Half the Story Hidden— Chapter 2, Part d: Fair Nature's Confounded Base

Author Note: I am still busy with work, but I figured I would take a break from other screen-based toil to edit this next part (d) of Chapter 2. This is mainly because the newest DA movie has been released in the UK and I figured that any secrets of the Dowager Countess' life prior to the birth of Robert will be doing the rounds very soon. I have no interest in any of the DA movies, but I wanted to note that my ideas for this particular story were originally drafted in February of 2018. As such, 'Half the Story Hidden' has not been influenced by the latest machinations of the Dowager that may have flowed from the pen of Julian Fellowes for DA- A New Era.

And so, a bit more of the story that has been hidden is now revealed in Part d, but it is still nowhere near half of that full story.

Join Elsie and Charles as they continue to meander like the stream that surrounds them through this somewhat murky tale…

Regards,

BTF

oOOo

Continued: August 1927, 6 days later - After the morning funeral and early luncheon in the great hall for the wake of the late Dowager Countess of Grantham.

Chapter 2, Part c: Fair Nature's Confounded Base

Afternoon: The Stable-hand's Stream

oOOo

After a while of dabbling his feet in the stream, Charles feels ready to share a new piece of information about himself that he had originally thought it best not to divulge, just in case Elsie should be a little put out by it. But now, with everything so unceremoniously thrown out onto the mat before them, and with his Elsie-love, as ever, being her most inimitable and supportive self, there really seems a no better time than right now. Although, part of Charles does wonder whether young Hugh may have spilt the beans to His Great Aunty Elsie-speth about this little fact already. The lad is, quite admirably, honest to an absolute fault, but unlike Charles, Hugh has never benefited from the strict discipline of a life grown in silent service to the aristocracy. He is young and still a little prone to blurting out exactly what he thinks and feels at any given moment. He sometimes even reminds Charles of who he might have been, had he stayed out on the stage, or even if he could have stayed on by his own Dad's side in the stables and maybe become the head groom himself one day.

"You know something, Els?"

"Hmmm...What's that Charles?" Elsie sounds unfocused and tired. She does so love their relaxed and comfortable little silences that they sometimes just flow into, even when they may be discussing some of the biggest issues they have ever faced together. It is as if they instinctively know when the other needs to stop to regroup and order their thoughts again, and to find the energy to just keep on soldiering on. Like a cup of tea for the mind, she muses languidly, but then she soon rouses herself to give him her full attention again.

"Lady Mary—she has taken to calling me 'Uncle Carson'*, just Like our Hugh and Lizzie have been, and for quite a while now, as it is. Mainly whenever I run into her at the stables when I might walk up to see how young Hugh is getting along and to have a spot of lunch with him."

Elsie smiles from where her forehead still rests upon his neck and gazes out into the middle distance of the slowly eddying pools of the stream. It pleases her no end that Charles has so easily taken to the lad and offered him a grandfatherly presence now that Hugh has left his own Dad and Grandad behind in Lytham's.

"You know," she replies wistfully, "I can only imagine you enjoying that,…and Lady Mary, too," she adds generously as she cranes up to peck him in that special little chin dimple of his.

Lady Mary really has been so very supportive of Charles since he married and retired. She has also been supportive of young Hugh and Lizzie since they came to the village. And so, Elsie has come to appreciate the haughty young minx much more in this last year than she ever thought would be possible. Perhaps her own absence from the big house and from Lady Mary's daily presence has actually made her heart grow fonder for Charles' own favourite. In addition, Elsie can see that Lady Mary is bearing the loss of her beloved Granny with her typical ice-cool exterior, but she well knows that Lady Mary has already had a much-needed cry on her Uncle Carson's warm shoulder before the public onslaught of the funeral and formal wake and mourning could hit her. She is really very proud of and humbled by how Charles supports the people he loves, including the Blessed Lady Mary. And really, Elsie does like the way that Lady Mary has forged ahead this year with running the estate for Master George's future and forgetting all of her various courtship follies for the moment. Single life had always suited Elsie well enough to lead a very contented and happy and productive life. And, although Lady Mary's version of single life has been approached in a reverse fashion to the way it ever was for Elsie, it does not mean that it suits the young lady any less. Charles himself has only just commented, albeit with some lament, about how long the Dowager Countess has lived without a husband by her side. And Lady Rosamund has lived almost half as long as that without Mr Painswicke by her side, now that Elsie thinks on it. And so, she considers that this is also ample proof of being able to live well without a husband. It was not the end of the world for either of these ladies nor for Mrs Crawley either, come to think of it. Although, Lady Mary is a lot younger to have been widowed, so too were many young women, such as their dear Moira in Lytham's who was yet another woman whose husband never returned from the war. And so, Elsie reasons that it does not mean it will be the end of the world for Lady Mary either, should she not meet another man worthy of marrying her. Not that Elsie wishes for any of these ladies to lead a lonely life. It is more that she would wish only for them to meet the very best of men— just as she and Becky have been lucky enough to do… and Beryl too for that matter. Elsie merely wishes for each of these women that, in making the change from the benefits of remaining single in their already quite charmed existence, to possibly being married, is a true and worthwhile prospect for them all. Elsie would only wish that it could be just as it is for her lovely Moira with John Carter now. He is a good solid man for her. Elsie smiles at the thought of her sparky and beloved niece finding such happiness again, and she wonders if Lady Mary might ever smile again with that certain softness that Master Matthew always seemed to inspire in her.

"Hmmm…" Charles squeezes Elsie closer, knowing that she is mulling deeply on the complexities of his guinea-a-minute favourite—just as she always does when Lady Mary comes up in conversation between them. He cannot help but smile a little at the fact that Elsie generally comes up a little more confused by Lady Mary than before she even started thinking about her! He does wonder if Elsie will ever just 'let the mystery be and enjoy the spectacle', so to speak. At least now he feels relatively assured, despite everything that could come to light and tear their world asunder after today, that Lady Mary will now always be fiercely loyal to Elsie, should anything ever happen to him, and that is just because Lady Mary has always been loyal towards Charles himself (in the end). And he knows Lady Mary will be this way with Elsie purely because Elsie is Charles' own family now, and given it has nothing whatsoever to do with Lady Edith, Family has always been enough of a reason for Lady Mary to lend her support and kindness to others if they are, in fact, good people. He knows how Lady Mary saw to it that their Sweet William could see his own mother one last time before that lady passed. One would be hard-pressed to find a more stalwart sponsor than Lady Mary if she has set her favour in your direction. These are the things that Elsie sometimes cannot see about his Blessed Lady Mary— the very soft and giving and yet iron-clad heart of her.

"Uncle Carson", Elsie pipes into his thoughts with a stunningly accurate impersonation of Lady Mary's diction. He looks down at his wife with a bemused smile in his eyes.

"You are right though, Elsie, it really does seem to make her smile." Charles' face lifts up in a small smile again as he thinks on it, and Elsie is ever so glad to see that sparkling glint return to his soulful and squinted up, and almost happy eyes. She cranes up even further to kiss the corner of his upturned mouth. Charles's smile just gets bigger at this new contact and he turns a little to peck Elsie on the lips in return, sighing with quite some contentment. "But it does seem that I am not 'Carson the Butler' to her anymore, even though with Lord Grantham I still feel in some ways that I am. So, I suppose that Lady Mary calling me 'Carson' all seemed to be… well…not quite right anymore…, somehow….not that we have ever said as much aloud to one another. And then 'Mr Carson' sounded completely odd too. 'Uncle Carson' does seem to fit though, just like it has with Lizzie and Hugh calling me that."

"Well then, Uncle Carson— you should continue to enjoy being just that for her in a very real sense now‑ is that not a good thing to have?" Charles quirks one of those delightful close-lipped and one-cheeked smiles at Elsie and his eyes do finally glint with full happiness at the thought of it all. He is also incredibly pleased about the fact that Elsie has become more and more generous about his relationship with, and his love for, his little Miss Mary. "You really have always been like a kind and beloved uncle to her for all of these years, Charles, haven't you? I have never begrudged you having those feelings for her, even if I have not always fully understood it."

"I know love. But still…I am really not at all sure that I would want her to know the truth of this particular matter, Els. I may be her actual uncle, but I would feel ashamed in front of her if she knew all of the truth of it. I don't know why, but I just would."

"Well Charles, maybe that is just your natural bent to try to protect the innocent young—even when they are grown adults and long clear of being able to claim any innocence through their own actions."

"Grmmph," He always hates to be reminded of how Lady Mary has faltered in the past.

" And... it is likely that old habits will die hard for you. You have been defending and supporting the Dowager Countess, in your own way, for more years than most can count. But still… I think if we do decide to go to Lord and Lady Grantham with all of this, there is still hope that at least it stays between only the four of us. We could likely take the secret to all of our own graves. I believe we can trust in Lord and Lady Grantham's absolute discretion, even amongst members of their own family, when the potential scandal is this large. Everyone could be turned out on their ear, could they not? Lord Grantham— would he… could he be stripped of his title?"

"I suppose it may be possible. Lord and Lady Flintshire's divorce was bad enough, and they had already 'lost the farm' before all of the divorce proceedings came out anyway. But I do agree with you, it would appear that Lord and Lady Grantham have learnt some of their discretion from the master of subterfuge and secrecy herself: the Dowager Countess. They will keep this quiet, Elsie, we can rely on it. I suspect the 6th Earl shored things up on many other fronts, if needed, before he died. There would be enough people in high enough places beholden to him, even now, I would wager."

"No, I do not suppose any of the Peerage are so far above the sway of personal bribery than they are threats, including the late Earl."

"Sadly, you are quite right there too, my Love." He whispers out and they sit quietly again with the churning of their thoughts and the waters about their feet for a while as they continue to sip slowly at their summer wine.

oOOo

"Huuugh…But still, Elsie-Love, I don't understand it: Why reveal all of this now? And I just don't know what I can believe of anything anymore. Was I foisted upon the Carsons? Was my mother paid to keep me and wet nurse me, and then I…what? I just stayed on?!"

"Oh, nonsense, Charles! The Dowager told you not six days ago that she saw how your parents loved you from the very first moment! And they are not 'the Carsons' —We are that now—and to you, Frank and Elizabeth Carson will always be your most loving and devoted parents, and you will always, always, be their precious boy. Plus, I wear your very own mother's ring right now with such pride that if you should ever dishonour her memory by speaking so poorly of her again, Charles Ernest Carson, I swear I might have to take you over my knee!"

"Good grief!" He cannot help but finally chuckle out a little at Elsie's righteous indignation as he imagines the improbable logistics of her enacting such a proposition. "If you could only hear how much you sounded like the Dowager Countess just then, Elsie! You know, she threatened Lord Grantham with as much not so long ago. Although, unlike you, she merely mentioned calling for Nanny to send him to bed without supper, rather than considering handling the task herself!"

"Well, that sounds about right for her. Gosh, though! I Don't think I want to sound like the Dowager Countess around you any more than I want you sounding like Jos Tufton should you take up your father's own voice again!

"Hmmph!" he grins at her and he just cannot stop himself. For the life of him!—Having Elsie by his side really is so very much fun. "Lüsh waife o' mine!" He rumbles into her ear and makes her shiver as his warm breath tickles so close to her sensitive skin. He kisses her softly on the neck and sighs in a moment of relaxed contentment once again—at least for this small slice of joy in his life. Then he turns to refill their wine glasses as he finishes his second piece of bread.

oOOo

Charles sighs out long again.

"Hmmm…But You know Else, now that I think back on so very many things, there was always something...different about the 6th Earl's marriage to the Dowager Countess. I do think that they loved each other, but…well when I got back to Downton after my time out on the stage, around '75 or 6 it was, I was relegated to being 5th footman again, you know, and…and the staff were muttering, even then, about some misadventures the Dowager had gotten herself into in St Petersburg a year or so before– when the 6th Earl and she toured and stayed at the Winter Palace. Mr Peters** could not shut all of the talk down, all of the time. But I always gave it very short shrift and never entered into any of that sort of sordid speculation, because the 6th Earl… well, he had done me a good turn by taking me back on, and I did not want to disappoint him in any way. That was even before I knew he saw me as a reliable replacement for Mr Peters. But… well…now I remember how flustered the Dowager was when Lady Rose brought Prince Kuragin to the Abbey to view some artefacts and gifts of the Tsar. Perhaps there was something to all of the staff rumours and these sorts of indiscretions were more common for Her Ladyship than I would truly like to admit."

"Hmm… well I did sense something was afoot there at the time of that visit. It is not outside the realms of possibility that something happened. I mean, you know as well as I do that once the staff start talking on something, there is often at least the smallest grain of truth buried at the bottom of it all somewhere."

"Hmm…and so it still stands that it is always best to curb such talk early—just as Mr Peters did, and just as we always tried to do."

"Indeed"

"But you know something, Els…I…I…really think he did love her, the 6th Earl. In spite of such a thing possibly happening in St Petersburg, and obviously in spite of my own paternity. But I think he did still love her, Elsie. I know you never saw it, and I know it sounded like a very odd match, what with the 6th Earl being so much older than Her Ladyship, but I think that he did love her—quite devotedly, in fact...in his own way. I could see it, but I don't think others could…But he must have been so very patient in those early years with her, it now seems—now that I look back on it all differently…Well, I was a part-time boot blacker even way back then, before school each day, Els, after mother died, but Dad was still alive. And I didn't understand any of this sort of thing then, but I guess I did always find it odd that The Earl never left of a morning through Lady Grantham's bedroom door. I didn't understand when I was that young about how these classes keep to their separate rooms. For, my Mother and Dad had always slept as one, and more often than not with me in with them. I was too young to know why it was important, and of course, I only ever collected the boots from outside the dressing room doors, before almost anyone else was up —you know the routine, of course. But… he would always rise so very early, the 6th Earl, he was always the hardest of workers. But, I never once saw him leave from his wife's room. So, I guess …maybe it is not such a wonder that they took 10 years before they had their son and heir."

"Hmm…I wonder why it all changed then though, Charles?"

"Perhaps Lady Grantham finally saw she had to do her duty to the estate?"

"Mmm…maybe… but…I suppose… She may well have been fearful too. The letter said that your birth was not an easy one Charles… perhaps they lost some little ones before they could have Lord Grantham. And… I guess I do understand a little Charles—of what her fears for such things may have been— if she had Lord Hepworth*** do to her what it sounds like he may well have done to her when she was really quite young. For if I read between the lines of her letter—it does seem that the older man took advantage of her youthful inexperience. I would wager she was well seduced, at the very least. And…I can imagine she may have been a little scared by it all—perhaps like your Lady Mary by Mr Pamuk."

Charles shudders once again, each and every time his special girl is implicated in that scandalous indiscretion…and with a foreigner! But he also baulks at the fact that these ladies, whom he has cared for so very deeply for his whole life (really, he has), that they may have all felt such fear and unpleasantness around something that he knows for Elsie and himself has become a source of such immense joy.

Elsie feels the ripple of discomfort mingled with disgust running through him and continues more gently, "Sadly, Charles, we women are never told anything of much use before these things might happen, whether within the bounds of a loving marriage or not…But…really, when we must think on it, even The Dowager Countess was as much bred to be married off to the highest bidder as your young Lady Mary ever was. Even Lady Grantham was, in a way—marrying for the title and the status in exchange for her fortune. They were all a sort of commodity for their family's sake,…and a pretty little set-piece to complete the required display options for any young Earls who might have come knocking on the door for more money to fund their opulent lifestyles."

Charles shudders bodily again.

"Huph…It is not a pleasant prospect to think on at all, when the mercenary nature of it is put out there, I must say—not for any lady... Oh, Lord! To think I might have been a part of all of that if Lord Hepworth had actually seen fit to do the right thing by the young Lady Violet! What would that make me then, Els?"

"I've no idea, Charles, you are the one that reads Burke's Peerage religiously!" she quips to try and lighten the mood a little.

"Hmm.. well I am afraid Burke's Peerage has suddenly become an infinitely more difficult tome to read now. It is filled with far more complex puzzles of lineage to unravel as of today," he says very seriously.

"Oh honestly, Charles— that is no surprise, surely! Burke's has always had at least half of the story hidden! We know that well enough from our travels all the way to Somerset to uncover the truth of Baron Trevor de Brown-Trout's secret Fleet Prison wife!^ You said yourself that the highest heraldic offices in the land can hush all of these scandals up if they have a mind to. So, we can likely only take such a volume as a half-truth much of the time anyway."

"Hmm… yes… and so we return to the Dowager's own pearl of aristocratic wisdom about 'the look of it all' being the thing that matters most."

''It is the sadness of the style and show of the world we have lived in, Charles."

"Hmmph! And how diligently I have played my little part in it all! FOOL that I am!"

"Never that, Charles—not ever" she whispers out in a somewhat frustrated growl for this old fear about himself returning so stridently today. "And to be sure, my love, I would not have wanted to have you be the next Earl What's-his-name of Whatever-it-is anyway, for we would likely never have even met, and that certainly does not bear thinking about in my book." Elsie kisses him firmly on his cheek as she presses her fingertip into the cleft of his chin once more— its now long-term and very favourite home—completing her thoughts and confirming that particular statement of truth for them both.

"The Earl of Hepworth," Charles gravely draws out the name.

"Good Lord! Shall I have to call you 'Your Grace' now?"

"Oh, you know better than that, Els— I would not be a Duke! I…I would actually be referred to as… Good God.. huuhgh …oh dear Lord.." He swallows heavily… "The Viscount Charles E. Lascelles, the Right Honourable 5th Earl of Hepworth."^^

The truth is out.

"So, a simple M'Lord will do?" she deadpans. He just rolls his eyes at her and groans.

"Besides which Elsie—a Ba-.. a…an illegitimate child can never place such a claim on a title, even today. You know that well enough."

"Of course…W-e-ell…anyway…Perhaps I will just stick to Sir Carson de Clicky-Knees, now that I think on it, for it does suit you so much better."

"You!" He huffs out, "you are just a wicked woman, Elspeth Mae Hughes." He looks at her glowing face as he nudges her in the ribs in return and cannot help but chuckle at her loving way of ribbing him and trying to brighten up this quagmire of a day for him.

"That's Mrs Elspeth Mae Carson to you, thank you very much." As she squeezes onto his arm again and leans closer once more.

"Well, Mrs Carson, even if I could lay claim to that title, I could just as easily be a penniless and dissipated fop like the current 5th Earl of Hepworth."

"Charles Carson and 'foppishness' are not naturally congruent terms in any version of reality, methinks…Although…" she eyes him slyly from the side and arches that wickedly lilting eyebrow at him again as she affects an outrageous French accent, "Vicomte Charrles Lascelles, you say, hmm?... It all sounds rather continental and a little bit fruity to me!"

"Will you stop it, Els! I am trying very hard to wallow in misery, self-pity and despair right now, and you are making it incredibly difficult!"

She falls against him in a fit of giggles this time and he chuckles right along with her as he hugs her close to his side—the heat of the day heady summer wine well affecting his lightheaded and heavy-hearted state right now.

"Haahh,… But they did end up losing Hatton Park, and Loche Earle, even Goldsborough Hall—everything. I'd have had nothing to show for any of it now even if that was the path I'd had to walk."

"And you'd have been half the man you are today in terms of goodness, and honour, and integrity, my dearest husband," and she kisses him surely on the cheek again. Her signs of affection for Charles seem to know no bounds today.

"Thank you for always thinking that of me, Love." He continues to squeeze her close.

She turns to eye him squarely, "I don't just think it, Charles-love— I truly believe it… for I know it all to be just so from your actions," she states with sure conviction. And she uses her free hand to tilt his head down to hers so that she may bless him with another little kiss— between his brows this time…and then another on the tip of his nose… and finally a chaste and sweet little kiss on his lips until he has that sheepish and still slightly 'amazed-that-this-fine-and-graceful-lady-even-loves-me-at-all' smile playing all over his face again. She just supports and accepts him so fully, and exactly as he is. No matter what. Warts and all.

"Well then..." he sighs out, "Perhaps…if that all is the case, if life is what changes us... then I would rather not have lived that sort of life at all and have been so very changed by it —especially now that you keep making me ever more aware of this proclivity of the peerage to always spin a web of falsehoods and stories around their lives."

"That's exactly right, my love."

"You know, I have just realised, sadly, that I have spent most of the years of my life slavishly and naively trying to avoid even looking at that fact, even though I am quite complicit in remaining silent on so very many scandalous things that I have seen and heard."

"Well, I know what you mean. It is almost like taking a vow of silence at our level of service, isn't it Charles, and living somewhat monastically as we have done….but…but…Charles", she muses carefully, none too sure about quite what she is thinking yet herself, "if …if we have lived honestly and behaved well, based only on all that we could possibly have known of as being the truth at the time…does…does that life and…and that following of the established rules…does that life of honour…well…does it automatically become a less valid way to have lived…even…even if it all subsequently turns out that there were hidden depths we could never have known that we had to base our life upon?"

"If my mind could possibly have kept up properly with all that you just said, Els, my instinct is always to trust you and hope that you are right."

"Hmm…" no full stop to all of my rambling thoughts seems quite possible today…that much seems sure. Elsie muses. "Huugh…Well it surely is all an ugly mess. Far murkier than the lineage of Baron Trevor de Brown Trout and his Fair Lady Frances Grayling it seems."

"Urrrgh…Oh, Els, Don't keep reminding me that I am a part of it…please."

On a whim, Elsie plonks herself down from the rock and wades back to the riverbank.

"What are you doing, Els?"

"Getting your gear, Charles. I think it is high time you taught me how to cast a dry-fly, since it seems that we must continue to trawl through all of these murky depths of the British Peerage together."

"I think me writing out the spawning habits and offspring of every single fish in England in the new 'Trout's Peerage'^ would actually be a far easier prospect than analysing Burke's right now!"

"HA! Likely so, Charles, likely so." She hands Charles his favourite fishing rod, which appears to have survived the first violent shocks of the day. "Come on, now. Show me how this is all done."

oOOo

*See "Ephemera"— Chapter 13- Hugh's letter to his grandmother, Becky.

**Updated 3/5/22- I thought I had mentioned the name of the 6th Earl of Grantham's Butler in some other DAFF story of mine, but I scanned through my most likely suspects, and it appears that I have never done so. As such, I have decided to change his name to 'Peters', rather than what I had originally posted in this chapter, as I do not really want to lift this name directly from fellow DAFF writer, Edward Carson's own works. I have updated the name from 'Finch' to Peters in this chapter now, and I will maintain the name of 'Peters' as Carson's mentor from now on.

^ Baron Trevor's the Brown Trout's history, and 'Trout's Peerage' (a quip from Elsie) are first mentioned in Chapter 30 from The Acquisition of Memories".

^^ Yes, I am drawing in this briefly viewed family line from the series: The Hepworths of Hatton Park. More will be revealed in future instalments.

Reviews are always lovely. Give me at least another week before I can edit the next instalment.

Kind regards,

BTF