I decided to introduce someone we all would love to loathe in this chapter. Thank you again for your feedback and continued readership! It is very much appreciated.

Prompt: "If there's one thing the world needs more of…"

February 1917

Back at Downton, it was a well-known fact that William Mason was in love with the kitchen maid, Daisy. Apparently, before leaving for France, William had proposed marriage and Daisy had accepted. When news of William's injury and imminent death reached the ears of the staff, Daisy stepped forward and sought permission by Mrs. Patmore, Carson, and the Earl of Grantham himself, if she and William could be married while there was still time.

Just as she had done with getting William to Downton, so too did the Dowager Countess champion this cause, going to Mr. Travis and pleading William's case until the vicar finally agreed to perform the marriage.

Sybil was a witness to that wedding. She stood next to Edith, and watched as Daisy stood by William's side, holding his hand while the vows were read, offering her hand for the presentation of the ring, and then finally bending her head to brush her lips to his, sealing their marriage with a loving kiss.

To Sybil, it was the saddest and most beautiful thing she had ever witnessed. Sometimes, her mind wanders to William and Daisy, wanders and imagines what might have been had dear William survived. You would think "love" and "romance" would be the last things a person would contemplate during such hard times, when death and tragedy surround you no matter which way you look.

…And yet perhaps for that very reason such thoughts cloud her mind?

Sybil is proud of the work she and Thomas have done with Lt. Courtney. The man still needs to be transferred to a proper convalescent home, but the field hospital has gone above and beyond in seeing to his care and helping him deal with his injuries. Despite Thomas' hopeful words, there is no denying that poor Lt. Courtney—Edward, is blind. And while this did indeed upset the young officer, both Thomas and Sybil have done their best in helping him accept this new reality, as well as simply being present to provide comfort when it is needed.

"I think we should help him learn how to walk with a cane," Sybil announces one morning, while she and Thomas are eating breakfast. "He needs to be active; doing something! I think that will help him and offer him hope!"

Thomas looks a bit more skeptic. "That's the sort of thing done at a convalescent home, not here."

Sybil rolls her eyes. "Yes, I know that, but who knows when the transfer will be? He's been in the field hospital for nearly a month! We need to do something, and not just for Lt. Courtney, but other officers like him!"

Thomas still looks unsure, but Sybil is feeling more and more determined. "I am positive Sister Agatha will agree."

Thomas grunts as he finishes his coffee. "It's not her you'd have to convince but Maj. Tapsell; he has final say on all medical matters."

Sybil groans and makes a face at this. Lord help her, she cannot abide Maj. Tapsell. Maj. Tapsell is as coldblooded as a snake; the man shows no sympathy, no warmth, and he always looks down his nose at the nurses.

However, Maj. Tapsell spends far more time with the Generals, trying to stay on their good graces, than overseeing the field hospital. Perhaps what he doesn't know can't harm them?

She seeks out Branson's help, thinking that the ambulance may have a cane they could use. "Sorry, there isn't," he tells her. But she doesn't even have the chance to look disappointed by this news, before he straightens up and says, "I'll make you one."

Her eyes widen. "W-what?" she stammers.

He grins and nods. "I'll make you one. I'll take a branch from the firewood supply, smooth it down with my pocket knife…I'll start on it tonight, if you'd like?"

She stares at him…and the urge to throw her arms around him and embrace him for his offer is almost too much.

But somehow she manages to control herself.

"Thank you…" she finally murmurs, when she's fairly certain she has control over her emotions.

He smiles, but there's something in his eyes, something…she isn't sure what, but it does make her blush, as well as holds her captive.

"It's nothing," he finally says, looking down at the rag he's holding his hands.

Sybil shakes her head. "No, Tom, you doing this is not nothing, it is the very opposite of nothing!"

A soft chuckle fills the air between them and he looks back at her in that soft, tender way that causes her heart to melt and her toes to curl. "I think that's the first time I've heard you say my name," he grins. "And besides," he carries on before she has the chance to react to his words. "I'm just 'smoothing a stick', you and Cpl. Barrow are doing all the hard work."

She remembers how not so long ago Thomas had "made light" of what Branson did, referring to him as "just driving the ambulance". "You're doing more than just 'smoothing a stick'," she insists. "You are literally providing him with a tool that will not only help him learn how to move about in the world without his sight, but, I am convinced, provide him with…hope, to carry on!"

Gracious, he does have a lovely smile.

"Hope…" he murmurs. He says the word both reverently and wistfully. "If there's one thing the world needs more of…"

His voice trails off and his expression becomes troubled. Sybil turns and looks over her shoulder and sees Thomas approaching, looking agitated and upset. She rushes to his side and grips his arm. "Thomas, what is it? What's wrong?"

He's positively seething. She's never seen him look this upset. "Damn Maj. Tapsell," he hatefully spits the name. "He says we're overrun; he's ordering all patients who are not 'of the utmost importance' to be removed to…I don't know, he didn't say, to just have them 'removed'."

Sybil's eyes widen in shock. "When!?"

Thomas grits his teeth once more. "Now."

To be continued...