"Well sir," Molesley said as he worked to get Matthew's hair just right, "are you ready for today?"

It still felt odd to have another man dress him and groom him, even though he had now been going through such a routine for a decade and 2 lifetimes, yet he refused to ever make Molesley feel useless and unwanted ever again. Such kindness had shown as the stumbling figure he had known (and according to Michael it had apparently gotten even worse with Molesley being forced to be a footman after his death) into a steady and capable valet. Oh, there was still the humility and the awkwardness there but it was covered up by confidence that only came from knowing your lot in life was secure.

"Which version of me would you like to hear from on that score?" Matthew said with a self-deprecating smile.

"Hmmm?" Molelsey asked, satisfied with his work and moving to get some of the creams that would keep Matthew's hair firmly in place. Wouldn't do to have a blast of wind come up and leave him looking like he'd just stuck his head into the mouth of a hurricane.

"Well, the lordly British heir would lie about feeling anything, stating that all was well. Just put your best foot forward, square that jaw, stiff upper lip, all of those clichés." Molesley chuckled at that and began to run his fingers through Matthew's hair, applying the cream that had a faint scent of apples. "The soldier would declare that he was ready for anything and that there was nothing that could startle him or scare him." Matthew paused, looking through the corner of his eye towards his valet. "The middle class lawyer would admit he is utterly terrified and has no idea what is going to happen. Oh, and suggest possibly we switch places and have you deal with all this."

Molesley puckered his lips in a tight amused smile. "Well… under any other circumstances I might be interested to try. I think I could fake being a lord, if desperate times demanded it."

"Under other circumstances," Matthew repeated.

The valet moved to a water basin and washed his hands. "Well, no offense meant sir but… you still have to tell Lady Mary goodbye and I've seen how she has been since the news broke concerning our return to Downton."

"In other words, "You are a braver man than me, Gunga Din", eh Molseley." Matthew chuckled and Molesley was quick to join him. "But yes, the truth of the matter is… I'm not ready for any of this. How could I be? I have no idea what is going to happen." In his mind he quietly added, 'Literally.'

Ever since he had come back he had been able to rely upon the comfort that he knew what life was going to throw at him. Being heir. Pamuk. The War. All of it. And he had been able to plan as needed, so that he could shift things into a direction that would benefit him and his family. Even when things had popped up that he hadn't expected he had already had plans in place that allowed him to get right back on track in a very short amount of time. Sybil and later Michael revealing themselves to him merely meant he had help on his mission. Knowledge that he had no way of nothing was provided to him. Histories revealed.

Robert casting him out had been the biggest alteration but he'd already been planning a move to London with Mary and all that truly changed was more people went with him and there was no need to make weekend trips to the Abbey.

But Robert's actions now, of turning Downton into a convalescence home and putting Sybil and himself in charge of it? Matthew not only hadn't seen that coming but he now found himself scrambling to find a way to get a grasp of control once more. But he couldn't… because he had no idea what Robert was planning. Was he legitimate in his desire to mend things? Was this all just a lie to trap him? Or was this something in between… Robert doing something that appeared kind but had selfish and vain reasoning behind it. Matthew simply didn't know and after several years of having such firm control over his life to go to have nothing… it left his terrified.

"Might I suggest we go over the plans for this morning?" Molesley asked as he moved to help Matthew put his jacket on. He was wearing his finest military uniform, the one normally reserved for special events like the War Department's Christmas party or meeting with the Prime Minister. Molesley always enjoyed getting a chance to dress him up in the uniform as he found it rather splendid and fun to go over how each piece must go in order to complete everything. It was like watching an old man happily dive into a puzzle, working out the pieces and seeing how quickly he could put it all together. It had been decided by all that for this morning, with his official arrival at the Downton Convalescence Home, that he should look utterly professional. Tomorrow and the days after he would wear a more practical uniform but today he had to make a grand show of it.

"That is actually a good idea," Matthew said. "I do function better with plans."

"I know," Molesley stated with a smile, taking out the lint brush and getting to work on Matthew's coat. "You will have breakfast with Lady Mary while I see to the loading of your luggage into the car. We will pick up Lady Sybil and arrive at the train station… you are sure Mr. Branson doesn't wish to ride with us?"

"I'm sure. He said he would make his own way there." He'd been surprised when Tom had revealed that he was going with them to Downton, as he looked forward to spending more time with the man that had been (and he hoped would be again soon) his brother-in-law. His time at the War Office and Tom at the paper had prevented them from truly getting together, one-on-one, and being able to bond as they had in Matthew's previous life. 'Besides, I can use every ally I can get,' he thought to himself. Tom was going apparently to do a new series for Michael's paper, "A Soldier's Tale". "We will then get on the train and arrive at Downton Station, where we will separate."

"Correct. I will head up to the house and see that your room is ready and that everything is put away. You in turn will be heading to the Grantham Arms." Molesley paused, a pleased little smile on his face. "It will be good to see Mr. Bates and Anna again. I haven't seen Anna since before she had the baby and I haven't seen Mr. Bates since… well, I think before the war!"

"You'll be able to pop down and visit them, I promise you," Matthew stated.

"Do we know anything about Lady Sybil's assistant?"

"None," Matthew stated. The reason for their detour to the Grantham Arms wasn't a social call but rather than they would be picking up Sybil's new assistant. It had been decided by those in charge of the entire thing (and Matthew had a feeling Cousin Violet was the true mastermind of this scheme) that seeing as Matthew had Molesley and Dr. Clarkson had been given an assistant that Sybil, as the final member of the trinity, should have her own aide as well. Sybil had been firm that she didn't need a lady's maid but Cousin Violet had stated that while the woman could assist with such things, if needed, she truly was there to help keep everything in order for Sybil. Matthew had pointed out that it would be cruel to deny a woman a job (repeating Robert's own words in Matthew's previous lifetime concerning Molesley) during this time of strife and Cousin Violet had argued that it was no different than, "your little friend with the red hair who you took away from service and made into a secretary". Sybil had finally surrendered to that and thus they needed to pick the woman up at the Grantham Arms; apparently she had a young son and had been getting the two of them settled in the village rather than staying at Downton.

"And then you will arrive at Downton where Dr. Clarkson will show all of you around." Once more Molesley gave a tight little amused smile. "It's odd to think about, isn't it? Being given a tour of a place you have spent so much time in? Seems rather strange… I imagine it would be like… well, as if I returned to my childhood home to find a new family living there and they allowed me to walk about the cottage. My room now was a storage room and they had different curtains up. Similar yet… different. Do you know what I mean?"

"More than you know," Matthew said softly, thinking about his first visit to Downton in this new life of his and how strange it had been to walk the halls and meet staff and family who didn't know him but he knew so well.

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing," Matthew said, brushing that thought aside. "Nothing at all." He took his cap from Molesley and tucked it under his arm. "Well then… I suppose I should go greet Mary and the Lothrops and try and get some food in me."

"Do not worry, sir. It will all go well as long as you remain positive."

"…is that what you really want to say or just one version of you?"

Molesley quickly turned away, humming a bit louder than needed rather than answering. Matthew rolled his eyes at that and headed downstairs to find his family already eating. "I hope you don't mind but we started without you," Allen said, loading his plate up with eggs and some ham before making his way back to the table. "Try the muffins," he said, gesturing to a basket that was sitting at the end of the serving table. "A Mary Crawley Specialty."

"No, don't try them," Mary said firmly. "Have the apple tarts instead. I'm having a basket made for you and Sybil and Tom to enjoy with Anna and John and the muffins are part of that. The tarts aren't... I didn't want to risk them bursting open during the journey."

Matthew leaned down and gave her a kiss good morning. "So that was what had you so busy in the kitchen yesterday."

"I needed to work out some tension," Mary said breezily. "I found pounding dough and attacking eggs in batter to be a fine stress reducer."

"And I suppose you didn't happen to envision someone's face in that dough while you were punching it," Catherine said with a coy smile. "Because that wouldn't be how a lady handles things."

Mary merely sipped her tea in response.

"And just how does a lady handle things?" Allen asked. "Creating characters in her novels that happen to resemble people she doesn't like?"

Now it was Cat's turn to sip her drink.

Allen looked to Matthew. "Are you ready for all this? I can still arrange to come with you. Or I can get Thomas to go for a few days."

"If you go it will end with you and Robert throwing punches at each other," Matthew stated before looking at Mary who had begun to hum a little as she cut her ham into small stripes to mix with her eggs. "And that would be bad, Mary, that would be very bad."

"If you say so. I say it settles several of our problems at once."

"As for Thomas," Matthew said, refusing to even answer that line of thought from his wife, "he will have his hands full manning our office by himself even with the help you have provided him."

"He will be fine," Allen said without a shrug. "Herber Pelham is a smart chap, down to Earth, and used to working for a living so he won't be bothered with a former footman being his boss."

"You do think though he will manage?" Catherine asked Matthew.

"I do," Matthew stated. "I've been stepping back these last two weeks to allow him to take on more of the heavy lifting, acting in the same manner his assistants will. I know more than they will so obviously it will be harder to start but I am confident he can run the department."

"He only has to manage a little while," Mary stated. "Once Papa reveals his true colors you'll be able to respectfully escape and return here and our lives will become what they once were."

"In the meantime Sybil and I will be alternating when our days off are so one of us can return to London and keep you all informed. I'll be coming first as it will be easier for me to get away… Sybil needs to prove herself to Dr. Clarkson that she can handle her new position and it won't look well of her if she flees to London after a few days."

"He should respect her already," Mary complained. "She has done wonderful work here in London… I dare say the quality of care that will be received by soldiers in the city will drop greatly with her gone."

"Sybil will still be lending her voice to any serious needs," Matthew stated. "And you must remember that Dr. Clarkson has been doing this for far longer than Sybil."

"Still he should trust her."

Matthew smiled and reached out to take her hand. "You are being contradictory just to be contradictory again, my love."

"I am not-" Mary stopped and scowled at him but he could tell there was no heat in her look. "Very funny."

"What are your plans for today?" Matthew asked as he selected fried potatoes, a couple spoonfuls of eggs, a piece of toast, and a second smaller plate with several of Mary's tarts.

"Curious about all of us or just your wife?" Catherine teased. Matthew gave her a roll of his eyes and gestured at all three of them. "That is very kind to ask. I am going to a War Widow Board Meeting… we are trying to organize funds to assist women whose husbands are listed as 'Missing In Action'. The military has been cutting off benefits to them but won't actually award them with Death Compensation since, obviously, they don't know if they are dead." She shot a look at Allen.

"I've made my opinion known to the higher ups," he said with a grunt. "I am powerful, Catherine, but only so powerful. I can't force the issue through, no matter how much I want to. And we've already donated to the cause, have we not?"

She had the decency to grimace at the reminder. "I'm sorry… it isn't right of me to blame you like that."

"No, it isn't," Allen said with a huffing laugh.

"Still, I hope you can help them," Mary said. "I can't imagine the terror of thinking the man you love might be dead and the world won't help you. Those poor women." She shook her head. "If I can do anything to help…?"

"I'll let you know," Catherine stated. "You were wonderful helping us organize that benefit for the Orphans Fund last year… don't be surprised if we come looking for you to lead the entire thing again this year." Cat dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "That should take up most of my day, Matthew, so if you can't reach either of these two you will need to call at the office."

"As for me I'll be in meetings," Allen said. "We managed to capture some German supply trains and I need to go over what we have and how we are going to divide it up… assuming there is any left." Matthew nodded at that, remembering how one time he and his platoon had found a cache of supplies abandoned by the Austrians. While he had known that the proper thing to do would have been to report it he couldn't justify sending off food and warm blankets when his men were freezing and hungry. So he'd gone against regulations and divided it all up himself. If there was anything for Allen to claim for the army that meant it was found by a soldier stronger than he in terms of morals.

"And you, Mary?" Matthew asked.

"Since you are abandoning me for Papa… I'm sorry," she quickly said the moment the first statement left her lips. "That was cruel of me. Since you will be seeing how genuine Papa is with his desire to make amends I decided I would do the same on my end. I am going to see Mama."

Matthew smiled at that. "I am thrilled you are doing that. I think she is truly sorry, for what it is worth."

"Sorry, yes. But has she earned my forgiveness? This lunch will determine that. I am going to take Lavinia with me, to keep it more casual… I have no desire for a long conversation where we talk about our feelings, not with my mind stuck upon the fact that you and Sybil are trapped at Downton. No, a casual lunch, that is all."

Catherine smirked at that. "And I suppose this would have nothing to do with you seeing Lillian afterwards."

"None at all," Mary said firmly.

"Because you did seem rather jealous of how much time Edith has spent with her."

"I am not and I am offended by the charge," Mary said politely yet firmly. "Lillian is my sister. I do not need her to favor me over Edith."

Catherine raise an eyebrow. "Oh? So you happened to just buy her some new dolls the other day because…"

"…I missed her birthday and wanted to make up for 2 of them."

"And that fact that one of them looks like her and the other you?"

"Coincidence."

Matthew savored their banter. It was dawning on him in that moment that not since he'd returned to the past had they spent more than a 2 or 3 days without seeing each other. And now they would be greatly separated. It weighed on his heart and suddenly the food didn't taste as good, even Mary's tarts.

'So help me, Robert,' he mentally thought, 'if you are not being honest I will kill you myself for this.'

~MC~MC~MC~

She didn't know why, but whenever Sybil thought of the lands that surrounded her home it was always springtime. The grass was green and gentle hills rose and fell so that she was surrounded by an emerald sea of gentle waves. The trees filled with flowers that hinted at summers of ripe sweet fruit. Animals begin to awaken and make themselves known to the humans that shared the lands with them. Farmers plowing and seeding their fields while children emerged from their homes to discover the joys of play once more. That was how she always remembered it, when she closed her eyes and thought of her home.

Thus it was so strange of her to look out the window of the car and see not grass but white stretching out before her. Not that it wasn't beautiful, for it was. The snows that covered all of the surrounding lands made things seem purer. Fresher. As if the world had been put to sleep. Even in the cloudy midday everything was quiet and calm. It was an unspoiled world that made her feel as if the war was merely a distant memory that had never truly been. There was no life, no signs of activity save for the car itself as it smoothly made its way along the road from the train station to the village.

But it wasn't home. Not when she closed her eyes and imagined it.

'But it hasn't been my home for a long time. Even before this life,' she thought to herself with a quiet sigh. 'Tom is my home. Our daughter that we should have raised together… that is my home.' She pressed her hands against her stomach, remembering how it had felt when it had been swollen and she'd felt so fat and awkward and yet felt so wonderful because she knew that she would eventually give birth to a representation of her and Tom's love. And even though that child had cost Sybil her life she longed for that daughter she had barely been able to hold, who she hadn't even named ('And she WON'T be called Sybbie!'). Downton hadn't been her home without Tom in her bed, his arms wrapped around her. Downton was just… a place she had lived, had known. And now it didn't even match what she had envisioned.

The car hit a small bump and Sybil let out an 'oompf' as she briefly floated in the air before coming down on her seat.

"Sorry about that!" the chauffeur called out from the front seat.

"Quite alright," Tom said; he'd decided to sit next to the man. It should have been Molesley sitting there but Tom had quickly volunteered, arguing that it would be far more comfortable for Molesley in the back when Sybil knew the truth. She had seen it in his eyes… he was unable to hide his interest in checking out the car and making sure that it was being properly cared for. Even after all this time his love for the vehicle had remained. "These roads can be a bother, especially with the weather we have been getting. Cold and warm and cold again."

"What do you mean?" Matthew asked. He was sitting next to her, looking utterly dashing in his dress uniform and Sybil for once rather regretted that Tom was so against the military; the idea of him borrowing a suit from Matthew and the two of them having a bit of… play… danced through her head.

Before either chauffer, past or present, could answer Molesley spoke up. "When it warms up the snows melt and seep into the ground. Normally this would be fine… needed even. How else would the water disappear otherwise? Well, I suppose through evaporation but this works too. The problem is that if it quickly freezes again that water is in the ground and turns into ice. And if you remember your basic chemistry-"

"Water expands," Matthew finished, shaking his head. "Of course. How foolish of me." He looked to Tom. "You have your notepad on you, don't you?"

"I do," Tom stated.

"I hate to be a bother but could you make a note that I must speak with Dr. Clarkson about us filling the potholes that form. During the summer we'll commission men to do a firmer job of it but perhaps when it warms up that might be a good job for the more able-bodied soldiers. Give them a chance to get out, give them a bit of extra pay?"

"That would be good," Sybil said. "Very good. We always have a problem with getting the men to exercise. People don't realize that the fitter you are the better you are at bouncing back from injury." It was why, in secret, Sybil had taken to doing mild exercises after her shift, even if she was bone tired. While she knew it was foolish, that it hadn't been a bloated stomach that had killed her, she couldn't help but wonder if staying more active would have helped her situation. She glanced at Matthew and wondered if he had thought the same. 'He certainly isn't as puffy as he was when Tom and I came to Downton that final time.' She remembered how his cheeks had been like a squirrel, round and fleshy, and compared that to now where he was fit and trim… even with a diet of baked goods from Mary.

It wasn't that far of a walk, all things considered, from the station to the Grantham Arms and if it wasn't for their luggage Sybil would have suggested they walked. It felt very odd to be in the car, knowing that Papa had sent it for them. She wanted to assume that it was a kindness but… she couldn't help but wonder if there was a hidden meaning behind it. A trap or a trick or a debt. 'And with Granny being the one apparently pulling all the strings I wouldn't put it past her setting this all up as some sort of scheme. That feels like something she would do.'

"Did you ever think we would be coming back here?" Matthew asked softly, leaning closer to her while Molesley, Tom,a dn the chauffer talked about road conditions.

"I had hoped," Sybil said. "Those first few weeks I would dream that Papa would come to his senses and he would rush to London and make some grand apology and there would be hugs and tears and we'd work everything out. We would stay in London, of course, because of our jobs. But perhaps Papa would move everyone to Crawley House and we'd stay there during the winter and Papa and Mama would return to Downton in the summer and we'd visit from time to time." She sighed, melancholy. "But as time went on and he never made a move to mend bridges that dream withered away and I grew to accept that I would never see Downton again. Or, I suppose I should say, Downton under papa's rule. For I know that under your command we'd all be welcomed back." She smiled softly, turning to face him and she dimly realized that if anyone who didn't know the two of them looked in they would think that they were a couple whispering sweet nothings in each other's ear. That thought made Sybil's stomach roll and heave; Matthew was her brother in all but blood and the thought of him in any sort of a desirable manner was… wrong. "It was easier for me though than it was for you. I had already once gone through with the knowledge that Downton was lost to me."

"Your exile in Ireland," Matthew whispered.

Sybil nodded. "Yes. While this was far more… dramatic… and startling than that time, at least for me, I was better prepared after Tom and my exile."

"Let us hope that this return ends better than the last," Matthew said. He looked past her, out the window, unable to meet her eyes before stating, "Your death hit us all hard the first time. Now… I wouldn't survive another."

"You would," Sybil said firmly.

"And if I were to die?" Matthew simply asked.

"Don't you dare even put that out into the world," Sybil hissed, reaching out and knocking on the wood panel of the door before she shot him a dark look. "Touche."

Matthew smiled at that before he looked towards the front of the car. "You startled Molesley and I when we came to pick you up. I thought Tom was supposed to meet us at the train station."

"He was done early and came to see if I needed help," Sybil stated.

"You're lying," Matthew said. "I know when you lie."

"And how do you know that?"

"Your lip quivers."

"It does?" she asked, reaching up and touching her mouth.

"No. But you just confirmed you were lying."

She glowered at him. "Mary might enjoy you showing off your intelligence through tricks and word games but I do not." She grew quiet before finally speaking up. "Tom and I… we are… that is to say…"

"You were married in one life," Matthew said softly. "I found it hard to remind myself of that with Mary." He glanced over to make sure Molesley wasn't paying attention. "Who instigated it?"

"We both agreed, mutually," she said honestly.

"How long?"

"Several hours."

Matthew gave her a look of disgust. "I meant when did you get together! God in Heaven, Sybil!"

"Oh," she said, blushing. "Er…the day Granny told us about Downton."

Matthew smiled as his disgust passed. "Are you happy?"

" I am happy. We both are. It has been… an experience. It is quite strange this time, compared to before."

"Because of future knowledge," Matthew said before catching himself.

Sybil firmly decided not to focus on him and Mary making love. She found herself nodding, hating the hot blush that crept across her cheeks… and the cocky proud smile that formed on her lips as she remembered how she had taken Tom into his bed and reduced him into warm putty, twitching and moaning as she did things that no good lord's daughter should know how to do. While she had told him much about their time in Ireland she'd never mentioned that their neighbors, the O'Malleys, had been passionately in love even after 50 years together and Rebecca O'Malley had decided to educate Sybil on all the ways a woman could surprise a man when it was clear Sybil honestly didn't know what she was doing. Ways to touch, ways to move, even ways that didn't see her needing to touch Tom at all, merely herself. She'd given him a taste that first night and had been smug for the next few days over what she'd managed to get him to cry out.

'He doesn't say the Lord's name as much in church as he does when I'm in his bed,' she thought to herself as the car turned and rumbled into the village proper. "It doesn't look real, does it?"

"What's that?" Matthew asked.

"The village." She raised her voice so everyone could hear her, aware that she had been whispering with Matthew for far too long and Molesley and the driver (and it shamed her that she didn't know the man's name; she mentally promised that if everything was on the up-and-up with Downton she would make it one of her first tasks to speak to all of the servants, new and old) would begin to question what she and her brother-in-law were gossiping about. They'd need to be careful now, lest the common folk begin to talk. "I've grown used to winters in London, where the snows become gray at best and everywhere you look there is wet disgusting slush that stains your clothing and ruins your boots. But this… the village looks like something one would see in a drawing in The Sketch."

"It does look timeless, doesn't it?" Matthew said as they came to a stop in front of the Grantham Arms. Mathew stepped out first and, being the gallant knight that he was in all but title, held out his hand to assist her in getting out of the car. Once they were settled Matthew leaned back in and said to the chauffer, "We'll need about an hour or so, so take your time returning."

"Very good, sir," the man said as Molesley shifted to the front seat for his ride to the House to get their belongings settled; much to Sybil's amusement the valet had declared that he would see to all of their luggage, not just Matthew's, and that had left Tom fighting back the urge to refuse out of bloody Irish principle.

"Well, ready to meet the new help?" Tom asked, briefcase in hand.

"Not in the slightest," Sybil stated. "I know it is hard for you to imagine but I never actually had someone work for me. The servants at Downton were always Papa and Mama's and when we lived in Dublin during my first life I did all the work." She chuckled at the memory of the shock on her mother's face when she'd seen Sybil using a dust rag to clean Tom's book shelf and then sweeping the floor while carrying on a conversation. "The lessons Mrs. Patmore gave me and my nurse's training really helped there."

"You'll be fine," Matthew said, giving her a playful nudge. "I dare say your new assistant will be more scared than you are."

"I honestly hope not because that would mean she will be trembling in the corner!"

Tom offered her his arm and she accepted it with gratitude. "As someone who used to work in service let me give you a few tips. First and foremost be understanding. Your life and her's have been very different. Don't condescend, don't hold yourself higher than her."

"Of course."

"But the opposite is also true," Tom said as they made for the door to the hotel. "Don't believe that you to are the same. Nothing was more irritating than one of your lot acting like my struggles and theirs were the exact same and thus we were brothers in battle or any of that lark. Don't apologize for causing problems, or at the very least only do it once or twice. But if you are constantly asking for forgiveness you will drive them mad."

"Shite, now ya're makin' me want ta turn tail and get my arse out of here!" Sybil exclaimed, slipping into her Irish brogue.

"And be careful doing that," Tom said while Matthew chuckled; she glowered at him and he forced his face to become neutral as they opened the door and stepped inside.

The main sitting room of the hotel was half full, with a few people eating an early lunch while Imogen, the girl that Anna and John had hired to clean the rooms, was moving about muttering about a wash brush that she couldn't find. Someone she'd never met before was at the bar cleaning glasses and checking over the bottles, a new employee that they'd need to meet eventually.

"It's in your hand," Anna said, emerging from the kitchen and offering the threesome a quick glance at Mrs. Lester, the Bates' cook who was cutting up some potatoes. "But don't worry about that. Go help Mrs. Lester with lunch. You know those carpenters will be heading down here for a bite soon."

"But I haven't cleaned the upstairs room, number 4," Imogen said.

"No one has been in there since Tuesday and we aren't expecting a rush. And if there is you can clean it after lunch, silly." Anna was polite, with a smile, but her tone was clear. "Now get going, okay?" She looked over at the three and let out a bemused sigh. "Sorry about that… with all the work going on up at the House things get hectic around here come during the meals."

"Completely understandable," Matthew said, giving Mary's oldest friend and former maid a hug. It was rather startling and quite familiar but Sybil wasn't surprised… if Matthew didn't hug Anna and Mary found out she'd tan his hide.

"So they are working on the Abbey?" Tom asked.

"Oh yes," Anna said. "Nothing too radical, at least on the face of it. I go up there some days to deliver lunches, to help out Mrs. Patmore… she is used to making many dishes, not a ton of a single dish so it can get a bit overwhelming. I mostly will bring breads and other easy to handle dishes up there. And even then more than a few men will come down here to eat, even with this weather. Gets them out of the house. Not because there is anything bad!" Anna said quickly when Sybil shot her a dark look. "It's just… Mrs. Patmore is a creature of habit. And her habit is making rich meals, even for us servants. The men working up there are used to meals that sit easy on the stomach. Mrs. Lester is better at providing that, though don't let Mrs. Patmore know I said that or I'll never hear the end of it."

"Our lips are sealed," Sybil said with a grin as they removed their coats and made for the check-in desk. "But they are working up there? What is it like?"

"They aren't adding onto the Abbey, if that is what you are thinking," Anna stated. "Just renovating things to make it easier to move about. Last week Ro… his lordship had them lay down flooring over the hardwood in the large library, to preserve the floor from carts and beds rolling around."

"Of course he did," Sybil said with a roll of her eyes. Leave it to her father to be concerned about hardwood.

"He also had a few doors widened so that they one could move things through them easier."

Sybil had to admit that was a good change; she remembered more than once they had been forced to take a long way around the Abbey and even once had to go down a flight of stairs and then up a different set just to get to their needed room because the way the door was set they couldn't pivot with the stretcher.

"Dr. Clarkson has been very helpful," Anna said. "John too. His lordship has asked him a few times to come up to give his advice… he reasoned that John owning the hotel would have some ideas on how to move about easier."

"Of course there is also his leg," Matthew said before grimacing. "Pardon. That was-"

"Correct," Anna said. "It isn't wrong if there is truth to it and you didn't mean any pain in your stating it."

"And is Sybil's new assistant here?" Tom asked.

Anna nodded. "Oh yes. Very nice woman. I think you two will get along well. We set her up in Room 1, so you could meet with her in private. Matthew, Tom, if you want you can go upstairs and talk with John… he was seeing to Noah but should be able to spare a few minutes."

The two men nodded and Sybil stared at the traitors… the two kind men who were abandoning her to deal with the assistant she was terrified she would insult and send running for the hills… as they left her to make her way to Room 1.

'Just open the door, Sybil,' she mentally chastised herself. 'You do no good just standing here like a brain-addled fool.'

Steeling her nerves Sybil entered the room, her new assistant sitting on the bed, hands folded in her lap. The moment she saw her though the woman leapt to her feet, swallowing and managing a nervous smile. She was older than Sybil, older than Mary even. Not Mama's age, but in her thirties. It was clear that she hadn't led a life of luxury but she also hadn't lived a life on her hands and knees scrubbing out chamber pots. Just below middle class, if Sybil had to guess, clawing her way into a more comfortable social standing. Knew service and most likely the daughter of servants if she had to guess. She was shorted than Sybil but not by much, which was a relief as Sybil had grown far too used to being around tall women; her mother, her sisters, Isobel, Catherine… it would be nice not to crane her next to look at her assistant. The woman's dark hair was short, much like Sybil's own, and she was wearing a practical coat and long skirt in a tasteful dark gray. It was something that Sybil would have far preferred to wear.

'I feel so utterly awkward in this,' she thought, subtly reaching down and running her hands along her own skirt. It had been decided, again most likely by her grandmother, that with her promotion Sybil needed a new uniform, one better fitting her station as being on the same level as Matthew and Dr. Clarkson. She had on a dress shirt and tie (which had been an experience to learn how to put on) over which had gone an olive-color jacket that matched her knee-length skirt. There was a thick belt that went around her waist and another one that crossed her chest and went over one shoulder. She even had been given a cap similar to the one that Matthew wore.

Sybil shut her eyes for a moment. 'Stop focusing on what you are wearing and focus on the woman who works for you now!' Smiling she walked over to her new assistant and offered her hand. "Good to meet you and sorry for making you wait. I am-" she paused, nearly saying 'Nurse Crawley' before she remembered that she, like Matthew, had been given a new rank. Matthew had been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel (and it hadn't been missed that he'd been given the same rank as her father, being promoted quickly to Major and then right on to Lt Colonel) while she… "-Principal Matron Sybil Crawley."

"It is good to meet you as well," her new assistant stated. "I suppose I should introduce myself?"

"Yes, that would be helpful," Sybil said with a soft smile. "You'll forgive me if I'm not what you'd have expected… I'm not used to giving orders in a command structure. At least not if someone is bleeding out."

"Understood, ma'am." The woman squared her shoulders. "I am Jane Moorsum."

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: Uh oh. Robert's love interest is coming to this story.

Of course I imagine things will be rather different this time.

The next several chapters are all taking place on the same day so be prepared for not a lot of time passing for a while!

As for our plot bunny I have something a bit different in mind… a fun one though in the right hands.

Taking place in Series 2, right before Tom and Sybil actually run off on their failed attempt to elope, Robert invites Rose's family to come and visit Downton. Things are going quite normal, with Robert thinking of just all they can do during the visit, Matthew still in mourning after Lavinia's death, Carlisle in the picture, so on. Things only take a turn when Mary needs to pick something up from Ripon and decides she'll go with Tom, pick the item up, then meet Shrimpie and the rest of the family at the train station. A young Rose is the first off the train and she lets out a shriek… and runs past Mary to greet "Tom! Oh, how wonderful to see you again! It has been ages, hasn't it? But whatever are you wearing? Is this a lark of yours?"

Mary is quite surprised… more so when she sees a look of terror on Tom's face. And it only gets worse when Shrimpie steps onto the platform and he stares in shock at Tom. "Good Heavens! Tom… Tom Branson? But… you're dead!"

See, it turns out Tom hasn't been entirely truthful. Remember how the Dowager mentioned a Branson family and how they could pin him to their family tree? Well, it turns out that Tom isn't a low class Irish boy… Tom is the heir of the Marquess Westhaven. He is from a very long, proud, and rich upper class family. But when he was a teenager he chaffed under the responsibility and decided to run away, taking odd jobs before deciding to work in great houses… because no one would ever look for him there. Except now… he's been found out.

What would follow would be a wonderful tapestry of chaos. Mary stunned silent for an entire day that Tom Branson outranks everyone. Matthew honestly getting what Tom did it and being the first to offer him a friendly hand. Carson passing out as he realizes he's been bossing around someone of higher rank than his Lordship. Robert trying to wrap his head around it. Sybil upset and demanding answers but also quickly realizing that this settles all their problems… except now Tom is cool to her because he thinks she only wants to be with him because of his money. And the Dowager wanting Sybil to be with Tom for that exact reason!

And Daisy startled that everyone is shocked.

Seems she accidently learned the truth during Tom's first day and he promised he'd tell everyone. She thought everyone knew and was being super polite.