So, yes, Tom punches Robert. It had to be done didn't it :)
Some additional background on that: When reconstructing the scene in my head, adding the very vocal Isobel into the heart of the quarrel, it occurred to me that it would take drastic action to get everyone to stop fretting and arguing and focused on the fact that they needed to get Sybil to the hospital ASAP. My thought was that as the power struggle between Tom and Robert comes to the fore, Tom feels like Sybil and his baby are both dying and Robert is standing in the way of saving their lives, so he acts out of anger and desperation. The punch silences everyone. Then, without apology, Tom asks Matthew to help him get Sybil into the car, which Matthew does without a word. Cora and Tom stay at the hospital through the night and through Sybil's delivery, at the end of which Cora assures Tom that she will mend things with Robert. This chapter adds a few more details on that and brings us to the question of Sybbie's baptism. Enjoy!
Miss Sybil Keelin Branson and her mother remained in the hospital for a full month and it almost took that long for the latter to agree to share a name with her daughter.
Having failed to come to an agreement prior to her birth, Tom and Sybil had made the informal arrangement that Tom would name the child if Sybil gave birth to a girl and she would if the child was a boy. Given how it all turned out, Tom was in awe of Sybil's strength in bringing the baby into the world and simply wouldn't take no for an answer. To both his and Sybil's surprise, he found supporters in just about everyone in the family.
The length of the hospital stay was due to Sybil's infection, which didn't worsen but weakened her considerably and caused her legs to swell even more than they'd been in the days leading up to her delivery. "Sybbie," nicknamed by her Uncle Matthew, only stayed in the hospital to be with her mother, who within a week of waking was able to relieve the wet nurse her parents had hired of her duties.
Tom, committed to the promise that neither he nor the baby would leave the hospital without her, insisted on staying as long as Sybil did, but by the end of Sybbie's second week, Sybil saw how stir-crazy he was getting and, to let him off the hook, asked Dr. Clarkson to tell Tom that the bed he was using was needed elsewhere in the hospital. When Tom suggested the floor would suffice, Sybil, in turn, suggested his eagerness to stay close was actually an effort to avoid his father-in-law. Cora had brokered a fragile peace between the two men. In a private moment that was among the most heated in their long marriage, Cora told Robert that if Sybil had died at Sir Philip Tapsell's hands, she would never have forgiven Robert and would have expected him never to forgive himself. So Tom returned to the house (if only to sleep) and Robert made no more mention of the incident.
He didn't at least, until Tom's return also brought with it the revelation that Sybbie would be baptized a Catholic. So it was that almost as soon as Robert had forgiven Tom for one offense, another—a graver one—came to take its place.
The fight began on the first morning Tom was back at the house, when Edith, over breakfast with her father and brothers-in-law, asked the seemingly innocuous question of whether he and Sybil had discussed the date and arrangements for the baby's christening. Given Sybil's still fragile health, it was likely the event would have to be put off several weeks if Sybil was going to attend. Wanting to make herself useful, Edith volunteered to call on Mr. Travis that very day.
"Why Mr. Travis?" Tom asked, curious and without thinking.
"To fix the date," Edith answered.
"But Sybbie will be Catholic," Tom said.
"What?!"
All eyes turned to Robert at the head of the table.
Tom closed his eyes to stop himself from rolling them in exasperation. After taking a deep breath, he said, "My daughter is Irish, and she'll be Catholic like her father."
"Are her mother's wishes of no concern to you?" Robert asked, incensed.
"They are my primary concern," Tom answered forcefully. "These are her wishes."
"Only because you've forced them upon her!"
"Papa!" Edith called out.
Robert stood and threw his napkin on his plate. "You've seen what he's capable of? Are you honestly not afraid for your sister's happiness and well being?"
Edith looked at her father with a mix of anger and sadness in her eyes that surprised Robert to see. "She chose a partner who is willing to forgo politeness and stand up to your bullying for the sake of love when it's the right thing to do. Would that I had been so lucky." Overcome with emotion over the sting of a memory still too raw, Edith ran out of the room.
Robert turned to face Tom again, who along with Matthew had stood as Edith left. "This isn't over."
"I've told you time and again Sybil has her own mind," Tom said wearily. "I am no more able to control it or her than you ever were. The difference between us is that I don't want to."
"More than that separates you and me."
With that Robert left the two young men alone. They sat back down to finish their breakfast, though Tom suddenly felt free of appetite. He looked over at Matthew.
"I'm not sorry that I hit him," Tom said after a moment. "At least in so far as doing so led to getting control of the situation and getting her to the hospital. But I'm sorry that I'll have made things more difficult for Sybil with her family."
Matthew smiled kindly. "There's no need to be sorry, Tom. Robert will come around."
Tom raised a skeptical eyebrow, causing Matthew to chuckle. "I'll admit I will always be his favorite son-in-law."
Tom couldn't help but laugh at this.
"But in all seriousness, a punch is the least I would have done if it were Mary. I can't say that there will ever be full agreement between the two of you, but eventually he'll see that all you're doing is taking care of your family as you and Sybil have deemed fit."
"You'll be a very different earl than he is . . . not that I know a thing about it," Tom said with a smile.
"Let's hope so," Matthew said. "I'm afraid keeping this house depends on it."
"Are things with the estate really that bad?" Tom asked.
Mathew sighed. "The way it's been run until now . . . there's no future in it. I just have to get Robert and Jarvis to see that."
Tom smiled and looked down at his plate.
"I'm going to look at one of the vacant plots this morning," Matthew said standing. "You could join me if you like."
Tom shrugged, standing as well. "Why not. I think Sybil is getting tired of me hovering over her."
"And I have a feeling Robert will go talk to her about the christening. It's probably best she set him right about that without you there."
Tom smiled. "He thinks I'm stubborn."
XXX
Sybil had seen this fight coming. She hadn't, however, expected it to come to her.
Matthew had been right about Robert going straight to see her in the hospital after breakfast. What neither he nor Sybil could have guessed was that he'd stop at the church to fetch the Rev. Travis as reinforcement.
"Papa, I know it's hard for you—"
"Sybil, there hasn't been a Catholic Crawley since the Reformation!"
"My daughter isn't a Crawley, papa, she's a Branson!"
Red-faced, Robert pressed on. "The only chance that child will have of achieving anything in life is because—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" The anger rising in Sybil was such she could feel the blood rush into her own reddened face. She felt her pulse at her temples and at the still tender incision on her torso and pushed her hands against the bed as if trying to stand, but no movement she was capable of at the moment could release everything that was building in her right now. She looked over at the bassinet next to her bed, and the sight of her child, sleeping peacefully, served to calm her enough to speak again. "Sybbie will achieve anything she sets her mind to because she will have parents who will support her unfailingly. Who I am and who Tom is will have no bearing on that save for how loved she will be."
Duly chastened, Robert simply began to pace the floor at the foot of Sybil's bed to dissolve his pique.
Seeing that the argument was finished, Sybil turned to Mr. Travis, who stood in the corner, wondering how he'd found himself if the middle of all of this.
"Mr. Travis, I do hope my father hasn't inconvenienced you terribly by bringing you here this morning."
The aging vicar stepped forward with his usual stern smile. "Not to worry, Lady Sybil. Seeing to the spiritual needs of the children of my church is never an inconvenience. His lordship simply wanted me to offer some guidance and I am happy to offer it. Anglican worship is pleasing to God. Your father isn't wrong to want to remind you of it."
"Please, don't see it as a personal slight, Mr. Travis, but I haven't the energy for theological discussion at the moment. My husband and I have made our decision."
Mr. Travis leaned forward slightly as if he was about to say something else, but thought better of it and turned to leave.
Sybil added, "I know I've never been the most pious of the Crawley daughters, but that's not to say that I was never listening."
Mr. Travis turned to face her again and gave her a genuine smile. Then, he said his goodbyes and left father, daughter and granddaughter to settle things themselves.
In her bassinet, Sybbie began to stir and Robert walked over to her. He put his hand on her head and gently rubbed the patch of brown hair atop it.
"Do you suppose she'll give me as much trouble as I've given you?"
The corners of Robert's lips curved up into a reluctant smile. "It would be only fair."
Sybil smiled. "Pick her up?"
"What?"
"I can't stand and get her myself, so you have to do it for me."
Robert looked around. "Where's your nurse?"
Sybil laughed. "Papa, don't be silly. Pick up your granddaughter!"
Robert nervously slid his hands underneath Sybbie's back and carefully lifted her.
"Pull her into your chest, so she can rest her head," Sybil instructed.
Robert did so and smiled even more widely as he felt Sybbie curl up against his chest. He sat down on the edge of Sybil's bed and shifted to pass the baby over.
"No," Sybil said. "Hold her for a while. She's yours too."
Robert shifted his arms again so he was cradling her. "Miss Sybil Branson," he said looking down at her. "The world better be ready for you."
