AUTHOR'S NOTE: I managed to write this chapter a bit sooner, mostly by splitting it into two parts. The next one should be ready at some point next week.
Happy Christmas and Hannukah to everyone who celebrates it!
Eryholme, May 1914
Mary was reading in the garden when Molesley came to fetch her.
"Lady Grantham is on the phone, milady," he said, a little out of breath after running the whole way from the house.
"Thank you, Molesley. I will take it in Mr Crawley's study."
She walked briskly, but without any special hurry. She hardly expected Mama to have anything more important to say than to plan for Sybil's oncoming season or share some gossip.
As it turned out, she couldn't have been more wrong.
"Mary, is Sybil with you?" asked Cora in a voice Mary barely recognised. She had never heard her mother so frantic.
"No, why would she?" she asked, instantly worried herself. "Mama, is Sybil missing?"
To her horror, Cora started sobbing.
"Oh, Mary, it's horrible! She sneaked to the vote count yesterday - she made Branson take her there and she got injured! You cannot imagine what I felt when I saw her head covered in blood! She said it was all her idea and Branson didn't know what she was planning but your father didn't believe her and dismissed him on the spot. She did threaten to run away if he did it, but we didn't think she was serious! Only she didn't come to breakfast this morning and at first we all thought she was just sulking, but then I went to her room and found it empty except the letter in which she says that either we rehire Branson and apologise to him or she won't come back!"
"Well, she couldn't have gone far," said Mary, desperately trying to remain calm. "Where is Branson? Could she be with him?"
"Branson is still here and swears he has no idea where she could have gone. To be fair, he seems just as frantic about her being missing as the rest of us."
"Where have you checked?"
"I called your grandmother, Isobel and Rosamund, but they all claim she hasn't contacted them. I am going to call Edith next."
"Please let me know if you have any news," pleaded Mary and after receiving reassurance regarding it, hung up to allow Cora to continue making calls.
Her head was reeling. She was awfully worried about Sybil and furious with herself. She should have been there, she should have tried to diffuse the situation between Papa and Sybil, to protect Tom's job, but she forgot. Somehow, inexcusably, she forgot all about by-election and its importance. Mary barely restrained a groan. How could she have forgotten? She remembered vividly her fear for Sybil when Branson had told her she had been injured; the stabbing, sudden jealousy when she had noticed looks exchanged by Matthew and Sybil; and of course the events in the dining room afterwards had ended up etched in her brain forever – but the exact date somehow escaped her mind. She noted dryly that nearly a decade that had passed since then for her might justify her forgetfulness, but however natural it might have been to forget in those circumstances, the end result was that Tom lost his job and Sybil was God knew where.
She forced herself to slow her breathing and think rationally. Panicking was not going to do any good and she had a feeling that between Mama and Papa there was plenty of that going around anyway.
Where could Sybil go? She was eighteen and barely knew or saw anybody besides family and friends at Downton Abbey. She had some money, but not much. She was still such a child, as this stunt clearly showed, and she was doing it to prove a point and help Tom – she must have intended to either come back or at least get in contact soon. So the most important thing to do was to ascertain that she chose some safe place to hide in the meantime. With Sybil found, Mary could start worrying how to save Tom's job from that whole debacle.
So where could Sybil go? Mama already checked with the relatives and they all denied knowing anything. She didn't get back with Edith's answer yet, but Mary did not think Sybil would have gone to Loxley; not with Sir Anthony there – she would probably rightly assume that he would have notified Papa immediately. Neither Granny nor Aunt Rosamund would have covered for her, not when the whole thing was about her friendship with the chauffeur. Isobel was more of a wild card, but Mary thought that she wouldn't have acted by hiding a runaway teenage girl – she was much more likely to march her straight to the Abbey and stand by her loudly demanding giving Tom his job back. And since Sybil contacted neither her nor Matthew either, that left only her friends...
Or the servants. Tom denied any involvement and was quite frantic, according to Mama, but Tom was hardly Sybil's only friend among the staff. And a member of the staff was far more likely to be sympathetic enough to Tom's unfair dismissal to help Sybil in her mad scheme to reverse it.
With renewed resolve Mary reached for the phone.
Boarding house, Darlington, May 1914
Meanwhile, Sybil was perfectly alright, just supremely bored.
She was laying on Gwen's narrow bed, in the boarding house in Darlington and wishing she packed a book when she sneaked out of the Abbey. Gwen had to go to the office, but she told her landlady that her "cousin" will be staying to rest after her journey.
She promised to be back at five and to keep Sybil's whereabouts secret from Matthew although the perspective of doing that made her miserably unhappy.
"I cannot deceive my employer!" she implored Sybil. "Not when he gave me a chance when no one else had and has been so good to me ever since!"
"You don't have to deceive him," said Sybil. "Just don't mention me at all."
"But what if he asks if I know anything? He knows that you fought to get me a job, he might guess you could have contacted me."
Sybil frowned.
"Gwen, do you want Branson to be dismissed without reference when he is perfectly innocent of any wrongdoing, and it has all been my fault?"
Gwen shook her head, biting her lip.
"Then you must keep quiet or lie. It's only for a few days, so they all will believe I am serious about it. I will explain everything to Matthew later, I cannot believe he will blame you then."
Gwen nodded with visible reluctance but didn't quarrel harder.
By afternoon, Sybil developed some doubts.
She still thought it was absolutely outrageous for Papa to sack Branson after he not only was perfectly innocent, but also got himself beaten up saving Sybil from the scuffle. She was convinced she was right to fight against such injustice. But she did start to fill a bit guilty when she imagined how frantic everybody must be by now.
She crossed her arms in determination though. She decided she needed to keep them all in suspense for at least one night.
Otherwise, they might think she was not treating it seriously.
Swire, Weatherby and Crawley, Darlington Branch, Darlington, May 1914
Gwen picked up the phone and immediately blanched at the sound of Lady Mary's voice in response to her greeting.
"Miss Dawson, could you please put me through to Mr Crawley?"
"Of course, m'lady," stammered Gwen, getting up in such haste that she threw down her pencil case. The clerk, Mr Harper, looked at her with raised eyebrows, but she barely paid him any attention as she hurried to Mr Crawley's office.
He looked up at her when she knocked lightly on his open door to announce her presence.
"What is it, Miss Dawson?" he asked pleasantly and Gwen's stomach churned again with guilt at the secret she was hiding from him.
"Lady Mary is on the phone, sir."
She saw how he immediately smiled at the prospect of talking with his wife. Lady Sybil was right; it was so obvious to anyone with eyes that Mr Crawley was completely and utterly besotted with her. Lady Mary was a very lucky woman.
"I will take it here then," he said, reaching for the phone on his desk.
Gwen went back to the front room, avoiding Mr Harper's curious eyes, and tried to busy herself with transcribing her shorthand notes from Mr Crawley's last meeting with a potential client. She was patently unsuccessful though. It might have been a coincidence that Lady Mary called today, even though she rarely disturbed her husband while he was at work, but Gwen did not believe so. News of Lady Sybil's disappearance must have made rounds by now.
Sure enough, in just a few minutes Mr Crawley summoned her to his office, looking very grave.
"Miss Dawson," he said, looking at her intently. "Have you been in contact with Lady Sybil recently?"
Gwen swallowed. Her conflicting loyalties were pulling her apart. She wouldn't be where she was now, making something of herself, without either of those two people. She decided to be as honest as possible, without breaking her promise to Lady Sybil.
"Yes, sir," she said. "She is kind enough to write to me and asks how I am doing. I've had a letter from her just this past week."
"Anything more recent?" asked Mr Crawley, his stare at her getting even more probing. "Like yesterday or today, even?"
"No letters, sir," stammered Gwen. "I barely answered her last."
Mr Crawley sighed, his eyes not leaving hers.
"Miss Dawson, I have just received very distressing news. It seems that Lady Sybil is missing after a quarrel with her parents. We are all extremely anxious for her and her safety. I know that she considers herself your friend. If she contacts you in any way – or if you have a way to contact her – could you please either tell me or at the very least beg her to do so herself?"
"I will, sir," said Gwen thickly, biting her lip. "I promise."
Her heart clenched for him when he massaged his forehead in an anxious gesture. She admired Lady Sybil's determination to save Mr Branson from being punished for her mistakes, but she thought she was choosing a really brutal way to do it. She could not resist blurting out.
"I think I might have a chance to speak with her, sir."
He immediately looked at her.
"Today?" he asked only.
Gwen nodded.
"But you won't tell me how?"
She shook her head with a tortured expression, fully aware that he could dismiss her on the spot for such insolence.
Mr Crawley sighed.
"She has sworn you to secrecy, hasn't she?" he asked dryly, then added in a kind tone. "You don't have to fear being punished for loyalty to your friend, Miss Dawson. But please, do make her either come home or at least contact the family. And just tell me that – is she safe, wherever she is?"
Gwen nodded, fighting tears.
"She is, sir. And I promise, I will do everything I can to make her see reason. She is just so sorry and angry to have gotten Mr Branson in trouble."
Mr Crawley smiled at her with that brilliant, kind smile which became him so much.
"Thank you, Miss Dawson," he said feelingly.
Drawing room, Eryholme, May 1914
Mary was not at all happy with Matthew's report, even if it did ease her worry a bit.
"Why didn't you make her tell you where Sybil is? Or better yet, take you to her?" she asked furiously.
"Because Sybil has already put Gwen in a very unfair situation," answered Matthew firmly. "She assured me that Sybil is safe and that she will try to make her either come home or contact the family, and I believe her. If she fails, I will ask her to deliver a message to Sybil, and of course if it goes on much longer, we will have to get the information out of her, but I didn't want to force her to betray her friend's trust until it was necessary."
"And Sybil being God knows where is not necessary enough?" asked Mary incredulously.
Matthew sighed.
"To be honest, I am nearly certain she is just in Gwen's room at her boarding house. Which is a perfectly respectable place, I found it for her myself, since she didn't know the city and didn't have anyone else to do it for her. Sybil probably doesn't have enough money for a hotel and I doubt she would have risked such a public space anyway, and I cannot think of any other place she could choose without involving any of us. And besides that, Gwen promised to speak with her tonight, so she must be somewhere close."
Mary stared at him for a moment, then threw her hands up and sat on the sofa with a huff.
"Very well," she said frostily. "We will do it your way. But if Sybil doesn't get in contact by tomorrow or send a message through Gwen, you will give me Gwen's address and I will drive there myself."
Matthew nodded, accepting her conditions.
Eryholme, May 1914
They were getting ready for bed, when the loud sound of the doorbell, pushed incessantly by someone clearly impatient to be let in, reverberated through the house. Matthew and Mary looked at each other in shock, then promptly put their robes back on and went to investigate. They arrived to the entrance hall just as gobsmacked Molesley opened the door to let in a very determined looking Sybil.
"Sybil, how on Earth did you get here at this hour?" exclaimed Mary, weak with relief at seeing her sister safe and unharmed.
"As you know, I ran away from home," announced Sybil imperiously. "I took the milk train to Darlington and stayed with... friends. But I realised you must be quite worried by now, and I needed to know if Papa was going to be reasonable about Branson, so I got a cab from Darlington to bring me here."
"But why would you do that? I know Papa can be unreasonable when he's angry, but surely we could have solved it without you getting us all out of our minds with worry for you!" asked Mary, feeling a headache coming on.
"Because Papa sacked Branson without listening to me!" exclaimed Sybil indignantly. "And it wasn't his fault! I told him I was going to a committee meeting; he had no idea I was going to attend the count!"
"Sybil," said Matthew with the firm calmness he was so often adopting in a crisis. "Come to the drawing room and explain everything from the beginning. I don't know about Mary, but I am definitely feeling like I'm missing half of the story."
Sybil relented and marched to the drawing room, with Matthew and Mary following her after exchanging equally exasperated looks.
The full story of Sybil's misadventures at the count resembled the sequence of events in Mary's memory in every particular, except for the fact that, in Matthew's absence, Tom apparently suffered a blow to his face, and had to drag Sybil out of the scuffle alone. He still made the decision to bring Sybil to the Crawley House, where he fetched Cora, who unfortunately turned out to be less persuasive than Mary had in calming Robert down.
"So what do you plan to do now?" asked Mary, her own mind whirling in search of a solution.
Sybil shrugged angrily.
"I came here because I did not want to worry you, and I realised it was unfair on... my friend, to force her to cover for me."
"But you expect that we will?" asked Mary incredulously. "Sybil, Mama and Papa are frantic! As are Granny, Isobel and I assume Edith. Even Branson is terrified for you! We have to tell them that you're here. And you may say you were with Gwen, we guessed that anyway."
"I won't go back until Papa gives Branson his job back," Sybil crossed her arms with a mulish expression. "I understand that he is angry with me – I lied to him and sneaked out without permission, so he has perfect right to punish me. But Branson didn't do anything wrong and actually saved me from the crowd when it got rough. If you try to force me to go home without Papa agreeing to my conditions, I will just run away again and this time further than to Darlington."
Mary rolled her eyes.
"Where?" she asked scathingly. "And with what money? Do you even have any left, after paying for the cab?"
Matthew intervened before Sybil was able to answer.
"Sybil," he said calmly, raising his hand in a pacifying gesture. "We must tell Robert and Cora that you're here and safe. It is too late to get you home now, so you will stay here, and in the morning we will all go to Downton and try to negotiate the matter with your parents. You're right that Branson does not deserve this dismissal, but please understand how it must look from your Papa's point of view. He lost his trust in his servant, and it might very well be that he won't agree to keep him on. Maybe we should just ensure that he will give him a good reference?"
Both Crawley sisters stared at him with identically aghast expressions. To his surprise, it was Mary who protested first.
"No!" she exclaimed vehemently. "As much as I disagree with Sybil's childish approach to the problem, she is right about Branson not being a part of her schemes. He was just doing his job when he took her to Ripon and tried to talk her into leaving as soon as he realised her true purpose. What was he supposed to do? Carry her to the car on his own back, with her kicking and screaming?"
Sybil looked torn between being offended and grateful for support.
"I won't accept anything else but withdrawal of Branson's dismissal," she said, crossing her arms to emphasise her point.
Matthew sighed and got up.
"I'm going to call Robert," he said. "I will ask him to make sure Branson is there tomorrow for the meeting. Then let's go to sleep, I have a feeling we will all need our full strength for it."
Library, Downton Abbey, May 1914
The family council in the library was one of the tensest Mary could remember from either of her realities.
Her parents were waiting for them and as soon as the Eryholme party got in, Mama jumped from the sofa with a sob and run to embrace Sybil.
"Never do something like this to me again!" she exclaimed tearfully. "But thank God you're alright!"
Sybil looked genuinely apologetic for causing her mother distress, but her expression soon hardened when her father spoke up.
"Matthew, Mary, thank you for bringing my wayward daughter home," he said grimly, glaring at Sybil with the rage only fuelled by genuine fear he had felt for her for the day she had been missing. "I hope you are done with that childish rebellion and blackmail!"
"If I was childish, it was only because you didn't listen to rational arguments!" quarrelled Sybil immediately. "Are you ready to accept Branson back?"
"Not on your life!" yelled Robert. "Accept that wannabe revolutionary? I was amused by his political inclinations when he was borrowing books from my library, but definitely not when he was radicalising my own daughter!"
"He was doing nothing of the kind! And if you don't give him his job back, I will just run away again!"
Cora looked in alarm both at her obstinate youngest child and the shade Robert's face was becoming.
"Darling, I'm sure we can talk about it more calmly after you had some rest," she implored. "You've just been injured two days ago, why don't you lie down and I will talk with your father?"
"I am not at all tired, Mama. I need to know if Papa can be reasonable."
"Reasonable?! I am reasonable! I wish to God I was so reasonable when we hired that scoundrel!"
"It seems to me we are at an impasse," said Mary looking at Sybil and Papa firmly. "You are sure you will not change your mind about keeping Branson, Papa?"
"Absolutely not!" snarled Robert, getting alarmingly red again. "Maybe Sybil is telling the truth about this particular escapade – maybe he really didn't know what she was planning – but she never had such ideas before he came and started corrupting her with all this socialist nonsense!"
"I was political before he came!" yelled Sybil, deeply offended. "I was already interested in vote for women! I just liked talking with him about those issues, but I took interest in them myself! Nobody needed to corrupt me!"
"And this is exactly why he cannot stay here!" bellowed Robert in response. "It is most improper of him to discuss such matters with you!"
Mary got between them before they could escalate it even further.
"Then I will hire him," she said, succeeding in making the combatants calm down and stare at her in shared shock at her sudden proclamation. "I hardly think I am in any danger to be corrupted by Branson's politics. You can take over Peters instead, Papa. He is an excellent driver and mechanic, but I seriously doubt he reads anything besides sport pages in the papers."
Silence rung in the library for a long moment.
Robert was first to shake off his stupor enough to address Matthew.
"And you would agree to it?" he asked incredulously.
Mary pulled herself up in indignation at the question and the assumptions behind it, but Matthew grasped her hand and squeezed it comfortingly before he answered.
"I don't see any reason not to," he said firmly. "I know Branson is a competent chauffeur and I never witnessed anything truly improper in his manner. And I think Mary's idea offers a good compromise between Sybil's insistence he is not punished for her misdeeds and your concern about his potential influence on your daughter which you don't approve of."
"Then I guess we must ask Branson and Peters whether they agree, but if they do, I am more than willing to settle that unpleasant matter for good," announced Robert. "If you discover that half of your servants decided to join the Bolsheviks as the result, that's your funeral."
"You're not worried about Branson corrupting Mary?" asked Sybil pointedly, clearly still incensed.
Mary sent Sybil a withering look. Couldn't she see they were winning?!
Thankfully, Robert really seemed fed up with the whole matter.
"Mary is a grown woman, with her own husband and household. What she decides to do with her staff is not my business, whatever I think of it. You are a girl not yet out and under my protection and have proved yourself much more susceptible to dangerous influences. Branson is not staying here and that's final, but I am willing to hire Peters instead and make it possible for Mary and Matthew to offer Branson a job. As long as we will finish that insufferable row!"
Eryholme, May 1914
Mary's mind was in quite the turmoil as she was giving Tom the tour of Eryholme.
As she expected, Peters jumped at the chance to be in direct employment of the Earl of Grantham. She was much more apprehensive about Tom's reaction to her proposal – what would she do if he didn't accept? If he felt insulted enough that he would leave Downton forever and she would lose him out of her life for good? Thankfully though he agreed after learning it was her idea, and came to Eryholme just three days later.
"This is your cottage," she said calmly, leading him into the corner one of little row of brick houses at the edge of the yard shared with stables and garages, each with their own little garden in the back. "As you can see, there is kitchen, sitting room and two small bedrooms upstairs. Mr Crawley got the water connected to the kitchen sink and the electricity from the house generator, but I am afraid there is no bathroom yet. We may have it done next year, but for now it's the outhouse in the back and either using a basin for washing or the servants' bathroom at the house."
"I don't mind," said Tom evenly, but looking at her in a manner which slightly unnerved Mary for some reason. "It looks perfectly comfortable."
"I'm glad," answered Mary, "You may cook your own meals here, or join the others in the servant hall. We are small enough household that Mrs Gruntler, our cook, does not mind outside staff at meals."
Tom nodded.
"It will be nice not to have to worry about cooking and to have some company," he said lightly.
They went outside, walking through the yard into the lush gardens behind the house.
"When you're not on duty and we are not formally entertaining, you are of course allowed to use the garden," said Mary. "It really is quite pleasant in the spring and summer."
"It is truly beautiful. I bet George will love to play here."
Mary froze, then turned to stare at him wildly. She could hardly believe what her brain was telling her in response to his remark.
It could not be... It was simply impossible!
And yet, seeing fond, understanding, familiar smile on Tom's face and tears in his own eyes, she could not restrain the wild, desperate hope growing in her chest.
"Tom," she said shakily, barely able to speak. "What is your daughter's name?"
A tear rolled down his cheek, but his smile grew wide and brilliant.
"Sybbie," he whispered hoarsely. "She is called Sybbie and she is the most darling girl in the world, as beautiful as her mother."
Mary gave barely any thought to the need for caution or ensuring they were truly alone. She just flung herself into Tom's arms, clinging to him desperately.