~1~
Mary stuck up her chin impertinently and stamped her left foot, a pouting bundle of anger and indignation, all wrapped up in frills and ribbons.
"I will not, I will not!" She snapped, clenching her fists and meeting Robert stare for stare. "I will not go. I hate it, I hate it!"
Nanny had tried, Fräulein Kelder had tried and Cora had tried. All had met with failure. Now it was Robert's turn to try and reason with the tiny tyrant, and make her leave the house for Church. He had half a mind to just leave her, but Mary could not be allowed to get her own way on this . As it was, he had no time for the stubborn little Miss and merely stared down at her, drawing from his natural advantage of superior height and width.
"Regardless of whether you hate it or not, you will put your hat and coat on and you will be ready to leave for Church with us,"
Mary crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Well," she muttered, "We shall just see about that!"
DA
Robert turned to meet Mary's gaze and squeezed her hand. Her dark eyes stared back at him behind a veil, her face as as calm and composed as always, but a light smile tugged at her red lips. In sparkling white lace and against the crisp air and frosted Church grounds, she made a true Ice Princess, untouched by the cold. Robert found his eyes itching as she squeezed it back.
"Are you ready Darling?" he asked, safely tucking her arm under his.
"More than anything," she replied.
~2~
The sound of Sybil's delighted giggle reached Robert's ears before the grinning imp jumped into sight. Robert smiled down at her and ran a hand through her unruly dark curls. Her round cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and her eyes, blue as a hyacinth in bloom, danced and sparkled. Just shy of her seventh birthday, Sybil truly was an enchanting child. Pretty and engaging, with a laugh and smile that brought life to the sometimes cold and empty halls of Downton. To hear her laugh and see her smile was to think that every day was Spring, and the future held nothing but joy. Robert was certain of this for Sybil, he could see no other life for than one filled with love and delight. His little darling would never be short of friends and would have her pick of husbands. A pretty child, she would make a beautiful young lady and a dazzling bride. She wrapped her arms around his leg and thrust a wilting bouquet of lilies and red roses into his hand.
"For you Papa," she chirped, before racing down the halls, her laugh echoing long after she had gone.
DA
Although one chair still remained empty, Robert and Cora were truly glad to have his remaining two daughters safely home. Embracing each one tenderly and giving them a soft kiss on the cheek, Mary first and then Edith, Cora lead them over to the fire where Robert greeted them in turn. Shooting a nervous look over at Robert, she turned to address the girls.
"Well, how was it?" she enquired, anxious to know that her baby's wedding was the fairy tale Sybil so deserved it to be. Robert kept his eyes fixed on his newspaper, fists white and ears strained.
"Perfectly lovely," Mary replied, her eyes flickering over to Papa, "Sybil made a beautiful bride,"
'Yes,' Robert thought, 'Sybil would have made a beautiful bride,'
"Was she nervous all?" asked Cora gently.
"Oh not a bit," Edith put in, "She was laughing the entire time,"
Robert could not help but smile. Sybil was never one for nerves, of course she would make her way down the aisle laughing, even if it was without her father by her side. As Edith and Mary went on to the describe the day in great detail, Robert found himself almost able to see her. Almost able to hear her.
DA
Robert slid down against the door and sat with his head in his hands. Numb. His eyes were glued shut by crusted over tears. He was slumped against the wall like a sack of old potatoes, his limbs dull weights. Just on the other side of the wall lay Sybil's corpse. His happy, laughing, independent darling's last precious moments with her family having been spent weeping and begging. Her laughter to never be heard again. And yet, Robert could not help but think he could hear it still. A child's joyous cries, light and sparkling. So clear and yet so far and distant. Just an echo, really.
~3~
Robert was sat in his office, going over a fascinating report about turnip production, when he heard the sound of humming drifting lazily from the Great Hall. He put down his pen and papers and listened, a small smile spreading across his lips as he heard the same phrase of Greensleeves play over and over. He pushed back his chair slowly, so that it did not scrape and interrupt the music, and followed the sound.
Peaking round the door he caught sight of Edith, waltzing softly around the room. Her eyes were half closed and her arms held some imaginary suitor, a dreamlike smile dimpling her face and warming her cheeks. She did not hear Robert, for she was in another world entirely. For this world she had discarded her normal afternoon dress and pinafore, and donned a white lace nightgown, borrowed from Mary as the hem trailed after her like a train. The pearl necklace Robert gave her for Christmas was strung round her neck. Upon her golden head was a white net curtain that floated softly as she spun, head erect to keep it from sliding.
Robert coughed gently and Edith looked up in surprise, blinking as though awakening from a heavy slumber. Before the dream ended completely, Robert turned and addressed the empty air before Edith.
"May I cut in?" he asked politely, before reaching out and taking Edith's hands into his. She beamed back at him and placed her bare feet over his brown shoes. Holding her little hands tightly so she didn't slip, Robert danced Edith around the Great Hall, humming along.
"Do you like him Papa?" Edith asked, and Robert suppressed a chuckle as he realised she meant her imaginary suitor.
"Very much so," he said solemnly, "He's handsome, and gallant, and loves you very much,"
Edith smiled in contentment, "He really does,"
'But not as much as me,' Robert thought, but he held his tongue and kept on dancing.
DA
Forgotten, at her own Coming Out Ball, the poor dear. Robert felt a rush of sympathy as he caught sight of Edith stood at the edge of the room, glaring daggers at Mary as she held court. The look on her face could curdle milk, but Robert could see the tears in her eyes. As the music changed, Robert strode over to Edith and took her hand in his.
"Greensleeves darling," he said brightly, "Come and dance with me,"
Edith looked uncertain but allowed herself to be pulled along to the centre of the Ballroom. As they waltzed and turned to the music, Robert gave her a conspiratorial grin.
"Would you dance on your old Papa's shoes once more for old time's sake, or are you simply too old for that now?"
Edith grinned back despite herself, and briefly shook her head. Eyes still watery, she could not yet talk, but still she managed to smile at her Papa, and danced on bravely.
DA
She looked so beautiful. An angel in ivory and lace. Not once, from morning to night, had Edith stopped glowing. Robert once more felt a surge of pride rise within him as he reached out and pulled Edith from her new husband's arms and into his own. The band played a familiar tune that painted the picture of a golden haired little girl in a too big nightgown, causing Robert to swallow and pull Edith closer.
"Shall you dance on my feet?" he asked in a voice that fought to be light and flippant. Edith blinked and Robert felt his stomach clench. Did she not remember?
"Not this time Papa, perhaps when I have bare feet once more,"
Relief flooded his entire being, but the ache in his gut remained. In a few precious hours she would be gone, and he would have to face a future where Edith did not join him for breakfast every day. What would he ever do without her? His grip tightened.
"Do you like him Papa?" Edith asked, and Robert nodded, blinking rapidly and pursing his lips.
"I do. He is kind, and gentle, and he loves you so very, very much," he said, every word a battle to keep from choking. He pulled Edith closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. "But not as much as me," he whispered into her hair, so softly Edith may not have heard it. But he knew she did.
The song ended and Robert was faced once more with Edith's new husband, come to reclaim his bride. A new song began, and Robert found himself forced to let go.