Chapter 10 – Repercussions

"All this while you've been seducing my daughter behind my back…just a grubby little chauffeur man…it's what he was hired for." All the insults Tom had received in that house over the years came back to haunt him and played over and over in his mind as he walked away. He made his way up the stairs to the nursery to find Nanny just about to put Sibby to bed.

"You go Nanny, I'll take care of her," he said trying not to let the emotion choke his voice.

He put his daughter into bed then pulled out one of her favorite books and cuddled her close while he read to her. A single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek as he read. He didn't know why it all hurt so much. What did he expect from somebody who was born to be an aristocrat, the ruling class? Equality, the right to have your voice heard, giving a damn about the people around you, they were all foreign concepts in this world. He should have known better.

"Dada sad?" Sibby asked reaching up her chubby fingers and poking him in the cheek where the tear had trickled down as he leaned over her and adjusted the covers.

"No Dada is happy he's here with you," Tom answered kissing her on the forehead before turned out the light.

The next morning he was up and out of the house at the crack of dawn. "He was the hired help all right. Make no mistake about it," he thought to himself. He had work to get to from dawn through until evening. Thank God, he had a dinner meeting that evening that would keep him away from the house. With any luck he wouldn't have to see his sister-in-law before she left. He paused for a minute as he saddled his mare before he headed out into the grey light. "Who are you trying to kid? You're hurt and you're angry." He was still every bit as hot headed as he'd always been, he was just getting better at hiding it.

It wasn't until the following morning a few hours before Edith was scheduled to leave that he had to deal with her face to face. Tom had ridden over to one of the farms to discuss the upcoming lambing season with the man who tended the flock in that section when Edith arrived driving one of the cars. As she approached the shepherd tipped his hat to her and tactfully made his retreat.

"I'm surprised to see you out so late before your departure," Tom said in way of greeting. His face was serious and his blue eyes were snapping with pain and anger. Pain she had put there.

"I wanted to apologize for my comment the other night at dinner and explain why I'm leaving," Edith replied.

"There's no need to apologize and you certainly don't owe me any explanations," Tom replied. He was still angry and hurt. At the moment he wasn't really interested in anything Edith had to say.

"I do," Edith said. "I didn't mean to imply that you were part of the hired help. I meant that you are perfectly capable of making business decisions in my absence. It came out badly and I apologize."

"You were correct in your statement, Edith. I was hired to do a job. If I've done anything to offend you or behaved in any way inappropriately I apologize. Now, if you'll excuse me I have work to attend to. You won't want to miss your train," Tom said. He mounted quickly and cantered off before Edith had a chance to reply.

"Damn," Edith swore in a most unladylike way under her breath. She got back in the car and headed back to the Abbey to collect her maid and luggage before she in fact missed her train.

-0-

Mary's baby was due in another six weeks. Most evenings the Dowager Countess and Isobel Crawley were in attendance at dinner in anticipation of the big day. It had been two days since Edith's departure before Robert had a chance to corner his mother in the drawing room. He sent the servants downstairs for the evening before he challenged her in front of the rest of the family.

"Mama, I'd like an explanation as to why Edith felt the need to run off to America," Robert said. He had asked the rest of the family to remain.

"What did Edith say?" the Dowager inquired making her most innocent face and raising her eyebrows.

"She wouldn't tell us a thing," Robert replied. "I'm quite sure you had something to do with it."

"I simply outlined her choices. She chose to take an extended trip. There's nothing untoward in that," Violet answered sweetly.

"And what choices were those?" Cora inquired.

"It was brought to my attention there has been considerable gossip in London and in the county linking Branson…Tom with Edith in a romantic way. I simply told her she could either marry him or make herself absent until the gossip died down," Violet declared.

"You did what!" Robert bellowed.

Tom's eyes flew open wide in shock at the Dowager's statement. "Why would anyone link Edith with me?" Tom interjected quickly. "Lady Grantham, I can assure you there is no truth in the rumors. If I had known I would have moved out immediately,"

"And what good would that have done?" Violet questioned. "It would have just served to fuel the flames and made my granddaughter the object of speculation and ridicule for shattered hopes whether there was truth in the rumors or not."

"Mama, even you can't tell people who to marry or where to go without consulting the other parties involved," Robert declared.

"It's a moot point," Violet declared straightening her back and raising her chin imperiously. "Edith has chosen to make herself absent for the next six months or so. When she returns the rumors will have died down and things will be back to normal. Hopefully she will find some rich American while she is over there and everything will settle itself nicely."

"You never cease to amaze," Isobel Crawley commented to the Dowager.

"I take that as a compliment," she replied.

"Well, you shouldn't," Robert turned back to his mother after taking a moment to think over the news. "It would have been more prudent to bring this to everyone's attention and let us make a decision together. Edith was obviously upset before she left. Your meddling has possibly damaged Edith's position in this family and the running of this estate forever."

Tom had moved to the fireplace and was watching the flames. He had been too angry to listen to Edith's explanation before she left. His pride and anger had won out, that and his trampled feelings. His head was reeling from everything he had heard. Where would the Dowager get the idea of him marrying Edith? The flames of the fire seemed to dance up and laugh at him as he stood there. "You're not one of them. You're not one of them, you foolish Irish git," they seemed to taunt at him as they consumed the logs.

"Where would you get the idea that Edith and I would ever get married," Tom demanded suddenly turning back to the room from the fire.

"Why not?" Lady Violet replied. Everyone turned to look at her open mouthed. "It's obvious Edith has some affection for you. You seem to get along quite well. You're an attractive young man who is respectable enough now and fitting in quite nicely on the estate. You've proven yourself to be a devoted father. It's more than many people base a marriage on."

Tom didn't know what to say. His jaw dropped open and he turned back to the fire before he or anyone else could say a thing. It was true he and Edith were close. Close friends he had thought until this last few weeks when she had pushed him away. His body had reacted to her physically more than once but he had pushed those reactions out of his mind and told himself over and over they were more from lack of female companionship in his life than anything else. He was a single father, living on an estate in a position of authority. He couldn't take up with a local woman to serve his baser needs without becoming the center of scandal and a visit to a prostitute was equally out of the question. The room was spinning and he couldn't think straight. He wasn't even listening to the conversation going on around him. At long last he pushed himself away from the mantle, made his excuses and went upstairs to bed.

He lay staring up in the dark room. Random thoughts kept swirling around in his head. He was fond of Edith certainly, but not fond enough to marry her. They talked about business and farming and accompanied each other to meetings. He had acted as her escort from time to time at the required family functions as they were both single and she was easy to talk to. The few times they had gone to a pub were more about blowing off some steam than anything else. Tom rolled over onto his stomach and pulled his pillow over his head. She wouldn't be back for at least six months. The least he could do was write her a letter saying he understood her reasons for leaving and wishing her well in New York. He determined to write first thing in the morning. He didn't have to think about any of this at the moment. There was always work to be seen to. The best thing about work was it blotted everything about his personal life out of his mind.

A week later after many attempts at a letter that had landed in the grate Tom finally had a letter written that he though suited the situation. He placed it in the tray in the hall and silently crossed his fingers that it was sufficient to patch things up with his sister-in-law and remove the awkwardness that was sure to be present when she returned.

Two weeks had gone by in New York when a letter arrived from Downton in a male hand Edith didn't immediately recognize. As she unfolded the note her eyebrows raised in surprise at the words on the page.

Dear Edith:

You've probably heard by now your grandmother told us all the real reason for your hasty departure a few days after you left. I regret that I did not allow you to explain the morning of your departure. I feel I over reacted to the situation. I also regret that my presence made you the center of gossip. I hope you can believe that it was not intentional on my part.

Don't worry about your involvement in the estate business. Your position will be here waiting for you when you choose to return and if you still wish to be involved. The new brew master will be arriving shortly and Mr. Wilks has the cannery business well in hand.

It is my sincere hope that we may renew our friendship when you return. Please believe me when I say your presence is missed. I sincerely hope you enjoy yourself in New York.

Tom Branson

Edith folded Tom's letter and placed it in her drawer. It did sound as though he had forgiven her for her remarks before she left and understood the predicament she had found herself in. After two weeks of paying calls and going shopping she was already starting to get bored. It was time to talk things over with her American grandmother. She was much more progressive about things than Granny ever would be. "Perhaps I could arrange a tour of one or two canneries or large farms in upstate New York," Edith thought. "There must be all kinds of products produced around here. After all Americans are known for their inventiveness and it will give me something to discuss when I write back." She headed out of her room to find her Grandmother with a bounce in her step and a smile on her face for the first time since she had arrived.