A/N: As I said in the author's note in the last chapter, this story is partly inspired by a scene in a novel, which is L.M. Montgomery's Rainbow Valley (Book seven of the Anne of Green Gables series). That scene, which you will see soon, was one I chose for two reasons, first, it's a kind of mischief that I believe a daughter of Sybil's would definitely do and drag people into it as well, and second, because Rainbow Valley takes place in an idealized antebellum rural setting that romanticizes and glorifies childhood before the tragedy of war comes in - which is very much what this story is about, although the Rainbow Valley setting is set before the Great War (the Blythe twins are actually the same age as Sybil!) and this is set before the second. What I tried to do here is to create a childhood existence that is still so innocent and detached from what were deemed by the adults in the 1930s as serious concerns, one of which is obviously the impeding war (which Matthew and Robert were already fretting over in the last chapter), and another of which is among aristocratic circles of course, the persisting issue of social class.
Thank you, thank you again for following the story and don't forget to review!
Discalimer: If DA were mine, Sybil and Matthew would obviously still walk the Yorkshire earth.
chasse, part deux
From her earliest recollections, the vast estate that was Downton Abbey invoked in Saoirse Branson mixed feelings. The old garage in Downton that had seen the blossoming of her parents' love story thrilled her little heart as much as it did her sisters'. Downton was where Mamma and Sybbie were born and Saoirse adored Mamma and Sybbie, and she would always hold the big house in awe for that. The nursery was lined with every costly and extravagant doll, plush animal and tea set Granny could gather for her granddaughters' visits since Mamma and Da would not let her give them as presents to take to the house in London. Saoirse was Mrs. Patmore and Daisy's special pet just as Thomas (somehow, he was never "Barrow" to Sybbie) and Mrs. Hughes formed an unlikely alliance over their devotion to Sybbie and the tenants on the estate had the greatest fondness for Aoife because they saw in her many of the qualities that had made her father the greatest agent Downton had possessed – of course that meant for Saoirse the best nibs and bites between meal times! Of course a visit to Downton meant Granny and Grandpapa, Aunt Mary and Uncle Matthew, George and Meg, Gran Violet and Aunt Isobel, all whom Saoirse loved dearly.
On the other hand, visits to Downton meant sharing the nursery with Aoife (oh, the horror!) when Da's study in London had been converted to Saoirse's bedroom if only to have peaceful nights in the Branson household without the twins at each other's throats. Meals were taken away from the adults when in London, she and Aoife would fight for a place in Da's lap while Poppy, their maid-of-all-work cooked dinner, Sybbie set the table, and Mamma went over their lessons, asking everyone about their day. In London, she saw herself as a big girl, not like Sybbie of course, but definitely not the ignorant, naughty baby everyone in Downton treated her as.
"I find it most inappropriate, Miss Saoirse, for a young lady such as yourself to be prancing about with those boys in the hunt!," Fraulein Schublig, Meg's horrid governess had scolded her after she was detached with great difficulty from her sister and cousin trailing behind Aunt Mary and Uncle Matthew into the hunt. Her name was really Miss Andrews but one day long ago, George had remarked that she remined him of a German sausage and hence, the name Fraulein Schublig had stuck, at least in the giggled confines of the children's private conversations.
"Sybbie is a girl and she's joining the hunt!," Saoirse retorted, determined even as Meg and Aoife had long since given up.
"Miss Sybbie is sixteen years old and it would do her well to meet a young man from a respectable family before she makes her debut. I expect that is the reason why she has been asked to accompany Master George and his friends.
"Why would Sybbie need to meet young men before she makes a debut?," Aoife inquired from the other side of the nursery.
"To find suitors, dear me!," Fraulein Schublig replied, much annoyed at repeating what she believed was a simple fact to three children, "Miss Sybbie will be out soon. It won't hurt to start surveying husbands early, will it?"
"Why would Sybbie need a husband, Miss Andrews?," Aoife resumed.
"All girls need to marry eventually, Miss Aoife."
"Not Sybbie! She's going to be a doctor and that would take years she says! Besides, Cousin Rose is not married and neither is Aunt Edith nor Aunt Rosamund!," Saoirse replied, equally recognizing it as a simple fact.
Fraulein Schublig grunted. All the liberal nonsense children picked-up in London! She would not at all be surprised if Miss Saoirse or Miss Aoife arrived in Downton one day wearing those horrid trousers she heard Miss Sybbie so proudly wore during a trip to Harrods with her grandmother some time ago! Trousers in Harrods, the very idea!
"Lady Rosamund is a widow, not a spinster, Miss Saoirse. Lady Rose is tolerated by the aristocracy as an oddity and as for Lady Edith, well, there are rumors they say, circulating in London that –," Fraulein Schublig stopped herself there, fearing the beginning of a subject not suitable for children. "In the case of Miss Sybbie, I hope for her sake that all this doctor nonsense will be forgotten by the time she makes her debut. An earl's granddaughter, a doctor! Imagine that!"
"Mamma doubts Sybbie will be willing to join the season. Anyway, I think it splendid that there will be a doctor in the family!," Meg said, defending her adored older cousin, "Besides, George has his mind set on studying law just as Papa did. A profession can't be all bad."
Fraulein Schublig's grunt turned into a sigh. Of course the girls were too young to understand, but then again she had always found Lady Sybil odd since she had married the family's chauffeur (a journalist was no better, she always thought) and Mr. Crawley was a solicitor in Manchester before he became heir. Adjustments must simply be made in understanding their children, lest she follow the fate of that nanny long ago that the staff downstairs whispered about.
"Nonetheless, none of you will be joining the hunt, Miss Margaret, but her Ladyship has conceded that you be allowed to play whatever other game you wish as long as you are ready by the afternoon to accompany her to the fair in the village. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to relay instructions for your luncheon to Mrs. Patmore. Should you decide to play outdoors, Miss Saoirse, for heaven's sake, please take care not to get grass stains on your dress!"
"Alright then," Saoirse sighed exaggeratedly, "If they don't want us in our hunting party then we won't."
It wasn't that Saoirse wanted to shoot animals for play. The very thought chilled her to the bone. But the formality of Downton was beginning to weigh on her and she longed for the freedom to run around Regent's Park and be dirty and messy as Poppy would allow her and Aoife to do when she conceded to take them with her to the market, or to stain her skirts with grass as she and Aoife and Sybbie and Mamma and Da would lie against the grass in the small garden behind the house to watch the stars on the rare nights London was not covered in smog. To put it simply, she wanted the freedom to have an adventure and she knew very well that her sister and her cousin wanted the very same thing.
The door shot behind them.
"I've an idea!," the child started once more as soon as the sound of Fraulein Schublig's footsteps waned in the distance, "We will have our own hunting party!"
"Uncle Tom and Papa have already said we could not, Sissy," Meg sighed, wanting very much to do as her cousin wanted but knowing that as the eldest child in the room, she had to draw the line.
"They've already taken all the horses, Silly!," Aoife added, quite pleased to find something to taunt her sister with, "What do you want us to hunt with, Aunt Mary's pigs?"
Saoirse's entire face lit up as it was wont to do when a brilliant, if mischievous, idea illuminated her mind.
"Of course!," she cried, already running down the grand staircase and out the door, not bothering for a coat, Meg and Aoife at her heels, stopping only when she reached the pig pen containing Aunt Mary's pigs. Seeing that the coast was clear, she began to climb the fence, taking care that the mud where the pigs trotted should stain the beautiful plaid of her dress.
"Sissy, what are you doing?," Meg called out behind the fence, Aoife standing primly at her side.
"I told you, we're having our own hunting party, only we won't have to shoot the birdies."
"What are we supposed to do then?"
"We ride Aunt Mary's pigs to the village and back," Saoirse giggled. The plan sounded more and more appealing the more she thought about it, "The fat, cross one is mine."
"That would be racing not hunting, Silly!," Aoife challenged.
Saoirse glared at her twin; how trying she could always be! She was already mounted on the massive porker when she answered, "So? I don't care. It would be fun; it was your idea anyway. And you don't have to come. You can stay here until Fraulein Schublig comes and be your boring, boring self, Princess Know-It-All!"
"Saoirse, I don't think Lady Mary would approve," called a voice.
Jack Bates then emerged from the nearby shed and approached the little girl on piggy-back.
He was nine-years old and quite lanky, his blond hair wind-blown and his skin bronzed from many hours spent outdoors. His parents were Anna, Aunt Mary's lady's maid and Bates, Grandpapa's valet, allowing him to develop a close friendship with Lord Grantham's three youngest granddaughters (despite Mr. Carson's disapproval of the acquaintance, "I know we have all become used to Mr. Branson, Mrs. Hughes, but suppose…," To which Mrs. Hughes would reply, "They are only children, Mr. Carson!" ), one of who was just his age and two who were only four years younger. While visits to Downton have seen Sybbie and George as the inseparable duo, the addition of Johnny into the little girls' circle completed their charmed quartet.
Jack was also one of the very few in Downton outside the family who called Saoirse simply Saoirsie and not "Miss Saoirsie". Even Jack's big, older brother Robbie who was so much bigger and older than Saoirse was so unnervingly deferential! But never Jack – as far as she could remember, he always had an easy familiarity about him and she liked him immensely for that.
"Let me worry about her. Really, Jack, today I give the orders," Saoirse laughed by way of response, "Now, are you joining our hunting party to the village or are you staying here with my boring sister?"
Aoife shot her twin a pointed look that could kill, while nevertheless mounting an equally large pig. As enjoyable as taunting her sister was, it was not worth the bother of being prim and proper with Fraulein Schublig and missing out on the fun. At the very least, come Aunt Mary's scolding, which always came when her beloved pigs were dealt with an indignity, she could very well put all the blame on Saoirse. That would teach her to call her boring!
Jack hesitated before a rather more docile swine, blissfully lying in the mud ignorant of the role it was to play. Lady Mary would be most displeased and Mum would be displeased which would make Dad most displeased enough to give him a scolding and perhaps prevent him from playing with the youngest granddaughters of the house "So that you don't get them into any more scrapes," well until after the youngest Miss Branson had returned to London. Mr. Carson would grumble in the privacy of Mrs. Hughes sitting room (where they believed he did not know the secret listening nook) that as delightful as the child admittedly was, he had to learn his place, recalling incidents of bi-elections and counts and Lady Sybil and Mr. Branson that Johnny could not understand. Then again, Jack was very fond of Saoirse. He was fond of Aoife and Meg as well, and with them he was likewise one of the few who called them by their first names (titles of deference to them would mean nothing to him until much later), but there was something so invigorating about Saoirse's impulsive and free spirit that he felt himself instinctively drawn to her. In a split second, he climbed the lazy pig, knowing after all that he could not deny Saoirse.
"Stop being so prissy, Meg!," Aoife called out to their cousin who stood clean and immaculate beyond the fence, already forgetting how opposed she was to her sister's idea.
"Uncle Tom and Papa have insisted we mustn't join the hunt," Meg answered, still convinced of the responsible role she must play as the eldest.
"But we're not joining the hunt," Saoirse giggled, "We're having our own. And Mamma won't mind this."
Meg hesitated a minute further and climbed a large but docile pig beside Jack. That much was true, Aunt Sybil was never opposed to the idea of the children running wild and dirty for the sake of fun. She often even joined in the fun and dirtiness when she was in their company.
"A hunting we will go!," Saoirse screeched kicking her heels into the sides of the startled pig and with that four dazzled porkers made their way out of the estate and into the village at tip-top speed.
"Aren't those Mr. Branson's twin daughters?," Mrs. Drew asked her husband as they turned the corner from the Grantham Arms.
"Where?"
"There, coming down the alley with Mr. Crawley's youngest and some little boy."
"Heavens, it is! And those are Lady Mary's pigs they are riding! We have to catch them, Margie! Lady Mary is going to have my skin for this. Hopelessly devoted to those pigs, she is. Hurry! Oh, I swear, I've locked the fence!," Mr. Drew replied, very much panicked.
"Perhaps the children have opened it?"
"Miss Saoirse would, she loves a good laugh, they say at the big house. Miss Aoife is too sensible for that and Miss Meg too proper," Mr. Drew's voice was hurried, "Perhaps it's that boy. He's the valet's son, I think. He should be ashamed of himself, getting his Lordship's granddaughters into scrapes!"
But none of the Drews' exchange reached the ears of the hunting party quartet as they made their way past the Christmas fair. All four doubled over in laughter, the "sensible" Aoife and the "proper" Meg included, as people drove out of the way, swinging between shocked at the sight of his Lordship's progeny with the valet's boy racing down the main street atop cross pigs, their beautiful dresses hopelessly covered in mud, and terrified that all three of them, the boy also, have gone absolutely and completely mad.
"Sybbie was right, pretend hunting is much more fun than shooting birds!," Saoirse squealed loudly, practically bouncing on her pig as they gained even more momentum.
"If Aunt Mary gets cross, it's your fault," Aoife shrieked from her own pig, not-so-secretly enjoying the ride.
Saoirse stuck her tongue out at her twin and melted into a puddle of bell-like giggles.
"This is the most fun I've had all winter!," Meg laughed in a most unladylike manner, "The best fun I've had in ages."
"Saoirse, watch out! You're going too fast!," Jack called out from beside Meg, seemingly the only member of the party to preserve an ounce of caution.
Saoirse only laughed and kicked her pig once more, gaining more speed as they turned past Crawley House.
"Hello, Aunt Isobel!," the twins cried in unison as the shocked figure of George and Meg's grandmother emerged from the front door.
"Grandmamma! Hello!," Meg laughed as all four of them came into a sudden and laughing halt, throwing Saoirse off her mount and into a puddle.
She only laughed and laughed when Jack descended from his own mount to help her up.
"Saoirse! Are you alright, my dear?," Aunt Isobel was by her side in a minute.
"It's jolly isn't it, Aunt Isobel?," she continued to laugh and laugh.
"Whatever were you doing?," Aunt Isobel asked, turning to her granddaughter.
"Hunting, Grandmamma," Meg answered, laughing almost as hysterically as her cousin, "It's so much more splendid than Lord Branksome's boring nephew, isn't it?"
"Grandpapa, Da, and Uncle and Matthew won't let us go with Sybbie and Georgie to the hunt!," Aoife tried to explain but her voice was also drowned in a steady flow of giggles.
"What is all this about?," Aunt Isobel asked Jack, seemingly the only member of the crew who retained an ounce of sanity.
Jack paused, deciding to choose his words carefully. He was afraid of the scolding he would get but much more afraid of the scolding his companions would receive at the hands of Fraulein Schublig and Lady Mary. Surely, Mrs. Crawley would not tell her daughter-in-law about this?
"The girls decided to have their own hunt, Mrs. Crawley," he started, "but the pig business is my fault. It was my idea to pretend the pigs were horses so we could run them around the village!"
"Don't steal my idea, Jack!," Saoirse called out indignantly from her puddle.
"The pigs were my idea!," Aoife added, descending from her mount.
"You said the idea would be all mine!," Saoirse accused and with that, all three little girls burst into a fit of cackling laughter.
Without warning, the large, cross pigs that carried the Branson twins, now free of their mistresses, ran, no dashed, past the alley and into a back road before any could react, while the two more docile pigs that carried the youngest Miss Crawley and the youngest Mr. Bates slunk down into the cold earth in lazy resignation.
Their laughs turned into utter silence until the twins' eyes met.
"Uh-oh," both breathed at the same time.
"Mamma will be so angry," Meg stated, otherwise seeming utterly unconcerned.
"It will be all Saoirse's fault."
"I don't care."
And the cousins fell into the earth once more doubling over in their infectious laughter, Aunt Isobel laughing alongside them while Jack watched them already both confused and entranced by the perplexity of womankind at seven.
A/N: I know that Schublig is a kind of German sausage but it sounded so stern and funny that I couldn't resist.