Finally, FINALLY! The third and final installment of this story. I am deeply embarrassed that it took me this long, but finding time to write lately have been a major challenge. Merry Christmas, YC! (Though I should be saying Happy Valentine's Day at this point ;p)

This is the resolution of the Bates storyline, Mary's storyline and the servants ball. There are a couple of conversations from the CS to keep in mind here, the one that Mary and Matthew have in which he tells her to "brave the storm" and the break-up scene with Richard, in which Matthew comes in, fisticuffs happen and a vase gets broken. I didn't include those in their entirety, but I think it's clear enough when they happen and they do happen more or less like they do on the show. Let me know what you think!

The house was quiet as dawn broke on December 30th. Sybil had continued to take her breakfast in bed since their first morning at the house, and on this morning, she admitted to not feeling especially well to boot, so Tom once again proceeded to breakfast alone.

Richard had been staying at the house the whole time the Bransons had been there, but he'd gone back to London the previous morning and was due to return to Downton that afternoon. So it was that Robert was alone when Tom came into the dining room. Tom hesitated for a moment at the door, but before he could turn back, Carson spotted him from his spot at the head of the serving table and said, "Good morning, Mr. Branson," in his usual deep, dour voice.

Robert turned to the door, and Tom saw in his face that whatever sleep Robert had gotten the previous night had been fitful. Tom hadn't been lying or exaggerating when he'd called Robert a fair employer when speaking to Richard on Christmas, but it was still startling for Tom to see just how hard Robert was taking Bates' death sentence. Tom knew that Robert's anger over how the trial had unfolded and, ultimately, the verdict had to do with Robert's disbelief over his position not having been enough to change the outcome. The man simply couldn't believe that his money and influence had not had the desired effect. Tom wondered just how much one had to have to believe that the outcome he expected would always come to pass. Even so, however, there was no denying that Robert cared for Bates and had done more to seek justice on his behalf than most men of his position would have done.

Seeing that there was no escape, that he'd have to be alone with Robert and Carson, Tom walked all the way into the room. Robert went back to the newspaper he'd been reading, and after getting his breakfast, Tom sat down on the chair to Robert's right. Robert looked at him over the top of the newspaper but said nothing.

Bates would never be allowed to sit at this table, Tom thought, as he looked down at his food. Robert was a fair man and more compassionate, perhaps, than many of his class. But he's still who he is, and his rules are still what they are.

As he tucked in, Tom couldn't help but smirk, knowing that he shouldn't enjoy the food too much. Once he and Sybil were back in Dublin, porridge would be the order of the day once more.

"What's funny?"

Robert's question startled Tom, who didn't realize Robert had been watching him as he took his first bite. Once he'd swallowed, Tom said, "What?"

"You were smiling just then," Robert said. "I can't imagine what anyone in this house has to be mirthful about on such a day."

"Oh . . . I was only reminding myself not to get used to eating such rich food in the morning. Eggs and sausages are very rare indulgences for us."

Robert's already stern expression only grew more so. "But you have enough to eat? You can tell me all you like about how Sybil doesn't miss this life, but are you at least able to muster enough so that she doesn't go hungry."

Tom set his fork down trying not to get angry and trying to give Robert the benefit of the doubt. He's a concerned father—that's all. "No," he said as calmly as he could. "We aren't going hungry. Just because we don't live like you do doesn't mean we don't live well."

Tom wanted to say more, but he didn't want to upset the careful balance that had emerged between him and his father-in-law over the past week, not when they'd only be there for two more days and certainly not when Sybil had been so happy. He picked up his fork again and took another bite, now more self-conscious about what was on his plate.

"Is she happy?"

Tom looked at Robert again.

"I just want to know . . . is she happy?"

"You could ask her," Tom said.

"I could, but I know she'd say she was regardless of whether it was true because she's far too stubborn to admit she might have made a mistake."

"I wonder where she gets that from."

The words were out of Tom's mouth before he realized he was saying them aloud. Tom could feel Carson puff up in indignation from the corner of the room where he was standing. Robert's eyes widened in affront and for a moment Tom wondered if Robert had forgotten that Tom was no longer a chauffeur who was required to be deferential. Robert let out an annoyed-sounding breath and went back to his newspaper.

"She is," Tom said more quietly, "happy, that is—very happy. But she misses you. And she was very sorry that you were not there to see her get married."

Robert's jaw tightened, but Tom could see a mix of emotions in Robert's eyes, including something like regret.

"A part of her will always be here with you, but it was a part of her that she was happy to leave behind. She wants to live in a world in which the likes of you and the likes of me can coexist. That's why we came back—I'm . . . I'm trying to do my bit. I want nothing more but for her to be happy, and I hope that's true of you as well."

"It is. And if she really is happy, then I'm glad."

A charged, but not entirely uncomfortable silence hung between them for several minutes, before Tom asked, "Any news from the Home secretary?"

"No," Robert answered with a sigh. "It'll be a long day of waiting for a simple telegram."

Tom nodded and continued to eat, as Robert sipped what was left of his tea. Robert began folding up his newspaper and looked like he was about to stand when Thomas came in with a tray holding a small piece of paper.

"Milord?" He said, approaching the table.

"Already?" Robert said looking at the paper on the tray.

He looked over at Tom in disbelief, and Tom wondered whether it was fear of its contents that kept him from tearing into it immediately. Indeed, Robert contemplated the piece of paper, held it in his hands, for what felt to Tom like an eternity before finally opening it. The way Robert's shoulders sank as he read the contents made Tom assume the worst.

"He hasn't been spared?"

"No," Robert said. "I mean, not yet. It's not from the Home Office. It's from Murray. He was there early this morning and will have Bates' case heard this afternoon. We'll have the decision tomorrow." Robert turned toward Carson. "Carson, please let Anna know."

"Of course, milord," Carson answered.

"Thank you, Thomas," Robert said, dismissing him. "I've half a mind to travel to London today myself," Robert added after Thomas had gone.

"Will you?" Tom asked.

Robert sighed. "It won't do any good. The man will just feel badgered and may decide not to intercede just for that reason. Our only option is to wait."

xxx

The rest of the day passed quietly. Once Robert shared the news of the telegram he'd received that morning, with little to do but wait, everyone more or less kept to themselves. After breakfast, once Sybil was feeling better and up and dressed, she and Tom went for another walk to the village, paying a short visit to Crawley House to see Isobel and Matthew.

Sybil was grateful for how easily they had welcomed Tom into their fold. As Sybil watched Tom and Matthew talk, she felt a pang in her heart for Mary. Even though Sybil's life with Tom was in Dublin, Sybil thought that if Matthew and Mary could somehow find their way to each other again, Sybil would enjoy knowing that her husband and Mary's got on so well. Sybil hoped that Mary would go through with her idea of breaking her engagement with Sir Richard. Even if Mary went to New York, Sybil knew that so long as Mary was no longer engaged, there was a shred of hope that the marriage that everyone wanted would eventually happen.

Matthew joined Sybil and Tom as they walked back to the house for luncheon with the family. Matthew knew there was little he could do, but even so, he felt compelled to go. In particular, he wanted to talk to Mary. Something she had said to him recently had unsettled him and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. Sybil didn't know his intent, of course. She wanted to say something that would spur Matthew into action regarding Mary, but she wouldn't betray her sister's confidence, and anyway, if Matthew would need that much prodding, if he couldn't see now that Mary wasn't happy, then perhaps he couldn't see her the way he needed to.

Luncheon was served not too long after the three arrived, but once they were all seated, no one was much inclined toward conversation. After, Matthew found himself alone in the library, wondering whether it would be wise to say anything at all to Mary. No opportunity presented itself for him to speak to her in private and he was afraid of pulling her away when others were around, lest he draw further attention to whatever it was seemed to be weighing on her. He'd resolved to leave just then, when she came in, looking like she herself had been looking for a chance to speak with him.

"I was just leaving," Matthew said, standing as she walked up to him.

"Oh? Why?"

"I didn't want to be in the way."

"You're not. How could you ever be?"

Matthew smiled in response.

"Why did you come today?" She asked. "Did Papa summon you?"

"As a matter of fact, I came to see you. I wanted to find out what you meant when you said you had to marry Carlisle and that I'd despise you if I knew the reason."

Mary's shoulders sagged. "Yes, you would."

"Whatever it is, it cannot be enough for you to marry him."

"That's what Papa said."

"So, you told him?"

"Yes," she answered quietly.

"And does he despise you?"

Mary took a deep breath. "He's . . . very disappointed in me."

"Even so . . . please tell me."

Standing just outside the doors of the library, Sybil hadn't meant to overhear as much as she had, and at Matthew's words, she pushed the door until it was only slightly ajar (lest the click of the knob give away her presence) in an effort to give them some privacy.

Hearing Tom coming up behind her, she turned and put her finger to her lips.

"What are you doing?" He asked in a whisper.

"I'm hoping for the best."

xxx

Matthew was long gone by the time Richard returned from London that afternoon. The mood remained solemn around the house at tea time to the point that he wondered if they'd actually received the bad news about Bates in his absence. By the time it was time to change for dinner, Sybil did so on her own, having sent word downstairs that she didn't want to add to Anna's work on such a difficult day for her. Even without help, she managed to finish before Tom, who remained rather confounded by his new clothing even after having worn his tails most of the week. Once he was finally finished, he looked over at Sybil for her to give him her seal of approval. She was standing by the window looking out.

He called out to her, but she didn't answer. He did so again and again she failed to respond. Finally, he walked over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders, which startled her and pulled her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Is everything all right, love?"

Sybil turned and took his hands in hers. "Do you suppose we're ready to have children?"

Tom's eyebrows shot up at the question, and he thought for a moment. "I don't know that anyone ever truly feels ready. I suppose it would be nice to be a bit more financially secure, but my parents managed five kids with less than we have . . ." He looked Sybil in the eyes and smiled, "I love you and I love our life and I know I will love any and all children that come along, so if you want to start making a concerted effort, then I'm all for it." He leaned in and began to kiss her on the neck, just below her right ear, whispering, "Though I can't imagine how much more often we can do it than we already do."

Sybil giggled at his words and ministrations, closing her eyes as his lips moved from just below her ear to her shoulder, where he gently moved the strap of her dress with his hand. "Actually, darling, that's all taken care of. All that's left to do is the preparation."

Her words stopped Tom cold. He pulled back slowly, his eyes wide with surprise, joy and—Sybil couldn't help but notice, to her great relief—a trace of panic. "You mean . . ."

Sybil nodded.

"Already?"

Sybil laughed. "Tom, you just said it yourself. We're intimate several times a day on most days. I'm rather surprised it took as long as it did."

Tom laughed too and pulled her into a tight embrace, which Sybil happily sank into.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

Tom pulled back. "Of course, I am. Aren't you?"

"I am happy . . . and nervous—well, terrified really. It's a joyful terror, of course, but I can't help but worry. We won't have my income for some time and—"

"We'll be fine," Tom said pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry about what we don't have—"

"Only treasure what we do," Sybil finished for him, quoting the words so often said by his mother.

"How did you find out, anyway? Did you sneak off to Dr. Clarkson some time this week that I didn't notice?"

Sybil shook her head. "I went to the doctor back in Dublin. I've known for several weeks, as a matter of fact—more than a month, really."

"And you've kept it a secret all this time? Why didn't you tell me before?"

Sybil sighed. "Mama's letter. It arrived just as I was starting to suspect, and her invitation put the idea in my head that I could tell everyone I loved this wonderful news all at once."

"But you haven't. Is it because of Bates?"

"Yes. With his trial being so close to Christmas it didn't seem right. Then I thought I'd do it at New Year's, as a way to mark a new blessing that 1920 would bring us. But the shadow of his sentence will hang over that now, so I'd made up my mind to wait until we got back to Dublin, but seeing Isobel this morning a flurry of questions came into my mind. You see, she was a mother who worked alongside her husband, and I'd like to think that nursing is something I could go back to. So while you and Matthew talked I asked her about all sorts of things related to her work and being a mother—so many that I wouldn't be surprised if she suspects something now. And I couldn't keep holding it back from you, even if we keep the news to ourselves for the rest of the time we're here."

Tom smiled. "I'm glad you told me. Nothing could make me happier, my darling, but don't let the bad news of the day keep you from sharing something that would brighten your family's spirits—at least I would hope it would be welcome news."

Sybil snickered. "Papa will, no doubt, make some silly remark about a having Fenian grandchild, but not even that will ruin my happiness."

"Nor mine," Tom said, grinning back. After a moment, he added, "If you don't want to tell them now, it's your choice, love, but honestly, I think they'd rather like hearing it from you instead of reading it in a letter."

"All right. Let's go down, and we'll tell them together."

Hand in hand, the two walked down to the drawing room where everyone, including Isobel and Matthew, was already gathered, waiting for them and for Carson to announce dinner."

Sybil stepped to the head of the room, not unlike—Tom thought—the way she had all those years ago when she came in wearing her remarkable frock, the one he'd spied her in from the window. Noticing that she obviously had something to say, all eyes turned toward her and Tom, who stood slightly behind her.

After clearing her throat slightly, she began, "Tom and I wanted to share something with you. I know that this has been in a difficult day, and although we hope for the best tomorrow, when we hear from the Home secretary, the darkness might yet get worse. So in an effort to bring a more hopeful note to the new year, we thought we'd let you know that . . . " Sybil paused for a moment, feeling her heart start to race, suddenly unsure of the faces staring back at her, thinking of how they'd reacted the last time she was in this room with Tom by her side to make life-changing announcement. She felt Tom pull her hand into his and squeeze gently. She looked back at him, smiling, grateful for the support. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, "We thought we'd let you know that I . . . that is, we . . . well, our first child is on its way."

Several gasps echoed through the room. This time, though, the disillusionment and anger of only months ago were replaced by good cheer and disbelief. Cora wasted no time in standing from where she sat and walking over to Sybil and taking both of her hands. "Oh, thank you, darling, for this wonderful news."

Tom watched Sybil's eyes glaze over with tears, as if she'd truly feared what the her parents might say. Cora noticed too and smiled as her own eyes watered. Tom had always thought that, physically at least, Sybil was a mix of both of her parents, but in this moment, he saw how much more Sybil favored her mother and found himself silently wishing for a daughter with the same brown hair and blue eyes and the same adventurous spirit that took them both from everything they knew toward a new country and their future.

"Well," Cora said, turning back to the rest of the group, "this dinner is a celebration of sorts. Carson, will you bring some champagne so we may toast."

"Certainly, my lady," he said, from his corner. "I'll go see to it now."

After he'd gone, the rest of the party took their turns approaching Sybil and Tom to offer their congratulations and best wishes. The last was Robert, and as he approached, the smile that had lit up Sybil's face in the last few minutes dimmed slightly.

"Are you happy for us papa?" Sybil asked.

He looked back and forth between his daughter and the man who had once been his servants. "I should hope that the child turns out as rebellious as you've been, so you may get your just desserts."

Sybil laughed. "Is that really all you have to say?"

"I don't know what his or her life will be like—that's an odd thing to say about a grandchild—but if your spirit lives on in your children, then happiness will never be hard for them to find. It never seems to be for you."

Sybil smiled. "I take that as the highest of compliments."

Robert smiled back, albeit reluctantly. Turning to Tom he said, "I've no doubt you remember my threat about the wild dogs. It goes double for the child."

"As I said then, I expect no less."

After Robert had walked away, Tom added in a whisper to Sybil, "Though I think Isis rather likes me."

Sybil laughed, knowing that fact to be quite true.

Carson eventually returned, and Robert led a toast to the family's next generation and the hope that peaceful and prosperous times would follow them always.

After dinner, the women moved on to the drawing room, where Cora peppered Sybil with questions as to how she'd been feeling, gently suggesting that she quit her job at once. Sybil immediately replied that she'd continue to work so long as she felt physically able and so long as her hospital allowed her to in her condition. Isobel reminded Cora that plenty of women work through their pregnancies without harm to the child to which Violet replied, "Sybil only married a servant, Isobel. She didn't become one."

As the older ladies, with Edith among them, continued the conversation, Sybil stepped away, noticing Mary sitting alone quietly across the room. Mary loved seeing Sybil so happy, and she wondered whether such happiness would come to her in her current course.

"I suppose I should be embarrassed that I'm the third daughter but the first to bear a child," Sybil said sitting next to her.

Mary smiled. "Why should you be? You're right on schedule. It's Edith and I who are woefully behind."

"The only schedule that matters is when you're ready and when you're truly happy, and that's determined only by you."

"Is it, really?" Mary said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "So many other forces seem to be at play for me."

"Just because they're there doesn't mean you have to let them matter."

Mary sighed. "You know, I never feel lacking in confidence until I stand next to you and realize that you took the lion's share when it came to emotional strength among the three of us."

Sybil took Mary's hand. "Well, you know how I feel about it, but do what you will and I'll support you no matter what."

Mary smiled and stood. "I'll be back shortly."

Sybil watched her as she left, again hoping for the best.

xxx

After the ladies had gone, Robert and Matthew had stayed in the dining room talking with Tom about his impending fatherhood and Tom and Sybil's return to Dublin in a few days. Robert kept trying to suggest to Tom that he leave his current paper for a better position. Tom acknowledged that he'd need a steadier income when the baby came, but said he'd sooner return to doing mechanic's work on the side rather than write for a paper that was loyal to the monarch, as Robert was suggesting, even if they offered to pay him with the crown jewels.

Richard, never one for idle chatter, had excused himself early on and gone to the library, which was where Mary found him.

xxx

"Where did Mary and granny go?" Edith asked Sybil.

"I think Mary went in search of Sir Richard," Sybil said. "I don't know about granny."

Cora stood from her spot next to Isobel on the sofa. "I'd have thought the men would have joined us by now. It's possible your father wants to retire early again tonight, but he'd have come in to say good night."

Tom came in as she spoke, as if on cue.

"There you are, darling," Sybil said. "We were about to send out a search party."

"Did Robert go up?" Cora asked.

"I don't think so . . . I heard him and Matthew in the library just now. I think they were quarreling with Sir Richard, but I'm not sure. I didn't want to intrude."

"Quarreling?!" Cora exclaimed, immediately heading for the hall. Edith and Sybil followed her, unable to abate their curiosity, with Sybil pulling Tom along behind her. Isobel eventually came after them, not wanting to be left out of whatever was afoot.

Richard was marching up the stairs stone-faced as they walked by the landing. He did not bother to acknowledge them.

Cora continued into the library. "What's going on?"

"Great Aunt Myrtle's vase is broken," Robert said with a sigh.

"As is my engagement to Richard," Mary added more quietly.

Everyone looked around at one another wondering if they'd heard right and unsure as to what the correct response would be. No one ever celebrated a broken engagement, but this wasn't an unwelcome turn of events by the measure of anyone in the room.

Finally, Sybil said, "Shall we ring for more champagne?"

xxx

Sir Richard Carlisle left without fanfare the following morning. Mary caught him on the way out and made an effort to leave things more peacefully than they had the night before. She doubted she'd see him again, but she meant it when she told him that she hoped that he would find a woman that could love him in a way she couldn't.

As Mary watched him walk away, she wondered whether he'd really go through with his threat of exposing her. He was a callous and calculating person, but he hadn't been entirely uncaring with her, certainly not at the start. It was only when he saw that her heart was at war with itself that he'd become aggressive. He'd told her often that he'd fought for everything he'd had. Mary supposed that he didn't know how else to do things.

"Put him and anything that may come out of your mind."

Mary turned and saw Robert approach.

"If a scandal is to come, we'll face it," Robert added. "How much worse can it be, really, than the valet of an earl being tried for murder. That story is bound to get out eventually. Don't know why it hasn't, but perhaps we'll leak it ourselves to take pressure of you."

Mary smiled sadly. "Richard kept it out of the papers, the business with Bates."

"He did?"

Mary nodded. "I didn't know. He said it last night."

"So it will be out now, then," Robert said with a sigh. "Vindictive man."

"I don't know," Mary said. "Maybe he'll publish, maybe not. Anyway, it's out of my hands."

"And so I shall repeat what I said and tell you put it out of your mind as well."

Mary smiled again, this time slightly more genuinely. "Thank you, papa."

xxx

Murray hadn't given word about when news would come, so as the day passed everyone in the house got increasingly nervous, as if the more the waited the less likely it was that the news would be good. When the telegram finally came, Carson wasted no time in running upstairs to the library, where Robert and Cora were.

The news was good, and it traveled through the house quickly: Bates had been reprieved.

Once Robert explained the situation to Anna, she was given permission to travel that very afternoon to York to see her husband. And with the servants ball on once again, the downstairs became a flurry of activity as servants readied the refreshements and themselves for an evening of merriment.

It was in the midst of all of that that Tom walked down to see Mrs. Hughes in her office. She welcomed him in with a smile but was surprised to see him.

"What brings you down, Mr. Branson?" she asked shutting the door behind him.

"I just wanted to say thank you. Since we're off again tomorrow, I wasn't sure when I'd have the chance otherwise. I know how guests put an additional strain on the staff, and God knows none of them wanted to be serving the likes of me, so . . . anyway, thank you."

Mrs. Hughes smiled. "I wasn't really doing anything other than my job, but I appreciate your sincerity, Mr. Branson."

"I don't know if Mr. Carson might have told you but in case not, I also wanted you to know . . . Sybil's with child."

"He did—he didn't say it to the whole staff, of course, just me. I'm very happy for you and wish you all the best."

Tom looked down for a second, summoning his courage, than said, "May I ask you something?"

"What?" Mrs. Hughes replied, somewhat puzzled.

"Why didn't you ever tell Mr. Carson that you knew she and I were . . . friends?"

The question took her aback. Mrs. Hughes sighed and thought back to that day—how could anyone ever forget the day war was declared—and pictured a younger version of the man stood before her now, dressed in his livery and holding the hand of Lady Sybil, whose cheek was flush with excitement and her blossoming womanhood. And she remembered her warning to him.

Be careful, my lad.

"How was I to know where it all would lead," she said finally. "No sense in getting you sacked for something that might have turned out to be nothing."

"Well, thank you for that too."

Mrs. Hughes smiled again and stood. "Go on. We'd got a ball to get ready for."

"I hope you'll save me a dance," Tom said, with a grin.

Mrs. Hughes only laughed and rolled her eyes.

xxx

"You and I never danced together at the servants ball before," Sybil said as she and Tom took a turn about the hall with other couples—Matthew and Mrs. Patmore, Edith and Thomas, Cora and Carson—also dancing around them. "That's rather funny, don't you think?"

Tom laughed. "That was entirely intentional, if you remember."

"I know that at our last one, we were afraid we would give ourselves away, but surely before that, it would have been all right."

"Before you knew how I felt I was always afraid, I'd give myself away. I'm afraid I could never be close to you and trust that nothing would happen. Do you remember when we told Gwen the news of her job? We ended up holding hands, and Mrs. Hughes saw us. That was only started by a friendly embrace. Imagine what would have happened if we'd danced."

Sybil blushed. "Fair point."

"I spoke with her about that today, actually."

"Mrs. Hughes?"

Tom nodded. "I thanked her for not telling Mr. Carson. I can think of several people who would have, and I've no doubt he'd have fired me on the spot."

"Heavens," Sybil said. "That was so long ago. What would I have done all these years without you."

Tom smiled. "You'd have fared much better than I would have." Tom fought the urge to stop dancing and kiss her. Instead he only leaned down and slightly pecked her forehead, not missing a beat. "I have high hopes for 1920."

Sybil grinned. "Me too."

xxx

The party ran long past the chime of the clock at midnight. Tom and Sybil would have happily stayed dancing and enjoying the company of their friends until the sun came up. But, given Sybil's condition and the fact that they had to travel the next day, they knew they couldn't very well stay up too late.

When they finally headed up, they looked around to see if any other family members were around, but it seemed that all had retired earlier. They were halfway up the stairs when they heard the front door open and Mary and Matthew come in from outside.

"What in heaven's name were you doing outside?" Sybil asked, walking back down the stairs.

Looking back and forth between her sister and cousin, Sybil saw that they both looked as if they were lit up from the inside.

"What's going on?" Sybil asked.

Mary was grinning. Sybil couldn't remember ever seeing so much happiness in her sister's face.

Matthew looked at Mary and took her hand. "We have news."