Note: A little shorter chapter this week (by my standards anyway!) cause of this week being very busy. Also a day earlier than usual as tomorrow is Christmas day! Happy Christmas everyone!

The smooth comforting scent of steaming hot chocolate wafted into the hallway near the door as Thomas took off his coat, shook it a little in an attempt to remove the tiny shiny beads of drizzle that clung to the fabric, before hanging it on the hook above Richard's shoes. He had returned home from Downton for a couple of hours to see Richard. He had told Phyllis that he was going to see if he needed anything, but truthfully it was more than that. Richard would be okay on his own, with Chris or David to help him or fetch him anything he needed, but he wanted to see him. He had come so close to losing him, that now he needed to make every moment count. He took a long deep breath in, savoring the chocolatey milky smell that he could swear he could taste. From the moment he had arrived at Downton, a little after nine in the morning, he had found himself touched by the number of people downstairs, as well as a few upstairs, who asked after Richard's wellbeing. Daisy and Charlotte had also asked if he had enjoyed the cake they had made for him the day before and had been glad to hear that it was not only delicious, but perfectly timed with Chris's cooking efforts for them both as well. Even on his way back to the village he had been stopped a few times by neighbors and people he knew by their faces but rarely spoke too. He had also ran into Mr Tomlinson outside the post office who had been very pleased to hear of Richard's return and who had also carefully added that 'Mr Ellis was very fortunate to have such a devoted friend in you Mr Barrow'. He never asked for any praise, but with all the struggles that had gone by, he had felt the warmth glow within him, not just at the comment, but because he knew of yet another person who he could trust and rely on.

Thomas pushed open the door to see Chris stirring some chocolate powder into a steaming hot mug on the work surface near the sink. "Smells lovely."

"Oh hello Thomas," Chris said, sounding surprised. "Didn't expect you back for another hour or so. I was gonna take this upstairs for Richard but if you could then I'd be grateful. I have a man due to deliver a set of magazines any minute now so I need to be in the shop." Chris carefully lifted the cups onto a small tray. "Do you want one?"

"I would, but I'll make it Chris, you sound like you've got your hands full." He took the tray from Chris and put it on the table. "How much milk did you put in Richard's?"

"It's all milk. He should have half and half I know, but he's got the excuse that he needs it to recover." Chris grinned. "And anyway it's nicer when it's made that way." Chris sauntered into the office, whistling as Thomas heard a draw open and then close, followed by the shuffling of sheets of paper and then the clatter of a pen as it dropped onto the desk.

"You're in a good mood." He pulled out a pan from the cupboard, poured some milk into it and placed it on the ring to warm.

"Yeah s'pose I am," Chris returned to the kitchen, the pen in the top of his shirt pocket. Thomas thought how he looked like he was a man in his element here.

"You've got everything under control?" He took a mug out of the top cupboard.

"I do. Ship shape this place is. Everything is great Thomas." Chris grinned, and if Thomas wasn't so mistaken his cheeks had blushed pink ever so slightly. "Perfect I'd say."

"I see. And David, how are you both?"

Chris nodded slightly. "We're good. Great."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Great?"

"Mmm, yep that." Chris looked over his shoulder momentarily as the shop door bell rang. "That will be him, not David, the other man, the delivery, the one with the books. I should go." Chris dashed into the shop, quicker than he needed and Thomas chuckled to himself as he spooned one and then two, as he was feeling tempted, spoonfuls of chocolate powder into his mug. He didn't need to ask, it would make them both feel awkward anyway, but he knew that David had gone back with Chris last night and he could draw his own conclusions from that.

...

"Chris! Can you get that?" Thomas shouted from upstairs as he heard a knock at the door. All that answered his call was the deafening sound of silence as he remembered that Chris had gone out for lunch, closing the shop for an hour. In normal circumstances Thomas knew that Richard and Chris would alternate their lunch hours so that they didn't lose an hour of sales, although that was not possible with the one man show Chris was running. He trotted downstairs casually fiddling with the pocket watch he had been tinkering with as he had noticed it had been running slow lately. They had received a few visitors over the morning, people asking after Richard, some clearly more interested in gaining the latest gossip before their neighbors, but others who Thomas could tell genuinely meant well. However, as he opened the door he gasped in surprise as he did not expect these visitors at all. "M'Lady! Master George! I-I was not expecting you!" he exclaimed as he struggled to compose himself into a manner that would befit his employer.

"Good afternoon Barrow. I hope this is not a bad time?" Lady Mary asked, seeing his frazzled state of mind.

"Hello Mr Barrow! I got a present for Mr Ellis, do you like it?" George chirped excitedly, looking up at him with a cheeky toothy grin. "I picked it myself, it was the biggest one there!" The boy held a very large orange in both his hands out towards Thomas. He, as he often did with the children, felt himself immediately calmed by their presence.

"That is a very impressive orange Master George, size of a grapefruit I reckon. I'm sure Mr Ellis will love it." His answer was met with a giggle that indicated he had said the right thing.

"George was very eager, as you can see, to give this to Mr Ellis, Barrow and since there is something that I would like to discuss with Mr Ellis and yourself, I thought we'd take the opportunity to visit," Lady Mary added formally, she was the opposite to her son's behavior who was champing at the bit to get inside and deliver his gift. Thomas thought that George must have remembered how he gave him a similar gift when he was resting up in bed years ago after a time he'd rather not dwell on, and reckoned that since he had recovered, George must have decided that an orange was the perfect gift for an ill person. His thoughts though shifted to Lady Mary's reason for visiting them.

"You are very welcome here M'Lady, Master George, please come in." He held open the door as they entered into the small hallway, that must seem like a cupboard to someone who is used to the grand entrance hall at Downton. "Please come through," he added, inviting them into a space where they weren't pressed in like fish in a tin, although the kitchen wasn't much better. He was playing his part as a calm and collected servant once more, but inside he was in turmoil. He hadn't really wanted to invite them in. George he didn't mind, he'd been here before after all last year to decorate the Christmas tree, but he felt very self conscious with Lady Mary in their tiny kitchen, her fine clothing that probably cost more than the whole room, showing up the surroundings in stark contrast. Then there was the fact that, apart from people they trusted and knew, they never had visitors inside just in case they would see some evidence of the illegal relationship that they hid so well. Thomas knew that she was aware of Richard and himself, they all were, but it still concerned him.

"How is Mr Ellis doing?" She asked.

"He's much improved, M'Lady, and is grateful that you've allowed me the flexibility to split my time between home and Downton." Thomas knew a little flattery was a good way of buttering up his employers, or anyone of their class, if needed.

"It was the least we could do, Barrow."

"I should"—he glanced in the direction of the stairs—"I should see if Mr Ellis is awake, M'Lady. The medication he's on makes him drowsy so he sleeps more. Please sit down." He hastened to pull a chair out from the table.

Lady Mary nodded as she accepted the chair. "Thank you Barrow, please go up," giving him permission to leave with a wave of her hand as George, who had just found Wilde under the table, crouched down to pet the cat.

"Thank you M'Lady." He gave a quick nod and left as quickly as he could, rushing up the stairs as fast as possible whilst walking not running. He pushed open the door to the living room, catching it before it banged loudly on the wall behind. His eyes jumped around all over the room, searching for anything that he should tidy away or hide. He huffed as he decided there was nothing incriminating to be seen, just things that made the place untidy. He straightened out the cushions of the chairs, cleared away a jumper that had been left on the floor for Wilde to nap on in the sun, and picked up an empty mug that was stained inside by the remnants of tea.

He hurried down the hallway past their bedroom to the bathroom, not that he expected her to want a grand tour of the place or anything, but he couldn't be too careful. The bathroom was full of evidence of two people sharing it. His and Richard's toothbrushes for example, were in the same jar on the shelf. There were two towels on the rail, and another slung over the edge of the bath from this morning. He picked it up, the cold dampness touching his skin, the smell of soap wafting into the air as the material was disturbed. He stopped, a brief intermission in the chaotic mess in his mind, as he recalled this morning. Richard had wanted a bath, he hadn't been able to have such luxury for weeks. He had run the bath to a lukewarm temperature, swishing his hand into the water to check the temperature was just right, before helping Richard undress. He had stayed there too, perching on the edge of the bath as Richard relaxed back into the water. The warmth had soothed his aching chest apparently. He had let him run the cloth over his shoulders, down his chest. He had only squeezed water over him there, to let trickles of warmth run over him forming a delta of tiny rivers migrating the hairs on his chest. He had proceeded down over Richard's stomach and had then dipped his hand below the surface massaging him over his hips, down his left leg and onto his— Thomas jumped out of his daydream in a flash, and flung himself back into reality. Lady Mary and her son are downstairs, thank God they can't hear my thoughts!

He hung the towel to dry and shut the door behind him, rushing back down the hallway to the spare bedroom. There was little to be seen here, as the room was hardly ever used as a bedroom. The curtains were open, but the bed was made perfectly as no one had slept in it since David had borrowed it when he had first arrived in Downton. He stood, with his hands on his hips surveying the room. It was too neat, so he untucked one side of the bed sheets and flung it back on itself before crumpling the pillow a little. "There," he said to himself, satisfied. He closed the door as he left, but immediately opened it again, to give the impression that there was nothing to hide.

He left their bedroom to last. Richard looked up from the book he was reading. "Hello darling," he greeted him.

"Hi," he added simply rushing in as he saw his pajamas on top of the bed, along with Richard's shirt. Richard lay shirtless, legs crossed, looking delightful and perhaps, if he was not in such a panic he would have told him so. He bundled up the pajamas, and stuffed them under his pillow and then set to trying his best to straighten out the covers on his side of the bed, smoothing the ridges in the fabric as best he could and tucking it in, all to the tune of Richard's growing curiosity, who was watching his behavior with a comical interest.

"Darling, what are you doing?" Richard asked as Thomas pushed a pair of shoes into the bottom of the wardrobe.

"Tidying up." He picked the empty mug of hot chocolate from the table next to the bed and desperately looked for somewhere to put it. Failing to think of anywhere sensible, he hid them under the bed.

Richard chuckled, a sound that never failed to warm his heart. "I can see that but why? Are my parents here? You know they won't mind a bit of healthy clutter Mr Barrow."

"There not, no. Not them."

"I heard someone downstairs." Richard put his book down on the table next to him. Thomas noticed that he had a good deal of them, probably courtesy of Chris, to keep him busy.

"Yeah you did. Lady Mary and Master George! Master George has got you a present to help you get better—"

"Oh that's lovely."

"It is, but Lady Mary also wants to speak to you, to both of us about something. She's waiting downstairs and I should invite her up here..." He looked worryingly at Richard.

"So you're making things look more normal. I see. Thomas, don't worry. She knows, they all do. I doubt she would be shocked by the sight of your pajamas or my socks," he calmly reassured him.

"What socks?" Thomas's gaze darted around the room once more until he saw the socks, and pushed them under the bed also, before moving the armchair into a better position so she could sit down somewhere.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Well I can't ask her to perch on the edge of our bed can I? It wouldn't be right. Richard, aren't you cold only half dressed?"

"No, I'm a little warm if anything."

Thomas's concerns over the appearance of their room were pushed aside as he hurriedly rested the back of his hand on Richard's forehead. "You feel fine, don't you?"

"I'm fine Thomas. I'm comfortably warm, not feverish. Send her up here okay, don't keep them waiting anymore, then we can hear what she has to say okay?" Rochard squeezed his hand.

"Sorry."

"You're attention to detail is adorable Mr Barrow, as is your fuss over me. But you know as well as I do, it is impolite to keep a Lady waiting."

"Yes, yes you're right. What would I do without you?" He kissed Richard's forehead quickly, before grabbing a shirt from the wardrobe and throwing it in his direction. "You should be properly dressed Mr Ellis," he smirked before leaving for downstairs once more.

...

"This is for you Mr Ellis, Mr Barrow had one when he was poorly so I thought you'd feel better if you had one too," George explained as he handed Richard the orange fresh from Downton's orangery. Thomas felt his heart warm at the simple but loving gesture from the child, who he hoped wouldn't change too much as he grew up. He glanced to his side where Lady Mary, who was trying her best to not display her emotions, smiled slightly. She was like him in a way, they never liked to let people see what they were truly feeling.

"You are very kind Master George, I think I feel a little better already," Richard replied, indulging George who grinned happily as his gift was once again well received.

George looked as though he was about to say something else, but his attention was grabbed by Wilde who had followed them upstairs into the bedroom. "May I play with your cat Mr Barrow?" the boy asked. Thomas hesitated, as he felt he should shoo their cat away in case Lady Mary would object, in fact he still found himself anxiously searching their room for any little thing that should be out of sight, or that might be untidy. He inwardly cursed her unannounced arrival; if he had known she would visit then at least he could tidy the place up a bit. He looked at Richard who in comparison to him, was looking rather comfortable considering the unusual circumstances of having a woman, let alone Lady Mary in their bedroom.

Thomas couldn't deny George though, "You may Master George," he glanced at his mother. "As long as you have no objections M'Lady?"

"No, not at all, it will give us the chance to discuss the matter I mentioned earlier downstairs Barrow. Stay in here though George, don't go wandering around," she instructed her son.

"Yes mama," George agreed easily, immediately sitting down on the floor with the cat, who Thomas had decided was thankfully fond of children. He couldn't imagine what he would do if Wilde had lashed out and scratched George. Wilde happily let George gently stroke him and fiddle with his ears.

"If the matter you want to discuss with us is one of a private nature M'Lady, then I could get up and we could go to the living room?" Richard offered.

"Thank you Mr Ellis, but I couldn't have you moving unnecessarily while you are still recovering. We will be fine here," she insisted as she sat in the chair that Thomas had rearranged only minutes earlier in his panic. He stood fidgeting with his hands behind his back, not knowing if he should sit or stand or where he should be standing. "Sit down Barrow," she asked and whilst a part of him despised being given orders in his own house, he was thankful for the direction. Richard offered him an understanding smile as he sat on the end of the bed, at Richard's feet.

"How can we help M'Lady?" he asked. A giggle came from the floor on the other side of the bedroom where George was waving his untied shoelace around in Wilde's face who playfully batted it with his paw.

"Well, it was going to be a case of how we could help you Barrow, you both that is." She rested her hands delicately on her lap, over her small handbag. She had a way of making him feel as though they were in her house and it was he and Richard who were visiting her, not the other way around. "His Lordship and I had been discussing how further we could assist you both in these unfortunate circumstances, and so we decided to see to it that you, Mr Ellis, were not burdened by having to pay for your long hospital stay. It hardly seemed right that you should as your injuries were not your own doing, as well as being the impact of a crime." Thomas looked at Richard, who gave him a confused glance. They were thinking the same thing he reckoned; the fees had been paid already. "However, when I telephoned the hospital in York we were rather surprised to find out that your fees were paid in full, by an anonymous source no less. Whilst it was a kind gesture to you, as an afterthought, we were concerned that whoever this source was that they may have further motives. I thought it best to bring the matter to you both privately."

Richard pushed himself up slowly on his hands so he could sit upright. He rubbed the back of his neck, an action Thomas recognised as one Richard did when he was unsure about something, as he glimpsed a look of caution to him. "I am grateful for your kind gesture M'Lady, and I hope you can pass this on to His Lordship as well, but Mr Barrow and myself are aware that my costs have already been covered. My parents, who visited me whilst I was being treated there, found out about this. It was unexpected and somewhat of a mystery but..." Thomas nodded, as he knew what Richard was going to say next. "...whilst we cannot be certain yet, we have talked about this and we have a fairly good idea of who is behind it, M'Lady. I hope you don't mind if I don't reveal their identity?"

"He wished to remain anonymous Mr Ellis, so no I don't."

"But I will tell you that I can be sure that this person's intentions are honorable. I trust them. We are still guessing as to the identity, yes, but he left a large donation to the hospital too, and this is a signature move from him."

"Well that is reassuring Mr Ellis. We could see if we could dig a little deeper, and confirm his identity though?" Lady Mary suggested, as Thomas realised Richard had referred to the mystery donor as 'he'.

"That is kind of you M'Lady, but we expect to find out for sure very soon," Thomas added, hopefully not too mysteriously.

Lady Mary did narrow her eyes at him for a second, but must have decided to spare him further questioning. "Very well Barrow. I am glad we got this matter settled easily." She stood, smoothing out her skirt. "We won't disturb you any longer. Thank you for letting us visit."

Thomas stood and noticed how Richard, after years in service himself, instinctively shuffled as though he was about to jump out of bed himself. "Not at all M'Lady. We are grateful for your concern."

"We are, and it was generous of you to visit as well Master George," Richard politely addressed the boy who had tied his shoelace back up and stroked Wilde one last time.

"We hope to see you back to your usual self soon Mr Ellis," Lady Mary added before nodding goodbye.

"I'll see you out M'lady." He held open the door for them both, closing it slightly as he smiled at Richard who gleamed back at him.

...

"I should be leaving soon." Thomas pushed the chair back into its usual position in the bedroom. "I'll be expected back in the afternoon. Mr Talbot has visitors arriving later on. You'll be fine on your own for a bit? Or I can wait until Chris comes back from lunch?" He glanced at the time on the bedside clock. "He's a bit late."

"You go Thomas, I'll be fine. I am not entirely helpless, you know?" Richard quipped.

He knelt down on the floor and reached under the bed to retrieve the empty hot chocolate mug, groaning a little with effort as he stretched out his arm to reach it. In George and Wilde's playtime earlier it must have been pushed further under the bed. "I fuss too much over you don't I? Tell me if I'm being annoying please?" He sat up, remaining on his knees at the edge of the bed.

"You're not Mr Barrow. It's nice, and I know you mean well. Chris fusses over me too, but not in the way that you do of course!"

Thomas chuckled. "Well I'm glad to hear it!"

"Chris is probably out with David, he'll be back soon, once he can bring his thoughts away from David and back to his job," Richard jested. "You know Thomas, a thought just occurred to me. Lady Mary has no idea that the anonymous donor is closer to her than she relaises."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when Larry first came to Downton to find me, he came under the pretense of visiting her husband Henry Talbot. They met at a car show or something I think, so she has met him before. Funny that, but she shouldn't ever figure it out I reckon."

"Larry would love the coincidence, and the fact that people would talk about him," Thomas mocked. "But maybe it's best if they don't know that you're friends with a wealthy man, they might see it as a blurring of the social divide so to speak. We are sure it's him though?"

"Of course it is Thomas!" Richard batted his hand playfully. "As I said, this move has Larry written all over it, but I would like to ask him all the same."