A/N: As promised, part II. Not as edited as I would like but determined to get it out on time !
The sound reverberated around the stunned silence in drawing room, until the clink of Carson putting down the decanter broke the spell. Simultaneously, Tom and Mary moved for the door.
"Wait, Tom !" she called as he strode to follow his wife up the stairs. "Wait. Let me talk to her. She needs to see that Papa is just frightened. He doesn't mean what he says."
He turned and looked at her coldly.
"You'll forgive me if I do not agree with you on that point."
"Whether he meant it or not, he had no right to say it. I'm sorry, Tom."
"Yes. Well. That doesn't usually stop him."
She said nothing.
"Let me talk to Sybil, at least."
He sighed.
"Alright then. But she's breathing fire, so don't be surprised if you get burnt."
Mary nodded, then turned swiftly on her heel and ran up the stairs after her sister. Tom watched her go, then turned automatically to the library. But he was too angry to read, so he changed his tack and headed for the billiard room instead.
She stood outside Sybil's room hesitantly for a few uncomfortable seconds. The soft sound of sobs could be heard through the door, and a particularly unladylike hiccup made her knock gently.
"Sybil ? It's me."
Silence, followed by another hiccup.
"What do you want ?"
"Can I come in ?"
Another silence.
"Alright."
Mary gave a sigh of relief and opened the door.
Sybil was sat on the bed with her arms tightly wound around herself. Her nose and eyes were red. In one hand she grasped a large man's handkerchief - no doubt one of Tom's.
'Oh, darling !"
She hurried over to sit on the bed beside her and placed a hand on her back.
"Papa didn't mean it. He's just had a shock."
Sybil turned to her, the disapproval evident in her face.
"It was a despicable thing to say to Tom. Who does he think he is ?"
"He thinks he's your father."
"And that means he can insult my husband ?"
"Darling, he's just worried about you."
It was not the right thing to say. Sybil turned on her.
"How would you feel if he'd said that to Matthew ?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped, imagining if it had been Matthew her father's wrath had been directed at, about herself. She folded her hands in her lap.
"Angry. I'd be angry. Just like you are."
Sybil turned to her in relief, her eyes filling with tears again.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for saying that."
They sat on the side of the bed in silence. Finally, Sybil said
"I know everyone's worried about what's going to happen. I'm worried. I don't want to leave everyone - "
Mary looked up in alarm.
"- but I can't live half a life, have half a marriage because of something that might never happen."
"But so soon….."
Sybil looked a little embarrassed.
"We didn't expect this to happen."
Mary's gaze became questioning. Eventually, Sybil explained.
"I went to Mrs Stopes' clinic."
"Oh."
Sybil looked up at her sister, detecting something she couldn't be sure of in her tone. She waited, but Mary didn't elaborate.
"Well - what would you have done ?" she asked. "Could you have given Matthew up in that way, after only a year ?"
"Well, if my life depended on it…" her sister replied slowly
Sybil sighed in frustration.
"Mary - "
"…but no - I don't think I could."
Matthew watched Robert follow Cora up the stairs and thought he should really follow, as Mary was probably back in their bedroom by now. But he hesitated, instead making his way to the billiard room. The door was ajar and from within he could hear the faint rumble of a billiard ball rolling over baize followed by the soft clack that meant it had hit its target. He pushed the door open - the room was in darkness save for the lamp over the billiard table casting the game into a pyramid of light. He could see his brother-in-law's torso emerge from the gloom as he stretched over the green cloth to cue up his next shot.
"I thought I might find you in here,"
Tom didn't answer, apparently concentrating on making his play, sliding the cue back and forth over his fingers as he lined it up. Matthew wandered to the rack and picked out a cue, turning back to his brother-in-law as he nonchalantly chalked the tip. Tom took his shot, then stepped back into the dark to give Matthew the table.
"Robert will be sorry in the morning," he said, raising his elbow. "You know what he's like. He doesn't think things through."
A quiet sigh came out of the dark on the other side of the table as Matthew lined up his shot. Another red ball rolled into a pocket.
"I wouldn't do anything to put Sybil in danger"
"Of course you wouldn't. We all know that." Matthew straightened up and walked round the table. He could feel Tom hesitating, tapping the bottom of his cue against his boot. He made a meal out of his next shot, looking at it from several angles before bending down theatrically to eyeball the shot from the cushion.
"It wasn't supposed to happen."
Matthew stood up and leaned over the table.
"Sybil went to that clinic in London - you know, the one there was all the fuss about."
"Ah."
"The doctor said there's still a good chance everything will be alright this time. But -" he faltered. "Perhaps Lord Grantham is right."
The cue ball travelled slowly to the other end of the table and nestled itself amongst three other balls.
"But would you have been able to ?" asked Matthew, his face showing nothing but honest enquiry. "I'll be honest, I'm not sure I could if it had been Mary…not without it driving me mad. Not once we'd...Although, of course, we wouldn't have a choice, even with George. "
Tom was silent.
"I can't lose her, Matthew. Not now. Not after everything that's happened."
Matthew reached out and gripped his shoulder.
"Try not to worry, old chap. We'll help you look after her. We'll look after you both."
Cora was already in bed with her book open when Robert opened the door from his dressing room. He could tell from the set of her mouth that she wasn't pleased.
"I hope you're going to apologise to Tom tomorrow," she said without looking up. "That was a very unpleasant thing to say to him."
Robert sighed and sat heavily on his side of the bed.
"I will. Although I still hold him responsible."
"Why ? You heard Sybil."
He winced at being reminded of his daughter's honesty.
"Well then, in that case they are both being irresponsible."
"Robert, they're young and they're in love. It seems to me that you've forgotten what that is like, otherwise you'd realise what you are asking of them."
He turned to her, his fear evident in his eyes.
"We almost lost her last year. Is it so wrong of me to want her to be safe ?"
Cora smiled.
"Not at all, my darling. But we can't wrap her up in cotton wool. We may not like this, but she's made her choice and this is what has happened. All we can do is stand by her. And Tom."
"Hmphf."
He shed his dressing gown and climbed into bed beside her, switching the light off.
"They've found a doctor who specialises in toxaemia. He'll look after her."
"In London ?"
"No. Sheffield."
"Sheffield ?"
"Oh goodness, Robert. You sound just like your mother. This man is very respected physician. And if he is good enough for Sybil, then he is good enough for me. She is a nurse, after all."
He shuffled under the bedclothes in a disgruntled fashion, settling on his side.
"I just want the best for her. She's still my little girl."
"No, Robert," she said sadly, "she's not."
After a last whiskey with Matthew, Tom abandoned the billiard room and wound his way up the stairs to Sybil's bedroom. The only light was from the single beside lamp on his side of the bed. She was lying on her side with her back to him, one bare arm flung over the top of the eiderdown.
"Sybil ?"
No reply. Apparently, she was asleep.
He changed into his pyjamas quickly and slid in beside her, switching out the light. Darkness engulfed them. As he lay there, he could hear her breathing, regular and deep as she drifted further and further into sleep. Soon, he knew from experience, her mouth would fall open and she would start to snore. She moved in her sleep, drawing her legs up so the soles of her feet rested on his shins. She was warm and soft and alive. And she was right. They couldn't let fear dictate their lives, for in the end it would separate them just as surely as the toxaemia almost had. Instead, he would take each day as it came and be thankful that she was there to share it with him.
