Chapter Text

Train to Leeds

The train continued its rhythmic journey, the clattering of wheels echoing in the background. Mary's initial shock and disorientation began to recede, and she slowly reconnected with her surroundings. She turned to Tom, seeking further clarification about their destination and their future.

"Where are we going?" Mary's voice carried traces of disbelief, reflecting her lingering sense of surrealism.

Tom, his demeanour calm and reassuring, replied, "We're going to Leeds." His gaze drifted to the passing landscape outside the window as he spoke. "I actually have a property in the city, so we will eventually have somewhere to stay. Unfortunately, at the moment, the apartment is not liveable."

Mary, now more alert and curious, was taken aback by this revelation. "You have an apartment in Leeds?" Genuine surprise coloured her words, as her mind struggled to process this newfound information.

Tom nodded, a hint of pride gracing his voice. "Yes, remember I told you I had investments? Well, the house in Leeds is one. It's quite large. There's a basement, a ground floor, and then there are three additional floors which have been converted to flats. The third floor flat even have access to the attics where an additional two bedrooms were created. These flats are currently rented, adding to the additional income."

As Tom unveiled the extent of his financial endeavours, Mary's embarrassment over her own lack of financial knowledge began to surface. She realised that she had always taken money for granted, never having to manage her own finances. Tom's revelations were opening her eyes to the practicalities of the real world.

"You said we'll eventually be able to live there?" Mary inquired, her curiosity now fully engaged.

Tom confirmed her hopes with a reassuring nod. "Yes, I always intended for the basement and the ground floor to be my own personal flat, so this was the last one to be renovated with Cartwright, the builder I have hired to do the work. I will have to speak to him on the progress, but in the meantime, we can get rooms in a hotel."

Mary was still processing the implications of this new reality when she posed her next question, her anxiety palpable. "A room together?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Tom, ever understanding and considerate, replied gently, "I'm afraid so. Though I have money, and I am earning decent money, it is not all readily available in cash. Also, it's important that I save for Harry's and my business. I can't afford the expense of paying for two hotel rooms for however long it takes for the renovation to be completed."

The weight of her situation began to settle on Mary's shoulders. The stark realisation that her reputation was irrevocably tarnished, especially given the societal standards of 1913, was sinking in. She slumped back into her seat, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery beyond the train window. Her thoughts swirled with uncertainty about the daunting and uncertain future that lay ahead.

Reputations

The Queen's Hotel in Leeds was a grand establishment, its lobby adorned with opulent furnishings and bathed in warm, golden light. Tom had chosen this grand hotel with Mary in mind, he felt the opulence of the hotel wouldn’t be as shocking as a lower-class establishment would be, though this did mean they would need to share a room.

Tom had booked a twin room, knowing it was more cost-effective than booking separate rooms, but he was also aware of the societal expectations they would need to navigate, so took the liberty of booking them in as Mr & Mrs Branson, to avoid further scandal.

As they settled into their room, Mary couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle over her. She had always been accustomed to the comforts and luxuries of Downton Abbey, and this was a stark departure from her previous life. Her reputation, something she had taken for granted, was now in tatters, and it weighed heavily on her.

Tom, perceptive as always, sensed her apprehension. He took a seat across from her, his expression serious yet empathetic. "Mary, we need to talk about the impact of all this on your reputation," he began gently.

She nodded, her gaze fixed on her hands, which were folded in her lap. "I understand that this scandal could seriously affect how I'm perceived in society. I might not be welcomed back with open arms."

Tom nodded in agreement. "The challenges women face in these situations are far greater than men. It's unjust, but it's the reality we live in. Reputation is everything."

Mary sighed, feeling the weight of it all. "And to secure a place at the University of Leeds, I'll need character references and a good reputation. All the studying and hard work might be for nothing."

Tom's voice was sympathetic. "I know it's unfair, Mary. But there is a solution."

She looked up, her eyes searching his for answers. "What solution?"

Tom met her gaze, his expression unwavering. "We should get married as soon as possible. It would help mitigate the worst effects of the scandal. Your exams are still four months away, and during that time, the scandal might fade, especially if you're a married woman."

Mary contemplated his words, her mind racing. This was an unexpected turn of events, and yet, it seemed like her only chance to salvage some semblance of her former life. She admired Tom, respected his determination, intelligence, and the kindness he had shown her as a tutor. There was even a flicker of attraction, but she had never allowed it to fully develop. "Do you even like me?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Tom's response was immediate and sincere. "Mary, of course, I like you. You're hardworking, intelligent, and resourceful. You have many admirable qualities. Any man would be honoured to marry you."

The gravity of the situation pressed upon them both, and in that moment, the decision was made. Mary and Tom would embark on a path they had never imagined, bound together by circumstance and necessity, with the hope that their union would offer a chance at redemption and a future filled with possibilities.

The Article

Tom purchased the local newspapers, a sense of unease gnawing at him as he flicked through the pages. His heart sank when he found the inflammatory article that was poised to ignite a storm of scandal. He knew that he had no choice but to show Mary the paper, yet a small relief washed over him as he realised that, at least, their names had not been printed for all to see.

Mary observed Tom's troubled expression as he perused the article, her curiosity piqued. "What is it, Tom?" she inquired, her voice tinged with anxiety.

Wordlessly, Tom handed her the newspaper, his jaw clenched in apprehension. Mary's eyes darted across the bold headline that screamed scandal and sensationalism.

📰 Society's Whispers: A Scandalous Affair Unveiled!

She took in the damning words that alluded to a secret liaison, one that had shaken the tranquil halls of an esteemed English estate. Although her name had been omitted due to the constraints of libel laws, the implications were clear. Her reputation, the most precious possession she had, was tarnished beyond repair.

Tom watched her closely, aware of the weight of the revelation and the damage it had inflicted on her standing in society. He knew now, more than ever, that their only path forward was to marry as soon as possible, presenting themselves as a respectable married couple.

The article painted a vivid picture of clandestine meetings and stolen glances amidst the lush gardens of the estate. It hinted at a recent gathering where a dramatic confrontation had taken place, sending shockwaves through the assembled guests.

As the details of the scandalous affair continued to unfold in the article, Mary's heart sank further. It was evident that society's watchful eyes were fixed upon her, awaiting further revelations with bated breath.

Tom and Mary shared a silent understanding in that moment. Their futures were entwined in a way they could have never foreseen, and the path ahead was fraught with challenges. But they would face them together, as a married couple, determined to weather the storm that now threatened to define their lives.

Letters to Old Friends

Tom sat down at a small desk in their hotel room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light on the paper before him. He picked up his fountain pen and began to write a letter to Henry, his trusted friend and partner in their business venture.

Dear Henry,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to express my gratitude for your recent project update and the progress you've made on the stainless-steel process control limits. Your dedication and attention to detail have been invaluable in moving our work forward.

I am writing to request some further details regarding the project. Specifically, I would appreciate it if you could provide me with information on the times when measurements were taken, including temperature and pressure readings. These details will help us fine-tune our approach and ensure the accuracy of our data.

On a more personal note, I have undergone a significant change in my circumstances. I have recently left my position at Downton Abbey, which may come as a surprise. It was not what I had originally planned, but life often takes unexpected turns.

I am currently residing at a hotel in Leeds, as I am preparing to marry Lady Mary Crawley, the eldest daughter of my former employers, the Crawley family. Yes, I understand this revelation may come as a shock, and it certainly was not in my immediate plans. However, fate has a way of leading us down unexpected paths, and I have come to realise that this journey is one I am willing to embark on with Lady Mary.

Our wedding is scheduled for Wednesday, the 17th of this month, here in Leeds. It would mean a great deal to me if you could attend and share in this momentous occasion. Your presence would be a source of support and encouragement as we begin this new chapter in our lives.

I understand that this may be short notice, and I appreciate any effort you can make to be there. Please let me know your thoughts, and if you are able to attend, I will provide you with the necessary details.

Thank you once again for your contributions to our work. I look forward to your response and hope to see you soon.

Warm regards,

Tom Branson

*^*

Dear Bertie,

I hope this letter finds you well. It pains me to put these words to paper, for I must admit that you were right all along. I should have heeded your warning about the risks of becoming Lady Mary's tutor. In my eagerness to assist her in pursuing her dreams, I allowed my judgment to become clouded, and the consequences have been dire.

Lord Grantham discovered the unconventional nature of our relationship, and it led to Mary's banishment from the family home. The scandal has grown to unimaginable proportions, with a dreadful newspaper article detailing our situation. Although Mary's name is not explicitly mentioned, her reputation is surely tarnished beyond repair.

In a desperate attempt to salvage her honour, Mary and I have decided to marry. It is a step we take not out of romantic love, but out of necessity to protect her from further disgrace. We are to be wed at City Hall in a modest ceremony, and I have invited Henry and yourself to attend as witnesses.

Bertie, I want to express my deepest gratitude for your friendship and the wise counsel you have offered me over the years. I deeply regret not heeding your advice in this instance, and I can only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive my stubbornness.

I look forward to your response and hope that you will consider joining us for this solemn occasion. We could use a friend by our side during these trying times.

Yours sincerely,

Tom

The House

Tom had been diligently making all the necessary arrangements for their upcoming wedding, which was now scheduled for the following Wednesday at City Hall. He had also extended invitations to his two closest friends, Henry and Bertie, who would serve as witnesses. These two companions from his college years had been a steadfast presence in his life, and he was grateful to have them by his side on this momentous occasion.

With a reassuring tone, Tom updated Mary on the progress of their flat. The major construction work had been completed, leaving only the tasks of decoration and furnishing. He assured her that all the essential items to transform the house into a comfortable home were already in place, waiting for their arrival.

Mary felt nervous at the prospect of her new home. Of course, she realised that it wouldn’t compare to Downton in size or grandeur. But how small would it be? She also spent considerable time worrying about what domestic duties she would be expected to perform. Her future was shrouded in uncertainty. At least after the flat viewing she would know a part of her fate.  

On the day of the visit, Tom guided Mary to a charming Georgian-style house situated in Beeston, a suburb located south of Leeds. The house boasted a layout that included a ground floor, a first floor, a second floor, a third floor, as well as attics and a basement. Their new abode was to occupy the basement and ground floor flat. The flats were ingeniously arranged in a 'U-shape' configuration, with a central staircase leading to the upper levels. Each landing featured a door that granted access to one of the flats within the building.

As they ventured further into the house, Tom led Mary past the street door and into a spacious foyer adorned with a grand wooden staircase that served as a centrepiece. Beyond the staircase lay the front door to their flat. Additionally, another street door provided access to the basement below, through a convenient boot room.

The house held the promise of a fresh start, a place where they could begin their life together, away from the prying eyes and judgments of the world outside.

Tom guided Mary into the unfurnished drawing room, which immediately struck her with its spaciousness. The room bore an air of grandeur, and Mary couldn't help but envision how it would look once they had added their personal touches. A fireplace adorned one wall, promising warmth and cosiness in the coming winter months. The deep green walls provided an elegant backdrop, and the polished floorboards gleamed in the natural light that streamed in through the large bay window. Mary noted that there were no curtains, allowing an unobstructed view outside.

From the drawing room, they proceeded into the dining room through wooden double doors. This room bore a different colour scheme, painted in a rich maroon shade. The white ceilings and mouldings added a touch of sophistication to the space. It was evident that Tom had put thought into the aesthetic details of their new home.

Mary's curiosity was piqued when she noticed a green baize door in the dining room. She ventured closer, and Tom explained its purpose. "This door leads to a hidden staircase that goes down to the basement below," he said, revealing another layer of the house's design.

As they explored further, Mary couldn't help but notice that the house had been wired for electricity, a modern convenience she had grown accustomed to during her time at Downton. Tom confirmed that he had installed electricity throughout the house, including the bedrooms, ensuring they would have all the comforts of a modern home.

The dining room held a delightful surprise in the form of large French doors that led to a small terrace. Mary stepped outside and took in the fresh air. There was just enough space for two ironwork chairs and a small table, creating a charming spot for them to enjoy a cup of tea or a moment of respite. Stone steps led from the terrace to a paved yard, and from there, a vast garden stretched out before them. The garden featured a lush lawn and shrubbery along the edges, promising opportunities for relaxation and outdoor activities.

Mary, however, couldn't help but feel a pang of concern. She turned to Tom with a question that had been nagging at her. "Are these the only public rooms in the house?" The contrast between this new space and the grandeur of Downton was stark, and she was beginning to realise the adjustments that lay ahead in their life together. “Yes” Tom simply answered.

As Mary and Tom explored their new home, they entered a hallway from the dining room. This hallway was filled with possibilities, and the soft glow of natural light filtering through windows above two of the doors created an inviting ambiance. Tom gestured towards these two doors, explaining their purposes.

The first door led to a conveniently placed WC, a practical addition to the home. Next to it was another door that opened into the bathroom. Mary stepped inside and was greeted by a soothing sight. The bathroom was decorated in pale green, imparting a sense of tranquillity. However, what caught her attention was the wallpaper on one wall, depicting a lush forest scene.

Tom's cheeks turned slightly rosy as he shared a charming childhood memory. "You see, when I was small, my foster mother and I would spend hours looking at Illustrated Natural History books. I always wanted to visit a real rainforest." Mary couldn't help but smile at the image of a young Tom engrossed in such books, his curiosity about the world evident even then.

Continuing their tour, they moved to the other side of the hallway. Here, they discovered a spacious study painted in a soft grey hue. The room held the promise of quiet contemplation and focused work, a place where ideas could flourish.

The final door in the hallway opened into the spacious bedroom. As Mary stepped inside, she couldn't help but notice the pleasing shade of blue that enveloped the room. However, one thought began to nag at her. There was only one bedroom, and it became apparent that Tom had not anticipated the need for a second. If guests were to visit, he had envisioned setting up a bed in the study.

It dawned on Mary that she was expected to share a bedroom with her soon-to-be husband. She glanced around the room, her mind racing with thoughts. Breaking the silence, she tentatively suggested, "Perhaps we could have one wall with floral wallpaper to add a touch of elegance and warmth?"

Tom nodded in agreement, relief washing over his features as he realised Mary's willingness to make the space their own. "That's a splendid idea," he replied, his smile growing. "And Mr. Cartwright left a furniture catalogue downstairs. I've already ordered some essentials, including a double bed and wardrobes," he added with a slight blush.

As they stood in their new bedroom, amidst the blank canvas of blue walls, Mary and Tom could feel the weight of their new life together settling upon them. It was a moment of transition, and they knew that soon, this space would be transformed into a home where they would build their future.

Tom guided Mary downstairs to the lower floor, where they entered a well-appointed kitchen. It featured the modern convenience of both hot and cold-water taps, a practical washroom, and a gas stove. The room was furnished with a sturdy kitchen table, a bench, and two chairs neatly arranged along the wall. Large windows bathed the space in an abundance of natural light. Tom pointed out that the house was already equipped with gas, making it convenient to have gas stoves installed in all the flats.

Next to the kitchen, a corridor stretched ahead, with three doors leading off it. The first door opened into a practical boot room, the second into a workroom, and the third revealed a cozy bedroom. Tom explained his plans for these rooms.

"I intended to use the workroom for my projects with Henry," he mentioned, a note of excitement in his voice. Mary soon realised that he expected her to utilise the other study for her university studies. The question of her education lingered in her mind, and she couldn't help but ask, "Am I still going to university?"

Tom turned to her, his expression earnest and supportive. "Mary, you've worked tirelessly toward your goal, and I won't stand in your way of achieving it," he assured her, his words filling her with a warm sense of encouragement. It was evident that their goals aligned well, and Mary felt a surge of gratitude for their shared aspirations.

The last room Tom introduced Mary to was a spacious, airy chamber with yet another window. He suggested it could serve as the housekeeper or cook's room, spacious enough to accommodate a bed, armchair, and table. Mary asked if they were getting a housekeeper, and Tom ruefully explained that “though you are a talented and resourceful woman, you burn milk,” Mary grinned at Tom, at his words. He explained they would need someone to cook their meals and help with the house chores. This brought a smile to Mary's lips, as she was fully aware of her limitations in housekeeping tasks.

Returning to the kitchen, Tom and Mary pulled up chairs and began perusing sample books filled with wallpaper and curtain swatches. Mary eagerly shared her ideas about the furniture they would need for the public rooms, and Tom attentively took notes. In this moment, for the first time, despite the lack of space, Mary felt a genuine sense of excitement and anticipation about the future they were building together.

Old Friends

The day before the wedding was an opportunity for Mary to finally meet the two men who held such a significant place in Tom's life. As she waited in the hotel's drawing room, her thoughts were a whirlwind of curiosity and anticipation.

First to arrive was Mr. Henry Brearly, a man whose strong, working-class origins were evident in his robust build and penetrating gaze. He stood tall and proud, his dark hair adding to his commanding presence. Mary couldn't help but admire the resilience and determination that must have brought him from the steelworks of Sheffield to the refined surroundings of the hotel.

Henry's voice was warm as he greeted Mary, "Lady Mary, a pleasure to finally meet you." His accent, though different from the refined tones Mary was accustomed to, carried a certain charm. They engaged in a conversation that revealed the depth of Henry's passion about the stainless-steel project he and Tom were working on. Mary couldn't help but be impressed by his enthusiasm and dedication to their shared venture.

Soon after, Lieutenant Bertie Pelham made his entrance, contrasting sharply with Henry in both appearance and background. Dressed immaculately in his smart uniform, Bertie exuded an air of sophistication. It was surprising to learn that he was a cousin to the Marquess of Hexham, a connection that added a layer of complexity to his character.

Bertie was quick to explain his humble circumstances, emphasizing that he had "not a bean to my name." He hailed from a long line of younger sons and had chosen a path in the army to secure his own place in the world. His ambitions extended to taking over his father's role as the land agent for the Brancaster Estate, a prestigious position indeed.

Mary couldn't help but observe the stark contrast in the backgrounds of Tom, Henry, and Bertie. Tom had an uncanny ability to attract intelligent and remarkable individuals from diverse walks of life, a testament to his open-mindedness and magnetic personality.

As evening approached, the four of them, Tom, Henry, Bertie, and Mary, gathered in the hotel's drawing room, where plans for the upcoming wedding and celebrations were discussed. The meal at a local restaurant would take place after the momentous occasion that awaited them the following day, a wedding that was to take place at Leeds City Hall at 11 a.m.

In adherence to tradition, Tom would spend the night apart from his bride-to-be, maintaining the age-old superstition that the groom should not see the bride before the wedding day, sharing Bertie’s room. As they continued to chat and share stories, it became clear that the bonds of friendship and camaraderie among these men were as strong as the steel they envisioned in their shared project, and Mary felt a profound sense of gratitude for the unique path that had brought them all together.

Tom Explains

In the dimly lit room of the hotel, Tom and Bertie prepared for bed, the weight of the impending wedding day heavy on Tom's mind. Bertie, with a knowing look, couldn't help a reproachful glance as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head.

"I told you so," Bertie simply said.

Tom sighed, his shoulders sagging as he acknowledged the truth in Bertie's words. "I know, I know," he admitted, "You warned me about this in your letters. Something like this could happen. I just don't know how it escalated out of control so quickly. Mary and I weren't able to mitigate the circumstances."

Bertie, now fully dressed in his nightclothes, settled into his side of the room and propped himself up on an elbow. "What exactly happened?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Tom began to recount the series of events that had led to this moment. "Well," he started, "Mary would come to my cottage most days in the afternoon during my lunch break. We'd study, and only study, Bertie. You must believe that. It was to help her get ready for her entrance exams into Leeds University. I was even teaching her some practical life skills in preparation for her independent life in the Halls. There was a little hiccup, though."

Bertie leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Tell me more," he urged.

"So, it happened on a Wednesday," Tom continued. "Due to the guests at the house, my mid-day break was later that day, around three o'clock. As usual, Mary arranged to come to my cottage. It was September and colder than usual. We had a fire going. I was going over the basics of probabilities and statistics, you know how tricky that subject is."

Bertie nodded, urging Tom to stay on track with his narrative.

"Right," Tom said, "So, she came over. We had cocoa and sat in front of the fire with our book. Then, inexplicably, we fell asleep. We've never done anything like that before. We always maintained a professional relationship. I was aware that, when it came to education, I held power over Mary. You know how I detest men who take advantage of women."

Bertie understood that Tom had a personal connection to this subject due to his own birth story. Tom believed his mother had been taken advantage of by his wealthy father, unaware that his mother was, in fact, wealthier and an equal participant in their relationship. Bertie acknowledged Tom's feelings with a sympathetic nod.

"Next thing we knew," Tom continued, "Lord Grantham and half the dinner guests were in my tiny cottage. Lord Grantham was furious, roaring at us and even struck me in the face.” “No wonder,” Bertie said, “Tom, he found you with his daughter.” “I know, Bertie,” he told him. “I'm so angry with myself for letting this happen. Mary had such plans to better herself, to gain an education. It's quite unusual for a woman of her station to have such aspirations. I can't forgive myself if I ruin that."

Bertie, thoughtful and concerned, asked, "So, Mary still intends to go to university?"

Tom replied with determination, "I certainly intend to encourage it. She's worked so hard these past seven months, and I won't let it go to waste."

Bertie smiled, his expression softening. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied sincerely.

As they settled into their respective beds, Bertie couldn't resist probing a bit further. "Now that you're marrying this woman," he inquired, "how do you feel about that?"

Tom, his voice filled with a newfound sense of conviction, replied, "She's a beautiful, intelligent, accomplished woman. Any man would be happy to have her as a wife. Though I never thought she'd be my wife, I can find it in myself to make the best of it. I'll work every hour of the day to ensure her happiness."

Bertie, satisfied with Tom's response, nodded approvingly. The two men exchanged smiles, knowing that despite the unexpected turn of events, their friendship remained steadfast. With that, they settled into their beds, knowing they had a busy and momentous day ahead.

Wedding Day

Mary gazed at herself in the mirror, feeling a mixture of emotions as she adjusted the delicate lace collar of her blouse. Anna's thoughtfulness in sending some of Mary's finer clothes had been a reassuring touch, even in the midst of these unconventional circumstances. She couldn't help but think about how different this wedding was from what she had envisioned for herself.

Her blue wool skirt fell elegantly, and the blouse, with its lace trim and pearl buttons, added a touch of sophistication to her ensemble. Mary had fashioned her hair into a simple yet elegant chignon, securing it with tortoiseshell combs. As she took in her reflection, she felt a sense of determination. Despite the circumstances, she was making a choice to be with Tom, and that was something she could stand behind.

Tom's arrangement for a cab to take her to City Hall was met with a mix of nervousness and sadness. The realisation that her sisters or even a trusted maid were not there with her weighed heavily on her mind. When the cab driver asked if she was alright, she managed a smile through her tears and replied, "Just nervous."

In her heart, though, there was a tinge of sorrow. This wasn't the grand wedding she had imagined for herself, and Tom wasn't even there with her as she had once imagined. It was a far cry from the life she had once envisioned, but circumstances had brought her to this point.

City Hall's imposing Greystone facade loomed ahead as the cab pulled up. She went through the lobby, her footsteps echoing in the silence of the grand building, and approached the reception desk, where she announced her scheduled wedding. The secretary's warm smile offered a small comfort as she directed Mary to a modest wood-panelled room. Twelve chairs were neatly arranged, and a dais awaited the couple. Bertie and Henry, steadfast friends, were already present, waiting for her.

Tom stood there, holding a bouquet of flowers, which he offered her as she approached, was a thoughtful gesture that touched Mary deeply. It was a simple touch, but it meant the world to her on this unconventional wedding day.

The celebrant arrived, and in the presence of Bertie and Henry, Mary and Tom exchanged their vows. The words held weight, and the commitment they were making was undeniable. After the ceremony, they shared a celebratory meal.

*

As the plates were cleared away after their celebratory meal, Tom, Bertie, and Henry sat back in their chairs, their faces flushed with the shared laughter and camaraderie of old friends. Mary leaned in, intrigued by the mischievous glint in their eyes.

"Alright, lads," she said, a playful smile gracing her lips. "What's the story you've been teasing me about from your university days?"

Tom, Bertie, and Henry exchanged knowing glances before Bertie, the storyteller of the group, leaned forward. "Well, you see, Mary," he began, "it all started with a rather audacious dare."

"A dare?" Mary raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

Henry nodded, chuckling. "Yes, quite the dare indeed. You see, we had this eccentric professor, Professor Abernathy, who was known for his peculiar tests of bravery."

Tom chimed in, "One evening, he challenged us to a midnight expedition to the university's old, supposedly haunted library. He claimed he had seen a ghostly apparition there and dared us to spend an hour inside, alone, in complete darkness."

Mary's eyes widened with interest. "And did you accept the dare?"

Bertie grinned, "Of course, we did! We were young and foolish then, and the prospect of proving ourselves braver than our peers was irresistible."

Henry picked up the tale, "So, there we were, the three of us, each in a separate corner of that eerie library, surrounded by ancient tomes and shadowy figures carved into the bookshelves. The clock struck midnight, and the lights were extinguished."

Tom added with a wink, "And let me tell you, Mary, the old library creaked and moaned like a ship at sea. We were terrified, but none of us wanted to admit it."

Bertie continued, "We lasted all of fifteen minutes before we bolted out of there, tripping over each other in our haste to escape. Professor Abernathy, with a twinkle in his eye, congratulated us on our 'excellent performance,' though I'm sure he had a good laugh at our expense."

Mary couldn't help but laugh along with them, envisioning the younger versions of her husband and his friends, caught between youthful bravado and genuine fear.

"Ah, those were the days," Tom sighed with a fond smile. "University life was quite the adventure."

Bertie raised his glass in a toast. "To youth, foolish dares, and lifelong friendships."

They clinked their glasses together, the laughter and warmth of the moment filling the air, as they celebrated not only Tom and Mary's wedding but also cherishing the time with their friends before Bertie and Henry had to depart for their own responsibilities in business and the army.

*

As Mary and Tom settled into their hotel room, the reality of their marriage began to sink in. It was a situation neither of them had anticipated, and there was a mixture of emotions in the air. Tom broke the silence, sensing the need for an open and honest conversation.

"Mary," he began, "I think we should have a serious discussion. We are married now, but I don't think either of us expected to be married so early in life, let alone to each other."

Mary nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the uncertainty that hung in the air. "You're right, Tom. This is all so sudden."

"Though we have known each other for many months and have built a strong friendship," Tom continued, "I think it might be better for us to wait a little bit longer before we... consummate this marriage."

Mary felt a rush of relief mixed with a tinge of disappointment. She had expected the question of intimacy to arise but was glad that Tom was willing to tread cautiously. "I agree," she replied, her voice soft. "But not too long," she added with a playful smile, her cheeks flushing.

Tom blushed as well, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of tenderness and desire. "Indeed, not too long," he agreed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Mary shifted the conversation, recognizing the practicalities they needed to address. "We also have to think about getting me into the University of Leeds and resolving the issues with the stainless-steel process that you and Henry have been working on."

Tom nodded, his gaze becoming thoughtful. "In six months’, or maybe less, time, Henry and I will truly be ready to start the business," he explained. "Henry is using his contacts in the steel industry to find a steel producer who would take on our new steel alloy. I will begin canvassing manufacturers of lorries to see if I can interest them in the new stainless-steel exhausts that I am proposing."

Mary appreciated the direction of their conversation. It gave them a clear sense of purpose and a shared goal to work towards. "So, we have a plan," she affirmed.

Tom smiled warmly, feeling a sense of unity with Mary as they discussed their shared future. "Yes, Mary, we have a plan," he echoed.

With their conversation concluded for the night, they both prepared for bed, their minds filled with thoughts of the journey ahead. As they retired to their separate beds, they knew that the path they were on was uncertain but filled with possibilities.

With the lights out, Mary thought about the day and their life ahead. The prospect of moving to their new home, with the promise of a double bed, added an element of anticipation to their future. Mary blushed at the thought, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness about this aspect of married life. Smiling to herself she fell asleep.

Letters Home

Dear Lady Louise,

I trust this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. It has been far too long since our last exchange, and I apologize for the delay. Life has taken a rather unexpected and dramatic turn.

I am delighted to share with you that I have entered into a new phase of my life. Recently, I became united in matrimony with Lady Mary Crawley, the eldest daughter of my former employers, Lord and Lady Grantham. While the circumstances surrounding our marriage might raise eyebrows, we both remain resolute in our commitment to make the best of this union.

Our journey, which began with me as simply her tutor, has taken an unforeseen twist, leading us to this new chapter together. Lady Mary and I have known each other for quite some time, and our relationship has evolved in ways we could never have imagined when we first started to study together.

I do hope that you can understand and appreciate the complexities of our situation, which I am happy to discuss further in our next correspondence. I value the friendship we have cultivated through our letters and look forward to your thoughts and well-wishes.

Please accept my warmest regards, and I eagerly await the day when we can share stories and catch up on all that has transpired.

Yours sincerely,

Tom Branson

My Dearest Mrs. Green,

I hope this letter finds you well, and I trust you are in good health. I am writing to you with a heavy heart, burdened by the weight of the choices I have made. There is no easy way to say this, so I will be as honest as I can be.

I deeply regret to inform you of a series of events that have transpired recently, events that I am sure will disappoint and dismay you. As you may recall, I have been serving as Lady Mary Crawley's tutor for some time now. Our relationship, which started with noble intentions, took a path that neither of us could have foreseen.

Due to our secret association and a set of unfortunate circumstances, Lady Mary's reputation has suffered greatly. I must take full responsibility for my actions that led to this dire situation. I cannot express how ashamed I am of the choices I made, choices that have had such a devastating impact on an innocent young woman.

In an attempt to salvage Lady Mary's reputation and protect her future, we have taken a step that may come as a surprise to you. We are now married. It is a decision that was not made lightly, but one we felt was necessary given the circumstances. Please understand that this was not a matter of choice but a response to the damage that had already been done.

I am aware of the disappointment you must be feeling in me right now, and I can only say that I share in that disappointment. I cannot bring myself to write to Mr. Green, as I am equally ashamed of my actions in his eyes. I hope that, in time, you might find it in your heart to forgive me and understand the complexities of the situation we found ourselves in.

I will always cherish the lessons and values you instilled in me during my time with your family. I only wish I had adhered to them more steadfastly in this instance. Please know that my love and respect for you remain undiminished, and I pray that you can find it within you to forgive your wayward foster son.

With all my love and deepest regret,

Tom

My Dearest Tom,

Your letter brought both tears and solace to my heart. While I cannot deny the deep disappointment I initially felt upon learning of the situation, my love for you has always been unwavering, and it remains so. You are, and forever will be, my beloved son.

I want you to understand that your actions, though regrettable, do not define you entirely. We all make mistakes, and it is our ability to learn and grow from them that truly matters. In your heartfelt words and sincere remorse, I see a young man who is still guided by the values and principles instilled in him during his formative years.

I am grateful that you have found a way to protect Lady Mary's reputation and offer her a future of hope and dignity. She is now a part of our family, and I look forward to welcoming her with open arms. I hope to meet her soon and offer her the same love and support that you have known throughout your life.

As for Mr. Green, do not assume his heart is filled with anger or resentment. Yes, he may be disappointed, as any father would be when faced with the foibles of a beloved child. However, his love for you remains steadfast, and he, too, will continue to support you in his own way. Time has a way of healing wounds and mending bonds, and I have no doubt that, with time, your relationship will find its equilibrium once more.

You are still the son I am proud to call mine, and your past actions, though regrettable, do not diminish the love and pride I feel for you. Please take care of yourself and your new bride, and remember that you will always have a loving mother by your side.

With all my love and unending support,

Mother

Laundry Debacle

The unfamiliar weight of the wedding ring on Mary's finger served as a constant reminder of the unique marriage she had entered with Tom. It was a stark contrast to the aristocratic unions she had observed in her parents' lives, and Mary often found herself twisting the ring absently as she contemplated her new role.

Tom's promise of a housekeeper had brought some relief, but Mary was keenly aware of the other domestic duties that awaited her. They had been living in a hotel room for two weeks now, and their laundry had started to pile up. The task of handling outerwear was beyond her scope, but she felt confident in her ability to manage undergarments.

After Tom left to oversee the delivery of some of their furniture to the flat, Mary ventured out to the shops in search of soap and starch. Soap was self-explanatory, but the purpose of the starch remained somewhat mysterious. Nevertheless, she knew it was an essential part of laundry, thanks to Anna's frequent discussions about it.

Back at the hotel room, Mary filled the bath with hot water, carefully washed their undergarments, and blushed furiously as she handled her husband's most intimate garments. After a thorough wash and rinse, Mary turned her attention to the bag of starch. She opened it, peered inside, and found it resembled flour. Believing she was meant to use the entire bag, she added the contents to a basin of clean hot water, stirring the powder until it dissolved. Then, she added the washed clothes to soak.

With a sense of accomplishment, Mary wondered how long to leave the laundry to soak and decided on 20 minutes. There were wooden washstands in the bedroom, where clothes could be warmed in the morning. Mary added fuel to the fire and set up the stands, ringing out the clothes as best she could and hanging them to dry in front of the fire.

Her hands red from the labour, Mary thoroughly washed them and applied cream before sitting back, pleased with her domestic achievement. She eagerly awaited Tom's return.

When Tom arrived and the hotel room filled with the scent of freshly laundered clothes, Mary couldn't contain her excitement. "Look, Tom, I've washed our things," she announced with a beaming smile.

Tom looked surprised but thanked her, though he assured her she didn't need to wash his clothes. It was only when Mary went to check on the clothes for dryness that she discovered her well-intentioned efforts had resulted in stiff garments resembling cardboard. Dejectedly, she admitted her mistake.

Tom turned away, hiding a smile, not wanting to hurt her feelings. "How much did you use?" he asked gently. Mary confessed, "The whole bag."

Tom chuckled softly. "I think you're only meant to use a few teaspoons," he explained. "Besides, I was thinking of just using a weekly laundry service. That's what I did in university."

Mary considered this and suggested, "Maybe I'll write to Anna and ask her."

Tom joined in her amusement. "It will probably give her a good laugh," he remarked. Together, they shared a light-hearted moment, finding humour in Mary's laundry misadventure as they continued to navigate the intricacies of their new life together.

Meeting the Neighbours

Mary stood in the partly furnished drawing room on a damp October afternoon, overseeing the placement of the newly purchased furniture. Tom had introduced her to the exhilarating world of estate sales. While the actual viewing of the contents of the house or estate often carried a sense of melancholy, Mary found the bidding during the auctions thrilling. Tom, her trusty partner, accompanied her, and he had a knack for reining in her competitive nature when she was on the verge of exceeding their budget.

Despite the bittersweet circumstances of estate sales, Mary had managed to secure a full Wedgwood Dinner Set from their Fairyland Lustre collection, which delighted her. She had also acquired two comfortable plush wine-red wingback chairs that would frame the fireplace beautifully. The damask curtains, which she admired now, had been put up by Mr. Cartwright's workmen. Mary had chosen a pattern that reflected nature, with large, stylised leaves in various shades of green and hints of gold thread that would shimmer when caught by the light.

Her reverie was interrupted by a hearty knock at the door followed by a cheerful "Cooee!" Startled, Mary turned to find a short woman in her thirties standing in her doorway. Her hair was neatly done, and her cheeks were rosy. "Hello, Dearie. I'm your upstairs neighbour, Brenda Murphy," she introduced herself with a warm smile. Taken aback by the informal greeting, Mary replied a little stiffly, "I'm Lady Mary Branson."

Mrs. Murphy's eyes widened at Mary's title. "I've seen you and Mr. Branson come and go over the last couple of weeks, and I thought I would take this opportunity to introduce myself," she explained.

Mary smiled politely, unsure of the proper protocol in this situation. Her upbringing had taught her to be a gracious hostess, regardless of the circumstances. "I'm afraid I can't offer you any tea; we haven't received any supplies yet," Mary explained apologetically.

"No matter, dear," Mrs. Murphy replied. "I've just taken some sweet biscuits from the oven and put the kettle on for tea. If you'd like to come up?"

Mary agreed, and she followed Mrs. Murphy to the third floor. While Mary's sitting room and dining room were on the ground floor, Mrs. Murphy had a kitchen that opened up into the dining room. The stairs led up to the attic instead of down to a basement. The rooms were painted in a very pale yellow. "I know the fashion is to have dark walls, but I just can't abide it; it always makes me feel like the walls are closing in," she shared with a laugh.

Mary was directed to sit at the kitchen table while Mrs. Murphy bustled about making the tea. On the table, Mary noticed a notebook and various letter-writing materials spread out. Her curiosity piqued, she inquired about this setup.

Mrs. Murphy explained that it was her at-home business. She wrote letters for individuals who, for one reason or another, were unable to do so themselves. Mary found this endeavour intriguing.

Noticing some peculiar marks in the notebook, Mary asked, "What are these marks?"

"Oh, that's shorthand," Mrs. Murphy replied. "It's quite useful when taking dictation; it speeds things up a bit," she explained. "Mmmh! That might be useful for me. I'm planning to go to university next year," Mary revealed.

"Gosh! University! I've never met a woman who's been to university," Mrs. Murphy exclaimed.

As Mary and Mrs. Murphy continued to enjoy their biscuits and tea, they conversed about where Mary could learn shorthand. Mrs. Murphy suggested Mary obtain an instructional book from the library.

As Mary and Mrs. Murphy enjoyed their tea and biscuits, their conversation flowed naturally. Mrs. Murphy, with a warm smile, began to share a bit about her own childhood.

"Well, dearie, I was the middle child in my family," she began. "I had two older brothers and two younger ones, so if I wanted to play with them, I often had to join in their games." She chuckled at the memories.

"We were all quite fond of Jules Verne novels," she continued. "My father had a collection of them, and we would spend hours reading about adventures beneath the sea, trips to the moon, and voyages to the centre of the Earth. Those books sparked our imaginations."

Mary was intrigued and leaned in, "Did you play act the stories as well?"

Mrs. Murphy's eyes twinkled with nostalgia. "Oh, we most certainly did! We'd take turns being Captain Nemo or Phileas Fogg, and we'd explore imaginary worlds right in our own backyard. It was a wonderful way to bond with my brothers and create lasting memories."

Mary smiled warmly at the image Mrs. Murphy painted. "Your childhood sounds absolutely enchanting. It must have been so much fun."

Mrs. Murphy returned the smile. "And what about you, Lady Mary? Did you have any favourite childhood games or adventures?"

Mary thought back to her own early years with fondness. "I have two younger sisters, Edith and Sybil. We used to play all sorts of games together. We had a large dollhouse, and we'd create elaborate stories for our dolls. Sometimes we'd even put on little plays for our parents."

She paused for a moment, lost in the memories. "We also loved playing dress-up and pretending to be princesses or explorers. And, of course, there were the tea parties with our stuffed animals. It was a delightful time."

Mrs. Murphy nodded in understanding. "It sounds like you had your fair share of adventures as well. Childhood is such a magical time, isn't it?"

Mary agreed, her eyes glinting with nostalgia. "Indeed, it is. Those moments spent with family, filled with imagination and laughter, are some of the most precious memories."

As they continued to chat, Mary and Mrs. Murphy found common ground in their shared appreciation for the joys of childhood and the bonds created through play and imagination.

Their conversation flowed easily, and by the time they parted ways, Mary felt like she had made a new friend in her neighbour.

Arguments

As the day of the move drew nearer, Mary and Tom found themselves in an unexpected argument. It was a rare occurrence in their relationship, but it highlighted the clash of their different backgrounds and financial expectations.

They were in their hotel room, packing the last of their belongings. Mary had been excited about moving into their new home, but her enthusiasm had waned when she realised the limitations of their budget. She couldn't understand why she couldn't spend more freely, given that Tom had considerable income.

"Tom, I don't understand why we have to live like this," Mary began, frustration evident in her voice.

Tom, folding a shirt into their suitcase, looked up. "What do you mean, Mary?"

"I mean this frugal living, this strict budgeting," Mary replied, her brows furrowing. "You have money coming into this home, but you act like we're paupers."

Tom sighed, setting the shirt down. He knew this was a conversation they needed to have sooner or later. "Mary, it's not about acting like paupers. It's about being responsible. All the income we have right now is going into the business with Henry. We're reinvesting everything to make it successful."

Mary's frustration grew. "But we could still live comfortably while doing that. We don't have to be so... so tight-fisted with every penny."

Tom walked over to Mary, taking her hands in his. "I understand that this is an adjustment for you, Mary. But I need you to see the bigger picture. The business needs time to grow, and for the next few years, most of our earnings will go back into it. We have to be patient."

Mary pulled her hands away, turning to look out the window. "I just don't see why I can't have the things I'm used to. A ladies' maid, for instance. You have the money."

Tom knew this was going to be difficult. "Mary, I've explained this to you before. We have to be conservative with our spending. That money you're talking about is from my earnings as a tutor. It's not part of our business budget."

Mary turned to face him, her eyes flashing with frustration. "I thought we were building a life together, Tom. But it feels like I'm supposed to adapt to your way of living, while you get to keep your business and your money."

Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Mary, that's not fair. I never expected this situation either. I'm adjusting just as much as you are. But we have to be realistic and patient. The business is our future."

The argument left both of them emotionally drained. They were beginning to realise that their marriage required not only love and understanding but also compromise and adaptation to their different worlds and financial realities. As they continued to prepare for the move, they knew they had more challenges to face as a married couple.

Moving Day

The day had come for Mary to move into her new home, the place where she would begin a life shared with her husband, including the bed they would now occupy together. The nervous flutter in her chest was undeniable. She had never lain with a man before, and this new phase of her life filled her with anticipation and anxiety.

Mary had known Tom for many months, starting as an employer-chauffeur relationship and evolving into a genuine friendship. The intimacy they had developed over the past weeks, sharing a twin room in the hotel, had deepened their connection. Yet, even with this closeness, she had never seen her husband without some clothing on.

She couldn't deny the attraction she felt for him, an attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for a long time, tracing back to the days when she was a great Lady and he was her chauffeur. As nervous as she was, she found herself looking forward to fully sharing her life with Tom, embracing all that it entailed.

Shaking her head to free herself from these thoughts, Mary gathered the last of her belongings in the hotel room. She gave the room one more thorough scan to ensure nothing was left behind. Satisfied, she closed the door and made her way downstairs to meet her husband, ready to embark on this new chapter of her life.

*

As the night enveloped their new home, Mary and Tom found themselves in the intimacy of their bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm, comforting light across the room. It was their first night together as husband and wife in their new home, and the air was filled with both anticipation and a touch of nervousness.

Mary stood before the mirror, adjusting her nightgown, her reflection revealing a faint blush on her cheeks. Tom, equally aware of the significance of this night, sat on the edge of their shared bed, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Tom sensed her hesitation and gently took her hand. "Mary," he began, his voice soft and reassuring, "I want you to know that there's no pressure tonight. We can take all the time we need."

Mary smiled, appreciating his understanding. "Thank you, Tom," she replied, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of gratitude and affection. “But I want to be a true wife to you and you to be a true husband to me,” Mary said honestly, pulling back the covers and climbing into their bed, giving her husband what she hoped were come hither eyes. It must have worked as Tom smiled at her and followed her into the bed.

They exchanged words, whispered promises of a future together, and shared dreams of what lay ahead. Their connection, once forged through friendship and mutual respect, had now deepened into something more. It was a moment of tenderness and understanding, where words weren't always necessary.

In the privacy of their bedroom, they began this new journey as a married couple, a journey filled with both the joys and challenges that life had to offer. With a final exchange of loving glances, they extinguished the lamp, surrendering to the embrace of the night, eager to face their shared future together.

Chapter Text

An Important Decision

Tom and Mary lay together in the intimate embrace of their bed, the soft sheets a comforting backdrop to their naked bodies. Mary's fingers danced gently over Tom's chest, her touch light and affectionate. She had always found herself intrigued by Tom's sparse chest hair, a contrast to the stories she had heard about the hairiness of some men.

Her voice was quiet and tinged with a touch of nervousness as she spoke, her fingers continuing their gentle exploration. "I've been thinking, Tom, that the activities we've been enjoying could lead to babies," Mary admitted, her gaze meeting her husband's.

Tom turned his head to look at Mary, his gaze meeting hers as he absorbed her words. "Go on," he encouraged her, his voice steady.

Mary continued, her words cautious yet earnest, "I think we should find a way to slow down the process a bit. It might make things difficult if I'm going to university."

Tom, his expression thoughtful, responded, "Do you know how to prevent it?"

Mary shook her head slightly, her uncertainty showing. "No, I thought you might know."

Tom considered her words for a moment before offering a straightforward answer, "The only surefire way to avoid having babies is by abstaining from the activity that leads to it."

Mary wasn't entirely pleased with that solution, as she had been enjoying her intimate moments with her husband. "Well, didn't you ever think about this before you met me?" she inquired, gently probing the subject.

Tom blushed slightly, looking somewhat sheepish. "I never engaged in such activities before I met you," he confessed.

Mary was genuinely surprised by his admission. "You mean you've never had a lover before me?"

Tom nodded. "I started university when I was just sixteen, a few years younger than my classmates. All the women there were too focused on their studies to bother with a scrawny fellow like me. Besides, given the circumstances of my birth, I never wanted to put a woman in a position like my mother was in."

Mary listened, absorbing his words, and felt a rush of affection for her husband. She realised the depth of his commitment to her and his thoughtful consideration of these matters.

"I spoke with Mrs. Finlay the other day," Mary explained, shifting the conversation towards a solution. "She mentioned that her husband is a doctor who specialises in women's health, babies, and such. You should talk to him about it."

Tom let out a sigh, recognizing the wisdom in Mary's suggestion. He also understood that in a world biased against women, it would be more acceptable for a husband to inquire about preventing pregnancy.

"I'll call in at lunchtime and seek the doctor's advice," Tom agreed, his voice conveying his willingness to address the issue.

With the matter settled for now, Mary snuggled closer to Tom, finding comfort in his arms. She allowed thoughts of future babies to fill her mind as she drifted off to sleep, envisioning little ones with round, smiley faces and Tom's eyes. While they hoped for a family one day, they both understood the importance of timing and their current aspirations.

*

Tom felt a mixture of awkwardness and determination as he called in to Dr. Finlay's flat during his lunch break. He had never expected to find himself in such a conversation with a medical professional, but he understood the importance of addressing this matter. He was met with a warm, reassuring smile when Mrs Finlay answered the door.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Finlay, might I have a word with your husband?” Tom asked.

“Yes, please come in, follow me,” she leads Tom to a door and knocks gently, “Gerard, Mr Branson is here to see you,” “Come in,” Dr Finlay calls out.

"Dr. Finlay, it's Tom Branson," he began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of nervousness. "I was hoping I could speak with you about a rather delicate matter."

Dr. Finlay, a man in his sixties with white bushy hair and beard, listened attentively. "Of course, Mr. Branson. What's on your mind?"

Tom took a deep breath and ventured, "My wife and I didn’t know who to go to. It's about contraception, Doctor. My wife and I, we're not ready for children just yet, given our current circumstances. I was wondering if you could offer some advice or guidance on how to... well, delay or prevent pregnancy."

Dr. Finlay, ever the professional, nodded understandingly. "I see, Mr. Branson. It's important for couples to have control over their family planning. There are a few methods available. The most common one is the barrier method, which involves using a physical barrier to prevent sperm from reaching the egg."

Tom listened intently, grateful for Dr. Finlay's straightforward explanation.

"Barrier methods typically include devices like diaphragms or cervical caps," Dr. Finlay continued. "However, these should be fitted by a gynaecologist to ensure they're the right size and placed correctly. If Mrs. Branson is interested in this method, I can certainly provide a referral to a trusted gynaecologist."

Tom appreciated the doctor's offer of assistance. "Thank you, Doctor. That would be most helpful. We just want to make sure we're taking the right steps for our situation."

Dr. Finlay reassured him, "It's always wise to seek professional advice when it comes to matters of contraception. I'll arrange for the referral, and your wife can discuss her options with the specialist. Is there anything else you'd like to know or any concerns you have?"

Tom felt a sense of relief that he was addressing this matter, even if it was a bit uncomfortable. "No, Doctor, that covers it for now. Thank you for your help and guidance. We appreciate it."

Dr. Finlay offered a reassuring smile through the phone. "You're welcome, Mr. Branson. Don't hesitate to reach out if you have any more questions or if there's anything else I can assist you with. Take care, and best wishes to you and your wife."

With the conversation concluded, Tom returned to his flat, feeling a sense of responsibility and relief for taking this important step in ensuring their family planning aligned with their current aspirations and circumstances.

Letter from Anna

My Dearest Lady Mary,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I must say, your absence has caused quite a stir at Downton Abbey, and your family, including your Grandmother, Mr. Matthew Crawley, and Mrs. Isobel Crawley, have been expressing their concern for your well-being. They all wish to know where you are and how you're faring.

First and foremost, let me offer my heartfelt congratulations on your recent marriage to Mr. Branson. It warms my heart to know that you have found companionship and happiness. I have had the pleasure of getting to know Mr. Branson during his time at Downton, and I can confirm that he is a kind and intelligent man. I have no doubt that the two of you will create a wonderful life together.

Now, onto the matter of laundry starch. I appreciate your interest in learning about household duties, and I'm more than happy to help. To use laundry starch effectively, follow these steps:

1. Begin by dissolving a small amount of starch in cold water. You can find starch at local general stores or specialty shops.
2. Gradually add hot water to the mixture, stirring constantly until you achieve a smooth consistency.
3. Pour the starch mixture into a larger container filled with enough water to submerge your clothing items.
4. Immerse the clothes into the starch solution, making sure they are fully saturated.
5. Gently squeeze out any excess liquid from the clothes.
6. Hang the clothes on a line or lay them flat to dry, allowing the starch to set.

Once the clothes are dry, you'll notice that they have a crisp and stiff texture. To soften them, you can use a cool iron while they are slightly damp. This will give your garments that desired polished finish.

I let your family know that you wrote me and that you were now married. Your family know that I've written to you, I will certainly convey any messages you want to your family. They are genuinely concerned about your well-being and would be relieved to hear from you. If you're comfortable, I can inform them of your whereabouts as well.

Additionally, I encourage you to reach out to your neighbours and acquaintances in your new community. They can provide valuable insights and advice on various home duties and local practices. Don't hesitate to ask for help or guidance—it's a wonderful way to build connections and create a sense of belonging in your new environment.

Please know that you are missed dearly at Downton Abbey, and we all eagerly await any news from you. Your presence has left a void that cannot be filled, and we all hope for your safe return soon.

With warm regards and best wishes,

Anna Bates

Shopping

Mary's visit to Madame Marie's Elite Apparel was a blend of anticipation and mild disappointment. As she entered the shop, the welcoming shop girl made her feel at ease. Mary had grown accustomed to such treatment back at Downton Abbey, and it was a familiar comfort.

However, her excitement waned as she perused the elegant displays. The prices of most items were beyond her weekly allowance. Still, Mary's composure didn't waver; she was skilled at concealing her emotions.

Her keen eye caught a discreet sign advertising a selection of hats at a reduced price. With only one hat to her name, this opportunity intrigued her. The shop girl, attentive to her needs, assisted in selecting a hat that caught Mary's fancy. It was priced at £2 3s 12d, a sum Mary could just about manage. Her purchase brought her a sense of satisfaction, even though she secretly longed for more.

As she settled into the cab for the journey back home, clutching her new hat, Mary couldn't help but contemplate her allowance. £2 10s hardly seemed sufficient for her needs in this new phase of life. It was a matter she knew she would have to discuss with Tom. With that thought in mind, she gazed out the cab's window, watching the cityscape of Leeds pass by, her mind set on the conversations that lay ahead.

Mary stepped out of the cab, her new hat carefully secured in a small box, held close to her chest. She had spent most of her allowance on this single item, but she couldn't deny the delight she felt wearing a new hat.

As she entered their flat, she found Tom engrossed in some paperwork, likely related to his steel project. Mary cleared her throat to get his attention.

Tom looked up, his eyes lighting up when he saw Mary. "You're back!" he exclaimed, rising from his chair and walking over to her.

Mary smiled, feeling a little self-conscious about her purchase. "Yes, and I have something to show you." She carefully opened the box to reveal the hat, a stylish creation with delicate lace and ribbons. "It was on sale, and I thought it would be a good addition to my wardrobe."

Tom's eyes widened in appreciation as he examined the hat. "It's beautiful, Mary," he said sincerely. "You have excellent taste."

Mary's heart swelled with pride at his compliment. "Thank you, Tom. I'm glad you like it."

After admiring the hat for a moment, Tom gently asked, "Did you find anything else you liked?"

Mary's smile faltered slightly as she shook her head. "No, Tom, I'm afraid not. The prices at Madame Marie's are quite high, and my allowance…" She let her words trail off, hoping he would understand her unspoken request.

“What do you mean?” Tom asked, “Well the hat cost most of the allowance you gave me,” Mary said, “and the cab was quite expensive too”. Tom's voice rose as he scolded Mary for her extravagant purchase. "Mary, that money was meant to purchase all your necessities, cosmetics, underwear, nightwear, etc., not just one bloody hat!" he exclaimed, his frustration evident.

"Why did you take a cab and not the tram?" Tom's anger was building, his brows furrowing in frustration. Mary, equally irritated, shot back, "You can just increase my budget. You have plenty of money!"

"Mary, it's not just your pin money," Tom retorted, his tone edged with exasperation. "I have to pay for a housekeeper, fuel for the fire, utilities, food, my own expenditures, which is a lot smaller than what I allowed for you, by the way."

Mary, clutching her new hat, stormed off to their bedroom, her voice sharp. "You're my husband, you're meant to provide your wife with shelter and food!" “I’m only your husband because of your harebrained scheme” Tom shouted back,

Tom, realising he had gone too far, quickly regretted his words and tried to backtrack. "I didn't mean it, Mary," he admitted, his voice softer and laced with remorse.

But Mary, seething with anger, slammed the bedroom door shut and locked it, cutting off further conversation.

As Mary lay on the bed, her anger and frustration turned into tears. She was annoyed with Tom for chastising her over a hat she had been so proud of. The hat now seemed like a symbol of their growing tension.

Outside, Tom, realising he needed to make amends, began tossing small pebbles at the windowpane, creating a soft tinkling sound. Mary reluctantly opened the window, and Tom's voice reached her ears, filled with apology and concern. "I'm sorry, Mary. Please open the door, and I can explain the budget to you again."

Mary let out an exasperated cry and grabbed the nearest thing to her, which happened to be Tom's good boots. One by one, she hurled them out of the window. Tom managed to dodge them, but their poor neighbour, Mr. Murphy, who had just arrived, was met with an unexpected boot to the chest.

"Sorry, Mr. Murphy," Mary called down, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'm just practicing my aim."

Mr. Murphy, looking bewildered and a bit alarmed, quickly made his way indoors. Mary slammed the window shut and retreated to her bed, her anger still simmering.

An hour later Mary heard tapping on the door, “Mary, I have some tea and biscuits for you. Can I come in?” Tom tentatively asks Mary.

"Alright," Mary replied, her voice still carrying a trace of irritation.

Tom carefully turned the doorknob and entered the bedroom. Mary was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the new hat in her hands. Her eyes were red from crying, and she looked vulnerable in that moment.

He approached her slowly, taking a seat beside her. "I'm truly sorry, Mary. I should have explained the budget better to you, and I shouldn't have lost my temper. We're in this together, and I want us to be happy."

Mary sighed, her anger dissipating further. She handed him the hat, saying, "It was on sale, Tom, and I've never had a budget before and after what has happened recently, I just wanted something nice for myself."

Tom took the hat and gently placed it back in its box. "I understand, Mary. And I want you to have nice things. We'll work this out together. I'll explain the budget to you properly, and we can find ways to balance our expenses. But I need you to trust me too."

Mary nodded, her eyes filling with remorse as well. "I do trust you, Tom. It's just... this is all so new to me."

Tom reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I know, my love. It's new to both of us. But we have each other, and together, we can face anything."

They sat together in silence for a moment, the tension slowly dissipating. Mary wiped away a lingering tear, and Tom leaned over to kiss her forehead gently. "I care for you, Mary," he whispered.

"I care for you too, Tom," she replied, leaning into his embrace.

In that small bedroom in their modest flat, they began to navigate the complexities of their new life together, learning to communicate, compromise, and, most importantly, to forgive each other's mistakes.

Public Transport

Tom and Mary's journey to Leeds City Library marked the beginning of a new chapter in their life together. They took the train, and Tom, ever the practical one, had convinced Mary to purchase third-class tickets for the short journey.

Mary raised an eyebrow, a hint of resistance in her voice. "Third class, Tom?"

He chuckled, understanding her concern. "It's just a short ride, Mary, and it will save us some money. Besides, it's an experience, riding with the locals."

As they settled into their seats, which weren't particularly comfortable but sufficient for their brief ride, Mary couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with nostalgia. She was about to embark on her academic journey again, a pursuit she had put on hold for a long time.

The train ride was relatively short, less than 30 minutes, and Tom had advised them to travel between 9 am and 5 pm to avoid crowded trains. As they sat together, discussing their plans for the day, they were unexpectedly joined by a friendly middle-aged woman. Tom, being his amiable self, told her that he and his wife were headed to the library in Leeds.

The woman, brimming with local pride, chimed in enthusiastically. "Aye, it's a grand big building, it is," she assured them. Mary smiled at the woman's friendly demeanour, appreciating the warmth of the people in this new city they now called home.

Upon reaching the bustling city of Leeds, they caught a tram to the Headrow, where the library was located. The tram was packed, and there were no available seats. Tom showed Mary the railing she could hold onto for balance. Then, with a mischievous grin, he pulled her close, hugging her gently. Mary blushed, both pleased and slightly thrilled by his daring gesture, enjoying the intimacy of being held so close in public.

Finally, they arrived at the grand Leeds City Library, a classical-style building with a prominent presence in the city. The exterior boasted intricate architectural details, and the large windows allowed natural light to flood the interior.

Mary beamed at Tom, eager to dive back into her studies. This library, with its vast collection of knowledge, was the perfect place to reignite her academic ambitions.

The day was bright and crisp as Mary and Tom arrived at Leeds City Library. Tom, being the gentleman he was, held the door open for Mary, allowing her to enter first.

As they stepped inside, Mary's eyes widened in wonder. The interior of the library was as grand as its exterior. High ceilings adorned with intricate moulding gave the space an air of elegance. Large windows allowed streams of natural light to filter in, casting a warm glow on the polished wooden floors.

Mary couldn't contain her excitement. "Tom, it's magnificent," she whispered, her eyes darting around the room. "I can't believe I have access to all this knowledge."

Tom grinned, clearly pleased with her reaction. "It's quite impressive, isn't it? And you're right; this library holds a wealth of information. Now, let's find a quiet spot for you to study."

They made their way deeper into the library, passing rows upon rows of bookshelves filled with volumes on every imaginable subject. Mary couldn't help but run her fingers along the spines of some of the books, feeling a sense of reverence for the knowledge contained within them.

Finally, they found a reading room with large wooden tables and comfortable chairs. Tom pulled out a chair for Mary and gestured for her to sit. "Here you go, Mary. This should be a perfect spot for your studies."

Mary settled into the chair, her notebook and textbooks spread out before her. She looked up at Tom with gratitude. "Thank you for bringing me here, Tom. I couldn't ask for a better place to prepare for my exams."

Tom leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "It's my pleasure, Mary. I'll be right here if you need anything. Now, get to work, and I'll make sure you have all the peace and quiet you need."

With that, Mary delved into her studies, feeling both grateful for Tom's support and excited about the academic journey that lay ahead of her.

Shopping Together

Tom had managed to calm the waters after their argument, and now, in the soft glow of evening, he sat with Mary at the small dining table, their budget spread out before them. Mary was still a bit embarrassed about the earlier outburst, but Tom's gentle expression had put her at ease.

"Alright, Mary, let's go through this again," Tom began, pointing to the figures on a sheet of paper. "You have a weekly allowance of £2 10s for your personal purchases. That includes clothes, cosmetics, and any other things you might need."

Mary nodded, her fingers tracing the numbers. "But it feels like such a small amount, Tom. I've always had much more to spend."

"I understand, Mary," Tom replied, his voice soothing. "But we're in a different situation now, and we have to make the most of what we have. We can't afford to overspend."

Mary sighed, reluctantly agreeing. "I suppose you're right. So, where can I shop for clothes in Leeds that won't break the bank?"

Tom smiled, relieved that she was open to discussion. "Well, there are second-hand stores where you can find some good bargains. I know it might not sound glamorous, but they often have high-quality items at a fraction of the price."

Mary's eyes widened in horror. "Second-hand stores? Tom, I've never shopped at such places in my life!"

Tom chuckled softly. "I know it's a change, but trust me, there are some hidden gems in those shops. And if it eases your mind, we can also check out Lewis's department store. It's not as grand as Harrods in London, but it's a reputable place with a variety of options."

Mary perked up at the mention of Lewis's. It was a name she recognized, and the idea of shopping at a familiar department store was more appealing. "Lewis's, you say? That might be a good idea. And, well, if you're with me, it won't be so bad."

Tom smiled warmly. "I'd be happy to go shopping with you, Mary. We'll make the most of our budget and find things that suit you."

Mary nodded, feeling grateful for Tom's understanding and willingness to compromise. "Thank you, Tom. I appreciate your patience. Let's go to Lewis's then, and perhaps I can get used to the idea of these second-hand stores over time."

Tom reached across the table to take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll make a great team, Mary. And I promise you, we'll find a way to balance our new life together, with all its challenges and surprises."

As they continued to discuss their plans and budget, Mary felt a sense of unity and determination growing between them. They were embarking on this journey together, and, with Tom by her side, Mary was confident that they could face whatever came their way.

Tom Branson stood tall in the heart of Leeds, a city that had become his new home. By his side, Lady Mary Branson, his wife, walked with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. It was their first visit to Lewis's, a department store that symbolised a new chapter in their lives. The grand exterior seemed to cast a warm invitation, and Tom led Mary through the doors with a reassuring smile.

As they stepped inside, the vastness of Lewis's interior seemed to unfold before them. Mary's eyes widened at the sight of chandeliers that cascaded delicate light upon marble floors. She could hardly believe that she, who had grown up amidst the grandeur of Downton Abbey, now found herself in such a different setting.

Tom's hand gently brushed against Mary's arm. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

Mary nodded, offering him a faint smile. "It's just… overwhelming, I suppose. I've never seen anything quite like this."

Tom's eyes softened as he understood the weight of the moment. "Well, let's start slowly, shall we? We have a budget, after all." He smirked playfully, and Mary couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes, the dreaded budget," she replied with a touch of sarcasm. It was an entirely new concept for her, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and exhilaration. She clutched her purse a little tighter, its weight a reminder of her limited funds.

They began their exploration, Tom guiding Mary through aisles filled with garments that ranged from extravagant to practical. Mary's gaze darted from one display to another, her eyes drawn to the exquisite fabrics and delicate details that adorned the dresses. Her fingers itched to reach out and feel the fabrics, to embrace the luxury she had always known.

Tom's voice broke through her thoughts. "Mary, I know it's different from what you're used to, but we have a budget of £2 today. We need to find something that suits both your style and our means."

Mary bit her lip, her mind warring between her desires and the reality of their situation. She nodded, determination in her eyes. "You're right, Tom. Let's find something that fits within our budget."

They moved through the store, Mary carefully examining each rack. As she reached out to touch a dress, she hesitated, her fingers brushing against the fabric. It was a beautiful creation, the kind she would have once worn without a second thought.

Tom watched her closely, understanding the internal struggle she faced. "You know," he began, "sometimes it's not about the price tag, but how a piece of clothing makes you feel. You're still the Lady Mary I married, and no dress can change that."

Mary met his gaze, her eyes softening at his words. She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. "You're right, as always."

With renewed resolve, they continued their search. Finally, Mary's eyes lit up as she spotted a simple yet elegant dress. Its lines were clean, its fabric graceful, and it seemed to carry a certain charm that resonated with her.

"This one," she said, her voice steady. "It's perfect."

Tom nodded approvingly. "I think it suits you beautifully."

As Mary held the dress in her hands, she realised that her definition of elegance was shifting. It was no longer about extravagance, but about finding a piece that resonated with her, a piece that was a reflection of her new life with Tom.

Together, they approached the counter, and as Mary handed over her money, she felt a sense of pride. The purchase wasn't just a dress; it was a symbol of their journey, of their newfound bond, and of the love that had defied societal norms.

As they walked out of Lewis's, hand in hand, Mary knew that their path might be unconventional, but it was a path she had chosen willingly, and one that held a promise of a future built on their own terms.

Good News

Preparations for Mary's upcoming examinations were in full swing. She and Tom had been married for four months, and for the most part, they had lived together harmoniously. Any disagreements they had usually revolved around finances, which was the most significant change for Mary. She hadn't realised just how different life was for the middle class, where Tom came from, compared to her aristocratic upbringing. The fact that her family's wealth had allowed her to buy a single dress for £5, which was roughly Tom's weekly wage, was a stark revelation. It was a sobering thought.

What made this adjustment more challenging was the homesickness she felt. She even found herself missing Edith in her own way. The knowledge that all of Tom's additional income, approximately £1000, was being invested in the business with Henry, added to her frustration.

Mary had always wanted to be an independent woman with an education and a profession, but she had never truly envisioned what it would look like. Renting her own flat, providing for her own needs, and being responsible for everything from clothing to food was a reality she was beginning to grasp. She was learning to appreciate how fortunate she was to have someone like Tom supporting her in her educational pursuits.

On this particular day, Mary was sitting in the study, her books spread out in front of her, deeply engrossed in her studies when she heard the front door open. She peered out of the room to see Tom removing his coat.

"Hello, love," he greeted her. "Do you have time for some tea? I have some news."

"I will be out in five minutes," she replied before quickly tidying herself up. She washed the ink from her fingers and checked her appearance in the mirror. Then, with a composed manner, she joined her husband in the sitting room.

Tom, seated comfortably in a wine-red wingback chair, poured Mary a cup of tea just as she liked it, with a splash of milk. They exchanged a knowing smile, remembering a past conversation about their tea preferences.

"Well, Mary," Tom began, "I had a letter from the solicitor today. You remember I mentioned that I receive a stipend from my natural family?"

Mary nodded, recalling how this had been a point of contention early in their marriage.

"They informed me that, as a married man, my stipend is increasing to £600 a year." He watched her reaction carefully.

Mary's excitement was barely contained, and she crossed her fingers beneath the table, though she tried to keep her composure. "That's wonderful news," she replied calmly.

Tom continued, "The extra money was never part of my budget. So, I thought we could hire a day maid, not a ladies' maid, mind you, but a general maid to help you around the house with tasks like keeping your clothes in order."

Mary's eyes sparkled with delight at the prospect of having a helping hand around the house. With a housekeeper who handled the cooking, heavy duty cleaning and the laundry service, her household duties mainly revolved around organization and maintaining the upstairs rooms. Tom often laid the fires before heading to work and ensured the wood and coal scuttles were full, lightening her physical load.

"Thank you, Tom," Mary said with a smile. "That would be a tremendous help."

Tom continued, saying there would be enough leftover to increase her pin money and possibly make some of the larger purchases she had wanted. Mary couldn't contain her excitement and flung herself into her husband's arms, hugging him tightly.

Tom, even though he felt a hint of worry about the expenses, swallowed his concerns and embraced her joy. He knew how much these things meant to her and was willing to support her in every way he could. As they shared a loving moment and Mary mentioned the beautiful winter coat she had seen, Tom couldn't help but tease her about the matching hat.

Mary laughed and kissed him, feeling incredibly fortunate to have a husband who cared for her happiness and was willing to make adjustments for her. As they kissed, Mary couldn't help but think about sharing this wonderful news with Anna, but in that moment, being close to Tom was all that mattered.

Money Matters

Mary's entrance exams were rapidly approaching, and the date and location were firmly set. Nervousness and relief seemed to be her constant companions as the day drew near. Tom and Henry's business venture was still in its early stages, and Tom had decided to give up his tutoring to focus all his energy on their new endeavour.

Amidst these significant changes, Mary and Tom had ongoing discussions about Mary's inheritance. Her determination to finance her education independently remained unwavering. To facilitate this, Tom took a step to assist her. He opened a joint bank account in his name that would serve both of them. One morning, they made a trip to the bank together to complete the necessary paperwork.

At the bank, Mary was handed several financial tools: a bank book, a cheque book, and a lodgement book. The weight of managing her own finances weighed on her, a responsibility she had never shouldered before. She listened attentively as the bank clerk explained the intricacies of the account and how she could facilitate the transfer of her inheritance.

With the knowledge she had gained, Mary returned home that afternoon and immediately composed a letter to her solicitor. In it, she requested that her inheritance be transferred directly into the account she shared with her husband, providing all the necessary account details. The act of taking this step towards financial independence filled her with a sense of excitement and accomplishment, bringing one of her cherished goals closer to realisation.

When Tom arrived home from work, he dedicated his evening to guiding Mary through the intricacies of her bank books. He patiently explained how to update the small book with her financial totals and how to write cheques. In those moments, Mary felt like a true adult, actively participating in the management of her life and her future.

Entrance Exams

The morning sun cast a weak glow across the dining room as Mary sat at the table, her fingers lightly tapping against the edge of her teacup. The scent of toast and marmalade wafted through the air, a comforting aroma that usually brought a sense of ease. Today, however, her nerves seemed to hold sway.

Maggie, their day maid, moved about the room with quiet efficiency, placing a plate of perfectly toasted bread and a jar of marmalade before Mary. The clinking of china and the soft rustle of her apron provided a soothing backdrop to the morning's tension. Mary offered a small smile of gratitude, her eyes briefly meeting Maggie's before turning her attention back to her plate.

Tom, ever the supportive husband, entered the room with a reassuring smile. "Good morning, Mary," he greeted, his voice a gentle balm to her nerves.

"Good morning, Tom," she replied, her tone a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

He pulled out the chair next to her and took a seat, his presence providing a reassuring anchor. "Nervous, my love?"

Mary managed a half-hearted chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on her plate. "Terribly. I know I've studied, and I've prepared, but there's always that nagging doubt."

Tom reached across the table, his hand gently covering hers. "You're more than capable, Mary. You've worked hard for this opportunity, and I have every confidence in you."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she finally looked up at him. "Thank you. Your confidence means the world to me."

Maggie returned with a pot of tea, pouring the steaming liquid into Mary's cup. "Would you like anything else, my lady?"

"No, thank you, Maggie. This is perfect," Mary replied, her fingers curling around the warm cup as if seeking its comfort.

As Maggie left the room, Tom's fingers brushed against Mary's, their touch a silent show of support. "We'll walk to the examination hall together," he said softly. "You won't be alone."

Mary's heart warmed at his words, and she reached for a piece of toast, her appetite slowly returning. "I appreciate that, Tom."

"You've come so far, Mary," he continued, his gaze unwavering. "From Downton to the city, from all the challenges you've faced, this is just one more step on your path."

She took a bite of toast, savouring the familiar taste. "I suppose you're right."

"And remember," he added with a playful glint in his eyes, "I'll be waiting right here for you when you're done."

Mary's lips curved into a more genuine smile. "I'll hold you to that."

Finishing her breakfast, Mary set down her teacup and stood, her nerves slowly giving way to determination. Tom rose from his seat as well, and as he walked over to her, she found herself enveloped in his arms. Their embrace was a source of comfort, a reminder of the strength they drew from each other.

Tom leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a tender kiss. "You've got this, Mary. Go show them what you're made of."

With a deep breath, Mary nodded, her resolve firm. "I will."

Hand in hand, they left the dining room, ready to face the day ahead. The sun continued to shine, casting a hopeful light on their path. As they made their way together to the examination hall, Mary couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose, bolstered by the love and support of her husband by her side.

The Wedding Gift

Tom received a very belated wedding gift from his friend Peter Pelham, and with a simple note attached that read, "I think this will be of more use to you than me, old chap," he unwrapped the package to reveal the 'Kama Sutra,' translated by Sir Richard Francis Burton. He showed it to Mary, a mix of curiosity and amusement dancing in his eyes.

Mary, always eager for knowledge, was fascinated by the book. It seemed to be a comprehensive guide to all aspects of love and relationships, as well as practical advice for running a household. As they perused its contents together, her eyebrows shot up when she came across a lengthy list of arts that an accomplished woman was meant to know – a total of 64, ranging from the proper way to make a bed to composing poetry, carpentry, and even chemistry. She found it intriguing that the author suggested that a woman well-versed in these arts could support herself even without a husband.

Tom and Mary exchanged puzzled glances. They wondered aloud whether both men and women were meant to study all these arts or if they were divided by gender. Tom, ever the light-hearted one, decided to take it upon himself to start diligently practicing the first art mentioned in the book – singing. With a twinkle in his eye, he burst into song, much to Mary's amusement.

As they continued to flip through the pages, they came across illustrations that made them both blush, and they shared a knowing glance, silently agreeing to explore that particular section of the book in the privacy of their bedroom.

Mary was discovering a profound happiness in her life with Tom. With each passing day, her affection for him grew stronger, perhaps even evolving into something deeper. She couldn't help but share her newfound joy with Anna in a letter, gushing about her loving husband, the intriguing book, and the sense of freedom she now felt. However, in her happiness, she failed to consider that her references might not be as innocuous as she thought, especially for someone like Anna, who lacked the context of their marital intimacy, or the potential scandal associated with the book's more explicit sections.

The Argument

Mary sat in their living room, a mixture of shame, regret, and sadness on her face. Tom's expression was stern and his tone edged with anger as he paced back and forth. The atmosphere was tense, charged with emotions neither of them had anticipated just a few hours ago, when Mary opened Anna’s letter and was dismayed at the contents.

Mary wearily shared the letter with Tom, “what did you write Mary?” Tom said with alarm. “What does Anna mean by ‘I cannot help but express my dismay at your decision to share such intimate details with me, and subsequently, the rest of the household. ‘ ?” Tom asked.

“I wrote to Anna about the book, ‘The Kama Sutra’,” Mary confessed, looking pale.

"Mary, I cannot believe you did this," Tom said, his voice tight with frustration.

Mary looked down at her hands, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't think it would turn into such a mess, Tom. I didn’t mention the contents of the book. I was just sharing my happiness with Anna, someone I consider a friend."

"Sharing your happiness?" Tom stopped and turned to her, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Mary, by sharing the title of the book you implied intimate details about us, Anna or Carson would have no knowledge of the contents of the book and people like your father only remember the scandalous sections and consider it pornography. The fact we read the book together was private between us. Do you realise what that means? How embarrassing it is for all of us?"

Mary was now horrified thinking her entire family and former staff now thought she and Tom practiced some sort of sexual deviancy. Mary bit her lip, her eyes welling up with tears. "I know, Tom. I didn't think it through, and I'm so sorry for causing this. I didn't mean to humiliate you or expose our private life."

Tom ran a frustrated hand through his hair, exhaling heavily. "It's not just about us, Mary. It's about Mr. Carson, about Anna, about your family. What do you think they're going to say about me now that they know these things?"

Mary's voice quivered as she spoke. "I never meant for it to come to this, Tom. I didn't realise the impact it would have."

"That's the problem, Mary. You didn't think. You acted without considering the consequences, and now we're all dealing with the fallout." Tom's anger was palpable, his disappointment evident in his eyes.

Mary wiped away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "You're right, Tom. I was thoughtless. I should have been more considerate of your feelings and everyone else's."

Tom's gaze softened a little, but his frustration was still evident. "You owe Anna an apology. You owe Mr. Carson an apology. And you owe me an apology too."

Mary nodded, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Tom. I never meant to hurt you or anyone else. I'll apologise to them, and I'll make things right."

Tom sighed, his anger subsiding a bit. He walked over to Mary and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. "I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone intentionally, Mary. But you have to understand the consequences of your actions. We're married now, and what we do, how we present ourselves, it reflects on both of us."

Mary looked into his eyes, her own filled with remorse. "I do understand, Tom. I just got carried away with sharing my new experiences, and I didn't think about how it would appear to anyone else."

Tom gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get through this, Mary. We'll apologise to those we've hurt and embarrassed, and we'll learn from this mistake. But please, in the future, think before you act. Consider how your actions might impact not just us, but the people around us too."

Mary nodded, her tears still lingering. "I promise, Tom. I've learned my lesson. I'll be more careful and considerate."

Tom leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. "I know you will, Mary. Just remember that we're a team now, and we have to be mindful of each other and those we care about."

Mary leaned into his touch, feeling a mixture of comfort and relief. She had made a mistake, but she was determined to make amends and ensure that such thoughtlessness never happened again.

Making Amends

Working at the bookshop in Leeds marked a significant change in Mary's daily routine. She had decided to take this step to, stave off boredom, earn money independently, especially to save up for an apology gift for Carson and Anna, something she felt deeply compelled to do. She knew it wouldn't be easy, especially since she didn’t use her title "Lady Mary Branson" in her workplace. Here, she was just Mrs. Branson, a conscious choice she had made to secure the job.

Each morning, she donned a plain dress and a simple apron, her usual attire now replaced by these work clothes. Although this transition was challenging for Mary, she was determined to make amends, by personal sacrifice, she could have easily used her savings, from the back account, but Mary felt this would cheapen the apology. She was greeted by the aroma of books as she entered the shop, a comforting scent that reminded her of the importance of her mission.

Tom had been proud of her decision, praising her for taking the initiative to earn her own money. This newfound independence brought with it a sense of accomplishment that she hadn't felt before. Tom even suggested that the money Mary didn’t use could be lodged in the bank account, for a rainy day.

One of the unexpected benefits of her job was the opportunity to meet new people. Among her colleagues, Mary found a kindred spirit in Miss Fleur Flowers, a young woman who exuded warmth and enthusiasm. The two quickly became friends, and Mary was enchanted by Fleur's curly brown hair, a stark contrast to her own sleek and polished appearance.

Fleur had recently completed her first year at the University of Leeds, studying Library Sciences. As they sat together during their lunch breaks, Fleur shared her experiences of being a woman in a male-dominated academic field. Mary, in turn, confided in Fleur about her aspirations to attend the university and that she had taken the entrance exams. Fleur was eager to provide Mary with her practical experience of the entrance and acceptance processes, which Mary was grateful for.

Their conversations over cups of tea were filled with laughter and camaraderie. Fleur's optimism was infectious, and Mary found solace in her company. It was a small but significant step toward building a support network in her new life as Mrs. Branson, one that she hoped would eventually include Carson and Anna once she had earned their forgiveness.

The Gifts

Mary had set out on a mission to find the perfect gifts for Mr. Carson and Anna, two individuals who had played significant roles in her life, albeit in different capacities. As she strolled through the charming streets of Leeds, her eyes fixed on the antique bookstore's display window. There, gleaming in the soft light, was the collector's edition of "The Butler's Guide to Running the Home and Other Graces" by Stanley Ager. The book called to her, and Mary knew it would be the ideal present for Mr. Carson.

Stanley Ager, a former butler himself, had penned a masterpiece that would surely resonate with Mr. Carson's dedication to his role as the butler at Downton Abbey. This choice was deeply thoughtful, recognising Mr. Carson's passion for his profession and his commitment to upholding its traditions.

However, Mary also wanted to offer a personal gift, something Mr. Carson could use outside of his duties. Her eyes were drawn to a pair of exquisite soft leather gloves in a nearby shop. Tom had hands larger than hers, and with his help, they determined that Mr. Carson's hands were even bigger than Tom's. Leather gloves had the advantage of being somewhat stretchy and would adjust to fit. Therefore, Mary chose a pair that were two sizes larger than her husband's hands, ensuring they would be comfortable to wear. The luxurious leather and elegant design spoke to Mary's desire to give Mr. Carson something he could enjoy personally, and she didn't mind the 17 shillings and 3 pence she spent on this thoughtful gift.

For Anna, Mary sought the advice of her friend Fleur. During their lunch breaks, the two friends strolled through the bustling streets of Leeds, peering into shop windows and brainstorming gift ideas. Mary shared that Anna was a head housemaid, withholding the fact that Anna had once served her. Fleur asked insightful questions, considering Anna's uniform and the practicality of any gift she might receive.

Mary explained Anna's uniform requirements, and Fleur astutely pointed out that certain accessories like rings, bracelets, or brooches might not be suitable for Anna's work attire. They discussed options, ensuring that the gift would be something Anna could openly appreciate.

After much contemplation, Mary settled on a hatpin. She envisioned Anna wearing it with one of her black hats, imagining how the gold and garnet of the hatpin would stand out against the dark backdrop. With two pounds saved from her wages, Mary and Fleur embarked on their shopping excursion. Fleur raised an eyebrow at the amount Mary was willing to spend, but Mary simply explained that these were apology gifts, each imbued with her sincere regret.

In the end, Mary found a stunning gold hatpin adorned with garnets, a choice that she believed would enhance Anna's appearance and bring her joy. The next day, Mary carefully wrapped her gifts, each accompanied by heartfelt apology letters. During her lunch break, she visited the post office, sending her tokens of goodwill on their way. With a light heart, she hoped that Mr. Carson and Anna would accept her apologies and appreciate the sentiment behind the gifts.

Conversations and Confidences

As Mary and Fleur strolled through the lively streets of Leeds, their conversation took an unexpectedly personal turn. Mary felt a growing trust and connection with Fleur, and she decided it was time to share her secret. She confided in Fleur, her voice soft and vulnerable, "Fleur, there's something I haven't told you. I'm Lady Mary Branson."

Fleur blinked in surprise, her eyes widening with shock. She had known Mary as Mrs. Branson and had never suspected her true identity. "Lady Mary Branson? But… why do you go by Mrs. Branson at work?" Fleur asked, her curiosity piqued.

Mary sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. "My family disowned me when I married the family's chauffeur, Tom. They considered it a scandal and a disgrace. I didn't think it would be appropriate for an actual Lady to work in a shop, so I used Mrs. Branson as a way to secure a job." She glanced at Fleur, her eyes filled with a mixture of regret and determination. "I wanted to build a life with Tom, even if it meant temporarily leaving my title behind."

Fleur absorbed this revelation, her thoughts racing. She had grown up in a family of professionals, her father a solicitor, and her mother his former secretary. They had expectations of her marrying someone in a similar profession one day. The contrast between her life and Mary's was stark. She couldn't fathom the challenges and sacrifices Mary and her husband had endured to be together.

With a delicate tone, Fleur ventured further, "Is that why you work, Mary? To be independent, away from your family's influence?"

Mary shook her head ruefully, grateful for Fleur's understanding. "No. Tom inherited some money, and we live in a flat he owns. But he's always preferred practical work to office jobs. In fact, he's about to start a business with his friend Henry. They've developed a new steel alloy." “It takes up a considerable amount of time and even I can’t study all day,” Mary told her with a smile. “I like the idea of having my own money, not being totally reliant on my husband and … I was lonely,” she admitted shyly.

Fleur looked at Mary with compassion and took Mary’s arm, offering silent support. “I miss my sisters,” Mary continued. “I understand Mary, I missed my brother when he first went to university,” Fleur said. Changing the subject, Fleur's curiosity was also piqued. "Gosh! Your husband’s idea for a business sounds innovative."

Mary's eyes sparkled with pride as she spoke of her husband. "It is. Tom has a brilliant mind and a talent for innovation. He believes that this new steel alloy could revolutionise several industries, starting with automobiles."

Fleur was genuinely impressed by Mary and Tom's journey. Their love and determination in the face of adversity were inspiring. She felt a newfound respect for her friend and the life she had built with Tom, who had chosen love and happiness over societal expectations.

The Perils of Pauline

Fleur's excitement was contagious as she eagerly anticipated seeing the new film, "Perils of Pauline," starring the renowned actress, Pearl White. She had read about the daring stunts and thrilling adventures depicted in the movie, and it had piqued her curiosity. With Mary's agreeable company, they set out for a delightful evening of entertainment.

As they made their way to the Picture House near the train station on that wintry Thursday evening, the streets were already cloaked in darkness. The glow of gas lamps illuminated their path, casting warm, flickering light on the cobblestone streets. The chill in the air was countered by their anticipation of the cinematic adventure that awaited them.

Upon arrival at the Picture House, they met Fleur's friend, Clair Mulberry, whom she had known from their university days. Fleur introduced Clair to Mary, and the three women decided to grab a quick bite to eat before the film's start. Sausage and chips from a nearby chipper seemed like the perfect choice as they chatted animatedly, sharing their eagerness for the upcoming movie.

Inside the Picture House, they entered a world of wonder. The interior was adorned with elaborate decorations, plush red velvet seats, and an ornate ceiling, creating an atmosphere of grandeur. As they found their seats, Mary couldn't help but marvel at the opulence of the theatre, which seemed a world away from their daily lives.

The anticipation in the air was palpable as the lights dimmed, and the flickering beam of the projector illuminated the large screen. The audience hushed in anticipation, and then, "Perils of Pauline" came to life. The daring stunts and escapades of Pearl White's character left the women on the edge of their seats. They gasped at each perilous moment, marvelled at the creativity of the stunts, and occasionally exchanged whispers about their favourite scenes.

After the film concluded, the lights came up, and the women left the theatre with excited chatter. They agreed that the experience had been fantastic and decided to make it a regular outing if time allowed. As Mary said her goodbyes to Fleur and Clair, she felt a renewed sense of camaraderie and the joy of shared experiences.

When Mary returned home to Beeston, she couldn't wait to tell Tom all about their evening out. She described the daring stunts, the thrilling adventures, and the delightful company of her friends. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and as they settled in for the night, she and Tom found themselves transported, if only for a moment, into the world of "Perils of Pauline" and the magic of cinema in 1914.

Downton Interlude

The servants' hall at Downton Abbey was enveloped in the warmth of the crackling fire, a sanctuary from the cold night outside. Anna sat with a new letter from Lady Mary in her hands, the anticipation of its contents filling the room. Daisy, always eager for any news from Lady Mary, pleaded, "Oh Anna, please wait to read the letter till tea so I can hear what she says."

Anna, always gracious, agreed, knowing that sharing Lady Mary's letters had become a tradition and a source of excitement for the household. She carefully folded the letter and set it aside, awaiting the moment when they could all gather to hear its contents.

Thomas and O'Brien, masters of pretence, acted disinterested, but their ears perked up at the prospect of the latest news from any of the family upstairs. They liked to maintain an air of indifference but couldn't resist the lure of eavesdropping on the lives of the Crawley’s.

Mrs. Patmore and Mrs. Hughes, on the other hand, openly enjoyed these letters. Mrs. Patmore, the masterful cook, was particularly intrigued by Lady Mary's culinary escapades, especially her report of successfully making a steak and kidney pie. Mrs. Hughes, the voice of reason and pragmatism, had a newfound appreciation for Mrs. Branson, which she quietly admitted to herself but would never voice to Mr. Carson.

Mr. Carson, the ever-dutiful butler, couldn't help but find Lady Mary's adventures in the working-class world rather scandalous. His more traditional sensibilities often clashed with the changing times.

With everyone finally gathered, Mr. Carson's formality set the tone for the reading. "Well, we are all here now, Anna, you may begin," he declared.

Anna began to read aloud, her voice carrying the tales of Lady Mary's newfound friendships and her adventures in Leeds. Lady Mary's neighbour, Mrs. Finlay, had taken it upon herself to teach Lady Mary how to knit, which, in the eyes of the Downton servants, was a delightful sign of neighbourly camaraderie.

"Her ladyship seems to be making quite the effort to be friendly with her neighbours," Mrs. Hughes remarked with a warm smile.

Anna continued, revealing that Lady Mary had befriended a coworker named Fleur Flowers. The mention of their trip to the picture house to see 'The Perils of Pauline' elicited gasps of excitement from the younger maids and boot boys, who had heard of the thrilling film serial. Anna smiled to herself, knowing that now Lady Mary had indorsed the film, it was more likely that Mr Carson would let the younger staff go to the picture house themselves.

Daisy, in particular, was enchanted by the idea. "Oh, I would love to see 'The Perils of Pauline.' Pearl White is just the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," she dreamily confessed.

"You would," Miss O'Brien sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Anna couldn't help but smile at Daisy's enthusiasm, and she continued to read. Lady Mary had indulged in a "sausage 'n' chips" meal from a local chipper near the train station during their outing to Leeds.

Mrs. Patmore was astounded. "She never!" she exclaimed, marvelling at the idea of Lady Mary eating chips with her fingers.

Miss O'Brien, always ready with a snide comment, couldn't resist, saying, "Her ladyship won't like the sound of that, most unladylike."

Mr. Carson, bristling at the idea of such a departure from tradition, merely "hurrumphed," his disapproval palpable.

Thomas, with a mischievous grin, decided to stoke the fires of controversy. "Well, I think it's lovely that Lady Mary is making friends with her workmates and having some fun," he declared, knowing full well that this sentiment would rile Mr. Carson.

The Downton servants couldn't help but marvel at the transformation of Lady Mary since her marriage to Mr. Branson. She had become more relatable, more modern, and more like one of them, and they cherished the glimpses into her evolving world.

*

The blue sitting room at Downton was the setting for a meeting between Lady Violet Crawley, Lady Cora Crawley, and Mrs Isobel Crawley. They had gathered to discuss the upcoming hospital board meeting, an occasion where tensions often ran high.

Carson, the ever-attentive butler, had guided Lady Violet into the room, her presence commanding respect and deference. In her experienced wisdom, Lady Violet knew that understanding Isobel's concerns before the meeting was beneficial. She preferred not to be blindsided by her cousin's passionate arguments during the formal session.

Upon entering, they found Lady Cora and Cousin Isobel already seated, their expressions serious and focused. William, the young footman, was diligently preparing a tea service, his youthful energy contrasting with the gravity of their discussions.

Lady Violet settled into her chair, a paragon of aristocratic poise. She wasted no time in inquiring about Lady Mary, always keen on obtaining unfiltered information from the staff.

"Any news on Lady Mary, William?" she inquired with curiosity. William, unaware of the family's intricacies, eagerly shared what he knew. "Oh yes, my Lady, Lady Mary went to the picture house with work friends," he began, unaware of the raised eyebrow Lady Cora couldn't suppress at the mention of her daughter working. "She saw 'The Perils of Pauline,' she said it was terribly exciting. She said we should go if we get the opportunity," William added, his enthusiasm palpable.

Lady Violet, out of touch with such modern diversions, expressed her perplexity. "What sort of entertainment is that?" she inquired, leaving Isobel to provide an explanation. Isobel, well-versed in the interests of the common people, enlightened them. "I believe it is a serial, where each film, young Pauline is in some sort of danger and requires rescuing."

Lady Cora, concerned about Mary's activities, probed further. "You said she went with friends?" she asked, prompting William to continue his revelations while serving tea.

"Yes, a Miss Flowers and a Miss Mulberry," William confirmed. "They also had sausage and chips for their supper," he added. Lady Violet found herself baffled by the notion. "What sort of restaurant serves 'sausage and chips'?" she questioned with a hint of disdain. Isobel explained the concept, "It was probably a chipper; they serve you the food in newspaper, and you eat it in the streets."

Lady Violet was momentarily struck speechless by the image of her granddaughter eating in the streets. However, she soon regained her voice, questioning the footman further. "Anything else, William?" she inquired. William readily obliged, sharing more of Lady Mary's activities. "Oh, her neighbour is teaching her to knit," he stated. Cora's interest piqued at this new revelation, and she couldn't help but ask, "Did she mention why?"

Cora's heart weighed heavily with the thought of Mary potentially being pregnant. Ever since the shocking letter she had received over a month ago, she had known that Mary and Branson were engaging in activities that could lead to pregnancy. Cora couldn't bear the idea of not being there for her daughter during such a significant moment in her life.

"She didn't say, my Lady," William replied, his insights serving as a window into Mary's changing world. "I think she is just making friends with her neighbours. She often mentions Mrs. Murphy too," he added before being dismissed by Lady Cora, who then joined Lady Violet and Cousin Isobel in addressing the matters at hand—their wrangling over the local hospital that Downton supported.

Chapter Text

New Business

In the spring of 1914, a new venture was born as Henry and Tom united their efforts to establish a stainless-steel business in Leeds. They had patented their new steel alloy ‘Stainless Steel’. Their collaboration involved joining forces with an existing steel mill owned by a Mr Barlow, who saw the potential of this new steel alloy, a decision that held promising potential. Tom used his savings to buy a 16% equity in the mill, a risk he was willing to take due to his belief in their new alloy. The world was changing, innovation was on the rise, and these two ambitious individuals were determined to carve their mark in the evolving industrial landscape.

Tom's longtime benefactor and friend, Lady Louise, also believed in their vision and invested in their venture. With this support, they embarked on their journey, taking cautious steps into the world of steel alloy production.

The production of stainless steel was relatively new, and the market for it was not yet fully established. As such, they decided to dedicate just a portion of the mill's production—around 20%—to crafting stainless steel. This was a prudent approach, ensuring they could gauge the demand and response before fully committing to the new venture.

Tom, known for his forward-thinking and inventive mindset, introduced a revolutionary method of process control. This innovation would prove to be the linchpin of their success. By implementing Branson's process control techniques, they achieved impressive results. Henry and Branson's collaboration had a tangible impact on the mill's operations and output.

Their efforts bore fruit, as the quality of the steel produced exhibited a remarkable improvement of 15%. This increase in quality corresponded with a simultaneous boost in production yield, demonstrating that their venture was not only about innovation but also about practicality and profitability.

The mill owner, Mr. Barlow, was pleased with the results that the partnership with Henry and Tom had yielded. The increase in steel quality and production yield exceeded expectations, reflecting positively on his business. This partnership had allowed him to tap into a newfound expertise and implement innovative methods that redefined the standards of steel production.

Within the community, whispers of this collaboration began to circulate. People marvelled at the entrepreneurial spirit and the potential for growth and prosperity that this partnership could bring to the region. The summer air was charged with excitement and anticipation as the business made its first strides toward success.

*

Tom's prior experiences and contacts in the Leeds area had given him valuable insights into the needs of the emerging motor industry. He was well aware of a common issue plaguing the new motor vehicles – the rapid corrosion of exhaust systems caused by the fumes from the burnt fuel. This knowledge ignited an innovative spark in Tom's mind.

Recognising the exceptional anti-corrosion properties of stainless steel, he saw a groundbreaking solution for the persistent problem of exhaust system deterioration. Stainless steel's durability and resistance to corrosion made it an ideal material for the exhaust systems of motor vehicles.

Driven by his entrepreneurial spirit and keen understanding of the industry's pain points, Tom wasted no time in acting. He sought out a bespoke motor vehicle manufacturer in Sheffield, known as 'Attercliffe Motors Ltd.' Tom's proposal for stainless steel exhaust systems immediately piqued their interest.

While the venture was still in its early stages, Attercliffe Motors Ltd. had expressed genuine enthusiasm for Tom's idea. They understood the potential benefits of utilising stainless steel in their vehicle designs, particularly in ensuring the longevity and reliability of exhaust systems.

As the venture progressed and the stainless-steel exhaust system proved its worth, Tom had plans to expand his reach. His contacts and knowledge of the industry would allow him to approach larger manufacturers in prominent automotive hubs like Birmingham and Coventry. The aim was clear – to revolutionise the automotive sector by introducing a durable and corrosion-resistant solution to a long-standing problem. Tom's vision and determination were driving forces behind this ambitious endeavour.

For Henry and Branson, this was just the beginning. Their stainless-steel business had taken its first steps, showing promise and potential. As they stood on the threshold of a new era, their collaboration had set in motion a journey that would reshape industries and change lives.

Dinner Guest

Mary's heart raced as she flitted about the sitting room, ensuring everything was in perfect order for her first guest. Lady Louise, a friend and investor in Tom's business venture, was due to arrive, and Mary wanted everything to be flawless.

Tom entered the room, dressed in a well-fitted suit, his tie slightly askew. "Does this tie go with the suit?" he inquired, turning slightly to give Mary a better look. She approached him with a fond smile and deftly adjusted his collar and tie.

"You look good," Mary assured him, her voice quivering with nervous excitement. She cast a quick glance at the clock on the mantle, eager for Lady Louise's arrival.

Before long, the doorbell chimed, signalling the guest's arrival. Mary felt a surge of anticipation as she greeted Lady Louise warmly. The evening unfolded smoothly, with Maggie serving a delightful meal. The three of them engaged in pleasant conversation, and Mary couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment in hosting her first guest in their home.

The table was set elegantly for dinner, and the soft glow of candlelight illuminated the room as Mary, Tom, and Lady Louise settled in for their meal. The dinner table was set elegantly, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Mary, Tom, and Lady Louise sat down to enjoy their meal, and as they began to eat, the conversation turned to Mary's university aspirations.

Lady Louise, ever the gracious host, began, "Mary, my dear, Tom has mentioned your desire to pursue higher education. I must say, I find it quite commendable. What field of study are you planning to pursue at the university?"

Mary smiled warmly, appreciating Lady Louise's interest. "Thank you, Lady Louise. I have a keen interest in Law and business, so I'm considering pursuing a degree in one of those fields. It's something I've longed to do for a while now."

Tom chimed in, his eyes filled with pride, "Mary diligently prepared for her entrance exams, which she tool a couple of months ago. She's made incredible progress."

Lady Louise nodded approvingly. "Education is a powerful tool, Mary. It can open doors you never knew existed. I believe you'll excel in whatever field you choose."

Their conversation shifted to lighter topics, and as the evening wore on, they discussed their upcoming Irish honeymoon to Bray, near Tom's hometown.

Tom's eyes sparkled with excitement as he shared, "We're planning to visit some of the places I grew up around. It's been years since I've been back to Ireland, and I want Mary to experience its beauty and charm."

Lady Louise smiled and extended an invitation, "Well, as you'll be passing through Dublin on your way to Bray, you simply must join me for dinner one evening. It would be a delight to host both of you."

Mary and Tom exchanged a glance, touched by Lady Louise's kindness. "We'd be honoured," Mary replied with gratitude. "Thank you for the invitation."

With that, the evening continued, filled with laughter, shared stories, and the promise of new adventures for Mary and Tom as they embarked on their Irish honeymoon and Mary's journey toward higher education.

The Future

It was a warm May evening, and Tom eagerly awaited Mary's return, there was a white envelope and a black velvet box tied with a white ribbon and bow, sitting at her place on the dining room table. His excitement was barely contained as Mary finally came home, her coat still draped over her shoulders. Maggie, their ever-reliable maid, helped her with her coat as Tom ushered her towards her chair at the dining room table, where the envelope and box lay in anticipation.

"Oh, Tom, it's finally here," Mary said nervously, her fingers trembling. "What if I didn't get in?" She voiced the fear that had been gnawing at her.

Tom gave her a brief but reassuring hug. "Then I am here, and we will think of something else," he told her with a confident smile.

With bated breath, Mary opened the envelope, using the letter opener that Tom passed her. Her eyes scanned the thick white pages within, her hands shaking as she read the contents to herself. A single tear fell from her eye, and she turned to Tom with a radiant smile. "I got in."

Tom couldn't contain his joy any longer and let out a whoop of happiness. He pulled her close and kissed her soundly. "I never doubted it for a second, Mary."

"Go on, what does the letter say?" he asked eagerly, wanting to hear all the details.

Mary paraphrased the letter with excitement, highlighting the important parts. "They're offering me a place to study Law at the University of Leeds, starting in September."

Tom's eyes sparkled with pride and happiness. "That's wonderful news, Mary. You've earned this opportunity, and I couldn't be prouder of you."

Then, with a warm smile, he slid the black velvet box towards Mary. She untied the white ribbon and opened the box to reveal a beautiful wooden fountain pen with gold fittings. Her eyes widened in delight. "I thought you should have a pen suitable for a Solicitor," Tom explained.

Mary admired the pen's craftsmanship and thoughtfulness of the gift. She looked up at Tom with gratitude. "Oh, Tom, it's lovely. Thank you." She embraced her husband tenderly, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and support from him.

Tom leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I've also made a reservation at The Savoy Restaurant for 7:30 pm. A cab will pick us up at 7."

Mary's eyes twinkled with excitement. "Tom, you think of everything."

They both knew that this night out was not just to celebrate Mary's academic success but also to cherish the love and partnership they had built together. As they excitedly got ready for their celebration, Mary couldn't help but feel grateful for the man who stood by her side through every challenge and triumph.

*

University of Leeds                                                                           21^st May 1914

Dear Lady Mary Branson,

I am delighted to extend my heartfelt congratulations and a warm welcome to you on behalf of the University of Leeds. It is with great pleasure that we accept your application to pursue a course in Law at our esteemed institution, commencing on Monday the 7^th of September 1914.

Your admission to the University of Leeds is a testament to your dedication and commitment to furthering your education. We understand that your journey to this point has been unique, and your determination to embark on this educational pursuit is commendable.

Having successfully passed our entrance examination, your qualifications meet our academic standards, and we believe you possess the potential to excel in your chosen field of study. Furthermore, the character reference provided by Dr. Gerard Finlay MD, and the academic reference submitted by Mr. Tom Branson B.A. (Hons) & M.A. in Mathematics, both spoke highly of your capabilities and suitability for this endeavour.

At the University of Leeds, we are committed to providing a supportive and enriching learning environment.

Lady Mary Branson, your journey towards acquiring a formal education is an inspiring one. We look forward to welcoming you into our academic community and witnessing your achievements in the field of Law.

In preparation for your enrolment, you will receive further communication outlining important details such as registration, course structure, and orientation activities. Should you have any queries or require assistance, please do not hesitate to reach out to our admissions office.

Once again, congratulations on your acceptance to the University of Leeds. We eagerly anticipate the start of the academic year, where you will embark on a path of knowledge and discovery.

Yours sincerely,

Ronald Salvoy

Dean of the Faculty of Arts

University of Leeds

Celebratory Dinner

Mary and Tom's night at The Savoy was a true celebration of Mary's success and a rare moment of indulgence for the couple. The elegant restaurant was softly lit, with the gentle glow of crystal chandeliers casting a warm ambiance over the diners. The clinking of fine china and the murmur of conversations filled the air, creating an atmosphere of refined sophistication.

As they settled into their seats, Mary couldn't help but marvel at the opulent surroundings. She felt a sense of pride that she was here, at The Savoy, with her husband, celebrating her acceptance into the University of Leeds. It was reminiscent of the dinners she had known growing up at Downton Abbey.

Tom, ever the attentive husband, had pulled out Mary's chair and smiled at her. "You look absolutely radiant tonight," he said, his eyes filled with admiration. "This is a special occasion, and you deserve all the celebration in the world."

Mary blushed at the compliment. "And you, Tom, are the reason I've reached this milestone. I couldn't have done it without your support and encouragement."

Their conversation flowed seamlessly, a testament to the deep connection they had forged over the last year of marriage. They reminisced about their journey together, from the early days of their marriage to the challenges they had faced. Tom recalled their time in Leeds, his transition from a chauffeur to an entrepreneur, and their hopes for the future.

"I never imagined, back when I was just a chauffeur, that we'd be here, dining at The Savoy," Tom admitted. "But I'm grateful for every twist and turn that led us to this moment."

Mary smiled warmly. "Our journey has been unconventional, to say the least, but it's been filled with determination, and the unwavering support of each other."

Their dinner was a culinary delight, with each course a masterpiece of flavours and presentation. They savoured every bite, enjoying the rare treat of such a sumptuous meal.

"Did I tell you the second gift I got Mr Carson?" Mary said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I picked out a book for him—a collector's edition of 'The Butler's Guide to Running the Home and Other Graces' by Stanley Ager. I thought it would be a fitting gift."

Tom chuckled. "I'm sure Mr. Carson will appreciate it. And speaking of gifts, I'm glad you liked the fountain pen. It's a symbol of the bright future you're embarking on."

Mary nodded, her gaze filled with determination. "I can't wait to start my studies in September. It's a new chapter in our lives, and I'm excited to see where it leads."

As the evening continued, Mary and Tom basked in the warmth of their love and the promise of a future filled with endless possibilities. They left The Savoy with full hearts, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges and adventures lay ahead, together.

Honeymoon

The morning sun cast a golden hue across the bustling port of Liverpool as Mary and Tom prepared to board the ferry to Dublin. They had chosen a second-class fare for the trip, mindful of their budget yet eager for the adventure that lay ahead.

The ferry, an impressive vessel with a tall stack and gleaming white paint, towered over the dock. As they ascended the gangway, they were greeted by the lively chatter of fellow travellers, the excited energy of those embarking on a journey.

Inside the second-class cabin, Mary and Tom found comfortable seats by a large window, the glass offering panoramic views of the bustling harbour. The seats were simple yet cosy, designed for passengers to relax during the journey.

As the ferry set sail, the city of Liverpool gradually receded into the distance. Mary leaned over to Tom, her voice filled with excitement. "I've never been on a ferry before, Tom. It's so thrilling!"

Tom smiled warmly at her, taking her hand. "It's a grand experience, Mary. And I promise you, our time in Bray will be even more wonderful."

The ferry's route took them across the Irish Sea, the gentle rocking of the ship soothing their spirits. They spent the journey gazing at the vast expanse of water, the sunlight playing on the waves like liquid diamonds.

After several hours, the silhouette of Dublin appeared on the horizon, a beautiful sight that signalled the near end of their voyage. As the ferry approached the harbour, Mary couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the adventures that awaited them on the Emerald Isle.

With their arrival in Dublin, their honeymoon adventure in Ireland was about to begin, filled with exploration, relaxation, and the joy of spending quality time together.

*

As Tom and Mary embarked on their journey down the Irish coast to Bray in June 1914, they found themselves aboard a sturdy steam train, ready for an adventure filled with picturesque landscapes and cherished memories. The train was a hive of activity, with passengers of all ages eager to explore the scenic beauty of the Emerald Isle.

The railway tracks hugged the rugged coastline, offering breathtaking vistas of the Irish Sea stretching out to the horizon. The water glistened in the warm June sun, its azure depths reflecting the clear skies above. Seagulls swooped and circled, their melodious calls blending with the rhythmic chugging of the locomotive.

As they departed from Dublin, the urban landscape gradually gave way to lush, rolling hills dotted with quaint villages. Cottages with thatched roofs nestled amidst emerald fields, and the chimneys of small farmhouses puffed trails of white smoke into the sky. The countryside was alive with vibrant shades of green and splashes of wildflowers in every hue, creating a harmonious tableau of nature's beauty.

Tom, with a boyish excitement, pointed out familiar landmarks to Mary as the train meandered along the tracks. He gestured toward a charming stone bridge spanning a bubbling brook, recalling the countless times he had played there as a child. Then, he marvelled at the sight of a ruined round tower perched on a hill, its stark stonework contrasting against the backdrop of a cerulean sky. Memories of youthful escapades and dreams filled his eyes as he gazed upon these places.

The train's compartments were filled with passengers, each lost in their own reverie, their faces reflecting the serenity and wonder inspired by the coastal journey. Families with children, couples, and solitary travellers all shared the sense of adventure that train travel offered in those days.

As the train approached Bray, the coast became more dramatic. Cliffs of stone and earth rose up from the shoreline, their faces weathered by the ceaseless assault of the sea. Waves crashed against the base of these cliffs, sending sprays of foam into the air like nature's fireworks.

The final stretch of the journey was accompanied by the fresh scent of saltwater, and a gentle breeze tousled Mary's hair as she and Tom leaned out the window to take in the breathtaking view. Bray's picturesque promenade and its row of colourful beachfront houses came into sight, signalling the end of their railway adventure.

The train station loomed ahead, and with a contented sigh, Tom and Mary prepared to disembark, eager to explore Bray and make new memories together while cherishing the sights of Tom's youth that had made the journey so special.

*

Mary and Tom's arrival in Bray marked the beginning of their Irish honeymoon, a much-needed escape from the hustle and bustle of their new life in Leeds. They had heard of the Royal Hotel in Bray, known for its wonderful views overlooking the Irish Sea, and decided it would be the perfect place to spend their first few nights together as a married couple.

The Royal Hotel, a grand Victorian building with a stately facade, stood proudly against the backdrop of the sea. Its large windows allowed the natural light to flood the interior, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The hotel's exterior was adorned with colourful window boxes, bursting with vibrant blooms, adding a touch of charm to the already picturesque setting.

Upon their arrival, they were greeted by the friendly hotel staff, who welcomed them with warm smiles and polite nods. The lobby exuded an air of elegance, with plush furnishings and tasteful decor that hinted at a bygone era of sophistication and luxury.

Mary and Tom settled into their room, which boasted a breathtaking view of the Irish Sea. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore serenaded them as they unpacked their belongings and made themselves at home.

With their stay at the Royal Hotel, they had three days of leisure ahead before they planned to visit Tom's foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Green. The Greens lived in a charming cottage on Mr. Knight's estate, where Mr. Green worked as a land agent. It was a serene and idyllic setting, a world away from the urban life they were growing accustomed to in Leeds.

One of Mary's eagerly anticipated activities during their seaside getaway was swimming in the sea. She had brought along a specially chosen swimming dress for the occasion, eager to dip into the cool waters of the Irish Sea. Her swimming skills dated back to her childhood, where she had learned alongside her sisters in one of the deeper ponds on the Downton estate. Back then, she swam in her simple shift, with a watchful governess overseeing their aquatic adventures.

Tom shared his own experiences of learning to swim with Mary. He recounted how Mr. Green had taught him to navigate the local river, emphasizing the importance of water safety in a region that sadly witnessed an accidental drowning almost every year. It was a skill he had developed over the years, as during the summers, Mr. Green would send a young Tom and Mrs. Green to spend blissful weeks by the sea in Bray.

Their days by the sea were filled with romantic walks along the shore, sumptuous meals in the hotel restaurant, and moments of pure bliss as they frolicked together in the sparkling waters of the Irish Sea. It was a chapter of their honeymoon filled with love, laughter, and the promise of many more beautiful days together as husband and wife.

*

Under the shimmering moonlight, Tom and Mary strolled hand in hand along the moonlit beach of Bray. The gentle waves kissed the shore, creating a soothing melody that accompanied their quiet conversation.

Tom looked at Mary with an affectionate smile. "Isn't this place just beautiful, Mary?"

Mary gazed out at the tranquil sea, the moon's reflection painting a silvery path on the water's surface. "It truly is, Tom. I can't remember the last time I felt so relaxed."

He tightened his grip on her hand. "I'm glad we decided to take this trip. It's important for us to have moments like these, away from the hustle and bustle of our daily lives."

Mary nodded in agreement. "You're right, Tom. It's a chance to be ourselves, away from the pressures and expectations of society. I cherish these moments with you."

As they continued to walk along the shore, the cool breeze ruffled Mary's hair. She spoke softly, almost as if sharing a secret. "Tom, do you ever think about how our lives have changed so drastically in such a short time?"

Tom squeezed her hand again. "All the time, Mary. Sometimes it feels like a whirlwind, doesn't it?"

She chuckled softly. "Yes, exactly. It's as if we were two different people not so long ago."

Tom stopped and turned to face her, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "But, you know, I wouldn't change a thing. Marrying you, Mary, was the best decision I've ever made."

Mary's heart warmed at his words. She reached up to caress his cheek. "And I feel the same, Tom. You've brought so much happiness and adventure into my life."

They stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the serenity of the night and the presence of each other. Then, as if guided by the moon itself, Tom leaned in and tenderly kissed Mary. It was a kiss filled with love, a promise of a future together, and an acknowledgment of how far they had come.

As they continued their moonlit walk, hand in hand, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, with unwavering love and determination.

*

he day to meet Tom's foster parents had finally arrived, and Tom couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement. He wanted everything to go well, as the people who had raised him meant the world to him. Mary, always the calming presence, assured him that anyone who had shaped such a kind and conscientious man had to be wonderful people themselves.

Mr. Green, the estate's trusted land agent, had arranged to borrow one of the estate cars to collect Tom and Mary. He had secured special permission from Mr. Knightly for this special occasion. Mrs. Green, in her eagerness to see Tom again after so many years, insisted on accompanying her husband to fetch them. As the estate car pulled up to collect them, there were warm embraces and hearty handshakes at the reunion. Tom's relief was palpable as he introduced Mary to his foster parents.

Mrs. Green was practically bubbling with excitement, so delighted to finally meet the woman who had captured Tom's heart. She assured Mary that she could call her "Maureen" and be at ease in their company. With a gleam in her eye, Mrs. Green shared the amazing news that Mr. and Mrs. Knightly had invited them all to a private dinner at the big house, a rare honour. She added that Mrs. Knightly was a charming and gracious woman.

Arriving at Mr. and Mrs. Green's cottage, they were shown to a cosy room with a double bed adorned with a brass bedstead. Mary couldn't help but compliment Maureen on the loveliness of the room. The warmth and hospitality extended by the Greens put Mary at ease, and she felt truly welcome in their home.

Over the next three days, Tom and Mary enjoyed delightful moments with Tom's foster parents. They explored Tom's childhood haunts, sharing stories and laughter along the way. Tom introduced Mary to his childhood friend Maggie, a tall woman with fiery red hair. Maggie proudly informed Tom that she had taken over her father's mill and was now running it successfully. She laughed as she showed Tom and Mary her beloved dogs and a coop full of chickens, the dreams of her childhood realised.

Mary was enchanted by everything she saw during their visit. Even the dinner with the Knightly’s proved to be a success. For one evening, she was introduced as "Lady Mary Branson," and it was as if her life hadn't undergone such radical changes. The Knightly’s were gracious hosts, and Mary felt a sense of belonging and acceptance that warmed her heart.

*

The morning sun streamed through the lace curtains of the cosy cottage where Tom and Mary had spent the past few days with Mr. and Mrs. Green. The aroma of freshly brewed tea and warm toast filled the air as they gathered around the wooden table for breakfast.

Mr. Green, a weathered man with kind eyes, looked at Tom with anticipation. "Well, lad, how's this new business venture of yours with Henry coming along?"

Tom took a sip of his tea before answering. "It's progressing, Mr. Green. We're making steady strides, but it'll be some time before we see substantial profits. We have a few interested parties in our stainless-steel exhausts and Attercliffe Motors Ltd have already started production, though."

Mr. Green nodded approvingly. "That's good to hear, Tom. Hard work and perseverance are the keys to success, you know."

Mary couldn't help but chime in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And speaking of hard work, I'm thrilled to begin my studies at the University of Leeds in September. It's a dream come true."

Mrs. Green beamed at Mary. "Oh, my dear, we're so proud of you. A lady pursuing higher education is a remarkable thing."

As they enjoyed their breakfast, the conversation naturally turned to the political climate. Tom, a staunch republican, and Mary, a devoted monarchist, often had spirited debates. Today was no different, as the topic of the tensions in mainland Europe came up.

Tom leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing. "I think it's all just imperialist posturing, Mr. Green. A lot of chest-thumping, but no one really wants a war."

Mary nodded in agreement. "Yes, and besides, most of the royal families in Europe are related to each other. They wouldn't let it come to that."

Tom and Mary exchanged a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment of their differing views on the monarchy. It was a subject they'd debated many times but had learned to agree to disagree. In this little cottage, with the Greens as their hosts, they were able to find common ground despite their differences.

As they finished their breakfast, Mr. Green raised his teacup in a toast. "To hard work, dreams coming true, and lively debates among friends."

Everyone joined in the toast, and in that moment, they cherished the bonds of friendship and family that had brought them together in this idyllic corner of the world, far from the uncertainties of the broader political landscape.

As their time with Tom's foster parents drew to a close, Tom and Mary shared a fond farewell with the people who had played such a significant role in his life. The train pulled out of Bray train station, taking them back to Dublin, and while there was a tinge of sadness in leaving, there was also a sense of fulfilment and contentment in the memories they had created together.

*

Their final night in Ireland was a grand affair, to be spent at The Shelbourne, a truly elegant establishment that had retained its classic charm. The hotel, as it was in 1914, was a magnificent example of Georgian architecture. Its grand façade boasted tall, arched windows adorned with delicate lace curtains. The entrance was adorned with ornate ironwork and potted plants that added a touch of natural beauty to the urban setting.

As Mary and Tom entered the hotel, they were immediately struck by the opulence of the interior. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, casting a warm and inviting glow over the marble floors. Plush velvet furnishings, rich wood panelling, and intricate mouldings adorned the lobby, creating an atmosphere of timeless sophistication.

That night, Mary and Tom were going to dine with Lady Louise, who had extended an invitation when she had visited them in Leeds. Tom, dressed in his finest dinner jacket, was eager to meet Lady Louise once more, and Mary, in an exquisite green gown, looked positively radiant.

Dinner with Lady Louise was a delightful affair. They were seated in a private dining room, where soft candlelight added to the intimate atmosphere. The table was set with fine china and silverware, and the menu offered a selection of delectable dishes.

As they enjoyed their meal, Lady Louise gently teased them about the future and whether or not babies were in their plans. Blushing slightly, Tom and Mary shared a glance before Tom replied, "We've decided to wait a little while before starting a family. Mary will be starting university in the Autumn, and we want to give her the opportunity to focus on her studies."

Mary, still blushing, added, "Yes, there's so much I want to learn and achieve before we expand our family. We're young, and there's no rush."

Lady Louise, Tom’s secret mother, nodded in understanding. "You're both wise to consider your future carefully. Enjoy this time together and savour every moment." She raised her glass in a toast to their happiness.

Tom and Mary regaled Lady Louise with animated tales of their recent honeymoon in Bray. As they savoured their gourmet meal, the newlyweds painted vivid pictures of their Irish adventure.

"It was simply enchanting," Mary began, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "We arrived in Bray in the late afternoon, and the views from our hotel, the Royal Hotel, were breathtaking. Our room overlooked the Irish Sea, and the sound of the waves lulled us to sleep each night."

Tom chimed in, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "We spent our days exploring the picturesque town, walking along the seafront promenade, and visiting local shops. The weather was remarkably pleasant, and we even took a horse-drawn carriage ride along the coast."

Mary continued, "One of the highlights was our swim in the Irish Sea. I bought a special swimming dress just for the occasion, and Tom taught me how to dive gracefully into the waves."

Tom smiled at the memory. "Indeed, I did. I used to swim in those waters as a boy, and I couldn't resist sharing the experience with Mary."

Their stories flowed like a gentle Irish brook, painting scenes of laughter, love, and the sheer joy of being together. Lady Louise listened attentively, her eyes filled with warmth as she shared in their happiness.

"It sounds like a dream," Lady Louise remarked. "I'm so pleased that you had such a wonderful honeymoon. Bray is a beautiful place, and it's clear that you both made the most of your time there."

Tom nodded appreciatively. "We did indeed, Lady Louise. It was a perfect start to our life together."

As the evening continued, the trio enjoyed the rest of their dinner, savouring not only the delicious cuisine but also the camaraderie and shared stories that made their time together so special.

After dinner, Tom and Mary returned to their opulent hotel room. The suite was beautifully appointed, with a canopy bed, plush furnishings, and a luxurious ensuite bathroom. They took full advantage of the facilities provided and the privacy of their accommodations to celebrate their marriage in the time-honoured fashion, basking in the joy of their love for each other.

News from Downton

Dear Lady Mary,

I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to share some joyful news with you from Downton. Lady Sybil's coming out ball was a splendid affair, and I wish you could have been here to witness it. The entire estate was alive with excitement and anticipation.

Lady Sybil looked absolutely stunning in her gown, and her smile lit up the room. It was a beautiful evening filled with music, dancing, and laughter at Downton House. The gardens were adorned with twinkling lights, and the atmosphere was truly magical.

You would have been pleased to see how much support and love she received from her family and friends. Lord and Lady Grantham were beaming with pride, and Lady Edith put aside her troubles to join in the celebration. Even the staff members were talking about how lovely it all was.

There was a moment during the dance when Lady Sybil shared a dance with Mr. Matthew Crawley. They looked so well-suited on the dance floor, and I couldn't help but notice the warmth and connection between them. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to spark some conversation among the staff about a potential match.

I know that you've been on a journey of your own, and I hope that you're finding some happiness and stability in your new life. Despite the challenges, I wanted you to know that Downton Abbey continues to thrive, and your family is finding ways to move forward.

Please take care and know that you are missed here. If there's anything you'd like to know about the happenings at Downton, I'm here to share.

With warm regards,

Anna

*

Mary carefully folded Anna's letter and placed it back in its envelope, her expression thoughtful as she held it in her hands. Tom, sitting across from her in their cosy living room, noticed the contemplative look on her face.

"What's on your mind, Mary?" he asked gently.

Mary glanced up at him, her blue eyes meeting his with a mixture of emotions. "It's a letter from Anna," she began. "She wrote to tell me about Lady Sybil's coming out ball at Downton House."

Tom leaned forward, intrigued. "How did it go? Was it a grand affair?"

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of Mary's lips as she recalled the details. "She said it was a splendid affair, filled with music, dancing, and laughter. Lady Sybil looked stunning in her gown, and the entire estate was alive with excitement."

Tom nodded, his eyes reflecting her sentiment. "I can imagine. Sybil's always had a way of brightening up any room she enters."

Mary's gaze softened as she continued. "Anna mentioned that Lady Sybil danced with Mr. Matthew Crawley. It seems they looked well-suited on the dance floor, and there was some talk among the staff about a potential match."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "A potential match, you say?"

Mary nodded. "Yes, though she's only eighteen. It's... interesting, to say the least."

Tom couldn't help but smile. "Well, we all know how unpredictable matters of the heart can be. If there's a spark between them, who are we to judge?"

Mary chuckled softly. "You're right, Tom. Love has its own way of defying expectations."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment before Mary spoke again, her tone shifting slightly. "I do miss Downton sometimes, especially on occasions like this. The memories of grand events and bustling life... it all feels like a different lifetime."

Tom reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "I understand, Mary. Downton holds a special place in your heart, and mine too, in a way. But we've built a life of our own, haven't we?"

Mary turned her hand to lace her fingers with his. "Yes, we have, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Our flat, our friends, and most importantly, our dreams."

Tom's eyes met hers, filled with warmth and love. "Our future is bright, Mary, and we'll face it together."

Mary leaned in to press a loving kiss to his lips, sealing their shared understanding and commitment to their new life together.

*

As Mary and Tom sat together in the comfortable intimacy of their home, the spectre of looming war in Europe cast a shadow over their conversation. Tom's business venture with Henry was thriving, and he was determined to prove the value of using stainless steel in vehicles. Yet, the uncertainty of international affairs weighed heavily on Mary's mind.

"Tom," Mary began, her voice tinged with concern, "I can't help but worry about the possibility of war in Europe. What if it comes to that? What if you're called up?"

Tom, who had been perusing a newspaper, set it aside and turned to face his wife, his expression calm and resolute. "Mary, I share your concerns, and I've always been against war on principle. But we must remember, we're not at war yet. The situation might be averted, and diplomacy may prevail."

Mary nodded, acknowledging the rationality of his words, but her worry remained evident. "I know, Tom, but I've heard stories of conscientious objectors facing dire consequences. Prison, even. I can't bear the thought of you going through such hardships."

Tom reached out and gently took her hand in his. "Mary, I appreciate your concern for me, but we must have faith that reason will prevail. Besides, I'll do everything in my power to avoid conflict. And if it comes to that, we'll face it together, as we always have."

Mary leaned in, resting her head on Tom's shoulder, finding comfort in his unwavering support. "I just can't help but worry about what the future holds," she admitted softly.

He kissed her forehead, his embrace warm and reassuring. "Neither can I, my love, but we'll face it together, come what may. For now, let's focus on the present and the life we're building here in Leeds. We'll make the most of every moment."

And in that moment, they held each other close, finding solace in their love and the strength they drew from one another, ready to face an uncertain future hand in hand.

Chapter Text

WW1

University Days

Mary's first day at the University of Leeds was a mix of excitement and apprehension. She had dressed smartly and professionally for the occasion, a reflection of her commitment to her studies. As she made her way through the bustling campus, her nerves simmered just beneath the surface, intensified by the knowledge that Britain was at war with Germany.

The chair of the Law department had wasted no time in making announcements about the accelerated course load. It was a measure designed to allow male students to complete their studies early so they could join the armed forces and serve their country. Mary, determined as ever, had chosen to take the accelerated course as well. This decision meant longer terms and additional summer sessions, but it brought her closer to her ultimate goal. By the winter of 1916, she hoped to have completed all the necessary coursework, with only her thesis on her chosen subject standing between her and her law degree.

Tom's unwavering encouragement and support had fortified her resolve. She knew this journey would be challenging, especially with the world at war, but she was willing to endure it to achieve her dreams.

Her friend Fleur, who was studying Library Sciences, had also opted for the accelerated path. The two women had each other for company and support during these intense academic months. But Fleur's talk of volunteering for the war effort once her degree was completed weighed heavily on Mary's heart.

One evening, as they were studying together in Mary and Tom's flat, Fleur mentioned her intentions once more, and Mary couldn't help but be affected. The war was a source of deep concern for her, not only because of its impact on the world but also because of Tom's anti-war sentiments.

"Fleur," Mary began, her voice carrying a note of unease, "I understand your desire to contribute to the war effort but talk of it unsettles me. You see, my husband, Tom, he's strongly against the war, on principle. I worry about what he might do if he's ever called up to serve."

Fleur looked thoughtful, her curly brown hair framing her face as she considered Mary's words. "I can understand your concern, Mary. It's a difficult situation, especially with the differing views on the war. But we must all follow our convictions, mustn't we?"

Mary sighed, her gaze fixed on her books but her mind clearly elsewhere. "Yes, we must," she conceded, "even when it means facing difficult choices and the uncertainty of the future."

As they continued to study, the weight of the world outside their books and notes hung heavy in the air, and Mary couldn't help but wonder how the war would continue to shape their lives and the lives of those they loved.

Going Dancing

Mary and Tom had been looking forward to the charity ball for weeks, and the evening had finally arrived. Despite the ongoing war, the University was hosting this event to raise funds for the war effort, and it was one of the few social activities they had to look forward to.

Tom, dressed in his meticulously tailored old tailcoat, fiddled with his cufflinks, a bit nervously. The coat had been expertly refitted to accommodate his frame, a testament to his frugal nature. Mary couldn't help but smile as she looked at him. "I haven't seen you wear this before," she remarked, her voice low and playful. "You look very handsome tonight, positively delicious," she added, her words laced with flirtation. Tom, still blushing after all this time, was delighted that even after six months of marriage, Mary could still make him blush.

Mary, resplendent in a black dress adorned with white detailing, felt a thrill of excitement. The dress was new, a small luxury they could afford. It was almost like old times, and she relished the opportunity to get dressed up.

As they stepped into a cab, Tom offered his arm to Mary, and she took it with a smile. They arrived at the University Ball, joining a stream of elegantly dressed attendees who had also come to support the cause.

Inside, the grand ballroom was adorned with decorations, a big band played lively tunes, and couples swayed on the dance floor. Waiters moved gracefully among the guests, offering trays of drinks and refreshments.

Mary and Tom found a table and were soon joined by Fleur, who looked radiant. She was accompanied by a Captain, whom she introduced as her brother's friend, Captain Samuel Marcus. Tom shook his hand warmly, and Mary smiled pleasantly at him.

The evening was filled with dancing, laughter, and conversations with acquaintances Mary had made during her time at the University. Tom's dancing skills surprised Mary, and she couldn't help but ask about his proficiency.

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer, Tom," she said with a smile as they twirled around the dance floor.

Tom grinned back at her. "Well, I went to an all-boys preparatory school," he explained. "The only chance we got to talk to girls was during dance classes, so you bet we all signed up."

As the night wore on, Mary and Tom enjoyed each other's company, dancing and mingling with fellow attendees. It was a night of light-heartedness and escape from the grim reality of the war.

When it was finally time to head home, Mary leaned against Tom's shoulder in the cab, her fatigue slowly overcoming her. She murmured sleepily with a contented smile, "That was fun." Tom nodded in agreement, grateful for the respite from the worries of the world outside, and gently placed a kiss on her forehead as they journeyed back home.

News from the Front

Tom received letters from his friends on the front, and each letter brought a mix of emotions.

Orwell Power, a long-time friend of Tom, Bertie, and Peter, had joined up almost as soon as the war was declared. Commissioned as an officer, he had undergone rigorous training to prepare for his role. However, his letters told of a harrowing experience on the front lines. The intensity of the conflict, the horrors of trench warfare, and the toll it took on both body and mind were vividly described in Orwell's words.

Bertie's letters, on the other hand, carried a more optimistic tone. Stationed at HQ, he had a broader perspective on the overall war effort. His missives were filled with reports of strategic movements, military plans, and, at times, hints of hope. From his vantage point, it seemed that there was still progress to be made, despite the grim realities faced by those on the front lines.

Tom also received letters from old school friends, and these brought more sombre news. Some of the men he had once shared classrooms and camaraderie with had already perished in the war. Their deaths weighed heavily on Tom's conscience, intensifying his opposition to the conflict.

The moral dilemma Tom faced was a challenging one. He couldn't reconcile the loss of life and the suffering he read about in his friends' letters with the idea of joining the war effort. Yet, knowing that he hadn't been called up for service, he felt a personal responsibility to work toward improving the lives of the soldiers on the front lines.

Since 1913, Tom had been researching different motor engineers who were working on four-wheel-drive vehicles. He believed that developing such vehicles, like lorries and trucks, could greatly benefit the soldiers. These vehicles would enable easier transport of supplies, reducing the logistical challenges faced by the military. They could also serve as ambulances, providing crucial aid to the wounded.

Tom's dedication to this project was unwavering. He saw it as a way to make a meaningful contribution to the war effort without directly participating in the violence he abhorred. As he read his friends' letters and witnessed the toll the war was taking, he became even more determined to bring his vision to life, hoping to provide some relief to those enduring the hardships of the front lines.

*

Every Saturday, Mary played host to an afternoon tea for her neighbours: Brenda, Mrs. Finlay, and Fleur. Mrs. Finlay was the tenant on the first floor, sharing the flat with her formerly retired doctor husband. The Finlays' two sons-in-law had enlisted early in the war, and Brenda, Mary, and Mrs. Finlay all shared a daily anxiety whenever the postman arrived, fearing for their husbands. Both Brenda and her husband, along with Tom, were of Irish descent and held a markedly different perspective on the war compared to their English counterparts.

At these tea gatherings, there was an unspoken rule: conversation about the politics of the war was strictly prohibited. Mary viewed these teas as a means of supporting her female friends. She also invited her housekeeper, Mrs. Harris, to these impromptu gatherings, as she had three sons and two daughters, all of whom had been affected by the war in some way. Mrs. Harris considered herself fortunate that her youngest son, Jimmy, had been accidentally blinded in one eye as a child while playing with fireworks, rendering him ineligible for military service. He devoted his time to assisting his sisters and sisters-in-law, whose husbands were serving in various capacities.

The women would gather, chat, sip tea, and engage in knitting. They crafted hats, scarves, and socks for the soldiers at the front. Mary quickly picked up the skill and proved to be an exceptionally fast knitter. She liked to add a touch of fancy stitching to the ends of her scarves to make them a bit more special.

On this particular day, the women made an extra effort to support Fleur. She had received a letter from her mother earlier in the week, conveying the devastating news that her young cousin Eddie had been killed at the Somme; he was only 19 years old.

Being out of touch with her old social circle, Mary wasn't aware of how her friends from Downton, like Evelyn Napier, were faring. However, she did know from Anna that the head gardener at Downton had lost both his sons. Mary didn't interact with Burges as much as the indoor servants, but she remembered how proud he always was of his flowers and how he'd advise her and her sisters on which blooms were best for their arrangements.

Mary noticed that Fleur's knitting had become hopelessly tangled. She gently took the supposed hat from Fleur's trembling fingers and set about untangling the yarn and restoring the hat to its proper form. Brenda, understanding the need for solace, poured Fleur another cup of sweet tea.

Mrs. Finlay shared updates about her husband, who had rejoined the workforce at Leeds Hospital to help compensate for the younger doctors who had left for the army. He specialised in obstetrics and mainly worked to relieve the junior doctors so they could assist with treating wounded soldiers. His return to work meant he had more good news stories than bad. Mrs. Finlay recounted tales of healthy babies being born, sometimes crafting little bonnets and booties for them in delicate white and yellow, especially when the war's grim reality seemed overwhelming. She found that thinking about the future helped to alleviate the fear of the present.

Mary contributed her own news, sharing a quirky titbit she had learned that week. "Did you know that witchcraft is still a punishable crime in Scotland?" she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Let's be careful not to whip up any potions in our kitchens, ladies."

The women chuckled at Mary's playful warning, the light moment providing a brief respite from the anxieties of their time. Together, they forged bonds of friendship and support that helped carry them through the challenges of wartime England.

War Effort

Mary and Tom, deeply moved by the news of their family members and friends serving on the front lines, as well as news from Downton through Anna, felt compelled to find ways to help and support the war effort.

Mary's days were consumed by her studies at the University of Leeds as she pursued her law degree. Meanwhile, Tom dedicated himself tirelessly to his work at the factory, where he was focused on developing a prototype four-wheel-drive system using stainless-steel components.

In their discussions about how they could contribute, Tom proposed a generous idea. He suggested that they extend an invitation to all his acquaintances serving in the armed forces, offering them the chance to spend their leave at their flat in Leeds. This offer would be especially meaningful for those who didn't have a home to return to or whose homes were too far away, such as his Irish friends in the army. Mary readily agreed to this idea, appreciating Tom's compassion and hospitality.

Mary also felt she could make a meaningful contribution by organising the women at the factory. She proposed the idea of making collections for the Red Cross, assembling care packages, and rolling bandages. In addition, she suggested that, a couple of evenings each week, both she and Tom could dedicate their time to writing letters to the soldiers at the front. These letters would serve as a morale booster, offering support and encouragement to those facing the hardships of war.

United in their desire to make a positive impact, Mary and Tom embraced these efforts to support their loved ones and all those affected by the war.

*

Orwell Power, the son of the Marquess of Donegal, was the first friend to take Tom and Mary up on their offer to spend leave at their flat in Leeds. Normally, Orwell would have spent his leave with his friend Peter Pelham, but Peter was in America at the time his leave was due.

Tom eagerly collected his weary friend from the station, hiring a cab for the journey back to their flat. During the ride, Orwell was unusually quiet, quieter than his already reserved demeanour would suggest. It was a contemplative journey.

When they arrived at the flat, Orwell managed to produce a semblance of normalcy upon meeting Mary. Surprisingly, Mary and Orwell had some mutual acquaintances. She even recalled dancing with Orwell's brother John at her coming-out ball.

Dinner was a quiet yet delicious affair, with Mrs Harris's culinary skills on full display. Casual conversation flowed throughout the meal. After dinner, they retired to the sitting room, where a cosy fire provided warmth against the evening chill. There, Tom and Mary tried to engage Orwell in discussions about everyday activities.

However, as the night wore on, Orwell excused himself and retired to the study, where Mrs. Harris had arranged a daybed for his stay.

Tom tended to the fire, banking it and placing a guard in front, while Mary began her nightly ablutions. Soon, Tom would join her in their room.

Mary turned off the lamp and snuggled with Tom. In a hushed tone, she inquired, "Is he always so reticent?" Her curiosity was piqued. "He wasn't much of a chatterbox, but he did have an urbane sense of humour," Tom replied, a note of concern in his voice.

As the night settled around them, they engaged in quiet conversation before drifting off to sleep, wondering about the weight that Orwell seemed to carry with him.

*

Mary suddenly opened her eyes, her heart thudding in her chest. There was a noise—a thumping sound coming from the next room. Tom, however, was in a deep slumber, and it took some vigorous shaking to rouse him.

"Tom! Tom! Wake up," Mary insisted urgently.

Half-awake and disoriented, Tom mumbled, "It's too early, I don't wanna get up."

Mary persisted, giving him another firm shake. "Tom!" she hissed.

Startled, Tom blinked awake and realised that Mary had forcefully pulled him from his slumber. "What is it?" he asked groggily.

"I heard a noise, listen," she said.

They both lay still in the bed, straining their ears to catch any further sounds. It wasn't long before Tom heard it too—a thump and perhaps a faint moan. "I heard it too," he confirmed. "I think it must be Orwell. I'll go and check on him."

Tom climbed out of bed, threw on his dressing gown over his pyjamas, and quietly slipped out of the bedroom. He made his way to the study door and tapped lightly. "Orwell, are you awake?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Listening carefully, it sounded like Orwell was talking to someone. Tom slowly opened the door, there was a slither of moonlight coming through a chink in the curtain, giving Tom just enough light to see Orwell twisting and turning. Tom entered the room, when he was closer to the bed, he could hear Orwell say, “move man, move!” repeatedly. Tom wasn’t sure what the best way to wake someone from a nightmare was.

As Tom stood at the end of the bed, he recalled a childhood memory of Mrs. Green shaking him gently by the foot when he had similar bad dreams. Drawing from this, he reached out and grabbed Orwell's foot firmly, giving it a shake while calling out his name. He repeated this process twice more until Orwell abruptly sat up in bed with a startled yell.

"Orwell, you were having a bad dream," Tom gently informed him. He could see that Orwell was bent over, breathing heavily, and his hands were trembling.

Tom gave him a few moments to recover before he spoke again. "Would you like some warm milk with nutmeg to soothe your nerves?" he asked kindly. Orwell, still visibly shaken, nodded in agreement.

Tom offered his hand to help Orwell stand, but the other man declined with a shake of his head. Tom stepped back from the bed, allowing Orwell some space to compose himself.

Leading Orwell down to the kitchen, Tom retrieved a pan and two mugs. He fetched the milk from the pantry and began to gently heat it. With a sense of quiet competence, Tom prepared the warm milk and placed the mugs on the kitchen table. He gestured toward the nutmeg shaker, indicating that Orwell could use it if he wished. Orwell, grateful for the gesture, sprinkled a bit of nutmeg into his milk.

After a few minutes of silence, Orwell slowly started to talk, “There was this private under my command, just a boy really, I don’t think he was actually 18.” Orwell took a deep shaky breath, “We were under fire one day, it was so strange, as the sky was so blue, like the perfect summers day of your youth, you know?” Tom nodded, “and I had ordered everyone to take cover and he just froze, like a rabbit caught in a beam of light. I kept yelling at him, ‘move man, move’ and he just stood there with a terrified look on his face until a bullet hit him square in the head. He just gently toppled over, with that same terrified look frozen on his face forever.” Tom just looked at Orwell with compassion. “I don’t think I will ever forget that moment. War is a terrible business, Tom.” Orwell whispered. “Stay out of it as long as you can,” he advised, “I’ll try” Tom said quietly, feeling deeply for his friend in that quiet moment.

They both sat at the table in silence, the only sound in the room being the ticking of the kitchen clock. Tom eventually reached out and gripped Orwell's shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was not alone. Together, they sat in the tranquil embrace of the night, the rhythmic ticking of the clock serving as their only companion.

*

Eventually after a week, Orwell had to return to duty and with fond farewells Tom and Mary waved their friend off. Tom wrote to his friend Peter about Orwell’s stay, to help put his mind at ease, as Orwell was a particular friend of his.

Dear Peter,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I wanted to share some news with you regarding our dear friend, Orwell Power. He recently spent a full week with Mary and me here in Leeds, and I thought you'd appreciate knowing how he fared during his stay.

Firstly, let me assure you that Orwell is in better spirits than when he arrived. The nightmares that had been haunting him seem to have lessened in intensity, and his overall demeanour is more composed. Mary and I did our best to provide a welcoming and calming atmosphere, and I believe it had a positive impact on him.

While he was with us, we tried to keep things as normal as possible. We talked about a variety of topics, from our shared memories to the everyday activities that occupied our time. I think having a break from the front lines and a change of scenery did him good.

Orwell expressed his profound gratitude to both Mary and me before he left. I know that our home may not be the same as his own, but he assured us that it was a much-needed respite. I hope that our time together has contributed in some small way to his well-being.

Please rest assured that we'll continue to support Orwell as much as we can, and I'll keep you updated on his progress. The bond of friendship remains as strong as ever, even in these challenging times.

I look forward to hearing from you soon and hope that we can all meet again when this dreadful conflict finally comes to an end.

Warm regards,

Tom

Welcome News

William Power, the Marquess of Donegal, sat in his opulent study, a room adorned with dark wood panelling and shelves lined with leather-bound books. The weight of his responsibilities as the head of one of Britain's most prominent families hung heavily upon him. His once immaculate desk now bore the scattered remnants of an afternoon's correspondence.

The Marquess had experienced tragedies that no parent should endure. His youngest son, a promising lad of just sixteen, had met a tragic end during a rugby game at school. And his eldest, Tristian, had been swept away by the war's unforgiving tide within the first two months of the conflict in 1914.

He never dreamed that he, a man of immense wealth and influence, would find himself in this position. He had watched as his sons, born of their mother, had grown. He had been proud that they had answered their country's call, that they were doing their duty. But deep down, he had never truly believed that the war would touch his precious sons. It was a bitter realisation that life's cruel hand could strike even the loftiest of hearts.

The butler, a man who had served the Donegal family for decades, entered the study with a tray bearing the day's mail. William's eyes, weary from both sorrow and the weight of his responsibilities, glanced at the stack of envelopes. There, among the pile, was a letter with distinctive handwriting, unmistakably his son Orwell's.

His heart skipped a beat as he tore open the letter, revealing Orwell's account of his recent leave. Orwell's words painted a picture of time spent with a certain Tom Branson and his young wife. Tom was William’s illegitimate son from a brief liaison with the beautiful Lady Louise Lockheed. William's eyebrows raised as he read about Tom’s wife, a "Lady Mary Branson," the daughter of the Earl of Grantham. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of his illegitimate son marrying into such aristocracy.

Memories flooded back to him, thoughts of Louise, and the bargain they had struck. He had financially supported Tom's education, all the while receiving annual reports from the solicitor they had entrusted with this secret arrangement. He had known of Tom's extraordinary intelligence, and it seemed that his son was now working on something of monumental significance. The Marquess had always felt the need to be there, pushing his sons forward, but here was Tom, proving that he could succeed without his father's direct influence.

With a deep breath, he finished reading the letter, Orwell's words filled with praise for his half-brother. A sense of guilt washed over him as he pondered the secrets he had kept and the fractured relationships between his sons. He longed for them to have the brotherly bond that had been denied them. Yet, the necessity of maintaining the secrecy surrounding his long-ago affair, and the potential harm it could bring to his reputation, continued to weigh heavily on his mind.

With a resigned sigh, he ran his fingers over the letter once more before making a decision. He carefully folded the letter and placed it in a drawer, alongside the other missives that held the story of his family's complicated history.

The Dreaded Day

As May of 1915 drew to a close, the day Mary and Tom had been dreading finally arrived. Tom received a distinctive green envelope among his morning mail, a harbinger of the impending medical examination.

Mary held her breath, her anxiety palpable, as Tom opened the letter. The contents confirmed their expectations. Tom's face grew solemn as he delivered the news to Mary. "It's a letter to report for a medical in two days' time," he said, his voice steady but laden with the weight of uncertainty.

Mary's fear was tangible. "Do you know what you will do?" she inquired, her concern evident.

"My position on the war hasn't changed, Mary," Tom gently reassured her. "I think it's best to get the medical over with, and then I will talk to my solicitor to see what exactly my options are."

Mary grappled with her own fears, torn between the worry of Tom changing his mind and going to war and the potential consequences of him sticking to his principles. They both hoped that Tom might be allowed to serve in a non-combat position, as some of his university friends who were Quakers had done, serving as ambulance drivers and in similar roles.

The day of Tom's medical examination arrived, and Mary had to attend her university classes, making the separation even more agonising. Her anxiety gnawed at her throughout the day, making concentration on her studies a daunting task.

Finally, when her lectures ended for the day, Mary gave her excuses to her friend Fleur and hastened home. She called out for Tom, seeking solace in his presence. When she found him, he was absorbed in his work, examining notes and processes on the blackboard.

Mary couldn't contain her curiosity. "Well?" she eagerly inquired.

Tom turned to her, his expression a mix of relief and uncertainty. "The medical went normally, as far as I could tell," he informed her. "The clerk on duty told me they are processing results quickly at present. It could be as little as two days before I get my orders."

Overwhelmed with emotions, Mary moved to embrace her husband. Tom, understanding her need for comfort, reciprocated the embrace. They stood together, silently acknowledging that their world hung in the balance.

The dining room was softly lit, casting a warm, intimate glow over the polished mahogany table set for two. A bouquet of fresh flowers graced the centre, their fragrance mingling with the aroma of the evening's meal. Candles flickered in delicate crystal holders, casting dancing shadows on the fine china.

Tom and Mary sat across from each other, the soft glow accentuating the warm smiles on their faces. The clinking of silverware against porcelain plates filled the air as they began their meal.

Mary, her expressive eyes bright with curiosity, looked across the table at Tom. "Tom, you were telling me about the progress with the business today," she prompted, her voice laced with eagerness.

Tom, a trace of pride in his voice, leaned slightly forward, engaging in the discussion. "Indeed, Mary. We've been receiving excellent reports on the vehicles we've fitted with stainless steel exhausts. It seems the improvements are working wonders. I even received a letter from Henry today, saying that the prototypes are performing better than expected."

Mary's eyes sparkled with interest as she sipped her wine. "That's wonderful news, Tom. Your dedication to this venture is truly remarkable. I'm proud of what you've accomplished."

A genuine smile graced Tom's lips as he returned Mary's sentiment. "Your support means the world to me, Mary. It's been a challenging journey, but we're making headway."

The conversation flowed as they savoured each course. Tom mentioned the 4WD lorry prototype, now ready for testing, and Mary listened attentively, her enthusiasm evident. She admired how Tom's determination and innovation were driving their business forward.

Between bites of their meal, they shared personal updates. Mary spoke of her recent academic achievements, a glint of excitement in her eyes. "I'm not the best in the class, but I'm in the top ten, Tom," she said, her pride evident.

Tom, ever the supportive husband, beamed with pride. "That's incredible, Mary. I've never doubted your intelligence and dedication. You'll achieve great things at university."

As dessert was served, they basked in the comfort of their shared accomplishments and dreams. The soft strains of music playing in the background added a romantic undertone to their dinner, deepening their connection as husband and wife.

Amid the clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of their conversation, Tom and Mary found solace in each other's company, cherishing these moments of respite from the uncertainties of the world around them.

After spending a quiet night reading together in the sitting room, they retired for the night. The night passed with Tom and Mary seeking refuge in their shared intimacy. As they clung to each other, they found a fleeting respite from the uncertainties that loomed on the horizon.

Results

The morning of May had brought an unusually heavy rainfall, the sound of it tapping against the windows serving as a gloomy backdrop to Tom and Mary's breakfast. They sat at the dining room table, their attention divided between their porridge and the mounting tension that weighed heavily on their shoulders.

Mary's anxiety bubbled to the surface as she sought answers. "Anything from the War Office?" she inquired, her voice betraying her unease. Tom, always the calming presence, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he responded, "No, not this morning."

His touch was meant to convey support, but Mary found the waiting unbearable. The uncertainty was tormenting her, and every moment without a resolution felt like an eternity. Tom tried to explain the bureaucratic nature of government processes, hoping to offer some comfort. "The clerk said it could be ready in two days, that might mean it was ready in two and sent on the third. You know how governments work, Mary."

Despite his efforts, the prospect of the impending decision still loomed over her. It meant another day out in the world with this uncertainty hanging like a sword of Damocles. She couldn't fathom how she would manage to focus on her university lectures under these circumstances. At least she had made plans to meet Fleur for lunch, a small distraction amidst the turmoil of waiting for news that could change their lives.

With a heavy heart, they knew there was nothing more to be done for now except to finish their breakfast and prepare to face the day, each step forward shrouded in the uncertainty of what the future held. As they parted ways, Mary made sure to give Tom a tender kiss, a silent expression of the love and support that would carry them through whatever was to come.

*

Tom had keenly observed the anxiety that gripped Mary as they awaited the results of his medical examination. He knew that his future weighed heavily on her, and he couldn't bear to see her suffer like this. So, he decided to meet her outside the gates of the University of Leeds, a small gesture of comfort and support.

As he stood there, waiting for Mary, he watched the flurry of activity around him. Young men and women in academic gowns moved about, their lives intertwined with the pursuit of knowledge. When he finally spotted Mary, her black gown billowing behind her, he couldn't help but smile. Her excitement at donning the university's official uniform always brought a sparkle to her eyes, marking her as a student of the prestigious institution.

Mary's face lit up when she saw Tom, and she rushed into his arms with unbridled delight. The couple walked arm in arm to the tram stop, reminiscing about their first tram ride together all those months ago. Mary marvelled at how much her life had changed since leaving Downton, with its newfound challenges and freedoms.

Their tram journey was a pleasant one, with two wooden seats side by side, reminiscent of their earlier adventures. They shared a fond smile, cherishing these little moments that strengthened their bond.

However, the train ride back home was less fortunate, and they had to stand in the midst of the bustling crowd. Men in uniforms and sombre-looking women surrounded them, casting disapproving glances at Tom, the civilian among them. Mary clung to her husband's arm, a protective gesture in response to those judgmental looks.

Upon their return home, it was only 5:30 pm by the clock on the mantle. Tom helped Mary out of her coat, but their domestic moment was interrupted by Maggie, the maid, bearing news of an afternoon letter.

Mary's heart sank as she feared the worst, but Tom remained composed as he broke the seal and read the letter. The weight of his words hit her as Tom confessed, "I failed the medical, the army rejected me." Mary was momentarily relieved until she read the letter herself and discovered the true reason: a heart condition. "A heart murmur?" she repeated, her voice filled with worry.

The letter provided little information, leaving them both in the dark about the implications of this diagnosis. Tom suggested they consult with Doctor Finlay when he was available, and Mary agreed.

"Why don't I ring for some tea?" Mary suggested, attempting to bring some semblance of normalcy to the moment. She rang the bell for Maggie and ordered tea.

Leading Tom to the settee, Mary sat down beside him, her hand firmly holding his. In the quietude of their home, they waited for the tea and the inevitable conversation that would follow, finding comfort in each other's presence.

Dilemma

Tom's emotions were in turmoil after receiving the news of his medical condition. He couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt and unease. The idea of receiving a free pass from the war when so many others were risking their lives on the frontlines weighed heavily on his conscience.

He knew that he had made the decision to be a conscientious objector, driven by his deep opposition to the war, but it still felt like he was avoiding a duty that many considered honourable. Tom had always believed in standing up for his principles, even when it was difficult or unpopular. This situation was no different, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

Mary, ever understanding and supportive, tried her best to empathise with Tom's conflicting emotions. To her, his medical condition was a relief in some ways, knowing that he wouldn't be sent into the horrors of the battlefield. However, she couldn't shake the worry about his health, especially since the news had come as a shock.

To gain a better understanding of his condition, they had consulted Dr. Finlay, who had patiently explained the implications of the heart murmur. He had even provided a recommendation for a heart specialist in Leeds, showing his genuine concern for Tom's well-being.

Feeling the need to confide in someone who would truly understand, Tom decided to write to his dear friend Bertie. Bertie had enlisted voluntarily before the war had even started, and he hadn't been conscripted like so many others. Tom believed that Bertie, of all people, would be able to relate to his complex mix of emotions. In his letter to Bertie, he poured out his heart, sharing his doubts, fears, and the inner conflict he was grappling with.

*

Dear Tom,

I received your letter, and it's good to hear from you, although I wish it were under happier circumstances.

I want you to know, my dear friend, that you are not alone in this struggle.

First and foremost, I am relieved to hear that your medical condition has spared you from the horrors of the frontlines. Though I understand the weight of your conscience in receiving what some might perceive as a free pass, you must remember that your stance as a conscientious objector is rooted in your deeply held principles. It is not an escape from duty; it is a stand for your beliefs.

The world has plunged into chaos, and I have seen firsthand the devastation that this war has wrought. While I chose to enlist voluntarily, it is not a reflection of your character that you have been rejected by the army on medical grounds.  We each must follow our own path, guided by our moral compass. Your commitment to peace is commendable and noble.

It's perfectly normal to feel conflicted about your situation. The sense of guilt and the weight of our decisions often bear heavily on our hearts. Due to your moral objections to the war is born out of your deep conviction against the violence and brutality of war. Your objections haven’t been negated just because you are unable to serve.

As for your health, I hope that you will seek the advice of the heart specialist recommended by Dr. Finlay. Your well-being is of the utmost importance, not only to yourself but to those who care about you deeply, including Mary and myself. Take good care of yourself, my friend, for you have a bright future ahead, one where you can continue to advocate for the principles you hold dear.

I want you to know that I stand by your side, regardless of the path you choose. You have always been a man of integrity and honour, and I have no doubt that you will continue to be so, no matter the circumstances. If you ever need someone to talk to or simply a friend to share your burdens, know that I am here for you, now and always.

Yours in unwavering friendship,

Bertie

Heart Specialist

Tom's visit to the heart specialist, Mr. Hart, was accompanied by a mix of anxiety and relief, with Mary by his side for support. As they sat in Mr. Hart's office, the specialist conducted a thorough examination, assessing Tom's overall fitness and health. To their relief, Mr. Hart deemed Tom to be in good health. However, the heart murmur remained a concern, and Mr. Hart explained that at that time, there were no medical treatments or surgical interventions that could address the condition.

The consultation took an awkward turn when Mr. Hart began to inquire about Tom's sex life. He asked Tom about symptoms such as shortness of breath, dizziness, or pain during sexual activity. Tom answered truthfully, stating that he didn't experience any such issues, and Mary confirmed his responses. As Tom didn't exhibit symptoms like heart palpitations, dizziness, or chest pain during physical activity or intimacy, Mr. Hart concluded that it was a mild case of a heart murmur. He assured them that, with proper care and adherence to his recommendations, Tom could lead a long and successful life.

Mr. Hart outlined a series of guidelines for Tom's ongoing health and well-being:

1. Diet: Tom was advised to maintain a diet rich in vegetables, fish, fruit, and other healthy foods. He should opt for brown bread over white and avoid foods that were overly rich or high in salt.
2. Alcohol: Tom was instructed to abstain from hard liquor entirely. He could occasionally enjoy a single glass of red wine or a glass of stout, limited to two glasses per week.
3. Smoking: Under no circumstances should Tom smoke.
4. Exercise: Tom was encouraged to engage in daily exercise for at least 30 minutes. Activities like brisk walking, swimming, or cycling were recommended to help raise his heart rate and induce slight perspiration.
5. Sexual Activity: Mr. Hart assured Tom and Mary that they could continue their normal frequency of sexual intercourse.
6. Relaxation and Sleep: Tom was advised to make an effort to relax each evening and maintain a regular sleep schedule.
7. Strenuous Activities: Tom should avoid engaging in any strenuous activities, which could put undue stress on his heart. This included heavy lifting, pushing, pulling, or any task that could strain his heart.

Tom, being a man who appreciated simple, fresh food and wasn't a heavy drinker, found these recommendations quite manageable. He was willing to trade white bread for brown, and his occasional indulgence in dessert was considered acceptable. Tea with bread and jam remained a favourite, provided the bread was brown. As an active individual, ensuring a daily 30-minute brisk walk seemed feasible to him.

Overall, both Tom and Mary were content with the prognosis. Mary was determined to be vigilant in helping Tom maintain his health. Mr. Hart recommended that Tom return for an annual check-up and advised seeking an earlier appointment if he ever experienced the symptoms discussed during the consultation.

With gratitude for Mr. Hart's expertise, Tom and Mary left his office and decided to walk to the train station instead of taking the tram, enjoying the fresh air and each other's company as they moved forward with hope and optimism.

 *

As Tom and Mary left the heart specialist's office, a mixture of relief and reassurance washed over them. Mr. Hart's diagnosis was, in some ways, a validation of Tom's overall health, despite the concerning heart condition. Mary held Tom's arm as they made their way through the bustling streets of Leeds, eager to follow Mr. Hart's recommendations.

Mary had suggested they walk to the train station instead of taking the tram, eager to incorporate the recommended daily exercise into their routine. The brisk walk would also give them some quiet time to reflect on the day's revelations.

As they strolled along, Mary slipped her arm through Tom's, holding onto him as if to shield him from any worries that might linger. "We'll manage this together, Tom. I'm here for you, every step of the way."

The specialist's instructions were clear and comprehensive, and Mary made a mental note of each one, determined to support Tom's health in every way possible. As they walked, she spoke softly, her voice filled with earnestness, "We'll make sure to follow every one of his recommendations, Tom. Your health is of the utmost importance."

Tom nodded, a look of determination in his eyes. "I know, Mary. I don't want this condition to hold me back from anything, especially not from being with you." He smiled warmly, taking her hand in his. "We'll stick to those guidelines, and everything will be just fine."

Mary couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a deep sense of love and gratitude for the man beside her. "You know, the doctor did say that our... intimacy can continue as usual," she mentioned with a playful glint in her eye.

Tom chuckled, his cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Well, that's one piece of advice I'm not likely to forget."

They reached the train station, Tom squeezed her hand gently, his heart full of love for his wife. "I want to be here for you, Mary. Always." Their steps fell into a comfortable rhythm as they made their way home, ready to face the future together, heart condition and all.

Bertie Comes for a Visit

It was a sunny July morning in Leeds, and Mary Branson was bustling around her small but well-kept flat, preparing for her dear friend Bertie's visit. She had been looking forward to this day for weeks, and she wanted everything to be just right. Her sense of anticipation filled the air as she moved about the rooms.

Mary was dressed in a simple but elegant blouse and skirt, and her dark hair was neatly pinned up. She had chosen her outfit with care, wanting to make a good impression on Bertie, even though he was an old friend. She had just finished arranging a vase of fresh flowers on the dining table when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Mary called, and the door swung open to reveal Mrs. Harris, her housekeeper and Maggie, the maid.

"Good morning, Lady Mary," Mrs. Harris greeted her with a warm smile. "Where do you want us to start today?"

Mary returned the smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Harris, Maggie. I'm so glad you are here. I want everything to be perfect for Captain Pelham's visit."

Mrs. Harris nodded. "Of course, my lady. We're here to help in any way we can."

Mary outlined her plans for the day. "First, I'd like the day bed to be prepared in the study. Fresh linens and towels, and perhaps a small vase of flowers on the small table."

Maggie nodded. "Yes, my lady, I'll see to it right away."

"Thank you, Maggie," Mary said, grateful for the maid's efficiency. "And Mrs. Harris, if you could help me with the dining table? I want it to look inviting for dinner tonight."

"Certainly, my lady," Mrs. Harris replied. "I'll make sure everything is spotless and in its place."

With everyone clear on their tasks, they set to work. Mary and Mrs. Harris carefully arranged the dining table with elegant placemats, polished silverware, and fine china. Mary's attention to detail was evident in every aspect of her preparations.

As Mary and Mrs. Harris continued to set the dining table, Mary turned to the housekeeper with a thoughtful expression. "Mrs. Harris, I was wondering about dinner tonight. Were you able to procure any meat or fish for tonight’s dinner? I want to ensure that it is something special for Captain Pelham. Do you think we have anything for a roast, perhaps?"

Mrs. Harris considered for a moment before responding, "I'm afraid, my lady, that we don’t have any fresh meat or fish in the larder. The deliveries have been delayed this week due to the war, but we do have plenty of fresh vegetables from the garden, and I thought we could make a hearty ham and leek pie with the left-over ham."

Mary nodded appreciatively. "That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Harris. A pie can be just as delicious, and I'm sure Bertie will appreciate it. Can you ensure it is ready to be served at 7pm?"

The housekeeper smiled. "I'm glad you think so, my lady. I'll start the preparations for the pie right away. It will be a wholesome and satisfying meal. I also have some rhubarb, I know Mr Branson loves a crumble, I also have enough milk to make fresh crème anglaise."

Mary's eyes brightened with enthusiasm. "Thank you, Mrs. Harris. I know it will be perfect. Bertie always appreciates a good meal, and your cooking is the best."

Mrs. Harris blushed modestly at the compliment. "You are too kind, my lady. I shall do my best to make this dinner a memorable one."

With their plans for dinner settled, Mary felt a sense of contentment. She knew that Bertie's visit was going to be special, not because of an extravagant meal but because of the warmth of their friendship and the effort put into making him feel welcome.

As they continued with their preparations, Mary couldn't help but feel grateful for Mrs. Harris and the sense of home she had brought to her little flat in Leeds.

Meanwhile, Maggie went to the study, where she prepared the day bed, with fresh sheets, fluffed the pillows, and placed a small vase of cut flowers Lady Mary had purchased from the market yesterday on the small side table. She wanted Captain Bertie to feel comfortable and welcomed during his stay, free from the war for a short time.

As they worked together, a sense of camaraderie filled the room. Mary was grateful for the help and support of Mrs. Harris and Maggie, and they were happy to assist in making Bertie's visit special.

By the time they were finished, the flat reflected the warm and inviting space, ready to welcome an old friend. Mary stepped back to admire their handiwork and couldn't help but smile. Everything was coming together beautifully, and she couldn't wait to see Bertie's reaction when he arrived later that day.

*

Bertie arrived at 4pm, Mary welcomed him warmly into her home. “Congratulations Bertie on your promotion to Captain,” Mary said as she showed Bertie to the sitting room and orders tea for them both, “Thank you!” he said.

Bertie and Mary enjoyed a pleasant conversation in the sitting room while sipping their tea. Mary found Bertie to be a calming presence, and his visit was a welcome respite from the worries that had been plaguing Tom lately.

As they chatted, Mary couldn't help but marvel at how far they had all come since her days at Downton Abbey. She shared stories of her studies at the University of Leeds, her dedication to learning, and her desire to contribute to the war effort in her own way.

Bertie, ever the attentive friend, listened intently and offered words of encouragement. "I know you to be a determined and capable person, Mary. I have no doubt you'll excel in your studies and make a meaningful impact."

Mary smiled gratefully, appreciating Bertie's unwavering support. "Your faith in me means a great deal, Bertie."

Their conversation continued, touching on various topics from university life to the changing world around them. Mary was keen to keep Bertie engaged and help him relax after his journey.

Finally, just as the clock struck six, the sound of the front door opening announced Tom's return. Mary stood to greet him, her eyes lighting up as she saw her husband enter the room.

"Tom, you're back!" Mary exclaimed, rushing over to him and giving him a welcoming kiss.

Tom grinned, clearly pleased to be home. "I couldn't wait to return, especially with Bertie here."

Bertie and Tom exchanged warm greetings, pleased to see each other again after a long absence. The camaraderie between the three friends was palpable as they settled into the cosy sitting room.

As the evening wore on, Mary, Tom, and Bertie enjoyed a delightful dinner together, sharing stories, laughter, and the promise of a bright future, even during challenging times.

*

Mary had gone to the workroom downstairs to finish an essay due for one of her lectures, leaving the two friends alone to converse in privacy. In the dimly lit sitting room, Tom and Bertie sat in plush armchairs, the soft glow of a table lamp casting a warm ambiance around them. The room felt cosy and private, an ideal setting for their candid conversation.

Bertie took a deep breath and spoke with a tone weighed down by the gravity of his thoughts. "Tom, I must confess, my optimism about this war ending soon has faded. I've seen too many comrades fall, too many lives shattered, and it weighs heavily on me. Sometimes, I can't help but feel relieved that I'm working at Central HQ and not at the front, I feel like a coward."

Tom regarded his friend with understanding in his eyes. "Bertie, what you feel doesn't make you a coward. It makes you sensible. Anyone who's seen the horrors of the front lines would understand why a man would want to avoid it. Your work at Central HQ is valuable, and it doesn't make you any less of a patriot."

Bertie sighed, his shoulders slumping. "But I can't help feeling like I should be there, with the men, facing the same dangers they do. This guilt gnaws at me."

Tom leaned forward, his voice firm. "You would do your duty, Bertie. I've known you long enough to be certain of that. Your duty to your men, to your comrades, is just as vital as serving at the front."

Bertie nodded, appreciating Tom's reassurance. "And what about you, Tom? How do you cope with not being able to serve?"

Tom's expression grew sombre. "It's a different kind of guilt for me. I had fully committed to being a conscientious objector, driven by my moral and political beliefs. But the army rejected me on medical grounds. I'll never have to state my objection, never face the consequences like the other objectors have."

Bertie empathised with his friend's predicament. "Your health is a valid reason, Tom. If you had objected, your skills in designing more efficient vehicles would have been invaluable. Your work in the steel industry is just as vital to the war effort. I am sure the war department would have given you a waiver."

Tom nodded in agreement. "You're right, Bertie. Sometimes, I feel a different kind of duty, a duty to contribute in the best way I can, given my circumstances. It’s the political mechanism I object to, not the actual men at the front, it’s them I want to aid."

The two friends fell into a contemplative silence, their thoughts filled with memories of college days, shared laughter, and now, the sobering reality of war. Bertie broke the silence, his voice softer. "I met Peter Pelham and Orwell Power at Brancaster on my last leave. They're well, given the circumstances. Peter has been working on extending the estate farms with my father, making them more efficient, like a lot of landowners they have lost many workers to the war effort. Orwell is doing his part at the front, as you know. But I thought he looked better than the last time I saw him, not as pallid and tired. They send their regards."

Tom raised his glass of sparkling water, and Bertie followed suit, and together they toasted to the fallen and to the enduring bonds of friendship that had carried them through their shared past and an uncertain future.

*

The evening was adorned with an air of anticipation as Mary meticulously prepared for the dinner party she had planned in Bertie's honour. Determined to make it a joyous occasion, she had invited Henry, Claire Mulberry, and Fleur Flowers to be their guests. Mary wanted Bertie's visit to be memorable and filled with warmth, a respite from the grim realities of the war.

Henry had managed to secure a large chicken for the occasion, which he had delivered directly to the house. Mrs. Harris, their trusted housekeeper, was busy in the kitchen, preparing a vegetable soup with thick-cut brown bread, roast chicken and vegetables, and a delightful fruit tart to follow, using fruit from the garden.

In consideration of Tom's heart condition, this evening's table beverages consisted of ginger beer and lemonade, a far cry from the spirits they used to indulge in. Everyone was dressing for dinner, with the men donning their tails and the women adorning elegant evening gowns.

Mary's excitement was palpable, and Tom couldn't help but smile at the sight of his radiant wife. Lately, they had both been under considerable stress, with Mary juggling the pressures of university and Tom's health condition looming over them. Mary chose to wear the same green dress she had worn on their honeymoon, and Tom couldn't resist stealing a passionate kiss from her in the privacy of their bedroom. Mary playfully scolded him for "mussing my hair."

Leaving Mary to put the finishing touches on her appearance, Tom took a moment to check that everything was in order. He ensured that the other rooms were tidy and that the dining room had been impeccably set for dinner. While Tom rarely partook in alcoholic beverages anymore, he made sure that a selection of sherry, Whiskey, and brandy was available for their guests who might prefer something stronger than sparkling water.

In the sitting room, Bertie joined Tom, admiring the warm and inviting atmosphere. "Your home is lovely," he complimented Tom. "The last time I saw it, it was just a shell."

"Thanks, Bertie," Tom replied with pride, "but it was Mary who added the finishing touches that made it a home."

A ringing bell signalled the arrival of their guests, and Maggie hurried to answer the door. Soon, the feminine voices of Fleur and Claire filled the hallway, and Mary made her entrance to greet them. She introduced Fleur and Claire to Bertie, although they were already acquainted with Tom from meeting at the university with Mary.

Their introductions were cut short by the arrival of the final guest, Henry. The group engaged in light-hearted banter and friendly conversation, with Tom offering a selection of beverages. They all chose their preferred drinks, with Tom and Mary opting for sparkling water. As Tom served sherry and whiskey to the rest, Henry couldn't help but express his appreciation for the fine spirits.

"Mmm! This is good stuff," Henry remarked with a satisfied grin.

"I bought a couple of bottles back when we were in Ireland before the war," Tom explained, sharing a fond memory.

The discussion soon evolved into a spirited debate over the superiority of whiskey versus whisky, a friendly argument they had enjoyed in many an Irish pub during their student days. Tom, in his typical fashion, championed Irish whiskey, while Bertie staunchly defended Scottish whisky. Henry, however, always seemed to support the underdog, lending his voice to the side that appeared to be losing.

With Maggie's discreet signal, Mary gracefully directed her guests through the double doors into the dining room, where they would savour their meal and continue their delightful conversation.

The dinner party was in full swing, the dining room bathed in a warm, intimate glow cast by a chandelier adorned with soft, glowing bulbs. The polished silverware and fine china gleamed under the soft candlelight, lending an air of elegance to the occasion.

Mrs. Harris, with Maggie's assistance, had outdone herself. The rich aroma of vegetable soup wafted through the room, accompanied by the enticing scent of roast chicken. Bertie, Henry, Claire, Mary, and Fleur were seated around the well-set table, their evening attire adding a touch of sophistication to the gathering.

Henry leaned in, complimenting the cook. "Mrs. Harris, this chicken is truly delicious. You've outdone yourself."

Mrs. Harris, her face glowing with pride, gave a modest nod. "Thank you, Mr. Brearerly. I'm delighted you're enjoying it."

With a playful twinkle in his eye, Tom raised his glass of ginger beer, proposing a toast. "To good friends and good food. May we have many more evenings like this."

The clink of glasses and murmurs of agreement filled the air as they savoured the hearty meal. As the main course came to an end, the conversation turned to lighter topics.

Fleur, her eyes shining with excitement, couldn't contain herself. "Have any of you heard of 'The Exploits of Elaine'? It's the latest serial picture starring Pearl White, and it's simply marvellous! The daring stunts she pulls off are incredible."

Mary, her interest piqued, joined in. "We saw 'The Perils of Pauline' recently, and it was equally thrilling. I'm glad to hear 'The Exploits of Elaine' is just as good. We should all go see it together."

Claire chimed in, her enthusiasm evident. "Absolutely! Movie nights are such a delightful way to unwind."

Bertie and Tom exchanged amused glances. They had always enjoyed the spirited debates over whiskey themselves when in university, and it was heartwarming to see their friends so animated.

After a lively discussion, Mary received a signal from Maggie, indicating that dinner was ready to progress to its next stage. She gracefully directed her guests through the double doors into the adjoining sitting room, where they could relax and enjoy dessert and coffee.

Over dessert, the conversation flowed seamlessly between discussions of movies, the latest university happenings, and fond reminiscences of their college days. The camaraderie in the room was palpable, a testament to the enduring bonds of friendship that had carried them through both joyful and challenging times.

As they savoured their fruit tart and sipped coffee, it was clear that Bertie's visit was a resounding success, a moment of respite and joy in a world overshadowed by the horrors of war. Plans for their movie night formed easily, an exciting prospect that they all looked forward to.

In that cosy flat, amidst laughter and shared memories, they found solace in each other's company, a beacon of light during the darkness.

*

The night air was crisp and cool as Mary, Tom, and Bertie made their way to the Picture House near the train station in Leeds. Excitement buzzed in the atmosphere as they anticipated a night of cinematic adventure. Mary had insisted on leading the way, eager to share her newfound enthusiasm for movies with her friends.

As they strolled through the bustling streets, their footsteps echoing on the cobblestones, Bertie couldn't help but marvel at the lively atmosphere of the city. "Leeds is quite different from the countryside," he commented.

Mary nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "It is indeed. But it has its own charm, don't you think? There's always something happening here."

Tom, walking beside them, added, "And tonight, it's the movies. You'll enjoy it, Bertie. It's a unique experience."

Arriving at the Picture House, they spotted Fleur and Claire waiting near the entrance. Laughter and greetings filled the air as they exchanged warm hellos.

"We're in for a treat tonight," Fleur exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "The Exploits of Elaine' promises thrills and excitement."

Claire nodded in agreement. "I've heard great things about it. And I must say, Mary, your enthusiasm for these movies is infectious."

Mary beamed, delighted by their shared enthusiasm. "Well, I believe we're in for a wonderful evening."

Before heading in to see the movie, Mary couldn't resist sharing one of her local favourites with her friends. "But first, we mustn't forget the fish and chips," she said with a mischievous grin.

They made their way to a nearby chipper that Mary had frequented, where the tantalising aroma of freshly fried fish and golden chips filled the air. Laughter and chatter ensued as they placed their orders, and Mary assured them that this was an experience not to be missed.

Sitting on a park bench nearby, they enjoyed their simple yet delicious meal, the flavours dancing on their taste buds. It was a testament to the simple joys of life, a respite from the weight of the world.

With satisfied appetites, they headed back to the Picture House, where anticipation for the movie ran high. The cinema was dimly lit, and they found their seats, settling in for the thrilling adventure of 'The Exploits of Elaine.'

The film transported them to a world of daring escapades and cunning villains, where the fearless heroine faced one perilous situation after another. Gasps and cheers echoed through the theatre as they were swept up in the suspenseful narrative.

As the credits rolled, Mary turned to her friends, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Wasn't that absolutely marvellous?"

Bertie, clearly impressed, nodded vigorously. "It was incredible! I never thought a movie could be so thrilling."

Fleur and Claire shared enthusiastic agreement, their faces lit up with excitement.

The night had been a resounding success, filled with laughter, suspense, and shared joy. As they left the Picture House and headed back to Tom and Mary's flat, their spirits were high, and their hearts were light.

In the cosy warmth of their home, they reminisced about their favourite scenes from the movie, their laughter filling the room. The world outside might have been engulfed in war, but for that brief moment, they had found solace and happiness in each other's company.

It was a night they would treasure, a memory that would shine brightly during dark times.

It was a sad moment the following morning when Tom and Mary had to wave good but to Bertie, as the captain headed back to his duties.

1916

Unexpected News

The late spring sun bathed the room in a warm, comforting light as Mary, Fleur, Brenda, Mrs. Finlay, and Mrs. Harris gathered once again on a Saturday to knit for the soldiers. The women had formed a close-knit group over the months, united by their shared efforts to support the soldiers at the front lines.

However, the weight of the war hung heavily on each of them. Mrs. Finlay had tragically lost one of her sons-in-law to the war during the harsh winter months. Brenda's husband, Kieran, had finally been conscripted, and though he was assigned to the motor pool due to his mechanical skills, it still filled Brenda's heart with worry. She had taken over running the family business, now juggling the responsibilities of her growing family and the demands of the garage.

On this particular spring day, as they knitted diligently for the soldiers, the three mothers in the group couldn't help but exchange knowing glances. They had observed a subtle change in Mary since January, one that they suspected was a harbinger of a significant life event. It seemed highly likely to the three women that Mary was pregnant, though she had not spoken a word about it. They weren't certain whether Mary's reticence was due to her naturally private nature or if she herself had yet to realise the signs.

Mrs. Finlay, a compassionate soul who had experienced the deepest sorrow of losing a loved one to the war, ventured to broach the topic. "Mary dear, you are positively glowing," she began, her gaze filled with concern.

Fleur, ever gentle and observant, chimed in. "Yes, Mary, how do you feel?" she asked, her eyes filled with warmth and curiosity.

Mary, caught off guard by her friends' inquisitiveness, puzzled over their words. "I feel fine, I have been more tired than usual lately, but my coursework at the university is very intense," she replied honestly.

The three mothers exchanged triumphant smiles, encouraged by Mary's response.

"You haven’t felt nauseous at all recently?" Mrs. Finlay prodded gently, seeking to clarify their suspicions.

Mary furrowed her brow, uncertain about the direction of their questions. "I have been feeling a little sick when I go to bed at night," she admitted, recalling the occasional discomfort.

Her friends shared concerned glances but were relieved by her response.

"What’s going on?" Mary asked, her confusion growing.

"Well, do you think you might be pregnant?" Brenda ventured to ask, her tone gentle and supportive.

Mary's eyes widened in shock at her friend's direct question. Her busy schedule and the intensity of her coursework had caused her to lose track of time and her cycle. As the realisation washed over her that she hadn't menstruated since before Christmas, her face drained of colour.

Mrs. Harris, ever attentive, quickly poured Mary a cup of tea and added a heaped teaspoon of sugar, offering a soothing comfort to her distressed friend. "Mary, we didn’t mean to upset you," she said softly, hoping to assuage Mary's concerns.

"No, you are right, I might be pregnant," Mary whispered, feeling a swirl of emotions as she processed this unexpected news. Her eyes glistened with tears, and her hands trembled.

Brenda leaned in, her voice gentle. "Mary, it's alright. These things happen, especially when love is involved."

Mary took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself. "I know, it's just... it's all so sudden, and I wasn't prepared for this."

Mrs. Harris, who had been quietly knitting a small scarf for the soldiers, put her work aside and joined in. "These things have a way of arriving when we least expect them, dear. It's a blessing, truly."

Mary nodded, her mind racing. Thoughts of her husband, Tom, filled her head. She hadn't had a chance to speak to him about this possibility, and she felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement at the thought of telling him.

"Oh, my God! How will I tell Tom?" Mary exclaimed, her cheeks now flushed with anxiety. She brought her hands to her face, trying to cool the warmth that had enveloped her.

"I just hope Tom will be as thrilled as you all are," Mary admitted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Mrs. Finlay reached out and squeezed Mary's hand reassuringly. "Whatever comes, Mary, you have friends here who will support you every step of the way."

Mary smiled through her emotions, grateful for the understanding and comfort her friends offered. She knew that this unexpected turn in her life would bring challenges, but with the support of her friends and her husband, she was ready to face them, one stitch at a time.

Her friends gathered around her, offering words of comfort, support, and well-wishes for the journey ahead.

*

The sun was gently setting outside, casting a warm glow into their living room as Mary and Tom sat together on the sofa. They had just returned from a pleasant walk through the park, hand in hand, their laughter carried on the breeze. Yet, there was a weighty matter that had been lingering in Mary's mind all day, and she couldn't put it off any longer.

Mary felt a swirl of emotions as she considered the possibility of pregnancy, and her heart raced as she tried to find the right words to share her news with Tom. That evening, when they were sitting together in the cosy living room of their Leeds flat, the moment finally arrived.

"Tom," she began, her voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation, "I think... I might be pregnant."

Tom's eyes widened with surprise and then filled with an unmistakable mixture of happiness and excitement. He reached out to take her hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "Mary," he said softly, "That's wonderful news."

A smile slowly spread across Mary's face as she looked into her husband's eyes. "You're happy about this?" she asked, needing to hear his confirmation.

Tom nodded earnestly. "More than happy, Mary. I'm overjoyed. We've talked about starting a family, and now it might just be happening."

Mary's heart swelled with love for this man who had been by her side through thick and thin. She squeezed his hand in return. "I've been so worried, Tom. Worried about how we'd manage with my studies, the war, and everything else."

Tom leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. "Mary, we'll manage. We'll manage wonderfully. I promise you that I'll support you in every way I can, during the pregnancy and after. Your studies are important, and we'll find a way to make it work. If you want to finish your degree, we'll make sure you do. This is our journey, and we'll take it together."

A sense of relief washed over Mary as Tom's words sank in. She had been concerned about how her ambitions and the war might affect their plans, but Tom's unwavering support was a source of great comfort. She knew she could count on him.

With a loving smile, Tom continued, "And just think, Mary, we're going to be parents. You'll be an amazing mother, and I can't wait to see our family grow."

Tears of joy welled up in Mary's eyes as she hugged Tom tightly. They were about to embark on a new chapter of their lives, one filled with hope, love, and the anticipation of the arrival of their child.

Spreading the News

Lady Louise had finished her dinner and was now settled by the fire in her Townhouse in London, she had moved from Dublin, her home for many years due to the civil unrest in the Irish capital, being part of the English Aristocracy, she didn’t think it was a good idea to remain in the city.

She received correspondence every day from her friends, family, acquaintances, and letters of business. But there was always one correspondent she eagerly anticipated above all others, her son Tom. She cherished his letters and kept them all as her secret treasure.

Lady Louise sat by the fire, her heart filled with joy and anticipation as she read Tom's letter. The news of impending grandparenthood had warmed her heart, even if it was a secret she had to keep. As she pondered the months ahead and how to visit Tom, Mary, and her future grandchild, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement.

With a sense of purpose, she retrieved her diary from the study and carefully turned to the calendar for the year 1916. Her mind raced with ideas, trying to figure out the best way to be near her family when the baby arrived. Lady Louise was determined to be a part of her grandchild's life, even if it meant some strategic planning.

She remembered her cousin Lady Jane Stuart and the charity event she was hosting at her estate near Sheffield in October. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to be in the vicinity of Leeds and to visit Tom and Mary. She made a mental note to write her cousin and offer her assistance in planning the event, a move that would provide her with a valid reason to be in the area.

As Lady Louise continued to flip through her diary, her thoughts turned to the knitting pattern she had held onto for years, the same pattern she had used to knit her own son's christening gown. It was a treasured heirloom, and she knew that passing it on to Mary as a gift would be a meaningful gesture to welcome the newest member of their family. She made a note to herself to send the pattern and the necessary wool to Mary soon.

With her plans beginning to take shape, Lady Louise felt a sense of purpose and excitement about the future. She was ready to embrace her role as a grandmother and do whatever it took to be close to her beloved family in Leeds when the time came.

Last Day

Captain Orwell Power lay amidst the chaos of the battlefield, his once immaculate uniform now caked in mud and blood. Explosions reverberated through the air, a relentless cacophony that served as a constant reminder of the grim reality he faced. He was hit, hit bad, and he knew it. The searing pain coursing through his body told him that his days were numbered.

As he lay there, the images of those he loved flickered through his mind like a series of old photographs.

He thought of Peter, his beloved, his partner in life. Regret gnawed at him, knowing he was leaving Peter alone in a world that could be cruel and unforgiving. He hoped that their dear friends, Bertie and Tom, would provide the support and comfort Peter would undoubtedly need in the days ahead. He couldn't bear the idea of Peter drowning in sorrow.

A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he recalled his mother's touch, her gentle hand on his brow when he was just a sick child. She used to kiss each of her son’s goodnight, a tradition they eventually outgrew. In this moment, Orwell longed for the comfort of his mother's presence. How he wished she were here with him now.

His thoughts shifted to his father, a harsh man of strength and honour. He hoped that his actions on this fateful day would make his father proud, even though they added yet another layer of sorrow to his father's life after losing Orwell's eldest and youngest brothers.

Then there was his youngest brother, the one who had left this world far too soon at the tender age of sixteen. Orwell couldn't help but smile at the memory of that cheeky grin, the one that always preceded some outrageous stunt. His fair hair, forever falling into his eyes, which was something he tried to tame with their father's pomade.

A catch in his breath and a surge of emotion gripped him as he thought of Tom, his dear friend with the same smile as his beloved brother, the way his fair hair would fall into Tom’s eyes. From the moment they met, Orwell had sensed a strange familiarity about Tom, a connection that had eluded him until now. The realisation struck him like a thunderbolt – Tom was more than a friend, he was likely another brother, a brother he would never have the chance to meet in that capacity.

With a final gaze at the sky, Orwell's breath grew shallow, his lifeblood seeping into the unforgiving earth. The battlefield sounds faded into oblivion, his vision darkening, until there was nothing but silence and an endless void.

Dreadful News

Tom sat at his desk, the early morning light filtering through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. He had just finished reading a letter from Bertie, his friend from university, when he felt a sinking feeling in his chest. The words on the page were heavy, carrying the weight of a painful truth.

Orwell Power, their close friend and former classmate, had been killed in action on the battlefield. Tom's heart sank as he reread the words, as if hoping that the message had been a cruel mistake. But there was no denying the sombre reality of the news.

Tom's thoughts were filled with memories of his dear friend Orwell, a man he had come to regard as a brother.

Tom's thoughts turned to Peter, Orwell's partner, the man Orwell had loved deeply. He knew the news would be devastating for Peter, and it weighed heavily on his heart. Peter had already endured so much loss in his life, and this would be a crushing blow.

He knew he had to act, not only for the memory of their friend but also to offer support to Peter in this trying time. Tom picked up a pen and began to write a letter to Bertie, expressing his condolences for their shared loss and offering any assistance he could provide.

*

A few days later, Tom received a telegram from Bertie, urging him to go to Brancaster Castle in Northumberland. The urgency in Bertie's message was palpable, and Tom wasted no time in making the necessary arrangements.

He spoke with Mary about the situation, explaining the circumstances and the need to be there for Peter. Mary, too, mourned the loss of the quiet and intelligent man who had stayed in their home, ever understanding and compassionate, she readily agreed to accompany him. Tom telegraphed the staff at Brancaster Castle, informing them of their impending arrival.

With their bags packed, Tom and Mary made their way to the central train station, where they would embark on the journey to Brancaster. Tom carried both their cases, mindful of Mary's condition, as he hoped to provide comfort and support to their grieving friend and to offer Peter a shoulder to lean on in his time of need.

*

Upon their arrival at Brancaster station, they were met by the estate chauffeur and motor, a welcome relief as Mary was five months pregnant and showing. Tom's concern for her well-being was paramount.

At the castle, they were received by Mr. Jervis, the Marquess's butler. Tom wasted no time in inquiring about Peter's condition. The news was disheartening. Peter had retreated to his room and hadn't left since hearing of Orwell's death.

Tom made his way to Peter's room, while Mr. Jervis escorted Mary to their quarters. Knocking gently on the door, Tom called out, announcing his presence. The room was dimly lit, curtains drawn to shut out the world.

Approaching the bed, Tom reached out, placing his hand where he believed Peter's shoulder lay beneath the covers. He sat down on the edge of the bed and spoke softly, "Peter, it's me, Tom."

Tom informed Peter that Mary had also arrived and was being shown to their room by Mr. Jervis. He gently broached the idea of Peter joining them downstairs, but all he saw was a slight movement under the covers, a silent refusal.

With nothing more to say, Tom chose to sit silently by his friend's side, offering his silent support and understanding in this time of mourning.

*

Tom and Mary sat in the drawing room of Brancaster Castle, a warm fire crackling in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The room was filled with an air of quiet sadness after the loss of Orwell, but the two of them were determined to offer what comfort they could to Peter, their dear friend.

Peter had withdrawn from the world, taking refuge in his room, his grief seemingly insurmountable. Tom and Mary had been taking turns visiting him, sitting with him in silence, offering a comforting presence.

On this particular day, they decided to broach the subject of Peter coming to stay with them in Leeds. They believed that a change of scenery might help him heal, surrounded by friends who cared deeply for him.

Tom cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. "Peter," he began gently, "we've been thinking... Mary and I, we'd like you to come and stay with us in Leeds for a while."

Peter turned his gaze from the window, where he had been staring absently, to Tom. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his face bore the signs of sleepless nights and tears. "I appreciate the offer, Tom, but I don't know if I can bear to leave this place just yet. It's the place where Orwell and I were happiest."

Mary reached out and placed a comforting hand on Peter's. "We understand, Peter. We truly do. But staying here, surrounded by memories of your love... it might make it even harder for you to heal."

Tom nodded in agreement. "Leeds is a different place, far from the reminders of your loss. You can have some time away from this pain and grief, with people who care about you."

Peter's eyes welled up with tears as he considered their words. He knew they were right, but the thought of leaving Brancaster was daunting. "What about the estate, the responsibilities?" he asked.

Mary offered a reassuring smile. "Your land agent Mr Pelham and his family are more than capable of handling things here in your absence. We'll make sure everything is taken care of."

Tom leaned in closer to Peter, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Peter, we're not asking you to forget Orwell or move on. We're just asking you to take a respite, to heal in a different place, surrounded by friends who love you."

After a long moment of contemplation, Peter nodded slowly. "All right, I'll do it. I'll come to Leeds with you both."

Mary and Tom exchanged relieved glances, grateful that Peter had agreed to their proposal. They knew that healing would take time, but they were willing to be there for him every step of the way.

*

During his six-week stay with Mary and Tom in Leeds, Peter embarked on a journey of healing. Away from the haunting memories of Brancaster Castle, he found solace in the company of his friends, the bustling city, and the warm embrace of Mary and Tom.

In the first few days, Peter spent most of his time quietly, often sitting by the window in their cosy flat, staring out at the unfamiliar cityscape. Tom and Mary allowed him the space he needed, understanding the weight of his grief.

Slowly, they encouraged him to join them on short walks, exploring the parks and streets of Leeds. They visited local shops and cafes, introducing Peter to the vibrant life of the city. Mary's pregnancy was progressing steadily, and Peter couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope as he witnessed the anticipation of new life.

As the weeks passed, Tom and Mary invited friends and acquaintances over for small gatherings, carefully selecting those who could provide comfort and support to Peter. Fleur, Henry, and Claire, who had accompanied them to the picture house, became regular visitors. Their shared laughter and conversations eased Peter's heartache, reminding him that life could still hold moments of joy.

Tom also involved Peter in his work with the steel industry, sharing the exciting developments and innovations happening in the field. It was during these discussions that Peter found a renewed sense of purpose and interest, slowly rekindling his intellectual curiosity.

Mary, with her warm and nurturing nature, ensured Peter's physical and emotional needs were met. She had the housekeeper prepare nutritious meals, encouraged him to talk about his feelings, and often sat with him, knitting and sharing stories. Peter discovered that Mary had a knack for storytelling, and her tales of her own trials and triumphs at university provided inspiration.

By the end of the six weeks, Peter had made significant progress in his healing journey. While the pain of Orwell's loss would never truly vanish, he felt more capable of carrying that burden. Tom and Mary knew it was time for Peter to return to Brancaster, and they could see in his eyes that he was ready.

On the day of his departure, they packed his belongings and saw him off at the train station. Mary's belly had grown, a visible sign of the life they were eagerly anticipating. They exchanged heartfelt goodbyes, promising to stay in touch and visit each other whenever possible.

Peter returned to Brancaster Castle with newfound strength and resilience. His cousin, Mr. Pelham, had managed the estate admirably in his absence, and Peter felt grateful for the support of his family and friends. As he settled back into the familiar surroundings of his ancestral home, he carried with him the memories of his time in Leeds, a place where he had found healing, hope, and the enduring friendship of Mary and Tom.

Condolences

As Lord William Power sat alone in his study, tears welled in his eyes, and he found himself weeping into his whiskey glass. The weight of grief bore heavily upon him. His third son, Orwell, a quiet and sensible man, had met his untimely end. The tragedy was profound, and he never imagined he would see the day when he wept in such a manner.

Across the estate, Lady Margaret, his wife, was likewise devastated. She had retreated to her room, allowing only her ladies' maid to enter. Grief had gripped her heart to the point where even the comforting presence of her husband could not console her.

Lord Power's desk was strewn with letters and cards of condolences from friends, acquaintances, and well-wishers. He had delegated the task of replying to most of these to his man of business, for the sheer volume of correspondence was overwhelming. Only the closest of friends and family received his personal responses.

Amid the sea of condolences, Lord Power's gaze fell upon an unfamiliar postmark from Leeds. His heart quickened as he recognised the sender's return address: Tom Branson. Tom was his illegitimate son, and though he had kept this secret for years, he knew that his son, Orwell, had been friends with Tom through Orwell’s correspondence with his father.

With trembling hands, Lord Power opened the envelope and read the letter from Tom. Tom's words were filled with kindness, offering heartfelt condolences for the loss of Orwell. He spoke of Orwell's virtues, how he had looked up to him, and how Orwell had often spoken of his brothers and his father with pride.

As Lord Power finished reading the letter, a profound realisation washed over him. His son, Orwell, had spoken of him to Tom. Tom knew of him through Orwell's perspective, and apparently, it had been a positive one. This revelation brought a glimmer of hope to Lord Power's grieving heart.

The thought that he had another son, one who was not directly involved in the war, lifted Lord Power's spirits. It kindled a desire for reconnection and reconciliation. Lord Power contemplated reaching out to his estranged lover, Louise, reconsidering their long-standing agreement for secrecy. The losses he had endured during the war had changed him, and he was willing to endure some public embarrassment if it meant having his youngest son and family back in his life. At his age, he cared more for family and love than the judgments of society.

Prototype

Mary watched from a distance as the Red Cross lorry, the product of months of hard work and dedication, was being loaded with essential supplies for the front lines. The prototype for the 4WD lorry had undergone extensive testing and was now ready for its real-world mission. Tom had discussed a plan with Attercliffe Motors Ltd to donate the vehicle to the Red Cross, recognising the potential benefits for both parties. It was a gesture that could not only serve a noble cause but also potentially generate future orders and goodwill for the company.

Mary had been instrumental in organising collections at the Steel Mill, rallying the support of the workers to contribute to the cause. The idea of combining their efforts with the Red Cross had resonated with many, and the prospect of positive publicity for both the mill and the company was enticing.

However, the primary challenge lay in finding skilled drivers who could make full use of the 4WD capabilities of the new lorry. Tom, always one to lead by example, volunteered his services to drive the vehicle. A couple of other men who had been part of the testing process also stepped forward, offering to drive until the Red Cross could provide their own drivers and suitable training.

Mary, now six months pregnant, had her reservations. She understood Tom's commitment to helping the soldiers at the front, especially after the loss of their friend Orwell. However, she couldn't shake the fear that Tom might take unnecessary risks in his eagerness to support the cause.

The day finally arrived when the lorry was ready to depart. Mary stood stoically, her hand resting protectively over her growing belly, as she watched Tom prepare to leave. She had agreed to his volunteering, knowing how vital this project was to him and how much good it could do for those in need. Still, it was difficult to hide her concern and the worry that gnawed at her as she waved him off on that August day.

Unexpected Meeting

October in 1916 found Lady Mary Branson amidst the hustle and bustle of the Barlow Steel Mill, a place that had become a significant part of her life due to her husband's investments before the war. The mill thrived, thanks to Tom's shrewd improvements in process control. As the autumn chill set in, Mary found herself overseeing the loading of a Red Cross lorry, a crucial mission that involved delivering much-needed supplies to France.

Mary, now over seven months pregnant, couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction and responsibility in her role. She was no stranger to hard work, and even though she wasn't doing the heavy lifting herself, the job often got dirty. She had asked Tom to procure her some work clothes, realising that her usual business attire, the kind she wore to university, was wholly unsuitable for this task, especially as her options for comfortable clothing had dwindled, with her growing belly.

Dressed practically in work trousers, sturdy boots, and a man's work coat cinched around her growing belly, Mary blended in with the factory workers. A smudge of dirt marked her face, and her hair was hastily tied in a sweaty plait. Her attire was a stark contrast to her pre-war fashion, but she had adapted to her new role with determination.

Amidst the organised chaos of supply loading, Mary heard her name called. She turned around and was taken aback by the sight of her cousin Isobel. It had been over three years since Mary had seen anyone from her family, after her father unjustly exiled her from the family estate. Mary waved and walked over to her cousin, offering a warm greeting.

"Cousin Isobel," Mary said with a smile, genuinely surprised by the unexpected encounter. "What a surprise to meet you here."

Isobel explained that she had just attended a hospital board meeting, which was fitting given her dedication to war work. Mary nodded in acknowledgment and gestured to the activity around her. "As you can see, I am loading a Red Cross lorry. I organised the collection of the supplies at this factory."

Their conversation flowed naturally, catching up on family matters and life at Downton Abbey. Isobel shared that everyone was well, highlighting Matthew's new rank as a Captain in the Army. The mention of Matthew stirred a mix of pride and worry in Mary, who expressed her hopes for his safety. They also discussed Sybil's marriage to Matthew, a topic that carried both joy and a hint of sorrow.

Before the conversation could become too emotionally charged, Tom Branson joined them. Mary introduced her husband, and Isobel observed their interaction with a warm smile. Tom, dressed in practical work attire, had an air of earnestness as he greeted Mrs. Crawley. Mary watched their interaction closely, thankful for the moments of connection amidst the chaos of wartime.

As Tom informed Mary that the lorry was ready, his wistful smile didn't go unnoticed. Mary knew that her husband was about to embark on a long and potentially dangerous journey to France to deliver the Red Cross supplies. She made sure to give him a proper kiss goodbye, not caring that Isobel was there to witness their affection.

"The lorry is ready now, I’ll have to be off, love," Tom told her, and Mary watched with a sense of longing as he climbed into the cab, ready to drive off into the unknown.

"Tom volunteers to drive the Red Cross lorry to France," Mary explained to Isobel, her voice filled with both pride and concern for her husband's safety.

With Tom's departure imminent, Mary knew she had to go. One of her friends and fellow volunteers, Brenda, called her name. Mary waved to Isobel one final time before turning to walk towards Brenda.

"Who was that?" Brenda inquired as Mary joined her.

"My cousin Isobel," Mary replied, still processing the unexpected encounter. "I haven't seen anyone from my family in three years."

Brenda, who had become privy to the full story of how Mary and Tom came to be married, gently asked, "How do you feel?"

Mary sighed softly, her hand instinctively resting on her rounded belly. "I feel like I miss them," she admitted, a hint of melancholy in her voice.

"Maybe it's time to mend fences?" Brenda suggested, her words carrying a sense of hope.

"Maybe," Mary replied, her thoughts a mix of uncertainty and the undeniable desire to reconnect with her family, especially now with a child on the way.

End