Series 4 Episode 4...A Gift With Words

Mr. Carson contemplated the photo, but his fingers caressed the frame. He had noticed that Mrs. Hughes had moved with a …bashful…awkward shuffle when she'd handed him the tissue wrapped gift. She looked even more embarrassed when he commented on the obvious value of the frame. It had been uncouth of him to mention money, but he was taken off guard by the gesture and had let propriety slip.

Of course, who else did they have to spend their money on? He'd splurged on a Christmas gift for her on occasion, but this was for no occasion, only because she needed to finish the healing process that she had started. Her compassion about Alice had not surprised him, but her willingness, even eagerness to talk about it had. Why was she so interested in such personal matters? And how was it that she understood so completely?

He looked up from her gift to her face; from the Dove to the Dragon. But she was not a dragon to him. Just as he was not the heartless butler…

"Hold on, what do you mean I once had a heart?" Her mischievous smile answered his mock indignation. "Is this how it works, you give me a thoughtful gift and you have free rein to insult me?"

"It's all part of the healing process, Mr. Carson. When you can laugh at yourself, I'll declare you healed."

"I see, Dr. Hughes." He raised the framed picture of Alice to her. "Is this the bandage then?"

"No. I suppose, if you must belabor an analogy, it would be the scar; the memento of the wound."

"And of the healing." He reminded her. There were two parts to this gift; Alice's and hers; his past and his present.

"Of that too, yes." She acknowledged, contemplating her hands in her lap.

"Perhaps you 'jest at scars that never felt a wound.'"

"That may have been true for Romeo, but I don't think it is for you."

"In other words, I'm no Romeo?"

"You said it, not me." But her smile was a little sad. "I think you felt this wound. Very deeply. So the quote is not apt."

"No. But it's the only quote I could think of that mentions a scar."

She laughed lightly at this. Elsie was used to him hiding behind the words of others, especially Shakespeare. She supposed it was better than the alternative, which was silence, but only marginally so.

Now, the silence grew awkward between them. He was looking gently, lovingly at the photo while she sat waiting for him to speak. Why hadn't she thought to have tea ready? He had brought sherry the other evening. She decided she would offer tea; that would at least be something. But he spoke before she could offer.

"You've one upped me, Mrs. Hughes." He voice sounded dejected, but he was smiling.

"How so?"

"I was intending to give you something this evening, but it is not nearly so fine or thoughtful as this."

"Anything given with sincerity is thoughtful, Mr. Carson."

"You might want to withhold judgment until you've received it."

She scolded herself for her speculation of what 'IT' might be.

From his inside coat pocket Mr. Carson produced a small, square envelope. "I wanted to thank you... for your help with Grigg... and for listening to me moon over Alice."

She opened the envelope on which her full name was written and extracted... "A Valentine?"

"I know it is late…"

"Or perhaps it is just very early."

"No. It is definitely late." A tone of true regret did ring in his voice, but only fleetingly.

"As the saying goes, 'better late than never'." She assured him.

"I am glad you think so."

She smiled at the red tissue paper heart clumsily pasted onto the plain cream stationary. The corners of the card were decorated with ink squiggles, which she finally recognized as her initials, EMH. "Did you make this yourself?"

"I could hardly ask for help making it, no matter how sorely I needed it. But a valentine seemed appropriate since it was on St. Valentine's Day that you first met with Grigg. The shops did not have any left when I was last in the village." His ears were tinged red and he apologized. "It's rather pathetic, but I must ask you to remember what you just said about sincerity."

"It's lovely, Mr. Carson." She barely controlled her voice as she looked across the table at him. She continued to gaze at his gift to her.

"Are you afraid to open it? I know you doubt my poetic talents, but I promise it isn't terrible."

"I just hope it doesn't read 'We shout and scream and wail and cry, but in the end we must all die.'" She teased.

"I did consider that, but I didn't want something that rhymed. It made it seem trite." His smile was easy and genuine, as most of his interactions with her had been of late.

"So, in the end you decided on…" She opened the simple card. "'Thank you for your kindness and your friendship. I would be lost without either. C. Carson.'"

It was Mr. Carson's turn to look at his hands in embarrassment. The words sounded more personal than he had intended when she read them aloud. But they were true, so he had to accept them, however they might sound. Finally, Mrs. Hughes cleared her throat and managed to say, "Thank you, Mr. Carson, I'll admit, that is better than I was expecting; much better. But you aren't supposed to sign it."

He looked up, perplexed at this. "Why ever not?"

"The recipient is supposed to wonder who sent it, that's part of the fun."

"But who else would send you a valentine?" He sounded indignant, but his expression told her he was not entirely serious.

"In March? No one. I don't know anyone else that daft." Now that they were teasing again, she felt on surer ground.

"And in February?"

"That is my business to know." She smirked at him. "Speaking of businesses, you could have one writing verse for valentines."

"Do you think?"

"This is quite good and you are always offering some bit of wisdom that could be adapted to the occasion."

"For example?"

"'The business of life is the acquisition of memories. In the end that's all there is.'" She quoted.

"That could be part of the 'In the end we all must die' collection." He offered, chuckling lowly to himself.

"Practical verse, for practical people." She joined his laughter. "You could include, 'People drift in and out of your life, don't they?'"

"Or 'Human nature is a funny business.' I remember you liked that one." He reminded her.

Her side hurt from laughing now. "Or 'There's no need to be sentimental.'"

"I think that would make a lovely Valentine, to the right person." He chuckled defensively.

"Very romantic." She agreed. "Or 'What would be the point of living if we didn't let life alter us?'"

He was laughing harder now, but maintained his dignified composure. "Did I say that?"

"Something to that effect. A long time ago." Her mirth calmed a bit and she wiped a laughter-caused tear from her eye.

"You seem to remember every silly thing I've said."

"Only the very silly things, Mr. Carson. But there are quite a few of those."

"You have a way with words yourself, Mrs. Hughes. I could hire you to work for me at the card company."

"What have I ever said that could be part of your warped valentine collection?"

"How about, 'We must all have our hearts broken once or twice before we're done.'?"

"Wise words."

"Or, 'A broken heart can be as painful as a broken limb.'?" She had relayed her conversation with Anna to him.

"True words, though I am sensing a theme. My contribution could be the 'Broken Hearts' collection."

"It could be a popular line, I would think broken hearts are at least as common as the unbroken variety. Probably more common." He teased. "And think how flattering it would be to receive a valentine that read, "Put this on your desk to show others that you are part of the human race.'"

"You are paraphrasing terribly now. And don't you pretend that hurt your feelings."

"So you are willing to admit that I have feelings?"

"You know what I meant by that. You need to show the staff another side of you. They don't know you the way I do."

"Nor do I wish for them to." The clock in the servants' hall chimed the quarter hour. Mr. Carson looked at this watch and then at her, apologetically. "I should be going. I'm expecting a wine shipment tomorrow and have some paperwork to prepare. Thank you for an entertaining evening, Mrs. Hughes. I can't think when I last laughed so much. And, if you are ambitious enough to start producing valentines cards, you are free to use anything I've ever said. I shall not accuse you of plagiarism."

"You are very kind."

With that, Mr. Carson exited the room in his smooth and deliberate way, shutting the door behind him. Elsie smiled at her gift of paper. The valentine was crudely but lovingly made and to her it was more valuable than any gift of silver. Finally, she sighed and rose to place the valentine on her desk. As she did, she noticed that he had left the framed photo behind. It was laying, face down on the table. Silly man. He wasn't usually so forgetful.

His knock sounded on her door and he peered in, tentatively.

"I'm sorry to disturb you again, Mrs. Hughes."

"But you forgot your picture." She picked it up and handed it to him.

"Did I? Oh, of course." He barely glanced at it as he accepted it.

"That's not why you came back?"

"No, well, yes, but no."

"Well, thank you, that's cleared that up."

"I was only going to ask…that is, I was wondering. Should you like to take a walk tomorrow?"

"A walk? I suppose so. The weather is turning very fine. But where would we walk?"

"Just… to the corner?" He raised his eyebrows, hoping she took his meaning.

She was still confused by this turn of conversation. "The corner of what?"

He beamed at her perplexed expression. "I'll leave that for you to decide. Any corner will do as far as I am concerned." And he left before she could answer.

Her confusion cleared when she remembered what he'd said earlier. In those days you were lucky if you got to walk them to the corner.

Elsie blushed and smiled. Any corner will do, indeed.

CE—

A few weeks and several walks to the corner later, they were in the garden when he surprised her again. "Dr. Hughes," he began; it had become his pet name for her. He couldn't bring himself to call her Elsie yet, but he liked calling her something besides Mrs. Hughes when it was only the two of them. "Your advice not to bury the past was well given and I am the better for following it. And your gift was very thoughtful, but the truth is, it is such a fine and modern frame, it deserves a modern photo. I've several other frames that will do for Alice's photo."

"What do you mean, Mr. Carson?" Did she dare call him Charles yet?

He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. This was a bad idea. But he was already in too deep to back out now. "When you are next in Ripon, would you consider having a portrait taken for me?"

She tried to hide her shock and subsequent smugness. "We see each other every day, Mr. Carson. Why ever would you need a photo of me?"

"For the days when you are angry with me. It would be nice to be assured of seeing your smile."

This made her laugh. "Then don't make me angry with you."

"Sound advice, but I don't seem to have yet mastered that skill. Nor am I likely to."

"But would it be appropriate for you to have my picture on your desk?"

"Well, it would hardly be appropriate to keep it in my room."

"I should think not!"

"Well? Would you? I think it is an important step towards my full recovery, Dr. Hughes."

"When you put it that way…I suppose I could, Mr. Carson. I must say, you are healing much faster than even I could have hoped."

"I have an excellent physician. That can make all the difference."

The scent of early spring flowers filled the air as they turned back towards the house. As they walked underneath a topiary archway, he took her hand and pulled her to a stop.

"I've been thinking about our valentine business."

"Have you? And what have you been thinking?"

"I believe we were over thinking it. Simplicity and sincerity is best." He turned her gently to face him fully.

She somehow found the breath to answer, "Is it?"

"There is only one message that can ever matter…" She couldn't speak now. He was so close to her under the canopy of green. He still held her hand and smiled down upon her. "I love you."

She looked up at him, her smile scaling the heights to reach him, so far above her. "And I love you."

After that day they would continue to share words of joy and anger and fear and hope, but they always ended every day with three simple words; the only three words that could ever matter between two people.

-THE END-

A/N This was a bit of a Frankenstein story, combining several ideas that struck me from 4.4. I am still 'technically' on hiatus but I can't stay away. This was my attempt at drabble, but ended up much longer (and sappier) than I intended. I simply cannot control these two.

Please review if you have the time.