This came from my late night wonderings about how things seem to synchronise when a lot of women live together and that women far out number the men at Downton Abbey

March, 1908

Charles Carson was incredibly proud of himself as he came down to breakfast. He could almost have hummed a tune. If butlers hummed tunes that is, which they most certainly did not do, at least where anyone could hear them. Things like this took a great deal of planning, and he had it planned down to the last detail. The wine shipment would come in tomorrow, and he could spend the next two, maybe three days sorting it out, keeping him safely in the cellar and out of the way. The reason that he was most eager to be out of the way for a few days was 'that time of which we do not speak' was fast approaching. In a house with so many women, it was best for any male to be aware of that time and take steps to protect himself.

When he'd first gone into service, he had noticed this difficult time. There were always far more women on the household staff than men and for some reason things grew strained for a few days each month. Not having grown up with any sisters, he had been incredibly confused. Mr. Jerkyns had taken him aside and explained the situation to him as obliquely as possible. Remembering that conversation, he was unsure who had been the most embarrassed. By some strange mystery all the women in any given house seemed to feel the same at the same time of the month. It could be quite unbearable at times, especially if Elsie and Mrs. Patmore were at odds which really seemed to be every month.

And there lay one of his chief problems. He was very satisfied with the current state of his relationship with his beautiful housekeeper, but their closeness made it almost impossible for him to avoid some abuse at this time. He also had to use every bit of cunning he could manage to not be drawn into a petty argument between Mrs. Patmore and her. Those conflicts were difficult at any time, but at this time he could scarcely avoid actual harm to his person. He loved Elsie dearly, but Mrs. Patmore had access to knives. His best course was as always avoidance, and he would gladly remain in the wine cellar for three days carefully sorting and storing the wine.

Walking past the kitchen to the staff hall for breakfast, he smelled something familiar which caught his attention. Stopping, he stepped to the edge of the kitchen and asked, "Mrs. Patmore, what is that you're baking?"

She gave him a slightly irritated glance, "A chocolate cake, Mr. Carson, if that's alright with you. I needed to get it finished early so that it would cool in time to ice it. Lady Grantham has especially requested chocolate cake with chocolate icing for their luncheon. If that meets with your approval," she finished looking at him boldly.

"That sounds excellent, Mrs. Patmore," he said as his thoughts started to whir. Where were his calculations off? He had been keeping track of this for years, and he had not been wrong for a long time. Then, glancing at the calendar, he realized his mistake. It was a leap year. February had twenty-nine days this year. How could he have been so stupid? He would have to come up with a new plan and quickly.

He came upon Joseph in the corridor just outside the servants' hall. Glancing around to make sure that no women were about, he said, "Ah, Joseph, I wanted to let you know that Mrs. Patmore is preparing a chocolate cake for luncheon."

Joseph's eyes widened slightly, "A chocolate cake, sir?"

"With chocolate icing," Charles nodded grimly.

Gulping quickly, Joseph said, "Sir, I was wondering if I might walk down to the village after luncheon, to visit my father."

"That sounds like an excellent idea. I trust that you'll let the others know about the luncheon menu as well. Now, shall we go in to breakfast?"

Sitting down at the table, he waited patiently for Mrs. Hughes. Standing when she entered, he gave her a small smile which she returned with a grimace. Charles' smile faded as he sat down to a very chilly breakfast. Glancing down the table at Joseph he nodded toward their newest footman, Thomas, who was speaking to Miss O'Brien. Judging from the sharp tones of her voice and the look on Thomas' face, she had just lashed out at him, and he was certain to be able to discern the reason for it. The new hall boy, William just had a puzzled look on his face. He supposed it was his responsibility to speak with him, but he wondered absently if he could persuade Joseph to have 'the talk'.

All the men jumped up from the table at the sound of the first bells, and Charles eagerly escaped upstairs with the Times to put the last touches on the dining room for breakfast. Lord Grantham entered first as usual, and Charles cleared his throat carefully.

"If you have something to say to me, Carson, say it. I'd rather not deal with any dissembling this early in the morning."

"Yes, sir, I wondered if you were aware of her Ladyship's choice of dessert for luncheon."

"No, I am not," Lord Grantham replied testily, "And I fail to see what difference that would make at breakfast."

"Well, sir, I believe that Mrs. Patmore is making a chocolate cake at her Ladyship's particular request."

Charles was satisfied to see that he'd certainly gotten his attention, "A chocolate cake?" Since he now had a wife and two daughters of the appropriate age, he might be forgiven for the slight rise in his voice on the last word.

Charles gave the slightest of nods with a lift of his eyebrows, "With chocolate icing, sir."

"Oh, I see," Lord Grantham said, "Well, I'm sorry that I'll miss that. I believe that I have some urgent business, and I'll just have a plate of sandwiches in the library. As a matter of fact, it might take two or three days to take care of that business."

"Certainly, sir, I'll be sure to let Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore know of your plans," inwardly he cringed realizing that there would likely be some sharp words from at least one of the ladies.

He was not proven wrong in his assumption. Mrs. Patmore was put out, and he was almost caught in the crossfire between her and Elsie. Thankfully, he caught William in passing and pulled him down to the cellar to help clear out space for the coming wine shipment, congratulating himself all the way for his quick thinking. He congratulated himself, that is, until he realized that he was going to be forced to explain the situation to William. Explaining this to the new men of the household was one of the most unpleasant parts of his position, and he usually put it off as long as possible. Grimacing to himself, he realized that he probably already had.

"William," he began hesitantly, "there's something that I need to explain to you."

"Sir?"

Eyes fixed on the wall just above William's shoulder, he began again, "In a household as large as Downton Abbey, there are naturally a large number of women on the staff."

"Yes, sir, I noticed, sir," he said quickly, obviously thinking he knew where this was headed, "You don't have to worry about me, Mr. Carson. My Mum has already warned me to stay away from the girls. I want to make something of myself sir."

Charles' eyebrows rose to his hairline, "Indeed. Well, that is certainly good advice, and I encourage you to heed it. There is another aspect to having so many women together, however."

William's open-faced, patently puzzled look was almost more than Charles could stand so he continued quickly, "Women have a difficulty that occurs on a regular basis, monthly in fact. This leaves them somewhat indisposed, and they can be in a bit of a temper at those times. When several women reside closely together this indisposition seems to occur at the same time. This occurrence can naturally be a little bit uncomfortable for the men as well."

"How are they indisposed sir? Are they ill in some way? It's not catching is it? I'd hate to get sick, sir."

Charles felt his face heat furiously and was glad that the darkness of the cellar would hide his embarrassment, "Yes, they are somewhat ill, although it is a completely natural process. And you needn't worry about catching it. Actually, never mind, just be forewarned that there are times that you should stay out of the women's way as much as possible and that this is one of these times," he finished quickly and turned his back to William to indicate that their conversation was at an end.

He felt William's eyes on his back, and William said plaintively, "Sir, I still don't understand why…"

Straightening to his full height and using the sternest voice he could manage, he said, "That is all, William. We will not discuss this again."

You'll not discuss what again?" a stern Scottish woman asked from the doorway.

Charles closed his eyes for a moment and took three deep breaths. He had never intended for anyone to overhear his discussion and especially not her. This was turning out to be one of the worst days of his life. He was supposed to be extremely skilled at blending into the background. Maybe if he stood still long enough, she would forget he was here. His hopes were dashed in just another moment, "Mr. Carson?"

He turned to face her, "Mrs. Hughes, William and I were simply discussing some household business. He had a few questions, and I wanted to be sure that he has the answers straight. I can't keep answering these questions endlessly."

"Mr. Carson," she said in her most patient tone, "William is just a boy. I'm sure that he'll learn quick enough. Could you spare him long enough to bring in a bit of firewood?"

Charles' eyes widened slightly, but he agreed, "William, go upstairs and do as Mrs. Hughes asks."

Once William was up the stairs, Charles was slightly dismayed that Elsie stayed behind. His fears were confirmed when she asked quietly, "Charles, why were you warning William to stay out of the women's way?"

Sighing, he decided that this was definitely the worst day of his life and fantasized briefly about just going up to bed and attempting to start the day over before he answered her, "Mrs. Patmore was baking a chocolate cake today."

She crossed her arms under her breasts and raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

He explained, "That is typically the first sign that there may be some bad humor amongst the women."

"Bad humor? Among all the women?"

His own anger riled a little now, he clenched his jaw and straightened his shoulders before answering tightly, "Yes; Bad humor that occurs on a cyclical basis."

He was pleased to see her jaw drop slightly, "Charles, you can't mean…"

"I do," he answered nodding shortly as his temper gained full sail, "Why on earth do you think that Joseph is visiting his father in the village, Thomas has volunteered to stay in the foyer all day, Lord Grantham is cloistered in his library, and I am quite cheerfully planning on staying in a cellar for the next few days?" his voice rose with every word until he was nearly shouting.

Eyes wide and waving her hand dismissively, she scoffed, "It can't be as bad as all that."

Eyebrows rose to his hairline again, "It can't? Last month I was caught between you and Mrs. Patmore as you discussed the store closet yet again. She was holding a knife for goodness sake. I think the combination of being stuck indoors so much because of the weather and, ahem, normal events are about to drive all of the women of the house over the edge. Elsie, the only safe course is to stay as far out of the way as possible."

Finally calming down a little, he took a deep breath as he watched her face, realizing that he was quite possibly now in mortal danger. Her head in her hands, her shoulders started to shake and a strangled sound emerged. Wonderful, marvelous day! He'd made her cry. Now he was going to have to spend the rest of his afternoon dealing with that.

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he said in the most soothing tones he could manage, "Elsie, dear, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry that I was so loud."

She lifted her head and swatted his chest with her hand. He saw that she was laughing and was certain that she had gone completely over the edge, "Elsie?"

"Charles," she said through chortles, "I had no idea things had gotten to such a state," she paused to catch her breath, "To think that all the men have been running away for the past few months!"

He laughed a little himself now, relieved that the storm seemed to have passed, "Well, we always know to stay out of the way, but the past few months have been a little excessive."

"And the chocolate cake is your first clue?"

His shoulders shifted uncomfortably, "Well, I keep track of things and…" seeing her disbelieving look, "Yes; this month that was my first clue."

"You keep track?"

He nodded defensively, "It seems like the wisest course. Someone has to do it or otherwise, it's just random."

"Have you only started keeping track since we've been closer?"

"Nooo," he answered carefully, "Although, that has made it a great deal easier."

"Easier?" she asked, eyebrow rising to her hairline now.

"Um, well, you cry a little easier closer to this time, and, of course, there's the, um, well," he pulled at his collar, "That is, you're a little more," he struggled to find the right word, "aggressive about two weeks before."

She took in his blush and obvious discomfort with an amused glance, "Aggressive?"

"Eager," he nodded, "for time alone with me. The scratches on my back have barely healed."

She shook her head in obvious amazement, "I had no idea. I would never have thought you'd keep such close track."

"Elsie," he explained patiently, "the smooth running of this house rests on me. My entire job is to pay close attention to the most minute of details. You do realize that I ensure that all the plates and silverware are exactly the same distance from the edge of the table, don't you?"

She nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose that is true. Well, that explains the mysterious disappearances each month at least."

He lifted his eyebrows in question and she answered, "Did you think it escaped my notice that the wine suddenly needs rearranging or a shipment arrives at just about the same time each month?"

He smiled, "And here I thought I was being so devious."

"Does this mean that you'll come upstairs for luncheon?"

"I'll serve it to the ladies, of course, but I'll be having a sandwich down here. Thank you very much."

"Well, I suppose I need to inform Mrs. Patmore," she said with a grim smile.

"Better you than me," he nodded and returned to the shelves.

Five days later, the ladies below stairs were gathered around the staff table having tea. Miss O'Brien was grumbling, "I've no idea what's got into 'em. They're downright hateful, and it seems to happen on a regular basis."

"There's no telling with men, dearie. They just get wound up over the smallest things. All I know is the best way to get Mr. Carson back in a good humor is apple tart, which is what we'll be having tonight."

Elsie just smiled to herself and nodded, "Perhaps you could make a chocolate cake in a few days as well."

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