World War One has now occured and Lady Emma Crawley must either sink or swim in this troubled, dark times. Since the Garden Party in 1914, Emma must face challenges that would either make her a strong woman or break her.
I recommend reading the firs...
Hello everyone, I am back with another chapter and I must admit that I had temporarily lost my enthusiasm for writing these past weeks. But just rewatching the first ten minutes of Downton Abbey had just sparked my interest and I am back to writing.
Anyways, enough of me and please, enjoy reading, feel free to comment, vote and adding the story in the library.
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July 1917. Downton Abbey had started the transformation into a convalescent home for the soldiers. Although in Emma's opinion, it became across a factory and a hospital for the wounded soldiers. There were many bed frames converted into bedrooms. The library was sectioned off between the soldiers and the quiet private library for the family. The Dining room was also to be shared between family and soldiers. It felt like an infiltration. Emma was trying to help as much as she could muster, but she felt completely useless and a nuisance. She kept trying to ask Cousin Isobel what could she do to help, but she was ignored all the time. She felt rather foolish standing around whilst everyone was busy bustling about.
Luckily, Sybil spared her to help make the beds and pouring jugs of water and deliver medical supplies in the rooms. It wasn't the most exciting job, but it would help pass the time and anything to kill off the boredom she had. Cora, Edith and Mary joined them in the Drawing Room.
'Who will be in charge?' Cora asked.
'Cousin Isobel thinks it'll be her,' said Edith.
'I hope not,' said Emma, frowning a little, 'She'll drive us mad by the end.'
Mary agreed. 'For once, I am with Emma on this.'
Emma and Edith shared a glance.
'I'm going up to change,' Cora said, clearly tense from the move and Mary followed her.
'I just want to finish this.' Sybil said, making the bed.
'I can help.' Emma said, placing the last medical supply box on the side table.
'Aren't you going to the hospital?' Edith asked Sybil.
'Not yet,' she said, 'I'm on a night shift. I'll walk down after dinner. And please don't start lecturing me.'
'I won't,' said Edith, 'I envy you.'
'Do you ever miss helping out on the Drake's farm?'
'That's a funny question. Why?' Edith sounded offended by Sybil's inquiry.
Emma frowned at Edith's attitude.
'No reason,' It's just you seemed you had such a purpose there. It suited you.'
Emma sighed, 'Well, at least Edith did something. All I have done is run around like a headless chicken while soldiers are fighting and laying down their lives in France. I just feel helpless.' Emma grumbled.
