A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, you guys are great! I'm glad you are enjoying it, so for all you Sybil/Branson fans, this one's for you!

I'm also going to follow this up with another part set at the end of the war.

The atmosphere within the house was so oppressive, Sybil needed to get away. Ever since Papa had announced the dreadful news that the country was at war the whole house had been in uproar. Mary was prowling like a caged lioness, back and forth, back and forth; it made Sybil dizzy just to watch. She knew Mary was worried, despite her bravado and cold exterior, Mary was just as worried as everyone else.

Edith had barely spoken since the party; she sat alone from the rest of the family lost in thought. Sybil feared it was something to do with Sir Anthony leaving so quickly but with Edith you could never be sure.

Granny had been the most amusing diversion of the whole event. She had sat there, sipping her sherry and offering barbed comments whenever the feeling took her. She'd had a verbal spat with Mrs Crawley over what would be expected of all young men in such an occasion as war. This had provoked Mrs Crawley to almost her limits and she had moved away rapidly before she lost control of her tongue.

Mama and Papa had been sat together in contemplative silence, no doubt wondering how this would affect their home and their lives.

Sybil however did not want to sit and think. She wanted to be out there doing something. Anything. Surely sitting around and talking wasn't going to change anything a jot, was it? She realised there was only one person she wanted to see, one person who would hold a sensible conversation with her, one person who would make her feel like…well a human and not just the daughter of an aristocrat.

As soon as it was socially possible, Sybil made her excuses. She spent some time walking through the grounds. Deep down she knew she shouldn't go there, no matter how much she may wish to. He wasn't from her world and she wasn't from his, he'd lived and seen the world and all she had witnessed was the things her parents deemed fit for her to see.

She had lived a privileged and sheltered life, there was no getting away from that but now she was ready to know more of the world. She wanted to see and witness it all and it was possible. He had made her see that. Made her see that there was more to life than just balls and that life didn't end at the gates of the house. There was a world out there, with real people who needed real help. Help she wanted to give.

She had never been like her sisters, always wondering about the next ball and who would be there to ask you to dance. All her life she had been Sybil, the youngest – the baby. Always last to know things and forever hidden by the shadow of Mary. All that had changed when he arrived, suddenly she had someone who believed in her, who shared who views, who understood. Surely it shouldn't matter what class you were from...should it?

Sybil had never been in love before but she could easily believe herself to love him. He made her feel alive...like she was worth something and not just the third daughter of an Earl. Earl. Her father was an Earl and that made her a lady. What did it make him? A chauffeur. No class ranking, no title and no money. It could never be, an Earl's daughter could never marry a chauffeur no matter how old fashioned the idea might be.

Yet...Sybil had never been one to conform to society, she didn't agree with it. If it was love, who could say no?

She realised too late that her wanderings had taken her right up to the chauffeur's lodge. She was about to turn on her heels when she noticed the garage door open and Branson appear. He caught sight of her and smiled, his eyes lighting up as he admired her figure.

"Good day m'lady!" His greeting was warm and immediately she felt at ease in his presence. "Do you want to go somewhere?"

"No..no I was just out walking." Sybil shifted on the spot, "I needed to get out, and the atmosphere in the house is truly unpleasant."

Branson's face darkened as he realised what was darkening the mood within the big house, it was the same thing that was darkening the mood of every home across the land.

"I can well imagine m'lady" He replied. "Is Mr Crawley going to sign up?"

Sybil gave a sigh, "Yes, Mary is beside herself and so is Papa but Matthew is quite determined."

Branson nodded; despite the different backgrounds he could imagine the reasons behind Mr Crawley's decision. They would be same reasons he and every man had – pride.

"At least his Lordship will remain here." The statement was meant to make Sybil happier but instead her face contorted slightly as though she was in pain.

"Papa is talking of offering his services; he wants to take Bates with him. The shock nearly killed poor Granny and as for Mama….." Sybil looked away as tears pricked at her eyelids. "I'm not sure how we will cope, I don't think I could cope if my husband was going to go away and fight."

She looked back at Branson and their eyes met. Branson shifted and looked away, he found he looked at her far too much, it was impertinent of him and he knew it…but he really couldn't help himself.

"I'm sure your Father won't be fighting, he'll probably be training new recruits or maybe he might do battle plans?" Branson tried to think of roles Lord Grantham could play in the war, roles which wouldn't seem dangerous.

"I'm sure we will know more men who will leave to join the war effort." Sybil mused, "This I fear will have a huge impact on the political state of the country. Women must get the vote now!"

Branson couldn't help but chuckle; she had such a way with words and was so determined about the cause that he found her truly bewitching. "I suppose so m'lady"

"How many men downstairs are talking of going?" Sybil looked at him with sincerity and Branson realised with horror she hadn't let it cross her mind that he might go.

"Well…." Branson struggled with the words. "Thomas is going to be a doctor….Bates is obviously going with his Lordship." He paused, "William is talking of signing up…"

"Oh no! Not poor William!" Sybil cried aghast, "He's such a nice boy he wouldn't kill anyone!"

Branson coughed slightly, she wasn't going to make this easy he could tell. "He feels it's his duty….and so do I."

Sybil looked confused, "I don't think you should tell him what his duty is Branson!"

"No m'lady you misunderstand. It's also my duty, I want to go and fight as well." Branson had not felt this awkward since he was caught speeding (a mere 25mph) his last employer's car.

Sybil felt the world stop. She'd heard that expression before somewhere, she couldn't remember where right now but she'd heard it and laughed for how can the world stop? But it could and she was experiencing it right now. Branson leave? Put himself in danger in some dreadful trench in God knows where? Not possible!

"But…." Sybil struggled to form the words. "I thought you would want to remain here, continue with politics, it would be the perfect time!"

Branson shook his head sadly, "Not for a man like me m'lady. I have to go, it is the only right thing to do."

"I don't want you to go!" She cried suddenly. She knew she sounded like a spoilt child but she didn't care, she had to make him see sense! He had to stay; he was her rock and anchor. Without him how would she continue with her canvassing?

"Lady Sybil," Branson stepped forward.

"Oh stop with all the formality!" Sybil cried, "There are more important things in the world than addressing me correctly!"

"Maybe. But you are my employer's daughter, an Earl's daughter and I am a chauffeur from Ireland. We are worlds apart and I have to remember that. I may want to call you many things but I cannot. It wouldn't be proper!"

Branson found himself stood right before Sybil and he could see the hurt in her eyes, he desperately wanted to take her hand, hold her, kiss her even but that could never be.

"The world is changing and I do not see why in this time of progression that two people cannot be close simply because one is born into aristocracy. I didn't ask to be born an Earl's daughter!" Sybil's voice sounded strained as she tried to control her emotions.

This conversation was getting out of hand and Branson knew it. There was such tension between them and had been for a while but it was an impossible situation. He could never have her, she was far too good for him and he would never be worthy enough. However, the tension! It made him want to yell and shout and it made him want her desperately.

"But you were born an Earl's daughter." Branson said simply. "You will marry someone of your own class and you will be happy."

"I don't think I could ever be happy, not without you." Sybil replied. She knew she was overstepping so many boundaries but she didn't care. She didn't care a jot! She took a deep breath before speaking next.

"Do you love me Branson?"

Branson's jaw dropped slightly, Lord had she just asked him that? His mind whirled, what do you reply to that? The truth perhaps? The truth…the truth was he did love her, he'd loved her since their first conversation but he knew it could never be and so he'd contented himself with admiring her from afar but there were so many signs, so many signs that she loved him back.

Many times he had entertained the idea of them being together, of him walking right up to Lord Grantham and telling him they were walking out together and that he could disapprove all he wanted but they were in love and would marry. He even imagined telling old lady Grantham that from now on she could call him "Son" just for the sheer hell of it! But of course this was just a pipe dream, one that could never be.

He suddenly realised he hadn't replied, he opened his mouth to begin when she hit him with the next bombshell.

"Because I love you."

"Sybil….." He began; he couldn't quite believe how this was turning out. He wondered if he was dreaming. "I love you, of course I do!"

Her face lit up with happiness and her hands reached for his but he pulled back from her, her face fell.

"M'lady….this cannot happen." He said simply. "The world is not ready."

Sybil sighed angrily, "Why? Why must we conform to what everyone else wants? Why should it matter if we love each other?"

"It shouldn't but it does." Branson said sadly, "Maybe one day things will change, but not right now."

Sybil sighed unhappily, "So I'm just to carry on as before and marry some bore that my parents choose for me? Do you really want me to be so unhappy?"

"Of course I don't!" Branson cried, "You won't be unhappy, you will marry well and you will be happy because that's the sort of person you are. I will go to war and you will forget all about me."

"Never! I won't ever forget about you! I won't marry either, I refuse to! I am going to prove to everyone, to you, that we can be together and when you get back from war I will be waiting." Sybil said passionately her eyes flashing with determination.

Branson smiled at her and took her hand; he felt that it would be appropriate at this moment. "I don't doubt that you will!" His smile turned to a grin and soon they were laughing together.

He gave her hand a squeeze, "Then that will be something for me to look forward to whilst I am away and if I return to find you married…."

"You won't!"

"If I do then I shall take comfort that you will have married only for a deep love and that you must be happy, for that is all I want for you." Branson's hand tightened on hers. "And I would leave here a happy man."

"I won't" She said firmly, "I will be waiting for you and things will be different. You'll see."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. He prayed and hoped she was right for he knew if he did return to find her married it would kill him. He would never get over it and he would die a lonely and sad man. Dear Lord, let the world truly change for us. He hoped his prayer was heard.

"I'm afraid for you." Sybil said softly.

"I'm afraid too." Branson replied honestly. War was a terrible thing and the thought of killing someone brought the contents of his stomach into his mouth.

"I shall write to you, keep reminding you that I love you." Sybil's voice was soft and she smiled as he kissed her hand again.

"Then I have no need to be afraid, I just need to look forward to your next letter. That is what will keep me going!" He was trying to sound confident but it wasn't working.

Sybil was about to speak again when she heard approaching footsteps. Branson dropped her hand as if it was poison.

"There you are! Mama was getting worried!" Edith said coolly. "I thought you must be here"

She fixed a cool stare at Branson before speaking to Sybil again, "Come, you are wanted inside, come Sybil!"

Edith turned and walked away. Sybil looked at Branson and he nodded in silent understanding.

"Don't be afraid." She whispered, "Think only of me."

Branson smiled as she walked away and from that day on whenever he felt afraid he just thought of her and the soft touch of her lovely hand.