Since tumblr is a chaotic place I've decided to go ahead and make a master post of all the fics and other major fannish stuff I've posted on tumblr. As always you can head to FFN or AO3 and read the fics I've written over there. I've tried to present this list by fandoms and works in alphabetical order.
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Summary: As Sybil prepares to depart for Ireland, Mary and Edith want to have one last word to let her know they'll always be there for her. Set after 2x8. One-shot. Canon compliant.
Mary and Edith stood in Sybil’s room waiting for her to come back from talking with their mother. Doubtless Mama was trying her very best to be brave about Sybil leaving. Mary was sure Mama wouldn’t be pulling any last minute theatrics to try to convince Sybil to stay. But their mother had other means of coercion that Mary and Edith knew too well.
Edith crossed over and sat on Sybil’s bed. “I can’t believe she’s leaving tomorrow. It was so strange for her to go away to York when she did her nursing course. Now she’ll be gone forever.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “She’s going to Ireland, not the moon. I’m sure we’ll see her plenty after everyone’s had a chance to calm down about it all.”
“Still,” said Edith, not prepared to give up her moroseness, “it’ll be strange not seeing her at the breakfast table or chatting with her after dinner.”
Mary tried to hide her own sorrow at her sister’s departure with practicality. “We were all going to leave at some point, it’s just that Sybil is the first. There’s really nothing all that strange about it.”
Edith sighed. “I wish you’d just say, ‘I’m going to miss her too.’ We both know you adore her the most in the family.”
Mary sighed herself and sat at Sybil’s vanity. “All right. You win. I’ll miss her dearly. But you can’t act like this wasn’t always going to happen someday. Maybe not with the chauffeur, but still. We were always going to marry off and go away.”
“Except for you,” said Edith. “You were always supposed to marry Cousin Patrick and stay here.”
“Let’s not bring that up.” Mary cut off that line of conversation before it could get started.
“Do you think she’ll be happy?” Edith returned to the topic of Sybil. “It’s going to be hard for her living in Ireland with Branson-, I mean Tom.”
“I don’t know.” Mary’s voice carried a note of despair. “It’s hard to tell if she’s happy now, or just stubborn. She’s much like Papa in that way. She hates being wrong and always thinks she knows best.”
“I suppose all of us do in a way. But Sybil is more of a schemer when it comes to it.” Edith sighed again. “I wish she would have told us about it earlier, maybe we could have done something then.”
“She’d told me that Branson, I mean Tom, asked her to run away with her when she went for her nursing course, but I didn’t know she was harboring feelings for him as well. I would have done something if I’d known that.” Mary looked at her hands. It seemed like so much was slipping through them these days. “I just wish I could say that I knew Bran-, Tom, better. I have no idea if he’ll be good to her.”
Edith looked over at her sister. “I think he will. He seems like a good man, running off with Sybil aside.”
“What makes you say that?” Mary looked up to catch Edith’s eye. Usually Edith was ready to supply the most pessimistic outlook.
Edith shrugged. “Back when he was teaching me to drive. I guess I sort of got to know him in my own way. We spent quite a lot of time in the car together for a few months. You can’t just talk about depressing the clutch the whole time.”
For the first time since Mama had recovered from influenza, Mary felt a small sense of relief. “Well, what sort of man do you make him to be then?”
“A good one, if I had to say.” Edith smiled a bit. “He was always very patient with me, even when I made mistakes. And not in that servant sort of way either. He was always calm and kind, even when I got us stalled out on the other side of Thirsk and it took him two hours to get everything running again. He just laughed and said he wasn’t sure how I’d managed it and showed me what to do the next time so it wouldn’t happen again.” Edith moved to sit down on the upholstered chair that was closest to the vanity. “I’ve never had someone tell me I’m doing well at something before, or say that just because I’m a woman I shouldn’t know or do something. Branson was always very supportive.”
“Tom,” Mary corrected with a sigh. “We’ve got to try and get it right because heaven knows Papa won’t. And we mustn’t do anything to push Sybil away.”
Edith nodded. “I’m trying. Tom. I think Tom will be good to our Sybil, even if he won’t be able to give her much else.” Edith emphasized the name in order to make it stick in her memory.
“I pray to God that you’re right.” It was all Mary could hope for at this point. Sybil was too darling to end up with a man who drank too much or used cruel words or would ever lay a finger on her. Mary also knew how easy it was for a darling woman to be trapped by such a man. She herself feared that she was about to be trapped by such a man, but she didn’t like to dwell on the thought.
Just then, the door opened and Sybil came into the room. She was scowling and talking under her breath and stopped in surprise at seeing both of her sisters. “What are you doing here?”
“We wanted to talk to you,” said Mary as she stood from Sybil’s vanity. “And help you pack.”
Sybil crossed her arms over her chest. “Not you too. I refuse to listen to any more last minute persuasions. I’m not the sort of fickle girl who can be swayed by talk of comfort or money or cleaning my own chamber pot so you might as well give it a rest.”
Mary raised her hand in peace. “We don’t mean to dissuade you. We know your mind is made up and we aren’t trying to ruin you life, we promise. We just wanted to have a few words before you’re gone off to Ireland.”
Sybil look suspicious for a moment before uncrossing her arms. “All right. What did you want to say?”
Mary went over to Sybil and guided her to sit on the bed. Sitting next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders, Mary said softly, “We just want you to know that if you ever change your mind, don’t be afraid to say so.”
Sybil opened her mouth again to be angry, but Mary cut her off. “I know right now you’re sure, and you might be sure a year from now or five years from now or longer. What I’m saying is that if there’s ever a time where you’re not sure anymore, don’t be afraid to come home. We’ll both be here to help you. Even if you have ten children and have been married twenty-five years.”
“But I’m not going to feel differently, not ever,” Sybil said stubbornly.
“And I hope that’s true.” Mary wasn’t sure if she actually hoped it was true, but it was what Sybil needed to hear right now. “But people change, things happen, life can get messy and hard and people who once loved each other more than anything can become strangers. That’s all I’m saying. Maybe he’ll change, maybe you will, maybe nothing happens at all and you’re blissfully in love until you die side-by-side at one hundred years of age. Whatever the case, if you ever feel like life in Ireland, life with Tom, isn’t what you want anymore, don’t stay because you think you have nowhere to go.”
Sybil gave a frustrated sigh. “I know you mean well, but I know things aren’t going to change for Tom and I. We’re going to be in love for our whole lives. I know this with all my heart.”
Edith came over to sit on the other side of Sybil. “We know that, and we’re all very glad you’re happy. And a little jealous.” This finally got a wry smile out of Sybil. “But what Mary’s said is right. We’ll always be here for you if anything happens. Don’t worry about Papa saying ‘I told you so,’ or Mama going on about how if you’d only listened this wouldn’t be happening. Trust us to be on your side in it all and don’t worry about anything else.”
“I wish you’d be on my side now, I feel like all I’m doing is fighting everyone.” Sybil’s tone telling her sisters quite clearly that she was prepared to keep fighting.
“We are, darling.” Mary ran her hand over the back of Sybil’s shoulders. “I’ve been after Mama and Papa to be sensible about the whole thing. It’s just going to take some time.”
“They’re just worried,” chimed in Edith.
“They just want to control me, they don’t even see me as a person. Just a sort of pet they can dictate too.” Sybil temper was not about to be softened.
“And we’ll keep working at them until they come around,” Mary assured. “Please, let me know that you’ve heard what Edith and I are saying.”
Sybil sighed again. “Yes, I do hear you. I understand you think I’m being dragged off by a caveman into some untamed wilderness. But your worries are for nothing. I love Tom and we are going to be very happy together and if I never set foot in Downton again I’m sure I won’t miss it.”
“Sybil, dear, we don’t think that. We know you are going to have happiness in your life and that Tom is a good man. Edith was just extolling his virtues before you came in.” Mary hoped that some words of encouragement might mollify her sister a little.
Sybil looked at Edith. “You were?” Sybil was surprised and her voice softer.
Edith nodded. “I got to know him a little bit when he was teaching me to drive. I was telling Mary that I thought he was a good man.”
Sybil finally smiled. “You really think so? You really support us?”
Edith shrugged a bit. “I know that I wouldn’t want to lead the life your going to, but you’re stronger than I am. And I’m not worried that you’re running off with some brute who’ll mistreat you. So, yes, I suppose I do support you.”
Sybil leaned in and gave Edith a big hug, then turned to Mary and did the same. “I know you’ll adore him every bit as much as I do if you just give him a chance.”
Mary smiled. “We will. We will be coming over for the wedding and then we can meet all his family too, since now our families will be joined.”
Sybil lit up. “Are all of you coming? Last I heard Papa didn’t want the scandal of anyone attending.”
Mary shook her head. “I wouldn’t count on the others. Papa will be sulking about this for at least a year.” Edith and Mary caught each other’s eyes and exchanged a knowing – and exasperated – look. “But Edith and I will be there no matter what. Papa won’t disown all three of us. Isn’t that how the labor organizers do it? You make it where they can’t punish you all?”
“You’ll have to ask Tom, he knows all about that,” said Sybil with a grin. She leaned in and gave Mary a kiss on the cheek. “I can’t wait for you to come for the wedding.”
Mary kissed Sybil on the side of her head then stood up. “And you can’t wait any longer to pack or you’ll miss your train tomorrow. Let’s see what you’ve got that a journalists wife might wear.”
Season 4 of Downton Abbey is so rough in part because they get rid of O'Brien (the instigator) and Matthew (the mediator) at the same time then try to pivot the two Thomases into those roles and it just does not work. Tom Branson is always part of the drama, not solving it, and Thomas Barrow is mostly a player not an instigator.
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Summary: Tom needs to look at the Downton cars and make sure that things are running the way they’re supposed to be. Matthew joins him and as they work together Tom is able to share some of his grief. Set after 3x8. One-shot. Canon compliant.
A/N: In this fic Tom grew up in Dublin.
Tom had decided to stay at Downton, at least while Sybbie was little. And since that decision he’d felt a sense of peace about the whole thing which made it seem like it really was the right choice. There was, however, one thing he had been itching to do ever since he’d arrived back here for Mary’s wedding in the spring.
He needed to look at the cars.
Not just because he loved cars and had missed having them in his life every day. But also to ensure the new chauffeur was keeping them up to scratch. He’d taken great pride in his work on maintaining the Downton cars. The oil was always kept changed, the spark plugs were always clean, the breaks and hoses were always in good repair, and the paint never bore a single scratch. No one had ever had cause to complain about the way the cars looked or rode while he worked in the garage. They’d always been in tip-top shape and he’d often received, or heard Lord Grantham receive, compliments on the shiny surface and smooth running engine.
So far, he’d resisted the urge to butt into another man’s work and double check it. Not only was it discourteous, it didn’t really matter that much if he was impressed if he wasn’t staying around anyway. But now that the Crawleys had thrown him into a job as the land agent and he was going to be sticking around, he needed to have a proper look. So, one fine morning when he was otherwise unoccupied, Tom took a little stroll down to the garage.
The new chauffeur, an older fellow named Sam Stewart, wasn’t there at the moment. Tom rather thought that Carson had specifically sought out an older man to replace him in hopes of averting any more love matches between the staff and the household. The man was a good enough driver, but seemed to be perpetually a bit grumpy. A personality feature Tom also thought had been hired for specifically. Tom was a bit relieved that Sewart wasn’t there when he stepped intp the garage. He didn’t want to insult the man, but he wanted to have a good and proper look at everything.
Taking off his coat as he entered, Tom hung it on the peg by the door where he’d always hung up his chauffeur’s uniform jacket when he used to work on the cars. Then, going over to the first car, he began. Of course, the very first thing to be done was to give it a visual check. Tom walked around the vehicle with a careful eye toward any dents, scratches, chips, frays or other damage. He was also inspecting for cleanliness. Even a short drive to Ripon and back could get the car caked in dust, mud, bugs and other debris. As he made his way around the car at a deliberate pace, a few minor flaws stood out to him. A small dent in the taillight housing on the right side. A scratch on the back bumper that looked like the car had been backed into something solid. A chip in the glass headlight cover. Bugs not cleaned off the front grille. Things he would have taken care of immediately when he was the chauffeur.
Finishing his circling of the car, Tom paused to roll up his sleeves. If the outside looked this bad, the inside was certainly worse. Releasing the latch to the hood, Tom opened up the engine and peered inside. Just as he feared, things were dirty and corroded and some bits were just downright grotesque. Glancing around to make sure he was unobserved, Tom raided the chauffeur’s toolbox and got to work.
He may not be good for much, he certainly wasn’t going to be much use as a land agent, and probably even less as a father, but he knew cars. He knew cars like the back of his hand. One of his joys as a boy in Dublin was to read the magazines that detailed the engines of the latest cars and how they all worked. He’d read those magazines like they were the Bible. He and Kieran fought over a lot of things growing up sharing a too small bed in a too small room in a too small tenement, but the thing they fought over most were the car magazines.
That had just been the beginning. His first job after finishing school was in a repair shop. He’d worked fixing up bikes his entire childhood and when he got a chance to work with cars he’d jumped on it. He loved the way they worked and how fast they could go. He loved figuring out their problems and getting them running again. He loved very much how beautiful they looked when they were cleaned and polished.
He’d known all his life that he’d never be able to afford a car of his own, which is why he’d spent so long in jobs where he could work around them. The worst thing about moving to Dublin last year had been leaving the Downton cars behind. And of course, there were no cars for him to work on in the city. While he’d liked the job as a journalist well enough, it never scratched the itch for him that cars did.
Sybil had been so proud of him being a journalist and had insisted he keep writing even when things were getting thin for the two of them. Not that being a mechanic necessarily paid much better, but there had been times he’d floated the idea, but she’d always resisted it. In her mind it was “going back” but Tom never saw it that way.
Tom worked on the engine, first unfastening this or loosening that and then methodically cleaning each piece, part or component before reassembling it all. He also checked everything for wear or damage and replaced anything he thought looked dicey. Here in the garage Tom could finally relax. Finally, he knew what he was doing and what he was supposed to do. It was the first time in months, maybe even a year, that he felt like he could handle what was happening.
It all went so smoothly too. The Downton garage was well stocked with everything needed for maintaining the cars. Stewart, it seemed, hadn’t added much to the stock, but there was still plenty from Tom’s time as chauffeur. He’d taken a lot of care to make sure every needed part was put aside on the shelves. It had been a challenge more than a few times during the war years when rationing made certain components more difficult to find and more expensive. But Tom had always found a way to get what he needed.
As he worked, he began to hum a little tune. It was like he could think clearly for the first time since… he wasn’t sure. Certainly since leaving Ireland. Maybe even a bit before that. Things had been stressful and dangerous in Dublin. He wasn’t afraid of the cost of revolution, but there were times the violence scared him.
Tom continue his little chore, each small task making him feel lighter than he had in a long time. He didn’t want any part of the life he found himself stuck in, any part of it except for Sybbie. But this, going through the car piece by piece and fixing anything that was broken, this managed to help him forget his discontent.
“Am I interrupting?”
Tom looked over his shoulder to see Matthew. He gave a somewhat embarrassed smile as he’d been caught stealing someone else’s work. “No, you’re not interrupting.”
“Is Stewart about?” Matthew glanced around the garage as if hoping the chauffeur would appear.
“I’m afraid not,” said Tom. He continued on with his little task. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No, I was just going to order the car for Mary tomorrow. She wants to run into Ripon.” Matthew came over to see what Tom was doing. “Thinking about getting your old job back?”
Tom laughed. “There are days I wish I could. I like cars and I never hated working as a chauffeur.”
“You can’t hate being a land agent already,” said Matthew. “You’ve only just begun.”
“I wouldn’t say I hate it, I just don’t think I’m really cut out for it.” Tom looked over at Matthew. “I’m trying my best, but it’s a lot to take on.”
“That’s how I felt,” said Matthew. “Which is why I need your help, and even more, your alliance.”
“You have that in spades,” said Tom. “But when I look at all that’s involved with it,” Tom sighed, “I’m worried I’m going to fuck it up like I have everything else. And his lordship won’t thank me for re-bankrupting the place after you’ve just salvaged it.”
“It won’t come to that,” said Matthew, “because all of us are working together now.” Matthew clapped Tom on the shoulder then took off his own coat and rolled up his sleeves. “Why don’t you show me what you’re up to and I’ll help.”
Tom pointed to a selection of gaskets. “I was cleaning those up and replacing the worn ones. Once they have any roughness on them they need tossed.” Tom knew Matthew knew a fair bit about cars himself and Matthew went to work on the gaskets.
“Does Stewart know you’re out here doing this?” Matthew asked as he examined the gaskets for wear.
“No,” said Tom. “I expect he’ll be pretty pissed when he finds out. And I wouldn’t blame him I suppose. I’m not trying to check up on him or anything, I just had to see how the cars were doing.”
“And how are they doing?” Matthew began refitting the gaskets where they belonged.
Tom looked up and caught Matthew’s eye. The man seemed to be studying him. “A bit worse for the wear, I think.” Tom was pretty sure he was still talking about the car. “But nothing a little care won’t solve.”
Matthew nodded. “A little care can go a long way.” Finishing with the gaskets, Matthew moved on to the next thing. Tom showed him how he cleaned those parts in particular and Matthew set to the task. “Do you miss working with cars?”
Tom smiled ruefully. “Yes, though I suppose it’s not very proper of me to admit it. Working with cars seems to be the only thing I’m good at. I like being around them too. When something’s wrong with them there’s always a fix and things can go back together. That’s not how the world works, usually, and it’s nice.”
“Well said,” said Matthew. “But I think you’re selling yourself short. You’re good at plenty and you have both the ambition to learn and the humility to admit what you don’t know. It’s a rare enough combination.”
“You’re always trying to butter me up,” Tom couldn’t help but feel a little warmed by the compliments. “Are you afraid I’ll run out on you and leave you as the land agent if you don’t blow smoke up my ass?”
Matthew laughed. “My compliments are genuine, don’t you doubt that. And yes, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” Matthew finished with his chore and put everything as it should be. “I also want you to know that as much as I depend on your alliance for the good of Downton, you can also depend on me as an ally. You may not be where you want to be, but you’re not alone by any means.”
Tom began wiping the engine block down. “I’m glad of it,” said Tom. “You and Mary, and Edith too, all of you have been very kind to me.”
Matthew was quiet a minute, watching Tom wipe the extra grease and dirt from the engine. “How are you doing, really?”
Tom was quiet even longer as he focused on scrubbing out every mark. Eventually he said, “I miss her every day more than I could have ever imagined. I can’t help but think it was all my fault and that she’d still be alive if I never went anywhere near her.” Tom stopped there, he wasn’t sure he could keep talking. If he’d never fallen in love with her, never pushed her to love him back, never taken her to Ireland where things were so stressful, never gotten mixed up with things he didn’t really understand, if he hadn’t fought with her family so much, if he’d taken better care of her, maybe she’d still be alive.
Matthew nodded and looked down at the car. “I felt very much the same after Lavinia died.” There was real emotion in his voice as he spoke. “You don’t get over it, not really. You just have to find a way to live with it.”
“There are days living seems impossible,” said Tom. “But I keep on going for Sybbie’s sake.”
“You’re a good man and a good father,” said Matthew. “She’s lucky to have you to take care of her.”
“I don’t know about that.” Tom worried constantly that he was making some mistake with Sybbie. He still didn’t know how it was all supposed to work as she got older – he wanted his daughter to be Irish, not an English lady – but he was leaving those problems for a later date. “Sybil would have been such a good mother, and it grieves me when I think of all the things she’s missing out on.” Every time Sybbie did something new, Tom would wish again that Sybil was there to see it.
“Sybil would be proud of you, I know she would.” Matthew picked up a spare cloth and started cleaning alongside Tom. “You haven’t had an easy time of it and you’ve tried hard to make the best of, frankly, several terrible situations. No one can fault you for that.”
“I have you and the rest of the family to thank mostly, all I did was fuck things up in the first place.” Tom wasn’t one to swear around people like Matthew, but there was no better word to describe it. He figured Matthew wouldn’t be too shocked though, having been a soldier.
“I’m not going to say you haven’t made any mistakes,” said Matthew, “but so have we all. I will say you’re being to hard on yourself and Sybbie’s daddy deserves to be treated better.”
Tom looked up and caught Matthew’s eye. The other man was right, of course. It didn’t do Sybbie any good to have one parent dead and the other in a constant state of misery. He had already made so many mistakes with Sybil, he didn’t need to keep down that path with Sybbie, too. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“Besides,” said Matthew, in attempt to lighten the mood, “if you’re too hard on yourself it takes all the fun out of it for Robert.”
This did get a small laugh out of Tom. Robert certainly loved nothing better than deriding someone at the dinner table. Sometimes Matthew was the target, but Tom was a well worn favorite. Tom was also aware of how much Sybil’s sisters jumped in to defend him on those days he was feeling particularly low. “I’ll keep that in mind too.”
Finishing with the first car, Tom carefully lowered the hood back into place. Waving Matthew over to the second car he said, “Do you want to have a look at this one too? We’d better be quick about it though, I wouldn’t want Stewart to find us.”
Matthew nodded. “I think between the two of us we can get it taken care of in no time.”
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Summary: Edith and Mary set out to teach Tom how to dance so that he won’t be uncomfortable at the coming party. During their lessons, Edith notices how both Mary and Tom are able to relax and have a bit of fun for the first time since the deaths of their spouses. Set before the party in 4x3. One-shot. Canon compliant.
“We’re going to have to do something about Tom before the party,” said Mary as she came into Edith’s room. “We can’t let him flail about like he has been, and Granny wants him in tails as well.” Mary said all this as she pulled her gloves up over her elbows.
Edith turned from her dressing table to look at Mary. “He’s doing better about the dinner part of things. He usually uses the right fork now and he almost never gets confused about which cup is which.” Tom had made a lot of progress since landing at Downton and Edith was proud of him for how hard he was trying to fit in.
Mary sat down on Edith’s bed. “Yes, he’s coming along well, but he’s still very shy around our types and I want him to be confident instead of always worrying he’s messing up. And there will be dancing at the party, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him dance. Well, I suppose he did a bit at his wedding.” The dancing at a working-class Irish wedding was not exactly the style that was popular among the upper-classes. Back then, it had been Edith and Mary who didn’t know what to do.
“Also at the Servant’s Ball. It’s been a few years ago now, I suppose.” That had been back in the winter of ‘14. It seemed like forever ago now. Edith didn’t remember if Tom was any good at dancing, she just remembered seeing him and Sybil dance together for part of the night. Much of the dancing at the Servant’s Ball also wasn’t exactly the type one did when a duchess was part of the company. Tom probably needed some instruction on the waltzes and a few other more refined steps.
“He’s not going to have any fun at all if he’s not coached a bit,” said Mary. “I think we need to take some time tomorrow and put him through a bit of a charm school. See what he knows of dancing, teach him some of the etiquette, that sort of thing.”
“I hope you’re prepared to hold him down,” said Edith, “because that’s going to sound like torture to him.” Tom tried to put a brave face on it to her parents, but would often confide to Mary or herself how uncomfortable he was wearing dinner clothes and how much he disliked them. To be in tails and learning stuffy dance steps would surely be a trial for him.
“I am prepared to do what is necessary if it’s for his own good,” said Mary. “He doesn’t want to be embarrassed and we certainly don’t want to see him embarrassed. Besides, it’s high time he learns some of this.”
“I agree,” said Edith. “But I’m not sure he will.”
~~~~~
“Must I?” Tom pleaded when Mary and Edith told him of their plan after dinner. “Can’t I just hang to the edges and go to bed early?”
“Certainly not,” said Mary. “You’re our brother now, and part of the family, and one of the hosts. It’s your job to help everyone have a good time and besides all of that, we want you there.”
“Yes,” said Edith. “It won’t be any fun at all if you’re not part of it.” While not as antagonistic as they once were, it was still rare enough for Edith and Mary to join forces. Edith hoped that the double pressure would be enough to sway Tom.
“I can’t believe that,” said Tom. “I’m hardly the life of the party at the best of times.” Edith rather suspected that Tom could be very lively indeed, he just was never comfortable enough to be so at Downton.
“We’ll leave being the life of the thing to Rose,” said Mary. “But we won’t leave you to drown when we can teach you to swim beforehand.”
“You know it’s a good idea,” said Edith. “And I promise we’ll be gentle instructors.” She hoped that by now Tom would trust them to be kind to him and not laugh at him if he made a mistake.
“I won’t,” said Mary with a mock severity. “I expect good work if I’m to give full marks. And I’m not easy to please.”
“Are you giving me no choice?” Tom sighed.
Mary smiled. “Not at all.”
~~~~~
Edith sat at the piano and Mary stood with Tom’s arms around her. “Now remember,” said Mary as she adjusted where Tom’s hands went, “don’t be nervous. Just relax and it all goes much easier.”
Edith kept her smirk to herself. Mary sounded like a groom coaching his anxious bride on their wedding night.
“There’s so much to remember,” complained Tom, “I can hardly keep it all straight.”
“That’s why we’re practicing,” said Mary. “We’re going to do this until it’s second nature.” Mary took Tom’s hand in hers. “Don’t be afraid to touch my waist.” While watching them, Edith had noticed Tom seemed reluctant to really hold Mary properly.
“But what if I spoil your gown?” asked Tom.
“You won’t,” said Mary. “Besides, no lady minds a spoiled gown if she’s had a good dancing partner.” She smiled at Tom and Edith knew she was trying to get him to relax about it all.
“Which you will be,” Edith chimed in. “You already move very well, you just need to get used to the steps, that’s all.” Edith hoped that the encouragement would go a little way to soothing Tom’s nerves. She and Mary specifically hadn’t invited Rose to help with this because they wanted Tom to be able to relax and Rose often made everyone a little on edge.
Mary looked over at Edith. “I think we’re ready to start again. Play it at full speed this time, Tom knows the steps now.”
The look on Tom’s face told Edith he did not know the steps, but Edith started to play at full speed anyway. Sometimes it was harder to go slower because you could get a bit lost in it and forget how the steps related to the music. Edith knew the song well enough that she could look over at Mary and Tom while the danced. Edith would never have accused Mary of being a kind woman, but with Tom she very much was. Even before Sybil died, Mary had gone out of her way to be good to him.
She watched as her sister and brother-in-law moved around the room. Tom was trying not to look at his feet this time, instead he and Mary were looking in each other’s eyes as Mary muttered reminders about which step to take next. Edith hadn’t been lying when she said that Tom moved well, he had a sort of natural easiness when he danced that would make him pleasant to dance with if he learned the steps. Mary and Edith both had had their share of stiff and cardboard-like dance partners who didn’t know the first thing about moving comfortably with a partner.
As Mary and Tom continued to move around the room, Edith could see Tom’s confidence begin to grow. The steps were starting to become familiar now, and Mary’s tutelage was having an effect. Slowly, Tom’s shoulders relaxed and he held Mary a bit closer to himself. Mary smiled and Tom smiled back at her. The two seemed almost in their own little world. With all the men currently buzzing around Mary, Edith almost wondered if there wasn’t someone for her sister a little closer at hand.
The song only lasted a few minutes, and at the end of that time Mary and Tom both needed a small break. “You did really well,” said Edith. “I knew you’d pick up on this in no time.”
Tom smiled shyly. “All credit goes exclusively to my lovely instructors, I did nothing myself.”
“Pishposh,” said Mary. “I think you know more than you let on and you’re a quick study.” Mary came over to the piano bench and sat down, bumping Edith to the edge. “I’m tired, you teach him the next one, Edith.” Edith stood and Mary rifled through the sheet music they had out. “Here, let’s do a foxtrot next. We’ll have some younger ones at the party and we wouldn’t want Tom to know only old person dances.”
Edith looked at Tom who held his hands out to her somewhat bashfully. She smiled at him and stepped in close. “Don’t worry,” she said, “you’ll like the foxtrot.” Tom put his hand to her waist, but seemed hesitant to actually hold her. Edith tried to reassure him. “For this one we have to be a bit closer than a waltz.” Stepping in even closer, Edith pressed herself against Tom’s and fitted his arm around her body. She saw Tom blush slightly and felt a flush in her own face. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been this close to him before.
“Ready?” asked Mary from the piano.
“Yes,” Edith said. Mary started to play the music and Edith began coaching Tom through the steps. Tom fumbled through the whole thing a couple times, but Edith just kept encouraging him. Mary wasn’t one to play music slow, so the pair fought their way through the dance at full speed. By the third repetition, however, Tom was starting to get the hang of this one too.
“Have you got it?” Mary asked, not looking up from the sheet music.
Edith and Tom finally broke apart as Mary played the last few notes. They were both a little out of breath. “I think so,” said Edith. “Tom’s got a knack for picking things up quickly.” She shot Tom a small smile to show she was proud of him.
Tom gave her an appreciative smile in return. “You both make it very easy,” he said.
Mary stood up from the piano. “Well, I’m very glad for that because we still have quite a lot to get through before the party. We’ll take a small break, then back at it.”
Tom opened his mouth as if he were going to beg mercy and ask for no more, but Edith cut him off. “Mary’s right on this one, I’m afraid. You need a little more practice just to make sure it sinks in. I promise it will pay off, though. You’ll have such fun.”
Tom sighed. “I suppose you two know best.”
“We do,” said Mary with a smile.
The dance lessons continued for several days, and each day Tom got better at them. Edith and Mary didn’t want to overwhelm him, but tried to teach a variety so he would be ready for whatever happened. In the process, Edith rather thought Mary enjoyed herself more than she had since Matthew died. The stumbles and awkward steps made Mary laugh more than once, but she was never cruel about it, always quick to buck Tom up and get him to try again. Edith supposed the pair of them were rather in the same boat, being widowed so young. It seemed to create a bond between them, and perhaps through it Tom was able to trust Mary in a way Edith had never thought possible.
As they worked with Tom, Edith spent much of the time wondering how Michael would be at the party. He was more of a gentleman than Tom was, but he wasn’t the same sort of dyed-in-the-wool aristocrat that the Crawley’s usually associated with. She didn’t expect him to have any trouble fitting in like Tom did, but she was curious to see how well he’d blend with her family. She hoped that everything would go well and that maybe not too far in the future they might announce their engagement. She hoped that her family would like him. She was really counting on Tom to be in her corner here. Whenever Michael got his divorce – she was certain it would happen at some point – her family would probably object to the match for that reason alone. But this time she was going to be like Sybil. She wasn’t going to give up a man she loved just because her parents said “no.” This time she would have what she wanted, no matter how long she had to wait.
The day before the party, Edith and Mary had Tom practice one last time. Taking turns, they each practiced all of the dances without any interruptions or instructions. “All right,” said Tom as they began, “I’m here to be your dancing monkey.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Mary as she positioned herself in his arms. “You are a dashing and gallant figure who will preserve the honor of the house. Besides, far too often men are afraid to dance so I’ve got to have someone I can count on.”
Tom gave Mary a soft smile. “You can always count on me, I suppose. Even if it means doing this.”
Mary gave him a soft smile of her own. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate you for doing this.”
“Did you ever get tails?” asked Edith. Granny had brought it up no fewer than ten times when Edith saw her earlier that day.
“I did,” said Tom. “And I will look a right fool in them, I’m sure.”
“Nonsense,” said Mary. “You’ll cut a charming figure. You always look nice when you dress up.”
Tom shook his head with a half-smile. “I know you just tell me that so I’ll keep doing it.”
“Well, it’s not really fair if the women are the only ones who’re uncomfortable,” said Edith as she sat at the piano and opened the sheet music. “The men ought to suffer a little.”
This made Tom laugh. “Is this the modern feminism? Not about freeing women, but making men equally miserable?”
“Yes,” said Mary. “Men have had it easy for too long. It will make them appreciate women more if they have to wear uncomfortable clothes once in a while.”
Edith saw Tom look at Mary’s face, still softly smiling as he gave in to her arguments. “Very well,” he said, “I’ll do it for the equality of the sexes if for no other reason.”
“Do you need someone to help you dress?” Mary asked as Tom took her hand in his own.
Tom shook his head. “No, I can manage just fine. Besides, I wouldn’t even know what to do with someone helping me dress.”
“I can always ask Carson to help you,” said Mary. She readjusted her hand on Tom’s shoulder. The two of them being so close in height made the positions a little easier.
Tom shook his head again. “I really don’t need help. Besides, Mr. Carson is a busy man.”
“It’s just Carson for you now,” Mary reminded. “That’s the proper way to say it and it will go a long way to getting on his good side if you do things the proper way.”
Tom sighed. “I’m never going to get this right.”
“Of course you will,” said Mary. “Now let’s get started.” She glanced over her shoulder and Edith took the cue.
Edith started to play and Mary and Tom began to move across the floor. The pair moved gracefully. Mary always had easy, fluid movements. Out of the three sisters, only Sybil had been a better dancer and not by much. Tom, being more relaxed now then when they had started, also danced well. He matched Mary’s elegant steps and no longer hesitated as he moved along to the music. Edith knew the song more than by heart by now and watched them dance as she played.
It was nice to see the two of them having fun. Both of them seemed to be enjoying themselves and Edith was glad of it. Even almost two years after Sybil’s death, Tom really wasn’t the same. Maybe this party would have the effect of reminding Tom that he was still alive and still young. Mary was already brightening up a bit, though how much of that was real and how much was Mary putting on a brave face, Edith wasn’t sure. Sybil had always been able to see through Mary’s masks, but Edith never could, not in the same way.
Whatever the case, Edith hoped beyond hope that this party might give both her sister and her brother-in-law the encouragement they needed to live again and enjoy life a little. She had to admit that she worried about the both of them. She knew there wasn’t anything she could do to help either of them, they would have to get through their grief on their own, or maybe together. But without any interference from her. As she finished the song, Mary and Tom came to a standstill and stood apart from each other.
“Well done,” said Mary. “I felt like a debutante at my first ball.”
Tom blushed a little. “Just watch me forget everything and step on every foot in the house when the time comes.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Mary grabbed Tom by the upper arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re all here to support you.” Glancing over at Edith, Mary said, “Well, your turn next.”
Edith rose from the piano and changed places with Mary. “You really are doing well,” she said.
“I’m trying my best,” said Tom. Edith could see the earnestness in his eyes.
“I know,” said Edith.
“I’m beginning,” Mary called by way of warning before immediately launching into the next tune.
Tom and Edith had to jump into the dance quickly so as not to be left behind by the beat. “Thank you for taking the time to teach me all this,” said Tom. “I must say it’s been more fun than I had imagined.”
Edith smiled. “It’s been a lot of fun for me too.”
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This is one of my favorite humor scenes. Love how Tom is so anxious about his brother he starts translating his brother's words into simpler terms so the Crawleys understand. Makes me laugh every time.
