This is pretty much a mindless drabble inspired by the rambling book-chats my friends and I sometimes have- Sense and Sensibility is one that we tend to ramble about, so credit to Jane Austen. Also very minor idea-pinching from The Remains of the Day, so further credit to Kazuo Ishiguro. Significant lack of plot in this one.
The Downton Abbey Book Club
"What've you two got there?"
Perturbed more by the tone in which the question was asked than the question itself- it was asked by Thomas- Anna looked up from the book she and Gwen were scanning. The footman was followed into the kitchen by Miss O'Brien.
"Nothing." she replied.
Thomas crossed to the table and picked up "Nothing".
"Sense and Sensibility?" he asked, more than a hint of mocking in his tones, "Though I suppose all you can do for either of those round here is read about them."
Naturally, or inexplicably- she couldn't decide which, Anna suddenly felt defensive.
"I think Mrs Hughes is reading it," she proffered, "We found it on the table just here."
"I shouldn't have thought she'd have approved of that," Miss O'Brien remarked, "Lots of young ladies chasing men around, when she keeps us all under lock and key."
"You've read it, then?" Gwen piped up.
"Certainly, I've read it," the ladies maid replied, leaning against the sink, "Who do you think reads the dreary things aloud to her Majesty of an afternoon? Heaven forbid she should have to turn the page."
"The time you lot spend in here wittering, I'm surprised that any of you can read at all!"
All four of them jumped slightly out of their skins as Mrs Patmore reared her head from the oven. She surveyed what she deemed to be a rather motley crew with a wary eye before letting out a heavy sigh.
"However, I wish that girl would witter at least in the vicinity of the kitchen: I'm damned if I can catch her within a mile of the place when there's any work to be done!"
"Here, Mrs Patmore!"
Daisy came clattering into the kitchen in time to save them all from the earth shattering holler that might have followed had she not emerged.
"And about time too, this lot have founded a library in the time you've been gone."
Wrong tactic, Anna thought. Daisy was now peering at the book in Thomas's hands.
"Who's is it?" Daisy asked, puzzled, "It must be Mr Carson; he's the only one who could afford a book like that."
"It's from his Lordship's library, stupid," Miss O'Brien told her.
"We think Mrs Hughes is reading it," Gwen supplied.
This was obviously a satisfactory explanation as Daisy crossed tot he stove, tying her apron without any further questions. Mrs Patmore, however, drew closer to the group and squinted at the book herself.
"It seems a bit strange, dun't it," Gwen continued, "That she left in here not in her pantry?"
A contemptuous snort issued from Mrs Patmore's direction; this was no surprise to any of them.
"You must be joking," she exclaimed, "Half the free time she gets she spends in here; checking that I'm not sticking my nose into that store cupboard!"
Thomas dropped the volume on to the table rather carelessly. It hit the wood with a dull thud.
"Well, why ever she's reading it, she'd better make the most of it while she can," he told them; his usual air of superior knowledge rife.
"How'd you mean?" Miss O'Brien was the one to ask: he obviously had not imparted his wisdom on his partner in crime this time.
"Well, from what I heard, the old lady's trying to stop the girls reading as much."
He was met by four blank faces. Seeming to be exasperated by their stupidity, he continued in a harsh hushed tone.
"She thinks that they're reading too many novels, that's why Lady Mary won't accept Mr Crawley now and throw him over when he gets passed over. Too many romantic notions she said. And then there's all of that odd stuff Lady Sybil's been reading."
"What odd stuff?" Gwen asked, beating Anna to the question, she hadn't noticed any particularly peculiar reading material in Lady Sybil's room.
"You know, all that stuff about uniting the classes... E.M. Forster and the like. Stuff the old lady would have burned if only she could ask one of us to light the torch for her."
Miss O'Brien snorted this time. It was true that Lady Violet could be mildly eccentric at times, but there was no way they would catch Anna agreeing with it, on the off chance that Mr Carson was around the corner.
"If you ask me anything," Mrs Patmore drew her hands to her hips, "If a girl's bound to maintain silly notions, she'll have them no matter what she reads. Just look at that one," she indicated with her head towards Daisy, "I say, just let them get on with it and they'll grow out of it all the sooner."
With that, the cook turned and returned to her stove. Anna picked the book back up and started to dust the layer of flour that now coated it. She did so just in time, Mrs Hughes entered the kitchen just as the last of it was gone.
"Is there some kind of holiday of which Mr Carson has failed to inform me?" she enquired, seeing the four of them still assembled and then added: "Anna, what are you doing with my book?"
Polishing it, she momentarily considered saying but that was too unbelievable.
"Nothing," was what she eventually settled on, handing the book back to the housekeeper.
"Why do you think Mrs Hughes was reading in the kitchen?"
Gwen could ask some odd questions of an evening, Anna reflected. She shrugged her response as best she could while getting into bed.
"Perhaps her sitting room was draughty."
"No, I mean do y'think she does it for the fun or just to pass the time?"
"I doubt it's to pass the time," was the reply after a moments thought, "She does that by checking the lock on that door still works."
She nodded her head in the direction of the male servants' quarters. Both girls smiled at that and then were quiet for a few moments.
"What do you think the book's about?" was Gwen's next question.
Anna, having been made to read the Pride and Prejudice just before she left the village school found that she was able to conjecture.
"Falling in love and getting married, I expect."
Something seemed to be funny in this as Gwen grinned. Anna gave her a questioning look.
"That proves that she doesn't think the stork brings husbands." she pointed out.
Anna laughed at that.
"Do you think it's any good?"
She shrugged in response, but she had enjoyed reading Pride and Prejudice more than she had enjoyed reading the other things they had been allowed to at school. She had showed potential, and as she was trying to secure a place as a maid the schoolmistress had thought it best to allow her to try and read a real book.
"We should read it. In the evenings."
Gwen had evidently taken leave of her senses.
"We get little enough sleep as it is," Anna pointed out.
"Still, it would be fun. We could take it in turns. I want to see what it says about where husbands come from, as at this rate I'll never get to find out for myself."
That was all it took for Anna to roll her eyes and ask for the light to be switched out.
"What are you reading so intently, Mrs Hughes?"
The sound of the butler's voice made her jump slightly. It was true, she had been rather absorbed and hadn't heard his knock at the door. The light was mellow and it softened his silhouette as he stood before her.
"Just some Jane Austen," she replied, rubbing her eyes and setting the book on the armrest of her chair, "Call me a sentimental old woman if you will."
"Certainly not." he replied.
She surveyed him somewhat warily and then said:
"No, I suppose you're far too chivalrous for that."
No." he answered simply, "I'm older than you, so I can't really call you an old woman, can I?"
She could not help but smile at that.
"You could still say I was ridiculously sentimental."
"Who isn't, at times?"
This suddenly intrigued her.
"What do you get sentimental about?" she asked and immediately regretted it; he suddenly had a guarded look about him. She hadn't meant to pry.
He was looking down at his shoes.
"Just...just former days." was the only response that he could manage.
"Things that might have been?" her momentary regret had clearly ebbed away at an alarming rate and she was all willing to push at him again.
He looked at her sharply and she felt herself shrink back into her chair. It had felt like she had done so by the merest fraction but it was obviously visible as his expression softened somewhat.
"Now you are being ridiculous." he told her firmly.
Am I?
"You're telling me no one's ever come along to... to make you wonder?" It seemed that at some point she had got to her feet, "Maybe even break your heart?"
Why was she asking these things? The words were just out before she could consider or stop them. His face was telling her all she wanted to know, Yes, but damn it woman, stop trying to ask me about it. And it was making her sad. Because she knew her face was returning a consoling, Me too. But mine's you.
Eventually, all he managed to respond was:
"That's service for you, Mrs Hughes," with the accompanying head shake.
" 'What a pity it is,Elinor' said Marianne, 'That Edward should have no taste for drawing.' I feel such fool!"
"This was your idea in the first place!" Anna reminded her, "And I've read the first three chapters, it's your turn now."
"You're much better at it than me," Gwen replied dejectedly.
"Just keep going."
Gwen it seemed, was reading the text to herself before she read it aloud to Anna.
"These two are going on like Lady Mary and Lady Edith," she remarked, "Only Elinor's quieter than Lady Mary is."
"Well, I'll not know until you read the thing to me, will I?"
Gwen scowled before continuing.
" 'No taste for drawing?' replied Elinor, 'why should you think so?'... Do you think Mrs Hughes'll notice we've got this?"
"Well as I asked her if she was finished with it, probably," Anna responded, "And we'll have it for a lot longer if you don't get a move on and read it!"
"Why do you think she doesn't want it any more?"
Anna shrugged.
"Maybe she's read it."
Gwen shook her head.
"I saw it in the library ledger; she's only had it two days, she can't have got through it that quickly."
"Well then," Anna thought, "Maybe it just makes her feel sentimental."
What did anyone think? More, or leave it?