Q – is for Quiet
It had been a terribly long and busy day, one where Elsie and Charles barely saw one another and were busy solving one crisis after another. Lunch and dinner had been a rushed affair and there had been no time for a stolen moment or two in between duties. By the end of the day, they were both looking forward to heading to their cottage, sitting together on their sofa, and enjoying the comfortable peace and quiet.
"I'm just going up to make my last sweep through the house, lock up, and then I'll be ready to head home." His voice sounded as weary as she felt, and his smile was most definitely not one of his brighter ones.
"I'll be ready, love. I'm paying the last of the invoices, and then I'll make us a small basket for the morning. I've spoken to Thomas and Miss Baxter about overseeing breakfast in the morning to give us a chance to rest a little. We'll be here before the upstairs breakfast, so no need to worry about any of that," she said, allaying any worries as if she could read his mind.
"You're quite the plotter when you want to be," he teased, his smile finally reaching his warm, hazel eyes.
"We have earned a bit of a lie in tomorrow, though mind you, it won't be a long one. Still, every little bit helps when we get to be our age." She stood from her chair and stretched, her back clicking in a few places and giving her a bit of relief from her aching bones and muscles. She stretched up and kissed his cheek before brushing her thumb across his lips. "The sooner you go, the sooner we can get home."
"I'll be back before you know it," he promised, returning a kiss to her cheek and a warm squeeze to her upper arm.
While Charles was busy upstairs, Elsie went to the kitchen to pack a small basket of food for their breakfast. A few slices of bread, extra just in case Charlie tried to help with the toaster, some fresh fruit which could be easily sliced, and a wedge of cheese. She paused to take a mental stock of what she already had in her small refrigerator at home: eggs, milk, jam, and leftover chicken. Feeling confident that it would be more than enough to get them started, she brought the basket back to her room and waited for Charlie to return.
She finished writing out all the bills, double checked the list for the maids, looked into the laundry to make sure it was nice and tidy, contemplated making herself a cup of tea, turned off the lights in Charlie's sitting room, gathered his hat, coat, and scarf … and still no husband. Her concern over what had detained him was slightly overridden by her mild irritation at being kept waiting for so long when they were both so exhausted. Deciding she'd waited long enough, Elsie began to walk the familiar route through the house in search of her husband.
At this time of night, the house was incredibly quiet. Everyone was safely and warmly tucked into their beds. There were no maids or footmen scurrying around trying to complete tasks before the family arrived in a particular room. The only sound that could be heard echoing through the corridors was that of the various clocks ticking away the time … time which Elsie thought could be better spend in her nightdress in her own home wrapped up in the arms of her husband.
Climbing up the grand staircase to the second floor landing, Elsie paused once or twice to straighten a bow which had gone askew on one of the many strands of garland decorating the rails and bannisters. When she reached the top, she paused for a moment to admire the grand Christmas tree, still lit and adding a warm glow to the entrance hallway. By the time they reached the cottage, it would be too late to switch on their tree lights and enjoy the beauty of it, she realized with a little pang of regret at not having left earlier in the evening.
Passing by all the close doors on the corridors, Elsie imagined what it would be like when she and Charlie finally retired. They'd be able to go to bed at a decent hour, sleep in whenever they wanted, and enjoy a more relaxed pace to life with all that involves. She shook her head to wake herself from her daydream and to refocus on finding Charlie when she noticed that the nursery door was slightly ajar.
Softly, she peeked her head inside the door and was shocked by what she saw. Her beloved Charlie, the man she'd spent a good half hour looking for throughout the incredibly quiet house, was sitting in the plush armchair in the nursery … fast asleep. But, he wasn't alone. Curled up in a blanket in his lap and clutching her favorite doll was Sybbie. Charles held her securely in his left arm, her head nestled sweetly against his chest, and her copy of A Visit from St. Nick loosely held in his right hand, opened to a page halfway through the book.
She tiptoed into the room and stood completely still for several long moments, drinking in the scene before her. She was, most likely, the only person in this entire house that was awake and she felt incredibly blessed to have stumbled upon this cozy, quiet little scene. He must have heard Sybbie and peeked in to check on her, and never being able to refuse her, he offered to read her a story before putting her back to bed. His exhaustion and her drowsy state must have lulled them both to sleep.
Elsie lightly raked her fingers through her husband's hair then Sybbie's, watching as both squirmed a little at her touch and snuggled closer together. She truly hated to disturb the peaceful moment but letting them stay was not an option. Being mindful not to startle either sleeping beauty, she slipped the book from his hand and returned it to Sybbie's table before trying to wake her husband.
"Charlie? Charlie, love? You need to wake up," she whispered quietly so very close to his ear so as not to disturb the child sleeping in his arms.
"Hmmm," he mumbled before slowly opening his eyes. He blinked once or twice before he realized what must have happened. "I'm so sorry, Elsie. I didn't mean to fall asleep. What time is it?"
"Shhh, you'll wake her," she soothed. "And don't worry about the time. It's late, but we'll manage. You need to shift her to her own bed, if you think you can manage."
"If you'll straighten her blankets, I think I can manage." While Elsie worked to straighten the covers and sheets and plumped the pillow, Charles shifted to the edge of the chair and finally worked up the momentum to lift himself and the child to a standing position. With great care, he eased her into her own bed and slipped his arms from around her small frame while Elsie drew the blankets up tightly around her chin, making sure her doll was tucked in as well.
They stood and stared down at the child for a moment, drinking in the sight and marveling at how relaxed and happy she seemed to be even in her slumber. "We should be heading home, love." Elsie patted his back and wrapped her arm around his waist, snuggling into his side. "I'll have to admit, I'm a little jealous that she got your cuddles tonight, and I am missing out."
"I saved my best and warmest cuddles for you, lass. I hadn't planned on stopping on my rounds but I heard her up and moving about in here so I stopped to check on her. She promised she'd go straight to bed if I would read her the story. It was a little chilly so I wrapped her up in the blanket and, as they say, the rest is history."
"No harm done, and I'm sure she'll sleep sweetly for the rest of the night." Elsie bent and placed a loving kiss to the child's forehead, whispered something in Gaelic, then took Charlie's hand and tugged.
"Wait," he asked before leaning over and kissing the top of her head and adjusting the blanket around her once more. "Sleep well, little one."
"Love you," she murmured in her sleep before she and her dolly turned over and nestled deeper into her warm bedding.
The house was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop on the carpet, but the little girls' words spoken in her sleepy state were louder than anything Charles and Elsie had ever heard. Louder than any church bells, laughing children, chiming clocks, clinking of silverware, popping Champagne corks … to them, it was the sweetest sound in the world. And, as soon as it was said, the house was plunged back into stillness, a quiet atmosphere which is like being enveloped into a warm hug from your favorite person.
"Let's go home, Elsie."
"I won't read you a bedtime story, but I promise a good cuddle when we get there."
He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her to the door, making sure to shut it softly behind them. "She's growing up too quickly. Before long, she won't want to sit in our laps or have tea parties or draw pictures for us."
She patted his chest above his heart and snuggled into his side as they descended the stairs. "True, but she will always have the memories, and so will we, to revisit on quiet nights, summer nights, Christmas Eve's, and all the days in between. Until then, we enjoy them all while we can."
As they gathered their things for their nightly walk back to the house, Charles watched Elsie and smiled. "I may not be ready to retire, but it won't be long."
"We can discuss that another time, when we're not both utterly exhausted. I will say that I've been feeling that way, too. Let's not focus on that now when we're both so tired. Tomorrow is another day, and I have a feeling a well-rested little girl is going to be full of boundless energy and in your office first thing. You'd better get a good night's sleep, Mr. Carson. Your fan needs you to be bright and bushy eyebrowed tomorrow."
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Cheeky Scot!"
"And you adore every bit of me."
He tapped her bottom playfully. "Indeed, I do. If we hurry home, I must just be able to show you."
Later that evening, the Carson's cottage wasn't as quiet at Downton Abbey when an Englishman and a Scotswoman decided they weren't as exhausted as they once thought.
A/N: Who wouldn't want to cuddle with a certain butler and have him read us a story? Lol I thank you all for the reviews. Ffnet has been a problem child lately, and it won't let me reply to reviews. As soon as that is fixed, I'll be answering those messages. Many hugs and heartfelt thanks! xoxo