This story takes place after the end of the first series. Four years have passed as Downton waits for their young men and the heir to return from the war... Please read and review. This is my first Downton story, so I'm eager to hear what others think...( I sincerely apologize for the use of the "horizontal ruler" between sections, but it absolutely would not let me do spacing any other way...Grrr...)
Downton Abbey – October 1918
Sybil Crawley, youngest daughter of the Earl of Grantham, slowly added the letter to the large pile on her desk, tying them with a well worn red ribbon before placing them in her desk drawer.
She moved over to the window, thinking not of the beautiful fall view outside, but of a grinning young man with sparkling blue eyes, full of life and hope for a bright future. Of four years in which she had come to care for him even more, reading of his wishes and dreams, his fears and sadness.
Let him be safe, Lord. Please, please, protect him.
Mr. Carson sighed, watching the new footman head off to his quarters for the night. Once, Mr. Bates' limp had been so awkward for all the staff, now it seemed that the only young men available were those sent home with life altering injuries. The housemaids and kitchen staff were becoming accustomed to assisting their new arrivals with heavy or strenuous tasks, even O'Brien. There simply was no other option during these difficult years.
Approaching the store room, he pulled out his inventory list, ready to help Mrs. Hughes ensure they were rationing appropriately. It was a new concept for them all to accustom themselves to, but his Lordship was determined that the household would ration the sugar, tea, coffee, soaps and other items as the government requested.
"It feels as though this war will never end, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes murmured as she unlocked the store room door.
"Indeed, Mrs. Hughes. I'm afraid these last four years have been exceedingly hard, on all of us."
Lady Mary Crawley sat quietly on the bench, the chilly air almost soothing. There wasn't a day she didn't regret her choices, that she didn't berate herself for her lack of decision-making. The hurt on Matthew's face at the Garden Party four years ago was etched in her mind, his choice to enlist the very next day an arrow into her heart.
She had been a fool. And now she waited, day after day, year after year, hoping for one more chance. She wrote to Matthew, receiving only rare polite replies in return. She instead had to rely on his letters to her father, reading his descriptions of war in horror, wondering if each promotion brought him closer to home or to death.
"Oh, Robert," Cora asked as she walked into the library, "Is it true? Was the Doctor's son named on the lists today?"
"Yes, my dear." He set down the newspaper, looking over at his beautiful wife. "I'm afraid young George was one of the casualties in Flanders."
"How awful." She shook her head sadly, thinking that she and the Dowager Countess would need to plan a visit for the following day. "Have you heard from Matthew?"
The worry clear on his face, he replied, "Not since last month." Both he and Mrs. Crawley, Matthew's mother, were anxiously awaiting letters from the young man. He was very fond of Matthew, who had become like a son to him, but also very aware that without him, Downton would be in a very real crisis. Sadly, he and Cora had not been gifted with another child since the tragic miscarriage, and finding yet another heir to care for Downton and the people who relied on it was a daunting task at best.
Mr. Bates looked up as Anna walked into the room, glad to have a chance to be alone with her, if only for a few moments. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." She sat down and smiled gratefully at him for the tea he handed her. She lowered her voice, "l had another letter for Lady Sybil today."
"From Branson?"
"Yes." She sipped her tea, her tired back enjoying the momentary rest from her busy day. "They seem to come about every week now. I feel awful if one is later than usual. She looks so heartbroken."
"It's important for the men to have someone to write to, but if he comes home, it could be a big problem."
"I know. I've tried to warn Lady Sybil, but she just smiles and hands me another letter to post." They exchanged worried glances, then he stood to head back upstairs, gently squeezing her shoulder as he passed.
As the leaves began to fall, the occupants of Downton Abbey continued their daily lives, anxiously waiting to hear of the end of a horrible war that had taken far too many of their friends and families. However, it wasn't until almost mid-November that the Earl slowly set the phone piece back in it's cradle, closing his eyes and whispering, "Thank God."
"Robert? What is it?" He looked up to see Cora in the doorway, holding her gloves, his mother close behind.
"It's over." He smiled at both them and Carson, a feeling of euphoria rising within him. "Germany is signing the armistice. The war is finally over."
"Finally that awful Kaiser is gone," the Dowager said spiritedly. "That awful man."
"Oh, I'm so relieved!" Cora smiled widely over at the Butler. "Carson, you must go tell the staff at once!"
"Yes, My Lady." He bowed, then moved as quickly as he reasonably could, overwhelmed with relief. The last years had been difficult for them all.
Lady Sybil sat on her bed, holding Tom's newest letter and reading it once again-
-they say the war will be over anyday now, and I hope they're right. I can't tell you how I long for home, for the green hills of Ireland and also the beauty of Downton. I have no right to say it, Sybil, but your letters and packages have been what keep me going.
If it's true Germany and Austria will surrender, we'll be home soon. And I won't be working as a chauffer. Like I once told you, I have bigger plans than that. Tell me you'll see me when I return?-
At the sound of her door opening, she stuffed the letter under her pillow, trying to look calmly up at her mother.
"Oh, Sybil, the very best news! The war is over!"
"Over?" At her mother's nod, she grinned, discreetly sliding her hand under the pillow and gently touching the letter before following Cora out of the room to celebrate with her family.
At one house, though, there was very little to celebrate thus far. Mrs. Crawley had not heard from her son in almost two months, and it was hard to maintain her normal cheerfulness. Matthew normally wrote every few weeks, and while letters were occasionally lost, it had never been this long before. She sat quietly in the drawing room, listening to the happy sounds outside the window, people cheering and singing, reveling in the knowledge that their sons, husbands and fathers would soon return.
Moseley opened the door, quietly announcing "Lady Mary Crawley," before leaving the room.
"Please, don't get up," Mary implored, coming to sit opposite her. "Have you heard anything at all?"
"No." She met Mary's worried gaze. "Still not a word, for almost eight weeks." She tried to smile bravely, "But, I'm sure it's just been lost in the post."
"Of course," Mary agreed immediately. "The post can be terribly bad this time of year." They both continued to sit quietly, lost in their own thoughts, comfortable with each other's company after so many years of keeping watch for any news of the vibrant, handsome young soldier.
~To Be Continued~