A/N I: My sincerest apologies for the long wait between updates. I did not intend for it to take this long. This chapter was completely re-worked at least 3 times. I think 5 words are the same from original to final draft. I'm still only like 90% happy with it. Plus, since updating, I have started a new job and been in two weddings. Life is busy! You are rewarded for your patience with the longest chapter yet.

A/N II: As a reminder, we are in spring 1926. Sybbie is about 6, George about 5. They have an abusive governess and Thomas and Carson are joining forces to help the children get rid of her. Characters and story elements from beyond season 3 are not a factor. Enjoy!


Sybbie had a habit of sneaking off to the downstairs at least once a day. She enjoyed treats made from her by Mrs. Patmore and dancing along with the piano. She was spoiled by the whole staff and loved every moment of it.

Sybbie stayed off her feet as long as the daughter of Lady Sybil Crawley could be expected to. She was racing down the stairs days before Clarkson would have liked.

Thomas and Carson sat Sybbie down with her favorite tea. She chatted away happily about all the special attention she'd gotten because of her ankle.

"Miss Branson," Carson began as Sybbie took a sip, "remember when you told me about the evil governess?"

Sybbie nodded, fearfully.

"You know Lord and Lady Grantham and Lady Mary don't see Miss Harriet as evil. All they see is that you and Master George are learning and are very clever. "

Sybbie had tears in her eyes and her lower lip trembled, "I tried, Carson, I did, I tried telling my papa and grandpapa-"

Thomas couldn't stand seeing the sweet girl cry. He knew it wasn't proper, but he got out of his chair and knelt down next to Sybil. "Now, you listen to me, Miss Branson, you did nothing wrong. Mr. Carson and I have a plan, okay?"

Sybbie kept crying. "But she hurt Georgie too, I couldn't stop her! I couldn't stop her, Barrow! I couldn't." She had started crying like a lady, but now bawled like a little girl and reached out to Thomas for comfort. Thomas glanced helplessly at Carson. Thomas was extremely uncomfortable but his love for the girl outweighed it.

Carson was even more uncomfortable, so after a moment he cleared his throat, leaned over the table, and whispered, "Miss Branson, Mr. Barrow and I have a plan to make sure Miss Harriet never hurts you or Master George ever again."

Sybbie sniffed and pulled her head up from Thomas' shoulder. Her hand remained there as she said, "You do?" a glimmer of hope appeared in her eyes when she looked between the two men.

"We do," Thomas assured her, "We can show everyone how evil Miss Harriet is, and after that, Lord and Lady Grantham won't want to keep her here. But, we need your help."

"My help?" Sybbie asked tentatively.

"Yours, and Master George's."

"I'm scared, Barrow," Sybbie whispered.

"I promise it will be okay. You know the song that's always sung on the wireless?"

Sybbie nodded.

"We just need you to sing that song and change a few words. Just this one time. And say that Miss Harriet taught you the song. That's all." Thomas said quickly.

"That's lying, Barrow," Sybbie protested.

Thomas had no answer for that. Carson did. "Miss Branson, did Miss Harriet teach you that song?"

Sybbie hesitated. "I guess."


Breakfast, the next morning, servants' hall

"Miss Harriet, how do the children fare at their studies?"

Thomas suspected Anna had been clued in to their plan. Now he was almost certain.

"Just because you can't have any children, Mrs. Bates, does not mean you need to pry into the lives of others'," Miss Harriet flippantly replied.

Most of the staff sat in shocked silence at the governess' cruel reply.

Mr. Carson, however, had diplomatically responded to countless such barbs- many of which Thomas himself had delivered. "Miss Harriet, I believe Mrs. Bates was making polite conversation. There is no harm in her knowing how the children are."

"I believe we are all curious, Miss Harriet," Mrs. Hughes innocently sipped her broth, "perhaps another recital is due."

"Oh yes," Daisy enthused from the doorway. "Recitals are such fun! I'm always so impressed, Miss Harriet, with all that you can teach the children to do."

Daisy was in on the plan too! Blast it! Thomas lit a cigarette in frustration. It had been inevitable that Carson would include Hughes, but this was insanity.

The rest of the staff enthusiastically agreed with Daisy and spoke of their favorite portions of the previous recitals the children had given.

Carson cleared his throat to quiet the noisy room. "Needless to say, Miss Harriet, your recitals have a lot of fans. And I doubt they are all downstairs," he said pointedly.

Miss Harriet said nothing, but Thomas knew well the looks of a devious mind in motion, and she had one.


A few days and about a hundred cigarettes later, Thomas resigned the effort to contain the plot. It seemed everyone was asking Miss Harriet pointed questions, gossiping about her views, and making observations to each other about her habits and words.

"MISTER Barrow, I'll ask you to cease distracting Miss Sybil from her studies this instant." Miss Harriet snapped at Thomas as he slowly walked past the nursery.

"My deepest apologies Miss Harriet, I was just curious to see if Miss Sybil wanted to rehearse for the recital downstairs at all."

"Downstairs? Why ever would she rehearse there? So dirty!"

"While that may be true, Miss Harriet, we certainly don't want Miss Branson rehearsing upstairs. Her grandparents will hear her in progress! We want them to hear the final perfect product and be in awe of all that you have accomplished."

Miss Harriet paused.

Sybbie piped up, "Perhaps, Miss Harriet, Georgie and I—"

"Your cousin's name is George, Miss Branson. One day you will call him Lord Grantham. Don't you forget that," Miss Harriet lectured Sybbie.

"George and I could rehearse downstairs just before bath."

"I suppose there are times you could rehearse there, like before riding or before bath. Yes, I'm glad I thought of that." Barrow rolled his eyes. Miss Harriet continued, "Very well, Miss Branson, we will schedule you and Master George to rehearse in the downstairs piano once a week for an hour until the recital. I, of course, will have to spend the time preparing the program, so I presume, Mr. Barrow, you will be able to look after the children?"

This was another one of Miss Harriet's ploys. She often coerced others into watching the children, and thus, doing her job. She usually sat in her room and read magazines discarded from Lady Mary or Lady Edith. Most of the staff adored the children, so she got away with it much of the time.

"Of course, Miss Harriet," Thomas plastered his sly, fake smile, "Mr. Carson or I would be thrilled to look after Miss Branson and Master George for a short time. You ought to rest, put your feet up."

Miss Harriet was too self-absorbed to detect Thomas' sarcasm, so she nodded dismissively and turned back to her needlework. Thomas winked at Sybbie, then whistled the rest of the way downstairs, picturing Miss Harriet in the bread line.


A few weeks later, dinnertime

God bless them, those children were clever. Well, at the end of the day, they were children of the Crawley sisters. Even with the limited time Carson and Barrow had with the children to teach them the new lyrics to a familiar song, they both knew the words well. Next time Carson hires an upstart, snotty maid (only a matter of time), I'm recruiting Sybbie and George to help me, Thomas thought as he carried a tray into the dining room.

The conversation among the family was already in progress.

"I hear the Duchess is very near her time," Edith was saying.

"Do you suppose they would announce it on the wireless?" Cora, the progressive American, enthused.

"Why not?" Mary said. "Papa, can we bring out the wireless after dinner and see if there is news of a new royal baby?"

"Absolutely, that is a splendid idea!" Lord Grantham turned to Thomas. "Barrow, I trust you will arrange it?"

Thomas bowed. "Happy to, m'lord." He replied, and began sweating profusely. The children were clever enough to learn new lyrics to a song they had heard a thousand times, but to expect them to understand and know to sing the original lyrics in this situation might be a lot to ask.


Barrow and Carson were not successful in pulling either of the children aside to warn them. Thomas watched the children intently as the entire family was gathered around the radio. The broadcast was almost over and his heart rate had not slowed in the last two hours.

Thomas braced himself against the wall as the familiar tune projected. The family stood, including the children. Sybbie turned her head around to see Carson and Barrow- and winked.

God save our gracious King!
Long live our noble King!
God save the King!
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us:
God save the King!

If I didn't know better, Thomas thought with relief, I'd credit their governess.

"Sounds like there is no new prince or princess tonight," Lord Grantham bemoaned while turning off the radio. Thomas had been too panicked to pay attention to the content of the broadcast and had not noticed the announcement the family waited for never came.

"We'll just have to listen again tomorrow night, Papa," Lady Edith said.

There are not enough cigarettes in Yorkshire, Thomas thought.


Thomas had no use for royal babies, but was immensely relieved when the news of the birth of a healthy princess was announced the next night.

The entire household, plus many of their usual visitors, were now gathered two weeks later and the stage was set- for Miss Harriet's professional demise.

They waited until the end.

"And now," Sybbie announced, "my cousin and I will perform Miss Harriet's favorite song in honor of all she has taught us. "

"Isn't that sweet," Cora whispered to Lord Grantham.

Sybbie sat at the piano and placed her fingers on the keys. George sat beside her, ready to turn pages and sing along. Sybbie's eyes moved momentarily over toward the line of servants where Carson and Barrow stood. For the first time in the 15 years working together, the two men nodded ever so slightly in synch.

If these two men, whom Sybbie loved, but hated each other, who had rivaled and quarreled long before she had been born, could agree that this was the right thing- well, that was all the confidence Miss Sybil needed.

Miss Sybil began playing a tune everyone knew. Lord Grantham was on his feet so fast Barrow thought he'd have whiplash. Everyone else followed suit- except Miss Harriet.

Why she didn't, Thomas would never know. Later she claimed it was her knee. Maybe she really did have some anti-monarchist in her. Maybe the Lord above finally recognized that Thomas occasionally did something for the overall good.

Whatever the reason, it played perfectly into Thomas' plot and in that brief moment, Thomas knew Miss Harriet was out of their lives. Out of dear sweet Sybil's life. She and Master George were safe.

"God Save our gracious King-" Thomas sang with everyone else.

Everyone except Sybbie and Georgie.

They sang something else.

And then no one sang at all.

The entire household went pale- even Tom.

Miss Harriet jumped first and forcefully pinched Sybbie's wrist off the keyboard. "You smelly Irish republican!" she spat. "How dare you teach your cousin such filth?!"

"Sybbie did no such thing!" Tom ran up to his crying child and wretched her out of Miss Harriet's grasp. Tom held her close and comforted her. He knelt down to his bewildered nephew. "Georgie, who taught you that song?"

Lord and Lady Grantham, the Dowager Countess, Ladies Mary and Edith had all gathered close enough to hear Georgie's whisper.

"Miss Harriet did, Uncle Tom. I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was so bad!" Georgie then joined his cousin in tears and Tom reached out for him too, knowing Lady Mary was unlikely to show affection to her son in public.

Lady Grantham, the first to gather her wits, turned to the servants who had stood in the back. "Thank you all for coming, but the show is over. It should go without saying, but the views implied by the words that slipped from the children's mouths are not shared or tolerated by Lord Grantham and myself. Please return to your duties."


It was safe to say after that, everything had gone off according to plan.

Miss Harriet was escorted out the door the very afternoon of the recital and was allowed to stay at the Grantham Arms- for one night. The next day, Mrs. Hughes "discovered" some paraphernalia planted earlier (Tom Branson had been in on the plot as well), and Lord Grantham suddenly started to remember what all the people around him had been telling him for weeks, but he was too stubborn to hear. Miss Harriet was then formally discharged without a reference, never to darken the doorway of Downton Abbey ever again.


The night following the recital, late

Thomas sat in the servants' dining room, smoking and reading the paper, miraculously still employed.

Thomas didn't look up when Carson walked in, but asked, "How is Miss Branson, Mr. Carson?"

Carson's only response was, "It's your turn to check on her, Mr. Barrow."

Mrs. Hughes stepped out of the shadows. "Best go up there straight away. She's asking for you."

Thomas exhaled his cigarette, calmly put it out, and left the room.

Mrs. Hughes peeked around the corner and saw Thomas taking the steps two at a time. She smiled to herself, thinking of the hard- hearted under butler with a big soft spot for a little girl without a mother. She turned to Mr. Carson, "Tea?"


As Mrs. Hughes hinted, Sybbie was eager to see the underbutler. Thomas found her, nightgown and rumpled hair, an hour or more after her father had tucked her in, peaking out of her suite. Sybbie ran towards him and threw her arms around his waist. "Barrow! We did it! We did it, Barrow!"

Barrow looked each way down the hall, and seeing no one, lifted the little girl into a full embrace.

Thomas couldn't remember the last time anyone hugged him. It was at that moment he realized, he loved Sybil Branson because she was Sybil Branson, not because she was Lady Sybil's daughter.

"YOU did it, Miss Branson. You and Master George."

"Miss Harriet is gone."

"That's right. She won't be able to hurt you any more. It's all because of you. You and Master George changed your destiny." Thank you, Lord, Thomas thought.

"We won't sing that song again."

"That's a good idea."

"I've never seen Grandpapa so mad!" Miss Sybil's eyes were big in awe.

I have, Barrow thought.

"Thank you, Barrow," she whispered in his ear.

"You're welcome, Miss Branson. Now, it is past your bedtime. I'll tuck you back in, okay?"

"Will you tell me a story?"

"Sure," Thomas set the little girl down and cleared his throat. "Once upon a time at Downton Abbey, there was an evil footman and a stern butler. The footman and butler fought all the time, until one day, a beautiful young princess needed their help…."


A/N III: Not only do I not own Downton Abbey, I also do not own the lyrics to "God Save the King (Queen)."

A/N IV: The "royal baby" referenced is Queen Elizabeth II.

A/N V: You will be happy to know, I have already started the next chapter, and I have every reason to hope it will not be 8 months between updates.