December 3rd , Kingston upon Hull,
Dearest Elsie,
I have only time for a quick note today. Between Nathan and Fredrick, my time is quite filled, but my day is never complete if I have not spoken to you, my Love, even when we are separated. I am pleased to hear wedding preparations are going well. With the three Crawley matrons at the helm it is certainly going to be thoroughly planned. I shall be praying for you.
If you do not believe there is enough room inside the Dowager House, you could perhaps use one of the garden party awnings to cover an overflow area in the garden. A few small braziers would keep guests warm. I believe Mr. Samuels at the Grantham Arms has some you could borrow. I am sure whatever you and the ladies devise will be lovely.
Another plan would be to keep the guest list small, though I imagine that is not an option. I've no doubt most of the village already considers themselves invited and it would be rude to turn them away.
You must. of course, use my personal wine stock for the Wedding Breakfast. I've quite a bit laid by and will never be able to drink it all myself. The best wines are in the case marked 'Christmas'. If you can avoid using that case, it would probably be best, otherwise there will be nothing for the Servant's Ball this year. Uncle Timothy has insisted on supplementing the refreshments. He is sending a shipment of wine and whiskey to the Dowager House on Monday, if you would be good enough to let them know to expect it.
Though you and Mrs. Patmore obviously enjoyed the topic, you may inform her that I will NOT be wearing a kilt. I am thankful that one of us is Scottish. I am most thankful that it is not me. I fear if you saw my knees before the wedding, you might change your mind.
Fredrick is helping me arrange for a mourning coat, with the top hat and all the trimmings for both Nathan and myself. He says the hat makes me look far too tall and it hurts his neck to look up at me. Apparently, I get my height from my mother's side of the family tree.
I must admit I was surprised when you asked my advice regarding who should give you away. I believe the correct answer to that question is, choose whomever you like, for I will only see you. But that would be a deflection and you asked for an opinion, therefore, I believe Mr. Bates would be the best choice, as I think Mr. Branson very likely to cry. But I must admit, in all honesty, when I picture our wedding day, all I see is you walking down the aisle. An independent woman such as yourself does not need to be given away, only gratefully accepted and cherished. However you choose to navigate the aisle, come next Monday, there will be a man at the altar waiting to do exactly that.
Always and ever yours,
Charles
P.S. I hope you understand that man will not be Mr. Travis.
Nine more days!
CE—
They were winding down their weekly planning meeting. "Mrs. Hughes, I have noticed the price of running the kitchens has gone up considerably in the last week or so. Is there something I should know? I thought the shortages were over." Cora still walked lightly around the housekeeper on subjects approaching Mr. Carson, but the discrepancies were too great to ignore. It looked like the kitchen's budget had been impacted by almost ten percent.
"Well, that would be another difference between Mr. Carson and Mr. Barrow, m'lady." Mrs. Hughes tried to remain respectful by reminding herself that Lady Grantham was on their side.
"Have the vendors raised their prices in protest of Mr. Carson's absence? Honestly, Mrs. Hughes, I've told you. We shall win his Lordship over." Was the whole world against Robert then? She had every faith that he would come to his senses before the time ran out.
"It isn't that. The difference you are seeing is because Mr. Carson treated the loyalty gratuities offered by the vendors as discounts for the household. Mr. Barrow ascribes to the more common practice that the allocation of these gratuities is at the discretion of the butler."
One guess where the money goes. Elsie thought bitterly.
"The vendors offer kickbacks to the butler? This is common, you say?" Had Cora known this and forgotten? She knew that it was becoming the fashion to tip the household staff of a home if you stayed overnight. It was a vulgar fashion, but one dictated by the difficult times.
"Yes, my Lady, it's considered one of the benefits for the butler but Mr. Carson found it to be distasteful, so the money is returned to the household budget. Sometimes, if the amount is greater than 10%, Mr. Carson will put the excess in a sort of discretionary fund with other gratuities. When we have larger events, he uses this money to reward the staff for the extra work they've done."
"Mr. Carson keeps none of this money for himself?" As though Cora didn't already know the answer to that question. She apparently just enjoyed torturing herself.
"He feels he is adequately compensated, My Lady. Of course, he does take his one bottle of wine per case. That is the more traditional butler's prerogative. Most of the wine ends up as a gift for one of the other staff, or is brought out for the Servant's Ball. For example, Mrs. Patmore always gets a sherry on her birthday and after a particularly spectacular dinner party."
"I had no idea." As if she needed another reminder of how ungrateful her spoiled husband was being.
"No, I imagine not." Her cold reply hung acidly in the air. Cora thought it was best to wrap things up quickly. Mrs. Hughes had been very accommodating, all things considered and Cora was not willing to jeopardize the continuation of that benevolence.
"One last thing, Mrs. Hughes; please remember that the final two candidates for my Lady's maid will be coming tomorrow. I would appreciate your input. Could you please look at their references and join me for the interviews?"
"Of course, My Lady. I'd be happy to. It will be good to get that taken care of before you go to London." Thankful the meeting was over she closed her notebook and pushed back her chair.
Cora couldn't stop herself from just asking what she'd wanted to ask all meeting. "And have you heard from Mr. Carson recently? Is he well?" When is he coming back? Is he definitely coming back?
"He writes very often, my lady. He is grateful for all the work that is being done for our wedding. He is well, though his uncle's health is still poor. He isn't sure how much longer he'll need to stay." It was the half lie she and Charles had agreed upon. His uncle was not well, but his only ailment was age, so he was unlikely to improve. Charles would not return until the Sunday next for the reading of the final banns or until his lordship specifically asked for him with the expressed intent to apologize.
If all went according to plan, she and Charles would be married one week from today. Elsie took a deep breath to calm herself. There was much to do before then. It was perhaps best that Charles was not here to distract her in the evenings, though his absence was a distraction during the days.
CE—
Cora had to admit that Mr. Barrow was not a great butler; good, but not great. He had all the looks and the manners, but none of the intangibles that made a great butler. If they had been entertaining more, Thomas' shortcomings might have been less glaring. But it was the intimate family dinner where Carson was most missed. He had been their touchstone; their mediator. If there was a disagreement, Carson could be relied upon to have a simple and honest judgment, usually of three words or less. Thomas on the other hand was as slippery as an eel. He would answer their direct questions, but his every response seemed to include an explanation or an excuse and when he was done, no one knew which side he was on. One look at Carson often told you his opinion.
Carson had a way of seeing to the heart of an issue; making it black and white, even if it did not lend itself to simplification. He wasn't always right, in fact he was often wrong, devoted to antiquated notions, but his conviction was unwavering and reassuring in an odd way.
And sometimes, especially when the Dowager Countess was in attendance, he would produce an unexpectedly droll response, which gave them fleeting glimpses of the man beneath the veneer. Not that his words were always intended to be humorous.
Sincerity! That's the word! Cora finally defined it one evening after dinner as she listened to another oily answer from Mr. Barrow. Carson was sincere. Thomas was devious. It was as though the family was used to eating with a St. Bernard beside the table and had traded it in for a wolf. Great, now she was thinking of Carson as a dog.
Cora had finally been forced to give up on the idea of opening Grantham House and not just because of Carson's wedding. Mr. Barrow had clashed so mightily with the staff there that she'd had to squash a mutiny. Mrs. Collins and Mrs. Whitman knew their business. Mr. Carson had always trusted them to deliver the highest standards of service and to ask him if they needed anything from him. He had been known to scold on occasion, but it was usually called for.
Unfortunately, Mr. Barrow rather enjoyed bossing people around, even those who did not need his instruction. Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore were keeping him honest at Downton, so he tried especially to establish his dominance at Grantham House. One phone call between Mr. Barrow and the Grantham House Housekeeper had resulted in an offer of resignation from Mrs. Collins.
Cora ultimately decided it would be easier to visit Rosamund for a week just before Christmas just to take Sybbie to the toy stores and a quick Panto. Robert returned from London when the original scheme had failed. Edith and Rose were mildly civil to him, giving him the benefit of the doubt and letting Cora work on winning him over. But Mary was being a nightmare, as only Mary could be. She was no longer avoiding her father, but openly taunting him. Cora could not make Mary see that she was hurting Carson's cause by punishing her father. Mary didn't see how things could get any worse, so she was merciless on her father.
Just when Cora thought she'd convinced Robert to apologize to Carson, Mary would come huffing into dinner and undo all Cora's gentle progress with one well timed jibe.
Cora had finally had enough. Her time was running out. She could not play the passive peacemaker any longer. Action was required. Mary must be made silent and Robert must be made to see reason. The final Banns would be read this Sunday. It was time for Mr. Carson's home to be ready to receive him.
A/N Short one today. The pacing for the next few chapters may be odd. A certain event approaches. Will everyone be there?
Reviews are my caffeine, the more I have, the quicker the writing goes.
