Downton Abbey, April 1902

"Don't let go, Carson!" Mary ordered, pedaling like mad.

Charles Carson ran head long down the steep, grass-covered slope. He was fit for a man in his mid 40's but he had been chasing the four children around the estate since just after breakfast and was quite out of breath. He spared a moment to think….How did I get here?

Leave it to Mr. Crawley to decide that bicycles were the perfect gift to give all three Crawley Girls at once. Lady Grantham said it was kind of James and Patrick to drop by and pay attentions to the girls. Carson thought it was ghoulish for the heir to Grantham to come visit the children of the current Earl while said Earl was away in Africa fighting for King and Country.

And leave it to Fraulein Kelda to decide that teaching children to ride bikes was not in the job description of a governess. Perhaps it was not, but then how had it fallen to the butler, of all people?

When the scheme of his accompanying the girls out to ride had been brought up at breakfast, Mr. Carson had protested, noting that his presence was needed to prepare and serve luncheon and he could hardly take the whole day off.

That was the wrong choice of phrase.

"But that's exactly what you should do, Carson. What an excellent idea!" Her Ladyship had exclaimed.

"Take the whole day today. I'll tell Mrs. Pearson. She can handle luncheon, it's only family. Roger can serve."

"He's getting much better, Carson." She said, responding to his skeptical look and stopping his harrumph while it was still in his throat. "I insist. I don't want to see you indoors until dinner."

And so, here he was; completely out of his element. A butler was primarily an indoor creature. If he ventured outdoors it was with crisp white tents and tables with crisp white tablecloths and at least a month of planning.

A butler should always reflect the dignity of the house. He did NOT think his current state reflected very much dignity at all. He was in his three piece suit, sweating profusely, with the tie and collar askew, the tails of his shirt slipping out and at least two very visible scuffs on his shoes from having his feet run over.

It had rained the day before, so he also had flecks of mud all over his clothes and face. The girls' play frocks were a lost cause as well, but that was Fraulein Kelda's concern.

The dots of mud had been sprayed at him from the wheels of Mr. Patrick's bicycle. Mr. Carson did not like to think it was intentional, but he had his suspicions. Mr. Patrick had spent the morning literally riding circles around them trying to show off for Mary. He was shouting such helpful hints as, "No, that's not right… Like THIS."

Mr. Patrick's prowess on the bike had not improved Lady Mary's mood any more than it had Mr. Carson's. Lady Mary believed, and rightfully so, Carson thought, if a "twit like Patrick" can ride that well, it should be a simple matter for her.

Carson was glad that she was at least lady enough not to say so to Mr. Patrick's face, but she mumbled words to this effect under her breath to Edith whenever he rode out of earshot. After all, she fumed, she was ten years old and could ride a horse better than any of the stable boys her age. A horse had to be more difficult than a bicycle. But she was allowed to wear pants for horseback riding.

Edith seemed suitably impressed by Patrick and clapped to encourage him. Carson suspected she was doing it just to goad Lady Mary. Edith was a stirrer.

They had begun on the soft level field in front of the folly. But the progress had been too slow.

Mary was sure that, if she only had enough speed, she would be able to steer more easily. But she couldn't generate speed without being able to steer at all. Carson was wary of pushing her too fast, as she tended to change directions suddenly and run over his feet. She was at a loss. They'd had some success using the small slope away from the folly, but it was neither long enough nor steep enough to result in much momentum.

Edith had suggested they come to the hill by the lake for speed. Carson thought this was a very bad idea and said so many times. Lady Mary was about to give into his cautions, but Mr. Patrick chose that very moment to ride by with his hands off the handlebars. He hit a puddle and almost lost control of the bike. He recovered, however, which made the feat even more impressive. Edith clapped enthusiastically.

Right. That decided it.

And so down the hill Lady Mary and Carson now went. Mary did seem to be balancing more on her own, but it was Carson's strong hands that kept her from falling when she finally slowed to a stop in the small flat below the hill.

At six years old, little Sybil had not been granted a 'big girl' bicycle. Her bike was very like her sisters', but it lacked pedals. She propelled herself along by pushing off the ground with her feet. Once she saw Mary careen down the hill, there was no stopping Sybil from having her fun as well.

Carson had barely recovered from chasing Lady Mary, but he looked up the hill and saw the youngest lady rolling down it towards him. The look on her face was pure joy. The look on his was pure panic. She had not thought at all about how she was to stop. The hill ended in a small flat area, but beyond that, there was another drop in the terrain that ended in the lake. Carson thought she had too much momentum to stop in the flat.

Was he now expected to teach swimming?

Thankfully, Sybil was shooting down the hill directly at him, like a dart heading for triple twenty. He moved like a matador, grabbing the handlebars of the bicycle, very like the horns a bull, in one hand as he scooped the child up into the opposite arm. Thus damage to limb and property was avoided. Unfortunately, Sybil decided this was how a bike was meant to be enjoyed. Squealing with delight, she squirmed out of Carson's grip as soon as they stopped spinning, took the handlebars in her tiny fists and started running back up the hill, pushing the bike beside her.

It had been Edith's idea to try to come to the larger hill. She reasoned that the gravity would help them gather speed so they wouldn't have to concentrate on pedaling so hard. She wasn't entirely wrong. Edith was happy to let her sisters test her theory first. She'd watched both Mary and Sybil now and she thought she had the measure of it. She started tentatively down the hill, going at a cross angle to control her speed. It wasn't a bad idea, but Edith was quickly reminded that Gravity was a law that did not bend to the will of an individual. When her momentum got away from her, her feet lost the pedals. Now, she plummeted out of control. The only things connecting her to the bicycle were her white knuckled hands on the handle bars which began to buck wildly from side to side. Her trajectory took her too far away from Carson for him to catch her.

It was Patrick who reached her first. He pulled his bike to a stop; looking down at Edith where she'd fallen at the base of the hill. "It's not the fall that hurts, it's the sudden stop at the end," he offered helpfully before pedaling off almost directly up the hill spraying a bit more mud than was strictly necessary. As Carson picked the child and bike off the ground, he spared a disapproving look for Mr. Patrick. Carson assumed that was what passed for wit at Eton.

"Well, Patrick Crawley, it's not a gentleman's words that prove him, but his actions." Edith called after him. "Thank you, Carson." She said in an unnaturally loud voice. She was four years Patrick's junior, and maybe her retort wasn't as biting as she had hoped, but Carson could see Edith was already sharper than Patrick. At least she wasn't just repeating some witticism she'd overheard. Standards were higher here at Downton. The Dowager saw to that.

Now Mary was back at the top of the hill. She looked at Carson to make sure he was ready to catch her. He raised his brows at her, silently asking if she was sure she was ready to face the hill solo. She nodded with determination and placed both feet on the pedals as the bike began to move. She navigated most of the hill well enough. She hit the flat at an angle that would take her near Carson. Mary was now truly pedaling like mad, trying to keep her momentum. Her concentration was so focused on the front wheel and maintaining her speed, she quite forgot that she was headed directly for the lake.

Carson saw there was nothing for it but to grab Lady Mary off the bicycle at a run as she passed him. However, the result was not as fluid as it had been with Lady Sybil. She had a bit more mass than Lady Sybil and he could not handle the bicycle as well. Mary yelped as she was grabbed under the arms by his large hands. She instinctively let go of the bicycle. It continued sure and true even without a rider. It splashed into the reeds just beside the dock.

"Are you quite alright, my lady?" Carson confirmed her condition as he set her upright on the grass.

"Yes, thank you, Carson. I think I actually rode there for a bit. I just ran out of land."

"It's rather an important element, my lady. But, yes, you did seem to be getting the hang of it. Please make sure Lady Sybil does not come down the hill until I am back from retrieving your bicycle."

He looked up at the top of the hill and caught Lady Sybil's eye. He raised one great hand in a gesture of 'stay' and relaxed when she seemed to understand. Luckily, Carson could reach Lady Mary's bicycle from the dock. He did not want to take off his shoes and wade in after the bike.

There were several more attempts by all the girls as lunch hour approached. They were getting better by leaps and bounds, but Carson was still the only thing that kept Sybil from propelling herself into the lake. Lady Edith had scraped her elbow, but that was the only casualty.

So far.

TBC-

A/N Though training wheels were not invented until 1950 and they are apparently called stabilizers by the Brits, I am still naming this story Training Wheels. I hope it's not too distracting.