SURPRISE! It's another speedy update ;oP
Ok, have y'all recovered from chapter 24? *innocent whistling* well compared to that chapter THIS CHAPTER is *much* tamer (you be the judge if that's good or bad), and AHHH! THE BRITISH ARE COMING, THE BRITISH ARE COMING! In this sense, the Crawley sisters (and Anna) are coming! But don't worry, Sybil will do a little reminiscing about...recent events, as requested by an Anon reviewer, so I hope you all enjoy this interlude before the "invasion of the Crawley sisters" hits Dublin!
Chapter Twenty-Five
June 4, 1919
Oh God, I'm terrified.
…
There, I said it. I'm actually terrified about tomorrow. Not exactly the sort of thing I thought I would be thinking after finally seeing my sisters again, but…well, there you have it.
But yes, I am so nervous, just…I don't know what to expect! On the one hand I'm happy to see Mary and Edith and Anna again, and I'm hoping and praying that by the time I do see them walk off the boat tomorrow, I'll be so delighted at the sight of them, that I'll forget all about these silly fears and just…push my way through the crowd until I'm half-way up the gangplank and throwing my arms around them…
While on the other hand, I cannot deny, there is a part of me that is dreading it. Oh Lord, I hate this! I hate feeling like this, I hate having these doubts, but God help me, I do!
…
…
I mean, I'm not expecting Mary or Edith to say anything rude, not purposefully anyway, but…it took so long for Tom's mother to come around to me, and she's a very proud woman, and…I honestly don't know what she'll think of them. Edith she could probably bend to her submission if she so willed it, but Mary? Mary will be the picture of politeness, but her looks, her tone can chill the sun if she so wished it, and Margaret may misinterpret their…"Englishness"…with snobbery, and…oh God, it could all be a disaster tomorrow.
…
Tom assures me that he'll make sure to keep his family "in line", at least from saying anything that might be perceived to be taken as "rude", but…I know the Bransons, and just like Mary and Edith, I know they would never say or do anything purposefully rude, but at the same time things could be misinterpreted, just as I mentioned before and…and…
…
Oh heaven help me, Tom is right, I'm worrying far, far too much about this. I'm letting these fears cloud my vision and keeping me from being happy about finally seeing my sisters again. I mean…they've come because they want to see me! They want to celebrate in our marriage! I know that Mary doesn't necessarily agree with my decisions, nor does she support them completely, but…but she does love me and that's why she's coming. And she wants to see me happy, and I will be—I know I will be, because it's Tom! And I do love him, so very, very much.
…
Despite what Granny and my parents have decided, my sisters have chosen to come and be with me on this day, I must keep that in mind, despite all my worries, I must remember that.
…
However, I must confess I am not feeling very charitable towards our parents, and therefore I will have very little patience to listening to either Mary or Edith talk about how much Mama and Papa and Granny "wish they could be here". If they truly wished that, they would find a way to come. And despite what Mary's letter said, I'm sorry, but…but I do not believe Granny or Mama are so ill or delicate that they cannot travel, and there was NO mention of Papa, so whatever his excuse is…
…
…
I shouldn't focus on these things, they only make me angry. I just…I need to focus on the positives, that in three days I'll be married, and I will have the chance to celebrate that moment with people I love, from Tom's family, to my sisters.
…
But I'm still nervous, I cannot deny.
Tom's mother is very keen on my family at the moment. I know it comes from a loving place. When she learned that my parents weren't coming, she came up and embraced me (the second time, since Declan's birth) and murmured something about how I did have family, family who valued me…and…and I don't know how I managed, but somehow I was able to keep myself from bursting into tears then, because it truly was the sweetest thing she has ever said to me, thus far, and…and I did feel valued, I did feel cherished then, and so honored that she thought me not only worthy of her son, but also worthy of her family's love.
…I know that Mary once murmured how she was…well, perhaps "afraid" isn't the right word, but she was…"concerned"…that I would let the Bransons replace our family. But the sad truth is, I feel in many ways as if my family has…given me up…see me as nothing more than a "lost cause", and pretending I no longer exist because I'm such a "disappointment" to them (a cautionary tale that mothers will whisper to their daughters; "don't be like that Sybil Crawley!") After receiving that letter, I can't help but feel as if I've been abandoned, but the Bransons…even though at first they viewed me with wariness, have truly…welcomed and embraced me and I feel both acceptance and love.
Am I being selfish? I mean, I know this was very difficult for Papa to understand, but…but I am still his child! And wouldn't a parent want nothing more than for their child to be happy? Even if that means living a life that's very different from their own?
Anyway, as I mentioned above, Tom's mother is not exactly keen on any member of my family at the moment, including my sisters, even though they have decided to come. And that's why I feel so much anxiety, I must admit. I just…I fear that Mrs. Branson will see their actions, as innocent as they are, as insults. For example, Mary and Edith are staying at the Shelbourne, which…upon hearing this, Tom's mother made a face and muttered the words "hoity-toity", before remarking that maybe they would feel stepping inside her "humble home" to be far a step beneath them—at which point, Tom hissed her name and gave her a fierce look, which I cannot deny I'm rather grateful for. Not that I fault for his mother entirely for her speculations (and I do believe she's making them more in light of Mary's letter) but…oh Lord, Mary and Edith don't know it yet, but Friday evening is the bridal shower, and of course they'll be invited, but it will be held here at the house, along with other members of Tom's family, and I just…I dread the thought of both my sisters and his family making various "assumptions" about the other based on appearance alone!
…Is it still too late to elope?
…
According to Mary's latest letter, their boat is scheduled to arrive sometime between two and three in the afternoon. Tom is going in earlier than usual tomorrow, and will work until two, then we will go to the docks to greet them. Mr. Quinn has graciously given him a four-day weekend, and we'll both go back to work on Tuesday after the wedding.
…
Only we'll both be leaving from our flat…and we'll be leaving as Mr. and Mrs. Branson.
…
…I am going to be Mrs. Branson!
I wonder if I will have to remind Sister Claire when I see her on Tuesday to start calling me "Nurse Branson" when she addresses me? Oh Lord, I wonder if I will respond if she does call me that! But I can't stop grinning at the thought…Sybil Branson…Nurse Sybil Branson...
I will have to remember to address my letters thus so! And I know just who to write to first…
To Lord and Lady Grantham
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire
From Mrs. Sybil Branson
Mountjoy Square, Dublin
Oh God, I can't stop laughing! I can just imagine Papa's face; I can just imagine Granny's! They will no doubt pale and look at one another, thinking "where did we go wrong?" But I don't care, I really don't, in fact, I'm beyond caring. I am proud, so proud, to take Tom's name and become Sybil Branson. And if they still have a problem with that, well…to quote Granny, they can put that in their pipe and smoke it!
So yes, Mary and Edith and Anna will arrive tomorrow afternoon, and after traveling with them to the Shelbourne, we shall show them the flat before finally coming here to Tom's mother's house for supper.
…
…
And God give me strength not to burst into flames from the fire of my blush when I do show them the flat, especially the bedroom. My body still trembles as I remember that day…
…
…
…I can't wait for Saturday night! Oh I can't wait for the day itself, the whole day, but…but yes, I am very much looking forward to the night, where he and I can…resume…where we left off, only this time, we'll both shed each other completely of our clothes, and where I will ask him that question again, and hopefully (though I do think he will) I can "return the favor" which he bestowed upon me, and finally, poor Tom will not have to suffer another moment longer.
Oh God in heaven, I want to do that for him so badly. I want to touch him, to…to run my fingers over him, to feel him in my hands, to feel him tremble against my palms, to stroke him and make him feel as good as he made me feel if not better…
…
…And who knows? Perhaps I will surprise him? Maybe I'll feel so bold and…and…
…
…
Well, one step at a time. I must remind myself that. And there's no rush; we'll have the entire night after all!
…And Sunday.
…And Monday.
Alright, we'll have to make some time for Mary and Edith, at the very least I need to see them off on Monday when they leave for England, but…well, I do not think Tom and I could be faulted if we rush back to our flat to continue!
Oh, I am so happy we decided to have the wedding night in our new home. Tom did ask me (before…well, before that day) if I wanted to spend the wedding night in a hotel. Nothing like the Shelbourne, of course, but…someplace nice, where we could indulge in ringing up some champagne if we so wished. But I shook my head and murmured no; no, I truly cannot imagine a better place than our home.
Our home. And our bed shall truly become our marriage bed, where we will consummate our love, fully and completely, and when we do succumb to sleep, we shall truly be husband and wife in every sense a man and woman can be.
Yes, I truly cannot imagine a better place.
…
…
It's funny, when I think about it. I do find myself wondering if like me, Tom has written about that day in his journal. We haven't really spoken about it since, though we have exchanged knowing looks and our fingers have played together under his mother's table, other than that, we haven't said a word, not that I think that's bad or anything. In many ways, it feels like we are in possession of a hidden secret, one that only we know about (which is true, thank God!) But…I don't know if it's necessary, to talk about, I mean. Because knows that I loved it (and I'm eager to do it again!) and I know he loved it too…and I feel no shame, nor he, and…and really, the only question I have for him (though I'm fairly certain of the answer) is "what did you do after we parted ways and said goodnight?"
This does make me giggle. I might ask him this on Saturday. But after, of course. When we're both lying in each other's arms, panting and recovering.
Yes…I think that would be the perfect time.
Thank you for reading! Please continue to share your thoughts! Next up...Sybil and her sisters are reunited at last