During the whirlwind of activity surrounding the visit of the movie company and Joseph's surprise proposal, it had been decided that Phyllis Baxter would continue her duties as Lady's Maid after her marriage.
The person who made this decision was in fact, Phyllis herself.
Once faced with the prospect of surrendering her care of Lady Grantham to another, Mrs. Baxter Molesley found she was reluctant to let go.
Joseph, she found, felt the same way about teaching and decided he wasn't quite ready to abandon that, either. He carried on, adding the role of screenwriter as well.
It was in this fashion that Joseph and Phyllis Molesley, after a brief honeymoon, began their new and different lives.
Lady Grantham, dealing with her recent diagnosis and the passing of her mother-in-law, was secretly overjoyed that Phyllis would continue to be a constant in her life.
To show her appreciation, she decreed Lord Grantham perfectly capable of assisting her in undressing for bed. This meant Phyllis was dismissed after dressing her ladyship for dinner, which left plenty of time to spend of an evening with Joe.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks quickly turned into months. It was the happiest Phyllis had ever been.
ooo
He had reached for her that morning, in the dark, early hours when the sun isn't quite up. Joseph often did this, his years in service conditioning his body for the four a.m. alarm.
Phyllis lived for these moments, the very thought that upon waking Joseph's first thought was joining with her, loving her, needing her. It was quite intoxicating, and Phyllis never refused his attentions.
Truth be told, Phyllis wanted Joseph just as badly as he wanted her.
Spooning her, gentle as always, Joseph brushed the hair from the back of her neck and settled his mouth there, kissing and gently sucking on the sensitive area. Phyllis woke to this pleasant sensation, stretching a bit and grinding her bottom into his pelvis where it rested against her.
"Mmmm, Joseph." She said breathily, shivering a bit under his mouth.
"Good morning my love."
Arousal swamped Phyllis, surprising her with its intensity. It was always good with Joseph, his complete and utter dedication to his wife ensuring Phyllis was never left unsatisfied.
Her gown came off, both of them pushing and pulling, and Phyllis sighed with relief as the cool air wafted over her skin. Joseph traveled down her body, not stopping until he was between her legs.
"Please, please." She said, the urgency in her voice surprising them both.
Happy to oblige, Joseph parted her, using his mouth and tongue to drive her mad.
Phyllis's hand came down, landing on the top of Joseph's scalp, urging him with her touch to the places she needed.
It was superfluous, as there was nothing Joseph Molesley was as well versed in as his wife's body. He already knew all of the places that made her shiver and shake, the areas that would make her moan or gasp with delight.
She came with a shout, the strength of it making sparks flash before her eyes.
Joseph moved quickly up her body, feeding his length into her still quaking center.
"Oh, God Phyllis," he breathed, as an aftershock went through her, making her muscles clench around him.
"Mmmmm," she moaned, incapable of both feeling and speaking at the same time.
Joseph began moving, the bed creaking slightly with the motion.
Phyllis felt frantic, her body boiling, her insides curling with need.
"Harder," she gasped, reaching down to clasp the backs of his thighs. "I need it harder,"
Thrusting in earnest now, Joseph gave his wife exactly what she needed, continuing until he felt her spasm underneath him.
Letting himself go, he found his own release and then collapsed, chest heaving.
"My god, you're amazing." Her husband said, falling back on his pillow with a sigh. "I'll need a nap after that."
Phyllis grinned, deciding a few moments of snuggling wouldn't make her too late for work.
"Oof, Joseph Molesley, you're like a furnace." Phyllis said only five minutes later, wiggling to free herself of the bedcovers as she rolled away from her husband and shot upward out of the bed.
Ignoring her retreat from the mattress, Joe buried his head under the quilts, content to grab a few more minutes before he himself needed to be up and about.
Peeling her sticky nightdress from her skin, Phyllis washed and dressed before heading out to begin her walk to the big house.
Filling her lungs with the crisp, cool air, Phyllis hurried along the path to the Abbey.
She enjoyed her morning walks, the day peeking through the clouds and making itself known as the moon lowered and the sun rose. Everything was fresh, new, and clean, giving Phyllis the feeling that anything was possible.
There was a couple by the door in the courtyard, the slight statures of both giving them away. It was the Masons, Phyllis recognized, bidding each other goodbye before beginning work for the day. She slowed her pace a bit, not wanting to cut their time short.
Stealing a glance, she saw Mrs. Mason, nee Patmore, holding Mr. Mason's cheeks in her hands, pulling his face down for a substantial kiss before releasing him.
For all her bluster and quick temper, the tender care the fiery cook showed her new husband was a source of amusement for all who knew her.
It touched Phyllis, the love between the two, making her think back to her own loving husband, whom she had left snoring in the covers. Not that his rest was undeserved, as he had definitely earned it with all the work he put in earlier.
Blushing, her cheeks warming at memories of her own wild behavior, Phyllis had to shake her head and get herself on task. She was scattered all over the place, it seemed.
Exchanging good mornings with Mr. Mason, she opened the door to the Abbey kitchen to begin her day.
ooo
"Thank you, Baxter."
Lady Grantham sighed a contented sigh as her breakfast tray was placed in front of her, Phyllis making sure it went in the proper position.
"You're welcome, milady. Is there anything else…?"
Warm steam from the scrambled eggs wafted upwards, the smell of which did horrible things to Phyllis's stomach. Clapping a hand over her mouth, Phyllis broke to run to the lavatory right off her ladyship's bedroom. Making it just in time, Phyllis heaved the tea and toast she had ingested at breakfast.
Shaking, weak and a little dizzy, Phyllis turned to see Cora standing behind her, sympathy in her eyes.
"Oh, your Ladyship!" she said, embarrassed to be caught in such a position.
"I apologize! I don't know what came over me."
Grabbing a cloth, Cora and ran it under the tap before handing it to Phyllis and motioning her to sit on the lid of the toilet.
Doing so, Phyllis weakly mopped at her mouth and face, trying to stop the hot tears that were gathering in the corner of her eyes.
To her utter mortification, Lord Grantham popped his head in at just that moment, becoming worried when he saw the full breakfast tray.
"What's this?" he said, noticing a pale Phyllis struggling to stand in his presence.
"No, don't get up, Baxter. Is everything quite alright?"
Smiling slightly, Cora turned a meaningful look upon her husband.
"Baxter became quite unwell when she got a whiff of my breakfast. Specifically, the scrambled eggs."
Nodding, Lord Grantham answered sympathetically. "Eggs, was it? If I remember correctly, that's what it was for you. Well good on Molesley, I say!"
"What?" Phyllis said bluntly, her absolute confusion making all of her training fall away.
"I beg your pardon…" she said, shaking her head slightly. "What I mean is…what?"
The moment understanding dawned was remarkable to all present, for Phyllis's cheeks turned a striking shade of burgundy.
"Oh dear," Robert said, giving his wife a speaking glance, which caused her smile to grow bigger.
"I believe I'm needed in the…in any room that isn't this one. Good day, Baxter, do feel better." Stooping to place a kiss on his wife's cheek, Lord Grantham then hurried to exit.
ooo
Phyllis had recovered slightly by the time Lady Grantham was fed and dressed, though her embarrassment hadn't faded in the least.
Her Ladyship seemed to find amusement in the whole situation and wouldn't let go of the idea that Baxter could be pregnant.
"You go see Dr. Clarkson, right now, Baxter. I'll see you back at dinner."
"I appreciate that, milady, but..."
Cora insisted, though, and before Phyllis knew it she was sitting in Dr. Clarkson's waiting room.
The very thought was ridiculous, she told herself firmly. She was 46 years old, and women of 46 didn't conceive children. Especially for the first time.
Imagine becoming pregnant at the age of 46 with your very first child. Being a new mother when you should be a grandmother.
Phyllis hadn't even had a cycle for months, her courses spread out so thin by this time she often forgot about them. They hadn't been reliable for years, and she considered herself finished with the whole mess.
Unless she wasn't.
No. Phyllis squashed that thought before it had time to take root. She and Joseph had a beautiful life, to hope for more would be arrogant. They needn't worry about money, his profits from the writing setting them up to be comfortable for a lifetime.
They had their health, a home, friends, and fulfilling work. It was enough. It had to be enough.
"Mrs. Molesley?" Dr. Clarkson called her in, holding the door open for her.
Settled in his office, Phyllis was surprised when a nurse appeared at her side, a cup of tea steaming on a tray.
"It's been well sugared, ma'am." The girl said, a soft smile on her face.
Accepting the cup with a nod, Phyllis gratefully took a drink.
The liquid was warm and sweet, and helped soothe her vomit burned throat. It was bracing, she had to admit, and wondered how many times Dr. Clarkson had been in this situation to know what to do to help.
Before she could ask, he raised a hand.
"Lady Grantham called to warn me about what occurred this morning. She was worried for you."
Words all rushed to the front of Phyllis's mind and then halted, her conflicting feelings making her unsure. Finally, she settled with a safe, "That's very kind."
Not unsympathetic, Dr. Clarkson kept his voice kind and gentle.
"I take it your courses aren't regular, Mrs. Molesley?"
Phyllis was mortified to even be speaking of such things out loud, but she managed to stammer out an answer.
"Nn..no. Not for a year or more. But I'm sure this is a mistake."
Clarkson merely smiled, then directed her to undress so he could examine her.
"Any soreness of your breasts, Mrs. Molesley?"
Of course not, Phyllis wanted to say, then her mind recalled the past several weeks. Her brassiere had been extra snug, the fabric in the cups chaffing her nipples. Phyllis had just thought…well, she hadn't, really. She had simply written it off as a normal ache and went on.
"Yes, now that you mention it."
"Any nausea other than this morning? Any aversion to foods?"
Phyllis thought back, noting that she hadn't been eating nearly as much at meals due to her upset tummy, then later raiding the biscuit tin. Even Joseph had commented on it, teasing her as she walked through the house with a bowl full of biscuits to have with their tea.
"Well, I…yes."
"Hm." The doctor answered, his fingers pressing and searching on her abdomen.
Moving between her knees, the doctor began an internal examination, seemingly trying to touch his fingers inside and his fingers on the top together. Phyllis seemed to notice the bulge in her abdomen the same time Dr. Clarkson did.
"Oh my god." She said softly, her hand coming up to cover her eyes.
Completing the exam, Dr. Clarkson covered her lower half up with the sheet and stepped back.
"It's alright, Mrs. Molesley."
"How did I not know, Dr. Clarkson?"
Helping her to sit up, Clarkson once again smiled kindly.
"Because you weren't looking for it, Mrs. Molesley. I have a feeling that had Lady Grantham not pointed it out the possibility of pregnancy to you this morning, you wouldn't have considered it until the baby made an appearance."
Phyllis felt deflated, full of shame and horrified at her own ignorance. But most of all, Phyllis was frightened.
"But…it can't possibly be…be alright, can it Dr. Clarkson?"
"I see no reason why not, Mrs. Molesley. We will keep a close eye on your diet and your blood pressure, and of course there are the normal risks or pregnancy. But I see nothing alarming."
A knock on the door surprised them both, followed shortly by the familiar face of Joseph.
"I went to the house to speak to you, and Mrs. Hughes told me where you were. I was worried."
Relieved beyond words to see him, Phyllis simply held her arms out to her husband. Rushing to her side, Molesley dropped his hat in a hurry to hold his wife.
"Oh my God, Dr. Clarkson, is she ill?" Molesley said, all the color draining from his face as he held his precious wife close.
To his surprise, Dr. Clarkson smiled, shaking his head slowly.
"Not ill, exactly, no. But Mrs. Molesley has had a bit of a shock. You might want to take her home for some rest. Actually," Clarkson said, a sparkle in his eye as he faced the pair, "You both might want to have a rest while you still can. The next four months will pass quickly."
ooo
Four years later…
"Cawson!" Josie Molesley shouted, announcing her presence to her best and most giant friend, Mr. Carson, as she spotted him in the flower garden outside of his cottage.
"Why Miss Josie, how lovely to see you this morning." Carson said, bowing to the girl, ever the gentleman.
They had a standing appointment, he and Josie, every Tuesday and Friday morning. Carson would walk her around the garden while she peppered him with questions, then they had lunch together.
Both parties enjoyed their visits very much, and Mrs. Hughes had even commented on how much Mr. Carson anticipated his time with his 'bonny little lass.'
"Josephine," Phyllis called, smiling as she watched her petite daughter standing next to the very large Butler.
"You be good for Mr. Carson."
"Yes, mummy. I will." Josie nodded, making her dark braids bounce up and down with the movement.
Waving a final goodbye to her daughter, Phyllis turned, her steps carrying her towards the Abbey. Taking a deep breath of the crisp, clean air into her lungs, Phyllis Baxter Molesley turned her face to the sun and smiled.