Therapy

Mark Goward was in the process of getting dressed the next morning when Tom Branson showed up with a baby that looked to be nine or ten months old hanging over his arm chewing on his father's keys.

"I've come to warn you. My wife has a bee in her bonnet. She wants you moved to better accommodations. She says you're to be part of the family, so you should be treated as such. When she gets like this there's no stopping her."

"What does Edith say?"

"She's all for it. They're busy talking their mother into everything they want right now. Sybil always gets her own way. The old lady and their Aunt got a hold of me when I had pneumonia. Dressed me up and presented me like a pig on a platter to their friends."

"You make it sound like an ordeal," Mark said with a grimace.

"It can be," Tom said with a slight smile. "It all works out. I have to get going. This is a working trip. I'll come and get you away from them this afternoon when I get back if you're up to it. I'll see you later."

"Bye," Mark said as Tom headed out of the room.

"Who was the Irish git with the baby?" one of the men in the room asked him.

"Lord Grantham's son-in-law and my future brother-in-law." Mark replied with an annoyed look at his comment.

The other man visibly shrunk.

An hour later Edith accompanied by her sister Lady Sybil and Major Clarkson, the hospital surgeon, showed up to talk to Mark. Edith was looking nervous and twisting her hands together, while Sybil was the picture of serenity.

"Let's go through into the library where we can have some privacy," Major Clarkson said.

"What's going on?" Mark asked once they were all assembled.

"As you may know, Lady Sybil is a nurse," Major Clarkson said. "She has requested you be given one of the bedrooms on the second floor. I agree with her that the stairs would be excellent exercise as long as you avoid the main staircase."

"There's a little more you should know," Edith said looking worried. "Sybil's decided to give you her room, so you will have a private washroom. Papa wasn't too pleased, but Mama agreed so he couldn't stop us."

"I can't take your room," Mark said to Sybil.

"Certainly you can. It's not like we're here very often. We can stay in Aunt Rosamund's room. Once we've gotten you upstairs and determined which staircase would be best for you, we'll start on your new therapy routine. I've spoken with your therapist and determined a new course of action. I'll take care of it for the next three days while I'm here and instruct Edith on some basic techniques. Then you will receive private therapy sessions as well as the group sessions with the other patients," Sybil said in her smooth aristocratic tones. She was sitting on a chair with her hands folded as if she were conducting a tea party instead of orchestrating his recovery. "Major Clarkson has already approved my suggestions."

"Do I get any say in all of this," Mark asked.

"You have the choice of a long, slow, painful recovery or following Lady Sybil's suggestions which should speed up the process considerably," Major Clarkson said.

Mark was beginning to see why Tom Branson had come to warn him this morning.

Mark was left alone with Edith while Sybil went to find some of the household staff to move his things to her and Tom's bedroom.

"I hope you aren't too upset with me," Edith said.

"Why should I be?"

"We've made a lot of decisions without your consent. Well, Sybil did," Edith rolled her eyes slightly.

"Should I be concerned?" Mark asked Edith. He was somewhat amused by the entire thing. He put a hand under Edith's chin and turned her face to look at him.

"Oh no," Edith exclaimed in a rush. "She is a very good nurse. The patients under her care usually do very well."

"I'll have to take your word for it," he said before he gave her a quick kiss. "Now let's go find your sister and get started."

Sybil showed Mark one of the servant's staircases that led to the second floor that was fairly narrow with a handrail on one side.

"You can steady yourself against the wall" Sybil said. "The more times you go up and down the stairs in a day, the stronger you will get. At first it is going to seem like a chore. If you feel dizzy or like you are going to fall when you descend. Turn around and come down backwards."

Mark looked at the narrow staircase with trepidation. He could see up all four stories of stairs. It was an imposing sight.

"You're only going up one story," Edith said. "Try not to look up."

He made it up the first flight of stairs before he had to stop for a breather.

"You're sure about this?" he said to Sybil.

"Positive. Now try the second flight. It's the blue door at the top."

He went through the door and found himself in a corridor with five doors leading off it. They moved down to the second door and went in. It was one of the most effeminate rooms he had ever seen. He felt a little queasy at having to spend his nights in this den of feminine splendor. A huge bed dominated the room. There was a fireplace and sitting area. A door in the room led to what Mark assumed was the adjoining bathroom. Sybil moved to the door and went in. He could hear the sound of water running.

"My room's the next one down," Edith said. "Mary's is the first door. That's why Papa wasn't too pleased."

"If he only knew," Mark said. "I don't think I'm up for any night time rendezvous for some time."

"Oh, I don't know," Edith said blushing. She whispered in his ear. "You were rather up the other day."

Mark colored beet red. Sybil came back in and informed him that he needed to take a hot bath, every evening. Since the convalescents were only allowed two baths per week as the water had to be heated and carried on the lower levels, he would take one this morning before they got started. He wasn't to get in and out of the tub on his own as he might fall and worsen his injuries. She would show Edith how to assist him.

"What! I couldn't possibly! Edith!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sybil informed him. "I've seen thousands of men naked. Now do as your told. The water will loosen the tightened muscles. Some of the issues you are having are because the muscles weren't used while the bones were knitting."

Mark swallowed hard and started to loosen his tie. "What kind of a family am I marrying into?" he thought to himself. Sybil retrieved a towel for him to put around his waist. She and Edith left the room for a few minutes to allow him to undress in private.

They were back in a few minutes and Sybil showed Edith how to support him while he got into the hot water. To his relief Sybil allowed him to leave the towel around his waist while he was in the tub. He had to admit, he could feel some of the muscles in his back and legs loosening while he soaked in the hot water. Sybil held a towel up for him when he went to get out of the water and once it was secured, she had Edith support him while he got out and dried off.

Sybil then had him lie face down on the bed while she demonstrated where to massage the tightened muscles and then had Edith take over and practice until Sybil was satisfied with the result. She applied a liniment that smelled absolutely terrible. Sybil explained that despite the smell it would help to reduce inflammation and speed along his recovery. She then had him roll over and proceeded to repeat the process with his left hip and with his pectoral muscles. The massage Sybil applied made Mark wince more than once when she found a brittle muscle, but by the time she was finished, he had to admit he did feel looser and the pain had lessened considerably.

"I need to go and feed the baby," Sybil said. "I'll write out the routine I'm establishing for you. I'll see you at luncheon."

She left Mark and Edith alone.

"She does know what she's doing," Mark said. "I do feel a great deal better already."

"Sybil used to work with the wounded but she changed to surgical nursing as the hours are steady and she doesn't have to work shifts."

"She kept working after she was married?" Mark asked.

"Actually she started after she was married. Sybil and Tom have their own ideas about most things. They're a lot alike and they're both like Granny although neither of them will admit it," Edith said with a giggle.

Edith was sitting on the side of the bed and Mark was still laying there with only a bath towel for covering. He slid his hand up to Edith's shoulder and pulled her over for a kiss.

"Care to join me?" he asked with a small smile.

"No, you smell terrible," Edith said with a grimace. "That liniment stinks. Get dressed and we'll go for lunch. Then I'll leave you to Sybil. I have to get some work done and into the post this afternoon. Besides I keep expecting the door to burst open and Papa to come through at any moment."

She hopped off the bed and headed for the door. She looked back to see a disappointed look on his face. She went back over to him and kissed him soundly. "Maybe tonight, if you're not too tired," she whispered. Then she turned and left.

He lay back for a few minutes before he began to get dressed. These new arrangements could have their advantages after all.

Edith had collected him not twenty minutes later and stayed with him while he made his way down the stairs. Going down was even more exhausting than going up and he had to resort to going backwards after the first flight. He joined the family in the dining room for luncheon and then Sybil had taken over again and put him through a series of exercises in the therapy area. By the time two o'clock rolled around he was exhausted and in need of a break.

"I expect Tom back in about an hour," Sybil said. You can rest until then. "He'll probably want you to go and mess around with the cars or something. Tomorrow you need to start a walking routine as well, but I think that is enough for today."

Mark felt like he had been run over by a stampede of horses by the time Sybil was finished with him. The woman had a no nonsense attitude that was well hidden beneath her polite veneer and wouldn't take no for an answer. It must have been quite the scene when she faced off with her father over her marriage, he thought.

Mark wanted to go back to his room and flop on the bed, but he wasn't ready to tackle the stairs again quite so soon. He got a pen and paper from one of the men and wrote a letter to his command asking for permission to marry. Until he was back on New Zealand soil he would not released from his commission. When he was finished he put it in the pile of outgoing post and sat in one of the armchairs to read a book. He was dozing over the pages when he felt someone shake his shoulder.

"I see you've met with the force of nature that is my wife," a familiar Irish voice said. "I hope she wasn't too hard on you."

"She certainly doesn't take no for an answer," Mark replied.

"You don't know the half of it. Are you up for a walk to the garage? I've got some ale stashed down there. I want to work on the town car. The new chauffeur hasn't got the timing right. I couldn't get it up anywhere near top speed."

"Right-O," Mark said as he got up to follow Tom, "I haven't had decent ale in months."

"It's just the weak English variety, not the good stuff."

Tom found a crate for Mark to sit on by the wall of the garage while he got out the tools and started fiddling under the hood of the town car.

"This chauffeur is useless," Tom grumbled from under the bonnet.

"Edith told me you used to be the chauffeur," Mark commented.

"I was."

"And you married one of the daughters. That was a courageous move."

"Some might think so, most didn't appreciate it too well. I still don't speak to the staff and they don't speak to me."

"What's Grantham like? You seem to handle him well."

"Protective. He doesn't like the idea of his daughters being taken away from him. He's started to treat me better since I took the job in London. He's still convinced I'm some sort of revolutionary though."

"Are you?"

"No."

"Edith said you taught her to drive."

"I did."

"Was she really that bad?" Mark had almost finished his first bottle of ale and was starting to get a little sleepy sitting in the warm afternoon sun by the garage wall.

"Horrible. Still have the scar to prove it."

Tom came over and pulled up his trouser leg to reveal a two-inch scar across the front of his shin.

"Nailed me with the starter crank the first day."

"Why did you keep at it?"

"She was my fiancée's sister even though she didn't know it. She needed someone on her side. No one paid any attention to her."

"She said you were kind to her."

"I don't know if I was kind or not. I was in a bad spot, engaged to her sister but couldn't tell a soul for almost a year. We didn't tell anyone we were married for almost two months."

"Holy Christ."

"I need to start the car. Can you go push on the accelerator?"

Tom fiddled under the bonnet a bit more until he was satisfied the engine was running better and then signaled Mark to shut it off. He handed Mark another bottle of ale before they went to sit back against the wall of the garage.

"They really don't like you around here?"

"No. Have you seen the current chauffeur anywhere around since we've been out here? Pissed off the second he saw me coming."

"Hardly seems right."

"It's how it is."

"What do you really think of all the titles and the rest of it?"

"I used to think it was a pain in the ass until I realized it has its uses. Old Lady Grantham helped me get my current job. I'm actually working on something that makes a difference instead of beating my head against a brick wall. If she likes you, the rest will follow suit."

"She certainly seems to like you."

"She likes the gossip from London," Tom said with a grin. "She's not so bad once you get to know her."

Tom finished his bottle of ale then looked at Mark with a stern look.

"You going to treat Edith decent?"

"I intend to."

"Good, she deserves someone who treats her well."

"You have a soft spot for her don't you."

"She helped Sybil save my life. I owe her one. We better get back before my wife comes looking for us."

Mark stood up, straightened his tie and put on his jacket. He hadn't had this much ale in some time and the ground was swimming a bit as Tom walked him back to the house in a crooked line. If this was the weak stuff he hated to think what the man considered a decent drink.

By the time they had tea, Mark was done in for the day. Sybil insisted he take another bath and enlisted Edith to help him again. By the time they left he flopped into bed butt naked, too exhausted to put on a pair of pajamas. He didn't know he was going to withstand another three days of the Branson's visit.