Lingering souls

This is a companion piece to Zip Goes a Million's 'Loitering Souls'. Go check it out if you haven't already! I have altered the concept a little bit and this is set in 1913 rather than in the modern day. Hope you like it! :)

Everybody has a soulmate. And everybody has a soul-mark - a mark on the skin that appears when a person speaks to their soulmate for the first time.

By the 1900s there has been much debate about the soul-mark. Some people believe the shape is the town or city in which the soulmate was born. Others think you find your soulmate when you find who has the matching shape. For families like the Crawley's however, it is all about hoping that the soul-mark will appear during the season. The talk of 1912 had been the number of girls wearing high collars, or rather too much lace across the collarbones, as that is where the marks appear.

Neither Mary nor Edith had found their soulmate at the time of their presentations, or indeed during subsequent seasons. Mary's soul-mark had appeared when she first spoke to their cousin Matthew, much to her annoyance and everyone else's delight. And Edith hadn't got one yet at all. All hopes for a presentation soul-mark were now fixed firmly on Sybil.

However, Sybil was sceptical about the whole idea. Why should the rest of your life be determined by a mark on your skin? What if you were somebody's soulmate, but they weren't yours? Isn't it unfair that men wear suits and therefore keep their collarbones covered, while women have to parade their soul-marks about? What if you were a woman and your soulmate was another woman?

Her parents, her grandparents and various governesses had all tried to hush these ridiculous doubts over the years and told her over and over that she would meet 'the one' during her season.

But fate had other plans…

~x~

"Golly, my corset's tight. Anna, when you've done that, would you be an angel and loosen it a bit?"

Anna nodded as she adjusted Edith's necklace.

"The start of the slippery slope."

"I'm not putting on weight," Sybil glanced at herself in the mirror and brushed at a speck on her shoulder.

Edith scoffed, "It didn't shrink in the drawer!"

Sybil wasn't paying attention. How on earth had she managed to get ink on her collarbone? She jumped slightly as Mary walked in.

"Are you coming down?"

"I don't know why we bother with corsets. Men don't wear them and they look perfectly normal in their clothes." She tried to adjust the line of the bodice as Anna began unlacing the back.

"Not all of them!" Mary rather wondered at the conversation before she had arrived if this was where they were at now.

"She's just showing off. She'll be on about the vote in a minute."

"If you mean, do I think women should have the vote, of course I do." Sybil forgot her other dilemma and defended her opinion.

"I hope you won't chain yourself to the railings and end up being force fed semolina."

"What do you think, Anna?"

"I think those women are very brave."

"Hear, hear!"

Mary rolled her eyes and stood up. "I'll see you downstairs."

Edith pulled her glove up her arm. "You know they've been destroying tapestries and paintings in London?"

"Because men value such material things above women."

Edith looked at her in shock. "Where's all this interest suddenly come from. You've never been so vocal about the vote before."

"I got some pamphlets in Ripon." It was close enough to the truth.

"Well, don't start reciting them while granny is here. And don't take too long! I don't want to have to tell papa that Anna is adjusting your underwear." Edith swept out of the room and Sybil turned back to her reflection. It was Anna who finally broke the silence.

"I see congratulations are in order, m'lady. You've got your soul-mark."

"Soul-mark?!" Her hand flew back to her collarbone, her eyes like saucers in the mirror. "I thought it was ink!" She tried to glanced down at the tiny patch on her skin.

"Ink, m'lady?"

"I don't think I've spoken to anyone new over the last few days," Sybil muttered, half to herself.

"It definitely wasn't there this morning."

"Anna, I think I need a shawl tonight."

~X~

Sybil sat pensively through dinner and let Edith jest about her weight without rebuke. Her thoughts were elsewhere. She must have said hello to someone in Ripon, but she just couldn't recall talking to anyone other than Mrs Swann and Branson… Oh. But that would be impossible! She couldn't be destined to be with the chauffeur. They had always told her she would meet her soulmate in London!

'Why should soulmates be class bound?' a small, rebellious voice in her mind questioned.

The chauffeur. He was good looking. And interesting, political and ambitious. She smiled. She'd been surprised when he spoke to her at first, but on the journey back they had chatted like old friends. Her face fell again. How on earth would her parents react? How could she tell them? She walked mechanically through to the Drawing Room.

"How did you get on with your dressmaker? Find anything?" Her father's question gave her an idea.

"I did. And she says she can have it done by Friday."

~X~

Tom was surprised when he heard a distinctively feminine step outside the garage.

"Milady! Is everything alright? Do you need the car?"

"No," she waved a hand to reassure him there wasn't a crisis in the house, "I… I came to talk to you."

"Me?"

"This is going to sound ridiculous, but do you believe in soulmates?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's hard to deny with the…" he gestured to his collarbone, "but I've always been pretty sceptical about the idea."

"Me too," Sybil exhaled and slumped down on the workbench, "only…"

"Only what?"

"Nothing. You haven't got your mark then?"

"Not when I last checked." He couldn't read the emotions that flickered across her face.

"I should get back. Goodnight Branson."

Tom stared after her as she walked back to the house, not really sure what to make of this encounter. He shrugged it off and continued working on the carburettor. In another half an hour he was putting his tools away and shutting the garage door. Back in his cottage he couldn't help wondering why the youngest daughter of the house had sought him out. The look on her face when he said he hadn't got his soul-mark was haunting him. He hung his jacket up, unbuttoned his shirt and placed that on a hanger as well. He was about to reach for the cotton shirt he wore to sleep in, when he hesitated and instead strode out of the tiny bedroom to the mirror by the door. It was true what he had said – he hadn't got his soul-mark when he had last consciously thought about it, but it didn't cross his mind very often. Now, looking at his reflection in the glass, he saw the fleck for the first time.

~X~

Sybil had a restless night and in the morning had her horse saddled so that she could ride and hopefully clear her head. She rode hard, enjoying the wind in her face, and then gradually eased back to a trot as they neared the lake. She dismounted and sat down by one of the trees staring out at the water. She'd never believed in soulmates before, so why was she so upset that Branson hadn't got his mark.

'You're being silly, Sybil,' she told herself, 'just… just put it out of your mind!'

It wasn't going to be easy. He was in the yard washing the car as she rode past to the stables and the butterflies in her stomach started fluttering again. She dismounted, gave the horse a pat and handed him over to the stable boy. She was pulling off her gloves and nearly collided with Branson at the stable door.

"I saw you come back." Was it her imagination or did he look nervous? "Can you spare a minute?" She nodded and he led her back to the garage. She blinked, adjusting her eyes now she was out of the direct sun. "Yesterday you asked me if I had my soul-mark."

"And you said you didn't." She didn't intend for her voice to be quite so curt and sulky.

"Well, I was wrong."

"You were?! I mean congratulations." She demurely lowered her gaze. This wasn't how you were meant to talk to the chauffeur. Somehow he didn't seem surprised by her outburst.

"Milady, forgive me for being forward, but why did you want to know?"

She blushed deeply. "I got my soul-mark yesterday. I couldn't think who else I'd spoken to." Her words were ever so quiet, but he understood. Somehow everything just made sense.

"Can I kiss you?"

Her eyes first looked up in surprise, then flicked to his lips and then looked up with an undeniable longing. "Yes." He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Mmm," she moaned as he pulled back and smiled at her.

"I'm Tom," he held out his hand for her to shake.

Still in a daze of delight from the kiss, she automatically took his hand. "Sybil."

"Lady Sybil?" Anna's call from outside burst the bubble and the two immediately put a respectable distance between themselves. "Ah, m'lady, there you are. Her ladyship wondered if you were coming in for luncheon?"

"Yes Anna, I'm just coming. Thank you Branson."

~X~

It was late when she stole out again, but there was a faint orange glow in the chauffeur's cottage. She tapped lightly on the door, hoping that no-one had seen her leave the house. She dipped in the door the second he opened it. Soon she was settled in the old, worn armchair and he was perched on a wooden dining chair.

"I haven't told my family yet." She paused for a second. "Tom, you have to understand that they are all expecting me to meet my soulmate when I get presented next year."

He nodded sadly. "I'm too far beneath you."

"No!" He looked up at her passionate declaration. "We are meant for one another. I may not have always believed that," she conceded, "but now that I've met you everything has changed, and I will fight for you."

"Will they cast you off?"

"They won't be happy about it at first, but they have always believed deeply in the idea of soulmates so I don't think they will deny us. Tom?"

"What is it?"

"Can I see your soul-mark?" It was an odd request. Soul-marks weren't exactly private. Realistically it just depended on what sort of clothes you were wearing whether the mark was visible or not. On the face of it there was nothing illicit in seeing somebody else's soul-mark. On the other hand she was asking a man – a servant – to undress for her. No, she mustn't think of it like that or she'll lose her nerve completely!

Branson, however, didn't help matters. He smirked at her while he undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt and then had the audacity to kneel by her feet to let her see his new soul-mark. It was far more intimate than Sybil had anticipated and she found herself yearning to touch the skin he revealed.

"Go on," he encouraged when her hand faltered in mid-air. Her fingers were cold on his skin and he fought not to shudder.

"Anna has seen mine. She had to tell me what it was! I was under the illusion that I'd got ink down my front! But nobody else." Branson brushed her long hair away from her shoulder and lightly placed his own fingers over the mark on her collarbone. "I'm going to show them tomorrow. My new dress should have arrived and I want to mark the occasion. Will you be there?"

"How can I be?"

"Come to the Drawing Room window at seven." She spayed her hands over his shoulder and looked into his eyes, "please?" Even as she said it the pair were leaning in for another kiss.

~X~

"Good evening everyone," she posed, a hand on her hip, to show off the trousers. Her family reacted exactly as she'd imagined. She twirled on her foot and tugged at the material to better highlight the legs. Matthew was smirking. Mary was shaking her head as if to say 'really Sybil!' Mama was secretly grinning. Isobel was openly grinning. Papa looked concerned and granny…

"Sybil!" Violet cried suddenly.

'Here we go,' she thought.

"What's that on your shoulder?" the old lady beckoned her to come closer.

"Shoulder? Mama, it's the legs I'm worried about," Robert postured.

"Goodness Sybil! When?" Cora asked.

"Last Friday, when I went to Ripon," her words faltered slightly as she noticed Tom in the window.

"And do you know who?"

She met his eyes for a second through the glass. This is where the fun really began. "Yes."

Thank you for reading! I know this comes across as a little bit crack-ish but honestly it was so much fun to write! Thank you again to Zip Goes a Million for letting me use your story. :)