What Do We Do?

Robert still couldn't believe Tom's reaction when he'd suggested they start to prepare for Sybbie's presentation next year. And in the past week, things hadn't improved. Tom scowled at Robert when he picked up Erin in the afternoon, and often made a biting comment.

Earlier today, Robert had said they should submit Sybbie's name to the committee again, and another shouting match began. Poor little Erin had looked as uncomfortable as Cora always did during an argument, and it made Robert feel even worse, as he loathed seeing his loved ones sad.

"Cora, what are we going to do about Sybbie's presentation?" he said as he entered her room in his dressing gown late that night. Robert couldn't bear the idea of one of his girls not being presented. Especially with all the traditions being destroyed in the past year.

Cora sighed, sitting on their bed in her silk white nightgown. "I don't know that there is anything we can do, darling. Sybbie is still Tom's daughter, and we cannot go against his explicit wishes."

Robert threw his dressing gown on the corner armchair with far more force than normal. There was a part of him that thought submitting her name now, without Tom's approval, was the best option, particularly considering how much time the committee might need to consider her. But his Cora would clearly never agree.

He couldn't decide whether this situation made him more cross or sad. Robert just knew it shouldn't be happening. "But it's Sybbie, Cora," he said, using one of the same arguments he'd already tried with Tom. Robert had watched Sybbie grow up from a baby who would coo for him after tea, to a toddler who'd insisted on calling him "Donk", to a child who loved playing snakes and ladders even in the library, to a girl who'd participated in Tom and Lucy's wedding and had become a great big sister, to a young woman who'd sat in his dining room. Through it all she'd greeted him with loving hugs and smiles, with a face that reminded him so much of her mother.

How could Sybbie not also have one of the most important ceremonies as young woman in her honor? How could Robert not have the chance to dance with his oldest granddaughter at her own ball?

"I know," Cora said in her soft, soothing voice. She held her hand out to invite him to sit on their bed and he did so. "I was looking forward to preparing her gowns and bows, and planning her ball, just as I did for our girls and Rose. I know she would have been beautiful." Her eyes sparkled with longing, and he knew she felt the same way he did. Giving Sybbie a presentation was the best way of showing their love.

His heart swelled with adoration for Cora and his hand stroked her cheek. In return, she pulled him closer and kissed him, his heart expanding even more.

"But darling, I think we have forgotten that Tom doesn't value these things the way we do," Cora said as they withdrew, although her face was still close enough to feel her breath tingle against his face. "We both know he's not a monarchist." Robert sighed, loathing to be reminded of such unpleasant things, although his wife's sweetness caused it to be a bit easier.

He thought back many years, to when Tom had first moved into Downton Abbey with little Sybbie, while all of them grieved for Sybil. The young man's presence as a socialist and an Irish revolutionary had made Robert uncomfortable, and they'd fought often. But Tom had changed from socialist to capitalist, and now helped their family keep their estate just as much as Mary, in addition to marrying the heiress of Brompton.

Tom had even accepted George V and Queen Mary's visit to Downton ten years ago. Was that truly the actions of a man who loathed the monarchy? "I thought he'd left those ways behind him," Robert said with a grumble.

"Darling, calm down," Cora said softly but firmly. Her hands, although much more wrinkly than smooth, felt just as soft on his torso as she stroked him, paying particular attention to the spot which had once had surgery. "You are becoming too tense." Then her blue eyes gazed into his, breathing deeply.

"It's not as easy for me to do so as you, darling" Robert said, still wondering what had happened to the Tom who had accepted their way of life and what it means for his Sybbie that Tom no longer did. But Cora's soothing hands on his skin gave him something else to focus and soon he was breathing deeply along with her.

"That's much better," she said with a smile, leaning over for another kiss.

She made him feel so warm and comfortable that he kissed her back and then rained kisses up and down her face and neck, much to Cora's delight. That silk nightgown made her look especially lovely in the soft light.

"But don't you think our Sybbie should like to have a presentation?" Robert said much softer, looking into Cora's beautiful blue eyes as he kissed below her ear. There had to be a way to do this. "She has always loved the beautiful dresses we buy for her, and she was thrilled to be allowed to join everyone in the dining room for our anniversary celebration."

Cora sighed and her face appeared weary of discussing this. "You may be right about that, but we still cannot do anything against Tom's wishes. Sybbie may be our granddaughter, but she's his daughter." She wrapped her hands around his waist again. "Good night, Robert."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOOO

Tom sealed the envelope of the letter he'd written the night before, still scowling at Lord Grantham's behavior. The man had clearly forgotten she was Tom's daughter, something he'd needed to rectify as soon as possible.

And it all started with this letter, which Tom still had memorized.

Dear Kieran,

I know you're probably still a bit sore at me for choosing to stay with my in-laws instead of joining you in Liverpool after my Sybil died. At the time, I thought it was best to be around people who loved her as well. It also helped to prove myself to my father-in-law which gave me a purpose after her death. And I was extremely surprised and touched by how much he loved my Sybbie, even if she is half-Irish and the daughter of his former chauffeur.

But now, I believe you may have been correct all along. That's hard for me to admit, Kieran, and I hope you know that, but I think it's more and more true with what has happened last week.

Lord Grantham believes my Sybbie should be presented to the king! I suppose this is what I get for living among, and near monarchists. I thought by keeping quiet about how uncomfortable things are with their politics, I was keeping the peace and allowing my daughter, and all my children to be surrounded by love.

However, now it's clear that I need to distance myself and my children from the Crawley's.

On that note, and even more than that for Sybbie's sake, I hope you will come to the Grantham Arms for her birthday next month. She needs to see her godfather more than she does and definitely should understand her Irish side more.

Sincerely,

Tommy

He fingered the letter with one hand, while he wrapped his other arm around Erin as they prepared to begin their day. "Love, why don't we enroll you in the village school instead of learning from the Abbey's tutor? Things between Donk and I are a bit too tense lately, and it would be good for you to play with other children in the area."

Erin sighed, her blue eyes darting around the Brompton drawing room in confusion. "I don't like seeing you and Donk argue, but I really like Miss Higgins, and I love seeing Cousin Caroline every day. Besides, didn't you say when I started that the village school might not be the best place for me?"

Tom scowled, wishing his daughter wouldn't use his own words against him, even in her innocence. It was true that he'd been uncertain about placing his daughter in the village school, as he worried, she might be targeted because of her mixed heritage. It was odd, but it seemed working-class English often judged Irish more than Lord Grantham's class; Tom supposed they liked believing there was someone below them.

So, he'd been thrilled when Mary and Lord Grantham had offered Erin a place with Caroline's tutor. It also didn't hurt that Erin would likely learn more with an instructor who had less students to occupy her time.

But now, Tom was forced to see the negative side of being so close to the Crawley's. They all expected him and his family to be monarchists. That wasn't an option, especially with most of Ireland finally free of the British Crown. "Things are different now, Erin," he said, squeezing her tightly with his arm. "We should try the village school."

Erin stared at Tom with sad eyes. "We can't you and Donk just stop fighting?"

"Yes, Dad," Sybbie said, coming up from behind him. "Why can't you and Donk stop this quarrel? I'm tired of hearing all of this from Erin, just because of my presentation. I love both you and Donk and hate to see you so at odds."

Tom whirled around to stare at his oldest, shocked that she was aware of so many details of the argument. He'd been trying to protect her from this, especially as he knew she wouldn't like to be caught in the middle between her father and her grandfather, whom she adored.

He should have known Erin would tell her sister everything she heard them say. It was another reason to keep his middle daughter from Downton Abbey. "I wish you didn't have to worry about this Sybbie," Tom said, scowling again. Lord Grantham caused too much trouble for Tom's family. "But I'm afraid Donk is being stubborn again."

Sybbie sighed. "I know he can be stubborn," she said affectionately. "That's why I think I should do the presentation if it's that important to him. And he'll be more likely to give his blessing for me to train to become a teacher if I do his presentation first."

Staring at Sybbie hard, Tom tried to understand what she'd just said, searching for his daughter inside those blue eyes. "You want to be presented to the king?" That couldn't possibly be true, especially with all the Irish works she'd read lately. Last month, she'd even admitted she knew about the new Irish constitution.

His daughter shrugged much too nonchalantly for such an important discussion. "I don't truly mind one way or another, but I love Donk, and I want to please him. But I've decided I really do want to become a teacher Dad, and you know Donk is more likely to agree to that if we humor him about the presentation." It was an impressive argument. Once again, Tom was reminded that Sybbie wasn't a little girl anymore. But what was he to do now? He still recoiled about her being presented.

Tom glanced upstairs, wishing Lucy would appear with an answer or any way through this situation that was only becoming more complicated by the moment. But she didn't. She was still tending to Patrick.

He sighed and took Erin's hand, still clutching his letter to Kieran with the other. "I suppose we'll still go to the Abbey today," he said, but the anger and confusion still swirled all through his body.

What would they do?

OOOOOOOOOO

Tom mailed the letter to Kieran he brought Erin to the Abbey. Then he spent the day with Henry at the motor shop, attempting to drown all thoughts of Lord Grantham, the king, and worst of all the idea that his Sybbie might be presented. All that mattered at Branson and Talbot motors was the sound of engines, the smell of kerosene, and customers who wished to buy their new motels.

Unfortunately, all the unpleasant matters returned to the forefront of Tom's mind when he arrived at the Abbey to retrieve Erin. He scowled at Lord Grantham, as the older man drank his tea, unable to believe that Sybbie wanted to be presented because of him.

"It's time to go, Erin," Tom said. although his eyes were still on Lord Grantham.

Erin's eyes darted from her father to Lord Grantham again, clearly still not liking this tension. But what was Tom to do under these circumstances? "Goodbye, Donk," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, which the older man responded. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." She looked at her father pointedly, almost demanding he agree to that.

But Tom remembered his promise to Kieran, about distancing his family from the Crawley's, however more difficult it would be than he thought. "We will see what happens tomorrow, Erin," he said, still scowling at Lord Grantham.

Lord Grantham immediately put his teacup down and stood. "Excuse me? You are not only preventing my Sybbie from the honor of being presented, but you are also considering taking Erin away from us as well?" His voice grew louder until everyone at the Abbey probably heard.

Tom shook his head at the man. "I don't like the influence you have over my family."

Erin hugged Lord Grantham around the waist tightly. "I won't let Daddy take me away from you." And Tom felt his heart sink to his shoes. Every time he thought he had an answer, it only became more complicated.

"What's all this commotion about now?" said Lady Grantham in the doorway of the library, as she and Caroline had apparently just returned from the hospital.

"Tom just implied that Erin may not return to the Abbey for her studies tomorrow," Lord Grantham said, spitting out the words and clutching Tom's daughter to him tightly.

Everyone in the room stared at him, like he was a villian. It felt suspiciously like the time he'd escaped to Downton when he'd been an Irish freedom fighter and had been arrested. No one had understood him then, either, except Sybil.

Sometimes Tom missed Sybil fiercely.

"Erin, would you like an extra cuddle with Donk while I take a walk with your father?" Lady Grantham said in her trademark calm voice. Erin automatically squealed with delight, and Tom sighed and followed Lady Grantham.

"Go inside and have some tea, Caroline," Lady Grantham said sweetly, giving her other granddaughter a goodbye hug.

Both Tom and Lady Grantham walked in silence for several moments after exiting the Abbey. The wind swirled around them, causing Tom to be glad he had a coat. But he knew what was coming. The lecture about "taking Erin away from them."

Tom was just about to say that he'd decided to allow her to continue her studies with Miss Higgins, after all, when Lady Grantham said, "I understand you see the world differently than most of our family does, Tom, and that must be overwhelming sometimes."

Stunned at how well Lady Grantham appeared to understand, he stopped and stared at her. Her hair was grey, and skin was wrinkled, but she reminded him a lot of Sybil in that moment. "But Lord Grantham and I love Sybbie, and Erin, and Patrick. Please keep that in mind."

Tom sighed. "I've already decided Erin will continue with her studies with Miss Higgins. She's doing well with her." With that he continued walking, uncertain what else to do. The bright green grasses that covered the Downton estate were suddenly interesting.

"That's wonderful to hear," Lady Grantham's voice said softly. "But beyond that, please be careful when speaking to my husband. I know he can be difficult, as he has quite a temper. Nonetheless, this stress isn't good for Robert with his ulcer. And he's had a few pains last month."

Tearing his eyes from the grass, Tom stared at her. He'd almost forgotten about Lord Grantham's health problems, as it had been so long since they'd been an issue. But clearly, the problems were still something to worry, especially as Lady Grantham had used Lord Grantham's first name when speaking to Tom.

Had she ever done that before?

"Robert probably won't want me to tell you this, but I worry," she said, her voice sounding almost tearful. Her face turned, as if she might not want Tom to see her weep.

What if Lord Grantham's ulcer burst again, just as it had in the dining room before, only this time Dr. Clarkson couldn't save him? How would Sybbie react if she lost her Donk because of stress? Or even Erin? And as angry as Tom was at Lord Grantham now, did he truly wish to lose his father-in-law?

He remembered the sheer terror he felt when Lord Grantham had vomited blood all over the dining room table. The wind smacked against Tom's cheek, as if it wished to reprimand him for his behavior against a man he'd grown to love over the years.

OOOOOOOOOO

"Did you tell Donk I'd do his presentation today?" Sybbie asked as soon as Tom and Erin opened the door to their home. Her words smacked against Tom's ear and the firmness in her voice only added to the hurt.

The whole idea of this presentation felt heavier than this morning, especially after Lady Grantham had told him about Lord Grantham's ulcer pains. "No, I'm afraid I didn't," he said to Sybbie, with a sigh. He glanced around the drawing room, so much smaller than the Abbey, as if had answers. Or at least some comfort.

"Why not?" said Sybbie, her voice growing louder. "If I'm the one being presented, it should be my choice whether I do it or not."

"Sybbie, you just don't understand how difficult this is for me," Tom said, his own voice growing. Just this morning, he'd been determined to distance his family from the Crawley's, and this afternoon he'd realized that was almost impossible. What could he do?

Sybbie huffed. "And you don't understand me at all, Dad." Her hands flew through the air in her frustration. "Tomorrow I'll tell Donk I will do the presentation myself. I want to look at the Downton Library again for new books, anyway."

"But Sybbie – " Tom said his heart racing as his oldest daughter marched off, feeling as if he were losing her to British society. He followed her as she gathered her latest books. Great Expectations, The Jungle Book, and even something written in French by George Sand.

"I cannot wait to see the look on Donk's face when I tell him I'm going to do his presentation," Sybbie said, her anger fading to excitement. Her eyes even looked ahead, as if she were picturing the event. She clearly had no idea that she was twisting a knife in Tom's heart.

"Sybbie, you have no idea what you are getting involved," Tom said as firmly as he could. His eyes landed on one of his favorite books in Lord Grantham's library, Utopia, which was also in the stack of books she'd read recently. There was hope.

"Dad, I'm not explaining this again." Sybbie said, her face switching from dreamy excitement to anger. The Brompton drawing room provided no comfort, after all; it was tense and hot.

"Patrick has something he'd like to show all of you," Lucy's sweet voice said, coming up from behind them, her voice cooling the room immediately. Her soothing presence and ability to change their focus was exactly what they needed.

"Da! Da!" their son said with a big grin on his face as Tom turned to him. Then he toddled toward the large settee in the middle of the room and pulled himself onto it. Without any assistance. Then he sat in the center, beaming.

"That's great, my boy," Tom said, beaming himself as he patted his son's head.

Sybbie picked up her brother and spun him around in delight. "You are becoming so big. You're almost not even a baby anymore."

Erin stood next to Lucy, beaming as if she were responsible for this entire scene. Had she gone to fetch her mother as soon as Tom and Sybbie started arguing? Tom didn't want to think about that. He'd rather focus on how happy his family was right now.

OOOOOOOOOO

But that night, Tom had to think about it.

"I don't know if you realize how upset our Erin is by all the rows surrounding her lately," Lucy said as they both stood in their bedroom. Her eyes were sad as she took off her cotton dress. "Not just between you and Lord Grantham, but between you and Sybbie, too.

Sighing, Tom unbuttoned his shirt. "I worried about that. I know I should try to keep these battles away from her, especially as she's too little for her to be so concerned." At seven years old, Erin should only be focused on mastering reading, maths, and dressing her dolls. "But sometimes I get so angry…" he tensed up again as he thought of Lord Grantham's increasing influence on his children, culminating with Sybbie insisting she do his presentation. "I decided just last night that I should distance our children from Lord Grantham. Instead, I hear Erin begging me to take her to the Abbey and Sybbie yelling at me that she'll be presented to the king no matter what."

He spat out the word king, still barely comprehending the idea. "Sometimes I wish we could all just move back to Ireland," Tom said, finally revealing the fantasy he'd indulged in several times over the last few months.

He stared at the floor, knowing how much Lucy would dislike the idea. Between her attachment to Brompton and the cold way she'd been treated when they attended Mam's funeral, she'd never want that.

The room was silent.

"I know it wouldn't work," he rushed to explain, as he removed his shirt. "You aren't treated warmly there, and honestly, neither am I as most people think I've become 'too English." But Lord Grantham's insistence that he present my daughter is a perfect example of why they think that."

Tom threw his shirt on the floor, his frustration with his father-in-law still too much for him to handle.

"I know this is difficult for you," Lucy said her gentle hands on his bare chest. "But have you thought that Lord Grantham's desire to present Sybbie isn't just to provoke your anti-monarchism, but an act of love for his oldest grandchild?"

Tom couldn't answer for several moments as he absorbed her tender words and touch. "I admit he does love her very much. It surprised me, in the early days, how much he loved my daughter, considering I know he loathed to have a half-Irish papist for a grandchild in the beginning." His mind flashed back to Lord Grantham cuddling his daughter close, playing with her, letting her ride his shoulders, and buying her countless presents which Sybbie adored simply because they were from "Donk."

Those images had melted the image of the hard, distant man Tom had believed Lord Grantham to be when he'd married Sybil. But Tom shook his head, even as he returned to gaze into Lucy's deep blue eyes. "I still think there are other ways he could show his love that don't need to involve that king."

Lucy's hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. "But to someone in his position, a presentation is the best way to show love. I know Lady Bagshaw desperately wished she could have presented me."

Distant loss flashed through her eyes, as they always did when his Lucy mentioned her mother or the time they'd lost, pretending to be only lady and servant. Tom's hands touched her bare shoulders and pulled her closer. "Ah, love," he said softly, leaning for a kiss. When he thought of his second wife's story with her mother, he wondered if he were being too hard on Lord Grantham, who had never pretended Sybbie were anything but a beloved granddaughter, no matter what her background.

"Lady Grantham also told me privately today that Lord Grantham had some pains from his ulcer a couple of months ago," he said with a sigh as he moved to the bed to take off his trousers. "She said that she's a bit worried about the stress between me and him. I know none of our children would want to lose their only grandfather this early."

"See," Lucy said, her eye meeting his again as she pulled her white night gown over her head. "There is more to this than monarchism and anti-monarchism."

Tom groaned, pulling the covers down as he climbed into the bed. "I suppose I know that, but I still loathe the idea of my daughter curtsying to the British Crown."

Lucy shook her head, her deep blue eyes gazing into his as she climbed into her side of the bed. "And that's another thing, Tom. She's your daughter; she's not you. You know as well as I do that she's growing up, and that means she's not going to agree with everything you believe."

Once again, Tom's mind flashed back to Sybil's frustration with Lord Grantham, who couldn't understand that she saw the world differently than her Papa. How was it possible that his Sybbie was doing the same thing, only in reverse? Certainly, she couldn't be so pro-monarchist that she was ashamed of her father's background? "She's read Utopia," Tom said, remembering seeing one of his favorite books in the collection Sybbie had just finished. "I'm certain she has a lot of the same ideas for justice that I do."

"I think she does, too," Lucy said softly. "She has her father's heart. That's why she's wishes to go into education, to try to help people, just like you do."

The dim light made her white nightgown almost glow, accenting her beauty, but it was truly Lucy's smile that melted his soul. He had to kiss her again. "She has her mother's heart, too." Tom wasn't certain whether he meant Sybil or Lucy, as they both had warm hearts, just like his Sybbie.

Lucy giggled as his breathe tickled her neck. Then she pulled him closer for a deeper kiss. And Tom reflected that although he did miss his Sybil occasionally, he also knew he was no longer able to live without his second wife.

Whatever he did about Sybbie or the rest of their children, it would be with Lucy.

OOOOOOOOOO

And yet, it was almost just as important for Tom to see Mary. They'd both been through so much over the years, and she was an important support system for him. "Mr. Parker has truly nursed that pig that was troubling him back to health," Mary said confidently as she arrived in the estate agent office a few days later. Then she flashed Tom an extra smile before shutting the door. They both appreciated the days they could work together.

Tom nodded in relief, as he looked up from the account book. "That's good to hear. We should have a good sale from the pigs this fall, then." He loved hearing that the estate was doing well for both the tenants and for Mary. It was as if the agent's office had a positive energy on these days.

Mary nodded. "Definitely." She paused as she pulled her desk chair out and sat down. "I meant to say, it's nice that you're going to allow Sybbie to be presented, after all. Papa is so excited about it. And Henry is already looking forward to Caroline's turn."

Bristling, Tom shook his head. "I didn't allow anything. Sybbie said she was going to tell Lord Grantham she would do it, no matter what I said. And she did." He still couldn't believe his daughter was a monarchist. Perhaps the office didn't have positive energy today, after all.

"Ah," Mary sighed. Then she stared off in the distance, as if remembering something. "She has a lot of her mother in her. We both know Sybil was determined to do things her way, too." She smiled sadly, and Tom knew she still missed her youngest sister.

"I suppose," Tom said, once again remembering his stubborn, fiery wife. "Sybbie also wants to take care of people and make the world better. She's planning on training to become a teacher after she's presented." He still worried about what might happen to Sybbie if she went away to school, but it was easier for him to accept than her being presented to the blasted king.

Mary's features looked blank, as she was an expert at concealing her feelings, but Tom knew her well enough to see the surprise in her eyes. "I see." She paused. "I suppose that's not much different than Sybil becoming a nurse, although at the time, we all thought that was a war necessity."

Tom shook his head, wondering why Sybil's family had never seen her correctly. "It was never just that. Sybil always wanted to do more with her life than be a society girl. My Sybbie does, too." Despite his concern for his daughter's wellbeing, Tom couldn't keep the pride out of his voice.

"Of course, Sybbie does," Mary said, her own voice sounding proud now that she wasn't so surprised.

Then Tom sighed. "I don't think she's prepared for how difficult it will be for her, though. There are a lot of lower-class people in Britain who still like to look down at Irish, or even half-Irish. I suppose it makes them feel good think there is someone lower than them." He spat on the ground in disgust for those types. "My Sybbie is too innocent and tender-hearted to understand that." Tom could never bare to see Sybbie's sweet smile would fall if she would hear those insults, so he'd taken special care to protect her.

Mary nodded. "I understand, and I loathe to have our Sybbie encounter those horrid people, but I think she will handle it better than you think. We all though Sybil was too innocent to be a nurse and look how well she did with that."

Tom's mind flashed to how Sybil had blossomed when she'd begun treating patients, and he smiled. "But Sybil wasn't half-Irish. She didn't encounter any of the prejudice Sybbie will. Sometimes I wish she would decide to stay home."

"I know it's difficult for your child to leave home." Mary shook her head slightly. "You should have heard the arguments George and I had before he left for Eton." Then she scoffed. "Actually, I'm glad you didn't. It's a good thing we had Henry, or we would have never gotten through it."

Tom had never realized George attending Eton was difficult for her, as it was the most prestigious preparatory school in the country and exactly where the entire family had planned on him attending since he was born. Still the idea of Mary arguing constantly with her son and Henry before he left was a surprisingly easy image. Mary may be reserved, but she had a sharp tongue which could be unleashed with the right circumstances. And over the years, he'd come to know she loathed change almost as much as Lord Grantham.

And perhaps Mary struggled with losing her last reminder of Mathew? "Especially with George being," said Tom, bravely trying to voice what was on his mind. "So much like…" Was that his problem with letting Sybbie go, too?

"Quite." Mary said with a nod, although not letting Tom finish the sentence.

Tom sighed and returned to studying the account book, while Mary picked up another one. For several moments, they worked in companionable silence. The positive energy was returning.

But he couldn't stop himself from bursting it. He had to say, "That's another reason I don't like the idea of Sybbie's presentation. Lord Grantham is completely forgetting about her background. How many men aren't going to want to interact with her because of me? The Irish thing, or even more importantly because I used to be a chauffeur?"

Mary pressed her lips, as if annoyed that Tom was preventing her from studying the Downton account books. Then she said, "Papa likes to believe everyone is just as loyal and kind as he is. It can be annoying to those of us who know that isn't true. But I promise you I'll screen the guest list of Sybbie's ball. Anyone who might have a problem with her background won't be invited."

A huge grin spread across Tom's face. One thing he'd grown to appreciate about Mary was how shrewd she was, as well as how protective she was of her family. She knew exactly the men who might be a problem for his innocent Sybbie and how to exclude them. "Thank you, Mary. I know I can trust you with that task."

"Good," Mary said firmly. "Now, how about looking at those account books again?"