6A Dangerous Look.
As a rule, Lady Sybil Branson had always tried to see the best in other people...Edna Braithwaite was one of the few rare exceptions to that rule.
"I'm sure we can manage to get ready by ourselves", Sybil assured smilingly, treating the blonde haired woman to an exaggerated tone of sweetness rather than the dangerous look that she knew so many other women in her position would have given.
It had been the fifth time that week when Edna had, quite rudely and unexpectedly, entered her and Tom's bedroom without so much as a knock in forewarning, claiming that Lady Grantham had asked her to check up on the progress of the young couple in dressing for dinner.
(Which she hadn't...Sybil had checked with her mother purely out of curiosity and the hopeful belief that the whole situation was a simple misunderstanding on her part...which it hadn't been...)
The youngest of the three Crawleys fought the urge to cough loudly as her mother's lady's maid quite obviously ogled Tom's scarcely more than half dressed form in a manner that was anything but professional.
Sybil tried not to scowl but could scarcely help the grimace that appeared on her lips.
Tom glanced casually between his wife and Edna, apparently completely oblivious to the attention of the latter as he reached across the bed for his dress shirt.
"Do you need anything else?", Sybil asked, glancing away from her husband to the conniving looking blonde.
Enda sneered, turning to face the daughter of her employer as though it was the first time she had noticed her presence since entering the room. She shook her head slightly, totally unremorseful at being caught in the act of openly gawking a happily married man.
"I'm quite alright, milady."
"Hmmm it's Mrs Branson actually", Sybil said in a nonchalant but firm tone, turning away from the woman's dancing smirk to face her own reflection in the full length mirror.
She watched the blonde maid carefully out of the corner of her eye until Edna had retreated from the room. Sybil sighed deeply out of relief once she did.
"Are you alright this evenin', Love?"
"I suppose."
It wasn't often that Sybil felt a surge of possessiveness welling up inside of her...and while she was absolutely certain that she trusted her darling husband more than anyone else in the world, there was still something about that sneaky woman that gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"I think someone may have a little crush on you, darling", Sybil deadpanned after a few moments, her voice sounding quite a good deal more annoyed than she had originally intended...but she couldn't help it, not when another woman was openly and totally unapologetically objectifying the man who was both her husband and the father of her infant child.
Tom chuckled at his wife's reaction, apparently not having been quite as clueless about Edna's unwanted attention as he had originally appeared.
He made his way across the bedroom to stand behind Sybil and kissed the top of her head lovingly, both of them watching the other's reflection in the glassy surface of the mirror.
Tom waited patiently with his hands on Sybil's hips for the tension to slowly leave his wife's body.
"You know I only have eyes for you, Mrs Branson...", he told her teasingly after a few moments silence. He dipped his head a little to kiss her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. "...that I only ever have eyes for you, mo ghrá gheal. "
In that split second before his lips met her skin, Sybil's body became electrified.
The logical side of her brain knew that they hadn't much time before they would be expected downstairs, but it was a rare occasion that she could help herself when Tom looked at her in the manner in which he currently was, with his blue's eyes darkened to the deepest of navy.
It was a look that never failed to make fireworks go off underneath her skin in anticipation of being together in a way that was completely and utterly tangible, in a way that was so much more than words could ever be.
When Tom looked at her like that, she found herself forgetting all about Edna.
Sybil moaned softly as Tom's teeth and tongue collided quite masterfully with a rather sensitive spot just behind her ear. She could feel him harden at her rear even through the material of her dress.
"Mmmmh Tommm", she managed to get out, knowing full well that if he got much further with his ministrations neither of them would be able to stop themselves from tumbling back into their four poster and enthusiastically ridding one another of their dinner clothes.
The thought made heat coil at Sybil's very core...Tom Branson was her husband and she didn't need to give a damn about the wandering eyes of Edna Braithwaite.
He was hers...and now Sybil wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as two souls can be.
In that moment, she found herself lost in a heady trance-not minding very much in the slightest about their punctuality or lack of thereof...not when Tom was reaching for the buttons of her gown, beginning the task of unfastening them with record speed.
(It was a task that he was particularly well practiced at)
"I have a feeling that you're going to make us rather late for dinner, Mr Branson."
"The pleasure is all yours, Mrs Branson", Tom promised with a mischievous wink, punctuating each word with another intoxicating brush of his lips and tongue that were now tantalisingly traversing just below the collar of her dress and towards her chest.
Sybil rolled her eyes at her husband's towering self assurance but decided that she didn't feel like teasing him for it right now...not when there were so many other more enjoyable things that they could be doing. So instead, she reached for the waistband of his trousers.
"Well, you did promise to dedicate your every waking minute to my happiness, didn't you?"
Sooo...what did you think? I hope you didn't hate it too much.
Please leave me a review, let me know if you enjoyed it (or didn't) and also, if Sybil/Tom stories are your jam then you might like my Victorian AU multichapter called 'I'll be out there somewhere'. It's an 1880s AU where Sybil and Tom meet during The London Social Season. She's a debutante, newly out in society and he's a working class politician representing North Dublin.
Anyways,
I hope you all have a really lovely day!
Pearlydewdrop xx
