Chapter 2
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Grantham House
London
The Summer of 1885
...
Pale golden candlelight soothed the dressing table, casting a shadow of the elaborate rounded perfume bottles on the surface of the mahogany dresser and a glow across the faces of the three young women in the room.
It had been almost a year since they had last stayed at their father, the third Earl of Grantham's, second residence in London. And if the preparations they had seen around town upon their arrival were telling of anything, it was apparent that the upcoming season would be one to remember.
"For goodness sake", Mary remarked harshly, chatting away with a mildly interested Edith and a politely indifferent Sybil about some family friend who had turned more than a few heads recently on the London social scene. "We all knew she was a social climber but no one said that she was practically a mountaineer."
Sybil had lost track of who the lady in question was at this point and had drifted much too far from the conversation to even try. For now, she was too lost in her own thoughts about her father and grandmother's most recent disapproving remarks about her, perhaps somewhat unconventional, interests.
The most recent reforms of Gladstone's Liberal party and the newly established women's suffrage movement to name but a few of those that were most frowned upon by her largely conservative family.
"My dear girl", The Dowager Countess had remarked, firmly but not totally unkindly. Her eyebrows were raised in a complete lack of amusement. "Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying all of the wrong remedies. I strongly advise a bright young woman like yourself to stay clear of it."
"You didn't agree with Granny's opinions at dinner, did you?", Sybil asked suddenly, eliciting a shared smirk of amusement from her two sisters.
They had both known all too well that she had been off in a world of her own.
Mary smiled kindly at the reflection her youngest and, quite unapologetically, favourite sister as she fiddled with the ribbon that Anna had carefully tied before leaving them for the night.
She ignored Edith who rolled her eyes at her sudden change of demeanour. After all, Mary had the seamless switch from bitter judgment to sisterly concern down to an art form.
"Of course not, darling. But I do think you should keep the politics to a minimum tomorrow night. Liberal policies make for such awful ballroom conversation."
Sybil frowned. If she was being completely honest, she truly had been looking forward to her first London season and official debut in society. For the last few weeks, their Mama had been tirelessly preparing her for it all; the balls, the gowns, the suitors.
It was hard not to find the prospect even just a little bit exciting.
The longstanding tradition was important to her family, whom she loved dearly and would never wish to disappoint. That being said however, she wouldn't give up her beliefs for them, or for any faceless gentleman in London who wished to court her.
She thought of all of the political pamphlets upstairs, tucked carefully between the pages of Charlotte Carmichael Stopes's British Freewomen.
She thought of the notice for the suffragist rally that she hoped to attend while in London. It had been secretly stowed away in the dust jacket of Ms Wollstoncraft's Vindication of Rights for Women.
All she had to do now was figure out how she would get to Hyde Park the following day, if not only to be there in the thick of things for the first time in her life.
"Surely you don't believe any of that ridiculous nonsense about how a woman interested in the world around her is destined to turn into some sort of clinical spinster overnight", Sybil replied determinedly, voicing one of the more bizarre warnings she had heard from one end of their former governesses about women who wanted to know more about subjects that were often deemed appropriate for men alone.
"Is that so?", Mary said, her lips twitching upwards in repression of a smile.
She glanced purposefully over her shoulder at the second Crawley sister, who at up until that point had been simply observing the exchange with an easy sort of amusement.
"Edith, darling. You haven't been accidentally catching glimpses of Papa's morning newspaper, have you? It would certainly explain a lot".
"Mary!", Sybil reprimanded, all too familiar with the task of playing referee between her sisters whom almost always seemed to be at one another's throats.
She really was sick and tired of listening to her two sisters argue so frequently, and found herself briefly considering that Louisa May Alcott truly must have had no idea what it was like to grow up in a family of sisters when she wrote 'Little Women'.
Glaring at her eldest sister, Edith stood up from her original place, perched at the end of Mary's four poster bed. She bit down on her lip, her blonde hair a little mussed from the sudden movement.
"Well I think that's my cue to bid you goodnight", she said hotly, throwing an equally hurt and furious glance to the dark haired sister in question before turning with an outstretched hand to Sybil.
"Goodnight Sybil darling".
Sybil smiled apologetically, squeezing Edith's hand in response.
Silently, she promised that she would try to talk to Mary. She would at least ask her to be a little kinder to their sister. Clashes of personality aside, they were, first and foremost, family.
"Goodnight Edith. Sleep well".
As soon as the door shut once again, Sybil turned to Mary with a frown on her face and steel in her voice. "Mary, must you always be so cruel?"
Mary huffed noncommittally, apparently disinterested with any conversation regarding Edith.
She turned back to her reflection in the mirror of the dressing table without any further ado. "Believe me, Edith can get her claws out too when she wants."
"But she wouldn't have to if you didn't tear her down so much all the time", Sybil said, a hint of a plea in her voice.
"Darling, I have much more pressing things to be worrying about than Edith's feelings", Mary replied dismissively, a silent sigh of frustration passing from her lips that could only ever be linked back to one person entering her thoughts.
A certain gentleman with light blonde hair and a disposition so agreeable that it was almost infuriating.
Cheeks a little flushed, Mary dabbed some perfume on to both of her wrists, clearly hoping that her younger sister would not start the conversation that she could inevitably feel coming on.
Sybil smiled teasingly, at the ridiculous stubbornness of her eldest sibling.
How Mary was still able to ignore her feelings, Sybil could never quite fathom. She was sure that in Mary's place, feeling as intensely as she knew her sister was, she would have exploded long ago.
"You haven't given cousin Matthew any more thought?"
Mary frowned looking up in the mirror to make eye contact with her younger sister's reflection. "What with Mama and Papa trying to fling him upon me at every possible opportunity, how could I not?"
Sybil giggled at the accuracy of the suggestion. She was sure that it had been no accident that Mary and Matthew had been seated side by side for nearly every family dinner for the past few months. "Is that really such a bad thing when it's so obvious that the two of you are in love?"
"It is when Mama is pregnant with a child that could very well take Matthew's place as heir."
Sybil's smile faltered a little bit. The whole family had been very shocked and then elated at the surprise announcement of another Crawley sibling.
Despite that delight of everyone however, it was still very much apparent that such circumstances had left things up in the air for Mary and Matthew's future. "Surely none of that should matter if you truly love him."
Mary smiled sadly, turning around in her seat to properly face Sybil.
Usually she found that her youngest sister was the best person in the house to discuss her troubles with, but it was times like these that she was struck by how very young and still untouched by the realities of the world her sister seemed to be.
Marry purely for love? It was a notion that very few women of their class could even entertain without being cast off by their families.
"Sybil, dear." Mary said gently, squeezing her sister's hand in a way that suggested her wish for their conversation to be well and truly over for the night. "Promise me that you will never change."
Author's Notes: On your way out,please leave me a review. Let me know what you liked, didn't like, would like to see in later chapters etc. Thank you so much for reading. I hope you all have a really lovely day wherever you are at,
Pearlydewdrop xx
A little bit of history:
The National Society for Women's Suffrage was the first national group in the United Kingdom to campaign for women's right to vote. Formed on 6 November 1867, by Lydia Becker, the organisation helped lay the foundations of the women's suffrage movement.
Charlotte Brown Carmichael Stopes (née Carmichael; 5 February 1840 – 6 February 1929), also known as C. C. Stopes, was a British scholar, author, and campaigner for women's rights. She also published several books relating to the life and work of William Shakespeare. Her most successful publication was British Freewomen: Their Historical Privilege, a book which influenced and inspired the early twentieth century British women's suffrage movement. She married Henry Stopes, a palaeontologist, brewer and engineer. They produced two daughters, the eldest of whom was Marie Stopes, birth control advocate.
Mary Wollstonecraft (27 April 1759 – 10 September 1797) was an English writer, philosopher, and advocate of women's rights. Until the late 20th century, Wollstonecraft's life, which encompassed several unconventional personal relationships, received more attention than her writing. Today, Wollstonecraft is regarded as one of the founding feminist philosophers, and feminists often cite both her life and work as important influences.
