The room was encased in darkness save for the lamp light that spilled over her desk illuminating pile after pile of receipts. Elsie hadn't meant to start this particular job this evening. It wasn't one to tackle so late in the day as it required all of one's concentration, added to which she'd wanted to do so with Miss Baxter, another task that she felt the already capable lady's maid was ready to embrace and, whilst Her Ladyship hadn't quite decided who she would offer the role of housekeeper to once Elsie finally retired, the frontrunner was obvious. But when she'd felt forced to find a reason to stay behind, to avoid accompanying him home, to put off a confrontation she knew was coming, this had simply been the first thing that had sprung to mind.

Elsie lifted an invoice from the top of the nearest pile. She'd spent the first hour sorting them, first by month and then by supplier. Now came the arduous job of checking they'd been entered correctly into the accounts. The firm in London would be wanting the ledger for auditing before too long and she was determined that they'd find no errors in her bookkeeping. Held between finger and thumb the requisition for a new headboard for Master George, one that had been deemed necessary after the last had fallen foul of a raucous game of some sort or other, barely registered as her head began to spin. It had been weeks now and still she was utterly consumed with thoughts of him, thoughts that she couldn't shake herself free from no matter what she tried. And the worst of it was that he didn't even know.

The creak of the door and the light suddenly flooding her sitting room woke her from her reverie, a halo of blonde the only clue as to who had thought to disturb her.

"Mrs Hughes," Anna pleaded softly, "I don't know what's going on, and I won't probe, but it won't be solved with you up here and him down there."

She didn't pretend not to understand the girl's meaning. "When did you get so wise?" Elsie asked with a wry smile. "But wise you are."

Pushing back her chair and standing, she cast her eye over the mess and resolved to deal with it in the morning. She switched off the light and moved to where Anna stood in the doorway, blinking a little as her eyes adjusted to the harsher lighting. Together they made their way to the back door, donning their coats and hats as they passed the coat pegs, and pulling the door closed behind them began to cross the yard.

"Did Mr Bates leave already?" Elsie asked, belatedly noting his absence.

Anna nodded, "Lady Mary needed me longer than I expected and so he went ahead. I hope he'll have the fire going by now. It's still chilly in the evenings, isn't it?"

Elsie expressed her agreement and tried to listen as Anna continued her chatter, but her mind only wandered again. Would Charles have the fire going, waiting up for her return? Or would he have retired, his back turned as it had been for several nights now, the sheets on her side of the bed left cold and undisturbed? They'd been a time when he'd have warmed them for her but not of late.

Suddenly she was aware of Anna laughing, "Mrs Hughes, you haven't heard a word I've said! You were away with the fairies."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she sighed, "I've a lot on my mind just now. What were you saying?"

"Only that I hope that Miss Baxter is doing better. Her and Mr Moseley have been struggling, I think," Anna said, pausing as her brow knitted in concern. "Marriage isn't easy," she lamented.

"No," breathed Elsie, "It isn't. Makes you wonder why we bother sometimes."

Anna stopped short. "You can't mean that?" she exclaimed. "You and Mr Carson are, I mean, you're just so..." tailing off, unsure whether to continue.

"Yes, of course," Elsie corrected, realising she'd said too much and yet, she thought, hardly enough. "Ignore me."

The two women smiled faintly towards one another and continued their walk down the main drive and through the large gates that separated the grounds from the rolling hills of the wider estate. In a few yards they'd be forced to part, their cottages being in quite different directions but neither seemingly ready to say goodnight.

"Mrs Hughes," Anna began, "I hope you know that you can talk to me, should you need to. We're not quite friends, I realise, but me and Mr Bates, well, we've had our struggles."

Elsie smiled and reached out to pat her companion's arm, "You're kind girl, Anna Bates. But you see, it's all so tricky with Mr Carson. I'm not sure I could even tell you what the trouble really is."

They stood a few moments longer before giving their adieu, Elsie watching as Anna hurried away, the buckles of her shoes catching the moonlight as it broke momentarily through a cloud. But as the sky darkened again she'd faded into the black and Elsie was quite alone.


Charles heard his wife long before she appeared in their room. The sounds of her coming were all so familiar, the soft close of the front door, three paces to the where she'd remove her shoes and then the terminal squeak of the hall cupboard where they'd be neatly stowed, then silence as stockinged feet moved across carpet and bare wood floors. If she'd gone into the kitchen then he'd hear the tap as she fetched herself a glass of water, but a groan of the old wood of the stairs would indicate she was on her way up. He had a quick decision to make, to feign sleep or not and, as the deadened noise of her ascent echoed up to where he lay, he opted to remain as he was.

"Oh, you're awake," Elsie remarked in surprise as she entered their room.

Seeing no call to reply, he simply nodded, his eyes returning to the book that lay heavily in his lap. Not that he'd really been reading it, the dense subject matter having proven too much to take it at thisate hour of the day.

"Did you get it all done?" he asked, his gaze flicking over to where she'd sat on the edge of the bed and saw as her shoulders slumped, her hand rising to pinch the bridge of her nose.

"I lied," she said, taking a deep breath.

"What?" he asked, his body jolting with surprise, causing the book to slide from the bed and crash to the floor. "What about?"

Elsie turned to face him. She looked tired, wholly worn out which, he thought, shouldn't have surprised him, given the last few days.

"I lied about needing to work," she said simply. "I was just putting you off."

She leant over to her pillow and withdrew her nightdress from where it had been carefully folded and stowed that morning. Standing, she began to undress, her fingers making swift work of the buttons at the top of her dress then moving to undo the zip at the side. A month ago, the sight would have been a little thrilling, even after five years of marriage her body still delighted him, but instead he cast his eyes away and instead focused on picking up the book and placing it on the bedside table. His overexaggerated move to plump up his pillows acted as a helpful distraction as her undergarments were removed and the soft cotton fabric was slipped over her head and pulled down to cover her curves. He smirked at his realisation that he didn't really need to watch, he'd had it all committed to memory for quite some time.

Charles settled down under the covers, his eyes unconsciously closing as he lay on his back and sleep beckoned. He felt the mattress shift as she climbed in beside him, the lamp clicked off as she too made herself comfortable.

"Are you ever going to talk to me about it?" she asked into the darkness.

He opened his eyes but didn't move.

"Will you listen?" he asked in return, his voice low and steady, "Or will the affairs of Mr Daniels prevent you from having the time?"

He heard her sharp intake of breath followed by a half-whispered response. "That's not fair," she said, her voice cracking.

"No," he admitted, "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

He reached out a hand and found hers, his relief palpable when she didn't pull away. He paused to steel himself, to summon the courage that she needed from him.

"I will talk to you, Elsie, I will. It's just..." stopping as he felt her hand squeeze his, her half whispered words across the invisible divide between them.

"That's all I need to hear, Charlie. For now, it's enough."


Sorry for the delay in posting. Busy week! I love receiving your reviews and thoughts on what's unfolding for our lovely downstairs crew. I honestly don't set out to be so mysterious! Maybe it's just that I don't know what's going to happen yet either ;-)

But for clarity (by which I mean for my own sake), the Bates' married in 1919 (so 11 years prior to all this), the Carson's in 1925 (five years ago) and the Baxter's, I've assumed, early 1929. Basically they're all married because (essentially) all you need to do to find the love of your life is live in or near Downton Abbey. It's that simple, it seems!