Late Hours

Brancaster went quiet and dark not long after dinner. Lord Sinderby's outburst had dampened everyone's mood and before anyone else could excuse themselves, after personally thanking everyone for attending Lady Sinderby informed her guests they would be going up explaining the day's preparations had left her more fatigued than she realized, and as she leaned on Lord Sinderby's arm it was as if it was his cue to add that he wanted to be in the best form for welcoming the next round of guests they expected but they graciously extended the invitation for the others to stay and converse in the saloon and he would leave it to Atticus to oversee any other requests. He nodded toward his son transferring the responsibility to him, and then wished everyone a good night. Lord and Lady Grantham announced they were following suit, Cora blaming all the exercise of the day and Robert his desire to be "in top form for these younger men accompanying them at the next hunt" insuring the idea with plenty of rest. But Mary, Tom, and Edith all looked at one another, they knew the real reason. Hearing their host shouting over dinner in such harsh tones had set all of them on edge. The table conversation had almost dwindled into nonexistence afterwards and Lord Sinderby made no efforts to improve matters. The rest of the meal continued in a tense joyless atmosphere, everyone's appetite failed even though the day's exertions had left them hungry. As the young people withdrew into the saloon Edith saw her opportunity and as she entered the golden room glowing in the welcoming lamp light she stopped just inside the entrance and said suddenly,

"You know I really ought to go up myself, I have some things I'd like to finish before tomorrow."

Mary didn't care if she left or not but could not resist quizzing her, "What things are you talking about?"

There had already been enough rivalry for one night and Tom looked as if he might speak up but Atticus asked instead, "Is it for your magazine?

Edith glanced at Tom before answering Atticus, "Yes as a matter of fact it is. Indirectly of course."

Atticus continued, how could he be a good host if he couldn't even keep this small party together, "Are you going to write about the castle ? If so I'll make sure you get to talk with the agent tomorrow."

Mary was tired of Edith still standing there and Atticus's interest in the magazine so she said, "You do know Edith doesn't write for the magazine."

Edith cocked her head to one side ready for Mary's criticisms and put downs, suddenly wishing she had just followed the rest up for the evening. Tom put out a halting hand saying defensively, "That's not entirely true, Edith does write for the magazine."

Before Edith could acknowledge or disprove the statement Mary acted as if she were appealing to the room, "She writes one column, it's not like she writes for the entire paper."

Rose stood beside her husband twisting her handkerchief, she knew her cousins rows and while not interested in yet another quarrel this evening she was at a loss how to stop this one.

Edith spoke up sadly but with an end to the topic which she could see Mary getting riled to continue, "Well it wouldn't matter Mary, because you would never read it."

Mary responded with cat like reflexes, "Why on earth would I want to read anything you write? What on earth could you possibly have to say that would be of any interest to anyone?"

Atticus looked nervously at Tom for suggestions about handling this new battle and Tom just looked compassionately at Edith whom he knew only wanted to go and relax so he said, "Well then maybe you should. But since she is just going up, we'll say goodnight to you."

Edith relieved to finally have an exit gave a tight smile to everyone and said appreciatively, "Yes, goodnight and thank you Atticus, Tom." She nodded at Rose and looked sadly at Mary who was looking away from her. Rose glanced between them both and murmured, "Goodnight" and then added with more enthusiasm, "Remember we get to tour the castle tomorrow. Since they're not shooting."

Edith turned, her apricot dress, the filigree and beadwork sparkling against the light in the saloon and the dimly lighted backdrop of the hall. Her soft voice responded, "Yes, thank you Rose I'm looking forward to seeing more of the castle." She looked between the three of them each with the hint of a smile in their eyes and said more warmly, "Goodnight"

As soon as she was out of range Mary asked, "A game of Quadrille?"

Tom looked at the now empty space where Edith had been standing and agreed but promised, "One game, then I'm done for the night."

Mary looked at him caustically saying, "We'll see about that."

And the four sat down, the conversation being lead by Mary questioning Rose and Atticus about the other guests arriving during the course of the next day, until Rose broke the news to them about the plans to go to America. Tom took an eager interest in the subject since he had similar plans himself and they had a lively conversation. Tom suddenly realizing that Rose and Atticus had put more thought into their plans and future than he had, and at that point he sunk into a kind a quiet solemness for the rest of the game. Mary suggested drinks but even that did not lead Tom out of his troubled thoughts. And Mary realizing the night was over decided to quickly play her best move so that the game would end, best try to start fresh the next day, this one had very little to salvage. Tom who had little interest in playing to begin with, let Mary win and pushed back from the table. Atticus and Rose meanwhile felt very mature and grownup feeling as if they had won some kind of game themselves, feeling suddenly very worldly wise, and experienced, realizing that Mary was too stuck in securing the past and that Tom who was known to be a rule breaker was in fact not quite as courageous as they all once considered him to be, and on that note, the mood changed in the room and the weighty evening suddenly became even heavier but on a personal level that had everyone withdraw into themselves. And when Tom stood up and said, "I'm done for." As much as he was liked no one argued or tried to persuade him to stay longer but Mary said, "Well, it hasn't been much of a night," then turning to Rose and Atticus, who Rose had her arms wrapped around, she tossed her head and an apology saying, "No offense, to your parents Atticus."

Atticus shrugged not seeing why it was thought there was reason for one and said factually, "None taken."

Tom smiled at his genuineness and said, "Goodnight all."

And as he left the room Mary who was about to follow but never one to admit defeat asked instead, "Tell me more about Mr. Henry Talbot, you mentioned he was involved in some kind of motor racing scheme."

Those words floated in the darkened hallway as Tom neared the stairs, he shook his head, Mary always found her angle. Once at the top of the stairs he headed to his room passing Lord and Lady Grantham's room their voices a low murmur of conversation past the heavy door. Edith's room a little way down from that, the glow of lamp light edging into the dim hallway past the around the tight door frame, Tom stopped for a moment, considered tapping at the door but changed his mind and continued down the hall to his room at the end. He opened the door, the fire had the room warm and inviting, a floorlamp brightened up a room which the heavy mahogany furnishings and rust colored draperies made dark even during the day. As Tom pulled off his dinner jacket and took the pin from his shirtfront before removing it, having told Barrow he would attend to himself, and pulled his tie loose he noticed a bottle on a side table near the lamp with a note folded beside of it. He immediately recognized the bottle and intrigued as well as surprised he walked over to the table, his white the still draped loosely around his neck. He picked up the bottle of Jameson Irish whiskey and held onto it while picking up the note, with a feminine scrawl saying,

"Please accept this token of our esteem and regret for any unpleasantness you may have experienced" and it was signed Atticus and Rachel respectively. Tom was touched and some of the wounded pride he had experienced dissipated, but he knew the real fault lay with Lord Sinderby and his butler, if he had spoken up earlier he would have put an end to the whole ugly business, but as it was here was Tom standing with a bottle of Ireland's best whiskey in his hand. He knew in the mood he was in it was best not to drink this alone. He stood a moment turning the bottle over in his hands, remembering the smell, the color, taste, the smoothness, and the warmth. He picked up his empty water glass and with the bottle in his hand he quietly exited his room into the dim empty hallway. In a matter of a few strides he was at Lady Edith's door.