36
Tom strode towards the village green, his mood buoyant. After such a long wait, he and Sybil were finally moving forward with their marriage plans! He grinned at every passer-by, each of their smiles in return lifting his spirits a little further. Although he had to carry a secret, it seemed as though they would all support him if they knew of it. The brotherhood of man! Which reminded him: where did he want to start with his ideas about Irish unification, independence, and the whole lot? There was talk of a possible bill on Irish independence being put before Parliament. Perhaps now was the time to strike, while the iron was hot! How could he frame the issues in a way that acknowledged the English lords and encouraged them to be willing to engage in meaningful discourse? And were the lords the only ones he had to convince?
Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't notice a child on a bicycle careening excitedly in his direction until the boy was nearly upon him.
"EDWARD, NO!" Matthew shouted, running towards them, and Tom gave a yelp of surprise and leapt aside. The handlebar of the small bicycle still rammed into his thigh, and Tom groaned and bent over, barely managing to grab the handlebar and prevent Edward crashing to the ground.
Matthew ran up, slightly out of breath, and quickly took the bicycle from Tom, who clutched his leg, wincing and drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth.
"God, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry," Matthew said quickly to Tom, as he helped Edward dismount. "Are you all right?"
"Only time will tell," Tom grunted, breathing through the pain. He blinked and lifted his head to take in the scene before him. A slightly winded, perspiring Matthew, jacket-less and his sleeves rolled up, stood watching Tom with a concerned expression. Huddled against Matthew's leg was Edward, staring up at Tom with wide eyes.
"I'm ever so sorry, Mr Branson!" Edward exclaimed, a touch too loudly, and pressed himself closer to Matthew as though he were afraid Tom would be angry with him. Tom gave a rueful, half-moan, half-laugh, dropping his head. Breathing out through the fading pain, he straightened.
"Are you all right, Master Edward?" Tom asked.
Edward nodded, then glanced between Tom and Matthew. "May I go again?" the boy asked Matthew.
Matthew gave Tom a long-suffering look and then grinned down at Edward. "Hop on! We'll go once more round the green, and then it's all up to you."
"Okay!" Edward shouted, again a bit too loudly, and mounted his bicycle. Tom stood watching as they took off, Matthew steadying the back of the bicycle as Edward pedalled madly. Tom watched their progress and, as expected, Matthew let go of the bicycle long before Edward realised it. When Edward finally turned a corner and saw that Matthew was slowing to a walk far behind him, Edward wavered and nearly tumbled, but he regained his balance at the last moment and gave a triumphant shriek. Matthew laughed, then started across the green towards Tom.
Tom strode over the new spring grass and the two men met in the middle. They turned to watch Edward's progress as the boy continued riding on the road around the green, usually aiming for the puddles.
"New bicycle?" Tom asked dryly.
Matthew chuckled and nodded, wiping his brow. "I had it sent up from Harrods when we were in London."
"Ah, your mysterious errand," Tom observed. "I'm sorry I'm late. Have you been waiting long?"
Matthew shook his head. "Only about a quarter-hour, not to worry. I've been well entertained: I've spent the morning teaching him to ride, the whole way here from the Abbey." He suddenly spun and shouted in a commanding tone, "Edward!"
Edward, who had been about to splash through a large puddle and most likely soak an elderly woman walking by carrying a grocery basket, suddenly twisted away from the puddle and ended up crashing to the ground. The woman stopped to check on him, but he quickly scrambled to his feet, gave her a polite answer, and was back on his bicycle a moment later, another long streak of dirt now staining his trousers.
"He's a quick study," Tom observed, raising his eyebrows.
Matthew smiled proudly, then winced. "I'm sorry about that collision. He started pedalling like mad and I lost my grip on the seat." His eyes flickered down and then back up. "I hope he didn't do any permanent damage."
Tom shook his head and pushed his hands into his pockets, still smarting a bit.
"How was the meeting with Dr Clarkson?" Matthew asked. At Tom's surprised look, Matthew explained, "Sybil told me where she was going after breakfast."
Tom grinned. "We're going to make our announcement tomorrow evening! I'm to come to the house after dinner. Sybil said that everyone will be there for the weekly gathering."
Matthew frowned. "I'd advise against it." Tom gave him a sharp glance and opened his mouth to protest, but Matthew held up a hand. "Hear me out. The person you most need to win over is Robert, and you won't do that if you spring the news on him without warning, in full view of the whole family. You'd do much better to meet privately with him and Sybil to discuss it. Particularly as I expect you plan to rely primarily on him to fund her education."
"That's..." Tom frowned. "A good point."
Matthew nodded, turning to watch Edward as he rode past, beaming. Matthew smiled back and waved at him. "I can't wait for the day when I can do this with George," he said with a happy sigh.
Tom smiled, then shifted uncomfortably. "May I ask you for some...personal advice?"
Matthew glanced at Tom while watching Edward. "Certainly. You can ask me anything."
Tom swallowed and nodded, glanced down at his shoes, then turned as Matthew did to observe Edward's progress when the boy rode by again on the other side of the green.
"Sybil doesn't want to have children before she finishes medical school," Tom said. "And possibly not even for a year or two after, so she can establish herself in a practice somewhere."
"That sounds reasonable," Matthew agreed.
"Yes."
"So what advice do you need?"
"Ah..." Tom rocked on his heels. "Well... We want to marry soon."
Matthew looked at him. "How soon?"
"We don't know yet," Tom answered. "But as soon as possible. Sybil mentioned something about the dean of the medical school wanting to meet with me first."
Matthew raised his eyebrows. "Whatever for?"
"Something about demonstrating that I'm prepared to be married to someone who's also married to the school." Tom smirked.
"Ah."
"So November, at the earliest."
Matthew chuckled and shook his head. "You've got a lot more self-control than I do. To be honest, I don't think I could have managed it for as long as you have." Then he sobered a moment.
"Yes. So... How do we...ensure that no children...happen?" Tom started to speak quickly. "I mean, I've heard there are ways—"
Matthew chuckled and gave a wry shake of his head, crossing his arms. "I am absolutely the wrong person to ask."
Tom frowned. "But I thought— You and Lady Mary waited..." He trailed off as Matthew laughed and continued shaking his head.
"Mary is expecting again. We were told the happy event is likely to occur in September." Matthew was smiling.
Tom stared at him, doing some quick, silent calculations. "So soon?"
Matthew sighed and dropped his arms. "Yes."
"But is that...quite safe for her?"
Matthew squinted at Edward, who had diverged from his usual circle about the green and was riding eagerly towards a flock of grey geese. They scattered, honking and beating their wings in aggrieved protest.
"Not really, no." Matthew turned to Tom with a half-embarrassed smile. "It wasn't intentional. Mary has insisted I purchase some French letters. I'd heard of men using them during the war. In Paris."
Tom had heard rumours, too; he nodded and resolved to make a quick search at the chemist's when he next had the chance.
"I'm intending to ask Dr Clarkson for advice, though," Matthew continued. "I'd rather be fully informed by a trusted source than rely on the rude humour of some rather unsavoury individuals."
Tom nodded.
"I wouldn't be surprised if Sybil has already borrowed Mary's books on the subject," Matthew observed, chuckling.
Tom smiled and looked down at his shoes again, then frowned. "So it was just a long run of bad luck, then, with you away so much of the time?"
"No," Matthew answered, sobering. "There was a...problem. It required medical attention."
"Ah."
Matthew gave a soft laugh. "Apparently, now we have the opposite challenge."
"A better one by far. Congratulations."
"Thank you," Matthew answered, chuckling. "I'm delighted. Not at the difficulty Mary must endure, of course, but...a second child! George seemed such a miracle that I'd somehow thought it would be more of a struggle to conceive another."
Tom laughed, his eyes travelling back to Edward. All this talk of children made him acutely aware of the passage of time, of the forward movement of life. For so long, he felt as though he'd been standing still, but things were changing, and rapidly. Soon he and Sybil would be married and living in London—although where they might be able to do that and not raise questions was a problem to be solved—alongside Mary and Matthew, and their children. But watching Edward ride his bicycle on the familiar village paths gave Tom an odd sense of nostalgia. He wondered how much longer the great house would stand. Even if Lord Grantham did his utmost to adapt to the circumstances, Downton must needs change, and the prospect left Tom with mixed feelings. After nearly eight years spent at Downton, it felt almost like home. Outside of his family's house in Dublin, it was the longest he'd lived anywhere. He'd found friendship and love here, and to his surprise, he realised that he would miss this place.
Although, when he and Sybil married, Downton would be where his family lived. It was a strange thought, now that the reality was finally beginning to materialise. He would be the son-in-law of an English lord. After all Tom had espoused with such passion, what a strange turn of events!
Matthew waved and Tom followed his gaze. The subject of Tom's thoughts was striding across the green towards them, swinging his walking stick and smiling pleasantly.
"Good morning, Mr Branson," Lord Grantham said.
"Good morning, Your Lordship," Tom answered with a nod, taking his hands out of his pockets.
"He has a perfectly serviceable pony, you know," Lord Grantham said to Matthew. "You might've asked me first."
"Oh," Matthew replied. "Do you object to the bicycle? I hadn't thought—I'm sorry."
Lord Grantham chuckled. "Not to worry. Only, please impress upon him the importance of not upsetting the local livestock. I just got an earful from old Jacobson. Apparently, his geese are already irritable enough."
The three men grinned at each other and returned to watching Edward, who had just hopped off his bicycle to help a girl gather up a spilt basket.
"He's not a bad sort," Tom observed.
Lord Grantham and Matthew both looked on with proud smiles.
"What brings you to the village this morning?" Matthew asked.
Lord Grantham made a vague sweep of his stick. "I was just making the rounds. Checking in on things. You know." The earl surveyed his domain a moment with a pleased expression, then suddenly turned to Matthew. "Oh—I was thinking about your proposal to combine a portion of Windmill Farm with the adjoining field that Mr Willis has in his lot," Lord Grantham said. "I think you're right about taking advantage of the fallow land near the barns."
"And it's the perfect opportunity to revisit the rents for Mr Willis, if his allotment will be adjusted," Matthew agreed.
Lord Grantham looked less enthusiastic about this.
"Have you given any thought to the pigs?" Tom asked quickly. "As a first venture, I think they are likely to be the most lucrative. Sir Anthony has been crossing Large Blacks with Middle Whites, and he said they've turned out quite well for him, not only for how much their meat can fetch, but also given how much manure they produce."
"I have," Lord Grantham answered with a nod. "I'll need to find a good pig man, though. That's not a task I can just add to any tenant's responsibilities."
Matthew made a noise of agreement.
"Are you free this afternoon?" Lord Grantham asked them, and Tom's heart fell. He'd been hoping to have a few hours to himself, to think and plan and perhaps write.
"I promised Mary that we'd have a long walk about the grounds," Matthew answered. "We don't know how many more chances we'll have to do it before we leave."
Lord Grantham nodded and pressed his lips together. "Well then," he said briskly, "how about this evening after dinner?" He looked across at Tom. "Will you join us?"
Tom blinked. "After dinner?"
"No, for dinner," Lord Grantham replied. "You have suitable clothing, I expect?"
"Yes, of course." Tom was still wrapping his head around the idea that Lord Grantham wanted him to dine with the family. How well this might bode for his prospects with Sybil!
"Very well," Lord Grantham said. "Drinks are served at seven-thirty."
"I will see you then. Thank you, Your Lordship."
Lord Grantham nodded, then looked at Matthew. "Shall we head back together?"
"Yes, let's," Matthew answered.
Lord Grantham turned away to wave Edward over.
"Sybil said you wanted to speak to me about something?" Tom asked Matthew quietly.
Matthew glanced at Lord Grantham before looking back at Tom. "Mary's had a good idea about the direction our assessment business might take. We'll discuss it later."
Tom nodded.
Lord Grantham lifted his stick. "Ho there! Edward, my boy! We're for lunch! Come now."
Edward obediently turned his bicycle and headed back towards them. Giving Tom a nod, Lord Grantham walked away to meet his son. As Matthew turned to follow, he glanced back and gave Tom a wide-eyed, hopeful smile, with a cheerful nod of his head in the earl's direction. Tom grinned back and pushed his hands into his pockets.
Yes, this was a promising first step. But as Matthew looked away, Tom's smile fell. Even if he made an excellent impression this evening, it was quite unlikely that Lord and Lady Grantham would be happy about the engagement. No matter how well Tom wore the toffs' clothing, he was still a working-class paddy. He glanced down and scuffed his shoe on a clump of grass, then straightened and squared his shoulders, putting on a smile. It was a beautiful morning, he had the love of a beautiful woman, and he felt sure Lord and Lady Grantham would come around. Eventually.
The next evening
Tom's stomach was in knots as he looked round the large dining room table, despite it being his second night in a row dining with the Crawleys. He'd spent most of the day driving about the grounds with Matthew and Lord Grantham, discussing estate restructuring possibilities. Tom had been hoping to find Sybil at home when they'd returned for tea, so he could meet privately with her and her father, but she was still out at the hospital and she hadn't returned before Tom had to take his leave. He hadn't planned to eat dinner with the family, but when Lady Grantham had smiled politely and asked him if he would join the party again that evening, what could he do but say yes? He'd exchanged a significant look with Matthew and Mary, hoping they would warn Sybil of the change in plans, and then he'd hurried back to his rented room in the village to change.
It didn't help his nerves that Thomas was now shooting him daggers, as the footman held out a dish of vegetables. Tom gritted his teeth and spooned a serving on to his plate.
Sybil was seated on the far end of the table, chatting with Lady Edith and Sir Anthony. Lord Grantham and the Dowager Countess were seated in the middle, across from Lady Grantham and Lady Rosamund. Lady Mary sat beside her aunt, and Mrs Crawley, Matthew, and Tom were arranged together at the other end of the table. At least Tom was among friends, but he could only think that the seating arrangement was intentional. Sybil could not be farther away from him.
Matthew nudged Tom's foot and Tom blinked and quickly looked down at this plate. Matthew had warned him not to be seen looking overmuch at Sybil again; someone was sure to notice.
Lady Rosamund, for example. When Tom looked up again, he saw that she was watching him with a hawk's gaze, rather disturbingly similar to the Dowager Countess's, and a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. She lifted her glass to him, and he swallowed, pressing his mouth into a tight smile and nodding politely back. Matthew said that she'd been making all sorts of probing enquires about him at breakfast, which Matthew had been careful to deflect. Tom's collar felt tight, and this blasted penguin suit was stiff and hot. Why did he let them do this to him? He wished he had declined Lady Grantham's offer and just gone with their original plan: to show up wearing his own clothing and no pretences. He wasn't one of them, and he never would be.
He frowned and took a sip from his glass, wondering when he might next have the chance to speak with Sybil and Lord Grantham alone...
"Fish, Mr Branson?" Mr Carson asked, suddenly at Tom's elbow. Tom looked up in surprise, found the butler glowering at him, and glanced quickly at the serving dish. He put a piece of fish on his plate, and Mr Carson moved on. Tom breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"Well, at least it seems easier to replace a chauffeur," the Dowager Countess said, and Tom looked up in surprise.
"Yes," Sir Anthony replied. "Although we were sad to see Marsters go. He made the children laugh so, and put them at ease whenever we had a flat tyre." Sir Anthony's voice became wistful. "He made it seem such an adventure."
"I only wish the governesses were half so good with them," Edith sighed. "I've had to interview so many. It seems half of them are embittered disciplinarians, and the other half naïve young girls who dream of being Jane Eyre." She eyed her husband. "To see their faces fall when Anthony walks into the room—it almost makes me laugh."
"Am I so bad-looking?" he asked, smiling at her.
"Not at all," Edith replied. "You're just so obviously besotted with me."
"God spare us all," Violet muttered.
"I think it admirable," Cora said, smiling at Anthony and then meeting Robert's gaze across the table.
"What?" he asked, pausing in cutting his fish. "I stayed well clear of the whole lot when you were interviewing for a governess. I didn't want to influence your decision."
"I wonder if you might have helped to winnow a few out," she replied, eyeing him. When he shrugged, she turned to Edith. "Miss Goldthwaite has done wonders with Edward. His manners have greatly improved."
Edith smiled. "Yes, Harry and Sylvia are quite fond of her, too, Sylvia especially." Edith glanced towards the ceiling. "I hope they are having fun upstairs."
"I'm sure they are," Mary said. "When I left George and Nanny Hollis with them, Edward and Harry were planning a grand adventure with the train and six trolls under a bridge, and Sylvia was telling George how to talk to the Man in the Moon."
"Oh, they have such imaginations!" Edith laughed. "Sylvia asked me only this morning what I ate to make the baby grow in my stomach, because she wanted to have one, too."
Everyone around the table chuckled, and Sir Anthony gave Edith a warm smile, glancing down at her rounded belly.
"I've been surprised by how attentive Edward and Sylvia are to George, particularly as Harry seems to show no interest in him," Mary observed.
"It's probably because Harry is accustomed to having a younger sibling about," Isobel said. "For the other two, a baby is a curiosity."
There was a general agreement with this assessment, and everyone continued eating. Carson bent to refill Edith's glass of water.
"You're becoming quite the topic of conversation," Rosamund said to Edith. "I was at a small dinner party last week with a friend of mine who owns several newspapers, and he mentioned your column on how nonsensical it is to only enfranchise female property owners over the age of the thirty."
"The population of women who would qualify for the vote is ridiculously small," Edith replied, all humour falling away from her expression. "We might as well not be given the vote at all."
"I think that's rather the idea," Matthew said.
Edith gave him a grim nod.
"Well, with so many men lost in the war," Rosamund put in, glancing between Robert and Matthew, "there was perhaps a very real fear that we would outnumber you, and then only heaven knows what disasters might have befallen the Empire." She hid a smirk by taking a sip of her wine. Matthew chuckled, but Robert was not amused.
"True, but I cannot complain," Edith continued with a smile. "Even if the esteemed members of Parliament are not so enlightened—" At this, Robert shot her a sour look, but she only went on. "—the general public seems quite in favour of women's suffrage. I receive so many encouraging letters from readers, it gives me the energy to press on! Sometimes it can be difficult to find the time to write—" She smiled at Anthony and touched his hand. "—but I wouldn't exchange my family for all the letters in the world."
Robert gave her a thin smile, then glanced at her husband. "You are looking well, Anthony. I must say, after last week's dinner, I was quite worried."
"Yes, I was a bit under the weather, but Dr Hanson set me to rights." Anthony turned to Sybil. "Speaking of which, we are very happy to hear your news! When will you leave to study in London?"
Sybil looked at Robert. "I don't know yet," she answered. "But it will have to be soon, if I'm to have any chance of being ready to sit the exam again in October."
Robert smiled, but the expression didn't entirely reach his eyes. "We have yet to discuss the details," he explained to Anthony. Then, softening his expression, he looked at Sybil. "I am proud of you, my dear," he said. "I will do what I can to help you." Sybil's eyes widened as he continued. "It is fortunate that there's a medical school for women. I imagine none of the others would have given you a chance."
Sybil nodded, her eyes still wide as she watched her father. He returned to eating as Cora, Violet, Rosamund, and Mary began to discuss whom to write to concerning securing a tutor. Tom watched Sybil look down at her plate and press her lips together. She blinked rapidly and swallowed. He looked at Lord Grantham, who answered a question about an Oxford don he might know with a cheerful affirmative.
"That bodes well," Isobel said quietly, and Tom realised she was speaking to him. He nodded and gave her a tentative smile. She turned to Matthew. "Frankly, seeing Sybil thrive is such a nice change from what I deal with each day."
"How is your work going, Mother?" Matthew asked. "Have you had many successes?"
Isobel's face fell. "Not nearly as many as I'd hoped. Some women come to stay and learn a skill or apply for a position that we find for them, but most are just hungry, and their children are hungry and ill. Their situation is quite desperate...and these mothers resort to desperate measures." Isobel winced as she picked up her glass.
Matthew nodded, swallowing his food with a look of concern. His eyes drifted towards Mary and he frowned. "What is to be done?"
"We must secure more positions," Isobel answered. "It is unfortunate, but often when a prospective employer discovers what measures these women have taken to provide for their children, the employer sacks them, or refuses to take them on altogether. They are shunned by polite society, condemned to living at its edges, and trapped in a truly terrible life, with no hope of escape. Who can blame them?" Isobel seemed almost in tears, and she pressed her serviette to her lips with one hand.
Matthew touched her other hand and gave her a gentle smile. "Come now, Mother. All is not lost. There must be some way through. Perhaps if they were moved to a different community, where no one knows who they are? Could you contact a society in London and ask for help, perhaps arrange an exchange of sorts?"
"But what of the children?" Isobel asked, lowering her serviette. "To grow up in a London slum might be worse! At least in the country, they have some hope of fresh food and honest labour."
Matthew frowned and shook his head, at a loss.
"I just think of poor Ethel," Isobel murmured, glancing briefly at Cora before returning her gaze to Matthew and Tom. "I saw her again yesterday, but whenever she realises I've recognised her, she flees."
"How did she seem?" Tom asked, recalling a petite young woman with red hair, who always read magazines on her breaks in the servants' hall, and dreamed of bigger and better things than a life of service. Ethel's pronouncements had always set the older members of the staff against her, but privately, Tom had cheered her on. To think of her now...
"Thin," Isobel answered, and her mouth pulled down. "Too thin."
"Did you see the baby?" Matthew asked. "Charlie, was it?"
Isobel shook her head, and they returned to their meal in a worried silence.
When Carson and Thomas began to clear away the dinner plates and set out dessert, Tom dared another look at Sybil. He was surprised to find her staring intently at him and he gave her a brief smile. She raised her eyebrows in a meaningful way and straightened, her expression expectant. He blinked and frowned, confused, then realised a moment too late what she was intending to do. He opened his mouth to form a silent "no", but Sybil was already pushing her chair back. Her face was bright with anticipation. He looked to Mary and Matthew in confusion and dismay; they were exchanging a quick series of silent looks and gestures.
I thought you would tell her of the change in plans!
What? How? I don't get the chance to see her any more often than you do!
Glaring at them, Tom stood as Sybil rose from her seat. Matthew automatically stood as well, cutting off the exasperated looks that he and Mary were giving each other, and Robert and Anthony both pushed themselves to their feet, albeit a bit more slowly, in surprise.
"Sybil?" Robert asked, watching as she walked round the long table and came to stand beside Tom. Matthew stepped back to give her space. Sybil touched Tom's arm as she lifted her chin.
"Tom and I are getting married," she announced with a calm smile. "Now that the plans for medical school are taking a definite shape, we're ready to take the next step."
There was stunned silence throughout much of the family. Violet sat stiffly, her lips pursed in displeasure as she looked at Tom. Rosamund's mouth had fallen open in shock, but there was a definite light of amusement in her eyes. Mary was frowning down at her plate and Matthew stood behind Sybil and Tom, not looking at Robert. Isobel's gaze moved over everyone else with interest. Anthony and Edith exchanged a concerned glance, their mouths slightly open. Cora's mouth had fallen open, too, but her expression was one of betrayal, her brows pulled down as her gaze raked over Tom.
Robert's eyes bulged slightly, a storm cloud building in his features.
"What's this?" he demanded. "How dare you make such an arrangement with my daughter in secret!"
Mary got to her feet. "It hasn't been completely in secret." She stood straight and tall, collected, her chin raised. "Matthew and I have known of it since the beginning. We advised them to wait before announcing it."
Robert's eyes darted angrily to Matthew. "What do you mean, 'since the beginning'? How long has this been going on?"
"The engagement took place last year, in February," Matthew answered in a calming tone.
Robert's face reddened as he shoved his chair back and stepped in their direction. "That was when you began the whole business with Murray!" he exclaimed. "Has it all just been a cover so that this—this scoundrel can have his way with my daughter?"
Tom drew in a sharp breath and stiffened, but Sybil kept her grip on his arm, stepping between him and her father with an angry "Papa!"
Matthew put out a hand. "Now, Robert—"
"Don't you 'Now, Robert' me!" The earl's nostrils flared as he turned on Tom. "And all the time, you were driving me about, bowing and scraping, and seducing my daughter behind my back?!"
"I don't bow and scrape!" Tom shot back, his eyes burning. "And I've not seduced anyone." Tom narrowed his eyes at Robert. "Give your daughter some credit for knowing her own mind."
Robert lowered his voice to a dangerous hiss. "How dare you speak to me in that tone! You will leave at once—!"
"Oh, Papa," Sybil snapped.
Robert turned away with a disbelieving laugh. "This is a folly, a ridiculous, juvenile madness—"
"Sybil," Violet said, watching this whole exchange with a shrewd eye, "what do you have in mind?"
Robert turned on his mother. "Mama, this is hardly—"
"No," Violet rejoined calmly, putting up a hand. "She must have something in mind, otherwise she wouldn't have staged this announcement here tonight."
Robert shook his head and twisted to pace a step away, but he was confined by the space between the dining room table and the sideboard. With brief, agitated steps, he twisted round again. Carson stood stiff as a statue beside the sideboard, glowering.
Sybil looked at Violet. "Thank you, Granny. Yes, we do have a plan. Tom will continue to work with Matthew." Robert made a soft, derisive sound and Sybil narrowed her eyes at him. "The work they do is quite skilled and you know that only too well, Papa." Robert's eyes shot accusingly to Matthew, who only subtly shook his head. Robert's nostrils flared again and his jaw worked as he looked back at Sybil, who continued speaking. "And I will continue to study for medical school—"
Robert gave a mocking laugh. "You don't honestly expect me to pay for your studies after this little stunt, do you?"
"Of course I do," Sybil answered with a frown, straightening. "Marrying changes nothing about those plans. You just said you were proud of me and willing to support my efforts." She took a step closer to him and softened her tone, her eyes widening. "I can do some good in the world, Papa." At his stony expression, she frowned. "You always wanted us to read the Bible, but how seriously do you take its words? I should think you'd be happy that I want to apply myself to helping others, rather than just living a self-absorbed, privileged life."
Robert's jaw flexed. "Like your mother and I do, you mean," he bit out. "What does it say about respecting your parents?"
"Oh, Papa," Sybil sighed, her mouth turned down. "I don't think I'm better than you are. I'm just asking you to be reasonable."
"Reasonable!" he hissed. "You plan to marry a, a—" He threw his arm up in a jerk at Tom. Tom's hands tightened into fists and his jaw flexed.
"He's a good man, Papa!" Sybil exclaimed. "...and I love him." Robert snorted at this, but Sybil persisted. "He can provide for me. And I can provide for myself, eventually."
"I won't allow it!" Robert snapped, advancing on them in full fury. "I will not allow my daughter to throw away her life!"
"You can posture all you like, Papa," Sybil answered, her tone rising to match his, and his footsteps slowed. "It won't make any difference!"
"Oh, yes, it will," Robert growled.
"How?" Sybil retorted. "If the price of medical school is losing Tom, then I will simply give up my dream of becoming a doctor. And you can hardly lock me up until I die." Robert froze, his eyes wide. "I'll say good night—" Sybil sighed and glanced at the rest of the family before returning her gaze to Robert. "—but I can promise you one thing: tomorrow morning, nothing will have changed. Tom?"
Sybil turned towards the door. Tom and Robert stood facing one another for a moment, and as Tom made to follow Sybil, Robert advanced on him.
"Robert—" Cora began, standing up. Tom and Sybil paused and glanced back in surprise.
"Take care," Violet agreed, looking up at Robert.
Robert spun and glared at them. "You can't possibly be in support of this."
Cora had a pleading expression on her face. "Please, we must discuss this calmly."
Robert spun back around, now fixing his gaze on Mary, then Matthew. "What do you two have to say for yourselves?"
Mary and Matthew exchanged a glance before she lifted her chin.
"I didn't say anything earlier because I hoped it would blow over," Mary answered. "I didn't want to split the family when Sybil might still wake up." Tom and Sybil both shot her looks of displeasure, but Mary continued, unfazed. "Matthew and I convinced them to wait, to stay in England. I should think you'd be grateful for that."
"Grateful?" Robert bit out, his voice dangerously soft.
"Yes!" Mary answered with a frustrated wave of her hand. "Their original plan had been to run away to Ireland."
Robert's mouth fell open as he looked at Tom and Sybil.
"Tom got a job on a newspaper, so we were to go to Dublin," Sybil explained.
"To live with him?" Cora asked, her eyes wide with horror. "Unmarried?"
"I had planned to live with his mother while the banns were read," Sybil answered. "And then we would be married, and I'd get a job as a nurse. It's still a viable plan."
"What does you mother make of this?" Violet asked Tom.
His mouth pressed into a flat line. "If you must know, she thinks we're very foolish."
"Oh, so at least we have something in common," Violet replied.
Robert gave an angry huff, shoved at the chair nearest him, and stalked out of the room, Thomas quickly moving to hold the door open for him. Everyone left behind remained in awkward silence for a long moment.
Tom looked at Sybil. "I'll go." He spoke quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait," Matthew said, putting out a hand. "Let me speak with him."
"It's no use," Cora sighed. "Not when he's like this."
"Matthew can't make it any worse," Mary said, arching her eyebrow. She nodded at Matthew, who quickly went out.
Cora frowned at Sybil. "You shouldn't have sprung it on him so suddenly."
Sybil set her jaw. "No matter how I might have said it, Papa would still have overreacted."
"He's not overreacting," Violet answered. "He's afraid for you. We all are. Sybil, dear, this sort of thing is all very well in novels, but in reality it can prove very uncomfortable. And while I am sure Mr Branson has many virtues—"
"I will not give him up," Sybil answered firmly.
Tom looked down at his shoes, his jaw working. He lifted his eyes to take in the gathered family and he couldn't help glancing at Carson, who was regarding him with such silent fury that Tom swallowed and quickly looked away. Tom met Violet's gaze without rancor before turning to address Cora.
"I understand your fear, Lady Grantham," he said, "but I promise you, I have nothing but Sybil's best interests at heart. I love her."
Cora blinked and frowned. Tom glanced round the rest of the table, but most everyone's expressions remained largely unchanged. Isobel's expression was resigned and apologetic. He looked away with a sigh, nodding.
Sybil's fingers entwined gently with his. "Come," she said softly.
"Don't go far," Mary said.
They nodded and left. Thomas closed the door behind them.
Cora dropped her serviette on the table and sagged as she sat back down. "She's right about one thing: we can't lock her up until she dies."
"Worse luck," Violet said.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Rosamund said, looking distinctly like the cat that got the cream. "It's high time something interesting happened in this family!"
Violet gave her a look. "Yes, we can hardly call your engagement to Mr Painswick interesting now, can we?"
Rosamund gave a dignified sort of wiggle and picked up her glass of wine with a smirk. "I'm happy to cede the honour to dear Sybil."
"I like Mr Branson," Edith attempted.
"Well, at least I can say this for him," Violet replied, lifting her own glass, "he is a good driver."
Cora sighed and stared at nothing.
Mary had retaken her seat and she looked expectantly at Carson. The butler still stood beside the sideboard, glaring at the closed door where Tom and Sybil had just exited.
"Well, Carson," Mary declared, as she smoothed her serviette on her lap and smiled. "Shall we have dessert?"
Matthew carefully opened the library door and stepped inside. The moment the door had closed behind him, Robert spun, his eyes burning.
"I trusted you!" he hissed. "On your word, I trusted him!" Robert jerked his arm in the direction of the dining room. He took a step towards Matthew, who held his ground and set his jaw. "I have let him into my private concerns! You have exposed me to mockery!" Robert's nostrils flared and he looked away again.
Matthew's jaw worked. "Have you never wondered," he asked in controlled tone, "why the members of this family hide their deepest concerns from you?"
Robert's eyes flashed as he turned on Matthew, baring his teeth. "What?"
"Mary," Matthew answered, pausing a moment to let his words sink in. "Cora, who helped her. Now Sybil. Even Edith, whom Anthony had to defend against you."
Robert glared at him, but Matthew advanced with deliberation, lifting his chin.
"You are a good man, Robert," Matthew said. "We all love you."
"But?" Robert's face was red, his frame trembling slightly.
"But you let your fear overtake your love for them."
Robert swallowed, blinking, and looked away, turning towards the window. His nostrils flared as he breathed.
"Tom is a good man, sir," Matthew said, quieting his voice. "If Sybil were my daughter, I would be delighted to have him as my son-in-law."
Robert shook his head.
"What do you object to?" Matthew asked. "What are you afraid of?"
After a long moment, Robert turned, narrowing his eyes. "Why do you trust him so?"
Matthew looked at the floor a moment. He lifted his eyes back up to Robert's. "When I was in my chair," Matthew began, "Tom was one of the few who treated me as though I were still a man, and not merely an unfortunate cripple." The skin around Robert's eyes tightened, but he remained silent. Matthew swallowed. "Tom...enabled me to keep going, when you asked me to first look round the estate. He went far beyond what I would expect of a chauffeur, and he did it without complaining or taking advantage of the situation in any way."
Robert's expression hardened. "He convinced you to let him pursue Sybil in secret."
"No, he did not," Matthew answered. "I had planned to ask him to be my partner before I knew of the understanding between them. When I went to offer him a job, I discovered them talking. He and Sybil wanted to tell you from the very first, but Mary and I convinced them to wait." Matthew frowned and glanced aside a moment. "I will admit that the secret has gone on much longer than any of us intended, because Sybil took an interest in medicine and she feared that you wouldn't even entertain the possibility of supporting her if you knew about Tom."
Robert gave a bitter laugh, looking away.
"We have chaperoned them on many outings and Tom has never once abused the privilege." Matthew took another step forward. "He and Sybil swear that they have only ever kissed, and from what I overheard before they knew I was listening, I believe them. They have obeyed every restriction that Mary and I have put on them, and I can assure you, it has not been easy for them." Matthew paused. "He has shown restraint, waiting patiently for her, for nearly four years. I should think you would find that admirable."
Robert's eyes shot to Matthew's and his frown deepened.
Matthew narrowed his eyes a moment before glancing away. When he looked back at Robert, Matthew drew in a deep breath and lifted his chin. "He is clever, honourable, diligent, resourceful—"
"Proud," Robert bit out.
Matthew chuckled. "Yes, but would we respect him if he were any less so?"
Robert looked away.
Matthew sobered. "He is a true friend—I could not ask for a better one—and I know he will care for Sybil above himself, as he has done for so long, setting aside his own desires to support her efforts to get into medical school. How many men would do that? And have you considered how difficult it has been for him to work with me? To help advance and secure the positions of the very men who perpetuate the oppression of his homeland?"
Robert turned on Matthew with a glare.
"And because he is such a fine, upstanding young man," the earl bit out, his colour rising as he spoke, "you find nothing wrong with him carrying on with my daughter in secret, in their ambushing me in my own home, in how they have rallied you and Mary to their banner so that I shall have even fewer allies, and appear as nothing but an old fool, clinging to tired traditions?"
"Robert, I—I think you exaggerate..." Matthew protested, raising his hands.
"Do I?" Robert scoffed. He took a step forward, his nostrils flaring as he spoke in a dangerously soft tone. "I pray to God that you never see the day that your children rebel against you, and should that day ever come, I pray that I am still alive to see how well you handle it."
Matthew swallowed.
"Don't you understand?" Robert asked, jerking his arms out in frustration. "She will lose everything! All of her old friends. She will no longer receive their invitations. Important doors will be closed to her!"
"As they are to Mary?" Matthew asked quietly.
Robert frowned at the floor, his jaw working.
"Your daughters are strong, Robert. They are a credit to you. To people who know and love them, the doors will never be closed. To the rest I say good riddance."
Robert's eyes flashed at Matthew, but then the earl looked down and sighed.
"I should have known I would not find any support from you or Mary, or even from my own mother." Robert shook his head. "I am the earl, but everyone else thinks they can run this place. I am tasked with trying to preserve it, to pay for everyone's dreams. All I ask for is respect, for me, for those who came before me, for our way of life. Apparently, that is too much to ask, for the moment I object to anything, I'm the one being unreasonable."
Matthew frowned. "Robert..."
The earl raised his hand and Matthew fell silent. Drawing in a deep breath, Robert turned away, saying only, "Send them in."
"Yes, sir." Matthew went out.
"It's harder than I expected it to be," Sybil murmured, watching the flames flickering in the grate. She and Tom stood before the fireplace in the great hall. "I knew it would be difficult, but to actually see their faces..."
He cupped her elbow, stroking it. "It went exactly as I expected it to," he replied quietly. "But I'm not sorry we did it."
"No, nor am I," she answered, meeting his eyes. Seeing something flicker in his gaze, she smiled. "There's no point in hiding any longer, is there?"
"None," he agreed, bending to kiss her. It was only a brief press; there was something bittersweet in the moment. But her hands clutched his lapels, and when the kiss ended, he drew her into his embrace and rested his cheek against her hair.
Footsteps sounded behind them and they turned to see Matthew, a grim expression on his face.
"He's ready to see you now."
When Sybil and Tom entered the library, they found Robert standing beside the fireplace. He did not look up or straighten when they came to a stop. After a moment, they exchanged a concerned glance.
"You asked for us?" Sybil said.
Robert nodded, his jaw working, but he still did not look at them.
Sybil swallowed. "I'm sorry to hurt you, Papa, but you won't be able to change my mind."
"I know," Robert answered, his tone short. He finally straightened and turned to look at them. They stood quietly, enduring his gaze.
Robert narrowed his eyes at Tom. "I noticed that you let the others do most of the talking. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Swallowing, Tom straightened his shoulders. "There's been too much deceit and too many lies," he said. "I'll grant you that."
Robert gave a short, bitter laugh. "You will? How generous of you."
"But I promise you," Tom continued, "I have nothing but Sybil's best interests at heart. I love her."
Robert rounded on him with a harsh gesture. "You're threatening to carry her off to a war zone!"
Tom's nostrils flared and he gritted his teeth, but when Sybil opened her mouth to speak, he stilled her with a hand on her arm and shook his head.
"No, I'm not," he answered, addressing Robert. Sybil's head snapped round to look at Tom. "Even if you cast her off, I'll not take her to Ireland until the present unrest dies down. I believe in her. I think she'll be a brilliant physician, with or without your support, and I will do all I can to ensure she succeeds. As Matthew's partner, I now have the means." Tom paused. "But it would be a great deal easier to do it with your support."
Robert frowned at him for a long moment. "And if she does not qualify for an entrance?"
"Then she can train to become a proper nurse, if she wishes," Tom answered. "But I'll not attempt to force your hand with threats to her safety."
Robert looked at Sybil, who was frowning slightly up at Tom. "You seem rather surprised by this development."
Her eyes flashed to him and she swallowed, then smiled. "It only makes me love him more, Papa."
Robert sighed, half-turning towards the fireplace. "What does Dr Clarkson say about all this?"
Sybil frowned. "He doesn't approve. He thinks attempting both marriage and medical school at the same time is too difficult."
Robert nodded. "Would the medical school even permit you an entrance if you're married?"
Sybil and Tom exchanged a glance.
"Dr Henley said we must be married in secret," Sybil admitted.
Robert blinked and stared at her. "The dean of the medical school approves of...this?" He waved his hand at them.
"Cautiously," Sybil answered. "But I will take all the risk upon myself should we be discovered."
"This is a dangerous game you want to play," Robert observed. His glance moved to Tom. "You would really marry my daughter in secret? Wouldn't that offend your pride?" He said this last in a slightly sneering tone.
Tom smiled. "On the contrary, I have great pride in her love and I will strive to be worthy of it."
"But you just said that there has been too much deceit and too many lies," Robert pointed out, shaking his head and giving a short, mocking laugh. "You speak with a Janus-faced finesse."
Tom sighed and nodded. "From a certain point of view, you're perfectly right," he agreed. "But I couldn't care less whether the world approves of us. What I don't want to do any longer is hide our relationship from your family."
"But ultimately, you don't care what we think," Robert replied. "You'll persist in taking her away from everyone who loves her, no matter what we say."
"He won't be taking me away from you, Papa," Sybil answered quietly. "Not if you give us your blessing." She stepped forward with measured steps, until she could touch her father's sleeve, and she spoke in a soft tone. "You're the one who has the power to split the family."
Robert's brows drew down. His jaw working, he turned to face the fire. Sybil's hand fell away from his sleeve and with a saddened nod, she moved back from him, taking up her place beside Tom. They watched Robert for a long moment and then, with quiet sighs, they left the room.
Sybil pulled up in surprise when they emerged from the library, for Edith and Anthony stood a few paces away, beside the stairs, obviously waiting for them. Edith took a step forward and held out her hand. Sybil looked at it in confusion until Tom, beside her, accepted it and shook it.
"Welcome to the family," Edith said firmly.
Tom nodded. "Thank you, Lady Edith."
"'Edith', please." She smiled, her expression taking in Sybil as well. "Congratulations."
Sybil felt something inside her ease a bit. "Thank you."
Stepping forward, Anthony shook both of their hands, although they were obliged to use their left hands with him.
"I admit to feeling a bit left out," Edith said, as the four of them began to walk towards the sitting room, on the far side of the great hall. "But really, I'm just glad to be away from it all. I have plenty to keep me occupied."
"You seem much happier now," Sybil agreed.
Edith smiled up at Anthony, letting her hand brush against his, and he smiled back.
"So what are your plans?" Edith asked Sybil briskly. "I don't suppose Papa gave you his blessing."
"Not as such..." Sybil replied with a frown. "But he didn't throw me out, either."
"Mary and Cousin Isobel told us everything, and Anthony and I have been talking," Edith said. "We want to help you with your school expenses, if necessary."
Sybil's mouth fell open and she stopped walking, and the other three paused as well. Edith glanced at Tom, but he only gave her a tight smile and a nod before he looked at Sybil, whose eyes were moving quickly from Edith to Anthony and back again, her mouth open.
Sybil put her hand on her chest and her eyes grew bright with unshed tears. "Oh, do you mean it? Truly?"
At Edith's and Anthony's nods, Sybil covered a small sob and gave Tom a wide-eyed look of disbelief.
Edith stepped forward and clasped Sybil's hand. "You can do this. I know you can. And I look forward to watching you succeed."
Grinning, her tears spilling down her cheeks, Sybil pulled Edith into a hug. Tom and Anthony stood a moment, watching the sisters embrace. Then the men's eyes met over the women's heads.
"I don't know how I can repay you," Tom said to Anthony.
"Take good care of her," Anthony replied with a smile.
Tom nodded, swallowed, and smiled back.
"There you are!" Cora called, emerging from the sitting room. "Whatever is keeping you?" She saw the four happy faces and her own expression softened slightly as she approached Sybil. Sybil wiped at her eyes and held her mother's gaze a moment, then Cora looked at Tom. "Come into the sitting room," she said calmly. She stood back, including all four of them in her gesture. "Everyone is waiting for you."
Cora finished seeing that everyone was comfortable before she went looking for her husband. He still hadn't come through, and she sighed in frustration. Sometimes the English were just impossible, so fixated on their propriety and traditions and class differences. Although she might understand the hallowed precepts, she didn't hold with most of them. What did it matter that Branson had been the chauffeur? He certainly wouldn't have been Cora's first choice for Sybil, but Cora could imagine much worse fates than marriage to a kind, intelligent, well-spoken, attractive man who was willing to support his wife as she went through medical school—whether that pipe dream ever came to fruition—and whose prospects seemed to be on the rise. Sybil would most likely enjoy a comfortable middle-class life, perhaps even an upper middle-class one if she began her medical practice. So it was really long past time for Robert to emerge from the library and be civil.
Whatever she had been expecting when she entered the library, it was not the sight that greeted her: Robert, sitting on the sofa beside the fireplace, his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried in his hands. She hurried over and knelt on the floor before him.
"Darling?" she murmured, touching his knee, and Robert lifted his head to look down at her. She realised his eyes were red-rimmed, as though he'd been crying. "It's not so terrible, truly. Sybil loves him. So does Matthew."
Robert exhaled a bitter laugh. "If he just had a scrap of humility—"
"What do you want him to do?" Cora asked sharply. "Genuflect and call you 'Master'?"
Robert's expression hardened and he looked to the side.
"I know I'm an American, but I rather like him," Cora said, her tone softly teasing now. Robert closed his eyes and shook his head, his frame relaxing a bit. She took it as a cue to push herself to her feet—he steadied her—and she settled down beside him. "If what Mary says is true, he's behaved properly towards Sybil and they've waited patiently for years. I quite admire that. Isobel says this hasn't been a rushed thing; Sybil has had quite enough time to decide, and she's chosen Branson. We must respect her decision, Robert..." Cora trailed off, watching her husband's expression closely. His eyes were distant and his face was tight with worry. Whatever this was, it wasn't solely about Branson. "What is it?"
"I wasn't going to tell you," Robert sighed. "Not until after Matthew and Mary had left..."
Cora frowned. "You're scaring me."
Robert suddenly rose and stepped up to the fireplace, where he put his hand on the mantel and stared down at the flames. "I've made a terrible misstep," he said tightly. Cora watched his back, seeing the tension there, and tightly clasped her hands together in her lap. Robert turned to look at her. "I...made a bad investment during the war. I've lost half the money."
Cora blinked, putting her hands down on the sofa to steady herself. "'Half'? What do you mean 'half'?"
"I invested half of your fortune in a single enterprise, and it failed." He swallowed, clearly fighting to keep his composure. When he finally won the battle, he moved to sit back down beside her. He took her hands and gave her a sad smile. "I must thank you darling, for prompting me to reconsider my original plan, which had been to invest the whole of our money in that enterprise. We would be having an entirely more horrible conversation right now if I'd gone through with it." He touched her cheek. "You have given us a reprieve, at least. Matthew believes there is still a chance for us to pull through, although only a slim one."
Cora smiled sadly and pressed her hand to his as he drew away. "Don't thank me," she said. "Thank Matthew and Mary."
Robert's brows drew down. "What?"
"It wasn't Matthew's idea to meddle," Cora said quickly. "He'd overheard your plan and he was concerned. Mary extracted it from him, then came to warn me. That's why I confessed my fears to you and recruited your mother to the cause."
Robert exhaled a shaky laugh and looked down. "Oh, thank God for you all...!" But his expression grew bitter. "And yet how unfortunate you should be, stuck on a ship with such a captain at the helm!"
Cora pressed her lips together and drew herself up. "You've done a better job of navigating the rough waters than many men in your position. I'm grateful that you're at the helm."
He only shook his head.
"I expect we'll need to change the way we do things," she said.
He looked up at her, apology in his eyes. "You might dislike the changes."
"Don't worry about me," she answered, smiling. "I'm an American. Have gun, will travel."
His eyes grew damp and he drew her close for a brief kiss. When they parted, she lifted her chin.
"Now, about this business with Sybil and Branson..."
Robert sighed. "I must be quite sure of her. The financial loss changes things. Medical school is a large expense, and it would be a waste of money we do not have to spend if we supported her and then she had to leave school because their marriage was discovered, particularly if she is found to be with child."
"I know," Cora agreed with a frown. "Their plan seems foolish. And yet, I cannot help wanting them to succeed."
Robert sighed.
"What will you do?" she asked.
"I don't know yet. She's put us in such a position! If we make a big flap about Branson, it will become a story that people talk about: the earl's daughter who ran away with the chauffeur."
"The former chauffeur," Cora corrected. "He's practically middle class now."
Robert shook his head, closing his eyes with a soft chuckle. "What Mama would say if she could hear you now."
"She's become quite fond of Matthew."
Robert opened his eyes. "She's not the only one." He sighed and looked at Cora. "How did we come to this place, after all our efforts?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "One married to a thoroughly middle-class lawyer, the second to a baronet of no consequence who is twice her age, and the third engaged to an upstart Irish former chauffeur?"
"It could be worse, Robert," Cora replied, raising her eyebrows. "If our first plan had worked, Mary would be the Duchess of Crowborough, as miserable and withdrawn as the current sad mouse who holds the title, and Edith would probably have become our nurse in our old age."
"What a dreadful thought," Robert said, then winced. "But the thought of Sybil married to even a former chauffeur isn't much more appealing."
"Then perhaps it's for the best that they have reason to keep it quiet. And just think, if they don't make their marriage public until after she's established, by then everyone will have quite forgotten that Branson was the chauffeur."
Robert exhaled a short laugh and dropped his head, giving a heavy sigh.
"Well, whatever you decide, I will support you in it," Cora said. "You are a good man, Robert, and a good father. And I'm proud of you for working through Matthew's proposed changes to the estate. I know it must be difficult for you to contemplate."
"It's not as difficult as I expected," Robert answered. "But it requires...an adjustment."
"Such is life," Cora observed, getting her feet. "Now. Come out and be a proper host. We don't have much time left with Mary and Matthew before the move, and everyone is anxious to mend fences."
Robert sighed and stood. "Yes, my dear."
And they went out to face the storm together.