If the welcome tea at Crawley House was any indication, the Wedding Breakfast at the Dowager House was going to be quite a trial for Mr. Carson. He refused to sit at first, hovering about and eyeing everyone's tea cup. He looked like he wished he were holding a pot with which to serve.
He made sure to thank Lady Mary for arranging to bring May to Downton for the wedding. After that, Carson did not know what to do with himself. It was simply impossible for him to relax. There was absolutely no class distinction being observed. Lady Violet was sitting next to Anna and chatting across Mrs. Crawley to May and Elsie. Cora, Fredrick, John, Suzanne and Mary were standing around the tea trolley talking like old friends. He felt as though he'd been dropped in a desert with no visible roads or landmarks, no map and no compass. He needed boundaries and rules to guide him.
Elsie finally was able break away from the conversation to whisper to him. "Dear, please sit down. You are making everyone uncomfortable."
"Turnabout is fair play." Was all he could say through his dry mouth. But he did manage to find a chair near Nathan, Tom and Rose where his silent bulk was less of a distraction.
Elsie was having too much fun to worry about his neuroses today. She was back home. She was surrounded by everyone she loved best. She would be married in two days to the beautiful, daft man pouting in the corner. There could not possibly be anything to disturb this day.
And then Lady Edith arrived from London.
She greeted her family and was introduced to all the new comers. Edith gave a quick shake of her head when asked about Lord Grantham. "No joy, I am afraid. And Aunt Rosamund has been working on him nonstop since he arrived. I think she is ready to give up as well. She is talking about coming up Monday for the wedding."
Edith had brought her shopping bags into the parlor with her and was digging around in them, looking for something, which she finally located. "I have the 'Thank You' notes you requested, Mrs. Hughes. Shall I put them with the gifts when I go by the Dowager House?"
"Yes, thank you, My Lady."
Charles stirred from his hibernation at this exchange. "Gifts? Surely we are not accepting gifts, Mrs. Hughes." What would they do with them? What could they possibly need?
"People have been told expressly not to send or bring any gifts, Mr. Carson, but there are some people who simply cannot be helped. Most of it is wine or food for tomorrow. Lady Edith has been very helpful in keeping track of everything."
"Which reminds me. There was a case of champagne from Dame Tamara Stojaspal. Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Carson, you never told us you knew Dame Tamara."
"I don't even know who that is." Elsie said, confused.
"Well, the card said 'To my very dear friend.'" Edith helpfully added and looked at Charles who was trying to melt out of existence. This was not something he wished to discuss at the present time; in the present company.
"Who?" The Dowager Countess instinctively wanted in on this conversation. There was tension in the air and she could not help herself.
"Dame Tamara Stojaspal, a famous soprano. I believe she simply goes by Dame Tamara." Edith expounded.
"I shouldn't wonder, with a name like Stodgepile."
"Stojaspal, My Lady. Her husband was Czech, from Bohemia. She was born in Britain, but I believe her family has roots in Bohemia." Stop talking, the voice in his head told him.
"Why does that name sound familiar?" Isobel asked. "I am sure I have heard of her and I do not follow the opera at all."
The room was looking at Mr. Carson expectantly. He was disappointed to find that he was as far from the door as it was possible to be. He had no means of escape. He glowered at Lady Edith. She did look honestly contrite, but he knew the damage was done.
"You might have heard her name in conjunction with a minor scandal near the end of the war. She had just been awarded Dame Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire by King George." Carson explained, wondering how to word it exactly. "Throughout the war, she traveled to the trenches to entertain the officers. On this particular occasion, she distributed a series of pictures of herself to the French and English enlisted soldiers to boost morale."
"I remember now," Isobel enthused but then her brow knitted with consternation. "If I am remembering correctly they were…" Oh, how she wished she had not brought it up, "…nude pictures."
"I'm sure that boosted morale, alright." Nathan commented. Suzanne hit him lightly on the back of the head as she stood behind his chair.
"But wasn't she a little old to pose in the nude?" Mary asked. She did follow the opera world and had actually seen Dame Tamara during her last season in London, before the war. She had a lovely, mature soprano voice and, while still very beautiful, must have been at least sixty at the time.
"I understood they were paintings based on some photos from her youth. She always was an exhibitionist." Charles admitted. Elsie was not looking at him. "Though I had heard that they were seminude, whatever that means." You are not helping matters, Charles, he admonished himself.
"Well, that makes it all better." Lady Violet was fanning herself and trying not to look scandalized. She had just wanted people to be mildly embarrassed, she had not asked for this. This kind of vulgar conversation was what you get for mixing the classes. She should have known better. And she had been having such a good time. Still, she could not help asking, "And how exactly do you know this woman, Mr. Carson?"
Most of the people in the room already knew he had spent time on the stage, but Carson had never spoken of it so openly in front of so many people. He bit the bullet. "I was friends with Tamara and her husband, Anton, during my time with the Vaudeville troupe in the late seventies; just before I returned to Downton as second footman, My Lady."
Tom, Mary, Edith and Isobel were the only people present who had not been aware of Carson's past. Looking around, they quickly realized that this information was not an equal surprise to everyone. Robert had told Cora about their butler's past years ago. Elsie had expressly written May a letter the day she'd found out about his past from Mrs. Pearson, the departing housekeeper.
"She and her husband left the troupe a little after I did to begin a career in legitimate opera."
"So, you knew her before she was a respectable performer who distributed nude pictures of herself?" Edith confirmed. Sensing the tension, she tried for levity. "Goodness, what was her act like before?" No one was laughing. Mary glared at Edith. What a thing to make the man admit two days before his wedding.
Elsie had heard enough. "Anna, I've just remembered something I need to do at Downton before tomorrow, perhaps we should head back now. Thank you for everything, Mrs. Crawley. May, I'd love to show you Downton…" She didn't even finish her sentence but bolted out the door with Anna and May in her wake.
Charles rose to go with them. "I should come as well…"
"Best not, Mr. Carson." John said. "We've set you up at the Grantham Arms for the next few days. Downton will have to do without you for a while yet."
"But, Mrs. Hughes…"
"Needs a little space just now, Mr. Carson."
The uncomfortable silence that followed Mrs. Hughes' exit swallowed them all. Finally, Charles rose to leave. "Thank you, for a thoughtful welcome home, all of you. I think we should go check into the Grantham Arms and unpack. It has been an eventful day."
Edith followed him into the hallway as he gathered his coat and bag. "Mr. Carson, I am so sorry, I did not mean to start anything."
"Sometimes, Lady Edith, I do not believe you properly consider the consequences before you act." It was the kindest thing he could bring himself to say at the moment.
She thought of Michael. "No, Mr. Carson, sometimes I do not."
CE—
It did not take Charles very long to unpack in the little room he and Fredrick were to share for the next two nights. Suzanne and Nathan were settling in across the hall.
"I am going to go for a walk, Fredrick. Please do not wait dinner for me. I can grab something whenever I get back."
"She'll get over it, Charles." Fredrick tried to comfort him. "She was probably just embarrassed that she didn't know."
"I'm sure she was. But have you ever angered a Scot, Fredrick?"
"Yes."
"And how did that work out for you?"
"Not well." Fredrick admitted. "But he wasn't in love with me." Fredrick risked a smile here.
Charles smiled back, despite himself. "Well, I suppose I do have that in my favor. I'll be back after I've reminded her of that little fact."
CE—
Charles' walk to Downton was grey and foggy but his confidence grew with every step. Elsie was a sensible woman. He did not blame her for walking out of Crawley House, but he had not done anything wrong and she would see that.
It seemed odd to ring at the back door, but he felt that he must. Alfred opened the door to him with a shocked expression, but recovered admirably.
"Will you please ask Mrs. Hughes to meet me in the garden, Alfred?"
"Certainly, Mr. Carson." He turned to go, but paused and turned back. "And I would like to say welcome back, Mr. Carson. You have been greatly missed."
"Thank you, Alfred." Mr. Carson smiled at the talk young man kindly. "Thank you for looking after Downton in my absence."
After Alfred left, Charles walked slowly to the garden. The path was not visible from the house and he waited here for Elsie. The quick steps he heard on the gravel were like hers, but they were not, lacking the metronome like regularity of her gait. Turning, Charles found himself face to face with May.
"I didn't think it was going to be as easy as simply asking to see her." Charles admitted. "How is she?"
"Still embarrassed, Mr. Carson."
"I didn't mean for her to be embarrassed. I had not expected Dame Tamara to hear about the wedding, let alone to send a gift. I am not a young man and there are many things about me I have not thought to tell her of."
"She knows that. It's only…" May looked at him, unsure of how much he really knew about Elsie's past. "Do you know much about our parents, Mr. Carson?"
Charles Carson understood that Maisie McAvoy was a woman to whom one speaks frankly. "I only know that there are some people who should not partake in strong drink and your father was one of those people."
She nodded, appreciating his candor. "He was never violent. Quite the opposite; drinking made him very amorous, especially with the local barmaids. The worst part of it for Elsie was how his behavior embarrassed our mother. He was indiscreet and we girls could never protect her from the village gossip."
"That sounds like the Elsie I know." It explained a lot about how important appearances were to her and how she tried to protect people. "But I cannot equate his behavior to my own. Surely she is not going to hold the actions of a woman I knew forty years ago against me."
"She was made to feel foolish in front of people whose regard is important to her. She is too hurt to think very logically at this moment."
Sometimes Elsie was so strong and stoic, Charles forgot that she had as delicate an ego as anyone. He nodded, understanding what May was saying. "And you've been sent out to yell at me for a bit?"
"Just for a bit. But I think we all know it is a foregone conclusion that she will forgive you. After all, she's been in love with you for years, if her letters are any indication."
"If I may say so, Mrs. McAvoy, you are not doing a very good job of chastising me," Charles teased her.
"If you must know, I don't feel much like I have any right to do so, Charles." She answered him seriously. "Do you know why I was not going to make the wedding?"
"I understood that your husband needed looking after." Elsie had been vague about the details.
"Yes, he walked off a curb and broke his leg. Your Lady Mary was kind enough to arrange for a local family to look after him while I am gone so at least he won't starve." May looked back towards the beautiful house where her sister had lived with this man for twenty-five years. Only her deep love for her sister kept her jealousy from getting the better of her. "I am afraid that I made the same mistake my mother did, marrying a man who…." Her voice trailed off. Why was she telling him this?
"You needn't explain anything to me, May." He was unsure of what was needed from him. This was not the conversation he had been expecting. "You know, if you would like to stay in Downton for a while…"
"Elsie has offered many times over the years, but Colin has never been as bad as our father. He's practically tame now and he's never hurt anyone but himself."
Charles wasn't sure he believed that, but he knew better than to argue with her. He waited in the dim winter light for her to say what she needed to say.
"I just wanted you to understand a little better where Elsie's reaction was coming from. It has almost nothing to do with you, but she was hurt all the same."
"I do understand better now, thank you, May." They stood in silence for a few more moments.
"Are you now properly humbled, Charles?" she smiled ironically at him. "Shall I send Elsie out to you now?"
"I would be very grateful if you would. And I will make sure to tell her how horribly you've abused me."
"Thank you, Charles." She walked back towards the house, her feet crunching along the gravel path. Her steps were so like her sister's and so unlike.
A/N- Sorry for the little angst, but they were getting too complacent.
As always, reviews are lovely. Tamara is named for one of my first and most consistent reviewers, Tammy333. Thank you for your continued encouragement. Tamara may show up later, or get her own story. Not sure yet. Right now, I'm focusing on getting these two to the altar.