Chapter 1

Author Note:Julian Fellowes' brainchild, not mine - I wish!

Cora beamed with pride as her baby was presented before the king and queen - the countess may not have had quite the same entrance into society as an American, but she knew that Sybil's first step to womanhood by British aristocrat standards was special. Even if, Cora mused with a suppressed laugh, Sybil herself didn't care for all the trimmings and trappings of the lifestyle. As much as Robert and Violet loathed to admit it, the world was slowly changing, and Cora was sure Sybil might grip that fact with both hands. After nodding to their Majesties, mother and daughter walked back to the rest of the family, leaving the throne room. Robert wore a content smile.

"All done?" he asked upon seeing them re-enter the reception room.

"Presented, photographed, done." Cora responded with a grin.

"You both looked splendid." he said. It was Sybil's turn to suppress a laugh - she had bucked with tradition and worn a light blue feather, bringing out her eyes.

"You will no doubt be the belle of the ball, darling." Mary said. Edith nodded in a rare show of agreement. Sybil had the decency to blush. Violet broke the silence.

"No doubt. But shall we go through to prompt our appetites?"

"Granny, you know better than anyone that all the débutantes must be presented before the supper commences." Mary huffed playfully.

The supper was light-hearted, and soon there was a familiar face.

"Sybil, is that you?" someone asked. Sybil turned her head.

"Billy? Billy Russell?" she pondered. It was indeed her neighbour.

"It's good to see you. All of you." Billy said, smiling gently at Mary and Edith. It had been a while since they'd seen the Russells, but Haxby Park had been a nice environment to take tea in, now that they had outgrown running around the gardens.

"So what are you up to?" Edith asked. But Billy could answer, a voice cut through.

"Billy, what are you doing, gallivanting- oh." a stranger entered their little bubble.

"Apologies. Ladies, this my friend Walter Metcalfe. Walter, these are my neighbours, Ladies Mary, Edith and Sybil Crawley." Billy explained. Walter was an auburn-haired man half a head taller than Mary, with a slightly awkward grin.

"Charmed to meet you all. And seeing as supper is under-way, may I treat Lady Sybil to a drink?" he asked, his voice betraying a nervousness. Sybil looked surprised.

"Oh! I... sure." the blue-eyed beauty responded. Mary and Edith looked skeptical, but their little sister was a woman now. Walter gently took Sybil's gloved hand and gestured for a waiter to come over. Mary turned to Billy with a look.

"Billy, are you sure about this?" the eldest Crawley asked, her experience last year sounding off alarm bells in her head. Her ice queen mask must have slipped, because Billy's demeanour shifted to one of reassurance.

"Mary, I know there are horror stories about 'lads sowing their wild oats', but you don't need to worry. Walter is genuinely harmless. With an aunt like his…" he paused to chuckle wryly. "He respects women." he said. "Sybil will be fine."

"She's literally just come out though. You can't blame us." Edith said. "Metcalfe…" she whispered to no-one in particular. The name sounded familiar to her. A few yards away, Sybil and Walter were striking up conversation.

"This champagne is delicious!" Sybil declared, sipping the bubbly liquid.

"First time? Of course, silly question." Walter responded. Sybil laughed.

"Yes. But my family like to cast me as a rebel. Breaking into Papa's liquour cabinet." she winked. "I haven't of course. But just because I prompted a housemaid to leave service, they think I'm an unpredictable whirlwind." she finished with a smile.

"You certainly seem like a very lively person, Lady Sybil." Walter said.

"Oh, just Sybil is fine." Sybil stated, looking up at him.

"Lively and rather lovely." Walter continued, with a slight blush.

"You flatter me, Walter. What do you want to do in life?" she asked, slight envy in her mind at his prospect of an actual occupation.

"Well, to break with family tradition, I want to be a musician rather than solicitor."

"Oh don't let Mary hear that you come from a family of law. Our cousin Matthew is a solicitor and it gets on her last nerve." she chuckled, Walter joining in her laughter.

"I'm a bit of a gatecrasher to the toff circles too - no offence."

"None taken." Sybil responded, her eyes brightening due to alcohol. "How come?"

"My great-grandpapa bought Inglethorpe Hall but didn't inherit it."

"Are you the only one to break with tradition?" Sybil pondered. Walter coughed.

"Oh no. My aunt Agnes is a governor on a school board."

"That's wonderful!" Sybil exclaimed. "Wait... your aunt isn't that Agnes Metcalfe?"

"Guilty." Walter grinned bashfully. "And I agree with her about women voting."

"Walter, I think you and I are going to be great friends." Sybil beamed. Walter, feeling dizzy, gestured for two more glasses of champagne. Whether the dizziness was from the drink or Sybil's beautiful smile, he wasn't sure.

"To finding kindred spirits." Sybil toasted with her new glass.

"To kindred spirits." Walter smiled, clinking his glass with hers. After ten more minutes, he plucked up courage, seeing Mary and Edith out of the corner of his eye.

"Listen, Sybil... I'm not going to be in London for very long, but I want to keep talking to you. I feel like we have some kind of er… connection, right?"

"Me too." Sybil smiled up at her conversation partner.

"Once I leave London, I'm headed for Hampsthwaite in Harrogate - it was pure luck that Billy managed to wrangle a space for me here at the Palace." he laughed. "I'd-like-to-write-you-letters." Walter said this last sentence in one breath.

"Oh gosh…" Sybil trailed. The brunette may be sheltered, but she wasn't dim.

"Just to keep talking, no pressure." the taller individual said with a kind smile.

"Well... " Sybil said slowly just as her sisters were walking towards her.

"That's quite enough of her time you've stolen, Mr. Metcalfe." Mary snapped snootily.

"A real gentleman would have asked her for a dance tomorrow." Edith said. Sybil was shocked at their behaviour and her face showed it. Mary had a weird expression on her face at Edith's comment as she led Sybil away, but Sybil couldn't figure out why. The youngest Crawley looked at Walter again and gave a barely visible nod.

"Honestly Mary, it's nice to see you and Edith agree on something at last, but don't you think both of you are being a bit silly?" sighed a restrained Sybil. This was met with Mary pursing her lips, to which Sybil rolled her eyes at.

"He may have been Billy Russell's friend, but what actual connection did he have?" Mary asked as the sisters were back at the family table. Violet's eyebrows rose.

"Sybil dear, you have only just been presented. Don't tell me you have a suitor already. Why-" but a rather pointed cough from Sybil stopped a possible soliloquy.

"We were just talking! And did it matter if -hic- was a possible suitor?!" the younger brunette exclaimed, the champagne hitting her. "He's second-in-line to a baronetcy!" she lied, knowing such a fib would satisfy Violet. Mary looked at her sister, momentarily disbelieving her, but then thought it was plausible.

"Well it's nice you made that connection." Cora said gently. This comment gave Sybil pause - she knew her mama meant well, but an ulterior motive was possible, with all the talk of 'getting Mary settled'. She just prayed neither of her parents looked Walter up in Burke's when they got back to Grantham House.

From what she'd seen, he shared some of her passions, had a sense of humour, and was easy enough to talk to, albeit a tad shy. What was the harm in having him as a friend? And in that moment, she thought of something to get Cora onside.

"Mary's had plenty of letters -hic- from Evelyn Napier, and he's 'just a friend', rye Mary?" Sybil asked, slurring a bit. Something seemed to twitch in Mary's face.

"Now Sybil darling, you're putting words into my mouth there, and you've had a bit to drink. Evelyn's a dear, and we are friendly, but he has being a future viscount to recommend him to any woman who takes his fancy." Mary responded. She ignored Edith's sigh, which sounded quite like 'you-take-his-fancy' under the blonde's breath.

"What does your Mr. Metcalfe have to recommend himself?" Cora questioned.

"He's not my Mr. Metcalfe, and I already told you all. You're all impossible!" Sybil huffed. On the other side of the room, there was another conversation.

"So you told her you want to keep talking, with no pressure." Billy Russell said.

"I did. You know me, I'm a man of my word." Walter replied. Billy's eyebrow arched.

"But you're rather keen on her already." Billy stated - it wasn't a question.

"There's just something about her." Walter smiled.

"If I hadn't known Sybil when she was in the nursery, I might be inclined to agree." Billy said. "But I have known her for that long. She knows her own mind - something fools like Larry Grey ought to have figured out by now." he chuckled. "Walter, you're sensible enough to know someone like Sybil is worth her weight in gold. Just keep in mind if you say you want to be 'more than friends' with her too quickly, Lord Grantham will personally have you torn to pieces by wild dogs."

"Has this Larry Grey fellow been fed to wild dogs yet?" Walter questioned. Billy let forth a booming belly-laugh, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Cripes... you should be one of those front-cloth comics! The only one who tolerates him is his brother." Billy explained. Walter earmarked that duo as people in Yorkshire society to avoid. He was glad to moving there, ancestral ties or not.

"Lady Mary and Lady Edith don't seem too friendly."

"Not the best first impression they could have made, I'll admit. I did have to convince them you had good intentions while you got to know Sybil."

"Fan. Tastic." Walter said slowly and sarcastically.

The next night, the Crawleys were back at Grantham House, and preparations for Sybil's ball are in full swing. The hall boys carried chairs hither and thither. In the hall, William Mason was setting up a drinks buffet with champagne and punch bowls. In the ballroom, a hall boy was sweeping the floor. The housemaids were dusting ornaments and arranging flowers, and musicians were tuning their instruments for a rehearsal. Sybil, walking through the ballroom, smiled as she heard the tuning.

"Excited?" Cora asked, spying her daughter from the corner of the room.

"Reasonably." Sybil replied. "Is it awfully English of me to say that?"

"Of course not darling." Cora laughed. "And I mean what I said last night - suitor or friend, it's nice you've made a connection." she smiled. Sybil paused for thought.

"You mean you're not trying to push a match?" she asked. At Sybil's comment, something unfathomable appeared in Cora's eyes. Was it pain?

"I know what you're thinking, and yours and Mary's situations are quite different, dear." Cora replied. Sybil may be out, but Cora would still try to protect her. "No matter what Granny might suggest to you, your only duty tonight is to relax, don't worry, and have fun." the countess smiled.