A True Second Chance

"Mr Carson seemed quite solicitous."

Miss Baxley turned at the foot of the stairs to see the very person she'd been trying to find. She smiled as he fidgeted with his despised gloves and looked anxiously at her.

"Yes, he was," she replied. "He seemed to think I needed to rest after traveling back from London."

Mr. Molesley's shrug and irritated grimace spoke volumes of his opinion of Mr. Carson's concern for the staff. "At least he cares about you."

"You'll be run off your feet with Mr. Barrow gone and no other footmen."

"I'm already run off me feet. But, when needs must…"

"Well, I'll help when I can."

"Be careful," he replied with an amused snort, "or Mr. Carson will make you first footman."

Miss Baxter smiled affectionately at him. "I'd be rubbish at it. I think I'll stay a Lady Maid, me."

Mr. Molesley's eyes brightened and his face changed from morose to hopeful. "Have you… has her Ladyship made a decision? Are you staying?"

"She has. And I am," she replied with a smile.

Mr. Molesley let out a relieved breath. "That's…well, that's wonderful," he stammered.

"Yes, and I'm ever so grateful to her…and to you, Mr. Molesley."

"Me?"

"I'm not staying under false pretenses anymore. I've told her everything, as you advised, and she's letting me stay. If you hadn't encouraged me, Mr. Molesley, I'd have just crept away under cover of darkness, discharged with a horrible character by the time Mr. Barrow had finished telling her everything."

"Well, I didn't—"

"I've got a true second chance now…"

"It's no more than you deserve," he insisted.

"It's more than I ever thought I could have." They smiled at each other until Mrs. Patmore demanded to know if His Lordship and Mr. Carson were expecting the kitchen staff up in the Great Hall to begin the clearing away.

"I rather doubt that, Mrs. Patmore," Mr. Molesley replied, earning an exasperated eye roll and a biblical imprecation that flew over his head.

"I'll help," Miss Baxter said, turning to go up the stairs ahead of him. He caught her hand and pulled her a stop.

"That's not the job of her Ladyship's Maid," he objected. "That's for the First Footman to do." He squeezed her hand and, smiling happily, he proceeded up the stairs as quickly as he could.

Miss Baxter watched him go, wondering if she dared hope for still yet another second chance.