Mr. Carson's eyebrows drew together as he sat at his desk reading a letter. Its contents troubled him deeply. He knew that he bore the responsibility of making certain that Downton Abbey ran as it should, so the serious accusations in the letter must be carefully considered. After some deliberation, he determined that although the tone in which the letter was written was disrespectful, its primary charge was true. And as butler of the great house, he must remedy the deficiency. Folding the missive and placing it in his pocket, he rose from his chair and marched out of his office, prepared to do battle for the honor of Downton Abbey.

#####

"Good morning, Anna," Mr. Carson said, when he found her sewing at the table in the servants' hall.

Anna smiled mischievously. "Shouldn't you call me Mrs. Bates now that I'm a true lady's maid, Mr. Carson?"

"Of course, Mrs. Bates. My apologies."

She laughed. "I was only teasing you, Mr. Carson. I can understand that it takes a little time to break an old habit. You've known me since I was barely more than a girl, after all."

"Perhaps," he answered. "But I of all people should be mindful of appropriate forms of address." After a pause, he relaxed a bit. "I'm just making my rounds. How are you? And how is Mr. Bates?"

"I'm quite well, Mr. Carson, and so is Mr. Bates. He says sometimes he can still hardly believe he's really back at Downton. We're very happy."

"And how fares Lady Mary?" he asked with some concern

"I think she is well, considering the circumstances," Anna observed. "She has her good days and her bad days, as you might expect, but I think the worst, most wretched hours have passed."

Mr. Carson smiled, relieved to hear such a report. "I'm very glad to hear it, Mrs. Bates, very glad indeed. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be moving along."

#####

Mr. Carson visited the nursery next. He was not surprised to see Lady Mary there, of course, but finding Lady Edith with her was unexpected. The two were not the best of friends, to put it mildly. As he walked by the open door, Lady Mary called out to him.

"Carson, is that you? Will you come here, please?"

He presented himself to the ladies, both very elegant, though in mourning. "How may I help, my lady?"

"Edith and I are having a bit of a disagreement and we hope you might help resolve it."

Mr. Carson knew to tread carefully here. "I do not know if it would be appropriate for me to take sides in a quarrel between sisters, but I am glad to attempt mediation if you wish it."

Lady Mary and Lady Edith both smiled broadly. "Oh, Carson, it isn't as serious as all that!" Lady Edith protested. "We merely can't agree on whether Mrs. Patmore's raspberry tart is better than her chocolate custard and would like her to make both at the same time so we may taste them side by side."

Mr. Carson would never have described asking Mrs. Patmore to make two desserts in one night as not serious, but he kept that observation to himself.

"But perhaps we should apply instead to Mrs. Hughes on this matter?" Lady Mary suggested.

Mr. Carson nodded absently. "Mrs. Hughes, yes..." He seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment and the two ladies exchanged a curious glance. "Yes, Mrs. Hughes prepares the menus," Mr. Carson said briskly, returning to the present. "However, I will be sure to mention your request to her, so you needn't trouble yourselves to speak to her about it."

"Thank you, Carson," said Lady Edith.

"You're very welcome. I'll be about my business now, but may I say, ladies, how glad I am to see you both... looking so well."

"He means he's amazed we're getting along, Edith," Lady Mary said drily, looking amused. "We're in the same room and aren't trying to claw one another's eyes out."

"I would never say - such a thing would be the height of impertinence!" Mr. Carson sputtered. He glanced at Lady Edith to see how she bore her sister's remark, but she seemed to find it humorous as well.

"It's unlikely it will last," Lady Edith added, "so we thought it best to take advantage of this unexpected moment of sisterly harmony."

"Yes, Carson," Lady Mary said lightly, "I know it's disconcerting, but soon enough we'll be back to our old tricks." She and Lady Edith both stifled their giggles at Mr. Carson's mystified expression.

"Well, I suppose I should get on with my duties," he said. "Good day to you, ladies." Mr. Carson bowed and left the nursery. As he walked the gallery, he couldn't deny that he felt a rising dismay at what he had just witnessed. Lady Mary and Lady Edith getting on well! They were not at one another's throats, but neither had they reached a dramatic and lasting rapprochement. He sighed. This would never do. Still, it was early.

#####

Mr. Carson's morning rounds produced nothing satisfactory when it came to resolving the problem brought to his attention by the letter, but he had no intention of giving up. He had high hopes when he saw Mr. Barrow and Miss O'Brien walking together out the back door after lunch. He followed them outside and saw Miss O'Brien hand Mr. Barrow a cigarette before lighting her own. They rounded a corner and Mr. Carson was able to listen to their conversation without being observed. He felt the shame of his undignified behavior, but he knew it was for a purpose. The honor of Downton must be upheld and certainly these two individuals were more likely than most to provide aid in this peculiar situation.

"Did you notice how distracted Mr. Carson looked just now?" Miss O'Brien asked her companion.

"No, and I don't care, neither. He can do as he pleases as far as I'm concerned. I'd rather discuss the weather than that boring old git, distracted or no." Mr. Barrow paused, presumably for a drag on his cigarette.

"Very well," Miss O'Brien answered. "Nice weather today, isn't it, Mr. Barrow?"

He chuckled. "Indeed, it is, Miss O'Brien, indeed it is. I thought it might rain today, but it's very fine out."

"We've had more than enough rainy days in the last month to suit my taste. It's good to see the sun at last."

"I agree. And thank you for the cigarette."

Mr. Carson tried to huff as silently as possible as he abandoned the field and went back inside. He could hardly believe he had just listened to Mr. Barrow and Miss O'Brien sharing a companionable conversation, and about the weather, of all things! They would be no help to him. But surely somewhere in the house and grounds he could find what he was looking for.

A bell rang in the servants hall, indicating that her ladyship had requested service in her private parlor.

"Mr. Carson, her ladyship's tea is just now ready, but there's no maid to take it up," Daisy said, approaching him.

"Not to worry, Daisy," Mr. Carson answered. "I'll take it up myself. I'm headed that way anyway."

#####

When Mr. Carson entered Lady Grantham's parlor, she was sitting on a sofa with her husband.

"Carson, is anything the matter downstairs? Couldn't one of the maids have brought the tea up?" she said.

Mr. Carson drew himself up proudly. "Nothing is amiss downstairs, my lady. I was simply coming this way and thought to wait on you personally."

"Thank you, Carson," Lord Grantham said as the butler set the tea tray down. The earl and countess sat down at the table together.

"I had a letter from Mother today," Lady Grantham said to her husband.

"Oh?"

Mr. Carson's ears pricked up at this. He wondered what Mrs. Levinson had to say. "She writes the most boring letters these days, Robert, but I can't say I wish it otherwise. Tedious letters mean there hasn't been any tragedy or hardship. I think we've had enough to last us a long while."

"Right you are, my dear."

Mr. Carson had finished setting out tea, so he left the room. He was really becoming exasperated. He needed a solution and was running out of ideas.

#####

The day would soon be over and Mr. Carson had been utterly frustrated at every turn. The afternoon had passed peacefully, the family and the servants had all eaten dinner, and the dowager and Mrs. Crawley were on their way back to their homes. Soon he would make his way downstairs to see that everything was as it should be before eventually going to bed.

Mr. Carson walked slowly but purposefully into the library, hands clasped behind his back. He came to stand before the fire and removed the letter from his pocket. He opened it once more and read it, dwelling for some time on one passage in particular, before carefully placing it on the fire.

"It shall be done," he said softly, staring into the flames. Mr. Carson waited until the letter had burned completely beyond recognition and then, with a smile in his eyes, made his way with rather a light step to the stairs leading down to the servants' hall.

To be continued...