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It was past noon and Mrs Hughes, unknowing to the night's events, wondered what on earth was going on. She noticed Anna, leant up against the wall, yawning and rubbing her tired eyes.
"Anna," she called. She jumped, mumbling apologies and getting back to her work. Mrs Hughes shook her head and spoke softly,
"Where is everyone? How come they aren't awake?"
Anna frowned and then smiled, putting down her bucket and mop and taking her hand,
"Come on," she said, pulling her up the stairs. "You need to see this," Anna knocked on the bedroom door quietly; hearing groans and harsh words coming from the other side.
"Come in!" Tom's rough voice rang and she guiltily opened the door. They tentively stepped through, seeing Sybil asleep on the bed and Tom in the armchair. He was still wearing the dinner clothes from yesterday and he had deep bluish rings under his eyes. His hair was messed and his face slightly red from lack of sleep.
Mrs Hughes frowned, about to speak.
"Shh!" he warned, pointing at Sybil. Anna nodded and whispered, "Mrs Hughes wanted to know what was going on,"
Tom smiled and walked over to the crib, gently picking up his son to show Mrs Hughes. She gasped at the tiny baby, looking between Anna, Tom and Sybil.
"She had the baby? Why didn't anybody tell me this!" she sighed loudly.
"Shh!" Tom and Anna snapped, the baby cooing and groaning a little. His face scrunched up and his hands started to wave about; he was going to cry. Tom then began rocking him, sitting back in the chair to sooth him.
"Anna, where do you keep the clean sheets?" Tom whispered. "We'll want to change them as they're still from last night,"
Anna turned, looking in disbelief. Usually she would have to change the sheets; she's never had anyone ask her for their whereabouts so to change those themselves.
"They're in the linen closet but I can get them; you have your hands full anyhow. We've been told by her ladyship to help you two through anything you ask."
Tom nodded but frowned, "I don't want to put you out. No doubt you're tired from last night." He yawned on cue and laughed. "And so am I it seems,"
Mrs Hughes looked at the doting new father and smiled, "Well, you better get your strength up because no doubt the whole family will want to meet…"
"Him. A boy," Tom rectified.
"Well, the whole family will want to meet him. Hopefully he's well rested too. A lot of being passed around, I see."
"Yes, he will," Sybil spoke, smiling as she pulled herself up from the bed. Anna hurried over, helping her stand and said good morning.
"Hello, dear," she said happily, walking over to Tom and their son, kissing each on the forehead.
"Hi, did you sleep well?" he asked softly, making Mrs Hughes and Anna each turn away blushing in embarrassment for witnessing this tender moment.
"Yes, it was fine. I ache all over though."
Anna turned back then to see the baby in Sybil's arm and Tom stroking her back.
"I could draw you a bath, if you'd like." She asked. Sybil smiled and nodded.
"That would be wonderful, thank you Anna,"
Mrs Hughes nodded in approval; she could see how much the youngest daughter had changed, for the better too. She always thought that Sybil was the odd one out of the three girls.
As a baby she was observant, always looking around and picking up new things that she had never seen before, like the silverware and Isis, and pat, poke and play with it until she understood how it worked.
As a child, she would always cause mischief, doing little practical jokes that would make the guests laugh but make her parents and her sisters scorn her as she wasn't as controlled as them.
As she got older, her curiosity turned into pure interest and turned it to politics. She would always argue with her father or her grandmother over silly things, like the views in the world and society. Yes, society was a popular topic that she and her father fought about. One particular story that she was told about made the whole house realise that Sybil had different ideas on the world.
Walking through London, thirteen year old Sybil held her mothers hand, watching as seventeen year old Mary and another boy her age walked ahead, laughing and talking. Her father was behind her, talking to Edith and her Aunt Rosamond. She sighed, looking for anything to distract her attention. A man walked past them then; his clothes were slightly scruffy and he had a tattered suitcase.
She observed how different he was, Papa never owned clothing like that; his were rather nice. She looked across the road to see a woman sat on the floor, her clothes even tattier than his, holding out her hands. She was a beggar.
"Mama? Why is it that the rich don't help the poor? Surely they would benefit and we would still be alright."
Lady Grantham looked down on her daughter in shock, then looking back to Robert for support. He wasn't listening so she had to deal with this herself.
"Politics isn't my forte darling, you should ask your father," she dismissed.
So Sybil did. She turned and asked her papa the sane question, her eyes wide, inquisitive but demanding.
He frowned, pulling her behind the others so they could have a private talk.
"Dear, they can get jobs from employers. There are plenty of them and that's how they get money."
"But what about the people who don't have a job. Who helps them? Surely we should."
"No, Sybil. It's not our place. Besides there are systems in place for them to seek help from, those who don't use it are fools."
She shook her head defiantly. She pushed her hand inside her pocket, pulling out what little change she had, and walked up to the beggar woman, giving it to her.
"Sybil!" her father shouted, enraged by her actions.
"See? I helped and I don't see the sky falling Papa!" she shouted back. "It's wrong that we don't help them,"
Robert stalked over to her, pulling on her arm, "Will you hold your tongue?" he hissed. She scowled at him, pulling her arm away, stomping back toward her family.
This story was talked about for years…until Sybil became interested in women's rights and cracked her head on table in Ripon in a fight, making her bleed. Mrs Hughes brought her mind back to the present, focusing on what was being said around her.
She could hear water running and Anna and Tom, in combined efforts, changing the bed. She concluded that Anna had it all under control and left, catching up the days duties.
Mary heard the grandfather clock chiming only once and realised how late it was in the day. She stretched, her hand coming into contact with something.
"Ow!" a voice groaned. She had just hit Matthew in the head whilst stretching. She giggled, rubbing the spot where she unintentionally smacked him.
"Sorry," she kissed his forehead; he smiled fondly back. "I heard the clock chime 1 so I think its time to get up. Else we won't sleep tonight."
Matthew nodded, stretching also and yawning, waking his aching muscles from their short slumber.
"How are you this morning?" he asked. She sighed, flopping back onto her pillow.
She hissed as pins dug into her head. She still had her hair in place from dinner last night. In fact, she was still in the dress she was wearing. There was just no time to change and they were all exhausted.
"Drained. God knows how Sybil feels. I can't believe I didn't change. I feel awful," she groaned and Matthew chuckled. He went to bed slightly earlier than his wife- he smiled at the thought, Mary was finally his wife and he exulted in his mind- so he had time to change.
He heard Mary coming at 4 this morning, a sleepy smile on her face. He knew that Sybil had finally given birth.
"What did they have?" he asked. Mary frowned until it clicked in her head that he was talking about the baby.
"Oh, a boy," she smiled. "By the way, Papa wants to see us in the library soon. He asked me to tell you last night, well, this morning."
Matthew nodded, getting up slowly from the bed to look out the window. He saw the car pull up, revealing Violet and Lady Rosamond. Matthew chuckled.
"Well, the reception party's here. I think we'd better get dressed, dear."
He felt Mary come up behind him and peer over his shoulder out the window. She tutted and laughed, ringing the bell for Anna, hopefully, to come upstairs.
"Miss O'Brien, can you go upstairs and help Lady Mary please? Anna is with the Branson's."
Miss O'Brien dropped her fork, not even taking a bite to eat and tutted.
"Is she joking?" She grumbled to herself. The bell rang again and she threw down her napkin and ignoring the stifled laughs coming from Bates and Mrs Hughes.
Anna ran down the stairs toward the servant's hall, passing Miss O'Brien who gave her a very disgruntled look, and quickly grabbed something to eat.
"Are you alright, Anna?" Carson asked. She nodded, a little frazzled. She turned to face them and Mrs Hughes sighed,
"Anna, go to bed, you, like the Branson's have been up the best part of the night. You'll be no good to us later on in the day,"
Anna sat, patting her husband's hand in hello before speaking,
"No, I need to stay up. I said that I would help them, and they're not taking advantage, in fact they've told me plenty to go to bed but with Sybil still being on bed rest, they need help,"
Mr Carson piped up then, looking at Anna sympathetically.
"Anna, with most of the family now awake I'm sure that they'll be able to find help elsewhere. Now, I'll tell her ladyship that I've given you the rest of the day and night off, now please, got to bed,"
Anna sighed, secretly thanking Mr Carson in her head for giving her the time to rest and slowly, to keep up her begrudging attitude, walked outside, toward hers and Bates cottage.
"Anna, wait!" her husband called and she smiled. She turned and waited for him, taking his hand when he reached her.
"Mr Carson told me to help you home, couldn't have you sleeping on the side of the road." He joked and she giggled slightly, her tiredness creeping.
"How are they?" he asked. He had heard Anna get up during the night, not coming back until the early hours of the morning. She sounded very worried first going out; he also heard worried voices. When she returned, she was groaning, not bothering to sleep as she would have to be up again in 2 hours.
"They're fine; such a beautiful baby," she smiled. She leant her head on his shoulder, letting her eyes loll slightly.
"I heard they had a boy, good for them," John stated. "Though…" he trailed off, lost in his thoughts.
"What? What's wrong with them having a boy?" Anna asked, stopping their walk. She could see that John was hiding something but she didn't know what. She asked him again but he said nothing. Just coughed and looked sheepish.
"John," she warned with conviction. He sighed, and told her his secret.
"What did you want, Papa? We're here," Marry announced as she and Matthew walked into the library to meet Lord Grantham. He was sat at his desk, signing something as a man sat waiting.
"You remember Mr George Murray, my lawyer, don't you Mary?" he asked, nodding toward the man. He stood, shaking Matthews hand and then Mary's.
"Well of course, though I can't think as to inquire why he's here," she smiled, sitting down. Matthew took Mary's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Whatever this was, it couldn't be good.
"Well, I am here on business, and it involves you two, milady," he said, clarifying for her. Mary and Matthew exchanged a wary look, Mary sharing it with her father and silently asking what was wrong.
"Oh right, well, tell us, what business are you here for?"
Mr Murray coughed uneasily, taking out some papers and what looked like wills. He looked up, nodding and the door to the library opened, the Dowager Countess walking in.
"Oh what is all this nonsense about business." She complained to the lawyer and her son. The newlyweds tried to stile their laughs, but were silenced by Lord Grantham. "Robert, you know as well as I that I am not as young as I used to be; I would very much like to see my great grandchild, if that is well with you!"
Robert looked very uncomfortable; his mother's wrath wasn't something to be reckoned with. He saw it in his daughter's too so he's never been able to win a fight.
"Of course Mama, but you need to hear this." Robert gestured to the chaise lounge for her to sit.
She grumbled, sitting next to Mary and impatiently waiting for Mr Murray to begin.
"As you know, the next heir is determined through the direct bloodline through your father Lady Mary which ultimately leads to Matthew."
Violet sighed, thinking that her time was being wasted. Matthew and Mary tried to listen but their minds were elsewhere.
"What different then? I can see it coming," Mary asked bluntly.
"Yes, of course," Mr Murray said, looking over his papers again before continuing, "However, since your sister had a boy, making him grandson, his line is much closer to his lordships, which I'm afraid means-"
Mary stood, stopping him, "Wait, before you utter one more word, I swear to God," she snatched the papers from the table, reading them over and over.
"Papa! How can this be possible? How can a baby take it all away? What happens if say Edith has a son, or if Sybil has another? What happens then?" She was starting to get hysterical. Matthew stood, guiding Mary to sit back down again but she fought him off, still starting teary eyed at her father.
"I think the man has more to say dear, sit down," the Dowager said, looking at a rather annoyed Mr Murray. His gaze flickered to her son; ah, his annoyance was directed at him. He knew that Mary would over react to something. Mary sighed, sitting down and resting her head on Matthew shoulder.
"This means that, yes, he is the new heir but, there is a but, his parents have to accept this for him, after all he is only a baby. We will review this again in 18 years if you haven't inherited, as he will then be of age and will be able to make the decision for himself. And answers to your earlier questions, he is the first grandson. If they had given birth to a girl and your sister Edith had a boy or if their second child was a boy, he would be the beneficiary. It's just a matter of luck I suppose."
Mary exhaled. She took in all the information and tried to process it. She began to laugh, much to her family's worry. Her laughter became hysterical, not calming much before speaking,
"So, that fate of mine and Matthews's future rests with a baby who isn't even a day old and parents who revel in rebellious antics and political issues! This…is ludicrous!" she laughed. Matthew held her shoulders, trying to calm her down. Her laughter then turned into tears. He rocked her gently; she had had her title and fortune taken and given back to her too many times; once more and he knew that she wouldn't be able to cope anymore.
Robert waited until Mary had calmed a little before speaking,
"Of course, we're not to tell them anything yet-"
"Quite right!" Mary snapped; her expression was enraged. "We shouldn't tell them anything at all!"
Mr Murray hesitantly spoke, saying that it would be illegal for her to withhold this information to the rightful heir. She snorted, bursting into tears again before running out the door. Matthew too felt angry, not at his in laws and his new nephew but at Lord Grantham for bringing this delicate matter up at such a stupid and inappropriate time.
He nodded to the Dowager, ignoring the two men before going after his wife. Violet stood, also turning to leave but her parting words, in an annoyed tone, were,
"Well, that went well didn't it? And perfect time too, if I may say so Robert."
Both men suffered under the Dowagers wrath, shrinking in silence as she left.
"I can't believe it!" Anna exclaimed, pacing as her husband sat at their dinner table. He had told her everything; if Tom and Sybil accept the title for their son, Lady Mary and Matthew won't inherit.
"And his lordship told you this?"
John nodded, looking very guilty. His lordship told him of his plan this morning just before the lawyer arrived. Soon after he found out, he saw Lady Mary was smiling with Matthew, both enjoying the bliss of ignorance.
"Yes, but you can't tell anyone Anna, not even Sybil and Tom-"
"I wish you hadn't told me!" she sighed, exasperated. She flopped down on their sofa, lying down to rest her eyes.
"I'm sorry, you are right, I shouldn't have told you. I guess I'm just a little used to our closeness," he sighed, standing. He should really get back to the house; Carson would be wondering what was keeping him. He looked at the clock. It was mid-afternoon and Lord Grantham would want his suit ironed for dinner tonight.
"Get some rest, you need it. I've got to be getting back." He announced, giving Anna a blanket before leaving. As soon as Anna shut her eyes, she drifted off to sleep.
"How about…Lucas?" Sybil suggested. Tom laughed and she pouted. She turned away from him, hurt at him laughing at what seemed a perfectly nice name.
"Sorry! I wasn't laughing at the name. I had a friend called Lucas and he's done a lot of stupid things in his life. It made me think of him and I laughed."
She scowled, thinning her eyes and giving her husband a look. She didn't know whether to believe him. All the names that they've tried to come up with were a disaster. She looked back at the boy in her arms, wide awake and moving. His hair was becoming thicker, like Sybil's, and darker. His eyes were inquisitive, always looking around and watching.
She noticed little things about him; how his fists would clench and open when he wanted something, usually Tom. When his adorable face scrunched up impossibly tight it meant that he was going to cry. When he started chewing on air, it meant that he was hungry. There were lots that she'd noticed.
A knock came at the door and her sisters came in, big smiles on their faces. Sybil looked at Mary much closer; she had red rings around her eyes and her breathing was slightly laboured. She had been crying. Lady Grantham was behind them, ushering them in also with a large smile on her face.
"Hello dears how are you today?" she asked. Sybil smiled fondly and Tom stood, putting his hands in his pockets, thoroughly at ease. The two sisters came closer, sitting next to and by Sybil, looking over at the baby. Cora patted Tom's arm, still smiling. She waited until the girls moved away to fawn over the baby; she let them have their moment.
"Do you have a name yet?" Edith asked, holding her arms out to take the baby. Sybil gave him to her gladly, her hands free to pull Tom down to sit next to her on the bed.
"No," Sybil pouted glumly. "Any name I suggest, Tom laughs at,"
Tom stared wide eyed, "I do not!" he whined like a small child blamed for the crime. He scoffed a little, winking slyly at his wife, telling her to play along. She giggled, kissing his cheek.
"We have some names," Mary suggested. All the women looked sheepish, giving sly loos to one another. Tom sighed, smiling.
"Go ahead."
"Well, there's Patrick, after Cousin Patrick-" Edith started.
"And it's an Irish name so that's a bonus." Mary interjected, looking at Tom with a wry smile.
Tom sneered a laugh at the un-funny joke, making Sybil and Lady Grantham giggle. Edith exhaled, waiting for Mary to step back from the spot light for one moment.
"There's Daniel but I don't really like that one."
"Why?" Sybil asked.
"She just doesn't like the name," Cora sighed. She moved over to Edith, stroking the baby's cheek and cooing over him.
He began to fuss, making little squeaking noises and sure enough, his face scrunched up and he let out a loud wail, making all the grown ups wince and coo.
"Sounds like little lad doesn't like the name either," Tom smiled, taking him from a very smug Edith. Mary rolled her eyes and sighed. Cora tried to stifle a giggle. He rocked his son, smiling widely whenever his small eyes looked up at him.
"I came up with Eth-"
"David," Sybil's voice ruled, cutting off Mary and making Tom give her a grave look.
He sat on the bed slowly, sadness coming over him. He never thought of naming his son after his brother but he guessed it was because his nephew was already named after him. Tom shook his head; having his son named after his brother would make him angry as he would always remember.
"My nephew, his son, is already named after him. There's no need, as much as it would be a good gesture,"
Sybil nodded and said, much quieter, "It would make you remember too, and make you angry,"
He nodded; she could read him like a book. It came in very handy when he had been out late at night; he didn't need to explain himself as she already knew or guessed.
Sybil regretted bring up the name as it was the catalyst for Tom's sadness and angry thoughts. She could see that he was about to cry so she changed the subject, bringing his mind back to happier things.
"Can you think of any Mama?" She asked. Cora thought for a moment; she hadn't come up with any, this were her daughter's territory; she just wanted to see the little one.
"Bradley?" she suggested. "My cousin in New York is called that. Such a nice boy, I don't know if you girls remember him,"
Sybil smiled; she remembered her mother's cousin Bradley. He wasn't much older than Mary but that, along with their DNA, was the only thing they had in common. He was care free and had a sense of humour that made even Granny laugh.
"Remember him? I think he is permanently etched into all our minds after he sent Granny to bed in fits of laughter!" Mary laughed. "But yes, that's a nice name."
Tom and Sybil both nodded, gazing at their son to see if the name fit.
"Bradley Branson." Sybil tried and then chuckled. "That doesn't really-"
"Don't sit right does it?" Tom shook his head and they passed up the name.
They tried for the next half an hour to come up with a name, with no success.
"I never knew that it would be this hard to find a name!" Sybil sighed, mentally exhausted. She swore that they must have mentioned every name known to man; even Robert which Sybil rejected straight away. She didn't want to be reminded of her father for the best part of her life, much as Tom didn't want to be reminded of his brother.
Mary had left, her place in the room being taken by the Dowager Countess who, to everyone's surprise, fawned and fussed over the baby the most. Though she only got to hold him for a few moments; her arms weren't as strong as they once were, she couldn't contain the joy she felt when holding him, like all the others.
A new baby in the house was exactly what the house needed given the large black cloud that had been hanging over it: the war, the many deaths, Sybil's seemingly drastic elopement; though without it, the sadness would never have left.
"So he still doesn't have a name? Poor child," Violet sighed. "We need to think of something, it cannot be impossible. How many children does your mother have Tom?"
Tom frowned at the seemingly personal and pointless question. He thought that he'd better answer; he'd only just got into her good books.
"Seven. 4 girls, 3 boys,"
"And you're the eldest," Sybil added.
"Goodness! Did she have trouble with naming you all?" Violet gasped. Tom could see where she was going with this.
"Well, not really, the older kids never really got a say; it was Ma and Pa who chose them, apart from Charlotte."
"We need your mother here. She must have a knack for names," She sighed.
"Aye," Tom mumbled, taking a sip from the mug of tea, Ivy, the new housemaid bought them. He stood on the far side of the room away from Sybil; she hated the smell of tea, ever since she'd been pregnant. Even now, after the baby had been born, it baffled him that she was still adverse to the smell.
"Oh that reminds me, I've written a letter to your Ma, telling her about our boy," Sybil piped up, opening a draw and pulling out an envelope. She tried getting up; this would be the first time in days she would have been on her feet- she managed to stand, beginning to walk over to Tom when she smelt tea.
She stopped in her tracks, wincing and holding out the letter.
"Take it," she squeaked and Tom chuckled, setting down the mug in an over exaggerated gesture.
"I'll post it later," he promised, kissing her forehead. Cora smiled, but distracted herself from the intimate moment by smiling at her grandson in her arms.
A knock came at the door, making them all turn.
"Sybil?" Lord Grantham entered, calling his daughter. His eyes popped slightly at the amount of people in the small- well, smaller than the normal gathering rooms-bedroom and cough uncomfortably.
"I'll come back later,"
"No!" Sybil called, stopping him in his tracks and reaching out her hand slightly. She hadn't seen him in what seemed forever and she didn't want to see him go now. "Please, stay," she begged.
Tom took a step away from his wife, hoping to make his father in law more comfortable and appease him for them not being too close for his comfort.
Robert looked at his family, seeing all their pleading and begging faces; the one that stood out most was his wife. She was holding the boy, occasionally glancing a looking at him. She looked like she was on the brink of tears, ready to shed them if he refused Sybil. He nodded and closed the door behind him, standing awkwardly in the corner.
There was a long silence to go with it until Violet and Edith stated their leave to get ready for luncheon.
"Good luck with the naming," Edith said, giving a hopeful smile to Sybil, who shrugged back.
"Naming? The little chap hasn't got a name yet?" Robert asked, frowning in disbelief. When the girls were born, Cora had named them fully before he got the chance to meet them.
"No, not yet. We can't find one that sticks," Sybil murmured, sitting down in the armchair by the window. She sighed as the warm sunshine hit her face; how she longed to go outside just for a little while. But no-one would let her.
"Oh, well, I'm sure you'll find one," he acquiesced, making leave toward the door.
"Don't you want to see him, Robert?" Cora asked, though her tone was harsh. Robert guessed that he wasn't leaving for a long time.
He noticed Sybil and Tom look at him, her gaze expectant and Tom's rather unhopeful. Lord Grantham could see that the new father in front of him knew that he didn't want to be there. Rather than give him the satisfaction of victory, he decided to prove them wrong.
"Of course," he smiled, taking a hesitant step forward.
Sybil couldn't believe it. She believed it to be a dream, but after pinching her leg she found that it wasn't. She watched as her mother passed their grandson to her father, him making an awkward cradle from his arms. She smiled as her son gurgled, his small fist grasping at Lord Grantham's jacket lapel.
"Well," he started but never finished, he was lost for words. He hadn't held a baby for a long time but the happiness you felt when you see their tiny little face. He smiled widely, for the first time in what seemed a while, a genuine smile.
Sybil chuckled, standing to hold Toms hand in hope. Tom studied his lordships face, wondering what was going on inside his head. Usually his lordships emotions were very easy to read as they mirrored his thoughts, but the calm contemplation and the awed smile that he could see made his thoughts very hard to guess. Was he happy? Or just putting on a front?
"How about Christopher?" Robert suggested, making the couple exchange a look. Cora, too, looked at her husband, wondering if he had gone mad, if she had gone mad; his approval could be a mirage, a trick of the tired mind.
"Christopher?" Sybil questioned. She never thought of that name. She smiled and looked at her husband for his opinion. He nodded his head and she walked over to her Papa, stroking her son's cheek.
"I like it, such a good name." she whispered. "Hello Christopher."
A/N: Aww he now has a name. It took me a while to find a name that would be good enough.
Now, I don't know if the inheritance will pass, i made it up, but I think it would be common sense to give it to a grandson rather than a third cousin. A grandson seems to be a closer relation. Don't criticise if I'm wrong, I made it up!
Please tell me what you think!
Cheerio
J xxx