Driving Back
They had just cleared the grounds of Downton when the three men broke out a bottle of Irish whiskey and started passing it around.
"Driver," said the one with the French accent. The name on his uniform read Cyr. "What's your name anyway?"
"Branson, Sir."
"Branson, you know anywhere where we can get some pussy?" he said with a French accent.
"Not ugly pussy either," the one they called Charles said with a loud laugh. "What about you Bill? Did you get any? Did she use her spurs when we were riding?"
"Piss Off," Bill shot back with a scowl. "And don't talk about my girl like that."
"What's the matter? Didn't she show you her fur pie?" Renee Cyr asked joining in the taunting.
"She's my fiancée. One more word and I'll hit you so hard you won't wake up until next week."
"OK! OK!" Renee said. He had already downed a third of a bottle of whiskey and was getting boisterous. "Just get that driver to take us somewhere with hot women. That oldest sister was a BITCH."
"Branson, you know anywhere?" Bill asked.
"Yes, Sir," Branson replied. It wasn't the first such request he had from guests he had drove back and forth since he had been at Downton. They generally were a little more reserved in their requests but at least from what he had overheard none of them had made a play for Sybil. Sybil had been occupied all weekend with her family. They hadn't had one minute to themselves even when she left as her father had taken the train with her. Other than a quick squeeze of the hand when he helped her out of the car, he would have to wait until her next term break in October.
"Are they pretty?" Charles demanded. "I don't want to go anywhere you have to put a bag over their head!"
"I wouldn't know, Sir."
"Your not one of them are you?" Renee demanded. He was getting more intoxicated by the minute. "One of those boys who doesn't like girls?"
"I have a sweetheart, Sir."
"Boring like him ever since he met that toff girl," Charles said cocking his thumb at Bill.
"You better hurry up and get them there," Bill said.
Tom tromped on the gas a little harder to urge the Renault up to top speed. After twenty minutes he pulled up in front of a house with an attractive rose garden in front.
"They call this place the rose garden," Tom said. "You should be able to find what you want in there."
The two men jumped out of the car and headed to the door.
"You've got two hours," Bill called after them. He turned back to Branson. "Let's go for a drink. There has to be a pub around here somewhere."
Tom drove to the nearest pub and killed the motor. Bill hopped out of the car and waited for him.
"Aren't you coming in?"
"I shouldn't, Sir. It isn't my place."
"Oh screw that, I'm not some limey prick that's going to blab to your employer. I actually work for my living. I hate to drink alone."
Tom got down from the car, left his hat and gloves on the seat and accompanied Bill inside. They chose a table near the window so Tom could keep an eye on the car. Bill went and got two pints at the bar and took a long drink before he dropped himself into his chair.
"So how long have you been going out with the youngest one?"
Tom blanched at the man's words. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You look like a sick calf every time she walks by. She isn't much better. You said she was spoken for and yet there was no beau in evidence. It's obvious."
"What do you want?" Tom said eyeing him suspiciously.
"Nothing, just a little information. I asked Edith to marry me. She's accepted. I thought I would get to know her younger sister's boyfriend. That's all."
"No one knows. We haven't told a soul. We're planning on getting married in November," Tom finally confessed.
"So what's our future father-in-law like? I have to talk to him next time I see him. Edith just said he's difficult."
"Proud, a product of his class but decent. You shouldn't have any problems. Myself on the other hand will be an entirely different matter."
"You should think about living in Canada," Bill said. "Nobody there really gives a damn about all the titles and the rest of it. Not many women to speak of though. There are at least twenty men to every single woman. Why aren't you a soldier? Not many left around here who aren't."
"I'm not English for one thing and I have no desire to be part of the British army. I'll wait for conscription."
"Fair enough. That older one really is a bitch."
Tom just chuckled at his statement. "How did you learn to fly?" he asked finally.
"I had a kite back home. Got one soon as they came out for checking on crops. My family owns a lot of land. It's easier and faster to check on it from the air. Can't say I'm too fond of the Sopwith Camel though. It's harder to fly. My old kite was more fun."
Tom found himself relaxing a bit in Bill's presence. The men talked about cars and the latest innovations in machinery before it was time to pick up the other two fliers.
"I won't tell Edith about you and her sister," Bill said. "I take it she doesn't know?"
"I'd appreciate that."
It was six o'clock in the evening by the time Tom had the men dropped off and was back at Downton.
"Where have you been?" Mr. Carson demanded as soon as Tom came into the servants' hall.
"The men requested a detour, Mr. Carson. It took longer than expected."
"What was the nature of the detour?"
"I'd rather not say." Tom colored profusely when the maids in the servants' hall turned their eyes on him while everyone waited for his answer.
"Whatever it was, you can say it in front of the staff," Mr. Carson said.
Tom wondered how the man could be so thick. Was he old enough that he forgot what it was like to be in his twenties.
"I took them to see some English roses. They are men after all," he finally said. Everyone in the servant's hall started to giggle. One of the younger men at the far end of the table was choking on his tea.
"Yes, well, humpf," Mr. Carson said finally understanding. Even Mrs. Hughes had her napkin pressed to her forehead and was using it to wipe the tears of laughter from her eyes. Daisy was standing in the doorway with a puzzled look on her face.
"What's so funny about going to see some flowers?" Daisy questioned.
The room erupted into a loud chorus of laughter with Daisy still standing by the door wearing a puzzled expression. Tom turned around and headed out the door. He would make do with whatever he had in the cupboards at his cottage. If anyone wanted him they could bloody well come and find him for the rest of the evening. He'd had enough.
The first week in September Edith's beau made a solo trip to Downton to speak to Edith's father. He flew in, circled the house, landed and proceeded to taxi the plane up to the front of the house. Edith ran out to meet him and threw her arms around his neck as soon as he jumped down.
"I have so much to tell you," she said with excitement. "I've been out with the estate manager every day and I even drove the tractor. I've got all sorts of ideas already."
"Do you now? I've got a few ideas of my own," he said as he held her close. "They don't concern farming though."
He laughed when Edith blushed.
"How long can you stay?" Edith asked.
"Two days."
They headed in the house and ran into Lord Grantham who had been headed to the front door to see the airplane parked on his front lawn.
"I'll just go arrange a room for Bill while you two have a chat," she hinted.
Her beau gave her a rueful grin as she headed off to find Mrs. Hughes. Lord Grantham invited him into the library and offered Bill a drink. Bill was looking somewhat nervous. He declined the offer of a drink and was shifting form foot to foot uncomfortably. He was still wearing his flying gear and finally snatched his helmet off his head. He smoothed down his hair and finally managed to speak.
"Lord Grantham, I wanted to ask your permission. Well, that is I want to say. Well."
"Out with it man."
"I want to marry Lady Edith. I'm from a good family. She'll be well provided for. I would like your blessing."
Lord Grantham set his glass on a side table and went to look out the window. He thought for a moment before he turned back.
"I've heard about the reputation of fliers. I expect you to be faithful to my daughter and not running around behind her back. If you mistreat her in anyway, I will seek you out and make you regret the day you were born."
"I intend to treat her properly, Sir. I won't dishonor her. She's very important to me."
"You do realize you'll need your Commanding Officer's permission. There is no certainty in war and for God's sake be careful flying that contraption."
"I know that only too well," Bill replied with a very serious expression on his face.
"I'll give my permission on one condition."
"What's that, Sir?"
"You stop chewing up my lawn with that machine. It's going to take my Gardner weeks to fix the mess you've made."
"That can be arranged," he said as he stepped forward to shake Lord Grantham's hand.
Edith came back accompanied by her mother. Lord Grantham congratulated them both again and rang for some champagne. Mary was in London as was Sybil so it was only the four of them at the house for the next two days. Edith had arranged for Bill to stay in the Red Bedroom. It was the furthest of the guest rooms from her parent's room and would afford them some privacy if she decided to make a late night visit. She knew she was supposed to remain chaste and pure for her wedding night, but all she could think about when she looked at her fiancée was exploring more of what lay under his uniform. Her thoughts made her blush. When he looked at her when the champagne was delivered she suspected his thoughts were running along the same lines.
"We'll have to have your grandmother for dinner tonight," Lady Cora said. "She'll want to be first in on the news."
"Oh Mama, must we?" Edith complained. She turned to Bill. "Granny can be a might fractious at times."
"I think I can weather the storm," he said with a grin.
"More like a monsoon when it comes to my mother," Lord Grantham muttered.
"So this is Edith's colonial," said the Dowager Countess when she arrived for dinner that evening. "He certainly is younger and better looking than Anthony Strallen."
"Oh Granny," Edith groaned.
"Is that contraption on the lawn yours young man?"
"I arrived in it, if that is what you mean. Technically it's property of the Royal Flying Corps."
"Robert, the mess on your lawn will never do. Your father would never have stood for such a thing. You had best see to it immediately before you have guests that matter."
Edith and Bill lagged behind as the others made their way to the dining room. He was laughing so hard Edith had to cover his mouth with her hand.
"Shhhh, they'll hear you," Edith admonished. She was trying not to laugh herself.
"Just who is Anthony Strallen?" he inquired with a grin.
"I'll tell you later," she said. "In private."
"Promise? I like the sound of in private later," he whispered in her ear.
"What are you two whispering about?" her grandmother demanded with a sly smile. "Edith were you out on the farm again without your hat? Your face is much too red. You're going to ruin your complexion with all your gadding about in motor cars."
"When were you thinking of getting married?" Lady Cora tactfully changed the subject.
"Around December," Bill said. "I should be back from France sometime around then. I'm afraid I can't be more precise."
"So soon," said the Dowager Countess.
"There is a war on Granny," Edith said. "Why should we delay?"
"It just isn't done, Edith. Think of our friends that have to be invited."
"No Granny, most of their son's are in the war too. They will understand. We don't want to wait."
"What's next?" the Dowager Countess demanded. "Is one of your sister's going to walk through the door and inform us that she is already married? You girls are entirely too modern for me."
Edith looked at her plate hesitating in her response.
Edith's fiancé took her hand. "Modern suits me just fine. I would marry Edith tonight if I could."
The Dowager Countess opened her mouth to say something and closed it again. This was one fly she wasn't going to let out of the trap. If this young man wanted Edith that much then best get her married before he could change his mind.