chapter three

Hours later we're crowded into the small library while I tell my tale.

"They turned them out of Drungool Castle, the lord and lady and all their children, and set it on fire. We agreed no violence..."

"But you have no problem with the destruction of private property", Robert spits.

"Those places are different for me." How to make him understand. "I don't see charm and gracious living. I see something terrible."

"With Drungool castle, I'd rather agree with you." The Dowager can always be counted upon for a joke at the exact right second.

"You're not helping, Mama!" Robert shouts.

"How could you do it Tom, it's terrible!" Mary shouts. God, I'm so sorry. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now but my wife.

As if Edith can read my mind, she says, "Who cares about all that! What about Sybil?"

"We decided to split up. I got the last boat tonight, so she won't be able to come until tomorrow."

"My God man! You leave a pregnant woman to fend for herself in a country not her own, while you run for it?!" Lord Grantham booms.

There's nothing he can say that will make me hate myself more than I already do. I'm the better target for the police, so we decided I needed to get out of Dublin first. But I was thinking like a political refugee, not like a husband, when I agreed to leave first. Now it's possible they have her in custody. Did I leave her behind? I suppose I did.

"Go to bed!" Robert screams, and I go up to Sybil's room. It still smells like her. Sybil, oh God Sybil, please be all right.

I lay and stare at the wall all night. Breakfast holds no interest.

It's noon when I hear the door.

"Tom?"

"Sybil!& quot;

"Tom!"

"Oh my darlin, oh my love." She's in my arms and she's safe. She and our baby.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry", I say to her again and again.

"Stop crying", whispers, wiping away my tears, "We're both safe and in your arms now."

She is in my arms, and they're iron around her. My angel. I don't think I'll ever know why she looked my way.

Later, we're interrogated by her family.

"What deal did you get?" Lady Grantham asks Robert frantically.

"The Irish authorities are willing to let him go. They don't want a martyr, and with Sybil they're afraid they may have another Maud Gonne on their hands. Or Lady Gregory."

"Lady Gregory, Countess Markievicz, why are the Irish rebels all so well born?" the Dowager asks.

"I don't know but they don't want to add Lady Sybil Crawley to their number" Robert says.

"Branson", I whisper under my breath. "Sybil Branson." But they'll never see her that way.

I knew they would let the daughter of an English Earl and Countess go. He has conveniently not mentioned me yet.

"What else?" I ask.

"You can never return to Ireland." I heard the words in my nightmares. And now they're ringing in my ears.

"That's impossible", I say simply. "I will not be kept away from Ireland."

"You'll be arrested the moment you touch dry land", he assures me. "If you stay away, they're willing to let you go."

I can hear the unspoken threat hanging in the air. He kept me free. If I throw this gift back in his face, he'll make sure Sybil and our child stay here. And move on without me.

1920

I can't think. Doctors are yelling at each other. Lord and Lady Grantham are yelling at each other. And everyone is using medical terms I don't understand.

All I know is my wife's labor isn't normal. Her life is in danger, and so is our child's. "Take me instead", I keep repeating, praying over and over.

"That's not helpful", Edith says, hearing me, and putting an arm around my shoulders. "We're not going to lose any of you. You're family." Am I?

Hours later, I hear the scream of a newborn and I come alive, jumping to my feet.

"Sybil!" I shove past the doctors and find her sitting up, but exhausted.

"You have a beautiful daughter", the Countess tells me.

"Oh my darlin, oh my love", I cry, taking Sybil in my arms, and then opening them so Lady Grantham can place my little girl in them.

My God, she's perfect.

"I want to name her Cora Maureen after our mothers", Sybil says.

"That's beautiful", I agree. Lady Grantham blushes.

"But your health?" I ask, still terrified.

"You dodged a bullet", her childhood doctor says, "Her blood pressure went down instead of climbing. She'll be just fine."

Robert's rich doctor from the right part of town rolls his eyes in the background.

Their ridiculous squabble is an irritation, but nothing can bring me down knowing my wife is safe and my baby girl is healthy.

"Let's let her sleep", the doctor suggests. As Sybil drifts off, I allow myself to be pulled away.

Months go by, and I only have eyes for my wife and my beautiful daughter. We're both growing, my daughter is growing taller, and I'm growing wider.

Sybil returns from the pharmacist one day with something in a tiny brown box. The Church does not approve of the use of those things.

"We're not ready for another child now, it's the intelligent thing to do", she insists.

"I'm uncomfortable with it", I say.

"You won't even know it's there", she laughs, kissing me, and the subject is closed. "We need to be responsible."