Glorious Party

Tom's eyes were on the road as he drove Lucy and Sybbie to Lord and Lady Grantham's anniversary dinner, but his mind was still on the letter he'd written recently to Sheena.

I don't know how many times I have to tell you and the rest of my family that I'm still loyal to Ireland, and I love that she is now an official republic. Where I live has no effect on that, and considering I've named my new children Erin and Patrick, that should be perfectly clear to everyone.

You are right that my Sybil's death was enormously difficult for me. Most of the time, I could barely step one foot in front of the other. The only things that saved me were my little Sybbie and believe it or not, my in-laws. And I can never repay them enough for that. I'm sorry if the end result is that I've changed, but I don't believe that I'm as different as you think.

After all, I'm still Catholic, as are all of my children. Furthermore, I know this is perhaps the most difficult thing of all for you to understand, but estate agents here aren't the devils they were in Ireland, and my job allows me to help the tenants as much as my in-laws.

I do love you as well, Sheena, and I wish we weren't so distant, but you must understand, the more you assume I've changed too much, the more I feel the need to be closer to my other family.

Tom turned another corner as the lights of the Abbey appeared in the distance. He shook his head, his hair flopping a bit. Perhaps he'd been too rough on his younger sister, as Sheena had only brought up topics Tom worried about himself. He'd thought he'd made his peace with his different politics, faith, and the Crawley's foolish adoration of the crown, but it was difficult sometimes.

But he couldn't bring himself to reveal those worries to anyone but Lucy. He smiled at his wife's kind, understanding face as he approached the gate. She looked lovely in the deep green gown that once belonged to her mother; as a former lady's maid, his wife was very good at mending and altering dresses.

"I still cannot believe Donk said I can sit in the dining room this year!" Sybbie said from the backseat as the gate was opened.

"He promised," Tom said warmly, reminding himself that tonight, all that mattered was to spend an evening with people he cared about, especially as his oldest daughter was looking forward to it so much.

Sybbie walked into Downton's great hall happily in her beautiful blue gown, which Lucy had also altered to fit their oldest daughter perfectly. Her long dark hair flowed against her back; she was considering bobbing it, as both Lucy, Aunt Mary, and her mother had done before she died, but so far she'd stayed away from the barbers.

Lucy, on the other hand, hid her nervousness well, but Tom knew she wasn't nearly as comfortable entering the great hall as Sybbie, or even him. He easily remembered how uncomfortable he was when he'd attended the Crawley's first house party after he'd joined their family. And this was different than the Christmas parties Lucy had attended in the past, as servants and tenants alike were invited to those.

"Keep holding your head high, love," Tom said into her ear as they walked through the doorway. "Remember, you are a guest here, just as much as everyone else. And you are welcome to stay close to me the entire time if you'd like."

Lucy's eyes met his in thanks as the temporary footman, Richard took her coat.

"Mr. Branson, Mrs. Branson, and Miss Sybil Branson," the butler, Mr. Johnson said as the three of them entered the crowded drawing room.

Sybbie immediately went to give her Donk a hug, and although Lord Grantham had been speaking to Lord and Lady Sinderby, his eyes lit up at the sight of her, and they embraced. The sight never failed to make Tom smile. When they withdrew, Lady Grantham smiled brightly and asked Sybbie something, which she responded.

Lord Sinderby sighed and looked at Tom. His face was stern, as usual, but his voice sounded somewhat concerned. "I was just telling Lord Grantham how much I hope my son will finally return to England this year. I'm not going to be around much longer, and I'd like for him to learn the practice of the estate. He's told me you and your wife are now running a smaller estate yourselves since her mother died."

"Yes, that's correct," Tom said, knowing how much it meant to Lucy that Lady Bagshaw had left her Brompton, and ignoring his Irish family's concerns that marrying an heiress was another example of how he was too attached to England now.

If that was the case, so be it. He squeezed Lucy's hand and a warmth filled his chest that had nothing to do with the nearby fireplace. To his pride, his wife looked straight at Lord Sinderby and said, "I admit it's been a struggle, but Brompton is doing well under our care now."

Her voice didn't even shake when speaking to the often hard man.

"See, Daniel?" Lady Sinderby said calmly. "We have nothing to worry about with Atticus. I admit, I'd like to see him more, but I also know he and Rose are happy in New York."

Still scowling, Lord Sinderby shook his head. "Rachel, you know that's not true. What about that business with the KKK in New York City a few years ago? The Gentiles are always looking for new ways to target us."

Tom's heartbeat faster, remembering the KKK when he and Sybbie had lived in Boston. Although their presence was more in Worcester, Massachusetts than Boston, it was one reason why he'd been glad to leave.

But Lady Sinderby shook her head. "Daniel, that organization hasn't been troublesome in years. Even in America, they have too much to worry about with the Depression to be concerned with that sort of thing."

"And even if they did, the KKK are more interested in scaring people than anything else," Tom said as rationally as he could. "They targeted Catholics, too, and some of my family had run-ins with them, but they didn't let the haters beat them."

Lord Sinderby stared at Tom for a moment, as if he was some sort of fool, and Tom felt just as uncomfortable as he did when he'd first arrived at Downton as Sybil's husband. "I think it would be better if you stayed quiet," Lord Sinderby said.

Fifteen years ago, if someone, least of all a fancy lord, said something like that to Tom, he would have exploded. But now, he didn't think it was worth the effort, and Tom knew Lord Grantham would be disappointed if someone made a scene at his anniversary party. So, he simply walked away, his heart still thundering, and clutching his wife's hand tightly.

She was the only one who truly understood his discomfort. "I'm glad you and Sybbie aren't in Boston anymore, especially if you had to worry about that 'KKK' Lucy said softy.

"Ah, Tom, Lucy, good to see you," said Cousin Isobel from the settee, where she and her husband, the Lord Merton, sat. Officially, Cousin Isobel was now 'Lady Merton' and she wore a tiara accordingly for these formal occasions. Still, titles didn't mean as much to her as the rest of the Crawley's, and Tom was used to referring her to as 'Cousin Isobel' because that was what Mary and Edith referred to her as.

Tom and Lucy immediately went to her, their feet light. Although they saw her less than the rest of the Crawley's, save Edith and Bertie, in many ways Cousin Isobel was far easier to talk to than the rest, considering how liberal-minded she was, despite her continued support of the crown.

She stood and gave them each a kiss on the cheek in greeting. "How are your children? I don't see them that often these days."

Lucy brightened even more, and Tom felt her relax. There was nothing she enjoyed more than discussing her children. "Well, Erin is doing well in her studies, so I'm told, and Patrick is growing so quickly! I can barely keep him in clothes, he is becoming such a big bloke." She sighed, and then her eyes scanned the room for Sybbie.

But where she'd just been was a mature redhead. Lady Rosamund had stopped to talk to Lord and Lady Grantham, which made sense as she was his sister, but Sybbie had clearly found the conversation a bit boring and had wandered.

"And Sybbie is becoming quite the young lady. She was beside herself when she heard Lord Grantham decided she was old enough to come tonight, being a grownup party and all."

Cousin Isobel smiled as she followed Lucy's eyes. "Isn't she, though? So much like her mother." Tom nodded. Although Sybbie's skin was fairer than Sybil's was the resemblance was striking, especially as his Sybbie was just as caring. "And even my George is away at Eton now, although he's home for the weekend, because of the party." At that point, a tall, blonde man greeted Sybbie, and Tom had to remind himself that it wasn't Mathew, the likeness was so strong.

"And he looks just as much, if not more, as my Mathew," Cousin Isobel said, her voice catching just a bit. "Mathew would be proud of him," she said, more happily.

Tom nodded as he continued to watch Sybbie and George interact. George wore a formal suit, just as all the men did, but no tails, thank goodness; they were a thing of the past. "Yes, I'm certain he is." Tom was also warmed by Mary and Edith's happy manner as they spoke to each other in the corner, both wearing tiaras and lovely silver gowns. His Sybil would love that her older sisters were finally getting on, it always bothered her to see them so at odds.

"Tom!" said Henry Talbot, his work partner in the motor shop and Mary's husband. "I bought a new used motor yesterday. It will take some work to fix up, but she'll be a beauty to sell."

Tom grinned, loving the sound of tinkering with an old motor and polishing her up to perfection. "Sounds great." He slapped Henry on the back, excited to discuss more. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy's eyes disappear, and Tom chastised himself. He'd promised his wife she could stay close to him tonight, and she was clearly uninterested in motors. "I'd love to hear more about it, but could we wait until tomorrow?"

"Of course." Henry nodded and wandered toward Mary.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Mary and Henry sat next to each other in the dining room along with George. Sybbie sat on his right side along with Tom and Lucy. On the other end of the table sat Lord and Lady Sinderby, Cousin Isobel and the Lord Merton, and Edith, Bertie, and Lady Rosamund. At the heads, of course, were Lord and Lady Grantham. Over all, there were fifteen people seated there, a far bigger party than they'd had at Downton in a long time.

Definitely since before the Dowager had died. Possibly even before Tom had joined the family. He hoped young Richard was up to serving everyone, but he seemed like a good lad. The finery was a bit excessive, in Tom's opinion, but Sybbie beamed in her gown, adoring how grownup she appeared, and that was enough for him.

Lord Grantham stood as Johnson poured the wine for the first course. "I'd like to thank everyone for celebrating our anniversary tonight. Forty-seven years, if you can believe it. And my Cora is one of the best parts of my life. Here, here."

With that he raised his glass, and everyone echoed it, while red appeared on Lady Grantham's cheeks, despite her smile.

OOOOOOOOO

"I hear you're making good marks at Eton, George," Lady Grantham said, look at her grandson as she placed some food on her plate. The second course took a while, as Richard served everyone, so they chatted among themselves, as tasty as the roast pheasant appeared on the trey.

George smiled, once again reminding Tom of Mathew, and raised his head to meet all of the adults. "Quite. I'm top of my class this term."

"I knew you'd do well," Mary said fondly, smiling at him with maternal pride. "Your just as intelligent as your father was."

Lord Grantham nodded at George with the same pride, but then he looked at Mary. "Don't sell yourself short; you are rather intelligent as well. After all, it is you who has been steering Downton almost fifteen years now, Mary."

Her reserved nature meant Mary didn't blush or cry at such a comment, but Tom knew her well enough to know how much it meant to her when she smiled and said, "Oh, Papa."

"Sybbie is quite intelligent as well," Tom said firmly, gazing at his oldest daughter. "Have you noticed how many books she reads from your library?"

Lord Grantham said nothing for a moment, but then he softened as he also looked at Sybbie. "Quite."

Sybbie beamed at both Tom and her Donk. "Yes, and I'm thinking more and more about what I'd like to do to serve people with all that knowledge."

"Ah. Perhaps she would be interested in Hillcroft, then?" Lady Rosamund said brightly, as if she didn't know, or care, that the table was becoming unnecessarily tense. "It's a great school for further education."

His heart increasing, Tom shook his head at his daughter. This wasn't the time to introduce the idea of her becoming a teacher; he still wasn't comfortable with it, and that was nothing compared to how Lord Grantham would react.

"Edith is also doing just as well, with her duties as a marchioness and writing on the side," Lady Grantham said smoothly, almost as if people wouldn't notice she was cleverly avoiding an argument. Then she smiled with pride at her middle daughter.

Edith, always a bit more emotional than Mary, positively glowed. "Thank you, Mama. I suppose I could say the same for you, with working at the hospital and keeping Papa happy." Lady Grantham blushed again, but her smile was still wide. "When we were younger, we used to find yours and Papa's affection…a bit bothersome. Yet when we married, we wished to have that for ourselves." She smiled at Bertie as she said that.

Mary nodded and smiled at Henry, while Lady Grantham smiled at her husband tenderly, creating a warm feeling in Tom's chest, especially as he returned her expression. When he was younger, he often wondered if Lord Grantham only loved his title and his estate, and Mary and Edith only loved Sybil.

But now, Tom realized he was letting his prejudice get in the way, something he'd often complained about his own family doing with Sybil when they'd first arrived in Ireland. Furthermore, English were unfortunately rather stoic, which meant it was hart to understand their emotions when a person didn't know them well.

He'd never forget his Sybil explaining that to him, her voice shouting passionate and hurt. "We have feelings, and don't make the mistake of thinking we don't!"

Now Tom smiled at Lucy just as tenderly as the others were looking at their spouses, especially as she placed the food on her plate without any trouble, and she gave him the same look in return.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOO

Much later that night, Robert smiled tenderly at Cora as he came into her room. "Darling, you did a marvelous job, as always, hosting the dinner party tonight." He removed his dressing gown and deposited it on the armchair in the corner, as he should. It was wonderful to return to the tradition of a proper dinner party at Downton, but it couldn't be done without his wife.

Cora smiled in return as she sat on the bed. Her white silk nightgown and braided grey hair only enhanced her natural beauty. "Thank you, and once again, I adore your words in the toast." She reached for his hand as he approached her and gently drew him onto the bed.

Laughing Robert said, "Oh? I thought perhaps I made you blush." He stroked her cheek where they tended to redden, even in her advanced years.

She giggled in return and put her hand on top of his. "I suppose you did, but I appreciate your words all the same." After all these years, Robert still found her ability to show emotions, even blushing, without embarrassment amazing, and he had to kiss her for that.

"Even Mary and Edith appreciated your words, Robert," Cora said softly, her blue eyes still gazing into his as they withdrew. "Remember Edith's remarks about how happy she and Mary were with their husbands as well?"

"Quite," Robert said, his chest filling with emotion. "There was a time I'd never thought…" He wasn't' certain he could put it into words, even speaking to his Cora, who he found it a bit easier to discuss feelings. "And even Tom is happy enough with Lucy now. It's nice that everyone in our family has…well…what we do. Or at least close to it."

"Oh Robert, I love you," Cora said against his cheek, and he had to kiss her again, this time lasting longer than the last. Her warm gentle hands rested on his shoulders and then squeezed his back.

"Was it truly necessary to invite Lord Sinderby, though," Robert said with a sigh after the kiss ended. He leaned his head against the headboard and she rested her head on his shoulder. "He can be rather tiresome." He'd gone on and on about Atticus in New York earlier tonight, as if his son's presence there was the end of the world. Now Robert wasn't fond of New York and was happy his children lived nearby, but how was Atticus living in New York Robert's fault?

His Sybbie had come to his rescue at the perfect time.

Cora shrugged, still resting on Robert's shoulder. "We've been over this before, darling. Rachel wants us to be friends, especially if Rose and Atticus return to England."

Robert was silent for a moment, unable to dispute that. And his wife was a nice woman. "At least Lord Sinderby is easier to handle with her presence." Then he chuckled at the irony. "Of course the same could be said for me. You have a good influence on me, darling." He kissed her grey locks, remembering all the times Cora had soothed his tensions in private or prevented his bad temper from exploding in public. It was yet another reason to be so happy they'd been married for forty-seven years.

Saying nothing, she caressed his bare chest in confirmation.

"And I still cannot comprehend George," Robert said, his mind returning to something else from that evening. "He's always resembled his father but tonight," he took a deep breathe, trying to collect his thoughts on this. "Maybe it's because we haven't seen him recently, with him at Eton, but it was almost as if…" Robert couldn't say it in the end; it sounded too foolish to say Mathew had come back to them.

But Cora understood exactly what he meant, as she lifted her head, her blue eyes shining with sincerity. "I know." Then she planted kisses all over his chest, filling him with warmth on the inside and outside.

He reached for the inside of her nightgown, wishing to give her the same feeling. Especially tonight.

"And then there's Sybbie," Robert shook his head as he stroked Cora's skin. "At least she's not grown up enough to stop greeting me with a hug, but there she was, wearing a gown and eating in the dining room." He tried not to think of Rosamund's suggestion about furthering her education.

"I don't think our Sybbie will ever be too grown up to give you hugs, Robert," Cora said, wrapping her arms around him herself. "She loves you too much." With that, she returned to covering his chest with warm kisses.

"I hope so, but I suppose she'll be presented next year," Robert said with a sigh. He still loathed seeing his little girls grow up, but the idea didn't bother him as much as it usually did. Not when he was feeling warm and fuzzy with Cora's kisses and stroking her bare skin. Besides, being presented was another tradition that were suddenly more necessary than ever.

Even she would be presented to Bertie…or George VI as he was apparently calling himself these days instead of Edward VIII.

"I suppose so," Cora said, although it came out as a giggle as Robert touched a particularly tender spot under her breast. "But we should probably focus on the next coronation first, as it will be in a few months. Edith and Bertie will be present as well, no doubt. We could sit with them."

"Quite right," Robert said. "But now I'd like to focus on other things." With that, he pulled off her nightgown. He planned to pay special attention to her beautiful stomach, which she'd become self-conscious about, particularly since she'd stopped wearing a corset.