Tom felt nothing but resignation as he followed Mr. Carson up the servant stairway. This was the first and likely last time he, as a lowly chauffeur, would be allowed in the nicer parts of the house. From now on, he would use the lesser, longer staircases, enter through the low stoop of the back door, and resign himself to servitude under his English masters.
"The Crawley's are a noble family," Mr. Carson puffed on, as he had for the majority of Tom's introduction to the house. Tom had initially thought his bluster was just for the interview, but it seemed the man's devotion to the family was boundless. Fine, commendable even, as long as he wasn't expected to worship them with the same zeal. "A noble family and a kind family. You will treat them with the utmost respect and decorum worthy of a house such as Downton. I will not stand for his lordship to be displeased, are we clear?"
"Yes, Mr. Carson."
"Good. Now, straighten up, Mr. Branson. I will show you to the library to meet with his Lordship, and then I will introduce you to the rest of the staff."
"Yes, Mr. Carson," Tom repeated, straightening his new uniform as Carson opened the door and ushered him into the upstairs and, presumably, to the library. It was certainly posh, he would give them that. Much grander than his last household, but what could he expect of the English except pomp and a parade of their 'superiority'.
Tom was just shocked the lord of the house wanted to see him at all. What this Earl of Grantham could possibly want to talk to his new Irish chauffeur about personally was beyond him. Maybe he just wanted to warn him to not be too angry, foolish, drunk or backwards as the Irish stereotype assured he would be. He could promise all but the first. The warning itself would make him angry.
Mr. Carson motioned for him to wait outside the door before stepping inside and announcing, "You wanted to see the new chauffeur, my lord?"
"Yes, indeed," another voice chimed with a clear, proper English accent. "Please, send him in."
Carson motioned for Tom through the open door. With one last steadying breath and inner determination to act like an equal to the man and not an inferior, he entered the library. The Earl stood tall with a strong build and head of brown and grey waves. His eyes were blue and assessing as Tom stepped into the library. His smile was friendly and his face seemed kind, but only time would tell his true nature.
"Come in! Come in! Good to see you again. Branson, isn't it?" Lord Grantham questioned, standing from his desk to greet him.
"That's right, your lordship."
"I hope they've shown you where everything is, and we've delivered whatever we promised at the interview." The lord nodded as if perfectly content with others making promises in his name and hiring people to be in his home without having met them or knowing the terms.
"Certainly, m'lord."
"Won't you miss Ireland?"
"Ireland, yes," Tom said honestly, "but not the job. The mistress was a nice lady, but she only had one car and she wouldn't let me drive it over twenty miles an hour, so it was a bit... Well, boring, so to speak." And didn't pay half as well, he added in his head.
The Lord chuckled at his words, and Tom took a moment to look around the room. The library was beautifully decorated and richly furnished. More importantly, the room from ceiling to floor was all shelves of books. It was more books than Tom had ever seen in a private home, and it was fantastic.
"You have a wonderful library," Tom couldn't help but say, turning his head to look at all the shelves of books and read as many titles he could see on their spines.
"You are very welcome to borrow books if you wish."
Tom's head snapped back to the man. "Really, m'lord?"
"Well, there's a ledger over there that I make everyone use, even my daughters. Around half the pages are full of just my daughter Edith. Carson and Ms. Hughes sometimes take a novel or two as well," the Lord said. "What are your interests?"
"History and politics mainly," Tom said boldly.
Internally, he was waiting for the judgment and questions, but they did not come.
"Heavens. You'll be sharing most books with Edith then," Earl Grantham stated, and then turned to his butler. "Carson, Branson is going to borrow some books. He has my permission."
"Very good, my lord," Carson said stiffly.
"Is that all, m'lord?" Tom asked, expecting a warning or rules or something other than this.
"It is," Lord Grantham said instead, dismissing him with a friendly nod. "Off you go, and good luck."
Tom awkwardly walked from the room and waited for Mr. Carson to join him. What a strange meeting. What a strange Earl. Not that it truly mattered. He needed this job regardless, but being able to borrow books from that marvelous library was a bonus he didn't expect.
Suddenly Tom felt as if eyes were on him. A quick glance to his left and right showed no servants were in the room, and yet-
"Edie!" A sweet voice cried from above. Tom quickly looked up at the grand stairway and was greeted with the sight of an angel. She was a vision of long, dark curls, plush lips, and a delicate upturned nose. She was a feek, a pixie, a cailín álainn. Tom had never seen a girl as beautiful as her.
"Edie?" The beautiful girl said again as she walked along the balustrade to another girl who was leaning over it. This other girl looked older, skinny with a head of red-blonde hair and big brown eyes that were staring directly at him. He hadn't noticed her before, but looking at her now he knew it was her eyes he had felt. Their eyes locked for a moment, and in that moment he noticed her expression was strange. Recognition and happiness warred with dread and worry in her gaze. Why? Did she know of him? Did she dislike he was Irish? What made her look at him with such emotion?
At the angel's call, the blonde shook her head and turned away from him. She linked arms with the dark haired beauty, and together they walked past the stairway and further into the upstairs. The younger one hadn't even seen him. For some reason Tom wished-
"Mr. Branson," Carson said as he stepped form the library. "Come along. There is still much to show you."
"Who- I," Branson stammered. "I saw two young ladies, upstairs. A blonde and a younger girl."
"Ah, yes. I forgot you aren't from the area. Most new staff know the family on sight. Those ladies would be Lord Grantham's younger two daughters. They are rarely far apart," Carson nodded. "The elder is Lady Edith.The younger is Lady Sybil. Their older sister is Lady Mary."
"Lady Sybil," Tom muttered to himself.
"Yes, now, come along. We don't have much time. Her ladyship has ordered the car around after luncheon." Carson said, turning on his heel and returning to the downstairs. Tom reluctantly followed, still looking back at the stairway. The rest of the morning was spent with Carson explaining his duties, showing him the garage and his sleeping quarters, and introducing him to the rest of the staff.
Anna was a sweet girl who welcomed him warmly, but she was a touch under the weather so didn't stay long. He liked a number of the other maids too. Frieda was a laugh, and he felt an instant kinship with Gwen. Rose and Dorothy he could do without though. Especially with Dorothy's, or Dottie's as she insisted he call her, blatant flirting as soon as she saw him.
Ms. Hughes was a godsend, wrangling the cacophony of the downstairs with a firm hand and kind eye. She sent Dorothy away with a stern rebuke that didn't embarrass the girl just as he had been trying and failing to do. Unlike Carson, she seemed to understand people, and was much more willing to forgive.
Tom made a note to avoid Ms. O'Brien and Ms. Patmore for different reasons in the few hours he had known them. Mr. Bates seemed like a nice chap even if he was rather quiet. William was friendly in an open hearted, boyish way that you couldn't help but like. His opposite in every way was Thomas who had seemed to gain most of the house's disapproval, particularly William's and Mr. Bate's, by inviting one of the scullery maids to the town fair that night.
Tom made another note to avoid the drama and Thomas if need be. Although, he personally couldn't see anything wrong with Thomas inviting the girl out. If she liked him and needed a break from Ms. Patmore's screeching, why shouldn't they go together? Not that he had much feeling one way or the other. He had more pressing concerns, like his first drive with the lady of the house and her two younger daughters.
"So you are the new chauffeur," Lady Grantham smiled as she approached him and the open car door he held. She wore an opulent day dress and a gargantuan, white hat. "Branson, am I right?"
"Yes, m'lady," Tom said politely. "Tom Branson."
"Well, it's good to have you with us, Branson. You will be driving us to Madam Swan's Tailoring. Do you know where that is?"
"Yes, m'lady. I made sure to familiarize myself with the area before I took the position." So I could be offered the position, Tom thought.
"Wonderful! Come girls," she said, stepping up into the motor car.
Tom tried not to be seen as prying even as he cast quick glances at the young ladies following their mother. Lady Edith was still watching him, and Lady Sybil was just as stunning as she had been that morning.
"Welcome to Downton, Branson," Edith said, a hesitant but warm smile on her lips even as she looked him up and down. She seemed to be looking for something.
"Thank you, m'lady," Tom said stiffly.
"Hello, Branson," Lady Sybil smiled, sweet and kind and genuine. "I'm Sybil and this is Edith. I hope you enjoy your time at Downton."
"I'm sure I will, Lady Sybil," Tom said, trying to beat down any lingering emotion in his voice and heart. It didn't matter what he thought of her. She probably wouldn't think of him at all past this one interaction.
The girls climbed into the car, and he did his job. He ignored their chatter as best he could, and drove the group to the tailors. Then, he spent an arduous two hours sitting and waiting. It was the hardest part of his job. Tom wished he had been able to take a book immediately at Lord Grantham's suggestion. It might have made the time more bearable until he saw the group of women returning to the car. Tom was quick to jump out and open the door for the approaching ladies. He was glad to return to the manor and see the insides of this new car of his, even if it was only his in spirit and not truth.
"I just don't understand why Edith gets to choose her clothes and I don't," Lady Sybil scowled. It was cute. Tom beat that thought down.
"Because dear," Lady Grantham cheerfully didn't answer.
"You're too sweet, Bil. You need to be more stubborn, more mean, less willing to please," Lady Edith said. Lady Sybil perked up.
"So, if I'm stubborn enough, I can get a choice next time?"
"No dear, not stubborn, but you can choose something, darling. As long as you choose what I choose," Lady Grantham said. Lady Sybil wilted further while Lady Edith sighed and mouthed 'less willing to please' in her sister's general direction. Lady Grantham ignored the two and turned to him. "Branson, you'll be taking Lady Sybil to Ripon tomorrow. She'll be leaving after luncheon."
"Certainly, your ladyship," Tom replied, helping all the ladies into the car and then going to start it.
"Poor old Madam Swan," Lady Sybil sighed. "I don't know why we bother with fittings. She always makes the same frock."
"Which is why we go to Ripon," Lady Edith said. "What will you ask for there instead?"
"Something new and exciting!"
"Heavens, look at the time," Lady Grantham exclaimed. "Not a minute to change. And Granny's invited herself for dinner."
"Then she can jolly well wait," Lady Sybil declared cheerfully.
"So women's rights begin at home, I see. Well, I'm all for that."
All the ladies chuckled, and Tom smiled. His eyes remained glued to the road as the women continued to talk and laugh together. Still, Tom couldn't help but glance in the back mirror occasionally, and every time he caught Lady Edith's gaze. She was still watching him. Even as Tom pulled the car up to the front doors of Downton Abbey and helped her mother and sister out, Lady Edith still looked at him knowingly.
"Brandson," Lady Edith called just as he was about to return to the driver's side and take the car back to the garage.
"Yes, m'lady?"
"Downton has its fair share of drama and tension, some above stairs and some below. My family usually turns a blind eye unless it bubbles over to affect their lives, but well," The blonde hesitated for a moment before pressing on. "If you need some help while you are with us, anything that I can offer, please speak to me directly or to Ms. Hughes."
"I don't plan on getting involved in ANY drama, m'lady" Tom said stubbornly. Edith just smiled as if she knew something he did not.
"You'll understand in time, Mr. Branson. The abbey has a way of getting us all roped into its drama, whether we want to be or not," Lady Edith said, turning to join her beautiful sister and walk into the house together. Just as he had been with Lord Grantham, Tom was horribly confused and more than a tad frustrated.
"Bloody, confounding English," Tom began to mutter as he climbed into the car and drove away. He just needed this job, needed the money for Kieran and Eileen, but he swore, these strange Crawley's might be the death of him.