Hello dear readers.

Chapter three arrives a day early. I hope you enjoy it.

I thank Pixie, the best beta in the world.

Thanks to SerpySnape who previewed the French chapters.

Thanks to you for the welcome you gave to the first two chapters.

Comforting you

1900

The house was in mourning, the sixth Earl of Grantham had passed away in the night.

Mr. Carson announced the news in the servants' hall, his body at attention, his gaze far ahead, his fists clenched, his voice clear, he demanded silence, explained in a sombre voice that no misbehaviour would be tolerated, that the piano was forbidden until further notice, and he retired to his study. Elsie stood by his side as he broke the news to them, she saw him tense and wished she could have held him back as she watched him walk away but she did not. If he needed to be alone, she would respect his choice. While she waited for a moment with him, she asked the maids to sew black armbands for all the servants as soon as possible.

oOo

She knew he was not well, she would have liked to see him, to be with him to let him vent a little, to be with him to support him in his pain. She knew his attachment to the family, she saw them as employers, good and generous employers but nothing more, he considered them as his family and his devotion went far beyond the duties of a butler.

The funeral had taken place five days later and since the Earl's death, Carson had been doing his job as butler perfectly as usual, the only difference was that he had not sought her presence.

So for five days she had been waiting for him to knock on her parlour door in the evening, but he had not come, except to tell her that he had finished his shift, and she was worried about that.

oOo

Since the end of the ceremony, the staff had been on a war footing. The reception was quiet but crowded. The death of an earl drew a crowd. Carson was giving of himself, he was doing the work of three valets as well as his butler duties, he needed to be everywhere. He grumbled at his footmen, who he found too soft, and undignified.

In the evening, when the guests had gone and Lady Violet had retired to her room looking exhausted, and after he had served Mr. Robert Crawley, the seventh, the new Earl of Grantham, Charles withdrew and went out for some fresh air.

He felt as if he were suffocating in his livery, so he untied his tie and undid his collar, took off his jacket and stepped into the darkness so that he would not be seen to be so slovenly. He was sad, the Earl of Grantham was the one who had trusted him when he had wanted to return to service after spending two years on stage, he had hired Charles promising not to divulge his past. He had been amused to take on this young, stuffy-looking entertainer.

He had been interviewed by Mr. Collins, his predecessor, but it was really Mr. Crawley who made the difference. Since then they had built up a strong bond of trust. He had quickly proved himself as a second footman, then moved up the ranks as Mr. Robert Crawley's personal valet, before finally being appointed butler by the Earl himself. Charles was so proud of this.

His pain couldn't come out, he didn't really know what he was felling but he felt it would do him good, that he needed to... He didn't know. Cry? Scream? Strike something? The worst had been when Lady Mary had come to him in tears, the grief of losing her grandfather, the shock of being confronted with his remains, the obligation of having to place a kiss on a dead man's forehead, all of this was too much for the little nine-year-old girl.

He had taken the time to talk to her, offered her a sweet and she had gone back to her family with a straight face and a proud carriage.

Elsie knocked on his office door and opened it without waiting for an answer, but he wasn't there. The evening was over, perhaps he had already gone to bed? This was not like him, he always came to warn her when he went upstairs.

She returned to her small living room, grabbed her shawl which was hanging on her left, put it on her shoulders and went out the back door.

She took a few steps, she suspected he was there somewhere, she was frustrated not to find him. She might even have been angry at him for excluding her from his sentence. Were they not friends?

She walked towards the stables and when she got there she sighed with relief, she saw his solid figure, he was sitting on the stone bench just in front of the horse stalls. She walked towards him, she didn't want to disturb him but she wanted to make sure he didn't need anything.

"Forgive my intrusion, Mr. Carson, I thought perhaps you might need some company?"

She heard him sigh, she didn't know if it was from anger, fatigue or something else, but she waited for him to answer.

"It's true we've hardly seen each other these last few days Mrs. Hughes. How are you?"

She couldn't hold back the nervous laugh that escaped her, she saw him tense up and knew she had to make up for it if she didn't want him to chase her away.

"I should be asking you that question. How are you, Mr. Carson?"

He didn't answer, just looked up at the sky for a few seconds before sighing again.

"To be honest with you, I think I've had happier times. The last few days have not been easy... and, I don't know."

She nodded, she knew he wasn't well but he didn't dare tell her.

"The thing is, I don't know why... Do you know that Lady Mary came to me? She was in tears. "

"Oh, poor thing. I'm sure you were able to put a smile on her face. "

"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Hughes? "

He shifted on his bench to make room for her beside him. She knew he was finally in the mood to talk, so she joined him on his bench and waited for him to confide in her.

"Lady Mary is a brave little girl like her two sisters, but as soon as I see them crying, my heart can't handle anything. "

"Especially Lady Mary, isn't it, Mr. Carson?" she asked, smiling mischievously at him.

"Don't tease me tonight Mrs. Hughes, please. I'm not in the mood. I just don't like to see them sad, that's all. "

"And I don't like to see you sad, Mr. Carson. You've been working here a long time, I understand the attachment to family, but this is not your family. "

He sighed and muttered something she didn't understand and got up to walk away from her. She had made him angry and she was sorry.

"Forgive me Mr. Carson, I don't want to add to your pain, I was clumsy. "

"Twenty-five years! "

"I'm sorry? "

"I have worked here for twenty-five years, I arranged the marriage of His Lordship, who was then only Mr. Robert Crawley, I saw the birth of Lady Mary, Lady Edith and Lady Sybil. I advised Her Ladyship on how best to integrate when she arrived from the USA, I grew up here. His Lordship took me in when I came from... He gave me a chance. Now Lady Violet Crawley will probably move to a smaller cottage to live out her widowhood and leave the house to His Lordship's heir. I have been here for twenty-five years, and His Lordship's death just makes me say that..."

he sighed again, ran a hand over his face and returned to sit beside Elsie.

"What does that tell you, Mr. Carson? "

"That I haven't accomplished anything really important. I'm forty-five years old, and my life is slipping through my fingers. "

She turned abruptly to him, locked eyes with him, and despite the darkness he could see the intensity of the look she gave him.

"You will listen to me carefully, Mr. Carson, for I will not say it again, you are the pillar of this house, without you everything would fall apart. You are the one who gives this house all its letters of nobility, you bring the honour and seriousness for wich all English aristocracy envy us. Without you, the new Earl would be lost in his new position, his father may have educated him, but he needs you to run his house. Without you Lady Mary would have no one to take refuge in, without you the servants would certainly be less well trained and less worthy of working in a great house and without you I... I would be alone. You are too important to this house, to the family and to... me, Mr. Carson. So stop saying you haven't achieved anything, I won't let you! "

He just stood there looking at her, speechless. He did not answer her, but took the liberty of taking her hand and squeezing it.

They sat silently in the night when it began to rain. At first it was just a drizzle, as it often was in England, and they were sheltered by the leaves of a tree, so they stayed hand in hand, he needed to prolong the moment. Then the rain intensified and the tree was no longer enough, they were already soaked. Charles helped her up, kept her hand in his and they ran back to the house. They came home soaked and out of breath, they had let go of each other's hands when they got to the backyard.

"We need to dry off... "

"Do we? You are perceptive, Mr. Carson." He chuckled slightly as he rolled his eyes. She knew he'd asked her not to tease him tonight, but she couldn't help it. She left him dripping in the kitchen while she busied herself finding towels for them and handed one to Charles who had laid his jacket on a chair.

"I'm going to...um...I'm going to dry off and change in my office, if you'll excuse me, Mrs. Hughes. "

"Thank you for not doing it here, Mr. Carson."

She went off into her small sitting room to do the same as the butler. She knew very well that she would not have said anything if he had decided to remove his shirt in front of her. She could see the outline of his broad chest and strong arms under the wet fabric. She would have trouble falling asleep tonight... As she began to tremble, she finally hurried to dry off and went back to the kitchen to heat up some milk to make them some hot chocolate.

For his part, Charles dried off and changed as quickly as possible. There was always a full set of spare clothes in his office. When he entered the kitchen he froze at the image Elsie gave him. She was quite decently dressed but her hair was loose in a long braid that fell down the middle of her back along which a few drops of water were dripping, and as she stood on tiptoe to reach for the cocoa, her skirt lifted slightly and her ankles and calves were revealed, she was no longer wearing her stockings. He tried to look away but couldn't.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Carson? "

Elsie looked at him thoughtfully and was concerned, Charles cleared his throat before answering.

"Um... Everything's fine, thank you. And I see you made some hot chocolate? Perfect!"

He turned away from her and went to rummage in the storeroom, he had no idea what he was looking for but it gave him the opportunity to calm his troubled mind a little.

When he returned he found her still on her tiptoes trying to grab a metal box that was much too high for her. He watched her for a few seconds before he managed to take his eyes off her bare ankles again, so he reached around her and grabbed the box instead. She turned around, looking falsely annoyed.

"I could have done without your help, Mr. Carson. "

"Absolutely, Mrs. Hughes, you'll have found a way to make yourself eight inches taller with the snap of your fingers. "

"No, but I was going to use the stepladder that's just there. "

She pointed to the object in question, which was indeed just around the corner from them.

"A thank you for your help, Mr. Carson, would be appreciated, Mrs. Hughes."

He didn't move, they were so close together their bodies were almost brushing against each other. She swallowed, she thought he was handsome. She'd always thought he was handsome, but now, in a slightly more dishevelled outfit and with his hair not quite as neatly combed as usual, she thought he was really very handsome.

She looked him in the eye with a small smile.

"Stop looking down on me, Mr. Carson. "

"I'm not the one looking down, it was that box. And thanks to me, it's being modest again. "

She let out a laugh. She liked it when he felt comfortable enough with her to be humorous. And the fact that he was doing it now proved that he was feeling better.

She moved away from him to get the hot chocolate. She poured it into the two cups that were on the large servants' table and opened the metal box that Charles had gallantly grabbed for her and which contained shortbread, sat down at her appointed place and invited the butler to join her with a nod.

He came and sat at the end of the table, as usual, and they drank their hot drinks in comfortable silence.

When their cups were emptied, and they had eaten some biscuits, they remained for a while saying nothing to each other. Elsie felt a certain awkwardness between them, she had the impression that he wanted to say something to her without daring to do so. She eventually got up to go and wash the cups in the kitchen, giving him time to decide whether or not he would talk to her. She was surprised when she heard him enter the kitchen, and even saw him grab a tea towel and reach for the first cup, freshly washed and rinsed by Elsie.

The teaspoons were now dry, but he didn't move, still waiting by the housekeeper, then finally he decided:

"Did you really mean it? Did you mean what you said to me outside the stables? "

"I meant every word, Mr. Carson. "

They didn't look at each other, and Elsie thought that was why he had had the courage to go on:

"You know, you are important to me, Mrs. Hughes. We... Our friendship I mean. Our friendship is precious you know, and it makes me happy to have a friend here, by my side. And, well, um... Thank you for your support and for looking after me earlier. Thank you very much, Elsie."

He brought his hand to hers and slid his little finger against hers and she let him entwine their hands together. They stood there for a few moments, side by side, without looking at each other, and then he squeezed her hand tighter and stroked her wrist with his thumb before letting go, and then he wished her a good night and went to bed.

The walk to his room had seemed strangely short, he almost felt like he was floating, he was finally feeling better. The weight of the last few days had seemed to suffocate him, but Mrs. Hughes, Elsie, had arrived and she had brushed aside all his questions about what he had done with his life and his grief at having said goodbye to Lord Grantham had eased. He wondered for a moment if Elsie didn't have some Highland witch powers, he felt as if his hand, the one that had clasped the housekeeper's fingers was still full of Elsie's, he could still feel the warmth of the exchange, his thumb that had caressed her wrist almost tingling. He smiled to himself and called himself a fool. If Mrs. Hughes was a witch then he was Merlin himself. He was reacting like this simply because the friendship she offered him was good for him, she had managed to comfort him, give him some warmth, and thanks to her his ego was back in its proper place.

And even though he sometimes dreamed about her in a way that was not at all proper, he told himself that it was simply because they worked together, that they were close, that she was beautiful, sweet and made him laugh, and that he was only a man who did not often have the opportunity to have a woman like her in his arms. Again this year, during the London season, he will go to a brothel, pay more than he is asked to in order to make this unseemly attraction die. He already knows that as soon as he sees her again, his body will race and his dreams will begin again. And if he was honest with himself, it didn't bother him that much.

oOo

When he was out of her sight, she could release the air she didn't remember holding. She could feel the fire that had invaded her cheeks, her chest, her belly and everything else, still burning inside her. The hand he had taken in his hung sadly in the air, she would have liked to hold it, oh just one more moment. To feel his touch, his touch, his skin.

She blamed her desire on the fact that they had been working side by side for a long time, that they knew each other pretty well, that they were two lonely souls, that he was a handsome man and that he made her feel safe and that she hadn't been close to anyone for too long now and that she was only human. Her feelings were just an appeal to the sin of the flesh nothing more.

Her desire for him might subside at times, when he was away for several months in London for example, when she didn't see him anymore, her desire was dormant, but as soon as he was back it took over her whole body, it got under her skin and wouldn't let go, she even had dreams about it that sometimes made her wake up moaning as she arched her back between her sheets.

And if she was honest with herself, she really liked dreaming about him.

TBC...