Ok, not to spoil you guys...BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF! Yes, yes, I updated! The muse bit after that first chapter, and so here is the second, which in its own way is a "second introduction/prologue". I should warn you that I can't make promises to update like this *this* quickly, but after explaining the "origin" of the Branson twins, I really wanted to write one that explained (to a point) what happened to the Crawley girls, and so here it is!

And big, huge THANK YOU's to EVERYONE who kindly read, reviewed, followed, and favorite this story! I'm so glad so many people are excited for, I am too! It's going to be lots of fun; I mean how could it not be? DOUBLE THE BRANSONS!

One more note; this story *will* be light-hearted and funny for the most part, but both the last chapter and this one are probably examples of the two darkest moments in this fic. The subjects of still-births and miscarriages come up in this chapter, so just a word of warning to readers. But hopefully, by the end of the chapter, you'll be excited to see where things go and what happens next for our characters. Thank you again for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two

Yorkshire, 1896

She had been assisting the good doctor ever since he had arrived six hours ago, and had not left her Lady's side since the contractions started earlier that morning, shortly after breakfast. Sarah O'Brien had been serving as Lady's Maid to the Countess of Grantham for nearly ten years, and had stayed with her and assisted where she could with her last two births. Now here she was, assisting again, while his Lordship waited a floor below for the blessed news that he had a son and heir. Yes, everyone from Mr. Carson to the Dowager Countess were positive that this time, finally…her Ladyship would do her duty and produce the long-awaited heir to Downton Abbey and the earldom.

But things were not going well.

Her Ladyship's last two labors had been both long and strenuous, but when the entire business was over, her Ladyship glowed and gazed at her two daughters with such love and pride that no one would dare murmur a word of disappointment that Lady Mary and Lady Edith had been born as girls.

But something was different. Something wasn't right.

Before, her Ladyship tried to overcome the pain of the first few hours by walking around the room, standing and leaning against a chair or dressing table. This time, the pain was so sharp that her Ladyship could barely move, let alone stand on her feet and walk. She lay flat on her back, gripping the sheets and gasping, groaning, weeping as the pain hit her over and over with each contraction.

She was pale too, despite the sweat and heat of the room for early June. No, something wasn't right, and Sarah immediately went to inform his Lordship that she believed it would be best for Dr. Clarkson to come at once.

However, as Miss O'Brien would soon learn, the good doctor was assisting another woman with a difficult labor, a woman Sarah knew very well.

Her sister, Fanny, had nowhere else to go. Fanny's husband, Malcolm, was a no good drunken lout who was a fisherman and spent more of his time at sea than on dry land. And when his ship was in port, Fanny never knew if he would come home, or spend all his time in some pub or, as she suspected, some house of ill-repute, wasting his money on drink and prostitutes, instead of caring for his wife and soon to enter this world, first born. Well, third, really. Poor Fanny had miscarried twice before, and Malcolm blamed her entirely. His words of anger and scorn had hit their mark, because Fanny believed that it was her fault that both babies had died, despite what the doctors had told her. She believed that perhaps, just this once, if she were to give Malcolm a healthy child, he would stop his whoring and drinking and finally be the proper husband and father she had hoped for.

Yet when she had made the announcement that she was with child again, Malcolm went into a jealous rage, accusing her of being unfaithful and breaking their marriage vows, because how could he be the father of this child, after spending so many months at sea?

Sarah had never questioned her sister about the parentage of her baby; however she too couldn't help but be a little suspicious as to the timing of this pregnancy.

Malcolm more or less threw Fanny out, and Fanny went to the only place she could think of (and the only place that was nearby) which was Downton Village. It was a most unusual situation and a very awkward one as well. Miss O'Brien found a room at the Grantham Arms for her sister to reside in until the baby was born. After that, she had no idea what Fanny was going to do; most likely return to that lout, but what else could she do? And Fanny was still hopeful that perhaps if she showed him the child, showed him his likeness in the baby, that not only would she be back in his good graces, but he would finally be all those things she wanted in a spouse.

Yet things were not looking good at the Grantham Arms, either.

Dr. Clarkson sighed sadly as the labor finally came to an end. He quietly approached Miss O'Brien's sister, who was demanding to know why her child wasn't crying. He tried to explain the situation carefully, telling her what she had heard countless times in the past, that this "wasn't her fault", "a horrible tragedy", but "nothing could have been done", and so on and so forth.

Fanny didn't hear a word. She was staring blankly ahead, rocking herself back and forth, muttering under her breath "what will Malcolm say? What will Malcolm say?" over and over.

He would have stayed with her longer, if a maid hadn't come up to the room and frantically knocked on the door, telling the doctor he was needed at once up at the big house. It was there that Sarah learned the truth about her sister, how the labor pains came far too early, and the child was stillborn.

She was stunned, although there was a small part of her that honestly was not surprised by this news. Poor Fanny. Dr. Clarkson suggested that she leave her Ladyship in his care and go to her sister, but Sarah came out of her stupor and shook her head. Nothing could be done now for Fanny's child, but she may still be able to assist Dr. Clarkson with her Ladyship's. And so she remained, bathing her Lady's brow, holding her hand, urging her to push when the doctor told her to.

Hours passed, and Dr. Clarkson was not looking optimistic. Lord Grantham had come twice to his wife's room, looking tired and disheveled and worried. He seemed torn, as if he was debating if he should pass the room's threshold and enter, or remain out of sight so as not to get in the way. It was during his second visit that her Ladyship let out a mighty scream that chilled Sarah to her core. Suddenly Dr. Clarkson and the nurse who had come with him began muttering something about blood, and Lord Grantham gasped, his hand rising to his mouth and for the first time since coming to work at Downton, Sarah O'Brien saw the Earl of Grantham cry.

But she had no time to ease his worry. She turned back to her Ladyship and handed the doctor the towels that he would need to mop up the blood.

Was it her imagination or did the room seem to spin? A strange haze seemed to fill the area; people were shouting, her Ladyship was screaming, his Lordship could be heard sobbing in the corridor, and the horrible odor of blood filled the air.

And then…a new sound broke through all others.

A child's cry. To be specific, a newborn child!

"It's a girl!" the nurse assisting Dr. Clarkson announced.

Ah well, another disappointment for his Lordship, Sarah thought. Still, judging from the wails that were escaping the child's lungs, she sounded healthy!

"Well done, milady, well done!" she said turning to her Ladyship. However, Sarah's smile disappeared as she noticed the way her Ladyship's face was still scrunched tightly in pain, and her breathing was coming in short, hard rasps. "What's going on?" she demanded, turning to Dr. Clarkson. This was not like the last two times. After the births, her Ladyship had recovered very quickly, and would immediately demand to hold her new daughter.

But it was nothing like that this time.

"I don't believe it," Dr. Clarkson gasped.

"What? What is it?"

"Twins!"

Now it was Sarah's turn to gasp. Twins?

The nurse had cut the cord and cleaned up the first child, wrapping her quickly in a soft blanket, before handing her to Sarah, urging her to go and show his Lordship. Sarah was torn but did as the nurse said, finding his Lordship pacing the corridor just outside and looking so anxious. "Another daughter, milord," Sarah said, showing him the child. She expected him to look sour, perhaps even disappointed. After all, he still had no heir to inherit. Yet his Lordship gasped, and with trembling hands took the little girl who seemed to finally manage to quiet down, especially now that she was in the hands of her father.

"Cora?" he asked, looking to Sarah for hopeful confirmation. But that hope died quickly when she was unable to give it to him.

Another one of her Ladyship's screams suddenly filled the air, and Lord Grantham nearly staggered at the sound. "Good God, what…what's happen—"

"It's twins, milord," Sarah informed him, carefully watching him hold the baby.

"TWINS?" he gasped, staring in shock. Maybe he would get that son and heir after all?

But at the sound of another one of her Ladyship's screams, Sarah turned on her heel and went right back into the room…just in time to hear another child's cry.

Only this time, it was weaker. Much, much weaker.

Dr. Clarkson glanced at the nurse, who didn't look very positive. They both seemed to realize then that she had reentered the room, and therefore put smiles on before informing her that it was another girl. "Identical twins," Dr. Clarkson added.

Another girl. Such a pity. She felt sorry for her Lady; she knew how desperately her Ladyship wanted to give his Lordship a son.

But she noticed how…quiet the newborn was, especially compared to the first.

"O'Brien?"

Sarah gasped and turned to her Ladyship, moving quickly and kneeling by her side. "Yes, milady? I'm here."

She swallowed, looking so exhausted. "Where…?"

Sarah knew what was asking for. "His Lordship has the first one," she began to say, and then quickly explained that her Ladyship had given birth to twins!

"Identical twins!" Dr. Clarkson added again, putting on a smile. Yet Sarah was not fooled; she could tell that both the good doctor and his nurse were keeping something…and she had a horrible feeling it had something to do with that second baby.

"Twins…?" her Ladyship asked weakly, trying to sit up despite what the doctor was telling her.

"Two girls," Sarah added quickly, not wanting her Ladyship to get her hopes up that the much-needed and desired heir had been born.

But if her Ladyship was disappointed by the news, she didn't show it. "Where…I…I want to see…" she was trying to sit up again, her hands desperately reaching out to hold her newborns. Sarah wanted to hand the babies to her, but she glanced over her shoulder at the doctor and nurse, both of whom were leaning over the most recent bundle, and both whispering and looking…worried.

"Shall I let his Lordship in?" she asked, hoping that would distract her Ladyship, as well as alert Dr. Clarkson that whatever explanation needed to be given, he better do it quickly.

She didn't even have to open the door, his Lordship entered the room as if on cue, still holding and bouncing the newest Crawley daughter in his arms and immediately going to his wife's side. "Oh!" her Ladyship gasped, seeing the tiny girl who truly had the most striking pair of blue eyes. "Oh she's beautiful!" her Ladyship murmured reverently, while crying in happiness at the sight. It was a sweet moment, this scene of a happy family, but Sarah knew it was not going to last, especially when her Ladyship lifted her head in anticipation and asked, "Where's her sister?"

Dr. Clarkson cleared his throat, and judging from the expression on his face, it did not look good. Sarah stood silently in the corner of the room while the doctor explained that the child was extremely small, mentioning something about her lungs were weak, her heartbeat was weak, over and over he used the word "weak".

…And it did not look promising.

The child was taken by Dr. Clarkson to a separate room where she could be watched and observed, although Sarah swore she heard him mutter to the nurse, "If she makes the night, it will be a miracle."

Now with the "excitement" of the evening over (at least for the time being), Sarah was given permission by his Lordship to go to the Grantham Arms to see her sister, who seemed to be in the same state Dr. Clarkson had described to her when he had left: pale, hollow, rocking herself back and forth, and murmuring over and over, "What will Malcolm say?"

Sarah also noticed that nearby lay a laundry basket…covered with a sheet.

It didn't take a genius for Sarah to deduce what was lying beneath it.

"All I ever wanted was a child…" Fanny gasped, looking at no one. "All I ever wanted was to give Malcolm a child…"

Malcolm Crawford didn't deserve anything from her sister, but Sarah had long since vowed to stay out of the whole mess. Yet now…as she stood in this room, her gaze moving back and forth from the covered basket to the weeping woman rocking back and forth…

An idea was dawning.

A terrible, awful, scandalous idea, one that even weeks later, after the idea had been carried out, Sarah O'Brien would sit and cry and bitterly regret her weakness in seeing it through…

But by then it was too late.

By then the funeral had been performed, the condolences had been offered, and the tombstone had been ordered. By then a tiny coffin had been buried and wept over by a grieving mother, while her husband stood nearby, holding a crying child.

By then everyone believed that the identical sibling to little Lady Sybil Crawley was residing in heaven with the angels.

…And not on her way to Liverpool with her new mother.

York, 1919

"Right…one month's wages," grumbled a stern voice, holding an envelope out for her to take.

Sarah Crawford sighed and took it from Mr. Jennings hands, murmuring a quick thank you and offering a curtsey, before turning to leave the butler's pantry.

"It's a shame it had to be like this, Sarah," the butler called out when she reached the door. "You're a good worker, I'll not deny that." She turned and looked over her shoulder at the gray-haired man that everyone at Colton Park lived in fear of. It was rare to receive any sort of compliment from the crusty butler, and this was the closest she had ever heard him mutter towards her. "Such a waste," he sighed, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork on his desk. "Such a pity, such a waste."

Sarah stiffened, but kept her mouth shut. In all her years of working in service, she had learned the careful art of picking and choosing one's battles. And even though someone could argue and say that she had nothing left to lose, the truth of the matter was her heart was too sad and too tired. She just wanted to go; leave Colton Park and never look back.

She exited the butler's pantry and reentered the Servant's Hall, not surprised that the chatter which was going on around the table came to a stop upon her reentrance. She didn't bother to look up; she knew the faces that would greet her, who would be looking sympathetic and pitiful, who would be looking stern and ashamed, and then a few that she knew who would be smirking at her misfortune.

"Do you have everything you need, Miss Crawford?" a stern voice spoke. Sarah lifted her eyes to meet those of Mrs. Miller, the housekeeper. She simply nodded her head, quickly buttoning up her coat and moving beyond the Servant's Hall to the corridor just beyond where her suitcase and handbag rested and waited for her.

"Bye, bye Sarah!" cooed a voice from the Servant's Hall.

"Hush, Ethel!" Mrs. Miller hissed, but despite the reprimand, a group around the table burst into giggles at the ginger-haired housemaid's mocking farewell.

Still, Sarah was not to be outdone entirely. While she may not choose to stand up to Mr. Jennings, she would not let Ethel Parks get the better of her. "By all means, you're welcome to him!" she shouted back. "Perhaps now that I'm leaving, he'll finally notice you?"

A gasp went throughout the Servant's Hall, and Sarah couldn't help but smile to herself as she imagined the furious look that was coloring the housemaid's face now.

Mrs. Miller did not look pleased. "That was uncalled for, Sarah," she muttered disapprovingly.

It was; it was an insult not only to Ethel, but to the very family which until this morning, she had been serving for the past five years. However, Sarah did not feel any sort of pity or regret for her comment; not when the Bryants had turned a deaf ear to her explanations, or a blind eye to their son's rakish behavior.

"My apologies, Mrs. Miller," she murmured, although she had a feeling that the housekeeper was aware that she spoke the words for formality's sake, and not because she genuinely meant them.

Mrs. Miller proceeded to walk Sarah to the door. "And where will you go?" she asked, the usual stern and harsh tone she was known for lightening slightly, with an air of concern tinged at its edges.

Sarah bit her lip, not sure how to answer. She really didn't want to go back to Liverpool; there was nothing for her there other than painful memories. Manchester perhaps? There was always London, of course, and being such a large city, that may be her best option with finding work. But the idea frightened her, especially since she had never stepped foot in the capital city, before. Where would she even start?

"Well…" her attention was drawn back to Mrs. Miller who was addressing her again. "I know that Mr. Jennings made it very clear not to give you a reference…"

Sarah's eyes widened as she looked at the housekeeper and noticed that she was holding a folded piece of paper. "Mrs. Miller!" she gasped. "I…I don't know what to—"

"It's not what you think, my dear," Mrs. Miller clarified. "So before you start getting your hopes up, let me be quite clear by telling you this is not a reference," she placed the paper in Sarah's confused hands. "But it is something."

Sarah's brow furrowed with even more confusion, but she unfolded the paper and began to read its contents…quickly realizing that it was a letter, addressed to Mrs. Miller.

"My cousin," Mrs. Miller explained. "He runs a pub and an inn in the village of Downton."

"Downton?" Sarah asked, looking up with curious eyes. Why did that name sound familiar to her?

"Yes, where Downton Abbey resides, the home and seat for the Earl of Grantham," Mrs. Miller explained with a slight dismissive gesture of her hand. "Anyway, my cousin wrote to me a fortnight ago, asking if I could recommend any girls to come and work as maids. Apparently since the War ended, his business has doubled; so many poor soldiers have no place to go, and are making their homes at inns such as his."

Sarah was staring back at Mrs. Miller in shock. "You…you recommended me…?"

The housekeeper looked a little guilty (she was not one to go out of her way and "disobey" Mr. Jennings), however, the butler said not to give Miss Crawford a reference; he never said she couldn't recommend the girl to her cousin as a possible pub maid.

"It won't pay you nearly as much as you made here," Mrs. Miller grunted. "But…it will keep you from starving and freezing and give you time to eventually find something better."

Sarah wanted to launch herself at the housekeeper and hug her so tightly, thanking her over and over for what she had done. Things didn't look so bleak now! She had a job (well, a potential job, if Mrs. Miller's cousin approved of hiring her) but compared to how things looked this morning when she received word that Mr. Jennings had summoned her to his office, and compared to the previous evening when Lord Bryant thundered and roared and hurled insult after insult at her…

Indeed, in the light of the new day, things were looking much, much better.

A new life, she found herself thinking with a smile. A new life away from this house! And away from him!

"Oh Mrs. Miller, I…I don't know what to say, but thank you! Thank you so much!"

"Calm down, child, calm down!" the housekeeper hissed, glancing nervously over her shoulder to make sure no one else had heard them. "And don't thank me yet; that letter is his response to my recommendation, which I only sent a few days ago—"

Sarah was startled by this revelation, but the look on Mrs. Miller's face told her that the housekeeper was well aware with how unhappy Sarah had been, working there at Colton Park, especially since now that the War was over, a certain "gentleman" would be about.

"Thank you," Sarah murmured again, doing her best to fight back the tears that threatened to fall. She had not known a life of kindness; most people she met were hard and cruel, with agendas of their own to fulfill, and a willingness to sacrifice others to see those agendas through. So on the rare occasions that Sarah did encounter kindness, it always moved her to tears.

"Yes, well, you best be off," the housekeeper answered, doing her best to not show the emotion that was welling up in her steel gray eyes. "A bus will depart for Downton at half-past three; I suggest you be on it so you can reach the village before it gets dark."

Sarah smiled and nodded her head, and deciding to break propriety, threw her arms around the rigid woman, hugging her tight, before releasing her and grabbing her suitcase and handbag and hurrying out the door.

Downton. That was where she was going to make her fresh start. She couldn't help but smile at the thought. It was more than just the promise of a new job and a new life; there was something about that word…"Downton"…that made her grin.