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Edith came down to the garage to order the car for later in the day. She wanted to go to Ripon and buy some new books and magazines that were supposed to be out. With the war going on and every day news of how many more young men were killed in France and Belgium, Edith rather needed a distraction from the depressing state of the world. Of course, once she got her women’s magazines and romance novels, Edith knew she would feel guilty for enjoying her life any while so many were losing theirs in the war. It seemed like there was no winning these days, in the war or at home. Just a stalemate that ground you down to nothing.
Coming to the garage door, Edith saw Branson inside in his shirtsleeves as he was sweeping out the garage floor. Edith gave a quick glance around the garage. It was quite tidy for being such an old structure. Branson seemed to be good at keeping it clean and organized. “Branson,” she called gently to get his attention.
Branson turned to see her. “I’m sorry, m’lady, I didn’t see you there.” He set aside his broom and came to stand in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back. “What is it I can do for you?”
“I would like to go to Ripon in an hour, I need to go to the bookshop.” Edith knew Branson was plenty familiar with the bookshop, he could be seen browsing the secondhand books whenever he had a chance. He seemed to be a voracious reader, always taking books from Papa’s library as well as buying his own and then reselling them when he was done.
“Very good, m’lady,” said Branson. His expression was completely neutral and his voice was even. The perfect sort of servant reaction.
Edith glanced around the garage one last time. “You keep this place very well, you know. I don’t know if anyone ever mentions it, but you do a good job here.”
Branson smiled at the complement. “Thank you, m’lady.”
“I’ll see you in an hour,” said Edith, nodding at Branson. She received a courteous nod in return and then she left the garage to dress for town.
Branson brought the car around just when Edith had asked for it to be. He opened the door and helped give her a hand up into the vehicle. When Edith was situated inside, Branson climbed into the car and set off in the direction of Ripon. Edith passed the time as she usually did by watching the greenery flit by outside her window. After two years of war it seemed like everything had changed and nothing had at the same time. Here she was being chauffeured around by a man who may well be drafted to die in France next week. It was almost insane to think how everything could change in just an instant. And yet, regardless of all the change in the world, she just sat there the same as ever. Boring Edith with no advantages.
She glanced over at the back of Branson’s head. He almost always drove along quietly not saying anything. Sometimes Sybil would engage him in conversation when they rode together, usually about whatever was in the newspaper the day before. He would always express himself politely, but there was no mistaking his political views on whatever the topic was. Edith had always rolled her eyes when Sybil would start in asking him his views on whatever had caught her attention. But other than that he usually said nothing. Edith had never had a reason to ask Branson anything before, but for the first time in her life, she thought she actually had a question for the chauffeur. She felt almost a little silly bringing it up.
“Branson,” Edith said, leaning forward so she didn’t have to speak too loudly.
“Yes, m’lady?” answered Branson with a glance over his shoulder.
“Do you think women can drive cars?” Edith wasn’t really asking if it was physically possible, that seemed certain. She was more wondering about the social aspect. Yes, women could physically walk around town without their clothes on, that didn’t mean that they could do such a thing.
“Yes, m’lady,” Branson answered. “I’ve heard tales of very accomplished lady motorists.”
Edith sat back and thought on it. She’d seen some of those stories too. Lady race car drivers and long-distance racers all over the world. “Do you think it strange for a woman to drive? A normal one, I mean.”
“No, m’lady.” Branson glanced over his shoulder at her. “I think a woman driving a car is no more astonishing than a woman riding a bike. If it’s something she likes to do, she should do it.”
Edith didn’t say anything more for the rest of the journey. She did ponder quite a lot about what driving might look like for a woman of her position. She didn’t think her father would approve of a woman driving, and she knew Granny wouldn’t like it either. She wasn’t sure what she thought about it. Women could and did drive, but they always seemed to be feminist types who eschewed men and dressed in trousers. She didn’t really see many women like herself doing anything like that.
Once they arrived in Ripon, Edith went about her tasks. She picked up a magazine that Mary had asked for and two others Sybil had wanted along with her own choice, The Sketch. Then she scanned over the new romance novels for one that was supposed to be published this month. Sometimes she hated living in the country. Every year it got harder and harder to come back from London when the season was over. In London she never had to worry if a bookshop would have a new release or not, here she could never be sure. Finding only one of the three titles she’d hoped to buy, she sighed and picked it up to purchase. One day she wouldn’t be living the life of a provincial nun.
Buying her magazines and singular book, she returned to the waiting car. Branson, who had been reading a book of his own while she shopped, quickly put it aside and came around the car to help her in. When she was settled, he asked, “Is there anywhere else you’d like to go, m’lady?”
Edith wished there was somewhere else for her to go to, but there really wasn’t. Unlike when she was in London, once she was done at the bookshop there wasn’t really anything else to do. Just like her, Ripon was boring and unchanging. “I’m afraid not, just some magazines and a book today. The Career of Katherine Bush by Elinor Glyn. I had been hoping for some others, but this is all they had new right now.”
“Maybe they’ll have more new next week,” said Branson. “You can always make another trip.”
“It seems like such a lot of hassle if they don’t have it though,” said Edith. “I’ll probably give it a couple weeks, at least.” And such was the way of things, but Edith loathed how boring and dull country life could be. She was being molded by its dullness to be the same kind of dull. One day, she too would be proverbially late on the new releases and slowly slipping into complete obscurity. The thought made her sad. She wanted more for her life. She wanted excitement and a place in the world where she could show her worth. She might not be as pretty as Mary or as bold as Sybil, but she had something of value to share with the world, didn’t she?
Edith sighed as they headed off back to Downton. She was in no hurry to go but she had no reason to stay away. Instead of looking out the window, she kept an eye on Branson as he drove. The way he shifted the car so smoothly between gears and never slammed on the brakes. He was a good driver. Much better than their last one, Taylor. He’d almost been at war with the vehicle when he drove, Branson made it look easy.
Scooting forwards so she wouldn’t have to shout to be heard over the noise of the road, Edith said, “Is it very hard to learn to drive a car?”
Branson looked into the rearview mirror and Edith caught his eye there. “I don’t think so, not with the newer cars. Are you interested in learning?”
Edith felt suddenly exposed. She blushed a little and looked away from the mirror and Branson’s eyes. “No, I was just thinking about how easy you made it all look. You’re a good driver so I expect it’s quite a bit harder than you let on, but it seems simple enough when I’m watching you.”
“Thank you,” said Branson, “but it’s not hard at all. If you ever did want to learn, I’d be more than happy to teach you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” was all she said. Edith tried not to smile to herself. She didn’t even know if she wanted to learn, but it was nice of him to offer. She scooted back in her seat and put a little space between her and Branson again. The entire rest of the trip she toyed with the idea in her head. Being a lady driver had never been an ambition of hers before, but the more she imagined herself behind the wheel of a car she more she warmed to it. It was something that had always interested her in a casual way. Or maybe it was better to say that her interest had been suppressed and now that she was thinking on it again it they started to come to life inside of her. She had always preferred riding her bicycle to riding horses and found the mechanical elements of cars fascinating. Of course, Taylor had never liked her hanging around the cars and had always shooed her away when she’d come to watch what he was doing. Her parents as well were always very concerned that their daughters had appropriately ladylike hobbies. Especially their mother.
When the car pulled up in front of Downton, Branson opened the door and held out a hand for Edith. Taking it, she stepped out of the car. She looked at him, her mind half made up to say something. She caught his eye and he gave her a small smile. Normally he was pretty plain-faced when helping people in and out of the car, but the smile gave Edith the courage to say what she had in mind. “Will you teach me to drive? I’ll talk to Papa and get his permission, but I think I’d like to learn after all.”
Branson’s small smile grew as he nodded. “Of course, m’lady. I think you’d be very good at it.”
Edith smiled herself. The encouragement sent a buzz of power through her. Taking her parcel she held her head up as she headed into the house to talk to Papa.
“But why do you want to drive?” asked Robert as he looked up at Edith from his desk in the library.
“I thought maybe it could be useful,” said Edith. She hadn’t really come prepared to argue and now Papa was making her defend her choices.
“I don’t see how having one you girls behind the wheel is anything but a liability,” said Robert, dismissing her request entirely. “We hire chauffeurs for a reason.”
“I know that,” said Edith, racking her brains for any reason that might convince her father to allow the lessons. “But it might be a good skill for me to have, with the war on.” She didn’t have a solid idea of how her driving might help anything, but the war was used as a reason for so many things these days.
Robert paused. “Well, you might be right there.”
Edith could hardly believe her ears. Was Papa actually listening to her instead of giving her the nth degree just because she wasn’t as pushy about what she wanted as Sybil?
“I expect Branson to be called up before long,” Robert continued. “And it may be difficult to replace him with all the other young men being called up.”
Edith hadn’t thought about the conscription, but now that her father mentioned it she realized it made sense. “Exactly,” she said as if she’d thought of it in the first place. “We don’t want to be left completely stranded or dependent on the horses if Branson should be called up soon.” Her father didn’t much care for the horses now that they had the cars, and Edith was glad of it.
“Well,” said Robert, “I suppose there’s no harm in you learning, provided that you apply yourself properly. I expect you to listen well and not damage the cars. And you must commit yourself to the full course of the thing, not dropping off once it’s a little tricky or boring. You understand?”
Edith nodded. She had no intention of flaking out, she really wanted to learn this. “Yes, Papa.” She was so excited to start driving she was able to ignore how condescending her father was being about the whole thing.
Almost skipping with delight, Edith left the library at once and hurried to tell Branson the news. “Papa’s agreed,” she blurted out as she came into the garage and saw him wiping down the hood of the car. “When can we start the lessons?”
Edith’s first lesson was the following day in the late morning. She and Branson had agreed to have lessons three times a week, and if nothing was happening on the weekend an additional one then. Edith had been spared the scrutiny of being the topic of dinner conversation the night before, but she knew there was bound to be questions tonight. In order to stave off some of the sarcastic remarks from Mary or judgmental criticism from her father or Granny, Edith was determined to learn it all in the first day.
She had fretted over what sort of clothes to wear that morning. She didn’t want to look like a feminist lady-motorist who had another woman as a life companion instead of a husband. However, she wasn’t really sure what aristocratic lady-motorist even wore. In the end, Edith settled on a practical skirt and blouse and a sturdy pair of gloves. She went with one of her shorter skirts so there wouldn’t be any chance of tangling the hem in the pedals. Edith was so excited to start she was practically bubbling with joy.
Branson already had the car out of the garage and sitting on the gravel when she arrived. “Good morning,” he greeted her. “Are you ready for your first lesson?”
“I am,” said Edith. She had some butterflies in her stomach but she was as ready as she could be.
“Good,” said Branson. “Why don’t you get in the driver’s seat and I’ll walk you through all the particulars.”
Edith nodded and with a hand up from Branson, scrambled into the driver’s seat for the first time. Scooting in behind the wheel sent a thrill through her. She arranged herself and her skirts so they wouldn’t be in the way, then just sat for a minute with her hands on the wheel. For the first time in a long time it felt like things were finally under control in her life.
Branson climbed into the car next to her. There wasn’t much room in the front seat and the two were very close together. Edith listened carefully as Branson explained all the steps to get the vehicle started, then he had her start the car as he instructed. Edith fumbled through the process uncertainly, but Branson just kept encouraging and correcting her until the motor was started and they were ready to get underway.
“That’s a lot more difficult than I thought it would be,” said Edith once the motor was idling the way it was supposed to. “You make it look so easy.”
“You’ll find it easy after you do it two or three more times,” said Branson. “I’m sure you’ll have it down pat within a week.”
Edith wasn’t used to receiving compliments and blushed slightly. “I hope so. It won’t do me much good to learn to drive if I can’t start the car.”
“You’ll be driving along with the best of them soon enough,” said Branson. “Now, let me explain to you about shifting gears.” And with that he launched into a rather technical explanation of how cars accelerated and how to change gears and the speed the engine was running at and many more things that rather went over Edith’s head. She knew he wasn’t trying to make her feel stupid, she could see in his face how much he enjoyed talking about it all, but she wasn’t really able to follow any of it. When he finished and said, “So, let’s get her into gear and take a loop around the drive.” Edith still didn’t really know what she was supposed to do.
“Can you tell me again? I missed something I think.” Edith felt so stupid saying it. She gripped the wheel tightly in shame as she waited for the rebuke for not understanding right away. Maybe her father’s instincts had been right and it was a dumb idea for her to learn to drive. If she quit now he’d be vindicated and then upset with her for not sticking it through. She hoped Branson didn’t think she was as dumb as a rock for not understanding what he said.
“No problem, m’lady. It’s a lot to take in,” said Branson. “How about I give you step-by-step instructions and you follow along until you’ve got it.” He gave her an encouraging smile.
Edith relaxed her grip on the wheel. She was surprised to not be scolded. Usually, when someone taught her something there was an expectation that she would master it instantly, which she never could. Mary could manage it sometimes, though. That had made Mary a favorite of several of their governesses while Edith was relegated to second best and always trying to catch up. She hoped Branson’s good humor and patience lasted because if she was going to learn to drive she’d need it. Nodding at Branson’s suggestion, Edith said, “Yes, please go slowly. It’s all rather new to me.”
Branson began again, but this time he only gave as much information as Edith needed at a time. Edith followed the steps, not fully understanding how it all worked together, and after what seemed like fiddling with every little thing in the front of the car, she finally got the Renault into gear. It slowly crawled over the gravel and down the drive.
“Well done,” said Branson as the car started to motor under its own power. “The next thing is changing to the next gear.” And with that, Edith began to learn to drive. She still didn’t understand a lot of what was being said about driveshafts and timing belts as Branson explained all the gory details of what was happening with the motor as she accelerated or braked, but she felt flush with victory all the same. She was a lady driver, a woman motorist. She was able to drive a car.
The first driving lesson went by in a blur. It seemed that she had just gotten the car underway when the lesson came to an end and Branson was praising her for all she’d learnt in the first day. It felt good to have someone compliment her and she was flattered by Branson’s encouragement. She hoped that every lesson would go as well. When Edith sat down to dinner that night and everyone was discussing the day she was very happy to report, “I had my first driving lesson today, Branson said I did very well.”
“Driving?” Mary said in disbelief. “Papa, keep an eye on Isis or else she’ll become roadkill.”
Edith bristled at the remark, but even Mary’s bad attitude couldn’t dampen her spirits tonight. “We’re going to have our next lesson the day after tomorrow. I think I may get the hang of all this quite quickly.”
“I think it’s nice you’re learning to drive,” said Sybil as she took a drink from her water glass. “I think you’ll be very good at it.”
Edith appreciated Sybil’s support, but it was quickly undermined by her father. “No need to give her any medals yet, she’s only had the one lesson. We’ll see what comes of it all.”
Edith glanced at her mother who gave her a slightly sympathetic look. “I’m glad your lesson went well, dear,” was all Cora said in the most neutral of ways. Edith knew she wasn’t going to get much support from that direction.
When the day of the next lesson came, it went very much like the first had. Edith had forgotten a lot of things she’d been shown that first time and had to have much of it explained all over again. Edith wondered if all of this car business was just difficult, or if she was just slow. Whatever the case, Branson was very patient with her and didn’t belittle her for forgetting what each switch or pedal did. He just explained it all again with no snide remarks or cutting comments. It might have been this, more than anything else, that kept Edith coming back for the lessons. Not only was she doing something she was interested in, but it was fun to learn and the instructor was actually nice. That was a new experience for her.
Before they parted, Branson gave her a somewhat worn magazine with an image of a car on its cover. “This is a good one,” he said as he handed it to her. “I think it might help you to understand some of what’s going on with the car as you drive. Try and read it before the next lesson.”
“I will,” said Edith as she looked at the cover. He wasn’t just complying as a servant must to instruction from his employer, he really was trying to help her. It was a nice feeling to have someone who believed in you.
It took several lessons before Edith really got the hang of getting the car started. She thought getting the car into gear was easier, but even that presented challenges. Driving, it turned out, required a bit of a firm hand. She was often afraid of being rough on the vehicle and failed to give it the physical force it needed to either start or stop.
By their fourth lesson, Branson was saying, “You’ll have to be a little more firm with it, m’lady,” or some variation thereof, over and over again.
“I’m trying,” said Edith as she was depressing the clutch to shift to the next gear. It was her first time on the road and not just driving around the gravel paths of Downton.
“It’s not a piano, a light touch won’t do it,” said Branson. “You’ve got to step on it like you mean it.”
Edith tried stepping harder. She could feel the car fighting her as she tried to shift gears. She had both hands and both feet full between pedals and wheel and gearshift, and she wasn’t sure which combination of hands and feet she should be using. In a moment of panic she accelerated, which sent the car forward in a jerky burst. Scared by the sudden movement, Edith turned the wheel wildly while still accelerating. The car lurched towards a stone fence that ran along the roadside and Edith panicked as she saw the fence suddenly fill her field of vision. She threw her hands over her head to protect herself from the certain impact.
Branson seized the wheel and reached a foot over to slam on the brakes. The car jolted to a stop throwing the pair of them forward into the dash. Because they had been traveling fairly slow, there was no harm done. Still, Edith needed a minute to collect herself. Her body was full of adrenaline and her hands were shaking.
“Everything’s all right, m’lady,” said Branson. “No harm done.” His body was uncomfortably half on top of hers as he reached over and reversed the car back onto the road before putting it into park. Once he got the car stopped, he glanced at Edith over his shoulder. “Are you all right? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
Edith shook her head, she was starting to calm down again after the fright of almost crashing. “I’m afraid I lost my head and made a mess of it all. This was a stupid idea, I don’t have the brains to drive.” Edith folded her shaking hands in her lap until they could behave themselves.
“There’s no harm done,” said Branson again. “You shouldn’t give it up just because you had a little mix up. It happens to everyone at some point.” He disentangled himself from Edith and the wheel and the brake and reoccupied his own seat again.
“I nearly wrecked the car in my first week out, I can see that I’m not suited to this.” Disappointment welled in Edith’s chest. She had wanted to do this. Wanted to be good at it. Mary would certainly tease her about it. Her parents would probably mention how it was probably for the best that she didn’t learn. Edith wanted to cry. She was such a failure at everything.
“It’s part of the process,” said Branson. “I wrecked a car when I was learning to drive. Drove it straight into the corner of the pub. Took me forever to pay back the damages on the car, and I think I still owe the pub for new masonry.”
Edith looked over at Branson. He wasn’t angry or yelling, or speaking to her in one of those tight voices people use when they want to yell but aren’t. He was looking at her kindly and she saw no trace of derision in him. She rather thought his story to be genuine too, not one concocted to make her feel better. His blue eyes were soft and encouraging. The discouragement Edith was feeling began to ebb away. “Are you telling me the truth?”
“I am,” said Branson. “You should see the number of wrecks my brother Kieran has gotten into. And not all of them were because he was drunk.”
Edith laughed. She felt better now. “You think I should try again?”
“I do,” said Branson. “You’re more than capable of driving. You’re a smart lady, if you don’t mind me saying, and you’ve got what it takes to be a good motorist.” Branson smiled warmly at her and Edith felt the warmth in her stomach.
Her hands weren’t shaking any longer. Edith flexed her fingers to reacquaint them with the sensation of moving, then placed her hands on the wheel. “All right, I’ll try again.”
“Grand,” said Branson. “I’m glad you’re sticking with it. You know, physical mobility, especially with cars, is the next stage of women’s emancipation.”
“Is it?” said Edith, not really that interested in the subject of women’s rights. “I guess I’ll have to keep that in mind.” She was surprised Sybil hadn’t already signed up for driving lessons if all that about emancipation was true, which Edith didn’t really know if it was.
“Why don’t we start from the top,” said Branson. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Edith nodded, and they began again.
For weeks, Edith’s driving lessons were the main thing she looked forward to. Her entire weekly schedule revolved around the hours she spent cramped into the small cab of their cars with Branson instructing her on what to do and when. After getting a lot of the basics down, he’d also started showing her how the engine ran and how to troubleshoot small problems. Through it all, she had started to gain a new respect for Branson. He’d always been a good driver, even Granny liked him which was rare. But he was also a good instructor. He never made her feel stupid when he explained what she’d done wrong. And very often he’d have some anecdote of something similar happening with him.
That was another thing. Spending so much time with Branson, the pair had more opportunity to talk than they’d ever had in the last three years. Branson, of course, often stated things in a political manner. Not outright spouting leftist rhetoric, but she was certainly aware of his views on things. The only thing he didn’t speak about was Ireland, which Edith found odd, but figured he had his own reasons for not saying anything about it. Edith grew to like their conversations and learned quite a lot about him as they drove hither and yon for practice.
At the end of six weeks, Branson turned to Edith and said, “I think you’re just about ready for the road now. You won’t be needing me to drive you around anymore.”
Edith smiled, pleased with herself. “That’s wonderful. I never could have done it without your help.”
“I’m glad that you wanted to learn,” said Branson. “You’re doing very well, it’s just a matter of gaining experience from here on out.”
Edith was glowing with pride as she sat down to dinner that night. When she tried to make an announcement out of it, however, Papa was quick to shoot her down. He said that Branson had told him that she wasn’t ready to drive alone. Quickly, as it always did, the conversation turned away from Edith and on to Matthew’s new fiancée, Lavinia. It was as if she was invisible. The idea that Branson had cautioned her father behind her back also hurt. If he had doubts about her readiness, why not tell them to her? Edith stewed on it all night. Her glow from earlier completely gone.
The next time she had a driving lesson again, Edith could hardly focus. Branson was sitting right next to her like everything was fine when he’d been undermining her behind her back. So much for women’s equality. It hurt more than Edith would have thought. She was used to people underestimating and dismissing her. She practically expected it from every member of her family except for maybe Sybil. She had spent weeks driving with Branson, learning everything she could, studying up on vehicles and pouring her heart into all of it. Through it all, he had been so encouraging and so supportive through every mistake and false move. He never struck her as the kind to smile to your face and talk badly about you behind your back, but it seemed she was wrong. Edith just couldn’t understand it, was he just being nice to her because he didn’t think she could handle the truth?
Edith navigated through the streets of the village on their way to Ripon. She was supposed to pick up some books for her mother, and she wanted to see if the new periodicals were out as well. The car trundled along at a moderate speed. Edith could practically do this in her sleep by now. It was so familiar that she wasn’t much paying attention as the miles flew past. She was completely consumed by the question of why Branson would go behind her back and discourage her father about her driving skills. She almost didn’t want to look at him. She had thought he was different than Mary and others like her that comprised their friends and neighbors. Branson certainly talked a big game about social equality, but he didn’t even have the guts to tell her to her face that she needed a little more practice before she hit the road solo. She didn’t even understand why he wouldn’t have said anything. Yes, she was eager to drive alone, but she was hardly pushing for it to the point Branson might be afraid to contradict her hopes.
“Brake!” said Branson, sharper than usual.
Edith realized that a wagon had turned into the road in front of them and slammed on the brakes. Branson grabbed the dash to prevent himself from hitting the windshield and Edith clung to the steering wheel just barely avoiding hitting her face on it. The sudden stop had jolted all thoughts of betrayal out of her mind and she quickly engaged the parking brake. The wagon driver in front of them didn’t even notice the sudden stop and the horse that was drawing it plodded along at a sedate pace. Edith glanced over at Branson who was readjusting himself in his seat.
“Are you quite all right, m’lady? You seem a little far away.” Branson didn’t seem too ruffled by the quick stop, it certainly wasn’t the first one they’d done. Edith, however, felt like this was just more proof that she wasn’t good enough to drive solo. Her father was right. She was a failure at everything.
“No, I’m not,” said Edith. Suddenly her voice was tight and quavering. “I thought you really believed that I was doing well, but I realize now you were just lying to me.” Edith couldn’t help it as the tears started to roll down her cheeks. “I should have guessed this would happen, but I thought you were different.”
Branson looked shocked and deeply uncomfortable. “I’ve not lied to you, m’lady. I’m not sure why you think I have. I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to upset you.” And he sounded like it too. His voice was so sincere Edith wanted to believe him, but long years of experience had shown her better.
“You don’t have to play pretend, I know you told Papa that I wasn’t ready to drive alone even though you told me I was ready. I should have expected it, really. Everyone knows Edith is always messing things up, why would this be different.” Edith struggled to get the words out around her tears. She dug around in the pocket of her coat for her handkerchief. She hated being the stupid, ugly middle sister. The one that existed to make the other two look better by comparison.
Branson looked confused and somewhat afraid. “Edith,” he said, foregoing the honorific. “I never told your father that you weren’t ready, and I wouldn’t lie to you either. If I didn’t think you were ready to go alone, I’d say. I’d rather you drive with me for longer than risk you getting hurt or killed because I set you out alone before you were ready.” Again, his voice was sincerity itself. Edith wanted to believe him so much.
“Then why did Papa say that you did?” Edith knew her father wouldn’t make up such a story, Mary might, but not her father.
“I don’t know, maybe I misspoke when he was asking me about your progress last week. I said that you knew everything there was to know, and it was only a matter of practicing it. I promise I wasn’t trying to tell him that you weren’t ready.” Branson did look truly apologetic. “I’m very sorry if I gave his lordship the wrong impression. I’ll say something to him when we get back, I promise.”
Edith sniffed and wiped her face. Despite all the knowledge she had of two-faced people, she was actually starting to believe him. “Do you really think that I’m ready?” She watched him carefully as he answered looking for any sign of duplicity.
“I do, you’ve got all the skills that you need and I feel perfectly safe riding along with you. Everyone who drives is going to make mistakes from time to time, but you know how to manage them and that’s the important thing.” Branson gestured to the parking brake. “I didn’t even need to remind you to engage that when we came to a stop, you know what you’re doing.”
Some of the glow that Edith had lost began to return. She wanted to believe him so badly. So she did. “Will you really speak to Papa?” Edith hoped that he would be true to his word. If her father believed in her then maybe the rest of the family would too.
“I will,” said Branson, who looked a lot less concerned now that she wasn’t crying anymore. “You’re more than ready to put your driving skills to use.”
Edith stashed her handkerchief away and released the parking brake at last. “I do hope I can be of use. Conscription seems to have missed you so far, perhaps you’ll make it through without being called and I’ve learned all this for no reason.”
Edith was much better able to focus on the road now as she accelerated back to their previous speed. The wagon was nowhere to be seen, probably having turned off on another lane. Branson was keeping his eyes on the road and one hand on the dash, but didn’t seem worried. “It’s not for no reason. It’s better that you know and don’t have to depend on me.” Branson glanced at her and smiled. “You never know when you might need to drive somewhere all of a sudden in the middle of the night.”
Edith smiled back at him. “I suppose you’re right. I guess no knowledge is ever wasted.”
“If you want to put your skills to use right away, m’lady, I’m sure there’s places you could start helping instead of waiting for me to get drafted.” Branson sat back in his seat more and dropped his hand from the dash finally. “There’s quite a few adverts in the paper asking for drivers for short term contracts now that so many young men are gone off to war.”
“I suppose I never thought of that,” said Edith. They were coming into the edge of Ripon and she slowed down as the streets got more crowded with people going about their day.
“Whatever you decide to do, m’lady, you’re more than ready to drive anything with wheels.” Branson caught her eye and Edith gave a full smile as her heart swelled with happiness. Her family may never see that she had talent, but at least there was one person who did.