A/N Thank you for your continued support and patience. Special nod to my guest reviewers, to whom I can't respond personally. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this, but as I promised last time, I won't abandon this. I just don't know how frequently I'll be able to update in the foreseeable future.
Since it's been so long, here's a quick recap: It's January of 1926, and Mr. Carson has received a letter from Mrs. Hughes. She left Downton in 1913, and he hasn't heard from her in the intervening years. In the letter, Mrs. Hughes says she's now living in London, and she asks for Mr. Carson's help with something. She'd like to see him the next time he's in London, in order to ask him a favor in person. Mr. Carson asks Lord Grantham for some time off and arranges a trip to see her. Over the course of the few days before he leaves, Mr. Carson has been thinking about how much he misses Mrs. Hughes, about all the things she did to help everyone at Downton, and about all the ways in which she made him a better man during her time at Downton.
And now we rejoin Mr. Carson on the eve of his reunion with Mrs. Hughes ...
The night before his trip to London, as Mr. Carson lay in bed, his body was still, but his mind and heart were restless. Over the previous few days, he'd been reminded of Mrs. Hughes at every turn.
He'd received a letter from Ethel Parks-Bryant, who reported that she was doing quite well. Years earlier, when Ethel had come to him for help with Major Bryant's parents, he'd been reluctant at first to lend his support. After his initial hesitation, however, he'd considered that Mrs. Hughes would be disappointed in him if refused to help a desperate woman who had nowhere else to turn, and he relented. Even though Mrs. Hughes was long gone by then and might never know, his conscience had spoken to him in her voice. And so Mr. Carson had used his connections and influence to dig up some unsavory information on old Mr. Bryant. Since Mr. Bryant had been unwilling to have that information made public, he and Mrs. Bryant had agreed to acknowledge Ethel and young Charlie as Major Bryant's widow and son and had welcomed their daughter-in-law and grandson into their home. Ethel had been – and still was – immensely grateful. Mr. Carson knew that he would never have found it within him to help Ethel and the boy if Mrs. Hughes had not softened him and made him more tolerant.
He'd also had a telephone call from Charlie Grigg, who had reported that he was doing well. Likewise, had it not been for a gentle Scottish voice in his head, long after its owner had gone, Mr. Carson would never have had the compassion to reconcile with Charlie Grigg, to effect his former stage partner's release from the workhouse, and to help him find employment and a stable situation. Nor would he have involved Mrs. Crawley in the process, thereby distracting her from her grief after the loss of Mr. Matthew.
When he'd observed the Bateses with their infant son, blissfully happy, he'd been reminded of Anna's attack and how near she had come to something much worse. Mr. Carson shuddered to think what might have happened if he and Mrs. Patmore had not arrived downstairs in time on that awful night. Fortunately, they had arrived in time and had prevented the contemptible man from completing the vile act he'd been attempting. He had detained Mr. Green while Mrs. Patmore summoned help. Mr. Carson managed, with great effort, to restrain Mr. Bates from doing Mr. Green serious harm before the authorities arrived, and the testimonies of the intended victim and two witnesses to the attempted crime had been sufficient to put the reprobate behind bars. Mr. Carson thanked God for Mrs. Hughes's example and her foresight. She had always been protective of her female charges and wary of strange men, and after she left, Mr. Carson had taken that responsibility upon himself, with help from Mrs. Patmore. If the former housekeeper had not emphasized and demonstrated such astute vigilance, a vigilance that the butler and the cook had continued in her absence, Anna and Mr. Bates might be … Well, they might have found themselves in one of many possible dreadful situations, none of which Mr. Carson cared to ponder at all.
Similarly, upon watching Mr. Branson play with young Miss Sybbie, Mr. Carson had been reminded of the nasty business with Edna Braithewaite. Once again, he credited Mrs. Hughes for the favorable outcome of the unpleasant affair. Though he thought Mr. Branson's judgment sorely lacking, he'd been sympathetic and had played his part in ridding the young man of the maid who had been such a nuisance to him. Had it not been for the changes Mrs. Hughes had wrought in Mr. Carson, he certainly would not have been willing to assist Mr. Branson.
After thinking backwards for days, he now tried to think forward to his trip the next day and to his arranged meeting with Mrs. Hughes. He wondered what the morrow would bring, but as he lay in bed, his memory took him backwards once more to one of the last conversations he'd had with Mrs. Hughes, an encounter that occurred just days before her departure.
May 1913
"I've put out the Rundell candlesticks for dinner tonight," announced Mr. Carson, peering into Mrs. Hughes's sitting room.
Mrs. Hughes nodded distractedly. Clearly, she was contemplating something weightier than candlesticks.
Not wanting to intrude, he apologized. "Ah. I'm sorry. I'll come back later."
"No, stay, please," she implored. "I've got something I'd like to talk to you about … if you've a minute."
He entered and closed the door, and the two sat down across from each other at Mrs. Hughes's small table. Mr. Carson waited for Mrs. Hughes to speak.
"I don't know whether you'll remember this. We talked about it once, shortly after I arrived, but that was a long time ago, so I'll tell you again." She paused, took a breath, and began her story. "Before I first came here as head housemaid, I was walking out with a farmer. When I told him I'd taken a job at Downton, he asked me to marry him. I was a farmer's daughter from Argyll, so I knew the life. He was very nice. But then I came here and I … I did well, and … I didn't want to give it up, so … I told him no, and he married someone else. She died three years ago. And last month, he wrote, asking to see me again. And I agreed."
"Go on," Mr. Carson urged when she paused. He knew most of this, of course. He did remember their conversation from long ago, and he also knew about the recent letter. Because it was normally he who distributed the post, he'd seen the envelope with the man's name on the return address, and he could surmise what was contained in the letter therein. Mrs. Hughes's only other correspondence came from family and friends in Scotland, so this letter certainly attracted the butler's notice. But Mr. Carson allowed Mrs. Hughes to tell him the whole story in her own way and in her own time.
"I met him the other night," she continued. "We had dinner at the Grantham Arms, and after, he took me to the fair."
Mr. Carson knew this, too. He'd seen Mrs. Hughes leave for the fair, looking quite lovely, and he'd seen her return, looking all "sparkly-eyed," as Thomas had said.
Mr. Carson attempted a feeble joke at the other man's expense. "And he was horrible and fat and red-faced, and you couldn't think what you ever saw in him?"
"He was still a nice man," said Mrs. Hughes. "He is still a nice man. Well, he was a bit red-faced, and his suit was a little tight, but none of that matters. In the real ways, he hadn't changed."
"And he proposed again ... and you accepted?" Mr. Carson conjectured.
"I was flattered, of course, and in many ways, I wanted to accept … " Mrs. Hughes trailed off without answering the question conclusively.
Mr. Carson furrowed his brow, trying to understand. "But you didn't accept? You told him no?"
"I haven't told him anything yet, except that I would think about his offer," explained Mrs. Hughes.
"I see," said Mr. Carson, nodding slowly. "And have you? Thought about his offer, that is."
"I've thought of little else. But I've not come to a decision."
Mr. Carson sat back and pondered for a brief time. "I understand. It's not a decision to be made lightly, and you must give it due consideration."
"Just so," Mrs. Hughes agreed.
The two sat in somber silence for a moment, and then Mrs. Hughes voiced a request. "Erm, Mr. Carson … I'd appreciate it if you keep this just between us until I come to a decision."
"Certainly," he promised.
At that moment, they were interrupted by Anna, summoning Mrs. Hughes to the kitchen. Mrs. Hughes got up to leave, but before she could follow Anna, Mr. Carson called out to her.
"Mrs. Hughes – you will keep me informed, I hope?" he asked.
"Of course," she told him. "You'll be the first to know."
"Right. Good. Thank you, Mrs. Hughes."
She offered him a small smile and a nod before leaving to deal with Mrs. Patmore and the store cupboard.
Three days later, Mrs. Hughes informed Mr. Carson – and then the family and staff – that she would be leaving, citing "personal reasons." Only Mr. Carson knew that those "personal reasons" involved her forthcoming marriage, though others may have suspected. She offered to serve out her notice, but her ladyship, with her typical kindness and sensitivity, allowed the housekeeper to leave only a few days later, after hasty arrangements had been made. No one at Downton had seen or heard from her since.
And now Mr. Carson lay lamenting the tragic irony that had haunted him for so long: the regrettable fact that he he'd fallen in love with Mrs. Hughes only after she left, when her goodness and kindness and beauty were painfully absent. Or perhaps it hadn't been after her departure. Maybe he'd been in love with her all along, but it had taken the bitter poignancy of her absence to make him realize it. He couldn't be sure which was true, but either way, the sad reality of the situation remained: Mrs. Hughes had left to marry another man.
Mr. Carson rolled over, switched on his bedside lamp, withdrew from his nightstand drawer the two letters Mrs. Hughes had sent him, and read them again. He wondered why she'd signed both letters with her maiden name, given that he presumed her to be married. He told himself that the obvious explanation was probably the most reasonable: he'd always known her by that name, and so she'd done it simply to be sure he would recognize her name.
As he read the words again, dozens of questions raced through Mr. Carson's mind. Why had Mrs. Hughes asked to see him after so long? What was this mysterious "favor" she'd mentioned? Would he be able to help her? Would he ever see her again after their meeting tomorrow? Was she still married? Widowed? Divorced? (He thought the last possibility unlikely.) Would her husband be with her at the tea shop? (Mr. Carson hoped not.) But then, would it be proper for him to meet a married woman for tea if her husband were not present? This last question concerned him somewhat, but his desire to see Mrs. Hughes outweighed any misgivings he might have had.
Reasoning that all his wondering would provide him with no solid answers, he sighed heavily. After setting the letters aside and turning off his light, he settled in for a fitful night's slumber.
A/N: As you may have guessed, I'm imagining that in Mrs. Hughes's absence, Mr. Carson did all those wonderful things that she did in canon (helping Ethel and little Charlie, reconciling with Charlie Grigg, and helping Mr. Branson get rid of Edna). I even went as far as to pretend that Mr. Carson and Mr. Bates found Anna before Mr. Green did what he did in canon. (So there, Fellowes!) And I took the liberty of inventing a way to make Mr. Carson even better able to help Ethel and Charlie, by "blackmailing" Mr. Bryant.
Thank you for your support throughout this story. Thank you for your patience and for sticking with me. The next chapter (their reunion) is mostly written, so I should be able to post it before too long. I can't promise much after that, however.
I would love to know what you think. Please leave a review if you're able. Thanks in advance.