Berries

Sybil's shift at the hospital started at six. She had set an alarm for four forty-five to allow her enough time to have breakfast, get ready and travel to the small hospital in the village where she would put in a twelve-hour shift. This morning she clicked off the alarm and rolled to her back. Something felt odd around her lower legs and ankles. She threw back the covers to see her feet covered in a fine layer of mud and the bottom four inches of her nightdress was damp. She regarded her feet and nightdress with a frown. She would have to speak to Anna about improving the cleaning in her room if her feet were getting dirty form the carpets. Right now she needed to get dressed, have breakfast and get out the door if she didn't want to be late.

Branson was waiting with the car for her promptly at five forty-five.

"Good morning, Branson," she said as he handed her into the car.

"Lady Sybil," he replied. At this hour of the morning Mr. Carson was not at the door and there were no footmen in attendance. Tom looked directly at her as he helped her into the motor. His face this morning was full of merriment and he looked like he was about to burst into laughter at any second. Sybil didn't see what was so humorous about driving to the hospital at this hour of the morning. She took her seat for the ten-minute ride to the hospital and tried her best to ignore him.

When they arrived at the hospital Branson hopped down from the driver's seat and had the door open before Sybil could reach for the handle.

"Thank you, Branson," she murmured as she stepped down from the motor.

"Have a good day at work," he said with a smirk.

He hadn't said the word "darling" but it hung in the air between them as though he had said it for the entire world to hear. Sybil looked at him with a frown, snapped her mouth shut and headed inside.

"Err," she growled as she reached the door. All that man had to do was look at her and the hair on her arms stood on end. Didn't he understand the situation he was placing her in? How could he ask her to run off with him, possibly never to see her family again? He had the ability to take her to the heights of happiness or the depths of despair with only a glance and few words. Her emotions were such a tangle when it came to that man that it was better not to think about it. There were patients in the hospital and more work to do than could be accomplished in a single day. By evening she was tired, more tired than on an average day. She fell into bed that night exhausted and dreading the repeat performance that she knew would occur on the morrow.

It had been two weeks since Sybil's nocturnal visit to the chauffeur's cottage and Tom was resting easier. For the first week after Sybil's sleep walking visit he had woken at every small sound he heard wondering if it was her wandering around the estate again. Today he had been busy from sun up till after dusk and he was tired. He climbed into bed and fell asleep quickly only to be woken in the middle of the night by the sound of someone moving about downstairs.

Tom jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of trousers. When he arrived downstairs he found Sybil Crawley repeatedly opening and closing the door to the broom closet. In the pale light he could see she was quite annoyed at something. Tom moved closer and lightly touched her arm. It was enough for Sybil to turn away from the closet and head for an armchair in the room. Sybil perched herself on the side of the armchair. Her expression and demeanor were what he imagined she looked like sitting in a drawing room. He had heard that it was dangerous to wake someone who was sleepwalking. Tom had no idea why but he thought it was probably best to let whatever Sybil's dreams were guiding her to play out.

After ten minutes or so, Sybil rose and took a few steps across the room.

"That went better than I thought it would," she said with a slight laugh in her voice. "I always knew my family would love you as much as I do." She stopped in the middle of the room as though she were listening to someone's reply. "I like strawberries."

Tom shook his head and laughed slightly. The thoughts and statements she made in her sleep didn't seem to have a logical progression. He knew she would be embarrassed beyond belief if she ever realized that she had shown up here twice in her sleep. His eyes almost popped out of his head when he realized Sybil was undoing the buttons at the neckline of her nightdress. Before he knew it she had let it drop to the floor. Tom's mouth went dry. He couldn't help but stare. She was beautiful and God help him he wanted her, but not like this. He picked up her nightdress and moved to touch her arm.

"Did you move my hairbrush, darling?" Sybil said. "I can't seem to find it anywhere."

Tom thought it best to play along and perhaps he could get her redressed and headed back to the Abbey.

"I've brought you your nightdress. Would you like to put it on?" he said softly.

"Only if you find me some strawberries," she said.

"I'll give you a kiss instead if you put your nightdress on," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, very well then," Sybil said as she slid her arms around his neck and placed her mouth against his. Her bare breasts squashed against his chest and Tom took a deep breath before he kissed her back. What the hell, he thought as he allowed his hands to move across her back and down to her bare hips. He would have liked to explore more, but if she woke up, he would be finished at Downton and with her. When Sybil finally pulled back from the kiss he managed to get the nightgown he was still holding tightly clenched in one hand over her head and gently moved each hand in turn through the sleeves.

"It's time to go back to bed," he whispered.

Sybil remained standing in the middle of the room. Her eyes were closed and she made no movement. Tom picked her up in his arms and headed back towards the Abbey. Sybil curled herself against him as she had done previously. He headed straight for the front doors hoping they would be open as before. Tom made his way as quickly as he could to Sybil's room and deposited her back into bed. Sybil tightened her arms around his neck and he almost fell on top of her.

"Sybil you have to let go," he choked out.

"I love you," she mumbled in her sleep.

"I love you, too, now let go of me."

"Never," she said as she pulled him in even tighter.

Tom braced himself with one arm on either side of her body. How they devil was he going to extricate himself from the death grip she had on his neck. It was uncomfortable in the extreme and he couldn't stay like this indefinitely.

"Kiss me," he whispered to her.

"Mmm." Sybil's arms finally loosened from around his neck as she placed her lips against his again. Tom returned her kiss and once he felt her body relax pulled back and made a hasty retreat from the Abbey. By the time he got back to his cottage it was almost four in the morning.

Sybil stretched when she awoke that morning and threw back the covers. She went to the washroom to get cleaned up and glanced at her self in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She suddenly looked down and realized her nightdress was on inside out. Her feet were dirty and there was a small scratch on the side of her foot. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. This didn't make sense and she certainly had not put her nightdress on inside out last night. This was a mystery but she had to get to the hospital and there was little time to find the answer.

That afternoon Branson showed up at one with her lunch. Her mother had been sending him to the hospital daily with a lunch for her. It annoyed Sybil no end but she couldn't blame the man. He was only following orders. The second time he had shown up with her lunch he had returned her anger with his own.

"Look," he said. "I was told to bring you your lunch and make sure you eat it. Do you think I like playing nursemaid to a grown woman?"

She had finally acquiesced and taken him to the garden behind the hospital. Sybil insisted he sit with her on a bench rather than stand waiting for her to eat. Branson had been her best friend for almost three years before his proposal and sitting with him in the garden they fell back into an easy camaraderie of conversation about current events.

Today was a warm day and they found a bench in the shade before Sybil opened the basket. On the top of the lunch was a small bowl of strawberries.

"Oh strawberries," she sighed as she spotted them. "I've been craving strawberries this last while. I wonder how Mrs. Patmore knew."

Branson just shrugged and looked up to watch the clouds in the sky. Sybil picked up the first berry, took a bite and allowed her eyes to drift shut while she savored the flavor. The berry was still warm from the field and dead ripe. She opened her eyes and realized Branson was watching her with the look of longing he sometimes had. She averted her gaze to the basket and reached for another berry when she realized the bowl was not the china variety she would normally receive with her lunch. It was made of crockery and would most likely be from the servants' hall or even possibly… the chauffeur's cottage. Sybil's movements stilled while she stared at the bowl. The berries were fresh. So fresh they would have to have been picked on the way here.

"You did this, didn't you?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"The berries. You picked them for me didn't you?"

Branson just shrugged again and returned to watching the clouds.

"Thank you."

He still didn't look at her or even reply. Sybil lifted the small bowl out of the basket and retrieved the sandwich. She handed Branson the sweet that she knew he liked but was too much for her lunch. Most days she gave him the sweet and relished watching him savor the fancy cakes and pastries that she had no room for. After she ate her sandwich there were still two berries left. She took one and held it to his lips. His eyes were watching her as he slowly opened his mouth and accepted the berry. Her fingers brushed his lips and she pulled her hand back quickly.

Sybil's heart was racing and she felt the color spreading up her cheeks. She had no idea what had prompted her to act in such a bold manner. She quickly devoured the last berry and handed him the basket before she turned and fled back inside. Tom had a smirk on his face as he watched her run away like a frightened rabbit.

"I like strawberries, too," he murmured to her retreating back. He shook his head with a slight laugh before he clapped his hat back on his head and headed off to do the rest of his duties for the day.