Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone for reading/reviewing. I'm so glad that this version of Tom's family is resonating with people.
The day continues in this chapter, and Aileen's presence and help to Sybil continue to alienate Cora, who is going to go through a bit more angst before she comes back to a good place. I don't think her a bad person or a bad mother and I think generally her instincts about Sybil are good and right, but in terms of actions, she tends to defer to Robert (not attending the wedding, not sending her money to attend Mary's wedding, etc.), so in some ways, this story puts her in a situation in which she is forced to confront the consequences of that (i.e. Sybil looking to Aileen for support, not her own mother). Also, Aileen is more in tune with what Sybil needs than Cora, even though she herself birthed three daughters, because Cora's last experience with birth was more than 20 years ago. Aileen's experiences delivering babies are much more recent and much more practical.
Lastly, a word on timing: On the show, Dr. Clarkson comes to see Sybil because of false labor pains. Sir Philip arrives the next day and Sybil doesn't deliver until after dinner the day after that. For the purposes of this story, I've abbreviated the timeline, so when Dr. Clarkson sees her here, labor has started but is moving along very slowly.
Entering what would be her room for the next few weeks, Caitlin took in a short breath. It was bigger than any bedroom in her family's house in Dublin, but not bigger than the parlor or the kitchen. The bed and wardrobe were both bigger and made of newer, finer wood than hers, but the polish made the room feel austere, barely lived in and not really belonging to anyone. Caitlin supposed that was often the case in such houses as Downton, where the rooms outnumbered the residents, but it made her appreciate the warmth of her family's humble home in spite of her still present desire to have a space that was her very own.
Although she found everything very nice, nothing truly took her breath away until she stepped up to the windows to look outside. The room sat at the back of the house and overlooked the gardens and the seemingly endless grassy meadows beyond. Born in Dublin, Caitlin had never known life on a tenant farm. As a result, she regarded the countryside with a kind of romantic fondness, quite unlike her older siblings, who still remembered too keenly the labor that farm life had required of them to share that fondness. Despite the diversions that city life may offer a young woman of her age, looking out onto the Crawleys' estate, Caitlin felt the thrill of newness and possibility. For several minutes, as she stood at the window, she tried to picture herself running as fast as she could across the vast openness until she had no breath or strength left.
"I can show you the gardens later, if you like?" Edith offered quietly, taking Caitlin out of her reverie. "The village flower show is only a few weeks away and the blooms already look quite lovely."
"Oh," Caitlin said, turning back toward the room quickly, having almost forgotten that she wasn't alone. "That would be nice."
"Do you ride?" Edith asked, without realizing that such a past-time would never have been available to Caitlin.
"Well, no, of course not," Caitlin said with a smile, not taking any offense.
"Of course," Edith replied quickly. "I'm so sorry."
"No need to apologize," Caitlin said looking down, fidgeting with her hands. "I'm not sorry for the things I don't have and neither should you be. That's what mam always says."
"I'm sorry." Edith shook her head, blushing. "I mean—all right then. But if you'd like to give it a go, I'm sure Lynch would be happy to offer a lesson."
Caitlin giggled. "I hope this is not rude to say, but I'm not especially fond of horses or any large animal that may carry me away against my will. They're lovely to look at, though . . . in paintings or from a distance."
Edith smiled. "That's precisely how I feel. Mary and Sybil are the ones for riding."
"Do you miss Sybil very much?" Caitlin asked. Rolling her eyes at herself, she said, "Well, I don't mean now that she's back, but before? I'm the youngest so people have been leaving home my whole life. I miss them terribly but I wonder whether they miss me."
Edith smiled not surprised at how easily she could relate to the sentiment. "I did miss her, but I was happy for her. That eases the sting."
"You really were happy for her?" Caitlin asked, unable to keep the surprise out of her tone.
"I was shocked when she first announced she'd go to Dublin with Tom, but . . . I've, um, I've learned since that doing the right thing and doing what's expected of you don't always go hand in hand, and wanting to marry who you think the right sort of man is, with the right sort of house—none of that necessarily leads to happiness. She found it in her way, and I'm glad."
Caitlin thought she heard something in what Edith was saying beyond commentary on Sybil's choices, but she didn't feel she knew Edith well enough yet to ask what that was. So she offered, "I suppose if there is someone to miss here at Downton, it's easier to be distracted. There must be so many interesting things to do."
"I'm afraid it's actually rather dull," Edith replied with a shrug. "The most interesting things to do are usually things papa frowns upon."
"Maybe that's what drove Sybil to the garage, then," Caitlin said with a giggle. "Oh, may we go see her?"
Edith nodded and led Caitlin out of the room and down the hall toward the family's rooms. She knocked quietly, entering when she heard Cora's voice on the other side.
"Mama, this is Tom's younger sister, Caitlin," Edith said as the two walked in.
"It's lovely to meet you," Cora said with a small smile.
Caitlin curtseyed a bit awkwardly and said, "Thank you, your ladyship," before walking over to the bed, where her mother and brother were helping Sybil sit back up after her most recent contraction.
"Oh, Sybil, how exciting!" Caitlin said, leaning over to give her sister-in-law a hug. "I hope it hasn't been too painful."
Sybil smiled as Caitlin sat in the space next to her on the bed. "Not terribly painful yet, though plenty exhausting already."
"Don't get too comfortable, either of you," Aileen told them. "You should walk about before the next one comes. Caitlin, why don't you help her while I draw a bath."
"Excuse me . . . walk?" Cora said, a ring of alarm in her voice. "You think Sybil should go for a walk in her state?"
"It's all right, mama," Sybil said, already shifting her legs over to the side of the bed to stand, with Caitlin's help. "It helps the blood flow, so my feet don't swell from all the sitting."
"I also find that it encourages the child to get into position, so to speak," Aileen said. "And we won't send her to the village or anything, just a turn or two about the room."
Cora's brow furrowed slightly, but she said nothing more.
Edith watched her mother for a moment. Cora seemed a bit ill-at-ease, which was rare for someone who usually played hostess easily and gracefully.
As Sybil stepped off the bed, Caitlin took hold of her right arm and Tom came around to take her left. She was unsteady of her feet for her first few steps, having spent most of the morning on the bed, but after a few minutes, she regained her balance and confidence and walked steadily with only Caitlin at her side and Tom standing by the window watching.
"Have you bought a pram already?" Caitlin asked. "Walking about will be so pleasant here, not so loud as Dublin. I can see the gardens from my room!" Seeing a sharp look from her mother, Caitlin quickly added, "That is, from the guest room I'm staying in."
"I'm afraid we don't have one yet," Sybil said, "but you're absolutely right."
"We've only really looked to the essentials," Tom said. "Since we don't know yet how long we'll be at Downton or where we'll end up."
Tom and Sybil looked at one another after Tom spoke, so they missed both of their mothers trying to catch their eyes and garner from their expressions a clue as to what destination—and what country—would be their preference. Not seeing anything, Cora and Aileen looked at each other for a brief acknowledgement that they were likely of differing opinions as to where the young family should settle.
After a short silence, Edith ventured, "Shall I have Mrs. Hughes bring up some tea, Sybil? I can't imagine you'll come down for luncheon today."
Sybil smiled. "Not likely, but yes, tea would be nice. Thank you."
"If it's not too much trouble, Lady Edith," Aileen said, "Could you have her bring up a full pot and tell her to be generous with the leaves."
Edith nodded. "I'll see to it now," she said and stepped out.
"Where do you keep you handkerchiefs, dear?" Aileen asked Sybil.
"In the top drawer, just there," Sybil said pointing to a chest across the room.
Aileen was about to walk over when she noticed Cora giving her another funny look. "I beg your pardon, your Lady—um, Cora, I should explain myself."
Cora shook her head, embarrassed that curiosity and skepticism could be read so easily on her face. "No need, Aileen. Please be as you are at home."
Caitlin giggled. "That's not exactly possible here, Lady Grantham. It's too unlike our home."
"Caitlin," Aileen said, rolling her eyes. "Keep your thoughts to yourself, please." Addressing Cora again, she added, "I'll put the tea leaves in a handkerchief to make a compress for her neck. The scent is relaxing and the warmth will keep her muscles from tensing up, which, in turn, conserves a bit of energy for actual delivery."
"That's very thoughtful," Cora said, "but I'll go and ask Mrs. Hughes to bring up some cheesecloth. I wouldn't want to stain any of Sybil's nice handkerchiefs."
"Don't worry, mama," Sybil said. "They're not all that nice. I wouldn't mind sacrificing one on such a day."
"No, she's right," Aileen said. "Staining is not likely, but if there's a better alternative, we might as well use it. And I'm thinking of my own handkerchiefs, which are certainly not so fine as yours."
"All right, then, if you say so," Sybil said with a smile.
Cora couldn't help but wonder at her daughter's words—if you say so—as if only Aileen's suggestion was worth taking.
"Well, I'll just see to the bath, then," Aileen said, turning toward the door to the adjoining bathroom."
"I'm sorry," Cora cut in again. "You want to take a bath? You do have your own bathroom with your room."
Sybil and Caitlin both laughed. "She means for me, mama," Sybil said.
"Pardon me?" Cora said, trying once again to keep any sort of emotion or pique out of her voice. "You mean to take a bath? Now?"
"It won't be hot," Aileen said. "Again, it's to help her body and muscles relax so she may rest."
"Please don't worry, mama," Sybil said. "I've seen and helped Aileen do this several times for women in circumstances far less comfortable than this. I'm in good hands."
Aileen smiled at Cora, then walked into the bathroom to begin filling the tub, and though Aileen's expression hadn't been meant that way, Cora couldn't help but feel patronized. Feeling superfluous, she said, "Well, I'll go let Mrs. Hughes know about the cheesecloth."
"Thank you," Sybil said, smiling at her mother—a smile that turned into a grin when she shifted her gaze to Cailtin, next to her, then Tom.
Cora had smiled back, but as she closed the door to Sybil's room behind her, she couldn't shake the feeling that if Sybil had her druthers, she'd not be at Downton right now.
As she headed down the stairs, she saw Robert coming up.
"How is Sybil?" he asked.
"In good hands," she said in a rather clipped manner.
"What do you mean by that?" Robert asked, seeing a tightness in her face.
Cora shook her head as if trying to dispel the thoughts that were trying to root in her mind. "Nothing. Tom's mother and sister are taking care of Sybil, and she seems to be enjoying their company, so I'll come down for luncheon after all."
"That reminds me," Robert said. "Sir Philip just rang. Apparently, he had business in York so he was up on the train early this morning. Having seen to whatever it was, he's making his way here, so he'll be with us for luncheon as well."
"Why did you invite him, Robert?" Cora asked, sighing exasperatedly. "Dr. Clarkson is perfectly capable and now we have—" She stopped short, deciding this wasn't the moment or the place for revealing what Sybil had just told to her about who it was she wanted delivering her baby. It was far too early for what Cora knew would be an exhausting exchange.
Robert noticed her change in tone, of course. "And now we have what?"
Cora sighed. "Never mind. I need to go see Mrs. Hughes."
With that, she continued down the stairs. When she got to the bottom, she looked up again to Robert, who was now at the top.
"Robert?" she called out.
"Yes?"
"Just remember that even though she's back in this house, Sybil is still who she is and we should be accepting and respectful of her choices and just be happy that she's here again."
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I say. Can you just not forget that, please?"
"How could I possibly forget when I have to sit and eat with the result of her choices, as you put it, at breakfast every morning."
This wasn't the attitude Cora wanted from Robert on this day. Annoyed, she rolled her eyes and turned to go.
"Cora."
"What, Robert?"
"I won't forget."
She smiled, a bit sadly, but Robert was too far away to see that. "Thank you," she said, then continued on her way.
XXX
Thirty or so minutes later, after enjoying her lukewarm bath, which made enduring the next round of pains easier, Sybil took the tea compress Aileen had made her, laid back down on her bed and to Tom's great relief managed to doze off.
The nurse Dr. Clarkson had sent from the hospital arrived just before Sybil had lain down, so Tom suggested that Aileen take the opportunity to see her room and freshen up before luncheon. Once in her room, Aileen reiterated that she was content to stay with Sybil and would happily go down to the kitchen for some bread and cheese if she got hungry. Tom reminded her that regardless of her opinions on the family's way of life or their invitation to her to accept their hospitality (and by extension the service of their employees), Mrs. Hughes and especially Mrs. Patmore would likely have strong objection to giving an interloper free passage into their domain.
"If you truly don't want to make trouble for the servants," Tom said, "then you'll stay out of their way and allow them to do their jobs, which means accepting that they serve you in some capacity."
With a sigh, Aileen agreed.
Caitlin giggled at her mother's stubbornness. "Mam, why do you have to be so suspicious when people are only trying to be nice?"
"Some people are only trying to be nice," Aileen replied, "others are trying to get something from you."
"Well, I think we can assume the Crawleys don't want anything from us," Tom said with a laugh. "Except maybe being rid of me, and I think that's really only Robert at this point."
Caitlin frowned. "You two are a pair! Why should the Crawleys accept us as family if we aren't going to be bothered to do the same? And with the little one coming, honestly!"
Tom smiled and walked over to his sister and put his arm around her. "Are you going to broker a peace?"
Caitlin lifted her nose in the air. "Maybe, I'll just switch sides."
Aileen came up to her and grabbed her face in her hands. "Oh, I think you'd miss us too much, but your comments are wise and duly noted."
"Good," Caitlin said with determined nod. "Anyway, I'm quite hungry."
The three Bransons walked down the stairs with the intention of waiting for luncheon in the library, but in fact, they made it down just in time for the arrival of Sir Philip Tapsell. The rest of the family had gathered downstairs and Carson noted to Robert that luncheon would be served whenever the family was ready to step into the dining room, so introductions were quick.
Robert offered Sir Philip time to set his things aside, and Alfred escorted him to the guest room that had been prepared for him. Although the family was waiting downstairs, the doctor naturally asked to see his patient, and Alfred proceeded to take him there. Given her state, Sybil's sleep was light so despite the nurse's efforts to cut Sir Philip off before he came into the room and woke her, Sybil sat up on hearing him coming in.
"Pardon me," she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "You must be Sir Philip."
"Indeed, Lady Sybil," he said in his usual formal manner. "Your father mentioned on the telephone this morning that the child has already announced his or her impending arrival."
Sybil smiled nervously. "Yes, though I suspect it'll be a while yet."
Sir Philip smiled indulgently in a way Sybil knew all too well from her time as a nurse and having to deal with doctors who never took her knowledge of the patient or medicine seriously.
"Well, shall we get to it, then?" He said, setting his medical bag on the sill of the window and opening it.
Sybil sighed. "Sir Philip, I wonder that you came all this way for—"
"Now," he said, walking back over to her with stethoscope in hand, as if he hadn't heard hear—or hadn't been listening.
Sybil sighed. She knew, and Aileen had confirmed, that delivery was still many hours, possibly another day off, so she figured she'd allow the unknown, uppity doctor to do his exam, which was short and hardly thorough anyway, and wait to speak to her parents directly about just how she wanted her birth to go off. In minutes, he was done and left without another word to her. With the nurse's help, she was able to lie down in a comfortable position again. As she did so, she saw the cheesecloth and held it close to her chest with a smile.
No matter what her parents or Sir Philip would say, she had her champions in the Bransons and she knew they would not be dismissed without a fight.