Here is update #2! I hope to get at least ONE MORE in before the night is threw! So please, if you HAVEN'T read chapter 28, please be sure to do so (otherwise some of this chapter may not make sense!) Again, dedicated to darlingsybil-happy birthday dear! Also, I played with the timeline on this one; decided to have the concert take place a month before the events of 2x01.


A Man in Uniform
October, 1916

He checks himself in the mirror one more time, smiling at the way his dark hair is slick back, the metals on his chest are gleaming, the deep red fabric of his dress regimentals ironed and smooth. Yes, his valet did an excellent job.

Within a few minutes, he's descending the stairs at Downton, escorting his mother to the great hall, where a special charity concert is being performed. He'd rather it was the New Year's hunt or the annual cricket match, but those celebrations are gone now, or at least until the War is over.

They received the invitation a fortnight ago; his father is unable to attend, so instead he was given the responsibility of taking his mother. Not that he minds, especially when he sees the reason why he bothered to make the trip in the first place.

God she's beautiful. Who would have ever thought that such a beauty was once one of the ugliest girls in the room? Her lovely dark hair is lifted high, exposing a graceful, creamy neck and shoulders. He groans as he gazes at the sheer fabric that covers her shoulders, allowing him a glimpse of more creamy skin, skin he longs to run his fingers across…and his lips.

"Larry, how lovely of you come!" Lady Grantham greets.

He puts on a smile, though his eyes are locked on Sybil, who's busy talking to someone else.

"Thank you, Lady Grantham…and it's Lieutenant Grey now," he politely corrects, just loud enough for Sybil to hear, though she doesn't look at him. He wants her to think him brave, just as she thinks her cousin and Mr. Bellasis are.

The "pretender" is back. Larry notices the way Lady Mary is watching Patrick's replacement with nervous hands and keen eyes. He rolls his own at the scene.

He grits his teeth with frustration when he notices that Sybil has surrounded herself with others. He'll have to settle with talking to her after the concert.

It's rather boring, he would much rather be in London at his favorite club, especially since the only reason he chose to come at all is seated several rows in front of him, looking totally absorbed by it all, but at some point in the middle, he notices two women rise and start passing out…white feathers?

One woman calls a man a coward, and in the next instant Lord Grantham is on his feet, thundering at the women that THEY are the cowards and to leave the concert at once!

One of the women looks at him as they pass, and his fists clutch tightly to the ends of his regimentals. He's a soldier, just like Lord Grantham's heir. So what if he doesn't fight? He's still a soldier, the uniform proves that!

He watches them leave…and notices how leaning against the doorframe of the room, just beyond, is that blasted chauffeur.

One of the women hands him a feather. Good, he deserves it. He's young, able-bodied; he should be fighting! Grubby little mick.

He should also be ashamed.

But he's grinning.

GRINNING! And twirls the feather they've handed him as if it's nothing.

"I'm in uniform," he says to the women.

"Wrong kind!" they snap back.

Indeed, the chauffeur is the wrong kind of everything.

…And yet for some mad reason, Sybil seems to prefer his company!