A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, etc., for the last chapter. All of it is greatly appreciated. Thanks also to those reviewing for the first time. I hope you choose to continue to review. Thanks to those who pointed out typos, they have been fixed.
I want to especially thank my wonderful betas: Tripp3235, mswainwright and _livingfree (on Twitter) (currently in absentia due to schooling). Without these wonderful people, who listen to me gripe and have the patience to slog through chapter after chapter despite their busy lives, the quality of every aspect of this story would be much poorer indeed! :)
Disclaimer: Not mine. All Downton Abbey characters belong to Julian Fellowes and ITV. I'm just playing with them.
Chapter 28
Tom was quite surprised that evening, when Sybil told him about Dr. Byrne knowing Dr. Clarkson and Dr. Reginald Crawley. At first, he was alarmed when Sybil told him that Dr. Byrne had deduced who she was until Sybil pointed out that Dr. Byrne never divulged her own gender unless she had no choice and then had to concede the point. It was then that Tom mentioned that he would likely work late the following night as he didn't want to be late for Friday evening when the bed would be delivered.
The mail came on Thursday morning with a letter from Mary sent from Hylands. The outer envelope contained only the return address and Sybil was simply addressed as Sybil Crawley with no title. When Sybil took a short break to make tea for Mrs. Branson and herself, she opened the letter and read it while she waited for the kettle to boil.
Monday, May 12, 1919
Hylands Park,
Hylands, Essex
My dear Sybil,
I am writing to you from Hylands where the Gooches are having a last reunion of friends before they put the house on the market. With Peter having been killed at the Battle of Gallipoli, Sir Daniel and Lady Gooch wanted to put some distance between them and the property but since Hylands like Downton was requisitioned as a military hospital, this was not possible until now. It's a shame considering how much they've done to modernize the house. You will remember attending the wedding of Mr. Claude Graham-White here.
Since I arrived last week, it has been a whirlwind of activity. We've had a cricket match and a tennis match, and there is to be a shooting party tomorrow and a Armistice and Demobilisation Dance at the end of the week to celebrate the end of the war. Richard will be joining me on Friday and then we travel together to London on Saturday where I will be staying with Aunt Rosamund for a few days before returning to Downton.
How are you settling in Dublin? Is it as you had hoped? Richard asked specifically that I convey to you that our wedding gift to you will be a twelve set of cutlery which I am to choose when I am in London next week. No doubt Mama will have told you. I expect that it will be of use to you in your new life. I'm looking forward to seeing you again for your wedding. I'm sorry if I didn't convey that when you left, but I fear that I've not been quite myself since our deadly encounter with the Spanish flu, but fear not, as a few more days at Hylands will restore me as I ever was.
With that, I will close my letter and send it off with the afternoon post.
Your loving sister,
Mary
Sybil folded the letter and placed it on the table before getting up to make the tea now that the water had boiled. Mrs. Branson was finished on the sewing machine for now and seated at the table.
"How does your sister fare?" asked Mrs. Branson while she was cutting off the threads at the ends of a seam. "This is your eldest sister, I take it?"
"Yes, Mary is my eldest sister," said Sybil, picking up her dress again after she set the tea to steep. All the machine work was now completed and Sybil used her mornings to do the intensive hand sewing to finish it off. "She's enjoying herself at our friends' home for a much needed restorative. I had been waiting for her to write and I'm glad that she has."
"You must miss her," said Mrs. Branson while she worked to turn a section inside out.
"I do," said Sybil with a sigh. "But I'm not likely to live near her again, so her letters will have to do."
"When you marry, there's bound to be a change in how often you see your sisters, even if you are living near one another," said Mrs. Branson, starting to sew something by hand. "My sisters all live within a five minute walk from here, but after I married, I'd only see them on special holidays and now that we all have families of our own, only at Mass or for baptisms, weddings and funerals."
"I suppose," said Sybil, looking up at Mrs. Branson. "Though Mary has always been a diligent correspondent at least with me."
"Is she not engaged to be married as well?" asked Mrs. Branson, looking at Sybil.
"Yes, to Sir Richard Carlisle," said Sybil. "Though I still don't know what she sees in him."
"Be that as it may," said Mrs. Branson, holding up the dress to see how it fell. "I'm sure that she's occupied with various things for her upcoming nuptials. How are you faring with the button loops? I thought this style would be nicer on a wedding dress than the plain old buttonholes."
"I've done about three-quarters of them," said Sybil as she pulled the thread from the spool to rethread the needle. "I think I should be done by tomorrow. What else is left?"
"We still have to hem the skirt and after we do a final fitting the week of the wedding, we will likely have to close the side seams as I left a little room in case it was needed," said Mrs. Branson. "There's still the headdress to finish, but I don't think it will take very long once I can find some white flowers to add to it. If we can't by mid-next week, we may have to make our own fabric flowers. I want your dress to be done the week before your family arrives. I hope you don't mind."
"This dress is absolutely beautiful," said Sybil. "How could I possibly mind that we are making our own fabric flowers for my headdress when I had planned to be married just in a dress made for a different wedding?"
"I just thought I'd ask," said Mrs. Branson. "It wasn't how I had described it to you when I showed you my designs."
Sybil smiled. "How much remains of Cathleen's dress?"
"Most of the pieces are together," said Mrs. Branson. "We need to finish the cuffs, add a little embroidery, hem the skirt and add the buttons and buttonholes. For hers, we'll stick with the plain buttons, so those won't take more than an hour."
"I can't believe we made two lovely dresses in such a short time," said Sybil. "When you made the original offer, I thought that we might be able to do one dress but not two, especially since I'm doing a bit of the hand sewing."
"That machine is what makes the difference," said Mrs. Branson, referring to her sewing machine. "When I first started, everything was done by hand and it took at least twice as long. After Declan passed and I decided to take in sewing, I used the life insurance from his work to buy the machine so I could get more done in the time I had. My sisters thought I was wasting my money, but Cathleen and Connor were too young to leave for very long, and to support us I knew how much I needed to take in a week. The first few years were difficult, but we managed."
"I don't know what I'd do if something were to happen to Tom," said Sybil wistfully. "I suppose I would have to return to Downton. I often wondered how war widows managed especially with young children. I guess like Molly, they would need help from family."
"You know you have another choice, Sybil dear," said Mrs. Branson as she looked at Sybil from above her glasses. "If anything were to happen to Tom, you and any little ones are always welcome to stay with me. It wouldn't be like living in your childhood home, but we could always make it work."
"Thank you," said Sybil. "It's good to know that more than one choice is available." She then got up to pour and make the tea now that it had steeped.
Friday came quickly for Sybil as she spent the previous evening working on her gift for Mrs. Branson since Tom would not be stopping by that evening. The weather was cooperating as the bed was to be delivered and Sybil would rather that it not be rained on. That morning, she left with Tom and they walked to the flat to drop off his valise before walking him to his office. She spent the morning sweeping it up, mopping the bedroom again and putting up the curtains.
The delivery lads arrived around eleven o'clock and took slightly more than the full hour to carefully bring up every piece and assemble it. When it was done, Sybil was so happy, she tipped them a thruppence each and gave them each a cookie she had made earlier in the week for working into their lunch.
After she ate her own lunch, she carefully made the bed. Once the bedspread was on, Sybil took off her shoes and gave it a try. While it wasn't the same as her bed at Downton, the mattress was delightfully soft. She also tried imagining Tom sleeping beside her, holding her as he had that night in Liverpool except that there would be no bedcovers between them. That, of course, brought the thought of the other things that they would be doing on this bed to mind, which caused a blush to creep across her cheeks.
Though her nursing course had discussed the male anatomy and her experiences in the war had given her glimpses of the male anatomy in the flesh, aside from the occasional feel of Tom's desire through clothing while they kissed, Sybil had no other experiences with what exactly couples did in the privacy of their own bedroom. She wondered if she would enjoy it as much as discussions on sins of the flesh would seemed to indicate or would it be a duty as some women implied in stuffy drawing rooms. From her experiences in kissing Tom, she hoped that it would be the former and not the latter. As she had been taught that it was something that only married couples were allowed to do without sin and while Tom had some experience with intimate relations, in her mind, when the time came for them, they would be married.
After some time for reverie and contemplation, Sybil realized that it was getting close to the time Tom would be arriving from work and she blushed to think that he would find her in their bed dreaming away. So she quickly fixed her hair since lying on the pillows would without a doubt have caused it to become messier than it would have been otherwise. Then, she carefully straighten the bedcovers and not a moment too soon for as she pulled the last crease from the bedspread, she heard the sound of the front door being unlocked from the other side.
Feeling guilty with the thoughts that had been occupying her mind, Sybil went quickly back out into the main room and picked up the broom to start sweeping before the door opened to reveal Tom.
Sybil smiled at Tom as she continued sweeping. "Hello! How was your day at work?"
When he opened the door and saw Sybil sweeping, Tom was struck by the comforting feeling of home. Since starting in service years before, Tom had always felt an outsider, especially since he was the chauffeur and often didn't eat with the household staff. As he had been sleeping in his brother's sofa since returning to Dublin several weeks before, he certainly wasn't feeling at home there. The lack of furnishings mattered not. It was the fact that there was someone, specifically Sybil, welcoming him that made the difference. She was a sight for sore eyes after a long day. When she asked how his day was, he was at first unable to answer. When she stopped sweeping, and asked, "Are you all right?" It broke him out of his reverie.
"I'm fine," said Tom with a smile. "Work was fine. I was just struck by how lovely it was to come home to someone." He walked over to her and gave her a quick kiss. "Since you are sweeping, I presume that the delivery went well?"
"Yes and I've made up the bed for you for tonight," said Sybil with some pride. "Come see." Sybil then held out her hand to him. When he took it, she leaned the broom against the nearest wall and led him to their bedroom.
Though the room only held his valise and the made up bed, the reality of their situation truly dawned on him like nothing else had done. It was finally coming together. They were going to be married. "It's beautiful. I'm not sure I've ever slept in such a nice bed."
"Well, you can thank Granny for the bed and the bedclothes," said Sybil with a smile. "Did you want to give it a try before we head over to your mother's?"
"Try?" asked Tom, unsure of what she was asking.
"You know lie down on top of the covers and pretend to sleep?" said Sybil, puzzled. "What did you think?"
"Uh, nothing," said Tom quickly to cover up where his thoughts had wandered, but he could feel a blush rise upon his cheeks. To cover the blush, Tom took off his jacket and placed it on the end of the bed, then he sat down on the side of the bed and started to take off his shoes. Looking at Sybil standing there, he asked, "Care to lie down with me?" He quickly added. "To pretend to sleep that is."
Despite the flutterings in her chest and the feel of a blush rising, Sybil said as cool, calm and collected as possible, "Of course." She then walked to the other side of the bed to take off her shoes. When she was done, Tom was already lying down on the bed, head on pillow, eyes closed, and arms by his side. Sybil thought he looked so much younger when he was lying down.
When she laid her head on the pillow with her fingers interlaced on her middle, she instantly realized that it was not the same as earlier when she thought of him lying beside her. He was there in the flesh, on the bed with her, and it only made her heart beat faster. She closed her eyes to calm herself. She could feel Tom move slightly beside her. When he said, "This is a very nice bed." Sybil's eyes popped open and Tom was now lying on his side with his elbow on the pillow and his head being propped up by his hand.
"Yes, it is," said Sybil nervously as she turned her head to look at him. Staring into his eyes, she felt happily lost in the pools of blue.
Tom was looking at Sybil from his vantage point and thinking how beautiful she looked. He didn't realize that he was leaning down to kiss her until just before their lips met. The kiss started soft and tentative, but it quickly deepened and their tongues sought one another's. Sybil's arms somehow wound their way around his neck to pull him closer and Tom had to reach out with his free hand to the other side of her head to steady himself.
They hadn't shared anything more than a quick kiss since being caught by Pastor Whelan at the church the previous Sunday. The embarrassment of being caught had kept them apart and the tension had obviously built up since then. Sybil's small sighs and moans were definitely not helping matters. Tom then moved to kiss her jaw and then her neck, the scent of lilacs from her perfume intoxicating him. "I love you so much, Sybil Crawley," he whispered into her skin. Sybil then kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear, "I love you, too, Tom Branson."
Tom then let his hands wander and roamed across her clothed body. Ghosting over her breasts and grasping her behind, which only generated desperate whispers of sweet nothings between them. He then kissed his way from her neck back to her sweet mouth, and as he kissed her again, she slid her tongue into his mouth desperately seeking any connection she could find. When Tom reached to start unbuttoning her blouse, Sybil said, "Oh, Tom. Love me?"
This jolted Tom out of what he was planning to do next and with great effort, he pulled himself away from Sybil to lie back down on the bed. Breathing heavily, Tom said, "You have no idea what you do to me."
Lifting herself to look at him, still recovering from the kisses, Sybil said, "Don't I?"
Willing himself not to look at her, Tom swung his legs over the edge of the bed and said, "We best remake the bed and and get going. Ma will wonder where we are."
As Tom was tying his shoelaces, Sybil said, "I do know what you're going through. I have the same feelings as you do, which is why I didn't tell you to stop."
Tom took a deep breath to control his emotions as he put his other foot into his shoe and said gently, "I know, which is why I have to stop us." Looking up at her, he continued, "We've come this far and I know that most couples would not care so close to the wedding, but I care. I care about you, about us." Leaning back down to tie up his other shoe, he said, "As much as we both want this, we will do it the right way." When he was done, he stood up to put on his jacket and he walked over to her side of the bed.
Overwrought by the emotions she had been feeling, Sybil was trying to contain her tears from the overwhelming love that she felt for him. As difficult as it was for him, Tom loved her so much that he was standing firm on the matter. Despite the fact, she had been the one who initially asked that they do nothing but kiss until they married, she knew her resolve had been crumbling little by little in the intervening months when she was near him and the episode with Molly did not help. When she was alone like this afternoon, she knew that she wanted to wait. When she was kissing him, she didn't want to stop. Her inability to tell him to stop just now was a true indication of how much had crumbled.
As Tom sat down on her side of the bed, he gathered her up in his arms and said "Shh. It's all right." Pulling out his handkerchief from his jacket pocket, Tom handed it to her.
Sybil took the handkerchief from Tom. "I don't know why I feel so conflicted. I know in my mind, I want to wait until after the wedding. But when we're kissing, I just don't want to stop." After dabbling her eyes, Sybil continued, "You must think me a wanton."
Looking at her, Tom smiled. "No, my love. I just think that you're getting carried away with the moment. A moment I should have never let happen. I should know better than you." Seeing her cry like this, reminded him how much younger she was than he and how everything he's put her through the last few weeks must be putting the weight of the world on her shoulders. The crying will do her some good.
In the comfort of Tom's embrace and soft comforting words, Sybil felt so safe and calm that her sniffling had ceased quickly. After a few moments, Tom asked, "Are you feeling well enough to go? If it can be helped, I'd rather not worry Ma or force her to keep dinner on the stove while she waited for us."
Sybil blew her nose once more before she nodded.
As Tom caressed her cheek, he said, "Why don't you get ready while I straighten up the bed?"
Sybil looked up and reached for Tom's mussed up hair. She smiled. "I think you'll have to run a comb through this. I'm afraid I messed it up during our escapade."
Before Tom let Sybil go, he kissed her on the forehead. "I'll do that after I straighten up the bed."
As Tom worked on the bed, Sybil put her shoes back on and redid her hair for the second time that day. Tom then claimed his comb from his valise and went to the bathroom to use the mirror. When he was done, Sybil had already put on her hat, gathered her pocketbook and was waiting for him by the door. After he relocked the door, Tom took Sybil's hand and they started down the stairs to head to Mrs. Branson's.
A/N2: So we've heard from Mary and the bed has arrived. I hope did Mary's letter justice. I find my biggest issue is coming up with Mary's voice and so I worry. Next up is moving the used furniture they bought with Ciaran and Kevin's help and it will include a few childhood stories of Tom.
As always, please feel free to point out any typos and grammatical errors. Sometimes no matter how hard you or your betas look, these things get missed. As always, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter good or bad, so please do review. :)
