What Now?
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey.
I've decided Sybil's death was unnecessary, just because Jessica didn't want to do the show any longer. As Sybil didn't wish to live at the Big House anyway, it would be possible to keep her character alive without the audience seeing her. And I've thought of several plots if she did live so…
This AU exists in the same universe as "Love and Freedom," but if you don't wish to read that story first, the most important thing you need to know about it is that Sybil did NOT have a nursing job in Ireland. (A combination of prejudice against the English, her married status, time consuming household chores, and pregnancy complications made it impossible.)
Oh, and if you don't know
OOOOOOOOOOO is time change
and XXXXXXXXXX is POV change
Sybil smiled as Dr. Clarkson pressed his stethoscope to her daughter's chest. "Well, this young lady is healthy," he said with a nod. Then, finishing the examination, he removed the stethoscope from his ears, smiling.
"That's great to hear," Sybil said with an even larger smile. She cuddled Constance Sybil Branson's tiny body closer. She was two weeks old, and such a wonder.
"Now I'm afraid I need to examine you as well, Lady Sybil. If you could remove the child…" his eyes stared at the baby still resting in her arms.
She nodded and carefully placed her daughter in the cradle she'd convinced Papa to have in her room. Then she sat back on her bed and took a deep breath as her childhood doctor studied her breasts.
"And you're lactating normally, as Miss Constance seems to be doing well?" Dr. Clarkson said deliberately avoiding Sybil's eyes as he spoke.
Another thing Papa didn't understand was Sybil's decision to feed her daughter herself. "Yes," she said to the doctor, also not looking at him.
"And you are…flowing in this area," the doctor gestured toward her womanhood, "like you would in a monthly?" his Scottish brogue sounded a bit thicker as he spoke now.
"Yes," Sybil said staring at her hands, wishing she wasn't required to speak of such things to the same man who treated her for a bee sting when she was five years old.
"Quite good," Dr. Clarkson said, still without looking at her and with a thick Scottish brogue. "But you do understand that even when your…flow is finished you mustn't…be involved with your husband for another month."
"Involved…" she said, confused for a moment. Then she suddenly she understood, although she wasn't truly interested in love – making now and hadn't been since Constance had been born. Sybil was tired, sore, and out of touch with her life. Most of all, she felt rather unsexy. "Quite."
Suddenly she had an idea that might help her feel more like Sybil. "Would you be interested in me working at the Downton Hospital again in the future?" Finally meeting Dr. Clarkson's eyes, they widened in surprise.
No doubt he thought she'd given up nursing, since the war had ended and especially considering she'd married and had a child. Of course, Sybil had been forced to do so in Ireland, but perhaps in Yorkshire, a nursing career might be possible for her again.
"I am not certain we will be staying here," she said before the doctor could make any big plans. "But I know we cannot return to Ireland, so I wondered if working there were a possiblity."
Nodding, Dr. Clarkson said, "I would be happy to have Nurse Crawley at Downton Hospital again."
Grinning back Sybil shook her head. "I would be 'Nurse Branson' this time." Pausing for a moment, she then said, "And would 'Nurse Branson' only be there because I am a member of the Crawley family?" She'd constantly dismissed it when doctors in Ireland told her that's why Dr. Clarkson had hired her, but now she needed to know.
Dr. Clarkson's eyes grew wider than when she'd asked him about nursing a few moments ago. She supposed all those months in Ireland had made Sybil much blunter than she had been in the past, and some weren't used to it. "Well…" he sighed and looked away from her. "I must admit, I am obligated to hire anyone who is a part of The Family."
Sybil's heart sank. So, what had she been doing for two and a half years? Were her nursing skills worth anything? She fought back tears.
"But truly, you were a great nurse and a pleasure to work with, Lady Sybil," Dr. Clarkson's voice continued, breaking through her disappointment. "Many of the soldiers appreciated your care and comfort, and you know Mrs. Crawley was equally impressed with your skills. And she has…rather low patience for the favoritism your family sometimes receives."
Sybil met the doctor's eyes and slowly smiled, remembering how Cousin Isabel had complained of such things.
"I must insist, however that you cease…lactating if you do come back to work," Dr. Clarkson said, once again avoiding Sybil's eyes. "I would prescribe a medication that would assist with this, and you could feed your daughter with formula and a bottle."
Struggling with this information, Sybil didn't answer. Naturally she couldn't feed Constance herself and work at the same time, as her baby needed to be fed every other hour and her blouses were often wet with milk even when the baby was not sucking on them. Why hadn't that occurred to her before?
It seemed that she would still be forced to choose from the simple life of equality and no servants that she and Tom wanted and her desire to work as a nurse. But Cousin Isabel's praise of her skills still danced through her mind, filling Sybil with longing.
OOOOOOOOO
She was still remembering Cousin's Isabel's praise of her nursing skills a few hours later as Constance finished her latest meal.
Just then, the door opened, and Tom entered with a big smile on his face. "How are my girls today?"
Sybil smiled as she patted Constance's back, encouraging her to burb. "Wonderful. Dr. Clarkson was here earlier today, and he said we are both doing well since the birth." Then she paused, uncertain of how to mention the possibility of returning to nursing at Downton Hospital.
Tom grinned even wider and kissed both of their heads. "I knew that already, but it's nice the doctor agrees. Meanwhile, I've arranged for her Christening at St. Michael's in Rippon for August 2." His voice quickened as it always did when he was excited, and Sybil smiled even more in response. "I've also written to Kieran about being her godfather. Since he's moving to Liverpool to start the garage, it fits perfectly."
Sybil nodded as Constance finally let out a burb. It would be nice for Tom and their daughter to have Kieran closer, as Sybil remembered only two well how expensive round-trip boat and train tickets from Dublin to Yorkshire were. But the mention of the garage bothered me. She knew Kieran had asked Tom to be a partner in the garage, but her Tom was better than that.
"I agree, but I'd like to ask Mary to be a godparent as well," Sybil said, deliberately changing the subject from Kieran.
Scowling, Tom shook his head. "No, Sybil. I know she's your sister, and I admit, Mathew is a nice bloke, but Mary isn't someone I'm comfortable ."
Sybil pressed her lips, struggling not to move her hands as she became cross, but she couldn't let go of Constance. "I don't believe that matters, Tom. Mary is still my sister, just as much as Kieran is your brother. And she has already agreed to fight on our side for a Catholic Christening, against Papa and Reverend Travis if need be." An idea that hadn't occurred to her entered her mind just then. "That is, as long as your church doesn't mind that Mary's not Catholic."
Tom's scowl disappeared immediately, and his mouth dropped open in shock instead. "Oh," he finally said. "As long as one of the godparents is Catholic; it's fine. * I just didn't know you'd already spoken to her…or anyone in your family about the Catholic Christening."
Sybil shook her head. "Well, that will teach you not to underestimate me. I admit, I'm not looking forward to telling Papa about it." As narrow – minded as he was, she could already hear him raging against his granddaughter being baptized at a Catholic Church. Papa had veiled comments about how un-English it was and how corrupt the Pope was for years.
"But" she looked directly into her Tom's blue eyes as she spoke. "I've already promised you that our children would be Catholic, and I stand by that, even if we aren't in Ireland any longer. You and I are a team, and we will argue for our right to do so, just like we did when we announced our engagement."
Tom's blue eyes sparkled with awe and delight. "Thank you, mo ghra," he said, using the special Gaelic endearment that he'd that they'd learned in Ireland. It meant "my love," and Sybil adored when he used it. With that, he leaned in closer and kissed on the lips.
Sybil yawned, despite herself, as they withdrew. She'd been awake half the night with the baby, after all. "I should take a nap, especially if I intend to have dinner in the dining room to announce our plans for Constance's Christening."
Tom nodded, his blue eyes still sparkling. "Of course. Let me take her so you can rest." With that, he carefully removed their daughter from her arms.
Sybil laid down and closed her eyes, the image of Tom holding Constance still in her mind.
OOOOOOOOOOO
A few hours later, Sybil dressed for dinner after having fed the baby again. It felt unnecessarily frivolous to dress in a fancy gown, gloves, and jewelry just for dinner, but she knew she had to obey the rules of Downton as long as they were here. Even Tom now wore tails to dinner.
She just hoped her milk would not leak on her dark blue silk gown, especially as Granny was dining with them tonight.
"Are you certain you are all right to eat with us?" Papa said softly, staring at Sybil as she entered the drawing room. "You are still recovering from birth."
Sybil sighed, annoyed by his overprotectiveness. "I'm fine, Papa and so is the baby."
"I believe she's recovering well, Lord Grantham," Tom said firmly if a bit pushy. Sybil smiled at him; glad they were a team.
After that, she carefully made her way to Mary, Tom began speaking with Mathew quietly and Papa spoke to Granny. "Tom and I would like you to be Constance's godmother; especially since you agreed to fight on our side for a Catholic Christening. Tom's brother, Kieran, will be the godfather," Sybil said as she sat down on the settee.
Mary's face softened in a way she didn't normally allow people to see for some reason. "Of course. I would be happy to do so." Sybil's heart warmed in response, and her chest felt a bit wet from milk.
Later, she spoke to Edith. "How are you doing, since…it happened?" Sybil wasn't certain how to discuss her wedding.
Edith shrugged, her face downcast. "I don't know. I'm trying to accept the fact that I'll never be married." Sybil sighed, wishing Edith wouldn't be so defeated. "But I have an opportunity to write for an editor in London." Her face brightened just a bit at that. "Naturally, Papa hates the idea, but I think it sounds rather interesting."
Sybil grinned widely in response. "It sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you, Edith." She reached over to take her sister's hand, squeezing her glove in support. "And don't listen to what Papa says. You would be much happier if you would do what is right for you rather than constantly seeking our parents' approval."
Edith sighed. "Perhaps, but that is easier for you than for me."
OOOOOOOOOOO
"We've arranged for the baby's Christening," Tom said as they all sat down to their honey glazed ham.
"Yes," Sybil said firmly, wishing to show this was her decision as much as her husband's, whether her parents' approved or not. She and Tom were a team. "It will be in two weeks at St. Anne's Catholic Church in Rippon." She waited for the explosion from her family, like the one when she and Tom had announced their engagement.
Papa did not disappoint.
"Sybil don't be foolish; Crawley's are not Catholic," he said, almost barking.
Tom scowled at Papa. "Well, as Constance is a Branson, rather than a Crawley, that doesn't matter. The Christening will be held in two weeks at St. Michael's, and anyone who would like to attend is welcome." With that, he took a bite of ham.
Papa scowled again. "In a family like ours, it wouldn't be appropriate."
"Well, Mathew and I are going," Mary said staring directly at Papa. "I must, especially as I've agreed to be the baby's godmother." Sybil mouthed "thank you" to Mary.
Granny stared at Sybil's chest for a moment without saying anything, and Sybil knew Granny had noticed her wet spots from leaky milk. She waited for Granny to lecture or imply that Sybil should not be nursing her child, especially as it caused such accidents.
But Granny loved to shock.
"I will go as well," she said, and Sybil and Tom stared at her, especially considering Granny was normally just as narrow – minded as Papa. "The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk is a good friend, and she's more Catholic than the Pope." With that, she sipped her wine like her statement was completely normal.
"Well, I went to a Mass in Rome once, and it was too confusing," said Papa, as if that explained everything.
OOOOOOOOO
But in the end, all of Sybil's family entered St. Anne's Catholic Church, even Papa, for the christening. No doubt Mary and Granny insisting that they would attend convinced him.
Their daughter wore the christening gown traditionally worn by all Crawley's of Downton and was baptized Constance Sybil Branson by Father Dominic, with Mary and Kieran standing for her.
Afterwards, everyone happily posed for pictures, taking turns holding the baby. Sybil smiled at how much everyone loved her daughter. Even though Tom's family in Ireland was no longer available, she knew her daughter would still grow up surrounded by love.
Especially as Mathew solved the problem of what Tom was to do now that journalism was no longer an option. He'd offered Tom the job as estate agent, which fit perfectly as Jarvis had just resigned and Tom had farming knowledge from his grandfather (and his sister, Brigid). It was a job worthy of his intelligence.
OOOOOOOOOOO
Unfortunately, Tom didn't agree.
"I cannot believe Mathew," he said as he and Sybil climbed into bed that night. "Thinking that I'll jump at the chance of being the 'estate agent.' He scowled. "Usually I consider Mathew a friend, but today…" he shook his head. "It's a good thing I have Kieran's offer to work in his garage in Liverpool."
All the tension that had been building inside Sybil about Kieran's garage exploded from her at that moment. And it didn't help that Sybil was still annoyed because Granny had discretely lectured Sybil about "the problems of nursing in their world," indicating the wet, milky spots on her formal dress. "Tom you're worth more than what Kieran has to offer," she said as her hands pounded the mattress. "It would be like going backwards. Mathew's offer is a way to use your intelligence."
Tom's blue eyes widened in response, and he moved away from her, even though they still sat on the same bed. "So, you're ashamed of me now that I'll be working in a garage?" He spat out the words. "When I was a journalist, I was good enough for you, but now I'm not any longer?" He pushed himself further away on the bed and continued scowling. "I thought better of you, Sybil."
It was as if she'd been slapped.
"Tom, of course I'm not ashamed of you!" she said, hurt and cross at the same time. "If I was, I would never have married you. But I always knew you were made for better things than just working with motors. Don't you remember how excited you were when you spoke to me about politics and making the world a better place? It seems as if you are settling by accepting Kieran's offer."
Tom shook his head violently. "Well, as I've always loved working with automobiles, I can assure you that I won't be 'settling' by working with Kieran. Besides, I'm not giving up journalism and Irish politics for good. The government in Ireland will change eventually, and when the Irish Republic is officially accepted, then we can return, and I should be able to get a job at another paper. Probably not as large as The Irish Times, but it will be something."
Sybil paused, understanding more of her husband's plans, but still not willing to accept the job in Liverpool. "I understand that you expect to return to Ireland eventually, but Constance would still be better off if we stayed here for now. When we lived in Dublin, I looked forward to her being surrounded by loving relatives. Here, she's still surrounded by loving relatives, although not the same ones." Despite her lingering anger, Sybil smiled at how all her family showed their love for the baby today. "In Liverpool, she wouldn't have nearly as many relatives nearby."
Still scowling, Tom said, "Yes, but this isn't the best lifestyle for Constance to grow, even if it is only for a couple of years. All these unnecessary servants and pointless etiquette that encourage people to think they're better than others." He glanced around the bedroom, still decorated with too many priceless ornaments and furniture. "And I know they are your family, and we tolerate them, Sybil but I thought you didn't like this lifestyle, either. You made it perfectly clear when we became engaged that you could wait to be rid of it." His voice seemed to blend between cross and hurt, as if the young woman he'd married had disappeared.
Just as cross and hurt that Tom would lose faith in her, Sybil said, "Naturally, I don't want to live in this house longer than necessary, Tom." Her hands flew in the air in frustration. "But the agent's job comes with its own house on the estate. We could move in there, and make our own rules for how we live, but still be close to the people who love Constance."
Tom sighed. "I'm sorry; I should have known better than to think you wished to live in this house. But even on the estate is a bit too close to the fancy life. And the idea of being an agent is still incredibly distasteful." He scowled again. "In Ireland, estate agents have always been considered people who 'accommodate with the English,' and just as much enemies as the lords."
Sybil sighed, understanding why that would bother her husband's republican's sensibilities. Still, she huffed. "But we aren't in Ireland anymore, Tom, and that's because of something you did." The moment that she realized that Tom had done what the government accused him of, instead of being falsely accused, flashed through her mind.
"Sybil, that's not fair!" Tom said, even louder than before, and sounding kind of tearful.
Immediately, she regretted saying that. "Tom, I'm sorry," Sybil said firmly, knowing how much he regretted being a part of burning the Drumgoole's home. "But here the tenant farmers rely on the agent as much as Papa does," she said, returning to the important topic. "Besides, Mathew really appreciates your ideas."
"Maybe, but I'll never belong at Downton, Sybil," Tom no longer scowled but his voice was loud and firm. "The sooner we move to Liverpool, the better things will be."
"But will it be better for me?" Sybil said in the same loud, firm voice, pounding the mattress again. "In Ireland, I couldn't work as a nurse as I expected and learned to accept that, but here I could. I've already spoken to Dr. Clarkson, and he's willing to rehire me, perhaps even part – time so I could still do all the household chores without a servant when we move. And Papa would provide Constance with a nanny if I asked." In the past two weeks, Sybil had decided a part term nanny would be acceptable, if it meant she could have a real job again. And her voice ached with longing at being able to be a proper nurse again.
Tom scowled again, obviously becoming ready to argue again, but still continued, saying, "We named Constance after a woman we both admire: Countess Markiewicz who was both an Irish freedom fighter and a working woman. But has it occurred to you that I could emulate her more, here? I gave up both my family and my dream of working for you in Ireland, Tom. It's time for you do the same for me."
Tom shook his head, still scowling. "It's not the same thing, Sybil. You wished to move to Ireland. I was forced to return to Downton."
Sighing, Sybil laid down, too tired to continue. Her husband was so stubborn; it was like arguing with a brick wall. Tom laid down too, but still with a large space between them on the bed.
Tonight, she and Tom were not a team.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
OOOOOOOOOO
Cora had heard Sybil and Tom argue the night of the Christening; she was certain everyone did. And it caused an ache in her mother's heart. But she had learned from Mary and Mathew that some couples argue more frequently than she and Robert did. As long as they fixed things quickly and became the team they should be, it mattered not.
OOOOOOOOOOO
But Sybil and Tom did not fix things quickly. The argument about whether they would live on the estate with Tom as the agent or move to Liverpool dragged on and on, despite Mathew's constant encouragement that he would like to have Tom's help with the estate.
Robert, who had been starting to warm to Tom since attending the Christening, now constantly scowled at their son – in – law and referred to him as "Branson" in private. Cora understood that her husband hated to see Sybil hurt and didn't wish their daughter to leave again. But she also knew this argument was not all Tom's fault, any more than it was all Sybil's fault.
The argument continued almost every time Sybil and Tom were in the same room together for over a week when Cora decided to help them. She hoped they wouldn't be offended, as Cora knew how invasive a meddlesome mother – in – law could be. But she also could no longer watch them in pain when they should be a happy family with their daughter.
What if, as much as they obviously loved each other when they married, their chance in lifestyle and inability to understand each other caused their feelings to fade, as what happened to Cora's parents?
OOOOOOOOO
After luncheon, Cora discretely knocked on the bedroom door, fairly certain that Sybil in there by herself. "Come in please," her daughter's voice answered.
Cora opened the door slowly and found Sybil holding the baby gently, attempting to burb her. The little girl appeared completely content, milk dripping from her chin, and Cora couldn't help but marvel how easily motherhood came to her daughter. She smiled proudly. "She appears well. You both do."
Sybil smiled at her mother. "Absolutely." Then returning her attention to the baby, she added. "Dr. Clarkson says she's eating wonderfully." With that, the baby let out a soft burb. Sybil prepared to stand up and place the baby in the cradle, but Cora stopped her.
"Could I hold her for a bit?" she asked, longing to feel the little girl in her arms again.
Sybil smile grew even larger. "Of course." With that, she gently transferred the baby into her Granny's arms. Cora gazed at the little innocent life, her wisp of dark hair and blue eyes reminding her so much of Sybil when she was a baby.
"I'm so grateful that everyone here adores her," Sybil's voice said as Cora continued to cuddle the baby closer. "In Ireland, we were surrounded by Tom's family, but now we are surrounded by ours."
"Look at you, Sybbie," Cora said in a little voice she'd used when her children were small.
"Her name is Constance, Mama," Sybil said, sounding a bit annoyed.
Cora still couldn't look away from the baby's sweet face. "I know, but I cannot help but call her 'Sybbie,' considering her middle name is Sybil and she reminds me so much of you."
Sybil didn't answer.
Finally tearing her eyes away from her granddaughter, Cora turned her attention to Sybil. "I'm worried about you and Tom."
Sybil sighed rather loudly. "I am too, but he won't listen to me, Mama! He refuses to understand why staying in Yorkshire would be better for us. He's stubborn pushiness has always been something I find annoying as well as something I love about him." She smiled softly, almost as if in a tender memory. "I adore the fact that he's not afraid to fight for what he believes."
Cora nodded, wondering what Sybil would say she understood that very well. Robert may have different values and priorities than Tom, but he fought just as hard for something he believed, whether it was his country, his estate, or his family.
"But it can be a bit much when he won't see sense!" Sybil said, her voice growing louder. "He claims I'm ashamed of him, because I don't want him to take the job in Liverpool." She spat out the last of her words, and her left hand flew a bit.
Cora smiled softly, despite her daughter's frustration. Of all her children, people said Sybil was the most like her. And Cora knew Sybil resembled a Levinson, with her dark hair, blue eyes, and the same almost Semitic – colored skin that Cora's father had had. And she liked to think Sybil's optimistic nature and ability to see people despite their backgrounds came from Cora.
But Sybil's stubbornness and temper came directly from Robert. They were both quicker to anger than Mary and Edith, raised their voices in anger, and moved their hands as they lost control of themselves.
Luckily, Cora was apt at lovingly defusing such a temper. As gently as she could, she said, "I can see why that would upset you, but has it occurred to you that Tom might have reason to believe you're ashamed of him?"
"Absolutely not!" Sybil shouted, not defused at all. "I know some of this family still can't look past the fact that he's Irish and he used to be our chauffer, but I've never let that bother me. It's just better for all of us if we stay in Yorkshire."
Gazing at her granddaughter, still cuddled in her arms, Cora hoped that was true. But Sybil needed to accept that it may not be. "Perhaps. But it may be necessary for you move to Liverpool, anyway."
Sybil huffed and shook her head. "Mama, I know that you are expected to 'obey' Papa, but that is not the way things are with Tom and I, as our wedding ceremony didn't require it. We are a team."
Cora sighed. Sybil had some serious misunderstandings here. "First of all, I don't defer to your father nearly as often as you seem to think. Your father is a man who needs to be led gently and quietly in private." She thought of all the times that she'd led Robert gently to decisions such as the convalescent home, Sybil's marriage, and most recently, attending their granddaughter's Baptism. "We are a team, too."
Sybil huffed again, making it clear she didn't believe Cora.
"But more importantly, I don't believe you and Tom are behaving like a team right now," Cora said as calmly as possible. "You are both insisting you are right, rather than truly listening, much less understanding the other's point of view."
At Cora's words, Sybil grew tense again. "He certainly isn't listening to me!" She said louder again, pounding her hand on the mattress.
"But are you trying to understand why he thinks you might be ashamed of him, Sybil?" Cora said with a sigh. "Like it or not, our world is very critical of a person's background, and the fact that he was a chauffeur and is Irish is something some are going to judge him constantly."
"I know that, Mama," Sybil said, sighing herself. "What hurts is that Tom thinks I'm one of those people just because I won't move to Liverpool. And why are you encouraging us to move to Liverpool, anyway? I thought you would like us to stay nearby." Sybil's voice blended between cross and hurt at that last sentence, and Cora's heart broke.
"I would love for you, Sybbie, and Tom to live on the estate," Cora said firmly, her eyes looking from her daughter to the granddaughter in her arms and back to her daughter again. The prospect of seeing Sybil and Sybbie on a regular basis was an alluring one. "But Liverpool is still closer than Dublin, and we could visit each other by train, just as we do Rosamund. What I truly want is for you, Tom, and your daughter to be happy together."
"I appreciate that, Mama, but I don't see how we could be happy if Tom keeps choosing himself over me and Constance." Sybil's voice had dropped, but she still didn't sound happy. "In Ireland, I thought I could be a nurse as well as Tom's wife, and that turned out not to be possible, but I eventually accepted that. But Dr. Clarkson is willing to hire me at Downton Hospital again if we stayed on the estate. And I don't think anyone realizes how important nursing is to me." Her voice grew louder again at that last sentence. "Not only that, but here Constance would have a loving family surrounding her. But Tom won't consider staying here for our sake." She pounded the mattress again.
Cora paused for several moments, trying to think of what to say. "I think there may be a reason why he won't consider it, and it because of his background. Tom may be rather sensitive to this issue, so he's interpreting everything, even you're argument, in that way. I was never certain your father could accept my background until he took me to America to visit my parents for our first anniversary."
Sybil's eyes widened, at the reveal of that secret.
"Sometimes, actions speak louder than words," Cora said, looking directly into her daughter's blue eyes.
The room was quiet after that, and Cora hoped her daughter was thinking about everything she'd told her.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
The next morning, Cora strolled outside, hoping to find Tom and give him something to think. Eventually, she found him standing on the edge of the garage, even though he wore a nice suit and Stark tinkered with the motors.
"Hello, Tom," she said, playing with her parasol to soothe her nerves. "I hear your daughter is very healthy and happy. She a delightful little girl." Memories of when Cora had held Sybbie yesterday flashed through her mind, and Cora smiled.
Tom brightened just a bit at the mention of his daughter, just as Cora knew he would. "Yes, she's just as sweet as her mother."
Cora nodded, seeing the opening she'd been looking. "Quite, but I'm afraid Sybil isn't happy at the moment. She believes you're 'choosing yourself' over her and Sybbie."
"Her name is Constance," Tom huffed, just as Sybil had the day before. "And this kind of thing is one of the main reasons why I have to leave Downton soon. No one is willing to see my side of things, and I feel more like an outsider here than ever." His voice grew louder as he grew more cross. "The other day, the Dowager spoke to me about all the 'dangers' that Constance would have if she grew up in a garage. But it's truly the only place I can feel at home right now."
He scowled and his head moved toward the inside of the garage.
Cora's heart throbbed for the boy. No wonder she'd found him here. It also seemed as if he had a similar temper to Sybil's and Robert's. She only hoped her calming methods would succeed with him as well. "I'm sorry you feel that way," she said as gently as possible. "And you may be interested to know I spend yesterday afternoon speaking to Sybil about reasons why Liverpool might be a valid option."
Tom's mouth dropped open, not bothering to hide his surprise. "Oh," he finally said. It was disappointing that Sybil hadn't shared that conversation with her husband last night, but there were other things to discuss.
"I'm not trying to favor one location over the other," Cora said. "I just hope the two of you will be a happy family with your daughter, and that cannot happen if you do not try to understand each other.
Tom sighed. "My mam said something similar to Sybil and I last year. At the time, I thought Mam was just dismissing our relationship, considering it was so difficult for her to accept us as a couple."
Cora smiled, moving her parasol to look at the boy's face closer. "It was not, Tom, and I'm happy to hear your mother was a wise woman. Any person who has been married for a number of years knows that compromise and sacrifices are an important part."
"Sybil and I have made several compromises in the past year," Tom said with a huff. "I know we are both stubborn and passionate, so we argue frequently, but it doesn't normally last this long. I have made her happy in our marriage." He sounded defensive and he scowl appeared on his face, although his voice didn't grow louder.
Twirling her parasol a bit, Cora sighed. It was understandable that the boy thought everyone here blamed him for their marriage struggle, especially as they were Sybil's family. And Robert's constant scowling and grumbling at Tom did not help. Perhaps she'd remind him again that no matter what the boy had done, he was still their granddaughter's father, and therefore, part of their family.
Out loud, Cora said gently, "I know Sybil was happy with you in Dublin, as I remember her delight in her letters. She loves you, Tom," she said more firmly, reaching over to pat the boy's hand.
"Sybil told me that she sacrificed quite a bit for you when the two of you moved to Dublin last year because she loves you," Cora said. "She believes that it's time for you to do the same for her, because if you stayed in Yorkshire, she could work at Downton Hospital again. And nursing is so important to Sybil; she feels important and fulfilled there."
Tom sighed, wandering around the edge of the garage. "She certainly blossomed when she was nursing." Despite his obvious frustration, his face turned tender. "It was during one of those trips to the hospital that she revealed to me that she could no longer be happy as a great Lady."
Staring at the ground for a moment, Cora tried to hide her hurt from that comment. Sybil and Tom's relationship had been building for a lot longer than Cora had possibly realized. She supposed it was another consequence of becoming overly focused on the convalescent home.
Then Tom sighed and shook his head. "But I'll still never belong here, Lady Grantham, and I cannot be an outsider any longer." He looked longingly at the garage again.
"It may surprise you, but I know exactly how gloomy being an outsider can be," Cora said calmly, despite her heart beating faster that she was revealing something she didn't normally share. "I grew up with a Jewish father who bought his way into New York society and our family still wasn't accepted in a lot of those circles because of his background. And here, many people will claim I don't understand anything because I'm 'American.' I don't know if you've heard them, but Mary and Mama say that quite frequently to me, even now."
Tom stared at her intensely, as if he were trying to reconcile what Cora was telling him with the English lady, she tried so hard to be. In a way it was nice to know she'd acted so well that he'd never noticed Cora's insecurities, but it made this conversation more difficult.
"Truly I know it's hurtful," she said, a bit firmer. "But try not to dwell on it so much, and don't hold it against those that make…comments. Their additude is only a part of who they are. They are also good, kind, loving people."
Shaking his head before she even stopped speaking, Tom said, "It's not the same thing; people here have a much lower opinion of Irish than Americans. Besides, Lord Grantham doesn't even wish to try to be kind to me, and I cannot work for him again under such circumstances." His voice grew louder again and another scowl appeared on his face.
As much as she loved Robert, Cora wished he wasn't making things so tough for Tom right now. Still, she sighed. "Tom, I know my husband can be difficult, especially when you don't know him. But he's not as bad as you think; he just takes a long time to accept change and is rather protective of his family. But he's also an incredibly loyal man, and he'd do anything for you once you've been accepted into that family." Cora's mind flashed to the way he'd embraced Marmaduke into the family before his parents did, because Rosamund wished to marry him, and all the ways he'd helped Mathew adjust to being the new heir and she couldn't' help smiling.
Tom shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I cannot work for him."
Cora sighed. She had one last point. "Well, try to remember that is not Lord Grantham's idea for you to be the agent; it is Mathew's, and at this point, he owns half of the estate. And Mathew has made it clear you will not be working for him; you will be working with him. He is very interested in your ideas for the farms."
Tom sighed, still not looking happy.
"Sybil told me the two of you were a team," she said gently, looking closely into the boy's eyes. "I hope you will be that again soon."
Tom still didn't smile.
"Well, I've said everything I wished," Cora said. "I won't protest if you wish to stay here, but as it appears like it might rain," she glanced at the greying skies. "I suggest you come inside. Perhaps visit Sybbie before luncheon."
"Her name is Constance," Tom said with a grumble, but he still followed Cora back to the house. Perhaps he wasn't' feeling like such an outsider now, after all.
*This is still true in the Catholic Church today.
Unlike most stories, this one will not have a set ending. I cannot decide whether it would be better for Tom and Sybil to stay in Yorkshire or move to Liverpool. Furthermore, there are consequences and benefits to both choices that they won't realize until they experience them.
So, I will post one chapter on what happens if they spend the next year in Yorkshire, with Tom as the agent. And one chapter on what happens if they spend the next year in Liverpool, with Tom working in the garage with his brother.