Chapter 11

Mr Carson descended from the staircase that led downstairs. He had been in the library all morning with His Lordship discussing matters with the Estate Agent and Mr Murray, the solicitor. He had been surrounded by disagreements over land, farms and finances, that he felt so glad when it all ended. Usually he would stand still in the corner, enveloped in a world of his own. But the raised voices of the men had disturbed his train of thought often, bringing him i

back to earth and he couldn't help feeling a little annoyed. He reached the end of the stairs and the calm and quietness of the downstairs corridors, slightly disturbed by preparations for the upstairs luncheon filled him with much needed relief. He walked across the corridor unhurried, taking smaller strides than usual. When he reached Mrs Hughes' parlour he couldn't help but take a peer through the half open door, his curiosity roused by the strange sound coming from within. And with what he saw, a smile lit up on his face.

Lady Sybil had fallen asleep, curled up against Mrs Hughes. Her clenched fists tucked under her chin, her face against Mrs Hughes' chest. And Mrs Hughes was softly singing what seemed to be a lullaby in what sounded like Gaelic. The waves of her soft voice filled her parlour as it walked across the language that was quite unfamiliar to Mr Carson. Of course he had heard Gaelic being spoken, in the theatres and the occasional conversation of scattered Scotsmen and Scotswomen. He'd heard the new Doctor Clarkson mutter to himself in Gaelic. But never his Mrs Hughes speaking it, or much better, singing it. Wait! His Mrs Hughes? Of course she was his Mrs Hughes! There were slight slips of her tongue where she muttered to herself in Gaelic too and often induced by Miss O'Brien annoying her in some way. A smile slipped on to his face at the thought of the two fiery Celts in the middle of their fiercest battles. But these mutterings were rare and she often stopped them immediately once they crossed her notice. But this! Mr Carson could never have predicted the tenderness that would rush to his heart during this situation.

She gently stroked Sybil's dark head of hair and he couldn't help but notice the small degree of similarity between their looks. An unexpected rush of tears entered his eyes but he managed to fight them. It would look bad enough if anybody saw, the butler staring at the Housekeeper's parlour but it would be much worse if he was seen crying. Elsie's sweet voice and care for Lady Sybil made him long for something he could never have. A home of his own. To come back from work to the waiting arms of his wife, his Elsie, and to the excited smiles of their children. He searched his brains for an apt adjective to describe it to himself but settled on lovely not having found anything better. It would not do to dwell on regrets, he thought and quickly banished those thoughts from his mind and watched the indescribably beautiful scene ahead of him. Listening to Elsie's voice curling around the edges of the Gaelic words.

Elsie couldn't even describe her feelings in her mind. This was too beautiful. She knew she didn't deserve this. She didn't even care for her sister by herself. Well there was reason and that being giving Becky a better life than what could give her caring for her by herself but it still made her feel guilty and lingered on her conscience making her want to doubt herself. Elsie knew that this wasn't the life fate had decided upon her and it had been long since she accepted it. But this sweet lassie had stretched the boundaries of her heart to extents she never let them stretch. It pained her, thinking of what she could have had. Of course it did, she was not as heartless as everyone imagined her to be. She just didn't let her emotions show. She didn't wear her heart on her sleeve. It wouldn't do to a Housekeeper to look emotional. But she was human and she often got attached to her charges like sweet, dear Anna and William and now Lady Sybil.

She kept her pen carefully beside the notebook and wrapped that arm around the little girl's shoulders. She gently leaned down so as not to disturb the sleeping girl and placed a gentle kiss to the little girl's head. A smile lit up on her face as the sleeping girl cuddled even more close to her. Outside the door Mr Carson took in a shaky breath as unexpected tears welled in his eyes.

"One day you will grow up into a wonderful Lady my dear. A kind, generous, loving, wonderful Lady, mo ghràidh," she whispered as softly as she could to the sleeping girl who slept oblivious of the Housekeeper's words.

"Just like the wonderful woman holding you right now," Mr Carson thought as he watched Mrs Hughes place another kiss on to Sybil's head.

To be continued…

Thank you so much for all your reviews again. Time doesn't permit me to thank you all personally and I'm so sorry about it. Dangling university and keep creativity alive is tough. But your reviews encourage me and make me want to keep on writing and I'm so grateful to you all because writing this story makes me so happy. There's still way more to come, hopefully! I'm so sorry for taking so long to publish this chapter. Some unexpected assignments came my way and I promise I'll try to publish the next chapter as soon as possible! In fact I can't wait to write the next! And thank you all again.

p.s. mo ghràid is Scottish Gaelic for my darling

I had a couple of Scottish Gaelic lullabies in mind when I was writing this but the main one was Ba Mo Leanabh. I wanted to include it in the story but I couldn't find the proper lyrics. It's beautiful and available on YouTube so check it out if you like.

See you soon with a new chapter.