"Tom!" Came an excited whisper in the dead of night.
Startled, a sleep deprived Irishman woke and called worriedly, "What? What is it?" Flicking the lamp on and allowing the glow to engulf the room, he met his wife's smiling eyes.
"The baby, she's kicking!"
Mary was sitting upright in the plush bed, the strap of her silk chemise falling down her pale shoulder, her hands enveloping her small bump. Her new husband grinned and joined her hands on her stomach.
"Paris must agree with, did you say 'her'?" He asked, looking up from under his eyebrows.
"Hmm, I did," nodding and tilting her head to one side.
Now it was time for Tom to sit up. Surely she couldn't know... Could she?
"Of course I don't know for certain," came a disgruntled reply, "It's just a feeling I have...woman's intuition,"
Rolling his eyes Tom lay back, his bride joining his against the exquisite pillows.
"Do you want a girl?" He asked while wrapping an arm around her.
Thinking momentarily, but instinctively knowing her answer, Mary replied in the affirmative.
"You know, my whole life, or at least part of it, has been about marrying and producing an heir," she sighed. "Wanting a boy has been drilled into me since infancy. That relief I felt when George was born," shaking her head, "It almost overshadowed the joy of having a child, my first thought was of the estate,"
With tears in her eyes she faced her husband. "If this baby is a girl, she will never feel inadequate, not if I can help it,"
Hugging her tighter, Tom kissed the top of her head and whispered, "You are not inadequate Mary. Nobody, not Matthew nor I has done more for Downton than you have."
They met in a loving, passionate kiss before Mary broke away and laughingly stated: "Anyway, Sybbie already asked for a sister. I gave her my word,"
"What is that?!"
Sitting outside a Café de la Paix Tom took a sip from a minuscule cup.
"An espresso, why?" Came his innocent reply. This caused Mary to break into peals of delighted laughter.
"It looks ridiculous, Tom," she grinned, adjusting her hat and fanning herself. France in the summer resulted in an extremely sweaty experience.
"No more ridiculous than your hat!" Pointing towards Mary's Parisian purchase, well one of many.
"It's Chanel!" She scoffed. "It's Chanel," he mimicked.
Both attempting to retain a straight face did not last long as ferocious laughter erupted from the couple.
Settling down, Tom sighed, "I'll be sorry to leave tomorrow, it's been magical,"
Mary nodded but answered, "We have to go I'm afraid, Granny wouldn't be pleased with a French born great-grandchild!"
Laughing his agreement, Tom enquired after her enjoyment of the trip.
"Darling, it has been wonderful, perfect actually," grinning she asked, "How did you know I always wanted to come to Paris?"
Playfully tapping his nose with his index finger, Tom stood and offered his wife his arm. "Come on, Mrs Branson, or we'll miss our last supper,"
Adopting her best society accent, Mary scoffed, "Don't say supper darling, it's very middle class,"
Gliding down the stairs of the "Le Bristol Hotel", Mary met her husband in the reception. Anna had styled her short hair in soft loose waves and she donned a new crimson dress that draped her new pregnancy curves and came just below her bare knee. Red lipstick, a daring choice, completed the ensemble.
"Good evening, Mr Branson." Extending her arm and offering him her hand. He kissed it without hesitation and stood dumbstruck by her beauty.
"Mo Dhia, Mary. You're beautiful,"
"Thank you darling, you look handsome," kissing his cheek. Tom indeed did look especially handsome. His evening jacket had always looked better than his tails in Mary's opinion. "So where are you taking me?" She asked, placing her arms into her light coat with fur collar and taking his arm.
"To your favourite place in Paris sweetheart," he whispered in her ear.
Grinning, Mary excitedly answered, "Lead the way,"