Matthew and Tom

As the ladies got up to leave, she slipped her hand in his and squeezed it gently, and smiled.

"Don't be too long"

He smiled wanly back, and watched her as she left the room, following her sisters and mother. Then he turned back to Matthew and they looked at each other rather uncomfortably. Tom didn't know whether this was better or worse than having Robert there. He's always liked Matthew, but Matthew had only ever known him as a servant until last night.

As if reading his thoughts, Matthew dismissed Carson and smiled at him.

"Sybil is looking very well. Marriage obviously agrees with her"

"I don't know if its being married, but being allowed to get on with her life agrees with her. Dublin might not be what she is used to, but she likes the freedom"

Matthew nodded.

"I suppose looking back it was obvious Sybil was going to do something radical with her life - and I don't just mean marrying one" he quipped

Tom smiled, somewhat dutifully. He's humouring me, Matthew thought. Old habits must die hard.

"Sybil needs to be doing something. She can't just sit idle"

"Like my mother. Although Sybil is far sweeter than Mother."

This got a genuine grin.

"I think people see that and underestimate her" Matthew continued "Her family certainly did for a long time"

"She knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it. And I learnt to never underestimate Sybil a very long time ago, in Ripon"

Memories of another shared evening hung between them, an evening of blood and fear and recriminations. That was when I first asked Mary to marry me, Matthew thought. Oddly, he'd not thought of that evening in a very long time. It seemed part of another life. And Tom, he wondered, was he in love with Sybil even then ? He's remembered noticing the panic and concern etched on the young chauffeurs face when they'd seen Sybil's body lying on the ground. There had been something else Matthew had noticed but had not recognised for what it was at the time, a frustration that he'd had to surrender her care to Matthew - a palpable desire to protect her, that now made sense.

Tom Branson must be a patient man, he thought.

"Mary says that Sybil really doesn't care what anyone thinks."

"No. She doesn't."

Matthew sighed, reminded of the conversation he'd had with Mary at Christmas about Pamuk.

"I always seem to be underestimating Crawley women."

Tom smiled.

"Being married to one of them will cure you of that," he said, "its a lot easier figuring out what is going on in their minds when you live with them."

"And have you got Sybil figured out yet ?"

Tom shook his head and grinned.

"Only when she wants me to."

Another awkward silence ensued, as Tom slowly swirled his Lordship's best Irish malt around the bottom of his glass and took a sip. It really was very good, not as good as you could find back in Dublin, but as good as any Englishman was likely to have. Matthew started to worry the tablecloth with his fingertip, lost in thought.

"What's it like, being married ?"

The question took Tom totally by surprise. He studied Matthew's face, but his gaze was only met by Matthew's equally earnest one. It seemed he really wanted to know. But wanted to know what ? Surely the Earl of Grantham's heir would be living a very different married life to that of an Irish journalist…

"What do you mean ?"

Matthew laughed a little nervously.

"I don't really know, to be honest. It's just that here I am, getting married in two days, and I can't really say what my life is going to be like. I mean - I know I want to spend my life with Mary, but ….it's the details I can't seem to imagine. I've almost always lived with Mother, so the idea of living with someone else is rather…..odd. I suppose I mean, is being married to Sybil what you'd thought it would be ?"

If Tom was honest, he'd not really ever imagined what day to day life with Sybil would be like - true to form, he had blithely thought that once married, the details would work themselves out. And he had largely been right. Their first month of living together as man and wife had been spent learning to navigate around each other's boundaries, which had lead to some furious fights, followed swiftly by some equally memorable making up. Whilst both were willing and eager to share their bodies with the other, it took longer for their home to become truly shared. Now he couldn't imagine not living with her.

"I'm not sure I really thought about being married to Sybil in that much detail. I just knew I wanted to wake up next to her every morning, to have her there, always. Beyond that…" he paused, trying to put his thoughts into words. "You think you know a person, but then you find there is so much more to know - things you would never have imagined in a thousand years. Like the fact that she snores. Or that she's really quite greedy." Or that she's as randy as I am, he thought, smirking to himself.

Matthew nodded.

"I can't imagine Mary snoring. Although maybe that is why the aristocracy are supposed to have separate rooms."

"Bloody stupid idea, if you ask me," said his prospective brother-in-law in disgust.

The silence that followed was more companionable. Matthew started to fidget with his glass.

"Look….. I know we don't really know each other, but you are going to be my brother-in-law…"

He was clearly uncomfortable about what he was going to say next. Tom paused with his glass half way to his lips apprehensively.

"….you see, my father is dead, and I can't discuss this with Robert…."

Matthew began to look flustered.

'Were you nervous, about getting married ?"'

So that was it.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I was. Very nervous. I'd waited for her for five years and even though we'd been in Ireland together for more than a month, I still couldn't believe it was happening. I was worried I'd just wake up and I'd be back in that cottage, that I'd go to touch her and she'd just disappear into the vapour. Sometimes I still can't believe it. Anyway, isn't being nervous pretty much par for the course for a groom ?"

It was at this point that he noticed Matthew had started to blush furiously.

"You see the thing is…"

Matthew ran his finger around his collar as if it had suddenly got very hot in the dining room.

"The thing is, even in France, I never….. I mean, the other men would when we were back behind lines, but I never thought it was the right thing to do, never even really wanted to, I mean, and I was engaged to Lavinia….. so I've…. I've not…"

Tom mercifully cut him short.

"Well, I had, and believe me it didn't really help"

"Really ? Surely…."

"No, honestly, it didn't. Because it was Sybil."

Because it was Sybil, and I loved her so desperately, and I wanted it to be perfect for her, and I'd waited so long for it. None of those few previous fumbling encounters were going to prepare me for that, he wanted to say. So it might as well have been my first time, too.

"In the end, I think I was more nervous that she was."

Matthew smiled.

"Sybil does strike me as being pretty fearless."

A memory of his new wife, the strap of her chemise slipping off the curve of one shoulder, shyness chasing desire across her features, purposefully undoing the buttons of his shirt floated into his mind. The smirk widened and it was a good minute before he noticed Matthew was looking at him curiously.

"Look - the thing is, Lady Mary isn't going to have any expectations. So whatever happens…."

"Ah. Yes. Well…. that's not quite true…"

Tom stopped swirling his whiskey and stared at Matthew

"Sybil hasn't told you ?"

"Told me what ?"

"About…Mr Pamuk."

Matthew could see from the expression on Tom's face that he had no idea what he was talking about.

"Who ?"

"The Turkish diplomat - the one that - er - died here."

Tom frowned in confusion

"That was before my time - and Sybil has never once mentioned him in connection with Lady Mary."

Matthew suddenly wondered if Sybil even knew… if Robert knew he'd just assumed all the family knew, but Tom was obviously completely in the dark. But he had gone too far to back out now.

"Well that's the thing. He didn't die in his bed. He died in Mary's."

Tom choked on his whiskey, coughing violently for a few minutes, before he could speak again, eyes watering and breathing heavily.

"Lady Mary…..?"

Even then he couldn't finish the sentence.

"Good Lord - do you suppose Sybil knows ?"

Next Up : Sybil and Mary talk the night before the wedding.