This story is a continuation of "May Day". I'm not trying to blackmail you into reading other fics, but I doubt you'll understand this unless you read that first. I think you'll especially need to read the last chapter, because this one parallels and directly follows that one.

Train to Downton Abbey 1902

Elsie could still hear the soft echo of his words in her ear, "I want you to think of me and know that I will be thinking of you as well." She answered, "Charles, my love, I will be thinking of you often," and snuggled closer against his chest. It was the oddest thing that his chest, instead of being warm and soft, was cold and hard. Then a sharp jolt awakened her from sleep, and she nearly fell off her seat. Regaining her balance, she looked around quickly to see that none of the other passengers was paying any attention to her. She checked her handbag instinctively and was reassured to find it still securely between her and the window. Grimacing at the sharp pain that shot through her neck, she thought that falling asleep on the train with her head against the window was not the best idea she'd ever had. Neither was dreaming of him, but she supposed she had no choice in that matter.

It would take no genius to guess why she'd dreamed of him. She was going to his home. That is, it had been his home. She still felt a little uneasy about that, but she had been very careful to check. A Mrs. Dunsmore was the housekeeper she corresponded with, not Mrs. Carson, and she had inquired of a ladies' maid that she knew regarding the Earl's valet. His name was Mr. Hathaway, not Carson. He must have moved on. For all she knew he had stayed in America to find his fortune there. A wave of sadness threatened and was quickly suppressed at the thought that he might very well have found a bride there as well. She found herself wondering whether he had children and what they might look like before she once again quashed those thoughts. It would do no good to dwell on such things. The past was the past and couldn't be changed. It did hurt, however, that she had so completely misjudged him. She had always considered herself to be a fine judge of character, but obviously she must have confused good looks with decent behavior.

This position had been too good to let pass; head housemaid in the home of an Earl. And when she had answered the advertisement, she had discovered that the housekeeper was an older lady wishing to train her own replacement. It would certainly be a step up for her and the opportunity to rise to as near the top of her profession as was likely possible. Of course, the farmer that she'd been walking out with had offered her his home to keep. Joe was a nice enough man; life with him would have been very steady. She had no doubt that he would provide well for her, and she would have enjoyed raising little Peter. His offer had been very tempting, but in the end, his eyes had not been quite brown enough, or his shoulders quite broad enough, or his voice quite deep enough. He just felt wrong somehow, and for that she blamed Charles Carson.

Once again she reminded herself not to think of him. Most of the time she had no difficulty keeping him from her thoughts, even if it was impossible to banish him from her dreams. It was silly to keep thinking of him. They had only known each other for four days, not nearly enough to really know each other obviously, and he had not been what he had promised. There had been hurt at first and then anger first at him and then at herself for being silly enough to believe such a rogue. She couldn't say that she truly regretted their time together, however, because he had shown her pleasures that she'd never known possible and that had been impossible to find since. A brief surge of panic ran through her at the thought that he might still live in the village of Downton even if he were not still at the house. What would she do if she met him again? Perhaps walking with his wife or with a curly headed boy on his shoulders. She pressed her hand to her chest and closed her eyes against the thought. No; America, it would be best to think he was still in America. If he still lived somewhere near Downton, she would deal with that meeting when, and if, it happened.

She was surprised to be met at the station by a car. Very thoughtful indeed. Not that she couldn't have walked, but it was certainly easier to bring her trunk rather than having to make arrangements for a later delivery. The chauffer informed her that the butler had told him to meet her train, and the man certainly rose in her estimation, someone who cared for the comfort and convenience of those under him must be a fine man indeed. They rode to the house silently after that. When they arrived, Mr. Taylor sent her ahead and promised to deal with her trunk. If everyone was this helpful, she thought she'd get along fine. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and was greeted by a young maid who ushered her into the housekeeper's parlor before she even had a chance to remove her coat and hat.

She stood before the housekeeper's desk enduring her sharp gaze and answered her questions thoroughly and respectively. Her voice didn't even falter as she explained the hiatus in her working history following Holbrook House as needing to take care of family matters. She held herself proudly, but not arrogantly and could tell that the housekeeper was pleased. When they'd finished the necessary quizzing and preliminary explanation of her duties, the crinkled face broke into a smile and she was offered a place to hang her coat and hat.

"Come along," the housekeeper said once Elsie had smoothed her hair down, "You'll need to meet the others, and then we'll let Maggie show you your room. I'll show you the house after luncheon, and you can begin to learn your way around."

She was first taken to the kitchen to meet the cook and staff there. Mrs. Patmore seemed pleasant enough and only a few years older than herself at the most. To the housekeeper's irritation, she offered to take charge of the storeroom key since Mrs. Dunmore would no doubt be busy with the new girl for the next day or two. Mrs. Dunmore declined the offer sweetly and turned sharply on her heel to stalk down the corridor. Elsie quickened her pace and bit back a smile at the obviously long-standing feud between the two.

Mrs. Dunmore stopped before a door and spoke quietly, "You'll need to meet our butler next. He is the senior member of staff, but you should remember that you are under my jurisdiction. Don't worry, he's a bit gruff, but doesn't bite. At least not my maids, he leaves you girls to me."

She knocked briskly on the door and was greeted after a moment by a deep voice inviting them to enter. Elsie's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened. That voice sounded too familiar. Mrs. Dunmore opened the door, and she caught a glimpse of broad shoulders which gave her the briefest moment to steel herself before she met a pair of surprised brown eyes.

"Elsie!" he sounded just as shocked as she felt, and her eyes closed briefly at the pleasure of hearing that voice say her name again.

Mrs. Dunmore was nothing if not an astute woman, and she obviously sensed the tension between them. He thankfully recovered his equilibrium first because she couldn't have spoken if her life depended on it.

He answered Mrs. Dunmore's question and then turned it on her as if in challenge. That angered her a little. What right did he have to be angry? She'd done nothing to him, nothing but wait for a letter that never came. Perhaps he thought she'd come here seeking him. She tried to let him know subtly that she had not expected a Mr. Carson to be at Downton. If she had, she would never have come. As it was, she was already plotting her escape.

His next words cut her to the bone. "Time brings many changes," he said looking at her steadily. Indeed it did when one was as changeable as he. Then she looked at him, studying his face. His eyes had a sadness about them that hadn't been there before, and the lines around his mouth looked as though he spent a great deal more time frowning than smiling. His shoulders and back which had once been straight and held at almost a cocky angle sagged a little. He had changed considerably from the man she'd known. What could have happened to have altered him so much?

She agreed with him and wondered if perhaps she'd been wrong about him all this time. Before she could wonder any further, she was ushered from the room by Mrs. Dunmore. When she looked back over her shoulder, she saw the door shut quietly behind them.

Steeling herself for any questions the housekeeper had for her, she wondered if this was perhaps a path she should have left unexplored.

Reviews are welcome as always.