Tag: teaattheabbey

teaatheabbey:

                 THE LION AND THE UNICORN – A DOWNTON ABBEY AU

The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown.

The Lion beat the Unicorn all around the town.

The passing of King James III sees his only son and heir, Robert, ascend to the throne. As the old saying goes, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown” and the new King could never have anticipated that his reign would start in the shadow of a scandal so epic that it has the power to tear down one of the world’s oldest monarchies.

Married to an American divorcee, Robert sets down a path to overhaul the laws and customs which mean she would not otherwise be recognised as his Queen. Sensing that the Government has its priorities all wrong, the country begins to revolt and the debate as to whether Britain should become a republic rages once more, hitting even closer to home when the King’s youngest daughter has her eyes opened to life in the real world.

Robert is seen to be out of touch and aloof – he’s too removed from ordinary people and their ordinary problems. If the monarchy must remain, however, the general feeling is that the crown should pass to Mary, the new Princess of Wales. The people like Mary, and her marriage to a commoner was exactly what the House of Grantham needed to remain relevant in the modern world. It’s a subject which ultimately drives a wedge between the Princess and her beloved Papa, and hard sacrifices must be made for a future worth having.

Edith is the forgotten Princess. She has neither the charisma of her eldest sister nor Sybil’s wild and rebellious spirit that resonates with her subjects. There are few who would consider her to be their favourite royal, though the advantage of this is that she’s been allowed to largely fade from public view.

The thing about wallflowers though is that they should never be underestimated for they tend to see things that others may not – even if they are hiding their own deep dark secrets.

So settle down, raise a glass, and toast God Save the King…

For only divine intervention can protect him now.

Chapter One: Long Live the King is up on FF.Net

@thebarefootflapper

ANGST QUEEN. Not gonna lie, sometimes I get nervous with a few of your stories; I mean I’ll never forget how I this and this gave me “feels palpitations” (to make up a new turn of phrase), and you certainly had me on the edge of my seat during these stories, and THANKFULLY, while delving into the dark pits of angst, you also love a good happy-ending with a dash of romantic comedy :o)

While I hope you’ll find the time (and inspiration) to continue writing, at the same time I want to say thank you for what you have written

I CAN’T DECIDE! “Once Upon a December”, “Ballabile”, “Something There That Wasn’t There Before”–is it too greedy to ask all three? ;oP

:

Sorry that it took so long, and that this one was the only one I was able to manage – it’s from the STTWTB universe, set about a year or so before Tom was wounded. Enjoy and Happy Valentine’s Day!

February 1917

My Dearest Love,

Forgive me for not writing for a while and I’m sorry if my silence worried you. I’m not sure what the papers are saying back home, but everything seems to have reached a new level of chaos. Know that I am safe though, save for a few cuts and bruises but it’s nothing that time won’t heal.

Time.

How much it seems to drag here – everything is so dark, it’s difficult to distinguish between day and night sometimes. I can’t remember what a summer sky looks like and  how it is to feel the warmth of the sun on my face.

But the one thing I do remember, my darling, is you.

I remember your laugh, your smile, the way you bite your bottom lip when you concentrate as you read – I remember all the very best parts of you and it’s what keeps me going in this hell. It’s Valentine’s Day soon, so I’m told, and many of the men have already started receiving cards and gifts from their sweethearts back home…

Personally, I don’t see the point of it all – you shouldn’t need a specific day to show somebody that you love them. You should tell them always. Every single day if you can. Oh, Mo shíorghrá, I wish that I could tell you everyday. I have no idea when this letter will reach you, or that it even will, but just know that I can’t even begin to put down in words just how much I love you.

Strange, isn’t it, to think how far we’ve come?

I can’t wait for the day that this war finally ends and I can come home to you and the children. I can’t wait for us to be a proper family at last – perhaps we could even go on holiday. I’d love for you all to see Ireland. We’ll rent a cottage by the sea for at least a month, ride horses along the beach, and you and I can lie back and look at the stars once the children are tucked up in bed.

Do you know, I rather like the sound of that.

I’m hoping to have some leave soon. I can’t say when that will be, or for how long, but it gives me something to look forward to.

I miss you so very much, my darling Sybil. Give Daniel and Nora love and hugs from me, and tell them that Daddy will be home very soon.

All my love,

Tom.

-xxx-

Sybil held the letter close to her chest and sighed as she fought back her tears. He was alive and safe and it was all that she had hoped and prayed for in the seemingly endless weeks of silence. Mary had told her not to panic, reassuring her that the post was often slow and letters could sometimes get lost given that regiments were always on the move. She’d smiled and nodded in agreement but, on the inside, she couldn’t help but fret.

His letter had come in the evening post and she’d had just enough time to read it before Aunt Rosamund’s chauffeur had come to collect her. She’d agreed to have dinner with her Aunt, leaving Daniel and Nora in the care of Nanny and Orlaith for the evening. Sybil had been sick with worry for weeks but, somehow, the arrival of Tom’s letter made her feel as though she could face a social gathering and, dare she say it, perhaps even enjoy herself.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed the time when Gwen knocked at the door.

“Excuse me, Milady,” her maid said. “But there’s a delivery just arrive for you.”

Sybil furrowed her brow. “A delivery for me? At this time?”

Gwen nodded as she tried to conceal her smile. “It’s waiting for you in the library.”

Curious as to what this mystery delivery could be, Sybil hurried down to the library where, sure enough, a dozen of the most beautiful white roses were waiting on the table.

“But who on earth sent them?” she asked upon finding that there was no card with the bouquet.

“I don’t know, Milady,” replied Gwen. “But perhaps you could ask the gentleman who delivered them.”

Sybil didn’t have time to respond before a familiar face joined her in the library.

“Tom!” she practically squealed, flinging herself at her darling husband before kissing him like her life depended on it. “Is it really you?”

Tom chuckled. “No, I’m the milkman in disguise,” he teased. “Of course it’s me… I’m home.”

She stepped back and held him at arms length, taking in the sight of him just for a moment or two. She hated this damn war and everything that it allegedly stood for (and for taking her husband from her more than anything), but even Sybil had to admit that Tom looked incredibly handsome in his uniform. His shoulders had become broader since being enlisted in the army, if such a thing were possible, but he still looked thinner and paler than he had when she’d last seen him and there was a thin pink scar visible on his cheekbone just below his right eye. She reached out to touch his face, running her thumb across the scar as her eyes met hers.

“You brought flowers?”

“White roses. I know how much you hate the red ones.”

Sybil nodded in agreement. “And the white…”

“Reminds you of home,” he smiled. “Yes, I remember.”

She kissed him again, softly this time, and smiled to herself as he held her close.

“How long do you have?”

“Four days,” he replied. “Though I’ve spend almost two of those travelling so I’ll have to leave London this time tomorrow.”

“God knows that every second I get to spend with you is a blessing,” she said. “So I suppose it’s enough. But… I’m supposed to be having dinner with Aunt Rosamund.”

Tom shook his head. “No you aren’t.”

“Tom, I can’t just not show up.”

He laughed again, making her realise just how much she’d missed that sound. “I telephoned ahead the second I arrived in Dover,” he said. “Everything’s already sorted. You’re having dinner with me and then, afterwards, I thought we could have a bottle or two of champagne, some strawberries, and that you and I could relive the night we were properly married.”

“Why, Mr Branson, do you plan to seduce me?”

“It’s Lieutenant, actually,” he teased. “And I absolutely do.”

“I do,” she sighed. “The last time you said that, I doubted that you really meant it.”

He reached out and brushed a loose curl from her face. “And do you still doubt it now?”

Sybil shook her head and clung to the lapels of his tunic. “No,” she whispered. “Absolutely not.”

Tom wrapped his arms around his wife and held her in a sighed embrace, almost frightened that she’d disappear if he let her go again. ‘Then that’s all I need to know,” he replied. “I may have said that I don’t care for it much but, happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

He kissed her then, slowly, passionately, pouring whatever was left of his fractured soul into that kiss. He felt her, warm, soft, alive, against him and, for the first time in so very long, it was enough to make him forget about the hell that he’d left behind in France.

He had twenty-four hours in which to live a perfectly normal and happy life…

And, sweeping his wife up into his arms and carrying her to their little nook, Tom decided that he wasn’t going to waste a single second of it.

teaatheabbey:

                    CHAPTER THREE OF SPARE BRIDES – CROSSED WIRES

“I do envy you sometimes,” Edith sighed as she looked around the small parlour of Sybil’s modest London flat having arrived to join she and Rose for tea. “All this freedom… though I do still wonder how on Earth you managed to convince Papa to let you do it.”

“I’m afraid Mama can take credit for that,” replied Sybil. “It didn’t make sense for my to stay in Grantham House all by myself and I feel as though I just would have been a burden on Aunt Rosamund. I’m surprised that you haven’t followed suit though… I thought your Mr Gregson had a place not far from here?”

“He did,” Edith sighed wistfully. “Though it had to be sold to cover the death duties.”

“Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t think.”

“Don’t be,” replied Edith. “It isn’t your doing.”

“Does it not get lonely living all by yourself though?” asked Rose, changing the subject in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Sybil shook her head. “I don’t mind being on my own,” she replied. “In fact, I rather enjoy it. It wasn’t until I moved in here that I realised I hadn’t had a moment of true privacy in my whole life. I have many friends and acquaintances whom I can call on whenever I choose, Aunt Rosamund isn’t too far away, and now that you and Atticus are settled in London, I hope to see more of you too.”

“Not to mention the dozens of admirers practically throwing themselves at your feet,” Rose smirked from behind her teacup. “I still can’t understand why at least one one of them hasn’t caught your eye yet.”

Sybil laughed. “I’ve said it so many times before, but I have no intention of ever being married, and it would take someone rather special indeed to change my mind. Now, if I were in love, then that might be different, but I’ve never been in love nor is finding it for myself really my top priority at the moment… as for children, well, I have no doubt that Mary will go on to have a full brood and the beauty of that is that I can give them back at the end of the day.”

teaatheabbey:

             CHAPTER TWO OF SPARE BRIDES – THE MIDDLE MAN

The Napiers were, unsurprisingly, as charming as ever. In Clarissa Napier, she had found something of a confidant and mentor during her season – following an ill advised visit to a vote count in Ripon when she was eighteen (one in which she’d ended up unconscious and almost costing the poor chauffeur his job), her father had wanted to put a stop to her politics but, as with most other things when it came to his youngest daughter, Robert had been brought around with just a little persuasion from his wife, had agreed to allow her to continue on the condition she was chaperoned at all times. With a Viscountess at her side, it was impossible for Sybil to get into trouble, and so it was that she’d swapped rallies and canvassing for committee meetings and tea – it wasn’t ideal in Sybil’s world, but it was a compromise…

And it hadn’t lasted.

Now that she was a free and independent woman, she had joined the cause once more. Whilst some women had the vote, it still wasn’t enough, and Sybil had once again joined the cause, a common interest that even to this day she still shared with Clarissa.

“Oh I wish I had more time to get involved,” Sybil lamented as the two women conversed in the drawing room before dinner. “But my studies have been keeping me busy. So many seem to have given up now that some have the vote.”

Clarissa smiled fondly at her young protege. “The day will come when everyone will, I’m certain of it,” she said. “Especially while their are still women like you pushing for change. It’s an admirable cause.”

“My father still doesn’t think so,” replied Sybil. “And Granny is more convinced than ever that all I need is the right man to come along and change my opinions and priorities.”

“And what do you think?”

“That the right man would never ask me to.”

“You know, Evelyn is a strong supporter of suffrage too.”

“I should hope so, with a mother such as you bringing him up.”

Clarissa laughed. “He’s to spend an awful lot more time in London in the coming months,” said the Viscountess. “Perhaps you could introduce him to some like-minded people?”

Sybil nodded. “I’ve known Evelyn since I was a girl,” she replied. “He’d be most welcome.”

Clarissa smiled to herself as she took a sip of her cocktail…

Sybil, it seemed, wasn’t the only person set on playing matchmaker for her son.

Here’s a play on gender stereotypes: Tom is a newly elected labor minister, and Sybil is on his staff as one of his security guards ;oP

:

I kind of played with it a bit because who doesn’t love a ‘First Daughter’ style secret bodyguard AU?

Following a landslide Labor victory after over a decade of Tory government, up-and-coming MP Tom Branson is selected by the new Prime Minister to join the cabinet as Secretary of State for Northern Ireland. 

It’s a tougher job than he ever could have imagined, though not without it’s perks. His personal secretary, Sybil, is a pretty girl with a sharp mind and a wicked sense of humour. She’s the one responsible for making sure he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be and when, for managing his diary and, of course, ensuring that there’s a constant supply of tea and biscuits coming his way. He thinks about asking her out for a drink, regardless of how inappropriate that might be, though he never actually gets the chance…

Tensions are beginning to mount again between the republicans and the unionists, and the particular affiliations of some of Tom’s more radical family members put not only his job at risk, but potentially his life also.

So maybe it’s a good thing indeed that there might just be more to the girl who brings him tea.  

It’s a week before Christmas, just days to go until Mary and Matthew’s wedding and the last minute preparations are in full swing. Sybil has finished work for the holidays at long last and she, Mary, Edith and Mary’s oldest friend, Anna, are having the final fittings done on their dresses. She’s standing in front of the mirror, trying her best to keep still as the seamstress sticks pins in the hem of the silver grey gown.

“I didn’t tell you, did I,” Anna says as she hands her another glass of champagne. “Guess who I saw coming out of Tiffany’s… with a bag.”

“Who?”

“Tom.”

Sybil chokes as she swallows a mouthful of champagne. “Tom? Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Anna replies. “I waved, but I don’t think he saw me.”

“The idiot,” she says quietly to herself.

“What?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but I think he’s going to propose. I can’t explain why… I just have this feeling. Stupid, I know…”

“It’s not stupid,” Mary smiles. “I thought the same about Matthew.”

“I need to drop Michael a few subtle hints,” Edith pipes up, happy for Sybil, but a tiny little bit jealous at the same time.

Mary arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow and looks at her sister over her shoulder. “Yes but, Edith darling, the first thing you need to do it very bluntly tell him that he has to get a divorce.”

Edith doesn’t reply – she learnt long ago that it’s better to say nothing than admit that Mary’s right.

“He said that he wants to start a family with me but not until we’re married. He’s just waiting for the perfect moment and told me that he’s got me something really special for Christmas,” she tells them. “Do you see the logic?”

Mary nods. “And why else would a man even half as in love as him go to Tiffany’s at this time of year?”

–from “My True Love Gave to Me” by thebarefootflapper

25 days of Bransons CHRISTMAS fanfic moments
Day 8

teaatheabbey:

          WHERE ONCE WE WATCHED THE SMALL FREE BIRDS FLY
                               CHAPTER FOUR: A HEAVY BURDEN

She didn’t see him the following day, or the day after that even. Instead, she locked herself in the sanctuary of her bedroom and slept for almost three days straight.

At just after nine on the third day, she was woken by a knock at the door. Groggily, she sat up and granted permission for whoever it was to enter. She was pleasantly surprise to see that it was Mary.

“I had Mrs Patmore make you up a tray,” Mary said, closing the door behind her.

“Thank you, but I’m not really hungry.”

“Darling, you must be,” replied Mary, setting the tray down and sitting beside her sister. “You’ve barely touched a thing since you got home.”

“I suppose I’m just too tired,” she said, picking at a piece of toast. “How’s Matthew?”

Mary sighed. “It’s hard to tell. Clarkson thinks there might be a problem with his legs.”

Probable Spinal Damage

“I’m no doctor,” Sybil said. “But the thought had crossed my mind… how has he taken it?”

“Not well, I think it will be a while before he completely comes to terms with what it will mean.”

Sybil nodded and quietly chewed on her toast, immediately understanding what her sister meant. “This isn’t the end of his life, though perhaps just the start of a different one,” she replied. “Does Lavinia know?”

“She came up from London,” Mary replied. “He’s called off the engagement.”

“How terrible. Did he say why?”

“Lavinia said something along the lines of he felt he had to set her free,” said Mary. “He didn’t feel as though he could tie her down, not without… well, without a proper marriage.”

It took Sybil a moment or two to realise what Mary was alluding to, but she soon caught the meaning. “Oh, I see,” she said. “How very noble… how very Matthew.”

Ordinarily, Sybil’s observation probably would have brought a smile to Mary’s face though there really didn’t seem much to smile about at the moment. “I do feel sorry for her though. Lavinia’s a nice girl… Though, on the subject of marriage, there’s something else I think you should know.”

Sybil felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, but decided to ask anyway. “Oh?”

“I’ve accepted Sir Richard’s proposal.”

For the life of her, Sybil still could’t understand what her sister saw in that man. Yes, he was rich beyond reason, but Sybil was of firm belief that a marriage should be founded upon more than just money.

Besides, the man was absolutely odious.

She’d only encountered him on a handful of occasions, but there was just something about him that she didn’t like. Apparently, Mary had her reasons for refusing Matthew’s proposal though she seemed somewhat reluctant to share them even with her youngest sister (whom everyone knew to be her obvious favourite), but why on earth would she settle for someone like Sir Richard?

Perhaps she saw something in him that nobody else did and Sybil could only hope that, in time, she would come to see it too.

Read Chapter Four here; or

Start from the beginning here

teaatheabbey:

               WHERE ONCE WE WATCHED THE SMALL FREE BIRDS FLY          
           CHAPTER THREE – LOVE, LUST, AND THE THINGS INBETWEEN

She’d heard of young women such as herself who had taken their parents’ servants as lovers, using them as a means to an end and a way of curing their boredom. They were toys, the playthings of an elite class who saw these men as nothing more than an act of rebellion…

Oh how rebellious indeed it would be to indulge her fantasies with the family chauffeur.

But, again, it all boiled down to the fact that Tom was so much more than that and, as such, he deserved better. Tom Branson was a man who had so much love to give and it was only right that he was loved properly in return.

Once upon a time, she might have been the girl to do just that.

But then the war came, and she was no longer that same girl he fell in love with. Somehow, it just didn’t feel right, but then what did anymore? In that moment, she promised herself that she wouldn’t make any rash decisions – after so many months of sheer hell, it was going to take an awful long time to get back to normality. She’d read enough books to know that matters of the heart were not ones to be considered lightly, but nowhere in her beloved novels could she ever recall learning what to do in such a precarious situation as this…

She would take each day as it came at her, deciding that she’d know deep in her heart when the time was right and her mind was made up.

Read Chapter Three here; or 

Start from the beginning here