This is a chapter to skip if you're not a Carson/ Hughes fan. Because you really won't like it.
They did not usually spend nights in each other's rooms; for one thing it was far too risky- all they needed was for Miss O'Brien to see the door go at the wrong moment and they were as good as discovered. Tonight, however, was one of those nights when they thought they'd just about earned it; and Charles came tiptoeing through the door at an hour reasonably late enough to expect that everyone else would be asleep. She was relieved to see him to say the least, she had not spoken to him properly since they had auditioned together. He closed the door firmly before either dared to speak.
"Well done," was the first thing he said to her, extremely sincerely, and, "Thank you. You've probably saved me from a good few awkward situations to say the least over the next few weeks."
She smiled, getting into bed, leaving space for him beside her.
"You know," she admitted, "For a few moments, I thought her Ladyship was going to cave in and let O'Brien do it. I really did."
Charles shuddered at the thought. Very well, it was only acting, but still. He'd really rather not have to act out falling in love with Miss O'Brien of all people. Judging by the look on Elsie's face, she completely sympathised with that notion. He got in bed beside her, hugging her to his chest.
"So it's another married couple for us, then," he remarked, "You aren't worried about that, are you?" he asked her, remembering her reaction to the Macbeth casting.
"I think everyone who's likely to notice has already noticed," she pointed out, referring rather wryly to the nosey brigade, as she was coming to think of them.
"What about Miss O'Brien?" he asked her, a rather unsavoury notion occurring to him, "She's bound to keep her eye on you, now that you've taken her part."
"When does anyone with any sense really believe what O'Brien says?" she asked him, "You'll just have to make it look like you aren't enjoying kissing me."
He seemed quite alarmed at that prospect, which could have been flattering until he said:
"We have to kiss? On the stage?"
She nodded.
"I can't believe her Ladyship's letting that girl practically direct the play!"
She was about to ask what made him presume that it had been Lady Sybil's idea, but then again he was quite right, it had been. And she didn't think he was alone in that particular opinion either: having asked Mrs Crawley what the matter was this morning when she appeared in the house looking harassed, she had simply replied "Lady Sybil problems."
"She said something like it wasn't something she was under the impression we would mind doing," she caught sight of his aghast expression, and smiled slightly, "Don't worry, I've told Mrs Crawley to box her ears for me as soon as she thinks no one's looking."
They settled to lie quietly beside each other for a while. Neither wanted particularly to go to sleep.
"So, are you looking forward to our first music rehearsal?" he asked finally.
"Why do I have to be there?" she wanted to know, "Maria doesn't sing. They're just for you and Mr Branson to try to get your notes right."
"Oh no," he told her, "You're going to them too. Or didn't Lady Sybil tell you? She wants you to do a duet with Mr Branson."
Elsie, infuriated by his typically male unwillingness to admit that he was wrong, reached for the copy of Twelfth Night lying on the floor beside her bed.
"See," she told him, showing him how she'd highlighted all of her lines already, "Maria doesn't sing."
"Director's decision," he informed her calmly, as if it was the final word. Which, regrettably, it probably was.
Elsie thought she might have to add herself to the list of people lining up to kill Lady Sybil the next morning.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, "I can't sing!"
"Well," he replied, looking a little awkward, "I wouldn't have wanted to act as if I was married to Miss O'Brien now, would I? I certainly wouldn't want to have to kiss her."
"I have a good mind to force you straight out of my bed, Charles Carson," she told him bluntly.
"Go to sleep," he replied, and then, because he couldn't help it, "Save your voice for your duet."
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