The Merry Wives of Downton Negotiate an Encore.
Here it be; the sequel. Enjoy.
-Prologue-
"Twelfth Night!" Sybil was adamant, she was not going to back down on this, "Don't you see, Edith, that's the whole point? We are doing Twelfth Night for Twelfth Night!"
"That's not fair, Mama," Edith complained, "Sybil chose the play last time, I asked to do Romeo and Juliet then, and we ended up with Macbeth!"
Cora, sensing that some diplomacy was in order here, took a deep breath and prayed that her mother-in-law wouldn't open her mouth before she got the chance to.
"Edith, dear, I don't think we ought to do two tragedies in a row," she told her daughter kindly, "Everyone would think us very morbid!"
To be frank, Edith could not see why that particularly mattered. Nor could she see why Sybil should be the one to get her own way all of the time.
"Why do you have your heart so set on Twelfth Night,anyway?" she asked her younger sister, "One would almost have thought you quite relished the idea of cross-dressing."
"Edith!"
Apparently their grandmother was paying attention: as she had so far failed to distribute her opinions as widely as possible, Sybil had had her doubts about whether she was aware of the conversation at all. As for herself, however, she was supremely unperturbed by her sister's remark.
"Because I've already cast the principal parts," was her reply.
"Sybil!" her mother exclaimed, "You can't do that!"
"Why not?" she enquired, "I practically cast the last one myself. And directed it. And acted in it." None of them- neither of her sisters, nor her mother, nor her grandmother, nor even Aunt Rosamund- could refute that. "We are short of time as it is," she pointed out, "Don't forget, the staff will have our Christmas to sort out as well, it will be much more straightforward if we just go ahead with the main cast I've decided on, rather than going through rounds of auditions to allow me to arrive at the very same conclusion."
They were quiet for a few moments, seeming to mull it over. She got the feeling she had successfully impressed upon them how serious she was, for once the women in her family appeared to adopt a timid air.
"How many roles have you cast already?" Aunt Rosamund enquired.
"Four."
"And are you playing one of them?" Edith asked testily.
"Of course."
"Viola?" It surprised her to hear Mary speak, she had been very quiet this morning. And now that she looked properly, Sybil got the impression the her sister was watching her in something like admiration.
Sybil shook her head.
"Olivia."
-Chapter 1-
"Tom?"
Sybil came clattering happily down the servants' stairs to- rather more happily- find the chauffeur standing at the foot of them. Seeing her, he smiled and held out his hand to help her down the last few stairs. Though the gesture was both thoroughly unnecessary and rather touching, there was not time for all of that now.
"Have you seen Mrs Hughes?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"It's Wednesday," he replied, as if that explained everything, "I thought you might be looking for me."
"Sorry," she replied, checking that no one was looking before standing on her tiptoes and kissing him quickly, "What do you mean "It's Wednesday." ?"
"Her day off," he replied.
Sybil had the urge to curse out loud; she really needed to get things under way as quickly as possible. That, and the fact that she was getting very excited about the prospect of this production now.
"What does she do with her afternoon off?" she asked, on the off-chance that he might know. She was in luck.
"Mrs Crawley comes to sit with her," he replied, "For a good gossip, by all accounts. They've done it every Wednesday since Macbeth finished. Though no one's really supposed to know, they thought they would never hear the end of it if Lady Violet found out that Mrs Crawley's made a point of making friends with the servants."
It was odd, Sybil thought, how it seemed that every remotely intimate relationship Mrs Hughes had with other human beings she felt the need to keep secret.
"They're probably right there," Sybil laughed, "I'm sure they won't mind if I joined them today?"
"I'm sure they wouldn't. M' Lady," he added for effect.
…...
"You've already cast it?" Cousin Isobel repeated, "Though, " she added, with something of an exasperated glance at the chair where Sybil sat "I don't know why I'm surprised."
"Only the four main parts," Sybil replied defensively, "What do you think Mrs Hughes?" she sought support from the housekeeper, who was pouring over a copy of the text that Sybil had just given her.
"So that's Viola, Sebastian, Orsino and-..."
"Olivia. Yes, that's right."
"Are you gong to be Viola?" Mrs Crawley asked.
"Funnily enough, Mary said the same thing," Sybil told her- wondering vaguely if she came across as the type who would particularly enjoy cross-dressing, "But no. Olivia."
"The pretty one," Isobel observed shrewdly.
Sybil grinned reluctantly.
"Yes, as it happens."
Mrs Hughes looked up from the script. Turning to see what she thought of the whole scheme, Sybil was disappointed- though not altogether surprised- to see that she wore the expression of someone who had spotted a snag.
"What?" she asked, hesitantly, bracing herself for a torrent of criticism from a renowned perfectionist.
"According to this we need identical twins, of different genders," she pointed out, "I have to say, I didn't even realise that was possible."
That, Sybil could cope with. In fact, she had already coped.
"They're already cast," she informed them, smugly.
"Who?" the older women wanted to know.
"Matthew's friend Christopher," she replied smartly.
"And who?"
Here was where she might meet some opposition.
"And Gwen," she suggested tentatively. There was a heavy pause. She had been right.
"Lady Sybil," Mrs Hughes began in a judicious tone, which she had heard from the housemaids was never a good sign, "With the greatest respect; while I allowed you to bully me into taking the lead role of a play, I will not allow you to do the same to one of my housemaids."
Expecting to see similar exasperation at Mrs Hughes' unhelpfulness to her own in her cousin, she was surprised when she found nothing of the sort.
"I'm afraid, I agree with Mrs Hughes', my dear," Isobel informed her, "Have you actually asked Gwen if she consents to this?"
Best not answer that.
"Oh good heavens, I thought I could rely on you too!" she exclaimed, frustrated with the pair of them.
The older women exchanged a glance.
"You can," Mrs Hughes informed her, a little more gently, "So long as Gwen agrees, we are the first ones behind you. In fact, I will even audition for a part of my own free will- I might stretch to saying that I enjoyed myself last time-; but make sure she agrees first."
As soon as she had left the basement she went up to drawing room, where she knew Anna and Gwen were polishing the floor that afternoon. Deciding that diplomacy was by far her best card, she knocked politely on the door and waited. Gwen herself answered it, looking surprised to find Sybil knocking on the door in her own home. She got the feeling that her surprise was only about to increase tenfold when she heard what Sybil had to say to her.
"Gwen, I need you to do me the most spectacular favour..."
…...
"So, I hear she got her to agree, then."
Normally, Isobel would have gone back to Crawley House by now, but- having been invited by Sybil to stay for dinner- had returned back downstairs to say goodnight to Elsie before returning home. Elsie threw her a rather grim look.
"By what means, though?" the housekeeper wondered, "You know Lady Sybil..."
"Oh, I don't imagine it's anything too serious," Isobel replied vaguely, though not looking all that convinced of it herself.
They both sat in armchairs, feeling rather tired after the sudden surge of excitement around the house today.
"Who do you want to be, then?" Elsie asked, aware that now Sybil had Gwen's consent to go ahead, she and Isobel were honour-bound to back her up.
Isobel cast her rather a wry smile.
"Oh, I'm already sorted out," she informed her, "I did quite fancy playing Maria- another one to add to the catalogue of Gentlewomen I've played on stage- but I've been told that's out of the question if I want to make the costumes as well."
"And do you want to make the costumes?" Elsie enquired.
"Apparently."
Elsie laughed.
"I'm rather glad you said that," she confessed, "Because Charles and I have our eyes on her and Sir Toby."
"I think you're rather too small to play Sir Toby."
When Elsie cast her her best housekeeper's don't-be-frivolous look, she tried a different tack.
"Is that wise?" she enquired seriously, "You two playing another married couple?"
"As I understand it, they aren't married for the whole play," Elsie corrected her, hoping that what Charles had told her was right.
"But they spend a substantial proportion of it flirting," was the reply, stressing the word as- officially, at least- it was supposed to be Elsie's least favourite activity.
"They didn't find us out the last time," Elsie remarked dismissively.
"Sybil and I did," Isobel pointed out.
"But the two of you are just inordinately nosey."
Isobel laughed out loud; it was quite refreshing after all of the carefully concealed opinions upstairs to have someone tell her what they really thought of her. Elsie threw her an exasperated look.
"Better get your name down soon, though," Isobel warned her, "Or you'll be beaten to it." From the look on Elsie's face, she did not have the slightest idea what she meant, "Haven't you seen the list in the corridor?"
Elsie shook her head.
"Miss O'Brien's put her name down for it too."
"What?"
Isobel nodded sagely. Elsie looked truly horrified by the notion, and Isobel was not really surprised.
"She can't...- That's to say there's no way that...- She can't marry Charles!" Elsie finally managed to articulate, gesturing frantically, not caring that it was only a play, the notion too horrible to contemplate at all.
"Like I said," Isobel advised her, "Get your name down quickly."
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