Hello everyone,
I'm at it again. This time it's a little self-indulgent as I wanted to take the time playing around with some of the other characters of Downton. Right now, it's from the perspective of Thomas, but it'll switch further into the story. I'm not sure if that works, but I wanted to try that style.
It was also born from the DA kink meme (also one of the kink-less prompts) but it came from several moulded into one, so I'm not linking anything.
To anyone who lives in Yorkshire, I'm sorry; I tried to research the geography for this story/to make sure this story could even happen. Since I don't live there and my gran (who grew up there) doesn't have much to say, I have a feeling I'm missing the point - so if anyone would like to share pointers, etc, please do!

And if you thought I was going to take liberties with geography, wait until you see the creative licence I took on all the other stuff:
It's set at an indefinite time after the Christmas Special, so certain characters won't be present while others, like Branson, are doing unusual things. Unusual things like taking a 6 hour road trip with his father-in-law and servants to move house... Let's pretend that would have happened back then.
Anyways, I've rambled enough. I hope you enjoy! Reviews are always welcomed and hugged upon receipt.


Chapter One:
Ludbrook Manor


As the carriage came to a stop in front of the manor, Thomas expelled a sigh of relief. The last six hours had been spent riding in a hostile silence with his fellow passenger, Mr. Bates. Neither had wished to speak with one another since they had left Downton that morning. The valet shared Thomas' relief when they arrived at Ludbrook Manor, as the awkward animosity had only exacerbated an already trying journey.

The ride's only redeeming feature had been the view it had afforded either man, as neither had seen that part of the Yorkshire Dales before. Both had marvelled at the enclosed and precarious laneways lined by old, giant ash trees that they had traversed before reaching the dales further west. They had also quietly enjoyed the sight of bright limestone ridges and the grassy plateaus littered with gnarled hawthorne bushes.

Ludbrook Manor made an impressive sight, nestled as it was in a relatively untouched portion of Craven. Far was it from the majesty of Downton, its modest half-timbered façade stood in stark and stately contrast to the beautiful green vistas surrounding it. It was accompanied to the east by an old stable and what looked to be a small, one-room hut. As Thomas scrambled out of the carriage door, he thought it had its own peculiar charm despite its relatively small size.

As he was exiting his own vehicle, the trailing carriages arrived in front of the manor. The first was empty save for the coachman sitting atop it and was brought for storage purposes. The second and more spacious one held Lord Grantham and Branson. Keeping an eye to the landscape before him, Thomas grasped the handle of the lord's carriage and swung it open.

"Ah, thank you, Barrow. I hope the ride was not too tiresome for you," Lord Grantham greeted the under-butler as he stepped out.

With a bow, Thomas replied falsely, "Not a' tall, my lord. The dales are a beautiful sight."

He held his bow until Branson exited the vehicle.

"That they are. Ah – and here we finally are! The mysterious manor," Robert walked toward the door of the house, as Branson stood and attempted to stretch subtly. Just as Mr. Bates and the young coachmen assembled in front of their own carriages, a tall, greying man came around from the side of the building.

"Greetings and welcome, Lord Grantham, is it?" He walked quickly towards the earl with his hand outstretched.

"Yes, and I presume you are Mister Rhodes?" Robert met the other and shook his hand briefly before introducing him to Branson.

"You presume correctly," the man smiled and opened his arms wide, "I hope you had a pleasant journey. As you can see, it is a stunning landscape you've inherited."

In an uncharacteristic stroke of luck, Robert had been bequeathed the manor and some of the land surrounding it. The property had originally belonged to Raymond Ludbrook, a kind but quiet man whom Robert had met years before when Mary was still a babe in arms. Their last meeting occurred just before Ludbrook purchased the property and became a recluse within the manor's walls. The man had never taken a wife nor had he sired any children. His manor, unlike Downton, was never an entailed property, and his title was insignificant compared to Robert's earldom. Ludbrook had not been close to his remaining, albeit very distant, family. In fact, he had rarely spoke with anyone not in his employ, as he had devoted his time to cultivating his gardens and exploring the dales surrounding his manor.

So it was with great surprise that Robert accepted the news of his inheritance. He had not supposed he had imparted any lasting impression upon Ludbrook after their last meeting. Out of sheer formality, the Crawleys had extended an annual invitation to the older man at Christmas, which Ludbrook had respectfully declined each time. Unbeknownst to the Crawleys, their indifferent attempts had not gone unappreciated by Ludbrook, who had received fewer and fewer correspondences with each year spent in seclusion. Without a family, he decided to name Robert as his sole beneficiary.

"I was assured your own lawyer had gone over the details of the estate with you before you embarked," Mr. Harold Rhodes, Ludbrook's lawyer, said as he clasped his hands behind his back.

He patted a bulge in the front of his tweed suit jacket, as he explained, "I have here the specifics of the will and deed that will require your signature before I leave. Unfortunately, I must leave you now, as I have business to attend to in Grassington later this evening."

Robert nodded graciously, "Of course, let us not delay you. I don't suspect we will need much assistance in the following days."

An odd look graced the lined lawyer's face, "No, I suppose not. Although," he paused, "can I just say – Ludbrook was rather occupied by his gardens. The beauty you see here never followed him indoors."

Robert frowned briefly before Mr. Rhodes continued, "I just wish to prevent any undue shock. Come – we'll go to the kitchens to sign these and I'll give you the keys."

"Leave our things for now, Barrow. Bates, I'll only be a moment," Robert said as he and Branson followed the lawyer around the side of the manor.

Thomas eyed Mr. Bates, who was leaning heavily on his cane; the hours spent sitting had aggravated the ruined muscles in his leg, and John had found it painfully stiff upon standing. The under-butler chose to ignore the other's man discomfort and turned his attentions to the scenery with a subtle roll of his eyes.

He decided against pulling his cigarette case from his pocket, as he was not keen on being caught smoking should the earl return earlier than expected. Instead, he enjoyed the bright sunshine that had miraculously followed them their entire trip. It served the country side well, brightening its grassy knolls. Thomas could spot forget-me-nots and bluebells that had muscled into the grasses and wondered idly how Ludbrook's gardens faired in comparison to the natural beauty of the area.

He was glad he had not lit a cigarette, for Mr. Rhodes had soon reappeared around the corner of the manor, closely followed by the earl and his son-in-law. John withdrew his weight from his cane and righted his posture, just as Thomas and the coachmen straightened their backs.

"Greatest of luck to you. I hope you can bring the manor back to its original glory. I'll return in at noon on the day of your departure, to ensure everything has gone smoothly." He nodded shortly.

"Thank you. I believe we'll need all the luck we can get," he shared a rue smile with Branson, "We'll see you in two days' time."

As the lawyer took his leave towards the stables, the lord turned towards his servants.

"Well, those certainly have been an enlightening few moments."

"Makes one consider the virtues of sleeping amongst the bluebells, doesn't it?" Branson remarked.

That Lord Grantham had not disputed Branson's comment raised Thomas' suspicions and Mr. Bates' as well – if his raised eyebrows said anything.

"Certainly it makes one heartsick for Downton. Bates, why don't you follow us in through the kitchens. Thomas, have George and Lewis take our luggage in through the front door before they manage the horses with Albert. One of us will be there to meet you momentarily."


"Mr. Bates, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. de Mar. He was Ludbrook's cook and the only remaining staff member here." Robert gestured towards a slight, scraggly man. "He'll remain here until we leave, as he has agreed to prepare us our meals while we… assess the manor."

John nodded at the cook while his concern for the manor growing. The kitchen, though small, seemed normal and clean enough.

"Now, I'll expect us to be busy until this evening, so don't trouble yourself with any luncheon. And a full dinner won't be necessary, obviously, just a tea for all of us should suffice."

De Mar's eyes widened slightly at the mention of dinner and nodded in quick succession at the idea of tea. Having only cooked for Ludbrook, the groundskeeper, and himself, he rarely had reason to prepare anything elaborate – and he assumed rightly that Robert Crawley was used to such meals.

"Yessir – I mean, Yes. My. Lord." De Mar enunciated, clearly unsure of how to treat his guests, having had a much more casual relationship with Ludbrook. Branson worked to control a grin in response.

Robert, for his part, was oblivious to the cook's discomfort and continued on, "Now, Bates, we'll have you wait for Thomas at the door. You'll see soon why we're a bit hesitant to get started."

He led Branson and John through the doorway to a set of well-worn stairs leading up to the main floor.

"As you'll see in a moment, it's quite… unkempt, to say the least," Robert threw over his shoulder.

As John ascended the stairs and entered what looked to be a sitting room, he realised Lord Grantham was being generous; unkempt was putting it lightly.

Ludbrook's lawyer had been correct. For all of his attention spent to his grounds, it seemed he had been totally uninterested in the upkeep of his house. The derelict room was in a state of extreme disarray and neglect. Many of the possessions had been left tossed and forgotten in mounds of rubbish collected in the corners of the room, while the furniture sat dirtied and piled high with various papers and random items. Much of the room was thickly blanketed by cobwebs, which made John assume the room was little more than a warehouse for forgotten things. The smell of mould and mildew was overpowering.

"Unfortunately, the other rooms that we've seen share a similar theme of … disorganisation," Robert lamented, "Just through there is the main hall where Thomas will be coming through. We've not yet ascertained where the bedrooms are, but it's safe to assume they're upstairs. Tom and I will explore there while you wait for Thomas; then we'll get started."

"Of course, whenever you're ready, my Lord," Mr. Bates said as he took towards the hall.

Lord Grantham's plan had been to spend the next two days investigating the property and collecting any small and valuable items to bring back with them to Downton. The less desirable or large belongings would be left so they could be moved, sold, or destroyed at a later date. This course of action was made before the true nature of the manor was known. Judging from his cursory look at the first sitting room, John assumed there was going to be more destroyed than originally expected.

He had stood for only a moment in the hall before a large bang rang out and the front door swung open violently with Thomas following its swinging arc. The under-butler barely caught himself before he met the floor with his face.

At the valet's raised eyebrows and small smirk, Thomas defended, "The bloody latch stuck. It's as if it hasn't been used in years."

He wiped his hand against his suit jacket – offended by the grime left by the handle – and moved out of the way for the two coachmen carrying the earl's luggage.

"Just put those down here," Mr. Bates directed, "I think I'm beginning to see a pattern."

He did not elaborate when Thomas threw a confused look his way. He merely smiled in anticipation of their work and said, "Just you wait."


Thomas was not pleased when he discovered Mr. Bates' meaning. Nor could he understand why it had tickled the valet so much in the hall. As it was now early evening, they had worked through plenty of dust, cobwebs, and filth, and the servants were sporting most of the dirt on their persons – Mr. Bates included.

The seven men had first inspected the upstairs rooms under the guise that they would get the hardest part of manoeuvring any objects down the stairs out of the way first. Lord Grantham had directed the others towards their duties, and Branson attempted to lend a helping hand; however, the dirtier and more taxing jobs of moving furniture went to the servants.

They had found that the bedrooms matched the sitting room in its mess. Even Ludbrook's own was in state of bedlam, with various refuse like newspapers and clothing covering the floor so thickly that it was nearly impossible to move about freely.

There was a partially cleared path leading from the door to the bed, but the mattress itself was covered in books and more rubbish. Only a small sliver at the edge of the bed was free from litter, which was where Thomas guessed Ludbrook must have slept, curled up tight each night.

Thomas curled his lips up in disgust at the state of the room and wondered how someone could be so careless. If he owned a place like Ludbrook Manor, he would be sure to use it properly; everything would be put in its place neatly and shining brightly. At the very least, he would not allow valuable books to lay forgotten on the ground where others could step on them.

While the others were going through the items on the floor and bookshelves, the under-butler had been given the task of clearing the bed free of debris and dressing it for his lordship. He had done the same for the guest bedroom they had already cleaned, for another reason why they had chosen with these rooms was to have suitable rooms in which Lord Grantham and Branson could sleep. As there were no maids present, such a task had to be done by one of the men; he was the lucky one chosen by the earl.

As the sun began to set, no word had yet been said about where the servants would sleep, and the further Thomas delved into the dirt, the more he began to worry about his own sleeping quarters. Unfortunately, Ludbrook had not thought to retrofit the manor with electricity before he died, so the Downton men were working against the clock.

Much to Robert's dismay, the afternoon had been spent doing what could only be called damage control. Not much of the items were worth salvaging or even selling. His mood had slowly grown sour when the condition of his inheritance set in over the course of the afternoon.

Just as Thomas had smoothed out the final blanket over the bed, Mr. de Mar walked through the door carrying a large tray. It was full of breads and cheeses. Without even realising it, Thomas had worked up an appetite and felt his stomach gurgle at the sight. The way the others eyed de Mar made him think it was a condition shared by everyone.

"Hullo, my Lord – I have the tea you asked for. Just some cheeses and the like. Made 'em m'self." The cook said with a smile, announcing himself in an uncommonly casual manner.

Robert took a step away from the bookshelf he had been perusing, "Ah, thank you de Mar. You may set it," he paused as he eyes swept the room, "anywhere free, I suppose."

The cook found a cleared Pembroke table near the windows and set his tray on its surface. He stepped backwards towards the door.

"If there's anything else, Lord Grantham, I'll take my leave."

"No, I think that should do."

De Mar nodded and turned to leave the bedroom when Branson spoke up.

"Actually, if you don't mind – are there any additional bedrooms? Our… men will need places to sleep as well," he said, clearly unsure of how to speak of the servants.

The cook's eyes widen slightly in thought. He brought up his index finger as he replied, "Oh, yes! There's a small outbuilding near the stables. The groundskeeper used that before Ludbrook passed, so it has a bed and stove."

He looked at the five dishevelled servants in the room apologetically, "I'm sorry but we didn't need much out here with just the three of us. There are plenty of blankets you can use for the floor though!"

Thomas could not help but lift his eyebrows incredulously at the mention of anyone sleeping on the ground. He even looked towards Mr. Bates to see if he shared his disbelief, but the valet was staring at the cook with an impressive poker face. The way the other man levelled his stare at the cook, however, had Thomas guessing he was uninterested in the idea of sleeping on anything other than a bed.

"And where do you sleep, de Mar?" Robert asked, clearly disturbed by the unusual arrangement Ludbrook had. He had as much assumed that Ludbrook had not employed a butler or housekeeper by the state of his rooms, but he had expected the manor to be fitted with proper accommodations for servants.

"I have me own room near the kitchens. Of course, someone could stay there tonight, but I only ever needed one bed, sir, so it'll be the floors there too."

"Right," Robert nodded, "Well we'll alert you of our decision after we eat. I'll leave this up to their discretion," he concluded, gesturing towards Mr. Bates and Thomas.


They ultimately decided against using the cook's quarters and all five servants shared the former groundkeeper's lodgings instead, which turned out to be the smaller building Thomas had spotted to the east of the manor when they had first arrived. True to de Mar's words, it had its own stove that would ward against the chill. It also allowed them to heat the water they used to scrub off the day's filth.

Each had cleaned themselves in rotation while the others changed. The corners were the only areas that afforded some privacy, but the camaraderie between the coachmen spread a sense of ease with everyone and it wasn't as awkward as John and Thomas had worried it would be. Being the first to wash and change, John had made a pot of tea for the others.

Of course, Mr. Bates secured the small bed due to his age and injured leg, which was how Thomas found himself annoyed and lying on the hard ground amongst the coachmen. The size of the room allowed a decent amount of space between each man, but the blankets did little to protect from how hard or cold the floor was. Like everything else from the manor, their musty odour made Thomas feel ill.

"What a pig sty. Give me the place and I'll make it worthy of itself." Thomas said as he tried to arrange himself in a comfortable position.

"Tell us, Thomas, who would give you such a manor?" John smirked as he sat atop his blankets, finishing the last of his tea.

The young coachmen shared a smile.

"I'm only saying it's a disgrace the state of the place." Thomas stared at the valet unblinkingly, in hopes that his stare would one day bore straight through the man's skull.

"You'd never catch me dead in a place like this – clean or not," admitted the darker haired coachman from his place on the floor. They had learned earlier that he was George. Lewis, the auburn haired and slightly younger one, nodded his head in agreement. The oldest coachman of the three, Albert, remained silent and could have been asleep by anyone's guess.

"You can't be serious," Thomas said in disbelief. The manor, despite being not even a shadow of Downton, was far greater than any of them could hope to ever achieve in life. Even Mr. Bates, who shared a modest cottage with his wife, was living a fortunate life for a servant.

"Place gives me the proper chills," George shook his head, "I'd be looking over me shoulders every chance I got."

Lewis laughed, "As if you don't already!"

"And what do you call what you were doing today, eh? I caught you lookin' over yours more than once."

"It's funny you should say that," Thomas added casually, "considerin' the history of the place."

The under-butler worked hard not to let a smile show when his statement caused both coachmen to lift themselves up on their elbows and turn to look at him. They both shared looks of concerned scepticism.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe I shouldn't say, if you're going to be so sensitive about it. I thought you already knew," Thomas said with a shrug, as he shifted his eyes to look at the ceiling.

"We're not sensitive," George said.

Thomas arched his eyebrow, "We can't have a coachman who'd spook his own horses."

"You can't say something like that and not tell us!" Lewis looked pale as his imagination had clearly taken hold.

The under-butler made a show of deliberating on whether or not to tell them. Mr. Bates looked unimpressed but remained silent.

"Well, years before this Ludbrook bloke bought the place, it was owned by a wealthy wool-merchant. He had a loving wife, a couple of beautiful daughters, and had plenty of servants working here fillin' the place up. The place was said to have been almost as busy as Downton. And everyone loved him 'cause he was a generous man and a kind master – like His Lordship.

"But then one day, he returned from a walk in the hills a changed man. Suddenly no one could do right by him. Even his daughters bore the brunt of his fury and many a time they wore the bruises to prove it."

"And then after a while, the people in town stopped hearing from them. And since he was such a big merchant, it didn't take long for some o' them to come down looking for 'm."

George and Lewis stared, both gripped by the story.

"What they found frightened and disturbed the townsfolk."

Thomas lowered his voice and the coachmen leaned in closer.

"When they entered the manor, it was deadly quiet – couldn't find no one stirring and that's 'cause in the dining hall, they found the lifeless bodies of all the servants sat 'round the table, ready to dine. The table was set and full of food that had gone fusty, 'cause they had all expired before they could enjoy it.

Upstairs, they found the daughters strung up bloo–"

"Thomas!" John interrupted wearily.

He cleared his throat and threw a look towards the valet, "They were found… in a bad way. And when they got to the kitchens, they found his wife stuffed in the oven burnt alive."

After a pregnant pause, George finally asked, "And? What about the merchant?"

Thomas quirked his lips, "Oh, they never found him. They figured he had ran for the hills. At least, that's what the story was since they couldn't find hide nor hair of 'm.

"It wasn't 'till daft old Ludbrook came along that they could sell the place on account of the events. They say the halls are still haunted by the servants and his family bemoaning their fates. Things get moved around, and sometimes they reach out and touch you right here," he dragged a finger lightly across the crown of his head, "ever so softly to let you know they're there."

A pregnant pause followed.

"I don't believe it," George said weakly.

"You don't have to believe it, but give me another reason why Ludbrook spent so much time in his gardens."

Lewis looked towards the valet, "What do you think, Mr. Bates?"

"Old places like these are bound to have a history," he added vaguely with a shrug, "But I do think we should get to bed if tomorrow is anything like today."

The valet turned the dial of the oil lamp sitting on the night table next to his bed and extinguished the flame, allowing the room to darken. The remaining embers of the stove cast a dull glow across the room. Thomas allowed a grin to break out as he turned over his to side and curled up in the blankets. The labours of the day left him exhausted, and sleep soon claimed him. The others also fell into slumber just as rapidly, and soon the outbuilding was full of the snores of five men sleeping.