"Mr. Levinson and Lord Grantham settled the dowry the next evening over port and cigars. They emerged from the dining room laughing, with their arms over each others' shoulders. The slight tension that had existed between the two families evaporated in an instant," Charles smiled as he related this part of the story. "Believe it or not, after that Mr. Levinson and Lord Grantham got on like a house on fire. They were different in many ways, but they enjoyed debating politics and talking about business. Lord Grantham showed Mr. Levinson the estate ledgers and accepted his advice on some matters."

"I'm glad they got on so well, but it does surprise me. Was there never any mention of Mr. Levinson's…ethnicity?" Elsie had to ask. Recent events with Lord Sinderby made her wonder at the lack of drama over Mr. Levinson's Jewish heritage.

"It was discussed when Mr. Robert first mentioned Miss Levinson to his parents. Mr. Robert quickly explained that Mr. Levinson's children weren't considered Jewish. In fact, Mrs. Levinson and her children were devoutly Protestant. This appeased Lady Grantham's misgivings. I don't think Lord Grantham ever gave it a second thought; his only concern was for the money."

"So everyone finally gave their blessing to the marriage," Elsie smiled. "And the families got on famously after that?"

"Not exactly. Lady Grantham and Mrs. Levinson continued to have their run-ins, but they were relatively tame. There was only one time when a fight nearly boiled over to the point of rudeness. It didn't, but it was a quite a row."

"Oh? What was it they were fighting over?"

Charles blushed and bowed his head before admitting, "Me."

-00-

It was two nights before the grand event. The two families had just enjoyed a quiet meal and were sipping their apres dinner drinks. Young Mr. Levinson had been dismissed for the evening and had eagerly made his escape upstairs. The happy couple were chatting closely in the most private corner of the room. Mr. Levinson and Lord Grantham had just come through after finishing their cigars. Lady Grantham and Mrs. Levinson were in the middle of a conversation during which they both strained to remain civil.

"Of course you will be glad to return to New York," Lady Grantham said as amiably as she could.

"I'll be glad to be able to speak my mind again," Mrs. Levinson agreed, though the answer displeased Lady Grantham. "I'm tired of being on my best behavior."

Lady Grantham arched an eyebrow at this information as if to say, 'This is your best behavior? I'd hate to see your worst.' She looked about for an ally and caught Charles' sympathetic eye as he returned from taking the gentlemen their drinks.

Two solid months of making polite conversation with this opinionated American was taking its toll on Her Ladyship's sanity. It was a popular topic amongst the staff, engendering much debate and more than a little wagering. Mr. Brooks and Mrs. Curtis discouraged such activity, but every evening, Charles found himself questioned by curious and invested parties. Charles did not participate in the wagering himself, but he was silently rooting for Her Ladyship to be able to maintain her composure until the Levinsons left for America.

"There are some things I shall miss about England, of course," Mrs. Levinson conceded. "My dear Cora being chief among them."

"Of course," Lady Grantham nodded.

"And I must compliment your staff, Lady Violet. I can't find a butler in all of New York who meets my standards and here you have Mr. Brooks as well as Charles," Mrs. Levinson lamented. "It's rather selfish of you."

"Selfish?" Lady Grantham demanded. There was a dangerous look on Her Ladyship's face. Charles sincerely hoped that he would not be drawn into the line of fire.

"To keep someone like Charles as a first footman when he should by all rights be a butler by now," Mrs. Levinson accused. Lady Grantham bristled at the idea, as did Charles himself.

"Butlers of great houses are seldom so young as Charles," Lady Violet informed her guest. "By the time Brooks is ready to retire, Charles will be properly trained and seasoned to take his place. Though we all hope that will be many years hence." Lady Grantham acknowledged the aged butler who was presently topping off her sherry.

"In America, we value people for their skills, not just their age. We don't make people wait unnecessarily for their desired positions to come vacant," Mrs. Levinson argued. "Charles could be butler in even the finest home in New York today if he wished it."

"I don't doubt it," Lady Grantham said proudly.

"And yet, you keep him here, waiting at Brooks' pleasure," Mrs. Levinson pointed out. "That hardly seems fair to Charles."

"We don't keep him here," Lady Grantham barked, quite offended now. "None of our servants are forced to stay, Mrs. Levinson. Charles is free to leave at any time if he is not satisfied to wait for the honor of serving as Downton's butler."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," Mrs. Levinson smiled as she turned her face to Charles. "Well?"

"Madam?" Charles responded in shock.

"What do you say to a change of scenery, Charles? We'll pay you three times what you earn here," Mrs. Levinson offered casually.

"Have you been courting my footman?" Lady Grantham demanded. "Of all the…Charles, I am heartily disappointed in you."

"I assure you, this is the first I am hearing of this, Milady," Charles rushed to defend himself.

The gentlemen had been silent thus far, but Mr. Levinson saw the need to intervene. "Indeed, Lady Violet, this is a recent notion of my wife's. We've not approached Charles, nor were we planning to." He shot a warning look at this wife. Usually, this was sufficient to calm her, but Mrs. Levinson had a head of steam and a snoot full of whisky. She was not about to back down.

"We need something to take back with us to remind our neighbors that our daughter is an English lady and will someday be Countess of Grantham," Mrs. Levinson insisted.

"The position of Countess of Grantham is currently occupied," Lady Violet said angrily, drawing herself up tall to sit imperially. "And will be for some time."

"I'm sure Mrs. Levinson did not mean to imply otherwise, my dear," Lord Grantham tried to quiet his wife but he was no more successful than his American counterpart.

"If you are looking for a souvenir of Britain to stand in your foyer, might I suggest a clock?"

Charles fought hard to keep his countenance stoic as he nodded to Her Ladyship, grateful that she was acting as his champion.

"In fact," Lady Grantham continued, her voice gathering strength and sarcasm as she went. "There is a local artisan who still makes longcase clocks. He studied under George Littlewort. You can get them with the Big Ben Chimes if you like. I can provide you with his name if you wish. I'm sure Brooks has it some…"

"Mama," Mr. Robert interrupted his mother's diatribe. "Please, I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding."

The argument had reached a volume which had disturbed the young lovers. Mr. Robert wanted desperately to broker peace between his mother and his future mother-in-law.

"I'm sure they never intended to steal Charles away from us; as if they could," Robert rationalized.

Lady Violet's shoulders relaxed and she smiled magnanimously at a deflated Mrs. Levinson.

"No one is in a hurry for any changes of guard at Downton; upstairs or down," the young heir insisted. "Are they, Charles?"

"Certainly not, sir. I've still much to learn from Mr. Brooks about being a butler worthy of Downton."

"As for Cora and myself, for now, we'd rather focus on building our own little family. The title I look most forward to gaining is that of husband." This earned the Viscount a beatific smile of admiration from his fiancé.

With harmony thus restored, all parties agreed it was best to turn in for the night. Lady Rosamund and Mr. Marmaduke were due from London the next day and the wedding was the day following. The outspoken matriarchs managed to coexist relatively graciously for the remainder of Mrs. Levinson's stay, but it was a relief in many quarters when the wedding was over and Downton was once more the the exclusive domain of the Crawley family.

-00-

"If Mrs. Levinson had known anything about you, she would have known you'd never leave Downton," Elsie scoffed. "I hadn't known you a week before I saw it."

"She's not as observant as you and she didn't know anything about me," Charles confirmed. "Mr. Levinson knew better. He apologized that evening and told me he'd been trying to dissuade her for over a week."

"Did they go home with a clock?" Elsie asked with an impish grin.

"No, they bought some overlarge Pre-Raphaelite painting on their way back through London. Lady Cora received a letter from her brother describing it; he hated the thing."

Elsie chuckled. There seemed to be very little about England that Mr. Harold Levinson had enjoyed. No wonder it had taken him twenty odd years to return. He'd only returned then because he'd been forced to retreat from his own country by scandal.

"The wedding event was a success, I gather?"

"Very much so," Charles beamed. "The big day was a triumph for the entire village; the county even. The streets of Downton were filled with well-wishers for half a mile in every direction from the church. Young lads stood on the wall of what would soon be the hospital garden for a glimpse of the bride. Mothers held their babies up as the bridal carriage passed in hopes they'd remember the day.

"It was a celebration the likes of which the county has never seen again. In addition to the wedding breakfast at Downton for honored guests, the estate paid the bill at both the Grantham Arms and the Dog and Duck for the next three nights. Downton was the center of the universe for four glorious days. The green was overrun with farmers sleeping it off only to wake up and start again. One of our under gardeners disappeared and was found in Ripon a week later dressed like a groom in livery from another house and tied to a sheep wearing a veil."

"Goodness!" Elsie laughed. "Was there a first footman amongst the revelers?"

Charles gave her a sidelong glance and a cheeky grin. "I enjoyed my share of the libations, but I was also working, so it was a small share."

"You were able to steer clear of the livestock?"

"Well clear. That poor lad never lived down his humiliation," Charles said, shaking his head. "He wasn't sacked, but he found a new place of employment a few months later. It was probably for the best."

"Did the Levinsons stay long after the wedding?"

"No, Mr. Levinson had to return due to business obligations. They stayed for the London reception a week after the wedding, when Mr. Robert and Miss Levinson, that is Lady Cora, returned from their brief wedding trip."

"Where had they gone?"

"Mr. Robert had offered the south of France, but it was February, so that was nixed. Miss Levinson, that is Lady Cora, wanted to see a bit of England. They took a quick jaunt to visit Oxford, Stratford-upon-Avon and Bath. The following summer, they took a longer trip up to Scotland."

"Scotland? Though I approve, it's hardly the normal honeymoon destination," Elsie observed.

"You know how much His Lordship has always liked Scotland," Charles reminded her. "He'd fallen in love with it a few years prior, when he attended Lady Susan's marriage to the Earl of Newtonmore, as the Marquess Flintshire was then."

"Did they stay at Duneagle?"

"They did stop by for a few nights before they returned to Downton, but for the majority of the month they wanted something more private. They leased a little castle near Inverness; only fifteen rooms or so; Aldourie, it was called. It was without staff, so the head housemaid, new assistant cook, Lady Cora's maid and I went along to look after them. Downton's staff had been brought back up to proper numbers, so we were easily spared," Charles recalled. "It was a very restful month. I was really only needed to serve dinner, so I had the opportunity to wander quite a bit."

"What if they had needed you? Like in Paris?" Elsie teased.

"It was made abundantly clear when they did not need me. It was rather awkward to be in the house when I wasn't needed," Charles admitted, his ears growing a bit red.

"I can imagine," Elsie smiled that her husband could still blush over such matters.

"One day, Mr. Robert had hired a local guide to take him fishing. He decided at the last minute that he'd rather spend the day with Lady Cora. Mr. Robert suggested that I go in his place."

"I can't imagine you fishing," Elsie chuckled.

"Why not?" Charles asked, slightly affronted.

"It's a leisurely activity that requires patience," Elsie answered. "You're not very good at leisure or patience, love."

"I'm getting better," Charles pouted with playful petulance.

"Yes, you are," Elsie agreed. "But I still can't see it, you fishing on the banks of Loch Ness."

"I have proof. Where did you think I caught Trevor?"

Elsie thought for a bit before she realized to what he was referring. "The fish in your pantry?"

"Mmhmm."

"You named it Trevor?"

"Trevor the trout," Charles confirmed with mock gravity, as if he were announcing a titled lord. "His Lordship insisted on having it mounted for me. If anyone asked, I was to say that he caught it. He wanted proof that they'd left the castle during their stay."

"But they didn't?" Elsie smirked.

"Well, you know how newlyweds can be," Charles said with a flourish of his eyebrows. Elsie blushed beautifully but said nothing. "Nine months later found me serving coffee and whisky to the family in the wee hours of the morning as we helplessly awaited the blessed event. Lord and Lady Grantham stayed up the whole night with their son as Lady Cora labored. Lady Rosamund and Mr. Marmaduke were down from London, but had not kept vigil."

TBC...

AN/ The next chapter will post almost immediately...it just needed to be broken up.

Quick shout out to a guest reviewer 'suzie' who wondered if Mr. Levinson's Jewish background was ever considered an impediment. It was something I had considered before, but had not planned to include. I just skimmed it here, but I think once the family accepted that Robert would have to marry an American, they probably considered that rock bottom. American or Jewish American, they were both inferior to British nobility. [Kind of like Robert being just as offended that Jack Ross was a singer than that he was black.]