A/N Sorry for the delay! RL was hard last week and I had absolutely no inspiration at all. And before you get a chapter that I don't like, I rather wait until the plot bunny knocks on my door again.

We are so close to Series 03 now...
Thanks for all the reviews so far!

The characters are not mine (except Mrs. Barnes). And Downton Abbey does not belong to me.

Elsie Hughes works hard, concentrated, without making any fuss. The other housemaids accept her almost the day after her arrival. There are no hard words and none of the other young women envy her or her position. Mrs. Barnes talks about her in their evening meetings, tells him about the new girl. How she is so different compared to the last head housemaid, fair, calm, yet strict and demanding when it is needed. Somehow it makes him proud to hear that, confirms his initial impression he had about her. On the other hand he is ashamed of the pride he feels, because it clouds his judgement of her and most of all violates the rules he has set for himself – not entirely but severely enough.

Still he cannot help himself and often observes her unnoticed when he is on his rounds along the vast corridors and floors of the house. Sometimes he stops at the end of a hallway, studying her back when she dusts some tables or the old oil paintings. At other times he follows her into the rooms she has to prepare for guests, just to make sure everything is in order. But in fact there is no need for him to control her work. It is only an excuse for him to see her more often when all he wants is to avoid her as much as possible.

But then, every morning she is the first of the housemaids he notices in the servants hall, every night she is the last person he sees – except of course for Mrs. Barnes. For him, she has a remarkable presence as soon as she enters the room. He does not know what it is: the way she moves, smiles, talks to the other maids, her eyes, her positiveness? It's a mystery to him.

In the evenings he has to send her up to bed more than once, tell her that her work for the day is done and that she has to take some rest. She only smiles at him during these one-sided conversations, expresses her agreement with a simple nod and turns on her heel to go upstairs. He tries not to look at her when she does so, closes his eyes or leaves for his pantry immediately. The proximity is too much and he is inevitably aware of his superior position in these moments. And of his weaknesses.

She likes her new position. The house is huge, has numerous staircases, labyrinthine corridors, so many different rooms that she gets lost in the first few days of her employment. Maybe that is why he follows her around so often. Keeps an eye on her when she prepares the rooms for new guests? She cannot help but smile in his presence although she does not want to. After all, he is her superior, the butler, the most senior position in the household. And she knows nothing about him just has this feeling that she can trust him, entirely.

Everyone is nice to her. That is something she is not used to, not from her previous employments. There had always been some maids that envied her; always been young footmen that turned around whistling at her when she walked past them. Downton Abbey is not such a place. She is treated with respect from the start. This also includes the housekeeper. And Elsie tries to learn fast to keep that respect, memorize her daily tasks, the names of the housemaids and the different ways and shortcuts around the house. The place is exactly how she had imagined it to be. It is perfect and she does everything she can to keep it that way.

She even works longer than is required of her. Not because she thinks that it will influence what the other servants think of her – she is not interested in that – but because the work makes her happy. For the first time in years she is content with what she is doing. There is no urge anymore to run away, find something better, a more respected position. Especially not when he is the one that reminds her, late at night, to go to bed, take some rest. He is indeed different than all the men she's encountered before.

Two months pass. It is late summer now and one morning she wakes up, all of a sudden remembering the different smells that accompanied her throughout her childhood. The window in their small room was open overnight and from outside she perceives the scent of cut wheat. The harvest has always been her favourite time of the year and the one she dreaded most. Hard work, long hours, from the dark hours of the morning to the gloomy hours of nightfall, defined her days back then. Yet the celebrations after a successful harvest are one of her favourite memories.

Elsie pushes the covers back, gets out of the bed and walk across the room towards the window. She has to stand on tiptoes to look out. The meadows stretch endlessly to either side of the estate until they are swallowed by the horizon. No hills obstruct her view. She can see the small people in the distance working on the fields, hears their shouts, the melodies they sing. Inevitably another thought crosses her mind: Joe. She has not heard from him, has not given him an answer yet.

She steps away from the window. It is so cold suddenly. A shiver runs down her spine and she tries to keep warm by wrapping her arms around her body. Joe. Is he still a suitor?

A second annual event has to be planned. After the harvest, the Earl of Grantham traditionally invites all his tenant farmers for a huge harvest fest. He thinks about this when he opens the window in his small room upstairs in the servant's quarters. There is this familiar smell, the faint sound of farmers singing their songs while they work. He likes this time of the year but at the same time hates the preparations for the festivities. Especially this year when it is the first time he is in charge. He can no longer rely on others. It will be him who has to make plans with Mrs. Barnes later. He will have to instruct the footmen what to do. They have three weeks to prepare everything, to make this day perfect.

He closes the window immediately. Shuts out what he had enjoyed mere minutes before. A few deep breaths are needed to calm him down. He is capable of this, knows what to do. And he has enough people in this household he can trust. Still, his knees start to shake slightly and he has to sit down for a moment.

Downstairs there is nothing left of the insecurity he has felt in the early morning hours. His back is straight, his voice deep and demanding when he orders the hall boys around to fetch some more fresh tea for breakfast. They all stand up when he enters the servant's hall, wish him good morning. Before he sits down he catches a glimpse of Elsie Hughes, a smile on her lips as always. He does not answer it today, is afraid to get lost in it, forget about his work for a moment. Today he needs to be the stern butler, represent the house perfectly. So he only nods towards Mrs. Barnes, takes his seat and starts handing out the porridge the cook has prepared.

All during breakfast his eyes are fixed either on his food in front of him, or on the housekeeper, when they quickly talk about the various tasks of the day. It takes all his self-control to not look in her direction and even more of it, when breakfast is over and she walks past him to take care of the bedrooms upstairs, accidentally brushing his right shoulder with her hand. He clenches his teeth, closes his eyes before he can continue with the conversation he is presently having with Mrs. Barnes.

"We'll have to make sure the tents will be cleaned and tested before the event, Mr. Carson."

"I agree with you." He has to force himself to look at her. "I shall hand this task over to the more experienced boys this afternoon."

"Very well." Mrs. Barnes gets up, pats his shoulder. "You should get some distraction, Mr. Carson."

He knows what she is implying but he does not have a solution for this problem.

A breathless hall boy stands before her, waving a cream coloured envelope. "For you Miss Hughes", he pants after having climbed all the stairs to the second floor bachelor's corridor. She never gets any letters, not even from her sister who is still cross with her for moving away even further from her home. So it must be something important and one quick glance onto the front of the small envelope confirms her suspicions. Joe. She put it in the pocket of her apron, excuses herself and leaves the two maids alone. This is important. She has to read it now.

Elsie descends the stairs in a hurry, walks across the corridors, tries to find a place where she can read the letter. She does not want to go upstairs to her room. No negative feelings should invade her sanctuary, especially no regrets. Aimlessly she stumbles across the large hall, reaches the staircase that leads to the kitchen. She almost runs along the hallways towards the backdoor. Outside she finds a bench, sits down and tries to catch her breath before she takes out the letter again.

TBC

a little cliffhanger...