Five Proposals
1
She is seven, and he is twelve. He is her cousin, and his mother is studying them.
It is meant to be play. Neither are convinced.
"Will you marry me, Sibyl?"
The dress fitted her. Edith is pouting. Mary is uncertain, old enough to know better, to see her sister's plight.
"This game is boring. Let's go and see the horses."
The relief is palpable, and the dress is soon ruined.
"I didn't mean it." He tells her, looking at Mary.
"I know." She smiles, handing him the veil, racing to catch up with her sisters. "And I don't mind."
2
It is unclear whether he is joking or not, and if she's honest Sibyl isn't certain that he knows it himself.
Either way, they are in the middle of a dinner party, and she has yet to enter into society, being the tender age of sixteen. He is old enough to know better.
She smiles demurely, locking eyes with her mother, begging for help.
"Sybil couldn't possibly marry before her sisters! Unless you intend to marry all of them?"
A good natured chuckle, and she is saved. His hand rests besides Sybil's; she cannot meet the disappointment in his eyes.
3
"It's wonderful news." She hugged her sister tightly. "Have you given him his reply?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I don't know yet, there's so much to think about." Mary studied Sibyl's face. "I was wondering – you don't mind, do you?"
"Why on earth would I mind?"
"After – I wondered if you had a crush on him. After...that."
Sibyl smiled. "No – well, perhaps a little, he did save my life, him and Branson. But not a real one. Nothing that should give you pause."
Her sister laughed mirthlessly, shortly. "I'm the one giving myself pause."
"Don't. You're perfect together."
4
"But that doesn't work, not for the majority."
"You realise your ideas will have serious ramifications for the aristocracy – including your own family?"
"Of course, but there are certain prices we all have to pay, and I for one feel – "
She was forced to pause as another approached, and he moved to offer them a canapé, smiling genially.
He sighed, turning back to her. "You're the first real person I've met this year."
Sybil chuckled. "You're the most interesting person here."
"Sybil! Darling, you must meet this gentleman..."
"Marry me." The butler whispered, watching her return to her family.
5
He was teasing her again.
"For all your talk of equality and change, what would you do if a chauffeur proposed to you?"
"A chauffeur, or you?" She replied, equally playful. "It all depends on him, his ambitions, how well we get along... Whether he's willing to face my father. Class – or job – doesn't enter into it."
He smiled. "You want a husband with dreams."
"I have them, he should too." She shrugged.
His expression was suddenly serious. "And what if it was me? What would you say?"
She met his eyes, not entirely prepared. She wasn't ready for this.
...and One Wedding
"You look beautiful."
Sibyl turned to see Branson, and smiled. "Thank you."
"It was a lovely ceremony."
"Mary suits being the centre of attention." She felt his fingers slip between hers, in the crowd where nobody could see. "You have the afternoon off?"
"Until time comes for their honeymoon. But I think that'll be a little while yet." He glanced around.
She squeezed his hand, turning her attention to Mary and Matthew.
War had decided things for them. In uncertain times, they would have one another, bound forever.
She looked to Branson, and wondered how long she had him for.
Sorry about the formatting; apparently having gaps between paragraphs is a luxury beyond 's remit. I rather like these - first 5+1 I've done, and I may do some more. Or I may expand on a couple of these... idk. (Originally posted, as almost everything here is, on my writing journal, so if you've read this before then that's why :3)