The knock on his door late that night sort of surprised Tom and sort of didn't. Before he could get out of bed, the door opened, and Mary slipped into the room.

He gave a small, amused laugh, raising an eyebrow in mock shock. 'You know I'm trying to stay on the right side of your father, don't you? That won't last if he finds out you were in my bedroom.'

'Oh, shut up,' she grinned, prowling towards the bed. 'It's not like he's going to come and check you're in here alone, is he?'

'Isn't he? For all we know, he's got Thomas skulking around the house every ten minutes with orders to press his ear against my door for sounds of illicit congress.'

'If I know Papa, he's all tucked up in bed by now. And if Thomas is on the prowl, you'll just have to bite your lip and be silent at the critical moment, won't you?' Mary replied, giving him a lascivious look.

'Ah, I see. So, you've come here to have your wicked way with me, have you?' he asked, smiling affectionately up at her as she reached the bed.

'I thought I might,' she said, plucking the bedclothes off him and swinging her leg over his lap. 'But I did also want to say how marvellously I thought tonight went.'

'It did go rather better than I expected,' Tom confessed, his hands going to her hips as she settled above him. 'I thought it might be a real uphill slog, but your family were very welcoming. Even your father.'

'That, my love, is because you managed to fascinate and surprise them all,' Mary said softly, trailing her hands along his chest.

'I'm not sure I'd go that far. I definitely didn't win your Aunt Rosamund over. She looked like she was sucking a lemon throughout dinner.

'Rosamund will come around eventually,' Mary said, completely unconcerned.

'Hmm, I wouldn't put any money on that,' Tom said, dryly.

'Perhaps she's jealous. She did see you half-naked all those years ago. Perhaps she wants you for herself,' she said teasingly, slipping her fingers between the buttons of his pyjamas, stroking his skin.

Tom huffed out a laugh. 'I don't think that's the case. Not for one second.'

'Forget about Rosamund. She's not important. The real triumph was that you had Papa practically eating out of your hand with all your talk of the goings on behind the scenes at Westminster.'

'Yes, I was surprised about that given that he has a seat in the House of Lords.'

'Oh, Papa's not part of the government. Lords like Papa don't really mix with the politicians in the Commons all that often from what I can gather. He's hardly in the thick of political intrigue when he's at the House of Lords. He was eating up what you were telling him about the real corridors of power.'

Tom grinned. 'Who would ever have thought that the thing I would have in common with your father would be politics?'

Mary chuckled. 'Certainly not me. And for your information, Mama thinks you are completely charming, and Granny thinks you are both sensible and interesting. I'd say you were a great success this evening, my darling.'

'Well, that is good to know,' he said, his thumbs rubbing on the silky material of her nightgown where he held her at the hips.

'That's worth celebrating, don't you think?' Mary asked breathily, pressing down on him and circling her hips.

'Ummmm,' he groaned, his body already responding to her. 'You do like to live dangerously, don't you?'

'Don't tell me you don't. Not with your history.'

'No, I do, but do you think this is wise?'

'Maybe not, but I want to make love with you anyway,' Mary said, shaking her robe off her. She reached for the hem of her nightdress and tugged it up and over her head, tossing it aside to sit naked astride him.

Tom's eyes dropped to her bare chest. 'God, you are a wicked, wanton woman,' he groaned, reaching up to cup her breasts.

'I am for you, yes,' Mary murmured, letting out a small moan as he rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. 'Are you going to send me away unsatisfied?'

'Not a chance, no,' he growled, sitting up and kissing her, his arms going around her.

Mary grinned, looping her arms around his neck as he pushed her backwards onto the bed, covering her body with his.

'You should probably go back to your room soon, mo chuisle,' Tom murmured, kissing the top of Mary's head as she lay in his arms. 'We don't want to upset anyone, do we?'

'Hmm, five more minutes,' she mumbled, stroking her hand slowly up and down along his ribs. 'I never asked you. How long are you staying? Are you going back to London tomorrow? Or today now, I suppose.'

'I can probably stay another day, but I will have to go back on Wednesday morning. There's a debate I need to cover that afternoon.'

'So, you can stay tomorrow?'

'Yes.'

'Good.'

'I was thinking about how we need to get you an engagement ring.'

'Oh, yes. And what were you thinking?'

'Do you want me to just buy you one and surprise you, or do you want to go to a jeweller together, and you can pick one you like? I'm not really sure how all of this works.'

'Ooo, I think I would quite like for us to choose a ring together,' Mary said, tipping her head up to look at him.

'Yes?'

'Yes. How about we go into York tomorrow?'

'All right.'

She leaned in, kissed him and then sat up. 'I suppose I should go back to my own room now.'

'Yes, I suppose you should,' he said, his eyes roving over her naked body.

'Pass me my nightdress, then,' she said, grinning at him.

'Hmm, are you sure you need it quite yet?' he asked, reaching out to run his finger down between her breasts.

'I do if I'm to walk back to my room, yes,' she said, her eyes glinting with amusement.

'Perhaps another half hour or so wouldn't hurt. I mean, it's still early yet,' Tom said, taking hold of her wrist and tugging her towards him.

Mary chuckled, falling on top of him. 'I thought you said we don't want to upset anyone with our illicit congress.'

'Well, no, we don't, but on the other hand, I have a sudden desire to make you shiver again,' Tom murmured, rolling her onto her back. 'I'll be quick about it, I promise.'

'Oh, no need. Take as long as you like,' Mary gasped, her hands going to his shoulders as he dipped his head to begin kissing her chest.

Standing just behind Mary, Tom peered into the jeweller's window, noting the lack of price tags on the array of rings.

'Why don't they have the price on them?'

'Because it's vulgar to put a price on good quality jewellery,' Mary answered, her eyes scanning the rings on show.

'You mean if you have to ask, you can't afford it,' he said, dryly.

She looked sideways at him. 'Hmm, yes, I suppose we need to talk about a budget, don't we?'

'Aye, I think we do.'

'So, what is it?'

'Well, um, I don't… I don't know. I've never bought an engagement ring before,' he replied, feeling a little unsettled.

'And I'm very glad to know that, but we're about to buy one now, so if you have a budget in mind, you should tell me now before we go in there.'

Tom looked at her thoughtfully. 'I suspect that your idea of what an engagement ring should cost is very different to mine. Perhaps you should tell me what your expectations are first.'

'That's hardly fair. I've never bought an engagement ring either,' Mary said, suddenly uncertain what to say and very aware that she and Tom had not discussed their respective financial situations yet.

'No, but you're more in the know about jewellery than I am.'

She pursed her lips, looking at him thoughtfully. 'I think perhaps we should adjourn to a tea shop instead of standing in the street discussing this.'

'Yes,' he said heavily, suddenly realising this could be something of a stumbling block. 'I think you're probably right about that.'

'So, we should probably talk about money,' Tom said after Mary put the teapot down.

'Yes, I suppose we should. Although it's not a topic I'm used to discussing outside of the office, I must say,' Mary said, feeling uncomfortable, wishing they'd thought to do this in the privacy of Downton Abbey instead of a tea shop in York, however upmarket the clientele.

'No, I suppose not. You've never really had to think about it, have you?' he said, wryly.

Mary tamped down the spark of annoyance that flared in her chest. 'You know I haven't. Not in the same way you have.'

'But you know I'm never going to have the level of riches people of your class always seem to have, don't you?' Tom said, bluntly.

'We're not all as well off as you might think,' Mary retorted, biting back despite herself.

'Yes, but hardship for you and yours is not having as many new dresses during a season as you might like or having five courses instead of seven. It's not wondering how to pay your rent or where the next meal is coming from.'

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'Maybe not, but you're hardly in that position anymore either, are you?'

'No, I'm not,' he admitted. 'I'm better off than I've ever been.'

'So, don't lecture me, Tom. If we're going to talk about this, let's not make it about class. Let's talk specifically about us.'

'Fair enough,' he said, taking a sip of his tea. 'But you know if you marry me, you're never going to have the kind of money you'd have if you married one of your own kind, don't you?'

'If?' Mary countered, her heart bouncing. 'What do you mean if I marry you? I thought we'd established beyond any doubt that we're getting married.'

'We have,' he said, his voice softening, looking contrite. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. It's just… well, I'm a bit worried that you might expect more from me than I can provide. Materially, I mean.'

'I don't expect you to keep me in evening dresses and diamonds if that's what you think, Tom. That's not my life. Not like it was before the war. I don't do the season anymore. Although I do expect to dress nicely. But I think you're forgetting that I earn my own money too. We won't simply be reliant on your wage. I can buy my own evening dresses.'

'So, you're definitely going to carry on working then?' he asked, leaning back in his chair and looking at her speculatively.

'Yes. Why? Are you saying you don't want me to once we're married?' Mary said, sharply.

'No, I'm not saying that at all. I want you to do what makes you happy. If working makes you happy, then keep doing it. I know what it means to get fulfilment from your work, Mary. I wouldn't take that away from you,' he replied, seeing her shoulders relax as he spoke. 'Of course, that does mean you spending a lot of time at Downton. Not in London.'

'Not necessarily.'

'Of course, it does. How are you going to visit tenants and suppliers and vendors if you're in London all the time?'

'I'll split my time,' Mary said, confidently. 'Spend some time in Downton and some time in London. There are things I can do from London without any problem.'

'You're sure?'

'Yes, absolutely.' She eyed him over the rim of her teacup. 'Are you willing to do the same?'

Tom gazed at her, thinking about it, and then nodded. 'Yes. I'm willing to come to Downton whenever I can.'

'And how often do you think that might be?'

'It depends on the political situation. If something's happening I need to report on, I'll need to be in Westminster. Occasionally, I might have to go to Dublin. Or maybe even somewhere else in Britain or possibly the continent. But I've been thinking about it, and I'll start proposing more feature articles to my editors. If I'm writing a feature, I don't necessarily need to be in London. I can write some things at Downton.'

'We won't be spending every day together then,' Mary said, unsurprised but still disappointed.

'No, probably not. But I promise we won't go more than a week without seeing each other.' He cast a look around them and then leaned in, lowering his voice, his eyes twinkling. 'And think of how wonderful it will be each time we see each other again. Don't you remember how we used to celebrate being back together whenever you'd been away and came back to Downton?'

Mary bit back a smile, flicking glances at the tables near them. 'I do, yes. I remember exactly how, er, magical those times were.'

'Magical is one word for it,' Tom said, with a grin. 'As I recall, you once used another rather expressive word for it.'

'Did I?' Mary said, casting her mind back and coming up blank.

'Romping. That's how you described what we were doing,' Tom said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

Mary ducked her head, trying not to blush as the memory of that day came back to her. 'Yes, well, I wasn't wrong, was I?'

'No, sweetheart, you weren't. So, I would imagine there might be quite a bit of reunion romping going on, don't you?'

'Oh, absolutely there will, but I don't want to go a week without being together. Could we look at making sure we spend at least Friday to Monday in the same place?'

Tom nodded, thinking through his usual weekly schedule, if usual was a word that could be applied to his job. 'I think so. The MPs usually head back to their constituencies on Thursday, so unless anything is going on, I could come to Downton or you could come to London then. How does that work for you?'

'I will make it work,' Mary said, determinedly. 'You forget, I'm the boss. I can set meetings and visits at times convenient to me.'

He smiled across the table at her. 'Oh, I know you can, milady.'

'And we'll have to look at where we're going to live in London. I don't imagine I can simply move in with you in your lodgings, can I?' Mary said, not keen on the thought of staying in a lodging house with a landlady scrutinising her every move.

Tom shook his head. 'No, Mrs Snelling only accepts unmarried men. I get the feeling that she doesn't like other women entering her domain.'

'Well, perhaps I could come to London this weekend and we can start looking for an apartment to rent,' Mary said, realising she found the thought of furnishing her own home quite exciting.

'All right. I'll see if I can get hold of some listings.'

'And I'll warn you now, Tom, I intend to hire a maid or a housekeeper.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'Do you, now? Don't I get any say in the matter?'

'No. I still can't cook, and I still can't clean, so I will pay someone else to do that.'

'I can cook. And clean,' he said, mildly.

'Yes, but you are a very busy man,' Mary pointed out. 'And apart from anything else, the time we spend together will be precious. I don't want to waste it on mundanities. And I don't want you to be too tired to fully appreciate your wife because you've been cooking and cleaning on top of working.'

He chuckled, quietly deciding this was a battle he could step away from. 'Ah, I see. Well, if you having a maid will help aid marital happiness, I suppose I can live with that.'

'Good. Now, about this ring, I want you to be honest with me about what you can afford,' Mary said, feeling slightly anxious that she might offend him, but needing to ask the question.

Tom sighed. 'It's not just a question of what I can afford, Mary. It's also how much I feel comfortable with spending on it. We have so many other things we will need to pay for as we build a life together.'

'I know we will.'

'But I do realise that by marrying you, I'm stepping into a different world. The engagement ring I might have bought for a woman of my class would have been very different to the one I will buy for you.'

'More expensive, you mean.'

'Well, yes, because your expectations are higher. And your standards for what's acceptable are higher.'

'Yes, I accept that, but I don't want you to bankrupt yourself, Tom. I'm not that self-absorbed,' Mary said, a little hurt that he might think that about her.

'That's not what I'm saying. And I do have money. I earn a good salary and I have a fair amount of savings and investments. But I don't want to be wasteful with that money,' he said, outlining the bare bones of his financial position.

'So, how much do you want to spend on an engagement ring?' she asked, hoping he wasn't going to say something like £5.

'How does £100 sound?'

'£100?' Mary repeated, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

'Yes.' Tom tilted his head, looking at her, not quite sure how to gauge her reaction. 'You look surprised. Is that good surprised or bad surprised?'

'Oh, good surprised, definitely good surprised,' Mary said, hastily. 'I thought for sure you were going to say less than that.'

'Well, I am conscious that you're an earl's daughter and you're used to good quality jewellery. I don't want to buy you a ring you would rather not be seen wearing,' he said, a wry smile tweaking his lips. 'How much did you think I was going to say?'

'I, um, I'm not sure. Perhaps £30 to £50,' Mary admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

'Oh, right. Well, if you would rather have a ring at that price, you can,' he said, grinning at her. 'I won't insist on you having a more expensive ring.'

Mary smiled. 'Why don't we just finish our tea and go and see what they have in the jewellers?'

'All right then,' Tom said, picking up his piece of cake, pleased that what could have been a difficult conversation had gone well.

'Don't you want to put it on?' Tom asked as they left the jeweller's shop with Mary carrying a small, elegant bag containing a velvet box with her new engagement ring in it.

'Yes, I do, but I need you to do something first,' she said, slipping her arm through his and guiding him up High Petergate towards the west end of York Minster.

'What do you need me to do?'

'Well, I've been thinking, and when people ask me how you proposed to me, I can't very well tell them I proposed to you and we were naked in bed at the time, can I?'

Tom grinned. 'Oh, but it's such a good story.'

'But not for public consumption! I told Sybil the truth and she couldn't stop laughing. I haven't told anyone else, though. I can't!'

'So, you're saying you want a different proposal story to tell people, then?' he said, amused.

'Yes. And I want you to put my engagement ring on my finger.'

'All right. Shall I do it when we get back to Downton?'

'No, I don't want to wait that long. I was thinking that perhaps you could do it here in York. Under the Heart of Yorkshire window at the Minster. Legend has it that a couple who kiss under the window will stay together for all time,' she said, feeling a little silly to be giving credence to such folk tales.

Tom turned his head to look at her, smiling. 'Well, well, well, my little pragmatist really has turned into a romantic, hasn't she?'

'Shut up,' she said, elbowing him as they rounded the small church of St Michael le Belfry next to the looming magnificence of York Minster. 'Do you think I'm being silly?'

'No, mo chuisle, I think it's sweet. And after spending eight years apart from you, I'm very happy to do anything that helps to make sure I'm never parted from you again,' he said, softly.

'Oh, the doors are shut,' Mary said, coming to a halt in front of the Minster. 'I thought it might still be open and we could go inside.'

'We don't need to go inside,' Tom said, guiding her up the steps to stand in front of the big, ancient wooden doors.

'You can't do it outside!' Mary said scandalised, looking around at the handful of people nearby. 'People will see!'

'People would have seen inside too,' he said, completely unruffled. He reached into the bag, took the box out, and then dropped to one knee in front of her.

'What are you doing?' Mary squeaked.

'What do you think I'm doing?' he said, grinning up at her. He popped open the box and held it up to her. 'Lady Mary Josephine Crawley, will you marry me?'

All of a sudden, Mary forgot about the curious eyes of the people around them and looked down at the man she had loved for almost ten years, on one knee, holding a ring out to her. This was exactly what she'd longed for and never believed would happen. And yet here they were.

'Yes, I will,' she said, breaking into a wide smile.

Tom stood and reached for her left hand, sliding her new engagement ring onto it. And then he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her, slap bang under the heart-shaped medieval window high above the Minster doors.

'So, you're really going to marry him,' Rosamund said, her eyes flicking to Mary's surprisingly expensive-looking diamond engagement ring.

'Yes, I am. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, Aunt Rosamund, but you'll just have to get used to it,' Mary said without an ounce of contrition in her voice.

'I suppose I will,' Rosamund said, realising this was a battle she was not going to win and deciding it was time to retire from the field. 'You know your grandmother intends to tell everyone who asks that he's some distant cousin of an aristocratic family somewhere in deepest, darkest Ireland, don't you?

'I didn't, but I can't say as I'm surprised,' Mary said, calmly. 'She can tell people whatever she likes. I really don't care.'

Rosamund looked across the room at Branson making conversation with Matthew. 'You've really loved him all this time?'

'Yes. I know you don't believe me, but I have.'

'I never said I didn't believe you, Mary. I just… I don't understand. What is it about him that has you so rapt?'

Mary cast a sideways glance at her aunt. 'Do you really want to know or are you just being sarcastic?'

'I really want to know. He must have good qualities if you've held true to him for all of these years.'

'He has. He's kind, he's thoughtful, he's respectful.'

'So are many other men.'

'He was the only person who believed me and helped me after Pamuk attacked me. He didn't judge me or sneer at me. He held my hand throughout all of that business. If it wasn't for him, I don't know how I would have got through it,' Mary said, gazing across at Tom, remembering how steadfast he had been in believing and supporting her during those dark days.

'Hmm. I suppose he's fairly decent to look at too. Objectively speaking,' Rosamund said, giving Tom a critical assessment from across the room.

'I think so,' Mary said, a slight smile on her face. 'I think him very handsome.'

'He's not going to embarrass us, is he?' Rosamund asked, brusquely.

'Embarrass us?' Mary twisted her head to glare at her aunt.

'I know he's come up in the world, but you must make sure he is fully trained on the etiquette of our world, Mary.'

Mary scowled. 'He's not a dog.'

'No, but if he's to step into our world, it would be better for all of us – him included – for you to make sure he knows how to comport himself.'

'He does know how to comport himself!' Mary snapped.

'Good,' Rosamund replied, unrepentantly. 'Because otherwise, I would offer to teach him myself. But as you know I am on my way to meet Edith in Switzerland.'

'Oh, yes. It's such a shame you won't be able to come to the wedding,' Mary said, sarcastically. 'We will miss you.'

Rosamund fixed her with a look. 'I know you think I am unnecessarily harsh on your beau, but we have a reputation to uphold. It's important.'

'It's not as important to me as he is,' Mary retorted.

'Then it's a good job that he appears to be able to pass amongst us without attracting too much controversy, isn't it? His profession is a little… avant-garde, shall we say, but I must admit to being somewhat surprised at his ability to fit in with us when I know his origins. I daresay the majority of our acquaintances will not raise too much of an eyebrow at him.'

'Is that really all you care about?' Mary said, rounding on her aunt, tired of listening to her dissecting Tom as if he were a science experiment.

'No, not all. I do want you to be happy, my dear,' Rosamund said, completely unruffled. 'Contrary to what you might think, I am warming to him, which I did not expect. He is erudite and not without charm. But you seem to forget that appearances matter a great deal in our world. I must be sure he will not engender any more talk than absolutely necessary.'

'We won't be living in "our world" all that much. We'll both be far too busy to attend soirees and parties all the time,' Mary pointed out.

'You might not, but I do. And I can't ignore that,' Rosamund said, firmly. 'So, I'll say again, please make sure your new husband does not embarrass us.'

'He won't,' Mary bit out, her jaw clenching in annoyance. She turned to take another drink from Carson, glad that her aunt would not be there when she married Tom.

Lying in bed with Tom that night after another clandestine scoot through the corridors of Downton Abbey, Mary swirled her finger over his chest.

'Rosamund is still wary of you.'

'Of course, she is. She thinks the chauffeur is going to show her up in high society.'

Mary squinted up at him. 'Has she spoken to you?'

Tom huffed out a laugh. 'Yes, but not specifically about that. But I know her type. And it's not exactly an intellectual leap to make, Mary.'

'I told her you wouldn't embarrass us.'

'No, I won't. Not on purpose anyway. I may disagree with your family on many things, but I'm not about to set out to be disrespectful to them.'

'I didn't think you would.'

'We're going to have to take things as they come with this marriage. You know that, don't you?' he asked, smoothing her hair back.

'What does that mean?'

'I mean we're going to have a foot in two different worlds, you and I. Your world and my world, and that might be difficult sometimes.'

'Well, as long as we're doing that together, I think we'll manage,' she said, cupping his face and leaning in to kiss his lips.

'Yes, I think we will,' he said with a smile, rolling over to look down at her. 'But I think we should stop thinking or talking for a while now. Actions speak louder than words, as they say.'

Mary grinned up at him and slid her arms around his neck, drawing him down to kiss her again.

October 1922

'A telegram came for you, milady,' Carson said a few days before the wedding, leaning down to hold out the silver tray with the envelope on it.

'Thank you, Carson,' Mary said, picking it up and wondering if it was from Tom. She opened the envelope to read the message.

SO YOU FINALLY GOT YOUR MAN STOP CONGRATULATIONS STOP SORRY I CAN'T BE THERE STOP I WISH YOU BOTH WELL STOP EDITH

Mary read her sister's unexpected words. For so many years, they had been at odds, each determined to hurt the other in any way they could. Now, for the first time, she wondered perhaps if they might be able to turn a corner and be kinder to each other.

'Who's that from?' Sybil asked, perching on the sofa next to Mary.

Wordlessly, Mary handed it to her. Sybil scanned it and looked up, a surprised expression on her face.

'Well, that sounds… well, it sounds reasonably friendly.'

'It does, doesn't it?'

'Maybe she'd have come if you'd been able to give her more notice.'

'Perhaps, but we didn't want to wait. We've waited for each other for so long already.'

Sybil put her hand on Mary's arm, squeezing gently. 'I know you have, darling. I wasn't criticising. Besides, until now, I wasn't sure that Edith would approve of you marrying Tom. She's really the most snobby of the three of us, isn't she?'

Mary smiled. 'Yes, I think she is.'

'But I think she'll be fine with him when she comes home after her grand European trip.'

'She and I had a talk in the summer. About men. Did I tell you?'

Sybil shook her head. 'No, I don't think so. Where was I? That sounds like a conversation I would have liked to have been part of.'

'I don't know, darling, but I think it helped us understand each other better.'

'Did it? Then I really do wish I'd been there. What did you talk about?'

'Oh, initially it was Edith being nosey about Mr Blake. She asked me how I found him, and I said argumentative. She wondered aloud if opposites might attract. When I said absolutely not, she started to ask me about Tom and whether I'd really never looked at another man.'

'Well, that was a ridiculous question,' Sybil said, dryly.

'I asked her if she'd ever been in love.'

'Ooo, did you? And what did she say?' Sybil said, full of curiosity.

'She said she had.'

'Did she? Who with? No, wait, don't tell me.' Sybil tapped her finger on her lips, thinking for a moment. 'Mr Gregson. It has to be.'

Mary nodded, finding herself slightly relieved that Sybil had guessed rather than breaking what may – in hindsight – have been Edith's confidence.

'But he's married,' Sybil said, lowering her voice. 'Matthew said Mr Gregson had approached him at Shrimpie's estate and asked if he thought Papa would be amenable to him and Edith having a relationship. But he confessed to being a married man and Matthew gave him short shrift. He'd quite liked him until then.'

'I know he's married. Edith told me. She said he can't divorce his wife because she's insane. It sounded quite a tragic scenario.'

'Oh, Matthew never said anything about that,' Sybil said, leaning back, pondering this new information.

'Perhaps Mr Gregson didn't tell him that. Or maybe Matthew didn't give him a chance to,' Mary said, giving Sybil a knowing look. 'We both know that's entirely possible if he got on his moral high horse.'

'Matthew doesn't have a moral high horse!' Sybil said, indignantly.

Mary gave her another look.

'Oh, all right, it's possible. If Mr Gregson led with the fact that he was married but he wanted to still court Edith, perhaps Matthew did get all righteous about it,' Sybil admitted, and then her face lit up with glee. 'Oh! Do you think she's with him now? Do you think she's gallivanting around Europe with her secret lover? How delicious!'

'Well, I shouldn't think she is at the moment, not now Aunt Rosamund is with her,' Mary said, dryly. 'But maybe she was before that.'

'Well, good for her,' Sybil said, grinning mischievously at Mary. 'It's about time she got to enjoy the more… er… shall we say, sensual side of life.'

Mary smiled, quietly agreeing with her sister. If anything was going to make Edith less uptight, perhaps it would be experiencing a loving, fulfilling relationship.

Sybil sighed, enjoying her little fantasy of Edith roaming around Alpine meadows with her lover. 'Perhaps one day soon, all three of the Crawley sisters will be able to be happy with the men they love.'

'I hope so,' Mary said, finding she truly meant that.

'Well, the next step to that happening is your wedding,' Sybil said, linking her arm through Mary's. 'So, tell me about your fitting with Madame Swan. Is your dress looking very gorgeous?'

25th October 1922

The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear and crisp, with a cerulean blue sky, an autumn sun and not a raindrop in sight.

Mary eyed herself critically in the mirror, swivelling from side to side.

'What do you think, Anna? Will I do?'

'You'll more than do, milady,' Anna said, looking fondly at her mistress.

The custom-made cream suit with pale pink embroidery on the cuffs and down the front of the coat, plus the matching hat were perfect for a register office wedding, fresh and bridal, without being too much for the location.

Anna slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress, pulling out the small, crocheted item she'd made for the occasion. 'I have something for you, milady.'

Mary looked over at her trusted maid in surprise. 'Do you?'

'Yes. I was thinking about the bridal rhyme, you know, something old, something new, something borrowed something blue.'

'I think I have all that covered. A garter with a blue rose, a new outfit, Granny's pearls,' Mary said, ticking the items off. 'They cover both old and borrowed.'

'Well, this could cover old, too. Or perhaps just bring you luck.'

'Oh? What is it, Anna? I'm intrigued now.'

'Do you have Mr Branson's heart with you? The little wooden one he made you?' Anna asked, walking over to Mary.

'Of course, I do. It's in my handbag. You know I always have it with me.'

'May I have it for a moment?' Anna said, holding out her hand.

Puzzled, Mary dipped into her handbag, pulling out the small wooden heart that had been her constant companion all these years.

'I thought perhaps you could hang it from your wedding bouquet, sort of like a symbol of everything you two have been through,' Anna said, sipping it into the little, cream and pink, crocheted holder she'd made for it and holding it up for her lady to see.

'Oh, Anna,' Mary breathed, feeling touched by her maid's thoughtfulness. 'That's a lovely idea. Thank you.'

'Shall I attach it to the handle of your bouquet?' Anna asked, happy her small gift had been well received.

'Yes, please. And Anna, thank you. I don't know how I could have got through these last eight years without you by my side,' Mary said, meaning every word.

'Oh, I think we've been by each other's sides,' Anna said, smiling warmly at the woman who was both friend and mistress to her. 'But now it's time for you to marry the person you truly want by your side.'

She held out the bouquet with the little wooden heart now dangling just below the foliage.

'Yes, I suppose it is,' Mary said, happiness blooming in her chest.

As Mary entered the marriage room at the registry office on her father's arm, Tom was waiting for her, looking handsome in the blue suit he'd worn when he'd come to Rosamund's house to see her the day after they'd found each other again.

Her heart beat rapidly as she walked towards him, seeing him beaming at her every step of the way. When they reached him, her father kissed her cheek and then, after a second's hesitation, he held his hand out to Tom, who shook it.

'Make her happy,' Lord Grantham said, gruffly.

'I will, sir,' Tom replied, looking him dead in the eye, and nodding.

Mary smiled at her papa, happy to see him accepting her groom, and then she turned towards Tom, who was looking at her like she'd hung the moon, and the bubble of love in her chest expanded.

'Hello,' he whispered.

'Hello.'

'You take my breath away,' he murmured. 'Every single time I see you, you take my breath away. And today, you are more breathtaking than ever.'

She beamed at him. 'So are you.'

'Are you ready to do this?'

'More than ready,' she said, her eyes locked on his.

'You don't want to change your mind and marry for money, title, or power?' he teased, his eyes twinkling. 'It's not too late. Not yet.'

'No, I want to marry for love. I want to marry the love of my life. I want to marry you,' she whispered.

'Thank God for that. Because I don't think I can live without you,' he replied, his feelings for her written all over his face.

'Shall we start?' the registrar said, making the happy couple turn towards him.

Mary smiled as she felt Tom hook his little finger around hers. He was finally going to be hers and she was going to be his. This was the start of their forever.

Author's notes:

In 1922, £100 would have been worth just short of £4,000 in today's money. That's a substantial amount for a man like Tom and shows how far he's moved up in the world.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read this, especially those of you who were kind enough to leave reviews.