A/N: Hello again. I could not resist writing a little fic before Series 5 begins. I thought I would try something a little different for me and so this will be a gentle story of Charles and Elsie's friendship. Each chapter will focus on our beloved Chelsie but will include the thoughts of a different character. I want to explore the idea that Charles and Elsie may be genuinely oblivious to the depth of their feelings for the other; perhaps they do not see what seems so clear to everyone else.
It is based during Series 5 and written almost as a series of one-shots. It won't have any huge cliff-hangers or angst as with some of my other stories; it will simply be a light and fluffy, Chelsie tale. And it will not be another epic- it will be about 20 chapters at most! I will aim to post a chapter every other evening at least (I may manage every evening!) and, as always, your lovely reviews and support will spur me on to write faster and update. I hope you enjoy it x
Chapter 1
"Mrs Hughes, are the guest bedrooms ready? Lord Grantham has just informed me that the Ogilvies may be arriving early …" Mr Carson said, as he entered her sitting-room.
"All ready Mr Carson … and I am on my way to do a final check now …" she said, as she hurried past him with a weary smile. He grinned at her understandingly as she made her exit.
To say it had been a busy few days was an understatement; as one set of guests departed another set arrived. Since the recent revelation from Lady Edith and the ongoing indecision of Lady Mary to choose a suitor, it seemed that His Lordship was determined to prove to all and sundry that the Granthams were still a force to be reckoned with.
Mr Carson walked to his pantry, deciding to take advantage of this spare five minutes to catch up on some correspondence.
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"Damn and blast …" he muttered, as Anna walked into his pantry.
"Oh I do beg your pardon Anna …"
"That's quite alright Mr Carson … is there anything I can help you with?" she asked kindly.
"Um no … no thank you Anna … I have run out of ink that is all …" he explained, pointing to the empty ink pot.
"Well I am sure that one of the hall boys could run down to the Village for you …"
"No use I am afraid … I use a particular brand that you can only get from Smith's in York … I will have to leave these letters for now … I should have realised that it needed replacing … it's just been so busy lately … anyway, how can I help you Anna?"
"I wanted to mention Mr Barrow … I am not sure what he is up to Mr Carson but he seems to be upsetting Mr Molesley," she said. Anna did not like to tell tales on another member of staff but she could not abide bullying of any kind; and the gentle footman had seemed very unhappy of late.
"Thank you for telling me Anna … I will speak to Mr Molesley and get to the bottom of it … I will not have Mr Barrow upsetting any member of staff …" Mr Carson said, furious with Thomas, even without the details he knew that if Anna was concerned enough to talk to him, it must bad.
Anna smiled at the stoic Butler; despite his gruffness he had a very kind heart. Just as she was about to thank Mr Carson, one of the hall boys knocked on the door. They both looked towards him.
"Yes Tim?" Mr Carson asked impatiently.
"Mrs Hughes asked me to give you this parcel Mr Carson … she said that she noticed you were running low …" the young lad said, before scurrying out of the door. Mr Carson looked at the parcel in his hands.
"Ink?" Anna asked with a knowing smile.
"Yes … however did she know?" the Butler stumbled, a broad smile on his face, as he gazed in wonder at the ink.
Anna smiled warmly; not at all surprised that the Housekeeper would take care of the Butler in this way.
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The staff sat at the dinner table; Mr Carson at the head of the table. Daisy spooned vegetables onto each plate before handing it to the Butler. He added a ladle of stew before passing the plates down the line. As he came to serve Mrs Hughes; he wordlessly removed the cabbage from her plate, leaving the carrots and suede, before adding the stew. He knew that she disliked cabbage. He then continued to serve the other staff without so much as a pause. Mrs Hughes accepted the plate with thanks; barely even registering this small action, so used was she to his care for her likes and dislikes. Whilst he finished serving the staff, Mrs Hughes buttered his bread and placed it on his plate. Once everyone was served, the two heads of household happily ate their meal. Throughout the dinner, Mrs Hughes regularly topped up Mr Carson's water glass, as they continued to eat.
Anna was mesmerised as she watched the Butler and Housekeeper. She had always known that the two were more than colleagues; certainly they were very good friends. However, she hadn't noticed all of these small subtleties before. Their little kindnesses to each other were so natural and understated, one could barely notice them. However, since the ink delivery earlier in the day; Anna had found herself thinking of the Housekeeper and Butler more and more. They were both such independent and capable people and yet they relied on each other more than she had ever realised; more than possibly they even realised. As Anna smiled, watching the two interact so easily; she realised that the two were totally in sync and, in many ways, the perfect partnership.
"What are you looking at Mrs Bates?" John whispered with a smile from across the table.
"I'll tell you later …" she smiled, before finishing her stew.
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Finally, the Family had retired to their rooms and Mr Carson was free to go downstairs. He headed straight for her sitting-room, wanting to check if she was ok; it had been an extraordinarily long and busy day. He knocked on her door gently and, as normal, entered without waiting for a response. He stopped suddenly inside her room when he realised that Mrs Hughes had fallen asleep in her chair, her open book still resting on her lap. No wonder, he thought, she must be exhausted; she had not stopped all day long.
He was glued to the spot as he gazed at his friend. She looked so peaceful. He felt like he was intruding; it seemed so intimate to watch her sleep. He was at a loss as to what to do. Should he leave her sleeping soundly? No, he couldn't do that; she would get a chill sleeping downstairs in her sitting-room, not to mention a creak in her neck. Should he wake her? No he couldn't, she was obviously exhausted and she looked so serene as she slept. Maybe I could carry her to her room? Good god man, what a thought, you can't do that! What if someone saw you? Even if they didn't see you, to carry Mrs Hughes, would mean holding her, touching her … no, you certainly cannot do that, it would be most improper.
Oh dear god, what am I going to do? As these thoughts ran through Mr Carson's mind, he had still not moved an inch. Goodness, what if she wakes up and finds me standing here like an idiot staring at her, he panicked. He decided he would have to wake her, he really had little choice. He gingerly walked to stand beside her chair. Now what? He thought.
He knelt down on the floor so that his face was at the same level as hers. He gently rested his hand on her shoulder and whispered to her.
"Mrs Hughes … Mrs Hughes … wake up … it's time for bed …" he tried.
He sighed as she continued to sleep, although it made him happy to see the lovely smile on her lips as she dozed. He grinned as he had a thought.
"Come on Mrs Hughes … wake up for this infuriating, stubborn old goat …" he said, hoping she might hear him.
She didn't even stir.
"Mrs Hughes … I may have to drink all of tonight's sherry on my own if you don't wake up …" he tried again.
Nothing. She continued to snooze.
"I may be tempted to throw that ghastly toaster of yours in the bin Mrs Hughes … you know how it scares me … unless you wake up and stop me of course …" he tried one final time.
There was no movement at all as she continued to sleep.
Mr Carson exhaled in desperation. The only way to wake her would be to shout quite loudly and he did not wish to frighten her. He decided to at least remove the book from her hands in case it dropped to the floor and startled her. He gently teased open her fingers as he slid the book from her grasp; he grinned as he noticed how tiny her fingers looked next to his huge hands.
He wondered if he should just leave her sleeping in the chair after all. He could at least try to make her more comfortable. Maybe find something to prop her head upright to avoid a creak in her neck? He looked around the room but could see nothing that would work.
I know! he thought, as he tiptoed to the kitchen and back again.
"There …" he whispered proudly; she did look a little more comfortable.
Right what now? He felt utterly clueless. Perhaps if I removed her shoes? he thought. He knew that he always felt more comfortable without his shoes and he certainly would not be removing any other items of her clothing, perish the thought, he blushed. He bent to unbuckle the Housekeeper's shoes. He managed to undo one shoe and gently remove it, feeling quite pleased with himself. However, as he began to undo the second, his thumb brushed against her stocking.
"Oh my!" he gasped, as he jumped backwards, immediately removing his hands from her foot. Mrs Hughes was his dear friend and colleague and he certainly would never wish to compromise her in any way. I will have to leave that as it is, he flustered, I cannot possibly go anywhere near her foot again. Therefore, the abashed Butler left Mrs Hughes still wearing one shoe.
He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and pinching his nose with the other. This really was not going well; he had failed to wake her up and now he was failing to make her more comfortable. He decided he could at least place a blanket over her to keep her warm and, as it happened, there was one lying over the back of the chair that she was sleeping on. Right, I will have to retrieve it, Mr Carson decided, taking a deep breath before taking on his next challenge. He slowly wound his arm across Mrs Hughes's shoulders and began to softly lean her body forwards, just a few inches. He then began to pull the blanket out from behind her with his other hand. He had to reach down quite a long way to pull the blanket out. As he was doing this, Mrs Hughes flopped backwards, trapping his arm behind her.
"Oh god!" he murmured, trying to move his arm. However, she had snuggled back contentedly against the chair and his arm was well and truly stuck. As he continued to try to remove it, she began to stir and he was terrified that she would wake to find him with his arm pressed up against her lower back and him leaning over her. He remained in that position for what seemed like hours, but every time he tried to move his arm, she began to shift and so he had to still once more.
Finally, after many worrying moments, there was a knock on the door. Oh dear god, Mr Carson panicked.
"Who is it?" he said, as loudly as he dared.
"It's Anna Mr Carson … is everything alright?" she asked from behind the closed door.
"Anna … oh thank god … come in Anna …" he said.
Anna opened the door and stared in disbelief at the sight before her.
"What on earth?" she began to giggle, but then immediately took charge of herself as she could see the Butler's discomfort.
Mr Carson felt the need to explain quickly to avoid any misunderstanding at all.
"Anna this is entirely innocent … I came to say goodnight to Mrs Hughes but she had fallen asleep … I thought I should wake her … but I didn't want to startle her … and I couldn't seem to wake her … so I thought I would make her comfortable … I propped her head … then I tried to remove her shoes … then I thought I would cover her in a blanket so that she didn't get cold … but the blanket was behind her on the chair … I tried to retrieve it but she fell backwards against my arm … I didn't know what to do … my arm is trapped … it's trapped … I know this looks terrible Anna but I promise there is nothing improper … nothing at all … I just wanted to make Mrs Hughes comfortable …" he blustered, finally pausing for breath.
Anna smiled at the lovely man in front of her; he had gotten himself into a right pickle. She was in no doubt that he only had the best of intentions to take care of Mrs Hughes. She could not help but giggle lightly as she took in the sight before her; the scene she viewed warranted many questions and she could not resist a couple.
"Mr Carson … is that a bag of flour on Mrs Hughes's shoulder?"
"Yes … yes it is … I thought it would be soft …" he explained seriously, as if he had chosen the most obvious pillow in the world.
Anna smiled warmly and nodded, noticing the bag had begun to split and there was some flour on the Housekeeper's shoulder as well as on Mr Carson's arm.
"And why does Mrs Hughes have one shoe on and one shoe off?" she asked.
"I tried to remove both but it became … umm … a little precarious …" he replied earnestly.
Anna nodded again, biting her lip.
"And your arm? Surely you could have removed it with a little effort?" she asked. He was a giant of a man and Mrs Hughes was only small.
"I didn't want to wake her … I couldn't have her wake up to find me with my arm … like this … what would she think?" he gasped, nodding towards his trapped arm and then looking at Anna for understanding.
Anna nodded; she did understand, the poor man was mortified. He had tried to help but had ended up in an utter quandary. She needed to help sort this situation.
"Right then, you are going to tilt Mrs Hughes forward towards me … I will hold her whilst you remove your arm …" she whispered, as she stepped in front of Mrs Hughes.
"Ok … but what if she wakes?" he asked, terrified.
"If she begins to wake, then you run out of here as fast as you can … and I'll look after Mrs Hughes … she will never even know you were here …" Anna smiled, giving him a wink.
"Oh wonderful … good … good … thank you Anna …" he said, very relieved.
Mr Carson did as he was asked, and as Anna held Mrs Hughes, the Butler finally breathed out in relief, as he removed his arm. They both laid her softly backwards against the chair. She was still sleeping. He beamed at Anna.
"Now you get yourself up to bed and I will wake Mrs Hughes and get her safely to bed as well …"
"Are you sure? Will you be able to manage? And Anna … you won't tell her about me … about this?"
"No of course not Mr Carson … now go on … she will be fine …" she said, noticing his concerned expression as he gazed at the Housekeeper.
"Thank you Anna … thank you …" he began, as he stood and walked towards the door. He then spun back to face Anna.
"Oh … and Mrs Hughes likes to take a glass of milk up to bed … it helps her to sleep …" he said, and then blushed as Anna beamed soppily at him.
"I only mention it in case she forgets … with her being sleepy and all …" he added, to play down his bashfulness, whilst looking down at his toes.
"I will make sure that I get her a glass of milk Mr Carson … now be off with you …" she grinned.
"Right … good night Anna … goodnight Mrs Hughes," he whispered, as he tiptoed out of the room.
Anna smiled warmly as she watched him leave the room; his fondness for Mrs Hughes was adorable.
After removing the bag of flour and replacing her discarded shoe, Anna gently woke the Housekeeper. Mrs Hughes was a little disorientated at first but happily allowed Anna to help her up to bed. As they reached her bedroom, the housekeeper noticed something on her shoulder; there were little white flecks of something.
"Anna … is this flour?" she asked, still half-asleep.
"Um … no … no … just a bit of dust I think …" Anna replied, as she brushed any remaining spots of flour off the Housekeeper's shoulder.
Mrs Hughes was not alert enough to argue and so she accepted Anna's explanation.
"Oh Anna … Mr Carson … did you see him before he went to bed? Was he ok? His knee was aching terribly this morning … I was going to make him a hot compress to take to bed?" the Housekeeper said drowsily.
"He was fine Mrs Hughes … he said to say goodnight to you," Anna said kindly.
"Ahh good ... that is good," Mrs Hughes breathed fondly, relieved that Mr Carson was well.
As they reached the Housekeeper's bedroom Anna smiled warmly, thinking that if only Mrs Hughes knew how much the Butler cared for her and if only the Butler knew how much he meant to Mrs Hughes.