Spoilers: S1.3-4
A/N: I adore the way no one can keep a secret on this show to save their lives. (Or very few) With Anna and Bates romance, everyone just suddenly seems to know. I have to think there's more to it.
i. Mrs. Hughes
Usually, Mrs. Hughes was the first to catch wind that something was up with the young women with whose welfare she was charged. But perhaps, after all these years, she was losing a step. Because she hadn't seen this coming at all.
"Mr. Bates, whatever put this idea in your head?" she scolded as she swabbed the infected sores on his bare leg.
The valet was in a chair in her sitting room, having been bodily dragged there by Mrs. Hughes after she discovered his self-induced injuries caused by a steel brace. He was paler than usual, biting his lip and clutching the towel covering his lap for modesty as the housekeeper sterilized his wounds.
"The maker assured me it would lessen my limp," he gasped.
"You didn't believe that?" she said, settling back on her heels and looking up at him, incredulous. "Where did you find this doctor?"
"It wasn't a doctor," he grumbled. "It was off an advertisement in a gazette."
"Oh, then it must have worked!" His crestfallen expression stopped her tirade. "But Mr. Bates, why? You're doing well the way that you are. Your limp is a badge of honor, in my mind."
"I need to keep up," he said stubbornly.
"You keep up just fine," she insisted, swiping more alcohol on a particularly deep wound until he gasped. "I didn't think that you cared a whit what the likes of Thomas or Miss O'Brien believed of you or your abilities."
"I don't," he whimpered, staring at the ceiling to fight the pain.
"Those that count think the world of you...Mr. Carson's come around—" She had to take her own bitter medicine too. "And myself."
He forced on a smile, even as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.
She began to dab salve on the abrasions. "And look at Anna. Why, she's the best judge of character I've ever met, and she liked you right off."
As she'd spoken, Mrs. Hughes' hand was resting on his thigh and the way his limb went rigid made her think that her touch was too high. And then it struck her; the reason why a sensible and proud man would do something so utterly foolish. She silently cursed her own blind stupidity.
While she groomed the young maid to someday step into her shoes, her certainty in Anna's independent spirit had made her lax. After all, the girl firmly turned away any footman's flirting and kindly rebuked the interest from the bachelor farmers who were captivated by her giggles and shining head at the local balls. Anna loved to dance the evening away, but that was where it all ended.
Oh yes, Mrs. Hughes had had a moment of worry when the maid had walked out a few times with one particular farmer's son up from York, Tim Drewe, who cut a more sophisticated figure than most of the local yokels. But Anna seemed to lose interest before things could go as far as an understanding, and he married another girl. That had been years now, and the housekeeper had become complacent, it seemed. And yet here was a man who couldn't even dance catching Anna's fancy—
Wrapping gauze around his leg as quickly as possible, she rose.
"Yes, Anna's been very kind," he said gloomily.
"She's not one to waste her time on someone who's not worthy," Mrs. Hughes said quietly. Her hands folded at her waist, she looked down on his bowed head.
What should she do about this?
"I want you to make a vow for me right now, Mr. Bates."
He raised his head. "Anything, Mrs. Hughes."
"Promise to never do something this silly again. You cannot cure yourself. What's done is done."
His gaze, which had held hope, turned melancholy. "What's done is done," he echoed.
"Are you going to promise me?" she demanded.
"I promise," he said but she didn't believe him.
"Come along then," she said briskly.
Confused, he pushed himself up from the chair and snagged his pants off the back. "Excuse me," he said with an much dignity as he could muster.
She turned away and listened to him get dressed with grunts of pain.
"Where are we going?" he asked when finished.
"To the far pond by the folly. It's nice and deep."
He still looked perplexed.
She nodded toward his discarded brace leaned against the wall. "So you won't get any bright ideas to go back on your vow."
He went to pick it up but winced.
Looking around, she found a green blanket to wrap the tortuous apparatus. "Can't be having anyone see this," she said, thinking Anna would probably be out in the corridor.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes," Bates said, opening the door for her.
"Let's take this down to the pond then and chuck it in," she said, tucking her bundle under her arm.
John Bates smiled, truly smiled, for the first time since she'd met him. A boyish grin spread across his well-traveled face and his hair flopped down across his brow before he swept it back. Mrs. Hughes had to admit that he possessed a certain charm.
ii. Thomas and Miss O'Brien
Still fuming from Mr. Bates shoving him into the wall and threatening him over some soppy footman, Thomas paced the courtyard, puffing on his cigarette.
Miss O'Brien hissed at him from the shadows: "What are you on about?" Tendrils of smoke rose above her head, twisting like her curls.
"That bastard Bates-"
"What's he done now?"
"Nothing," growled Thomas.
"Doesn't look like nothing," O'Brien noted.
"We've got to get rid of that bloke-"
"We?" she said silkily. "I was left behind to toil away while all the rest of you went to the fair."
Used to her complaining, Thomas just patiently pointed out: "You could have come."
"Like I want to go around some village fair with a bunch of bumpkins," she sneered. Then she gave a pained smile. "But it's just as well that I stayed behind."
He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"The high and mighty Mr. Bates paid a call at the women's corridor door tonight."
"What the hell would he do that for?" sputtered Thomas.
"Unlike you, he apparently is interested in what lies on the other side. Or rather, one lady in particular."
Thomas sidled up next to her. "Who?"
"Another virtuous soul, our very own Anna Smith."
Thomas hooted. "That pathetic old fool!"
O'Brien inhaled deeply from her cigarette. "I don't know about that. That little miss was there at the door in nothing but her nightdress and not bothering to hold her shawl too tightly, I'll tell you. Bare feet like some common farmgirl," she muttered.
"Oh my," Thomas said with a smirk.
"Indeed," agreed O'Brien.
"We must do our duty," Thomas decided. "And tell Mr. Carson."
"No worries. It'll be my pleasure," she said grimly.
iii.
Anna entered Mr. Carson's pantry and looked from the butler to Mrs. Hughes. It was the housekeeper's worried expression that gave it away.
Her little chin came up. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Carson?"
He gave a nod. "Close the door and take a seat, please, Anna."
Perching on the edge of a straight-backed chair, Anna wiped her nose with a handkerchief, still fighting off her cold. "What is it?" she said evenly.
The butler stood before her with his hands clasped behind his back. "It's been brought to my attention that a man came to the women's door last night and that it was unlocked for him. Do you know anything about this?" His deep voice resonated with great disappointment.
The maid's calm gaze remained level with his. "I have no idea. I was sick in bed all evening," she said. "Who's been saying this?"
Mrs. Hughes' breathing hitched. Her Anna was lying for a man. And the smart lass knew just how to get out of it; insinuate those malcontents Thomas and O'Brien were up to no good as usual.
Rocking on his large feet, Carson pursed his mouth. " I can't imagine you being a naughty girl, but you must understand, men have certain base urges and cannot be trusted-"
Mrs. Hughes was suddenly visited by hysteria bubbling up within her. She looked at Anna and could see the same fit of giggles threatening the maid.
Anna took a deep breath before speaking. "Yes, Mr. Carson. I completely agree. I don't trust Thomas in the least."
"That's not what I meant," sputtered Carson. "You are a very loyal friend, as you were with Gwen—"
"I'll say again what I said then; we have the right to our privacy." She raised an eyebrow and stared down the butler. "Secrets can be poisonous, wouldn't you say, Mr. Carson?"
Surprising Mrs Hughes, he relented. "Indeed, Anna."
The maid rose from the chair, her spine rigid with indignation. "I'll be going then. I'm still not feeling at full strength."
Mrs. Hughes finally spoke up. "Yes, my girl. Drink some tea with honey and have a sit."
A heavy moment of silence hung over the pantry after Anna closed the door sharply.
"I think that went as well as could be expected," Mr. Carson finally said.
Mrs. Hughes took the chair and tucked her feet under it. "If you say so, Mr. Carson."
He glowered. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't gone to that fair—"
"What, am I to lurk in a parapet now, up by the door? To keep Mr. Bates from being overcome by passion and bashing through?"
"You don't believe-"
"Then why are you accusing them?"
"I'm not accusing them of anything—Do you think something is going on?"
Her heart softened at the genuine concern she saw on his face. She had to look away when she lied too. "No, Mr. Carson."
"But something could happen?" he said with great perception.
She would concede that with a quick nod.
He made that familiar rumbling sound in his throat and changed the topic. "You enjoyed the fair?"
Now it was her turn to raise her chin. She wasn't quite ready to talk to him about Mr. Burns and her quandary. "Very much. Are we done here?"
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Hughes," he said quietly and she stormed out just as Anna had.
Later that evening, after supper was finished, Mr. Bates left the table before anyone else. The others slowly drifted away. In the corridor, Mrs, Hughes spotted Anna heading to the courtyard with a determined stride. Something told the housekeeper that the younger woman was on the hunt.
Taking her keys in hand so they wouldn't jingle, she followed. Just outside the door, still in the shadows, she slipped into the game locker, moving through the corpses of rabbits and pheasants hanging from the rafters until she was at the crack which afforded her both a view and a listening post. Over the years, Mrs. Hughes had learned that it did no good to ambush courting maids. It only flushed them out like wildly flapping woodcocks startled by spaniels. If she wanted information, she needed to be more stealthy...
Anna was ranting at Mr. Bates, "—Bleeding cow," as she paced.
He was trying to calm her. "Surely Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson would not believe such slander—"
"As though anything untoward was going on! Me with my head stuffed with cold and a red nose—"
Through the opening between the boards, Mrs. Hughes had an excellent vantage of John Bates' tall figure leaning on his cane. He was watching the little maid spinning before him.
The night was still and cold. His words were warm: "You were lovely."
That stopped Anna. She froze before him and looked up into his face. He leaned more heavily on his cane, as though a great weight had settled on his shoulders, but it made him loom over the young woman. Mrs. Hughes' breath caught.
Then he spoke again: "You should get back in. You're not free of that cold yet and I'd hate for it to settle in your chest."
Anna crossed her arms across her breasts as though he'd said something wicked.
"I must speak to Mr. Carson," Bates insisted. "I can't have him thinking that you were to blame—"
"I told you, it's got to be that Miss O'Brien—"
He nodded. "Nearly everyone was gone to the fair, even Mrs. Hughes. I asked Miss O'Brien if you'd had dinner. She must have followed me as I went up with the tray, the snoop—"
In her hiding place, Mrs. Hughes gave an exasperated sigh.
"Yours was simple kindness," Anna said, her voice flat as she turned away. "And they're trying to make it something dirty and foul."
The housekeeper could see Mr. Bates's expression and its painful yearning. But when Anna turned back, his bland mask was in place. "Please, Anna, go inside," he rasped.
"Just promise you won't confess to Mr. Carson," she demanded even as she headed toward the entrance. "There's no need. Truly."
"For now," he relented, taking a few halting steps after her. "But I won't see your virtue questioned—"
Mrs. Hughes could finally see Anna's face. The light of the first floor windows lit her features. She was smiling impishly. "I'll take care of my virtue, Mr. Bates. You just keep a watch for those two devils."
They passed within a foot of the housekeeper and she suddenly felt like a spy as low as Miss O'Brien. Right then and there, she decided to keep her counsel. Anna had been right; sometimes secrets should remain unsaid.
~ end part 1