A/N Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews so far! They are pure love! Now, some have wondered what Charles had written on that little piece of paper. (I do not reveal it in this chapter, but there are only three words that matter...)

Disclaimer: not at all mine. I only borrowed them for this little fanfic. They belong to Julian Fellowes and ITV.

Early June 1914

For a month now, a little black velvet box lay hidden in the topmost drawer of his desk. He made sure to keep the drawer locked at all times, day and night. Not that he mistrusted her or thought of her as a nosy person, he just wanted to make sure that his secret would not accidentally be discovered. It had taken him too long to finally make up his mind and come to a decision on how to tell her the truth.

A piece of jewellery as a birthday present was surely something she would never expect. He could already hear her scolding voice inside his head, reprimanding him on his choice of gift: too expensive, improper, unacceptable. Though the longer he had thought of it the more he was convinced that it was the best way to let her know. How improper and bold it might be. He did not want to think about the possible consequences anymore, because they had occupied his thoughts and made him unnecessarily deny his feelings for too long already.

Feelings. Emotions. He was not very good at expressing or admitting them, never had been. When he had left his home for a life on the stage he had tried to tell himself that he was totally happy with his decision. That this was he wanted to do, give up a quiet and unsatisfying life with his mother in that large house where they were just two out of 50 people; people that did not really matter. But he wanted to matter, make a change, be visible.
For years this lie worked, kept him doing what he did. Until that incident with Grigg occured. He remembered the one moment when all the pent-up feelings inside him found their release, costing Grigg two teeth and him the life he had chosen as an alternative to being in service. Since that day he had promised himself to keep whatever was bothering him hidden underneath a façade that conveyed professionalism and obedience and only occasionally revealed his true self and feelings.

It was her arrival at Downton Abbey that made him reconsider the role he had defined for himself. That young Scottish housemaid with the auburn hair and the piercing blue eyes who was so different from all the other servants he had came across in his life until then and she changed his life.

ooooo

"Are you satisfied with the engraving, Sir?" the goldsmith in the shop in Ripon handed him the locket so that he could have a better look at it. Charles let his fingertips ghost over the entwined letters. It was perfect.

"Yes, you did an excellent work. Would you be so kind and wrap it for me?" He was about to give the piece of jewellery back when an idea came to his mind. Charles withdrew his hand before the goldsmith could take the locket back. "I am sorry, but there is something I need to do before you wrap it. Any chance to borrow a pen and a piece of paper from you?"

He wrote down only three words in his fine and accurate handwriting. They stared at him the moment they had appeared on the little piece of paper. This was it. His confession. Something that would change his life forever, hopefully. He was surprised that his hands were shaking when he folded the paper carefully to fit it into the locket. He had never known nervousness like this, was even unfamiliar with stage fright but obviously his heart thought differently.

Unable to withhold the happy smile on his face he handed over the locket once again to be wrapped properly.

"From your smile I gather that this will be a very special gift for someone."

Indeed it was.

He recalled the scene once again before taking out the box. Tomorrow he was about to leave for the season in London, leaving Downton Abbey behind for three full months. Like every year since her arrival his utmost wish was to stay with her in Yorkshire rather than accompany the family to the hectic, noisy and dirty capital of Britain. Charles could only imagine what it would be like to have the stately house for their own, without the family present and relieved from all obligations like large dinner parties or taking care of guests. With a small sigh he let her present glide into the pocket of his day jacket, got up from his chair and began his search for Anna.

ooooo

"Mrs. Hughes," Charles had not been attentive enough when he left his pantry, his thoughts somewhere else, focused on the plan he had in mind. Therefore he almost ran into her on the corridor. The only thing preventing him from tripping was holding onto her shoulder. A brief contact like this was enough to quicken his pulse. Quickly he removed his hand and straightened his back, smiling at her innocently. "Please forgive my inattentiveness. I was in a hurry."

She smiled back at him, obviously pleased instead of annoyed by the brief touch she had just experienced. "Nothing to worry about Mr. Carson. Is something the matter? A problem with the preparations for tomorrow?"

"No not at all. Everything is fine and we are perfectly on schedule. I was just looking for…", he hesitated. Would it give him away if he admitted why he had been in such a hurry?

"For whom if I may ask. Maybe I can help?" she inquired curiously, still keeping eye contact with him throughout their conversation. All of a sudden another problem was added to the quickened pulse: the nervousness he had experienced a while ago was back.

He opened his mouth to answer her question when Anna descended the stairs. "Anna." Charles raised his voice to get her attention, causing Elsie to turn around and to his relief focus on the head housemaid instead of him. "Excuse me Mrs. Hughes. I was looking for Anna."

ooooo

"Mr. Carson I feel honoured." Anna let one of her warm smiles play on her lips when he had handed her the present. "I will keep it a secret, I promise. Is there anything you'd like me to say to her?"

"No thank you Anna. She will know that the gift is from me." He felt a bit like a child on Christmas Day, full of joyful anticipation though he tried to hide his emotions as good and much as possible. He was, after all, the most respected member of staff, not one of the hall boys. His feelings were his private matter and not to be shared openly with anyone of the other servants. Except for one.

As soon as Anna had safely and discreetly put his present into the pocket of her apron he made his way upstairs to supervise the final travel preparations.

ooooo

Their good byes were the usual ones. The words just empty phrases, good wishes for the next three months, promised letters. In front of all the other people, Charles could not talk openly to her like he so often did when they met at the end of a long day in either his or her room downstairs. Whereas openly did not include at all the feelings he held for her. Those were an entirely different matter, one he would address on her birthday.

Their gestures and the look upon her face on the other hand revealed that instead of the words she actually spoke, she would have loved to express something completely different, more intimate. Maybe tell him that she would miss him? As much as he would miss her?

"I will see you in three month then, Mr. Carson." Her hand lingered above his for a brief moment as if unsure whether she should take it or not. He looked down at it, feeling its presence, then took the opportunity and cautiously touched her elbow instead, giving it a light squeeze.

"You will have time for yourself while I am away. Enjoy the quietness, Mrs. Hughes." One last smile, then he withdrew his hand, turned around and took his seat in the motorcar.

ooooo

The first three weeks passed by so fast that Charles almost forgot her birthday. Lady Sybil had been successfully introduced to London society, already lionized by at least a dozen suitors. Guests were staying at Grantham House almost on a daily basis. He had staff to manage he merely saw once a year, most of the younger housemaids and hall boys were only hired for the season. Managing Grantham House was in fact much more stressful than being at Downton Abbey, though its London equivalent was in fact nothing more than a stately town house. The routine was missing. She was missing.

He looked at his pocket watch. Dinner was over by now at Downton, everyone would soon be on their way upstairs to their own rooms, longing for a deserved rest and a good night's rest. She had certainly gotten his present by now, opened it, been surprised at his choice of gift, and undoubtedly decided to give it back to him the moment he returned. He could see her face in front of his mind's eye, one of her eyebrow skeptically raised, ready to tell him that he had spent too much of his hard earned money on this. Yet he also firmly believed that this time her reaction would be completely different.

A C and an E were engraved on the golden locket. The letters entwined, almost looking like a single one. He had thought long about it, had played with the thought of having just an E engraved, or E and H, or nothing at all. He could not remember what had made him finally change his mind. It was the final step, the only step left he could take. Yet it was a difficult and uncertain one. What if she did not share his feelings for her? What if he made a complete fool of himself? He risked their friendship with his confession, the only one he ever cared for, the one he needed like the air to breathe. Still he could not step back now. And so he made his decision.

ooooo

A week after her birthday he received a letter from Downton. It came with the evening post and bore her curved handwriting as well as a faint smell of lily of the valley. A perfume he had once given her for a long gone birthday and a cause for a heated argument between them. Charles kept the letter in the pocket of his tailcoat throughout the evening, too nervous to have a look at it between dinner and the preparations for the next day. Although it was just a simple piece of paper, he could feel the letter in his pocket at all times. Whispering to him in her voice to open it and read it. Eventually he had send the remaining servants to bed, made his final round and switched of all the electric lights before he reached into the pocket to retrieve the letter.

to be continued.

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