I hope that you've managed to read chapter 4 before this latest update. The change in how email notifications work is certainly confusing me as to where I am with certain tales. Hope you enjoy this next installment…
"3. Look for a Strong, Tame Man, a Fire-lighter, Coal-getter, Window Cleaner, and Yard Swiller."
From 'Advice on Marriage to Young Ladies' by 'A Suffragette Wife,' 1918
"Mrs Hughes," Anna called from the top of the servant's staircase to the housekeeper who was a flight below, "Her Ladyship is asking for us in the Morning Room."
Elsie, who'd paused at the sound of her name, looked up and, giving the slightest nod of comprehension, turned on her heel and commenced her ascent.
"Miss Baxter is already there," Anna added as she was joined in the landing, both passing one behind the other through the plain wooden door that exited into the Great Hall.
"Did she say what it was she wanted us for?" Elsie asked as they traversed the length of the ornately decorated atrium, the light pouring in through the glass ceiling.
Anna shook her head, "No, but it can't be good, can it? If all three of us are needed."
"We can't know that," Elsie admonished gently, it having the desired effect that Anna offered no further comment.
It hadn't always been the case that the room to which they'd been summoned was used so frequently after breakfast as it seemed to be of late. Over the years routines and habits had altered amongst the family despite immediate appearances. As Countess, the Dowager had approached the early part of the day quite differently as compared to the current holder of the title. And now, with Lady Edith long since departed to Brancaster, Tom now content at Brampton, and Mary very much in control of the day-to-day, things had shifted once more. The Abbey was perhaps quieter than it ever had been before which, Anna considered, allowed for both the Earl and Countess to live much more as they would wish and likely more contentedly at that. She hung back as her elder knocked on the broad oak door and then, on hearing the quiet permission to enter, they both stepped through into the airy space beyond.
They found her Ladyship where they expected, seated on the settee with her familiar regal elegance that sat well against the delicate floral print of the cushioned fabric. As the main feature in the room it brought a touch of the outside in, the view of the Abbey grounds that were visible through the tall window reflected in the gilded mirror which, hung on the opposite wall, matched it for its size. However, the unsurprising position of their mistress was somewhat countered by the sight of Miss Baxter sitting alongside her, a modest amount of space left in between but one that clearly did not alleviate the level of discomfort shown by the latter at finding herself in such proximity. Anna supposed it was the casualness of it all that posed the real problem given the usual degree of intimacy demanded between a Lady and her maid.
"Ah, Mrs Hughes, Anna," her Ladyship said with a smile, "Do come in and make yourselves comfortable," indicating with a refined swish of her hand that they should take the two armchairs positioned opposite. "I was just remarking to Miss Baxter at how I've likely worried you all with me summoning you all here, but please do not fret. It is nothing sinister, I assure you."
Her gentle laugh garnered a similar response, helpfully masking the sighs of relief that simultaneously escaped from all three of them. They sat in polite repose waiting for the reason for their summons to be made known, and if any were further surprised when the door opened and a tea tray arrived carried by Mr Carson, then they buried it well.
Anna cast her gaze between him and his wife, picking up just the faintest hint of communication between them, a questioning raise of eyebrows telling her what she already knew, that this was yet another first, another notch of the continuing path to informality between the upstairs and the down.
"Thank you, Carson. I'm sure Mrs Hughes will be happy to serve us," her Ladyship said as the butler gave the slightest hesitation as to what was expected.
"Very good, my Lady," he replied and exited quietly from the room.
Elsie stood and began the process, a drop of milk added to each cup first, a minute of time bought in order to ensure the leaves had had sufficient time to brew before she lifted the silver plated pot and poured. A gentle clink as each was then stirred and gently passed to each in turn, the hierarchy respected, save for herself who took hers last before returning to her chair. And as they drew the china rims to their lips, the explanation as to why they were there commenced.
Charles stood outside the closed door for a minute, his mind reeling at what he'd just witnessed. That one of them might be invited to take tea was one thing, it had been known after all, when someone had bad news to break or there was an occasion to celebrate, but three? And that particular three? And Miss Baxter on the same settee! It was surely without precedent, he commented to himself. Pushing aside the unsettled feeling that had bubbled up he crossed the hall and entered the Library in search of the one person left who might possibly be able to share in his disquiet. He hid his pleasure to discover the man in question, half leaning against the back of one the winged chairs, stick over his forearm as he browsed through the book in his hands.
"Ah, Mr Bates," he said in greeting.
"Mr Carson," replied John with a nod, straightening as he turned his attention away from the shelves. "I was just returning a few titles for his Lordship," he offered in explanation, " And selecting one for myself," his eyes nodding to that in his grasp. "I'm not needed, am I?"
"No, no," Charles assured him, a little pause as he selected his words, "But I did wonder whether you could shine a light as to what was taking place in the Morning Room. Anna hasn't mentioned anything to you, has she? Or his Lordship even?"
Bates frowned in reply, "No, nothing. Why? What is happening?
"I'm not entirely sure," Charles said darkly.
The two men stood awkwardly, both uncertain as to where to direct the conversation next, but in the end it was John who spoke.
"It's not my business, Mr Carson," he started calmly, "We're both men of the word, neither prone to outward emotion or sudden confessions, but if there was anything troubling you..." tailing off as Charles' visibly bristled.
"Such as, Mr Bates?" he retorted in what Charles felt was about as measured a tone as he could be reasonably expected to muster given the implication.
"It's not always easy for us to discuss how we might feel," John silent for half a beat before adding deliberately, "Even with our own wives."
Charles contemplated this, his focus shifting to the room beyond them, the thousands of books with their smart leather and cloth spines in regimental lines, the polished antique furniture gleaming in the light that shone brightly as midday approached. It was hardly the place for confidences between servants, he thought, and yet the setting did inspire a strength of character that was harder to garner below stairs.
"I appreciate that, Mr Bates," he replied at length, "Truly. But you can assure Anna that I have resolved to break my silence with Mrs Hughes so she needn't worry on that score."
"She cares for you both," John offered in reply.
"As we do for her," Charles conceded with a distinguished bob of the head, "But let us leave it there before we go beyond the point at which we are both utterly uncomfortable," both men joining the other in a convivial chuckle of agreement, "Besides we have work to do, do we not?"
"Yes, Mr Carson," John consented, "As ever, we do."
The air hung heavily with expectation as Lady Cora concluded her speech, the sharing of the thoughts and plans that they were all, it seemed, to play such a critical role in. Phyllis shifted awkwardly in her seat, Elsie feigned a control of her emotions that belied her true feelings, and Anna, who usually quite at ease with the friendly terms on why she often found herself with the family, found herself unusually hesitant.
"Of course if you'd rather not," her Ladyship commented at their silence, "I'd completely understand. I know it means rearranging things quite a bit, but it would mean so much."
"No, my Lady," said Elsie, quickly speaking up, "No, it's a lovely idea. I think we're all just a little overwhelmed at being asked to be part of it."
"You must know that Lady Sybil was dear to us all, your Ladyship," Anna interjected, giggling as she added, "And you're right that there are so many stories we must have between us. The bright red bows she used to tie around Isis' neck on Christmas Day…" she began.
"The day she got her shoe stuck in the grate in the yard trying to prove to Thomas that she'd grown enough not to have to walk around it," Elsie chuckled, encouraged by Anna's start.
"Or when I found her hiding in Lady Mary's cupboard trying to escape from Nanny," Anna laughed, "She couldn't seem to open the door from the inside so had started trying on her dresses to pass the time, waiting to be discovered. That caused a row later when her sister found out."
"Or the trousers she 'borrowed' from the Jackson's boy so she wouldn't tear her skirts when she climbed the cedar tree pretending to be a pirate spying on us all from the crows nest," Elsie recounted, gasping for air to calm her growing chortles.
Lady Cora clapped her hands in glee, "You see! This is exactly why you ladies are so perfect! You remember things that I can't, or that perhaps I never knew and I want Sybbie to know them, to know her mother."
Regaining control over their delights at their shared common purpose, they went on to spend a few minutes agreeing the arrangements between them; Phyllis agreeing to arrange for the necklace to be cleaned and finding a way of presenting it properly, Anna happy to talk with Mrs Patmore about the luncheon and extend the invitation to join them, and Elsie taking on the larger task of liaising with her counterparts at Brancaster and Brampton to ensure that all the ladies of the family would be in attendance.
They were almost done when a curt knock interpreted them, Andy appearing to notify her Ladyship that her that the chair of W.I. had arrived and had been given tea in the Library whilst she waited. Thanking him Lady Cora stood, indicating that the conversation was concluded. But as the three servants made their way from the room, Elsie stopped and turned back, catching the eye of her mistress.
"I can't quite believe she's been gone ten years, my Lady. It seems like no time at all," she said softly, her voice heavy with a melancholy that came to her only fleetingly now.
Lady Cora gave a small smile of understanding. "And yet it was all a lifetime ago," she mused sadly, "I want to give Sybbie this," she repeated, "Tom has proven himself to be a fine father but I want her to have something of her Mama that only we can give her."
"And so we shall, My Lady," Elsie assured as she turned to leave once more, "You can be sure of it."