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Saving Face

Tom Branson x Reader

Words: 2580

Part One of Two

Summary: Married for nearly a year, the reader and her husband return to her home and family for a dinner at her sister’s invitation. Tom faces judgment and becomes a point of ridicule. Everything halts when the reader falls deathly ill.

Notes: This one is definitely hard to write, but you know me I love putting my favorite boys through hell. I love Sybil and Tom, but I really want to write some imagines for him, so in this case, Sybil is just the supportive sister. I hope you enjoy! I also decided to make him a journalist in this since that’s what he does when he goes back to Ireland. (P.S. This was getting insanely long, so I split it into two parts!)

You could tell he was nervous by the way he wrung his hands as you walked. The house had never been more intimidating than it was at this moment. You took one of your husband’s hands in yours and gave him a small reassuring smile.

“She said we would be welcome.” You reminded him, though you also feared that your sister had been too optimistic in her letter.

“Maybe she’s forgotten how it was when we left.” He argued, looking up at the grand estate that he had once been a servant to.

“They don’t hate us, Tom.” He gave you a look.

“They don’t hate you.” You sighed, pausing halfway up the path to the door. It had been almost a year now that you had been at Downton. Almost a year without seeing your family. But it had also been almost a year since you’d married the love of your life.

“I’m sure there will be other guests at dinner tonight, as well as tomorrow,” You started slowly. “And while my family has hopefully adjusted, others will not have.” You knew how some of the other women in society could be. They made Mary look like the goddess of hospitality. Surely, Sybil wouldn’t have invited them, but that didn’t mean that your grandmother wouldn’t.

“I have somewhat prepared myself for this.” He laughed humorously. Your fingers gently grazed his cheek as you made sure his hair was in place. The first face to greet you was at least a friendly one. Sybil burst out the door before you even had the chance to ring.

“It’s so good of you to come!” She exclaimed, wrapping you in a tight hug. This of course was much warmer than a traditional English greeting, but Sybil was anything but traditional. She turned to Tom, her smile welcoming and kind. “I know this must be strange for you, but it means so much to me that you’re here.” He gave her a small nod.

“We wouldn’t miss it, m’lady.” He tried to expel any expression of nervousness from his face, but his smile was still an uneasy one. At least he had an ally in Sybil. You took his arm and Sybil led you into the house. You thought you would feel some great sense of nostalgia. The feeling of being home again after so long. But stepping into the grand entrance only made you realize that anywhere would be home so long as you were by his side.

Servants scurried around you, some slowing down to gawk. Tom avoided their gaze. You hadn’t even thought how strange it would be for him to be served by the people that he once worked with. Mr. Carson was quick to shoo them all away, but their stares lingered in Tom’s thoughts.

“They are expecting you in the drawing room, Lady Y/N.” Mr. Carson kept his tone neutral, though you could sense his disapproval. He was one of the most offended by your match with Tom, not that he’d ever told you. You knew it was his love of the family that drove his opposition, but you found yourself still wishing for his approval. Sybil paused at the door.

“Are you ready?” Her concern was sincere which made Tom feel a little better.

“I suppose it’s too late to turn around and run.” He whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

“I’m afraid so.” With a nod of permission from you, Sybil instructed the footman to open the door. The room was lively with conversation until the moment you stepped inside. Your heart pounded, feeling every person’s eyes staring at you. You were right. It wasn’t just your family. Your grandmother must have invited the Winstons- a family of women your age she’d been trying to persuade you and Sybil to befriend for years. You’d both always found them haughty and arrogant. They definitely weren’t the first family you’d have chosen to introduce Tom to, but you refused to fear them.

Tom lingered in the doorway, regretting ever getting on that train. It wasn’t that he was afraid for his own pride, but for yours. To see you ashamed of him would surely be his undoing. You turned back to him with a look of more adoration than he felt he deserved. When you held out your hand, he didn’t hesitate to take it, fully stepping into the room.

Your mother was the first to approach you, taking your hands in hers with a smile.

“How was the journey, dear?” She asked. There was an awkwardness to her tone, but not a hostile one.

“It was lovely.” You left out the part about the train car being a bit crowded. Not riding first class was something you still had to get used to. There was a child who freely ran around the car and forgot to cover his mouth when he coughed. A small annoyance amongst a thousand other happy memories. Falling asleep on Tom’s shoulder or feeling his finger trace the lines on your palm while you stared out the window watching the world go by. You felt his hand tighten its grip on yours when your mother turned to him.

“I trust your occupation in Ireland has been going well?”

“The editor I’ve been writing for seems to think I have potential.” He knew it must sound so ridiculous to someone of her stature. You put a hand on his arm and gave him a smile brighter than the sun.

“Tom is being modest, mama.” You beamed. “Mr. Byrne tells me he doesn’t know what he’d do without him. He loves Tom’s ideals and thoughts for a new future.” You heard a giggle from across the room. Abigail Winston tried to conceal her smirk by bringing her fingers to her lips. She was by far the vilest of the girls and you expected she was thinking of plenty of ways to humiliate you and your husband.

You couldn’t help but notice the way your father avoided your gaze. While you didn’t elope, the blessing he gave Tom was a reluctant one. You had given him very little choice and you knew that it was only by your mother’s insistence that he allow you to marry. Thankfully, Matthew was quick to strike a conversation with Tom. Matthew seemed to be another friend Tom could rely upon. After all, before learning of his inheritance, Matthew was a simple lawyer.

Carson announced that dinner was ready and everyone filed into the dining room. Tom sat to your right and Mary took the seat to your left. Of every person there, perhaps you feared her the most. Your relationship was complicated, to say the least, and when you left to marry Tom, you knew that she disapproved. When you were a young girl, you idolized your eldest sister and losing her respect had hurt you greatly.

“I hope you’re ready to face the wolves.” She said, quietly enough that only you would hear. You glanced at her, allowing your nervousness to show.

“I just wish I could make him feel like he’s not below us.” He barely touched his food, taking only the smallest bites in fear of looking improper.

“That may be difficult considering he used to work for us.” You gave her a look.

“I don’t think we are above anyone who has worked or currently works for us, Mary.” She chuckled at your defensive tone.

“I know that’s what you believe, dear, but I’m afraid I’m not the one you have to convince.” She nodded her head towards Abigail and her sister Margaret, both gossiping and giggling like school children.

“Tell us, Sybil has it been a strange adjustment?” Margaret began. “You kept so busy as a nurse during the war and now things have settled down.”

“I do my part where I can.” She put on a gratuitous smile and you envied her ability to maintain so hospitable. “I don’t think I could ever go back to what it was like before the war. Too many things have changed.”

“Indeed.” Margaret agreed, her gaze sliding over to you. “So many things have changed.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly feeling very warm. You motioned over to Mr. Carson.

“Could you possibly move the candelabra?” You asked quietly. He gave you a strange look.

“Are you feeling alright, my lady?” He looked genuinely worried, which caught Tom’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” Your husband asked. You laughed as though they were both being silly.

“I’m afraid my dress is a little heavy for the weather and I’m getting a little warm, that’s all.” You assured them. Mr. Carson removed the burning candles, but you felt little relief. You felt sweat bead across your forehead, but dabbing it with a handkerchief would draw too much attention.

“Lady Y/N,” Abigail stared you down with a cold gaze, “Or is it Mrs. Branson now? I never asked which you preferred.” Her words were civilized, but her tone was accusatory and cruel. Your lips stretched into a tight smile.

“You may call me whatever you like.” She leaned over to her sister but made sure you could still hear.

“Perhaps she wishes to be called ‘Lassie’.” They shared a laugh before she continued. “I meant to ask you where you get your shoes?”

“My what?” It was such an odd question considering she had beyond the means to find suitable footwear.

“I couldn’t help but notice how your shoes are in perfect condition.” By the smug smile on her face, you knew what direction she was taking this. “I’m afraid mine wear out terribly quickly with all of the walking I do to get to and from town. Wouldn’t you agree, Margaret.” Her sister nodded with an amused glint in her eye.

“Abigail, I’m sure you’re boring the gentlemen with such talk.” Lord Winston scolded, but she had an agenda she fully intended to keep.

“Then again, I suppose not all of us have chauffeurs that are so eager to please.”

You pushed away from the table so suddenly that it made you dizzy. The plates rattled from the force of your motion and the entire room went deadly silent. The men in the room were too baffled by the unexpected motion that they seemed to forget to stand with you. Abigail’s face twisted with wicked triumph .

“Oh dear, I do hope I haven’t offended you.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to step out for some fresh air.” You muttered, rushing out of the room. Tom and Sybil were quick to follow while the rest of the party sat in shocked silence.

“I’m sorry if this seems rude, but I’m quite frankly surprised that she brought him here.” Margaret noted, snickering at her sister’s comment.

“Must you both be so wretched?” Mary blurted and joined her sister to chase you.

“My love, slow down. Please.” Tom urged you, but you were out the door without a second thought.

“We’re going home.” You fervently tried to brush the tears as they fell. Your blood felt as if it were boiling and even the brisk night air failed to cool you.

“Y/N wait!” Sybil pleaded, Mary catching up behind her. “We’ll ask them to leave. I didn’t wish them to be here anyway, but please don’t go like this.”

“I’ll gladly throw Abigail out myself.” Mary added. You were almost surprised to see her taking your side but you were too emotional to care.

“I can’t do this.” You stopped and turned to them, the tears on your cheeks glistening in the moonlight. Tom could feel his heart crack seeing you like this. You saw the hurt in his expression and knew he thought this was his fault. But he couldn’t be more wrong. “I cannot play this game anymore. I refuse to dance around my feelings for the sake of keeping face. I thought I’d escaped all of the fake smiles and forced politeness, but life with Tom has made me forget how horrible it all is.”

“Honestly, Y/N, what did you expect to happen?” Mary exasperated.

“Mary.” Sybil gasped.

“Things have changed, Y/N.” Mary stepped towards you. “You made a choice and you knew the consequences. You chose a life of love, but it is also an uneven path to follow. I’ve always respected your courage, don’t disappoint me now by running away.” You softened. She respected you? Tom placed a hand on your cheek, his eyes grounding you enough to stop your hysterics.

“My darling, if you want to go now, we’ll go.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “But I can face them if you can.” The heat spreading through your body was becoming unbearable and your head grew dizzier every second. Your breathing became short and labored.

“Tom, I-” Before you could finish, your legs gave out beneath you.

Tom rushed to catch you and Sybil leapt into action. With one arm holding you upright, his other hand gently patted your cheek, trying to rouse you.

“Y/N? Love, wake up.” He looked up at Sybil. “What’s happened?” Sybil touched her hand to your forehead and quickly drew away.

“She’s burning up, we have to get her inside.” He scooped you up in his arms and the two practically sprinted inside.

Mary was frozen for a moment as they ran past her back into the house. Y/N had looked rather ill at dinner, but surely she was just overwhelmed. Mary’s thoughts went to Lavinia and an icy fear ran through her.

“Somebody help!” Tom shouted upon getting inside. Servants gathered around with a chorus of gasps and Sybil began giving them orders.

“We should take her upstairs,” She instructed. “Thomas, fetch me a bowl of cold water and a cloth. Mr. Carson, try and fetch Dr. Clarkson.”

“Yes, my lady.” Mr. Carson’s eyes followed Tom and the worry in his expression was clear.

“What’s happening?” Matthew appeared from the dining room, the rest of the party soon filing out behind him.

“Y/N’s fainted.” Mary said solemnly, taking her fiance’s hand. “Sybil says she has a fever.” Everyone watched as Tom carried you up the stairs, Cora making her way to the front of the group.

“My girl.” She exclaimed, following Sybil and Tom. Abigail turned to her sister.

“And here I thought Irish women were supposed to have thick skins.” Mary would have lunged at them had Matthew not stood in her way.

“Just ignore them darling.” He sighed.

Upstairs was a flurry of movement from servants bringing Sybil supplies. They’d instructed Tom to the room you were meant to stay in and Sybil helped him remove the heavy dress from your frame. Male servants hesitated as they came in. Even catching a glimpse of you in your undergarments was a scandal. Tom seemed to notice their surprised stares and shifted so that he was shielding you from their view.

“Don’t just stand there.” Sybil exclaimed. “Help Thomas get the ice water and someone find out if Mr. Carson has contacted Dr. Clarkson.”

“Come on, love.” Tom brought your fingers up to his lips. “Open your eyes for me.” He couldn’t breathe. It was like the rest of the world was a complete blur. People bustled around as shapes around him. The only clear thing was you. The panicked tears came without warning. “Please, love. Please wake up.”

The first thing you heard was his voice.

#tom branson x reader #downton abbey imagines #downton #sybil crawley #Mary Crawley #tom branson #allen leech

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