Chapter 26

The months following the wedding were a little strange, the come down, which always follows an event that had been so anticipated, reached into every corner of the house. Matthew and Mary went off on their honeymoon and were waved off by the staff and family, Matthew driving the car just as Tom had taught him.

Lillie grew like a weed and Sybil couldn't help but be struck by the feeling that she was different every morning when she woke for her first feed. Her face wore a new expression or her hair appeared a little curlier or her legs longer. She was so different already to the tiny baby she had cradled against her chest, exhausted from an unrelenting labour, as she introduced her husband to their daughter. She became the light in the house, filling the void left by the preparations for the wedding and making everyone forget the awful weeks that had lead up to it, with Sybil seemingly on the edge of life, tucked away in her childhood bedroom and visited twice daily by Dr Clarkson.

September, with it's long warm days amidst evenings and early mornings of biting cold, gave in to October – a month which seemed to plunge the world into a wintery darkness. Tom wrote a lot; articles for papers and journals and letters to his Ma and more frequently Francis. Routines were settled into as the days shortened and the house grew colder. He would write in his study, through much of the day, trying to take advantage of the light. His evenings were for his family and he relished seeing them together, as Sybil fed their daughter and laid her down to bed. Sybil and Lillie would spend their days with Edith, who was perhaps more smitten with the baby than had been expected, and Cora who voiced her need to 'make the most of every minute with her.'

The return to Ireland was on the horizon; their tickets were booked for early November with a promise to return at Christmas, to, as the Dowager Countess had put it 'make up for last year.' Sybil was beginning to feel it would be nice to return home, to Dublin, to be back in their own house and to introduce Lillie into the fold of her Papa's family.

Matthew and Mary returned from the continent looking sun kissed and happy and worry-free. Their month alone, out exploring both the big world and one another, had clearly suited them. They returned to the big house initially, intending to move into the village once things were settled and Tom enjoyed that company of a man his own age and Sybil thoroughly enjoyed having her eldest sister back, hearing her stories, hearing of all the places she had been, all the adventures she and Matthew had been on.

Mary bounced Lillie in her arms, marveling about how changed she was. The baby smiled up at her aunt, a new trick she had been delighting people with over the last week, and Mary cooed at her. Sybil saw Tom raise an eyebrow at Matthew who took a sip from his drink, suddenly looking at the floor; she couldn't help but laugh at the exchange between the two. Lillie began to fuss, ready for a feed and she screwed her face up ready to cry.

Mary looked to Sybil, slightly alarmed. The onlookers turned to her too; Cora and Isobel with a knowing smile and the Dowager Countess with a look that seem to express her dismay that the infant was not keeping to the etiquette of the room. Robert engaged Matthew in conversation then, asking him about the honeymoon, wondering if Paris had changed.

"She's just hungry." Sybil held out her hand to Mary, who rose carefully, tentative with the weight of the baby in her arms. "Come with me Mary, you can tell me all about France. We won't be long." Mary followed her and Sybil brushed her hand against Tom's as she left the room, leaving him next to the safe company of her mother.

"Take her Sybil, I don't want hurt her." They had arrived at the foot of the stairs and Mary had hesitated, looking down at Lillie who was still squealing, her face now the colour of beetroot.

Sybil looked at her sister and the awkward way in which she was holding Lillie against her chest. She took the baby from her and instantly Lillie began to nuzzle against her chest, smelling the milk on her. "You wouldn't drop her Mary, she's a robust little thing. Although I'm only learning now that I needn't treat her like glass." Mary stroked the hair on the baby's head as the climbed the stairs and Lillie gripped the finger she offered her in her tiny fist. It placated her somewhat and by the time they were in Sybil's room her fussing had quieted to a series of little frustrated snorts.

"She likes you." Sybil looked up at Mary, who had settled on the end of the bed, as she sat in the chair by the fireplace and set about unbuttoning her blouse. Lillie's face began to screw up in preparation to wail, to let the world know she was still hungry but Sybil was able to get her to latch on before she began her cries. The sound of her hungry sucking was a welcome substitute.

Mary had averted her eyes at first, feeling the need to keep some of Sybil's modesty, but Sybil continued to talk to her, asking about Paris and the journey through to the south. And Mary found her eyes settling on the baby; the back of her head resting on Sybil's forearm, her dark curls brushing her mother's skin. One starfish hand was flung upward and rested just below Sybil's collarbone, she held it, bringing it to her mouth and pressing a kiss into her daughter's palm. Sybil looked up, Mary's silence, her lack of involvement in the conversation, gaining her attention.

"Mary?" Sybil held out her free arm to her sister, "Are you alright Mary?"

"She's so perfect Sybil." Mary moved over and sat on the arm of Sybil's chair, watching the baby's cheeks move as they worked to fill her belly. "So, so perfect. She's like a little person now. I know that must sound odd, but before we left it was hard to think of her as anything but a bundle of blankets. And with you so ill I couldn't see the way you made one another light up in the way you do." Sybil turned her head to look at Mary's face, to see the sincerity in her older sister's eyes. "Gosh, if only we could have seen this a year ago, I've no doubt if Papa had known how happy you would be, the three of you, he wouldn't have put quite as much energy into being disapproving of you. We are so ashamed of him for that, I hope you know that. You were not the only one disappointed in him for not attending your wedding."

Sybil squeezed Mary's hand in her own, touched that her sister knew, had given thought to how that might have felt. To have a gaping whole in your wedding where a father's steady arm and proud smile ought to be.

Mary sat patiently while Sybil finished Lillie's feed, winded her and changed her nappy; she watched everything carefully, studying the interaction between mother and daughter and holding onto the baby's little hands as she was stripped of her dirty clothes, the cool air on her skin startling her into tears.

Mary settled in the chair by the fire with the baby in her arms; Lillie had drifted into a contented sleep once she was bundled up in blankets, warming her cold limbs. Sybil stood back and watched her sister with her daughter; Mary looked down at the baby intensely, studying every detail of her face.

It saddened Sybil slightly that Mary would likely never have the quiet moments like this. There would be nursemaids and governesses for her children no doubt. It was tradition and it would likely be adhered to due to the judging eyes of their Granny and society. The weight of expectation on Mary and her abilities as not only a mother but a producer of male heirs to the estate must have been overwhelming. Sybil counted her blessings that Lillie's birth had not been cloaked in expectation of a boy, the house thrown into poorly masked disappointment or overwhelming relief and joy once the gender of the baby was revealed. Mary would have that. At least not until she had a son. No matter how hard everyone tried to disguise it, there would be expectation – a need for her to produce the next earl. It seemed such a shame to taint it, such a wonderful thing as a birth, of a girl or a boy, with something as heavy as inheritance.

"You look perfect." Sybil sighed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mary looked up at her and blushed. "We do?"

Sybil nodded and took up Mary's position on the arm of the chair. "When you are blessed Mary, with a little one, don't let them talk you into anything you don't want for the sake of being 'proper'. It may be their heir, societies future earl or whatever, but it will be your child. No matter what the future holds for it, it will always be that."

Mary looked up at Sybil, confused, but the look in her younger sisters eyes told her not to question, that she would understand one day. That it would be advice worth taking.

Another chapter to follow right away, was initially going to put them up as one but they didn't fit together at all, so although they are shorter you get double today! This one was a bit waffley, but needed to show the passing of time since the wedding. LP. x