Hopefully you've all recovered from the cliffhanger I ended with yesterday. This chapter is the continuation of season 1 episode 6. I hope you are enjoying and please keep the reviews coming!
What Love Can Do Chapter 4
As this realization hit him, he immediately knew that he had to protect her, from anything. He immediately picked her up and carried her back to the car. He just kept thinking, No, no please dear God, no. Take me, take me. Not her, anything but her.
"This way," said Crawley and led him down a stone hallway. They somehow got to the car from there, and Crawley helped him put Sybil in the back of the car. He got in, and took off immediately, looking over his shoulder at the prone figure on the backseat.
Fear took hold of him again. What if she was seriously injured? Well, he thought to himself, of course she's seriously injured you daft sod, look at the blood coming from her head for Heaven's sake!
Crawley told him to take them to his house in the village, and he couldn't pretend he wasn't grateful for this. He didn't particularly want to face Lord Grantham and explain to him and his family that they had gone to the counting of the votes. He knew that they would have his job for this, even if it wasn't his idea. He had allowed her to get out of the car, to be injured while he could have done something about it. He would have to go back to Ireland, and he would never see her again. This caused him such pain that he almost doubled over. He couldn't not see her again, not now that he knew how he felt about her. She was all that mattered to him anymore.
He drove too fast on the way to the village and he knew it, but Crawley didn't say anything and all he cared about was getting Sybil to safety. He dropped them both off at the Crawley house, and he was told to go and tell Lady Mary what had happened. As he drove to the big house, he tried to figure out what he was going to say, but by the time he got there, his mind was utterly blank. He went through the kitchen and asked Gwen if he could see Lady Mary, as a matter of urgency. When she came into the room, looking confused and concerned, he still had no idea what he was going to say to her.
"I've fetched a coat," said Gwen, breaking the momentary silence.
"Why? What do I need a coat for?" she asked, still looking bewildered.
"It's why I came to fetch you, milady. We've taken Lady Sybil to Crawley House in the village."
"Why, what's happened?"
He took a deep breath before saying anything. He knew he would lose his job if he took the blame, but he didn't want anyone in her family angry at her. Who knows what they would do to her if they found out she tricked them all? He would take the blow for her, and find another job.
"I took her to Ripon for the count."
Lady Mary looked at him with a mixture of shock, horror, and rage on her face, and he knew it was over for him.
"She got injured in a fight."
Fear shown in her face, and she put her hand on his arm, and then, just a quickly to her mouth.
"Take me there at once," she said, the concern plain on her face, and they both rushed out of the house towards the car.
The drive to Crawley House with Lady Mary was one of the longest in his life. He wanted with all his heart to make sure that she was alright, but was not sure how to do it without revealing that he was in love with her. He couldn't reveal that, not now, at least, not until he worked up the courage to tell her.
But how could he tell her? Why on earth would she care about the chauffeur? She was one of them, the aristocracy, exactly what he wanted to bring down. But she was more than that. She was political, beautiful, smart, and cared what others thought. She was perfect…but what was he doing! How could he explain to anyone, let alone her how he felt. It was unheard of! A lady and a chauffeur. He should probably see losing his job as a blessing. He could go back to Ireland and find some other work, and forget about her. That would be best.
When they arrived at the Crawley house, Lady Mary told him to stay in the car. He had a hard time obeying, and as the minutes oozed by, the temptation to storm in and see how she was grew.
He couldn't believe he had allowed this to happen to her. He should have never let her get out of the car. Then, they could have gone back and nothing would have happened, and he would have remained in blissful ignorance of his own feelings for at least a while longer. But now, here he was, facing the loss of his job and his own love of a woman he could never have. And that woman was lying on a couch bleeding from the head because he couldn't save her.
Then, after what seemed like hours, she came out, leaning on Crawley, and wearing Lady Mary's coat. The way she looked at Crawley made his heart ache. Of course, she would prefer him. He was rich, he was one of them. How could he have been so stupid as to let himself feel these things. As he opened the door for them and waited for Lady Mary, he remembered what his ma had said to him and his brother, when they were fighting over the affections of a girl,
"You can't have her," Seamus had said, "I saw her first and now you just want to take her away from me!"
"Don't be an idiot, she likes me, and I'll have her if I want her."
"Why do you always have to have everything, Tom. Why can't I ever get what I want?"
"Boys, stop this at once. Tommy, you can't take her just because you don't want Seamus to have her. Matters of the heart are hard things to bear, and when you feel genuinely for someone, you will understand how your brother feels."
As he opened the door for Lady Mary, he remembered how he had always thought that he would never feel "genuinely" for a girl. He had too much of a temper, and cared more for his books and his politics than for women. But when he met, really met, Sybil, he had felt something genuine, though he had not recognized it for what it was until then. So, he supposed whether or not she married Crawley or some other lord or count, he would always feel something genuine for her, even if she never knew.
He drove to Downton more slowly than usual, so as not to jostle her too much, and kept looking over his shoulder to make sure she was all right. Crawley and Lady Mary were both fussing over her, and she looked extraordinarily tired, but the cut on her head did not look too bad. He had gotten worse when he and his brother had gotten in particularly nasty fights.
He pulled up to Downton, and jumped out of the car to hold the door open for them. Crawley and Sybil went into the house, and Lady Mary was about to follow when he asked,
"She's not badly hurt, is she?"
Mary turned around, looking surprised that he would even ask and said, with the same formed tone to give nothing away as all of her kind,
"I don't think so, no."
He nodded, trying not to let the utter relief show on his face. He had said too much in front of Crawley, let his emotions get the better of him, and he was not keen to let it happen again.
"Thank God," he said, thinking even as he said it that it would arouse suspicion, but he didn't really care.
Lady Mary looked at him strangely and said,
"Better be prepared. I'm afraid Lord Grantham will hit the roof."
He knew what she was implying, that it was his idea to take her to the count, and even though he had taken the blame for her, he wanted someone to know that he had not known where they were going.
"I never would of taken her there. I may be a Socialist, but I'm not a lunatic."
"I'm not sure Papa knows the difference," she said with a small smile.
He nodded, unable to say anything else. Yet, before he could stop himself he said,
"You'll let me know how she gets on?"
He saw the surprise on her face again, coupled with suspicion, but he thought that he had already done enough damage today, why not do a little more?
She said nothing, so he added,
"Please."
She nodded and said, as though resigning herself,
"If you wish."
She went into the house, leaving him alone with all his thoughts and worries. He turned back to the car to park it. He tried to keep his hands from shaking. He wasn't sure he could face the servants' hall tonight, he wasn't hungry anyway. He didn't want to hear all the questions, all the poking and prodding, and the asking if it was his idea to take her there. He put the car in the garage, made sure everything was in place, and then went straight to his little cottage. He sat down on the bed, his head buzzing with the events of the day. He suddenly wished he could talk to his mother. She would have known what to do, about all of it. She had split up so many fights between him and his brother that she could surely sort out something as simple as this. Maybe he should write to her. But how would that letter go?
"Dear Ma,
When I took the daughter of my employer to the count today, she was injured in a fight and I realized I'm in love with her.
Love
Tom"
Maybe he shouldn't write, it would only worry her. No, it was better if he didn't. He wouldn't tell anyone. Not even Seamus. He would keep it to himself, and himself only.
But he found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't think about anything other than the events of the night. He sat up, sitting on his bed, still in his livery, unable to do anything else. Finally, giving in, he decided to write to his brother. At least he could get it out of his system by telling someone. He picked up pen and paper and wrote his letter. He told his brother everything, from the beginning, and told him his fear of what he was feeling, and how he would skin him alive if he told anyone, including their mother. Seamus might be an annoying younger brother, but he would never betray Tom's confidence. It was nearly two in the morning when he finished the letter, and when he did, he was suddenly so tired that he almost lay down and fell asleep immediately. But he took off his livery, put on pajamas and collapsed on the bed, and was immediately asleep.
He woke up several hours later, feeling unrested. He had dreamed about her again, of course, but he had dreamed that she blamed him for the whole incident, and that Lord Grantham had come to him and fired him straight away.
He went into the servants' hall for breakfast. They all looked at him as he came in, but he sat down in his usual place and tried to avoid everyone's gaze. He hardly noticed what he was eating, and planned to escape the wretched room as soon as he could, but before he could execute his plan, Anna took him to one side and said,
"Mr. Branson, I need to talk to you."
He looked at her, sure she was going to ask him something about the previous night, but she took him by surprise and said,
"I didn't know if you knew, but Lady Sybil fought Lord Grantham to keep you here. She said she would run away of you were missing this morning. He was ready to throw you out last night."
He felt a swell of happiness rise in him. She had stood up for him! But what did that mean? Did it mean that she felt something as well? Or was he reading too much into it? How did Anna even find out? Why was she telling him this? Could she know? Was he being that obvious?
"Lady Mary thought you'd like to know," she continued, as though reading his thoughts, "She also said that Dr. Clarkson said that Lady Sybil would be just fine."
More relief surged through him so he was almost giddy. He wished he could go and see her. He wished that he could go upstairs and check on her, but he also knew that Lady Mary now had some inkling of how he felt for her sister, because she had Anna telling him this.
"Thank you," he said, unable to think of anything else to say.
He walked away, telling himself that he needed to be more careful in future. He couldn't have to whole house suspect that he was in love with Lady Sybil Crawley.