Author's Note: Edited to correct the opening dialogue. Sorry about that. Guess I don't have the whole thing memorized at that.
Disclaimer: I'm not even a custodian, my dears, let alone an owner. These characters and their settings are the work of others. I hope I do not offend with my homage.
"What I don't understand in all this is you. You seem positively glad to see Mary disinherited."
"You speak as if we had a choice," his lordship told his mother.
She ignored him. "Thank you, Branson," she said instead.
Branson heard the noise of Mr. Carson shutting the car door. He put the car in gear, and they headed out. The chauffeur suspected old Lady Grantham would be in no mood to talk on the way home. Maybe it was just as well. He frowned thoughtfully. Had he been taking advant—
"Did you go to the fair, Branson?"
Well, he was wrong. "Yes, milady. I took her ladyship and two of the young ladies this afternoon."
"Did they let you off the leash at all so you could enjoy yourself?"
Branson smiled at the road in front of him. Off the leash, indeed! "Yes, milady, I had some time to wander around."
"How was it?"
"Still quiet when we were there; it was pretty early."
"Do you think you'll go back after you drop me off?"
Branson wanted badly to ask the old lady if she'd like to go, but didn't dare. "I don't think so, milady."
There was a short silence from the passenger seat. Then, "What happened?"
"Nothing, milady." Really. It was nothing. He hoped. He had liked eating with them in the servants' hall. It would be lonely to always have to—
"Are you a fan of the paradox?" The aged voice cut into his thoughts sarcastically. "How could something be nothing?"
"This was, milady," he told her emphatically.
"Branson, do you know what happens to servants who lie to their employers?"
Now he was silent for a moment. Then, "No, milady."
"Would you like to find out?"
Oh, God, on his second day? "Really, milady—"
"Branson, I'll be frank. My own problems are not amusing me right now; I'm hoping yours will. So tell me what's wrong."
Branson took a breath. "If you must know, someone accused me of taking advantage of the housekeeper's absence."
That surprised her.
"But I think she only said that because she was angry that she hadn't been able to go to the fair."
"If you think that's the only reason, why are you upset?"
"I'm not."
"Branson." Just that, just his name, but clearly indicating she didn't believe him, and didn't want to warn him again.
He sighed. "I'm afraid she might be right."
"How were you taking advantage?"
"By eating in the servants' hall."
"Aren't meals part of your wages?"
"Yes, but she said Mr. Taylor always ate in the chauffeur's cottage."
"Mr. Taylor was an aspiring cook." Old Lady Grantham thought a moment. "Are you being paid a board wage or drawing stores?"
"Drawing stores."
"Who do you draw the stores from?"
"Mrs. Hughes."
"Ah, the housekeeper. Good. So just ask her."
"What?"
"Ask her if you took advantage."
Branson laughed. Simple. "I will. Thank you, milady."
"If only I could solve my own problems so easily."
