Author's note: Thank you for the review, Mona Ogg! I really appreciate it!

October 1913

The excitement she felt inside her grew with every turn of the wheels of the train, every puff of smoke from the engine, every mile that brought her closer to home. Closer to him.

By the time the train reached York and was only half an hour or so from Downton, Mary could hardly contain the happiness she felt at almost being back with Tom.

Cora eyed her daughter in surprised amusement as the train pulled out of the city. 'You can barely sit still, Mary. I hadn't realised you were pining so much for Downton.'

Mary pulled her gaze from the familiar towers of York Minster and turned towards her mother, realising she needed to tone down her excitement before she gave herself away. 'It feels like we've been in London for eons, Mama. I'm simply excited to be at home, to see Sybil and to be able to walk in the fresh air again. I've missed that.'

'You walked in the royal parks with your Aunt Rosamund often enough,' Cora observed, mildly.

'Yes, but it's not the same. Even the parks suffer from the smog of the city. And it's still always noisy in London. I can't wait to stride through the woods and over the fields of Downton, soak in the peace and quiet. I might go today,' Mary replied, deftly seeding the idea of her going out walking as soon as possible. 'You know how I love to walk the estate.'

Cora smiled, glad to see her daughter happy again after the often trying social occasions they had faced in London these last few weeks. 'Sometimes, I think your father should put you to work alongside Jarvis as the agent. Your knowledge of the land must rival his by now.'

'Well, I would be happy to give my opinions on the estate to Jarvis, Mama, but I doubt very much he would pay them any heed,' Mary said dryly, picturing the rather staid, old-fashioned land agent who had worked for her father for the last fifteen years or so. 'I can't help but think he would rather farm the estate as if we were still in the Dark Ages rather than contemplate moving into the modern world, especially at the behest of a young woman.'

Cora laughed, privately agreeing with her daughter. 'Well, I am sure he knows what he is doing. And it would hardly be ladylike for you to be involved in running the estate, would it?'

'No, I suppose not. And anyway, I'm sure Papa would rather Matthew learned how to run the estate than have me meddling in affairs that will no longer concern me,' Mary replied, unable to repress completely the bitterness that still nibbled at her despite her decision not to kick against the entail any longer.

Silence fell in the carriage as Cora quietly rued bringing up a subject that was obviously still painful for her daughter. For Mary, the exchange had the effect of subduing her mood somewhat, which was possibly a blessing in disguise. She turned her head again and looked out at the countryside, waiting to see the familiar spire of the church at Downton that would signify she was almost home.

Mary scanned the platform as she stepped from the train assisted by the station master, but Tom was not there. She hadn't really expected to see him on the platform, but eager as she was to see him, part of her couldn't help but hope.

Her mother swept down the platform before her, heading for the exit and Mary followed her, almost tripping in her desperation to see him. As they left the station building, the motor came into view, sleek and polished to a gleam, and there standing beside it in his dark green livery was Tom.

Mary felt her heart constrict in her chest at the sight of him and she found herself biting her lip to clamp down on the urge to beam at him, so happy was she to see him after three long weeks. She longed to run to him, to throw herself into his arms and hug him tight. It was the sweetest torture imaginable to be able to see him after so long but not to be able to touch him.

'Good afternoon, your ladyship. Welcome home,' he said to her mother as he gave her his hand and helped her into the car.

'Thank you, Branson,' Cora said, accepting his hand.

Mary sucked in a quick breath at the sound of his voice – as melodic and soothing as she always found it – and beside her, Anna cast her a quick glance. Mary shot a look at her and nodded minutely, acknowledging the silent warning in her maid's eyes, knowing O'Brien was within earshot, fussing with her mother's hatbox.

At that moment, Tom turned his head towards her, his eyes locking with hers, and for a few precious seconds, it felt like there was no-one else in the world but them.

'Welcome back, milady,' he said, smiling and inclining his head slightly, simultaneously offering her his hand.

Mary took it, unable to resist squeezing his fingers and finding it impossible to suppress a smile when she felt him reciprocate. 'Thank you, Branson. It's wonderful to be back,' she said, nodding at him.

All the way back to the Abbey, Mary battled to keep from simply staring at either the back of Tom's head or his eyes in the mirror. Now and then, he looked up into the mirror and their eyes met. Each time it happened, Mary felt her heart jolt with excitement. She fancied she saw the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly and imagined he was sending her a secret smile just for her.

At the Abbey, her father came striding out of the door to greet them, seemingly delighted to have his wife and eldest daughter back at home.

Mary took advantage of her parents being in conversation as Tom handed her out of the car.

'This afternoon,' she whispered to him before adding in a louder voice, 'Thank you, Branson.'

He gave a minute nod in return, showing her he'd heard and understood and then went to unstrap the luggage while Mary walked forward to kiss her father.

Luncheon had been delayed slightly to accommodate their return, and by the time it was over, Mary was itching to get out and go to the cottage. She ran upstairs to get changed to find that Anna was already there and had laid out suitable walking clothes.

'Anna! I swear you're a mind reader sometimes!' Mary exclaimed in delight.

Her maid gave her a wry smile. 'Hardly, milady. It wasn't difficult to guess that you'd want to be going out as soon as you possibly could after luncheon.'

Mary paused as undid her blouse to change it. 'Am I that obvious?'

'You are going to go and see him, aren't you?' Anna said, quirking a knowing eyebrow.

'Yes.'

'I could tell. The way you looked at him when we got to the motor, it was… well, I saw it. I could see that you love him,' Anna said, still quite astounded by that fact.

'Could you?' Mary asked, half delighted, half horrified that Anna had seen her love for Tom on her face. 'Oh, goodness, I thought I was doing so well to hide my feelings. Do you think anyone else did?'

Anna shook her head. 'No, I don't think so. You're very good at hiding it, the both of you, but I was looking for it. I saw how you looked at him and how he looked at you. But I don't think her ladyship noticed anything if that's what you're asking.'

'Oh, thank heavens for that,' Mary said in relief, wrestling herself out of her blouse, exchanging it for the fresh one Anna had laid out. She looked up curiously at her maid. 'What exactly did you see? How did I look at him?'

'Like he was a glass of water in the middle of the desert,' Anna said with a smile. 'And he looked at you like you were the Holy Grail at the end of a long quest.'

'Did he?' Mary smiled, happiness bubbling up inside her.

'Yes, he did. It's definitely not one-sided this love affair of yours, milady. I can see that quite plainly.'

Mary grasped her maid's hands, pressing them tightly. 'I am so glad you know, Anna, so glad. I haven't been able to talk to anyone about any of this and it's… well, it's not overplaying it to say that Tom has changed my life. And the way I feel about him, I've never felt like this about anyone else.'

Anna smiled, touched by the happiness shining from her mistress. 'Love is a heady thing, isn't it?'

'It is, indeed. Between you and me, I never really expected to fall in love, so it's taken me completely by surprise how wonderful it feels.'

'I expect it's taken you by surprise who you've fallen in love with as well, hasn't it, milady?' Anna asked, amusement in her voice.

Mary huffed out a small laugh. 'Yes, it has. I can't deny that.'

'Well, you'd better hurry up and go to him. It's getting darker earlier now, and you know there will be trouble if you stay out past dusk,' Anna said, releasing Mary's hands.

'Yes, you're right,' Mary said, turning to continue changing her clothes. She looked over at Anna as she slipped into her skirt. 'Are you ever going to tell me who you're in love with?'

Anna paused in unpacking Mary's trunk and laying items on the bed. 'Maybe one day, but he doesn't know himself yet, so until I've been brave enough to tell him, I shall keep it to myself.'

'Is it someone I know?'

Anna smiled. 'Now, milady, I'm not going to fall for that. I'll tell you when I'm ready to tell you.'

Mary chuckled and turned her attention back to getting ready to go and visit her love. Anna was right – there was no time to waste.

The small motor was already parked close by Tom's cottage when she got there, so she knew he was already at home. Her heart racing, she knocked on the front door and turned the handle.

'Tom?' she called, stepping into the hallway.

He appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, dressed in his livery but with his jacket off. He stood there, staring at her as if he couldn't believe she was there, a happy smile spreading over his face. 'Mary,' he breathed.

Without taking her eyes off him, Mary pushed the door shut and with two steps, they were in each other's arms, his wrapped around her waist, hers tight around his neck.

'Oh, God, I've missed you so much, mo chuisle,' Tom whispered, his nose buried in her hair, breathing in her scent.

'I missed you too,' Mary answered, clinging to him, relishing being back in his arms after so long apart. 'So very much.'

'It nearly killed me not being about to hug you when I saw you at the station.'

'Me too. I wanted to kiss you so badly.'

'You can kiss me now,' he murmured, not moving a muscle, still keeping her wrapped tightly in his arms.

'I know, but I don't want to let you go just yet,' Mary replied, her eyes closed, savouring the feel of him pressed against her.

He chuckled and Mary smiled into his shoulder, both of them content to just stand there, locked together for a little while longer.

Eventually, Tom pulled his head back a little, watching as she raised hers and smiled at him. 'Hello, you,' she whispered.

'Hello, yourself,' he replied, gently rubbing his nose against the tip of hers. 'Can I kiss you now?'

'Oh, yes, please.'

He dipped his head and captured her lips in a kiss that started soft and sweet and gentle until Mary moaned and ran her tongue along his lips, and then it deepened, becoming more passionate.

'Oh, good Lord, I've definitely missed that,' Mary muttered breathlessly when the kiss broke.

'Over three weeks, I waited to do that,' Tom replied, dropping more kisses on her lips. 'I've dreamed about it.'

'So have I. And do you know what else I've dreamed about?' Mary asked, her face alight with love.

'What?'

'Lying on your bed with you, your arms around me, kissing until we can't feel our lips anymore,' she said, waggling her eyebrows cheekily.

Tom grinned at her, stroking his fingers along her back. 'Well, in that case, you'd better take your hat off and get up those stairs.'

Mary giggled, kissed him again, and hugged him some more before pulling free and reaching for the pins in her hat.

'So, tell me, how have you been? Did you get enough sleep while you were away?' Tom asked as they lay on his bed, his arm around Mary as she snuggled against him, her head on his shoulder.

She nodded. 'Yes, it wasn't too bad. I still didn't sleep much at night, but I managed to sleep some in the afternoon when Mama was otherwise engaged, so I don't think she noticed. It might have been a problem if we'd been out and about during the afternoons like we might usually have been, but that wasn't an issue given that nobody wanted to receive me.'

Tom tilted his head to look at her. 'Was it that terrible being in London?'

Mary shrugged, trying to downplay the unaccustomed sense of loneliness and isolation she'd experienced during her three weeks in London. 'It wasn't much fun. The rumours about me seem to be quite entrenched. I had a couple of unpleasant encounters and more than a few cold shoulders to deal with.'

'What do you mean "encounters"?' he asked, his protective side kicking in. 'Did something happen?'

'I had a run-in with the would-be fiancée of a friend of mine, who simply wouldn't believe that I didn't give myself to that man even when Evelyn – who was here that weekend – told her I had nothing to do with his death,' Mary said, tracing a pattern on his chest.

'I think that says more about her nature than yours, love,' Tom said, reassuringly.

'Hmm, probably. Evelyn was very unimpressed with her. Put it this way, I don't think she did her chances of marrying him any good.'

'What else happened?'

'Hmm?' Mary hedged, suddenly realising that she'd inadvertently put herself in a position where she'd have to tell Tom about Percy Allingham.

'You said "encounters" plural. Did something else happen?'

Mary was quiet, wondering how to tell him that she'd evaded another sexual assault.

'Mary? What are you not telling me?' Tom asked, tucking his finger under her chin and tipping her face up towards him. 'Did something else happen?'

She sighed, biting her lip, knowing she had to tell him. 'Yes. There was an… incident at a ball last Saturday.'

'An incident? What happened?'

'I went onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air, and someone followed me out there.'

Tom tensed, a sense of foreboding coming over him. 'Who? Who followed you?'

'His name's not important, but he'd heard the rumours and thought that… well, he thought he could have me.'

'He thought he could have you…' Tom echoed, his whole body stiffening with anger.

Quickly, Mary lifted up onto her elbow and lay her hand flat on his chest, shaking her head. 'He thought wrong, Tom. And I have you to thank for what I did. He cornered me and he grabbed me, but I heard your voice in my head telling me to fight back and I did. I kneed him in his groin and then I squeezed his privates hard enough to make him weep and made him apologise to me.'

Tom stared at her, half horrified that she'd had to experience yet another man making unwanted advances towards her, and half impressed that she'd fought him off.

'You should have seen him wheezing and begging me to let go of him. You'd have been proud of me,' she said, a small smile on her face as she remembered Allingham's red face and wide, shocked eyes.

Tom lifted his hand, stroking her cheek. 'I am proud of you, mo chuisle. I just wish you hadn't found yourself in that position in the first place.'

'Well, he'll think twice before he does it again. My reaction certainly took him by surprise,' she said, nuzzling her cheek against his hand as she gazed down at him. 'I did what you taught me to do.'

'I hope you made the bastard's eyes pop,' Tom replied, stroking a thumb over her cheekbone.

Mary chuckled. 'I did. It was most satisfying to see him cry like a baby.'

'That's my girl,' Tom said, pulling her down to kiss him.

When they eventually came up for air again, Mary gave him a look, knowing there was something else she needed to tell him.

'While I'm telling you about things that happened in London, I have a confession to make. Anna knows about us,' Mary said, feeling somewhat apprehensive about how he might feel about one of his colleagues in the staff knowing about their affair.

'You told her?' Tom asked in surprise.

'Not exactly. She found your letters and your notes when she was packing my things to come home, and she asked me about them. She guessed the notes were from you because you signed them all TB, you silly thing,' Mary said, swatting him on his chest.

'My notes?' he asked, cocking an enquiring eyebrow. 'Do you mean the notes I leave for you when you come here?'

'Yes.'

'You keep them?' he asked, a smile beginning to form on his lips.

'Of course, I do. What did you think I did with them?'

'I thought you threw them away.'

'No! I… no, I keep them. I put them in my handbag and take them home,' Mary said, suddenly beginning to feel a little foolish.

Tom's face broke into a grin and he rose up, rolling her onto her back and dipping down to kiss her lips. Mary gazed up at him in surprise.

'Mary Crawley, you're turning into a romantic,' he teased. 'All that talk about you being a pragmatist and here you are keeping my silly notes about milk and whatnot.'

She tried to bite back a smile. 'How very dare you. I am not a romantic.'

'You are. At the very least, it's a sentimental thing to do. When did you start keeping my notes?'

'From the first one,' she said, feeling butterflies fluttering in her chest at the look he got in his eyes when she admitted that.

Tom traced his fingertip over her lip, a delighted smile on his face. 'From the first one? Does that mean you were already thinking of me like this then?'

'No. I just wanted to keep it,' she said, laughing as he raised his eyebrow, clearly not believing her. 'Oh, all right, maybe I was having fond thoughts about you.'

'Fond thoughts?'

'Yes. Very fond thoughts.'

Tom chuckled and bent his head to kiss her again. Mary let him, kissing him back, and then pushed at his chest, forcing him away from her.

'All right then, when did you first start thinking about me in that way?' she asked, curious to know when his feelings for her had begun to develop.

He smiled, dropping a few kisses onto her lips, not saying anything.

Mary pushed lightly at his chest again. 'Don't try and distract me. Tell me. Or don't you remember?'

'Oh, I remember exactly when I wanted to kiss you for the first time,' he murmured, kissing along her jawline and then raising his head to grin at her.

'When?' she asked, burning with curiosity.

'That first day you came here.'

'The first day?' Mary squawked in surprise. 'What, the very first day?'

'Yes.'

'But I was a weeping, sickly mess that day. What on earth made you want to kiss me then?'

'It was after we'd talked, and you asked me what my first name was. You were holding my hand and you'd been so brave and so honest, and I just looked at you and thought, "I really want to kiss this woman",' Tom said softly, remembering that moment.

Mary stared at him, taken aback that he'd felt something for her so soon after they'd met properly. 'But you didn't kiss me.'

'No. It wouldn't have been right. Not after everything you'd been through. I wanted to be there for you, to help you. I couldn't have done that if I'd acted on what I felt. You wouldn't have been able to trust me like you did if I'd kissed you. Although at that moment, it did feel like something passed between us, like perhaps it wasn't just me. Or did I imagine that?'

Mary thought back, reliving that moment, and then she shook her head. 'No, you didn't imagine it. I felt something too. A connection of some kind.'

He nodded. 'Yes, a connection.'

'I thought maybe it was just because you'd been so kind to me on the worst day of my life, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe it was the start of this.'

Tom smiled. 'Maybe. Maybe it was two souls recognising each other.'

Mary huffed out a small laugh. 'And you accused me of being the romantic when really it's you.'

'No, I said you're turning into a romantic,' Tom protested, laughing. 'I know I'm a romantic. I embrace that fact. I'm not ashamed of it.'

'You're soppy, that's what you are,' Mary smiled up at him, looping her arms around his neck.

'I'm soppy for you,' he agreed, genially. 'But I think you might be a little bit soppy for me too.'

'Maybe a little bit,' she said coyly, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face.

'Yet you were the one claiming to be a pragmatist who never expected to fall in love,' he said, teasing her.

'Well, I didn't! You took me by surprise.'

Tom's face softened as he gazed down at her. 'So, you are in love with me, then?'

Mary stilled, the merriment on her face fading into something more serious. 'Yes, I am. I'm head over heels in love with you.'

Tom felt his heart clench at her words. 'I love you, too,' he said, his voice low and full of feeling.

She cupped her hand around his face. 'That's the first time you've said that in English,' she said, almost breathless with emotion.

'I can say it in Gaelic, too, if you want me to,' Tom murmured, brushing the tip of her nose with his. 'Tà grà agam duit, mo chuisle. English or Gaelic, it's true. I do love you. So very much.'

Mary smiled, her heart fit to burst, and pulled him down on top of her, desperate to feel his lips on hers, to show him just how much she loved him too.

'You're back then,' Thomas said as Miss O'Brien walked up to him in the yard, already pulling a cigarette from the packet in her hand.

'Aye. For my sins. Give us a light.'

He dug in his pocket for his lighter and flicked it open, sparking the flint to create a flame, and she bent her head to light her fag. She took a deep draw on it as he closed and trousered his lighter. He watched her blow a stream of smoke skywards.

'Oh, I needed that,' she said in relief. 'I've not stopped since we got back.'

'Anna didn't get you sacked then?' Thomas said, unable to resist the temptation to needle Miss O'Brien after her spiky letter about Lady Mary's correspondence.

'No, she didn't. No thanks to you. It was only my quick thinking that got me out of that pickle,' Miss O'Brien said, shooting him a sharp look. 'What about you? Have you befriended the chauffeur? Got him to spill his guts to you?'

Thomas rolled his eyes. 'Course, I haven't. Branson doesn't like me. He wouldn't give me the steam off his piss, never mind confide in me if he's having a secret affair with one of his lordship's daughters.'

'Not just one of them; the eldest one. Lady Hoity-toity herself.'

'Does it matter which one it is if he is getting his leg over with a Crawley?'

'Does it matter? Of course, it matters,' Miss O'Brien said, scathingly. 'Oh, don't get me wrong, it would be a rare old scandal if it were either of the other two, but Lady Mary? Well, that's really going to set the cat amongst the pigeons if it's true. The eldest, the biggest, richest heiress, the one the Dowager fancies as a future Duchess? If she's having it away with a lowly chauffeur, we could probably sell that to the newspapers.'

Thomas cocked his head, his cigarette forgotten for a moment. 'The newspapers? You think they'd be interested?'

'Oh, aye. I read some of the London ones while I was down there. They like a bit of scandal, they do. A bit of salacious gossip. There's definitely brass to be had if you've got a good enough story to sell. I reckon Lady Mary bedding the chauffeur would qualify for that, don't you?'

'You really think there's money in it?'

'I know there is. And it's better in our pockets than theirs, isn't it? So, one way or another, we need to find out what's going on with him and her,' Miss O'Brien said, decisively. 'So, you'd better get your thinking cap on, Thomas, and conjure up a way we can get confirmation of it.'

'Did you see anything pass between them when he picked her and her ladyship up at the station?' Thomas asked.

Miss O'Brien shrugged. 'Not so you'd notice. I think he welcomed her home and she said thank you, but that was it. Mind you, her ladyship was right there. He's hardly going to start professing his love for her at the station in front of loads of folk, is he? He's not stupid.'

'Hmm. So, how are we going to find out then?'

'Well, I don't know, do I? We'll have to give it some thought, won't we? But I'm telling you now, if it involves anything risky, you'll be the one doing the business, not me. I'm not risking my position.'

Thomas rolled his eyes and sucked on his fag. Somehow, he knew that was going to be a refrain he'd hear a lot in the coming weeks.

Tom straightened the bed covers as Mary tried to fix her hair in his little mirror.

'So, Anna knows about us, then?' he asked, going back to Mary's confession before they got side-tracked.

Mary glanced at him in the mirror, trying to judge how he was taking that news. 'Yes, she does. Are you cross with me for telling her?'

He shook his head. 'Of course, I'm not. Besides, you said she found out; you didn't tell her.'

'Yes, that's right.'

'And what did she say?'

'She was surprised, but she won't give us away. She's very loyal.'

Tom nodded, standing upright, and watching her as she fiddled with her hair. 'She probably thinks we're mad, though, doesn't she?'

Mary patted her hair one final time and turned around to face him. 'She's… cautious, I think might be the right word. She thinks - '

Tom cocked his head as she broke off mid-sentence. 'What does she think?'

'She said… she said I was naïve if I thought you and I could last,' Mary said, reluctantly.

He pushed his hands into his pockets, looking at her across the bed, his face serious. 'Well, she's not wrong, is she?'

'You don't know that!' Mary replied, passion rising in her voice. 'We don't know what the future holds.'

Tom regarded her carefully. 'We know that nobody's going to accept me as a suitable husband for an earl's daughter.'

Mary felt a jolt of emotion rock her body at his words. He was right; she knew he was right, but she didn't want to think about that. 'But maybe there's another way,' she said, remembering a conversation she'd had a few weeks ago with her mother.

'What other way?'

'Mama told me that many married women take a lover,' Mary said, raising her head defiantly. 'Perhaps that's a way we could be together.'

Tom pulled in a deep breath, her words striking him hard, harder than he'd imagined. 'And that's what you want for us, is it? Me as your secret lover?'

'Isn't that what you are now?' Mary asked, feeling a flutter of panic in her chest at the look on his face.

'That's different,' he said, shaking his head.

'Why? Nobody but Anna knows about us now. Why would it be any different if nobody knew about us in the future?'

He pressed his lips together, fighting back the hurt he felt. 'Because you'd be married to someone else. Not to me.'

'Only in name! It would still be you I loved!' Mary cried, feeling like this conversation was spiralling out of control.

Tom stared at her and then took a step back towards the door. 'I don't think we should keep talking about this. Let's have a cup of tea, shall we? Then I'll take you home.'

'But I didn't go out in the motor. Won't it be suspicious if I come home with you?' Mary asked, trying to remain calm as her heart hammered in her chest, rocked by what had just happened.

Tom shook his head, his hand on the door handle, still edging away from her. 'No, I think it will be fine. We can just say I happened to drive past you on the estate on your way back from your walk and I brought you home. It'll be dark soon, so no-one will think twice about that. I'll go down and put the kettle on.'

'Tom,' Mary said, stopping him in his tracks as he moved to leave the room. He looked across at her, his servant's blank on his face and her heart sank. 'Are we… are you… are you cross with me?'

He was silent for a few seconds before answering and Mary felt her heart stutter as she wondered if she'd just ruined their reunion after all these weeks apart.

'No, love,' he said, finally. 'I just don't want to talk about the future. Not now when I've only just got you back. You finish getting yourself tidied up and then come down. I'll have a cup of tea waiting for you.'

He sent her a small smile and then disappeared out of the room.

Mary listened to his footsteps on the stairs and sank down onto the edge of the bed, cursing herself for floating the idea of him being her lover when she eventually had to marry.

It was something she'd been thinking about since her mother had first mentioned it. It seemed like the ideal solution to their problem. With the social gap between them, Tom was right when he said he'd never be accepted as her husband. It wouldn't even be an option, and Mary knew she would be shunned by polite society if she married the chauffeur. But if they were discreet about it, he could be her lover when she was married. She could take him with her to her own household and they could continue to be together in secret. But apparently, Tom wasn't ready to contemplate that. Not yet.

Mary took a deep breath and stood up, smoothing her hands down her skirt. She'd have to bide her time and play the long game. It was the only way she could see for them to be together in the future. She'd just have to give him time to come around to the idea.

Luckily, it wasn't something they'd have to worry about for a while. Right now, she'd go downstairs and show him once again how happy she was to be back at home with him.

Anna was alone in the boot room cleaning a pair of Lady Mary's shoes when Tom went to wash his hands before dinner. She looked up when he came in and then glanced at the door and nodded towards it. Tom pushed it shut and waited for her to say her piece.

'She's told you I know?' Anna asked, fairly sure Lady Mary would have put him in the picture.

'Yes.'

She gazed at him as if weighing him up. 'Do you know what you're doing?'

Tom let out a small, rueful laugh, shaking his head. 'No, not in the slightest. All I know is that she's everything to me.'

The look on Anna's face changed to one closer to sympathy. 'You know it can never come to anything, don't you?'

He blew out a long, resigned breath. 'I know.'

'And that doesn't give you pause?'

'Of course, it does.'

'But not enough to put a stop to it?'

Tom sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. 'I can't stop it. I tried to fight it when I realised I was falling for her, but I can't change how I feel.'

Anna gazed at him, her heart going out to him as she thought about her own situation. 'No, I suppose you can't.

'I'm not stupid, Anna. I know she can never be mine, but however much I tell myself that, I can't stop loving her.'

'So, you do love her?'

'With my whole heart.'

'Even though she'll break your heart in the end?'

'Even though she'll shatter it into a thousand pieces,' he said, quietly.

'She won't mean to hurt you,' Anna said gently even though she knew that didn't change anything.

'I know that. But she will anyway.'

Anna stared at him, wishing there was something she could say to reassure him but knowing they both knew how this thing between him and Lady Mary was going to end.

'It's not easy, is it, Mr Branson? Loving someone with your whole heart.'

'No, it's not,' he said, sharing a look with her. 'You think he's going to break your heart too, do you?'

'Who?' Anna bluffed, pretending not to know who he was talking about, shocked that he might have guessed her secret.

'Mr Bates,' Tom said, looking steadily at her.

Anna flushed, biting her lip. 'How did you know?'

'Maybe I recognised a kindred spirit,' Tom said, softly. 'But at least you have a chance of him realising he can't live without you and he'd be a fool to let you get away.'

Anna walked towards him, pressing her hand to his arm, a small gesture of sympathy. Tom looked down at her as she stood beside him.

'I'm here if you want to talk to someone, Mr Branson,' she said, returning his look, compassion in her eyes.

'Thank you, Anna,' he said, gratefully. 'And, please, call me Tom.'

She smiled. 'I suppose I should if we're to be friends.'

He smiled back at her. 'And the offer is reciprocated. I'm here if you want to talk to someone too. I'm a good listener.'

'So I've heard,' Anna said, squeezing his arm. 'And from someone who rarely takes anyone into her confidence. That's high praise, indeed.'

A clatter of boots on the flagstones outside the door made her pull away from him and reach for the door handle.

'Anna,' Tom said as the maid opened the door. She looked back at him. 'You're a good friend to her.'

Anna gazed at him and then nodded. 'Yes, I am. But that doesn't mean I can't be a friend to you, too.'

Tom ducked his head in gratitude as she smiled at him once more and left the room. He walked over to the sink, turning the tap on, thinking back over the day. The high of seeing Mary again and holding her in his arms, kissing her lips; and then the low of her suggesting he could be her dirty, little secret when she married.

He knew in his bones that he would not be able to stand watching her share her life with another man while he lived a half-life in the shadows. And yet what was the alternative if he was to stay in her life? Tom pushed that thought ruthlessly aside, deciding to deal with it by not thinking about it until he needed to. For now, Mary was home and she was his. He would focus on that instead, not on what may or may not happen in the future.