Sybil woke up to another bright, sunny day with the most enormous smile on her face. But as the weight of what she agreed to enter into dawned on her, she realised that it would be impossible to keep it for very long. What would happen if her family found out after she was married? What would happen if she became pregnant? What would happen if it was a boy? That would change the course of the entire entail! Could she really manage to cope with that burden? Especially if the father of the baby was nothing more than a chauffeur (from her father's perspective). As she arrived at breakfast, she was greeted by the usual food, usual people, usual staff, usual conversation…until she tried to change the subject to her important suffragette meeting in London.
"Papa?"
"Yes dearest Sybil? What seems to be the matter?" He questioned, head in paper and mind on the war.
"You don't suppose…" The tone of her voice turned to that of a child trying to twist their parent's arm.
"What don't I suppose?" He looked up from his paper with a stern expression.
"Would it be possible for me to go to London next weekend? There's an important Suffragette meeting that I absolutely must attend."
"And what sort of activities will this meeting involve? Nothing violent I hope." He looked back at his paper and began reading again, but his mind was fixed on the events of a few years ago when she was injured in a riot.
"No! Nothing like that Papa, it's just an ordinary, boring meeting. That's all." She said in her most innocent of voices.
"And where will you plan to stay?"
"At a hotel in the centre, maybe in Chelsea."
"And where will Branson stay?" Cora's inquisitive voice rang out as she recalled what she saw yesterday.
"I'll book him another room." Sybil wasn't an expert at lying, however when it came to her secret affair with Branson, her dishonesty was almost undetectable.
"I see no reason why not. Branson will keep you safe if anything dangerous happens I'm sure." His face rose out of the paper with a trustworthy smile as he looked at his daughter. Sybil also smiled at the thought. Her eyes glinting. It was a good thing everyone else was too engrossed in their paper or food to notice it.
When she bumped into Branson walking into the main house later in the afternoon, she pulled him over to one corner and whispered with enthusiasm,
"Next weekend!"
"Next weekend what Sybil?"
"Next weekend you'll pick me up at the front at ten o'clock, bags packed and ready to go to Gretna Green!"
"Has your father agreed to let you go with me?" He didn't want to keep too many secrets from his Lordship, for fear of losing his all important job.
"I told him there was an important suffragette meeting in London. He said that you would protect me if any trouble arose. I think he's beginning to trust you!" She smiled.
He laughed, "Next weekend! Then it's set, man and wife next weekend!" He smiled as they parted.