The drawing room was exactly how Sybil remembered it.
'And why shouldn't it be?' she thought to herself as she settled onto the devan. 'Why is it so startling that something in Downton should remain? It wasn't changed in my first life why would papa change it now?' She looked about and answered her own question within moments. 'Because everything has changed so drastically that I can't help but feel that all reminders of the life I once led, in both realities, have been wiped away.' It was rather like returning to the beach they had visited when she was a child only to find the sand castle she had built remained, untouched from when she'd made the last crumbly tower.
The room though remained the same, refusing to be altered despite all that had happened. She remembered the first time she had seen it, only in passing and because some visitor had wished to see her before dinner; children of course weren't welcome in the drawing room as they ate by themselves. It had been such a strange room and she knew that Mary had always been obsessed with it, feeling she was mature enough to mingle within, but Sybil had merely seen it as an adult room full of furniture she wouldn't want to touch for risk of yet another scolding from Nanny and boring conversations that would put her to sleep before the dinner gong could sound. When she'd finally been ruled old enough to join her family in eating in the dining room, and thus given the right to sit in the drawing room before hand, she had found it utterly unchanged… and her opinion of it proven correct. The chairs were not as comfortable as the ones in her room, the conversation had been dry and bland, and the 'privilege' of being treated as mature had made her long for her childhood as that would at least stimulate her brain.
It had taken several years for her to actually grow used to the room and understand that it was hardly boring at all. Everyone had merely censored themselves when she was around, making polite conversation about meaningless things when she was in ear shot. But as she'd left girlhood and become a woman grown they had allowed their own restraint to slip and thus Sybil understood the quiet politicking that played out before their meals. She learned to hear what was unsaid just as much as what was said, the hints and clues that were begging to be eased out. How Granny and mom could appear utterly polite but in fact be arguing about some charity or event. Papa talking with Cousin James wasn't merely boring old men swapping tales about the history of Downton but rather a fierce debate on what lands to sell and purchase and how to manage the estate. Mary politely nodding as Patrick rambled on about some boring tale filled with bragging and boasts was the dance to determine if maintaining control of Downton was worth being his wife… and if she could go long enough to produce an heir before she stabbed him in the eye with a kitchen knife.
So many things had been discussed in that room. Mary's engagement to Patrick. The death of Uncle Maraduke and what that meant for Aunt Rosamund. Agreements with their neighbors that would see businesses and charities rise and fall. The Titanic Sinking. Matthew. The feuds between her sister and the brother of her heart as they battled their feelings in their first life, then the coming together to do away with the drama in their second chance. What to make of Pamuk should someone ask questions, though she had hid her thoughts on that in her second life. Sybil wanting to be a nurse in her first life. The utter shattering of the family in her second. Her and Tom's decision to marry and later what they might do with their lives after their exile from Ireland.
'They say that homes like these are as much alive as the rest of us,' Sybil thought to herself as her father and Matthew exchanged awkward conversation. While he had been willing and ready to get everything out in the open once they'd sat down Matthew had apparently found himself wishing for some time to gather his thoughts and thus he was discussing with papa the War Office and some minor facts about the War. From the way papa kept asking questions it was clear he wanted some time as well. 'That homes that have stood for decades and centuries develop personalities of their own. Gwen always said that Mr. Carson could tell how the weather was even if he was deep in the cellar by the way the house would groan after a rain or creak like it was singing when the sun was warm and bright.' She looked about the room. 'What if Downton's soul could travel through time as we did and live again? What must it think of these two different lives that have occurred under its roof. Would it be happy that Matthew and Mary found love and joy without so much pain? Would it mourn the fight that caused so many to us to leave? Rage at the folly of it all? Would it be aghast at being used to house wounded officers? Or thrilled that it, like all the rest of us, could help in the war effort to protect our way of live?'
Her father cleared his throat. "While we could continue to skirt about the issue I think it would do all of us a great amount of good if we turned to the matter at hand."
"Yes, I believe you are right," Matthew said. "And I suppose the first question I must ask if what brought about this change in you, Robert. When I last saw you it was quite clear that you wanted nothing to ever do with me again. And from the lack of contact you've had with Sybil and her sisters-" it warmed her heart that he placed her first, choosing to recognize that he held loyalty not just to Mary, "-your opinion on their state was also made clear. So you'll forgive us all for being… I suppose pessimistic is the nicest way to put it… about your motives."
Papa winced at that but nodded in agreement. "And I understand completely. Those feelings are to be expected… I told mama as much when we came up with this idea, that the greatest enemy to our plans would be the damage I had already done upon you all… ironically those are the very things I am trying to make right with all of this." He leaned forward in his chair. "As for what brought about my change in thinking… no." He shook his head, giving a morose little smile. "No, that isn't the right way to put it. What made me realize just how much of a thunderous clod I had been were the words of another man who showed me the blessings I failed to see I held."
He then launched into the tale of his visit to the club in London and the conversation he had engaged in that had shown him how lucky he truly was. All the men there, that he respected, that envied him for having his family remain whole yet also scorned him for not seeing how wonderful it was. And then the long ride back from London and his decision to not return to the empty Abbey filled with its portraits that would judge him as a failure and the whispered memories of better times but rather granny's house, to seek her aid and comfort. Their plotting and planning to bring the family back together and to show that he truly was trying to change.
She had heard bits and pieces of it from granny, of course, but hearing her father say it all left her… conflicted. On one hand she knew that Mary had latched onto the fact that it had taken their father going to a club and talking with his lordly friends to get him to see all he had done was wrong. And her sister had not looked upon that revelation kindly.
Sybil herself wasn't completely pleased with it either. She understood that sometimes an opinion could change thanks to the most unlikely of sources; Sybil sometimes wondered what her life had been like had she never learned that Gwen wanted to be a secretary and thus she'd never formed the bond with her former maid that she had. And of course there was Tom… even before she had realized that he loved her and she loved him he had opened her eyes to new things. Causes she had never thought about, injustices she'd never considered. Yes, she had been passionate before him and Gwen, but it had been directionless. They had set her on the same path. The same was true with her father and the men at his club.
'But it still doesn't stop the hurt that even his revelation didn't come from us but from rich old men,' she thought to herself. 'And yet he has had that revelation all the same. Is it right of me to not accept that he wants to change purely because I am not happy that it wasn't myself who inspired that change?'
And that was the other thing, the important thing: he had changed. She knew that many in her group thought this was scheme, that he was plotting against them or had come up with some secret plan to undo Mary's marriage to Matthew and force them all back under his control. The problem with that was that they'd never been under papa's control even when they were young, so such attempts would be doomed to fail.
'And I don't think he does want any of that,' she thought as he finished his tale. 'I can tell… he has changed. He realizes he was wrong. And he's trying to make things right.'
She forced herself to push aside her thoughts as Matthew spoke. "Why this route, Robert? What made you decide to turn Downton into a convalescence home and bring us in to run it?"
"Two reasons," papa stated. "First and foremost that General Allen was right when he confronted me those months ago: I wasn't doing enough." He looked down at the arm of his chair, idly running his fingers along the fabric, clearly resisting the urge to pick at the stitching. She'd only noticed that habit of his during her second life, when she was trying to distract herself from the tedium of having to hear conversations all over again and was no longer a child who was interested in learning what even the most boring of topics was about. When he was unsure of himself or a topic papa would ran his hands over the arm of a chair and seek out a stitch and prepare to pick at it only to catch himself at the last moment, then begin the process again. "I have spent too long sitting here talking about the war and longing to do more yet not seeking out ways to do just that. Oh, I donated some money, attended some events, but it wasn't enough. I realized that, even when I was at my most… stubborn moments… but I was looking in the wrong directions to be able to serve. Focused on fighting so I could feel important when I should have been focused on helping others.
"That's why doing all of this was so important to me. Because it is a selfless cause. Yes, there will be some that will say that doing this helps Downton's image, that I am taking an easy route by staying at home and making the war come to me, but the changes to my life and the struggles I've gone through to prepare Downton to serve this cause hopefully will prove that false."
Sybil slowly nodded. She, better than anyone else, knew just how much work it took to get any building in the proper shape to care for the injured and sick. Far too many thought that all one needed to do was set up some cots and bring in some nurses and everything would be all set. But there were so many other small details to consider. Ease of moving men about, especially those that could not easily make their way up and down stairs. Where to store supplies. How to handle the cleaning of bedding. Instruments and equipment as well. What to do with the waste that was generated: blood-stained gauze, soiled bedding, and other items of the like. How to properly sanitize not just the equipment but the rooms and prevent spread of contaminates. Where nurses and the like would eat and sleep (even if they didn't stay on site, like they would at Downton). The fact that her father had widened doorways showed that he was thinking far further ahead than most did!
"And your other reason?" Sybil asked.
"To show that I understand now that Matthew was right… remains still right I suppose… and that I was wrong. That there is more to this war than sitting on a horse raising a Calvary saber and shouting war cries. That one can serve their country without being on the battlefield. That, in fact, sometimes that is the best way to aid in the effort."
"And choosing the two of us?" Matthew asked, gesturing between himself and Sybil.
"To show that I am willing to put my trust in you both to see all of this succeed." Papa looked down and in a softer voice stated, "I know that it will take time. That this will not be enough to get you to forgive me. I'm not sure I can either forgive myself, so how can I even be sure you will forgive me. But I want to try and this… this is the best way to do so that I know."
Sybil was quiet for a long time, mulling over her father's words. Matthew did the same. And to papa's credit he did not force the issue, no matter how awkward the silence was. He sat there, bearing the quiet of everything, allowing them to come to terms with what he had said.
"You must understand," she finally found herself saying, "that things will never return to the way they were. Our lives have changed… all of ours. The people we were before that night are gone."
"I know," her father said with a soft sigh. "And frankly I am glad that I for one have changed."
"But can you accept that we have?" Sybil pressed. "That we have made decisions that you would never have accepted?" She glanced a Tom and, to as much his surprise as her father's, took his hand in her's. "Tom and I are courting, papa." He started at that, eyes wide is shock and his mouth dropping slightly at that bombshell. "It is my hope that that after this war ends and the world is a far better place without the threat of death and destruction constantly hanging over us I will become his wife. We will be joined together papa. Can you accept that? That a man who was your chauffeur will be your son-in-law?"
Her father began to speak only to stop himself short. He looked away, eyes shutting for a moment, before he finally turned back towards them. "I was about ready to say yes, that I would… but we both know that would be false. That it would merely be me saying what I knew you wanted to hear in order to mend things between us. But that would do us no good, would it?"
"No, it would not," Sybil stated.
"My first instinct is to state all the reasons I feel it would not work. Why I think it would be unwise." She nodded, not bothering to protest because she could sense what he was about to say next. "But I lost the right to judge you and your choices. All I can ask… does he make you happy?"
"He does," Sybil said without hesitation.
"Branson… Tom…" he quickly corrected himself, rising to his feet. "Don't make the same mistake I did." He moved to the door but paused, looking back at them. "I will not be foolish enough to expect you to dine with me any time soon. Or perhaps want to be in the same room as me. But when you are… when I have proven that I have earned even that amount of trust… I will be ready."
And with that he left.
Matthew and Sybil shared a look.
"…I can't believe I'm saying this… but I believe him," Matthew finally said.
Sybil, still holding Tom's hand, nodded. "So do I."
~A~O~O~O~F~
Sarah O'Brien occupied now an odd position within the Downton household and she knew it.
When her ladyship had fled in the middle of the night with only her evening dress and little Lillian most other lady's maids would have rushed to find their mistress or packed their bags and begun to work on their references. But Sarah had remained... mostly, if she were honest, because she didn't have a chance to actually consider what she would do. She wasn't mindlessly loyal to Lady Grantham like Mr. Carson was to his lordship or Anna had been to Mary (though in that later case clearly she hadn't been loyal enough... or perhaps she had, if the tales of Lady Mary coming to visit her former maid were true). Yet she had also understood that with the War the need for lady's maids were few and far between. Every wife and widow were turning to service in order to fill their days and their pocketbooks and the high born women loved to take on such charity cases; made them feel like they were doing some noble act in hiring a woman who was used to dressing their own babes rather than a member of the upper class.
But Sarah hadn't been given a chance to decide what she would do. She'd found out about her ladyship leaving when she'd went into her room only to find the bed having never been slept in. After that had been a whirlwind of indignities as his lordship and the local constable had questioned her and Lillian's nanny about the missing Lady of Grantham. The nanny had quit right then and there but Sarah had decided to be smart about it, swallowing the slings and arrows sent her way until the time had proven right.
And it had been soon enough.
His lordship had believed that her ladyship would come to her senses and return at any moment and thus he'd asked Sarah to remain, with pay. She'd accepted of course; she was no fool. And as the days had turned to weeks and then several months she'd continued to remain, his lordship suddenly shifting from believing that his wife would return to wanting to do all he could to earn back the right of her company. Part of that strategy involved keeping Sarah around.
Where other servants though would have taken the opportunity to smugly do nothing and rub it in the noses of their fellows that they were to merely sit in the servant's hall catching up on her reading Sarah had not. She had her pride and it would not allow her to laze about. Also... she knew that one day her ladyship WOULD return and she would have to get back to work and it wasn't wise to make enemies when she lost her protection. She hadn't had any true allies since Thomas had left and thus it would have been her against the masses.
Thus that was how Sarah found herself in the odd position of being a sort-of secondary Head Housekeeper, directly under Mrs. Hughes. It was rather like an Under Butler position, only instead of seeing to the cleaning of the silverware and the management of dinners she helped monitor the maids to make sure they did their duties properly, organized cleaning schedules, and inspected rooms to determine how to properly handle them. Mrs. Hughes was grateful for her assistance and let her know many times. And the maids understood that while she didn't have the power to punish them like Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson did a word from her would mean a world of trouble.
This strange odd position she found herself in saw her in all manner of unusual situations.
This afternoon being a prime example.
"Are we supposed to wait on them though?" Ethel asked, the book she had been reading about some glamorous foreign city the silly little twit would never visit forgotten in the face of the startling news that had been dropped on them by one by one of the kitchen maids and confirmed by Simmons.
"Mr. Carson said we weren't to wait on the nursing staff," Sophie reminded her. She had been working on a bit of stitch, practicing for the day she became a lady's maid ('Heaven help the poor girl who gets that one!' Sarah thought) and while she tried to continue on Sarah could tell that her distraction was causing her to make mistakes.
"Yes but that is different from this, isn't it?" Ethel stated. "They are family, after all. So are we expected to wait on them hand and foot. Curtsey whenever they walk into a room and say, 'yes sir' and 'no mum' when they ask us something."
"Oh, Lady Sybil wouldn't like that," Daisy said and for once Sarah found herself argeeing with the kitchen maid. She was standing in the doorway, a dish rag in one hand and a glass in the other, looking at the gathered servants with those big wet eyes of her's and a small smile on her face.
"Please, all of them love being pampered," Sophie stated.
"Not Lady Sybil,' Daisy charged. "She was very kind to everyone. She learned our names and-"
"Oh, that is a monumental feat worth of Hercules himself!" Ethel said with a laugh.
"…I don't know who that is," Dairy said softly.
Ethel and Sophie shared a chuckle and that's when O'Brien decided to remind them that she was still sitting there. Not because she actually cared about Daisy… more that she loathed the two maids far more than that girl. At least Daisy understood her place in the House and didn't try to put on airs or believe she was better than anyone else. Daisy understood what she needed to do and didn't have a chip on her shoulder.
"Don't you mind, Daisy… there are two kinds of intelligence in this world: those that know things that actually matter and those that know who Hercules is." That earned glowers from the two maids and a beaming smile from the kitchen maid. 'Probably the first time someone said she was smart,' Sarah reasoned.
"So bettering yourself doesn't actually matter?" Ethel challenged. "We should all be like you? Satisfied in our meager lives?"
"Better than being like you, throwing out the smallest scrapes of information in order to lord over your false intelligence. I have found that people that do that tend to be the most ignorant of all. Especially when it comes to this matter." She sipped her tea, taking just long enough to let Ethel think she would be able to sneak in a comment before she cut her right off. "Lady Sybil is the kindest woman that has ever lived in this house. Her respect for those that serve has been clear to all that work with her and she has always refused to put on airs. She doesn't hold herself any farther above us that she already is. And she certainly isn't one to expect everyone to go bowing and scraping before her."
Daisy quickly nodded, speaking up. "It's true. There was a maid that worked her, Gwen, who Lady Sybil was very supportive of when she wanted to become a secretary."
"Hmm, maybe I need to meet with Sybil then," Ethel said with a casual waving of her hand. "See if she won't help me get out of this life of drudgery."
"There is a rather easy way for you to get out of this life of drudgery, Ethel," Mr. Carson said sternly, all the servants leaping to their feet as the butler entered the servant's hall with Mrs. Hughes only two steps behind him. The man might have lost a bit of his passion and spark when Lady Mary had left Downton abruptly but one wouldn't be able to tell now if they looked at him. The fire that Sarah remembered from whenever Thomas had been far too cheeky for his own good flared in the man's eyes once more as he looked at Ethel, the entitled brat of a maid keeping her head down, eyes focused on her shoes. "I believe that someone like you, who claims to be so very wise, knows what a door is. If you wish to step through it and explore that brave exciting world you are always going about then you are more than welcome to do so." He waited but Ethel made no move to leave the table. "Hmmm. I thought not. Now then, allow me to correct some other misconceptions you have. First and foremost her name is Lady Sybil Crawley and you will address her as such."
"Mr. Carson," Mrs. Patmore said, having emerged from the kitchen when she heard the butler begin to speak, "Simmons said that her title now is Matron. Should we not address her as that?"
Mr. Carson mulled that over before shaking his head. "Unless she corrects us no, I think not. She is still the daughter of his Lordship and this is his home and we will show her the respect she deserves."
"Perhaps," Mrs. Hughes spoke up, "if you have to interact with her while she is in the middle of her official duties and is around others one should refer to her as Matron… as a sign of respect for her position? But other times her first title will remain."
"Yes… yes I suppose you are right there," Mr. Carson admitted though Sarah could tell he wasn't happy about that. To him the greatest title she would ever had would be 'Lady' and Sarah wouldn't be surprised if he purposely avoided talking to her while she was with her nurses just to ensure he didn't have to call her 'Matron'. "Now then, for those who haven't heard… and I suppose at this point that would be none of you but I will state this nonetheless… His Lordship has decided to place the running of the convalescence home in the hands of Dr. Clarkson, Mr. Matthew Crawley, and Lady Sybil."
"Are they our new employers now?" a kitchen maid asked.
"No, as we will, for the most part, remain separate from the hospital and its day-to-day operations. We may assist at times, mostly with the cleaning of linens and providing food, but we will not be expected to care for the men staying here. In fact," here he shot a dark look at Ethel and Sophie, "I would remind you of my earlier warnings that you are not to interact with the soldiers or nurses unless required to do so. The nurses all have important duties they must see to and the soldiers must focus on regaining their strength rather than entertaining others. Others who have tasks they should be performing. They don't have time to deal with your frivolous thoughts."
Daisy spoke up. "Mr. Carson, someone said that Tom Branson had come with Mr. Crawley and Lady Sybil. Is that true?"
"It is, Daisy, and I was just preparing to cover that." The young woman beamed at that and Sarah fought the urge to roll her eyes because of course Daisy would believe she'd just been paid a compliment. "Mr. Branson has returned to Downton but he is neither a member of this staff or a connected to the hospital." Mrs. Hughes' face twisted a little at that and Sarah wondered exactly what Mr. Carson wasn't saying and decided to have a talk with the Head Housekeeper the first chance she could; while not friends like Mrs. Hughes was with Mrs. Patmore Sarah and her had managed to find common ground… namely in their frustrations over certain members of the staff. It was likely Mrs. Hughes wouldn't tell her a thing but Sarah would try. "He is doing a series of articles about life during the war and will be interviewing soldiers to get their stories. He is a guest of his lordship and will be treated as such."
"You mean we have to wait on the chauffer?" Sophie said, aghast.
"I mean that you will treat Mr. Branson, reporter for The Sketch, as you would any other reporter who was welcomed into Downton Abbey by his lordship. Do I make myself clear?" Sophie quickly nodded. "Now then, if there is nothing else-"
"Actually, if I might have a moment?"
The staff all started at that, turning for find Lady Sybil herself standing in the doorway. Eyes were wide and Sarah noticed several people grow rather pale as they wondered just how much the young woman had heard.
"O-of course, Lady Sybil," Mr. Carson said, shifting so she might have the floor. "Whatever can we do for you?"
"Well, I did need to talk with Mrs. Patmore concerning the meals that would be prepared for the soldiers… there are certain foods that do not sit well on a stomach and I wanted to go over the menu concerning them… but I just wanted to greet you all and thank you in advance for all you have done and will be doing to assist us. I understand how much additional work has been placed upon you all and I hope with my arrival I might bring things to a new state of normalcy." She smiled before looking to Mr. Carson, signaling she was done.
"Thank you, my lady," Mr. Carson said with a small dip of his head. "Mrs. Patmore?"
The cook looked back at the kitchen. "Yes… I suppose I can leave the duck on its own for a bit-"
Lady Sybil held up a hand, shaking her head. "No no, if you are busy this can wait. I'd much rather catch you when there aren't a million things to do at once. I suppose, now that I think about it, I myself should be focusing on other tasks as well. Perhaps tomorrow, around 9?"
"Yes… yes that will work," Mrs. Patmore said, utterly put on the wrong foot by Lady Sybil's words and actions.
"Thank you. Mrs. Hughes, would you mind terribly getting the keys for the nurses' quarters on the 3rd floor? I will be taking over them so you might have less to worry about."
"Well, it hasn't been a problem at all but I don't mind getting them for you," Mrs. Hughes stated and Lady Sybil nodded in thanks and followed her out.
Mr. Carson waited till he was sure she was out of earshot before stating sternly to the maids, "I will not be embarrassed like that again. Lady Sybil will be far more active in her duties here and could very well come down here at any time, as is her right."
Sarah chose not to comment on that; she was still of the opinion that the Family should never venture down the stairs, that the servant's hall and the rooms in the lowest and highest part of Downton were the domain of the servants and it wasn't proper for the family to come prancing about down there. That said she also understood that Lady Sybil was very much a servant herself now, only to the poor men that were trying to heal after fighting in the war for all of them, and that meant that at times she would need to come down to talk with the staff. It was unheard of yet in these times the unheard of seemed to becoming the norm.
Things broke up after that, with Mr. Carson going to his office and Sophie and Ethel walking off to snip at each other… those two somehow managed to be good friends and horrid enemies at the same time, something Sarah could never understand. Daisy returned to the kitchens with Mrs. Patmore and Sarah decided that after all of the drama of the past 30 minutes she needed a cigarette.
Thus it was rather a surprise to find Lady Sybil standing near the ironing room, turning her head this way and that in a clear scanning motion until she locked eyes on the lady's maid and motioned for her to follow her. Intrigued Sarah did just that.
"I first wanted to pass this along to you," Lady Sybil said, handing her a sealed envelope. "It is from mama. She had heard you had remained at Downton after she left and she wanted to finally make her apologizes for not bring you along with her." Sarah accepted the letter, nodding slightly. A letter was a poor apology for abandoning her but it was better than most high born ladies would have done. "I also have a request of you from myself."
"What can I help you with, my lady?"
Sybil dropped her already quiet voice to an even lower whisper. "I asked Thomas his opinion on this matter, and Tom as well, and both agreed you would be best suited for this." That piqued her interest; those two agreeing on something? "I know that with so many men coming here, many of them from good and wealthy families, several with titles that carry great weight in our society, that there will be temptation among some in the staff to… take advantage of the situation. My hope is that you can assist me in mitigating this."
"You wish me to spy for you?" Sarah blurted out before she could consider what she was actually saying and how blunt she was being.
Lady Sybil though quickly shook her head. "No. I understand how dangerous that could be for you. Merely if you know of ones I should keep an eye on… I'd ask Mrs. Hughes or Mr. Carson but I fear they'd take it as an affront to the honor of Downton."
Mrs. Hughes no… but Sarah absolutely could see Mr. Carson feeling that way.
"Ethel," she said without a second though. "Sophie might try something but Ethel is the one you need to worry about. The maid with the lighter hair who thinks she's destined to be some great lady of the world. She has dreams in her head and they make her walk around with her eyes closed, if you get my meaning."
"I do, and thank you," Lady Sybil said. "I will leave you be, O'Brien."
Sarah watched her go and wondered just what Downton had gotten itself into giving that girl power.
~MC~MC~MC~
Author's Notes: Final plot bunny before the hiatus and let's make it a rather simple one, shall we? What if Matthew had decided to become a doctor rather than a lawyer? What would have happened had he not had a standing in law but medicine? A different position in the army. Never asked to look at the inheritance. Diagnose Sybil when she was having problems with her pregnancy…
