As always, my thanks to chelsie fan.


By the time Charles and Elsie reached the Bateses's cottage, all signs of her nervousness had disappeared, replaced with a cool determination. She was bracing herself, Charles realized.

The door was unlocked, and after shaking some of the snow from her boots, she called up the stairs. "Anna?"

"Mrs. Hughes?" came the bleary reply. "I mean, Mrs. Carson-" There was a scuffling of noise as Anna attempted to climb out of bed. "I didn't expect...I'm afraid I'm not decent."

"Go back to bed," commanded Elsie firmly from downstairs. "I'll come to you."

Elsie turned to Charles, who spoke her mind before she could. "I'll wait down here," he said. "You'll let me know if you need me?"

"Thank you," said Elsie gratefully. "I shouldn't think she'd like-"

"To see me right this very moment," Charles finished for her. "Be careful."

She was already marching up the stairs, a woman determined. Charles smiled a little to see her go up. There was a presence he hadn't seen in a long time. The housekeeper again. Sort of. Softer, somehow. He took a seat on the sofa, and let his own worry about Anna assert itself. There was nothing for him to do anymore, but sit and wait. There was no reason to worry without a good reason, but he did anyways. Eventually he couldn't sit still and decided he'd busy himself with putting on the kettle. Something to do.

Upstairs, Elsie found a door directly on her right. "Anna?"

"In here," answered Anna from behind the door, still sounding slightly puzzled. "Did Mr. Bates send you?"

"He did," confirmed Elsie, opening it. The room smelled faintly of stale vomit and Elsie had to consciously stop herself from wrinkling her nose at it. "He mentioned you weren't quite well."

"He worries too much," grumbled Anna. "I'm fine."

Elsie stood in the doorway, not moving. "Oh?"

"Well," Anna conceded. "Not...entirely. But there's no need for-"

"Should I go?" interrupted Elsie. It wasn't actually an option, not before she got the truth, but she had no use for quibbling.

Anna paused. "Please, don't," she replied meekly.

Elsie finally crossed the room to the bed and settled herself down on it. "Then I won't," she said more kindly, seeking Anna's hands with her own. Anna decided this wasn't nearly enough and crashed headlong into her former superior, wrapping her arms around Elsie's middle.

"Anna, what's the matter?"

"I feel awful," Anna confessed. "Nothing will stay down, and I feel so dizzy all the time and..." Anna trailed off, burying her face into Elsie's skirt. And I've missed you. You cannot know how much I've missed you.

"Has Dr. Clarkson seen you?" Elsie asked, stroking Anna's hair reflexively. She knew the answer, but she thought Anna might be more forthcoming than her husband had been about her mysterious illness.

"Yes," she replied, turning her face so that her words wouldn't be muffled. "He says it should pass." Anna paused to collect herself. "But it's not supposed to be like this."

Elsie felt her heartbeat quicken slightly, hoping against hope that she'd understood Anna correctly. "You mean...it's..."

"Yes," groaned Anna. "Over a month gone, he thinks."

Elsie couldn't help the brilliant smile that appeared on her face. "Anna, that's delightful."

Anna got up quickly, fishing for the basin on the other side of her and retching into it for what had certainly not been the first time that day. Perhaps "delightful" was not the appropriate word right this second. Elsie rubbed Anna's back soothingly until it passed. "I cannot believe I prayed for this," Anna muttered, leaning back into her pillows.

"It will pass," Elsie assured her. "And it will all be worth it, I promise."

"I thought it would only be in the morning," said Anna.

"It should be..." said Elsie, her brow now wrinkling in concern. "Perhaps it varies." Pregnancy was not her area of expertise. Her sister had no children; she was too little to have remembered her mother pregnant; and service had not exposed her to many pregnancies.

"What did Dr. Clarkson say to do?" she asked.

Anna gave a short, empty laugh. "To eat and drink as much as possible." Anna shuddered. "I don't even want to think of it."

"You should," replied Elsie automatically. "But let's get you cleaned up a little more first."

Anna mumbled incoherently, curling herself into a more comfortable position.

"I'll be back," Elsie told her, pulling the blankets up around the girl. "Just stay there for now." She got up and headed for the stairs, but Anna's voice made her pause.

"Mrs. Carson?"

There was a little flicker of happiness that Elsie felt under her breastbone at the address. "Yes, dear?"

"I am glad you've come," said Anna.

"As am I," replied Elsie sincerely. "Now, I'll be right back."

Downstairs she found Charles in the kitchen fussing with the stove. He dropped his attention to it when she reappeared, eager to know what she'd found out.

"She's all right," Elsie reassured him. "Or she will be soon enough, I-" she paused, confused. "What on earth were you doing?"

"I cannot get this confounded range to light. There doesn't even seem to be a door..."

Elsie ran her hands over the stone cold surface of the stove and smiled. "Have you considered the fact that it's a gas stove, not coal?"

"I...oh. Well, ours is different," he said, slightly defensively.

"Yes, it is" she smiled. "But never mind that now. I need you to get some things for me."


"Okay," said Elsie taking stock of the contents of the kitchen counter. "Honey, chicken broth, vinegar, and then there's still some bread in the basket."

"Correct," Charles confirmed, looking down at the slip of paper in his hand. "You want...chamomile tea, baking powder, ginger root, crackers, and...half a dozen lemons?"

"Well, as many as you can manage."

"This sounds like the makings of the worst supper of all time."

"It's not supper!" she exclaimed. "It's to help her feel better. Trust me."

"With witches concoctions," Charles muttered under his breath.

"I heard that," she said, with mock exasperation.

Charles shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, still unsettled. "She is going to be all right, isn't she?"

Darling man, he sounded so worried. Elsie was quick to reassure him. "Of course she is. Dr. Clarkson has come and gone. I'll see to her for now, until Mr. Bates comes back. She's going to be fine, Charles."

Charles regarded her with a look of pure admiration. "Elsie, in another life... you would be a wonderful mother." The minute he said it, he wondered if he shouldn't have. They'd never really talked of children, not really. What if he'd stumbled into... And then she was smiling at the floor for some reason, and he stopped worrying about having possibly upset her. For a moment she was silent, beaming and he stared at her, confused.

She shouldn't say. It wasn't her news to tell, and it was far too early, but she couldn't stop the smile on her face. "Well," she said quietly. "At least in this life, Anna is going to make a wonderful one."

"Oh!" he intoned, his voice a delicious mix of surprise and delight to her. "That's it."

"Yes, that's it. A little sickness, that's all. But right now she's a rather miserable creature."

He pulled her into a warm hug, and they stood there in the kitchen for a short moment, embracing each other. A little bit of joy that they could both share in. When they broke apart he kissed her quickly. "I should get back upstairs, " Elsie said, her hands still on his chest.

"Go then, and I'll be back with your...lemons and all the rest."


Charles returned from the village to discover that she had lit the stove, and that there was a kettle whistling away insistently. Elsie bustled down the stairs to see to it, barrelled almost headlong into her husband, who caught her by the shoulders and caused her to give a little cry of surprise.

"Charles! You frightened me half to death!"

"You frighten me half to death," he replied, still staring at the kitchen. "Did you light that yourself?"

"Yes," replied Elsie. Having recovered, she was now working on figuring out where exactly she'd left the pot grips on the counter. "With instructions. What of it?"

Her tone was teasing, challenging. "Nothing," said Charles. "Absolutely nothing."

"Rubbish. You brought the tea?"

"And the lemons. A half dozen. Will that suit you?"

"Quite nicely," she said, taking them from him, entirely missing his incredulous expression. Half a dozen lemons. She had actually wanted half a dozen lemons. She inspected them with her fingers and then carefully set them aside. "Would you be so kind as to pour the water into the teapot? Only seeing as I may have filled the kettle rather full."

He lifted the heavy cast iron kettle off the stove and the words 'tell me you weren't dreaming of doing this yourself' came to mind, but he kept the thought to himself. In his absence she seemed to have ferreted out spoons and the teapot, as well as several mugs, lined up neatly in a row.

"Thank you," she said when he'd finished. She spooned a few teaspoons of tea into the pot and stirred it vigorously, before replacing the lid. All throughout, she had the curious sensation of his watching her. She put the cozy over the pot before turning towards him. "What?"

"I...Nothing," he stumbled, surprised to see her so lively, her movements so...capable.

"Tell me." She didn't quite ever met his eye when she looked at him, but there was no mistaking her probing expression.

"I love you," he said finally. "That's all."

Her face broke into a smile and she shook her head at him. He placed a finger on her chin, and tipped her head up to kiss him. "I do," he told her. "You're marvellous. And what you're doing for Anna is marvellous."

"Don't be-"

He cut her off with a kiss, thinking it more effective and more appropriate than any words.

"Fine," she said finally. "Marvellous."

"That's better," Charles huffed.

She smiled and poured a mug of tea through the strainer, stopping just before it was too full. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to being 'marvellous' upstairs."

"You do that," said Charles incredulously. "I'll come check on you two later."

"Thank you." She headed for the stairs with the mug of tea and her cane. If she hadn't been carrying a mug of hot tea, Charles just might have given in to the urge to give her bottom a playful pinch.


"Sit up." It was a command, not a request. Anna groaned, but complied. Elsie ran her hand over Anna's cheek, down the arm of her nightgown to one limp and clammy hand. "All right. These sheets need changing, as does your clothing."

"Must I?" asked Anna.

"You'll feel better, I promise. Here, come sit in the chair, and I'll strip the bed." Anna stood grudgingly and leaned on Elsie as she made her way to the chair. Elsie searched out the basin and held it out to the poor woman.

"Just in case."

"Thank you," muttered Anna.

Elsie started pulling the sheets and blankets off the bed with practiced ease. Once a housemaid, you never lose the knack, she smiled to herself, and in no time flat the bed was clear.

"Fresh ones?" she asked Anna.

"In the cupboard, I can…get them…"

"You can stay right where you are," said Elsie. "High? Low?"

"Bottom, on the right," instructed Anna, watching as Elsie pulled out the necessary bedding, pillowcases and all. Without hesitation she began making up the bed, thanking God for her years and years of making up beds. The material moved so easily in her hands, the motions to form each corner ingrained. She even re-sheathed the pillows as Anna watched with some degree of amazement.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hugh- Mrs. Carson," fumbled Anna, as she made to stand up. "I'm sorry. I will get that."

"Sit down," insisted Elsie. "We've only half finished. You're next."

"I am?" said Anna weakly.

"Yes. Bathroom?"

"Next door," said Anna.

"Sit," commanded Elsie again. Anna did, and was promptly retching into the basin again. Elsie grimaced. They were going to need a washcloth. Or three.

Half an hour later Anna had been given something resembling a sponge bath and was tucked into bed in a fresh nightgown, sipping a cup of barely warm tea. Every so often Elsie tried to convince her to eat a cracker and successfully got her to eat four before Anna refused any more. Viewing this as a success, Elsie sat back in the rocking chair and let Anna rest for the remainder of the afternoon. If she was completely honest with herself, she, too, was exhausted.


Upon returning to the Bateses's cottage later that evening, Charles found his knocks went unanswered. Nervously, he pushed through the door and crept up the stairs.

"Elsie?"

Not hearing an answer, he opened the bedroom door to find Anna curled up fast asleep in bed, and Elsie dozing in the chair beside her. She couldn't have been comfortable, but Charles was loath to wake her. Instead, he picked up a quilt that was folded neatly on the end of the bed and tucked it around her.

"Charles?" she murmured sleepily, shifting in her seat.

"It's me," he whispered back, not wanting to wake Anna.

"I'm going to sta- stay-" she yawned, "here for now."

"I assumed as much," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "Go back to sleep, my love."

She half nodded, pulling the quilt up around her and settling deeper into the chair. "I love you…too…" she murmured, before drifting off again. Charles took a long satisfied glance around the tidy room, taking in the peaceful sight of his wife and Anna, both fast asleep. He gave the smallest of smiles and left.


TBC...