Hello dear readers,

Today is a special day for me and on this special day I am sharing my favourite chapter of this story and I hope with all my heart that you will like it.

Apparently, ff doesn't send notifications to everyone, so I hope you can read this chapter.

Thanks to Pixie for her great work.

Thanks to you for your kind, encouraging and motivating reviews.

Blaming you

1903

That year Carson did not leave for London. Mr. Levinson, Cora's father, died suddenly a few days before the season began, and Mr. and Mrs. Crawley left for the United States overnight, while the three young ladies would stay with their tutor and Lady Rosamund would take them home in a few days. Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson had arranged the journey, the luggage, the picnic baskets for them. They had given their final recommendations to Mr. Watson and Miss. O'Brien, the servants who would accompany the Crawleys to America, on the landing of the house. Then they had stood side by side while they watched the carriages drive away from the house.

"Well, Mrs. Hughes, it is a very hasty journey. I hope they can get on board today. "

"Oh don't worry, Mr. Carson, His Lordship will pull all the strings he needs to secure them both a first class cabin. "

"Mmmm, maybe so, I hope so. What will you do while they are away? "

"As always, clean the house from top to bottom, give the valets and housemaids a break and myself a break too. It's going to be a particularly hot season. Well, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Carson, I have a big day ahead of me"

He nodded, and watched her walk away. She was right, he too had to get to work before the young servants thought they were on holiday.

oOo

A few days later

"Mrs. Hughes, can you explain to me why the footmen are walking around the house in such skimpy clothes to do their work? "

"Why not ask them directly, Mr. Carson?"

He had stormed into her small sitting room not even bothering to knock, she was then bent over the account book to finalise, when she had startled at his rather abrupt entrance and made an ink stain in her notebook. She was really hot, and the heat was getting on her nerves so to see him barge in like that, and to hear him speak to her in that tone of voice made her even more upset.

"I asked them to put on decent clothes and they informed me that it was you who gave them permission to work so undressed. "

"I never gave them permission to work undressed, Mr. Carson. But we ask them to work hard while the family is away in unusually hot weather. Young David fainted. So yes, Mr. Carson, when I heard about this and saw the state they were in, I did take the initiative to allow them to take off their jackets and waistcoats and perhaps even dared to tell them they could roll up their shirt sleeves. I could have allowed them to keep only their undershirts on. But you would have had a heart attack. "

"Mrs. Hughes, may I remind you that the footmen are under my authority and you should not have made that decision for me. So take care of the female staff and leave my boys alone. "

"Oh but go ahead Mr. Carson, order them to get fully dressed and when they are all dropping like flies from the heat, and we have no one left to do the work, and Dr. Clarkson explains to you that in hot weather you must cool off and not overdress, how will you do it? And yes I've taken care of the girls as well, you don't have to worry about that, now if you're done, I've got my bookkeeping to finish, good day Mr. Carson."

Oh she was really going to blow him out of the water! How dare she kick him out, he was the butler after all! He was about to answer her in a virulent manner when he realised that she had mentioned the maids as well.

"The girls? What did you say to them? Should I expect to see them parading around in... Oh for heaven's sake, have you allowed them to undress too? For God's sake, Mrs. Hughes, do you realise how stupid you are? I warn you, if anything happens, if any of our girls get into trouble, you'll be responsible, Mrs. Hughes. My God, what are you thinking of when you allow them to walk around in their underclothes? I don't think I've ever... "

"Mr. Carson! Will you stop it, yes? What do you take me for? I told the girls to take off their stockings and their undershirts. The footmen are upstairs, the maids are outside on the other side. No one has a view of them. How can you suggest that I..."

She shook her head trying to calm herself, and he refused to look at her.

"You know what Mr. Carson, I'm going to go out and freshen up a bit, I advise you to think carefully about the way you addressed me today and all the things you implied. And maybe loosen up a bit too. Geez, you want collapse from the heat?"

And she walked out without giving him time to respond, she was angry and hurt, she had to get away from him.

As she passed she made sure Mrs. Patmore had enough lemonade to cool everyone off, and she went outside, slamming the door.

When she was out of his sight he took a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his brow. Yes, it was hot, really hot, but that was no reason to prance around half naked! What on earth would they do if the dowager turned up unexpectedly?

Mrs. Hughes could really put his nerves to the test.

oOo

Once outside, she joined the girls who were beating the rugs in the shade. She gave them a few recommendations and advised them in a low voice to go and refresh themselves in the water of the wash-house and to keep a low profile.

Then she ventured down to the lake, but there was not a bit of shade, so she headed for the orchard, under the bench in the shade of the apple tree. The heat was stifling and she didn't want to go home to face the butler and his old-fashioned principles again. He could sometimes be as scathing as a whip, what a curmudgeon!

She enjoyed the coolness of the orchard for a few more minutes, but as she still had work to do, she resigned herself to going home. But first, as a provocation, she took off her stockings and rolled up the sleeves of her dress to the elbows. She walked into the house holding her stockings in one hand and ran straight into him, who was staring at her from head to toe, then turned away from her without a word and shut himself up in his study, ignoring her superbly. She had kept her eyes fixed on his face, daring him to give her a single rebuke, so when he barricaded himself in his office, she let out a breath she had been holding all this time.

Once the door to his office was closed, he could breathe again. She had dared to return strutting around with her stockings in her hands and her arms bare. He never thought Mrs. Hughes could behave so wantonly. He wasn't sure he could live with the idea.

At dinner that night Mrs Patmore had cooked only a cold meal of various salads, cold cuts, ice cream for dessert and cold beer. The valets and maids had had the good sense to dress to Mr. Carson's standards, and even Mrs. Hughes had put her stockings and sleeves back on properly, which appeased him. It was a sign of peace she was sending him, so he would accept it.

"Would you like some more beer, Mrs. Hughes?" he asked, handing her the jug.

"Oh, I'd love one, thank you, Mr. Carson." They nodded to each other, the hatchet was buried, everything was back to the way it was, much to the butler's relief. He didn't like it when she and he disagreed, he preferred it when they were on the same side, one day he'd tell her, maybe they'd argue less then.

oOo

He couldn't sleep, this heat was stifling, he felt like his whole body was a puddle of sweat. He got up from his bed and went to his toiletry bag, but the water in it had turned sour from the heat. He sighed, ran his hand through his sweat-soaked hair, grabbed a towel and blotted himself as best he could, this heat was unbearable. He was dressed only in his boxer shorts, and that already seemed too much.

He was beginning to feel like he was suffocating, so he put on his undershirt, slipped on the trousers he'd been wearing all day, let the braces fall to his hips and as quietly as he could, he left his room to get some fresh air outside.

He needed to find somewhere cool, he couldn't take it anymore. He instinctively headed for the lake, the wash house was closer but if he ever decided to soak a bit, it was far too close to the house and he didn't want to risk one of the servants or worse a young maid catching him, barely dressed and wading in the wash house.

There was not a wisp of air, it was really quite heavy for the Englishman that he was and at his age it was getting hard to bear. He liked the sounds of the night, the crickets, the toads, the grass stirring under the little hops of a gerbil, the owls hooting and his footsteps crunching the pebbles as he got closer to the lake, where the water was not deep. He couldn't swim and water was not his element of choice, he had to be careful.

As he saw the reeds getting closer and closer, he heard an unusual sound for this place. He listened carrefully, walking tiptoed, and the sound continued. Someone was singing, splashing in the water. He approached quietly, hid behind a grove of reeds and listened to Mrs. Hughes sing as she bathed in the lake. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to imagine what she must have looked like all wet. Oh boy, was it hot!

He couldn't stand it any longer, dripping with sweat, he came out of his hiding place, he didn't want to disturb her, he understood that she needed to cool off too, but he also needed to soak in some fresh water. He appeared in the small bay where he saw the housekeeper's belongings spread out and pretended not to hear his racing heart.

He took off his shoes, pulled his trousers up to his knees, stepped into the lake as quietly as possible and greeted Mrs. Hughes:

"Good evening, Mrs. Hughes." He certainly hadn't expected this reaction.

She was swimming quietly, enjoying the coolness of the water and the sounds of the night. She had begun to hum a tune that her mother had taught her and Becky when they bathed in the loch nearest their farm. She felt refreshed and the memories of her childhood made her smile. She felt completely relaxed, so when she heard the butler's deep voice, she jumped, swallowed a mouthful of water, tried for several seconds to get up and find her balance and finally faced him, one hand on her racing heart.

He watched her struggle in the water and cough, wondering if he should go and help her, but she soon regained her balance and when she stood facing him and cried out:

"Oh my God, Mr. Carson! Oh dear, you've given me quite a scare..." She was really struggling to calm her heart.

Charles looked at her, his eyes completely wide at the sight of her, dressed only in her white undershirt, which floated around a little, and which did not hide anything at all from her chest now that it was wet. He finally turned his back on her and growled:

"Mrs. Hughes, please make yourself decent! How can a housekeeper at a respected house like Downton Abbey behave like this?"

Elsie was not yet aware of the shamelessness of her attire, she concentrated on calming her breathing. Mr Carson's words gave her a jolt and she finally put her arms against her chest to hide. It may have been dark, but her outfit left no room for imagination. What he had said made her feel ashamed and she was angry at him for that.

She returned to the bay, angry, and when she was finally out of the water, and especially out of his sight, he breathed softly and was grateful to have his feet in fairly cool water, it helped to keep his blood from getting too hot.

She put on the bathrobe she had come in, kept her wet shirt on, the coolness felt good and blew gently before turning back to him.

Her breath caught, she had never seen him so... so disheveled. His arms were bare, his trousers pulled up to his knees and his braces hanging down his thighs. His imposing stature, the muscles of his arms, his shoulders... She was grateful that she had kept her wet clothes on, it helped calm her anger but also the pleasure and excitement she felt at seeing him like this. She loved him and she wanted him, seeing him like this did not help her calm down, a wave of heat came over her again, over her body, so she preferred to concentrate on the anger she felt against him.

She came back to stand next to Charles, now that her dressing gown made her decent, determined to tell him how she felt.

"Mr. Carson, I'd like an apology."

He was still staring straight ahead, as if afraid to lay eyes on her.

"What do I have to apologise for, please? "

"For first frightening me by sneaking up on me like a thief and then for insulting me by implying that my behavior was inappropriate and improper."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hughes, I didn't mean to frighten you. "

"Right. And? "

"So what? I don't have to apologise for catching you half-naked after all! Suppose a footman or a someone else were to see you... Do you care so little about your virtue, Mrs. Hughes? "

"What right have you to speak to me in that tone? My virtue, as you call it, is no concern of yours, and you are in no position to lecture me on how to behave. "

He was about to reply forcefully, when she stopped him by showing him her palm.

"I don't want to argue with you anymore! Forgive me, Mr. Carson, I didn't have to make that remark. As for my virtue ... do you think me incapable of defending myself? And really, Mr. Carson, my virtue has nothing to fear, not at my age."

He shook his head, she did not understand.

"You are really naive, a man is still a man. A woman has to be careful with this kind of thing. "

She gave a disillusioned little laugh as she felt her anger rise again.

"Now that's pretty strong, even for you Mr. Carson! "

She was facing him now, her hands resting on her hips, her dressing gown flapping open a little more with each movement.

"How can you say that it's only the woman who has to be careful how she behaves or what she wears. Do you really think that only the woman is to blame if the man takes a woman by force just because he sees her in her underwear? And for God's sake, look at me when I'm talking to you, stop running away!" she had taken his arm to force him to look at her.

He looked down at her, and she saw his jaw tighten and his fists clench.

"Shut up, you stupid woman! You don't know what you're saying, you don't understand. "

"Yes of course I do, I'm just a woman, I'm stupid. You disappoint me, Mr. Carson, you disappoint me very much. " She looked down at last and walked back to the shore.

"Oh no, you're not going to leave like that." He had caught her in a long stride, splashing the water around him, in turn he grabbed her arm to turn her towards him.

"How can you not understand Mrs. Hughes? Why can't you understand that this life of loneliness can be hard for a man to live. And to see you... to see a woman like you are here now. What do you think a man thinks at a time like this, Mrs. Hughes? "

"I don't know, Mr. Carson, please enlighten this stupid woman! You are naive if you think that only men can have these thoughts, if you think that loneliness is not difficult for women too. The difference is that we don't have the leisure to go and pay for company."

She had spat out her words, he had backed away slightly and let go of her arm and finally lowered his head. He had never thought that she would suspect that he was using this kind of service to try to ease some of his loneliness. Shame washed over him, while his pride was greatly wounded.

"That was a low blow, Mr. Carson, forgive me. I shouldn't have told you... but you have a way of getting on my nerves! You caught me cooling off in the lake, I don't feel guilty about that, but I'm sorry if I shocked you. "

"No, Mrs. Hughes, of course not, I'm not shocked. It's just that... again, you're taking a risk being here, alone, with so few clothes on, who knows who you might have run into. "

"Oh, well, I'm lucky I bumped into you then, I know my virtue is safe with you and the great gentleman that you are, isn't it, Mr. Carson? "

"I am not so sure." He mumbled these last words so low that she doubted he had said them, and then he looked up at her again and said much more clearly:

"I am not a gentleman."

She watched him move dangerously close to her and lower his face to hers, his eyes never leaving her. She thought he was going to kiss her, she could almost feel his breath against her mouth. Elsie's heart was racing, her legs were shaking slightly and she didn't know whether to cross the distance between them or wait for him. But he didn't move, finally straightening up and looking away again.

The moment had passed.

She closed her eyes in frustration, sadness and weariness. The love she had for him could easily make her lose her mind. He was capable of heating her nerves as much as her body and she often thought that if they really got together, their bodies could spark and consume her completely. She turned away from him, put her dressing gown back on properly and let out a long sigh.

For his part, Charles didn't really know what he was doing, the way his body responded to hers was more disturbing than he'd ever thought possible. He had almost kissed her for heaven's sake! He found her beautiful and desirable and he wanted to touch her, to untie that dressing gown that played with his nerves as it opened a little more with each movement she made, and she didn't realise it. She didn't know the torment he was in, she didn't know the power she had over him, the power to make him lose his mind, to let his body take over, to make his heart race so hard he sometimes felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Sometimes he thought that if they let their bodies meet he would certainly not come out unscathed. In turn he let out a long sigh before saying:

"I'm tired of arguing with you Mrs Hughes, so let's forget about today, let's forget about the last few minutes and please, let's be friends again? "

"I didn't know we were no longer friends, Mr. Carson. Even the best of friends sometimes argue, you know. So yes, we are still friends."

She held out her right hand in peace, he took it with one, then with both hands and they stayed that way for a few seconds. They each enjoyed, fed off that tiny touch, knowing they would have nothing more, not even a hug, just hands meeting, squeezing, quietly caressing and fitting each other perfectly. She wanted more contact so badly, ached so badly for the warmth of his hands on her. He wanted so much to touch her, to learn her body with his fingertips, and for her to touch him in turn. He wouldn't care how hot it was if Elsie's hands were on him. But they couldn't give in. They stared at each other, she filled herself with the warmth of his gaze, hoping to return the same to him, hoping that he could read her, that he could guess her desire for him so that he could soothe her. But slowly he released her hand, and turned his gaze to the lake.

She walked towards the shore, a small smile gracing her lips. What she had seen in Charles' eyes had made her lonely heart and body feel better.

She was about to leave when he stopped her again with his big, beautiful voice:

"Mrs. Hughes, may I see you home? If you give me two minutes we can walk back together. "

He didn't wait for her answer, he knew she would be waiting for him. He went a little further until he was knee deep in water and splashed himself with water to refresh his body and mind. He then returned to her, smiling shyly.

She wasn't being proud, he was beautiful, soaked, disheveled, the vest sticking to his skin revealing his chest, the hair that covered him, his belly, the mark of his navel. She modestly looked away, her heart was racing and her body was reacting too strongly to him.

They set off in silence, they entered the big house together, climbed the stairs side by side, then as they parted, he whispered a "good night" to her and took a step towards the men's quarters, he felt her hand holding him back. He turned to her, questioning her with his eyes. She bit her lip, avoiding his gaze, then she gathered her courage and said:

"Mr. Carson, what do you think a woman whose lonely life can sometimes weigh on her, thinks when she sees a man like you are, right now? What do you think a woman thinks at that moment?" She did not give him time to think or answer, too ashamed of her audacity, she fled as quickly as she could to her room.

Charles had stood still for a moment, completely bewildered by Elsie's questions. Then he realised what she was implying and once again he felt his heart and body kick in.

Obviously this heat was becoming harmful to his mental health. He had never looked so forward to the return of winter and the cold nights.

TBC…

So I like the image of a wet Carson...