We finally come to the end of Sybil and Tom's wedding weekend, with the couple bidding farewell to Mary, Edith, and Anna. But before they depart, an important conversation needs to be made, and a "hatchet" of sorts, needs to be buried...
I've recently received some lovely messages, both here and on tumblr for this story from new readers and followers, so it is TO YOU that I am dedicating this chapter!
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Thank you, as always to everyone for following, reading, and reviewing!
Chapter Thirty-Five
The cab pulled up to the curb of The Shelbourne and Sybil was already opening the door before it had come to a complete stop. "Easy, love—"
"Time?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she began to climb out.
Tom had barely managed to get his wallet out of his pocket to pay the driver. He glanced at his watch. "Five minutes late at most," he told her. That's not so bad, considering…
He shook his head at the not-so hazy memory of what he and his wife had done over the past hour and a half. Best not to think about such things as he was preparing to sit with his sisters-in-law.
Sybil was bouncing on the balls of her feet rather impatiently as he finished paying the driver before climbing out of the cab to join her. "We're newlyweds, love," was Tom's answer to her anxious expression. "I think we can be forgiven if our punctuality isn't spot on."
Sybil flushed a dark crimson, and Tom couldn't help but smirk just a little; clearly she was also remembering what they had been doing not so long ago. "Yes, well…I do not think such explanations will be so readily excused by my sisters," she mumbled, before linking her arm with his and practically dragging him through the grand hotel's doors.
Tom still continued to smirk. "You mean they'll tease you without mercy," he chuckled.
Sybil sighed. "Precisely."
They passed through the opulent lobby and went straight to the dining room where they quickly spotted the two Crawley sisters, sitting at the same table where they had been the last time he had been with them, sipping tea and looking ever the perfect picture of English manners and posh propriety. Edith was the first to notice them, quickly putting down her teacup and actually rising to her feet. "Oh! There you are!" she giggled, and despite Sybil's earlier mutterings, she abandoned his arm to embrace her sister, giggling as she did so, especially when Edith called her "Mrs. Branson".
"I think you mean Lady Sybil Branson," Lady Mary politely corrected, her eyebrows raised, but an amused smile on her face as she rose to greet Sybil. "After all, despite all your efforts in leaving your old world behind, you are still, and always shall be, Lady Sybil, no matter what your surname is."
Tom's brow furrowed at that; he couldn't deny this was something he had wondered. So even in marriage to me, she's still a Lady…well that'll amuse Mam; a "Branson aristocrat".
It was then that he realized his new sister-in-law was looking at him. "Good morning, Bran—I mean, Tom," Lady Mary corrected, a slight blush to her cheeks as she "demurely" looked down to hide her embarrassment. Whatever his opinion of the eldest Crawley sister, it could not be denied that she was trying, for Sybil's sake, he knew, but she was making an effort, which was more than her parents could say.
"Good morning, milady," he politely answered, his own cheeks blushing as he realized the mistake he had made. Sybil had beamed when she heard her sister call him by his Christian name, but he didn't miss the little frown she gave him when he didn't answer likewise. It was going to be a great adjustment for them both. Tom cleared his throat and moved to pull back Sybil's chair for her. "I hope you had a pleasant day in Dublin yesterday?" he continued, glancing at his sisters-in-law who had returned to the chairs they had risen from.
"We did, thank you," Lady Mary politely replied, putting on a smile, though Tom could tell it was…not forced, but not exactly "natural" either. If anything, it was…unsure. This was highly unusual, of course—the ex-chauffeur sitting and having tea and breakfast with the Earl of Grantham's daughters as if he were "one of them". Only it was far more complicated than that, of course; he was their brother, now.
"And you?" Lady Edith asked, smiling at both he and Sybil while she began to pour them each a cup of tea. "Did you have a pleasant day?"
"Edith!" Lady Mary hissed, her eyes wide and her face darkening.
Edith's brow furrowed in confusion. "What?" She honestly didn't think she had asked anything out of the ordinary, but then she glanced at Sybil, who was looking down at her lap, and from what Tom could tell, was biting her lip in a great effort not to laugh…and it was then that Lady Edith suddenly realized. "OH!" she gasped, practically dropping the teapot. And her face turned the deepest shade of red Tom had ever seen, and Sybil couldn't hold her laughter back and any longer.
"Um…yes, yes we did," Sybil giggled, despite the looks of embarrassment and disapproval she was receiving from her sisters. She turned and smiled at him, her own pretty face flushed and pink, but mischief and mirth reflected in her eyes. "Didn't we?"
It was his turn to flush deeply. Pleasant doesn't even begin to describe it…
"Alright, alright," Lady Mary muttered, giving Sybil a look of warning, but Sybil only laughed all the more, before finally taking a sip of her tea in an effort to contain herself. Edith simply looked mortified.
It was at that moment that a waiter came to relieve all of them, taking their breakfast orders, as well as providing them with a plate of fresh scones, toast, butter and jam. That in of itself was a feast to Tom. "It's rather strange, isn't it?" Lady Edith remarked, to anyone in particular (no doubt in an effort to relieve her embarrassment). "Being served at breakfast," she continued.
"That's what happens when you stay at a hotel," Lady Mary simply answered, before taking a sip of her tea.
Tom kept his comments to himself; aye, that was true, but he was never in a situation when several hot serving dishes were placed at one end of a room, and he was allowed to help himself to as much as he wanted. All his life, breakfast mainly consisted of a some sort of thick (and often bland-tasting) porridge, with perhaps some toast and the occasional sausage. His eyes moved over to Sybil and he felt his heart sink slightly as he knew that the breakfast she was about to partake in with her sisters would be the last "fine" breakfast she would have for quite some time.
"What time is your ferry?" Sybil asked as she helped herself to a scone.
Lady Mary arched a delicate eyebrow. "Eager to be rid of us so soon?"
Sybil answered that with a roll of her eyes, to which her sister chuckled.
"Actually…" Lady Mary glanced at him, before flitting her eyes towards the door. "I thought we could all take a stroll after breakfast," she glanced at him again. "Together," she emphasized much to Tom's surprise. He would have thought that the sisters would want a chance to be alone, and was prepared to go and sit somewhere while they said their goodbyes. But there was no mistaking Lady Mary's meaning or the look in her eyes as her gaze held his. This was very much an invitation for him.
"Oh that sounds lovely!" Sybil grinned, turning and looking at her husband, while reaching for his hand under the table to squeeze it. He glanced at her and saw the hope in her eyes at this inclusion, and he couldn't help but smile back and return the squeeze.
"Aye," he murmured, before turning and nodding his head at Lady Mary. "Aye, that would be very nice. Is there anywhere in particular you would like to walk?"
Lady Mary shook her head and proceeded to spread some jam on her toast. "Wherever you think is best," she answered, not bothering to glance at him this time. Tom couldn't help but quietly chuckle at that; he might be her brother-in-law now, but it would still be a long time before she didn't see and speak to him as "the chauffeur".
The meal proceeded from there, with Tom sitting and quietly observing as his wife and sisters-in-law chatted, mainly about various "summer plans" once Lady Mary and Lady Edith returned to Downton. Every so often he found himself glancing out of the corner of his eye at Sybil, wondering if the talk was reminding her of the things she wouldn't have, of the life she had left behind and if she missed it…
But Sybil smiled, politely nodded her head as an earl's daughter would have been taught, but her smile never betrayed any hidden sadness or melancholy for that life, and he couldn't help but feel some relief wash over him when her hand sought his out and gave it a tender, loving squeeze.
"You must write to us when you do take your honeymoon," Edith added after a moment. "Or send a postcard! I'm sure Galway is lovely, especially in the summer."
Tom smiled and nodded his head for politeness' sake, though he did notice a little, and somewhat mischievous smile on his wife's lips, hidden by her teacup from her sisters, but not so hidden to his eyes.
"If I knew that you cared, I'd send you the news about the Season," Lady Mary teased.
At this, Sybil sat up a little, looking curious. "Are you still going to London?" she asked, looking back and forth between them both.
Lady Mary sipped her tea. "Perhaps," she answered after a moment's pause, her voice soft and her eyes focused on the brown liquid in her cup. "It will depend certainly on how both Mama and Granny are feeling."
He found his wife's hand under the table and squeezed it; he didn't have to look at her to notice that she had stiffened at the mention of her "ill" grandmother and "recovering" mother, who were unable to make the journey for the wedding, but may perhaps make the journey to London for the oh-so-important "Season". Tom had to concentrate on keeping his mouth shut.
Sybil, however, was not so forgiving. "Yes, no doubt Papa is eager to get back now that the War is over," she mumbled, looking down at her own cup. "And I'm sure he'll want to try and 'smooth things over' when the gossip starts."
"Sybil…" Mary sighed, but Sybil lifted a hand, an indication for her sister to cease from saying anything further, to which Lady Mary silently agreed, much to Tom's surprise.
Sybil rose to her feet then and put on a bright smile, an obvious mask to hide the hurt feelings she still (understandably) harbored towards Lord Grantham. "Come…let's fetch Anna and have her join us for our walk! It would not be right to leave her behind on such a beautiful day," and so not even fifteen minutes later, the five of them were strolling down the street, Sybil leading the way as if she had lived in Dublin all her life. Tom couldn't help but smile at the sight of her linking arms with Anna and Edith, and speaking as if she were a tour guide, pointing out various things as they strolled ahead of both him and Lady Mary, who had fallen back several steps from her sisters.
"Bran—" Lady Mary blushed and cleared her throat. "—Tom," she corrected. "I wonder…if we might have a word?"
Such an odd phrase, because it was never just one word, and he had a feeling this was going to be several. He glanced at Sybil, who was still moving at a good pace in front of him with both Anna and Lady Edith, and he looked back at his sister-in-law, whose eyes looked…rather imploringly at his own. The only other time he could recall seeing her look at him in such a way was that first night when she and Edith had arrived in Dublin, and she had asked then, like now, if she could "have a word" with him. "Aye, of course," he murmured in answer, his steps slowing even more, letting some distance grow between the two of them and the others. Tom's hands were clasped tightly around his back as both he and his sister-in-law continued to move, their strides matching one another.
He waited, patiently, for Lady Mary to begin with her "word", but she didn't speak. He did notice, however, when he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, that she was running her gloved hands together as if she were warming them, despite the fine early summer weather (or as if she were nervous, which Tom guessed was the latter). The silence was starting to feel a bit awkward, and Tom didn't know if he should perhaps attempt to say something, just to break it, when Lady Mary abruptly turned to look at him, and asked, "did Sybil ever tell you the story about…what happened when she was born?"
Tom frowned. "No…did something happen?" Both he and Sybil had told one another stories about their childhoods, but had not gone into great detail about the times when they were born. As far as he knew, she had been a perfectly healthy baby, and had entered the world with no complications.
Lady Mary smiled at this, and Tom could tell she was recalling a memory. "I was five years old when she was born," she began. "And…I remember everyone saying that they were so sure Mama was going to have a son at last. Granny, Papa, Carson…even Dr. Clarkson. They were just so certain the baby was going to be a boy…that I found myself believing it too. And I also found myself looking forward to having a little brother—in fact, I decided early on that I wanted a brother, quite desperately," she softly chuckled at this, and Tom did find himself smiling a little at the story. "And so the day came…and…well, you know."
Tom's smile widened a bit and he did chuckle himself at that. "Another girl," he sighed, to which Lady Mary nodded. "Was his Lordship disappointed?"
Lady Mary looked thoughtful. "No…or, if he was, it was only for a fleeting moment. I on the other hand…"
"You?" Tom asked with a little surprise, as well as amusement. He could suddenly imagine Lady Mary Crawley as a child, pouting at learning that the brother she so desired was another sister.
Lady Mary nodded, looking a tad guilty. "Keep in mind I was only five," she reminded him. "And my five-year-old mind blamed Sybil entirely for being a girl. I was so cross, I didn't want to have anything to do with her—I didn't even want to see her!"
Tom's eyes widened. "I imagine that didn't go over very well with his Lordship."
Lady Mary snorted. "Indeed, it did not. But I was a stubborn child—shocking, I know," she muttered sarcastically, and Tom couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Despite Nanny's efforts, I refused to see my mother, and not even Carson could convince me to leave the nursery. No, Papa himself had to come and fetch me, and you can imagine how he felt about that."
Tom winced slightly, because he could imagine it. "I'm guessing that did the trick."
Lady Mary nodded again. "He didn't even have to raise his voice, but I didn't dare question him or speak back. I went, though I went reluctantly, and told myself with every step that just because I was going to greet my new sister, didn't mean I had to like her. On that, I remained stubborn. So…" she paused in her story, just for a moment. "…I arrive at Mama's door, and knock, and upon being granted entrance, opened the door with my chin lifted, and walked across the room to where my mother sat, holding Sybil in her arms."
She paused again…and Tom found himself leaning in a little closer, eager to hear more.
Lady Mary's eyes seemed to have drifted off…as if she were reliving that moment all over again.
"I was just going to kiss Mama's cheek, and then leave the room, that was all…but…" she swallowed. "But…but Mama turned Sybil towards me, and said 'say hello to your new sister'…and…and I looked down at her, fully prepared to despise her as I had planned to do…" she swallowed again, and Tom could see her eyes misting over. "…And…and yet…"
"You fell in love with her," he finished, his voice soft, but very understanding.
Lady Mary let out a long exhale, but nodded her head. "I did," she whispered, trying to regain some composure to her voice. "I did," she repeated, this time glancing back at him and smiling. "It was impossible not to, really. I mean…that's her power, isn't it?"
He wasn't going to argue with her. His own eyes grew soft as he thought about the woman he had fallen so deeply in love with after he had come to Downton, and who, by the grace of God, was now his wife. As his sister-in-law had said, it was impossible not to love Sybil.
"She became my dearest treasure," Lady Mary continued after a moment, her eyes now fixed on the back of Sybil's head. "I more or less decided right then and there that I would look after her, be her protector, keep her from harm; when she had a nightmare, it was I dried her tears. When she was frightened that there were monsters under the bed, it was I who looked and told her there was nothing to be afraid of."
Tom's smile widened once again, imagining the scenario quite easily.
"And if there was ever a storm, it was my bed Sybil sought—she would climb in and I would wrap my arms around her, and run my fingers through her hair, and whisper whatever I could to sooth her until she fell asleep…" she paused, both in her retelling and her walk. Tom paused as well and looked at her, waiting for her to continue either. Lady Mary glanced at him, and bit her lip, looking unsure if she should speak whatever was on her mind, but after a moment's hesitancy, finally said, "…You see…I was her protector. I was there, with her in the nursery, as was Edith, of course, but being the eldest, Sybil looked to me, and…" she looked down at her hands, and Tom simply waited patiently.
Lady Mary swallowed and finally lifted her head, and again Tom saw that her eyes were moist again. "As children, I always believed it was Sybil who needed me, who relied on me, but…as we've gotten older, I…" she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "…Somehow…somewhere in the midst of all this, everything changed."
Tom's brow furrowed. "Changed, milady?"
Mary nodded. "Yes, because…" she looked back at him and Tom saw it there again, that rare moment when Lady Mary Crawley, who guarded her emotions and her heart so closely that only a blessed few, like Sybil, ever saw her in such a vulnerable state as this, and that Tom could truly only remember once or twice in the past when he had seen her like this himself, after Sybil's injury in Ripon, and when he took her to the hospital after Mr. Matthew had returned from the War.
"Because…" she repeated again. "…I see now that I need her—no, I've always needed her, but…but I've only become aware of it as I am about to lose her." She turned her face away then, her hand going to her mouth as if to hold back the sob that threatened to burst forth. Tom did not want to cause her embarrassment, but at the same time, he did not want to turn away from her either. He glanced ahead of him, grateful, actually, that the others weren't looking, and quietly searched for his handkerchief, offering it to his sister-in-law without making a show, to which she accepted and whispered the softest "thank you", before discretely dabbing at her eyes.
Tom remained by her side, her words sinking over him. "Beggin' your pardon, milady," he murmured after a moment. "But…you haven't lost her…nor will you lose her. She won't be in Yorkshire, true, but…she'll always be your sister and…despite what you may think," he discretely coughed, recalling Lady Mary's words about how Sybil would always choose him, "she does need you—both of you. There's no denying the love she feels for you and Lady Edith, and you brought her such joy in coming here. And for that, I know I will always be grateful."
Lady Mary lifted her eyes to him and Tom smiled back at her, feeling a sense of understanding passing between them. And this was affirmed by her next words, when she handed him back his handkerchief. "I will not insult your intelligence by saying that I was in favor of your pursuit of Sybil, or of the engagement that eventually came of it…"
Tom did smile wryly at that, the conversation between them at the Swan Inn coming instantly to mind.
"…However, as I said, I have always viewed myself as Sybil's protector, and…that wasn't just against you, but really any man who made eyes at my sister."
For that, Tom could not deny he was grateful to Lady Mary for. He remembered when he and Sybil were in London, and it was revealed that Sybil would be meeting with an old family friend by the name of Larry Grey, and though he had never met the man, Tom couldn't help but think the worst. But he had a good feeling that Lady Mary would have done her best and risen above and beyond to make sure that the bastard kept his hands to himself.
"My prejudices weren't so far removed from Papa's," she continued to tell him, and though she didn't specify, Tom knew to what she was referring.
"You mean to tell me this whole time you've been bowing and scraping and seducing my daughter behind my back?"
"…However," she sighed, looking back at him. "Unlike Papa, I had seen the way the two of you looked at each other that night at the inn…and it didn't go unnoticed that you were in a chair while she was in the bed—and fully dressed," she added, causing them both to blush. "And then when you both stood before us all in the drawing room…and again, on the day Sybil left Downton…I saw it," she held his gaze. "It was so obvious, and impossible to deny…the love you clearly felt—feel for her."
He swallowed and quietly nodded his head. "Aye," he whispered. "I do."
Lady Mary smiled and nodded back. "Yes, I know—which is all very good, since she married you," she softly chuckled, though it was not missed by Tom a note of…sadness, in her voice. "I can't help but find myself envying—" she stopped herself, gave a shake of her head as if second-guessing what she had been about to say, and then turned and started to resume their stroll once again. Tom stared at her retreating figure with some confusion, before shaking his own head and quickly following her and matching her stride once more. Whatever it was that Lady Mary had been about to say, she thought best to keep it hidden.
"Milady," he murmured after a moment.
"Oh honestly," Lady Mary groaned. "Sybil is right; we can't go on addressing one another like this, not now that you're both married."
Tom did find himself chuckling at that. "Maybe, but it will take some getting used to."
She didn't argue with him on that.
"…Mary," he tried again, testing the name and frowning at how strange it sounded. "I do love Sybil—with my entire being. And I promise you, I will protect her at all costs—"
"Oh Tom, don't," she sighed, surprising Tom both by how freely she spoke his name then, as well as by her words. "I appreciate what you're saying, I do, and I don't doubt that you will do everything you can, but at the same time, I know my sister—and we both know that she can be a handful, not easily contained, and she's far more stubborn than I ever was," she sighed with a bit of exasperation.
Well, he couldn't deny that.
"And in the end, we're only human. And if the War has taught me anything, it's that human beings are frail things, and no matter how hard we try to keep the ones we love safe from harm, it's an impossible task to do, so please, don't make those promises."
Tom swallowed and simply nodded his head to her request. He didn't like thinking that was true, but he knew she was right. Some things…many things, really, were just out of his control. And his mind did go back to that day when Sybil and his brother and sister had run into trouble on Parnell Street, and he hadn't been there to keep her safe, or when they had gone to Ripon and she had gotten injured. He was there, right by her side, and had been unable to keep her safe, and he hated that, he hated feeling so helpless…
"I do appreciate it though, truly," Lady Mary's words interrupted his thoughts. "What you're saying, especially to me. And I thank you for that. Because…while I don't want you to make such promises to me, I do want you to do everything in your power to keep her safe from harm," she glanced at him and offered the closest thing he had ever seen to what could be called a "sheepish smile" on Lady Mary Crawley's face. "I suppose that's frightfully unfair to ask."
Tom however only smiled and shook his head. "I think that's only natural to ask."
She seemed to smile at that. "Yes, well…I am not as ignorant as Sybil might think when it comes to Ireland; I'm well aware there are tensions, and regardless of what you or your family or even Sybil thinks, she's still an Englishwoman—"
"Mary…" he interrupted, saying her name again, though this time it felt more natural, perhaps because he truly felt like they were on equal footing. "I know you don't want me to make any promises, but…I will promise you this." He looked deeply into his sister-in-law's eyes, not blinking as he spoke. "She means more to me than anything—anything," he emphasized. "I will put her, and the family we will one day create, God willing, before everything else in my life, of this I swear." And he meant it. He loved his homeland. He loved his family. He wanted to be a part of Ireland's independence, he wanted to be present when she became a free state at last, he wanted to raise their children in an independent Ireland…
But never at the cost of the ones he loved.
No, he would suffer permanent exile first, and every kind of torture imaginable, if it meant he could spare his wife from such monstrosities.
I just hope it never comes to that, he selfishly thought, feeling a stab of guilt for thinking such things, but it was true. But so too was the promise he had made to his sister-in-law.
Mary gazed back at him, her eyes searching his as if trying to see if he was being in earnest, or if he was just saying these things to pacify her. But after a moment, she nodded her head, and he could tell without her having to say anything, that she believed him…and was grateful for what he was promising, as well as perhaps a little…amazed, too.
"Tom? Mary?"
They both turned at Sybil's voice, and smiled back at her, despite the questioning look on her face. They didn't say anything further to each other, simply quickened their pace until they were caught up.
The stroll lasted perhaps another twenty minutes, before they finally returned to the hotel, where Tom quietly waited in the lobby while Sybil disappeared once again to her sisters' rooms, where they changed into their travel clothes and promptly finished packing. Thirty minutes later, Sybil, her sisters, and Anna, returned, their trunks being carried by several lobby boys. A cab was called for them, and the trunks were hefted onto the back, with Tom even making sure they were properly tied down (there were some habits no man could escape, even when he changed professions). Both he and Sybil traveled with them to the docks where the ferry awaited, and after the trunks had been unloaded from the cab, and taken on board, only then did they turn to face one another to offer their goodbyes.
Sybil was embracing both her sisters, while Tom turned to speak with Anna. "I really meant what I had said to you, that day when we left Downton," he told her, recalling a different promise he had made. "I will help both you and Mr. Bates—whatever information you can offer, I'll see what I can find, I will help you, Anna; you're not alone in this."
She sniffled and nodded her head in thanks, and then reached forward to offer him a hug as she had done that day they had said goodbye at Downton, to which Tom gladly returned. Sybil then came to embrace Anna, offering Tom the opportunity to say goodbye to his sisters-in-law.
"It was a beautiful wedding," Edith told him with a sweet, polite, but also sincere smile.
Tom smiled back and nodded. "Thank you…and thank you both, again, for coming."
"Of course," Mary replied, but Tom knew she understood the magnitude of this visit, and what it certainly had meant for Sybil (especially after their conversation).
"Hey," he turned to Edith. "You do have a talent for driving; keep practicing," he encouraged, to which she blushed but smiled. Lady Edith then awkwardly stepped forward…before finally (with a bit of a laugh at her own expense) managing to kiss his cheek in a sign of sisterly affection. Tom returned the kiss, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed at the reminder that he was now the Crawley sisters' brother. This brought his eyes back to Lady Mary, recalling everything she had revealed earlier about always wanting a brother.
"Well, you both must write to us," Mary insisted, and reached forward then to take Tom's hand in hers as if to shake, but instead of shaking it…simply gave it a squeeze. "And I mean that…both of you."
Tom returned the squeeze and smiled. "Aye…we will, I promise."
A knowing smile was passed between them then at those words, but also one filled with understanding, which was true; Tom truly did feel that he and Lady Mary Crawley did understand each other, or at the very least, understood each other a little better than before.
A whistle blew, and Anna turned to her mistresses. "Time to board, milady," she announced.
Lady Mary sighed and nodded her head, and Sybil was there again, with her arms around both her sisters, hugging them fiercely and telling them with tearful words that she loved them and would miss them, and thanking them over and over as Tom had done, for coming.
The whistle blew a second time, and Tom put his hands on his wife's shoulders, gently coaxing her away, and she allowed him. They lifted their hands and waved farewell to her sisters and Anna, and remained there on the docks, even after the anchor had been lifted and the ramp removed and the ferry had begun to sail away. Tom was prepared to stand there for the rest of the afternoon, if it would make Sybil happy, but after ten minutes had passed, and the ferry began to grow distant, Sybil turned in his arms and wrapped her own around his waist, before laying her head against his shoulder and sighing as she breathed in the scent of his skin at his neck. She hummed her approval, and Tom found himself recalling how she held his bottle of aftershave that morning, sneaking sniffs of it every so often while he shaved. That thought, and the memory of her request all those months ago in the Swan Inn, when she had asked if she could watch him shave, did bring a smile to his face.
"What were you and Mary talking about?" he heard her ask, her question breaking through his memory. She lifted her head away from his shoulder and looked into his eyes, searching for an answer. "Or is it something private between brother and sister?"
"Lord, I don't know if I'll ever get used to thinking that," Tom chuckled, avoiding her question, which she clearly was aware of.
Sybil sighed. "It was about me, wasn't it?"
"I thought I was the one who was 'frightfully full of themselves'?" he teased.
Sybil rolled her eyes. "I know Mary means well, and I know she worries about me, but honestly Tom, I'm not a child—"
"She's your sister, love; and she loves you," he soothed, lifting one hand to brush a stray curl from her brow. "And she is aware, honestly, that you can take care of yourself—but at the same time, it's only natural to be concerned. I'd be the same way with my own siblings—am the same way."
She didn't protest or argue further, she simply sighed and let her head fall back to his shoulder once again. "Fair enough," she mumbled.
Tom smiled at that and turned his head so he could kiss her brow. They stood together like that for a long time, just holding one another. Though she hadn't said anything about the matter, he knew Sybil was sad to see her sisters go. "We'll write to them every week, if you'd like," he said after a while.
Sybil sniffled...but then Tom realized it wasn't a sniffle he was hearing, but…a giggle? He frowned and looked at her with confusion on his face as she leaned away from him, her hand rising to cover her mouth as if that would somehow contain her giggles. "What?" he asked, curious to know what she had found to be so funny.
"Oh, I…I was just remembering what Edith had said earlier, when we were having breakfast," she explained, before giggling anew, her face growing pink. "About…" she had to pause to try and get control of herself. "About…sending her a postcard…when we go on our honeymoon."
"Aye…" Tom remembered the conversation, as well as the mischievous smile that Sybil had tried to hide behind her teacup.
Sybil looked at him, and that mischievous smile quickly returned, as well as…something else. "Well, I just think it's funny that…she expects we'll have the time or the energy to write a postcard, much less go somewhere to find one…"
Tom stared at her…and felt his own face grow hot at the indication she was making. I married a minx. He would need to keep that in mind when he was thanking the Almighty in his prayers.
"…And speaking of which…" Sybil pressed herself against him and there was no denying her implication. "We still have the rest of today to ourselves, before going back to our work lives tomorrow…"
He nodded his head. "Aye," he swallowed. "And…what do you propose that we do, Mrs. Branson?"
She blushed and bit her lip before glancing down at his body...and pressing herself against his growing arousal. "…I should think the answer to that question is rather obvious, Mr. Branson."
He groaned before capturing her lips in a deep, searing kiss to which Sybil whimpered and quickly returned, both of them wanting more, desperately. It took all their strength to pull apart from each other, and keep themselves from pawing at one another in the cab ride back to Mountjoy Square. They had barely made it through the door of their flat, before they were on the floor, tearing desperately at buttons and clasps, before finally, in a heated, pleasured gasp, they were one once again.
It was fast and quick, and they were both panting when it was over, but smiling too, as they curled together there, amidst their jackets and rumpled clothes on the floor. "Oh Tom…" Sybil sighed, her lips grazing the skin of his collarbone. "I honestly don't know how we'll manage tomorrow…"
Neither did he, especially now that the floodgates had been opened.
He lifted his head and looked down at her. "But it's isn't tomorrow yet, love," he growled, before lowering his mouth again to hers, to which Sybil purred in agreement, before pulling his body to cover hers again.
Indeed…this was only the beginning.