Chapter 4
August 20th 1914
Sybil's POV
It was at dinner last night when Papa had announced that he would be leaving for a few weeks, in order to train the new recruits. He had received the letter that morning from his old friend at a near by camp. Apparently the number of applicants had exceeded there expectations, and so they were in need of some more experienced ex-officers to instruct the new ones, and so they had offered a position to him.
I had never got the impression that Papa liked being in the war, then again I never thought he disliked it. In fact he had never talked about the war before. Never the less he seemed quite exited by the prospect of returning to his old position. Mama didn't like it of course, she had put on a forced smile when he told us. I doubt Papa noticed though, as he was to enthralled by explaining the details of the position at the time.
I don't think it was the idea of Papa being near things related to the war that made Mama anxious, but rather the fact that he would be away for weeks. The longest time they have spent apart in there married lives has been a matter of days. I tried to convince her this morning, after breakfast, to persuade him not to go if she felt that strongly against it. But she wouldn't hear any of it.
"If it makes him happy," she had said, "who am I to refuse him of that?"
"You're his wife," I argued, "the mother of his daughters. He should consider you and your feelings in his decisions before he makes them." she laughed, which surprised me.
"You've been reading too many feminist pamphlets, my dear." she said lovingly, but with a touch of a scornful look in her eyes when they met mine. "Your father doesn't need to include me in his decisions, I would support him what ever he chooses if it makes him happy." she had got up to leave, and was nearly at the door before I asked:
"Why?" she turned and gave me a small smile.
"It's like you said before Sybil darling, I am his wife. It's my job to make sure he is happy." and with that she had left the room.
Granny also had a announcement for us this afternoon. Her good friend Countess Adelaide Gray, her daughter and two youngest sons would be arriving in a matter of days; they would be staying with her for a few weeks possibly as the Countess' husband, who was one of Papa's old war contacts, was needed in Hull with "war related issues" as Granny put it.
Along with this news, she had arrived with three huge baskets of black wool and declared that, Mary, Edith and myself were to knit garments for the soldiers. We decided on socks, hats and scarves and took a basket each. I had never been one for knitting, or any kind of embroidery for that matter, and my first attempt at a sock, closely resembled what I imagined a mutilated slug would look like. Eventually Edith took pity on me and educated me in the correct way to cast on, and off and take out the last stitch. All the while muttering:
"You'll have to learn. No self respecting man wants to marry a woman who can't even knit a sock." to which I replied:
"If he only wants to marry me based upon the fact of whether or not I can knit a sock, then I'd rather not marry him at all." at that point a small laugh came from Mary's corner. Edith whipped around to face in Mary's direction.
"Something amusing you?" she snapped coldly.
"Oh no, not at all." Mary said, her hand to her mouth, holding back another burst of laughter. Edith turned back to me.
"You shouldn't think like that Sybil." she said sternly, "Sir Anthony says that he highly values a woman's ability in embroidery, as do many of his friends. It's an important skill to have if you're expecting on ever getting married." Another laugh from the corner. Edith was staring daggers at Mary when she faced her again.
"What is it now Mary?" she hissed at our eldest sister.
"Nothing, just the fact that you think the skill of embroidery so much in a marriage, and yet out of the three of us, I'm the only one to receive a marriage proposal. And, as you both know, my embroidery skills are almost nonexistant. It amuses me that's all." she said all this in the mocking, sarcastic tone, she had taken up recently whenever she talked to Edith. Who didn't take the comment well.
"As we both know, I would have been engaged right now if it wasn't for you scaring him away."
"Well it didn't take much." laughed Mary, "He couldn't get away fast enough." Edith looked ready to breath fire and opened her thin lips to snap back. But instead they formed a small sneer, which crept into the corner of her mouth, I knew well enough that when it appeared, nothing good would come of it.
"I suppose you would have become accustom to scaring off men, cousin Matthew couldn't wait to get away." she continued.
I had only just managed to gather up my basket and make my way to the door before Mary retaliated.
"That was not my fault! if Mama hadn't got pregnant then I wouldn't of had to consider the possibility that-" I closed the door and let out a sigh before walking away.
And that was how I came to be in my room for the next one hour, two, three maybe, I couldn't tell the knitting was tedious and time pasted so slowly.
I desperately wanted to see Branson, but he had been extremely busy all day, what with Granny coming and going and Mama journeying into town to pick out multiple unnecessary table cloths and other things that would probably never be used, as she always did when guests were coming.
I sat in a chair nearest to the window, I hadn't bothered to turn on my lights, the moon was out and it bathed my room in a silver blanket. I was so high up, I could barely hear the owl that occupied the large oak in the grounds, or the sounds of the front door being opened. The only way I was able to tell if someone left or entered the house was by the bar of light that flooded the yard when the door opened, it caught my attention every time.
I was attempting to cast on my new line of wool, and had been for at least ten minutes, when a new light caught my attention. Two bars of light crept on to the yard from the side of the house, they kept moving. Eventually they came to a stop directly outside the front door. I gazed at the source and my heart skipped when I saw the unmistakable outline of Branson getting out of the car.
I got up quickly, my knitting needles fell to the floor with a clatter. I started to try and open the window but the latch was stubbornly, refusing to move. After a few more attempts I gave up and instead resorted to hitting the glass, as hard as I dared, with a curled up fist. It was no use, he couldn't hear me, not over that blasted engine.
I rapidly considered my options and concluded that my best option was to run down to him myself, and pray to god Papa or Mama doesn't see me running through the house in a most unladylike fashion. I charged out of my room, the bang of the door echoing down the corridor. I had made it down to flights of stairs and had run into no one so far, I could feel my hair slipping more and more out of place with every step. I came to the end of the third flight and turned the corner only to be greeted by the sight of Papa coming out of a near by room. I tried to slow to a more respectable speed but it was no use, he had seen.
"Sybil?"
"Papa?" I faked a surprised tone through heavy breaths, whilst trying to force my hair into it's once neat arrangement, to no avail. "What are you doing here?"
"I was just leaving my room." he replied walking to meet me, a confused expression on his face.
"Oh yes, of course." I had been in such a rush I had lost track of where I was. I could feel the red flush rising through my face.
"In fact I need to talk to you and your sisters, would you mind going down to the library, I'll be there in just a minute."
I nodded and walked down the rest of the corridor. Frustratingly, none of the windows on this side of the house looked out onto the yard, so I had no way of knowing if Branson was still there.
When I was sure I was out of Papa's sight I started running again, although, not as fast as the last time. I saw through on of the windows the beams of light from the car lights and quickened my step.
I soon made it down to the main hall, Mama was already down, she was stood by the front door, it looked as though she had just seen someone off. Sure enough, looking behind her, I saw cousin Isobel being helped into the car by Branson. I couldn't help it, whenever I saw someone's hand in his I thought, once again, of the time when he took my hand in his, and how it made me feel warmer then the sun did that day.
"Sybil?"
The call of my name dragged me away from the warm, sunny, garden party and brought me back to the cool, dimly lit, entrance hall.
"Sybil darling?" it was Mama calling me from the door of Papa's library. "You were miles away, what were you thinking of?" she said with a smile as I approached her.
"Nothing. I'm just tired and drifted away somewhere." I noticed that I had a huge smile on my face and tried to hide it quickly.
"Where did you go?" she asked as we both entered the library, a smile on her face now.
"Somewhere sunny." I said, in what I hoped would be a nonchalant voice, making my way to the front window to see the car lights disappear.
At that moment we were joined by Mary and Edith. Although I barely noticed them come in.
In my mind, I had gone with the car lights.
With Branson.
All I could vaguely hear was a monotone muffling of their conversation, which I was about to be dragged into by, yet again, the call of my name.
"Sybil…Sybil…Sybil!" I fought with my neck to pull my head from the window and look at my mother and sisters. By the look of their faces both Mary and Edith had been calling me, Mama however just looked at me, her eyebrow raise and the small smile was back.
"Back in your sunny place, were you?" she asked, Mary and Edith both looked at her with equally confused expressions. Before I had a chance to even open my mouth to defend myself, Mary said:
"What to you mean Mama?"
"Your sisters finding it difficult keeping her mind in one place tonight."
Mary and Edith's faces whipped back to me, there expressions now matched Mama's.
This was never a good thing.
"Thinking of women's rights again are you Sybil?"
"Or, perhaps ways of sneaking to the next rally?"
"Or maybe, a particular gentlemen is the cause of this?" teased Mary.
Edith gasped, her hand jumping to her mouth.
"Are you in love Sybil?"
From the little I had experienced of hunting, their reaction was like that of a party who had just cornered a particularly good catch. They started to edge closer, their eyes hungry for confirmation and details. I could only shake my head at them. Thankfully, Papa had chosen this particular moment to join us.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." he said as he entered the room, walking straight for his desk. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" he asked when he looked at us properly since he came in.
"Not at all." I quickly replies before the others had a chance. I could of run over, hugged Papa and never let go, for his perfect timing. "What did you want us for?" I asked as I went to my favourite armchair and collapsed in it.
"Well, as you know, I have accepted the position at the training camp. They have also asked Mr Bates, who has also accepted. Therefore, we shall…"
But that was all I heard. Papa's voice had turned to the monotone muffle in my ears. My mind, instead, was focused on what Edith had asked moments before.
Was I in love with Branson?
There was no deigning the fact that he was one of the most precious people in my life. And I had just stormed throughout the house to see him for a tiny amount of time. Followed him everywhere to make sure he doesn't sign up. Which, looking back, all seem quite drastic.
And then, of course, there were the little things: the fact that my heart races when I see him, mixed with the feeling of my chest tightening at the same time. The warm flush that sweeps my body when he looks into my eyes or takes my hand to help me in and out of the car. The twisty feeling in my stomach when he gives my hand a squeeze.
But then there is the feeling that I get when I think of him being far away. Away from me, where I can't hear the softness of his velvet Irish voice; see his eyes crinkle when I catch his glance in the mirror or the smile that he gives me when he sees me, the one I can't help but return.
It's the feeling that a part of my very soul is missing.
And it hurts.
It took a few seconds before I realised my eyes had tears building up in them. Wiping my eyes I attempted to focus my attention on Papa.
"…Also, cousin Isobel would like me to consider, if necessary, letting some local hospitals use Downton as a emergency unit for soldiers. This would only be if, god forbid, the amount of casualties gets to large for the surrounding hospitals. I have no objections to this, but I am worried about you." he looked at each of us in turn. "I have seen my fair share of injuries, and I would not like my girls to be affected by what you may see. Therefore I have made arrangements with cousin Isobel, for you four to be moved to her residence if it should come down to this." he looked around for our response.
Mama, Mary and Edith all nodded while muttering "Of course."
I however didn't feel the same.
"Papa." everyone turned to look at me. "What if we want to do more to help then just knitting socks, scarves and hats? Can't we help out here if we want to?"
"I admire you're will to help Sybil dear, but I would prefer it if you did stay at cousin Isobel's."
"But Papa-" I protested
"No! There's no discussion on this matter. Your going, and that's the end of it." his tone reminded me of the night I had come back from the count.
Determined to fight my corner I made to speak again. Only to be stopped my Mama's hand on my shoulder, shaking her head.
"Fine!" I declared, getting to my feet. "If that is all? Good night." and I strode out of the library.
I went straight to the chair next to the window, when I came to my room. I had calmed down on my way up, and had started to feel guilty for what I had said to Papa. I would have to apologise tomorrow, at breakfast. I understood why he didn't want us around whilst there were significantly injured men around the house. But it frustrated me how he though all of us were incapable of being around it.
I hadn't been sat there long before the light from the car made there reappearance. I sat upright, my hands pressed against the glass, heart beating furiously against my chest. I watched as Branson drove the car to the front of the house. As he got out I saw that he had an envelope in his hand, and questioned what it might be. But that thought was quickly pushed out by a urge to go to him yet again.
I rose from the chair, and grabbed my coat on the way out.
For the second time that night, I hurried through the house, to see the man that, I now knew,
I loved with all my heart.
~oOo~
Okay I know some of you where expecting her to find out that he had signed up in this chapter so I'm sorry and hope you can forgive me.
Also I would like to appologize for the lack of Branson, I will make up for it in the next chapter!
Thanks to my reviewers-you keep me happy! ^_^ xX Big Hugs Xx
