A/N: Your reviews are wonderful! Thank you so much! Yes, this is a quick update...this chapter just sort of wrote itself. You'll learn a bit about Elsie's past...part of what causes her nightmares. And I know, I know...but well, I had to do it (you'll see what I mean when you read the chapter).


A blustery wind blew in as Richard opened the door and helped his companion inside. "You're freezing. Come on." He led her further in and kicked the door shut. "Elsie!"

Elsie heard the odd tone of Richard's voice and hurried out to meet him, startled to find him standing with his arm around Isobel Crawley. "What in the world?"

Isobel looked up at her friend and broke down, collapsing into Elsie's arms. "Matthew," she breathed on a sob.

Elsie turned startled eyes up to Richard. "Richard?"

Richard shook his head. "Help me get her upstairs. We need to get her out of these wet things and get her warmed up."

"I can take her. You warm yourself up." Elsie smiled at him when he started to protest. "I can manage, I promise. You take care of yourself. It wouldn't do for the doctor to catch his death from the cold."

Knowing not to argue with her, Richard simply nodded. "Fine then, but call if you need anything."

"I will." Elsie answered over her shoulder as she led Isobel up the stairs. "Come on then, shh," she soothed her friend. Walking into her room, she reached out to flip on the light, and then closed the door. "Take those wet things off and put on my dressing gown. I'm going to go run you a warm bath."

"Elsie." Isobel whispered.

"Shh, I know. We'll talk when I've got you warmed up."

Isobel closed her eyes and shuttered as she nodded. With shaky hands she began to unbutton her coat then flitted up to unpin her hat, letting it fall to the floor behind her. Her head felt as though a storm was stirring within it, mixing up her senses to the point where she couldn't function as she should.

Elsie returned to find Isobel standing half undressed in the middle of the room staring off at nothing. "Oh Isobel," she whispered, feeling her heart hurt for her friend. Gently helping her finish undressing, she wrapped her warm dressing gown around her friend then pulled the pins from her hair so that she could fix it to keep it out of the water. "Come on now."

Isobel's teeth chattered as she followed Elsie. Any strength she had was quickly ebbing away causing her to lean even more on her friend with each step they took. Looking down at the water in the tub, she merely stared, not making a move.

Elsie helped Isobel out of the dressing gown and into the water. "There now, you'll be warm in no time. I'm going to go make you some tea. I'll be right back, I promise," she added quickly when she noticed the panic in the other woman's eyes.

Isobel's teeth stopped chattering and her tears returned as she turned her head toward the wall and curled in on herself. She'd never felt this ache before, not even when her Reginald had died.

EEE

Elsie found Richard standing staring into the fire, a glass of scotch in his hand. "What happened?" she asked quietly.

"The weather. There was a patch of ice that he didn't see." Richard looked up at Elsie and held out his hand to her. Wrapping his arm around her when she stepped closer to him, he held her against his chest, taking comfort in her warmth and calm. "I tried, Elsie. I tried."

"Shh," she hushed him as she caressed his back. "I know that, so does she. It's just the shock. I'm sure whatever was said was only said in anguish."

Richard blinked in surprise. How had she known there'd been words? "How did you know?"

"I'm the granddaughter of a doctor, remember?" Elsie reminded him.

Richard sighed as he let his head rest against hers. "The family tried to get her to stay there, but she left. I don't know how she wound up on our doorstep."

"She walked from Crawley House I would assume as soaked through as she was." Elsie told him, keeping her voice low and soft, her hand still caressing his back. "Fill your glass and sit down to smoke your pipe. I've got to fix some tea to take up to Isobel. I don't want to be gone too long."

Richard caressed her cheek when she moved away from him. "You're strength astounds me sometimes, Elsie Clarkson, but I appreciate the quietness of it tonight."

Elsie felt a bit of a startling reaction to the touch of his hand on her cheek, but ignored it as she gave him a soft smile. "I'll not be back down tonight. I don't think I should," but she never finished as a piercing wail echoed through the house.

"Go. I'll fix the tea and leave it in your room with some sleeping powders."

Elsie nodded as she rushed from the room and up the stairs.

Richard watched her and shook his head then downed his drink. "Dear god," he breathed. "I've fallen in love with her." Sighing, he made his way to the kitchen muttering, "What a dreadful time for such a realization."

EEE

Carson held the baby in his arms, wondering where the boy's nanny was. At a time like this, he should be with the family, not in the nursery soothing a crying child. Though, having the baby snuggle up to him and calm was a comfort from the turmoil that had beset the house in the last hours.

He still felt it nearly impossible to wrap his mind around the loss of Mr. Crawley. Feeling a hand on his arm, he opened his eyes and found his wife staring up at him. "Moira," he whispered so as not to disturb the baby.

"Let me take him, Charles." She smiled sadly when Charles gave her a raised eyebrow. "He and Miss Sybie are the only ones in the house that like me."

Easing the baby into his wife's arms, Charles gently caressed her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Moira."

Moira heard the sadness in his voice and reached up to pat his hand. "Shh. Go on now. The nanny will be here in just a few moments and then I'll come back downstairs to help anyway I can."

Charles nodded and turned to leave the room, but paused when he heard soft humming. Turning back, he watched his wife gently settle baby George in his cradle, patting his back when he whimpered. The lullaby Moira was humming was one he'd not heard in years. It was the last thing he remembered of his mother, the song she'd sang him to sleep with the night she'd died so suddenly. Swallowing down the emotion invoked, he turned and continued on his way.

Moira had heard his hesitation and wondered what had caused it, but couldn't pause to ask him for fear of disturbing the sleeping babe. Satisfied that the baby was settled, she moved to sit in the rocker to wait for the nanny.

Things had never been perfect between she and Charles, but since that day in the village and his confrontation with Mrs. Clarkson, things had been very tense. She'd even taken to sleeping on the settee in their sitting room instead of in their bed. She sighed; she'd not be sleeping on the settee tonight. He would need her because she was removed from the situation. She hadn't been here long enough, and she sure wasn't attached to any of them. Though she had to admit, Mr. Crawley had always been friendly with her when none of the others were.

EEE

Beryl wiped at her eyes as she tried to continue with her work, but it was hopeless. She'd sent Daisy up to her room along with Ivy, and had stayed behind to see to any needs that came up. She missed Elsie. The woman had a way of keeping things together without seeming to be unkind or unfeeling. She was strength and kindness, and in times like this, they needed that.

Looking up at the sound of footsteps, she watched as the butler paused at his pantry door then shook his head and moved down to the housekeeper's sitting room. She was still angry with him for his confrontation with Elsie in the village, but she felt sorry for him now. Everyone knew how he felt about the family, especially Lady Mary, and to have this happen, well, she knew it had to be breaking his heart.

Raising an eyebrow in surprise when Moira came up behind him, she watched as he turned in her arms and held her close. It was a bit of a shock considering the two of them barely spoke to each other these days. Mrs. Carson had been extremely angry with her mister when she'd learned of what happened at the tea shop. She supposed though, that Mrs. Carson was the one person in the whole of the household that could keep steady on during this trial because she wasn't close to the family as the rest of them were.

Beryl nodded her head in grudging admiration of the woman. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

She just wasn't Elsie.

EEE

Elsie heard the soft knock on her bedroom door and moved quietly across the room to answer it. "What is it?"

"I'm needed at the Abbey. His Lordship's motor is waiting for me."

"Lady Mary?" Elsie asked.

"Yes. They can't get her to calm down. Seems she woke up in hysterics."

"Not even Mr. Carson?"

"From what the chauffer told me, Mr. Carson has been with her for the last half hour, but she's only calmed marginally."

Slipping out into the hallway, Elsie pulled the door to. "Why did they wait so bloody long to call for you?"

"They were sure her beloved Carson could get her to calm." Richard gently squeezed Elsie's arm. "I'm sorry."

"No need. Hearing his name doesn't hurt like before." She smiled slightly at him. "Now go. Remember your scarf and stay at the house if they offer. No need for you to go out more than needed in this weather. I'll be fine here. Isobel is resting thanks to your powders."

"I won't stay, Elsie. I'll go and do what I must and then come home." Richard told her adamantly. "I can't be away from the hospital or you for that long. Not in this sort of weather."

Elsie nodded as she patted his arm. "Fine then, just be careful. I," she started, stopping when her voice shook. "Just be careful."

Smiling tenderly at her, Richard caressed her cheek. "I promise, Elsie."

Elsie watched him leave and sighed a small prayer that he be watched over as he went out in the same weather that had taken a life only a few short hours ago. Turning back to her room, she entered and stood watching her friend sleep.

Tears that she'd been holding back finally found their way down her cheeks as she thought of the great pain Isobel was in. The sound of her cries still echoed in Elsie's ears, making her think back to another time, another woman, another child lost.

"Fi?" Elsie asked as she cuddled up to her sister.

"What is it, Els?" Fia asked as she caressed over her sister's tangled mass of curls.

"Why is Da yelling at Mam? Did I do something wrong again?"

"Oh Els, no. You did nothing wrong." Fia cursed her father again for his horrid treatment of her sister. She knew his reason, though she didn't understand how he could blame an innocent such as Elsie who'd had nothing to do with her birth. Their mother had been attacked while their da was on one of his long trips to gamble and whore about, and Els had been the result.

And had borne the brunt of it ever since.

Elsie buried her face against Fia's chest when their mother screamed. "What's happening?" she cried, her little fists gripping Fia's nightdress.

"Shh." Fia held her closer, putting a hand over her ear and holding the small head closer to her chest to try and keep Elsie from hearing anymore of their mother's screams. She was sure she knew what had happened. Their mother was with child, but that didn't seem to deter their father's angry outbursts. They'd been fighting once again over Elsie, though Fia had tried to make Elsie believe it was something else. Hearing the front door slam, she let Elsie go.

"Fia?"

"You stay here. Do you hear me?" Fia commanded sternly, her hands gripping Elsie's shoulders. "You stay in this bed and don't move. Put the pillow over your ears."

"But Fi," Elsie started.

"No. You do as I say."

Elsie nodded. "Yes, Fi."

"That's my Els." Fia softened her voice as she hugged her sister.

"Fia?"

"Yes?" Fia asked as she turned to look at her sister in the dim light from the hall that shone in through their open door.

"Is Mam going to be alright?"

"I don't know, Els. I just don't know."

Elsie came out of her thoughts when she heard moans coming from the bed. Moving to sit on the side, she caressed the hair from Isobel's forehead. "Shh," she hushed. "Sleep. It's what you need."

But Isobel's eyes fluttered open. "Elsie?"

"Yes." Elsie nodded, a soft smile on her lips.

"I," Isobel started then closed her eyes, her tears returning.

Wrapping her arms around her friend when she sat up and leaned against her, Elsie held her and let her cry it all out. The shock had worn off, and now the main thrust of the heartbreak was working its way out. "I'm so sorry, Isobel."

"He was all I had."

"But he wasn't. You've his bairn. He'll need his grandmama to tell him of his father." Elsie smiled when Isobel sat up and looked at her. "You're the only one that knows everything about his father, Isobel. Lady Mary can only tell him what she knows of the years she knew Mr. Crawley. You can tell him about the boy his father was, the things that they share."

"I already see so much of Matthew in George."

"And it'll be a comfort to you."

Isobel settled back against the pillows and sighed, "I'm sorry for the way I treated Richard. I shouldn't have talked to him like that. I know how horrible he must feel." She sniffed and nodded her thanks when Elsie handed her a handkerchief.

"He understands, Isobel. You were in shock. He knows that you never would have said those things otherwise. Grief makes us do and say things that are out of our normal character."

"I'll have to apologize."

"That will have to wait. He's been called out, and you need to rest some more." Elsie told her as she mixed some of the sleeping powders into a bit of water. "Drink this."

Isobel snarled her nose a bit but drank the bitter liquid down. "You slipped some of that into my tea earlier, didn't you."

"I did. Doctor's orders."

Turning onto her side, Isobel settled down, her eyes closing. "I'm in your bed," she murmured.

"You are."

"I don't bite."

Elsie laughed slightly. "I'll be fine. You just rest." She couldn't tell her friend that she'd not be able to sleep until Richard had returned home, until she knew that he was safe and warm. Nor could she tell her that she wouldn't be able to sleep, knowing that the events of the day would bring about her nightmares as they'd stirred up memories best left in the past.