I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying this. This one is in the Autumn after the end of Series 1.

Making her rounds of the upstairs floors on a dismally overcast afternoon, Elsie was drawn by the sound of a voice resonating in a particularly quiet wing of the house. Although it sounded like a likely tale, she had not been eavesdropping; it just so happened that the tones that reached her ears happened to be particularly distinctive- Irish- and rather more carrying than they ought to be. What on earth was Mr Branson doing in this part of the house?- she wondered. She stopped on the landing, listening attentively. The door ahead of her, leading to one of the smaller sitting rooms, was slightly ajar- the sound issuing from it with ease.

"Mr Branson... Tom..."

There was no mistaking that voice either; it was Lady Sybil. Although she couldn't honestly say she'd been expecting anyone else, Elsie groaned a little inside. The voices were talking again but she wasn't paying attention to what they were saying, she could fairly guess. Foolish girl, she thought to herself, she knows what she's getting into- I've told her what she's getting into!- but will she stop! She had half a mind to go in there with another fictional summons from her Ladyship but something stopped her. She couldn't; it was sentimental, and foolish, of her but she couldn't quite bring herself to go and spoil for Sybil what she had often wished for herself. It wouldn't be fair.

Coming out of her thoughts a moment, across the gap she could see in the door, she caught a glimpse of two people moving close together. The talking had ceased altogether. Well, she was damned if she was going to go barging in now. As quietly as she could, she edged forwards and closed the door so that they could at least have some modicum of privacy, only hoping things wouldn't...

She almost fainted when she saw her Ladyship turning around the corner at the other end of the corridor. It had been a habit of hers for years now to find herself in awkward situations of other people's making. Her Ladyship couldn't have failed to have seen her: her last hope at a lucky escape sailed out of the window.

"Ah, Mrs Hughes..."

"Good day, your Ladyship," Elsie greeted her Lady Grantham loudly, "What brings you to this wing of the house?"

"I was wondering if you'd seen Lady Sybil?" her Ladyship enquired, "I can't seem to find her anywhere near her room and you know what she's like."

I think I'm rapidly learning, Elsie mused inwardly, but what did I expect? She always could be a little devil when she wanted to.

"Lady Sybil?" Elsie repeated, again loudly hoping they would get the message on the other side of the door, "I couldn't say I'd seen her for more than a few seconds since breakfast time."

Impressively, it wasn't even a lie either. Her Ladyship sighed.

"Well if you do happen to come across her, first ask her where on earth she's been and then send her down to me. I'll be in the drawing room for most of the afternoon."

With a smile to her housekeeper, her Ladyship made her way back down the corridor and towards the stairs. Elsie waited a few seconds after she had disappeared from view before turning towards the door and knocking clearly.

Mercifully, she saw that the young pair had untangled themselves. Lady Sybil was sitting on a couch watching the floor, while Mr Branson stood a little way back beside a bookcase. Both looked as if they had spent the last few moments in a very tense state of silence. She realised that her hands were on her hips; she felt a distinct need to be imperious at that moment. It was then she realised that Mr Branson looked about ready to kiss her, though hopefully only in thanks for saving him from getting into a potentially sticky situation with the mistress of the house. Drawing herself up to her full height, she raised a stern eyebrow at the young man. He understood himself to be dismissed and left swiftly, glancing fleetingly back at Lady Sybil and nodding to the housekeeper before he went.

Left alone in the room, the two women were quiet for a moment; Lady Sybil resting her head on her hands, still looking at the floor. Elsie didn't quite know what the girl was thinking or how she would react to her speaking; although she had just averted a catastrophic incident with Lady Grantham, she had also practically sent Mr Branson packing. She let out a sigh, before crossing tentatively to the couch and taking a seat beside Sybil- not without caution. She felt herself sitting up very straight, but couldn't quite help it.

"Thank you, Mrs Hughes," Lady Sybil spoke at last, "It was very good of you to put off mama like that, I can't think what she'd have said if she'd found..." she looked up from the floor, her complexion rather paler than usual, glancing towards the housekeeper and evidently catching a glimpse of her expression, as she added with a half bitter laugh "What must you think of me?"

Elsie took time to consider her response.

"I think that didn't look very much like giving him up," she answered levelly.

"I didn't say I would," Sybil responded firmly, "Until very recently I could never have made so bold a promise; I hardly knew what I wanted myself."

Elsie was quiet for a moment. She wasn't used- when dealing with other people's problems- to having to decide between her heart and her head. Rationally, she knew that Sybil should give all hope of Mr Branson up and forget about him as quickly as possible, but some instinct in her knew that that would and should never happen. She had never had reason to think of herself as a real romantic before and was half tempted to laugh at herself, before she remembered the situation in hand.

"You do love him, don't you?" she stated quietly, "You thought you might before but you know now."

Lady Sybil was still for a moment then seemed to realise there was no point denying in and nodded.

"What will you do?" she asked, rather than dictating a course of action to her.

It frightened her to see Lady Sybil look as lost as the question seemed to make her and she saw more than a glimpse of the child who'd told her about her nasty older sisters in her face. The girl looked down at her shoes again.

"I haven't the faintest idea," she admitted, then, "What would you do in my position, Mrs Hughes?"

Elsie half-laughed.

"I have never in my life been in anything like your position," she reminded her, "I was a farmer's daughter; who I married or didn't was of no consequence as long as I had a roof over my head."

Sybil shook her head slightly.

"I mean, you've been in love, haven't you?" she corrected, "You told me not long ago on the night of the garden party. And years ago, you said the only man you loved had been the one to never ask you."

Elsie's mouth fell open a little that Lady Sybil's memory extended that far back to a conversation she'd had with a servant. The girl was looking at her quite seriously and she realised she wasn't going to get away from answering.

"Well," she began slowly, "I suppose you could say..." she trailed off. This was unlikely to be what Lady Sybil wanted to hear.

"Go on, Mrs Hughes," Sybil encouraged her, "Please tell me honestly, whatever you say."

"I suppose you could say I gave him up," she told her, trying to do it as gently as possible. The girl was looking at her, wanting further explanation, "I never told him how I felt, purely because I thought it would only upset our friendship if he wasn't interested."

Sybil was silent for a few moments, taking it in.

"Do you regret it?" she asked finally.

That Elsie could not answer. And Sybil seemed to understand why not. They sat there beside each other, not speaking, for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

"If I were to give him up," Sybil broke the silence, "And that's not to say I'm going to, if I were to give him up, could I... could I talk to you about him? Only occasionally. But if I didn't, I feel I should die."

Elsie gave her a sad smile.

"Of course you might," she replied.

Both were aware of what she was going to say next before she did, but were still somehow surprised by it.

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't though," Elsie confessed, "If you didn't give him up at all, that is. As much as I'd like to, and your mother would certainly give me the sack for saying this; I can't."

She turned to see Lady Sybil biting her lip and almost beaming. She was trying hard to hide it, but she was.

"Thank you, Mrs Hughes."

"Go on, get downstairs quickly or your mother will have my guts for garters anyway."

Next chapter should hopefully be a bit happier and will probably have little Sybil in again, if you would like. Please review if you have the time!