Chapter 28

"Telegram for her Ladyship!" a hall boy announced in the servant's hall. Only a few housemaids were at the table chatting and Miss O'Brien was in the attics looking for some fabrics, so Mrs Hughes stepped forward and took the telegram from the boy and headed upstairs, leaving her empty cup of tea in the kitchen. She searched in the library and the drawing room but no sign of Lady Grantham. Not even in her room, therefore Mrs Hughes walked to the nursery half expecting that she might be there. Even before she could reach the nursery door Lady Sybil burst out of it. Eyes wide and twinkling, hands in the air and a healthy rosy glow on her cheeks.

"It's snowing Mrs Hughes! Again!" the young girl exclaimed as she ran towards the Housekeeper and tugged her skirts leading her towards the large window on the corridor adjoining the nursery.

"I suppose it is," Elsie remarked as she let herself be dragged away by the seven year old.

"Look at that! It's beautiful!" the young girl whispered in amazement and surprise and Mrs Hughes gently touched her rosy cheek, watching the wonder in the young girl's eyes.

"Can you lift me up?" Sybil looked up at the Housekeeper.

"My poor old back," Mrs Hughes laughed, one hand on her hip.

"Please," Sybil smiled and batted her eyelids in an effort to coax the Housekeeper.

"Alright. Alright," Mrs Hughes bent down to lift Sybil up in her arms and secured the young girl against her waist as they watched the snow covered landscape together. A few snowflakes still dancing on the wind and settling on the grass.

"Do you like the snow Mrs Hughes?" Sybil asked expectantly. To the young it was simply impossible to imagine anyone who didn't like snow. Well, except Edith who complained about the lack of sunlight.

"Yes, I like the snow," Mrs Hughes replied smiling.

"Do you love the snow?" Sybil asked again.

"I don't know if I should go that far," Mrs Hughes chuckled.

"Why?" Sybil asked again, slightly disappointed.

"You forget Milady that I'm from Scotland and the snow fall here is nothing compared to this. Would you like to walk with snow reaching above your knees?" Mrs Hughes replied and Sybil's expression changed from one of disappointment to amusement.

"I suppose not. But do you think you could love the Yorkshire snow?" Sybil inquired again, trying her best to coax the Housekeeper to love the snow as much as she did.

"I suppose I could. But when I was young I suppose I did love the snow," Mrs Hughes answered as she watched the trees sway in the wind and the snow blowing against the window.

Sybil placed her arm around Mrs Hughes' shoulder and settled her cheek against the Housekeeper's as they watched the snow and Mrs Hughes' lips burst into a beautiful smile as she felt the warmth of the young girl against her.

"Mrs Hughes?" the voice of Her Ladyship called from a few steps away and Elsie turned to face Lady Grantham who had an amused and rather surprised expression on her face.

"Milady," Mrs Hughes replied rather worried about having Lady Sybil in her arms, "there was a telegram for you."

"Oh… I was expecting one. Lady Sybil seems to enjoy getting in your way," Lady Grantham remarked as Sybil smiled shyly and began to scramble down from the Housekeeper's arms.

"I'm sorry Mama I wanted to see the snow," the young girl replied as her feet reached the ground.

"What have I told you about bothering Mrs Hughes?" Lady Grantham said amusedly but trying to act stern with her arms crossed. Sybil chose to smile instead of replying and Mrs Hughes handed the telegram to Lady Grantham.

"Do you love the snow too Mama?" Sybil asked her mother, while Cora was breaking the seal on the envelope.

"Yes, I suppose. I quite like it," Cora replied quickly scanning the contents. Mrs Hughes waited for any instructions and realising that her mother's attention was elsewhere Sybil started playing around Mrs Hughes' skirts. Tugging at one side and when the Housekeeper turned towards that side the young girl would scurry and tug from the other side. Mrs Hughes tried her best to hide the smile on her face from the Lady of the House while Sybil played around her. The mischievous young girl was certainly relishing the fact that Mrs Hughes could do no reprimanding in the presence of her mother.

"Mrs Hughes," Cora began giving the words a final look and Sybil instantly stopped her playing when her mother spoke up.

"Is there anything I can do Milady?" Mrs Hughes asked in her practised tone from several decades.

"Mr and Mrs James Crawley would be joining us for dinner and Master Patrick would be too. They'll stay the night. So I want you to prepare the Blue Room and the Red Room too just in case and arrange for Master Patrick to stay at the nursery," Lady Grantham instructed and Mrs Hughes quickly processed the instructions.

"The nursery and the Red Room can be arranged but I'm afraid the repairs on the Blue Room has not been finished yet, with several of the workmen falling ill," Mrs Hughes replied.

Lady Grantham thought for a moment. Mrs Hughes understanding clearly that Lady Grantham was finding it difficult to recall the floor plan prompted, "Would the Queen Caroline Room be feasible instead of the Blue Room?"

"Yes, of course. The Queen Caroline then," Cora agreed.

"Very well Milady. Will that be all Milady?"

"Yes. Thank you Mrs Hughes," Cora replied and Mrs Hughes nodded and turned to leave. Sybil by this point was at the window again standing on tip toes.

"And you Sybil, off you march," Cora said bent down and turned Sybil by her shoulders. And Mrs Hughes smiled as she heard the giggles of the two Ladies a few steps behind her.

"Who does she think she is, mothering around?" Mr Watson sneered as he sat down on the chair opposite of the one occupied by Miss O'Brien in the servants hall. It was empty except for the Lady's maid who was mending a hat of Her Ladyship's and Mrs Patmore and Anna who were reading through a catalogue. Anna seated at the table and Mrs Patmore standing behind her with a cup of tea in her hand. Hearing the valet's dramatic entrance with the nasty comment they all looked up rather surprised and very curious, except Miss O'Brien.

"Who's mothering who?" Miss O'Brien asked in a rather uninterested tone than expected by the valet, not even looking up from her work as she placed feather after feather against the ribbon of the hat trying to determine which suited better with its colour.

"Mrs Hughes mothering Lady Sybil around. The old spinster Housekeeper thinking she can pull back time mothering her employer's daughter," he laughed disrespectfully as he tossed his small button box on the table making a loud rattling noise.

"That's not very kind. Lady Sybil is just a child and Mrs Hughes is just being kind," Anna protested. She couldn't even begin to describe how disgusted she was by the valet. Everyone knew the valet hated the Housekeeper and had no hesitation in showing it but Anna couldn't think that any man could stoop so low.

"Oh yes, the Scottish saint who could do no wrong!" he laughed sarcastically.

"As if you're jolly Saint Nick," Mrs Patmore muttered loud enough for Mr Watson to hear. It was true that she herself was not very fond of the Housekeeper but she didn't hate her neither, she merely challenged her authority over the store cupboard key rather zealously. She would say they are enemies when she's absolutely incensed but the Cook saw no real substance to it. But no one unnerved her as much as the widely despised valet did. She had often wondered why His Lordship had employed this man for this long.

"Well I'll tell you, it'll be no time before the young lady is speaking that language of the heathens and if by God's grace she remembers any English it'll be in that frosty unintelligible accent. If that mothering goes on for long that is," he laughed wickedly satisfied of being able to fit in several insults aimed at the housekeeper into one sentence.

"Well, I don't know about that. But as far I know the only 'mothering' that you are known to be doing is inside the last door of Codley's alley in Ripon for three shillings per quarter hour and only blondes never brunettes," Miss O'Brien spoke as she rose from her seat, Mr Watson's face red with embarrassment and Anna and Mrs Patmore with eyes wide open in surprise. Many knew that Codley's alley was famed for its brothels drawing in all sorts of men from all levels of the social ladder. "And the girls there say you were rather violent with your sort of mothering," the Lady's Maid finished with a wicked smile gracing her lips.

Mr Watson roughly rose from his seat making a very loud and careless noise as the chair scraped across the stone floor and walked out the hall as soon as possible muttering angrily under his breath, and the three women could hear the traces of several expletives.

"You are a dark horse Miss O'Brien. How on earth did you find that out?" Mrs Patmore asked genuinely curious. Miss O'Brien only smiled wickedly and left taking her things with her leaving Anna and Mrs Patmore to burst into peals of laughter.

"What has got into Mr Watson?" William asked entering the servant's hall.

"Never you mind m'boy," Mrs Patmore giggled as she exited to the kitchen, Anna following closely behind trying hard to suppress her laughter.

To be continued...

Notes: Codley's alley is a fictional place.

Thank you so much for your reviews. They are truly an encouragement. And I'm sorry for the delay. Real life caught up a bit. But I'll try my best to post the next update as soon as possible. By the way, the trailer of movie is just amazing! September cannot come soon enough. Hope you liked this update. See you soon with the next chapter!