Hi everyone! Thank you for the kind reviews and comments. I just wanted to let you know that there are no intentional spoilers here. I don't live in the UK, so unfortunately season 3 won't start until January for me. Enjoy!
Tom let his hands wander aimlessly over the creased bindings of the well-worn books in Lord Grantham's library. He could hardly count the times he would drift into the library to pick a book to read during the long quiet nights of his employment. Then, they had served as a distraction, anything to keep his mind off Sybil.
Tom's fingers stopped at the hunter green cover. He couldn't help but smile at the deteriorating binding as he cautiously pulled it from the shelf. The book with no title, he thought to himself. He cautiously thumbed through the pages, remembering the day the book appeared on his worktable in the garage with a short handwritten note inside, a note that could still be found folded carefully and hidden in the breast pocket of his gray suit jacket.
Dear Tom-
I finished this novel just yesterday and the whole time I thought it something you might enjoy. Perhaps, we could discuss your thoughts on it after you've finished.
Sybil
Tom had memorized the contents of the note the same evening he received it. It hadn't been long after Sybil returned from nursing school. How she had the free time to read, Tom never questioned, but what he did know was that Sybil was fully aware of his feelings toward her the day she placed the book on his table.
It had taken Tom all of two days to finished the book, which had been an essay on the politics of hierarchy and social classes. Tom did enjoy reading it, just as Sybil had predicted, and true to her word, the next evening, Sybil Crawley came to the garage, long after being relieved of her duties that consisted of, Tom guessed, sitting in the library and listening to her relatives talk about the woos of aristocracy.
"You seemed to finish it rather quickly," Sybil smiled as she stood at the entrance of the garage.
Tom looked up from his work on the car and smiled back at her. "It was a pleasant enough read," he replied as he wiped his hands on the old rag he kept handy when working on the engines.
He and Sybil sat in the garage and talked for as long as either of them could afford, and although it pained both of them to have to separate, they agreed they would continue their conversation the following evening.
"I just don't understand," Tom had said. "How these people can sit in their castles while they have so much and disregard those who have so little."
"We're not all bad, Tom," Sybil said. "We give to charity, and some of us even volunteer with the war effort," Sybil smiled warily as she motioned to the nursing uniform she was still wearing from her evening of work.
Tom moved the crate he was using as a makeshift chair closer to Sybil so she could see the passage in the book he was referring to. "I didn't mean Lord Grantham, Milady. I find that he's a fair employer. It only seems that some are more concerned with their title than with the peasants in their own village."
"We're trained at birth that the most important item we possess is our title. We're trained to think it's a privilege, and a delicacy to be preserved at all cost." Sybil's voice became softer, and it was increasingly harder for her to concentrate on what she was trying to communicate as Tom Branson's lips looked more and more inviting. "Not all of us are lucky enough to see through the lie."
Tom swallowed hard. He was inches away from Sybil now, and he felt as though she might be able to hear his heart pounding in his chest. "And have you seen through the lie, Milady?" he asked her.
Sybil couldn't think straight. Everything about her wanted to run away with Tom, even then she had known that, but her whole life would be separated into two very messy worlds. And that she wasn't sure she was ready to handle. So when she was finally able to think clearly enough to form a sentence, she replied very softly, "I'm nearly there, I think."
His lips looked so inviting that Sybil really didn't have any other option but to lean in to kiss them. Just as she was half an inch away from him, something outside the garage made a large noise, something loud enough to snap Sybil and Tom back to attention. "I should go," Sybil said hastily, and before Tom could even say goodbye, she had left him.
Tom went two days without so much as seeing Lady Sybil. He was sure that he had scared her off, that he had ruined everything. And then, three nights after the two had almost kissed, another book appeared on his worktable with another note asking if they could discuss it when he finished.
"I thought you might be in here, what with my fiancé running you out," Matthew smiled as he stepped in the room.
"Ah, it's not so much a problem," Tom replied, coming out of his memories and placing the book back on the shelf. "I think Sybil was looking forward to spending some time with Mary."
"I hope she doesn't mind being interrogated," Matthew said as he sat down in one of the armchairs. "I tried to tell Mary to let her rest, but Mary doesn't seem to heed instructions very well."
Tom nodded as he sat in a chair across from Matthew. "It must be a trait that runs in all Crawley women."
"How is Sybil?" Matthew asked. "She's not still getting ill in the mornings, is she?"
Tom shook his head, "No, she's past that now, I think. She says she's doing well, that she feels great. She tires easily though, but that's to be expected."
Matthew could see the worry on Tom's face. "I suppose I should have asked how you're doing."
Tom smiled wearily. "I suspect I'm a bit anxious. Sybil and I, we were only married a few months, and then this. We're both young, and neither one of us knows a thing about raising a child."
Matthew nodded thoughtfully, and even though he understood Tom's anxieties, he couldn't help but envying him slightly. If he and Mary were to be expecting a child so earlier in their marriage it would surely help relieve some of the pressure he was feeling to produce an heir.
"Well, Sybil's young," Matthew teased, "but I'm not so sure about you. And as far as being scared goes, I should suspect no one feels completely prepared before they become parents."
"Did Mary ask if you knew about the baby?"
Matthew laughed at his recollection. "After a few moments of stammering about, she eventually came to ask if I had known of it."
"Did you tell her?"
Matthew shook his head, "She would tell on me to Sybil in a heartbeat," he smiled. "No, your secret is safe with me. Our wives don't have to know everything."
Tom smiled gratefully. He had written to Matthew almost instantly after Sybil told him they would be expecting their first child. Sybil had insisted they not tell her sisters, but Tom needed someone to lean on during the months they would be absent. Not having many close friends in Ireland, Tom decided to write to Matthew, and he was glad he had.
"She's not your wife yet," Tom reminded him. "Have you decided on a date?"
"We're waiting until after Mr. Bates is released."
"Are you getting closer?" Tom asked him. "In your last letter you said you thought you might have a lead."
Matthew ran a hand through his hair. He still hated himself for what he had asked Mary to do. "We do have an excellent lead," Matthew told him half-heartedly.
"Well, it doesn't sound very promising," Tom replied, noting Matthew's pain-stricken face.
"I'm afraid I've done something quite stupid," Matthew said confiding in his companion.
Tom nodded quietly, "Well, I'm sure you have," he teased. "But perhaps you should tell me what it is."
. . . . .
When Tom went back to their room, Sybil was asleep on the bed, her body curved into a "c" with her hands cradling her stomach.
Tom smiled at his wife and the way her hands always seemed to rest there. He was glad to see her sleeping. Although Sybil would never admit it, Tom was well aware that the trip to Downton had exhausted her.
He slipped his shoes, jacket, and tie off and crawled into bed, being careful not to wake her. Instinctively, Sybil moved toward him as Tom moved his arm around her.
He could feel the cold of Sybil's feet as they found the warmth of his legs as they so often did. Tom was amazed that someone's feet could be as perpetually cold as Sybil's.
Tom lay in bed with Sybil's head on his chest as he let his hand trace small circles on her back. Tom thought about that day he had driven Sybil to the school where she would train to be a nurse.
He had known his feelings for her long before that day, but it was only on the drive there, with her in the backseat, that he decided he would confess his love to her. She was willing to leave Downton to learn to be a nurse, to serve others. It was the confidence boost he needed. If she was willing to leave for this, then one day, he was sure, she would be willing to leave for him.
"Hmm," Sybil hummed as she reached her hand up to Tom's chest. "I was wondering when you would return."
Tom wrapped his hand around his wife's and held it gently. "Did you have a pleasant rest?" Tom asked.
"Yes," Sybil replied even though she hated to admit it. Tom was the one who had suggested she rest, and Sybil in her stubbornness, insisted she was not tired. At times it drove her mad that Tom seemed to think the only things pregnant women were capable of doing were eating, sleeping, and remaining seated. Though it drove her crazy, she loved him for loving her the ways he did.
"How do you feel?" Tom asked. It was another question that Tom had seemed to consistently ask for the past five months.
"Tom," Sybil said as she looked up at him. "I'm pregnant. I'm not dying."
"I'm aware of that," Tom said as he kissed her hair. "I only want to make sure that you and our daughter are safe."
Sybil smiled and rolled her eyes. "Just how are you so sure that it's a girl?" she asked as she propped herself up on her elbow so she could see him.
"Hmm," Tom hummed. "I have my ways."
Sybil rolled her eyes again and smiled at him. "You don't know it's a girl anymore than I know it's a boy."
"Perhaps not," Tom said as she moved a piece of hair behind her ear. "But I do know that I'm going to love this little baby with everything I am."
"Well," Sybil said. "Then, our child will be the luckiest baby in the world."
"Yes," Tom added. "She will be."
"Yes," Sybil agreed. "He will be."
Thank you again for reading everyone. In the next chapter I'm hoping to get back to Edith/Antony and Mary/Matthew. Also always, reviews, comments, suggestions are welcomed and appreciated.
