Tag: tom bellasis

**UPDATE**

Chapter Twenty-Four

Violet drummed her cane on the floor. “Something has happened and we need to get to the bottom of this!”

“But how? If Sybil won’t talk to anyone…” Edith helplessly looked around the room.

“Then we make her talk,” Violet growled.

“Granny…”
Mary gave her grandmother a look. “You very well know that it’s next to
impossible to ‘make’ Sybil do anything, especially when she’s in a mind
not to.”

“So what do you suggest?” Violet gave her granddaughter a
pointed look. “Accept defeat? Allow Mr. Bellasis to pack up his things
and leave, thus taking with him Sybil’s last hope of making a decent
marriage?”

“Oh Granny, honestly,” Mary groaned at her
grandmother’s dramatics. But the dowager countess would not be
dissuaded. Tom Bellasis was more than simply “the best-suited gentleman”
for her youngest granddaughter. He had come closer than any other man
before him. Where Sybil had turned up her nose at any of the previous
suitors presented for her consideration, Mr. Bellasis had made strides,
and in her observation of the pair over the past week, it was quite
clear that her granddaughter looked favorably upon the man. So why was
she now trying to put some distance between the two of them?

“Well,
the answer to our problem is obvious,” she said with a sigh, winning
curious and confused glances from Cora and the girls. “We shall simply
have to throw her a ball.”

Begin story here!

**title manip by angiemagz; other images not mine

HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY @magfreak

**UPDATE**

Chapter Twenty-Three

He seemed determined to stay and help, and while she told herself and
told herself that she should politely refuse and send him on his
way…she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to do it.

“Alright,”
she resolutely sighed, then felt her toes curl at what looked like a
relieved smile spread across his handsome face. “But!” she held out a
dish rag to him. “I’ll do the washing, you do the drying—it makes more sense, anyway, as you can reach the higher shelves where the glasses go.”

He
chuckled but held up his hands in a surrendering manner. “Very well,”
he agreed, and then politely stepped aside so she could move past him to
get to the sink.

Don’t look up, don’t look up, she
silently repeated, trying her hardest to keep her eyes fixed to any
place other than his face, which would be tantalizingly close when she
passed him. However, her eyes betrayed her by locking with his chest,
and she struggled to swallow a lump in her throat as her eyes caught a
glimpse of chest hair, peeking just above the open collar of his shirt.
Talk about tantalizing…

Begin story here!

**title manip by angiemagz; other images not mine

HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY @gretchensgalaxy

Planning

Because why not have some future possible “engagement plans” taking place between the Branson brothers from “A Tale of Two Twins”? ;oP

image

(manip by bet-on-us)

Tom Bellasis stepped outside and took a great gulp of fresh air, happy to be out of the stifling indoors and away from all the questions being thrown his way, questions that no one really seemed to care to hear answered, or at least not hear his answers. 

The wedding was less than a fortnight away, and yet you would think that a coronation was being planned from the way Lady Grantham, Mrs. Branson, and his mother were conducting themselves.  The mothers of the brides and grooms had somehow seized control, and no one seemed to be able to get a word in edgewise.  He was getting frustrated with all of them, especially his own mother, and so he chose in that moment to step outside and go for a walk, before he made the mistake of saying something he would later regret.

Upon stepping out, he was pleasantly surprised to find his brother, leaning over the open bonnet of a car, and dressed appropriately for such work.  “I think you had the right idea!” he called to him, and Tom Branson lifted his head and met his eyes, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“Are they at it again?”

Tom Bellasis groaned and nodded his head.  “Sarah and Sybil are holding their own protest, and have declared a ‘strike’ until all of our mothers pause to see reason.”

Tom Branson snorted at that.  “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he muttered.  “You grew up as the only child in that house; I saw the way Mam took control of the weddings of all my siblings–she’s a force to be reckoned with.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Tom Bellasis murmured, recalling the way his birth-mother so stridently argued that there needed to be a Catholic priest in attendance, alongside the Anglican vicar.  “I’m starting to think eloping would be easier.”

Tom Branson laughed and closed the bonnet.  “You know…I don’t think the girls would mind that so much.”

Tom Bellasis nodded his head in agreement.  “Perhaps we should take them up on it?” he teased.

Tom Branson’s smile faded and a look of serious contemplation crossed his identical features.  “Maybe we should…”

Tom Bellasis’ eyes widened.  “I was joking, Tom, I wasn’t being serious.”

“But why not?” Tom Branson insisted.  “I mean…we’re all over twenty-one, we can make these decisions for ourselves; what’s stopping us?”

“Our mothers,” Tom Bellasis reminded.  “And you know, as well as I, that doing so would be an unforgivable sin in their eyes.”

Tom Branson sighed and nodded his head.  “Aye, you’re right.  Still…it’s a nice thought.”

Tom Bellasis grinned and nodded.  “It is.”

“Maybe we should go on ‘strike’ too?  I mean, they can’t have a wedding without any brides or grooms?”

“But wouldn’t we then be punishing ourselves?  I mean…as infuriating as our mothers are being, I want to marry Sarah, I don’t want to wait any longer than I have to.”

“Nor do I,” his twin agreed.  Which brought them back to square one.

“Let Lady Mary deal with it,” Tom Bellasis announced.  “According to Matthew, she has a way with these things.”

Tom Branson nodded.  “Aye…and if that doesn’t work–”

“The Dowager Countess,” they both said together.

**UPDATE**

Chapter Twenty-Two

She had never truly been properly courted; the War saw to that. In her grandmother’s eyes, her so-called “formative years” had been wasted, and instead of looking for a husband, she had spent them nursing injured soldiers and helping convalescing officers recover. Of course, in her opinion, this wasn’t a “waste of her time”, yet she would admit it had left her somewhat ignorant in the rules of courtship. The summer the War started was the same summer she made her debut. During her London season she had danced with various gentlemen, she had even received a few kisses on the hands and cheek, but never a proper kiss on the lips…and she had never taken a man’s arm to “step out” as she was doing now with Tom Branson.

…She felt rather thrilled by it all, to be honest.

Begin story here!

**title manip by angiemagz; other images not mine; bottom manip by magfreak

HAPPY (belated *cough* very belated) BIRTHDAY @magfreak :oP