A/N: I have opted for a series of one shot stories that are related to the others in this series because I jump around dates in such a non-linear fashion. A story set in 1945 can be followed next by one set in 1932, followed by 1935, much as one would hear memories coming from a Grandfather or Grandmother. I hope this structure is not too frustrating for the reader. Thank you for reading these stories. I do hope you enjoy. -Secunda
Loyalty
One of the stories Tom and Mary used to love to tell about their children was this one:
Sybil and William conspired to provide their brothers with their favorite treats during the punishment Mary had given over the incident of the soiled day clothes. Katrina, the laundry maid, had two extra days of labor getting out the mud and stains of the twin's play from their suits.
The first day the boys missed their toast and jams. By the second day they were already tired of plain buttered toast at breakfasts and teas. When she heard Mrs. Patmore sprinkled a little sweetened cinnamon onto their breakfast, Mary put a stop to it. Her word was inviolable. She insisted the twins reflect on the fact that they caused more work for someone, and that exploiting the labor of a servant, even in innocence, would never be countenanced.
Mrs. Hughes confided to Carson the evening of the third day. "I know her ladyship meant it to be a lesson but I feel sorry for the little men." Elsie Hughes told him.
"Only slightly so Mrs. Hughes," Carson began, "but hopefully their behavior will better reflect the dignity of the house they were born into."
"Even so, I wish there was a wee bit of wiggle room." Mrs. Hughes clasped her hands together. "The little lads are both full of a healthy imagination. I do hope their spirits will not suffer from this."
Carson cleared his throat. "Mrs. Hughes. They are the sons of Lady Mary and Mr. Branson. Their parents have strong wills that they have thankfully passed on to their sons; the boys will overcome and learn. I know."
Mrs. Hughes looked askance, "Do I detect a trace of pride Mr. Carson?"
The man grumbled, but Elsie Hughes knew he was smiling in his mind.
Upstairs, in the library, Sybbie worked on a book review for their tutor, Mr. Garrity. "Whim?"
Her brother looked up from his worksheet.
"Do you think mother and father unfair to deny Kier and Matty jams for a whole week?"
William put his pencil down, thought a minute then leaned back in his chair. "Not really, but the little rascals sure miss their toast." He picked up his pencil again to resume his lesson then added. "Still, they did cause Katrina an awful lot of work." William leaned over his math again. "If I were Grandpapa I'd add something like 'teach those tykes a thing or two about being gentlemen." William chuckled then worked a couple more multiplication problems.
Sybil, who began to look more like her mother each day, swept her eyes one way, then the next. A plan had germinated in her mind. "What would you say if we snuck them some jellied toast?" Sybbie smiled slyly, her lips pursed, one eyebrow raised to her brother.
William looked up, pointed to her. "I say. Like Al Capone smuggling rum and whiskey to Chicago?" He grinned. "Oh what fun."
Sybbie jumped down from the table and ran to William. "Then it's settled. This is what we shall do." She bent down to his ear.
That night after dinner, with four days left in their brother's embargo, Sybbie waited until the adults were relaxing after dinner. Mrs. Hughes had said good night to the last of the house keeping staff when she remembered her handbag was still in her office. She didn't bother turning on the light in her room and overheard Sybbie whispering to William in the hall, as they paused just outside her door. "Now we'll meet back here at one. Everyone will be asleep and we'll fix those two a couple slices of toast each. We must do it then for Ivy will be up earlier than anyone. Now be certain. Set your alarm."
"But what cabinet holds the bread, the electric toaster, the butter and jams?" William asked.
"That is why we're getting up as early as we are. We'll have to move and work fast." Sybbie answered.
"The kitchen is so big. It'll take us an hour to find everything. And we know nothing of cooking." William countered.
Sybbie frowned. "William Crawley don't fret. We are Crawleys and Bransons. We are determined and shall find a way. We'll scour this kitchen until we find everything. It can't be too difficult."
Mrs. Hughes waited until the two took off before deciding what to do. She wrote a quick note, attaching it to the ice Box and set a loaf of bread and slicing knife on to the table. The last thing she did was to pull the electric toaster down with the cardboard instructions with the key, indicating how everyone in the house preferred their toast. Mrs. Hughes sighed at the depth of her participation in the conspiracy but enjoyed the knowledge the children were sticking together.
In the middle of the night, a few minutes after one, Sybbie and William crept down the stairs to the kitchen. They could not believe what they thought to be their good fortune when they spotted the bread, slicing knife, and toaster with instructions for its operation, set out in anticipation for breakfast.
"Now for the preserves." Whim whispered.
Sybbie noted the setting key and began slicing the bread.
William stepped to the icebox where he read the note from Mrs. Hughes that she had pasted to the door: 'Mrs. Patmore, Please order more strawberry preserves and blueberry preserves from Daisy for next week. I have labeled each jar. –Mrs. Hughes'
"Oh the luck!" William whispered as he pulled out the butter and the preserves.
"This is going much smoother than I thought it ever would." Sybbie smiled at William as he arranged the boy's toast on a plate. "Now remember to get the tray back here before the maids get into their room to make their beds."
"I'll invent a story for Mr. Carson so he doesn't suspect about the dishes, don't worry." William reassured Sybbie.
A few minutes later Sybbie padded down the hall on the second floor, she made her way silently to her brother's room as William balanced the tray carefully. He imitated the same manner James and Alfred used.
Witnessing it all, Mary quietly closed their bedroom door, a hand over her mouth suppressing a laugh. She looked over her shoulder. "Just as you thought, Sybbie and Whim trekking to Kier and Matty's room with jellied toast, I don't have the heart to intervene. Do you?" Mary reached for Tom's hand.
"They're pulling together on the same team. I'd rather them hang together than the alternative. Loyalty like that will be remembered for a lifetime." Tom said this flatly. He gripped Mary's hand tighter than usual, as if he would never let it go.
Mary noticed the far-away look in his eyes then. She wrapped her arms around his chest while looking up into his face. "I know, she acts more like Sybil in every way too, doesn't she?"
Tom returned from his memories then, drew Mary closer. "Nights like this are bittersweet: Matthew and Sybil should be here to see them."
Mary closed her eyes, caressed her cheek against the stubble of his face and stroked the nape of his neck. "I've a feeling they are." She suddenly felt a spasm of the old grief, despite being so close to another man she loved.
Tom kissed the top of her head. "I'm so proud of William and Sybil. They are loyal to their brothers, aren't they?"
Then, as quickly as it came Mary's sadness passed, and she felt only a comfort from being wrapped in Tom's. She kissed his lips. "They are loyal to one another. Just like we are my darling."
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