Sybil could almost sense Branson's letter as Carson handed out the family's letters at breakfast the next morning. How would he react to news the of the baby? Was he still alright?
"For you milady." Carson calmly handed her the letter before handing Lord Grantham his newspaper. Sybil couldn't bear to wait to see what he'd written, so she jammed all her food into her mouth (at the expense of her dignity) until her mouth was almost overflowing. Chewing and swallowing, she gulped down her glass of water before a simple,
"Excuse me!" Could be heard coming from her food-filled mouth. She leapt up from her seat and headed towards the door. At this very moment, her father's face turned cold and pale as he looked up from his newspaper to his youngest running away with a look of sympathy. He contemplated calling her name and telling her something important, but she was already out the door by the time he'd made his decision.
Sybil pushed open her door and landed on her bed, snuggling up to read her husband's letter. She tore open the seal and began reading,
"My darling Sybil,
What wonderful news! I can't tell you what joy you've brought me over here, and all the other lads who I spend this war with. We see so much death in the trenches that it's amazing to think that back home, our baby is happily growing inside of you. I'm sure you make a superior hostess! The more I think about you, the more comfort seems to wash over me. I can still remember what it was like to hold your hand, to kiss your lips. They taste of the finest wine! I long to be with you again. The Huns are constantly closing in on us my dear, but I don't want you to worry_"
She was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in." Sybil sighed as she placed the letter on the bed and sat up.
"Sybil." Lord Grantham walked in.
"Papa! I have a letter from Branson. He says the baby is wonderful news! It's nice to hear of new life in this time of death he says." She stopped in her verbal tracks. She saw her father's worried look and she saw the paper in his hand. Her mind went wild at the thought of what he wanted to say.
"Sybil, it's Branson." She snatched the paper from his hand.
"No…no no! It can't be, please tell me it isn't!" Her voice breaking as she turned to the right pages. Her eyes filled up as she found the page and searched for his name.
Branson, Corporal Thomas-Wounded.
She let out an enormous sigh of relief, but she couldn't stop the tears from falling as she threw the paper back in her father's face.
"I'll leave you alone." The reassuring tone of her father's voice made no difference to her mood. She picked up his letter again and began reading from where she stopped.
"About me. I feel God's presence and all his angels and whatever happens, I'll come home one day. I don't know when, but one day I'll see you and our beautiful baby at home in Downton.
Your loving husband,
Tom"
She got up and placed the soggy piece of paper in her draw with all his other letters and walked downstairs. She needed fresh air and the sight of the stunning grounds, not sympathy. How bad were his injuries? Would he survive? Would he ever come home? All these questions were being tossed and tumbled in her mind. She didn't necessarily want to know all the answers; just reassurance from Tom.
