Chapter 12

Something similar to a sharp breath sounded outside and Mrs Hughes quickly shot her head up and glanced at the door. A shadow or rather a blur of black and white flashed past and disappeared out of her view. Had it not been for the little girl asleep on her lap, she would have hurried to her feet and checked who it was. She smiled. The colours she saw were enough for her to make a guess as to who was looking through her door and she desperately hoped her guess was right.

For a moment her mind whirled. Would he think her silly? Would he think her not proper for letting one of the young Ladies spend time with her? Would he disapprove? Would he rebuke her? Charles Carson was a kind man beneath all that starched and rigid exterior and she knew it but sometimes he got really flustered about propriety which as important to him as his own blood and breath. He didn't mean to most often, but nevertheless ended up hurting her, pushing her away that it broke her heart. A couple of times she even considered leaving but the thought of not seeing him every day and not sharing simple moments with him would have devastated her even more. Instead she patiently took it all in and moved on.

She had often wondered what it would have been if she had met him in an entirely different life. She would have made a life with him, a family. But she knew he wouldn't echo her sentiments about the matter and the ever daring Elsie Hughes didn't dare to confess her feelings or take a step forward in fear of losing the friendship and whatever little it had given them. To her even that was so precious.

She looked at the young girl blissfully asleep against her and wondered about the usual dream that she imagined. Blue eyed children with black hair. It was painful, yes. But some things are just meant to be. She remembered her childhood. Not exactly what she would call happy but it was free. Her mother was kind but a life as a farmer's wife, the loss of several children before they even took in their first breath, a daughter that the whole village believed to be cursed had hardened her. And she was not the emotional type. Not the type for hugs and kisses and listening to children talk of their fears. And maybe that was what made Elsie into who she was. Her position required her to put on a steel façade but nevertheless she couldn't stop the little streams of care and kindness that flowed through cracks in the steel.

Maybe she was selfish in imagining her own bubble of happiness with Charles in another life, she thought. For in this life she cared for several "children" who needed her more. Children from broken and unhappy families pushed young into the sombre life of service to feed several hungry bellies left behind in a cold home. Unforgiving and terrible pasts. Maybe they needed her more, to stay strong, to survive, to know that this too was a new kind of home. This was what she always consoled herself with.

A voice calling "Sybil" very loudly from further up the corridor woke her from her reverie, feeling quite surprised. It woke up Sybil too and she lazily stirred against Mrs Hughes struggling to open her eyes. With a head held high, hands crossed regally in front of her, Lady Mary appeared on the Housekeeper's doorway. Mrs Hughes couldn't stand up with the little girl on her lap, still in the process of waking up.

"How can I help you Milady?" Mrs Hughes asked with a smile but Mary's serious expression didn't change making Mrs Hughes think that Lady Mary was putting up too much airs on for such a young age.

"I've come to fetch Sybil, Mrs Hughes," Lady Mary stated in her no nonsense tone, recently adopted.

"She's almost awake now," Mrs Hughes replied down at the little girl who was brushing the back of her hands on her eyes and looking around intently, her face darkening at the sight of Mary, now standing only a few steps away from her. She slid down from Mrs Hughes' lap and looked up at the kind Housekeeper who couldn't resist smiling.

"Thank you Mrs Hughes for the stories. They were lovely," she whispered in a sleepy haze and took a few uncertain steps towards her sister. She turned back as if she had forgotten something and hurriedly reached up and placed a kiss on the Housekeeper's cheek. Mrs Hughes noticed the scowl on Mary's face, clearly disapproving. Mary grabbed Sybil's hand and almost dragged her out of the Housekeeper's sitting room, with the younger reluctant to leave the place that opened her world to so much magic and simple beauties.

Mrs Hughes watched the pair of them leave sadly. Of course she knew that Lady Sybil would have been needed upstairs but over the days she had become so attached to the spirited, young girl that she missed her so much when she was gone. Mrs Hughes also suspected this to be an act on the whim and fancy of Lady Mary who was becoming haughty by the day, mistaking the fact that being a Lady was all about putting on airs and being haughty. She thought of the kind Lady Grantham. Of course she was a foreigner so she is meant to be different and the Dowager Countess was no different from Lady Mary at times probably the source behind the young girl's behaviour, but even she had a certain sense of fairness and righteousness, despite her age old and inflexible attitudes, that Mrs Hughes had grown to respect.

She sighed and turned to her paperwork again. She very much hoped that Lady Sybil did not change with time and would always remain the same sweet, kind and enthusiastic girl. But it was a very different life cut out for them. A life which was more of a pretence that Elsie never really understood. A life that she feared would drain the spirit of the young girl she had grown to love.

To be continued…

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