Hey! I'm very sorry for the long wait, but I needed some time to make out how I wanted to continue. The path I finally followed was actually the first idea I had, but I was slightly unsure about how realistic it was and if I would know how to write it - maybe that sounds stupid but all fellow writers know about our foolish insecurities:)
But anyway, finally I decided that I liked the idea just too much not to use it, so I sat to work and wrote it and rewrote it and rewrote it and now I'm just going to publish it because I'm never going to stop rewriting if I don't. Not sure if the emotional changes are comprehensible but I need to stop lamenting now.
Ok, so, I hope you like the idea as well and find it as amusing and cute as I did. Let's just say we're up for a little more Sybbie-action!
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"Mrs Hughes!" It was barely two minutes after she had forced Mrs Patmore back into her kitchen under the assurance that Mr Carson should soon be back from his rounds, that Mrs Hughes heard to her great astounding the excited and cheerful voice of Sybbie Branson echoing over the grass of the Downton grounds. She turned her head in delight and spotted the little girl as she neared her from the house, running ahead impatiently, soon followed by her father and, indeed, Mr Carson.
"Good day, Miss Sybbie", the housekeeper greeted her little visitor with a wide smile. "How nice to see you out here."
"We came to see you", the girl told her proudly. "Mr Carson told Papa and me that you were here", she explained and with shining blue eyes threw a glance at the two men as they reached her.
"Oh" Mrs Hughes raised her eyebrows, pleasantly surprised, "it's very nice of you and your Papa to come." She shared a smile with Tom while Sybbie mounted the bench beside her.
"You're not too ill, are you?", she asked, suddenly very serious, scrutinizing her from head to toe as if to spot every visible sign of possible sickness.
"Oh no, don't you worry, Mylady", the housekeeper told her warmly, touched by the little one's concern. "I'm sure I'll be back to work before you know it." That seemed to be enough for Miss Sybbie, the radiant smile returned to her face and she slightly wobbled up and down to catalyse her happiness at her favourite staff member's assurance.
"I like your hair", she then declared cheerfully, and completely carelessly torn out of context as only a child is able to manage. "It's pretty like this", she went on, stroking over the unusual braid with her fingers. The atmosphere she radiated was so sweet and carefree that her next words, though spoken almost absent-mindedly and without intending to cause the following effect, they startled the three adults even more. "Mr Carson thinks you're pretty too, he told me."
Mr Branson looked between the two of them, Mrs Hughes between shock and astonishment, perhaps a hint of disbelief, Mr Carson not even describable - surprise, shock - horror, almost, -and dawning embarrassment. Tom felt some of those emotions as well - surprise, mostly - but clearly not in equal measure as the Butler and housekeeper, so no one should wonder that he was the first to regain his consciousness enough to speak reasonably composed.
"Alright", he interfered and cleared his throat, hoping to sound not too alarmed to unsettle the other two further, "time to search the others. Nanny should be out here somewhere with George and Marigold. Come on, Sybbie", he said, believing it would be best if he withdrew from the scene, allowed them space and privacy. One look at Mr Carson was sufficient to know that the poor man was already in enough of a state, without needing anyone to witness it. But his daughter, after she had unintentionally caused the whole situation and still unaware of having caused anything at all, foiled his plan as innocently as ever.
Tom would have had to smile at her, at Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson, at the whole scene, if the other man's ears wouldn't have been so revealingly red. If he was honest with himself, Tom even enjoyed this a little, for several reasons. Seeing the always so composed and dignified Butler a little unsettled was quite...nice. He knew he had a softer side underneath the Butler-persona, but he had barely ever actually seen it, he didn't really know him...the only thing that usually told him to believe that Mr Carson was not as unapproachable as it seemed was his instinct and what he had been told by Mary and Mrs Hughes.
Mrs Hughes. He knew her, though, he trusted her. And she had always had a special connection to the Butler Tom couldn't quite understand. She was such a warm, open and kind woman, why should she care for someone who seemed to be the complete opposite? She wouldn't, so the reasonable conclusion was that Mr Carson had a different side to him he knew to hide quite successfully, a side he showed only to a selected group of people, above all his best friend and long-time colleague, the witty Scottish housekeeper. Tom had had his suspicions for quite some time now, had looked for little hints if there could be more than simple friendship between the two heads of staff and could also report that he had not seldom found what he was looking for. The last few days had been especially satisfying in this matter, the time Carson took off to look after her the first day she needed to stay in bed, how distracted he had been when he was working, the concern he had shown when asked about her well-being, and now this. Mr Carson thinks you're pretty, too, Sybbies voice echoed in his head and he just managed to suppress an amused but fond smile when the real voice of his daughter brought him back from his thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
I've seen Perfection
FanfictionWhen Mrs Hughes takes ill, Mr Carson doesn't know what could be the matter with him and it annoys him beyond words. He can't concentrate at work, his thoughts drift off all the time and he even delegates supper to Thomas Barrow. Barrow! But it is on...
