Chapter 37

"Alright I'm off then," Mrs Patmore said as she popped her head into the Housekeeper's sitting room through the door.

"Ah yes. Good night Mrs Patmore!" Mrs Hughes replied, looking up from her button box and relaxing her eyes that she had squinted in the dim light to inspect the contents of the box.

"Blimey you do keep your sewing to ungodly hours, don't you?" Mrs Patmore couldn't help but remark, eyes widened.

"Good night Mrs Patmore!" Mrs Hughes quirked an eyebrow, fighting the urge to scowl or frown.

Quite taken aback by the Housekeeper's warning look Mrs Patmore retreated, "You are the last then. That's till Mr Carson comes down from the library. Good night Mrs Hughes." Mrs Patmore flashed a slight smile and turned away from the door. Mrs Hughes sighed, almost slammed the lid of the box down in mild frustration. The lighting was certainly not doing her eyes any good but she had to get on and she simply didn't have the time during the day.

She ran her hand over the tiny bits and bobs of lace and ribbons she had found, riffling through some old fabric chests in the attics. One distinctly long piece of lace, she remembered, was originally for a christening gown, to replace a faded piece of lace from the garment which was almost a family heirloom in itself having being used as the christening gown for all three of the Crawley girls. The order was late to arrive and she herself had to go to Ripon to fetch it on time for little Sybil Crawley's christening. She was also the one to sew it on to the christening gown. Mrs Hughes remembered how Lady Grantham had held the baby when she had brought the finished gown upstairs. The little lass was all rosy cheeks and large, blue eyes with wisps of dark brown hair on her small head. Elsie didn't even try to hide her smile as she placed the garment by Lady Grantham's side.

Loud footfalls from the other end of the corridor sounded as Mr Carson came downstairs. It was an exceptionally tiring day and he let out a loud sigh as he roughly rubbed his hand on his face to keep the sleep away from his eyes for a few more minutes before he could lock up and go to bed. He had already sent his footmen to bed after all the candles in the hallways were put out and the doors and windows were checked. He presumed that everyone else must have gone upstairs to bed but a shining on to the corridor from beneath the door of the Housekeeper's sitting room proved him wrong.

Mrs Hughes was too preoccupied with her sewing to notice the sound of footsteps along the hall. The needle had almost pricked her fingers several times that evening and she had thus far been able to avoid it. Another stitch had almost gone the wrong way yet she managed to stop it, sparing her the annoying effort of correcting a wrong stitch. That didn't however stop her from muttering beneath her breath, her face decorated in a frown.

The knock on the door startled her and she jerked causing her thimble to fall to the floor with a clattering noise and the needle to prick her finger, sharply, drawing blood. She hissed in pain and looked up at the door to see a very startled, flustered and surprised Butler standing awkwardly in the doorway clutching the door in one hand and the door frame in the other.

"I'm ever so sorry—."

"Heavens Mr Carson! You scared me half to death!" the Housekeeper frowned at the Butler. Putting her sewing on the table with a rather large amount of force, she popped her wounded finger in her mouth and bent down to retrieve the thimble.

Charles on the other hand, felt extremely tense. He swallowed hard. Uncomfortable. It wasn't a despising uncomfortable. Simply an awkward type of uncomfortable that he tried hard to forget. The image of Elsie crouching around her desk (looking for her lost thimble) with her finger popped in her mouth to ease the sting of the wound and to stop the blood flow, strands of hair from her elaborate hairstyle coming undone. The auburn tresses freed from their confines glowing in a deep golden colour. The rosy colour on her cheeks. It was an image that he knew he couldn't erase from his memory even if he tried. And he wasn't sure that he would ever try to. He swallowed hard again.

"Got it!" Elsie held the thimble between the two fingers of her free hand. Her voice coming as a mumble. Popping the thimble on top of the fabric. She searched her pocket for a handkerchief. Not finding one, she stepped to the other side of her desk and leaned down to fish a white embroidered handkerchief. Releasing her pricked finger she inspected it briefly and covered it with the handkerchief. She looked up and smiled innocently at Charles who stood in the doorway feeling the blood rush in his veins and his heart racing. Finding that his throat had almost constricted and guessing the tension surrounding them without a reply from him, he cleared his throat.

"I… that is… I'm sorry Mrs Hughes. I hope nothing… is… nothing's happened I suppose," he stuttered in a desperate attempt not sound clumsy.

Elsie rolled her eyes, "Well, nothing major. Apart from a pricked finger."

Charles managed an apologetic smile.

"Done for the night Mr Carson?" Mrs Hughes asked as she stepped closer to her chair.

"Finally," he let out a bitter laugh mingled with a sigh. "I thought you might have gone up already."

"I had a few things to attend to," Mrs Hughes answered, her eyes drifting to the sewing on her table.

"That is…" Mr Carson nodded in the direction of the sewing and prompted though he could easily guess what it was, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Yes… it is the dress," Mrs Hughes laughed as she reached out and touched the purple fabric.

"I wasn't sure you would go ahead with it really," Mr Carson added meekly, yet a twinkle in his eyes.

"Honestly Mr Carson, when did you ever know me to go back on a promise," Mrs Hughes quirked an eyebrow.

"Well… true enough," Mr Carson laughed, but inwardly cursing himself for always managing to ask an absurd question.

"Well Mrs Hughes, why don't you call it a night? It must be awfully hard to work on that at this time of the night," he looked around the room and added, "with this light."

"It quite is," Mrs Hughes agreed with a slight nod of the head, "besides its past midnight." She looked back at the clock that stood on the mantelpiece.

"I'm going up then. I'm afraid if I stay up any longer I'll fall asleep on my feet. Good night Mrs Hughes!" he wished her and turned to leave.

"Good night Mr Carson!" Mrs Hughes said with a smile but took a step forward and called after him, her smile fading but slightly. "Mr Carson? Mr Carson?" He turned back with a puzzled expression all over his face.

Mrs Hughes quickly stepped to the opposite side of her desk. Opening a drawer she took out a small parcel wrapped in what looked like an oil paper or a tissue paper. She placed it on her desk and unfolded it while Mr Carson looked on, his eyes wide in curiosity.

She turned back towards him holding a beautifully finished blue doll's dress in a lovely pattern and his face broke into a wide smile. Twinkles dancing excitedly in his dark eyes. It was just the shade he had imagined.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Thank you so much for your lovely reviews on the previous chapter and for your support towards this story! I'm ever so grateful. I was a bit late than I expected to post this chapter (rewrote it almost entirely again before posting) and I thank you for your patience. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and any thoughts about this story and this chapter in reviews are much appreciated! Thanks again! See you soon with a new chapter.