The Adelphi Hotel
Liverpool, Late Afternoon

The ride back from Formby was quiet and tense. Mary kept eyeing her father, worried about him as he sat there looking troubled. She knew he was replaying that April night from seventeen years before over and over in his head. When she wasn't checking on her father, Mary herself was reflecting on the past, wondering about her younger sister's life these past seventeen years. How many children did she have? She knew there were two, the girl and the boy from the beach, but were there others? Where were they living? What was Sybil's life like now?

As his mother and grandfather sat in silence, keeping their own counsel, George was wondering about his mother's and grandfather's reactions to the girl who saved him. Sybbie Branson. What is it about you that caused such shocked looks? He knew something was amiss, but knew from past experience that he should wait until they were back in their hotel room to ask.

After a half hour drive in silence, the three Crawleys arrived back at their hotel. As soon as they emerged from the car, Robert turned to Mary. "I'm going to talk to your mother. I'll see you both at dinner." With that, he walked into the hotel.

Mary sighed as she watched her father stroll away. She knew the conversation he was going to have with her mother was going to be a rough one. Her parents' marriage hadn't been the same since that night. Though they remained together, she knew that they slept separately more often than not and that they both took separate trips now.

Turning to her son, she asked, "Shall we?"

He nodded and followed his mother into the hotel. They made their way to the lift and soon were hurling upwards towards the top floor. Once they emerged from the lift and walked the short distance to their room, Mary and George opened the door to see Matthew sitting and reading the paper.

George smiled and shouted, "Father!"

Matthew looked up and smiled. "How are you, my boy?"

"I'm good, considering."

"Considering what?"

Mary interjected, "Considering he nearly drowned because he got a cramp from swimming too soon after lunch."

George rolled his eyes. "Mama," he whined. "I'm fine. That's the least interesting thing that happened."

Matthew chuckled. "What could be more interesting than you almost drowning?"

"Sybil's daughter saved his life."

Matthew, George, and Mary turned sharply to see an upset Cora standing in the open doorway to her and Robert's room, with her husband standing behind her.

George was the first to speak. "I'm confused. The girl's name was Sybil. Who is this Sybil your talking of?"

Cora looked at her grandson, sadness in her eyes. "Your aunt."

The young boy's eyes widened. "But I only have one aunt. Aunt Edith who lives in New York."

"You have two aunts. Your grandfather disowned Sybil seventeen years ago."

George sat down, as did his mother. He noticed how tense she was and began to observe the other members of his family. His grandfather still had that troubled look on his face, but there were traces of stubbornness there too. His father looked sad and sheepish. However, it was his grandmother's face which hit him the hardest. She looked absolutely heartbroken. He knew that his grandparents didn't have the best of marriages, but he'd always assumed it was because they didn't marry for love. Now he knew that there was another, deeper reason for their issues.

Cora walked over and sat next to him. Taking his hands, she began speaking. "You're fifteen now and you deserve to know the truth. Seventeen years ago, your Aunt Sybil, my youngest daughter, announced her intention to marry a man named Tom Branson. He was working class, Irish Catholic, and our chauffeur."

George whistled, knowing how staunch a traditionalist his grandfather was. He also knew how society looked down on such unions.

Despite her tears, Cora chuckled at his reaction. "Exactly. The announcement was met by shock and disbelief from most of us and by anger from your grandfather."

"I'm not surprised." He took a breath. "And that's when he disowned her?"

"Yes."

Robert interjected then. "I did not disown her. She chose him over us. She made the decision to leave everyone and everything behind."

Cora responded sharply. "You gave her an ultimatum. Branson or us. She chose him because she loved him."

The earl and countess glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Eventually, Robert looked away first.

Cora turned her attention back to her grandson. "She left that night with him, taking a room at The Grantham Arms. They left for Ireland the following afternoon. The last time I saw her was when she walked out of the Drawing Room." Looking down, she added softly, "I should have said something."

George, being closest to her, heard his grandmother's words and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Looking at his mother and grandfather, he asked, "But how did you know that she was Aunt Sybil's daughter? I know that her last name is Branson, but you two didn't."

Mary answered. "She's the spitting image of Sybil. She has the same hair, eyes, skin tone, height. It was as though I was looking at a living picture of Sybil when she was sixteen, seventeen years old."

George nodded his head. He wasn't sure what to say, still processing what he just learned about his family. Yet in the deep recesses of his mind he knew he wanted to meet and get to know these missing family members.

Cora, feeling drained from everything, rose from the sofa and started to walk back to her bedroom. "I'm going to lie down. Please arrange a tray to be brought up for me." With that, she shut the door.

Liverpool That Night

The twelve Bransons were sat around two tables pushed together in the Liverpool Bransons' living room. With three adults and nine children, it was the only way for all of them to sit down to eat together. Sybil, having just arrived, was sitting at the head of the table with Connie on her lap. The youngest of Tom and Sybil's children was used to having her parents around and was now clinging to her mother after a week away from her.

As she wiped some mashed potatoes off of Connie's face, Sybil said, "Sharon, that was an excellent meal. Thank you so much."

Sharon beamed at Sybil. "You're welcome." She looked at the dishes and sighed. "I better clean up these dishes."

"I'll help you," responded Sybil.

Shaking her head, Sharon said, "No, that won't be necessary. Kieran and the older children can help me while Sybbie watches over the younger ones. I think Connie wants you."

Sybil smiled down at her daughter, running a hand up and down her back. Connie yawned and snuggled closer to her mother.

"I'm going to ready her for bed. She's tired." Rising from her seat, she added, "Come on, poppet. Let's get you into your pajamas."

She rose from the chair with her three year old, who instinctively wrapped her arms and legs around her mummy, and walked to the room she would be sharing with her youngest and oldest daughters.

Once in the room, Sybil went about changing Connie with her signature precision. She grabbed Connie's white cotton nightgown and sat on the floor, removing her pale green romper and putting on the nightgown. Yawning herself, Sybil left Connie on the floor with her stuffed rabbit and changed into her own cream and pale blue striped cotton pajamas. She then picked up Connie, who was nodding off, and sat down on the bed with her. The toddler curled into her mother while still clutching her rabbit. Sybil instinctively began to rub her daughter's back while gently swaying. Her daughter sleepily mumbled, "I love you, mummy." Soon Connie was asleep.

Sybil looked at her youngest and thought back to what Kieran told her. Her father and sister had seen Sybbie. She felt a mixture of emotions – sad, angry, happy, anxious, and hurt. She pulled her baby closer and whispered to the now sleeping child, "I promise you, my little one, that I will never, ever throw you out of my life."

At that moment, Sybbie made her presence known. "Mum, are you all right?"

Sybil looked up at her eldest. She blinked and answered, "I'm fine, Sybbie."

However, Sybbie knew something was off and wanted to know what it was. "Are you certain? Uncle Kieran acted oddly at the beach this afternoon. The boy I helped, George, his mother and grandfather acted strangely when they saw me. I feel like there's something that I don't know. Tommy noticed too."

Sybil sighed. "I was hoping to wait until your father gets home next week to discuss this with you, but I see that won't be possible. Come sit. You should be comfortable for this."

Sybbie eyed her mother, slightly afraid at her last sentence. Still, she did as her mother asked, walking around to the other side of the bed. She kicked off her shoes and sat down, scooting close to her mother.

Mother looked at daughter and took a breath. "Part of me was hoping I would never have to tell you this, but fate had other plans. You know that before your father was a journalist he worked as a chauffeur for a family in Yorkshire."

Sybbie nodded but remained silent.

Sybil took a breath. "We always implied that we fell in love while I worked as a nurse at the same house and local hospital during the War." She paused to take another breath. "That wasn't entirely true. We met in 1913 when he began to work for my family. I'm the youngest daughter of the Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham."

Her daughter's eyes widened in disbelief and her jaw dropped open in shock.

Sybil chuckled. "I know. It's a bit of shock. I was Lady Sybil Crawley before…"

Her eldest parroted, "Before what?"

"Before I decided to follow my heart. Though I am still a 'lady'." She paused as Connie moved in her sleep, afraid she was about to wake. Once she was settled again, Sybil continued her story.

"Your father and I became friends very quickly. We had similar ideas and beliefs, though my upbringing did breed a fair amount of ignorance about how the world worked. I don't know when it happened, but we fell in love. Neither of us did anything about it because we came from such different backgrounds, but your father managed to find the courage to propose to me when he drove me to VAD training."

"And you said yes and rode off into the sunset with him."

Sybil shook his head. "I wish, but no. I told him I was flattered by his proposal, which wasn't a yes or a no, but it also wasn't something I would say. Of course your father saw through that and offered to leave. I told him not to leave. He didn't thankfully. He waited over two years for my heart and my mind to come to an agreement. The War was over, the officers had left, and it was time to move forward. I realized one night that a life without your father was my worst nightmare." She turned her head to look at her daughter and continued. "I snuck out of the house, went to the garage, and accepted his proposal. It was one of the happiest days of my life."

Sybbie pulled her legs up, resting her head on her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs. "What happened after that?"

"Well, the short story is we had a failed elopement and waited for nearly three months after that for your father to find a new job, which he finally did." She beamed as she remembered. "We told my family that night. My father was furious. He gave me an ultimatum: your father or my family. I chose your father and I've never regretted it."

"Really?"

"Not once. I might have lost my family, but I gained one in the Bransons. Gran Kate was a bit wary of me, but as soon as she found out that my own family disowned me, she became fiercely protective of me. And your uncle proudly took on the role of big brother."

A look of understanding crossed Sybbie's face. "Is that why he acted the way he did on the beach? He realized who those two people were and wanted to protect me."

Sybil nodded. "Yes. The two people were my father and my older sister." She looked down for a moment. "My older sister and I did not part well. She's very much like our father. She believes in the privilege of the aristocracy. That you need a lot of money to live well and be happy."

Sybbie wrapped her arms around her mother. Speaking into her shoulder, her voice muffled, she said, "You're very brave, mum. I don't know if I could ever do what you did."

"You'll never have to." There was a strength and toughness to her mother's voice which caused Sybbie to pull away from her mother. "I promise you that you will never have to choose between us and the man you fall in love with. Your father and I will always support you and be there for you."

Her daughter blinked back tears at the fierceness and love infused in Sybil's words. "Thank you, mum."

Sybil gave her daughter a small smile. "There's no need to thank me. You're my daughter. I love you unconditionally."

"Thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome." Sybil sighed. "Let's talk about something else. Your father sent a telegram several days ago. He's on his way back from Egypt and should hopefully be home by Tuesday."

With that, mother and daughter talked for the next half hour, neither mentioning again the family secret, though neither forgot about it too.