AN/ Massive plagiarism abounds in this brief update. Maybe it's a good time to point out that I don't own ANY of these characters. I just take the clay Mr. Fellowes has given us and try to mold it into something Chelsie-centric that I find entertaining.
After breakfast at the house, Elsie walked into town to buy some food; specifically tea and biscuits. She walked with a special bounce in her step as she paid some visits to her usual shops and called on some acquaintances. Elsie spent the morning answering a thousand genial questions about married life and Hull. She wondered if these same people would be so genial with her come Monday.
Charles remained behind at Downton, having agreed to help Mr. Barrow and Mr. Bates by reviewing the books with which they were both still struggling. Sometimes, he would catch himself humming happily to himself over the ledgers. He was lost in thought when someone knocked on Mr. Barrow's door.
"Mr. Branson." He stood out of instinct.
"Mr. Carson, it's good to see you behind that desk again." Tom commented as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Without preamble, he drove straight to the point. "I wondered if you had observed Mary, that is, Lady Mary yesterday?"
"She suffered a terrible tragedy."
"Of course, but it's six months now and she's no better than she was a week after he died. The only way is for her to find an interest outside of herself and I know that should be in the running of the estate."
"What does His Lordship think?"
"Lord Grantham thinks his duty is to protect Mary and her son by managing everything himself."
"And he won't listen to you on the subject?"
"He sees her as a little woman who shouldn't be troubled by anything so harsh as reality."
The two men exchanged awkward glances at this bit of familiarity. Charles focused on the important thing, helping Mary. "And even were I to agree with you; how could I help?"
"Give her advice; she'd take it from you."
Charles was flattered. "What makes you say that?"
"Because she knows you only want what's best for her."
Charles bowed his head in contemplation. "I shall think on it, Mr. Branson, and do what I can. She is fortunate to have a friend such as you looking out for her."
Tom was touched by this praise from Mr. Carson. Marriage may have mellowed the old butler, but his esteem was still not bestowed lightly. Before Tom could give voice to his feelings, there was a knock on the door.
"Mr. Carson?" Anna's voice called. "The upholsterer is here. You said you could lend a hand. I'm still not entirely sure what it is he's meant to do."
"Of course I can help, Anna." Charles opened the door. "Perhaps you could help me in return."
"If there's anything I can do, you've only to ask." Anna's curiosity was piqued as she saw Mr. Branson leaving the office by the other door.
"I wanted to have a word with Lady Mary. Could you tell me where I might find her when I'm done with the upholsterer?"
"She rarely leaves her room, but for meals." Anna admitted sadly. "You might catch her in the nursery."
"Thank you. I shall look for her after I'm done with the chairs."
-00-
Charles had found Mary in her room, as Anna had suggested. He noticed she was still dressed in solid black. What he wouldn't give to see her in a touch of purple. She'd at least worn grey to his wedding and to the Burns supper. That had fooled him into thinking she was doing better. Obviously, she was not.
"What can I do for you?" She asked primly, seated before her vanity.
"Well, I'm not sure how to start, but before I do, you must know that I would only be as bold as this if I felt it was for you benefit."
"Now you're frightening me." It was an attempt at levity, which he took as a good sign.
"I don't think there is need to be frightened. It's just that I am worried about you. I notice that you still insist on deep mourning and continue to sequester yourself from everyone though so much time has passed."
"If people tell me once more that it's been six months, I may scream."
"Perhaps you should. It would be a far cry better than this catatonic malaise in which you seem stuck." Charles sounded harsher than he intended. "That is to say, your spark is missing."
"My husband is dead."
"You had a spark before you ever met Mr. Matthew; since you were a girl. I understand your grief would overshadow everything for a time, but you are not one to wallow."
Mary glared at him, but did not interrupt.
"I remember when you thought you'd lost Mr. Matthew the first time; before the war. Do you remember?" Mary nodded. "And do you remember what you said to me?"
"I said, 'you know me, Carson, I'm never down for long.' Right before I burst into tears."
"But after that cry, you were true to your word. You weren't down for long. You found the strength to accept the reality of your estrangement. You found other things to occupy your time."
"Being estranged from someone is nothing compared to losing someone to death."
"Which is why everyone has given you so much time to recover, Mary, but now it is time to rejoin the world. I believe it would help you to dedicate yourself to something beyond Master George."
"What do you suggest?" Her cold demeanor did not give him hope that she would take his advice.
"You've always been interested in Downton. Why not involve yourself more in the running of the estate?"
"Because Papa and Tom run the estate. I've been told since I was just a girl that men run the estate, I'm just a resident."
"Mr. Branson tells me he would welcome your insight."
"Papa would not."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes. He wants me to concentrate on getting better."
"What does that entail?"
"I don't exactly know. I've tried to concentrate, but it doesn't seem to help much." She stared vaguely out the window. Charles thought he might be reaching her, but then her mood changed abruptly.
Mary shook her head as if to banish unwanted thoughts. She did not want to rejoin the world. She did not want to feel. When she ventured outside the numbness that surrounded her, all that awaited was pain. At the moment, she let herself feel the only emotion that she trusted herself to feel safely; anger. Mary stood indignantly. "Carson, this is my fault."
"My Lady?" Following her lead, he returned to the formal address they had employed for most of her life.
"I'm afraid I may have encouraged you to feel you have the right to address me in this way."
Charles did not know what to say, so he waited for her to continue.
"His Lordship has made a decision and I find it hard that his brother should criticize him for it."
"N..I never meant…"
"You do not seem to understand the effect Mr. Crawley's death has had on me. As for managing the estate, I wouldn't know where to start." She turned away from him, unable to see the concern in his eyes. He would wear her down if she gave him the chance.
"But Mr. Branson believes you could be very helpful, My Lady, and, as the agent, he should know."
"He's just nervous that His Lordship will retreat to his old ways and abandon all Mr. Matthew's reforms."
"And will he?"
"If he did, wouldn't you approve? And anyway, whether you approve or not, I'm sorry you feel entitled to overstep the mark. I didn't think you would abuse your connection to this family. I thought you could be trusted to know your place."
Charles felt as though he'd been slapped, but his countenance showed nothing. "My Lady."
"We're old friends," Mary tried to show contrition, but she was still not willing to accept his words. "Now we are uncle and niece, and, as I said, I'm sure this lapse is as much my fault as yours, but I suggest we don't mention it again. Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for luncheon."
Moments like this, Charles saw Robert so clearly reflected in his proud and frightened daughter. Best not make the situation worse, Charles thought. He was disappointed that he could not persuade her, but tomorrow was going to be difficult enough without Mary upset with him.
He tucked his tail between his legs and retreated. He would tell Tom that he had tried. Tom's faith that Mary would listen to Charles had made him overly confident in his mission. His failure only served to drive home how much Mary needed guidance. She needed to be reminded of her strength. By the time he gripped the door handle, Charles knew that he could not give up on his stubborn and damaged niece.
He turned back before opening the door. "You're letting yourself be defeated, My Lady. I'm sorry if it's a lapse to say so, but someone has to." Unwilling to face her wrath or hurt her further, he turned and walked crisply out the door.
TBC…
AN/ I'm moving some events around in the timeline to make it work better. I hope it's not too distracting.
OFF TOPIC: I've rewatched most of the Carson scenes from series4 episode1 many times. Though I know I am prejudiced, I am really thinking Jim has a chance at the Emmy ™ this year. There are a wide range of scenes, upstairs and down. He gets great moments with both Mary and Elsie. It just depends if the voters favor big, scene-chewing acting, over minimalist acting.