Not Entirely Proper...
Chapter One:
As I walked down the cold stairs of Downton Abbey, I couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. To think that only a few years earlier, my mother would have walked up and down these very stairs. Not much older than I am now. Eighteen years old. Young but yet still old enough to be expected to marry. I cant understand why aunt Mary insists on trying to find me a husband. It feels odd thinking of my life being spent walking one step behind that of another person for the rest of my life. If father heard me speak in such a way he would give me a look that would kill. Sometimes his socialist views out rank that of his fatherly mindset. But only ever momentarily.
As i reached the end of the stairs, I saw Mr. Carson staring up at me, his old, weathered face still as stony as ever, but yet, for myself and George, there was always a slight hint of softness. " Good morning my'lady" his deep voice boomed through the hollow hall, reflecting of the priceless tapestry and bouncing back to hit us in the face.
"Good morning Carson. Any news for today ? An impromptu game of squash in the garden ? Possibly breakfast and a show." Grinned George. His attempt at humour was met only with silence. It is displays such as this one that lead me to believe that my cousin has been spending far too much time with my father. He is starting to pick up some very strange habits. Like my fathers woeful sense of humour.
"Yes sir, quite good" said the emotionless Carson.
"Come along George, grandma will be getting restless in the drawing room all by herself." I said latching onto his left arm and practically dragging him to the room where breakfast was being served. Thought George was almost a year younger than me, he still towered over me in height and was much stronger than me, a feature in which he took much pride.
All of a sudden George's face became staunch and grim. He, unlike his mother, was very close to our Grandmother Cora and felt her pain almost as strongly as she did herself. "She has been having an awfully hard time of it since Grandpa's death last month hasnt she."
"Well what can you expect ? They were married for close to sixty years. Its bound to be hard on her. "
"Can you imagine it ?" He said looking off into the distance. We had now reached the study, thought my intended destination was the drawing room. George stood slightly hunched with his arms across him. He look so much like his father who sadly, died before i could get to know him, but had seen frequently in photography. I think it was the eyes. Those blue eyes that seemed so kind and good, but much wiser than their years. Its seemed as thought they absorbed all the information around them and within them, all the questions of the world would be answered.
"Sybil ?" Georges voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Yes ?" I said somewhat dazed.
"Could you imagine it ?"
"Imagine what ?"
"Being that inlove." George said, a slight hint of frustration in his voice.
"George I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Could you imagine being so inlove with someone that when they were gone, it felt like everything fell away ? As thought there is nothing left to tie you to this world ? Like everything that you cared about was gone ?" George said, his voice decreasing in volume with each passing word, so much so that by the end of his speech, his voice was but a whisper.
"Well, no. I dont think I could imagine that." We were silent. I don't think either of us knew what to do. George absorbed in his thoughts gazing out upon the estate, me, sitting in one of the comfy arm chairs in grandfathers study staring awkwardly at my shoes and at the atrocious floral pattern on the rug beneath it.
"Sybie ?!" I heard a call from the foyer. As the thick Irish accent called out my name, i felt comforted and safe. Like i was home. How i longed for that accent, but due to my prolonged exposure to the grandeur of the Crawleys, i had developed the same accent as my mother had once had. This and my long brown hair were the only things i shared with my late mother.
"Daddy, we're in here." I called from my seat in the study. As the door opened, i saw the familiar kind blue eyes, my eyes, staring back at me. A small tuft of greying hair was pushed back from those eyes as he spoke.
"What are you doing in here ? Your grandmother is lookin' for you all over the place. You both were supposed to speak to her about your trip next month over breakfast." He said directing the conversation not only to me, but to George now as well .
"We were on our way there when we got... side tracked. I promise we will make it up to her for being two minutes late" I said rising from my seated position and walking across the room to where my father was sitting and planting a playful kiss on his cheek.
"Dont push your lucky with her this morning missus. She isnt herself at the minute." I could tell he meant it because the playful grin was gone from his face now, leaving now trace of it ever being there in the first place.
"Okay, we will head in now." I said hurrying. One thing is for sure, this was going to be a long morning.
Okay, so if any of you people were actually kind enought to read all the way to the bottom of this entry i thank you. If you liked it i would very much like to upload more. Just a little bit of information, my spelling is attrocious so I do aplogise for that now, and secondly, everything i write may not be 100 % historically accurate but i must stress that this is a work of fiction and that none of the characters apart from the ones i have created myself are mine (Obviously)
Well, thanks for taking the time.
Love always ,
Ava x