Now I have many ideas in my life, some good and some bad. And while this idea seemed like a good before, is now beginning to not look as good.
Lady Sybil had wanted to see the Liberal candidate speak at the Ripon city hall courtyard and since her and I have been bonding over politics, she insisted that I come along with her. But as it went on, I became increasingly uncomfortable and bit upset with the crowd that surrounds us.
"Last June saw Emily Davison crushed to death beneath the hooves of the king's horse! Will the summer of 1914 prove as fatal for the hopes of women? It cannot! This historic by-election can be the first step of the journey to women's equality!" The speaker yells over the noise of the crowd.
"If you're so keen on women's rights, let a woman speak!" A woman cries. I try to focus but being jostled by the crowd makes things difficult.
"But why stop there? Let's get the dogs up and listen to them bark!" A man adds. Then something is thrown at the speaker.
"Women! Women...are thrown out of jail...!" The speaker continues.
Mr Branson then appears next to Lady Sybil and I.
"Are you all right, milady? Emma?" He asks.
"Isn't it exciting?" Lady Sybil asks.
"It'd be great not to get crushed as well!" I say to them. Mr Branson then moves to try and keep the crowd away from us a bit more.
"Only to be dragged back inside!" The Speaker says.
"You're an idiot!" A man yells.
Suddenly Mrs Crawley pushes through the crowd and reaches us.
"Sybil, I think it's time for Branson to take you and Emma home!" She says. Despite the lack of interaction between us, it is actually quite nice to know that she knows my name.
"Not yet." Lady Sybil responds.
"I think so. I applaud your spirit in coming, and I will applaud your discretion when you leave!" To be honest right now I felt like listening to her words.
"Maybe we should My Lady." I call.
"But you agree with everything he says?" Lady Sybil says to the two of us.
"I do, my dear, but I also know if anything happens to you, Branson, and possibly Emma, will lose their place."
"Better safe than sorry, milady." Mr Branson says.
"...is an act of mercy. I disagree." The Speaker yells in the background but at this point, Mr Branson puts an arm around us and pushes a path for us through the jeering crowd.
"The car is just here." He says once we are out.
"Women must get the vote, mustn't they? Why does the prime minister resist the inevitable?" Lady Sybil utters as Mr Branson pulls us to the car.
"Politicians can't often recognise the changes that are inevitable." Mr Branson says, opening the car door for Lady Sybil and she steps in while pulling me in along side her.
"You're telling me." I remark. Branson chuckles at my statement.
Once we are settled and on our way, I turn to the two of them. "I don't think I'm supposed to sit at the back."
"You've just been to a political rally and that is what you are concerned about?" Mr Branson sarcastically asks. I roll my eyes knowing he'll see it through the mirror.
"I say it's fine Emma." Lady Sybil says kindly.
—
Later, when we are further along, "I hope you will still get into politics. It's a great ambition to have."
Mr Branson sighs. "Ambition or dream? If I do, it's not all about women and the vote for me, nor even freedom for Ireland. It's the gap between the aristocracy and the poor and..."
"And what?" Lady Sybil probes but she doesn't sound upset.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to speak against His Lordship."
"Why not? You obviously don't approve of him."
"Not as a representative of an oppressive class. But he's a good man, and decent employer." He concludes.
"Spoken like a true politician." I remark. Mr Branson and Lady Sybil chuckle.
Lady Sybil then begins trying to fix her appearance, which has been disrupted. "What do I look like? Could you sneak me around the back? I should hate for Papa to see me like this."
Mr Branson nods and turns the car in the direction of the back of the 'house'.
—
Lady Sybil and I enter through the back door. I hear Mrs Patmore yelling at Daisy, I know that she is losing her sight and fears the operation but she literally can't carry on like this.
Lady Sybil runs into William as he exits a room holding a candelabra. This causes me to stumble into the back of her.
"Oh!" She exclaims.
"Excuse me, milady." William says apologetically.
"It is alright William." She says "I'll be upstairs with Emma." It seems only then that William notices me.
"Very good, milady." He says.
I follow Lady Sybil upstairs to help her change from her outing. It's ridiculous the amount of times they have to change in one day.
—
It turns out that Mr Bates had accidentally informed Lord Grantham that not only did Mr Branson and I had gone to the Liberal rally today and that Lady Sybil had gone with us. This led to a dressing down for his daughter and then also his wife who had given the okay for Lady Sybil to go.
"Her Ladyship's not best pleased at being told off in public. William said she was looking daggers." Anna tells the others in the servants hall when we enter.
"I'm sorry I started all this." Mr Bates remarks.
"Ah, it's not your fault. Anyway, he ought to be glad he's got a daughter who cares." Mr Branson tells him. Me and him share a smile.
"You were not to know that he wasn't aware. He's probably mostly mad that he was not in the loop." I add.
Thomas enters. "Her Ladyship's ready to leave."
Mr Branson gets up from the table. "I'll bring the car around."
"Are you pleased with yourself?" Thomas says to Mr Bates. They stare at each other before Thomas follows Mr Branson out of the room.
"Silly chump." Anna says grinning at Mr Bates.
"He's nervous. He thinks I'm planning to tell Mr Carson about the wine." Mr Bates says.
"What? You saw Thomas stealing wine?" I ask. Though technically I already know this but I had hoped it had all been forgotten about after the snuff box incident. This was bad, now Thomas has another reason to get rid of Mr Bates now that Mr Bates is threatening Thomas' job.
"I did," Mr Bates replies. "Now he's worried about what I'll do."
"Well, he shouldn't have stolen it then, should he?" Anna remarks.
"No. But I don't want anyone to lose their job because of me."
"Even Thomas? Even after what they tried to do to you?" Anna asks surprised.
"Even then."
"But he doesn't know that." I remind them. "What if they accuse you first."
—
And they do, Thomas, Miss O'Brien and even Daisy lay accusations on Mr Bates over him stealing the wine instead. I can't seem to get a hold of Thomas on his own to talk to him, I know that he worries that I might talk him out of it.
In other news, Lady Sybil had tricked her father into letting her have Mr Branson take her into Ripon on the false pretence that she's going to a meeting for her bird talk charity when really she wants to go to the counting of the votes. Her father insisted that she take someone else with her and for some reason he has let her take me even though I was there at the last incident.
Plus in less exciting news Lady Mary is putting off Sir Anthony Strallen's attempts at wooing but Lady Edith is open to it instead, which Lady Mary won't like. So that's great.
—
While Mr Carson has not done anything about the accusations, Mr Bates is still down in the mouth considering that despite working at Downton for two years, Mr Carson is suspicious. Though Anna points out to him that the fact he hasn't told Lord Grantham about it shows that he is not truly believing the accusations. It is difficult as if Mr Bates accuses Thomas now as it won't sound genuine. To be honest, I mostly leave Anna to do all the comforting.
—
Mr Branson drives the motor car around a corner, Lady Sybil and I in the back seat.
"Where to from here, milady?" He asks.
"What do you mean? We've arrived."
"The meeting's in one of these buildings here?"
"This is the meeting. We're here for the counting of the votes." I explain. I feel bad for lying to him in the first place.
Mr Branson stops the car and looks back at us. "I don't understand. I thought that..."
Lady Sybil and I get out of the car. "Don't be silly, Branson. You didn't think we'd miss our very first by-election?"
The car behind him beeps.
"I don't think His Lordship would approve."
"Let me worry about him."
"Well he does have to worry about his job milady." I remind her.
"It'll be fine." She replies. The car honks again.
"I have to park the car. Don't move. Stay where you are!" Mr Branson orders.
"Really, Branson, I thought I gave the orders." Lady Sybil quips. I let out a snort as that was actually quite funny.
Lady Sybil walks into the courtyard with me behind her, leaving Mr Branson to park.
—
A man reads off the vote count as the crowd clamours and jostles each other. I cling onto Lady Sybil's arm so I don't lose her and she does the same.
The announcer speaks through some sort of speaker thing, I dunno it's 1914, "The Honourable Joseph Gerald Antsy for the Conservative and Unionist Party: 6,363 votes…"
"Vote for women! Vote for women!" A woman cries.
"Martin James Dillon, for the Socialist Party: 2,741 votes."
Mr Branson soon gets to us in the crowd. "Can we call it a day, milady? Emma?"
"Don't be silly. This is the moment we've come for." Lady Sybil replies.
"Trevor Andrew Morgan, the Liberal Party..." The announcer has trouble being heard over the crowd.
"This lot aren't interested in politics. They're spoiling for a fight." I glance around at the crowd and I begin to wonder if he is right.
"...is duly elected...is duly elected to serve as Member of Parliament...Member of Parliament..."
"Sybil!" I hear someone yell, I turn to see that it is Mr Crawley standing there.
"...for the Ripon constituency."
"What on earth are you doing here?" He asks.
"I couldn't miss this." Lady Sybil says.
"Couldn't you? I could."
"I don't like the look of this, milady." Mr Branson says looking behind him.
A man comes near us and Mr Branson confronts him. "Look, look, I'm on your side. Don't cause any trouble; you have to believe me."
The man shoves Mr Branson aside and confronts Mr Crawley. "What's your problem, then, Mr La-di-da?"
"My problem is you." Mr Crawley replies. Oh yes that's going to calm him down.
"Oh, aye?" The man tries to punch Mr Crawley, but Mr Crawley punches back and I then feel myself being knocked into and falling to the ground. I bump my head on a low table and then everything goes black.
—
The next thing I know is I am being carried out of the car into, what I then realise is, Crawley House.
Then Mrs Crawley is there. "Here lay her down." I am then placed on the sofa still barely awake.
"Is she alright?" I hear Mr Branson ask. I wince in pain as Mrs Crawley then starts dabbing at a wound on my head.
"She will be." Mrs Crawley replies.
"We need to get Mary." Lady Sybil says. "Hopefully she'll help soften the blow to papa."
"I'll go milady." Mr Branson says. I then hear him leave. I drift off again.
—
Mrs Crawley rings out the blood into a bowl as she treats my head wound as I regain consciousness when Lady Mary enters. This going to sleep after getting a head wound is probably not one of my most brilliant ideas.
"My God." She exclaims before turning to her sister. "Oh, my darling..." They hug each other. Lady Mary then turns to me, "Dear god…"
"I didn't know what to do, so I had Branson bring her here." Mr Crawley says.
"Quite right. Mama would have fainted if she'd seen her like this with the thought that Sybil was there as well. As for Papa..."
"This will sting a bit, but it's stopped bleeding." Mrs Crawley dabs at my head again. She's right it does sting. She then turns to her son. "Did you know she was planning this?"
"Of course not."
"Well, what were you doing there?"
"I was working late. I'd forgotten it was election night or I wouldn't have stayed." He explains.
"I'm so grateful you did." Lady Sybil says to him. I'm not really, can't help but feel like he made it worse.
"I could ring Branson's neck." Lady Mary says.
"What was he thinking? I'm afraid it'll cost him his job." Mr Crawley adds.
"No." I weakly protest.
"She's right." Lady Sybil says. "It is not his fault. I told him he was taking us to a committee meeting. When he realised what it was, he wanted to come straight back."
"You'll have to stick up for him, because Papa will skin him alive." Lady Mary says.
Mr Crawley then crouches next to me. "Are you feeling strong enough to go home?"
"I think so, if it's not too much trouble." I reply.
"Not at all." Mr Crawley smiles and offers me a hand to help me up.
"Here, wear my coat to cover the blood. You'll look more normal." Lady Mary says once I am standing, placing a coat over my shoulders.
"Lean on me." I do so and he leads me out to the car with Lady Sybil close behind.
"You should thank Branson as well." Lady Sybil says once we are in the hallway. "He carried you out. A real hero I think." I look at her in surprise and blush when I see the smirk on her face.
Once we get to the car, Mr Branson opens the car door and helps Mr Crawley get me in the back.
"Thank you." I murmur to him as I hold his hand to get in. He smiles gently at me. In the end he's the real hero, not Mr Crawley.
—
Mr Crawley helps me out of the car and leads me towards the front door.
I halt then. "Should I be going this way?"
"I think they'll let you off this time." Mr Crawley says. Suppose he's got a point as the door to the back entrance is all the way down the side. Going through the front door, then up the stairs to my room is much quicker.
The commotion of us coming in alerts the family in the drawing room.
"My god!" Lady Grantham exclaims. "What happened?"
A thunderous look crosses Lord Grantham's face as he looks at Lady Sybil as he probably realises she may have lied about where she went.
"I think it's best that we get Emma to her room so she can rest." Mr Crawley says. He and Lady Sybil pull me through the servants' door and up to my room. I am glad that I won't have to be there for the argument that is surely going to follow. Hopefully I'll still have my job tomorrow. Though maybe me being 'victim' as I got hurt, may work in my favour.
—
Once I am settled, Lady Sybil says she'll send Gemma up to check on me as she then leaves the room, Mr Crawley had not come inside.
It is not long before Gemma bursts into the room. "Lady Sybil just told me what happened! Are you all right? Is it still hurting? Are you comfortable? Are you-"
"Gemma!" I yell before realising that was a mistake and I rub my head in pain.
"Oh sorry."
"Yeah you should be." I send her smile to show that I am joking. She laughs quietly in an obvious attempt to not irritate me further.
"Well other than the hand," Gemma says. "I've got some news on the wine incident."
"Oh?"
She nods. Gemma then goes into explaining what happened. Turns out the guilt got to Daisy and she's confessed to not being honest. She was there when Mr Carson questioned O'Brien and Thomas. It seems he's not going to do anything now but Mr Bates has confessed to not always having been moral and offered his notice, which Mr Carson refused.
"Wow you miss a lot when you bump your head." I joke though slightly relieved the worse is over with the wine. Gemma laughs.
—
Gemma offers to sneak Thomas in for a visit as he's asked but I say no. I don't really want to talk to him now with his recent behaviour. It doesn't come to me before and only comes when his tail is between his legs? I had already forgiven him the last time.
The next day Anna visits me to tell me that Mr Crawley had proposed to Lady Mary! But apparently she has not said yes yet due to not wanting to lie about Pamuk or not marry him 'in a lie'. I don't fault her but she really should not make him wait too long.
A/N: Get your main character injured and in bed and it turns into the shortest chapter ever. Literally I was like you let Emma be the one that hurts her head but by the time I had begun writing that, I realised she misses the fallout of the wine incident in this episode. I realised I needed to add my own scenes at the end to finish it off better. Though not going to lie there was some scenes before that I skipped over as I just didn't want to write them.
Btw definition for by-election if anyone was confused (maybe not but I thought I'd put it in): A by-election, also known as a special election in the United States and the Philippines, or a bypoll in India, is an election used to fill an office that has become vacant between general elections.