A/N: Sorry for the long chapter and long absence before posting it. Time to meet Shrimpie! :D
Lynch covered up his surprise at the request formidably as he was used to and quite fond of Lady Sybil, rather Mrs Branson's, foibles. He was glad to have the chance to shake Mr Branson's hand and offer his congratulations to them both in the privacy of the stables as he was rather fond of the young man. The pair had worked together more than once as both were tasked with ferrying of the family.
He told the couple he had a few old bikes the family had used in the past knocking about and he would find the best one for their purposes in the next few days. Neither of them had mentioned for whom the bike was intended, and naturally he had assumed it would be for Mrs Branson and her soon to be child.
"How was it really?" Sybil asked as they walked arm in arm back to the house for afternoon tea. He chuckled lightly as he noticed the eagerness of her steps towards the food.
"Not too bad," was his brief reply. "I wish it were not so hot now though. It needs to rain and it's making me antsy in this get-up. I can get away with taking my jacket off more back home." It was Sybil's turn to chuckle now, and Tom loved how it sounded like the brook in their favourite walking area near Dublin. "What?"
"We are turning you English now, aren't we? Remarking upon the weather when you want to avoid a difficult topic! Well, I won't push you, but thank you for going through that for me."
In truth it really was not so bad, but the grateful kiss she bestowed seemed to end the topic so he did not see the point in relaying any more, though the whole day passed through his mind.
He had gone in the same car with Lord and Lady Grantham and Lady Mary, with stinted conversation. Lady Mary seemed pleased that his presence stopped the usual wedding-based griping from her mother and she decided to ensure the conversation remained hers to control. He was easily pliable as long as it distracted him from wanting to fiddle with his tie.
"So do you and Sybil get to dances often, Mr Branson? You did seem to pick up a new partner rather easily last night."
"We did go more when we first arrived in Dublin; and that type of dance does welcome new partners. But as things have gotten a little worse out in Ireland fewer people have been going out at night, us included. Especially with the babe on the way, there seemed little point." He was not oblivious to Cora holding her husband's hand tighter to keep his comments at bay when the troubles in Ireland were brought up. He was well aware that at some point in the visit there would be a serious conversation with them about the practicality of their daughter living in a dangerous climate but it seemed now was not deemed the time. He supposed he had to enjoy the time before the wedding as a sort of ceasefire. "Of course, on special occasions we will have a ceili and they get you into dancing with anybody and everybody."
"I remember you had one of those after your wedding breakfast. Sybil seemed to really like it."
"Yes, it can be a good way to mingle for a newly married couple. I do seem to remember Edith dancing rather well there too." This time he was not aware of the subtle nuances around the carriage between the three people who still found it uncomfortable to hear him mention Edith's name without the precursor of Lady. Cora always loved and hated to hear about her youngest daughter's wedding feeling both guilty and glad of not attending, and loving to hear snippets that truly made her confident of her child's happiness.
"And how are you with the type of dances we will be having after Mary's wedding breakfast?"
"I can get about with those all right, Cora, but I dare say not as gracefully as your family. I did dance a number of the dances at the old servants' balls, though of course not as many as the others as I still had my duties to attend to."
The servants' ball? Robert's mind reeled at the mention of it, and he forced himself to not try to wonder whether Branson had ever danced with Sybil at one of them. He needed to speak to push back the intruding thoughts, though found finding a topic of mutual interest that did not spark argument with the man incredibly hard.
"Well, I do insist on several of these more modern dances, and I meant what I said; I fully intend to dance one with Edith. Let's not warn my mother of it though." They all smiled in unison at the thought of her face seeing him jive about in front of most of London's society. Robert felt proud he seemed to have managed to say something right for once, feeling his wife's grateful eyes upon him as they pulled up to the tailor's.
The Dowager Countess was sat inside tapping her foot impatiently, and Isobel was sat on a chair next to her facing the other way. Cora had told Tom earlier that Lady Violet would be taking her horse-drawn carriage and would pick up Matthew and Isobel en route. When he had asked where the other car was going, she smiled coyly announcing Edith had taken it to pick up Sir Anthony. She had apparently asked Mary to include him in the wedding party. Cora did not tell him that one of the points mentioned was that if Tom was to be an usher, despite where he came from, then Anthony should surely be one as well considering his background and the fact he might very soon be her brother-in-law too. Edith had been shocked by Mary's easy acquiescence but in truth she had thought another usher was an excellent idea considering the number of people who had to be seated in very strict precedence.
More tea was poured for the party by the obliging assistant of the store. The gentleman who ran the tailor's was seeing to Matthew out the back, and once his suit was confirmed then the other men would follow him back there to be kitted out.
"Tom, I wonder if I might have your opinion on a wedding gift," Isobel instantly demanded upon seeing him, strolling purposefully to a far corner where there were cufflinks and handkerchiefs displayed, clearly brooking no argument. A small sigh of relief descended across the room as dutiful conversations turned to ones of more depth. Tom and Isobel got on rather well when out of earshot of other people and she needed someone to take her from Cousin Violet's presence and soon. Violet was feeling the same way about Isobel.
"Dratted woman, trying to convince me that Sybil marrying him was a good thing for our family," she muttered to Robert, Cora and Mary as they sat to have some tea with her. They were all glad to have a moment to themselves without outsiders and fell to their ease.
"I don't think I would ever go that far, but he could be a lot worse." Violet looked as if she disagreed with this statement of her daughter-in-law's, but Cora rarely received any other sort of look from her. "I don't think you thought any differently of me when I first joined the family."
"I don't think Sybil would like us gossiping about him when he is just over there," Mary added.
"Perhaps not. So, my dear, have you had any more thought about the floral stands. I really do think the Iris is an unwise choice…" Mary hid a roll of her eyes and pursing of her lips behind her cup of tea, preparing herself for another battle with her family in the War of her Wedding when Matthew emerged fully clad in a well-fitted suit taking her breath away and managing to make her have to put down her teacup.
"Matthew!" she exclaimed standing, ignoring her grandmother's petering out nonsenses. "You look amazing." She rarely complimented his appearance and he was exceedingly gratified by her expressiveness in this case. They each shone alone for each other in this moment, the first one where she truly felt the reality of him and their marriage in the midst of this wedding fiasco, and it made her know with full certainty that everything was worth it. She walked up to him, needing to touch him albeit lightly on the cuff or collar to ensure he was indeed real. He could see the emotion in her eyes when their gazes met and felt a similar wave wash over him, but with a whole room of Crawleys watching he could not act on it as he wished. "This is how you will look when we promise ourselves to each other?"
"There is another I like also, but I think I am decided on this one now after this reaction."
"No, we can see the other one."
"I would like to remember this moment on our wedding day, my darling," he beamed boyishly at her as he pecked her chastely on the cheek, and she knew that he was right and that no other suit could now compare. "I suppose you other chaps should come and try on your suits too," Matthew announced forcing himself and his bride-to-be back to the present. Just in time as well, for with that Anthony and Edith entered the shop chatting with Lord and Lady Flintshire and Mary's cousin, Rose.
Matthew felt the entire room tense up. He had only met the Flintshires on a handful of occasions and found them to be amiable enough, but Mary had recently given him a lot more gossip of the two families' relationship. It was barely needed to tell that Edith and Rose, who was slightly younger than all the Crawley girls, held a lot of animosity to each other and the latter was making an overt display of friendliness to Strallan which Edith clearly did not like a bit. Of course, Anthony was oblivious to it and Matthew knew that some light flirting from a trouble maker like her would not deviate his affection to Edith, but his soon to be sister in law's confidence did not make her think so.
He felt himself pulled along in Mary's wake as she swept over to the Flintshires and embraced them. Rose half ignored her, she and Mary hating each other even more than Rose and Edith.
"Is Sybil not here?" Sybil was the only one of the Crawleys who got on well enough with Rose. It had started with a necessity to keep her out of her elder sisters' hair when they were playing together as little girls. She hated it when her big sisters got in a bad mood and it was never so bad as when Rose wound them up.
She had not liked her too well for the longest time either, but Rose had convinced herself they were closer than sisters and would secretly idolise her, sneaking into her room during visits to stay up half the night and listen raptly as Sybil expounded passionately about the future and women's role in it. Sybil found her an attentive and intelligent partner at such times as they hid under the blankets together and really rather liked her, but in the light of day she always seemed to return to the nasty and spoilt girl she was in front of everyone else, which confounded the slightly elder girl.
"Sybil is at home resting after her long journey yesterday," Cora interjected as she tersely exchanged pleasantries with the Flintshires. They more than anyone still disparaged her American heritage even though most other people admitted she had adapted to the life of a Countess with aplomb.
"Ah yes, she lives in Ireland now, I believe? And she is married to…?"
"That would be me, Tom Branson. A pleasure to meet you." Cora and Violet's eyes snapped to each other in alarm not having seen Isobel and Tom return to meet the guests. They had known this moment was upon them but hated already having the feeling of losing the control. Hugh, a.k.a. Shrimpie, was taken aback a little by the vaguely familiar man's brusque accent and irregular suit but automatically stuck his hand out to shake.
"Have we met somewhere before?" Rose was giggling by his side.
"Rose, whatever has gotten into you?" Susan asked of her daughter.
"You have seen him before, papa. He was their chauffeur, I remember thinking him very handsome!" She smiled and winked at Branson in the most alarming way as Hugh pulled his hand roughly from Tom's.
"Chauffeur! You might have warned me," he exclaimed as he rubbed his hand over his suit in a mock show of wiping himself clean. He walked purposefully up to Robert. "What was Sybil thinking of, and what are you thinking of inviting him back here?"
"Oh papa, calm down. The war has robbed us ladies of many potential suitors, you can't blame those who get desperate, like Edith, or look further afield, like Sybil. Though I must say I am disappointed Sybil felt she had to marry at all. " Edith gripped Anthony's hand in indignation and pulled him over to look at the cufflinks. He had not registered what she had said until Edith reacted, but the words began repeating in his head and he could not shake idea of their accuracy.
Rose was very bitter about the whole situation. Being several months younger than Sybil she was due to have her coming out season in 1915, but the war put paid to that, and now the seasons were starting up again she was no longer of debutante age, nor were there very many men to choose from.
Their London town house was very near to the Crawleys' so they would often see each other in earlier seasons, and when Mary had her debutante year she had been so excited to finally get to hear all about it. She remembered crowding in with Edith and Sybil as Mary returned one evening and they all asked her to tell them all about it.
"You are too young at the moment, darlings. You just need to know it was marvellous," Mary had shunned them haughtily as she had dreamily waltzed off to her room. She did not want to spoil their illusions of what it was like having to flatter a load of dull men, but overall it really had been marvellous and the whole room had loved her. She could tell she was going to have a truly excellent life in this crowd and when she did find a man she didn't find dull she was wholly confident she would be able to entrance him as she had managed all of the men tonight. And she was determined to enjoy the practise up until then.
Two years later it was Edith's turn, and she had Sybil and Rose's eager faces meeting her as she returned. She had planned on telling them everything, but in truth she had not had a great time of it. She lacked attention, was asked to dance less than most of her friends and, what hurt the most, far less than Mary who was amidst men all evening. So when it had come to talking of it to the younger girls she emulated her elder sister's reply before carrying herself upstairs to cry herself to sleep.
At Sybil's season she had tried to persuade everyone to allow Rose to come to the ball in her honour, but the adults would not allow it, so she found a spot where she could hide to watch it all, and Sybil would sneak away a couple of times to fill her in on everything.
Sybil had a very busy season of it, but each morning she would make time to visit her cousin and fill her in on everything, including the fashions and the men, and she even arranged a couple of photographs to be taken to bring to her. All of this had served to whet the younger girl's appetite for her season the following year and she had come back from London already preparing herself for it, ordering gowns she was never to get to really shine in. She had taken the outbreak of war personally, and when it was not over by Christmas as had been promised she got increasingly bitter and frustrated with the incompetency of the generals. She took her lack of a season as giving her a right to flirt shamelessly with every man she met.
"But Mary here has caught herself a decent fella. Looking good, Matthew." She stroked his arm as she looked him up and down in his wedding suit. He swallowed awkwardly and took a step back, holding his fiancée's hand and hoping Mary would not kill the woman.
"Good to see you all looking so well. Gentlemen, shall we look at your suits?" Matthew awkwardly got the mismatched group of men into the back room with the help of the assistant where they all barely spoke, each involved in his own thoughts. Matthew engineered it so Shrimpie was seen to first so Violet could take the Flintshires away as soon as he was done. He did not like to think of Mary being forced into Rose's company for too long.
Once he was out he pushed Tom into the changing room so that the two men barely saw each other. It left Hugh to have a brief word with Robert, and he did not worry about lowering his tone.
"I always thought Sybil was a bad egg and you needed to rein her in more, and now she has brought herself so low and your whole family into disrepute. No, don't try to defend her. I just want to say that I am not sure yet whether I wish to distance my family from yours, I shall discuss with Aunty Vi and Susan this afternoon and let you know at dinner tonight. But I shall be mindful of letting my Rose be influenced any more by your daughter. She's already filled her head with idiotic notions but I shall be mindful and learn from your mistakes to keep her on a tighter rein and watch what company she keeps. Matthew, Sir Anthony." He swept out of the room after nodding them a farewell and all three men outside the changing room shared a look of incredulousness and relief.
It was all Tom could do to not go out and deck the man, but he was now in his undergarments and in his mind's eye he could see how disappointed Sybil would be if she heard that he had punched her uncle in front of her whole family in his underwear.
A minute later he could hear Matthew, Anthony and Robert talking in hushed tones outside.
"They're gone!"
"What a relief!"
"I must say I did not care for the way he spoke to you."
"Nor did I. I hope they didn't frighten you away from coming to dinner tonight, Sir Anthony."
"Not in the least, but I cannot promise to seek out his company." Tom was lightened to hear that nobody else liked the man and the rest of the time with the family passed rather pleasantly if still rigidly. Tom was overjoyed to learn that the Flintshires would be staying in the Dower House with Lady Violet instead of at Downton itself. They all managed to get the suits arranged, have luncheon while out and run several more errands before returning.
"I told her she should be resting!" Cora resignedly commented as their car pootled up the long drive to Downton Abbey, and Tom followed her gaze seeing his wife in the middle of the grounds speaking to Thomas. She didn't look quite right to him, perhaps a little pale, but he could sense the sparkle of her making schemes from this distance and could not help but smile. But as he saw her grab Thomas' hand and put it on her belly and the pair share a look he felt the smile fade and fire race to his face, wondering what they were talking of so intimately.
"Could you please stop the car?" he asked the new chauffeur opening the door before they had come to a stop. "Excuse me," he said to Robert, Cora and Mary as he stepped out of the car, suddenly realising that the others probably were thinking about how she seemed to have a liking for being too close to any servant named Tom or Thomas. The logical part of his brain forced the feelings akin to jealousy back down thinking them insulting to his wife, trusting her completely and knowing she had a right to talk to anyone she wished to. Still, why did it have to be Thomas of all people? He was such a weasel.