This story is a sequel to Silence. Thanks to deeedeee and chelsie fan for nudging me in this direction. Thanks to all for your lovely reviews! They keep me going.

Very vague season 5 spoilers.

Unusual: a story about one character telling the other what obscure trait/habit they love about them.

Elsie walked into Charles's office and closed the door. He looked up from his work and smiled. "Good morning, my darling."

"Good morning again, you mean," she replied, approaching his desk.

"Yes, again," he agreed. "I wasn't sure you heard me the first time, since I have to speak so quietly when we're in my room."

"I've come to talk to you on that very subject," Elsie told him. "I want you to come to my room tonight."

He frowned. "I thought you said it was smaller than mine."

"It's quite a lot smaller. It's a closet, really. One of the walls is completely taken up by shelves full of linens."

Charles smirked. "That must be convenient whenever you want to inventory the linen."

Elsie rolled her eyes. "Never mind the inventory, Charles. If you thought about it for just a moment, you'd realize that all those linens muffle a lot of sound."

A smile crept slowly onto his lips. "Then you'll be able to hear me when I... wish you good morning."

Elsie nodded, biting her lip to moderate her answering smile.

"I will come to your room tonight, then," he agreed.

"Very good. I'll see you at luncheon." Elsie walked out of the room with a smile.

#####

Elsie was almost asleep when Charles entered her room few nights later. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming," she said as he climbed into bed and curled himself around her.

"Miss Baxter was up late tonight," he explained. "If I'd known she was going to stay up so late I'd have come upstairs and made a run for it, but I tried to wait it out in my office, thinking she'd go up any minute."

"I wonder what her ladyship has poor Miss Baxter up so late working on."

"I don't know what it was," Charles remarked. "It looked very involved. And of course she was using that blasted machine."

Elsie laughed softly. "I'd have thought you'd be used to the blasted machine by now."

"I'm used to it, but that doesn't mean I like it." He paused and lowered his voice. "Let's not talk about Miss Baxter anymore, my dear."

She smiled. "Of course. What would you like to talk about?"

He yawned in her ear. "About how lovely you are."

"And about how tired you are," she commented.

"I'm very tired," he admitted. "And you're very lovely."

"Mmmm... You're so sweet to me, Charles."

Charles didn't answer; he was fast asleep. In the morning, he was up an hour before the maid's knock. He kissed Elsie and went back to his own room, where he untucked his sheets and prodded his pillow. It would never do for the housemaids to see that his bed hadn't been slept in. He washed his face and dressed himself slowly and was ready to begin his day by the six o'clock knock.

Charles went downstairs to his office and got to work immediately, but it wasn't long before Elsie appeared.

"Did you sleep all right, love?" she asked him.

He smiled. "Like a baby."

"I wish you didn't have to get up so early."

"I'm trying to make the best of it," he told her. "There's always something to be done."

"I suppose." Elsie paused for a moment before she continued, smiling slightly. "I've discovered a new secret of yours, Charles."

"Have you? I'm surprised I have any secrets at all, married to you," he teased. "What is it I've managed to keep from you until now?"

Elsie moved to stand just beside him and spoke quietly. "You sleep with your feet sticking out from under the blankets."

"Is that so?" Charles tried to sound nonchalant.

"You know very well it is," she remarked. "You've done it every night we've shared a bed in London. I'm only surprised I never noticed before."

He frowned. "I don't see that it's any great problem."

Elsie laughed lightly. "Keep calm, my dear. I think it's rather charming."

"Charming?" He was surprised.

"I like your feet just as much as I like the rest of you," she murmured.

Charles cleared his throat. "Mrs. Carson, how are the plans for tomorrow's dinner coming along?"

Elsie smiled and allowed him to redirect the conversation. "Very well. Only one dinner guest is staying the night, so there's no problem there. It's mostly on you and Mrs. Patmore. But do tell me if there's anything I can do to help."

"Thank you. I will."

#####

Mr. Barrow and Miss Baxter stood outside Lady Grantham's bedroom early the next morning.

"Go in and wake her ladyship, Miss Baxter," he told her.

"At half past five?" she replied doubtfully. "Are you quite sure, Mr. Barrow?"

"Yes, I'm sure." He was impatient. "Tell her it's urgent."

Miss Baxter didn't see any way around the under butler's order so she went into her mistress's room and did as she was told. A minute later, a very groggy looking countess stood on the gallery with the two servants.

"What's this all about?" Lady Grantham wanted to know.

"I'm very sorry to disturb your ladyship, but I've discovered something of great concern that I thought you should know about."

"What is it, Barrow?"

"I'm afraid I can only show you, milady," he replied. "If you'll come with me." Mr. Barrow gestured for the countess to follow him and she did. Miss Baxter walked a little ways behind. As they made their way down the gallery and up the stairs, he spoke softly to Lady Grantham. "Mr. Carson and I had agreed to meet at a quarter past five this morning to discuss tonight's dinner. He hadn't arrived by half past five, so I went to check on him. He is normally quite punctual, so I was concerned that he might be ill. When I reached his room, he wasn't there and I could see his bed hadn't been slept in."

Lady Grantham was alarmed. "Carson's gone missing? Shouldn't we summon the police?"

"That won't be necessary, your ladyship," Mr. Barrow told her. "If you'll wait just a few moments, you'll see for yourself that he's perfectly safe." They had reached the servants' quarters at the top of the house and Mr. Barrow, the countess, and her lady's maid crept quietly down the corridor. "I thought Mrs. Carson might know what had happened to Mr. Carson, so I went to her room."

"Just tell me what's going on, Barrow," Lady Grantham urged him, her patience waning.

They stood just outside the door to a linen closet. Mr. Barrow paused a few seconds for dramatic effect before he pushed the door open quickly and switched on the light. The closet held a small bed, in which Mr. and Mrs. Carson slept peacefully - that is, until the light was switched on. They were both startled awake; Mrs. Carson might have fallen out of bed if her husband hadn't caught her and held her, her back against his chest. Before either of them could scramble to their feet to properly address Lady Grantham, the countess quickly closed the door and turned on the under butler.

"Am I to understand, Barrow, that you woke me at half past five in the morning to show me a married couple sleeping in the same bed?" she asked him.

Mr. Barrow was caught on the back foot; he hadn't expected her indifference to what he had just shown her. "Well, milady, I… that is, his lordship decided that a few weeks in London did not make it worth the trouble to change the sleeping arrangements for the staff. Mr. and Mrs. Carson were to remain in their own rooms, separately."

Lady Grantham raised a hand to her forehead and gave a long-suffering sigh. "I see," she answered. "Well, Barrow, as far as that goes, you may leave his lordship to me. But why on earth has Mrs. Carson been sleeping in a linen closet?"

Mr. Barrow cleared his throat. "I-I don't know, milady."

The countess sighed again and waved the under butler away. "You're dismissed, Barrow. Go back to whatever you should be doing right now. I'll find my own way from here." He could do nothing but obey, heading down to the servants' hall alone. "Baxter? Are you here?" Lady Grantham called softly in the dark corridor.

"I'm here, milady." Miss Baxter appeared at her mistress's side. "How can I help?"

"Walk with me back to my room. I have some instructions that I need you to pass along to Carson. Since I've been awakened at this hour, I'll be ringing for my breakfast later than usual, so you'll have time to take care of this for me."

"Very well, milady. It's this way back to your room." The two women descended the stairs together.

#####

That afternoon, Elsie looked up from her desk when she heard a knock. Mr. Barrow peeked around the door of her office. "You wanted to see me, Mrs. Carson?"

"I did, Mr. Barrow. I'd like to thank you for what you did." She smiled pleasantly.

He was a little confused and his expression showed it. "What I did?"

"Don't be modest, Mr. Barrow. You deserve to take credit for your help."

"My help?" The under butler was still not sure what the housekeeper was referring to.

"Yes, Mr. Carson and I greatly appreciate your advocating for us with her ladyship."

"Advocating?"

"She has generously allowed us to move a larger bed into Mr. Carson's room so that we may share a room. If it weren't for you, she never would have known that we had been separated, and that I was sleeping in a linen closet." Elsie gave him a sweet smile. "We really are indebted to you, Mr. Barrow. I only hope we will find some way to... repay you for your... generosity."

"Well, I…"

"But don't let me keep you," she interrupted. "I'm sure you're just as busy as I am. Thank you, Mr. Barrow." Elsie smiled and turned back to her work. Mr. Barrow stood for a few seconds in the doorway before he departed. Once he was gone, Charles slipped into her office and closed the door behind him.

"Elsie, that was brilliant," he told her, chuckling.

She turned away from her desk again. "You were listening, then?"

"I was," he admitted. "And I think your performance will be far more effective than any telling off I could have given Mr. Barrow."

"I hope so," Elsie commented darkly. "He's lucky it turned out so well."

"There is one thing I regret," Charles told her.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him with concern. "And what's that?"

"Well, when Mr. Barrow opened the door and turned on the light, her ladyship saw us."

"Yes," Elsie agreed. "She saw us in our pajamas, but nothing was amiss. We were sleeping in a perfectly respectable manner."

"I know, but…" Charles trailed off.

"But what?" she wanted to know.

"But my feet were sticking out from under the blanket," he explained. "Her ladyship saw my feet uncovered. It was all terribly undignified."

Elsie could not help laughing, though she rose from her seat and took her husband's hand to comfort him. "I don't think it upset her, Charles."

"Maybe not, but-"

"And I'm quite sure you look more dignified than anyone else in England could possibly look when they were caught by a countess with their feet sticking out from under their blankets."

Charles smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Flatterer."

Elsie kissed his hand and twinkled back. "I do my best."

The end.

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