If I were to name this chapter, it would be "Mr. Molesley Causes Trouble." I have been rather horrid to Molesley in my other fic, so I'm trying to be nicer to him here, but he's still Molesley… Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Settling herself in the servants' parlor, Anna opened her book, contenting herself to read and relax from her afternoon away. Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley were away from the house, having dinner with a family friend, so Anna needed to stay up until they returned in order to help Lady Mary dress for bed.
Mr. Molesley plodded in after a time, settling in the armchair adjacent to the fireplace.
"What are you reading?" He inquired.
Anna showed him the cover. "Theodore Roosevelt? What made you choose that book?"
Anna closed the book. She wasn't going to get any more reading done while Mr. Molesley was feeling so chatty. "I started reading about America a few months ago. Just something interesting that I'd never explored before."
Molesley nodded, accepting her answer at face value and moving on to prattle about the next morning's trip to Paris. Anna was relieved that he didn't push the subject. How could she ever explain to him that months ago, she thought that right now, she would actually be in America, essentially hiding out with Lady Mary from their mutual notoriety? The murderer's widow and the scandalized daughter of the Earl had been planning to run away to where no one knew their names. To heal, to lick their wounds, to start again with a clean slate. But for a few circumstances, her current life would be very different. She couldn't begin to explain that to Mr. Molesley, and she wouldn't try. It was really none of his business anyway.
The bell rung from the dressing room that Lady Mary was using, saving Anna from anymore potential inquiries from Mr. Molesley. "Oh! I didn't realize they were back! I had intended to be up there sooner than this. I haven't laid out her nightgown yet."
Anna stood quickly and rushed out of the servants' parlor.
Molesley stood and stretched, knowing that if Lady Mary was ringing, her new husband would not be long behind her. Not paying attention to where he was walking, Molesley collided with the side table, knocking Anna's book on the floor. Stooping to retrieve it, Molesley noticed the letter that had been tucked inside, now laying open on the carpet.
My dear Mr. Bates...
What an odd way to address your husband. Molesley thought to himself.
He had always been morbidly curious about the interaction between the unlikely couple and now found his curiosity to be overwhelming. Picking up the letter, he glanced at the door where Anna had exited before he read the words she had written.
I am sitting on the train to London, thinking about you. Do you remember how you kissed me the morning after our wedding? We knew we would not find ourselves together like that again for a while, little did we know how long it would actually be. You kissed me like I was the very thing keeping you alive, touching me so tenderly until I cried out your name for the sheer pleasure of the moment. How I long for your touch again my love. The memories of your lips on my body, your hands, touching me the way no one else ever had or ever shall, invade my thoughts at the most inopportune times.
Molesley's eyes grew wide as he read the words from his sweet counterpart to her imprisoned husband. Never would he have imagined that Anna would write such lurid things. There had been a question amongst the staff as to whether or not the Bates' marriage had ever been consummated. From the sounds of this letter, there was no doubt about it. Feeling his face flush bright read, Molesley stuffed the letter back in Anna's book and strode quickly out of the room, trying to get as much distance between himself and the letter as he possibly could.
Part 2
The next day passed in flurries of activity followed by long periods of waiting. Early in the morning, they boarded a train that would take them from London to the coast. Once again, Anna found herself alone in a 3rd class train car with . Something about the valet was off, but Anna couldn't quite put her finger on what it was exactly.
Doesn't really matter she mused, at least he's being quiet.
Anna pulled the half finished letter to Mr. Bates from her book. It looked oddly rumpled, with a strange crease in one page. She was sure she had tucked it away neatly when she had put it away. Putting the matter out of her mind, a small smile came to Anna's face as she continued to pen words to her husband.
A small cough came from across the car. Looking up, she saw Molesley's face was flushed.
"Mr. Molesley, are you quite alright?" Anna strenuously hoped that he didn't vomit at any point in this journey.
"Yes." Molesley sputtered, "quite fine."
Shaking her head, Anna returned to her letter. Molesley was taking deep, noisy breaths across from her. How was she supposed to write a lovely suggestive letter to her husband with Molesley gasping for air like a fish out of water? Anna gritted her teeth and did not look up from her paper.
"Are you writing to Mr. Bates?" Molesley finally asked, shakily. What is wrong with him? Anna thought before responding.
"I am. I try to write a little bit, every day. It helps me, to keep my feeling about him being gone contained."
"I'll bet he likes getting letters from you." Molesley was stuttering like a schoolboy asking a girl to his first dance.
"He says he does." Anna agreed, not sure what had gotten in to her companion.
"Yes." Molesley smiled a little sickly smile. Anna hoped, once again, that he wasn't going to be sick on the train.
Molesley managed to keep himself together until they were on the ferry, crossing the English Channel. By the middle of the relatively short ferry ride, he was obviously suffering from severe motion sickness.
Anna found him leaning over the side of the ferry, emptying the contents of his stomach into the water. Grimacing, she patted his back gently. "The porter's bringing some tea to our compartment for you Mr. Molesley, if you think you can manage it."
Molesley's face was slightly green, but he managed a grateful smile. "I think I can manage."
Anna led him gently back to their seating area, which unfortunately, they did not have to themselves. Anna maneuvered them both around the rotund Scottish man who seemed to be very amused by Molesley's sickly pallor and did not move to make it easier for Anna to get Molesley into his seat.
After she got him settled into his seat, Anna looked around for the promised tea. "I'm going to check on that tea, Mr. Molesley, and maybe find you a cool cloth for your head."
Moving back around the Scot, Anna left the compartment in search of tea. She met the porter in the hall and was back with tea and a cool compress in no time. She found however, that she had been gone long enough for their unwelcome companion to take matters into his own hands. She reentered the seating area just as Molesley was handing him back a large flask.
"There ya go, that'll cure what ails ya!" The man said robustly. Anna groaned. She knew that Molesley had little tolerance for alcohol, remembering once when he was asked to serve at dinner and became drunk simply from taste testing the wine.
"Really," She practically shouted at the man, "I don't think that is what he needs!"
"I'm right as rain Anna." Molesley slurred, half from motion sickness and half from whatever alcohol the Scot had given him. Just as he finished speaking, he clamped his mouth shut with a panicked look.
"Out, out on deck!" Anna pulled him by the shoulder until he was once again heaving over the side of the ferry.
Molesley and Anna sat on the deck for the rest of the ferry ride, both avoiding their companion and waiting for Molesley's stomach to settle.
Once they were on the second train of the day, the one that would take them from the ferry into Paris, Anna managed to find them a private train car. Molesley was little to no help with managing the luggage and other items between the ferry and the train.
"Here, Mr. Molesley, just lie down the best you can and rest." Anna was mopping his forehead with a wet towel, trying to keep him from being sick again.
Molesley lifted his head from the seat slightly. "Can I put my head in your lap?"
Knowing he was both drunk and sick, and well, Molesley, Anna did not take offense at his request, though neither did she honor it.
"No, Mr. Molesley, you're going to have to make do with your jacket I'm afraid." Anna was trying to be kind, but the whole trip was wearing on her nerves.
It seemed to Anna that the alcohol was affecting Molesley now more than the motion sickness, because the vomiting had ceased and the talking began.
"Anna, you really love Mr. Bates, don't you?" Molesley's eyes looked glassy and his face was cold and sweaty. Anna wondered if he even realized what he was saying.
"I do." She answered simply.
"When I came to work for Mr. Crawley, you were already his by then, weren't you?"
Anna sighed. This was the last conversation that she wanted to have right then, but she doubted that he'd remember it later, anyway.
"We were already best friends by then, and yes, I suppose I was already beginning to fall in love with him."
"So, I never had a chance." Molesley sighed tiredly and Anna thought he was going to start to cry.
"There is someone out there for you Mr. Molesley. You'll find her eventually and when you do, you'll think of me as a pale comparison."
"Mr. Bates is a lucky man." Molesley's words began to draw out and he was soon fast asleep.
Anna folded the towel that she'd been using to mop Molesley's forehead and sat back on her side of the aisle, laughing a little to herself at the absurdity of the day's events. John was never going to believe it when she told him.