I was inspired to write this by the sheep around Highclere Castle. I don't own the characters. Hope you enjoy it!
Lady Edith Crawley sat in the Etruscan Temple in the grounds of Downton. She had been pondering over ways she could invite Sir Anthony to dinner without seeming to obvious. She had thought about Christmas-it was the perfect diversion, but she didn't want to have to wait that long. She decided to talk to her mother about inviting him and some other neighbours. She stood up and smoothed her skirts before proceeding towards the house. She had not taken two steps when she heard something that froze her in her tracks. A noise she had feared as a child. A noise she hated. A noise which could send shivers down her spine. She slowly looked around, forcing herself to stay calm, before she came face to face with it. Her eyes widened as it stared back at her, barely interested. Its ears twitched as the first few drops of rain began to fall. Edith didn't notice the rain. She turned to get away but was faced with another one-even closer to her. She screamed and started running, one hand on her hat. She hated sheep! She had always thought that Mary would make a good sheep. It was then that she tripped on the uneven ground. Lying there she could have cried. She could hear them, smell them and looking up could see them everywhere. Nightmares from her childhood were filling her mind; getting trampled, even eaten by them. She got up as fast as she possibly could. Her sudden movement scared a few of the nearest sheep, which scurried away. Edith began running again, scattering more of the sheep in all directions. By the time they had reached the house they were covering the garden. She burst through the wooden door and collapsed into the nearest chair, at least now she was safe.
Lady Sybil Crawley was sitting on a bench in the secret Garden. She was reading a new book and was completely engrossed in it. She hardly even noticed Branson sauntering down the path towards her.
"Good book?" How she loved his accent. She looked up as he sat on the other end of the bench.
"Yes. It's quite interesting." Her eyes eagerly took in every detail of her companion. His light brown hair, his clear blue eyes, his shirt not obstructed by his green jacket. There was little point in wearing it on such a warm day, although the clouds were beginning to gather. Sybil turned back to her book, a little embarrassed for staring at him for so long! They sat in a companionable silence until the weather interrupted them. Branson took her hand and stood up to take her back to the house. Instead she pulled him the other way, her free arm snaking round his neck and pulling him closer. He let her hand go, twisted his arms round her waist and brought his lips to hers. Her arm joined the other one around his neck as the kiss intensified. They stood locked in their embrace before he pushed her against some fairly solid shrubs. She pulled him unexpectedly at the same time and the pair lost their balance. They landed, him on top of her, on the ground upsetting the plants; various branches were stretched at full tension. Branson shifted his weight and began to get up but Sybil pulled him back to her, a naughty glint in her eye. They continued on the floor until they heard a twig snap underfoot behind them. Sybil looked into Branson's eyes for a fearful and fleeting moment. Immediately he was on his feet, holding a hand out to her.
"Lady Sybil,"
"Branson, I'm so sorry. I should never have…" She saw the cause of their interruption and started giggling. Branson slowly turned around, hoping he would still have a job after this. He also laughed when he saw the intruder. When they had recovered themselves a bit Sybil said "all that performance and it was a sheep!" That started them both off again.
Lady Mary Crawley had been walking in the Garden when it began to rain. She quickly took shelter from a pillar of Jackdaw's castle. It was not very effective. She looked up at the weather-there was no hope of it easing off. She would have to make a dash for it. She had covered nearly half the distance when she saw Matthew with an umbrella.
"Mary! What are you doing out here?" he positioned the umbrella so that it shielded both of them. "You're soaked" he added.
"I was taking a walk, but the weather caught me out!"
"Here." Matthew handed her the umbrella before casually shrugging his jacket off and placing it around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully at him as he took the umbrella and escorted her across the rest of the lawn.