A/N: I feel like I'm taking a gamble with this chapter but any and all reviews are welcome.
Robert Crawley was not an evil man in fact many would even describe him as a kind man. But he was a man of his class and time and that meant he believed in the supremacy of the aristocracy. Men like Robert Crawley are used to the world obeying and respecting their wishes. In his world, men of his social and economic circle expect deference from those outside that circle especially from someone like his lowly Irish son-in-law. But Tom Branson didn't believe in that circle or in its unwritten rules. Tom Branson was not a man who could be bought. If Robert hadn't acknowledged that before he should have realized it from that morning at the Grantham Arms.
A wise man should learn from his mistakes.
After downing a quick drink of whiskey which didn't soothe his nerves as he had hoped, Robert sat at his desk in the ornate library of Downton Abbey. He had always considered this room to be his sanctuary yet at this moment he was not finding it comforting. As if to emphasize his current discomfort his hand robotically tapped a pen against the top of his desk. Although his eyes were focused on the window directly in front of his desk, he did not see the expanse of lawn outside the window nor did he see the deep blue cloudless sky that met the green fields in the distance. He did not see what was in front of him because his mind was replaying the scene that had just occurred here in the library.
If he had confided in his wife or his daughters or his other son-in-law, they would probably have told him his plan would not be warmly received and that he'd have to choose his words carefully. If they had known what had happened at the Grantham Arms almost two years ago, they would most assuredly have warned him he was treading on very dangerous ground.
But a man like Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham, does not seek advice. It was after all Robert, without consulting his wife, who had brought the esteemed Sir Philip Tapsell to Downton believing that a man of his rank would be better than the local Doctor Clarkson. That decision had cost the life of his beloved daughter and had almost cost him his marriage.
A wise man should learn from his mistakes.
Tom's eyes widen in shock as he looked at the check in his hands … ten thousand pounds! His eyes drifted from the check to the man standing in front of him and then back to the check. When he looked back at the man again his eyes no longer conveyed shock but rather a singular look of disgust.
Waving the check in front of him, his voice barely above a whisper but a glint of steel in his eyes he asked "You want to buy my daughter?"
Robert shook his head. "I dare say you need money for this new venture with your brother." Tilting his head towards the check he continued "that should give you a start not only for the business but a new life."
"But only if I leave Sybbie here … with you?" The coldness in Tom's voice would have sent shivers up most anyone's spine but Robert, so clueless as he often was, didn't see what was coming.
Silence filled the room as Tom's mind fought with his anger. It was Robert who filled the void.
"Do you really want to have your daughter to grow up in a room over a garage smelling of grease and oil? Surely you can see Bran… Tom … that I can give her so much more than you can. Living here she'll—"
"You can keep her dressed in the finest of silks" Tom interrupted, his sarcasm completely lost on Robert, "and her toy box will be filled with whatever she wants and she'll know which fork or which glass to use-"
Now it was Robert's turn to interrupt. "Exactly my lad. She'll have the best of everything. She'll have riding lessons and piano lessons. She'll have her own nanny and a governess. She'll be accep-"
"She won't have her father."
Robert raised his hand as if to stop Tom. "Of course you can come visit."
Tom's anger had now risen so that his body was trembling. He reflexively ran his hand through his hair and looking away from his father-in-law and towards one of the floor to ceiling windows he took several deep breaths. His impulse was to slap this man silly but that would probably land him in prison.
The view out the window of the distant gently rolling hills, the fields separated by stone fences, made Tom briefly think of his beloved Ireland. He took one final deep breath and then turned back to face Robert.
"My daughter would have everything but what her mother and I want for her" his voice calm but steely, his blue eyes boring into Robert. "You forget it was a life your daughter left."
Tom raised the check and tore it in two letting both pieces drop to the floor. "My daughter is not for sale."
Tom brushed past Robert, his steps deliberate as he headed for the door on the far side of the room, stopping as he reached the first of the plush red sofas. He turned back towards Robert. "Sybil loved you but you failed to see her for who she was. You failed her-" his voice faltered.
Finding his voice again he continued "Sybbie and I will leave in the morning."
A wise man learns from his mistakes. But Robert Crawley was not a wise man.