Chapter 4

A week had passed since Sybil had been informed of her parents' plan for her to marry up to save the estate. A week since her romantic rendezvous with Tom in the garage. A week since she'd pleaded with Mary to hide her secret. And a week since she'd agreed - against her better judgment - to save Downton by marrying a man she couldn't stand.

Robert and Cora had been relieved - and surprised - when Sybil had given in. Cora had immediately addressed dinner invitations to the Greys, instantly throwing the servants into a fever of preparation for a dinner designed to both impress the wealthy Greys and to disguise the fact that Downton was growing bankrupt.

Cora, after a thorough examination of Sybil's wardrobe, had ruled that she needed a new dinner gown. The last time Sybil had gotten a new dress had been before the war when she had thought that being fitted for a new dress was the most enchanting thing in the world. Now she wasn't so foolishly naive and knew better.

"But Mama, how can we possibly afford a new dress if Papa is going to be broke soon?" Sybil questioned in the car on the way to Ripon, finding the whole idea flawed.

"We'll find a way," Cora said grimly, looking out the window to avoid looking at her youngest daughter. She didn't want her to notice the worry on her face.

Sybil risked a glance up at the car's rearview mirror. She noticed Tom's downcast expression and gave him a small smile of reassurance. She didn't know what she was reassuring him of, exactly — she knew she had to marry Larry no matter what, or Mary would tell Robert about her relationship with Tom. But her smile seemed to cause him to perk up a little, and he looked up and flashed a hint of a smile back at her.

—

"I can't do this," Sybil moaned to herself as Anna styled her hair into a complicated bun.

Anna looked up from her work. "I believe in you, my lady," she told Sybil.

"I'm so sorry, Anna! I didn't mean to say that out loud!" Sybil confessed, embarrassed. "How is Mr. Bates doing?" she asked, trying to change the subject. The Crawley's former valet and Anna's husband had been unfairly convicted of the murder of his ex-wife and sent to prison for life.

"He's…doing as well as he could be, under the circumstances," Anna responded.

"That's good," Sybil said. "Just let me know if I can do anything to help you," she offered. Anna had always been more of a friend than a servant to her and she wanted to do anything she could to help her through this difficult time.

"You're too kind, milady! I'll miss you when you get married," Anna replied, touched by Sybil's offer. She smiled at her boss and placed the final pin into her hair.

Mary, Edith, and Cora entered, clad in their elaborately beautiful evening gowns. "Show us your dress, darling," Cora ordered softly.

Sybil stood up and turned around, displaying the ankle-length sleeveless lavender gown with the black floral designs that she had selected. "You look absolutely beautiful, Sybil!", Edith praised. "That dress is so modern and pretty, just like you."

"Unlike that waste of fabric," Mary muttered under her breath, casting a disdainful glance at Edith's more traditional floor-length ivory-colored dress.

"Darling, I just wanted to prepare you for how we're going to approach the Greys," Cora informed Sybil, and it took all Sybil could muster to suppress a groan.

"Yes?" she asked politely instead.

"We know Larry is attracted to you - "

" - I wish he wasn't!" Sybil put in.

Cora continued as if there had been no interruption from her daughter. " - so we will have you sit next to him at dinner and then spend some quality time alone with him before dinner. Flirt a little, chat with him — keep him intrigued and smitten. And then your father will speak with him after dinner, where he will hopefully ask for your hand. And if he does, your father will broker a deal with him that benefits both sides."

"So I am like the cattle to be bartered and traded," Sybil scoffed indignantly, internally seething with anger.

Cora sighed. "Darling, please -"

Edith grasped her mother's arm and gently steered her out of Sybil's room. "Come, Mama. They'll be expecting us soon."

Mary lingered in Sybil's room for a few moments longer. "Oh Sybil, good luck!" she cried, clasping Sybil's cold, nervous hands in her own.

"Thanks, Mary," Sybil said. "I just sometimes wonder if you want this to go well for your own sake that way you and Matthew can have the life you've always dreamed of while I'm trapped in a loveless marriage to a brute." Part of her regretted so readily accepted Mary's offer to keep her romance with Tom hidden as long as she went through with the plan.

Mary raised her brows, visibly taken aback. "I mean…you're correct," she admitted. "I just feel guiltier about the whole affair now that I know about you and Branson. Not because of you being in love with Branson - since he is the chauffeur - but because of the fact that you're in love with someone. By the way, have you seen him lately?"

"Just when he drove Mama and me to Ripon. Why?" Mary had never taken an interest in Sybil's "improper" relationship with the chauffeur, and Sybil was suspicious that she would suddenly ask about it now.

"No reason," Mary said dismissively. "I just wanted to make sure that you have some happiness in the weeks to come. If Larry does propose, then your days with Branson are numbered. I'd take advantage of them," she finished mysteriously, and sauntered out of the bedroom, leaving Sybil even more confused than ever. Why couldn't Mary ever just say what she meant?

—

Sybil entered the drawing room tentatively, hesitating when she saw the Greys were already there. Robert was the first to notice her and instantly grasped her arm to guide her across the room.

"Ah, Sybil. You remember Lord Merton and his sons?" he asked, knowing full well that she did. Since Lord Merton was Mary's godfather, the Greys had been present at many family gatherings in the years before the Great War, from holiday parties to funerals. Sybil's memories of Larry were not exactly pleasant, though — there was that seaside holiday when he'd played a prank where he had snuck behind her and stripped her, ultimately tossing her into the frigid waters of the English Channel. Although it was nearly ten years ago, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment when she recalled how vulnerable she had felt when the teenaged Larry had ogled her then newly developing figure. Her mother had been furious at Larry, demanding that he make it up to Sybil. And he had. He'd showed up at her hotel room with a bouquet of exquisite purple hyacinths later. Little had the masculine Larry known that purple hyacinths were said to be the harbingers of sorrow and sadness. Now, Sybil marveled at the irony of that seemingly insignificant flower choice — he was bringing sorrow into her life now, however unknowingly.

Larry, his father, and his brother Tim all turned to glance over at her. Sybil glanced back, curious to observe the changes that had occurred since she'd seen them last. With his dark brown hair and clear blue eyes, Larry was rakishly good-looking, a fact he knew all too well. He was tall and lanky, unlike Tom, who was broader and more muscular. Tom. Sybil had to stop thinking of him and instead accomplish what her family expected her to do. But she could not help the thoughts of him that sprang unbidden into her head with every moment that passed. So this was what being in love felt like — constant, unconscious musings about her lover. Ever since she first began reading romance novels, she had always wondered what it would be like.

"How are you, Lady Sybil?" Lord Merton inquired courteously, effectively interrupting Sybil's dreamy-eyed reverie. Lord Merton was a tall, sprightly gray-haired nobleman with a kind face that neither of his sons shared. He would be a good father-in-law to me, if worst comes to worst, Sybil thought. "I am well, Lord Merton. And you?" she responded politely.

"Lady Sybil. How lovely to see you again," Larry greeted her. Sybil noticed that he was looking her up and down in the same manner he had at the seashore that day, which unsettled her. One thing she loved about Tom was that he didn't care a bit about her title or money and her looks were secondary to her mind in his eyes. From what she knew of Larry, he was not like that. Sybil opened her mouth to say something about that, but remembered her duty and stopped herself.

"It is absolutely wonderful to see you again too." Sybil lowered her eyes in what her mother had told her was a demurely flirtatious way that befit how the daughter of an earl was supposed to act. Larry seemed to be receptive to her flirtations, and the pair continued to engage in polite small talk. Larry talked about his estate and hunting and Sybil listened, occasionally acting impressed or nodding.

"Shall we go through?" Cora finally asked, and Sybil had never been so thankful before in her life to hear her mother say that.

—

Dinner was as usual, what with the men doing most of the talking and Violet occasionally making a witty comment about something they said. Sybil was seated next to Larry, whom she caught gazing at her several times throughout the meal.

At one point, Robert mentioned how the Irish republican mayor of Cork had recently been brutally shot dead in front of his wife. "I heard our prime minister ordered it," he commented.

"Then I think the prime minister should be charged with murder," Matthew put in. "It's only just."

Larry glanced disdainfully at Matthew. "No, the Irish have it coming. They're all hotheaded drunkards who'd rather protest about nothing rather than actually run a government."

Sybil flushed angrily at this, appalled at Larry's biased stereotyping of an entire country. How dare he — he probably didn't even know any Irishmen, yet he had crafted an unfair mental first impression of them anyway. Tom was the most passionate, hardworking man she knew, and yet Larry had assumed a man like him would care more for the bottle than the writings of Mill.

"No -" she started to retort, but then she noticed the pointed look that Mary threw her from across the table, a look that told her to be quiet and sip her wine instead. How could she waste the remainder of her youth like this, always stopping short of saying what she actually wanted to say? Oh, but Sybil knew she must — she, too, had read Tom's books on utilitarianism, the philosophy of the greater good. She would choose the happiness of the many people that depended on Downton over her own happiness.

Isobel seemed to read part of what was on Sybil's mind and bravely disagreed with Larry. "Cousin Robert and Cousin Cora's chauffeur, Branson, is from Ireland. He is incredibly intelligent and diligent. Many of the people looking to change things there are probably like him, and I think we need to remember that before we judge them too hastily."

Sybil stifled a snicker, satisfied that Larry was put in his place by the fierce older nurse. Judging by the fuming look on his face, he was not quite so happy about being corrected by the mother of a middle-class solicitor.

—

"Larry, would you mind coming here for a moment? I would like to discuss something with you."

The baron's son made his excuses to a relieved Sybil, who he had been conversing with ever since dinner had ended, and followed Robert into the library. "What did you want to talk about, Lord Grantham?", he asked.

"I understand you have taken quite a fancy to my youngest," Robert began, getting to the point as soon as he could in order to minimize the length of the conversation.

Larry's eyes lit up at the mention of Sybil. "Lady Sybil is everything I could ever want in a wife. She is beautiful, well-bred, and demure. She would be a perfect baroness."

Robert felt that twinge of unsettlement in his stomach that had been nagging him since he'd first informed Sybil of their plan at Larry's depiction of his daughter. True, she was certainly beautiful and well-bred and could be demure when she wanted to be, but there was so much more to her than that. If Larry did not realize that she was an opinionated modern woman, a passionate crusader for women's suffrage….then maybe this wasn't right. Robert shook his hesitation away — he had to think of Downton. Sybil had a duty toward it, the same duty he had when he had been pressured into marrying an American heiress he'd barely known. And she would fulfill that duty, s hundreds of Crawleys before her had.

"Wonderful. You have my blessing to marry her then, if you would like," Robert told Larry, inwardly apologizing to Sybil for the fate he had just resigned her to.

Larry smiled, looking not unlike a child who had just been gifted with the shiny toy he had wanted for Christmas. "Thank you, Lord Grantham! You cannot possibly understand how happy you have made me. I shall propose to her tonight." He turned to leave, probably to go find Sybil, but Robert stopped him.

"Wait, Larry."

Larry halted. "Yes, sir?"

"I suppose I should tell you that financial burden has befallen Downton after the war," Robert admitted, nervous to see what Larry's reaction would be.

Larry looked genuinely surprised and a bit disappointed. "I would still like to marry Sybil nonetheless," he declared.

Robert sighed in relief — maybe Downton would be safe, after all. And Larry certainly seemed dedicated to Sybil. After all, the seaside incident had been years ago, and Larry seemed to have significantly changed since then.

"I have my ample inheritance, a part of which I can bequeath to Downton to pull you and your family out of debt. That would make sure you and your family would live comfortable lives for a very long time. Now it makes sense why you are suddenly so keen on me marrying Sybil. I had always thought you didn't especially care for me, Lord Grantham. But now you are desperate for my help and Sybil is to be my reward for that help," Larry laughed derisively. His demeanor had gone from the relaxed one of a man in love to the alert one of a man who was suspicious that he was being tricked into something.

"You have changed a lot, Larry. I know you would make Sybil happy," Robert tried to reassure Larry. He said that because it was what he needed to convince not only Larry but himself of the Sybil-Larry union.

Larry's harsh posture softened considerably. "That means a lot to me, Lord Grantham. I like to think she will be quite comfortable as my wife. I have been smitten with her since we were children, you know."

Robert nodded and smiled at the man who would soon become his son-in-law, the man who would be the savior who would resurrect Downton from its current depths of ruin. "Go propose to my daughter, Larry." Larry shook his hand and left.

—

"Sybil…"

Sybil jolted awake at the sound of her name. It was very late and she had been waiting alone in the drawing room for quite a time while her father and Larry conversed in the library. For one fleeting moment when she was between waking and dreaming, she had imagined that Tom was the one calling her name. In the dark, the man reaching out to her could have been him.

But it was only Larry.

Sybil cast aside her disappointment and smiled at Larry. "Sorry, I just fell asleep. I usually don't stay up this late," she joked lightly.

Larry chuckled. "Sybil, I wanted to ask you something."

Sybil's heart sank as she realized what he would ask her. She mentally prepared herself for it, willing herself to accept.

"Lady Sybil Crawley, I've loved you since I first met you when we were children so long ago. At first, I dismissed that love as a childhood crush and I expected it to vanish with time. But it never did. It only grew stronger as we grew older and you grew from a gawkish little girl to a beautiful woman. So now, I ask you to make me the happiest man in the world. Will you marry me?"

Larry had gotten onto his knees and clasped her hands in his own. Sybil stiffened at the feeling of his cold hands on her own. She looked at his handsome yet hardened face that was so eagerly awaiting her answer. Her heart was screaming so loudly for her to stand up for what she wanted — Tom — and reject his romantic proposal, but her mind was more practical and told her she had to say yes.

But in her position, a matter of duty would always triumph over a matter of the heart.

"Yes, Larry," she answered, trying her best to appear enthusiastic, like a girl in love.

But when Larry kissed her full on the lips, even she couldn't help but pretend that Tom was her new fiancé kissing her.

A/N: I nearly abandoned this story, but finally got the inspiration for it! I finished the last season of Downton as well as the movie about a month ago. I will probably update Downton University soon too! I hope everyone is keeping healthy! :) Feel free to let me know what you thought of this story...I apologize for the lack of Tom in this chapter, but I felt like it had to be Sybil-centric due to the plot of it.

-cxe128