A/N:Hello, all! A thousand apologies for the slow emergence of this next installment. Things have been hectic, but I promise this story and CTI are not forgotten! Your continued support and encouragement are always greatly appreciated. :) A special thanks to Willa Dedalus for being so patient with me and for being my biggest cheerleader and fan.

You may want to take a peek back at the last chapter if you don't remember where we left off...oh, about a hundred years ago. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

Mary closed her eyes as the insistent ache behind them intensified. She opened them reluctantly and squinted out the window in time to make out the dark shape of a car coming up the drive.

"Papa's back," she observed emotionlessly to Matthew, who was sat quietly on the sofa with a book, which he set aside immediately, shuffling himself to the edge of his seat and reaching for his stick.

Mary watched as his long fingers wrapped around the bronze handle, remembering how cool it had felt in her own hand early that morning when she'd tiptoed into his dressing room to make sure it was there when he awoke. She wondered if he even realized he'd forgotten it in his haste to leave her presence the previous night.

Rising, she followed patiently in the wake of his slow, shuffling steps to the front door where Lady Grantham and Edith had also gathered, eager for the news the returning earl bore. The hired car rolled to a painfully slow stop in front of the house, and Mary shifted impatiently from foot to foot as the near ancient driver hobbled around to open the door.

A collective gasp escaped the Abbey's inhabitants as a red-eyed Sybil emerged, followed closely by Lord Grantham, who kept hold of her elbow as though she might bolt even then. He was forced to relinquish his grasp when Cora, near giddy with relief, caught her youngest daughter up in a crushing embrace.

"Oh, my darling! I was so worried." She drew back to rake her eyes over Sybil's imperfect appearance, reaching up to smooth back a few escaped tendrils of chestnut hair before cupping reddened, tear-streaked cheeks in her palms. "Don't you ever put me through anything like this again!" The countess' soft voice had hardened into a tone that Mary had heard very seldom in her life, but the memory of the message it had born had altered her forever.

"You are damaged goods."

And now, so was her baby sister.

An hour later, the emotions she tried so hard to conceal under a stoic mask came bubbling forth in the form of an angry tirade against a pitifully weeping Sybil. Mary wasn't unmoved by her sister's tears, and she resented the painful tug around her heart when Sybil spoke forcefully through soft sobs of her determination that they wouldn't keep her from being with "her Tom," though he had been forbidden by their father from ever setting foot on Downton property again.

"Remember when Mama didn't want you to marry Matthew?" Sybil implored, reaching for her elder sister's hand, which was promptly tugged out of her reach.

"That isn't the point," Mary shot back, her frustration mounting for reasons she didn't fully understand. "Your conduct was completely improper and puts us all under threat of scandal and ruin. Can you imagine if the newspapers caught wind of the story? 'Earl's youngest follows in her sister's scandalous footsteps.' We'd all be disgraced."

"We all survived your scandal, and you came out happy in the end."

Mary silently gazed at her sister for a long moment before answering, feeling her palms grow damp as she fisted them by her sides.

"This is different," she spoke cooly. "I didn't try to run away with the chauffeur."

Sybil opened her mouth to retort, but Cora's motherly tones interrupted her.

"What Mary means to say, Sybil dear, is that love between someone of our class and someone of his...well, it just isn't practical. I may have had my doubts about the timing of their marriage, but Mary made a very wise choice in Matthew. You would do well to learn from her example."

"Thank you, Mama," Mary huffed impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. "I hope you soon come to understand just how foolish you've been," she continued, turning her attention back to her stubborn sister. "I can't imagine..."

A light touch on her elbow startled her.

"Mary, please." Matthew's voice was low and strained, his irritation at the entire situation evident in the lines that creased his forehead. She hadn't heard him come in, and wondered just how long he'd been lurking outside the door. "Carson's just rang the dressing gong."

"Let's all get changed for dinner and try to put this who mess behind us," Cora announced diplomatically as she rang the bell pull to summon Anna.

"Mary?" Matthew prompted, his eyes following his wife's gaze, which was still trained on Sybil's dampened face. With a silent nod, she turned and started for the door, pulling her arm from Matthew's light grip.

"I'm so sorry about all this, Sybil," she heard him speak as she turned the corner, her steps halting as she strained to hear more.

"Thank you, Matthew. It's good to know I have some support in this family."

Mary rolled her eyes at the empty hallway as her steps resumed again, her pace quickening as she made her way downstairs to their room.

The dining room had never seemed so eerily silent. Each carefully controlled tap and scrape of silverware against china seemed to resonate in the ears of the silently fuming diners.

Though he kept his eyes, for the most part, fixed safely on his plate, Matthew dared an occasional glance up at Sybil, seated across from him. Her face still bore evidence of recent tears, but he thought she was baring all this with admirable grace. She caught his eye as she pushed her fish around on her mostly full plate, and he couldn't help giving her a consolatory quirk of his mouth - not quite a smile, as the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. Sybil's answering smile was did, however, but it soon faded as her gaze moved down the table to meet her father's disappointed stare.

He glanced past Edith, seated to his left, down the table to where his wife sat, her face unreadable, but her eyes betraying the array of emotions inside. Perhaps Mary had been harsh with Sybil, and he couldn't deny that her attitude gave him cause for concern regarding their own situation had roles been reversed, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that she had a right to be upset. This trip home was supposed to be a happy occasion with all the attention on her and their happy news. As it was, they would probably need to find another time to return and make their announcement, if for no other reason than to spare Sybil the pain he was certain she would feel after so recently losing the hope of love and a life shared that she had cherished but hours past.

The silence continued as the women moved into the drawing room, but was soon broken in the dining room as Matthew was forced to sit quietly as Robert lamented the foolishness and rebellion on his youngest child between sips of brandy and puffs on his cigar. Though he was inclined to disagree with Robert's assessment of the former chauffeur's character and motives, he kept mostly silent, his opinion on the matter being clearly, and almost painfully, undesired.

When the sexes again reunited, the silence quickly dissolved into a tangle of raised voices and heated tones. Sybil, having been denied in her request to retire early, had lost all ability to hold her tongue, and Edith had had sufficient time to compose a fine quiver-full of verbal darts to aim at her sister and her unusual choice of lover. Cora's voice was soft, conciliatory, at first, but soon grew in both volume and strength as this became necessary to make herself heard over the great booming voice of her husband, who was reaching his wit's end with the entire situation.

In the midst of this chaos sat Mary, ensconced on the sofa between her mother and Sybil, and Matthew, who stood uncomfortably to the side. Mary was exhausted, the demands of her condition on her body begging that she retire to bed and leave her quarreling family to work things out between them. Her feelings about Sybil's rash actions were unaltered, but she couldn't possibly have been more tired of the entire situation. Her pleasant evening with the family had been completely destroyed, and all she wanted was to be left alone.

Her vision blurred slightly as her pulse pounded against the inside of her skull, each word spoken around her a painful blow to her senses. Her earlier frustration began to climb again, and she briefly closed her eyes in sheer disbelief that her plans had gone so horribly awry. Like a cord stretched beyond its limit, something inside her snapped, and she pushed herself up to her feet, palms outstretched in a wordless plea for silence.

"I'm pregnant!"

Her words rose clearly above the din of angry voices around her, and there was a momentary calm as the room blurred before her, then disappeared altogether.

Thank you for reading! Please review if you can. Your feedback really does help motivate me to write faster.

Hope you all enjoy your weekend...whatever the heck that is. :-D