Chapter 3

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

Sybil had gone for a nice stroll, and gotten a healthy dose of the late June air when she walked through the double doors of Grantham House.

"Ah. Lady Sybil." Carson's baritone sounded. "There is some post for you." he said, his hand holding a tray. Sybil took it with a smile, the letter heavier than expected.

"Thank you, Carson." she said, fairly certain she knew the hand on the envelope. Walking into a corridor, the brunette opened the letter, seeing a now-familiar script.

"Sybil." she read. "Good to know that your other dancing partners can at least hold a good conversation. My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation." she chuckled. Walter was an avid reader of Jane Austen, and Sybil had to admit, the author and her friend shared a similar wit. This included Walter lifting quotes from the novels in his letters. "Things here are going well - Fenwick Cottage is nearly decorated, and should be finished by the end of the Season. Not a brick out of place when that cheeky chauffeur friend of yours drives you there in style." she read. Sybil paused after this. Branson had saved her at the rally, and they got on, but... Walter's comment had Sybil mull that over. Her friendship with the latter was easy. Branson could be a good ear, and she had defended him, but there still that reminder of the social boundary.

The brunette focused her mind on the mention of Fenwick Cottage. Walter's apparent new residence in Hampsthwaite. He'd sent a sketch of the building to her about a fortnight ago. Someone like Mary might have scoffed at it, but going by the drawing, Fenwick had looked cosy to Sybil. Red-brick on the outside, a tiled roof, a plentiful front garden, and what looked to be three, possibly four bedrooms.

"I must admit, a project like this needs a female eye as well as a male one, and going by our previous conversations and letters, I trust yours quite a bit. I wish you were nearby." Sybil uttered with a smile. She'd been walking to the small library while reading the letter, and this last sentence caught the attention of Edith.

"Who wishes you were nearby?" the strawberry-blonde asked.

"Walter, if you must know. He's furbishing his cottage and wanted a female perspective." Sybil replied. Edith's expression was a most peculiar cross between a pout and a restrained laugh. "What?"

"All these London dances and your most frequent correspondent is nearly 200 miles away." Edith replied candidly. "You do get yourself into interesting situations, Sybil."

"Edith, I'm not sure what happened in Ripon counts as 'interesting'."

"That's not what I meant." Edith said slyly, seeing the younger woman's diversion for what it was and side-stepping it. Sybil sighed - she loved Edith, she really did, but a little bit of maturity wouldn't go amiss. All three of the Crawley girls were now grown women, despite what the social crowd of sillier débutantes and sons of peers might suggest. Walter may have been quoting, but he might have been onto something on his letter - good company was the company of clever, well-informed people. As Edith walked away, Sybil turned her attention back to the letter.

"If you may have any ideas on Fenwick I'd be grateful to hear them. That's why I have enclosed two photographs in this letter." she read, her eyebrows raising at the last sentence. The brunette beauty had to admit, she was intrigued.

"I make no bones about your friendship becoming very important to me, and I miss joking around with you in person. Here's hoping you can visit Hampsthwaite once you're back in Yorkshire. Your faithful friend, Walter." she smiled. The envelope still in her hand, she sat down on a settee and put the letter beside her to carefully take out the tintypes. They were pale brown like all photographs, but she saw a medium shot of Fenwick Cottage, garden in bloom, and a shot of a comfortable sitting room.

Not quite the opulence of the small library she was currently in, but she wasn't one to judge by such standards. The next Monday morning dawned overcast.

"Good God in heaven!" Robert sounded, folding his newspaper in shock.

"What is it, Papa?" Edith asked. Robert took a moment to compose himself.

"Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife have been assassinated."

"The heir to the Hasburg throne?" Mary pondered, half-knowing she was right.

"The very same. No doubt I'll be called up to the Lords, as Asquith will no doubt have something to say on the matter."

"He's likely to react, whether it be positive or negative. Isn't that more than nothing?"

"I suppose so, Sybil. There's bound to be talks about 'balance in Europe'. Which is fair enough. I just pray the meetings don't go on too long."

"Is it necessarily our business to get involved?" Sybil pondered. Thinking about her own political opinions, she may not always see eye to eye with Robert on some things, but he was right - Asquith would likely have to say. Robert sighed heavily.

"I guess that will have to remain to be seen, dear." he replied. What Sybil had done in Ripon had rubbed him the wrong way, but her question was reasonable.

About a fortnight later, the Season was over and the family were back in Yorkshire. Sybil half-smiled as she walked through the familiar double-doors of the abbey.

"What a relief to be home." Robert sighed. Cora rolled her eyes with a shrewd smile.

"Don't listen when his Lordship pretends not to enjoy the Season."

"When in Rome." Robert replied.

"Will Lady Mary be back soon?" Mrs. Hughes asked.

"She's staying on with my sister for a couple of weeks." Robert supplied, as the servants helped the family dispose of their travel clothes.

"So Grantham House is closed?" Mrs. Hughes pondered.

"It will be by the end of this week. Dear Mrs Hughes, I hope you've had some time to yourself while we've been away." Cora smiled. She'd always liked the Scot.

"I've tackled a few jobs that get forgotten about when the house is full."

"Any local news?" Robert asked. Mrs. Hughes sighed.

"The main topic here is the murder of the Austrian Archduke." she admitted.

"Here and everywhere else." Carson cut in.

"I'm afraid we haven't heard the last of that." Robert said, making his way upstairs.

"Mrs Hughes, have you had any thoughts about the garden party for the hospital?"

"I've started on it milady, but there are things we need to talk about." the Scot replied.

"Oh, dear. That sounds like trouble. I'll take my hat off. Sybil?" Cora's voice made Sybil and Edith stop in their tracks before ascending the stairs.

"You were a great success in London, darling. Well done." the countess complimented. Sybil smiled and went up the stairs. Edith looked at her mother.

"You never say that to me." Edith sighed, looking deep in thought.

"Don't I? You were very helpful, dear. Thank you." Cora said, taking Edith's hand and leads her up the steps. "Is there something on your mind?"

"You said Sybil was a great success in London, but it looked to me like her attention was mostly on her new 'friend', and he was only actually there for two nights." Edith chided, stressing one word sarcastically. Cora sighed.

"Edith darling, Sybil would surely tell us if it was anything serious. And I've talked to Mr. Metcalfe. He seems like a perfectly reasonable young man to me. So I told him he was welcome to Downton, should he be passing." she said. Edith sighed. Maybe she was jaded that Sybil had achieved something she hadn't.

The next day, Sybil popped into Ripon to get something. Once Branson and the motor had disappeared from view, she came across an unexpected surprise.

"Walter Metcalfe, as I live and breathe!" she grinned. Walter turned his head.

"Hello Sybil." he smiled warmly, offering a handshake. Sybil laughed and stood on tiptoes to peck his cheek. The musician went pink but didn't reject her gesture.

"What are you doing in Ripon? It's a good eleven miles from Hampsthwaite."

"It seems to be the only place round here with good electricians for hire. I figure it's cheaper to hire slightly out-of-town ones to do some work on Fenwick Cottage than me, Billy Russell and some other friends trying to install it ourselves." he chuckled.

"Just be careful you don't bump your head on a chandelier." Sybil smirked. Walter shook his head affectionately. Letter-writing just wasn't enough.

"So how are things?" he asked. Sybil's expression was thoughtful.

"Well, there's some peace and quiet because Mary's staying on in London for a while. So she and Edith aren't clawing each others' eyes out at the moment. Mama's getting things moving for the garden party we're hosting three weeks on Tuesday."

"That should be reasonably fun." Walter said. Sybil was suddenly struck with an idea.

"Say, why don't you come? Mama said that she likes you well enough." Sybil continued. Walter sighed with relief, thankful his admittedly awkward conversation with Cora hadn't been a complete disaster. Sybil looked up at him and smiled.

"I'd be glad to. To reciprocate, do you have a day to see Fenwick Cottage? I would honestly like your opinion. If all goes well, it should be done in a fortnight."

"Of course!" Sybil beamed. "And before you make some witty remark about it not being grand enough, that doesn't bother me. Those photos are fine." she finished.

"I'll put you down on the guest list for the housewarming too." Walter grinned.

"It'd be a pleasure. As long as Mary's convinced I don't need a chaperone."

"This is why I said you and your mama are the only nice ones." Walter said. "Ladies Mary and Edith seem a bit... stiff to me. But I guess I'm just a lower-class individual stealing their little sister's attention. Not to mention, your shopping time too."

"Nonsense! They just need to get to know you. And the garden party is the perfect opportunity." Sybil said. "And the only one who needs to worry about my shopping time is Branson." she continued cheekily. "Besides, tell Mary you might inherit Inglethorpe, and she'll sing your praises." she winked.

"I may not know her well, but for your sake I won't compare her to a similarly-named fictional character." Walter said. "That would be mean. Anything else in your world?"

"Mama's pregnant." Sybil smiled. "It'll be nice to not be the youngest anymore."

"Well extend my congratulations to Lady Grantham." Walter grinned. "I fear I've already taken up too much of your time, so let me know if you can pop up to Fenwick. Your smile always brightens my day. It was lovely to see you again."

"You too, Walter. You could never take up too much of my time, but I will definitely let you know. Good luck finding those electricians." Sybil smiled, standing on her tiptoes again for a goodbye peck. Walter beamed down at her afterwards and parted with a handwave. After a good shopping trip, Sybil walked back to the motor and Branson.

"A good outing, Lady Sybil?" the Irish voice asked. Sybil smiled contentedly.

"Splendid, Branson. A few good purchases and a talk with a good friend can set everything right in the world." she clarified. Branson's shoulders seemed to tense.

"I'm not sure everything is 'right in the world' currently, milady."

"Oh Branson, you know what I mean!" Sybil chirped.