WARNING– THIS FANFICTION CONTAINS A HUGE (AND I DO MEAN HUGE) SPOILER FOR SEASON 3. I WILL NOT BE OFFENDED IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ THIS FANFICTION UNTIL YOU HAVE WATCHED SEASON 3.
These characters belong to Julian Fellows, Carnival, etc.
The Baby Of The Family
Sybil Branson was dead. Her last gift to the world was her daughter, who would be named for her mother.
Her husband, Tom and her family watched as her body convulsed uncontrollably. Then she was gone.
They wanted to believe it was simply a bad dream. They would wake up tomorrow and Sybil would be alive and bonding with her new daughter.
But they were not dreaming. Sybil was dead, her warm smile, her spontaneous laughter, her passion was all a memory.
Her elder sisters, Edith and Mary, who could never resist an opportunity to argue with each other, were silent.
Even her grandmother, the towering and sharp tongued Dowager Countess was at a loss for words.
In the servant’s quarters, they also remembered Lady Sybil. The elder servants remembered her as a vivacious and inquisitive child, always curious about the world around her. The younger servants remembered her as warm and giving, never cruel or manipulative as some of her class could be.
The next morning, Mary could not contain her tears. She had never been one to cry, even as a child. But today she cried, for the loss of youngest sister, for her niece who would never know her mother.
“Mary, my darling” Matthew held her as she cried.
“I miss her”.
“We all do, but for Tom, we must be strong. He will need all of us in the coming days”.
Mary knew that her husband was right. She would wipe her tears away and remember Sybil as she would have liked to be remembered.
The church was full. Mary and Edith sat next to each other, taking turns holding the baby. Though they didn’t speak, but they were of one mind. Their niece would never feel the loss of her mother; they would make sure that Sybil would be known to her daughter.
Robert and Tom were also of the same mind. They both loved Sybil dearly and they loved her daughter. Whatever disagreements they had, that was the past. It was time to unite, for both Sybil and her daughter.
There was nothing any of them could do now. What was done was done. Their focus was now Tom and baby Sybil, to provide and love and support that Sybil, with her last breath, wanted them to have.
What they didn’t see what the shimmering light in the corner appear and disappear. Sybil was watching over them, waiting for the day when they would join her in the next life.
Fifteen Years Later
“Sybil, dear, don’t run” Without looking up, Cora knew that the quick footsteps on the rug in the library belonged to her eldest granddaughter.
“Cora, let her be”.
“How are you, grandfather?”.
Robert would never admit it publicly, that Sybil was his favorite grandchild. His daughters made him a grandfather five times over. Mary and Matthew had three children and Edith had one, marrying Sir Anthony after he proved himself worthy of her, despite leaving her at the altar less than a year before. But Sybil was his favorite because she was the mirror image of her mother.
“I am well, my dear. Thank you for brightening an old man’s day”.
“Grandfather, you are not that old”.
Before the conversation could continue, another pair of footsteps was heard on the rug. Tom and Matthew entered, allowing the footmen to take their coats.
“Tom, there you are. How was the train?” Cora asked.
“No more than usual”.
“Sybil, your aunt has been anxious to see you. Why don’t you join her for a bit?”.
“Yes, Uncle Matthew” Sybil ran up the stairs with the same exuberant energy in which she entered the library.
“I’m glad both of you are here. Cora and I want to show you something”. Unearthed nearly a year ago was portrait painted many years ago of Mary, Edith and Sybil. It was portrait of three innocent young girls, of a simpler time and place.
No one noticed light that shimmered above them in the afternoon sun. Sybil was still with them, watching and smiling.