"You know he'll never make the first move!" said Beryl over a late night glass of port. "If you don't want to be sat in that parlor of yours, discussing Lady Mary & Mr. George, on Valentine's Day, you'll have to take that bull-headed butler by the horns!" Elsie smiled as she remembered their fit of giggles but Beryl was right. If ever he was to be shifted off his davit of propriety, it would fall to her. Leaving him busy with the staff Valentines, she put her plan into motion. What happens next?
Of course Beryl was right when she said that he would never make the first move. Not after all these years - she had been a bit shocked to hear Beryls say it - out loud! - but then again, the cook really liked to call a spade a spade. Plus she was as much a friend to Charles as she was to Elsie and all in all... and it got her to thinking. That maybe she should speak up, be the first one to admit to things.
She didn't much mind taking responsibility, normally. After all that was her job. What she did all day, every day, including Sundays. This was different though. This would be a step in a direction she had not taken in years. Decades. She was only being truthful with herself. Left on the shelf - but her own woman. She had built her life on the service to others and she was good at it.
One of the best.
He was one of the best. He used to receive offers from other houses every other month. Of course he was getting on a bit. Like she was. She had hoped that maybe age would weaken his resolve and there were times she thought she had seen him crack the slightest bit.
Then there had been the matter of him trying to keep from her he knew about her... scare. He was a terrible liar, which was endearing to her. He was good at keeping information to himself and he was good at keeping a straight face in the company of them upstairs, but he had no chance when he faced her. Eye to eye.
That was why she was worried about taking that step. It would be the final bridge to gap and if they did, they would have to face an array of problems and emotions she wasn't sure she would be able to deal with.
Maybe it was better if she didn't say anything. Didn't do anything.
She'd better just go to her parlour. Work on the linen rota. Order soap powders from London. Emerge herself in her work. Or maybe write to Ethel to see how she was getting on.
She sighed.
Another Valentine's Day would come and go with nothing to show for it.
She twisted the cap of her pen, opened the ledger and started her work.
A/N: Thank you for reading. I hope you will take the time to review!
