Thomas Barrow had joined the staff of Downton Abbey in 1910 as a fourteen year old hall boy who refused any kindness or to speak of his past. Secretive, spiteful, bitter, he hadn't understood the rest of the staff's fascination with the family. Sure, they paid them, but they weren't royalty. Not that he was sure even royalty deserved the respect Carson gave the Crawleys.
Thomas quickly learned that you should take care not to talk poorly about certain family members around certain staff. O'Brien would give a good tongue lashing to anyone who dared disrespect her ladyship. Mr. Watson, his lordship's valet, would box Thomas's ears if he heard him mention the Earl in a poor light. Most staff would get in a snit if Lady Sybil was disrespected, and your tea would be flavored with salt instead of sugar by an irate, more irate than normal, Ms. Patmore. And then there was Lady Mary.
Lady Mary was a right bint. Carson would have him shipped off in a moment if he even suspected Thomas had such thoughts, but it was true. With her arrogant disregard and snapping wit, she reminded him too much of himself. He wondered how anyone, particularly Mr. Carson, could like her so much and consider her to be their "favorite" when the same traits were seen as such a problem in him. The perks of being an aristocrat, he supposed.
In the beginning, if he had been forced to choose a favorite of the family, he would have picked Lady Sybil. She was kind at least, and it was fun to watch her rebellious streak take over at times. But then he learned more about Lady Edith.
No one had complained when he had bad mouthed Lady Edith in the beginning. Calling her nose unfortunate or her personality drab and bookish was just met with sad nods and muttering agreements. At most, many of the staff would half heartedly chide him that "it's hardly the lady's fault for her features, Thomas" or "we shouldn't speak about it. It's hard enough for the poor dear with Lady Mary and Lady Sybil always there."
The only reason he stopped was because the one person to defend Lady Edith was the one he respected most. Ms. Hughes would get a pinched, deeply troubled look on her face whenever the young lady was mentioned unfavorably. She was the first to state that Lady Edith had a number of good qualities that most refused to see. Thomas would just scoff, one of the many who refused to see, until he was forced to.
He had broken the clock. Stupid Thomas. He should have listened when he was told to leave it to the first footman. He shouldn't have been so arrogant. He thought, just because his father was a clockmaker, that he could do this? His father was right. Right to not let him touch the clocks. Right to not let him touch anything. Right to throw him out. Stupid, useless Thomas. They were going to throw him out.
"Hey, it's alright," a calm voice startled him, sending him spinning and ramming his back into the silent clock. The red-haired young lady cringed at the sharp sound of collision before looking down at him. Down because she was still a touch taller than the younger boy. "Did you break it?"
"No!" He snapped before realizing he probably shouldn't yell at his employer's daughter. "I mean, no m'lady."
"It's alright if you did," Lady Edith said nonchalantly, taking off her white gloves. "Things like this happen all the time. Now let's have a look."
Thomas wanted to incredulously ask if the lady had any idea what she was doing. Instead, he just watched Lady Edith gaze into the mechanical bowels of the hood of the clock with a look of concentration on her face. She seemed to be tinkering with something inside and making little humming sounds of discovery. "Yes, I see. The escapement gear is out of alignment for one thing. But that can't be all. What else is wrong?"
"Do- do you have experience with clocks, m'lady?"
"Not in the slightest," Lady Edith said. "But I read a book about it. Ah!"
"What?!" Please don't let this daft aristocrat have gotten her finger lopped off by their own clock.
"I found the problem. The setting mechanism is broken. No way to fix this, I'm afraid. It will need to be replaced before it's operational again." Thomas felt his face grow pale. They were going to throw him out.
"Thomas," Carson's voice snapped. "Where- ah, good evening, my lady."
"Good evening, Carson," Lady Edith nodded. "I'm afraid I have caused a bit of trouble. I was messing with the clock, and seem to have broken the setting mechanism. I'll be sure to tell Papa about it next time I see him."
"Lady Edith," Carson groaned in the closest Thomas has ever heard him come to disrespect. "Please do not mess with such things in future."
"I won't, Carson." Edith gave Thomas one last smile before continuing on her way leaving one stunned hall boy and one disgruntled butler behind her.
"Don't you have something better to do then gape, Thomas," Carson chided.
"Yes, Mr. Carson," Thomas said before scurrying back to the servants staircase.
From that moment on, Thomas took care to listen to every rumor and happening of Lady Edith. He heard of her first season and the conflicting reports of it being a complete failure or unconventional success. He learned of her following her father into business and taking an interest in running the estate. He collected the gorgeous drawings she left scattered in the gardens like rubbish. He listened skeptically to rumors that she was achingly shy, coldly rude, or simply strange for her avoidance of people. And he mocked the commonly held belief that Lady Edith's whole life revolved around Lady Mary and Patrick Crawley.
Thomas Barrow had two years to observe the Crawleys. He had moved up from hall boy to first footman, and had found pride in his position and a favorite in Lady Edith. While the other nobles schemed and gossiped, Lady Edith glided above it all. She did not chase suitors or plot for social advancement. She didn't let the biting comments of Mary, that made his own blood boil, get to her or hold the pitying looks of her parents send her into a state of madness like it would him. She handled her entire situation in a way he never would, never could, and somehow that made him respect her for it even as he scoffed at her "noble" approach. He still thought she should put Mary in her place once and a while. Not that he ever thought she would without good reason, and what a good reason it was.
Thomas had heard the gossip of course. Most of the staff believed the story that poor Edith loved Patrick but it was beautiful Mary's birthright to become lady of Downton. It created a sad, dramatic tale that he had never believed, but the longer it went on the more other people did. Even the upstairs, her own family, believed this tripe. Only he, Ms. Hughes, a few gardeners, and, he suspected, Lady Sybil believed otherwise. Somehow, it still surprised him as much as it pleased him to hear screaming from the library.
The resulting scene would be remembered as a turning point for many, both upstairs and downstairs alike. The yelling was so unnatural for the abbey that it called every family and staff member to scramble to the saloon to listen to Edith's voice shake in anger and the oaf viciously refuse to see sense.
William looked back and forth between the scene and Thomas's own vindictive smile in horror and worry at every word uttered. Carson looked as affronted as the old lady, and his bushy eyebrows didn't seem to know which direction to go as his expression kept jumping from scandalized disbelief to angry concern. The Crawleys were even more of a mess, and it wasn't helped when the door to the library slammed open and Lady Edith came storming out.
"Well done," Thomas muttered, watching as Lady Edith climbed the stairs with a last figurative bugger off to the oaf. It was everything he had wanted it to be, he told himself, refusing to glance back at where Lady Edith had disappeared.
"William, prepare for the guest's departure, including the dowager," Carson ordered, beginning to lead Sybil, James Crawley, the old lady, and a crying Lady Grantham clinging to her husband back into the drawing room. "Thomas, stay here."
"Mary, she is wrong," the idiot cried, desperately reaching out for his new fiancé only for her to continue facing away. Was he really so clueless? "We will be happy, Mary. I love you and you love me. Don't you, Mary?"
Lady Mary appeared to take a breath before turning to him. "Of course. We will be happy, Patrick. In Downton. That's all that matters."
"But you love me? You love me, don't you, Mary?"
"I'm marrying you aren't I," Lady Mary said stubbornly, reaching out to grab his arm steadingly. The oaf looked like he wanted to speak more when William came back.
"The car is ready, sir," William said, breathless as he quickly walked in. Not the look a footman should have.
"I-" the oaf started.
"You should go," Lady Mary cut him off. "You have a train in the morning."
There was silence for a moment as he just looked at her. Then, he said softly, "Mary, I love you."
"I know," Lady Mary nodded before turning to follow Lady Edith up the stairs. Thomas kept his face as blank as he could as he gave the younger Mr. Crawley his coat while William helped the older Crawley into his. As swiftly as possible, the footmen all but threw them out followed by the dowager countess. Soon, the rest of the family slipped upstairs as well. William did the final tasks of the evening and Thomas helped prepare his lordship for bed before they both made their way downstairs where a mob awaited them.
"What happened?" Gwen asked. The whole staff seemed to have gathered at the foot of the servants stairway to hear the news.
"That's not for you to know," Thomas snapped
"Are they really engaged?" a hall boy asked.
"W-well," William stammered.
"Why did everyone leave?" A maid cried.
"Ask Carson," Thomas said.
"Did Lady Edith do somethin'?" Daisy asked innocently. Every staff member nodded, looking up worriedly for their answer.
"Well, sort of?" William said, folding like a wet newspaper. "She yelled a lot that's for sure."
"Yelled!?"
"Yelled? Edith?"
"She must have felt hurt being rejected."
"Poor Edith, I thought she-"
"LADY Edith," Thomas said loudly, "asked to talk to Patrick who assumed, like the oaf he is, that it was to declare her love. Instead, she told him off for thinking she ever cared that much, called out her family, and did everything but call him a right bastard."
"Language, Thomas!" Mr. Carson thundered as he came down the stairs. The chattering of the servants stilled as everyone parted to let him through.
"It is true, Mr. Carson?" Ms. Hughes asked, face filled with concern.
"I'm afraid so. Lady Mary is engaged to Mr. Crawley, and assumptions lead to Lady Edith lashing out. The family is still greatly shaken. I don't want a word of this spoken of. This is a matter to be handled with discretion not chatter."'
The door to the upstairs opened and Anna silently slipped in behind Carson.
"Anna, did you check on the young ladies?" Ms. Hughes questioned.
"Are they alright?" Gwen said.
"Lady Mary is exhausted, but she will manage," Anna nodded. "And Lady Sybil seems to be handling everything alright. She's more worried about the others."
"And Lady Edith?" Ms. Hughes asked.
"I-," Anna stopped. "She- she didn't answer her door." Of course, everyone had favorites and everyone knew who Anna's was. Lady Mary took priority despite the fact Anna was all the girls' maid, not specifically Lady Mary's maid. Not that Thomas could blame her for trying to get a step ahead in the race to become the next lady of Downton's lady's maid.
"Thank you, Anna," Mr. Carson said. "Now, I want no more talk about this. To bed, all of you." The servants grumbled, but no one would dare disrespect Mr. Carson, especially not on a night like this. Well, actually, two would.
"Did you see how Lady Edith was after?"
"No," Thomas whispered. "She disappeared upstairs and I didn't get the chance. It really shook her up. Looked like she didn't expect this at all."
"No, she wouldn't," Ms. Hughes sighed softly. "The family isn't going to react well to this, and Lady Edith will pull away again."
"Don't know if she could do anything different with how that lot behaved."
"Maybe… We have to watch her more closely from now on. Insure her someone isn't-"
"Isn't that daft?"
"Thomas," Ms. Hughes scolded. "But yes. Just that she needs to know someone understands and is in her corner."
"I'll try."
"Good, I know you will. Now, we should get off to bed before Mr. Carson catches us. Goodnight, Mr. Barrow."
"Goodnight, Ms. Hughes."
Over the coming weeks, Thomas and Ms. Hughes made great effort to take care of Lady Edith, and by extension Lady Sybil as she rarely left her side. But no matter the number of tea services, gentle questions, and friendly nods, lady Edith remained withdrawn and pensive. The house was just as quiet. Few people talked as the silent stalemate between the family persisted. So it stayed until the fateful morning of April sixteenth when the news of the Titanic came to Downton Abbey.
