I didn't realize how long it has been since I updated this story. Hope there is still interest in it.

It was one of those glorious English summer days meant to be enjoyed with a cloudless sky a vivid blue and a light breeze ensuring the sun was not too hot. A day perfect for a picnic under the spreading shade of an old Oak tree or perhaps a lazy drift on a narrowboat down a canal or a game of lawn bowling followed by pitchers of lemonade yet all of that seem rather incongruous with the events of the past week. With German mines intercepted near the Thames Estuary, British airplanes sent to France and the first British casualties the war had become a reality.

The war had intruded in to the servants hall as it became a major topic of conversation and, much to the astonishment of his fellow servants, with Thomas volunteering to serve. There had been nary a tear shed at his departure although O'brien probably had some regrets at losing her comrade in deviousness and general unpleasantness. However, the same could not be said for Gwen's departure which, unlike Thomas's departure, had been marked with a cake baked by Mrs. Patmore, well wishes and some tears although a few of those may have been from envy of Gwen's good fortune to escape servitude.

As was his custom, every evening after the family had retired to their rooms, Carson walked around making sure the sitting room had been cleared of any glassware the family might have used in their after dinner drinks and all remains from the evening dinner had been cleared and the dining room cleaned. After making sure the front door was locked, he dimmed the lights in the grand salon before heading down to his office.

The kitchen and servants hall was quiet and dimly lit by a light coming from down the hallway which he realized was Mrs. Hughes' office.

"You're working late this evening."

At the sound of the butler's deep voice, Mrs. Hughes looked up from her desk. His bulk seemed to fill the doorway.

"We've lost another housemaid who's decided to return home so with Gwen leaving yesterday, I'm now down two housemaids." She gestured for him to sit. "It was already a problem distributing Gwen's duties and now with Sally gone" she sat back in her chair. "I'm sure there will be quite a bit of grumbling about the extra work."

"We all have to make adjustments Mrs. Hughes. I've heard a few of the grounds staff are talking about volunteering for the war."

Although she was certainly glad to see the back of Thomas, Mrs. Hughes wished Thomas no ill will. "I wonder how many … how many young men will be …" she left her thought unsaid but Carson knew what she meant.

"The war shouldn't last long I think" Carson replied. "After all we have a fine army."

"I wish I could be as confident as you Mr. Carson. Somehow despite all the talk these last couple of months I'm not really sure how prepared we are."

"Mrs. Hughes" an indignant Carson began but quickly looking at her desk decided to change topics. "I still don't understand it."

"Understand what?"

"Why Gwen would want to leave here for that contraption. How prosperous can this telephone business be especially now with a war on?"

Watching him leave her office, Mrs. Hughes smiled as she thought Mr. Carson was certainly set in his ways. While she found the butler had many great qualities, acceptance of new things was certainly not one of them nor, suddenly thinking of the garden party, would he countenance any what he would deem as improprieties between the staff and the family.

Still clinging to the idea that the chauffeur and the youngest daughter of the house had only been caught up in the excitement of the moment Mrs. Hughes looked down at her desk. Was she just being foolish? It wasn't the first time she had thought of Branson and Lady Sybil, well maybe more that Branson seemingly enchanted by the young lady, there had been those times when she wondered … she shook her head.

If pressed she might acknowledge having a soft spot for the young Irishman who was a bit of an outsider in the servants hall. He certainly wasn't underhanded or devious like Thomas or guileless like William.

She would make no mention of what she had seen for she knew that would only result in the chauffeur's immediate dismissal and that was something the young lad knew well too. She had given him a warning, what he'd do with that was up to him.


With both garage doors opened wide, the breezes filled the garage with the sweet scent of honeysuckle that grew wild along one wall of the garage. Having just finished cleaning the Renault's spark plugs, Tom, dressed in his tan overalls, stood in the garage leaning over the workbench with his hands pressed against it top, his thoughts not on this fine day or the war or even the work he had just finished.

Be careful my lad. You'll end up with no job and a broken heart.

The month Sybil had been in London for her season had seemed like an eternity to him for it was then he came to realize how much he enjoyed her company. He had tried telling himself he was only missing their discussions of politics and books but he knew in his heart it was more than that. With her absence, he realized how much he looked forward to just seeing her even if it was only while she sat in the back seat of the motor car with one of her sisters or her mother and any thought of chatter beyond "good morning" was forbidden.

His heart had fluttered at seeing her that morning he met the family at the railway station upon their return from London.

He had taken such care in his dress that morning the family returned from London. The brass buttons on his dark green jacket gleamed with polish as did his leather driving gloves and boots, his freshly washed hair was shiny with pomade. As he helped her into the motor car she offered him her dazzling smile and a slight nod of her head as he said "welcome home."

It was several days before he had seen her again. He was in the garage courtyard, polishing the already gleaming Renault when she unexpectedly appeared looking so beautiful even though she was wearing the plainest of outfits, a dark blue skirt and a blue and white checked shirt, her dark hair hidden by a wide sun bonnet. She hadn't come directly from the house but rather stopped on her way back to the house after a long morning walk.

"I know I was only gone for six weeks but somehow it seems like it was ages" she said as gravel crunched under her heels. "After being in the city it feels so good to walk out in the meadows, to see the fields of sheep, to hear the rustle of deer or maybe rabbits darting across the woods."

As most times when he was around her, he couldn't help but smile. "Here I was wondering if the excitement of the season had been too much for you."

She rolled her eyes. "It was nice … it was fun seeing so many old friends but …" she removed her hat and tilted her head back to look up at the sky. "I loved the dancing and catching up with old friends but it was mostly the same people every day and after a while it just became …" she took a deep breath then looked at him "rather boring. Maybe if I had been able to do some of the things I wanted to do like visit the British museum or take a boat ride on the Thames or-."

She looked around as if ensuring no one else was in sight, then leaning towards him, her husky voice almost a whisper said "I had hoped to attend a meeting of suffragettes or at least listen to a speech or two at Speakers Corner in Hyde Park but" she made an exaggerated sigh which caused Tom to stifle a smile. Tapping her hat against her hip, her voice more strident, she said "I was never left alone. I couldn't go for a walk by myself or even find a quiet spot in the park across the street from the house to just sit and read a book. Really Branson it was most annoying."

She went to adjust her hat on her head but stopped. "No one wanted to talk about anything I was interested in. Even my friends only seemed interested in what everyone was wearing and who they danced with and what parties they had been invited to."

"And the men were even worse. I asked a few about what they thought about women's rights and especially the vote and they looked at me as if I was crazy. Her voiced raised in disgust "a couple even told me such matters shouldn't concern me."

She looked at him with such earnest. "How could they think it shouldn't concern ME?"

She began pacing up and down the courtyard clearly agitated. "They see my life as the good little wife arranging dinner parties and producing their heir." She paused and looked directly at him "I think surely I have more to offer than that."

Be careful my lad. You'll end up with no job and a broken heart.

It was by chance he had even been at the garden party for the chauffeur had no role to play there. He had come to the servants hall for a cup of tea and a bite to eat. As he sat at the grand table the maids and footmen scurried out of the kitchen with trays filled with delectable sandwiches and cakes and returning with trays of dirty plates and cups. The jarring ring of the newly installed telephone caused everyone to pause in their work, a few wondering what was the source of the incessant ringing while others looked in horror towards the butler's office where the newly installed contraption, as Mr. Carson called it, sat on his desk.

He had been the only one willing to answer the telephone. He'd been glad he had answered the telephone for the news had been just what Gwen and Lady Sybil hoped for and he had been excited to share the news with them.

He thought of how Mrs. Hughes had looked at them … at him. He hadn't done anything wrong, at least not in his eyes. Be careful my lad. You'll end up with no job and a broken heart.

Loudly sighing, he slowly took off his grease spotted gloves and laid them on the workbench.


Long after the rest of the servants had scurried off to complete their morning chores, Tom remained sitting at the big table in the servants hall drinking a cup of tea, enjoying another warm buttered scone and reading the newspaper. It was a day old newspaper, one left in the servants hall by Carson after his lordship was finished with it, but Tom didn't mind that for it was still news to him. Most days he would take one of the newspapers and head for the garage but today he'd decided to have another one of Mrs. Patmore's delicious scones while it was still warm.

It wasn't totally quiet in the servants hall for Tom could hear the faint clanging of pots and pans mixed with the occasional bark of Mrs. Patmore coming from the kitchen. He decided that was more pleasant than listening to O'brien who had stormed into the servants hall, mumbling incoherently and practically throwing a sewing basket on to the table which promptly fell open spewing much of its contents onto the table with some spilling off the table and onto the hard tiled floor.

Tom looked up from his newspaper which seemed to further irritate the frazzled lady's maid. "Oh so sorry" her voice dripping with sarcasm "did I interrupt your reading?"

O'brien wanted to snatch that newspaper out of his hands and slap that smirk off his face. She thought the chauffeur was too full of himself and always thought she or Thomas would take him down a peg or two.

Instead of replying, for really what was he to say, he picked up two spools of thread that had rolled across the table landing on his newspaper spread out on the table. As he stood to deliver the wayward spools to the other side of table O'brien continued her tirade. "It must be nice … I wish I had the morning to lounge about-"

Her arrival had been loud enough that Mrs. Hughes came into the servants hall. "Whatever is going on in here?" she demanded in that quiet but authoritative way she had.

"What's going on?" O'brien snarled. "With Anna doing most of Gwen's chores … it's not enough that I have to see to her ladyship but now the daughters too." She held up a blouse "and of course after helping her get dressed her majesty Lady Mary decided she just has to wear this blouse instead which is missing a couple of buttons and wants a matching ribbon attached to" she nodded to a hat sitting on the table "this bonnet."

"Well until we can hire a replacement for Gwen we'll all just have to pitch in" Mrs. Hughes replied.

"We all?" O'brien sneered as she looked at Tom. "Doesn't look much like he's pitching in."

"Might I remind you that Branson is not part of the household staff."

"Oh!" O'brien's eyes flickered between Mrs. Hughes and Tom. "Then why does he lounge around in here and why does he eat all his meals here?"

The normally calm housekeeper was becoming annoyed. "What Branson does or doesn't do is none of your concern."

The sudden jarring ring of one of the servants call bells caused all three of them to look at the bell board. Noting the bell was for Lady Mary's bedroom, Mrs. Hughes facing O'brien said "Provided you carry on with your work I will see what Lady Mary wants and" she turned her attention to Tom as Carson entered the room.

"Branson" Carson's booming voice cut off any further comment from Mrs. Hughes. "His lordship will be ready to leave in five minutes."

"And that is my bell" a smiling Branson said as he stood and gathered up his newspaper.

A furrowed browed Carson looked at him and then at Mrs. Hughes who, suppressing a chuckle, said "I'd better see what Lady Mary wants."