Chapter 37

Elsie's eyes blinked open at the sound of Daisy's bleary wake up call. Charles would certainly be gone by now, she knew, but as she turned to face the side of her bed he had claimed all those years ago, a laugh burst forth from her lips. She could barely move at all as she found the quilt meticulously and quite thoroughly tucked in all around her. With Charles, love had always been about the small, unspoken kindnesses.

Her foolish, lovely, man.

She managed to free a hand, running it lightly over the invisible indent in the sheets, heartened to find the barest trace of warmth remaining. She hadn't dreamt it. He had been there. They had been together. The tides were once again turning in their favour.

Elsie rose and dressed efficiently, fastening each button, affixing each hairpin. The golden glint intermittently bouncing off the mirror as she methodically moved through the practiced regimen was easily reflected in her smile. "Well old friend," she said as she slipped the modest band off her finger and tucked it into the small wooden box that was its home on her mantle, "I shall see you come nightfall." Such was the routine, day after day for nigh on six years now.

She settled into her chair, just to the right of his, offering a sympathetic smile to all of the other nodding headed, sleep-deprived faces seated round the table. "Perhaps we should be asking Mrs. Patmore for a bit of coffee this morning," she mused out loud knowing that Daisy was busy and out of earshot. "For as much as Daisy worries about the souls of the departed, she certainly doesn't care much about waking them in the middle of the night," Thomas griped.

"Pardon, Mr. Barrow," Charles bellowed as he entered the servants' hall. Everyone customarily stood in his presence, but as they turned their faces to acknowledge him fully, their eyes began to widen in surprise. Elsie bit her bottom lip so hard she feared she had cut through as she fought valiantly to swallow the laughter that begged to flow forth.

Charles Carson sported a nice stripe of aubergine over the bridge of his nose.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsie caught Sarah O'Brien giving Thomas an inquisitive, yet humourous, glance, immediately shooting one full of warning back in their direction. Some of the undermaids and hall boys giggled. Anna looked thoroughly confused as they all sat themselves down without another word. "Would anyone care to inform me what they find so amusing this morning," Charles gruffly grumbled.

"What happened to you," Mrs. Patmore unceremoniously bellowed as she placed the steaming plate in front of him. "It looks like you've gone three rounds with a circus animal," she said as reached out a tentative hand, stopping just short of his nose as memory started to kick in and a bright smile lit her face. "Or perhaps a dragon…" she mumbled under her breath as she turned on her heel and made her way back to the kitchen, whistling all the way.

Charles gave Elsie an incredulous look, demanding an explanation. "Finish your breakfast," she whispered curtly. "Everything is fine." She knew he was seconds away from his habitual rise to panic. Charles grudgingly did as he was told, loudly banging his utensils about. Elsie rolled her eyes, trying her best not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. She knew what was coming, the imminent meltdown, but couldn't help seeing the humour in it all.

The servants left the table one by one, off to complete their duties as assigned, until only Elsie and Charles remained. "What the devil is going on," he barked out. "Come to my sitting room, but first you must promise me that you will not overreact," she replied quietly, still biting her lower lip for all she was worth.

"When do I ever overreact," he asked, shocked that she would ever suggest such a thing.

"Lord, give me strength," she muttered as she steered him down the hall by the elbow.

Once they were in her sitting room, Elsie closed the door and ordered Charles to sit down on the settee. "I most certainly will not," he argued. "What did Mrs. Patmore mean when she commented about my appearance? Elsie, what's going on," he demanded as she dug through the upper drawer on her desk, praying that he didn't catch sight of himself in the mirror over the mantle.

"First off, yes you will," she said as she gently pushed him to be seated. "I will not have you tearing through here, bellowing to the heavens over a little mistake… one that you indeed caused, I will have you know."

Charles was getting nervous. "Elsie, what aren't you telling me?"

Elsie settled herself firmly upon his lap with an arm slung over his shoulder, mainly in an effort to hold him down. She slowly lifted the small mirror up to his face, bracing herself for his reaction. Charles went slack-jawed at the sight of the small patch of bruising right smack in the middle of his face. Elsie couldn't hold it back anymore. She buried her face in his neck as she started to unravel with laughter.

"I cannot comprehend how you find this remotely funny, Elsie Carson," he groused. "How am I supposed to show myself upstairs in this condition?"

"I am sorry," Elsie said, still laughing. "You are right. It is a horrible travesty."

"Well now you are just poking fun," he complained, but found himself forcing back a smile. This was his Elsie, his maddening, delightful Elsie. Constantly taking the seriousness of running a household as grand as Downton Abbey and turning it on its head. Challenging him, finding the brighter side to things, stealing the infrequently lighthearted moments… it was all part of her frustratingly irresistible charm.

Damn it all, he loved her for it.

"You simply tell his Lordship that you were startled out of sleep by another servant's nightmare, and in your groggy state, you ran into something."

"Like my wife's head?"

Elsie playfully slapped his shoulder. "Foolish man. The peg on your door, a hatstand… I don't know, but you'll think of something. You always do," she said as she gently brushed her lips over the injury. She stole a glance at the two of them in the small mirror and smiled. "The bad news is you're still as handsome a devil as ever. No need to fear that," she said as she rose to her feet, satisfied that he had cooled down enough to be set free.

"Does it hurt?"

Charles's cheeks reddened. "To be honestly, I had no idea anything was wrong until Mrs. Patmore opened her mouth."

His reference to Mrs. Patmore gave Elsie pause. What was that little quip she had uttered about a dragon about, she wondered. It did not elude her that one of Charles's nicknames for her had always been his "Scottish dragon."

Suddenly it was Elsie's turn to panic.

She made sure that Charles was calm enough to proceed off to his duties, sending him off with a brief kiss and a loving stroke to his arm. After briefly reassuring Anna that everything was okay after bumping into her in the hall, she made her way to the kitchen. She would straighten this out one way or another.

"Mrs. Patmore? A word please."