A/N: This is a secret santa gift for cassiemortmain for the 2018 S/T Secret Santa Exchange. This fic mostly follows the 2x04 timeline. Sorry it took so long.
STORY REQUEST: Show Era-something romantic, secret and sexy would be perfect - secret (mutual?) crush, secret affair, secret engagement/marriage, etc are all good. Nothing too angsty; a bit of drama with perhaps a dash of jealousy is fine, but ultimately a happy ending. Set at Downton before Tom and Sybil have children.
Thanks to Tripp3235 for a quick beta.
Disclaimer: Not mine. All Downton Abbey characters belong to Julian Fellowes and ITV. I'm just playing with them.
In the Dark
"We better hurry, love," said Tom, before he leaned in to bestow a kiss on Sybil's nape after he had helped her button the blouse at the back. "We need to return to Downton before the dressing gong, which is in less than an hour." The sun had already set.
"I'm hurrying," replied Sybil, fumbling with the clasp of the chain that held her claddagh ring. Glancing at her husband of six months, she asked, "Can you help? I'm butter-fingered today."
Tom put on the cap of his chauffeur uniform as the finishing touch before he reached out to take the chain from her. They had married secretly in a civil ceremony in Leeds mere weeks after her 21st birthday last year.
In a rare opportunity, they did not have to fumble in the dark or by the light of a single candle. Their lovemaking had been somewhat frantic at first since Sybil had not been able to slip down to the chauffeur's cottage in two weeks due to her duties at both the convalescent and the regular hospital, but she had been able to trade for three French letters from the wounded and convalescing soldiers for this quick getaway. In the end, they used two.
"It's on," said Tom, his fingers lightly tracing her neck after he fastened the clasp. "Are you ready?"
After a quick sweep of the room with her eyes, Sybil nodded, while she tucked the chain and ring inside her blouse. "Yes, let's go."
With a quick kiss, they left the room.
On the drive from Leeds to just the south of Ripon, Sybil sat next to her husband, holding his hand when he didn't have to shift gears. It wasn't often that they could express their love for one another publicly, so they took advantage whenever they had the opportunity.
She loved seeing her husband in his chauffeur uniform, so she spent the drive gazing at his features dreamily. Whenever he could take his eyes off the road, he'd turn to her and give her a dazzling smile that made her weak at the knees.
"I always despise this part of the drive," said Sybil, seeing the outskirts of Ripon. Much too soon, she would have to move to the back of the motor.
"After the war, we'll be able to reveal our love and we can move to Ireland." Tom smiled at her, briefly taking his eyes off the road. "We can be together anytime, anywhere."
"I can't wait." She smiled widely and lifted their intertwined hands to her lips to kiss the back of his.
After a brief pause, he asked without taking his eyes off the road, "When do you think you can visit the cottage next? We really didn't have enough time together this afternoon with the other errands."
Looking out at the early evening shadows of a first quarter moon, she said, "It won't be tonight. With Sir Richard at Downton, we'll be expected to make conversation in the small drawing room and I have an early shift in the morning."
"You know where to find me when you can slip away." He glanced quickly at her countenance.
She nodded distractedly. "Maybe tomorrow night after my shift, but I can't guarantee."
"I know." His thumb caressed the back of her intertwined hand. He then made a turn into a secluded, woodcutting area. Stopping the motor, he added, "Time to turn back into pumpkins."
Before he could exit the vehicle, she pulled him to her for a last kiss. After the afternoon they had together, short as it was, she couldn't bear parting from him even if it was only within the vehicle.
It started as a quick kiss that evolved into something more as Tom sought access to her mouth with his tongue and she granted it easily. After several minutes, he reluctantly pulled back before he laid her on the front seat and had his way with her. God, he loved her so. "Happy Anniversary, love." After staring into her her eyes for a moment, he straightened them on the seat and adjusted his uniform.
"Happy Anniversary!" She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before patting her hair and repinning her hat. "I better move to the back before we go any further." This afternoon had been their six-month anniversary celebration.
Unable to form words, he only nodded. He adjusted his trousers to make things a little more comfortable.
She quickly slipped from the front seat to the back and leaned back into the squabs to stare into the night.
Finally when he was composed once more, he called out to the back, "Are you ready to resume your journey, Lady Sybil?" He will definitely need to take matters into his own hands tonight though they had already been together twice that afternoon. Her scent had intoxicated him.
"Yes, Branson." She needed to resume her role as Lady Sybil Crawley. "Proceed home."
"Yes, my lady." He stared into the mirror at her and winked.
She blushed and turned to look at the scenery. Any more interactions now and it would take much more effort to slip back into the role of Lady Sybil. It was already difficult, there was no need to make it worse.
The remainder of the ride was quiet with each trying desperately not to recall the time they spent together that afternoon.
After they arrived at Downton, Tom stopped the motor and walked his way around to hand Sybil down. He held her hand a moment longer than necessary under the watchful gaze of Carson, who had exited the front door to wait on her. Tom loved to flout their relationship right under the nose of the very conservative servant.
"Good evening, my lady." Carson was holding the mallet in one hand and opening the door for her with the other. "I was just about to ring the dressing gong. Was your trip to the bookstore in Leeds fruitful?"
Sybil looked around at the soldiers who were dining in the Great Hall and thought about when the war would end and when she and Tom could reveal their love. When she started up the stairs, she held up the book to show the butler. "Indeed it was."
"Excellent," said Carson, watching the young lady walk up the stairs with a smile.
"Branson has the things that Mama and Mary wanted from Ripon, do you mind bringing the items to them?" asked Sybil, in part to distract the butler.
"Of course, my lady," said Carson before he walked to the gong to strike it. Some things never changed even with a house full of convalescing soldiers.
Sybil watched his demeanor while she walked up the stairs and noticed nothing alarming. They always had to be so vigilant to keep those around them in the dark about their relationship.
She entered her room and just managed to hide the chain with the claddagh ring when Anna arrived. The ladies maid quietly helped her change out of her afternoon dress into her evening attire. Sybil desperately hoped that she had been able to sufficiently clean herself of the scent of sex with the tepid water at the hotel. She could douse herself with strong scent to mask it, but since she never liked them, it could be a clue against them, and Sybil loathed to give anyone a hint. Anna would never say anything to her, but she was always worried that she would say something to Mary or Mrs. Hughes.
Once Sybil's evening dress was on, Anna asked, "Will there be anything else, my lady?"
Rummaging through the jewelry for that evening, she looked up and smiled. "No. Thank you, Anna. I know you still have to tend to my sisters."
"Thank you, Milady." Anna picked up the discarded clothing and closed the door behind her.
Sybil let out a sigh of relief. It was always so difficult to return to and stay in the role of Lady Sybil Crawley after an afternoon like they had. The sound of his grunts as he thrusted into her still rang in her ears. She could also still feel the ghost of his touch on various parts of her body as they had made love that afternoon. Now that Anna was gone, she could also hide the claddagh ring by attaching it to her garter, so that it was always with her even when she couldn't wear the chain about her neck.
She had barely managed to put on her jewelry a half hour later when Mary entered the room. Sybil smiled at her sister through the mirror.
Mary returned her sister's smile. "Anna said you were honouring us with your presence at dinner."
"It's easier here than in the hospital." She patted her hair and adjusted her earrings. "I can always get changed back into my uniform if I need to. Did Carson send up the items you and Mama wanted?"
"He did." Mary then looked slightly concerned. "What were you talking to Branson about? When I came into the yard?"
Sybil startled slightly and adjusted her necklace to cover up. "Nothing really. I was just ordering the motor for this afternoon." She walked away from the mirror to avoid Mary's gaze. Does she know? Her heart raced with worry.
"It looked a lot more than just ordering the motor." Mary looked at Sybil knowingly.
Sybil picked up her gloves. "Why were you there?" She countered defiantly to cover her racing heart.
"Because I was about to order the motor. That is why one talks to chauffeurs, isn't it? To plan journeys by road."
"He's a person," said Sybil defensively. "He can discuss other things." The sound of Tom's voice telling her about the hotel room he'd booked for that afternoon ran through her head. You don't know the half of it, Mary.
"I'm sure he can," said Mary, looking down at her hands for moment. "But not with you."
In a moment of panic, Sybil blurted out the first thing that came to mind to throw her sister off the scent. "What do you want from me? Am I to see if Sir Richard Carlisle has a younger brother? One who's even richer than he is?"
Looking disconcerted, Mary said, "Darling, what's the matter with you? I'm on your side."
"Then be on my side!" said Sybil. She then pulled on her gloves. "I'm heading to the drawing room."
Mary was about to retort when Edith entered Sybil's room. "Let's head downstairs before Mama is upset that we've kept Sir Richard waiting."
Sybil smiled at Edith and started walking toward the door. "Shall we?"
The days flew by after that afternoon and the secret spouses didn't manage to do more than see one another across a crowded room until Sybil had another shift at the hospital a week later.
"Can you take me to the hospital at half past ten?" asked Sybil, when she entered the garage. "I have a shift at eleven."
Tom dropped what he was working on to pull her out of the view of the doors and into his arms. "I've missed you." He leaned in to kiss her and Sybil surrendered quickly to his insistent embrace and returned it with a ferocity of her own. They had dearly missed one another. Tom played with the few escaped curls at the nape of her neck which drove her wild. She desperately wanted to run her fingers through his hair but dared not mess it up in broad daylight, nearly out in the open. So instead, she reached down to caress the bulge in front of his trousers. This caused Tom to break the kiss with a hiss. "Is that what you really want?" His voice was low and growly.
"Well, we really don't have time for the other," whispered Sybil, looking at his chest. Glancing up at his face, she added with a smile, "When's your next trip?"
"Not until I drive you to the hospital." He took the opportunity to kiss her neck. In between kisses, he added, "But I still have several things to finish with the motor before that."
"How long do you need?" Her eyes closed and head tilted to give him more access. She breathed out slowly to enjoy his attentions with as little sound as possible.
"About an hour, plus twenty minutes to change into my uniform," he said, playing with the chain that held her claddagh ring while he kissed her pulse point. "That leaves us about 15 minutes."
"I'll take it as a challenge," said Sybil, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. "Let's hurry into the cottage."
With that, Tom took Sybil's wrist and firmly led them through the door to his sleeping quarters.
After Sybil closed the door behind her, Tom walked to the front of the fireplace and pulled out an old gardener's cushion from behind a cupboard, while she went to pull the towel by the wash tub. The cottage was dark despite the single window by the bed since it faced the overgrown leafy foliage that divided the garage from the rest of the grounds. The fireplace held dying embers from the fire that had kept the cottage warm the night before.
When Sybil met him in front of the fireplace, he pulled her in for another needful kiss, moving to her earlobe, he asked, "Are you certain, we don't have time for the other? I still have the French letter from last week."
"I want to save it for later when we have more time in case I can't trade for another soon." Sybil moved quickly to unbutton the front of his trousers to release him. While he kissed her neck, she stroked him until she heard him gasp. "Why don't you sit down before you fall down?"
While he moved to sit, he asked, "Don't you want me to help you along?" He looked at her with hooded eyes.
Sybil placed the towel she had been holding onto the gardener's cushion and knelt down on it in front of him. "Not with less than 15 minutes available." Just before she took him into her mouth, she added, "I expect you to take care of my needs first next time." He tasted a little salty, which she loved.
"Whatever you want, love," Tom leaned against the back of the chair, head pressed against it in ecstasy. Soon Tom was moaning when Sybil's tongue slipped beneath the skin, encircled the tip and wiggled underneath playing with the taut sinew. He gripped the arms of the chair to gain some control over himself, but she knew all the good spots. With several days since he last cleaned himself out, he was rapidly losing control.
When she felt he was nearing the end, she reached into the trouser opening and gently cradled his jewels and that triggered him as she expected. All his pent up energy was reaching its peak. She felt him tighten in her hands and mouth, and release. "Oh God!" was muffled by his own hand as he reached his high. He shuddered and spilt onto her tongue. The slightly sour, slightly bitter, viscous fluid splashed about in her oral cavity, which she reflexively swallowed. He was gasping to keep as quiet as possible in the aftermath and sagged in the chair.
Caressing her cheek with his rough, calloused hand, he smiled tiredly at her. "You will be the death of me."
Sybil smirked at him and leaned her head against one of his knees.
"And I love you for it." He yawned. "Now I want to sleep, you minx."
Looking at the clock on the mantle, she added, "We have a few minutes before you have to finish work on the motor."
Another yawn escaped him. "Can you make some tea for me? I will need some before I start driving."
"Will I have to go pump the water?" She arched her eyebrows at him.
"No, I did that this morning." Sitting up straighter, he added, "There should be plenty in the bucket. Thank you."
She grinned at him. "I best start on that so that it will be cool enough to drink before you start working on the motor again." Using his knee as leverage, she stood up and kissed him quickly before putting the cushion away and handing him the towel with which to clean himself.
Later that evening, Sybil was surprised to find her grandmother at Downton and staying for dinner. She knew that the Dowager Countess disliked her former home being turned into a convalescent hospital and rarely visited anymore. It was during the wait in the drawing room that she discovered the older woman was visiting to see her granddaughters. She had spent the afternoon with Edith and Mary and was hoping to talk to Sybil now that she had returned from the hospital. This automatically put Sybil on her guard. Did Mary say something to Granny? What does she want with me? However, they were called to dinner before she could ask any questions.
During the first course of dinner, the Dowager Countess spoke up. "So, Sybil, what are you up to, dear?"
Trying to sound nonchalant, Sybil replied, "Nothing much. Working. I don't have time to get up to anything else."
Looking over to her eldest granddaughter, the grandmother added, "Only, Mary and I were talking about you. You know, the other day."
Feeling her heartbeat rise, Sybil managed just a short response, "Oh?" She turned to glance meaningfully at her eldest sister. Her eyes narrowed slightly as if to ask, "What did you say?"
Mary's eyes widened in surprise and mouthed, "I didn't say anything."
The Dowager Countess continued, "Yes, you see, sometimes in war, one can make friendships that aren't quite … appropriate. And can be awkward, you know, later on. I mean, we've all done it. I just want you to be on your guard."
Thinking of her husband, she reached down to touch her ring attached to her garter under her dress. Reacting with more emotion than she intended, she asked, "Appropriate for whom? When have you ever done anything that was inappropriate?"
Looking slightly offended and a little uneasy, her grandmother responded by ignoring her second question, "Well, don't jump down my throat, dear. I'm only offering friendly advice."
The dinner table conversation returned to an issue with her father's former valet, but Sybil knew that wasn't the end of it. The Dowager Countess would ask more questions after dinner.
Sybil was changed into her night things first with Anna's help once the Dowager Lady Grantham left. At first, she wasn't going to go see him that evening, but the more she thought about the conversations with her grandmother, the more she needed her husband. So once she figured he had returned from dropping off the Dowager Countess, she redressed in her uniform, put the chain with the claddagh ring about her neck, put her hair in a simple bun and headed to the garage.
Tom was just doing his regular check of the motor after a trip when Sybil arrived.
"We must talk." She entered the garage and headed straight toward the door to the cottage.
Tom watched her curiously. "Put the kettle on for tea and I'll join you as soon as I'm done here."
She turned to nod to him before entering the cottage.
Once inside the cottage, she lit the single candle on the mantel and added a couple of logs to the banked embers. She then poured the remaining water in the kettle into the wash basin, filled the kettle and hung it over the fire once it was fully ablaze.
She had just added the tea leaves into the pot when Tom entered.
He closed the door behind him and hung the cap on the hook on the side of the armoire by the door. "What happened, love? Why are you back in uniform?"
She walked over to him and started to help him unbutton his uniform and it all came out in a rush. "I couldn't come here in my nightclothes, so I changed into something that no one would ask about, if I was on the grounds this late. It's Granny. She's fishing around about inappropriate friendships and I panicked and didn't manage it very well."
Tom took her hand in his and caressed it, noticing that she hadn't put on her ring, which she normally did when she was at the cottage for more than a few minutes. He realized then that she must be very agitated, so he focused on using a calming tone. "Tell me what happened first." He lead her to the bed to sit.
She looked up at him nervously. "It started at dinner. No, it started earlier really. Remember, when Mary came to order the motor when we were talking about our anniversary trip that morning?"
Tom nodded.
"After we were dressed for dinner that evening, Mary came to my room to talk about our conversation that morning when she came upon us. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier." She looked up from their intertwined hands to look him in the eye. "I just didn't have an opportunity."
"It's alright, love." Tom patted her hand to soothe her. "We've both been busy. Then what happened."
Sybil stood up to expend her pent up energy. Rubbing her forehead to help her recall, she added, "At dinner, Granny mentioned that she and Mary had spoken about me and then she started to talk about inappropriate relationships."
"Does your sister suspect?" This had always been their worry that someone would suspect and it would devolve from there.
"No. Maybe. I don't know." Sybil shrugged.
Tom evened his breathing to calm himself. "Did she tell your grandmother about our conversation?"
Sybil put one hand on her hip and held out her other hand at Tom. "She says she didn't say anything, but why would Granny bring up inappropriate relationships all of a sudden?"
He looked up at her. To keep his wife focused, he asked, "Then what happened?"
"After dinner, in the drawing room, she asked if I had someone special." She waved her hands up while she paced the room as if to ask why. "I told her I was too busy with my shifts to have time for someone. Then she asked if I was interested in someone. I told her that I didn't want to become involved with someone who might die. Which is true. Why doesn't she asks these things of Mary and Edith?"
Tom stood up and took her hands in his. Looking at her, he said, "Because Lady Mary is involved with Sir Richard and then there was Mr. Matthew before that and Lady Edith was involved with Sir Anthony before the war. She doesn't know who you are involved with so she's worried that you've chosen someone they don't know about."
"What if all this comes out?" Sybil glanced at her husband with the look of fear and worry in her eyes.
"What if it does?" Tom sighed. "You're of age and we've married. They can't unmarry us and divorce is difficult. Look at Mr. Bates. We'll figure something out."
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I know. I just want this war to end so that we can really start our lives together."
He pulled her into his arms and held her. "It will."
She felt so safe when she was in his arms. His scent comforted her.
Suddenly, the hiss of the boiling water falling into the fire drew them out of their embrace.
She walked to the fireplace and pulled the boiling kettle from the fire with a hook. "I best make the tea."
"Let me change out of my uniform." Tom continued to unbutton his jacket. "Were you planning to stay the night?"
"Not the whole night," She was pouring the remaining water into the teapot. "But at least the next few hours. I've missed you and I need your comfort."
"I've missed you, too, love." He shrugged out of the jacket and she took it from him to hang up in the armoire.
"I was able to trade for two other French letters this shift." She pulled them out of her apron pocket after hanging up the jacket. "Another transport of soldiers came in and they had some."
"Doesn't anyone suspect that you're using these?" He took the French Letters, placed them in a drawer and handed her his shirt.
"No, because these are placed in a communal trading bin and I trade other things I can purchase in the area for the French Letters." She hung up the shirt and looked at her handsome husband. "I'm not the only one trading out contraception."
She was about to take his trousers from him, when he stopped her. "Why don't you make the tea and I'll hang these up myself?"
She nodded and started to make their tea. "Do you mind if we were to take our tea in bed? I'd like to be held and there isn't anywhere else comfortable."
"Only if you take off the apron and dress and put on your ring." He smiled and winked at her. "You are Lady Sybil Branson after all."
"How could I have forgotten to put on the ring?" Sybil asked no one in particular and started to take the chain off her neck.
Tom shrugged. "Because you were truly worried about what happened with your grandmother."
"I guess," agreed Sybil. "Must I take off the dress?" She placed the claddagh ring on her left finger with the heart pointing toward her arm like Tom had done when they married. "I wasn't planning for us to use the French letters."
Tom looked up from the wash basin. "Yes, it's stiff and scratchy. Not at all conducive to holding you in bed."
"Very well." She then proceeded to undress.
After he washed, he took their teacups and saucers and placed them on the nightstand. He then brought the single candle from the mantle to the teacups. He sat up in bed and sipped his tea while he watched his wife undress to her shift. He might as well enjoy the show.
After placing her garments on the chair closest to the bed, she joined her husband in bed.
Tom placed an arm around his wife and kissed the top of her head. "It's been lonely here the last week. It's not the same when I don't have any time with you all week."
"I know." She sighed and snuggled closer. "I tried to come down Tuesday night, but there was a setback with Captain Brown. I ended up sitting up with him until the morning, when they took him back to the hospital."
"He's the one with the stomach wound?" asked Tom, caressing her arm.
"The very same." She wiped away a tear. "He developed an infection. He died yesterday."
"I'm sorry to hear, love." He pulled her closer and just let her cry, while he comforted her. He knew each death always drained her. It was just like this when Lieutenant Courtney took his own life, which eventually lead to their marriage.
Soon afterward, she fell asleep and he let her rest in his arms until early the next morning, when he woke her up to send her back to the big house in time to change back into a new uniform for her next shift that afternoon.
Later that afternoon, Mary accosted Sybil while she was counting bandages to bring up to the ward. "Sybil. I never said anything to Granny, honestly."
Sybil continued counting the bandages. "Then why did she suddenly start talking about inappropriate friendships out of nowhere?"
Mary closed her eyes in exasperation. "She thinks you must have a beau, and if we don't know about him, then you have to be keeping him secret. It's just Granny being Granny. Don't make such a thing of it."
Sybil sighed, while thinking that it was exactly what Tom had told her the previous night. "I don't deserve to be told off. Not by her or by you. I don't have a beau." I have a husband. She then closed the drawer and started walking through the maze of the downstairs rooms.
Mary followed. "Is there no one who interests you?"
Sybil rolled her eyes. "Many people interest me, but like I told Granny, I don't want to become involved with someone who might die. It hurts too much already and they were only friends."
"Like Captain Brown," said Mary knowingly.
"Yes, like him and Lieutenant Courtney and Major Stewart." Sybil took a breath to calm herself down. "I'm not like you. I can't become involved with someone I didn't love. I would be devastated if someone I loved like a beau were to die." Thank God Tom has a heart murmur. They move through various corridors.
Suddenly Mary asked, "Is that why you speak to Branson?"
Sybil's heart jumped to her throat. "In part ..." They walked up some stairs to the main level and exited a door.
Mary looked at her little sister in confusion. "What do you mean in part?"
Looking down, she responded, "We have to have something to talk of when he drives me to the hospital and he understands my work more than you or Mama or Papa do."
"Has he done anything I should tell Papa about?" Mary asked looking slightly alarmed.
"No," said Sybil firmly while looking Mary in the eye. "He is my sounding board. I tell him about my work and the people I look after like Captain Brown. Like the way you speak to Anna about your day. I could tell you but I'm sure you'd be bored to tears and Anna draws the line at blood. It helps make this war less difficult to bear."
Mollified, Mary said, "So long as that's all he is or else I'd have to tell Papa."
Sybil gave her sister a look. "Would you like me to tell Papa about you talking to Anna about your day?"
Mary looked at Sybil like she'd grown a second head. "No."
"Good," said Sybil with a smile, knowing she now had the upper hand. "Then there's nothing for you tell Papa about."
Later that evening, Sybil was able to escape to the garage after she managed to take off her apron and headscarf while on a break. Closing the garage door, she walked into Tom's arms. "So, Bates is back. Papa must be pleased."
Tom was smiling with her in his arms and gave her a kiss. "And Mr Carson won't be sorry."
Looking at her husband with a more serious demeanor, she said, "Tom, there's something you ought to know. Mary thinks you're my sounding board."
Tom lifted his eyebrow quizzically.
"She asked me about why I talk to you after telling me again that she didn't tell Granny anything." Sybil ducked her head. "And I told her that I talk to you like she talks to Anna about her day. After all, we need something to talk about on the rides to and from the hospital."
"Does she suspect that there's more?" asked her husband, somewhat concerned.
She shook her head. "Not at the moment, but we'll have to be more careful especially around her and Granny."
Tom looked around. "Should we go into the cottage then? We're a little exposed here if someone were to come into the garage."
"I can't stay tonight," said Sybil in a quieter voice, looking at anywhere but her husband's face.
Puzzled, he asked, "Why not?"
"My shift isn't over yet. This is just my break." Sybil moved away from Tom, needing the separation when she gave him the bad news.
"Then come over after your shift," Not wanting to let her go completely, he held her hand. "I'd wait up for you."
"Colonel Morton needs me tonight." She glanced at him, expecting to see a frown. "He developed a cough and fever this evening."
"And your husband doesn't?" Tom was getting a little testy, but he still held her hand.
Without thinking, she replied, "I gave you your release yesterday." As soon as those words passed her lips, she wanted to take them back.
Affronted, he dropped her hand and pointed at her. "A marriage isn't only about sex, Sybil. It means spending time with your spouse, secret or not."
Upset for being chastised like a child, she threw in his face, "I spent time with you last night."
"Where I comforted you when you showed up suddenly." He gestured at her with his hand. "You are high on my priorities." He pointed to himself. "Where am I in yours?" He pointed at her again with a grimace on his face.
"That's not fair," she said in a heated tone. "I love my work."
"What work?" He gestured with his hands. "Bringing cooling towels to a lot of randy officers?" He then gestured at her. "Look, it comes down to whether or not I'm high enough in your priorities. That's all. That's it. The rest is detail."
With that Sybil stomped out of the garage and slammed the door.
With Sybil too angry at first and waiting for him to make the first move, they didn't see much of one another until the concert for the soldiers several weeks later. During that time, Tom realized that there was very little he could do, should his wife decide to avoid him. With his position, there was no manner in which he could persuade her to speak to him, if she was decided against it, without bringing undo attention to himself.
It gave him the opportunity to contemplate their marriage and what she meant to him. A couple of weeks in, Pratt let slip that he had been taking Sybil to the hospital for her shifts, so she was actively avoiding him. In the end, since he loved her beyond measure, he accepted their current situation.
During the magic show portion of the concert, after Sybil placed blankets on all those who wanted them, she stood in front of her spouse by the virtue that it was the only space remaining in the back. During the "If you were the only girl" song that Lady Mary sang, Tom, being so close to his wife, couldn't help looking at her, mesmerized by her beauty. He desperately hoped that she would forgive him when he found a chance to apologize that evening. He knew he had to take whatever opportunity this concert gave him or this impasse could continue for a long time. Neither noticed when Mary's eyes lit in suspicion at his look, but she was immediately interrupted by the return of Matthew and it was all forgotten for the time being.
After the event while the soldiers were returning to their beds or the Great Hall to discuss the concert, Tom was still standing just behind Sybil and saw his chance. He leaned in slightly and whispered urgently, "I'm sorry about what I said the last time we spoke. I know your work is important to you." He quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching and thankfully no one was before continuing, "Will you forgive me and come to the cottage after I take your grandmother to the Dower House tonight?"
"I don't know," said Sybil in a low tone, trying to remain nonchalant. She had forgiven him nearly a week ago when she found herself wanting to go to the garage, but kept to herself until he decided to apologize, not realizing that should she choose to avoid him, there was little he could do to reach her. "You'll know if I show up later after my shift." She then walked away from him.
Heartened by the lack of negativity in her response, he smiled when she had to leave to help a soldier in need. Before long, he was asked by Carson to take the Dowager Countess home and he had to put it all behind him to do his job.
With the excitement of Matthew's return, it was extremely easy to sneak out of the big house after she had dispensed with Anna's help. She simply wore her uniform on top of her night clothes and wound her braid into a bun.
When she reached the garage, Tom and the motor had not yet returned, so she just went directly into the cottage and lit the candle on the mantle to welcome him home as he had wanted her to do in the past. She then put several logs onto the banked embers to boil the water for tea. Just when she put the kettle under the fire, she heard the garage door open and the sound of the motor. She then took the opportunity to take off her uniform and lay it on one of the chairs near the bed and unravel the bun, leaving the braid. She also removed the claddagh ring from its chain and slipped it on her finger. "Let's get the tea things ready," she said to the empty cottage.
The kettle had boiled and the tea had fully steeped by the time Tom entered the cottage crestfallen. He had deliberately taken longer to examine the motor in hopes that Sybil would arrive and he had finally turned off the lights in the garage and walk into the cottage when he had given up on her. It will likely be a long time before he had another chance to speak with her.
Curses for himself were on his lips when he stepped into his sleeping quarters, cap in hand. He was surprised by the warm fire. He dropped the cap on the table and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the much dimmer light before he saw his beautiful wife pouring a cup of tea at the dining table and his jaw dropped. Before long, his heart was racing. "You're here," he whispered.
"Welcome home!" Sybil smiled while she stirred the tea and offered it to him. "How was the trip?"
He had fantasized about Sybil welcoming him home before and he had asked her to do that for him sometime but it had never worked out in the past. He blinked several times to see if it was a dream and it took Sybil walking past to close the door to the garage to wake him from his trance.
He turned to her. "Thank you for coming!" He whispered and brought his hand up cautiously to caress her cheek.
She closed her eyes and leaned into the caress.
He continued to apologize. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've missed you. I can't believe you're here." His voice cracking with emotion.
Placing her hand over his to show her acceptance of his apology, she opened her eyes and showed him her love through them. "I'm here."
He placed his other hand on her shoulder gingerly, as if he wasn't sure she was corporeal. "When I didn't see you come, I thought I lost my opportunity to convince you."
"I'm real." She smiled at him and pulled him into an embrace. Leaning up, she kissed him.
At first, he didn't respond, but gradually, her kiss was able to convince him she was truly there and he returned it with some fervor. He then moved to kiss her hair. "I've missed you so much."
Leaning closer to him, she said, "I've missed you, too, darling."
Inhaling the scent of her hair, he relaxed a little. "You don't know how much it tortured me to learn that you'd been asking Mr. Pratt to take you to the hospital these last weeks."
"At first, I was so upset with you." She played with the buttons on his uniform jacket. "Eventually, even after I had forgiven you in my heart, I wanted you to make the first move." She looked up at him.
He pulled her closer as if worried he'd lose contact with her. "I wanted to apologize a couple of weeks ago, but I quickly realized there wasn't any way for me to reach out to you if you chose to avoid me without drawing attention to us. If we want to keep everyone here in the dark, there was nothing I could do. I couldn't just seek you out. I couldn't write to you without the fear of discovery. It was just too much of a risk to take to expose our situation before we were ready."
Understanding dawned on Sybil's face and she reddened with guilt. "How foolish and childish of me not to realize that? I could have ended our separation long ago. I'm so sorry."
"There's nothing to forgive, love. Anger often clouds our perception." He lowered his head, ashamed of his role in the fight they had. "And that's on me."
She reached up to caress his face. "I'm equally to blame since I stopped being angry weeks ago."
He turned and kissed her hand tenderly. He then pulled away from her to look at her attire. "Staying the night?" He grinned and fingered the thin material of her night dress. Despite having been married for six months, he had never seen her in her night clothes with her hair in a braid. The nights she had previously sneaked over to the cottage, she had always been dressed in her uniform.
"Yes." She smiled at him. "If you'll have me."
"Of course." He was mesmerized by her smiling eyes. "Let us have tea and you can tell me all about your last few weeks."
He led her to the table and pulled the chair out for her before taking off his jacket and sitting down himself and holding her hand.
After their tea had gone cold and they had moved to in front of the fire with her on his lap, they had spent some time mesmerized by the flames and in each other. Tempted by her nearness, he nuzzled her and before long they were kissing passionately. Her moans from their kissing was his undoing.
"Shall we head to bed?" he whispered against her pulse point, one hand fondling a breast. "I promised to take care of your needs first and this hard chair isn't terribly conducive to that."
She slid off his lap and held out a hand to him. "Lead the way."
He didn't need to be asked twice. He quickly stood up and picked her up like he had after the by-election and carried her to bed. Gently setting her down on it, he leaned in and kissed her. Sybil wanted to undress him as quickly as possible, so she pulled him down onto the bed with her, so they were now lying side-by-side. While they deepened the kiss, she started working on the buttons on his vest first and then his shirt. There was a level of urgency to her desire to reach the skin of his torso. He ran his hand down her profile and grabbed a handful of her behind, causing her to moan. Then he went lower until he reached the hem of her night dress and slid underneath to her bare skin up the inside of her thigh to the apex where he found her knickers already wet.
"God, I've missed you," he whispered on her skin.
"Take off your shirt, Tom," she begged. "I need to run my hands down your back."
He then disengaged long enough to take off his vest, his shirt, his trousers and his shoes and socks. He could barely see her by the light of the single candle that if it wasn't for the fire, they might have been in the dark.
While he was disrobing, Sybil took the opportunity to pull the bed covers off and scampering underneath. Though they had a fire and it was already March, it was still Yorkshire and thus slightly chilly.
When he joined her in bed, he asked, "Would you mind moving to lie across the bed? This will be much easier. You can keep your top half covered in a blanket if you wish."
Sybil rearranged herself in the manner requested. Her husband moved her night dress up to her waist and started kisses from her knee up the inside of her thighs to her apex. He then removed her knickers and placed them on the chair with her uniform. Opening her legs to get better access, he first found her nub and started running circles around it with his thumb, causing her to gasp in pleasure. Then he inserted two fingers from the other hand into her while he continue to circle her pleasure centre. "Faster, Tom! Faster!" So he speeded up both his motions. Just as she was about to peak, he removed his thumb and started licking her instead. The slightly salty taste of her hardening him. The flicks of the tongue built her up again and she placed her hands on each side of his face and held him closer. "Oh yes! Oh yes!" she panted. Suddening, she sat up and started shaking from the high she just experienced.
When she finally loosened the grip on his head, he asked with a grin, "How was that Mrs. Branson?"
Sybil was still speechless but grinning ear to ear. She then moved back to lying on the bed in the usual manner. Tom took the opportunity to divest himself of his pants and was gloriously naked. He looked at his wife with a sly grin and asked, "Perhaps it's time to divest you of the remainder of your clothes?"
Sybil took off her night clothes and tossed them on the chair by the bed. Tom joined her there and they pulled the blankets over themselves to keep warm. Lying side-by-side once more, he placed his hands on either side of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. Before long, his upper hand was grabbing a handful of her breast and playing with the tip until it peaked. Meanwhile, her hand roamed over his back that she'd been wanting to do since she unbuttoned his clothes.
Before long, his hardness was poking her insistently and she stroked it the way he liked. "Do you have one of the French letters?"
"Let me get it from the drawer." He turned over to reach the nightstand drawer and pulled one out.
"My turn to put it on," said Sybil with a grin, moving to position herself.
He laid on his back, moved the blanket lower and handed the package to her. "I can't wait." He grinned.
She took him in her mouth to lubricate it thoroughly, bringing him to near release. Gasps and hisses could be heard, while his eyes effectively rolled to the back of his head. She then tore the package and squeezed the tip of the French letter as indicated in the previously read manual before placing it on him and unrolling slowly to provide her husband as much enjoyment from it as possible.
By the time she was done, he was ready. Because it was chilly, he maneuvered her until she was lying on her back and he was on all fours above her, pulling the blankets over his back. He then leaned down to kiss her passionately. Instinctively, after so many months, she knew to align him with her core. He then pushed in and laid on top of her on his elbows. He had to break the kiss from the sensations. It had been weeks since they last were together and the French Letter seemed like an invisible barrier even though he had taken matters into his own hands several times.
She then wrapped her legs around his back to pull him closer to her. He filled her so perfectly, she closed her eyes to savour his size.
"I'm sorry love, but this won't last very long," he whispered in her ear. He couldn't keep his breath from shuddering and started thrusting into her, slowly at first but escalating very quickly.
"Oh, Tom," she whispered against his cheek. Her fingers all over his back as he pounded into her. As he got closer to his release, he could hear her shuddering breath start to develop a hitch. Her pleasure was building again from his movements. "That feels so good," she breathed into his ear. Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, he stop and moved his fingers between them and rubbed her nub until she buried a scream in his shoulder. Then he resumed his pace and before long he stiffened and spilt into her. "Oh, God!"
Once he had the presence of mind, he rolled them slightly and collapsed on the bed. When he had recovered sufficiently, he caressed his wife's cheek. "You are so beautiful, love. I'm so lucky to have you."
Sybil turned her head and kissed the hand that was caressing her. "I love you."
"I love you, too," He leaned in to give her another kiss before he pulled out and moved to clean up by the wash basin.
She moved to use the chamber pot by facing away from him. It would not do to have a bladder infection. There would be too many questions.
To give her a little privacy, he turned his back on her to dispose of the French letter and wash himself. He wished that there was a changing screen in the cottage but there was not and they would have to wait until the war was over to have that luxury. When he was done, he handed over a moist washcloth to his wife to wipe up and went to bring the candle from the mantel to the nightstand and to add another log to the fire to keep the cold at bay.
Before long, they were once again underneath the blankets, spooning to keep warm.
Tom yawned and kissed his wife at her nape. "Are we ready to sleep?"
She nodded. "Will you snuff the candle?"
"Yes, love," he said before moving to extinguishing it.
In the dark, Tom reached for Sybil's ring finger to feel the claddagh band for comfort. Before long, they were asleep. For now, their secret was safe.
A/N2: It's a little long for a one-shot but I managed to get it all in. Hope this fills the prompt my friend. Merry Christmas (a little late) and Happy New Year!