Chapter Nine

And so time began to pass rather uneventfully. Sybil began to recover and (no more than a week after Mary and Edith's rescue mission) she was out of bed and walking around the grounds on the arms of a man whom was once her chauffeur.

"At least she seems happy," Cora said to Robert one night, who merely grunted in response.

"Perhaps she is," was his reluctant response.

"There's no perhaps about it, darling," Cora said, smiling as Robert climbed into bed. She lay down her head and looked at him, remembering how they had been in their youth. So full of energy, so passionate. She saw that in Sybil and Tom, she saw it in Mary and Matthew and she hoped that, one day, Edith would find love and have that too.

"We really should start thinking about Edith," Robert said, as if he were reading her mind.

"I've been saying this for a few years now-"

"No, you've been focusing on Mary for years now, my dear," Robert pointed out and Cora sighed.

"Mary was the eldest, she had no prospects for the future once Patrick died, we had to focus on her. She would have been left with nothing"

"And now she isn't."

"No, now she isn't," Cora asserted, and her eyes closed with a smile adorning her features. Robert stared at her for a long while and a familiar ache rose up in his chest. The guilt at what he had done still resounded in his heart, the memory of how passion for that...that woman had filled him. The maid. He remembered how all thoughts of Cora, all thoughts of his wife, had evaded him. Robert wondered how he had ever been able to be so utterly selfish, for the sake of just a few moments of bliss. The memories still haunted him. When he finally fell into unconsciousness, it brought him no reprieve, only nightmares.

The first time that Sybil was well enough to come down for dinner Mary and Edith went to her room when Anna was just finishing her hair. Mary smiled at Anna and dismissed her in the gentlest way possible. Mary liked Anna, just like she liked Carson. As a matter of fact, Mary liked most of the servants, which was a little odd considering she didn't like plenty of people from her own status in society.

"Well, are you looking forward to dinner?" Mary asked and Sybil laughed, standing up and walking to the mirror where she stood sideways, admiring her baby bump.

"Dinner with Tom and Granny at the same table," Sybil turned to her sisters and grinned, "Of course, I can't wait."

When the three girls descended to the parlour, they found an icy silence had been cast over their family. They were all staring in opposite directions, all refusing to speak. Sybil walked in, her sisters flanking her, and she sighed.

"Gracious, would someone please crack a smile?" She said, walking over to sit beside Tom, who grinned at her. She rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean"

"Sybil, darling, how are you feeling?" Cora asked her, with a tight lipped smile.

"Much better, thank you, mama," Sybil told her, and Carson came through to tell them that their dinner was ready.

All in all, Mary found dinner rather amusing. Sybil sat beside Branson, who wore a suit that he was obviously uncomfortable in and Matthew sat on his other side. Mary sat beside Matthew and Edith beside Sybil. They formed a sort of perimeter around the young couple, offering silent moral support and a barrier for whatever the Dowager Countess and their father could shoot at them or, more likely, Branson. Beside her, Mary could sense Matthew's amusement at the situation, particularly considering the way the family had reacted to him when he had first arrived at Downton. Perhaps he would have received a warmer welcome had they known who Sybil would choose to be her husband.

Mary had to admit, at first she had been sceptical; she also had to admit that sceptical might be a little bit of an understatement. But since Sybil and Tom had been back at the Abbey, she'd seen how happy he made her sister and she imagined that the expression on Sybil's face when Branson smiled at her or touched her hand was one that Mary wore whenever Matthew did those things to her. And the fact that Sybil was to have a baby could only add to her happiness, Mary assumed. It was strange, Mary considered throughout the meal, she had once thought that she would have several children by the time Sybil married and did the same, being five years older than her little sister.

It is rather funny how these things turn out, she thought to herself, watching as Matthew tried to make conversation with Branson.

"So, how is the prospect of fatherhood?" he inquired, suddenly sounding exceptionally posh next to the Irish man.

"Daunting," Branson said, in between mouthfuls, "But exciting at the same time," he added, sending his wife a quick smile.

"And will you be raising the child Catholic?" Granny asked, resulting in a sudden lapse in the conversation as they all turned to look at Sybil and Tom. After all, religion is always a controversial subject for a family dinner. In a small but powerful gesture, Mary saw Sybil's hand close over Tom's. This seemed to help him find his voice again.

"Sybil and I haven't discussed that yet."

"I'm sure that's a conversation to be had in private?" Cora said with a taut smile, avoiding looking towards Branson. As far as Mary was aware, her mother had been rather more impartial to the idea of Sybil and Tom getting married, certainly more so than either Violet or Robert. Cora had simply not wanted her daughter cast out into the world without a shoulder to fall back on, which was why she had managed to persuade Robert to give Sybil her dowry. But, Mary thought, I suppose it is still difficult to allow your aristocratic daughter to marry an Irish labourer.
"Yes, thank you Mama," Sybil nodded.

"So, do we have any ideas for names yet?" Edith asked, smiling at Sybil and Tom together, "Baby names, I mean,"

"Well, that's another thing we've not discussed-" Sybil began nervously, but Branson cut across her.

"I've always liked Seamus or Siobhan for my children," he said and Mary briefly closed her eyes, knowing this would spark off Granny and sure enough-

"Seamus and Siobhan? My dear boy, those are names for leprechauns, not Crawleys."

"Yes, but the children won't be Crawleys-"

"They will in part," Cora said, pointedly.

"Yes, Lady Grantham, if you'd allow me to speak, I was going to say that the children won't be Crawleys in name," he added, looking like a lamb in a lions den.

"Actually, Tom, we've not discussed-"

"They will be Crawleys by blood. I will not allow my eldest grandchild to hold a name that I would be embarrassed to repeat," Robert said, looking between the young couple with disbelief written across his face.

"Papa, nothing is decided-" Sybil tried again, but was cut off abruptly.

"With respect, sir, this is my child, not yours."

"I am the head of this family-"

"When you say embarrassed to repeat do you mean the first name or the 'Branson' at the end of it?" Tom demanded with a steely look in his eye.

"But it is our grandchild!" Cora said gently, in an effort to regain peace. It was, however, too late for Sybil, who stood up and, without a word, slammed her napkin down onto the table and left the room. Carson opened the door for her and she was gone. Moments later, they heard her light footsteps up the stairs, along with a few quiet sobs. Mary, Edith and Cora all made to stand up but Robert's voice rang out; loud, clear and authoritative.

"Leave her," he commanded, "Give her a little time."

"She wouldn't need time if you hadn't decided to recommence the Great War at the dinner table!" Mary said. Her exasperation with both her father and Branson was clear.

"She's right-" Cora began, but Mary turned on her mother.

"And you're no better! Branson…Tom is now part of this family, as much as Sybil is, and I will not allow any of you push my sister out because you can't get along!" she said, leaning over the table with her hands braced on it's fine wood, her eyes bright and accusatory to anyone they fell upon. Edith stood behind her, arms folded across her chest, looking almost as cross as Mary.

"Well," The Dowager said, standing up and gripping her tea, "I think that's quite enough for one night, I'll be leaving now," and with that, just as swiftly as Sybil, she fled from the room.

Mary sat back down and began eating once more and beneath the table, Matthew gripped her hand softly. A moment later, there was a muffled thump in the hallway and Carson came rushing in.

"I'm afraid the Dowager Countess has...uh...fainted," he said, looking as if this wasn't something that had been in the job description. As one, the entire family jumped up and Isobel rushed forwards, clearly relishing the opportunity to put her nurse's hat back on.

"I'll see what I can do for her, Matthew, Tom; I'm probably going to need your help to carry her to one of the bedrooms. Cora, send someone for Dr. Clarkson."

Moments later Isobel became the third woman to have rushed from the dining room that evening, leaving the rest of them frozen in shock.


Omigooosh. 18 Favorites? I believe thats a record for me. Thanks guys(: It makes me so happy that you like my writing and it'd make me even happier if you could maybe pop in a review or two? If you don't have the time or can't for whatever reason, obviously thats fine but I sure would appreciate it (: And...that was not your main plot twist. Watch out for the next chapter ;) (Might get it up tonight but no promises)

Stephaniee xxx