I love Carson's occasional dips into nostalgia for when the girls were young, and they gave me the idea for this little scene. It's set roughly in 1899, when Mary would have been 8, Edith 7, and Sybil 4, I believe.


Seventeen bottles? No, that couldn't be right. Carson frowned, going back to the beginning. He must have made an error in his calculations somewhere. How embarrassing.

He was busy with pen and paper, murmuring numbers to himself, when he heard small pattering footsteps in the hall outside his room. Looking up, his head still filled with numerically represented wine bottles, he thought crossly that Mrs. Patmore should really discipline her kitchen maid better. The cook was relatively new, but she was still supposed to know how to run a kitchen, and that meant keeping her kitchen staff out of his hair.

But then the footsteps stopped at his door, pausing, and the door opened. A small, serious face poked itself in. "Mr. Carson?"

He couldn't have prevented the smile that rose to his face from spreading across it if he'd wanted to—and he certainly didn't want to. "Yes, Lady Mary. Is there something I can do for you?"

She let herself the rest of the way in, pushing the door closed behind her. "Fraulein Kelder got angry with us for eating all the cakes for tea behind her back … but it wasn't us. I believe Papa's dog got in and ate the cakes when the Fraulein left them on the table."

Carson raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue, but even at the tender age of eight, Mary Crawley knew when to stop talking. "Do you wish me to speak with Fraulein Kelder for you?" He shouldn't even have offered such a thing—he had no business putting the idea into Lady Mary's head that he could intercede for her with the Fraulein. The care of the children was not in the butler's purview. But the truth was that Carson had never been able to say no to Mary Crawley, not since her first cry had echoed through the house.

Lady Mary shook her head decisively. "No, it would do no good. But … if I could only hide away for a little, perhaps she may forget that she was so upset?" Her dark eyebrows rose in her white face, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air. One of the few places in the house Fraulein Kelder would not dare to step foot in was his room, and Lady Mary, already sensitive to the hierarchies among the servants, well knew it.

He nodded gravely, pointing his pen in the direction of a low armchair in a corner, with a basket of books sitting next to it. Lady Mary returned his nod, equally gravely, and tucked herself in the chair with one of the books. The basket had been placed there just for her, as this was not the first time Carson had found himself her haven of refuge. The chair had a high back, and Lady Mary was hidden in it once she had sat down. Carson defied any Fraulein to find fault with him allowing the daughter of the house a moment of rest with a book.

He turned back to his wine inventory, making notes of what needed to be replenished and the vintages his lordship had indicated they shouldn't purchase again. As he blotted the bottom of a sheet, another small set of feet pattered down the hallway. Too light to be Fraulein Kelder. Carson watched the door and waited, and sure enough, there came the sound of a small hand tapping imperiously on the wood.

"Enter," he called, and the door opened to a small, upright figure with tightly wound blonde braids. Her mouth was set in a thin line, her arms crossed over her chest. Not for the first time, Carson wished young Lady Edith would smile more—her rare smiles transformed her face, providing a gentleness that was rarely evident in her.

There was no smile now as she announced, "I know Mary's here. Hiding from Fraulein Kelder."

"What would make you think so?" Carson asked. There was no movement from the little chair, and he imagined Lady Mary shrinking in it, her own somewhat rare smile flashing as she hid from her sister as much as from the governess.

"I know all her places." The simple sentence said much about the contentious relationship between the two eldest Crawley girls, and the one that followed said even more about why Lady Mary generally came out best. Eyes flashing, Lady Edith clenched her little fists and said, "It's not fair! I should get to hide in here, too!"

Carson weighed his options. He could tell Lady Edith to come back when she could be polite, but that wasn't his place; he could gently prod her to ask nicely for sanctuary, but previous experience told him she hadn't the patience or the thoughtfulness to internalize that lesson. No, he really only had one choice. He sighed. "Perhaps you would like to come in and hide here for a little while, Lady Edith."

She gave a short, sharp nod, moving into the room, her eyes darting to and fro as she searched for Lady Mary. Carson could imagine the frown marring Lady Mary's pretty face as she listened to her sister's footsteps on the floor, but there was nothing for it. Lady Edith would have the house down around her sister's head if she thought Lady Mary was getting away with something she hadn't gotten to do.

Lady Edith plastered herself stiffly against the side of a bookcase, hidden there from prying eyes. It looked quite uncomfortable to Carson, but he would never dare mention that to her. She would snap at him for his presumptuousness, then Lady Mary would rise from her chair to reprimand her sister, and eventually there would be hair-pulling. It had happened before, and Carson would prefer never to see it happen again … and certainly not in his room.

There was silence in the room as Lady Mary curled in the chair, Carson worked on the wine list, and Lady Edith remained upright as a poker, concealed by the bookcase. All three of them started when the doorknob turned and the door opened, slowly.

After his initial surprise, Carson was certain long before the door came fully open who would be on the other side—few people in the house were that gentle. And he was right. He couldn't help smiling at the little girl, still with soft round baby cheeks, who stood in the doorway. Those round cheeks had several smears of jam on them. "Yes, Lady Sybil? What can I do for you today?" he asked gently.

"Hello, Mr. Carson." She put her hands behind her back, smiling at him as she twisted back and forth. "Are Mary and Edith here?"

He parried the question. "Why would you think so?"

"Because Fraulein Kelder wants them." She looked over her shoulder, her dark round eyes widening. "Can I hide in here, too?"

"Does Fraulein Kelder want you, too?"

Sybil nodded, slowly and very seriously.

"Did you eat those cakes?"

Another very sober nod.

"Shouldn't you go and tell Fraulein Kelder that it was you, so that your sisters can stop hiding?"

Lady Edith had turned her head and was frowning at her little sister, but only a little. Even Lady Edith couldn't get upset with Lady Sybil.

Lady Sybil bit her lip, looking down at the carpet. "Well … if I wait a little, she'll have her afternoon tea. Fraulein Kelder is always nicer after her afternoon tea."

Carson stifled a laugh. So even the youngest person in the house could tell what the Fraulein's tea consisted of … or at least, how it reacted on her. No one remarked on it openly, of course, and there was no real harm in it, since after tea generally the girls were back in the nursery and Fraulein Kelder was off duty until the next day's lessons were to begin.

"Perhaps, then, your ladyship, in that case … you should shut the door." He winked at her, and a sunny smile spread itself across Lady Sybil's little face. She closed the door carefully behind her and came around Carson's desk.

"What do all these numbers mean?" she asked, looking at the papers spread out over his desk.

Patiently, he began trying to explain them to her. It was enjoyable to be able to talk about what he did to such an interested listener, even if she didn't understand it all. Lady Edith scowled behind the bookcase; Lady Mary quietly turned a page. Carson was impressed with them both—Lady Mary was hardly such a reader as this hour made her seem, and Lady Edith, who would have enjoyed the time spent reading far more, rarely refrained from talking for this long without a book in her hands.

A new set of footsteps was heard in the hall, and each of them froze for a moment, looking up at the door. Hurriedly Carson urged Lady Sybil to sink down behind his desk where she wouldn't be seen.

There was a soft, quick knock on the door before it opened. Mrs. Hughes stood there, unsmiling, and she shook her head at Carson. "Mr. Carson. The whole house is in an uproar. Fraulein Kelder is looking for the young ladies. You haven't seen them, have you?"

He widened his eyes in an effort to seem both innocent and incredulous. Mrs. Hughes' voice was a bit louder than was strictly necessary, leading him to wonder if Fraulein Kelder was just behind her. "I have been in here for the past hour going over the wine lists. Had the young ladies been by, I would have sent them on their way, and smartly, too."

"Oh, would you, now." Mrs. Hughes was studying him, one eyebrow raised. She knew him entirely too well, Carson thought with an inward chuckle. "I'll just tell Fraulein Kelder that all three girls are missing somewhere on the property and no one knows where. Then she's likely to go running to her ladyship, and we'll all be in a pickle."

Out of the corner of his eye, Carson saw Lady Edith's mouth open in a startled o, and next to him, Lady Sybil's face crumpled up as though she were about to cry. "Now, Mrs. Hughes," he said quickly, hoping to forestall any potential outbursts, "let's not be hasty. Perhaps I could have a moment to finish what I'm working on here and then I could come help you and Fraulein Kelder search for the young ladies."

The housekeeper's eyes twinkled. "It should be a short moment, then. Mrs. Patmore can't keep the Fraulein in the kitchen much longer."

"Understood."

Mrs. Hughes withdrew and the door closed. Lady Sybil stood up, her eyes still brimming with tears. "Mr. Carson, Fraulein Kelder won't upset Mama, will she?"

"Of course she won't." He held out his hand to the little girl, getting up from his chair as he did so. "Not if you come out of hiding. I suspect by now she'll have forgotten all about the cakes."

"Fraulein Kelder, forget something we did wrong?" Lady Edith asked, in a tone of irony far beyond her tender years.

At that, there was a soft clap as Lady Mary closed her book. She stood up, looking at her sister steadily. "Perhaps in that case we should all three go to her and apologize. No sense in Sybil taking all the blame."

"Why shouldn't she? After all, she's the one—" Lady Edith caught herself as the tears began to spill over her little sister's lashes. "Never mind, Sybil, I'm sure you didn't mean it. Don't cry." She hurried to her sister's side, putting her arm around the little shoulders. "Mary and I will explain everything to Fraulein Kelder."

"Of course," Lady Mary agreed. A little smile played around her mouth.

Carson imagined she was amused by how quickly Lady Edith had altered her attitude. Those two girls seemed likely to cause each other a great deal of trouble in the future if they couldn't learn to appreciate one another. Unfortunately a task like that one was far beyond a butler's skills to manage, and more governesses of the ilk of Fraulein Kelder would be equally unable to accomplish such a feat. He stifled a sigh and cleared his throat instead. "Well. If that is the plan, perhaps we can move it along. I believe Mrs. Hughes said Fraulein Kelder was in the kitchen?"

Three small faces turned up to his. "Yes, Mr. Carson."

He shooed them ahead of him out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Some days, he questioned his decision to remain in service, and wondered what his own family would have been like had he gone a different way … but days like this reminded him that he had his own family. And he wouldn't have missed a moment of the lives of these three little girls, not for the world.