The servants hall was echoing with excitement and laughter as the servants enjoyed their rare evening off. Their leaders stood silhouetted in the door frame nobody paying them any attention.
"I think we can return to the cottage Charles, Miss Baxter and Molesley have it all in order for Lord and Lady Grantham. Mr Bates has already wandered home." Elsie looks up at the man beside her, a sudden need to be in their warm cottage, the sights and sounds of work long forgotten is the most desirous feeling in the world. She feels his hand press gently to the small of her back as he eases her from the doorframe.
"Are you sure everything will be alright?" Elsie rolls her eyes at the reluctance apparent in her husband's voice at the thought of returning home, and here she was overjoyed that they had an evening to themselves.
"Quite fine. Mr Molesley is trustworthy and Miss Baxter is a dear. They will be fine."
"I didn't really mean that. I meant upstairs with Lord and Lady Grantham."
"Charles, they have asked to be left alone. To dine alone. They are quite sure of what that entails otherwise they would not have suggested the idea. I know you think they're really grand and above serving themselves but they're not. They know the most important things in life are family and each other. That's why they want to be alone. I don't doubt his lordship wants to mend broken bridges once and for all." The way Charles is convinced that Lord and Lady Grantham are above every other being on the earth infuriates her. Deep down they are just the same as all other people, desperate to spend time alone with the people they love most."
"You're quite right. But for his lordship to dismiss Bates, he doesn't do that very often." Elsie glowers at her husband, what is it men don't understand? Women like to be pampered.
"Because he doesn't often dine with only his wife."
"And Miss Baxter said her ladyship asked to be dressed in a very risqué dress."
"Mr Carson," she snaps his surname, something she has rarely used since their marriage. "I thought you'd be pleased she wasn't wearing the risqué dress for some other man. It proves she wants to let his lordship mend the bridges. Let's not judge them for it." She snatches his coat roughly from the peg and opens the door. The gust of cold night air helps to clear her head and calm her tangled nerves. She hears the skipping steps behind her as Charles races to catch up. The heavy steps are quickly replaced by his rattling breath and a large hand upon her bent elbow.
"Elsie, I'm sorry if I annoyed you. I guess I have just forgotten what they were like before the children. I remember vividly evenings when the dowager used to scrutinise them across the dinner table because they'd been out in the grounds all day and her ladyship often came back with varying amounts of the countryside on her dresses and in her hair. I suppose they want that freedom to indulge in just each other again. And since I've married I have learnt why it is so valuable." The glint in his eyes is visible even in the black night. She can't help but blush, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms about her waist and kiss her cheek, an early goodnight kiss. She is thankful her blush is invisible in the shadowy night, her step noticeably quickens as she hurries for the cottage, her husband easily keeping up with her desire filled pace as he saunters behind her.
Molesley stands in the vacated doorway of Mr and Mrs Carson admiring the willowy figure of Miss Baxter. She leans over the table as she reaches for the discarded card of the previous player. Lord and Lady Grantham now settled in the dining room, he'd taken the opportunity to sneak downstairs to speak with her, only to find her laughing and joking along with the other servants as they enjoyed the freedom of an evening without the Carson's. Molesley hesitates before he steps forward and puts his hand on the lady's back to catch her attention. He doesn't wish to interrupt their game but Mrs Carson had left strict instructions as to how they were to make the evening perfect for their employers and the next part required Miss Baxter. Molesley can't help but feel a great pride as Miss Baxter turns and he spies the rosy blush that highlights her cheeks.
"Mr Molesley, how can I help you?" He's relieved their conversation doesn't attract the other servants attention. He feels his own cheeks grow warm as he removes his hand tentatively from her back and he has to swallow the lump in his throat twice before the words finally swim into the hot air.
"It's time to go and decorate her ladyship's bedroom. They are currently having their dinner."
"Have you set up the gramophone?" As their conversation drifts to more mundane, work related things and the touching of their bodies becomes a more distant memory Molesley slowly relaxes and they laugh as they ascend the stairs to her ladyship's room an array of roses, champagne and a note form the Carson's heavy in their arms.
"Do you think they will appreciate the effort?" Her voice beaks through he silence that has accompanied their work for the last half an hour and as Molesley stands straight ready to admire their achievements he ends up studying not only the roses on the bed but the slight figure on the opposite side of the bed. Miss Baxter's slim frame with her raven black hair and the chocolate brown eyes that observe everything without so much as moving. He breaks his gaze immediately from her eyes when they meet and he shuffles the sheet on the bed for what must be the thousandth time.
"I think so. They are quite a romantic pair, we all know that. You more than most."
"Yes," her giggle is ridiculously captivating and as she continues to speak he notes very little of what she says as he repeats the sound in his mind, the beautiful chimes engraved in his memory, never to be lost.
Cora had been sitting in the chair beside Robert but the urge at the end of their main course to move to sit on his lap was too great and when his arms had slowly encircled her waist and she'd pried his black tie from its place and rubbed her fingers in slow circles on his neck thoughts of finishing her dinner had been left far behind. His hand runs sleepily around her neck and traces the path of her necklace and she is greatly gratified when he twists the loose ringlet she'd asked Baxter to leave from her coif around his finger. Her hands slips quickly down his front and she makes to push the jacket from his shoulders. She's relieved when he doesn't resist and his eyes, currently speckled with navy, survey her skin hungrily. Her hands seem to arrive at the buttons on his shirt before she asks them to and her lips meet his in a mesmerising dance. However, when the silent music controlling their lips stops she's surprised to find his eyes have returned to the sky blue they usually possess, with no navy streaks, and his finger reaches immediately for her lips stopping her joining their mouths in a waltz once again.
"Later my darling." She wishes to demand like a petulant child that she can't wait until later but the fire on her lips still sizzling from their kiss denies her the opportunity to think. "We haven't finished eating." It irritates her how calmly he forms the word and stares into the depths of her eyes only serving to send her heart racing again. Dinner had been beautiful, with the ability to sit beside each other and talk and flirt with no difficulty, unlike the usual dinner arrangements where they have to regard each other longingly across the table. When she'd sidled onto his lap after the main she had thought he'd be ready to forgo dessert for a more desirous activity but it seemed he was desperate to set her as far on edge as possible.
Doubtless to say when she swivels her head to peek at the unknown dessert that might lie beneath the ceramic bowl she gasps and jumps in his lap eliciting a small moan from him, her previous desire is dimmed a little in the face of succulent scarlet strawberries and a bowl of freshly whipped cream hidden between them. Just as a young child would upon seeing their favourite treat upon the table or being told they may visit the sweet shop, Cora reaches for the biggest strawberry in the bowl only for her favourite hand to reach out and clasp her wrist.
"That's my job Cora." She groans about his pedantic nature but before she can utter a word she shivers and tips her head back onto his shoulder as he trails three burning kisses over her bare neck. His swollen lips leave her alone and he reaches around her before dipping the large berry in a generous amount of cream and holding it before her mouth. It was a game they had played ever since their wedding night when, in order to relax her he had bought into their bedroom a bowl of what he already knew to be her favourite fruits and had gently fed them to her as he slowly removed her clothes and kissed the bare skin exposed. He had, on that night convinced her to offer them to him too and to help him remove his clothes. It had worked and very quickly the nervousness she had felt was replaced by a desire to be kissed by him, with or without the berries.
She takes a large bite from the one loitering by her lips and in the process much of the cream remains around her lips rather than in her mouth, as she reaches to brush it away, the pad of his thumb glances over her lips and swipes the cream from her skin. She reaches for the bowl and coating the next strawberry in creams he offers it to him. She shivers when his lips shimmer on her finger and huffs when his big mouth devours the whole strawberry, they were her treat, not his!
"Robert, that's not fair I want some strawberry too."
"Really? Here I was thinking you desired my lips more than the berries. But obviously I am wrong." She knows he is teasing but she can't help pouting like a child and fluttering her eyelashes, he laughs and leaning forward kisses her squarely on the nose. "You may have my kisses later, I promise. But first I wish to finish the strawberries, poor Mrs Patmore had to change her whole plans when I went down this afternoon and demanded we had them for dessert rather than her famous raspberry meringue. She was quite devastated so you, Lady Grantham, had better eat up." She rolls her eyes at the use of her title, something he only says to her when he is set on making her suffer before giving in to her desires; it's one of his practiced methods of seduction. She lies her head back on his shoulder and let's him feed her the berries. His fingers linger longer each time she takes a bite and she desperately tries to swallow the urge to rip his shirt open, knowing that such an action will only result in him increasing the level of play to the point where she will be unable to move, speak or think and yet still she knows he will refrain from giving her what she most desires. It is for this reason she just keeps her focus on the smell and taste of the strawberry rather than his skin.