So today was to be the day. The day he would see her again after little more than two months. He liked to think all those weeks, all those days, hours, minutes spent not seeing her, consciously not thinking about her, would have finally done some good. In some far reaching dark corner of his mind, a whisper: You are a fool, if there ever was one.
Just because she wasn't around for him to look at or talk to didn't mean that he couldn't picture her smile whenever he wanted to. It didn't change the fact that he had made sure to shave extra close this morning and comb his hair with care. It certainly didn't change the fact that he had stayed at Downton for her. If he were smarter, he'd have been long gone by now, Sybil and her mesmerizing smile be damned!
But he could still remember her face that day at York. She had truly looked sorry and worried that he would indeed leave his job. And for all his irritation at the words she'd used – she could take her flattery and shove-!
Regardless of that, she had never actually said that she didn't care for him. Oh, she claimed to be flattered by his attention and she was kind enough to tell him to keep his job, but she had never actually said outright that she did not care about him. She had avoided a straightforward answer.
If he was being honest anyway, he did speak up out of nowhere. What was she supposed to say? She was leaving to train as a nurse, something her family was none too happy with- was she supposed to give up everything life had taught her right there and then? He had sincerely hoped so, but he could see he had been a little hasty.
All he had been trying to do was tell her how he felt. Her going away had made him see what the war had been trying and failing to tell him so far. Life was short. It was now or never and times really were changing. If anyone would be able to see past status for love, it would be his darling Sybil.
Well, so maybe he really had been a little hasty. Had he shown his interest before that? No. He wasn't allowed to, he was the bloody chauffeur. Up 'til then he truly hadn't been anything but sociable; at best he could have been called a friend. Maybe now that she's back, fully an adult with the weight of the war on her shoulders, maybe she'd finally see what he had to offer. He meant what he had said about making something of himself; about doing everything he could to make her happy…
Stop. Stop it now. This is a dangerous road to be driving down. She might not have said the word no, but it was all there on her face when she wouldn't look at him towards the end of his confession. She was above him anyway, the rich daughter of a snooty Englishman. Why would she ever look twice at him?
But maybe in time-
No. No.
But just to see that smile again-
"Mr. Branson, I trust you are well?"
"Yes, Mr. Carson. Quite well." Branson took a sip of his lukewarm tea.
"Shouldn't you be on your way?"
"Yes, Mr. Carson. I was just getting ready to leave." Numbly he stood and pulled his jacket off the back of his chair. Time to face it all.
Branson managed to keep his mind occupied during the drive by reciting some poetry he'd had to memorize as a child. There was no need to panic, really. In fact, he wasn't even worried to see Sybil again. It was just that he'd had a letter yesterday from his sister. His nephew was about six and enjoyed reciting all those sing-song rhymes till the day's end. That's what made him think of this particular poem. He was not trying to distract himself, not trying to keep nerves at bay, not at all. There was nothing to be nervous about!
When he pulled up at the hospital in York, she was already there and waiting in her coat and hat, her suitcases at her feet. His stomach filled with butterflies. My, but she was beau-
He pulled the car to a stop and got out, made himself walk around toward her.
A perfect smile lit up her face. "I almost thought you had forgotten about me."
Branson couldn't help but smile back. "I'd never forget you, Lady Sybil." Damn. He shouldn't have said that-see, there! Her smile darkened a little and she looked away.
"Well, I'm glad you're here. All the other nurses have left already and it looks like rain, anyway," she said, looking off in the distance toward the setting sun, at a small bank of clouds as she moved toward the car. She didn't wait for him to open the car door.
Branson was careful not to look at her as he picked up her suitcase and brought it around to the back. Loudly he said, "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, my lady." He got into the driver's seat, chanced a glance over his shoulder. She was frowning at him. He shouldn't have said that either.
"Look, Branson-"
"I heard Mrs. Patmore in the kitchen this morning, talking about all the things she was preparing for dinner. I think it'll be a right welcoming party for you."
Sybil sighed, "You're not even going to let me try?"
"I expect you'll be happy to be back at home. You haven't missed much, really."
Branson managed to keep up the chatter the whole way back. Any time Sybil tried to break in with something that sounded remotely like an apology, he cut her off. He shouldn't have baited her. He should have known she would try to comment. He couldn't let her, didn't want her condescending apology.
Apology! Ha! His poor bruised, wanting heart needed to hear kind words, hear Sybil's lovely voice tell him that it had all been a misunderstanding- of course, she cared for him! How could she not? He was the only one in that big old backwards house that understood her! Then she'd ask him to forgive her, to tell her that it wasn't too late to run away with him-
Wait.
This was wrong.
Her big sorrowful eyes contained nothing intimate. She didn't want him. She only wanted to apologize for having been part of the whole uncomfortable situation, sorry that she'd led him on.
He didn't need to hear that. He'd made his choice to tell her he cared for her and she turned him away. That was that. He didn't want to hear anything else she had to say on the matter.
Soon they neared Downton grounds. Branson sighed softly, his invented cheerfulness fading. So this was it. He was trying his hardest to listen to that internal voice, the one that kept telling him he was a fool and that Sybil would never look at him twice, but now he was about to be faced with the ultimate challenge. They would reach the door in a minute or so. She would be expecting him to hand her out of the car, like all ladies, fresh faced nurse or not. And he'd have to do it with her mother and family all watching. He just knew everyone would be there outside the front doors to greet her and he had to grab her hand with them watching. He had to do it without anyone suspecting that his stomach was clenching with butterflies. He couldn't even trust himself to look at her, at her face. Something would give him away. A smile, a soft look in his eyes, a too tight hold on her fingers. They would know, see it immediately.
Because he suddenly knew that two months had not been enough. He was as in love with Lady Sybil has he had ever been. And sadly, the best part of his day, the best part of all days from now until he was cold in his grave would be that small moment when he got to hold her hand as she got out of the car. And that was that.