A/N: Wow! I am incredibly flattered, humbled, and excited by all the amazing reviews for the first chapter of this story. I cannot begin to adequately express my thanks for each and every one of you, whether you're reviewing, following, a guest reviewer ... just everyone. I hope you will continue to enjoy the story as it unfolds.
C*E*C*E*C*E*
Charles Carson had quickly formulated a plan in his mind. He knew exactly what needed to happen, in what order, and the timing of it all. There were still little details which demanded his attention, but overall he was pleased with his quick progress. His goal was to catch Elsie completely by surprise. She wouldn't be expecting his return for weeks, assuming he was still in London, only enjoying a few days of rest. The last thing she would suspect would be his arrival at the house, with his heart in his hands, offering all he had to her. But before he could make the journey home, he first had to get Thomas Barrow to London.
In the seclusion of his office, Charles took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Elsie Hughes was the most inquisitive woman he'd ever known, and if he wasn't careful, she would have him telling her all his darkest secrets, deepest desires, and all of his plans to her by the end of the phone conversation. His only saving grace was that she was not in the same room with him. One look into her blue eyes and seeing her fierce resolve to obtain answers, and that would be his undoing. He cleared his throat and picked up the receiver on the phone, politely requesting to be connected to Downton Abbey.
He didn't have to wait long for someone to answer, and that someone was Elsie. "Mr. Carson, to what do we owe the pleasure of a phone call from the grand house in London?" she teased. It was certainly not like him to phone home, and she knew that he trusted her running of the household in his absence. "Has Mrs. Butte taken ill again? She didn't look too well when we left." There was no bitterness in her voice, only that of concern and hopes for the housekeeper's well-being.
"No, nothing of that nature, I can assure you. How are things at the house?"
"If by things, you mean is Thomas bullying the poor lads until they're in tears each day and collapsing in their beds at night from exhaustion, then we're very nearly there. I have managed to run interference for them as much as possible, but some days he's worse than a hungry bear."
"Have much experience with hungry bears in Yorkshire while I'm away, do you?" He couldn't help but tease her a little bit, giving her a bit of her own back. "My, my, perhaps His Lordship will have new game to hunt this season. I shall have to look for a recipe book for Mrs. Patmore if we're to make that a featured item on the Downton menus."
"I'd prefer we keep to the same menus, thank you very much. I'd hate to think of the increased food costs associated with cooking something so wild, not to mention the headache powders I'll need to keep in stock?"
He paused for a moment, not following her line of thinking. "Headache powders?"
"Of course! Can you imagine telling Beryl Patmore that she must quickly learn the proper way to prepare bear meat, what dishes it should be paired with, and all the other little intricacies that go along with those meal preparations? Those shouting matches are sure to give more than a few of us a headache, or have you forgotten the epic rows we had in the past over the store cupboard key?"
Charles laughed heartily. "No, I haven't forgotten. I'm surprised my ears have finally stopped ringing and the walls are still standing. A few more slammed doors from you and the whole house would have crumbled around our ears."
Elsie laughed, a sound which was like music to Charles. "Did you call simply to scold me about past transgressions or was there something you needed? I don't mind chatting with you, but I hardly think you have time during a busy day to phone to speak to me."
He was thankful they'd had a few moments of light banter before he had to speak of his real reason for calling. "As much as I enjoy talking with you, I did call for a specific purpose. You see, His Lordship has graciously granted me a few days to myself, a small holiday if you will, and it will be necessary for Thomas to return to London. While I am relieved of my official duties, he will need to act as the butler at the London household."
"My, my! Are you sure everyone has thought this through to the end? I don't begrudge you a few days off. Goodness knows the lengths you go to for the family to ensure their happiness is above and beyond what any good servant would do, but to leave Thomas in charge of the London house? Given his history, I'm astonished that he'd be given the chance considering so much was riding on this season and with all the house parties. I should think you couldn't be spared until everyone was safely at Downton."
"He won't be in charge of the house, exactly. Mrs. Butte will still be here and there's no question that she can keep Thomas on his toes. Besides, he will need the experience if he is to be a true underbutler. I'll not have him holding the title if he cannot step up and deliver when called upon. Besides, the Season is drawing to a close and His Lordship felt that this would be a good time for my reprieve and Barrow's trial."
"Very well. You two would know more about that, but I won't say I will miss him. I have a feeling the staff here will want to throw a going away party for him … after we're assured he's on the train," she said with a laugh. "I might even give them some extra time off for their celebrations. So, when is this all supposed to happen? He'll need to be told, which I'm assuming is the reason for your call, and we'll need to make sure he's packed and ready."
"He will need to catch the first train to London in the morning. Once he's here, I'll get him settled, and then I'll be off."
"And where will you be going, Mr. Carson? Some secluded cottage by the sea or somewhere in the countryside where you plan to woo and marry some innocent farm girl?"
Charles felt his cheeks warm a little at her suggestions. This was the very reason he was thankful he couldn't see her face and she couldn't see his. "Yes, something like that, Mrs. Hughes. I'll be sure to tell you all about it when I return to Downton."
"Is that a promise? You know how much I love a good story."
"I know how much you like to dig for a story, too, so I'm going to spare us both a lot of time and effort. It's a promise."
"Good. I look forward to sharing some quiet time and wine with you when you return. I hope you'll have a very pleasant holiday, and don't worry about Thomas. I'll personally see to it that he's on the train in the morning and under your wing as soon as possible."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes, and if Thomas gives you any trouble at all, have him phone London and I'll sort him out for you."
"Thank you for that, Mr. Carson, though I don't think that will be necessary. He might face a mutiny if the others find out he's being called away and not going. It's possible they'd pack his bags for him and toss him on the train themselves."
"I'm sure it won't come to that. You have things well in hand and Downton is all the better for it." He realized how close he was getting to revealing the true nature of his plans so he ended the call as quickly and politely as possible, promising to see her soon with details of his time away from his duties.
After ending the call to Downton, Carson decided it would be wise to seek out Mrs. Butte. He trusted her to ensure that Barrow was kept in line, and to even challenge him a bit to test his metal. Since she would be the senior member on staff once Carson departed, he felt it was his duty to the family to give her a little insight into Thomas's ambitions, his calculating ways, and his sometimes arrogant behavior. Charles chuckled softly at the thought of the two of them going head to head and finding that Thomas had underestimated the unfamiliar housekeeper. Still, to be forewarned was to be forearmed, especially in this case.
After being assured that all would be well in his absence, Carson retreated to his own rooms to pack. He surprised himself at how quickly he had his possessions tucked away safely in his small suitcase. With only his last minute items to be added in the morning, Carson sat on the end of his bed and took a few deep breaths. He was still having trouble believing his good fortune. Just twenty-four hours ago, he had been a man so very unsure of his future, his prospects of a happier life, and even his job security once he had confessed his feelings and intentions about his colleague to his employer. Now, as he contemplated the recent events, he found himself growing more and more nervous about the next twenty-four hours.
In all the years they had worked together, Charles and Elsie had shared so much with each other. They had never dared share their thoughts and feelings with someone else. They turned to each other for help, advice, and comfort ... more than they had any other member on staff. They had grown from mere colleagues, to trusted confidantes, to best friends. It had been a gradual progression but a very natural one. Charles had always respected Elsie Hughes. She had a strong work ethic and a brilliant mind. She could quote classic pieces of literature then surprise him in the next breath with some limerick she'd heard in her younger days or a sarcastic remark that completely caught him off guard. She greeted changes with enthusiasm, tugging him along behind her and reminding him that all of life was one change after another. There wasn't another soul at Downton Abbey that he trusted more than Mrs. Hughes. She knew his deepest secrets yet did not hold his past against him. In turn, he had been made privy to her past as well.
Thoughts of Joe Burns suddenly flooded Carson's mind. He thought back to the days when Mr. Burns had appeared in the village and escorted Elsie to the fair. Those had been some very stressful days, though looking back, Charles had a better understanding of why they were so tense. While he couldn't freely admit to loving Elsie, back then, his heart and mind already recognized the glowing embers of something deeper than friendship. The very idea that Elsie could have slipped through his fingers, that he could have lost his chance with her caused his body to shiver. Shaking his head to rid himself of those nightmarish thoughts, he pulled himself together and thanked his lucky stars that things had turned out well in the end. Every single hardship and success, from her first appearance at the house until now, had shaped them into the people they were today. They had faced the highs and lows of work and life together as a team. Now, he hoped to take her hand and step into the future.
With those thoughts in mind, Charles rose from his seat on the bed and made his way to his small desk. He had a letter to write, the most important letter of his life. It had to be perfect. There was a fine balance between expressing his feelings honestly and openly and gushing like some young footman who was smitten with a pretty maid. He desperately hoped he could strike the balance between the two. Elsie Hughes deserved it.
"Mr. Carson, all women need someone to show a bit of interest every now and then, preferably in a manner that is not entirely proper."
He shook his head and smiled, wondering if he would ever be able to rid himself of Mrs. Patmore's words of advice. Perhaps, once he and Elsie started courting, he'd hear the incessant reminder less and less as he was able to express his love and devotion more freely to the object of his desire. Until then, he surmised, he'd simply have to use it as a steady reminder that what might seem quite acceptable to him might have less appeal or attraction to Elsie. He prided himself on knowing her better than anyone else, but matters of the heart were different from the way she preferred her tea, her favorite biscuits, or any of the other countless things he remembered about her. With all those thoughts swimming around in his mind, he set about to write her a note. Nothing extravagant or too sentimental, but something from his heart to hers, something he hoped would express his thoughts and feelings better than he could do face to face.
The following day, Carson stepped off the train with his small bag in his hand. He had never been more pleased to see the station and a few familiar faces as he started his walk through the village back towards Downton Abbey. With each step he took, he was growing closer and closer to home, to her, to their future together. He tried to keep the pessimist in him at bay, not even entertaining the thoughts that he might have the wrong idea about Mrs. Hughes's feelings for him. He tramped those ideas down quickly in order to keep his resolve and his nerves in check.
As he walked to the house from the train station, Charles patted his coat pocket, feeling the small envelope tucked safely inside. He'd read the letter so many times, last night and even on the ride to Downton, he had the words memorized. He hoped to slip, unnoticed, into her sitting room and leave the letter on her desk. He would know soon enough how she felt, for better or worse. There was no way he could stand idly by and watch as she read the penned words on the page, the words which had flowed so freely from his heart only the night before.
Now, he could see the grand house in the near distance and his heartbeat quickened, as did his pace. One check of his pocket watch told him that Elsie would most likely be inspecting the rooms upstairs. Years of working together allowed him the privilege of being familiar with her routines. He smiled as he imagined her entering her sitting room, learning someone had been in there without her permission, and then finding his letter. As he neared the house, he was struck by a beautiful image. A slight deviation from the path, around the house, and into the gardens was in order.
With Barrow's departure earlier that morning, Elsie felt a bit liberated. While he had been under foot, she had to stay on her toes, ready for any and every eventuality. Thomas was always scheming or trying to push the rules, especially when he thought Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes weren't looking. Once he left, Elsie breathed a sigh of relief, as did most of the remaining hall boys and footmen. Things would be much easier without him questioning her every move or watching over her shoulder. She most certainly wouldn't miss him barking orders at the poor lads who were already pushed to their limits.
She found herself humming as she went about the remainder of her day. The maids were doing an admirable job of following orders, doing things as they knew she liked, and doing them well. She felt a bit of pride in her girls. They were doing their best, and she would see that they were rewarded with some additional time off before the family returned. The sooner their tasks were completed, the more free time they might be allowed.
As she neared her sitting room door, Elsie was surprised to find it ajar. She was certain she had closed it firmly behind her when she'd left to make her daily rounds of the house. She peeked into the kitchen and saw the girls working away at dinner preparations. A quick glance up and down the narrow corridor showed nothing out of the ordinary. Her curiosity was well and truly roused.
She eased open the door and stepped inside, closing it firmly behind her. A quick survey of the room offered no hints as to why her door would have been mysteriously opened. Brushing aside her suspicions, she chuckled at her own thoughts. She'd been around Thomas too long, looking for things that weren't really there.
Elsie stretched, hearing several clicking noises in her back and feeling an immediate release of tension. She sighed happily and turned her attention to the tasks at hand. She thought if she could get her work completed, she might have time to check in on the rest of the staff. If everyone had worked hard and was nearly finished with their chores, she might give them the rest of the day off to do as they wished. After all, a little treat for hard work could go a long way towards fostering encouraging behavior.
As she neared her desk, Elsie's eyes were immediately drawn to a delicate pink flower and an unfamiliar envelope waiting for her. She recognized the fragrant rose as a variety they grew in the gardens here at Downton. Its fragile petals were just beginning to loosen up, unfolding to give way to the true beauty of the rose once it was in full bloom. She reached out and picked up the flower, bringing it to her nose and inhaling the sweet scent. She thought her senses must be playing tricks on her, for in that brief moment, she would almost swear she caught a hint of Mr. Carson's cologne. But, that couldn't be. He was still in London, no doubt very frustrated with Thomas by now. Tracing the petals of the rose, she debated on whether to seek out a vase for the beautiful flower, question the maids about the visitor to her sitting room, or to simply inspect the envelope placed in the center of her desk.
Her curiosity getting the better of her, she opted to seek answers in the note. She was positive it had not been there when she'd made her morning rounds and she was certain the fragrant flower was a new addition, too. She turned over the cream colored envelope and immediately recognized the handwriting. She had received letters from him during previous Seasons, had seen countless invoices with his neat penmanship, and had been the recipient of little notes about mundane household things. He had a distinct way of writing her name, Mrs. Hughes. Holding this note in her hands, finding the rose, thinking she caught a whiff of his cologne … something wasn't right. There was no postage mark, no stamp, and no other bits of mail with this one piece. Placing the beautiful pink rose aside and taking her letter opener in hand, she carefully slit the seal and removed the delicate paper held inside. Her heart was pounding, though from excitement or curiosity she couldn't say.
By the time she had read the letter for a second time, her heart was hammering loudly in her ears. Could this really be happening? She'd just spoken with him the day before. He was supposed to be in London, training Thomas, going on holiday ...
She looked down at the note again in her hands, reading it through just once more.
My dearest Mrs. Hughes,
A wise woman once told me that old wounds needed to be stitched up and healed, for only by letting go of the past could I embrace the future. Then, on a sunny day at the beach, that same wonderful woman took my hand in hers and steadied me as I took my first tentative steps towards that bright new beginning which awaited. I will admit, freely, that since that day I have not been able to rid myself of the warm memory, nor do I wish to ever forget a single moment of that day.
I find myself longing to be in your presence, to be able to look into your clear blue eyes, to hear your sweet voice, to bask in the warmth of your laughter. I have searched my heart and come to the realization that it is no longer mine to keep. This once shattered heart has been mended, been made whole again by time, patience, and gentle care. And it is only fitting that it be returned to its rightful owner, if she will only accept the offering.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning penned these words, and they seemed to sum up my feelings for you, more eloquently than I could ever say.
"You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long."
There is a small bench beneath the large oak tree on the front lawn. It would be a perfect place to have a quiet conversation, a perfect place to speak of us. I am waiting, my dear Mrs. Hughes ... waiting with my heart in my hands. I shall wait for you on the bench until the sun sets on this day, though my hope is that we might close the day together, hand in hand, heart to heart.
Ever yours,
Charles
Without a single thought for anything but Charles Carson, Elsie quickly picked up the rose, clutched the letter tightly to her chest, and darted for the door. She moved swiftly up the stairs and out into the bright summer sun, her mind focused on one thing and one thing only. As rapidly as her feet and legs could mange, she crossed the lawn, letting nothing deter her from her goal of reaching that particular bench as soon as possible. She stopped dead in her tracks once the tree was in plain view. There, sitting beneath the oak was her tall, handsome butler who seemed to be staring off into the distance, as if waiting patiently for someone, for her. With a steadying breath, she approached him, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder.
"I received the most wonderful surprise today, Mr. Carson," she said, looking down into his upturned face, her smile partially hidden by the rose she held near her lips.
He was on his feet in an instant, smiling from ear to ear. "I did promise to return to Downton to tell you all about my plans to visit the countryside and to woo a farm girl. I suppose I failed to mention that she's no longer that farm girl from Argyll, but a lovely housekeeper who resides on this very estate."
She blushed at his words and held up his note. "This is the most beautiful letter I've ever received. Did you mean it? Truly?" Tears were threatening to cloud her eyes, threatening to blur everything from her vision except him.
"Every word of it and more, Elsie." He motioned for her to take a seat on the bench beside him. "I've thought of little else but you since you left London, and I've come to realize that my life is not complete without you. I have loved the idea of you, the very thought of a true best friend, a companion, a woman who isn't afraid to love and be loved ... you're what I've wanted my whole life. I was only too blinded by the past to see what was right in front of me. And now, now I wish to step into the sunlight with you, to enjoy our lives, to love and be loved ... if you'll have me."
The smile that spread across her face was brighter than any he had ever seen. "And what of our jobs, or lives here? Are we to give all that up? What will the family think of their butler courting their housekeeper? Not that I would mind, of course."
"Ever the practical one, I see." He reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Why do you think His Lordship has given me a few days away from my duties? I spoke with him yesterday, told him how I felt, how I hoped you might feel, and what my intentions are in regards to you. We have his blessing to do as we wish." He turned in his seat so he was fully facing her, staring intently into her eyes, studying her face. "So, my dear Mrs. Hughes, it comes down to this. Would you, Elsie Hughes, allow this very humble man, Charles Carson, to court you? Will you give me the chance to prove that I'm worthy of your love?"
She took her hand from his and reached up to cup his cheek. "I would be honored to be courted by you, Charles Carson, and I cannot thank you enough for trusting me with your heart. I promise you, here and now, that I will keep it safe." She leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek then rested her head on his shoulder as they slipped into a comfortable silence, watching the sun dip lower and lower onto the horizon.
That night, Elsie read her letter once more before bedtime, thinking happily of the man just a few steps away in another room, who was now opening up his life and his heart to her. She smiled as she thought of what tomorrow might hold. Elsie Hughes was now being officially courted by Charles Carson, and this man never did anything by halves. She fell asleep that night thinking of how wonderful her life was and dreaming of the man who made it so.
A/N 2: And now, let the courting begin! If you've enjoyed this chapter and feel so inclined, I'd love to hear what you think. And if you have ideas for an outing for our couple, don't be afraid to share. I've written three already, but I'm always open to new ideas.
