, revolutionary, selfish. But none for her. Never. And he wouldn't dream of trying. He coughed a bit, looking down and away in shame, "Anyway, she's not a Lady. She's not rich or titled. Who'd want her?"

"Don't," Mary scolded softly. She pulled his face to meet hers, her face showing the strength behind her words. "Don't think like that. You'd be surprised how many will want her. The season isn't what it was, many people who have become self made have their children involved. And Sybbie is part of that group and to be honest, it's those who do well now."

"But-"

The door opened behind them, Robert came in, Cora slowly walking in behind him. Neither Tom nor Mary could deny that Cora was not a well woman. Even though she tried her hardest to power through her daily life, most of the time, she spent it lying in bed, reading and sleeping. She murmured her hello's to them, before being helped into a seat by her husband.

"Hello, you two," Robert smiled slightly. "Where are your children?"

"Outside, I believe." Tom replied.

Robert groaned, tutting loudly. He slumped into a seat, reaching for the newspaper. He tossed it back down again, once again, the prospect of war of covering the front pages. He was sick of it all and the war hadn't even started. He couldn't understand why the people of Europe would want even entertain the idea of war once again, considering that the horrors of the War only thirteen years before.

"What?" Tom smirked. "It's a nice day, let them be,"

"You know full well what I mean, Tom,"

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. Of course. Now, it wouldn't be a complete lie to say that Sybbie and her grandfather were not the best of friends. In fact, that was sugar coating it. Ever since the young girl discovered that she had a knack for mechanics and spent all of her time watching her father still tinkering with the car, her appearance suffered and so did the opinion of others on her. She regularly would run into the house, her clothes covered in grease and oil, her hair mussed from crawling under the car and almost every time, there would be guests at the house... and her grandfather hated it.

He couldn't deny that she was inquisitive, but there were times and places where she could let that nature out and on appropriate things, like books, not 'grubby engines' like he had once told her when she was 12. She didn't speak to him for a week. And the arguments escalated and heightened over the years.

"Don't strain yourself, Robert." Tom joked. "Sybbie will be so touched."

Mary tried not to laugh, she pressed her face into Tom's shoulder, disguising her wide smile. Even Cora cracked a smile. She patted her husband's arm, who was glowering at his son in law, who made no attempt to hide his laughter. Robert grumbled under his breath, shaking his head.

"Would she really? For a moment I thought she couldn't care less.." Robert said, dryly, making Tom smile. It was a running joke between them, the hatred that seemed to pass between grandfather and granddaughter. "Although! If she dares to go anywhere near that garage again I'll-"

"You'll what?" Mary chuckled. "Oh Papa, you know full well that whatever Sybbie is given, she can throw back twice as hard. I wouldn't bother, If I were you."

Robert grunted, sighing as he relaxed back into his chair. He couldn't understand for the life of him why Sybbie behaved the way she did. She was highly stubborn - though that he believed came from his daughter - but the slightly sly nature, her over confidence and her forceful radical mind, he could only put that down to her father. She was the spitting image of him anyway, in looks and in the way she acted. But there were times, some strange fleeting moments, when he didn't see his granddaughter, but someone more familiar, very much alive again. But she was long since lost.

Though he had to admit, her knack for mechanics did have its uses, sometimes she would find problems where her father had missed. A talent well kept within the family. He couldn't help laughing when remembering back to when she was 7, she tried to teach her younger cousin how to use a wrench and rather than wrapping it around the nut, George wrapped it around the arm of one of Sybbie's dolls. None of them had ever heard the girl scream so loudly. And though tom was with them in the room, he honestly thought something terrible had happened. Well, it had... but not as bad as his imaginings.

"Speaking of trouble, have their Majesties been informed of the riot Sybbie may cause in London?" Cora jested.

Mary rolled her eyes, "No, but I'm sure she'll be a wonderful shock for them."

"Absolutely,"

Out in the hall, the telephone began to ring, Tom getting up to answer it. He'd been waiting for a phone call all day, and now as he strode towards it, a slight smile appeared on his face.

"Hello?"

The day had gone by in a daze, the warm heat staying late into the evening. As Sybbie was placing the last of the very little jewellery she owned on, she thought ahead to the coming Friday; that was the day this new guest was coming. She didn't know his name yet, not that she really cared, but it would be nice to have some identity for him. She knew what was coming. She would be woken in the morning by her aunt, telling her to bathe and dress nicely and let Olivia, her new ladies maid after Anna became housekeeper, style her hair properly. She groaned, resting her forehead on her hands.

"Are you alright?" her aunts voice startled her. In the mirror, she saw Mary standing by the door, pulling the long strands of her necklace between her fingers. Sybbie nodded, watching as her aunt sat down in a chair that was far too plush for her tastes. Mary fell back slightly into the seat, she couldn't understand how this was comfortable... or good for her posture.

"Where have you been all day?" Mary asked. "Your arms look a little red."

Sybbie tutted at the accidental sunburnt that was gradually showing. She didn't mind though, in a few days it would darken.

"Outside, in the sun," she smiled. "George was there too before you ask. Has what's-her-face called Da yet?"

Mary rolled her eyes at the dismissive name, "Emma. And yes, she called about an hour ago. She and Annabelle are coming back tomorrow,"

Sybbie grunted, sticking her tongue out in disgust. She noticed a pair of gloves laid next to her jewellery box. She had never seen them before; she never wore gloves, she hated them. She rolled her eyes, opening her drawer and placing them inside. Mary sighed loudly.

"Ahh," Sybbie smirked. "So it was you who put those there... ha ha, I see."

The drawer suddenly opened - Mary was stood beside her - pulling them back out again.

"You'll have to wear them when you go to London, so I suggest you start now so you get used to them, " Mary handed them one at a time to her, insisting she put them on. Sybbie hated them. No one else wore them. She'd look a fool. "And if you dare to take them off during one of the balls, I shall have to beat you about the head,"

Clasping her hands together, making sure that they were on properly, Sybbie shook her head.

"Only Da can do that, and even he doesn't dare to."

"That's because he loves you far too much. You are all he has. Whereas I am not so lenient!"

Sybbie sighed, all of her cheek and confidence gone. Her shoulders slumped, her fingers going straight to the two small rings on her necklace.

"I know,"

Mary could see the pain flash behind her eyes. Everyone saw it every once in a while. All of the family knew that Sybbie felt guilty for her father being alone and for him far too... loose with his strict ruling and though Sybbie didn't quite understand why, the others did.

"Are you looking forward to next year?"

Sybbie still kept her voice low, "Would you believe me if I said no?"

Mary groaned, flopping back into the seat. She knew it. She knew that her niece would be difficult about all of this, but it was all for a good cause. To find her some kind of leads to a husband. Anyone else in her position would have been delighted at the prospect, even Annabelle, but for some reason, Sybbie had found another way to be annoyingly different.

Well, not annoying but still, to Mary it was incredibly frustrating. She could never seem to find that one thing that made Sybbie happy - she blamed that fact that she wasn't her mother, though she was as good as.

"Sybiie, darling, not this again." Mary sighed. "Look, We're not forcing you but, just give it a chance, you might enjoy yourself!"

Sybbie couldn't talk about this anymore, she couldn't care less about her season at that moment, she wanted to know about the mystery man coming to stay.

"What's the name of the man coming to stay?"

Of course, her aunt knew nothing of Sybbie knowing abot this.

"how do you know that?"

-"George"

-"George, silly boy,"

Sybbie laughed, George wasn't as much of a secretive spy as he thought. The fact that his own mother was on to him was bad news.

"Well, his name is Jonathan Pearce. He's the son of some friends relation of your Grandmother. He's coming over from Chicago to see her. Also, he's here for some talk in London about some property he wants to buy," She informed. Mary stood, knowing that what she was about to ask was very brave. "Will yo be a dear and accompany him on his visit, keep him happy for your Grandmother?"

Jonathan Pearce. So that's who this man was. She could picture him now: a suave devilish man with a wide grin and a cunning agenda like the mob members her father had read about in his newspapers some years ago. No. No, no, no. She would not sit next to him and she would not even try to be friends with him. Yes, she would be civil, maybe even make him think that he had a fighting chance at her but it would all end in tears.

And they wouldn't be hers.

A/N: Ta Da!

I know that there were some names in there that will confuse you - i.e. Emma and Annabelle - but don't worry, they will be explained next so don't fret!

There will also be questions about Tom and Mary - This is NOT a Tom/Mary fic, they will NOT get together! Ever in this. Besides, what you find out in the next chapter will eradicate that possibility anyway. They have a very strong friendship and through mutual experiences and respects, there aren't many things that can threaten it - the only thing being their children.

You will see that the George and Sybbie do speculate on whether Tom and Mary have been together or do have some kind of secret relationship but as you can see, George isn't that great of a spy! and they wouldn't find anything anyway - it's just a bit of humour.

Please tell me what you think! and don't worry, my next update shall be for the weekend ;) .. you know what I'm talking about!

GMJ xx