The dressing gong had sounded promptly at seven, with Roger making a meal of it in Elsie's opinion. Eight o'clock was fast approaching. Mr. Carson and the children were not back yet. Fraulein Kelda was not inclined to call them back, so it would be up to Mr. Carson to call an end to the day. It was always going to be a near thing for Mr. Carson to clean up and be properly composed for dinner service. Now it was a question of him even being back before dinner started.
Elsie made sure Geoffrey had polished a fresh pair of shoes for Mr. Carson to lay out with his dinner clothes. She also saw to it that there was a basin of fresh water and towels for him to wash the mud from his face. Mrs. Pearson had made the evening's wine selections. All that was needed for dinner now was the man himself.
It was almost well dark before the small group finally approached the house. Elsie made sure her work kept her near the windows so she could look out for them. She was rechecking the table setting for the thirteenth time when she saw them. Three bicycles were buzzing around a walking figure. She noticed that the figure was limping slightly. One of the bicycle riders fell over randomly. That's poor Edith all over, Elsie thought.
As they got closer, she realized that Mr. Carson was carrying a sleeping Sybil in one arm and trailing her bike behind him with the other. Elsie's heart hurt vaguely to think that this man had chosen to never have children of his own. All he could ever have was this watered down version of fatherhood where the children called him by his last name and took him for granted.
Still, she saw the obvious respect and affection all three girls had for him and her heart swelled a bit remembering the way Lady Sybil had kissed him. It seemed to be enough for him. She also remembered that she'd made the same choice that he had. She hoped it would be enough for her.
She woke Fraulein Kelda in the servant's hall and informed her that her charges would be arriving soon. The woman had nodded off reading Goethe. Nice work if you can get it, Elsie thought sardonically. She and the governess met the group in the back hallway.
Now that she saw him up close, Mr. Carson looked as though he had been drawn and quartered by the four children. He was sweaty and covered in mud almost head to toe. There was a tear in his trouser leg, his shoes were in a deplorable state, his shirt had come untucked completely, the shoulder seam on his jacket was coming loose and his hair was obscuring the vision of his right eye.
"We've left the bikes beside the work shed, Fraulein." He informed her in an exhausted tone that seemed to say if he never saw another bicycle, it would be too soon.
"And what is that to me, Mr. Carson? You must see to their storage. There is no room in the nursery for such things."
Mr. Carson obviously did not have the time or inclination to argue further. Without another word he gently shoved the sleeping Lady Sybil into Fraulein Kelda's unwelcoming arms and brushed past them all as he headed directly to his room.
Elsie walked back into the servant's hall. The clock showed ten minutes until eight. There had been odds laid on the prospect of Mr. Carson getting dinner started on time tonight. Elsie saw more money exchanging hands and heard a few comments of, "I'll take a piece of that." as she headed into the kitchen to inform Mrs. Cobb that Mr. Carson had returned. She had her own side bet with the cook. She was growing nervous about her chances.
The clock chimed at the same instant the dining room bell rang to signal the beginning of dinner service. Disbelieving looks were exchanged as everyone jumped into action. Elsie made sure she found an excuse to accompany the first course upstairs. Mrs. Pearson was already there, as she had decanted the wines. Elsie risked a peak from behind the screen when she reached the dining room.
Mr. Carson, looking as neat as a pin, stood beside the buffet holding a carafe of golden wine. There was not a hair out of place. His nose was, perhaps, a bit sunburned, but otherwise, there were no signs of the trials of the day; not even one speck of mud. When he moved to top off Mr. Crawley's wine, the limp was imperceptible to anyone who didn't know to look for it.
It was a very small dinner. Besides Mr. Crawley and Her Ladyship, there was only the new doctor and his wife and the vicar. James Crawley was tedious company at dinner, especially when he is the only guest, so several last minute invitations had been sent. The Dowager Countess had also been invited, but she had conveniently remembered a previous engagement, which she'd previously declined.
Currently, the best conversation in the room was between Lady Grantham and her butler. Mr. Carson was amiably answering her ladyship's inquiries regarding the day of cycling.
"Ladies Mary and Edith are doing quite well, My Lady. I believe they could be unsupervised, provided they are instructed to stay clear of the lake. Lady Sybil still requires some assistance, but only because she has no pedals and must use the hills. I am sure Fraulein Kelda is up to the task."
"That is wonderful to hear. You certainly went above and beyond your duties today, Mr. Carson." She smiled up at him as he filled her wine glass.
"I know we ask much, but the girls do so enjoy you. I appreciate your making the time for them, especially with His Lordship away."
"Thank you for saying so, My Lady. But, I will be offering an extra prayer this Sunday for His Lordship's hasty return." He said, moving on to fill the vicar's empty glass, leaving Cora smiling into her wine.
CE—
It was a mixed crowd at the servant's dinner that evening. There were many sour faces and a small number of very smug expressions. The odds laid against Mr. Carson had been quite high. Sitting at her place midway up the table, Elsie struggled to keep a placid countenance as she considered her own bet with Mrs. Cobb. It was difficult not to smile when she thought of what she'd won.
Elsie was only absently aware of Mr. Carson as he instructed Roger and Geoffrey to secure the bicycles in the shed. He was suggesting that they hang the bikes there by their tires.
"If there are not enough pegs, we can add more tomorrow," he concluded, rising. "If you need anything else, I'll be in my pantry, Mrs. Pearson." He moved stiffly to the pantry door, which he closed behind him.
"Mrs. Pearson, could you spare Elsie to help me with the bicycles?" Elsie heard Roger ask.
Elsie looked up upon hearing her name. What could he be about? Surely a footman and a hall boy could handle four bicycles between the two of them.
"It's only that Geoffrey is needed to prepare some things for tomorrow."
"Mr. Carson seemed to think he had time to help you with the bicycles in addition to this work, Roger." Mrs. Pearson pointed out.
"Yes, but he's so short, I'm not sure how much assistance he would be; the pegs in the shed are quite high."
"Is Elsie so much taller?" Mrs. Pearson set down her fork and knife in preparation for a long battle. Her girls were not be be ordered about by a footman. Especially Elsie, who was practically housekeeper.
They'll spend more time debating who should do the task than the task itself would take, Elsie thought. She deplored such waste. Elsie cut into the conversation, "I should be happy to help, Mrs. Pearson. It shouldn't take long."
Elsie did not like the smile that Roger gave her, as though he'd won the debate with Mrs. Pearson. He was just a mischievous footman and needed to be put back in his place. Elsie took the upper hand.
"Shall we see to it now, Roger? I have other things to do this evening as well." She rose briskly and was out the backdoor before he could respond.
Seeing the bicycles now, Elsie marveled that none of the girls looked as though they'd been swimming. Every bicycle had obviously been in the lake, perhaps multiple times. There were reeds in some of the spokes and water lilies stuck to the frames of both Lady Sybil and Lady Edith's bicycles. Elsie wondered how Mr. Carson had managed to keep the girls dry. Even Mr. Patrick's bike had wet tires and a mud line on the frame as though it had been partially submerged in the muddy bank of the lake.
Elsie was in the shed, reaching up to hang Lady Mary's bicycle on the highest peg, when Roger walked up behind her. He reached over her and finished lifting the bike wheel onto the peg for her. She turned to express her thanks and retrieve Lady Edith's bike before she realized that he had not backed away after securing the bicycle. He was quite close to her and was leaning in suggestively, pinning her between his body and the wall of the shed.
"Excuse me, Roger." She started to push past him, but he did not move.
"What's the hurry, Elsie? We so rarely get a moment alone. Shouldn't we enjoy a chance when it's offered?" He lowered one hand from the wall of the shed to stroke the side of her face.
"We've very different ideas of what is enjoyable. Now, please stand back. If you've time to fool about, you have time to handle the rest of the bikes on your own." She forced his hand away from her face.
"How can you toy with me like this, Elsie?" He pleaded in what he probably thought was an endearing way.
"Toy with you?" Her voice was beginning to rise in pitch as her anger was starting to rise. "And what would I want with the likes of you? If you know what is good for you, you will step back this instant."
"Oh, I've never been very good at knowing what was good for me, Elsie, my lovely girl. But I'm willing to show you what's good for you." He had hold of her wrists now, pinning her arms to her sides as he bent down to kiss her neck. Her knee came up hard into his groin. He crumpled to the floor of the shed cursing with the little breath that remained in him. She'd had to deal with the likes of him on more than one occasion. She had, after all, grown up on a farm.
"I did warn you," she bristled at him. "I trust you can see to remaining bikes." She stepped around him but stopped in the shed doorway. Turning back, her voice became icy and her words dripped with undeniable authority. "Any repetition of these actions, with myself or any other girl on this staff will result in your immediate dismissal, Roger, so you had better make up your mind to behave yourself, or seek other employment."
TBC-