Chapter Twenty Eight

Sybil sat alone in her room on the ground floor of Downton Abbey with her hands tightly clutching her thighs, squeezing, hoping to illicit any kind of feeling, even pain. At dinner that evening she had felt it again, a slow numbness spreading out from her lower back to a tingle down to her knees. She had almost gasped and excusing herself with a headache had asked Carson to push her back to her room. She hadn't dared had a chance to hope, but it had given her a renewed purpose. She knew she hadn't imagined it. That first time that she had felt it pulse through her she had thought she had dreamt it. Now, it was real. She massaged her thighs some more and braced her hand on the side table, willing herself to stand, her arm starting to quiver as she placed more forced down upon it, an unladylike grunt breathing out in the air around her, but try as she might she could not raise herself up. She swiped the water jug off the table in her frustration with an angry shout and collapsed back onto the bed. She heard Finn's voice echo in her ear as she remembered, I meant what I said you know. She thought about him, his face earnestly appealing to hers when he had said it. He had called her darling and told her he loved her. And what did I do! Sybil pounded her fist down on the bed next to her. I sent him away. She felt so utterly alone then, but at the same time a sense of purpose surged through her. She reached into the draw by the bed and pulled out a fresh sheet of writing paper and a pencil and got to work.

Mary made her way ever so slowly to Matthew's room. A feeling of dread flowed through her, like when she had initially felt the loss she had suffered the day before. Would he be angry? She had thought, would he be sad, like she was? A myriad of thoughts went through her mind in a confused jumble. She could still feel the dull ache in her belly and her hand unconsciously made its way down there, pausing briefly, her hand fixed on the door knob before she boldly put on a brave face and stepped into the room.

He was sitting up against the pillows, his arm swathed in bandages as it was strapped tightly to his chest, preventing any movement. The morphine sent a dull numbness through his body, his eyes almost half closed.

"Matthew?" Mary had whispered quietly, sitting down next to him, picking up his one good hand in hers. He opened them and looked at her through a foggy haze.

"Mary? Oh my darling." He whispered, his hand coming tightly around hers, and leaning forward her lips brushed the top of his forehead ever so gently.

"I thought I had lost you."

"I'm not that easily lost," he replied, a glimmer of his former humour sparkling in his eyes, just so relieved to see her.

"Did you hear? Did your mother tell you?" she asked, her eyes imploring his.

He smiled weakly, pulling her towards him, and leaning forward her head came to rest on his stomach. "I know," was all he could say, his hand slowly stroking over her silken hair. She looked up at him forlornly.

"I'm sorry Matthew."

"Shhhh. Don't apologise my love."

Her tears had started again then, and his too, as one escaped from the corner of his eye, flowing slowly down his cheek.

"I'm just so happy to see you. We'll have another chance I promise, and isn't that all that matters?"

"Another chance?" she smiled at him sadly. "Yes." He smiled back at her. He felt his heart ache, but he couldn't show it. He had to be strong, for her.

A week later Sybil had her reply. Doctor James Carnegie's broken and scrawled hand writing was hard for her to make out but there was no doubt about it. He invited her to his clinic in London for more extensive tests. Her Mother had been quite negative about the idea, afraid almost of giving her any hope and appealing to her to accept Clarkson's diagnosis.

"And what does Finn think?" Her father had asked, as he cracked his egg, the knife sawing across, at the same time he grabbed a piece of toast and dunked it in, his eyebrows rising up in a question as the family gathered over breakfast.

"Honestly Robert, why would Major MacDonald have an opinion about it?" Cora had suddenly said, looking disapprovingly at her daughter.

"Why shouldn't he?" Sybil said defensively, "Finn has been such a friend to me. He saved my life, for starters."

Cora looked again at her daughter, her eyes gazing over her critically.

"Don't bother giving me that look." Sybil had exasperated, "Finn has been there for me like no one else…even when…even when there was no hope, he made it clear to me that none of it matter." She quietly whispered.

"What are you saying Sybil? You cannot be serious?" Her mother had practically choked on her tea.

"Why wouldn't I be? Finn is a good man, a gentleman. If I was serious, I couldn't find a better one."

"Are you serious darling? Has he given you any indication?" her father looked at her sincerely.

"I can't walk papa, regardless whether he is serious or not, I will not take that step, pardon the terrible pun."

Her father didn't laugh. "And if Doctor Carnegie should tell you that you will recover, which I pray he will?" His eyes were searching his daughters.

"Why don't we cross that bridge when we come to it," her mother had tried to end the conversation. She hadn't seen it coming and she wasn't going to entertain it. "Attachments can be formed in times of war that, once everyone has their heads again can seem quite…inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?" Sybil was angry. "So Finn is inappropriate now? Why? Why should he be?"

"Oh come now Sybil, he is a very nice young man but really. He's a doctor and, a Scotsman." She had practically whispered the last part as if he might suddenly appear before them with Robert the Bruce, brandishing a claymore.

"Edith!" Sybil appealed to her sister, "we should get going, I don't want us to miss our train to London. Goodbye Mama, I should go before I say something I regret."

"Sybil darling," her mother had beseeched her as Edith wheeled her out of the room, her husband giving her a judgmental look. "Really Cora, sometimes you can be quite unfeeling."

"Oh don't tell me you approve?"

"Approve of what? What we know is that Sybil is going to London to see if she can walk again. I don't think we should look any further along than that." And with that, he got up and followed his daughters out into the hall.

Sybil and Edith spent the next week at Doctor James Carnegie's suites at the Royal Hospital London. He performed numerous tests and implemented a new form of physical therapy overseen by one of his colleagues, an older gentleman by the name of Moore, who as it happened, liked gin a little too much. Sybil didn't care, she did everything they asked of her, despite the pain and discomfort it caused her. One thing was clear, she could feel! And with that knowledge she pushed and pushed herself, hoping it would be enough to see her on her feet again.

The days had been particularly grueling. Doctor Moore had her performing all manner of exercises that left her exhausted. Edith spent most of the time by her side, only leaving at night to retire back to Aunt Rosemund's house in Eaton Square. By the end of day five, Sybil was able to stand on her own and even take a few tentative steps. Relief had flowed through both of them then.

"Well," Doctor Carnegie had declared, "I suppose this makes Finn and I square."

"Square about what?" Sybil looked at him in surprise.

"He didn't tell you? Well, let's just say he has a good right hook. I expect to be invited to the wedding. " He winked cheekily at Edith, whom he spent most of the time flirting uncontrollably with.

"Oh…" Sybil's face fell, "We're not, together. We're not, engaged or anything."

"Really? Well there's a surprise. Had I of known that I wouldn't have sent him a telegram."

"You…you what?"

'I telegrammed him. I'm sorry; I thought you were his fiancé. I didn't tell him much, just that I'm sending you back to Downton tomorrow."

"So we're going home?" Edith had looked almost disappointed.

"Well, you can walk can't you?" he had looked annoyingly at Sybil, "Well, you will, provided you follow my exercises to the letter, morning and night."

"Did he respond?" Sybil looked up at him hopefully but Carnegie was busy looking over another patient's x-ray.

"Who?"

"Finn….Major MacDonald."

"No, but why should he? Turns out you're not engaged."

Sybils face fell. Doctor Carnegie leaned out the door and shouted something to one of the nurses before turning back, completely unaware.

"Well, off you go then. Congratulations you can walk." As he shoed her away with the flick of his wrist.

Edith whispered quietly to Sybil as she wheeled her down the hall. "I can see why Finn doesn't like him much, he's so full of himself!"

"He's an ass." And they both burst out in the fit of giggles.

In another week, Mary, Matthew and Isobel had walked off the hospital ship at Dover. Matthew still had his arm wrapped in a sling but he was well on the road to recovery. When they arrived back at Downton they were greeted with noise and fanfare as the whole family, and servants, came out to greet him. Robert wrapped his arms around them with a warm embrace, Cora had cried and Granny had put her arm gently around Mary's waist and given her a squeeze. They themselves had been relatively quiet through it all, rather a reflection of all they had been through together, and were simply relieved to be home. Later that evening as Robert was retelling a story about how he got one of the new tractors stuck in the mud and ended up head first in a puddle with Isis licking his face, they had all laughed genuinely for the first time since they were married. Mary and Matthew locked eyes across the room and smiled. Yes, they were home for good.

Sybil had arrived home the day before, and they had laughed again with unrestrained happiness when she had stood, shaking by the fireside, but on her own two legs! Robert cried with joy looking at both his daughters, and he knew he had not been so happy in all his life. Suddenly they were pulled out of their laughter by Carson, who had been standing quietly by the door, his cough interrupting their revelry.

"Ahem, I do apologise my Lord, but a guest has just arrived. I told him it was far too late but he was insistent."

"Who is it Carson?" The Earl had said, his happy voice trailing across the room.

"Major MacDonald sir."

"Tell him it's too late to be calling at this hour Carson," Cora had said disdainfully, while Granny had merely looked at her and raised her eyebrows in some kind of amusement.

"Findlay? Nonsense. Show him in." the Earl stood to greet the Major, who was smartly dressed in his uniform of a dark green and blue tartan kilt and black dress jacket, the Black Grouse tail feathers protruding from his cap badge. He stood ramrod straight, from nerves mostly, as he entered the warm library. Immediately a smile crept over his face as he saw Sybil, standing by the fireplace.

Her eyes drifted up over him slowly, taking him in, relishing the sight of him from the depth of his scarlet garter flashes, up the flesh of his naked thighs, lean and muscular, past his sporran to his tightly fitted jacket that pulled across his chest, the gold crowns on his shoulders denoting his rank, his hands clasped behind him as if he were at attention. His dark hair was slicked back under his cap and his green eyes softened when he saw her. She blushed. It was as if everyone in the room suddenly became silent, and they were the only ones there. He felt his body relax as he looked at her.

"There now you see, I told you you would walk again," he said, almost in a whisper. He swallowed thickly as Robert embraced him, and he stood to attention again as if it would help him gain more courage. He turned to the Earl.

"I do apologise for interrupting Lord Grantham, but I have just come back from France and it couldnae wait." He had had his speech all prepared while on the three hour train journey from London. He glanced over at Sybil again before turning back to Robert, nervously. "I wondered…whether I could…steal a moment of your time?"

The room was silent, in a kind of surprise for a brief instant, before Sybil's voice echoed across to him, ever so quietly.

"Yes."

He turned back to her, surprised. "Yes?" He asked in return, his eyes desperately searching hers, unable to look away in case he broke the spell.

"Yes, I'll marry you." She took a sharp intake of breath waiting for him to respond, and in three quick strides he had crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her. Slowly his hands came up to cup her face as he breathed a sigh of relief against her lips. He looked at her so lovingly, his mouth only inches away, his breath coming out in a ragged exhale before he gently brushed them over hers ever so tenderly, and again, and then again when suddenly another cough echoed across the room, this time from Granny, her voice full of surprise and amusement.

"Well, it seems the castle walls have been breached my Lord, the Scots have sacked Downton."

Finn suddenly spun around, embarrassed, his hand holding onto Sybil's and he apologised, nervously, as if it could all be suddenly taken away.

Robert, seeing his discomfort, smiled, and merely said, "you my have permission," before going over to embrace them. Cora didn't get a chance to protest, the noise of Robert and Mary and Matthew, and even Granny, hugging and congratulating them filled the room and surrounded the happy couple.

Bit late on delivery, sorry about that. One more chapter to go and it is complete!