Notes From Sarah

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Reflections of the Sun and Moon

Downton Abbey

Bet on Me

Don't Worry, M'lady

Friendship is the Finest Balm

The Long Drive Home

Missing Out

Switching Rooms

When I Think of Home

Non-fic fannish stuff

My Downton Abbey Episode Titles

Harry Potter

Interlude

Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel

Train to London

Star Wars

The Best Pilot in the Galaxy

Coarse Talk

The Thimblerig Plot

Mirrors (series)

Damaged Mirrors Scratched Mirrors Tarnished Mirrors

Star Wars: Rebels

Behind Her Beskar (chapters below)

Kanan's Secret 1, 2, 3, 4 At Home 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Safe and Sound 1, 2, 3, 4 Passing Moments 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Adjustments 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Family Matters 1, 2, 3, 4 Truth and Consequences 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Trials and Travails 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

A Bone to Pick

Feel You There

It's Good to be Home

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too)

Days in the Wilderness (series)

This Day

You and Me Makes Us 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

X-Men

Graveside

Kitty's Unexpected Hanukkah Road Trip

Return More Than Echoes

Non-fic fannish stuff

Magneto: A Biographical Timeline, 1963-1991

When Magneto Became Romani

Zorro (1957)

A Coal Black Colt

Poinsettias for Maria

Non-fic fannish stuff

“Don’t you think,” said Violet as she sat down to tea with Cora and Isobel in her drawing room, “that it’s high time we get Branson sorted?”

“Sorted?” said Cora. “Sorted how?”

Violet exchanged a look with Isobel. “I mean, he’s still living in dear Sybil’s room.”

Cora struggled to decode Violet’s meaning. “Is there a problem with that?”

“I don’t mean to sound like a Victorian in this incredibly modern year of nineteen-twenty,” said Violet. “But our dear Sybil’s bedroom is in the ladies corridor. It’s not really appropriate for a young, unmarried man to be living there next to Edith.”

Cora sat back in her chair. She was often shocked by Violet and today was no exception. “Unmarried?” Cora repeated the word in disbelief. “I think you mean widowed, it’s hardly been any time at all since-” Cora stopped herself. She couldn’t even say it.

Violet raised a placating hand. “I know, and I don’t mean to sound heartless.”

“I think Cousin Violet is right this time,” said Isobel. “While it shouldn’t be anyone’s concern, it might create scandal for Tom and Edith and we wouldn’t want that. And I can’t imagine it’s very easy for him to go to bed each night where his wife died.”

Cora opened her mouth to say something, but nothing seemed right. Tom and Sybbie were the last connections she had to Sybil and to just throw Tom out of her room because he wasn’t married any longer just seemed cold. “I don’t know why we’d even consider moving him when he hasn’t complained any. Don’t you think it’s heartless to act like he’s some sort of bachelor when his wife just-” Cora had to stop again. She still couldn’t say it.

Violet picked up her teacup and took a sip. “I would never act like Branson is a bachelor.”

“Tom,” Cora cut in.

“Tom,” Violet corrected. “I just don’t want to see any gossip that might effect Edith come out of this. And I agree with Cousin Isobel. It’s very hard to sleep in the same bed your spouse dies in.”

Cora relented a little, knowing that Violet and Isobel both had that shared experience. One that she prayed would be many years away for her. “I think it’s too soon to bother over it all. Don’t you think moving him would just upset everyone?” Part of Cora wanted to keep everything in Sybil’s room just as it had been when she died. Tom included. A sort of shrine to the daughter she’d never hug again.

“I think it may be more upsetting to be where he is,” said Isobel. “But he hardly says anything these days so he’s certain not to complain.”

“I think,” said Violet, “that it may be better for him to start over in a new room.”

Cora did not even want to begin thinking about Tom starting over in any sense of the word. He belonged to Sybil and anything else would be quite wrong. “It’s too soon,” Cora said again, this time as a statement rather than a question. “It’s far, far too soon. Besides, he needs to be near the nursery. The bachelor’s hall is miles away from that.” That settled it for Cora, Tom couldn’t move till Sybbie was out of the nursery which would be quite a few years down the road.

“I’m not saying you have to treat him as a complete bachelor,” said Violet. “Just move him out of the women’s hall. Edith is already fighting an uphill battle as it is, she doesn’t need any whispers about her newly widowed brother-in-law.”

Cora closed her eyes and frowned. She wanted to say who would even say such things? But she knew full well who. All of their friends and neighbors in Yorkshire and elsewhere. They thrived on nasty gossip which is why every family almost made a contest of the amount of propriety they showed. Sometimes it all made her sick. “I’m not going to push him out of Sybil’s room. That’s just cruel. He’s still grieving.”

“I know,” said Isobel. “And he will be for a long time. We all will.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact,” said Violet, “that he’s still a handsome young man sleeping near the sole unmarried lady in the family. Despite his good character many will assume that there’s a fox in the henhouse.”

Normally, Cora would have said that Violet and Isobel were right. Before this, she never would have put a man without a wife in that hall. It was just so callous to her that she was supposed to go to Tom and say, all right, your wife is dead, you can’t stay here anymore. Cora took a drink of her tea just to stop herself from crying. Every day was a million reminders that Sybil was gone and not coming back. “I won’t make him give up Sybil’s room, not if he wants to stay there.” Maybe down the road a little, but not while it was all still so fresh.

“Why don’t we ask Tom,” said Isobel. “He’s the only one who could say if staying there is a source of comfort or a reminder of pain.”

Cora sighed. “It seems such a trivial thing to bother him with. I think he’ll tell us if he’s unhappy where he is.” Every time she looked at Tom all she saw was her own grief reflected in his eyes. The two of them had been holding Sybil as she died, begging for her not to go. Cora saw the light leave her daughter’s eyes a hundred times a day. And she knew Tom saw it too. He didn’t need to be bothered by details of the propriety of the hall his bedroom was situated in, he was just trying to make it through the day. Just like Cora was.

“But I don’t think he would,” said Violet. “When you lose the love of your life there is no feeling of this thing makes me unhappy. All things are unhappy. There is no happiness left in the world at all, so it would be impossible for Tom to say if he were unhappy. Because at all times he is the most unhappy he can be.”

Cora swallowed more tea hoping to swallow more of her grief down with it. “How am I even supposed to bring it up to him? He already doesn’t want to stay, this might just be the thing that chases him away. He’ll think we want him out of our lives for good. That we’re chasing him out of Sybil’s room as a prelude to chasing him out of the house.”

“It is a delicate conversation, I agree,” said Violet. “He and I have an understanding about a few things, I think I may be able to bring it up to him.”

Cora knew by understanding, Violet meant all the times she’d mercilessly bullied Tom over his dinner clothes. The poor man never stood a chance against Violet’s iron will. He now dressed for dinner without a word of complaint. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea. He’s very fragile right now,” said Cora. “You can be a bit rough on him.”

Violet held up a hand in a gesture of peace. “I promise I will be as gentle as a lamb with dear Tom. I’ll even remember to use his name.”

“Which we all know is such a great effort for you,” said Isobel.

Violet shot her a look before turning back to Cora. “I will not bully him over this, I just intend to ask him if he’d like to be elsewhere in the house. Maybe we can even find a room that’s closer to the nursery. I do hear that he spends quite a lot of time in there.”

“Can you blame him?” said Cora as she set down her teacup. “Sybbie’s all he’s got left in the world.”

“I don’t blame him,” said Violet. “I think he’s been very brave about all of this. But if we are to ever move forward we must be willing to make the changes that are necessary.”

Cora didn’t like the talk of moving forward one bit. How could she move on when her heart had been permanently fixed in time to the moment Sybil took her last breath? Her baby, her youngest daughter, gone at only twenty-four years old. “Excuse me,” Cora said, standing up and leaving the room. She couldn’t swallow back her tears and her grief any more. It had her by the throat and would not let her go.

Standing in the hall, Cora wept silently. Once again, she saw Sybil struggling for air. Writhing in pain. Dying. She heard Tom begging, please don’t leave me. Maybe if she had begged too, Sybil would have found a way to stay. Clutching her handkerchief to her face, she played that horrible night over and over again in her mind. Her baby, gone. Snatched away in the flower of her youth. Leaving behind only Tom and Sybbie. How could anyone talk of moving forward. There was no forward anymore.

Isobel came into the hall. “Cora?” she asked softly.

Cora sniffed and tried to dry her eyes. “You’ll have to give me a moment,” she said as best she could through her tears.

Isobel put a hand on her back. “Moving Tom to a different room isn’t forgetting Sybil. None of us will ever forget her.”

“Don’t you see,” said Cora through more tears, “there’s no moving forward without her. Not for me, not for Tom. She’s gone and taken us with her.”

“But there has to be a forward,” said Isobel. “For Sybbie’s sake if nothing else. She can’t grow up without her father and her grandmother. She needs you now and in every minute of the future.”

This brought a new wave of tears to Cora. Isobel was right. Sybbie couldn’t grow up in the past. It killed Cora that she had to trade one Sybil for another. When they’d buried Sybil, Cora wanted nothing more than to crawl into the grave with her. The pain of it was almost impossible to bear.

Isobel put her arm around Cora’s shoulder and guided her back into the drawing room. “If you think we should wait a little bit longer, then I think we can do that.”

Isobel looked to Violet who quickly said, “Oh, I agree. All things must be done in their proper time.”

“We will have to talk to him eventually,” said Isobel. “But I see no reason why it can’t wait awhile.”

Cora finally got her tears halfway under control. “I just don’t want to hurt him any more than he has been. I don’t want him to think we’re driving him off. Robert is already telling him he should leave, but I don’t want that. Not for Tom and not for Sybbie.” Tom leaving and taking Sybbie with him might just kill Cora. Her only grandchild, Sybil’s only daughter, gone far away somewhere. That also, she couldn’t bear.

~~~~~

Violet managed not to bring the topic up again until after the cricket match. She heard that Tom had agreed to stay on in the house and let Sybbie be raised around her aunts and uncle and grandparents and found Cora the next day after the match. “I think it’s been long enough now. Any longer and people will be talking.”

Cora had to admit that it did seem like the timing might be right. They were hardly going to scare Tom away now that he’d agreed to stay. And he’d been all but ready to move into the land agent’s cottage, so it seemed like Violet was correct. There was still a hole in Cora’s heart where Sybil was supposed to be, and she still grieved her daughter every day. Isobel had been right, too. They all had to think about the future for Sybbie’s sake. “I think I should be the one to talk to him,” said Cora. She knew just where she would find Tom too.

Coming into the nursery, Cora found Tom pacing back and forth with the baby. Sybbie was squirming a little and seemed to be trying to hang on to wakefulness while being lulled to sleep. In just a few months, Sybbie had grown so much already. Cora could tell already that she’d have the same dark looks of her mother. Tom looked up as he heard the door open. Cora put a finger to her lips and stood, watching as Tom cradled Sybbie to sleep.

Every day, from the time Sybil had announced her engagement to Tom in the drawing room a year ago, to the day that Sybil died, Cora had had her doubts about him. She had never been sure of what sort of man he was. She’d been shocked more than once at the way he thought or spoke or behaved. When he’d left Sybil in Ireland it was as if every worst fear of hers had come true. She still tried to be nice to him, for Sybil’s sake. Heaven knew there was plenty of saltiness to go around from Robert alone. And the last thing a pregnant woman needs is even more stress. But she’d been so certain then that Tom wasn’t the good man Sybil thought he was.

But now? Cora had to admit that her position had changed a bit in light of Sybil’s death. She could see how deeply Tom must have loved her just from the way he mourned her. And the way he took care of Sybbie showed her the quality of man he really was. She regretted now all the times that the family might have spent together more happily. She hoped Robert regretted it too. Maybe since he got Tom to play in his silly cricket match and Tom caught the winning ball things would be different between them.

Tom put Sybbie into her cot and Cora came to look on her little granddaughter. “I think she’s grown since yesterday,” Cora whispered.

“I think so,” said Tom. He looked over at Cora. “Were you coming here to see her? Or me?”

“I wanted to have a word with you,” said Cora. They stepped away from the cot and Cora sat down in the chair near the window. She waved for Tom to sit as well.

“What is it?” Tom looked puzzled. Cora began to second guess her decision to even bring up the room. She knew if she didn’t, though, Violet would bring it up at the first opportunity. And there was no need to blindside or embarrass Tom on this.

“I thought,” she started, even though it wasn’t really her idea. She supposed she should take ownership of it. “That since you’ve decided to stay on here at Downton, you might consider picking a different room. One that can really be your own.”

“You want me to switch rooms?” Tom didn’t seem upset by the idea, but Cora wasn’t sure he had absorbed the full meaning of leaving Sybil’s room.

“Well, traditionally the hall where you’re current room is,” Cora almost said where Sybil’s room is, but managed to stop herself, “is known as the ladies hall and all the unmarried women of the household have rooms there.”

Tom seemed to catch her drift. “And as I’m very much not an unmarried girl I really don’t belong there.”

Cora gave him a smile, she hoped he wouldn’t be offended. “We’re not trying to throw you out. I was just wondering if you might want a room in a different part of the house, that’s all. Maybe something a little more private without anyone else coming and going at all hours.” Not that Edith was coming and going all the time, but Cora thought that it sounded better if she were to make Tom feel like he was being done a favor by moving.

“I suppose I’ve rather overstayed my welcome in Sybil’s room.” Tom was never one to sugar coat things. Much to Robert’s chagrin.

“No, don’t say that,” said Cora. “Your place is here for as long as you want it to be, and I hope you want it to be forever.” Cora reached out and took one of Tom’s hands in her own. “And I will keep saying that every day until you believe me.” Cora squeezed Tom’s hand. “It’s just that Downton-”

“-Has traditions,” Tom finished her sentence. “I’m seeing that more and more. The longer I’m here it seems that everything the family does all day is to uphold tradition.”

Cora gave him a sympathetic smile. “I had that exact same thought when I first came here. You’ll get used to it after a while.” While Cora would never compare herself to a working-class Irishman, there were more than a few things they had in common as outsiders who’d come to live in the world of Downton. Cora had been confused and astounded by many of the arcane rules and customs the people of Downton lived by. She still wasn’t completely sure she’d learned them all. Every so often, Violet would surprise her with a new one even all these years later.

“And what if I don’t get used to it, or don’t want to?” Tom turned to look at Sybbie’s cot.

Cora patted the back of Tom’s hand. “Downton has a way of getting into your blood. You’ll be just like all the rest of us before you know it.”

“What a thought,” Tom said sadly.

Cora gave his hand another squeeze. “So, what do you say about the room?” She didn’t mean to push him, she just wanted to get this settled while she still had the will to do it.

Tom nodded. “It makes no difference to me.”

Cora was inwardly relieved that Tom wasn’t having a problem about it. And also a little sad. Once he moved out they’d close up Sybil’s room and it would just stand there, empty. Maybe one day in the future it could be Sybbie’s room. It was the one bright spot in the whole affair. “We have no shortage of rooms here,” said Cora. “Why don’t we take a walk through the halls and you can see which one you like.”

Standing, they both paused to look in on Sybbie who was sleeping soundly, then Tom looked into the adjoining room to let Nanny know they were leaving. Then, Cora and Tom walked through the halls and Cora showed him different rooms she thought he might like. Violet had been full of suggestions the last time they talked about it. Many of the rooms Cora suggested were large and full of big, wooden furniture. Some were large enough to have a small sitting area to one side. With more than fifty bedrooms to choose from, Cora was certain Tom had to like one of them.

“It’s too grand,” said Tom for the fifth time as Cora showed a large and well appointed room with a full canopy bed and velvet carpets. “I’m not a prince or a lord, I wouldn’t know what to do with all that extra space.”

“We don’t want you to feel like we don’t want you around,” said Cora. “You should have one of the nicer rooms that we keep for family.”

“I believe you want me around,” said Tom. The way he said you made it clear that someone – Robert – was still causing him to doubt staying. “But I don’t need a fancy room, I would feel more comfortable in a smaller one, I think.”

“Are you sure?” asked Cora. She really didn’t want him to think they were trying to give him second best.

“I am,” said Tom. “I’m no prince or lord, I won’t be insulted by having a regular room.”

Cora took Tom’s arm. “Well, if you say so. But don’t be shy to tell me if you change your mind.” Leading him down a different hall, she opened a door to a rarely used room. It was small compared to many of the others, but Cora thought it was comfortable. “What about this one? If you want we could turn one of the other closer rooms into a nursery so you wouldn’t have to be so far away from Sybbie.”

Tom stepped into the room and looked around. He went over to the large window and looked out at the view. Cora followed him looking at the walls and ceiling. The wallpaper was antique and the art on the walls probably wasn’t something a young man of the twentieth century would find appealing. Or the eighteenth century for that matter. “We can also redecorate to anything you like.”

Tom looked over from the window. “I like this one,” he said.

Cora smiled. “Then it’s yours.”

“And I’d like to do what you said, about the nursery. I’d like to be close to Sybbie.” Tom came over to where Cora was standing. “Which ones did you have in mind?”

~~~~~

Tom didn’t have much to move from one room to another. Two trips just about accomplished the task, so he didn’t bother asking any of the servants to help him. He didn’t even tell Cora he was doing it beforehand or she would have insisted on getting someone to help, and he really didn’t need it. As he walked around Sybil’s room one last time he tried to make some peace with the ghost he was half sure was there.

He remembered the first time he’d ever entered Sybil’s room. It had been the night of his planned protest against the English general after he’d failed to be conscripted. He’d left a note for Sybil explaining what he’d done and asking for her to forgive him. Of course, Anna had found the note, not Sybil, and that had thwarted his whole plan. Back then, the room seemed unbelievably big for one person. Growing up he’d had to share a room and a bed with all his brothers and both were much smaller than Sybil’s. A room like this would have been the height of luxury back then. It still would be to most people on earth. He wondered if there was something in the air at Downton that acted to dull your senses once you came upstairs. He should still be blown away by how grand and how massive everything was, but it just faded into the background anymore. He didn’t like to think this place was changing him, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do.

Going to the armoire, he opened the doors and looked inside. Sybil’s dresses still hung in there. He wasn’t sure he’d opened the armoire since she’d died. There was a faint waft of Sybil’s favorite gardenia perfume as he ran his hand over her gowns. The scent sent a cascade of grief and memory washing over him. Oh, how he missed her. If it weren’t for Sybbie, he wasn’t sure he could have survived these last months. He still cried himself to sleep almost every night. He longed to touch her and hold her one more time. Mostly he longed to hear her voice. To hear her say that he was doing the right thing.

He closed the armoire again. The time he left the note had been the first time he’d been in this room. The next time was when they’d come for Mary’s wedding. No longer the pining lover, they’d been married. Tom liked to think happily, but Downton always seemed to bring out the worst between them. They’d argued more than once in this room. He hated arguing with her. He wished now that he hadn’t. He didn’t even remember clearly what they’d fought about, just that they had. He remembered when they’d come for Mary’s wedding he’d been so afraid that Sybil would remember her old life and realize how unhappy she was with him. That she’d want to change him, or leave him.

And now she had left him. And somehow he was supposed to be part of her family now without her. The family that never wanted him in the first place. What a funny turn of events. Opening the dresser drawers he looked to see what might still be there. Half of the drawers were still filled with Sybil’s things too. Stockings and underwear and handkerchiefs and brassieres in silk and finest linen. The dainty things that made a man’s house into a woman’s home. These too, carried the faint scent of gardenias. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to think of anyone other than Sybil when he smelled it for the rest of his life.

Closing up the dresser, he went and sat at Sybil’s vanity one last time. Everything was still as she’d left it the night she’d died. He’d asked the maids not to tidy it. The brush still had strands of her hair in the bristles and her favorite earrings were laying on top where she’d taken them off before bed. There was some powder and the makeup that she thought he didn’t know she wore, along with the pair of gloves she’d worn the last time she dressed up for dinner. He didn’t know what would happen to all of this once he vacated the room. He supposed it would probably be tidied up and put away. Some of it certainly going to charity. Other bits maybe just going into the trash. He knew he should probably put aside some little trinkets for Sybbie when she was older, but he didn’t even know where to start. Maybe Mary or Edith might help him on that front.

He opened the drawer and glanced inside. There, laying on top of some forgotten hairpins and old ribbons were the pamphlets on women’s rights he’d given her so many years ago now. He picked up the one laying on top and looked inside. Sybil had taken a pencil and underlined various sections. Even now, all these years later, it warmed him to know that she’d read them. Flipping though the pages he noted which passages she marked out as important. In some places, she’d even written her own thoughts in the margins. In one place in particular the pamphlet said men have full political control of society, next to which Sybil had written in large letters, BOO! Tom laughed when he saw it. It was almost like having one last conversation with her.

Turning the pamphlet over he noticed on the back a small heart with the words Tom Branson & Sybil Crawley scrawled inside. His heart leapt when he saw it, it was like Sybil saying she loved him for the first time all over again. He felt a surge of tears threaten to take him, but he didn’t give in to them. He wanted his moments saying goodbye to not be choked by tears. He’d be crying enough later anyway.

Picking up the other pamphlets he stood from the vanity. Looking around the room he didn’t see anything else he needed to check before leaving. He looked around the room again, this time not looking for anything that was already there. “Sybil,” he said softly into the quiet, semi-dark room. “I don’t know if you’re there. I hope wherever you are is nice. I’m doing my best for Sybbie, and I hope you approve. I’m sorry for all that I put you through. I hope you know that. I’ll do better for our daughter, I promise.”

Tom paused and took a deep breath. The tears were still crowding around the edges of his voice. “I hope you know I miss you every day. And that I’ll think of you always. I promise to tell Sybbie all about you and what a good mother you would have been. If you’re still in this room, know that I’m not leaving to forget you. And I hope wherever you are you won’t forget me neither. I have to go now, but I won’t be too far away. If you ever want to say anything, know I’m always listening.”

Sybil sat sullenly next to Mary in the back seat of the car. Anna and Edith shared the front of the vehicle. After getting back on the road no one said a word for a few minutes, but Sybil knew the quiet wouldn’t last. She was trying to mentally prepare herself for what to say. She knew the sorts of things Mary was certain to bring up. Mary was rather quick to call her a baby, point out she was young and stupid, which Sybil didn’t take kindly too. She was hardly a baby anymore and she’d seen a great deal of the world through her work as a nurse. She was far more acquainted with the “real world” than Mary or Edith or anyone else in her family at this point. She just stared ahead in the dark of the car. She wouldn’t be the first one to speak.

Mary only gave her about ten minutes reprieve. “What were you thinking, Sybil? How could you do something like this?”

“Do something like what?” Sybil wasn’t about to let Mary get away with suggesting that she’d done anything horrible. Yes, she now thought that she should face the music instead of trying to sneak behind everyone’s backs, but she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong.

“Like eloping with the chauffeur. You promised me you would tell me before you did anything stupid.” Mary’s voice had that chiding older-sister tone that Sybil was beginning to hate when it came to the topic of her love life.

“You found my note, didn’t you? How else could you have found me.” Yes, Sybil had promised not to do anything stupid without telling Mary first, but marrying Tom wasn’t stupid. Besides, she’d lied so Mary would keep quiet. It wasn’t the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Leaving a note in a locked room isn’t the same thing at all,” said Mary. “You’ve been a complete child about this whole thing.”

There it was, the accusations, the diminishings, the condescension. “I’m not, and I won’t listen to you if all you’re going to do is call me names and bully me. In fact, you can let me out of the car right now and I’ll walk back to Tom and we’ll go through with eloping if you won’t treat me like a person with my own brain who knows what I’m about.” More than anything, Sybil hated being underestimated by her family because she happened to be younger than her sisters. Mary and Edith were always treated as if they were ages and ages older than her, but she was twenty-three and more than old enough to make up her own mind about both herself and the world.

“Sorry,” Mary said, Sybil was sure only to pacify her but it did work. “What I meant to say is that it seems that maybe you haven’t considered all the angles here. Maybe there’s some things you haven’t thought of, that’s all.”

“But I have thought of it, I’ve thought about everything. I’ve been thinking it all over for three years now and I don’t think I could have thought on it any more.” Sybil was trying to keep calm but she was starting to get a little wound up now.

“Three years?” Mary’s shock was clear in her tone of voice. “You never said it had been going on that long.”

“Why should I have?” said Sybil. “When all you or anyone else would do is criticize me and tell me he should be fired.”

“What else have you not told me?” Mary demanded. “He hasn’t seduced you, has he?” There was an odd note in Mary’s voice that Sybil wasn’t quite sure about. Maybe a hint of sympathy or pity. It was a note of soft concern not accusation.

“No he has not, he’s been a perfect gentleman this entire time.” Sybil wanted that to be very clear. Yes, she wanted to sleep with him, and he felt the same, but they’d agreed to wait till it was all done properly. “And I don’t think it should matter even if I did.” And she didn’t think it should matter, but she was well aware that everyone else in the world would care, she wasn’t blind to that fact.

“Are you telling me the truth?” Mary pressed. “You aren’t just telling me what I want to hear this time?”

“No, I’m not,” said Sybil. “I’m done with deception. I should have said something long ago, even. I love Tom and I will marry him and he has done nothing to give anyone pause except love someone that society says is too far above him.”

“Well, you are too far above him,” said Edith from the front seat. “All of this is madness. Papa will have him strung up by his toes when he finds out.”

“Papa is just going to have to live with it,” said Sybil. She knew it was easier said than done. Their father was going to be livid and he could hold a grudge for a very long time.

“And so are you, if Papa decides he’s never going to speak to you again,” Mary said quite bluntly. “You know that’s what’s going to happen, right? Even if you are the favorite.”

Sybil knew it all to well. It had been one of the major reasons she’d spent so long dragging her feet. She knew that to take Tom would be to leave her family, specifically Papa, in a very real and probably permanent way. That’s why it had taken her three years to think about it. Her feelings for Tom had been bubbling under the surface since the first time he’d handed her feminist political pamphlets, but the cost of those feelings had for so long kept her in check.

“I know what I risk losing, but I’ve decided that I don’t care.” That wasn’t really true either. She did care. She knew it would hurt a lot to be parted from her father and she hated the idea that he’d spend the rest of his life hating her for living hers.

“You will,” said Edith. “When you’ve had a chance to cool off and realize what you’re doing. You will care.”

“I won’t,” said Sybil. “I told you, I’ve been considering this for a long time now. I’m prepared to face the consequences if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with Tom.”

“Do you really love him?” asked Mary, pointedly. “This isn’t just some show of independence now that your nursing got taken away from you?”

Sybil was stunned by the accusation. She couldn’t believe Mary would stoop so low with her. That was the sort of cruel remark that she usually reserved for Edith. Mary was clearly very aware of how much nursing had meant to Sybil and how much she mourned her life outside of Downton and her freedom now that she wasn’t needed any longer. But none of that had anything to do with why she wanted to marry Tom. She was sure of it.

“Of course I love him, I’m going to marry him.” Sybil was still taken aback by Mary’s audacity.

“But why does it have to be now? Why can’t you wait a little longer?” Mary was trying to reason her into doing something she didn’t want to do.

“I’ve been waiting, haven’t you been listening. I’ve waited for three years. How much more thinking time does a person need? You and Carlisle know each other far less well than I know Tom. What else am I supposed to wait for?” Sybil’s voice was starting to waver, this whole argument was already exhausting. She was beginning to regret leaving with her sisters. She should have just stayed with Tom and gone through with the elopement.

“Sir Richard and I have been seeing each other publicly and everyone knows it. I haven’t been sneaking into the garage for clandestine trysts after dark.” Mary took another jab at Sybil. “How well can you really say you know Branson when all you’ve been doing for years now is nursing? You should really take some time and reconsider.”

“I’ve not been sneaking anywhere,” Sybil raised her voice because she didn’t know how else she might get through to her sisters. “Tom and I have spent loads of time together and we’ve talked about everything a person needs to talk about. I haven’t spent the last three years just daydreaming about him. I’ve gotten to know him as a person and I can’t believe I’m having to defend myself to you like this. You’re my sister-” here Sybil’s voice finally cracked and she began to cry.

She’d known she would have no allies in this matter. That had been part of the reason she wanted to elope. She knew everyone would be attacking her and it would be far easier to just show up, marriage certificate in hand, and let everyone shout themselves hoarse. It wasn’t fair how her family’s love was contingent on her behaving in a very particular way. She hated it and knew Mary hated it too. It was the reason Mary always turned to Carson when she was upset, because he would care for her unconditionally, something their parents would never do.

Once Sybil started weeping she couldn’t even think anymore to argue. She hated how bound up she was by the silly rules of her family and the silly slice of society they lived in. She wanted to be free and she wanted Tom. She missed him already and regretted ever getting into the car with her sisters. Burying her face in her hands she sobbed over the unfairness and indignity of it all.

No one said anything for a moment, but Sybil felt Mary put an arm around her. Sybil wasn’t much of a crier so it wasn’t often that Mary ever had to soothe her. “Darling, darling, it’s not as bad as all that,” said Mary at last. Sybil felt Mary’s hands petting her head and rubbing her back. “I’m not trying to attack you or Branson, I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

Sybil couldn’t respond. The tears were coming now and there was no stopping them. For three years she’d weighed every con against the sole pro of her love for Tom. For three years she’d carefully measured out every option and tested them against each other in her mind. For three long, agonizing years she’d pretended she wasn’t in love with someone because she was too afraid of what might happen if she said what was in her heart. For a long time she’d known she could never trust Mary or Edith to be the kinds of confidants that one reads about sisters being in books, so for the last three years she’d carried all of this burden alone. Not sharing even a hint with anyone. She’d been forced to lie when Mary confronted her last year and claim that she wasn’t sure she even liked Tom so that her own inner feelings were kept safe. All of it now was welling up inside her and she just couldn’t bear it.

Mary pulled Sybil into her arms and held her, rocking her gently. “Darling, don’t cry. I know it sounds like I’m against you but I promise you there’s no one more on your side than I am. Hush, darling, it will all be all right.”

Sybil raised her head from her hands and sat up from Mary’s embrace. It took a moment but she managed to catch her breath long enough to say, “I’m not giving him up. I’m not sorry for loving him and if you squeal on me to Papa before I’m ready to tell him I promise you I’ll never speak to you again for as long as I live.” Saying these things made Sybil feel calmer. She had finally drawn her line in the sand with Mary and they both knew it.

“I’m not asking you to give him up,” said Mary. “And I promise neither of us will say anything before you’re ready to.” Mary looked up at Edith. “Right, Edith?”

“Right,” said Edith.

“When it comes down to it we’ll be in your corner,” Mary continued to console. “I just need to know that you’re very, very sure about your corner, because it’s not one you can come back from easily.”

“I know all of that,” Sybil said. Her voice small and strained from the crying. “There’s nothing you can say that I’ve not thought of already, I promise. And if you really mean to be on my side then that means you have to respect me for the choices I’ve made and not try and change or control me. Just like I wouldn’t for you.”

Mary sighed. “I see that I’ve forgotten that you’ve grown up. You’ve been my darling baby sister for so long, but you aren’t her anymore. You’re a woman grown, now. One who’s fallen in love and is willing to stand by her choice no matter what.”

For the first time since seeing her sisters that night, Sybil felt an inkling of reassurance that maybe her sisters wouldn’t be totally against her in this. Sybil took her handkerchief out her pocket and began to wipe the tears off her face. She felt a mess and probably looked even worse, not that anyone could see her in the dark. “Did you say anything to Papa before you came after me?”

“No,” said Mary. “We didn’t want to worry anyone needlessly. Your secret is still safe and you can reveal it in due time.”

Sybil nodded. She felt a lot calmer now. A lot more focused. When she and Tom had taken flight earlier it had been in a heady rush. Then when reality came crashing in, in the form of her sisters, she’d been plunged into a sort of despair knowing she would have to face her parents and disappoint them horribly. Now, she could see it all clearly for the first time. She knew what she had to do, and more importantly, she knew she could do it. She wasn’t afraid of the consequences any longer. She still wasn’t sure if Mary was truly on her side or not, but she got the sense that Mary valued their relationship more than the propriety of her choice in husband. Yes. She’d return to Downton and she and Tom would announce their engagement together. No more secrets. No more hiding. Everything out in the open like it ought to be.

“So, what are we going to say if someone notices us coming back?” asked Sybil.

“That we went for a drive,” said Mary. “I’ll say I wanted you and Edith to see a special moonlit lake out in the countryside so we decided to have a little excursion, just the three of us. We haven’t had hardly any time as sisters since before the war, so I wanted to do something that was just for us.” Sometimes Sybil was astonished at how quickly Mary could come up with a plausible story. They just fell off her tongue with an easiness any lawyer would envy.

“And Anna,” said Edith from the front. “Why did she come?”

“Because how could we ever get on without her,” said Mary. Anna turned to glance in the backseat and smiled.

“If you don’t mind me saying, I think we’ll be able to keep this all hush-hush if we’re just a little careful,” said Anna. “I can take Lady Sybil’s case up the back way so it doesn’t raise any questions.”

“Very good,” said Mary. Turning back to Sybil she said, “See? Would I be bothering with any of this if I weren’t on your side?”

“I do believe you, I suppose,” said Sybil, who was holding the damp handkerchief in her hands and wringing it slowly. “And I hope you do believe me that I’m dead serious about all of this.”

“We do,” said Mary. “You’ve made that very clear just in this trip. And I promise that we won’t underestimate you anymore. That doesn’t mean we won’t disagree, but I understand you now.”

“That’s all I ask,” said Sybil. She was dead tired now, and she was certain her sisters and Anna were too. The drive was a long one and it would be quite late by the time they got home. She had a headache from crying and she was trying hard to get the look of dread on Tom’s face as he saw her leave out of her head. She knew he was probably in the depths of despair right now. She hoped he wouldn’t lose faith in her. He’d believed in her for so long, he only had to do it a little longer. She was sure he was thinking he’d lost her, that she’d turned her back on him with only the slightest pressure. It just about made her want to cry again, but she didn’t. She was too tired.

“How long until we’re home, Edith?” asked Mary. Sybil could hear the drain in her voice too.

“It’ll be a while. That inn was pretty far away.” Edith pressed the accelerator and the car climbed in speed. “But the roads are pretty empty so I’ll give it some gas for a bit, that’ll get us home faster.”