Good afternoon, readers! I just wanted to thank you all for your reviews and your support, it's really appreciated. Hope you'll like this chapter as well :)
Chapter Two: Unspoken
The clatter of spoons and forks and the quiet chatter resounded in the servant's hall that morning as Daisy entered quietly with a big bowl of porridge and started serving it with a wooden ladle.
The whole room was humming with the excitement that precedes a departure; the family was going to London for a few weeks and, as per usual, some of the staff was going with them.
The Crawleys had decided it inappropriate to stay in London for the whole season due to the recent death of Matthew.
Lady Mary was strong, but his death had left her distraught. The family thus thought it appropriate to spend a little time in London to distract her.
Elsie brought a spoonful of porridge to her mouth with reluctance. Her stomach was sour and her insides felt intricately woven into knots; she could barely eat.
In front of her, O'Brien was mumbling under her breath, clearly cross about leaving. The season was tiring for every servant, but even more so for a ladies' maid. O'Brien grumbled every year. Anna was talking cheerfully to Mr Bates; they were both excited to leave. It was their first season since the wedding, and even though it would give them little opportunity to spend time together, after his year in prison they didn't seem to mind so much the…
"How are you this morning, Mrs. Hughes?"
…separation.
His deep voice startled her. "I'm fine, why do you ask?" She responded.
"You are unnaturally silent today. And not very interested in your porridge either," he pointed out, though a bit of amusement remained in his voice.
She had to bite back a smile; was the man playing her mother now?
"These are busy days, Mr Carson, I'm just tired."
Liar.
He gave her a knowing look. "When the family leaves perhaps you can relax a bit."
She nodded, "I think I will, the maids have worked well, after all." She played with the spoon in the porridge bowl; she didn't usually play with her food, her mother had always scolded her. "It's not lady-like" her voice boomed in Elsie's head. But today… today she didn't care.
He noticed her strange behaviour. Not eating was so unlike her, she was a woman of strong appetite and she never wasted or played with food. Something was clearly troubling her and he wanted to discover what it was before he made his departure - he hadn't much time.
Elsie put her spoon down with exasperation. She couldn't eat if she wanted to, there was no reason to pretend.
"Are you sure you are feeling well?" he inquired carefully.
She sighed, keeping herself from rolling her eyes. "I am, Mr Carson, I've already told you. There's nothing for you to worry about."
Almost nothing.
"It's just… I've never seen you not eating at breakfast," he protested.
"I'm not hungry today, that's all," she said her voice now tinged with annoyance.
Liar.
He didn't know how to reply, he couldn't force her to eat something, he wasn't her mother, nor her father, nor her… He shook his head imperceptibly; he mustn't think about that, he had no right, no right at all.
…husband.
She clasped her hands in her lap, not looking at him and chewing the inside of her mouth.
"It's just a few weeks, you stupid cow, he won't be gone for the whole season" she thought to herself. She couldn't stop thinking how much she would miss him, she was used to see him every single day… they had grown so much closer this past year…
They had always been friends. But for years their relationship consisted of discussing their work day and they didn't know much of each other. She hadn't known he had been on stage until a few weeks before and he had known very little about her family and her life before Downton. But lately, after her cancer scare, Lady Sybil's death, and then Mr Crawley's… she suddenly found herself seeking (needing) his company. She shuddered at the mere thought of the past year's events. However, she didn't exactly regret everything that had happened… it had brought them closer. He'd lowered his defenses for her, that stern façade behind which he constantly hid. It had given her more courage.
They still faced the same old problems of course. He didn't accept changes freely; he was still struggling to accept the fact that the world wasn't the same after the war, that they weren't the same anymore. Despite that, they'd spent more and more lovely evenings talking to each other after their long and tiring work day had ended. They discussed the running of the household, as they were usually accustomed, but also about their views on that topic or another, about their lives before Downton and their families (even if he always said the Crawleys were the only family he had).
She felt nearer to him than ever before. It was as if that invisible wall she had built to protect herself and avoid jeopardizing her job was crumbling down. She could feel the cracks in every single brick; it was as if he was taking that wall down, brick by brick.
And now she found that she couldn't bear losing him even for a few months. After all they had gone through, she feared that the barrier she hated so much would rebuild itself during his absence because of the distance. And she realized… she wanted him to keep breaking it down. He usually wrote to her but she didn't think he would this time. It was just a few months this time after all (and why would he? She meant nothing to him).
She got up from her seat slowly, and walked back to her parlour, Carson staring at her strangely as she exited.
She stood in the hall, watching the footmen carrying heavy suitcases and keeping a close eye on the maids to assure herself everything was running smoothly in spite of the departure of the family.
After the suitcases were securely packed in the cars, he came upstairs with his coat on and his bowler hat in hand, to join the other servants in their car.
"Well then, Mrs. Hughes, I wish you a pleasant break," he smiled warmly.
He wished he was able to understand the reason of her worry, why she was biting her bottom lip as she usually did when something was bothering her - not that he didn't appreciate her concerned look and the way her teeth tortured her rosy lips, but he would have liked to see her more serene… it irked him that he hadn't discovered the source of her worry, and now he was leaving and it was too late.
"What is troubling you?" He thought to himself.
"I don't know how much of a break it will be," she replied, "There's so much to do while the family is away and we have even less time than usual."
"I'm sure you'll manage perfectly well," he stated.
She nodded, smiling slightly, a question on the tip of her tongue.
"Will you write?" But she wouldn't, couldn't say those words.
They remained in silence for a few seconds, but to them it seemed an eternity. They stood there, frozen, looking at each other in the eyes (his dark brown eyes, so beautiful she could lose herself in their depth… her shining blue eyes that turned to grey like the sea water during a tempest…) while a single thought was running in their heads.
What is troubling you? Will you write?
Then he tore his eyes away from hers and cleared his throat, waking her from her reverie.
"I think I should go then."
Will you write?
"Of course. Have a good journey."
What is troubling you?
"Thank you, Mrs Hughes. Goodbye."
Will you write?
He tipped his hat before entering the car and closing the door after him.
Elsie waved her hand at him, Bates, and Anna as the car disappeared down the driveway.
She should have asked him… she didn't think she could bear not hearing from him for that long. She knew she would miss him terribly and she despised herself for not having spoken her thoughts out loud. But then, weren't they accustomed to live exactly like this? To restrain themselves from speaking their minds not only with the family but also between each other?
She sighed, feeling the weight of those unspoken words on her heart.
Will you write to me, Mr Carson? Will you write to me… Charles?
Reviews make my day. Thank you for reading.