Acts of Defiance - Part I - The Prequel
Opposite Sides
"Three hours by train to Edinburgh and three hours back. Really it wasn't such a bad way to spend the day," Tom Branson thought to himself as he waited to board the train at the Downton station. The household was reeling from the shock of Matthew's death and someone had to go to retrieve Lady Rose MacClare from Edinburgh. Her father had contacted Lord Grantham two days ago. He was being sent to India early. The staff who weren't staying on at Dunneagle Castle had already left and no one trusted Rose to travel on her own. She needed someone to escort her to Downton.
Tom had volunteered to see to the task. Miss O'Brien, the old scab, had already left to join Lady Flintshire as her lady's maid and was on the way with her new mistress to India. Tom shivered when he thought of the woman. He was rather glad he wasn't sharing the ride to Scotland with her. He may be bringing Lady Rose MacClare, the spoiled, giddy daughter of Marquess "Shrimpy" Flintshire home with him, but for this part of the trip he would ride north in blissful anonymity in third class. The one and only time Tom had any dealings with Rose had been painful in the extreme. Lady Grantham had seated the young woman next to him at dinner. The experience had made Tom grind his teeth. He had politely asked her what she planned to do with her time once she reached Scotland later that summer. Rose had fluttered her lashes and made some inane comment about some ball or another and then proceeded to giggle and simper. He had kept his eyes firmly locked on his plate for the rest of the meal, only glancing up now and then if a comment was directed his way. He had heard all about her escapades in London from Matthew Crawley when he had returned.
Volunteering to go escort Rose to Downton Abbey was as much for his own benefit as those living at the house. Everyone was in a state of shock from Matthew's death and no one in the family was in any shape to make the trip. Truth be told he wanted a day away from all the grief that had been his lot in life for almost two years even for just a few hours. First he had grieved the loss of his homeland through his own actions and then he had grieved the loss of his wife. The loss of his only real friend on the estate had been another blow. Even a day away from it all watching the hills and trees pass by was better than staying in the pit of despair that seemed to hang in the air at the Abbey.
Tom sat back and closed his eyes. He took a long slow breath. "Freedom," he thought. "I had forgotten what freedom smells like." It wasn't freedom from his daughter he craved, far from it. He would do anything for her and bore the responsibility gladly. It was freedom from all the rules and structure of his new life. He lived in a house that wasn't his own with no say in who stepped through the front door or even the back for that matter. He had the final say when it came to his daughter but even then the afternoon viewings and having his daughter addressed as Miss Sybil even though she was just a baby were all part of the trappings of the aristocracy and a lifestyle where he never felt like he belonged.
The rocking of the train lulled him to sleep. He didn't wake again until the conductor passed by announcing the stop in Edinburgh. He left the station and hailed a cab to take him to the Balmoral Hotel where he was supposed to meet Rose. As the hotel came in sight, Tom couldn't help thinking to himself, "How could I have thought I would find Rose in anything other than a hotel that looked like a castle complete with clock tower. Even when these people are broke they still think they need to do everything in style." He paid the fare when the cab came to a stop and went inside to inquire after his charge at the desk. He was half way to the desk when he spotted Rose sitting on an elaborate divan in the lobby waiting for him. As he approached he noticed an older man standing close to her with a ramrod straight back and expression that reminded him of a carbon copy of Mr. Carson.
"Tom, how nice of you to make the trip up to collect me," Rose greeted him with a flutter of her lashes over her large brown eyes.
"Think nothing of it," he replied with a slight smile. "Are you all ready for the trip?"
"Why yes, just about," Rose replied. She stood up. It was then Tom realized she was wearing the shortest skirt he had ever seen on a woman. He did a bit of a double take. "I'll just say my goodbyes with Mr. McCree." Rose turned to the butler from Dunneagle. Her expression turned serious. "Goodbye, Mr. McCree. Thank you for everything."
"Goodbye, Lady Rose," the older man said. "Take care of yourself and be happy."
"You, too," Rose replied before she kissed him on the cheek in parting. She turned back to Tom with a dazzling smile. "We have plenty of time. How about some lunch? There's a lovely restaurant here in the hotel."
Tom groaned a bit inwardly. He would have liked to pick up lunch at a pub or small restaurant where the napkins hadn't been starched to attention.
"If you like," he replied. "Where are your coat and bags?"
"The porter has them. No need to fret over the details. They take care of you wonderfully here," Rose said taking his arm and steering him towards the dining room.
"I just bet they do, with a price tag to go along with it," Tom thought.
Rose had left Dunneagle that morning with a heavy heart. It had been her home in a way the house in London never had. Here she had spent the summers of her childhood learning the country-dances with the other children of noble birth in the area once a week. She had ridden her pony across the hills with her hair unrestrained and flying behind her, much to her governess' disgust and most of important of all Dunneagle was where she had spent time with her father. At Dunneagle away from the demands of his job with the foreign office he had the time to lavish the attention on her that her young heart craved and she never received from her mother.
She hadn't been particularly happy when she heard Tom Branson was coming to act as her escort to the Abbey. She had only met him the once. He had griped about playing cricket and other than one brief exchange at dinner, he had spent his meals staring at his plate not saying a word and left the drawing room after dinner almost as quickly as he had entered it after a few words with Cousin Matthew. She had wondered at the time if there was a duller man on the face of the earth. He certainly would be nice looking if he ever smiled, but so far she hadn't seen him smile once. Whatever Cousin Sybil had seen in the man was a mystery to her.
She had bid goodbye to her parents two days previously and watched the servants leave one after the other to their new posts. Mr. McCree the butler was on his way to a new post as well. He had agreed to stay the extra two days and get her to Edinburgh. He had always been a soft touch where Rose was concerned. When Rose was little and her governess was angry and wanted to punish her, she had run to the protection of Mr. McCree until her governess had settled down. Of course the woman had never let on a thing was amiss in front of Mr. McCree. Rose would stay with him for the day in hopes of avoiding the slap she knew was in store for her if she was anywhere near the woman for the next few hours.
The hotel had seemed like a good place to meet Tom. It was centrally located and with every item she owned on the face of the earth packed for the move to Downton there had been a fair pile of luggage to send by wagonette to the hotel. Here there were more than enough porters and staff to see to them until it was time to head out on the train. Rose really didn't see why she needed an escort. The bags could have been taken directly to the train in her opinion and it wasn't like she was going to go running to Terrance. She had a note from one of her friends. He'd already taken up with someone else and his wife was due back from the continent any day and they were throwing a lavish party for their friends. So much for his declarations of undying love and wanting a divorce, she had been played for a fool.
Here she was, with only a small allowance to her name, walking on the arm of a man she didn't really care for to the restaurant of a hotel she would probably never see again in her entire life. It was a goodbye of sorts and a hello of another into a world where she was no longer wealthy or privileged. She was dreading the step and in another welcoming the new experiences it would bring.
"Table for two, Sir?" the headwaiter inquired when they entered the dining room.
"Yes," Tom replied. The room was decked out in every bit of finery Tom had expected. Large glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The tables were covered in crisp white linens, shining silver ware and sparkling crystal. Sure enough the napkins were starched and folded into an elaborate shape at every spot.
A few minutes later they were seated and looking over the menu. Tom could feel himself sweating slightly. He had brought along enough cash for two first class tickets to Downton, a modest lunch and a bit for a small gift for Sybie. With these prices he would be lucky to have enough left for the cab fare to the station, a tip for the porter and their fare.
"I just adore the food here," Rose said with a flutter. "It's simply nummy."
"I don't doubt that it is," Tom replied. "What are you having?"
"I think I'll have the duck," Rose said.
Tom's eyes went to the listing for duck. "There went the gift for Sybie," he thought. "He would be lucky to have a slice of bread and a glass of water for his lunch." I think "I'll have the clubhouse sandwich," he said in hopes of swaying Rose. "I've heard of it but never had one."
"Likewise," Rose replied. "They're the latest thing at luncheons. Apparently they're popular in America. I might try one as well."
"Thank heavens," Tom thought.
The waiter approached to take their order.
"Two club house sandwiches," Tom said.
"And a bottle of champagne," Rose added.
"Don't you think it's a bit early in the day?" Tom asked her.
"It's my last day in Scotland. I might never return to my homeland. I want to toast my new adventure," Rose replied with her best come hither flutter.
"Would you excuse us for a moment?" Tom addressed the waiter. He waited until the man had stepped back. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice. "Rose, I didn't bring enough cash for a bottle of champagne or even a glass at these prices. If you order that I'll have to carry your bags myself and we'll be traveling by third class."
"But I want to celebrate the start of something new," Rose said with a bit of a pout.
"You drink your champagne, carry your own bags and ride for three hours on a wooden bench, or you drink a cup of tea with your lunch like the majority of other people and ride to your new home in style," he stated with finality.
"Oh, very well," Rose replied with a huff. Tom signaled the waiter.
"The lady has changed her mind. We'll have two cups of tea with our sandwiches," he said.
"Excellent choice, Sir," the waiter replied with a slight smile at Tom. He collected the menus and went for their sandwiches.
"You are absolutely no fun at all," Rose stated glaring at Tom.
"You'll find fun and the Abbey don't exactly go together at the moment," Tom replied through gritted teeth. "Everyone there is greatly upset. They don't need you adding to it with your high jinks."
"I'm quite aware of things," Rose replied sticking her nose in the air. "I was very sorry to hear of Cousin Matthew's death."
"The rest of us are a bit more than sorry," Tom informed her.
They traded glares until their tea arrived followed shortly by their sandwiches. They didn't speak another word to each other or even look each other's way during the entire meal.
"We best get on to the station," Tom said. They had just over an hour to get to the train station. It had only been a ten minute or so cab ride, so they should have plenty of time to collect Rose's cases and get their tickets. Tom went to pay the bill while Rose went to the powder room. He asked a passing bellman to bring Lady Rose MacClare's bags and coat to the front door. A few minutes later Tom was speechless when he spotted two bellmen pushing a cart piled high with bags towards the front doors followed by another carrying three bags that wouldn't fit on the cart and a third carrying Rose's coat.
Tom looked over to see Rose coming across the lobby towards him. He couldn't believe his eyes. Her short skirt was flipping up and showing the tops of her stockings and a hint of her milky white legs above where her stockings had been rolled down and secured with satin bows. Rose was a beautiful girl by any stretch of the imagination and the display she was making of herself was attracting every male eye in the place including his. He grabbed her coat from the bellman that was clearly leering at his charge and held it for her to put on.
"It's rather a warm day," Rose said. "I don't think I need my coat."
"Best not be taking any chances," Tom said with his face slightly flushed. "We're going to need two cabs with this lot. Did you pack the entire castle?"
"Everything I own in the world including the silverware with the family crest. We wouldn't want the creditors getting their hands on it after five hundred years," Rose replied. She was only joking but from the grimace she got in return from Tom her joke had fallen flat.
"We had best not be getting arrested," he said with a glare.
"Can't you take a joke?" Rose replied in disgust.
"Har, Har," he replied then turned to the doorman to ask him to summon two cabs.
Tom breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally seated on the train and headed out of Edinburgh. He didn't have hardly a cent left. After he had tipped everyone dealing with the mountain of luggage, paid for the lunch and cabs, it had taken all of the money he had with but the few coins he had left in his pocket to get them this far. He had drawn what he thought was a substantial allowance from the estate for the trip, but Lord Grantham had been distracted with his grief and Tom hadn't wanted to bother him to inquire if it was enough. Tom was thanking providence the car from the house would be meeting them at the station and they had their own staff to deal with the luggage. They could easily send a wagon from the house to pick it all up.
He glanced over at Rose. She had taken her coat off and was staring out the window with a sad expression. Her short skirt was riding up and he could see the white of her thighs above her stockings from his vantage point across from her. Despite the fact that he didn't like her that much his libido went crazy. He had been a long time without a woman in his life. He hadn't made love to his late wife after her seventh month of pregnancy when things had gotten too uncomfortable for her. The kiss he had exchanged with Edna earlier that summer had started his mind down that track again. His body was telling him it was more than time to move on and the sight across from him was making his pulse race.
Tom diverted his eyes and squeezed them shut. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Think of shoveling cow shyt," he told himself. "No, good." Thinking about working in a barn, made him think about a dairy and with that dairymaids bent forward showing their cleavage when milking the cows. He snuck one eye open. Rose's skirt had inched up even higher. "Thank God there isn't anyone else in this coach," he thought. "I would have to beat them off with a stick." He closed his eyes again. "Old lady Grantham taking a bath," he thought then shivered. "That did it finally." He could feel his pulse start to slow and things starting to calm down.
"Would you mind pulling your skirt down a bit," he asked Rose when he opened his eyes again.
"My dress is modern, like me," she informed him making no move to adjust her hem. "It's called a flapper."
"Whatever it's called, I can see you knickers," he said bluntly. He couldn't really but another inch or so and he was sure he would be able to see them.
"Very well, then," Rose said shifting slightly with a stain of color coming to her cheeks and smoothing her skirt. "Better?"
"Much, thank you," he replied.
"You don't like me much do you?" Rose questioned him. She turned a sharp stare on him.
"It's not my place to like you or dislike you," Tom replied evenly not taking the bait.
"Anything new at the Abbey?" Rose asked.
"Other than Miss O'Brien leaving to work for your mother not much," Tom replied. "You'll find the house quite different than when you were last there. The place is quiet. Almost too much so despite the young children living there."
"Hmm," Rose replied thoughtfully then turned her attention back out the window. Tom closed his eyes again. He hadn't this much chance to sit and do absolutely nothing since he didn't know when. He opened his eyes again when he heard Rose rustling around in her handbag. She had a pack of cigarettes out with one between her lips she had just pulled out a lighter and was about to light the cigarette when Tom reached across grabbed the pack of cigarettes and the unlit cigarette from her lips, opened the window and threw them out.
"That will be enough of that," he said settling back on his seat.
Rose's mouth was open in shock.
"How dare you? You…you…oaf," she stormed at last.
"If you want to puff smoke and look like a trollop you can do it on your own time, not when I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you," Tom stated. "Doesn't matter now. You'll have to wait until we're home before you can get any more."
"Errr," Rose growled. "I'm going to the ladies." She got up and stormed into the passageway slamming the door of their compartment behind her. She slammed it so hard, Tom was surprised the door frame didn't splinter. "That was rather fun," he chuckled to himself. It was true though. There was modern and there was ridiculous and so far for all Rose was supposed to be so modern all he could see was a young girl jumping headlong into whatever latest fad came along without one thought for where she was going and if she was inconveniencing others. She was ridiculous in the extreme like the majority of the aristocracy he had met so far.
It was quite a while before Rose came back and sat down. He could smell the unmistakable odor of cigarettes on her. She gave him a sniff and stuck her nose in the air. She had obviously found someone to sponge a cigarette from. Tom excused himself and headed for the men's loo. The less time he spent with her the better. He dawdled in the loo washing his face and hands, smoothing his shirt and straightening his tie before he went back to his seat. He went back to the compartment to find Rose laying across the bench on her side of the coach with her head propped on one hand reading a circular she must have had in her handbag.
His libido went crazy again. He couldn't stand the woman and at the same time the sight of her in such close proximity and in such a suggestive pose did things to him in a way he hadn't felt in a longtime. He adverted his gaze and took his seat quickly.
"Another hour," Rose mumbled.
"Yes," Tom replied. His voice had raised an ocatave. He stuck a finger into his collar to loosen it. He stared out the window until he got his body under control again. "Are you usually like this?" he asked after a few moments.
"Like what," Rose asked not bothering to look up.
"So unrestrained."
"Usually, when Mummy isn't around to scold me," she replied. "Would you prefer I pretend to be the perfect drawing room society girl for the next hour until we arrive?"
"No, no, suit yourself," Tom replied still looking out the window.
"Don't you ever smile?" Rose inquired looking at him from her spot on the bench.
"When I'm enjoying myself," Tom replied.
"You're not enjoying escorting me back?"
"Not particularly," he said.
"The feeling is quite mutual," Rose replied tossing her circular towards her handbag and sitting up. "We do have to get along though. We'll be living in the same house from now on."
"You won't see much of me," Tom said. "I'm usually busy with work. I'm really not at the house that much and when I am, I'm occupied."
"With what?"
"With my daughter and estate business."
"Don't you have a nanny to care for your daughter or a governess?"
"I do," Tom replied. "But I like to do it myself when I'm not occupied with affairs on the estate."
"What manner of affairs?"
"Is that any of your concern?"
"You're impossible," Rose replied with a frown stuffing the circular into her handbag.
"I could say the same about you," Tom replied. "We're almost there."
"Fifteen minutes more is not almost anything," Rose stated just to be contrary.
Tom gritted his teeth and didn't reply. He couldn't have been more relieved when the train pulled into the station at Downton and he spotted Lady Grantham dressed in mourning waiting for them on the platform with the chauffeur a few steps behind her.
"Rose, welcome to Downton," Cora said taking Rose's hands and kissing her on the cheek. "I hope you had a good trip without any problems."
"I had an uneventful trip, Cousin Cora," Rose gushed. "If the company was somewhat lacking."
"I'll just speak to the chauffeur about having Rose's bags collected Lady Grantham, then walk back," Tom said with a tight smile. "There were a few tenants in the village I had planned to speak with in the next few days. Now seems like a perfect opportunity." "The perfect opportunity to put some distance between myself and Rose," he added silently.
"Of course, Tom," Cora replied. "Will we see you at dinner?"
"Certainly, Lady Grantham," Tom replied with a slight bow before he went to speak with the chauffeur.
"I hope Tom treated you well," Cora said to Rose as way of inquiry once Tom had left on his business and they were seated in the back of the car on their way to the Abbey.
"He was the perfect gentleman, Cousin Cora. We just don't seem to see eye to eye," Rose replied.
"He has a way of growing on you," Cora said with a small smile and patting Rose's hand.
"Somehow I highly doubt that," Rose replied with a bit of sour expression. Her countenance quickly changed as soon as she smiled. "Now tell me all about baby George. I'm simply dying to see him and what about this upcoming party I've heard so much about."