Secret Vows – Chapter 4
AN: I don't own the characters, just borrowing them for a bit. All comments and criticisms greatly appreciated.
2 months later
The war continued to rage on with no apparent end in sight. A seemingly endless number of scarred and broken soldiers made their way to the hospital every day. Some so marred they were likely beyond recognition to their own mothers. Sybil often wondered what kind of a God, the one she prayed to every Sunday, would leave a human being in such a condition. What sort of hell on earth were these men now cast into for the remainder of their lives. Many were permanently disabled, lost limbs, blindness, deafness, and paralysis were only a handful of the atrocities seen in the hospital every day. Then even if their physical ailments hadn't destroyed them, it seemed as though their minds would.
Sybil could not even being to imagine the atrocities that these poor men had encountered at the front. The word men was a euphemism. Some of her patients were no more than boys, younger than herself. They should have been at school, riding and hunting and courting beautiful young ladies. Instead they now spent their days in these beds. Some never spoke at all, while other told stories of events that no person should have ever had to encounter.
The night shift tended to be the worst, and she dreaded it every time she was assigned to it. The fall of darkness and the call of sleep brought forth the demons from within these soldiers heads. Some nights there was so much screaming and moaning, that she sometimes wondered if this what the battlefield had sounded like after the quiet of the bombs and bullets. She had lost count of the number of men she had sat with and held while they cried after being awakened from their tormented sleep. It tortured her soul to watch.
Then there were those who wouldn't, or couldn't sleep. Often times they paced the floors, furiously puffing on cigarettes, which were never quite able to calm their tattered nerves. Their tired, haggard faces spoke of the horrors that they had been forced to endure or commit in the name of their country.
Lights and lamps burned constantly through the night. Just as sleep terrified some, darkness haunted the others. Long months living in cold, dark, rodent infested fox holes had robbed these soldiers of the simple ability to sleep in the dark. Something that all adults, past the age of 10, take for granted. To be cast back to a childhood terror as an adult, knowing that there was no rational reason why the paralyzing fear would grip a grown man at the mere thought of being in a darkened room.
It had become apparent to many that the men needed a place to convalesce after the majority of their injuries had been repaired. Downton Abbey was the obvious choice, with its numerous bedrooms and common rooms that could accommodate a large numbers of soldiers. While the family of the house knew that this was the right, honorable thing to do, that didn't make it any easier to accept the masses of people over taking their home.
The new arrangements created a significant amount of friction between Isobel and the family, or more specifically Cora. Isobel had fancied herself the manager of the convalescent house due to her previous nursing experience. She had marched into the household and tried to take over the everyday running, paying no mind to the family that currently lived there. However, it was going to be a cold day in hell before Cora would let it continue. She staged a bit of a coup, figuratively wrestling back power under Isobel's nose. As a result Isobel had felt slighted and un-needed, and left for France where she felt her skills and knowledge would be appreciated.
Sybil was currently splitting her time between the hospital and Downton. She worked long, hard hours, which left very little time for her husband or herself. The marriage had not yet been discovered, but she wondered if it could even really be called a marriage. They rarely saw one another, and when they did it was as employee and employer. They had only been able to steal away together a handful of times, and even then it hadn't been for long.
So many nights she longed to lay in his arms, drinking in the comfort they offered. She wasn't sure how much longer she was going to be able to do this. She wanted to be with her husband. To live with, eat with and sleep with him on a daily basis. It was becoming unbearable to see him at various times throughout the day, but to always having to keep herself at arms length from him.
It was this desperate loneliness that drove her to become reckless. She chanced visiting him at the garage. It was late and the family had mostly retired for the evening. She knew he would still be up, as he would be returning from driving her Granny back to the Dowager house. He was just closing and locking the doors when she saw him.
He looked tired. Though she only saw his back, his shoulders were rounded and his posture appeared weary. She knew exactly how he felt.
"Long day?" she called out.
He startled slightly, and turned quickly to face her. "What are you doing here, is everything alright?" the smile on his face contrasting with the obvious worry in his voice.
She could no longer control herself. Tears sprung to her eyes and she launched herself into his arms. He stumbled back slightly, gladly accepting the force of her weight. His arms wrapped tight around her, wanting to draw her into him as close as two people could humanly be. The hug was fierce on both sides.
Their arms were in constant motion, grasping, tightening and holding on for dear life. Her head lay against his chest, the cold, polished buttons pressing into her neck and face, yet she didn't register the discomfort of the raised surface of the buttons imprinting on her skin. This was right; this was where she belonged, within the protective cocoon his embrace offered. The tears fell then. Not small dainty tears accompanied by quiet sniffling, but great droplets accompanied by desperate sobs. The green of his uniform became darker beneath her face, the torrents soaking through the material, wetting the skin beneath.
His hand moved to cradle her head against him. Placing a kiss in her hair , he murmured soothing nothing words, hoping that they helped to calm her, even though inside he felt the same way. The loneliness had built up inside him too. If she hadn't come to him this night, he was sure he would have gone to her and risked everything.
Tom felt her start to calm. The tears and sobs had stopped, replaced by hiccups and sniffling. He leaned back slightly, bringing his hands to either side of her face. Gazing into her eyes, he slowly lowered his head to hers, touching her lips gently. What started innocently quickly became passionate.
She was voracious, wanting to consume him. They took each other in, as much as their situation would allow. Their mouths slanted over one another over and over and over. This is what she had been waiting for. This was what she had longed for and dreamt of all those lonely nights.
He tore his lips from hers and traced a scorching line down her chin to the hollow of her throat. It was then that the cool night air invaded their cocoon, and pulled her from the passionate haze. Her cloudy mind realized they were out in the open for anyone to see. So, with herculean effort she stepped out of his arms. The rush of cool air nearly took her breath away. She craved his warmth.
They stood staring at one another, their heavy exhales mixing in the space between them. He knew she was right. This certainly wasn't the place for them to lose control, to risk being seen, but he wanted her so much. So much. She was like a drug to him. Now that he had had a another small taste, he would certainly crave her.
She knew everything he was feeling. Taking his face into her hand and whispered, "I love you. I love you. I love you."
Closing his eyes he returned quietly, "I know. And I love you. More than you could ever know."
"It won't be forever Tom. We'll find a way to be together more often. I won't be without you anymore."
He lowered his forehead to hers, and looking into her eyes," We will be together. Soon," he vowed.
Rising on tip toes once more she kissed him one last time, turned and hurried away. He watched her retreating form until she was no more than a silhouette against the looming great house. With a sigh he turned and made his way, alone once again, to his cottage.
Silently Sybil slipped back into the house. She made her way up the stairs and to her room, unaware of the maliciously watchful eyes that were trained on her back.