Downton Abbey Imagines and One Shots

Tom Branson- Nanny (c)

The first day on your job, you never imagined to be so frantic. Although you were a servant of the house, you weren't expected to stay in the servant's quarters rather having your own chambers attached to the nursery of the young Miss Sybil. The previous nanny had retired, yesterday being her last day due to having not being needed for such a time, and you were quickly put in place to fill her old shoes.

You'd never been a nanny before, and you may have embellished your application but you knew how to care for a baby, even one as young as the new born but you didn't quite know how she would suffer without her mother.

Of course, you knew of the Crawley's and the tragedy that had befallen them in the death of their youngest daughter but you wished to help where you could.

You had to rush to into the nursery having ran a little late. Granted your idea wasn't the smartest, swinging the door open at such a rate, likely terrifying the child however luckily that hadn't been the case at hand- if anything it was worse.

On the window seat there sat a man, a man you weren't too familiar with, frankly you didn't know him however he held the baby that you were expected to care for in his arms.

"Oh... I am sorry my lor- I mean sir... I mean... my apologies," you rambled. "I did not know you would be here, I did not mean to intrude."

The man looked up, with tears brimming his eyes, trying his best to hide his emotion.

"It is okay," he said quickly. "Are you new?"

Your head nodded. "Yes Sir. Y/N, sir. Miss Sybil's nanny, only started this morning. My gravest apologies for my lateness."

He raised from his place by the window, giving you the gentlest of smiles.

"There is no need to call me Sir, I am sure we shall be seeing a fair bit of each other seeing as you are caring for my daughter," he said softly. "Tom is fine, although you should probably hold off with that around the others."

"Tom," you said softly allowing his name to pass your lips. "And I assume this is Miss Sybil then?"

He couldn't help but smile in response. "Yes, this is my Sybbie."

Before he even finished with his nickname, the poor child began to wail. Tom instantly looked shocked and did his best to console her to no avail. You hesitantly held out a hand as though to gesture your help. Instantly he took your help gently placing the crying child into your arms.

You held her to your chest, softly singing the lullaby you had learnt off by heart and knew calmed another child, only hoping that it would do the same- luckily you were correct. Soon enough the child silence, falling into a peaceful slumber in your arms, allowing you to smile happy to know that she was content.

"You must be an experienced nanny, the old one could never do that. I can never do that, sometimes I worry she'll never be calm without her mother," he said softly almost solemnly.

"Actually, this is my first job as a nanny," you whispered not wanting to make the child stir.

"I can't believe that," he laughed gently.

You smiled up at him, taking your eyes away from the child you held.

"I remember that my son would cry all night, I felt the same as you did, but I tried singing that to him, and it still works to stop the tears," you said, happily thinking about your son.

"Where is your son now? Is his father caring for him?" He questioned.

Instantly your smile dropped, however you didn't wish to show how sad you truthfully were at the thought of the topic.

"My neighbour is caring for him. There is little else I could do. I can't care for him if I have no money and I cannot get money and be there," you sighed, hating that you had now taken a job to care for someone else's child when you missed so much time with your son.

"I am sorry to mention such a topic, I didn't know," he said gently, feeling apologetic for what he had brought up.

You faked a smile for him. "It is okay. My husband died before my son was born. He will turn five next week, although I doubt I will see him then. It is an impossible task to be a single parent however I am glad I can try to give my son a better life."

One of his hands moved to rest gently on your arm, not wanting to shook you or startle you.

"It is an impossible task, but support is needed, and luckily I have you. But I shall speak with Matthew. I would say I'd speak to Lord Grantham but he's more likely to listen to Matthew than I," he smiled reassuringly.

"Speak to them about what?" You questioned.

"To allow your son to stay here with you. It will save you money on the home you have in the village to house your son, and it will allow you to have more time with him. I am not happy here, but I cannot take Sybbie away from her family, and I couldn't handle missing a moment of her life. If you are to care for my daughter I cannot expect you to not be there for your son," he smiled. "What is his name?"

Your smiled grew almost painfully so. There wasn't a certainty that it would occur but you could hope, and hope was all you wanted.

"Y/S/N, after his father. I couldn't thank you more Sir- I mean Tom. If you managed that, it would mean more to me than anything anyone has done. It is true kindness. I miss my son dearly and I know it wouldn't be conventional and it'd be double the work but I needed this job and if there was a chance I could still be his mother at the same time, I would be over the moon," you grinned like a mad woman.

"I shall try my best."

~*~

Written by Charlotte.