Author's note

As always, thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this story so far, or liked/reblogged it on Tumblr! It means so much to get your feedback. Please do keep telling me what you think, it really inspires me! :)

I am dedicating this update to the lovely angiemagz, who made me the awesome gif for this story that I use on Tumblr and who has been waiting patiently for this chapter for longer than I would have liked. Apologies for the delay in posting this, my friend - I hope you enjoy it! Season 4 put me off my stride a little with some of my regular updates, but I am starting to get back into the swing of things now, so future chapters should not be as long in coming.

Here, Sybil and Tom are sneaking out of Mary and Matthew's engagement party at Downton Abbey for some roleplay in the garage...

Chapter 15 - The Lady and the Chauffeur

Sybil crossed the back courtyard and paused for a moment before she went into the garage. How would my ancestor have been feeling at this moment? Nervous, excited, in love but afraid of what admitting that might mean... Feeling as if she had her "character" in place, she stepped forward and pushed open the door.

She saw Tom inside, leaning against a vintage car, ankles casually crossed. One lamp was lit above his head, casting his face into shadow as he read the paper. He had taken off his chauffeur's jacket and she smiled at the sight of his muscular forearms, visible below the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. He is so clever, he knows just how to get to me!

He heard her come in and looked up and the expression on his handsome face made her gasp aloud. It was her Tom, her beloved Tom, the man she lived with and knew so well, but somehow he looked different – a little apprehensive, but also determined to say what he had to say, and to make her hear it.

"Milady?"

As it had been at the party, his accent was stronger than usual, and his voice had a deeper, rougher edge to it that sent shards of desire crackling along every nerve in her body. Oh Christ, he is so gorgeous, how can I resist him! The thought could have been from that other Lady Sybil, or from herself – she almost didn't know the difference any more.

"Yes, Branson, it's me."

She bounced up and down on her toes and clasped her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers nervously together as she waited for him to speak again.

"Thank you for reading my note, I had hoped you would come but I wasn't sure if you would, milady."

He stood up and took a step towards her. She did the same without even realising it, drawn in by the deep longing in his eyes, and then caught herself and stopped, her first remark harsher than she had intended.

"What could you mean by taking such a reckless step, Branson? How did you dare to leave me such an impudent message..."

He interrupted her, determined to get the words out –

"You want more from life than this, milady, than what your family expects of you – the endless round of tea parties, dress fittings and gossip. None of that means anything to you, I just know it. I've seen you dealing with it and I know it isn't you, although your family doesn't seem to have realised it. That's what gave me the courage to speak out."

She took another step, as if mesmerised. Her eyes were shining, her lips were parted, and her hands were grabbing the sides of her black and gold dress to stop herself reaching out to him.

"I told myself, don't be a fool, she's too far above you, but I just couldn't keep it in any longer. Milady, I have to tell you – I love you, I can't think about anything else but you. And there's something else – I believe you love me, too, although you're too scared to admit it. I've seen the way you look at me sometimes, when we've been talking or when I help you into the car..."

She drew herself up, as her ancestor had done nearly a century before. The expression on her face became haughty, even imperious as her face flushed a deep pink, trying to hide the feelings he had seen in her.

"Branson, stop, you are speaking out of turn, you mustn't say these things. I know we have become friendly in recent times, but to presume that means I love you? You're frightfully full of yourself. I am the daughter of an Earl, I have a place in society, a certain position to maintain. Do you really think I could give all of that up for a chauffeur?"

"Yes, milady, I do. I know it's bold of me to speak out like this, and you'd be within your rights to go to your father and have me dismissed. But I know I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't tell you. And I won't always be a chauffeur."

"I must insist you never speak of this to me again, Branson. I won't tell Papa as long as I have your promise on that."

He moved towards her. His blue eyes were deep pools of longing and all she wanted to do was drown in them.

"Sybil, please – don't push me away. You would tell your family if you didn't care about me, I know you would..."

Hearing her name, spoken so softly by him with such love in his voice, left her reeling. He saw her momentary weakness and came even closer.

"Branson, you must know, this is impossible, we are impossible... why are you smiling like that?"

"Because you spoke about 'we'. If you love me, and I think you do, the rest is detail."

"I can't talk to you about this any more, I have to go, please, Branson, let me go..."

She turned away as if to leave him. But she found she couldn't, because his hand had come out to grasp her waist. His touch burned through the fabric of her dress and reached the skin of her hip. She looked at him and although he knew, in character, that he had crossed a line he "shouldn't" have crossed, he didn't take his hand away. Instead, he looked directly at her, offering her the chance to move away if she wanted to.

The chance was not taken. She stayed close to him, still feeling his hand touching her, her eyes drawn inexorably to his lips – So warm, so firm... what would it feel like, to have those lips on my skin? Her gaze moved upwards, to meet his again… and the passionate flame in his eyes drew her in so she could not escape, even if she wanted to.

Time seemed to stand still as he leaned down to her. She rose up on tiptoe and felt his hand touch her cheek, and that first touch of skin on skin was electric. When their lips finally met, her hands came up to wrap themselves around his neck, pulling herself as close as she could to him as his arm moved around her waist to her back, bringing her body into his. They kissed for what felt like the first time to both of them, a kiss that was something out of this world, a kiss that changed them forever. From that moment, they were one, unbreakable.

He lifted his lips from hers for a moment and a warm smile broke out across his face as their eyes met and held. His hand was still resting on her cheek and he stroked her face, gently brushing back a stray curl as he stared at her. She felt a rush of blood to her head and pulled him back down to her without speaking, wanting to feel that intense connection with him again.

This time, he deepened their kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth. A groan escaped his lips as his arms tightened around her, and her eager response to his kiss meant they were both breathless when they moved apart.

For the first time since she had entered the garage, she said his name –

"Tom, oh Tom, you were right, I do love you, I can't deny it..."

"I've waited so long to hear those words, Sybil, I can't believe I'm hearing them..."

He picked her up and lifted her onto the bonnet of the car, so she sat up higher than him, then moved closer to her. Her dress rode up as she pushed her legs apart, letting him step between them, welcoming him into her arms.

This time it was Sybil who found Tom's tongue with hers when their lips met. Her hands ran through his hair as they kissed, messing up his fringe as she had been longing to do all evening, playing with the short strands on the back of his neck.

After a while, his mouth moved to her throat, sucking at the pulse point on her neck, trailing a line of kisses along her exposed collarbone. He had kissed her hundreds of times before, on every part of her body, but somehow in this moment these felt like the most intimate kisses he had ever given her, because as 'lady and chauffeur' they were taboo, and she knew she wanted more, much more.

She hitched her dress up to her waist and his eyes opened wide when he saw she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. His hand found her core and their eyes locked as he stroked her soft, velvety folds, already swollen and wet with longing. Seeing her reaction to his touch made his arousal rise even faster.

Sliding his fingers inside her, he found her clit with his thumb and began to tease it. He kept watching her face – her eyes were closing and she was biting her lip, trying to stay in control as he caressed her – and he knew that he had never seen anything so lovely. "Sybil, you are so beautiful, I want you so much," he murmured, fumbling for his trouser buttons to release his cock, which was already hard against her thigh.

"Oh Tom, please, I need to feel you inside me..." The invitation came from her, as she knew it should in character, and to emphasise her words she slid down the bonnet of the car towards him a little.

He pushed inside her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. This time, she could not hold in the moan that escaped her lips as he began to move, using one hand to hold her up, grasping her firm arse, while the other continued to play with her clit. Her arms were around his neck, holding him close to her as her head fell back to enjoy the feeling of his mouth ravaging her, kissing, sucking and nipping her throat and shoulders as he thrust into her, harder each time.

"Ahhhhhh, oh God, Tom, please… don't stop."

She wasn't sure if it was the roleplay Sybil or herself who spoke in that moment – both spoke with one voice, desperate for him, for his touch.

He knew her body so well and he could tell it would not take much more to push her into oblivion. He let go of her arse for a moment and cupped the back of her head, sliding his fingers into her elaborate hairstyle as he lifted her face towards his. He kissed her deeply, tongues sliding together, her arms tightening still further around his neck. He pushed her harder back against the car to hold her steady, increasing his pace and keeping his lips on hers, wanting to be kissing her when she came.

"TOOOMMMMM!"

She screamed silently into his mouth, bucking her hips against him as her orgasm overwhelmed her. His hand moved back down to her arse, holding her body up again as her head fell backwards onto the bonnet of the car. Helpless now, utterly lost in sensation, she moaned again, an animal sound ripped from her body. His fingers stayed on her clit, feeling her contract again and again around him, driving him over the edge as well.

"Ah, feck, Sybil, holy feck!"

He fell forward on top of her, their hearts racing in time with each other. They stayed joined for a few more moments, loving the closeness of their connection, before he stood up and stepped back slightly, lifting her down and resting her back against the car.

His arms came around her again and they kissed, one minute turning to several as they clung to each other, lips parting and meeting over and over, never wanting to let go of this moment. Eventually, Sybil sighed, looking up at Tom and putting her fingers to his cheek, speaking as herself again –

"Tom, I love you so much. It scares me sometimes to think how much I need you."

"Why would that scare you, darling? I'm not going anywhere, ever, I promise." He leaned into her touch.

"I don't know – maybe it's just that, loving so you deeply, I know I am putting my heart at risk, more than I ever did before."

"A stór – I adore you, you're my world, you know that. There is no way I would ever, could ever... do anything to risk losing us, to risk losing this love."

He felt suddenly afraid, as if by saying these things out loud, he might be calling down the vengeance of the gods by being too happy, too much in love. As if to fight off those feelings, he bent down to kiss her, his lips lingering and trailling down to her throat.

As he felt her hands in his hair, he heard the door rattle. "Sybil, are you in here? Mama was asking ... oh, sorry!"

Mary smiled as the lovers pulled their clothes back into some sort of order. At least she didn't come in ten minutes ago! was the first thought to come to Tom's mind. He took Sybil's offered hand, grabbing his jacket and following her back out of the garage.

"The party's just wrapping up, all the guests are gone. Mama wanted us all to have one last dance together, just the family, before we go to bed, so she sent me to find you. I might have known what you two would be up to, off in a dark corner somewhere!"

As they stepped back in through the front door, Sybil glanced at Tom, and in her glance was a promise – We'll be picking this up later on tonight! Then, she took his arm and smiled brightly as they walked back into the party, sweeping him a low curtsey before moving into his arms for a final waltz.

As they started to dance, she pulled him in for a kiss, knowing that her entire family was watching and wanting to show them all how important he was to her. He smiled at her and rested his arm at her waist, pulling her closer as they spun around the room, their other hands clasped and resting on his heart as they followed the slightly melancholy music around the dance floor. Although he was longing to get her back upstairs to their room and continue where they had just left off, he savoured this moment of loving intimacy with her, letting her head rest on his shoulder and tightening his arm protectively around her as they danced.

A/N -

"a stór" = my darling in Irish Gaelic, per Google translate.

Music cue for their last waltz – "Songe d'Autonne (Dream of Autumn)" by Archibald Joyce, the song rumoured to be playing on the Titanic just before it sank - check it out on youtube.