"Where is Sybil?"

Tom sat up, and rested his arms on his legs, his lips pressed tightly together.

"Tom, where's Sybil?"

She felt panic quicken in her chest, and her heart began to climb up her throat, worry pulling tight the knot in her stomach that had been there for months now, making it almost unbearable. Heat flooded her cheeks, anger at Tom for not answering her, and anger at herself for not noticing sooner.

"Where is Sybil?" she asked, her voice breaking, and she reached for one of the bed's four posters, steadying herself as the world began to rock back and forth, like a ferry crossing the turbulent Irish Sea. "Tom, answer me. Answer me please!"

She heard the mattress let out a faint whine, and soon, she felt Tom's arms around her, holding her close to his body. She could feel his heart pressing against her cheek, moving quickly, like hers was, and she could also feel the tension in his chest, just as tight as hers.

"Tom, where's Sybil? You said she was coming with you. Where is she?"

"I don't know," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before bending to embrace her more fully

Mairead looped her arms around Tom's neck, pulling him to her and breathing in the smell of soap and the hint of sweat that clung to her cousin. "Why don't you know? Where is she?"

"There was a change of plans," he said, cupping her head in his palm just beneath the knot she'd done it up in when she changed into dry clothes. "Things got mixed up, they moved too quickly, I couldn't….I couldn't….Oh Christ, Mairead! There's no use, I should've known, I should've been more careful. Then this wouldn't've happened."

She swallowed, her chest tightening when she realized that his hands were trembling against her skull, and she unhooked her arms so she could take her cousin's face in her hands. "Hush, col ceathrar*," she said, rising onto the balls of her feet in order to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

She refrained from speaking anything but concern and comfort to her cousin; it was more than clear that he knew he had done something wrong, and she wasn't about to deepen his guilt and shame. He would never do the same thing to her, and so neither would she. If he had chosen to fight on the side of Ireland, she would respect that and wouldn't let it come between them.

"I left Sybil, Mairead. I left her, and our child in a country that is at war with itself, a country that isn't hers, and men like Michael Collins and those who follow him, who will not hesitate to hurt her."

"Is it that bad?"

He nodded. "Yes, and...I thought I could protect her from it, by…" He looked away, and Mairead let go of him.

Her stomach dropped. "Tom, you didn't….?"

"Aye, I did."

She covered her mouth. "Dear God," she breathed, lowering herself onto the bed. "Does Sybil know?"

He shook his head. "She knows I was- I am- associated with the Dáil, because of my work with the newspaper, but it isn't on their orders that we acted…Forgive me, Mairead, please forgive me."

"You don't have t'ask for my forgiveness," Mairead told him. "It's Sybil whose forgiveness you've got t'ask for. Hers and your child's."

"Good God. You're right." Tom sat beside Mairead and reached for her hand, only to withdraw it and curl it into a fist in his lap. "How could I be so selfish? What do I tell Lord Grantham? He'll turn me over if I tell him anything, and I'll have t'tell him something, I know it. What do I do, Mairead?"

"Before I spoke…Before I spoke to Mr. Matthew after I was…attacked, Sybil told me to tell the truth." She stared down at her lap, the inside of her lip caught between her teeth. "That's what you've got to tell His Lordship- the truth."

"What is the truth, though? All my life's been for the past year is the blind leading the blind."

"You're not like the others," she told him. "Let His Lordship see that. Let him be proven wrong. Show 'im the Tom Branson I know, who would do anythin' for his family, who sought'only to protect them."

"Some job I've done," Tom scoffed. "Sybil's alone in Dublin, eight months pregnant, and I haven't a way to contact her. I can only pray that she's still alive."

"I'm sure she is," Mairead said, rubbing gentle circles in Tom's back. "And telling His Lordship about what happened might make things easier for her…I'm skeptical, but it's always worth a try. I'll come by when I'm done with Lady Edith, I promise. Do you need anything in the meanwhile?"

He shook his head. "Just pray for Sybil, please."

"I will. I promise."


When Mairead returned to Tom's room, she found her cousin lying on the bed, one hand behind his head while the other rested on his stomach. She could hear the sound of him crying- she'd heard it once or twice before in her immediate memory- and went to go lay beside him.

They had done this as children, spending nights on the hillside in the late summer, looking up at the stars and humming airs in the mild darkness. Sometimes Sam had been there too, and Mairead would lie between him and Tom, occasionally falling asleep, which meant that either her brother or her cousin would have to carry her home, allowing her to sleep on until morning.

That had been ages ago, it seemed, and Mairead doubted it was still safe to sleep out in the open like that, or even venture as far past Aunt Bridget's farm as they'd done when they were younger.

"How did it go?" she asked, folding her hands on top of her stomach and glancing over at her cousin.

What light there was in the room reflected off his cheeks, showing almost-dry tear tracks and the trembling lips of his profile. Mairead could hear the stutter of his breath- he was trying to calm himself down.

"Lord Grantham's opinion of you doesn't matter, Tom," she said flatly, rolling onto her side and using her arm to prop herself up. "He doesn't know anything about what's goin' on over there, an'if he did, he wouldn'tunderstand. You did what y'ad t'do."

"I left Sybil in Ireland, Mairead! I left my wife, who I promised- in th'eyes of God, I promised i'th'eyes of God!- to protect from her from harm an'never leave, no matter what. "Whither thou goest, I go," Ruth one-sixteen." His eyes were still turned towards the ceiling, towards Heaven, perhaps. "Do y'know how hard it was for me t'tell His Lordship that I left his daughter, who soon'll bear his first gran'child, in a country that hates 'er kind?"

"You didn't leave her, Tom," Mairead said, moving closer to her cousin and placing her arm across his chest. "I don't know what His Lordship told you, but you didn't leave her. Don't let him make you believe that."

"But he's right, Mairead. He's right, and it's all my fault if Sybil's hurt, or if the child...If something happens to the child. I don't want to lose her, I don't want to lose the child, I don't want to lose you, I don't want to lose anything, not anymore than I already have."

"Hush," she said, squeezing his arm. "You haven't lost me, and y'won't lose Sybil or your child."

Tom turned on his side and Mairead let him pull her close. "He said he'll see what he can do."

"His Lordship?"

"Yes. I can't imagine why. I don't deserve it. God knows I don't. I should be in prison, dead, maybe, and Sybil should be here."

"Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom," she murmured, biting her lip. "Don't do that to yourself. Please don't do that to yourself."

"Don't tell me what t'do, Mairead." He pushed away from her and sat up, his legs dangling over the side of the bed and his back to Mairead. "You didn't make the choice, you don't have t'live with it. Just leave me be."

"Tom-"

"I asked you to leave!"

Her teeth dug deeper into the flesh of her lip, and she stood, still watching him. "Tom, I'm not tryin' to-"

"Christ's sake, Mairead, leave!"

She stiffened, watching him with unblinking eyes. If she blinked, he would see that she was crying, and if she wanted to maintain some semblance of strength, she could not cry, not even in front of Tom. "Good night then," she said, retrieving the tray that she'd brought up earlier before she made her way to the door, hoping that her cousin would find peace.

The food on the tray was uneaten.


*cousin