'Say that again. I'm not sure I could have heard you right,' Tom said, sounding completely astounded.

Mary laughed in delight, clutching the telephone stick tightly as she spoke into the mouthpiece. 'You did! The only people who seem to have any issue with me marrying you are my father and my aunt. Everyone else is happy for us and wants to come to the wedding!'

'Even your mother?'

'Yes!'

'And your grandmother?' he said, doubtfully.

'Yes! They both particularly asked if they could come.'

'Well, I… I wasn't expecting that.'

'Neither was I!'

'But his lordship isn't happy about it.'

'No, not yet. But did we expect that? Anyway, Mama says she's going to do her best to talk him around. And you shouldn't call him his lordship anymore. He's going to be your father-in-law.'

'Well, what should I call him? Please, God, don't say I should start calling him Dad,' Tom said, really hoping that wasn't going to be the case.

Mary giggled. 'No, silly, of course not. Matthew calls him Robert.'

'Right, well, I don't think that will be happening. Not anytime soon anyway.'

'All right, then call him Lord Grantham, but not his lordship. You're not his servant.'

'Not anymore, no, but it still might take some getting used to,' Tom said, frankly.

'Isn't it wonderful, darling? That they are mostly happy for us?'

'Yes, it is, love. I'm glad of it. I know it would have been hard for you if they had been against it.'

'Well, I don't have to worry about that anymore, so definitely go ahead and book a date. As soon as possible,' Mary said, excitedly.

'Do you still want to get married in London? I mean, does this change things? Does this unexpected approval from your family mean Downton is back on the cards?'

'Oh, um, well, I hadn't really thought about that,' Mary said, thrown by that question.

'It's up to you.'

'No, it's up to us. It's our day, not just mine.'

Tom huffed a laugh down the line. 'Yes, but the wedding day is really all about the bride, isn't it?'

'No, not this day,' Mary said, shaking her head. 'I want this to be about us, not me. So, no, not Downton. Go ahead and book the register office in London like we agreed.'

'You're sure?'

'Positive.'

'Then I'll go and book a date tomorrow,' he said, his voice soft with affection. 'And then I will go to King's Cross and get a train up to Yorkshire.'

'What?' Mary gasped. 'Really?'

'I think I need to come to Downton and show your family – especially your father – that I mean to be the best husband to you that I possibly can.'

'You'd really do that?' Mary breathed.

'Of course, I would. I need to face him sooner or later. Better to grab the bull by the horns and do it sooner, don't you think? Maybe I can even persuade him to come to our wedding.'

'Oh, my darling. You really are a wonder.'

'Well, we'll see. I haven't managed to perform that particular miracle yet, and I might not be able to.'

'But the fact that you are willing to try means the world to me. Send me a telegram to let me know when your train will get into Downton, and I'll come and meet you.'

'I can walk from the station; I know the way.'

'I know you do. But you'll be entering this house as my fiancé, so you will be picked up in the motor and you will walk through the front door as is befitting,' Mary said, her tone brooking no argument.

'All right,' Tom said, amusement evident in his voice. 'Are you going to warn Mr Carson? Because I think he might have a heart attack when he sees me come waltzing in the front door.'

'Hmm, I'm not sure that I will,' Mary said, the devil on her shoulder urging her not to say anything to the butler, so she could see the look on his face when Tom returned to Downton Abbey.

Tom chuckled. 'Well, on your conscience be it!'

'I can't believe I will see you again tomorrow,' Mary whispered, her heart racing at the thought.

'You will, mo chuisle. The wanderer returns. Should I book a room at the Grantham Arms?' he asked.

'Absolutely not! You will stay here. I'll ask Mrs Hughes to ready a room for you, although sadly it will probably be on the Bachelor's Corridor and nowhere near my room.'

'Well, we can't have everything, I suppose. But soon no-one will be able to make us sleep apart ever again, my love,' Tom replied, his voice dipping low.

'Oh, God, I can't wait!' Mary purred.

'Neither can I,' he agreed. 'I'd better go and pack my bag again. I will let you know about the train. And I will see you tomorrow, mo chuisle.'

'Tomorrow. Goodnight, darling.'

'Goodnight, sweetheart.'

'May I have a word, Mrs Hughes?' Mary said, knocking on the open door of the housekeeper's parlour.

'Oh, course, milady,' Mrs Hughes said, rising to her feet.

'I have a guest arriving tomorrow. A gentleman. I wonder if you might ready a room for him to stay in.'

'Of course. How long will the gentleman be staying for?'

'I'm not sure. At least one night, maybe two. I don't think it will be longer because he will probably have to go back to London after that,' Mary replied, thinking that Tom would likely have to go back to work sooner rather than later.

'Very good, milady. I will let Mrs Patmore know there will be a guest for dinner.'

'Thank you, Mrs Hughes,' Mary said, nodding her thanks. She stepped out into the corridor, almost running into Carson.

'Oh, I do beg your pardon, milady. I didn't realise you were down here,' the butler said, flicking a curious glance at Mrs Hughes.

'That's quite all right, Carson. It was my fault for not looking where I was going. Goodnight,' Mary said, turning to go back upstairs.

Carson nodded and watched her go before turning to Mrs Hughes. 'What was she doing here?'

'She came to say she has a guest arriving tomorrow, who will stay for a night or two.'

'A guest?'

'A gentleman,' Mrs Hughes said, giving Carson a significant look.

'A gentleman?' he echoed, his bushy eyebrows scooting upwards in surprise.

'Yes.'

'Did she say who?'

'No.'

'Hmm. Maybe it's this Mr Collins who has been calling her,' Carson said, thoughtfully.

'Do you think she might finally have a suitor she's willing to entertain?' Mrs Hughes asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

'Well, if she has, I only hope he's worthy of her,' Carson said, loyally.

Mrs Hughes valiantly refrained from rolling her eyes. 'Well, we might find out tomorrow.'

'Yes, I suppose we might.'

'I cannot fathom why you are pandering to this nonsensical notion of Mary's to marry our old chauffeur!' Robert complained, stomping backwards and forwards before the bed in Cora's bedroom.

She sighed, rubbing in the last bit of her hand cream, and swivelled around on her stool to face him.

'Oh, Robert, it's not nonsensical. Can't you see that?'

'No, I can't!'

'Really? Can't you see the change in Mary? Can't you see how she's lit up, how she's come back to life in the last few weeks? Full life, not the half-life she's been living for the last eight years,' Cora pressed.

'Well, she's maybe appeared to be a bit… merrier,' Robert allowed, grudgingly.

'Merrier? Robert, she's been glowing these last few weeks! Didn't I say to you that she might have a new suitor? And it turns out she has. Only Mr Collins turns out to be Branson.'

'More subterfuge,' Robert grumbled.

'Can we really blame her for that, though? Especially when you reacted exactly as she thought you would,' Cora said, raising an eyebrow at her husband.

'But Branson! Is she really going to settle for a former servant?'

Cora sighed. 'I think you will have to push past Branson's prior life, Robert. And it seems that he has done rather well for himself since leaving Downton. I have to admit to being more than a little impressed with just how much he's managed to improve his situation in life. Even you must agree with that.'

'Well, yes, I suppose he has,' Robert admitted, ungraciously. 'But he's still…'

'What? Of a lower class?'

'Well… yes!'

'It seems that Mary is not concerned by that. And if Branson is dining at The Criterion without raising any eyebrows, I think we can assume that he now has the manners and social poise to be able to do that without embarrassing either himself or us by association.'

Robert huffed out a sigh, rolling his eyes. 'Dining at The Criterion is not the same as passing muster at the dining table at Downton with Mama.'

'And yet your mother has given their union her blessing,' Cora pointed out.

'Yes, and that is a truth that I can barely believe,' Robert said, shaking his head. 'I simply can't understand it.'

'I think, my darling, that Mama sees the same thing that I do.'

'Which is?'

'That Mary has been in a kind of stasis for the last eight years. She has gone through the motions of living, but she has not lived a full life. And I firmly believe now that that is because she loved and missed Branson so much. Now he has returned to her, she has come alive again. I really think that we must accept he is the love of her life, Robert, I really do.'

Robert stared at her, flabbergasted. 'The… the love of her life? Surely not.'

'I think so, yes. Look at the evidence. She is blossoming before our eyes now he is back in her life. She is ready to defy you and marry him without your blessing. It seems she finally sees a future for herself and it is with him.'

'But Branson!' Robert said again in frustration. 'She can do so much better than him, surely?'

'Yes, I daresay she could if she wanted to. But the point is that she doesn't want to. She could have taken up with a more powerful man or one of a more elevated social status at any point in the last eight years, but she hasn't. She's consistently said she has no interest in any other man. And her behaviour certainly backed that up. She wants Branson, Robert. Whether you like it or not, he is to her what you are to me, and what Matthew is to Sybil,' Cora said, fully believing every word coming out of her mouth.

Robert pursed his lips, thinking about that. 'Do you truly think that?'

'I do. And I think it's something you will have to learn to accept even if you don't like it. You know Mary's character as well as I do. Once she sets her heart on something, nothing will stand in her way. And she has set her heart on Branson. If you continue to oppose their marriage, she will not hesitate to sweep your objections aside and marry him anyway.'

'So, you're saying she won't listen to me?'

'No, she won't. And more than that, you may push her away. Do you want her to leave Downton and go to live with him in London?'

'She might do that anyway if she's to marry the blighter,' Robert said, realising for the first time that this impending marriage of Mary's might lead to her decamping to London or whatever outpost Branson might be sent to report from.

'Possibly. Likely even. But I want her to feel welcome here, to visit. And that means making him feel welcome,' Cora said, firmly. 'What if they have children? Don't you want to know your grandchildren? I know how much you love Jamie, Teddy and Lizzy. Don't you want a similar relationship with Mary's children?'

Robert looked down at the carpet, thinking about his beloved grandchildren and how much he enjoyed spending time with them and watching them grow. He found he couldn't imagine having grandchildren in the world that he did not know.

He sighed, looking up at his wife. 'You're saying that the price of keeping Mary in our lives is to accept Branson as her husband.'

'Yes, that is more or less what I am saying. And you never know, once we get to know him, we might like him.'

Robert snorted inelegantly, doubting that would be the case. 'I wouldn't hold your breath on that one, Cora.'

'Oh, I don't know. Until all that business at the end, I always found him to be amiable enough, didn't you?'

'I suppose so,' Robert said, grudgingly.

'Well, Mary loves him and sees good qualities in him. I do not think her a poor judge of character, do you?'

'Not usually,' Robert admitted.

Cora stood up, walking over to take his hands. 'I want Mary to be happy, Robert. Don't you?'

'Of course, I do.'

'Branson makes her happy. I've watched our darling girl resign herself to a half-life over the last eight years, and now she has a chance to live the life we've always wanted her to have with a loving husband and the possibility of children. Isn't that better than watching her do nothing but work?'

'I suppose so,' Robert sighed.

'Then why don't we do our best to welcome Branson to the family and see how things turn out?' Cora said, encouragingly.

'If we must, I suppose,' Robert said, reluctantly. 'I only hope it doesn't end in tears.'

'I don't think it will. I think Mary is on the verge of getting everything she's ever wanted. And I, for one, am delighted to see that,' Cora said, leaning her forehead against her husband's. 'And I think you will be too when you've had time to adjust to our new son-in-law.'

'Maybe,' Robert muttered, unwilling to agree to that quite yet.

'But you will try, won't you, darling? For Mary? And for me?' Cora said, cajolingly.

Robert sighed, knowing that he could never deny his wife anything. 'I suppose I will.'

'And you'll come to the wedding with me?'

'If I must.'

'Thank you, darling. Thank you,' Cora breathed, tilting her head to kiss him, relieved to have wrung this concession from him.

Sybil closed the door to Mary's bedroom behind her, leaning against it, her eyes twinkling.

'So, I need to know details!' she said, grinning at her sister.

Mary smiled at her from her bed, her happiness shining from her.

'Isn't Matthew going to wonder where you are?' she teased.

'No, I told him I was going to grill you about your weekend with Tom, and he simply picked up his book and waved me away, telling me not to wake him up when we eventually stopped talking.'

Mary laughed, picturing her brother-in-law's face as he resigned himself to losing his wife for the rest of the evening.

Sybil bounced over to the bed, pulling back the covers and climbing in beside Mary.

'I suppose I won't be able to do this for much longer, will I? Your husband will be in my place in a few weeks' time, won't he?' she said, nudging Mary, a wide grin on her face. 'Your husband, Mary! I can't believe it!'

'You can't believe it? I'm still having to pinch myself!' Mary confessed, returning Sybil's grin.

'I'm so happy for you, darling. I truly am.'

'Thank you. I am happy, Sybil. So very happy.'

'Of course, you are. Now, stop stalling and tell me how he proposed to you,' Sybil said, turning sideways and leaning against the headboard, fixing Mary with an avid look. 'Don't skip any of the details. I need to know everything!'

'Well, for one, you're assuming that he proposed to me.'

'Didn't he? Wait. Are you… are you saying that you proposed to him?' Sybil asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

'I did.'

'Mary! How very modern of you!'

'Well, he proposed to me the last time, so I suppose I thought it was only fair that I do it this time. Although I hadn't planned it. It was all rather spur of the moment.'

'Where did you propose to him?' Sybil asked, curiously.

Mary felt her cheeks heating as she recalled the proposal.

'Oh, you are blushing!' Sybil exclaimed in delight. 'Why are you blushing? Oh, goodness, was it during a… a private moment?'

'It was… we were… we were in bed after our first time together again,' Mary admitted, her cheeks still pink. 'Tom realised that we'd got so carried away that we… well, we forgot to use any contraception. He was worried about it, so I asked him to marry me.'

Sybil grinned. 'Well, you two didn't waste any time, did you?'

'Oh, Sybil. It's been eight years. Eight very long years,' Mary said with feeling. 'How long would you have waited if you hadn't seen Matthew for eight years?'

'Good point, well made,' Sybil said, not even wanting to think about that prospect. 'So, you're running to the altar in case you're pregnant, then.'

Mary shook her head. 'No. Well, not just because of that. We love each other. Tom was worried that we were rushing into it at first, but then he read my letters.'

'What letters?'

Mary pressed her lips together, realising that she'd never told Sybil about the letters. 'I've been writing to him since he left. I couldn't send them anywhere, of course, so now I have eight years' worth of letters to give to him.'

Sybil reached out taking Mary's hand. 'You've been writing to him all this time?'

'Yes.'

'Oh, darling. You never said.'

Mary shrugged. 'What was there to say?'

Sybil squeezed her hand, getting a fresh glimpse into just how much Mary had missed Tom all these years. 'And your letters persuaded him to just dive on into marriage, did they?'

'I took the ones from the beginning of 1915 to Brighton with me.'

'Oh. 1915? When you…' Sybil murmured, thinking of how upset Mary had been during those terrible months. How the weight had fallen off her, even though she could ill afford to lose it, and how she'd disappeared into a black hole of grief.

Mary nodded. 'Yes. Precisely. He read them while I was in the bath and then came straight through to the bathroom, got in with me and gave me the biggest hug. He was fair squeezing the life out of me. He said they'd made him realise that life was short and we should get married as soon as possible.'

Sybil squeezed Mary's hand again. 'And he's right.'

'I know. And I can't wait to marry him.'

'I'm looking forward to seeing him again, to finally seeing you two together,' Sybil said, smiling once more at her big sister.

Mary beamed at her. 'Well, you won't have to wait for long. I telephoned him to tell him about tonight and he's getting the train up to Downton tomorrow.'

'Is he? Oh, how wonderful!'

'It will be wonderful to see him, yes. But it might not be so wonderful if Papa is rude to him,' Mary said, her face falling.

Sybil shook her head. 'No, that won't happen. Papa does have manners. And Mama will talk him around, you see if she doesn't.'

'By tomorrow?' Mary said, doubtfully.

'It wouldn't surprise me if she's using her womanly wiles on him right now,' Sybil said, raising an expressive eyebrow.

Mary pulled a face. 'Oh, don't say that, Sybil. I'm sure I don't need to be imagining what that might entail.'

'Well, whatever her methods, let's hope she manages to at least make him be polite to Tom when he arrives tomorrow.'

'I hope so.'

'I'll make sure Matthew is around to help run interference if necessary,' Sybil said, resolving to have a word with her husband. 'He will stand up to Papa if needs be. And so will I.'

'Thank you, darling. That means a lot to me. It will mean a lot to Tom, too.'

'A new brother-in-law. How very exciting!' Sybil slid a cheeky look at Mary. 'And perhaps a niece or nephew in the near future, too.'

Mary let out a laugh. 'Well, perhaps, but don't take that as a given.'

'I won't, but if it turns out that my three will be getting a cousin fairly soon, nobody will be more thrilled than me,' Sybil said, happily.

'Except maybe me and Tom,' Mary replied, warmth blooming in her chest at the thought that someday she may have her own little family with the man she loved after all.

'Yes, except for you two,' Sybil agreed, leaning forward to hug her sister.

'Is everything ready for Lady Mary's guest?' Carson said to Mrs Hughes as the servants' breakfast came to a close.

'It's all in hand, Mr Carson. Maud will be readying the Prince Edward bedroom on the Bachelor's Corridor for the gentleman,' Mrs Hughes replied.

Thomas' ears pricked up at the mention of a gentleman here at the invitation of Lady Mary, an event that was rarer than finding hens' teeth. 'Do we know who the gentleman is?'

'I don't see as that's any of your business, Thomas,' Carson sniffed.

'I simply wondered if he might require the assistance of a valet, that's all, Mr Carson.'

'Not that Lady Mary has mentioned, no.' Carson pushed his chair back, picked up his post and got to his feet. 'Back to work as quick as you like, ladies and gentlemen.'

With that, he strode out of the servants' hall, heading for his pantry.

Thomas looked across at Mary's maid. 'Anna, do you know who this mysterious gentleman guest of Lady Mary's is?'

Anna gazed back at him, giving nothing away. 'I do.'

'And are you going to share it with the rest of us?'

Anna flicked a glance at Mrs Hughes, watching the exchange silently, obviously just as curious as Thomas about Lady Mary's guest, but too savvy to ask.

'No, I am not. If Lady Mary wanted you to know his name, I'm sure she would have told Mr Carson. But as she didn't, it's not my place to give that information away,' she said, already looking forward to the looks on her fellow servants' faces when Tom Branson walked through the main doors of Downton Abbey later that day.

'Well, that just makes me think it's someone we know,' Thomas said, lifting his cigarette to his lips. 'Otherwise, what's the big mystery?'

'Well, if it is a mystery, it's a mystery that will be solved later today,' Anna said, refusing to be drawn.

'I suppose it will,' Thomas drawled, affecting nonchalance even as his mind worked to think who it could possibly be.

Anna rose and left the room, not allowing herself to smile until she was halfway up the stairs.

'He's coming here today?' Robert said, dismayed to have so little notice of the arrival of his prospective new son-in-law.

'Yes, Papa. I hope you will be civil to him,' Mary said, sharply.

Robert looked affronted. 'Of course, I will be civil to him! What do you take me for?'

'Well, you weren't singing that tune last night,' Mary pointed out.

Robert sniffed. 'Your mother and I talked about the situation last night.'

'Right. And?' Mary prompted, eager to know more.

'And she is convinced that allowing you to marry… this man is the right thing to do. She is firmly of the opinion that you love him, and you would marry him whatever any of us have to say on the subject.'

'She's absolutely right about that,' Mary said, firmly. 'On both counts. I do love him. And I will marry him, Papa. No matter what you say or do.'

Robert sighed, suddenly feeling quite old and worn out. 'Yes, I'm fully aware of that, Mary. You have far too much of your grandmother in you, do you know that?'

Despite herself, Mary's lips quirked into a small smile. 'Is that your cross to bear, Papa? That I am like Granny?'

'One of my crosses,' he agreed, giving her a wry look. 'Sometimes, it is not easy being a man in a family full of women like mine.'

'Oh, dear, my heart bleeds for you,' Mary replied, her smile widening a little. 'You know, if you give him a chance, I think you might find Tom is excellent company. You never know, you might even begin to like him.'

Robert blew out another breath, not sure that would ever happen. 'If that is your way of telling me yet again to be nice to him, you can breathe easy, Mary. I may not have chosen him for you, but as you, your mother, your sister and your grandmother have made very clear to me, it is not my choice to make. If you choose to take him as your husband, I will accept him as part of the family.'

'And you'll do it graciously?' Mary persisted.

'As graciously as I possibly can,' Robert said, bowing to the inevitable. There were only so many fronts a man could fight a battle on, and this one had proven to have several fronts too many.

'Thank you, Papa,' Mary said, relaxing a little about the upcoming reunion between her father and her husband-to-be.

Upstairs, Thomas collared Miss Baxter as she pushed through the green baize servant's door to take her sewing downstairs.

'Has her ladyship said anything to you about this gentleman guest of Lady Mary's?'

Baxter shifted the basket she was carrying on her hip, looking uncomfortable. 'What's it to you?'

Thomas narrowed his eyes at her. 'Never mind what it is to me. What's she said?'

The lady's maid pressed her lips together mutinously, saying nothing.

'Remember I hold your position in my hands, Phyllis,' Thomas said, his voice silkily menacing.

'She said he's Lady Mary's fiancé.'

'Fiancé?' Thomas echoed, thunderstruck. 'Since when has Lady Mary had a fiancé?'

'Since this weekend, apparently. They didn't know anything about him until last night.'

'Bloody hell. Well, she's a sly one, isn't she?' Thomas said, trying to think of any men who had come calling for Lady Mary recently. 'She's had us all thinking she's still pining for that chauffeur, and she's only gone and got herself a fella. What's his name?'

Baxter shrugged. 'I don't know.'

'Phyllis,' Thomas said, warningly.

'I don't know! She didn't say.'

'It could be Lord Gillingham,' Thomas said, thoughtfully. 'He's sweet on her. Or that bloke that's been telephoning her these last few weeks. Mr Collins.'

'I don't know. I can't help you anymore. Can I go now?' Phyllis said, irritated at being kept back by him and forced to share information she didn't want to share.

Thomas stepped aside to let her pass. 'Off you go. Don't forget to tell me if you find anything else out, though, will you?'

Phyllis shot him a look and stalked past, anxious to get away from this reminder of her past.

As the steam from the train cleared, Mary peered along the platform looking for Tom's familiar figure. Her heart jolted in her chest as she saw him step down onto the platform, his travelling bag and a suit carrier in his hand. Trying not to run, she hurried along to meet him.

'Darling, you're here!' she said breathlessly as she arrived by his side.

He gave her a broad smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 'I am. Hello, mo chuisle.'

'I can't believe you're here,' she said, slipping her arm through his.

'Neither can I.' Tom looked around as they walked through the station building he'd once known so well. 'This place hasn't changed much.'

'Very little changes in Downton.'

'No. Well, I'm going to be something of a shock, then, aren't I?' he said, giving her a wry look. 'Do they know I'm coming?'

'My family does, and Anna, of course. The servants know I have a guest arriving, but not that it's you,' Mary admitted.

'Right,' Tom said, imagining the faces of his erstwhile colleagues when he appeared on Lady Mary's arm.

'Are you nervous?' Mary asked curiously, glancing sideways at him.

'A little,' he confessed. 'I didn't part with your family on the best of terms, did I?'

'No, but that was a long time ago and a lot has changed.'

'Hmm, I suppose so,' Tom replied, privately doubting Lord Grantham's sentiments towards him would have changed that much.

The Crawleys' chauffeur moved to open the door of the car as he saw Mary and her guest approaching. For a moment, Tom felt the past echoing into the present.

'It's a new motor,' he said, casting a professional eye over the sleek, shining automobile. 'A Sunbeam.'

Mary shrugged, not really au fait with these things. 'I suppose it is.'

'How is it to drive?' Tom asked his successor.

Stark looked surprised to be addressed by Lady Mary's companion. 'Very smooth, sir,' he replied as he handed Lady Mary into the car.

'Is it heavy around the corners?'

'It's not too bad. Better than the old Renault Landaulette we had before.'

'Yes, I suppose it would be. Eleven years is a long time in engineering,' Tom said, smiling at the man.

Stark looked even more surprised now to hear that the gentleman he was picking up knew how old Lord Grantham's previous car had been.

'Oh, do get it, Tom,' Mary said, impatiently from inside the car.

Tom climbed in beside her, leaving Stark to shut the door behind him and walk around to the driver's seat.

'Very nice,' he said, looking around him. 'Although I'm not used to being in the back seat.'

'Oh, I wouldn't say that,' Mary said, giving him a cheeky look. 'I recall you being in the back seat of the old car a fair few times.'

He chuckled, taking her hand. 'Yes, I suppose I was. I have very fond memories of that car.'

Mary smiled and then tried to turn the talk to more serious matters. 'Try not to talk about the car when you see my parents, will you? It will only remind them of your former life.'

'Well, it's not like they're going to forget, is it, Mary?'

'No, but you don't need to rub it in for them. And don't forget, you're not to call them their lordship or ladyship or milady or milord. Lord Grantham and Lady Grantham unless they invite you to call them by their Christian names. And you won't be Branson, you'll be Mr Branson now or Tom.'

Tom sighed. 'All right, I'll do my best to remember. It might slip out sometimes, though. Sort of like a reflex.'

'Well, don't let it. You don't work for them anymore.'

'No.'

'You're going to be family.'

Tom blew out a breath. 'Yes, although I'm not sure I've quite managed to come to terms with that yet, how I'm going to end up with an earl as a father-in-law.'

Mary slid him a look. 'Well, you shouldn't have fallen in love with an earl's daughter then, should you?'

'I'd say that I didn't. I fell in love with a woman who happens to be an earl's daughter,' he countered, smiling at her. 'Life would have been a whole lot easier if she hadn't been.'

Mary bumped him with her shoulder. 'Oh, shut up. You wouldn't change a single thing about me, you know you wouldn't.'

'I would.'

'Would you?' she said, doing a double take. 'What would you change about me?'

'I'd change the fact that you are not yet my wife.'

Mary stared at him, her face breaking into a delighted smile. 'And that is entirely the right answer.'

Tom grinned and leaned in to kiss her, ignoring Stark in the front of the motor, flicking surprised glances at them.

When they pulled apart, Mary smiled, smoothing her hand down the front of his coat. 'So, did you book a date?'

'I did,' Tom replied, returning her smile. 'I hope you are free on Wednesday 25th October.'

Mary beamed at him. 'Really?'

'Really. At one o'clock.'

'Well, it looks like I will have to check my diary, doesn't it?' she said, unable to keep the smile off her face.

'Yes, it does,' he agreed, leaning in for another kiss.

Thomas strode up to the car as Stark pulled up, curious to get his first look at Lady Mary's mysterious fiancé. He handed Lady Mary out of the car and waited for her companion to follow her out. When he did, Thomas felt his jaw drop.

'Hello, Thomas,' Tom said as he climbed out of the back seat to stand on the gravel outside the main doors of Downton Abbey.

Thomas gawped at him, unable to believe his eyes. It couldn't be. It simply couldn't be.

At the main door, Carson stood in a similar state of shock. If he wasn't very much mistaken, the gentleman accompanying Lady Mary out of the motor was none other than Tom Branson, Lord Grantham's disgraced former chauffeur. He stared at Branson, quite unable to make any sense of this turn of events.

'Mr Carson,' Tom said, nodding politely to the butler.

'What… what are you doing here?' Carson spluttered, quite unprofessionally.

'I've been invited,' Tom said, not elaborating further.

'Do shut your mouth, Carson. It's quite unbecoming,' Mary said mischievously, quite enjoying the reactions of the staff so far to Tom's return. 'You remember Mr Branson, don't you? He is here as my very special guest. He will be staying with us for a few days. I hope you will treat him with the same respect as all our other guests.'

'Er, yes, um, yes, of course, milady,' Carson mumbled, still staring in disbelief at Tom.

'Excellent. Come on, Tom, this way,' Mary said, leading the way to the library where she knew her parents, Sybil and Matthew would be waiting.

Carson gawped after them as they walked away. Thomas came to stand beside him, both of them dumbfounded.

'Did you… did you… that was… that was Branson,' Carson said, quite unnecessarily, still shocked. 'How… how…'

'It gets worse, Mr Carson,' Thomas said, grimly.

'Worse? What do you mean?' Carson asked, turning to look at Thomas, his brows beetling.

'Apparently, he's Lady Mary's fiancé,' Thomas confided, feeling sick at the thought of Branson becoming a member of the family, getting his feet under the table and becoming someone he would have to kowtow to.

'Fiancé?' Carson almost yelled before coming to his senses. 'What? What?'

Thomas nodded. 'Believe it or not, yes. Her ladyship told Miss Baxter that Lady Mary's guest was her fiancé.'

Carson gawked at him. 'No, surely not. That can't be right.'

'Well, we can only hope it isn't, but I wouldn't hold your breath if I were you. Not by the looks of things.'

The two men subsided into silence, both of them staring in the direction Lady Mary and her unexpected fiancé had walked.

The whole family looked up as one as Mary and Tom entered the library, Robert and Matthew rising to their feet, Sybil too.

'Tom! How lovely to see you again,' Sybil said, walking over to offer her hand to Tom, all smiles.

He shook it gratefully. 'Lady Sybil, it's lovely to see you, too.'

'Oh, come now, I thought we agreed long ago that we were friends and that you should simply call me Sybil,' she said, her eyes twinkling. 'And that goes double now that you are to be my brother-in-law.'

He smiled, remembering how much he had always liked Mary's youngest sister. 'Then so it shall be… Sybil.'

'Do you remember my husband?' Sybil said as Matthew appeared at her side, stretching out his hand.

'I do. Hello, Mr Crawley,' Tom said, shaking the proffered hand.

'Oh, no, Matthew, please. You and I must become the best of friends, Tom, if we are both to be married to feisty Crawley sisters,' Matthew said, warmly. 'As brothers-in-law, we must stick together.'

Tom grinned, already feeling like he had an ally in Matthew Crawley. 'That's fine by me, Matthew.'

'You'll meet our children later,' Sybil said, beaming at Tom. 'I have three now, can you believe?'

'So, I've heard. Mary's told me all about them,' Tom said as Mary took his arm. 'Congratulations.'

'Tom, how lovely to see you,' Cora said, advancing towards the newcomer in their midst, holding out her hand. 'May I call you, Tom?'

'Of course, mi – Lady Grantham,' Tom said, shaking the countess' hand, relieved to see her smiling at him and not looking in the least like his presence here beside her daughter offended her. 'It's good to see you again too.'

'Would you like some tea? You must be thirsty after your journey,' Cora said, warmly. 'I will ring for Carson to bring some through.'

'I think Carson might need a little time to recover himself,' Mary muttered, earning a small, smothered laugh from Sybil.

Tom looked over at Mary's father, standing there making no move to greet him. 'Lord Grantham,' he said, nodding at his former employer.

'Mr Branson,' Robert replied, inclining his head by the tiniest amount.

Beside Tom, Mary narrowed her eyes at her father.

'I trust you had an uneventful journey,' Robert continued, catching the look.

'Yes, thank you. It gave me a chance to catch up on some reading for an article.'

'Yes. I, um, understand that you are a journalist, now.'

'Yes, I am.'

The conversation withered, both men looking and feeling awkward.

Mary took Tom's arm, drawing him over to the sofa to sit beside her. 'Did you say something about tea, Mama? I'm absolutely parched.'

'Yes, I did,' Cora said, walking over to pull the cord to bring Carson to the room. She glanced at her husband as she did, who met her gaze, looking rather helpless. She gave him a small, encouraging smile as she heard Sybil initiate a conversation with Branson behind her.

'Ah, Branson, I heard you were coming today,' the Dowager said as she entered the library, leaning on her cane.

'Tom, Granny. You should call him Tom now,' Mary rebuked softly as Tom rose to his feet.

'I don't mind, Mary,' he said, touching her arm.

'Well, I do,' she replied, giving her grandmother a significant look.

Violet perched on the edge of one of the armchairs. 'Come and sit with me, Tom. And will someone get me a cup of tea, please?'

Obediently, Tom moved to sit on the chair next to the Dowager even as Mary walked to the tea station to fix her grandmother a cup of tea.

'I hear things have turned out well for you,' Violet said, eyeing him quite brazenly, assessing his clothing and finding it came up to scratch.

'Yes, Lady Grantham, I think so,' he said, feeling more nervous about conversing with the Dowager than any other member of the family.

'I'm pleased to hear it. You will be able to give Mary a comfortable life, will you?'

'Granny!' Mary exclaimed as she handed her a cup of tea. 'Honestly. It's the 1920s, I am capable of earning my own living as you well know.'

'I do know that, but I would also like to be sure that Bra - Tom will be able to contribute to the household, too,' Violet said, quite unrepentant.

Tom smothered a grin. 'Yes, I will. I have a well-paid job and a substantial amount in savings.'

'As do I,' Mary interjected, shooting a look at her grandmother as she went to stand beside Tom, her hand on his shoulder.

'And I assume you will be buying your bride-to-be an engagement ring,' the Dowager continued, eyeing Mary's bare ring finger.

'Give us a chance, Granny,' Mary said, rolling her eyes. 'We've only been engaged for a couple of days.'

'Yes, I will,' Tom said, smiling at the old lady. 'Whatever her heart desires.'

'Really? I should think carefully before you say that. Mary has very expensive tastes,' the Dowager said, wryly.

'And she's worth every penny,' Tom replied chivalrously.

Violet studied him, making no effort to hide her scrutiny. 'I can see why you like him,' she said, finally, raising her eyes to Mary's.

Mary let out a surprised laugh.

'I'd like to say thank you to you, Lady Grantham,' Tom said, drawing the Dowager's attention back to him.

'For what?'

'For arranging that last meeting between me and Mary before I left Downton all those years ago. I know that was your doing.'

'Ah, that,' Violet said, a little taken aback. 'Yes, well, I felt it needed to be done.'

'And I thank you for it. As hard as it was, it would have been harder to leave without having been able to say goodbye to her,' he said, quietly.

Violet was silent for a moment, thinking a little guiltily how she'd arranged that meeting simply to stop Mary pining over this young man, a goal that - as it turned out - she'd never achieved. Now, that same young man was back in her granddaughter's life and about to marry her. The difference was that he was much more acceptable now, especially if she could let it be known that he was connected to a certain aristocratic family in the south of Ireland. Not the slightest bit true, of course, but in Violet's experience, if you told people something with enough conviction, they generally tended to accept it.

'Well, let us not think about goodbyes now,' she said briskly. 'We must look to the future, instead. So, tell me, have you set a wedding date? Mary tells me you were going to try to do that before coming to Downton.'

Having never worked inside the house, Tom had to ask Mary how to get down to the servants' area in the basement. She smiled at him and showed him to the green baize door.

'Don't linger down there too long, darling. We'll have to change for dinner soon.'

'I know, and I don't want to disturb them when they're busy, but I think I should go and say hello. I don't want them to think I'm too grand to acknowledge them now.'

She smoothed her hands down the front of his jacket, kissing him lightly. 'I know you don't. Do you want me to come with you?'

'No, I think that would just make it more awkward, don't you?'

'Probably, yes.'

'Right, well, off I go.'

'Good luck.'

The first person Tom saw was Anna, who smiled broadly at him, walking up to him as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

'Tom! How lovely to see you! Or should I call you Mr Branson, now?' she said, her tone full of warmth.

'Don't you dare, Anna, not when the family aren't around,' he said, returning her smile. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. 'It's so good to see you. How are you? I hear congratulations are in order. Mr Bates finally realised what a diamond he had on his hands, did he?'

Anna chuckled. 'Something like that. But enough of that. You are the talk of the servants' hall. The former servant returning as Lady Mary's fiancé.'

He grimaced. 'I rather thought I would be.'

Anna reached out, patting his arm. 'I'm so happy for the both of you, Tom. She's been… well, she's not been the same since you left, but now you're back, she's finally happy again. It's… well, it's wonderful to see the change you've wrought in her.'

'Was she really that unhappy?' he asked quietly, knowing that Anna would tell him the truth.

She nodded. 'She never got over you. Never forgot about you. You were the yardstick by which she measured every man her parents tried to throw at her, but no-one ever measured up to you. Not for her. I felt sure she was going to end her days alone.'

He pressed his lips together, listening as Anna painted a picture of Mary's life over the last eight years. 'Not anymore. We've set a date. I hope you'll be able to be there.'

Anna smiled, her face lighting up. 'Oh, just you try and stop me.'

'Thank you, Anna,' Tom said suddenly, gratitude washing through him. 'Thank you for looking after her all this time. For being there for her.'

'Where else would I have been?' Anna said softly, pressing her hand to his arm again.

'Mr Branson,' Mrs Hughes said, coming up the corridor behind Anna.

'I'll leave you to it,' Anna said, throwing Tom another smile. 'Perhaps one day, you can tell me about what you've been up to these last few years.'

'Definitely,' he said, nodding at her before focusing on the housekeeper. 'Hello, Mrs Hughes. You're looking well.'

'Ah, get away with you. I look the same as I've looked for most of my life,' she said easily, a smile on her face. She looked him up and down, taking note of the fine quality of his suit and the wristwatch he was wearing. 'You, however, you've definitely had a change of fortune. It suits you.'

'Thank you. I suppose you know why I'm here, do you?'

'Well, rumour has it that you're to wed Lady Mary,' Mrs Hughes replied, arching an eyebrow. 'Is that true?'

'It is.'

'So, it wasn't a mistake then, you and her all that time ago, then?' she asked, quietly.

Tom shook his head. 'No, it wasn't. It was love then and it's love now.'

Mrs Hughes gazed at him thoughtfully before nodding. 'Then I will congratulate you on your engagement, Mr Branson. I wish you and Lady Mary every happiness.'

'Thank you.'

Mrs Hughes glanced around and then lowered her voice. 'I'll also wish you luck, laddie. Between his lordship and Mr Carson, I think you might need it.'

Tom grimaced. 'Don't I know it. Where is Mr Carson? Has he recovered from the shock?'

'He's in his pantry. And I think he might have had to sink a tot of brandy after seeing you upstairs and hearing the news,' she confided, her eyes twinkling. 'You know you'll never be good enough for Lady Mary in his eyes, don't you? The King of England would barely pass muster as good enough for her as far as Mr Carson is concerned.'

Tom smiled, remembering now that Mrs Hughes had a much more down-to-earth view of his fiancée than Mr Carson. 'I know. I think I should go and speak to him, though. I don't want him to feel like I'm ignoring him.'

'Well, the best of luck, then. At least he won't chuck you out this time. He can't, can he? Not with you being a member of the family now. Well, as good as.'

'I'm sure he'd like to, though.'

Mrs Hughes chuckled. 'Aye, I expect he would. Go on with you now; you know where the pantry is.'

'It really is good to see you, Mrs Hughes,' Tom said with a smile. 'I always held you in the highest regard, I hope you know that.'

Mrs Hughes nodded her head in acknowledgement. 'Well, it's a pleasure to see you again too, Mr Branson, and to see that you've done so well for yourself.'

A crash sounded from the kitchen and Mrs Patmore's voice rose above the sound like a foghorn. 'What have you done now, you silly girl?'

'I think that's my cue,' Mrs Hughes said, rolling her eyes. 'You go on and see Mr Carson now.'

With that, she swept into the servants' hall, radiating authority and ready to pour oil on troubled waters. Tom watched her go and then steeled himself to knock on the door of Carson's pantry.

'Come in,' came the call from inside.

Tom opened the door and stepped inside. 'Hello, Mr Carson.'

The butler narrowed his eyes at him and then seemed to realise that protocol required him to stand in the presence of a guest of the house. He rose to his feet, resentment in every line of his body.

'Mr Branson. What can I do for you?'

'I wanted to come and clear the air. I understand that Mary didn't tell you I was coming.'

'Lady Mary is under no obligation to tell me anything,' Carson said resentfully but still making a point of adding the title Tom had omitted.

'No, but I think it might have been fairer to warn you under the circumstances. I didn't mean to shock you as I did.'

'Yes, well, it was something of a surprise,' Carson allowed. He looked Tom up and down, taking in the quality of his clothing, much as Mrs Hughes had. 'I'm given to understand that you are… that is, that you and Lady Mary are to be married. Is that correct?'

'It is,' Tom confirmed.

Carson couldn't quite control the look of disapproval that flickered over his face, his servant's blank failing him as Branson verified the unpalatable news Thomas had imparted earlier.

Tom saw it as plain as day. 'I know you don't think I'm worthy of her, but I love her, and despite what you may think, she loves me. I mean to do all I can to make her happy.'

'Yes, well, see that you do,' Carson sniffed.

'She's very fond of you, Mr Carson, I know that. But she is also going to be my wife. I hope we can rub along together rather than be at odds. I know that would make Lady Mary happy,' Tom said, careful to use Mary's title this time.

Carson gazed at him for a moment and then nodded, realistic enough to know that whatever his own thoughts on the matter, Lady Mary had made her choice, and her love for her husband would always come before any affection she had for the butler.

'Yes, Mr Branson, I hope we can, too. Thank you for coming to see me,' he said, inclining his head stiffly.

Tom rose to his feet, his business with Carson concluded. 'I've found it's better to tackle these things straight away. I will bid you good day.'

'Good day,' Carson said, remaining standing until his visitor left the pantry.

Another voice from the past spoke as Tom closed the door behind him.

'You're back then.'

He turned to see Thomas leaning against the wall, repeatedly flicking the top of his lighter open and closed.

'Looks like it, doesn't it?'

'But you're upstairs now instead of down here with the rest of us.'

'I'm not any grander than I was before.'

'No. Just more successful,' Thomas said, resentfully. 'And not in service.'

'No. I'm a journalist now.'

'And about to be Lady Mary's husband.'

'Yes.'

'You're a right jammy git, aren't you?' Thomas said, a look of dislike mixed with envy on his face.

'Careful, Thomas, your bitterness is showing,' Tom said, making to walk past him.

'It's not right.'

Tom stopped and turned back towards the underbutler. 'Isn't it? You dislike this class system as much as I do. Why shouldn't I marry the woman I love just because we're deemed to be different classes?'

'No, I meant it's not right that you're going to be upstairs living the life of Riley while I'm still here serving you,' Thomas bit out.

'Then you should have left, shouldn't you? You joined the Army, didn't you? Why did you come back? Why didn't you take your chance?'

'Because I didn't have a chance. I didn't have anything by the time the war finished,' Thomas growled, shoving away the memory of being conned out of all his savings.

'Then you should have gone looking for your chance,' Tom said, fresh out of sympathy.

'What, like you did?'

'Yes.'

'You didn't go looking for your chance. You got chucked out on your arse for sleeping with your employer's daughter.'

Tom narrowed his eyes, fighting back his temper. 'I was dismissed, yes, but I went on to make something of myself. Don't blame me for the fact that you didn't have the courage to do that yourself.'

Thomas' jaw tightened with anger, even as he recognised the truth of that statement.

'Don't go trying to make mischief, Thomas. I've seen and done too much to put up with your games,' Tom warned the underbutler. 'Let's just agree to stay out of each other's way while I'm here.'

Thomas said nothing, staring insolently at his former colleague. Tom gave him one last hard look and turned to go back upstairs where his fiancée was waiting for him.

Before dinner, Robert went into the small library, deciding to partake of a small pre-dinner drink of whisky before sharing a table with his former chauffeur for the first time. He drew up short as he entered and saw the man in question perusing the books on one of the shelves.

Tom looked around as the earl came into the room.

'I always thought you had one of the finest libraries I'd ever seen,' he said, closing the book in his hand and replacing it on the shelf.

'Well, you are welcome to borrow from it. You know the drill,' Robert said, crossing to the drinks table. He hesitated and then looked over to Branson. 'Would you like a drink?'

'Whisky, please,' Tom replied, taking the olive branch.

'It's Scottish, not Irish,' Robert said, pouring two glasses.

'Ah, well, I'm sure it's almost as good as the Irish stuff,' Tom said, attempting a small joke.

Robert handed him a glass. 'What shall we drink to?'

'New beginnings?' Tom ventured.

Robert nodded and raised his glass.

'I'm glad I've got the chance to speak to you alone,' Tom said after taking a sip of his drink.

'Oh?'

'I know I'm not the husband you wanted for Mary. Far from it. You once told me I'm not fit to lick her boots. I want to prove to you that I will do everything in my power to make her happy. It might take me years to prove that, but I want you to know that I will try,' Tom said, his eyes locked on the man who would soon be his father-in-law.

Robert returned his gaze and then sighed. 'I believe you, Bra – Tom. You're right in thinking that you would not be my choice for Mary, but as she has made very clear, you are her choice. And I know her well enough to know that she would not do that without good reason.'

'I love her. I really do.'

'Then make her happy. If you do that, I will have no reason to complain.' Robert eyed his former employee, taking in the white tie dinner attire he was wearing. 'You look very smart.'

'Like a gentleman?' Tom asked, a slight smile on his face.

'Yes, I suppose so.'

'I sometimes have to attend dinners as part of my job.'

'Yes, I understand you are a journalist now. What do you cover?'

'Currently, politics, but I've covered all kinds of current affairs, from wars to workers' rights and beyond.'

'Really? And what do you make of the current state at Westminster?' Robert asked, finding himself interested to know what a political journalist knew that perhaps wasn't public knowledge.

When Mary came looking for her fiancé some ten minutes later, she was surprised and delighted to find him locked in conversation with her father, neither one of them looking like they wanted to kill each other. She smiled as she watched them from the door before they noticed her. Perhaps integrating Tom into her family wasn't going to be quite as hard as she'd imagined.