November 1920

Stepping into the lobby of the Shelbourne Hotel was like stepping into another world. From the sparkling marble floor to the gilt decorated ceiling the room spoke of an elegance and opulence that was out of the reach of ordinary Dubliners, indeed the ordinary Dubliner was discouraged if not outright banned from setting foot in the place unless wearing a bellboy or maid's uniform. Light shimmered from the oversized crystal chandeliers, the air was lightly scented from the huge flower arrangement positioned on the huge antique table under an oversized gilt frame arched mirror, and through arched doorways framed by gilt capped columns deep luxurious sofas and chairs beckoned one to come and sit whether engaging in intimate conversations or enjoying the view through the tall windows of St. Stephens Green.

Once she would have been at home in a place like this but Sybil was no longer that girl who had grown up enveloped in a world of marble, hand-cut crystal, silks and satins. She felt like an interloper standing in this grand entranceway, her hand rubbing the softness of her new deep crimson woolen coat. It wouldn't do appearing here in the second hand coat she had worn last winter so she had spent money, money gleaned earlier from selling one of her fine necklaces, on a new coat and matching cloche hat. Just like that she had been transformed from Mrs. Tom Branson into Lady Sybil, daughter of the Earl of Grantham.

She had smiled at the bellman telling him she was meeting someone and walked towards one of the arched doorways leading into the lounge. Afraid that if she took a seat in one of the plush sofas or chairs her quarry wouldn't see her she decided to stand just inside the archway ready to step back into the lobby as soon as her quarry entered the hotel. Luckily she had barely turned around to face the lobby when the glass and wooden hotel door opened and, accompanied by a stout and dour looking older woman, the former Lady Victoria Bellasis walked into the grand lobby of the Shelbourne Hotel.

Waiting until Victoria was only feet away from her, Sybil stepped out into the foyer.

"Sybil?" Victoria, rather bewildered at seeing her childhood friend, spoke quietly. But as Sybil took another step forward Victoria's face broke out into a beaming smile and she called more loudly "Sybil! Sybil Crawley!"

Hoping to look as surprised as Victoria had been Sybil had barely responded "Torie!" when Victoria bounded across the remaining feet of the grand foyer and enveloped Sybil in a hug. "What a delight to see you!"

The two women continued hugging and laughing as they simultaneously talked. "I knew that you were living in Ireland but I had no idea how to contact you" "Whatever are you doing here?" "You're a sight for sore eyes." "It's so grand to see someone from home."

"Lady Victoria!" the older women who had accompanied Victoria tugged at her arm. "I'm afraid we'll be late."

"Oh Mrs. Bowden this is an old friend of mine from Yorkshire Lady Sybil Crawley" Victoria responded. Then looking at Sybil said rather sheepishly "I'm afraid I don't know your married name."

"Your ladyship" Mrs. Bowden nodded at Sybil taking in the fine cut of Sybil's coat and stylish hat. Of course Lady Victoria's friend would be another Lady she thought with just a bit of resentment. "I think the others are waiting Lady Victoria."

Victoria turned towards Sybil. "Oh Sybil are you busy? I mean do you have time to talk?"

"I'd like nothing better" Sybil responded.

"Lady Victoria I imagine the table is already set for just the six of us" Mrs. Bowden injected. "But I guess I could see if the waiter could squeeze in another."

Victoria looked from Mrs. Bowden to Sybil and then back at Mrs. Bowen. "You go on in. Lady Sybil and I will find a quiet space for the two of us to talk."

"But" Mrs. Bowden looked rather unsure of herself. "Really dear do you think it's safe for the two of you-"

"Mrs. Bowden" Victoria cut in. "I believe Lady Sybil has been living here in Dublin for some time so I'm sure she's quite familiar with the city and you needn't worry. Now please go see the others and give them my regrets."

Waiting until the older woman was almost out of sight, Victoria wrapped her arm around Sybil's and whispered "she's a frightful bore. Reminds me of some of my governesses with her strict timetables and constant harping on etiquette."

"Then let's go someplace where she can't find us" Sybil responded and for the first time Victoria's face clouded over and she looked a bit hesitant. "Torie there's a perfectly nice tea room around the corner and I assure you we'll be quite safe."

Settled into a booth, their orders placed, Torie looked around the room. "Makes me think of the tea rooms l'd see in York and always wanted to try but of course Mama would only consent to places with a doorman and linen tablecloths and fresh cut flowers on the table." She looked at Sybil and smiled. "I thought now living in a city I'd be able to visit such places and go to the theatre and stroll around the parks but my husband thinks Dublin isn't safe for us British. The only places I go to are the dressmaker's, the millinery, and the Shelbourne so I haven't really seen much of Dublin."

Torie took a sip of her tea. "I guess life is quite different for you here … I mean married to an Irishman."

"It hasn't always been easy but I do feel safe with Tom. We live near Trinity College and that area is more accepting of people like me. I've learned what shops to patronize and which to avoid when I'm on my own. What's hurt most is that no hospital would hire me because I'm English." Sybil gave a slight smile and a shrug of her shoulders before taking a sip of her tea. "I live in a whole different world far away from that at the Shelbourne so it was rather strange being there today."

Torie gave one of her beaming smiles as she reached across the table to pat Sybil's hand. "Well I'm certainly glad you ventured there today of all days!"

Conversation was halted as the black clad waitress set two steaming chicken pot pies on the table. Torie took a deep breath as if trying to capture the fragrant aroma. "I don't think I've had chicken pot pie since I left the nursery!" Picking up her fork she continued "it was always one of my favorites."

Torie had taken several bites, proclaiming the pie was delicious, before she spoke again. Her voice was soft and tinged with an unexpected seriousness. "Sybil I'm sorry I wasn't better at keeping in touch but losing first Tom and then Reggie just crushed me."

Sybil patted Torie's hand. "I can't imagine how hard it was losing two brothers. I have so many fond memories of them especially Tom."

"We did have some wonderful times didn't we? Remember those scavenger hunts?"

Sybil laughed. "I especially remember the one where you and I got locked in the attic at your house and it took hours for someone to find us and everyone thought we'd be so scared in that dark and dusty place and instead we had fallen asleep."

"Or the time Reggie was so sure he'd win because we wouldn't touch frogs or worms." Torie laughed. "And then you let the frog loose in the house and my grandmother fainted when it landed on her lap."

"Which I believe banned me from your house for weeks" Sybil laughingly added.

"Remember how upset Tom was when you climbed higher up that old tree than him and then you got too scared to climb down and it took my father and the gardeners hours to figure out how to get you down."

"Which I believe earned me another few weeks of banishment!"

And so it went as they ate their meal, the conversation never waned between the two old friends as they talked of old times, of shared memories and childhood adventures. Eventually the conversation turned to how both had come to be in Ireland. However, Sybil omitted Tom's current situation for that would wait until Sybil felt it was just the right moment but surprisingly it was Torie who first broached the subject.

Torie would have said that Sybil looked as elegant and stylish as ever at the Shelbourne in her crimson wool coat and matching cloche hat. She thought it might have been a bit surprising that Sybil's hair fell in soft chin-length waves but then again Sybil always had been willing to be at the forefront of fashion. But as they sat down at a table in the tea room, Torie had been quite surprised by the outdated dress Sybil wore. Although the dress had been shortened it was obviously from a time before the war and hung on her as if she had borrowed it from someone a bit larger.

"Sybil this has been wonderful seeing you and catching up but I get the feeling that there is something you're not telling me."

Sybil looked around the small tea room noticing it was now empty except for an older woman with a young boy and her and Torie. "I do want to talk to you about something but it would be best to find somewhere a bit more private maybe a bench somewhere in the park if it's not too cold or my flat isn't too far and you could meet my daughter."

Tom pulled the blanket tighter around him as he sat down on the bed. The bare mattress was a dingy gray too thin and lumpy to give much comfort but it was better than sitting on the hard cold stone floor. Other than twelve narrow metal framed beds that were lined up in two rows of six beds opposite each other with an aisle maybe three or four separating the two rows of beds the room was barren. Even though there was space enough at the end of the room for four more beds, two on each side, the area was kept empty except for the metal bucket that was used for the men to relieve themselves. Since the bucket was only emptied once a day there was a constant unpleasant odor although the odor also came from the men confined here for they were allowed to bathe, if one could call standing under a running hose of cold water without soap once every three or four days a bath.

The room was dim for the only windows were long slits high up on the wall almost to the ceiling which didn't allow anyone to see out. Nor did they allow sunlight to penetrate into the room and therefore it was almost always a dusky sort of light in the room even during the time Tom surmised was day. With the weather in Dublin at this time of year, often days of rain, it was sometimes hard to determine day from night. There were of course no lamps or even candles to lighten the room.

He wasn't sure how long he had been confined to this barren room nor for that matter did he know how long he had been at this place. At times he could recall he had been in another room, something more like a hospital ward, but his memory was rather vague on that. In fact his memory was rather vague on this whole situation and how he had come to be here. Wherever and whatever here was.

"I don't think my husband could do much even if he was willing to help" Torie said immediately crushing Sybil's hopes. The look of utter defeat on Sybil's face tore into Torie's heart and she reached out and took hold of Sybil's hands. "But I think there is someone who most certainly can help."

Torie reached for the crystal decanter and poured herself a glass of whiskey. Still standing at the sideboard she downed the smoky liquid in one gulp. Setting the glass back on the sideboard she laughed as her mother's voice rang in her head. Really Victoria a lady doesn't drink such things. Her hand was on the decanter ready to pour another glass when she heard the front door open. Oh Mama there are so many things a lady doesn't do.

Major James Sutter cut an impressive figure with his thick mane of dark curly hair and lean muscular frame. Just shy of six feet he always stood ramrod straight making him seem just a bit taller. His eyes were as dark as his hair and usually held no warmth although he could be quite charming when he wanted and just as often he could be quite cruel.

Torie had just sat down on one of the stiff Victorian sofas when her husband entered the sitting room.

Ignoring his wife, James walked directly to the sideboard and poured himself a whiskey. Unlike Torie who had devoured her drink in one gulp, James took a sip and then let the smoky peatness linger in his mouth before swallowing. Holding the glass in his hand he finally turned to face his wife. "And how was your day today?"

Here it comes thought Victoria (for with her husband it was always Victoria and never ever Torie). He'll have already heard from Major Bowden about Sybil so there's no point in being evasive.

"Actually it was wonderful" she gushed in reply. "Extraordinary actually. I met an old friend at the Shelbourne and it was just wonderful to talk to her."

"Someone you abandoned your lunch friends for?"

"Oh really James. I have lunch almost every week with those women and they more your colleagues' wives than my friends. I've known Sybil all my life, our families were quite close, and I haven't seen her in ages."

"Oh yes I believe it was a Lady Sybil."

She nodded. "Lady Sybil Crawley" and then knowing he'd be impressed she added "her father's the Earl of Grantham."

"So what is this Lady Sybil doing in Dublin?"

"She lives here."

"And you're just now meeting her?"

Victoria shook her head. "I don't know what you're getting at. Why should I have met her before now? She's not involved with the British military so we hardly run in the same social circle."

"Well it is quite extraordinary that this Lady Sybil just happened to be at the Shelbourne on a day you're there for lunch."

Victoria, although in light of what Sybil had asked her to do had also thought the same thing but she'd never give such satisfaction to her husband, in a look she had perfected knitted her brows in confusion, "Whatever do you mean?"

"I just meant how fortuitous she was there at the same time as one of your rare outings there."

Ignoring any implications of that statement, Victoria instead gave a beaming smile and enthusiastically said. "It was wasn't it!"

"So what is Lady Sybil doing in Dublin besides hanging out in the lobby of the Shelbourne?"

"She was hardly hanging out at the Shelbourne. I believe she was checking out the possibility of accommodations for her grandmother during the Christmas season." Victoria stifled a giggle thinking how easy it had become for her to lie.

"Isn't that a bit unusual for her grandmother to come here rather than Lady Sybil going home for Christmas?"

Victoria took a deep breath. "Her grandmother is American" Then knowing how her husband was impressed with wealth, after all that was why he had married her, she added "A very rich American."

She stood up and walked to the sideboard and poured herself a small glass of sherry, not that she wanted the drink but it gave her something to do. "Really James I don't know why you're harping on this. It will be nice for me to have a true friend here."

"Don't you consider the women you were supposed to lunch with friends?"

"It's different with Sybil. I've known her all my life."

"And she's not some military wife but someone from your social circle."

A yes thought Victoria that's the real rub isn't it. You're not from my social circle either and never will be.

Victoria glared at her husband but before she could respond Kate, dressed in her maid's uniform, appeared at doorway. "Excuse me mylady dinner is ready."

Kate stepped aside as the Major and Lady brushed past her and crossed the hallway to the dining room. She was dying to know about the meeting between Sybil and Lady Victoria and had stood quietly outside the sitting room to overhear a bit of the conversation between the Major and his wife. From what she had heard she wasn't sure what had happened between the two women and for that she'd have to ask Sybil. When she had met with Sybil to set up the "chance" meeting with Victoria Kate had asked Sybil not to reveal their relationship for doing so might endanger Kate.

For Victoria dinner had almost been torture with her husband's constant questioning and she was glad when he retired to his office and she could flee to her small sitting room. It was a small spare room at the back of the house that might once had been an anteroom but unlike the rest of the house which had been decorated by some long ago officer's wife in the dark, formal, heavy, ornateness of the Victorian age she had been able to soften it a bit. Gone were the deep red velvet drapes with their fringe tassels that blocked any view of the garden outside and the dark gold and red wallpaper had been scrapped off three of the walls and replaced with light yellow paint. She had purchased a comfortable lounge chair in a soft creamy yellow pattern and had positioned it near the window where she'd often sit on those rare glorious sunny days and admire the back garden. The garden of course wasn't nearly as grand as back home but in the spring and summer there was a lovely mix of colorful blooms and in the fall the two large trees were drenched in reds and golds.

The side table that took up almost all of one wall was covered with an array of framed photographs from Victoria's past and tonight she was drawn to one particular photograph. She lifted the photograph and smiling ran her finger across it. It had been taken on one of those delightful summer days in her carefree youth. Standing next to her brother Reggie she held a croquet mallet in her hands and was carefully studying the path to the wicket while in the background her brother Tom stood grinning and just beyond him was Sybil waving her hands.

A tear fell down her cheek as she studied the photograph. Then they were young and healthy and wealthy and looked so happy with their carefree summers and supposed glittering futures. But that had been before the war had changed everything. Her brothers were now buried in the family plot of her family's ancient estate. In her grief she had been consoled by the dashing James who had served with Reggie and purported to have been his closest friend and had held his hand on the battlefield as he died. Sybil had found love with the family chauffeur and had given up everything to be with him.

She had been fooled by James but no longer. She once might have been the empty airhead he thought she was but not now although she still often played that role. Now she had an inkling of what he really was and what he was doing here in Ireland and she didn't like it at all. It had embarrassed her to tell Sybil that James wouldn't be able to help her although that wasn't really true. He would help for a price, a price much greater and steeper than she was willing for Sybil to pay.

Tomorrow she'd take Sybil to someone else, someone more honorable. James always railed against the "old-boy" network and tomorrow she'd see if that "old-boy" network really worked.