Respite, it seemed, did not await Combeferre, even after dinner’s last dishes were cleared away. Trapped by Doctor Clarkson’s kindness - however much of it was left - and by Lord Grantham’s so-called hospitality, he could do nothing but follow the other men into the library, where he found a world stranger still than the one he had left in the dining room. He refused cigars and liquor alike, not out of unfamiliarity, but because too many social cues and pitfalls seemed to spring up, even when completing the simplest task. Moreover, he suspected that after the dinner conversation, Lord Grantham would prefer it. He would have to sit quietly and say nothing at all, he realized, if he intended to depart with any dignity whatsoever.
But he could only sit there for so long - silent, fidgeting, foolish - surrounded by conversation in which he dare not partake, and with servants lurking strangely in the background. Making apologies, he confessed his tiredness, and the others appeared relieved, frankly. Have someone fetch the chauffeur, Lord Grantham suggested. Yes, you have had a long day, of course, Doctor Clarkson agreed, and then both men returned to their conversation as though he were no longer there.
Whatever the excuse, Henri was glad to finally leave. Head down, he hurried out of the room, not quite sure where he was meant to go now, but terribly relieved to have gotten away. In his haste and carelessness, he nearly ran directly into Sybil as she lurked in the hallway. He swallowed a sharp breath of surprise, but then half-laughed when he saw who it was. “Sybil-“
Henri meant to say more, he was sure of it, but suddenly he could not find the words, so glad he was to see her without other prying eyes around.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-05-30 02:38 am (UTC)But he could only sit there for so long - silent, fidgeting, foolish - surrounded by conversation in which he dare not partake, and with servants lurking strangely in the background. Making apologies, he confessed his tiredness, and the others appeared relieved, frankly. Have someone fetch the chauffeur, Lord Grantham suggested. Yes, you have had a long day, of course, Doctor Clarkson agreed, and then both men returned to their conversation as though he were no longer there.
Whatever the excuse, Henri was glad to finally leave. Head down, he hurried out of the room, not quite sure where he was meant to go now, but terribly relieved to have gotten away. In his haste and carelessness, he nearly ran directly into Sybil as she lurked in the hallway. He swallowed a sharp breath of surprise, but then half-laughed when he saw who it was. “Sybil-“
Henri meant to say more, he was sure of it, but suddenly he could not find the words, so glad he was to see her without other prying eyes around.