A/N a one shot. I dreamt of this scene last night and couldn't get the idea out of my mind come morning. So I wrote this little piece.
The head that wears the crown
She follows him down the stairs, tries to convince him. It will do him good; take his mind off work for once. He deserves to spend a day outside with the others, with her. But of course he is against it, finds a hundred silly excuses why he has to stay at Downton when everyone else will leave in the morning to enjoy the fair in Thirsk.
"But you were young once!" This is a very good point she thinks. It will make him understand why they all want to go. It's a special outing, one that reminds them of their childhood, of days long gone but cherished forever (at least this applies to her and Beryl).
"I am young now!" he blusters and she won't argue with that.
"All the more reason to say yes! Oh come on, you'll enjoy yourself." She won't give up so easily, follows him into his pantry.
"No, I will not." He turns around, closes the door behind them, as if afraid someone outside will eavesdrop on their conversation. Elsie suppresses a grin. She remembers other moments, more significant ones, more delicate ones, where they kept the door ajar and risked being caught. This conversation is harmless compared to the heated kisses they have shared in his pantry at night. Still, obviously he feels uneasy now, for whatever reason.
"If I 'd go, they wouldn't have fun." He points at the door although she knows who is meant with they. Alfred, James, the hallboys. All the young men under his jurisdiction. He's afraid about letting go, being himself. She can understand it. At least a bit. But for heaven's sake, it's the 1920s. For once he could leave propriety at home and enjoy himself, spend time with her outside the walls of Downton Abbey. She gets lost in her thoughts for a brief moment. Thinks about all the pleasurable things he'll miss, no, the things they'll miss!
"Well, I'm going. Whether I spoil their fun or not." It's her last try. If he'd thought she would stay here with him, give in to his wish, support him in his out-dated thinking that the heads of staff ought not to have fun (when they both know that their little secret meetings at night go way beyond what others might consider proper for the butler and housekeeper of such a fine estate).
He's behind his desk now, creating a barrier between them. "That's different. They respect you of course. But I am their leader."
She tries not to laugh out loud, holds her tongue. The proud butler of Downton, talking to her as if she is a simple housemaid. At moments like these she wonders how she could ever fall in love with him. "Well, that's put me in my place."
It gets even worse when he sits down, gives her a lecture. "Don't envy me Mrs Hughes. You know what they say: Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown."
That's it. She has to bite her lip. Can only nod her head. Giving him contra now would only result in laughing out loud and she cannot risk ridiculing him. So she swallows the snarky comment, takes a deep breath, turns around and walks towards the door.
"Wait. You know how I meant it!" He is calling after her, his voice no longer in that haughty tone. She does not stop, leaves his room, is almost at the stairs when he catches up with her. "Mrs Hughes, wait."
"Any more of your silly arguments?" There it is. The comment she wanted to avoid. It's out there now between them.
"They aren't silly." He's taken aback, as always, although he should be used to her way of scolding him by now.
"Oh yes they are, Mr Carson." She continues her way upstairs, step by step, still bites her lip, suppresses a grin, can't risk having him in a bad mood. He is close behind her but does not pass her. "And you know it."
They are on the third landing now. One staircase to go until they've reached the servant's quarters. She hasn't planned on retiring for the night so early. Her only intention has been to convince him that he needs to ignore his stupid rules once a year, be Charles Carson in front of everyone else instead of the stern Mr Carson. In no way would it undermine his authority. On the contrary, he would gain a lot of respect for being himself for a few hours. But once again he has proven to be remarkably dense and stubborn.
"Elsie, I was just trying to say that they won't take me seriously after such a day. I can't be boisterous in their company and you know that."
Oh yes, she knows. He's afraid that he'll enjoy it too much, and regret his decision of going into service after his time on the stage. Yet, it's not a problem she thinks is unsolvable.
"But you can be in my company. Can't you, Charles?" A few more steps and they stand in front of the door to their bedrooms. Since they're almost upstairs now, a new plan begins to form in her mind. "Or am I below your standards because I'm only a housekeeper?"
She turns around, looks into his face, grins at him. He is standing one step below her, eye to eye. "I'm sorry."
"I've asked you something." Who's the leader now she thinks. She takes a step backwards, and another one. He follows her with his eyes. "You said you're still young. So why not enjoy yourself now? Since you won't accompany us tomorrow. I don't want you to miss out on all the fun."
The keys on her hips jingle when she takes the one that locks the door to her room from its chain and holds it up, like a reward. He can catch it if he wants to but he is still observing her from the stairs while she walks on, through the door on her left that leads to the women's bedrooms. She is certain he'll follow her any moment. Because now she's the leader, the head that wears the crown.
The key turns in the lock, the door swings inwards, she can hear his steps on the corridor and then feel his presence behind to her back. "Let's be a bit boisterous, shall we, Mr Carson?"
This time he gives her an answer by closing the door behind them and kissing her neck softly.
THE END