Summary: Bates' first servants' ball after his arrival at Downton Abbey.
Disclaimer: I don't own Downton Abbey. It would be rather a lot of fun if I did, but I don't.
A/N: As near as I can tell with the wonky DA timeline, this story should take place somewhere between episode 2 and episode 3 of S1. Reviews make my day.
Bates watched her dance with Lord Grantham, more envious of the man's ability to take those slow, simple steps unassisted than he could ever be of all the wealth and privilege represented by a title and landed estate. Anna held herself rigid and straight-backed as she looked up at her dance partner, an easy smile playing across her face. It was clear the housemaid enjoyed not only the festivities, but the rare opportunity to glide across the floor and, for a time at least, pretend to be more than a servant. While she was entirely proper with her employer, Bates could tell that she was comfortable dancing with him. He wondered how many years they'd had to perfect their routine.
"Shouldn't you have danced with her Ladyship?" came a snide remark from off to his left. Glancing over, he noticed that Ms. O'Brien had located his solitary spot in an alcove overlooking the scene. His eyes then went to the Dowager Countess, who was in the midst of a conversation with Mary on the far side of the room.
"His Lordship exempted me from the task," Bates returned calmly. "But I was surprised to see that you were not in the first round. Surely Mister Crawley could have partnered with you, considering he has been acknowledged as the heir."
O'Brien made a sour face at the suggestion and sneared, "I'd sooner dance with a hall boy than the likes of him."
Bates made no response. With an irritated glare, the lady's maid left him alone and wandered over to talk to Thomas on the other side of the room. The two exchanged words before looking over to glare at him menacingly. Bates paid them no mind. In the months since he'd arrived at Downton, he had learned to ignore the pair and their unpleasantness.
The song ended and the partners on the dance floor separated with awkward bobs and curtsies by the younger participants and indulgent nods and smiles from those more experienced. Carson was making his way through each of the Crawley women and had claimed Lady Sybil as his next partner. The young woman seemed genuinely happy to fulfill the obligation, gazing at the older man as she might a beloved uncle. Elsewhere, William awkwardly tried not to step on Lady Edith's toes as the next dance began and Matthew Crawley's eyes followed the now partnerless Anna for a moment before he found himself in the path of a well-dressed Mrs. Patmore. With an indulgent smile, he took the cook's hand and began the next dance.
For the first time since the ball had begun, Anna found herself without a partner and made her way across the room to Bates' position.
"I thought you weren't coming," she said with a hint of surprise.
"Your arguments were very persuasive. The music and atmosphere are lovely, indeed."
Upon hearing him say he had no plans to attend because he could not dance, Anna had done her best to convince him to come to the ball anyway. When he'd made a not so subtle remark about having to stand on the sidelines being a painful reminder of his limitations, Anna had responded that there was more to the ball than just dancing.
"Did you dance when you were in service before you went into the army?" Anna asked.
"A little. But the family I worked for when I was a footman did not have a servants' ball."
"That's a shame."
"You dance very well," he complimented her, just to keep the conversation alive and to refocus it on where it ought to be - her. He was poor company when he brooded about his own circumstances, and in her Sunday best clothes, Anna looked a picture of beauty. Bates could not help but enjoy every moment spent in her company. He knew he should feel guilty in monopolizing her free time, but he indulged himself anyway as he counted her as one of his only real friends in the house.
"I get by well enough," she allowed. "But you should have seen me when I first came here. I was so nervous that I nearly fainted one year when Mister Patrick asked me to dance."
Bates chuckled at the image of a young Anna overcome with nerves in trying to partner with the heir to the estate. "How old were you" he asked, "when you first came here?"
"Oh, it was at least ten years ago so I must have been seventeen," she answered.
That put her age at twenty-seven. Bates let the air in his lungs escape slowly as he did the math. She was only twenty-seven years old. And yet, she was mature and trusted enough to not only serve as the head housemaid but also perform as de facto lady's maid to all three Crawley sisters. Still, she was far younger than he and for a moment he realized guiltily that he'd been harboring a burgeoning attraction for her which was inappropriate for more than one reason.
They were only friends, he reminded himself. And even if he found the housemaid both pretty and kind, she would never view him in a romantic light. There would be no disappointments between them.
"It must have been difficult for you, to give up everything you'd ever known to come and work here," he ventured.
Anna nodded slightly, but with a glance about the room, she stated, "It wasn't too bad, of course. I've always enjoyed the work, and the family is fair and understanding."
"You're right," Bates allowed. "Lord Grantham is extremely fair. Else I wouldn't still be here."
His first few months at Downton had been bumpy and difficult, but they'd managed to smooth over the rough patches and settle into a rhythm. Bates knew his limitations and worked around them as best he could, leaving Carson and William to pick up the slack while Thomas complained about it enough to be more irritating to the other men than the extra work itself.
"When I was younger, I used to wonder what it would be like to have a different life," Anna ventured. "Maybe to live on a farm and have a cart full of children to bring up. But that's not the fate than God seems to have planned for me. Well, God and my mother," she amended.
"Don't you have a say in the matter?"
"I do. But it is such a good position, and I enjoy working here. Service isn't for everyone, but I can't imagine having gone down a different path."
She sounded wistful, almost apologetic in her musings. But Bates could picture her with children very easily. She seemed to have a natural maternal quality about her.
"It isn't too late," he said, "for the farm and cart full of children."
Anna blushed as her gaze went back out to the dance floor. "Perhaps not," she stated, "but I'd miss the excitement."
"The drama of a flawed dinner," Bates ventured, "or a shirt which did not get mended?"
Smiling, she answered, "Yes, exactly. And the people."
Bates knew that she got on with Gwen very well, and she treated William like a younger brother. Anna served as a trusted senior servant and obviously was held in high regard by both Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. Even Thomas was civil to her when the valet was not around. But as she looked up at Bates, he suspected that she was not referring to any of the others.
"Understandable." He swallowed, looking away.
"Do you miss being in the army?" Anna asked.
Lord Grantham had posed that question to him once, and he'd given it little thought at the time. He did miss his military career, the respect and sense of belonging he'd experienced from his fellow soldiers in those days. Of course, back then, before his injury, his future looked much brighter. Now, he was lucky to hold the position he did, and the precariousness of it was worse than anything.
But he could tell Anna none of that. She claimed not to pity him, but she did feel sorry for him sometimes, when she noticed him grimace in pain at an odd moment or sigh to himself as he made the long journey to the attics. While he appreciated her empathy, he much preferred it when she seemed to have forgotten about his injury completely.
"I miss the camaraderie," Bates stated truthfully. "You get used to people and routines and your role in a greater purpose. I suspect if I ever leave here, I would miss Downton for the same reasons."
"Well, I hope you have no plans to go," Anna told him, "because I know I'd miss you if you went."
With a shy smile, he noted, "You're very kind. I doubt anyone else would even notice me gone."
"That isn't true."
Before they could speak further, Anna's attention was drawn away by William, who was seeking her out for the next dance. Bates pushed away the wave of jealousy as she nodded to him before stepping out onto the floor with the blond-haired footman. They made quite a pair together, even if William was a bit younger and less sure-footed. While the young man clearly had eyes for Daisy, his attention was entirely on Anna for the dance and she smiled and chatted with him as they moved about the floor.
The dance with William was followed by one with Dr. Clarkson, after which Anna took another break and sought out the valet once again. He'd finally taken a seat at one of the tables at the edge of the room and she claimed the empty chair beside his.
"Having fun?" he asked.
"I've always loved dancing," she told him. "And this is the one time a year for me to get my fill."
With a hint of envy, he said, "You're obviously a very sought after partner."
Anna averted her eyes demurely. "I don't know about that..."
As if to demonstrate his point, Carson made a slow approach to their table and both stood to attention out of habit more than anything else. While the butler waived at them to be at ease, Anna remained standing.
"Anna, would you like to dance?" the older man asked her, although the fatigue in his voice betrayed that the request was more out of duty than desire. After all, as the most senior male member of the staff, he was expected to do his duties to those both upstairs and down. Having attended to all the ladies, he seemed ready to pay his courtesies to the female servants.
"Actually, Mister Carson, I was thinking of sitting the next one out," she said apologetically. "I'm afraid my stamina isn't as up to snuff this year. But I don't believe Mrs. Hughes has had a partner for some time..."
With a nod, she indicated the housekeeper standing by herself across the room, smiling and swaying slightly with the music.
"Oh. Well..." the butler murmured, standing up straighter. The older woman looked across at that moment and met his eyes with a small smile. "If you're certain," Carson said even as he moved away from Anna towards Mrs. Hughes.
Bates watched as the butler exchanged a few words with the housekeeper before leading her onto the floor. Mrs. Hughes glowed a bit as Carson took her hand and they began a slow waltz. She smiled a little more brightly and in turn, the butler's face softened to an expression rarely witnessed.
Glancing at Anna, Bates raised his eyebrows with a meaningfully look. "They seem very cozy," he remarked just loud enough for her to hear.
She in turn shook her head with a barely restrained grin. "I wouldn't that to either of them if I were you, Mister Bates," she advised. "I made that mistake years ago and got quite the dressing down."
"I wouldn't dream of it," he intoned, although his amusement was not dampened. But as he watched the couples moving about the floor, each enjoying their few precious hours away from service and toil and the expectations of their role in such a household, he sighed wistfully.
Dancing was but one small pleasure denied to him by fate. Even Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson, whose statuses downstairs precluded the joys of life outside of service, were free to dance on this one evening, to lose themselves in a socially acceptable embrace. But he could not have even that. And while he might be able to rise above that disappointment, the dancing was a social obligation he'd failed, not only in partnering with Lord Grantham's mother, but also in being another male at a ball with so many women. It set him apart even more keenly.
"Funny," Bates said aloud. "I've spent so much of my life alone, and yet even now, among all these people, I've never felt more lonely."
"I always feel a bit lonely this time of year," Anna told him softly. "I expect it is the same for a lot of people. But you aren't alone, Mister Bates."
She reached out a hand to touch his arm. While he could not feel the warmth of her fingers through the thick fabric of his jacket, the simple contact was electrifying. He so rarely felt the touch of another person any more. He might brush past people on the stairs or catch their fingers when passing a plate at the dinner table, but rarely did someone ever have occasion to actually touch him.
Anna withdrew her hand quickly enough, her eyes cast downward as though to pretend that nothing at all had occurred. When she looked up at him again, he smiled at her warmly. Having someone, a friend, made everything just a little easier to bear. It did not have to mean more than that, this feeling he'd noticed growing inside.
"The ball will be over soon. You should be out there dancing," Bates told her.
"I'm perfectly content where I am." She leaned back in her chair as though to emphasize her statement before asking, "So where did you grow up, Mister Bates? I'm not sure I can quite place your accent..."
She listened and asked questions as he proceeded to tell her a little about his background and a few anecdotes from his childhood. For once, their conversation was not interrupted by the ringing of a bell or the end of a meal. Instead of snatches of discussion stolen between chores or during a quiet moment in the servants' hall, they were able to actually socialize. It felt almost normal, as though she were a woman he'd met out in the world rather than the basement at Downton.
Bates already knew that he liked the head housemaid. In addition to being kind and cheerful and fiercely loyal, she was bright and thoughtful as well. Her sense of humor lightened his spirit, being neither cruel nor tasteless, but still just a bit improper in the odd moments when propriety had no place. In turn, Anna always seemed to show particular pleasure in his company. Her smiles and laughs were infectious and she quickly pulled him from his melancholy mood.
Towards the end of the evening, as the ball began to wrap up, Bates encouraged Anna to accept the invitation to dance by one of the hall boys, a shy lad he suspected had a crush on her. As she walked out with him for once not being the shorter partner of a pairing, Bates stood from the table to allow some of the other servants a moment to sit. Mrs. Patmore thanked him for his seat as she lowered herself into it without preamble, sighing with relief as she took the weight off her feet.
Bates took up his former position near the doorway, but as he did so, he noticed the Dowager Countess taking her leave. She did not see him, nor did Lord Grantham as he walked his mother towards the front door of the house. "I'm sorry we had to break with tradition, Mama," Bates heard his employer say.
His heart sank as he realized the Earl meant the dance which by tradition she should have shared with her son's valet. Bates blinked against a stinging shame in his eyes as he tried not to overhear more. He hated that he was a cause for compromise by Lord Grantham and the family. But before Bates could lambaste himself with too much guilt, the older woman stated archly, "Well I'm not sorry in the least. It was a tedious tradition. At least something good came of your eccentric hire of a lame valet in that I'm no longer forced to put up with some strange man treading on my toes every year."
Chuckling inwardly at her convivial tone, Bates felt a bit of relief. If her Ladyship did not mind discontinuing the tradition, then he had less reason to feel badly about it. Of course, in his younger days, he'd have performed ably enough. But it was no use ruminating on the past, not when he had a genuine future before him.
Across the room, with her hands balanced on the shoulders of the eager hall boy who was easily a foot shorter than her, Anna flashed him a smile.
fin