"You are handling this far different than I would," Cora Crawley said, fidgeting as she sat on the well-used couch. Of course the Lothrops preferred to say "well-loved". Cora wasn't in some stuffy study where the furniture was made of stiff leather and were more for decoration than they were for enjoyment. Oh, they had such a room, for when society demanded it, but for this Cat had gone with the more private family room. The Countess of Grantham was clearly uncomfortable in such a room, feeling like an outsider who'd intruded on a domain that wasn't there own and Catherine was strong enough to admit that she did want her feeling that way.

After all, while she did what Mary to reconcile with her mother that didn't mean that Catherine had forgotten the pain Mary had gone through during her exile.

"Of course I am," Cat said with a casual wave of her hand.

"I-" Cora began but Catherine turned away from her, leaning forward so that she could look down at Lillian.

When Allen had called to inform her he was at the train station with the girls' mother and baby sister Catherine hadn't wrung her hands and nervously debated what to do like most women would have been apt to in such a situation. No, she had told him to take the long way home to give her some time to prepare and then set about the house, a plan already in place. And the first thing she'd done was pull the toys her grandson loved to play with out so that Lillian would have something to keep her occupied. Others might have frowned at the wooden trains and carved wild animals from the African Bush and written them off as being unsuited for a little girl but Lillian had taken to them once she had been sure it was okay. It had actually been rather enduring; the toddler had been set down by Cora, walked slowly around the pile of toys before returning to Cat and holding up her doll, the only thing Cora had brought with her, and asked, "Play too?" When Cat, used to translating baby-talk, had told her that yes, she and her dollie could play with the other toys Lillian had firmly nodded, said, "Yes. Good." and set about introducing her personal toy to all the new ones.

'No matter what happens I will be buying the little sweetheart a chest for of trinkets to love,' Cat thought to herself as Lillian carefully lined up the animals in a line and then began to push the train pass them. Catherine clapped as the train got near her and then fought back a laugh when the girl looked at her with an expression that screamed, 'Why are you being silly and clapping? I just pushed the train around!"

Finally pulling herself away from gazing at the child Catherine finally addressed Cora's comment. "Allow me to take a guess at how you would have handled the situation, were you in my position. You would have first tried to go about things in a quiet way, perhaps spoken to people who would in turn have spoken to the other parties? And when that didn't work you'd have held a dinner, invited all sorts of people, and made sure that both parties attended. Then you would have engineered ways for them to get into conversations but there would be other people around so that they couldn't hope to make some grand scene without embarrassing themselves. And finally, through an odd comment or two at just the right moment, get all sides alone in a private room and attempted to mediate the entire thing?"

Cora's lips twitched at that and she quietly nodded her head. "Yes. I… I dare say you put that quite accurately."

"Yes. And I will dare to say that with you and Mary that would have never worked." She began to tick off the points. "The only person you two have in common anymore who haven't chosen a side is the Dowager and she wouldn't be enough to bring you two together. Oh, she could get the first part with her whisper campaign but here is where we run into the second problem: Mary won't listen to whispers anymore. You won't realize it because you haven't been around her but her independent streak has only grown during her time in London. It is hard not to, as the only two options one has in this war are to fall into depression or seize the opportunities that are presented to us. Mary has obviously chosen the latter and as a result has developed far stronger opinions and ideas. One can influence her, of course, if she sees you as a friend or ally. But to be manipulated by cheap whispers? Oh no, that will not work.

"Then there is the matter of a party. Again we'd have to turn to your mother-in-law as I won't be throwing grand dinners here, not while the fighting continues on. Would be quite unseemly. And I doubt very much you want to wait for the war to end before you make amends with your children?"

"No… I would not," Cora said firmly.

"So that would leave your mother-in-law again and while she is one that will attend dinners and events when invited she isn't one to throw them herself. That is quite different from the noble widows I have met who seem so desperate to cling to their time in the sun but Lady Violet does so love to do what is unexpected at times." Catherine smiled and turned to better face Cora. "So we have to go with how I will handle things. And I handle things like a soldier's wife."

"What do you mean?" Cora asked, confused. "Robert was a soldier."

"Yes but not a career one," Catherine stated. "He fought in Africa but then once that was done he returned to Downton and only brought out the knowledge gained from that offensive when he wanted to impress others over drinks. Allen has lived and breathed the army since we married and will continue to do so for… well, he lives it." She had almost said 'will continue to do so for the duration of this war'. Allen had kept it quiet, with only the two of them and the highest officers in British command knowing it, but this would be his last war. Once the fighting was done and the brave lads were back on English soil he would be retiring from the Army he'd served his entire adult life. With Allen's uncle passing away the title of Lord Oakwood had fallen to his father, Bruce, but the old man had made it clear that he would only retain it until the war ended and then it was Allen's problem unless he wished to pass it on to his eldest son. Bruce was too old to fix the mess Allen's cousins had made of the family name. And Allen simply wouldn't burden their children with having to rebuild the Oakwood holdings and thus resigned himself to needing to focus on that.

'And I also might have put my foot down,' Cat thought to herself. 'He needs to spend time with his family now, not have the risk of being sent to this place or that to ensure supplies are being brought in. He has earned a chance to be a free man and I a free woman and he will take the plunge at long last.'

"No, being the wife of a career soldier means that I see things as he does. I have analyzed both sides, determined what they bring with them, determined where things must take place-"

"You make it sound like talking with my daughters will be some sort of horrid battle!" Cora declared, scandalized. Cat merely shot her a dark look, not even bothering to counter the comment, she felt it that foolish. Still, Cora did not back down. "Do you truly believe that it will be a war between us?"

"Lady Grantham, life is war."

"That is rather... cynical of you."

"Perhaps, but it doesn't make me any less right." She shrugged. "We are a species prone to competition and to battle. Every aspect of our lives centers around it in some way. The only difference between the two of us sitting here in this room and savages in the dark jungles is that we fight with different weapons."

Cora shook her head, eyes half narrowed and lips pressed in a firm line. "I beg your pardon but I must disagree. We have moved beyond such things."

Cat laughed at that. "We are fighting right now!"

"...perhaps but only because you seek to prove your point. Life is not a war."

"Why do you wear dresses you find uncomfortable?" Cat asked. "And don't try and claim otherwise. The garment you are currently wearing is the most comfortable thing you've worn in years save perhaps what you don before bed." She gestured at the dress Cora was wearing, one that belonged to Cat's daughter. It was a simple thing, pretty yes but not something one would wear to a grand dinner. "You do so because you are in competition with all the other ladies of the realm to be the most charming and beautiful. The same reason why you decorate your walls with art you do not need and tapestries far more exquisite than your needs demand.

"When you were a young woman, just coming into your own, all the young men warred for your affections. Their weapons were gifts and dances rather than arrows and bullets but they fought all the same. Just as you fought with the girls your age to gain such attentions. And whenever someone in your life has managed to give you a defeat you have gone back to your war chest, chosen a new weapon, and reentered the fray."

"You make it sound so... vile."

"Humanity is vile. Remember that none of the animals in Eden ate from the Tree of Knowledge... it was us who doomed all creation. What does make us different from the savages though is that we can blunt our weapons and halt our blows so they do not do fatal damage."

Cora considered this and Catherine could tell that while she didn't agree with her assessment she was willing to hear it out. "So if it is to be a battle between myself and Mary how would you command me to attack?"

"Ah, but that would be getting ahead of ourselves!" Catherine smirked slightly and reached over to grab her tea cup that was sitting on the table beside her, taking a long sip. "One can not just charge into battle and expect that they will win the day. This will not be a suicide charge, Lady Grantham. This will be pitched battle that I mean to win."

"You mean that we will win."

'No, I think not,' Catherine thought to herself, taking another sip of her tea to cover her non-answer. She didn't say it out loud, as she knew that Cora would at best be confused and at worst be offended but it was true. This wasn't a battle that Cora would win. Nor would Mary for that matter. The winner would be Catherine herself, getting the younger woman she'd grown to care for to mend things with her birthmother while also imparting wisdom to them both that the Crawleys were in desperate need of. While she loved Mary greatly she knew that the woman had her flaws and could see in Cora Crawley the exact same ones. It seemed the entire family had an utter inability to meet in the middle when it came to disagreements. No, there had to be a winner and a loser… which made Cora's comments about life not being like a war all the more humorous. The entire madness Matthew had experienced at Downton in his time there showed that the Earl of Grantham and his loved ones lived in an ever shifting society built upon the sands of conflict.

Mary fought with Edith. Sybil rebelled against her parents. Mary fought with Matthew. Cora and Violet fought against Robert and in secret Matthew and then turned around and fought each other. Violet and Isobel feuded. Robert fought with Matthew and then the girls. Round and round, the cycle always going with different players taking up positions. Such was family, of course, as Catherine would never claim that her family were peace loving and never feuded (her youngest's mysterious need to avoid coming over out of a desire for 'freedom' annoyed her to no end and she'd made her feelings on that to him quite clear) but the Crawleys seemed to be unable to go through a month without some drama coming up that would lead to fights and confusions and then reconciliation.

Hearing the sound of footfalls from down the hall Catherine glanced at Cora and held up a hand. "You will not say a word," she said softly. She could hear Mary quietly talking with one of the maids and knew that she was most likely directing them where to place her purchases in the kitchen for the next round of baking that would occupy her time. "Nor will you move a muscle. I know you'll want to and I understand the urge but you will not move a muscle, be it in your legs or in your jaw. If you do she will either begin yelling at you or storm out. You will trust me to handle this first, to ensure that she will remain in this room and won't launch into a tirade, and only then will you be allowed to plead your case. I would take that time to consider what you want to say… and how not to have a repeat of your last conversation with her."

The Countess of Grantham pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes but Catherine didn't back down. She'd faced Violet Crawley's wrath when the older woman had found out she'd missed out on Mary's wedding… and that it had been such a quiet affair that was 'unbefitting the likes of an Earl's Daughter and an Earl's Heir'… and not only lived to tell the tale but managed to get the other woman to back down. Cora Crawley may have one day managed to match the strength and will of her mother-in-law (and Catherine doubted that) but that day hadn't arrived yet. So it wasn't surprising at all that, after several long moments, Cora backed down, looking down at her hands.

"I don't know if I can make this right."

She said it in such a small voice. It didn't feel right for someone who had been given so many benefits and gifts in their lives, chances that so many in the world would never have, to sound so defeated. And yet she couldn't find it in herself to be angry with her or judge her for how she felt. For Cora Crawley had been dealt a blow no mother would wish for and her privileged upbringing only made the pain worse. For with all she had she's still failed to keep her family together. It was like a fisherman who had the grandest boat and a full crew and managed to only catch boots

Cat, feeling a touch a pity, set her cup down and flashed a more heartfelt half smile. "Thinking like that shows you are already nearly there. Only a fool would go into this thinking they knew just the right thing to say… because there isn't a right thing. No scheme will correct things; only being honest-" She paused, hearing Mary moving again, and shot Cora a look, placing a finger to her lips before she turned towards the doorway.

"Catherine?" Mary called out and Cat saw Cora flinch at the sound of her child's voice and Lillian stop her play, her shoulders going straight and spine rigid. It wasn't a frightened reaction one might expect from such a shy child, nor was it the respectful position a little girl who was used to being prim and proper would adopt. Rather it reminded Cat of her departed father and how during pheasant hunts he'd suddenly go quiet and alert, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. She made a quick mental note to spend more time around the littlest Crawley before forcing all other thoughts from her mind. "Are you here?"

"Yes, in here!" Cat called out. "How was your day?"

"Well enough though the markets are growing more and more bare with each passing week. And more expensive as well. I think I'll have to completely swear of pies for a while, which is a shame, but I just can't justify making a single pie when I could easily make some basic cookies several times over." Mary entered the room, not looking up as she reached down to adjust her boot. She was wearing a rather plain (for her, at least; even with her mellowing out in her time in London Mrs. Matthew Crawley was still Lady Mary and her worst outfit would light up a room and be the talk of all that saw it) long brown skirt, white dress shirt, thick-heeled boots. Something perfect to go about town. "Lavinia will be happy, as she has gotten quiet tired of me-" Mary let out a little grunt as she tried to get the boot in a more comfortable position, "-spending so much time checking over the produce. Though she certainly doesn't mind eating the end re…sults…" she trailed off as she realized just who was sitting next to Cat and it was plain to the older woman that the little steam engine that was Mary's mind was already filling the fire with extra logs and the smoke was going out thick and black. All her amusement and good humor snapped away, replaced first with surprise and then a darkening rage.

Thus Catherine did the only thing she could do, her plan from the moment Allen had told her what had happened and of Cora's desire to reunite with her children: she used the toddler as a shield.

"Lillian," Catherine said sweetly, rising up and holding out her hand. "Would you please come here?" The little girl looked at Cat's extended hand, tilting her head slightly before nodding and grasping her fingers with her own tiny ones. Catherine led her right up to Mary, the younger woman staring at her with growing rage, but Catherine merely smiled and moved so that Lillian was in front of her, hands placed on the child's shoulders. "Lillian, this is your sister, Mary."

"Sister?" Lillian asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

"It means you have the same mummy and daddy," Catherine said sweetly.

Lillian considered this carefully and Cat could already see Mary forcing the flames of her anger to peter away when confronted with the child. Oh, for the briefest of moments it was clear that Mary wanted to blame Lillian for everything, for after all it had been her conception that had started them down the path they had all found themselves upon. But Mary may have been one to hold grudges but even she had her limits and blaming a child for the acts of their parents was a step too far for her. Also there was the bond the two of them shared of being Crawley girls… and both being born the wrong sex. Cat also imagined that there were enough similar features between Lillian and Sybil when she'd been a baby to draw Mary to her.

'And it helps she's ridiculously cute.'

"Mama?" Lillian asked, pointing at Cora before turning to Mary once again. "Mama?"

"Yes," Mary said. "That is your mama… and my mama."

Lillian considered this world altering information that she actually had to share her parents with someone else and quickly decided she was okay with that and would allow it. "Yes. Yes. Lillian's sister."

"Lillian, why don't you and Mary sit down where I was and Mary can tell you about what she did today."

"I don't know if she'd be interested-" Mary began, clearly put on the backfoot by the sudden change in the conversation from how she'd expected it to go, but Cat merely motioned for her to sit down, not reacting at all when Mary chose to sit on the end of the couch farthest from her mother. Cora winced ever so slightly but a glance at Cat was her only other reaction. Lillian carefully clamored up and sat next to Mary, watching her with inquisitive eyes until finally she relented. "Well, you see… I like to bake things. Cookies and cakes and pies and other sweets. So I have to get all the ingredients in order to make them… at Downton I know Mrs. Patmore makes all of that but I like to make them myself in London." She paused and then quickly added. "What is your favorite treat?"

Lillian smiled slightly. "Ginger No-Snaps."

At Mary's befuddlement Cat shot Cora a look and the other woman quickly said, "Mrs. Patmore made a very soft ginger snap cookie and Lillian loves them. But since they don't break apart and more just… tear… she refuses to let us call them 'Ginger Snaps'. Since that is wrong."

"Wrong," Lillian echoed. "No snap so No-Snaps." She declared it like the king proclaiming a new knight to the entire realm and Cat bit back a chuckle.

Mary too was already enchanted by the little girl and began to discuss what she did at the grocer to get what she needed to back, never once saying a word about how Cora would occasional translate Lillian's questions from toddler babble to proper English. As she spoke Mary slowly reached around to place her hand on Lillian's head and in turn the little girl scooted closer to her. By the time Mary was describing how to lay the crust on top of a cherry pie her baby sister was curled up next to her, eyes drifting shut as she rested her head on Mary's lap, the eldest of the Crawley girls stroking her hair like Lillian was a kitten.

'The first thing a good general does is know the battlefield,' Catherine thought, remembering his husband's words to her. 'You can be prepared in all other matters but if you do not know the lay of the land then you have already failed as a commander of men. Know the land and make sure that it works for you; if it doesn't give you an advantage then abandon it.' That was why she'd chosen the room they were in now. The placement of the chairs forced everyone to look at each other while keeping them properly apart so there would be no physical contact without both having plenty of time to see it coming; Cora wouldn't be able to reach out to touch Mary's hand or knee and cause the younger woman to react negatively at the unwanted contact. It was a comfortable place that put people at ease so that Mary wouldn't feel like she was caged or trapped. And for Cora it did not let her feel like she had entered a foreign place, unfamiliar and unfriendly. No, warmth and comfort were needed.

'Know what you have and what your foes have and what you lack. Every supply, from the strongest cannon to the tiniest spoon, must be known. Understand how your enemy will fight, how they will run, how they will surrender. Understand them till you can place yourself upon their side of the field and know what commands will be given.'

Cat hadn't brought Lillian to Mary merely out of kindness. She understand that the younger woman, for as much as she tried to claim that she was still an ice queen who could stare down anyone without a flicker of emotion, simply wasn't that woman. Not 'that woman anymore' but rather 'had never been'. She'd played the role but never hardened her heart to the world. No, it was more that she shielded her heart, chose to throw up barriers and then leave with a confident turn of her head rather that confront the true problems in her life. The same would have been true with any conversation with her mother (and the fact that she had avoided Cora for nearly 2 years proved that). But by first having her focus on Lillian she got the other woman to calm down and not react purely on instinct and then used the toddler as a weight to keep her first entrenched on the sofa. It had been easy enough to keep the little girl up far longer than she was used to so that she'd fall asleep right on top of Mary, as Cat knew that women like Cora didn't actually pay attention to their children's schedules save for when they directly interacted with them (which was rare) and thus it never occurred to Lady Grantham that her daughter was well past her nap time.

'And as an added bonus it reminds Mary that her family isn't merely the Crawleys in London. There are other people, including the one she has only now just met.' Cat knew that after spending a bit of time with Lillian that Mary would be unable to just forget about her. No, she would remember her and at minimum want to be there for her. And that opened the crack in her rage that Cora would need. 'But now it was up to her.'

Finally Mary looked at her mother and the smile she hadn't realized she was wearing fell away as she stared at the woman that had raised her. "I don't know what we can say to each other that hasn't already been said."

To Cora's utter credit in that moment she came upon the perfect thing to say.

"Then let it not be us talking to each other," Cora said simply, her mouth working a bit at the end of her comment. "You just talk to me."

"I don't follow," Mary said.

"You talk to me. I won't say a word until you allow me to." She glanced at Catherine and she had to hide her smile behind her hand; oh yes, Cora Crawley was a quick learner.

"And what would you have me say?" Mary demanded. "Tell you how you hurt me? Insulted me? Made me feel like less than nothing and how I have spent the last 2 years building a life beyond Downton? About how I've discovered everything you and papa thought were so big and so important were in fact so painfully small in the face of the reality that is our world?"

Once more Cora surprised them all by not saying what one might have expected. There were no excuses made to absolve her of her sins. No rushed apologizes or reassurances that would have sounded false to Mary's ears. No, Cora merely settled into her chair, placed her hands on her lap, and said with all the sincerity in the world. "Yes."

"Yes?" Mary echoed. "Yes?"

"Yes," Cora replied. "If that is what you wish to tell me than speak the worlds. I will listen. As I should have after… well, after what your father did to you. So go ahead, Mary: talk to me."

She stared first at her mother and then at Cat, then back to her mother again as if she expected one of them to suddenly speak up and reveal that this was all some grand trick and that they should go about how things were normally handled by people of their station: by pretending that the issue didn't actually exist and allowing cold silences and veiled comments fill the air. But when neither said a word Mary looked down at Lillian, running her fingers through her light locks, and let out a long drawn out sigh.

"Since the moment I understood just what a boy and a girl was I have felt that I was a disappointment no matter what I did. It didn't matter how smart I was or how skilled all that mattered was that I wasn't a son. And I know now that it is utterly foolish to feel that way but whenever I did something and got praise I wondered, "And how much more would I get if I were a boy?". You would clap your hands in delight or papa would say, "Good show, Mary!" and even as I smiled I would know that if I were merely male the praise would have been higher." She flashed a bitter little smile that made Cat flinch in pain at the sight of it. "I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if I were a man rather than a woman.

"Not just that I would be heir and that you and papa would be happy. No, I think about how I would be different here-" she tapped her forehead with her free hand, "-and here," she tapped her chest with a single finger. "I think I might have been happier. Kinder too. The world looked down at me so I looked down on them and return. I worried myself sick about the silliest of things, things that didn't actually matter, and saw in every glance and comment judgment and incrimination. I would have been able to relax more, to enjoy life more. To celebrate accomplishments instead of worrying if I'd done enough." She looked up and huffed. "Of course I also imagine I might have been a bit more… lazy. Patrick was lazy, knowing that unless he was a complete disgrace Downton was his. I envied his ability to just sit in the library and read a book or longue under a tree during a summer day without a care. Yet I also feel grateful that I gained the drive I have now as while I might have been happier I don't think the woman I am would have much liked the man I could have been.

"I have spent so much time worrying about what people think of me and striving to make up for a fault that was never a fault… my being a woman isn't a sin or a crime and yet I was punished for it! Looked down upon, opportunities ripped away from me, treated like a pawn, and… and…" she dropped her head and shut her eyes. "And I did it as much to myself as everyone else did. I never stood up for myself, not until it was truly too late." She let out a dark coughing laugh. "I make it sound all tragic and noble, like I was one of Sybil's feminist icons who had awakened late in life to realize the unfairness of it all and decided to be a champion for my entire gender. 'If I can't have fairness at least I can give it to others!'." She let out a scoff that Cat had a feeling was all too familiar to the people of Downton. "It was anything but! I stood up for myself not because I was tired of being treated as something less. I didn't stand up because it was a man who being given Downton. I stood up because I was being passed over in favor of a middle class lawyer. Classism. Elitism. Snobbery. They were the causes I became the champion of!"

Mary fell quiet and focused instead on playing with strands of Lillian's hair, the child merely continuing to sleep, her mouth parted slightly as she breathed in and out, perfectly calm. Catherine could tell that Cora wanted to speak, to offer comfort and support to Mary, but her desire to honor her promise, to let Mary talk until she was ready for Cora to speak, held her tongue and saw her remain silent.

"I wonder what it would have been like if Matthew hadn't been so understanding. Had he been unable to swallow his pride and stubbornness and come at me just as hard as I came at him. If he'd refused to look past our snobbish attitudes and how we treated him so poorly in the beginning. I… I like to think that we'd have still ended up together but I fear it would have been a much rougher road than what it was. And that hurts me more than any wound. The idea that I might have missed out on what I have with Matthew now… it is something that hurts to even consider." She locked eyes with her mother then, holding her gaze and refusing to let go, quietly daring her to speak up, to try and deny what Mary had said. But Cora merely motioned for her to continue and Mary, slightly startled by her mother's continued allowance of her emotional release, continued on.

"I am so thankful that Matthew was able to see past my bigotry and bias and bring out the woman I am now. He has made me so much better, mother. You saw it, Granny saw it, everyone saw it! And yet papa ignored that… he ignored not just how I felt about Matthew but the person I had become with him. He thought I was the same boorish child I had been before Matthew arrived. Worse, he wanted me to return to what I had once been! He insulted the man I loved, called him a coward for daring to think of my happiness rather than whatever honor he might get, and then thought nothing of tossing me onto a man I had never met purely so that Downton could shine in the eyes of England! And you… you wanted me to apologize! Not him… me!"

Lillian murmured and Mary clenched her jaw shut, forcing herself to take a few moments to calm down before speaking once more in a calmer voice.

"Why did you want me to do that mama? That's what I can't understand. Why… why would you want me to make myself so… small? To crumple at his feet and beg for his forgiveness when he was the one in the wrong. The one that made the scene, that cast Matthew out, that forced me into exile?" Mary blinked back the tears she hadn't been able to shed that night out of fear that doing so would have been weakness. But at long last she was allowed to let them roll down her cheeks. It was something that both of the Crawley women needed, in Cat's opinion. Mary needed to unburden herself and Cora needed to see the physical proof of what that night had cost Mary. For while they'd all done well to put a pretty face on it and many would think that Mary and her sisters had only benefitted from their self-imposed exile. But there had been a cost and it was time to see just how much it had been. "I want you to speak now. I want you to tell me what you were thinking when you asked me to do that. Just… why?"

Cora didn't even hesitate. Clearly she had been thinking of what she wanted to say since Mary had begun. Most likely before that. Probably before she'd even decided to leave Downton. Cat had a feeling Cora had known what she needed to say, without even realizing it, the moment Mary had stormed out of the Grantham Arms nearly two years ago.

"Because I was selfish and didn't want to lose anyone," she said in a quiet but firm voice. "I found myself trapped in a prison of solid truths. Your father had been wrong to attack Matthew as he did. You were angry and hurt. Your father is a stubborn fool who clings to his preconceived notions. And I was going to lose at least one of you. I looked at those four things and decided to try and break through one of them… losing you both. I knew I'd never be able to convince your father to apologize on my own so I thought that if I could at least get you two together we could work on…" she shook her head. "It doesn't matter what I thought because I was wrong. And not just because I now see that your father will never change his mind… at least not if it were merely use trying to show him the truth. It will take something far more powerful than either of us to get him to open his eyes. No, I was wrong because I should have never tried to use you like that purely because I wanted to cling to something that had already begun to change. Doing so only… made it happen all the quicker. Losing you. And all I can say is that I am sorry I wasn't stronger."

Mary was quiet for a VERY long time. Cora shifted in her chair. Cat merely sipped her tea.

"I am not the woman you knew at Downton. I'm married now. London is my home. I have friends you've never met and I help out with the war effort in my own ways that you probably would have never considered for me." Mary sighed and shook her head. "If you thought you could just reenter my life and we'd return to having dinners and afternoon teas together you were mistaken. You are my mother… but I am a stranger to you now." Cora opened her mouth only to not say a word. "You may talk again," Mary said.

"I know that. That we'll need time. And I also know that this isn't about getting you to fit into my life… I need to find my place in yours. It will take time but I am willing to do it. All I want… is a chance. Can you give me that?"

Mary looked down at Lillian again and nodded.

Cat smiled. It wasn't the kind of happy reunion she'd have put in one of her novels, as the readers would revolt if everything wasn't resolved nice and neatly with a bow on top. But it was a start and sometimes… sometimes that was enough.

~A~O~O~O~F~

Author's Notes: And thus we have the big confrontation. And things… aren't settled. Because that isn't how life works. It isn't that the problem is solved after 40 minutes. No… people make mistakes and then they must work to solve them.

Next time we leap to Thomas and check in with him.

But first our plot bunny and this is inspired by a back and forth I had with a reviewer. The premise is for a comedy story. Everything about Downton is exactly the same… except when Matthew arrives he is introduced to Lady Sybil… who is barely 8 months old.

And everyone treats her like she's an adult.

Okay, that is odd but Matthew can handle that… until Robert introduces him to his new driver, an 8 month old baby dressed as a chauffeur named Tom Branson.

Matthew: Robert, why did you hire a baby to be your driver?

Robert: Well, he had very good references.

(Holds up a scribbled crayon drawing. Tom, meanwhile, is gumming his hat)

Or…

Cora: Sybil is just so… rebellious!

Matthew: No she isn't… I don't think she's even cognizant of where she is right now.

(Baby Sybil blinks and falls down on her side. Blinks again)

Or…

Carson: So you have been doing this in secret? Trying to become a secretary?

Gwen: Lady Sybil has been helping me!

(camera pans to Baby Sybil happily tearing a piece of paper and then giggling)

Or…

Robert: Sybil and Tom have run off together!

Matthew (frustrated): No, they are right there!

(Camera pans to Baby Sybil in a nurses uniform, Tom playing right next to her)

Violet: Oh, we must do something about this!

Matthew: Is all the piping in this house lead? Do you all have brain damage?!