The weather continued to be insufferable. Mr Molesley tugged at his shift collar hoping the end of class bell would ring soon, which was very unlike him. He loved teaching. It was thoroughly unexpected that he now sat at the front of the class in a brown suit, students before him anxiously scribbling away.
But the last week had been hot and horrible.
Admittedly a surprise test on a Wednesday afternoon was not his best idea.
The humidity in the class room had caused the windows to cloud over despite him opening every one in the place.
He mopped his brown with his handkerchief nervously and checked the time again. At least he wasn't at the Abbey…standing through another uncomfortable dinner in his full livery. He shuddered at the thought.
Miss Baxter would be in her full black Ladies Maid uniform.
The thought of her flustered face last week made him smile slightly.
His mind wandered back to their time together that afternoon. How she'd rested her head on his sofa in the drowsy evening warmth, how her blouse sat lower on her chest than he was used to, how the material had clung to her skin, how her hair had fallen around her face when she laughed…how her fingers had brushed his.
How her soft lips had felt against his cheek.
How they'd feel against his.
His unchecked thoughts drifted further, more than he'd even dare to let them got before.
How would it would feel to have his arms wrapped around her, lips on her neck, her body pushed against his against the wall in his kitchen…
The bell rang loudly.
"Papers! Ermm, Tests! That is…test papers to the front please class" He cursed his stammering in front of the children. None of them seemed to mind too much though. He was rewarded with a pile of sweaty test papers on his desk as they all filed out of the classroom, shouting their goodbyes as they went. The children ran off merrily into the sun drenched evening, careless and free.
He wiped his brow again and sighed.
Daydreaming was not a good habit.
Especially when he felt so embarrassed about his own thoughts. What would Miss Baxter say if she knew? God! She'd be so offended. Such crude thoughts, so…so indecent.
He see her tomorrow.
He grinned.
Her sewing machine had broken.
She couldn't believe it.
Of all the ridiculous and stupid things that could happen. It clunked pathetically at her and the needle snapped again. She closed her eyes in frustration. That was the 4th needle in the last half hour.
Maybe it was overheated?
She patted the machine in the way one might comfort a crying child.
Miss Baxter sighed and rubbed her eyelids.
Best call it a day before she hurled the stupid thing across the servants hall. And that really wouldn't do.
She looked sadly at the garment in her hands.
The shirt was still sleeveless and collarless. It just could not be given as a present in that state; so untidy and unfinished. The fabric was a nice grey and blue check cotton and she'd planned to pair it with the buttons he'd admired. It would have been a nice shirt; soft to touch, nice to look at.
After her unexpected encounter with Mr Molesley last week she'd felt terrible that she hadn't visited him sooner. And had not even had a housewarming gift for him!
So she'd made a shirt.
Or half of one at least.
The size she'd guess at, having looked at his old footman's livery in one of the cupboards. She'd made it a little looser and the sleeves a little longer than that old stiff shirt. Especially when he'd looked so at ease in his own clothes. Thinking of him in his gardening outfit made her stomach flutter. He'd looked so comfortable. So…dashing? No, that wasn't the right word. She chucked and sighed at the thought. Mr Molesley was certainly not dashing.
The sewing machine clacked again and Miss Baxter gave up.
Maybe she'd have time tomorrow to visit the shop before she saw him? Would the sewing store even be open still? And then it would take her a few hours at least to set up a new machine and finish the present. …and she'd couldn't afford the new machine now!
Plus all of that fuss would eat into the precious time she had hoped to spend with him.
She wrinkled her nose in frustration.
Thursday was cooler that the previous days had been.
A nice breeze ruffled Miss Baxter's' skirts as she walked away from Downton. She had given way to much thought to her outfit this morning. She felt overdressed. It wasn't so much that she was wearing anything fancy, just that it had taken her a long time to settle on anything.
In fact, in the end, she had chosen the pale blue outfit she'd worn to the seaside a few years ago.
It felt a little out of fashion now.
The cut was too square and the fabric too heavy. It was also too big for her still. Not that she supposed he'd notice that.
Looking around she admired the lush green trees and fields that spring had brought. Daffodils lined the edge of the pathway. She liked them. They were big and colourful and unapologetic.
"Good Morning!" Mr Molesley's voice rang out from the gate a few meters ahead of her.
Her tummy tightened. He'd been waiting for her.
"Good Morning Mr Molesley" She waved and beamed at him from underneath her hat. She'd chosen a bigger one this week, white with a large brim to shield her eyes from the sun. She'd also hoped this hat might keep her hair in check.
He looked as relaxed as the other week, though this time significantly less muddy.
At the field entrance they met almost awkwardly.
A handshake would be odd but a hug would have been much too forward.
Mr Molesley compromised by taking her hand and clumsily kissing it. And then blushed bright red from his ears to the top of his head.
For a moment Miss Baxter was breathless.
"How…how was your week?" She managed to stutter out, her hand tingling and still held lightly in his. His fingers was warm but not unpleasant. His thumb brushed her knuckles.
"Hot!" He barked a laugh awkwardly and dropped her hand, offering instead his arm.
They walked together though the field and with each step Miss Baxter felt the cares of the week melt away as she listened to Mr Molesley recount the two terrible school assemblies he's lead and the funny drawing he'd found of himself, clearly done by a bored student.
"Don't be silly, they all adore you" She cajoled, tipping her head back to see him shake his modestly.
"I kept it anyway" He grinned "Put it up in my kitchen…my house is lacking a bit in decoration at the moment!"
"I look forward to seeing it" And truly, she was.
It was pinned to the wall in his kitchen as promised. Miss Baxter couldn't help but chuckle lightly; it was an incredibly unflattering drawing. Next to her Mr Molesley cross his arms and nodded in pride, ever the art critic.
"I think she has a bright future"
"I'm sure she does" She stole a glance at him and met his eyes, they were full of mirth.
Her quiet chuckle broke into a full laugh.
He tried to look affronted but failed, his pursed lips pulling to the sides as he tried to control his features.
"It's quite lovely" She couldn't stop laughing. He was so pleased with this unappealing image. His mouth opened as if to say something but he seemed to think better of it and succumbed to his own hilarity, throwing his head back in a roar of laughed that joined hers.
After a second they calmed down. She couldn't risk looking at the drawing again for fear of another relapse. She still felt overdressed so she took her hat off and placed it on the table, swiftly checking her hair in the small mirror by the stairs to avoid last weeks disaster. Miss Baxter fanned herself with her hand, warm from the moment
He handed her a cup of tea. Apparently he'd been prepared.
"Thank you Mr Molesley" Her voice shook slightly with her effort to quell her laughter and she took the cup and saucer off him. It was nice china. Cream with little pink dots around the rim. On closer inspection they turned out to be tiny roses. She took a sip and met his eyes. She was very glad she'd come.
"Would you like to see the garden?" He gestured to the back door awkwardly.
"Of course!" She gave him a small smile and followed him out of the backdoor leaving the cup on the kitchen side.
Mr Molelsey's garden was on the left hand side of the house, mostly in the shade of the trees. Clearly he'd been busy. The lawn was neat and well-appointed. The flower beds were full of tulips, daffodils, snowdrops and bluebells and from the tree by the wall hung pink cherry blossom.
It really was quite special.
"My dad has been helping me spruce it up" Of course he'd take none of the credit "It was just part of the field when I moved in"
Miss Baxter looked around in pleasure.
"What a lovely place to call home" She bent down to admire the flowers.
"I hoped you'd like them"
"Of course I would" She stood up again, hand shielding her eyes from the spots of sun that broke through the trees. She should have left her hat on.
She turned to face him and found him much closer than expected.
Almost chest to chest.
Apparently it was unexpected for him too.
For a split second she considered taking a step back, but then she'd stand on the snowdrops.
They'd stood this close before, of course. If ever there was a party or wedding reception he was always at her side to be dance partner. But this felt very different. They were alone. In his garden. Surrounded by flowers.
His hand touched hers gingerly.
She let out half a gasp before her fingers found his and took his hand properly.
The heavy embroidered cuffs on her dress looked odd next to his plain shirt, especially since his sleeves were partly rolled up, exposing his arms. They weren't pale like hers, his skin surprisingly tanned.
He lifted her hand.
Her gaze followed it upwards, past his chest, until he pressed his lips against the back of her hand again.
A very bold move.
She gasped properly this time.
His eyes weren't full of mirth anymore. More concern. This was a the boldest thing he'd ever done.
Turning her hand over he pressed a second kiss to her palm. Lingering this time, letting his lips properly touch her skin. Her breath hitched.
Her eyes never left his. She was sure they mirrored hers. Wide and breathless.
Her other hand reached forward to steady herself and met with his waist, her fingers unexpectedly gripping hold of the soft material she found there. Pulling them closer together. He kissed her palm again, seemingly unsure of how to move forward.
Her hand slipped from his grasp and moved to his cheek, brushing the stubble she found there. He moved into her touch, his other hand hovered on her back, not confident enough to pull her tighter. Not wanting to push his luck. Not wanting to offend.
She guided him closer to her and lifted her face. He eyes were closed now, breathing slow. But she imagined she could hear his heartbeat, loud and fast.
Her lips pressed again his cheek.
This time she did not pull away immediately. She too lingered, enjoying the closeness.
She felt his face turn back towards her slightly.
Miss Baxter kissed him again, this time on the corner of his lips. She could feel his hand tightening on her back, his other touched her shoulder lightly. She pulled away slightly and opened her eyes to find his.
His eyes flicked down to her lips and he subconsciously wet his with his tongue.
Her lips parted ever so slightly.
Her breathing was almost erratic at this point.
The hand she held against his cheek trembled slightly and she grasp the fabric of his shirt tighter.
He was leaning down towards her.
"Mr Molesley! Mr Molesley!"
Children's voices rang out abruptly from through the trees.
They parted suddenly. Both incredibly flustered.
"Mr Molesley!" The children's voices were persistent and Mr Molesley gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed. "Are you there, Mr Molesley"
Miss Baxter tried to give him a smile she hoped would be comforting but he didn't meet her eyes.
"I'm here" His voice rang out sharply.
Five young faces appeared over the fence. All grinning and flushed with running in the sun.
"What to come fishing with us down the river?" The eldest chirped up, oblivious to what he had disturbed.
"No" His voice was still sharp but upon seeing the children's faces Mr Molesley softened "Not today James, I have company"
The children's eyes all immediately switched to Miss Baxter and she waved at them, incredibly self-conscious and uncomfortably aware her cheeks were flushed and her breathing too fast. She managed a small smile. The youngsters waved back and all disappeared back into the woods as swiftly as they'd come, pigtails and fishing nets flying behind them.
Mr Molesley grimaced. "Shouldn't you all be in school?" He shouted after them as an afterthought.
The silence around them echoed.
"Sorry"
He was hesitant to look at her now.
"Don't be silly" She murmured, still staring into the trees. She wasn't even sure what had just happened.
Whatever it was, the moment seemed to have gone.
"Shall…shall we go to lunch?" He was back at her side, hand hovering at near her lower back. Mr Molesley's confidence was failing him rather badly. A moment ago they'd been almost embracing and now, well now he couldn't even get the nerve to put his hand on her back properly.
"Lunch?" Miss Baxter unnecessarily straightened her dress and stepped away from him.
She felt silly and old and foolish.
"I thought we might walk to the tea room? It's definitely open now!" His voice was hopeful.
"That sounds nice" She gave him a wry smile.
They walked into the village together, along the country path. There was an odd space between them. He hadn't offered his arm when they left the cottage and she hadn't asked for it. In the tearooms they both ordered food and tea and sat in an difficult silence. With other people around them it was hard to talk about what had occurred between them in his garden that morning. But then, neither of them seemed to want to address it anyway.
His hand touched hers as he passed her the milk jug.
"I'm being ever so silly, Mr Molesley" Miss Baxter shook her head and rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"Are you, Miss Baxter?" He managed a small half smile.
"Yes!" She sipped her tea and looked at his properly. She leaned forwards across the table "Can we just start today over? I think I've made you uncomfortable?"
He nodded enthusiastically, face finally breaking into a relaxed smile. "You haven't…you didn't….aw, it doesn't matter"
So they started again. The conversation flowed as it had done before and soon they were laughing and chatting happily. He even ordered cake for them to share. Though Miss Baxter was careful not to let her fork touch his.
After lunch they walked back through the village and Mr Molesley suggest a walk, to 'make the most of the good weather'. And so they walked side by side though the fields, talking of nothing until the sun began to make i's journey back down.
Once again the evening brought some much needed coolness to the air and Miss Baxter shivered. Her light summer dress wasn't much of a barrier against the cold.
"Here" Unexpectedly she felt Mr Molesley drape his jacket over her shoulders. He'd been carrying it around all afternoon for this very purpose. But Miss Baxter wasn't to know that.
The jacket was warm against her skin and she pulled it tighter around her. It smelled good.
He was watching her with an odd look on his face.
"I'm sorry if I upset you today" His voice was so quite she might have missed it.
"You didn't upset me?" She frowned a little and turned to look at him shyly as they continued walking.
"I offended you then?" He persisted.
"Not at all" She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
They'd stopped walking.
Miss Baxter pulled the warm jacket tighter around her shoulders and looked up at Mr Molesley. He gulped, visibly nervous.
"…Can I try again?"
Her chest tightened. Did he just ask what she thought he'd asked?
"Try again?" Her voice was soft, timid. It made Mr Molesley's stomach flutter.
He nods.
Miss Baxter stands still at the end of a field under a canopy of trees. The evening breeze lights flutters her skirts as Mr Molesley leans towards her and places a tender kiss on her forehead. His hands fall to her shoulders, lightly rubbing then in a comforting guesture. She brings her hands up slowly and places them squarely on his chest, enjoying the soft fabric under her skin.
He presses a second kiss to her temple.
Her eyes flutter closed.
"Try again" She breathes.
He kisses her again, this time on her cheek. His hands have moved to her back now and are holding her closely to him, his fingers spread as if to hold onto as much of her as possible.
Her heart is racing.
"Again"
Miss Baxter can barely breathe as his lips find hers.
It's a slow chaste kiss.
He tastes of tea. His arms feel good around her. Protective.
Her hands curl into his chest, gripping his shirt, pulling his closer.
She opens her lips a little.
He needs no more encouragement.
There is no holding back now; months and months of pent up feelings, of frustration, are given to the kiss. The warmth of his lips against her cold ones is wonderful. She sucks a little on his bottom lip and he moans into her mouth, pulling her closer to him still, willing this moment not to end. Her hand finds his neck and he hesitantly darts his tongue across her open lips. She parts them further willingly, appreciating this may be his first time kissing anyone, and finds his full kisses are sweet and tender and slow.
It's lovely.
Breathless he draws back from her and leans his forehead against hers, hugging her against him.
"Same time next week?" Mr Molesley asks timidly, a twinkle in his eyes.
Miss Baxter giggles.
Her hand strokes the bare skin on his neck and he shudders at her touch. Eyes flickering closed in contentment.
"Walk me back to Downton?" Miss Baxter has some trouble finding her voice. It comes out a little throaty and shy.
"Of course" Mr Molesley reluctantly releases her and immediately takes her hand in his as if afraid she'd be lost without his guidance. He's partly right. But not at this moment.
At this moment Miss Baxter has never felt more certain of herself.
She squeezes his hand, provoking a shy smile from him.
Neither of them can wait till the next day off.
Sorry for the rubbish upload the first time! I've edited the chapter so should read as normal now :) Also...the place I'm currently staying is called Molesley Village! How funny is that!? Xxx