A/N: Thank you for not killing me and staying with me after the last chapter. ;) Your continued support is greatly appreciated. To reward that loyalty, here is the longest chapter in the story thus far.

Thank you so very much also for all the reviews, etc., since the last chapter. As well, thank you to those who reviewed the story for the first time. Your thoughts are much appreciated. I hope that you will choose to review again. :)

As always, many thanks to my ever patient betas, Tripp3235 and mswainwright, without whom, the quality of this story would be much poorer indeed!

Disclaimer: Not mine. All Downton Abbey characters belong to Julian Fellowes and ITV. I'm just playing with them.

Chapter 20

On Monday morning, Tom started his new job. At his mother's insistence, he had come for breakfast before his first day. While he was there, Sybil had been distant and refused to engage much in conversation with anyone, especially him. She had also looked more tired than usual. As he walked to work, the encounter at breakfast had him worried about the situation with Molly and Sybil and Molly's eldest.

When he arrived, Mr. Connolly drafted Tom to do some editing as the assistant editor had quit just that morning and the newsroom was in chaos. Within an hour after Tom started though, all thoughts of Sybil and Molly were banished from his mind when 'some editing' meant nearly twenty articles for the evening edition that had to be done by noon.


After the breakfast dishes were done, Sybil started on some darning under the guidance of Mrs. Branson while Mrs. Branson did her own work on the sewing machine in the main room. Sybil had asked to learn the basics of needlework beyond embroidery, and as there was always some darning to do, Sybil was working on a sock.

With the sewing machine whirling as Mrs. Branson worked, Sybil's mind wandered back to what Tom told her last night about him and Mrs. Hayes. It was one thing to think about the possibility of Tom having a sweetheart before they met, but it was entirely a different thing to be having dinner with the woman the following week. As a result, images of Tom kissing and caressing a woman whose face she couldn't see had haunted her dreams the previous night, and in them, sometimes she became the one Tom was kissing. The whirling of the sewing machine matched the whirling of her thoughts, add her struggle with darning the sock and Sybil managed to prick her finger several times in the course of ten minutes. Though she didn't voice her frustration, there were certainly unladylike thoughts running through her mind.

Once Mrs Branson was done at the sewing machine and moved to the table, she asked, "Sybil, dear, how were you planning to decorate the church for the wedding?"

Her thoughts awhirl, it took several seconds before it registered that Tom's mother had asked her a question and then she pricked her finger again. After she sucked on the pricked finger, Sybil said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Branson. What did you ask?"

"I hope you didn't hurt yourself," said Mrs. Branson as she looked kindly at Sybil over the top of her glasses. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was just wondering what your plans were for decorating the church?

"To be honest, I haven't even thought of decorations at all," said Sybil as she pushed another stitch through the sock. "I suppose a few paper streamers and some wild flowers would be sufficient."

"I think we can do better than that," said Mrs. Branson with a smile. "After church on Sunday, I was talking to one of Tom's father's cousin who works in a flower shop. She says that she could provide you with a bouquet and flowers for the church at a substantial discount, if you were not too picky with the types of flowers. In season flowers are invariably cheaper."

"I'm not picky at all," said Sybil, surprised by how much of the wedding she hadn't considered. "My main concern is to get married not how to decorate the church."

"What about your family? Would they be offended if you went with in season rather than hothouse flowers?"

"What my family wants and what I want are two completely different things," said Sybil with a sigh. "My family would have probably wanted a huge church celebration filled with hothouse flowers and horse drawn carriages, which my sister, Mary, is likely to have at hers later in the year. What Tom and I want is just to celebrate our union in front of our families. Did Tom tell you we had a failed elopement?" With thoughts of Mrs. Hayes running amok in her mind, Sybil needed to unburden herself of something to someone and at this juncture she felt comfortable enough to bring the failed elopement up with Tom's mother.

"No, he didn't," said Mrs. Branson, her voice neutral. "But my son can be very private about certain things."

"It was in late February," said Sybil as she recalled that fateful night. "I had realized my feelings for Tom months earlier, but I had been too afraid to leave my family behind. By some sort of miracle, our cousin, the heir, was able to stand after being paralyzed near the end of the war. He and his fiancee had decided to marry at Downton, which made me realize that the war was really over and that my family would never be willing to let me work again.

"Once I realized that my family would never let me have the life that I wanted, I made my decision and finally told Tom, I was ready to run away with him. We left late the next night and got as far as the outskirts of Gretna Green. My sisters found us at the inn where we were staying and convinced me that I should leave in broad daylight rather than as a thief in the night. Tom wasn't very happy with me, but I wasn't changing my mind, just changing how to go about it. When he came back the next morning, that's when we started our plans to leave and wrote to you."

"Well, I am very happy that you didn't elope," said Mrs. Branson with a smile. "Because your sisters were right, it's better to leave in broad daylight and because now I will get to see my son marry you. How are you faring with that sock?"

"I think I've closed up the hole, but it took me almost a half hour," said Sybil with a sigh.

"Don't get discouraged," said Mrs. Branson cheerfully. "You'll pick up the knack for it and we have another month yet for you to practice. Besides, if you need help, you're always welcome to visit."

"Do you think that I will ever be a good housekeeper?" asked Sybil as she thought of all she had to learn in the month ahead. "I seem to know so very little about housekeeping and while I'm willing to learn, I worry that after we're married, it won't be sufficient."

"We all wonder sometimes if we are good housekeepers and we learn as we go," said Mrs. Branson reassuringly.

"But when you started I'm sure you knew more than I do when it came to housekeeping," said Sybil, clearly exasperated. "Even Tom knows more about housekeeping than I do."

"Do you love my son?" asked Mrs. Branson as she looked at Sybil above her glasses.

"Yes, of course, I do." Sybil furrowed her brow, unsure of where this conversation was leading.

"Will you be doing your best?" asked Mrs. Branson.

"Yes, I will, but what if my best is not enough?" The frustration in Sybil's voice highly evident.

"Listen," said Mrs. Branson as she leaned closer to Sybil. "Let me tell you a secret. Your best is all that you can do and I know that my son loves you very much. Until you learn, that will be enough." Mrs. Branson straightened up after she spoke.

"How do you know that?" asked Sybil, thoroughly unconvinced.

"My son waited for you in Yorkshire for nearly six years," said Mrs. Branson. "He is not marrying you for your housekeeping skills. If you're honest with one another right from the beginning, he will forgive nearly any mistake you may make, because he loves you. That's the 'for better or for worse' part."

"Are you certain of that?"

"Without a doubt," said Mrs. Branson. "Tom is not known for his patience, just ask any of my other children. To wait for you for that long is a testament to his devotion to you. You know what, dear. I think it's time for a spot of tea. Why don't you put away the darning and start on the tea."

"Yes, Mrs. Branson," said Sybil as she thought that perhaps making tea would keep her from thinking about Tom and Mrs. Hayes.


On the shopping trip after lunch, the first stop that Sybil and Mrs. Branson made was to drop off the invitation at the printers where Mrs. Branson's nephew worked. Then it was to the bank to take some money out for the furniture deposit and for the linen deposit before heading to the furniture store. The furniture maker came up to them as they entered the store.

"How may I help you?"

Sybil put on her politest smile and said, "Yes, I'd like to order the bed, the chest of drawers, the wardrobe and two of the nightstand in this set. When do you think you could have it ready?"

"I would say about four weeks from now, the week of May 26," said the furniture maker as he consulted a calendar he pulled out of his overalls.

"Is there any chance it can be done in three weeks?" asked Sybil as she looked at him with a smile that reached her eyes.

"That might be difficult, Miss," said the furniture maker as he put his hands on the set. "The work is detailed and if you want it to last, it has to be done right."

"I see," said Sybil, as her mind worked on various aspects of the negotiations. "Would it be possible to have the bed ready in three weeks and the rest later?"

The furniture maker looked at the bed in more detail. "I suppose it's possible, but that may delay the other pieces and I'd have to charge you extra for delivery."

"How long a delay and how much extra?" asked Sybil thinking quickly.

"It'd likely take an extra week for the rest and I'd have to charge you another six shillings."

"The extra week won't be a problem, but if I give you a deposit for half now instead of the usual quarter, I'll pay an extra three shillings for the second trip," offered Sybil.

The furniture maker thought about it for a bit before saying, "You drive a hard bargain, Miss, but if you come back in two and a half weeks to check on progress and pay out the bed, I'll take your offer."

"So long as I don't have to pay out the rest until after delivery, it's a deal," said Sybil quickly to seal the deal.

"Done," replied the furniture maker. "Come this way and I'll take down your information."

When Sybil and Mrs. Branson exited the the shop, Mrs. Branson said, "You do drive a hard bargain. Where did you learn skills like that?"

"Granny drilled into us the art of a hard bargain," said Sybil elated by her negotiations. "Buy nothing substantial without trying to bargain it down first. Downton was in financial despair before my mother married my father and Granny had to run a tight ship. She made sure that whenever we were with her when she purchased something that we watch very carefully and she'd ask us questions afterward. My mother may have brought her fortune to the estate, but old habits die hard."

"I think I like your Granny already," said Mrs. Branson.

"She has a bit of a crusty exterior, but a heart of gold and a tongue sharp as a knife," said Sybil as she thought of her goodbye with the Dowager Countess. "I wish you could meet her, but I don't think she'll be coming to the wedding. The boat travel might be too hard."

"Of course," said Mrs. Branson. "Where to next?"

"The mercers," said Sybil. "I'd like to order the curtains, linens and the bedding so that it will be ready when the bed is delivered."

"Very well," said Mrs. Branson. "This way. After that we'll get the meat and the vegetables for dinner, envelopes from the stationers for the invitations, a visit to the post office and then we can head home."


When Tom returned from his first day at the office around quarter after five, he could smell the food cooking even before he entered the flat. As he opened the door, he could hear his mother telling Sybil, "You need to keep stirring or else it will settle and burn. We'll have the bread we picked up today with this. Normally, I make my own bread on Sunday, but with everything going on, I settled to buy some this week instead."

Sybil asked, "How do you know how much salt to put in?"

"You just put in a little at a time, taste it after you stir it in and then add more if need be," said Mrs. Branson. "You'll get the knack of it after a while."

As the kitchen came into view, Cathleen was setting the table while Sybil and Mrs. Branson was at the stove. Conner was nowhere to be seen.

"How was your first day of work, Tom?" asked Cathleen. "Do you like your office?"

As Tom walked over to Sybil to give her a kiss on the cheek, he said, "Very, very busy. After I met the rest of the staff, and got settled at my desk, they found out that the assistant editor quit, so they needed someone to do some of his work. Then they needed help in the printing department this afternoon. I haven't even started considering what to write for my first column." Looking at Sybil, he asked, "How was your day?"

Mrs. Branson looked up at Tom and said, "This one knows how to drive a hard bargain. She got the cabinet maker to make two deliveries for just an extra three shillings."

"Who did you think got us the rent at the discount that we did," said Tom. "She sweet talked Cousin Fergus into it. What's this about two deliveries?"

Sybil spoke up as she stirred, "He didn't think that he could get the whole set done in three weeks, so I asked him to work on the bed first so that it would be delivered a week early, so you could move in as planned and the rest two weeks later. I thought the bed more important than the rest."

"Good idea and it's worth the extra three shillings," said Tom.

Sybil beamed at the compliment, "I also ordered the curtains, bedding and linens. They will be ready the week before the bed is delivered."

"Oh good," said Tom with a twinkle in his eye. "I was worried that I would have to sleep on the bare bed."

Mrs. Branson shook her head and said, "Why don't you wash up? Supper will be ready in five minutes. Cathleen, when you're done, tell Connor to wash up."

"Yes, Ma," said Tom and Cathleen in unison.


After supper, Tom and Sybil spent some time pouring over a number of classified ads for tables and chairs that would suit their needs. Though Sybil's responses to Tom's questions were typical Sybil, Tom could sense from the way Sybil alternately sat away from him and couldn't stop touching his hand or his arm that their discussion last night was still bothering her. Tom was determined to sort it out when they had a few minutes of privacy on his way out.

As they eliminated a number of the ads due to the size, shape or asking price, of the descriptions that they liked, Sybil jotted down the directions and noted that she would be writing the letters to set up an appointment to see them the following weekend. Mrs. Branson mentioned that if they feed Kevin and Ciaran a good lunch that Kevin could borrow the lorry from the shop on the following Saturday to help move what they bought.

When it was time for Tom to leave, Sybil walked him to the door to say good night.

"I'm sorry that I can't spend more time with you," said Tom as he reached to stroke her cheek with his fingers and Sybil flinched a little.

"You have to get your rest and I'll see you tomorrow morning when you stop by after breakfast," said Sybil. "Is the job all you expected it to be?"

"Right now, I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing," said Tom, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "I spent the morning editing twenty articles and then half the afternoon was spent helping get the evening edition out. Ask me again in a few weeks when I'm settled in."

"Of course," said Sybil with a wan smile.

"Is everything all right?" asked Tom. "You didn't seem quite like yourself tonight."

"I'm all right," said Sybil, not wanting to talk about Mrs Hayes this evening.

"No, you're not," said Tom with quiet determination. "You're hiding your feelings now."

"I don't want to talk about it right now," said Sybil quietly with more than a hint of annoyance. "I'm still trying to understand my feelings on what you told me last night. Please give me some time to sort it out."

Realizing the shock of what he told her had yet to be worked through, Tom acquiesced and said, "Very well, but I'd like to hear what you do feel about the situation once you've sorted it all out. Promise me you'll tell me."

"I will," said Sybil as she looked at him. He's still as handsome as he always was. I don't love him any less.

"So, what are the plans for tomorrow?" Tom asked to lighten the mood.

"I have some letters to write as well as some envelopes to address for the invitations. Then it's food shopping again, likely fish this time and then the cooking lesson."

"Sounds like a busy day," said Tom with a small smile.

"I'm glad to be busy," said Sybil as she looked down at the floor. "Especially now."

"Are you all right with spending all day with my mother?" asked Tom, concerned that Sybil might not voice issues with his mother otherwise.

"Yes, we're getting to know one another better," said Sybil. "Which is lovely and hopefully by the time we're married, I'll know more than just how to make tea and bake cakes." Sybil sighed wistfully.

"I'm sure you will," said Tom encouragingly. "That was a very good dinner tonight."

Blushing at the compliment, Sybil said, "That's probably because your mother was watching over me. If you can say the same thing when I try to make the dinner on my own after we're married, then I'll believe it."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," said Tom, trying to be encouraging, as he caressed her arm. This time she didn't flinch. "You always accomplish what you put your mind to. Remember how you became a nurse after your family was against it. If you can do that, you can learn to cook dinner."

"I will try, if you'll be patient with me," said Sybil as she glanced shyly at Tom.

"When you are married to me, my patience will have no bounds," said Tom with a wild waving gesture.

Sybil giggled a little at this and said, "Don't exaggerate, Tom. It doesn't become you."

"At least I got a smile out of you tonight, so I accomplished my goal," said Tom with a grin.

Sybil gave him a look and said, "Goodnight, Tom."

Tom leaned in for a quick kiss and when they broke apart, he said, "Goodnight, love."


Tuesday was another food shopping and cooking lesson for Sybil, and she and Mrs. Branson picked up the printed wedding invitations from the printers. Another offer arrived in the evening post for the paper Tom wrote on the Treaty of Versailles and the Common Worker for £3 and left the publication rights with him. After a short discussion with Sybil, the £5 offer from last week still sounded better. As well, Sybil addressed the envelopes for some of the local invitations and Tom took them with him to post when he left that evening. It had been a nice day as time passed and Mrs. Hayes wasn't mentioned.

At the end of the day, as she was working on one of the handkerchiefs in the room she shared with Cathleen, Sybil asked, "I was wondering what your plans were for the fifth of June." She had been thinking about how to ask Cathleen about being a bridesmaid for about a week now and decided to bite the bullet.

Cathleen looked puzzled and said, "I'll be at the wedding, no?"

Sybil looked up from her stitching. "I was wondering if you'd like to be one of my bridesmaids."

Cathleen looked at Sybil, wondering if she was playing a trick and said, "You're joking aren't you?"

"Why would I be?" asked Sybil as she laid her embroidery on her lap.

"I don't know," said Cathleen still doubtful. "Tom and Ciaran are always playing tricks on me. I wouldn't put it past Tom to ask you."

"Have I ever played one on you?" asked Sybil earnestly.

"No," said Cathleen slowly.

"So would you be one of my bridesmaids?"

"Of course!" said Cathleen, who rushed over to hug Sybil unexpectedly. "I've never been asked before. Mairin married when I was five and I was her flower girl and Aileen had her sister and her cousins. I have to tell Ma."

As Cathleen rushed out of the room, Sybil quickly put her embroidery in her suitcase before leaving the room after Cathleen, who could be heard shouting, "Ma! Sybil's asked me to be one of her bridesmaids."

Mrs. Branson, who had been getting ready for bed, came out of her bedroom and asked, "What is all this shouting?"

Even Connor came out of his bedroom to see what the commotion was all about.

"Sybil asked me to be one of her bridesmaids," said Cathleen. "Can you believe it? I'll need a dress."

Looking over at Sybil who had followed Cathleen out of their bedroom, Mrs. Branson said, "Well, it's very kind of Sybil to ask you. We'll talk about what to do about a dress tomorrow. Now go back to bed, Cathleen. You have to work tomorrow and Connor has to go to school."

"Yes, Ma," said Cathleen before she took Sybil's hand and dragged her back to their room where they could discuss it in detail.

Once Connor realized it was something to do with the wedding, he rolled his eyes and went back to bed.

It was at least an hour later when all the whispering in the girls' bedroom ceased and Sybil and Cathleen went to sleep.


There was no time to discuss bridesmaids dresses the following morning as Cathleen overslept after staying up much too late. As Sybil and Mrs. Branson had tea after Sybil swept and mopped the floor that morning, Mrs. Branson asked, "What do you have for a wedding dress, Sybil?"

After taking a sip, Sybil said, "I was just going to wear a dress that was made recently."

"Would you mind bringing it out?" asked Mrs. Branson as she blew on her hot tea. "I'd like to take a look."

"Of course," said Sybil as she put her cup and saucer on the table.

When she came out of the bedroom, with the dress in hand, Mrs. Branson got up from her seat and placed the dress in front of Sybil to get an idea of what it would look like. It was a light coloured dress that went to just a few inches above the floor with a delicate pattern upon the material. It was surprisingly similar to the garden party dress that Sybil wore the day war was declared with Germany.

After looking at it with a critical eye, Mrs. Branson said, "This will not do. Not while you're marrying my Tom."

Sybil looked at Mrs. Branson about to protest, when Mrs. Branson carefully laid Sybil's dress on the back of one of the dining chairs and said, "Please excuse me while I get my box from my room."

"But-," said Sybil as Mrs. Branson left her alone at the table.

When Mrs. Branson returned with the box, she said, "The reason I don't think your dress will do is because I want to make you a wedding dress as my gift. I've been thinking about a design since I got your letters in March, but I wanted to get to know you a little before I made my decision. What do you think?"

Sybil was left speechless by the gift Tom's mother wanted to bestow. When she recovered her ability to speak, Sybil said, "I don't know what to say. That is a most generous gift. Thank you. Perhaps you could teach me how to use a sewing machine and some needlework while you're working on it."

"I'd be happy to teach you anything you want to learn," said Mrs. Branson with a smile. "I used to design and make dresses when I was young. Mairin and I did a few wedding dresses when she still worked. I made Mairin's dress when she got married and I plan to make one each for Cathleen and Niamh, if she ever wants to marry. I have yards and yards of the finest white silk that I bought when one of the mills went under when the older girls were young. Did you have anything in mind?"

"No, not really," said Sybil a little embarrassed. "My entire plan was to wear that dress."

As she rummaged through the box, Mrs. Branson took out some papers with dress drawings and said, "Sit here beside me. This is what I have thus far. Tell me what you think. Since you've asked Cathleen to be one of your bridesmaids, we can probably make a similar dress with less intricate detail for her. I presume your sisters will be your other bridesmaids."

"Yes," said Sybil as she sat down. "Though I haven't asked either of them in the rush after we told my family."

"If you ask them for their measurements," said Mrs. Branson as she pointed at various figures on a drawing. "I can design their dresses while we work on yours and Cathleen's, but there wouldn't be enough time for you, me and Cathleen to work on all four dresses in the five weeks remaining."

"How quickly could two dresses be made if we were to pay someone to make them?" asked Sybil as she realized that Edith and Mary probably would like to see the design and provide input. "Could it be done in a matter of a week?"

"It's definitely possible," said Mrs. Branson. "Why?"

"It's just that I'd like to ask my sisters in person and they don't arrive until the 29th of May," said Sybil.

"Would they say no?" asked Mrs. Branson, puzzled.

"I don't think so, but I would like their input on their dresses all the same," said Sybil with an imploring smile.

"I suppose you're right," said Mrs. Branson with a chuckle. "Sometimes I'm in such a hurry to get things done that I don't always think of what someone else might want. In any case, here are some of the designs I've drawn up. Tell me what you think."

A/N2: While this chapter doesn't have as many shocking plot developments, I think Sybil and Tom accomplished quite a bit. This is a more Sybil-centric chapter as we had to deal with the fallout from the last chapter. Besides how fun would it have been watching Tom think at work. Wait! Don't answer that! Don't worry too much, we'll be seeing some of Tom at work soon.

As always, please feel free to point out typos and grammatical errors. Sometimes no matter how hard you or your betas look, these things get missed (especially those pesky verb tenses with which I have so much trouble). As always, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter good or bad, so please do review. :)

P.S. Message in the reviews for Maeve Irish. :)