Sarah O'Brien felt herself die a little each time she helped Edith get dressed in the morning. It was a sign of one more day when she'd failed to do anything to avenge her proper mistress, whose own daughter had treated her so shamefully.
But as much as she blamed herself, an equal ire was reserved for Thomas. She was reasonably certain she'd worked out the reason for his sudden turn against her; his bedroom predilections being turned against him were the only thing she could figure to make any sense after how long they'd known each other and shared such confidence. But still, she was disgusted by how complete his capitulation was, when the man she'd known before would surely have found a way to fight back.
But then, what did that say about her, who was still going about fulfilling her new mistress' every whim? She'd considered just vanishing in the night a few times, but was always stopped by the idea that the true Countess might still need her help somehow, and she had to be in a position to give it when the time came.
At least Edith's suspicions of her seemed to have died down since Thomas turned on her, which meant she wasn't constantly on her toes around someone who could make her life very difficult with a finger snap. They could even have something approaching civilized conversation now, though they'd clearly never reach the same rapport O'Brien had with Cora.
"Quite a bit of excitement lately, I gather," she said as she buttoned up Edith's dress.
Edith let out a sigh. "It's a foolish thing, really. But Patrick has become a bit obsessed with protecting his money now that this Queen Mab is supposedly on her way here."
"You don't think she is?"
Edith smirked. "Let's say I have my own reasons for not taking newspaper headlines at face value." O'Brien frowned, knowing exactly what she was talking about, but luckily her position behind Edith kept her from seeing it. "But just try telling my husband that. He's been out of his mind trying to clear as much of our savings out of the banks as he can."
O'Brien honestly found herself a bit intrigued now. "And then what, stuff it all in your mattress?"
Edith barked a short laugh. "It may well have crossed his mind. But for now he's putting it in Downton Place. Apparently there's a spot he liked to hide things as a boy, that everyone else has long forgotten about."
O'Brien couldn't help chuckling a bit herself. "Hopefully he'll have gotten over it by Lady Rose's visit. It wouldn't do for her parents to hear about the earl acting like this."
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"So because of some Irish terrorist who's probably never even coming, we'll all have to deal with the earl being a bit…eccentric for a while," O'Brien concluded over the staff supper.
Thomas didn't say a word. This wasn't the right time, in front of everyone. He knew he'd been handed a big key to whatever the Count and his wife were up to, and he would have to be very careful how he went about using it. O'Brien was probably already a burned bridge, but he was sure he would be able to find another person on the staff who would want to strike back against their master. But who?
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Mary had spent the past several days feeling like she'd contributed nothing. She'd planted the seed that would hopefully lead to Patrick and Edith making their money more accessible, but all this waiting and being able to do little but hope it came up in conversation to find out if it happened made her feel like climbing the walls. Add on her persistent feelings towards Matthew, and the wait was becoming unbearable.
And she made her decision then and there. One of those things she could do nothing about at the moment, but she could for the other one, so it was time she did. As Matthew pored over a book in the library (The Lady of the Camellias; it seemed he was equally enamored with the junior Dumas), she cleared her throat.
He looked up with an expectant look. "Any news?"
She'd expected that reaction; what else had they had to talk about for so long? "Sadly, not yet. This is more of a…personal question." She'd set out so determined, but now she quickly felt herself wilting again and forced herself to stand up straight.
Matthew also got to his feet. "What do you mean?"
She briefly looked away before continuing. There was no use obfuscating any more. "Have you enjoyed these years we've spent together?"
Matthew looked baffled. "They've certainly been invigorating. I've felt more alive than even in my old job. Why do you ask?"
"What I mean is, do you like being around me?"
Now it seemed the penny had dropped. "Are you asking what I think you are?"
She suddenly found herself quite flustered. Why couldn't he make this any easier? "I've just been doing some thinking for a while now, and I believe I would like to continue our relationship once this is all over. And I just want to know if you feel the same way."
Matthew simply stared at her for a few seconds, and she started to feel guilty for how she'd clearly caught him off guard. But then he replied, "I think that perhaps I do."
Now it was Mary's turn to simply sit with the weight of what had just been said. She'd been hoping to hear him say this for so long, and now it didn't quite feel real. "You really think so?"
He laughed a bit. "Well, I hadn't given it much serious thought, but looking back, I do see that I've grown rather…fond of the time we've spent together."
That British gift of understatement was certainly serving them well here, and to avoid a rather undignified squeal Mary quickly took Matthew's face in her hands and kissed him. It was the first time it had happened; they weren't able to do it as part of their cover story due to her veil. And it was everything she'd hoped.
She was pleased to see Matthew also looked quite dazed when she separated again. "I suppose we'll have to let Anna and Mr. Bates know. All of a sudden this old place is just bursting with new love, who'd have thought?" After thinking a second, she said, "Where are they, anyway?"
Matthew visibly made an effort to put his mind back on track. "Oh, yes. They had to run out to head into town and didn't have time to see you. Mr. Bates said he met someone there who might be able to help us, and he wanted her to meet Anna first. Something about impressions, don't ask me what he meant."
Mary grinned, the most genuine one she'd had in a while. "Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough."
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Sarah stuck out her hand again when Bates introduced her to Anna, who seemed even more confused but eventually just completed the handshake. "I must say, I'm curious. John here said you'd been through some bad things, but it wasn't his story to tell. I do hope you won't keep me in suspense any longer."
Anna was even more bemused by the use of Bates' first name after she'd only met him once, and the rest also seemed uncomfortably forward. Granted, she didn't really know anything about what she was asking, so Anna supposed she really couldn't be blamed for the discomfort it caused, but hopefully this wasn't a sign of things to come. "Well, I'll just need one thing from you first. We may be asking your help with a little project of ours, and there's a certain risk that comes with it."
Sarah chuckled. "I've spent most of my life fighting for the working class, and on occasion it's gotten me, let's say a stern talking to. So, I'm not too concerned about that. Now, John did tell me you were doing something to get back at those people keeping us in the gutter?"
Bates cleared his throat uncomfortably. "In a manner of speaking. Do you remember the Mary Crawley scandal?"
Sarah looked quite surprised for a second, but quickly smiled. "Homosexuality is a bit off my radar, but I can certainly empathize with anyone oppressed by the patriarchy. The last I can recall hearing about it was when that maid she was sleeping with escaped from prison. Jolly good luck to her, I say."
Anna couldn't resist so perfect an opening. "Well, thank you very much," she said, even batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.
Sarah actually jumped out of her seat in shock. "It's really you? I mean, I was fully on your side, of course, and oh dear, I didn't say anything to offend you, did I?"
Anna found she wasn't quite vindictive enough to make the woman squirm anymore. "Seeing as I don't actually have those inclinations, I couldn't say."
Sarah visibly relaxed and sat back down. "So was the whole thing made up, then?"
Anna went into her side of the story, and by the end Sarah was fanning her face. "I'm so sorry for all that. But it just goes to prove what I've always said. People in power will do anything to keep it, and they don't care who gets hurt in the meantime. I'll do whatever I can on your behalf."
Bates now cut in again. "Well, there's something else you should know. Mary Crawley is the one we take our orders from." After filling in the blanks about Mary's survival and return, he concluded, "So, if you were to help us, you would be doing it to help someone from the upper class get back into it. I wanted to be upfront about that in case it would become a problem later."
Sarah didn't react at all for a while, and Bates and Anna didn't dare say anything themselves. Finally she replied, "Well, I certainly thank you for telling me. And I'm sure you understand this puts me in a difficult situation given everything I've always stood for. But from everything you say, it seems that Mary has faced quite her own fair share of troubles, and she knows what it's like to be on the other side."
Anna nodded. "When I met her again, it was like seeing a different person."
Sarah looked to the side before she was able to say, "All right, then. If I don't believe people are capable of changing, then what's the point of any of this? So what do you need me to do?"
Bates said, "Well, you'll need to meet Mary and Matthew. They're the real brains behind this. Though I imagine it will be quite useful to have someone in town rather than always going back and forth ourselves."
As they confirmed the arrangement and said their goodbyes, no one noticed the woman across the street who was keeping a close eye on them.
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It had taken some legwork, and no doubt some very confused people after their discussions, but Sybil and Branson had narrowed down the initial source of the story about her to Michael Gregson. After staking out the newspaper office, they had followed him home and knocked on the door. When he answered, he barely had time to register their faces before Branson shoved his way in with Sybil following.
She knew she would need to establish the threat level right away, as several incidents during her time as Queen Mab had made clear to hear just how hard it was to get men to take her seriously. So they'd decided to play it as Branson being her muscle, with Gregson left to wonder just what bad news she was if this strong man was following her orders.
"Don't rough him up too much, darling," she said as she walked in. "We need somewhere to go from here, after all." Branson played his part, simply grunting as he let Gregson go and she shut the door behind her.
"Who are you people?" Gregson said. Sybil had to give him credit; he was clearly terrified, but was still standing and looking them in the face. "I've been doing everything I'm told!"
That was a surprise, which she tried to keep out of her voice as she continued playing the cool, stoic threat. "Now that's quite an interesting thing to say, but I'm not involved with anyone you might be talking about. But you have been talking about me, and I want to know why. So before this has to go any further, you could just tell me: why did you say Queen Mab was coming to England?"
Gregson's eyes widened, and his mouth worked a few times before he could make anything come out. Finally he stammered, "You mean, it's really you? You're her?"
Sybil grinned and spread her arms. "Expecting someone taller? Trust me, I've heard it all before. But to come back to my question: what exactly are you doing printing lies about me?"
It hadn't taken anything more for Gregson to tell the whole story, about how he'd been blackmailed over his insane wife and just recently another man had picked up the same racket. He'd given a quite thorough description, including the cane he carried.
"You've been quite helpful. And in a way, you were right. I'm here now, and I'll be staying for a while. I'll be keeping an eye on your office, in case he shows up again. As for what happens after that, just keep my name out of your paper and you should have nothing else to worry about." She leaned closer. "Smile! You're coming out of this a lot better than you might have."
As it turned out, the wait wasn't long. Sybil and Branson were walking past a café a short time later when she noticed the cane of someone heading in. It seemed to be a match for Gregson's description, and from there she noted the rest of him also fit. She silently pointed him out to Branson, who replied, "What now?"
She gave a rather more genuine smile than the one she's showed Gregson. "Fortune has smiled on us, and now we see where he goes from here. Something very strange is going on, and I intend to get to the bottom of it."
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A/N: Sorry for the wait on this chapter. Up until now I'd been writing the story Vince Gilligan style: I had a clear ending in mind but what happened to get there was just made up as I went. But now that things are really heating up and there's a decent number of subplots going, I figured I'd better take a while to make a more solid plan before I get stuck in a Meereenese Knot. Hopefully things will pick up now that that's done.
