A/N:
In response to the guest reviews,
Suzie, did I ever mention just how much I adore your reviews? I'm so glad you loved the audition I certainly agree that if Barrow is a baritone, then Carson is a bass. Personally, I can see him having a bit of a range, but being most comfortable in the "basement" - as a friend would've said. And, I'd say that as a teenager, O'brien would probably be more alto than contralto at the moment. And, I'm glad to hear you're enjoying this story!
General Author's Note,
It is with great pleasure that I give you what is currently the longest chapter of the story! Not only that, I also want to wish you all a very Happy New Year! To celebrate, we have dancing, a hint of drama, a touch of angst and, what I believe to be, an overall sweet chapter. Cheers!
_._
It is a universally unspoken truth that when a choir director wants to use the last four weeks before a concert productively, those weeks fly by without a moment's notice.
Especially when there's a Winter Ball in the middle of all of it.
_._
"Which songs will they be performing for the dance, Mr. Carson?" After all, seeing as how this was an age old tradition of Downton's, she was quite willing to let him take over this completely.
"Well, for the beginner girls, 'I Saw Three Ships' is a perfectly acceptable piece. When it comes to Bel Canto, they're brimming with confidence when it comes to 'Carol of the Bells'." She nodded, having caught that herself. "Hark the Herald' of course for the Men's Ensemble, and 'Sleep, Little Baby" felt appropriate for the Advanced Mixed.
"Of course," Charles continued, "It did not feel appropriate to select a piece for the a cappella group. That choice, I feel, should be yours." She smiled slightly, appreciative of the gesture. Elsie understood the desire for control when it came to directing, and knew that this little choice was quite a privilege. But that wasn't the only pleasant surprise in store, not in the slightest.
"I also had a thought about changing up the routine a little bit this year."
"Oh?" Throughout these last few months, she never she'd hear Mr. Carson even dreaming of changing his own routines and traditions.
Little did the choir teacher realize, there had been quite a few changes in several of his routines and traditions since her arrival.
"Typically the choirs selected to perform would run through their pieces - with the Advanced Mixed Choir finishing the show." Beryl had already explained this routine to her: every year, certain ensembles from each section of the music department would perform for the Winter Ball, with the audition-only choir finishing the set.
Still, even if she knew the traditional set-up, she had no need to interrupt and announce as such - it would only take away from whatever new idea he had in mind.
"And since every choir will be performing this year, why not practice one of the pieces in the show that requires every ensemble?" Elsie's smile continued to expand once she realized he was waiting for her thoughts on the matter.
"I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Carson. Did you have a particular piece in mind?"
"Well, now that you mention it," He began and, much to her delight, it had been the very song she'd been hoping he'd suggest.
_._
"Beryl, what are we doing?" They detoured on the walk back home, stopping into the village and "magically" finding themselves at the entrance of a resale clothing shop.
"Oh, dear, I do believe Mr. Carson is in there,"
"What?" Beryl snickered as Elsie took her gaze away from the store front and back towards her friend. "That wasn't funny, Beryl."
"Oh, but I do believe I see him there and -" She stood up on her tiptoes for a better look through the window. "Is that Mrs. Butte he's speaking to?"
"Why would Mrs. Butte be in a charity shop now of all times?" But, having never met Mrs. Butte, Elsie opened the door - so as to just take a quick look and properly confirm for herself, of course.
"Hello!" A polite and unusually cheerful woman stood behind the counter. "Were you interested in trying anything on?"
"Oh, I don't believe-" "We are quite interested, thank you!"
"Changing rooms are in the back. If you need anything, let me know!"
After a moment of scanning the shop, Elsie's suspicion was confirmed: they were the only people in the space.
"Elsie, look!" The woman found herself being firmly pushed towards a section of black dresses. "Perfect conducting attire right there, just waiting for you!"
"You know as well as I that those most of those are not an appropriate length for conducting, Beryl!" She snorted at this, hardly intimidated by her friend's cross tone.
"I'm sure Mr. Carson won't mind!" She continued on, ignoring her dear friend's scandalized expression. "'Sides, all you said was that it had to be black. Never said anything about the length."
Only Beryl Patmore was foolis- brave enough to say such things to Elsie's face. Luckily, before any scathing remarks were made, the shop assistant materialized seemingly out of nowhere.
"If you're interested in something grander," Both Elsie and Beryl jumped at the sound. "We have more extravagant dresses in the back of the shop."
"Do you now?"
_._
For the next few days, time seemed to be waltz by any and all who were to perform at the dance. There were dips of tension in the form of, "But, you already have a date for the dance?" and twirls of drama in cries of just how "unfair" it was that "as a performer, I can't just enjoy the show!"
And, soon enough, November 30th was spinning into the 1st of December.
_._
They'd arrived a little before everyone else, so as to stay true to their academic obligations and make sure everything was in order.
At least, that was his excuse. Hers was wanting to finally see Downton Abbey from the inside.
Well, now's as good as any a time to finally ask her about it.
"Mrs. Hughes, I was wondering: will Mr. -" He finally started to ask, turning back to his companion.
"Have you ever seen such a hall?" She hadn't heard him at all, rather entranced by the ornate set-up. "I haven't seen such a festive or grand place in quite a while."
With the enormous tree and the beautiful lights adorning much of the Main Hall, that meant the instrumentalists and singers would be stationed on the balcony if they couldn't fit on the main floor. This would give the hall the closest equivalent to "surround sound" possible, while allowing the performers from needing a great deal of stage presence. And, just from listening to the noise in the space, she could tell that it would have fantastic resonance and the likes.
In short, Elsie Hughes was really very impressed.
"This is your first Winter Ball, I take it?" Charles couldn't help but ask with only a hint of audacity. She sent him a look for it and, instead of repeating his first question, he took the coward's way out. "I must admit that when Downton Abbey is decorated like this, I can't help but imagine what it would be like to live in such a place."
"I can certainly understand that. Though," She faltered in her train of thought. "I don't know if I really would want to live with all the glamour and prestige."
"What about glamour and prestige?" Beryl had snuck up on them, positively grinning at the fact that she knew she surprised them.
"I take it the students are arriving then?" Charles asked, feeling a little disappointed now that the band director had joined them, oddly enough.
"They are indeed." She cocked an eyebrow at his reaction, deciding to dismiss any further thought about it. "But, before we get this party started,"
The woman held up a reusable bag filled with what looked to be quite stunning clothes. Charles watched the revealing of this bag with interest - noting that Elsie seemed to stiffen at its presence.
Curiouser and curiouser.
"Are you sure that's quite necessary?" Beryl sent her a look that spoke of a very long story Charles was certainly not privy to.
"Yes, I am."
"But, what I'm wearing is perfectly acceptable." And it was - she currently wore a sensible black dress that was buttoned all the way. Full sleeves accompanied the piece to give the woman the look of the classic, and classically stern, teacher. It was an outfit that was only slightly more conservative than what the woman normally wore.
So, frankly, it hadn't even occurred to Charles, after seeing his colleague this evening, that she would choose to wear something else for this evening. Though, there may have been a previous wonderment of what exactly she'd be wearing in the first place.
"What you are wearing belongs to the Edwardian era, Elsie, not the 21st century!"
"But-"
"I suspect that we may need to appease Mrs. Patmore in order to have a successful evening." Elsie swiveled around to glare at him, but he was far too fascinated with whatever was in that bag to be intimidated by her this time. "Don't worry about setting up; I'll take care of it."
"Thank you, Mr. Carson, you're a very wise man. And I promise you won't regret this." Beryl, her grin returning tenfold as she dragged the other woman in the direction of the current changing rooms.
"If set-up goes awry, Mr. Carson, don't go blaming me." Elsie chose to warn instead of thank him like her infuriating friend just did. "And if half the attendees are scarred for life, you can absolutely blame Beryl."
_._
"Come on, Edith, Mary - we'll be late!" Sybil was already dressed in the appropriate concert attire, waiting for her sisters at the door.
"We'll be right down, Sybil!"
Which was the same thing that Edith had informed her about fifteen minutes ago.
Oh, why couldn't Tom be here already?
_._
"Don't say I didn't warn you," They came back less than thirty minutes later, both women now dressed for the evening.
"Oh, yeah, you look real awful." Beryl quipped with an eye roll.
It's true that everyone always looked quite sharp at these sorts of occasions - honestly, it was one of the aspects that Charles really enjoyed most about this.
But, even with that in mind, it hadn't struck him just how entrancing Elsie would look until she was walking towards him.
_._
The students were the second group to arrive - having to help with setting up along with their teachers.
Though, once John got a glimpse of Anna, any idea of helping with the set-up was lost to him.
"You look lovely," He quietly remarked, watching her head his way. Now, she was wearing the same gown every woman in Advanced Mixed did.
But, on her, it was as though she were the only singer in the world wearing it.
The dress was sleeveless, having been made in an A-line style. There was a white satin sash right underneath the bust line that tied together in the back. This sash of white complemented the bateau neckline that kept the lack of sleeves from classifying the dress as "risque". And the black fabric that formed the overall piece seemed to float above the ground, not quite shimmering in the light but not quite absorbing the light for that matter.
He found himself quite transfixed by it all, especially by the way she wore it.
"I think it's an acrylic knit of sorts. Mum said something about sateen, but there's no tag on it to say either way." He blinked at this, not caring the least about the name of the fabric. "I had wondered the same myself when I first saw them."
She glanced around, absolutely oblivious to the effect that her presence had on him.
"Have you seen Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes?"
"Erm," He was normally one for silence, but it seemed that this evening was to be different in more than one way.
"Oh, never mind - they look busy." Anna took a closer look. "Mrs. Hughes looks quite lovely! Wouldn't you say, John?"
He briefly turned to the teachers, but couldn't take his eyes off her.
"Yeah. Lovely."
She still was absolutely oblivious.
_._
Charles didn't truly want to perform tonight. Not when he could simply observe the room and converse with the beautiful woman before him.
"So, just to run through the order once more," Elsie began to speak. Little did she know, she could have proposed to burn down the school to Charles and he would have said yes without a second thought - that's how distracted he was.
Beryl watched them both with amusement, mentally busting up with laughter at the interaction.
Elsie's dress, the cause of such distraction, did have similarities to the first piece of the evening. Both dresses were black and both had sleeves coming almost to her wrists. Both did come off as tastefully conservative, and both certainly wouldn't cause any sort of scandal within the music department of Downton Academy.
It also just so happened that the dress she now wore was found to be far more fitting of the 21st century.
Unlike the dress of the Advanced Mixed ensemble, Elsie's contained no sash. And, unlike her first dress of the evening, she no longer gave the impression of being Professor McGonagall for the modern-day school.
The beading blended splendidly into lace and tulle with the princess-like shape regally flaring out at the bottom. As she moved, whether that was through gestures or walking, the gown shimmered with a poised refinement. It glowed proudly within the room, reflecting the beautifully soft lighting that filled the hall with uncanny ease. Furthermore, the gown itself was quite flattering for Elsie as a whole, hugging her form rather nicely without making it seem vulgar or tasteless. In particular, it had drawn attention to lovely aspects to the woman that Charles had never taken the time to truly notice or appreciate.
In short, she made the grandeur of Downton Abbey look cheap in comparison.
And he really couldn't stop staring.
Charles hadn't been able to take his eyes off her when she first came into sight. And though he wasn't drooling or gaping like some of the other attendees tonight certainly would be, he certainly couldn't deny that her gown this evening had quite the impact on him.
Moreover, upon her turning towards Beryl, the man noticed that the back of the dress exposed much more than he anticipated. He also realized that her skin was far more stunning than he had previously noted - the milky white shade adding even more to the exhilarating, bewitching radiance about her.
These realizations only made the room seem a bit hotter than expected - which certainly hadn't a problem Charles had had in previous years. Additionally, these realizations provoked more whispers of dizzying hope within him - hope that craved more than "pat-a-cake" friendship or the kindred companionship that came from working close with lovely colleagues.
There was just one problem:
He couldn't intentionally do anything as long as she carried that ring. So long as Mr. Hughes remained in the picture - as invisible as the man seemed to be in this moment - Charles would be overstepping absolutely no boundaries. They would be the best of coworkers, maybe even brilliant friends.
But there would be nothing more.
"Mr. Carson, is my dress truly that distasteful?" She noticed his frown, though he had hidden it well. "I knew I should've just kept on the first dress and called it a day."
"Certainly not!" He spoke without thinking, having been stuck in his thoughts. "To say you look stunning or gorgeous, Mrs. Hughes, would be to call this hall 'pretty'. And if you were to shed this magnificent ensemble in favor of that first dress, an item that is now hardly deserving of that privilege, you would be doing the maker of this gorgeous gown a grave disservice."
Elsie felt a blush spread across her cheeks and throughout her body, rather taken aback by the unexpectedly high praise. Having heard such a statement, she was quite willing to go on wearing the dress for the evening. So willing was she, that the woman felt the urge to quickly reassure her friend that she had no intention of changing her outfit now.
"Don't worry, Mr. Carson: in honor of such a compliment, I can assure you that you'll be the first to know when I'm 'shedding this ensemble'."
Only after the words were stated did she realize that they could be interpreted in quite an indecorous fashion.
But it was too late:
Charles was now matching the carpet while Beryl was grasping the closest table for any support - indulging in quite an undignified guffaw.
_._
"Do you think they're alright?" Daisy stood near William, having heard Mrs. Patmore's laughter all the way from the other side of the room. "I've never seen Mr. Carson or Mrs. Hughes so red before!"
William looked in the direction in question, observing the teachers for a few seconds.
"I think it'd be best to leave them be until it's time to sing, Daisy." He eventually said, before ushering her towards to the food.
"If you say so."
_._
Soon enough, Mrs. Bird joined her colleagues - watching them recover from whatever joke she had missed. While she was frustrated to have missed a funny moment, she was somewhat mollified by the fact that the choir director was still deeply blushing from whatever had been said. Not only that, but the only person who may have been blushing more was Mrs. Hughes.
That made for quite an interesting innuendo. And Beryl would undoubtedly be filling her in at a more appropriate time.
Luckily for the pair, their bosses were now entering the building - allowing for a breath of decorum and professionalism to descend among the quartet of teachers.
"Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes, Mrs. Patmore, Mrs. Bird, we're so looking forward to the evening's performances!" Cora warmly greeted them upon entering the space, wearing a gorgeous periwinkle gown that absolutely complemented the woman. "Was I correct in hearing that there will be a shift in our traditional set-up?"
"That would be quite correct, Mrs. Crawley." Charles spoke for the group, having taught at Downton the longest. "We decided it would be best for the choirs to start the night off before alternating between the band, orchestra, and choir. And there will be a wonderful range of music, from Bach to Ola Gjeilo."
"Well," Robert looked a little out of his league with the conversation's material. But he seemed to be making up for it with enthusiasm. "I'm sure we will be for quite the treat!"
"I couldn't agree more," Elsie stated, as Beryl and May verbalized their own agreements.
And so, with more and more guests arriving, the Winter Ball officially began.
_._
"On Christmas Day,
In the morning!"
Mrs. Hughes encouraged the Beginner Choir to hold out their notes for just a few more seconds as Mr. Carson carried on at the keyboard sequestered in the corner.
"On Christmas Day in the morning!"
The bell ringers of the bunch chimed at the appropriate times, the ladies had even more smiles than normal, and it was with a sigh of relief that Elsie was able to take finally join the party - if only for a few moments.
"We'll take it from here, Mrs. Hughes," Mrs. Bird quietly spoke to the woman, sending her off in the direction of the punch as her instrumentalists took the places of the singers.
_._
"When did you eat last?"
He'd heard her stomach growl, did he?
"I'm not sure." It wasn't so much of a lie as it was simply not focusing on recalling the truth.
"We have a few minutes before the next song. Please make sure to eat something in the meantime." She silently asked for more patience with the man, hungry enough to become more than a little frustrated with the mother-hen tone she was now receiving.
"Mr. Carson-"
"I would hate for you to suffer or collapse in the name of music, Mrs. Hughes." Elsie glanced at him as he continued. "Besides, if you were to collapse, I doubt you'd find your options for resuscitation all that desirable."
An eyebrow raised, silently challenging his statement.
"Don't tell me; Violet Crawley is the only one who knows CPR?" She dryly threw out the thought, causing him to quietly chuckle.
"Not quite." He looked away briefly, admiring the band ensemble now performing. "The nearest certified person would be myself, actually."
She paused a moment, thinking it over. This was a dangerous game being played, especially with her feelings that incessantly continued to grow over the last few weeks.
And it's not only that, she thought to herself, glancing down at the ring still adorning her finger. What had normally been a joyous symbol was now something she felt unusually detached about.
But her feelings and that ring were also the two things that dictated the need for more consideration than normal.
"Although I have no interest in collapsing today," Elsie began quietly, almost too softly to be heard. "The options for 'resuscitation' do not necessarily sound undesirable."
Charles froze, not sure as to what she was really saying.
"And, now, we welcome the Bel Canto choir with a fantastic a cappella version of 'Carol of the Bells'!"
He chose to feign ignorance in lieu of harming his relationship as they returned to their spots.
_._
"It's like clockwork, isn't it?" Mrs. Patmore remarked to her orchestral comrade in arms as they observed Bel Canto ladies in action. Currently, most of the women were in the process of imitating bells whilst the first sopranos carried the melody.
"One seems to hear,
Words of good cheer!"
"Only, it probably doesn't feel like clockwork to her, does it?" To her credit, Mrs. Hughes was a professional who hid her tiredness and frazzled energy quite well.
The only problem was, the other professional performers in the room could see right through it.
Though, unlike the choir director, they could do something about it.
_._
Beryl approached her friend with a small plate of hor d'oeuvres and enough obstinacy to get her to accept said plate.
Charles at least had more finesse in his own request.
"Are you sure you don't want to take a moment to sit down in order to eat? I'm sure the Men's Ensemble would be happy to step in ahead of schedule. And we would not require your presence, not if you needed to sit."
"No, Mr. Carson, I'll be fine." Really, it's not as though she hadn't done several events just like this in her younger years. After all, you had to be quite flexible as a performer if you wanted to make a living out of it.
Her only problem was, her younger years were not her current years.
And, not only Elsie was running through a whirlwind of emotions mixed with adrenaline, she was also ignoring her body's need to take it easy in order to keep the show running.
Elsie would have to officially stop soon - that's for certain.
But, as she started to consume the delicious food, she grew even more determined to finish off conducting before she finally sat down again.
_._
"The angels came down with one cry,"
And in a minute, so would her back.
"A fair song that night sung they."
If she didn't have to do anything involving "fair songs" for the rest of night, she'd die a happy woman.
"In worship of that child,"
No more worshipping or conducting for Elsie Hughes. Once this last segment was completed, she could retire to the piano in peace.
"Gloria tibi Domine!"
Her hands held out their notes with practiced ease. Only once an appropriate crescendo was reached did she finally let them go and had them gently fall back down to her sides.
_._
"There is something to be said for back-to-back performances that really aren't back-to-back, Mr. Carson." He glanced back at her questioningly, glad they finally were done with every ensemble. For now, she could take a proper break before the finale at the end of the dance.
"Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Hughes?"
"The normal adrenaline rush that carries you through a whole concert seems to come and go repeatedly in a set-up like this. In some ways, I'd prefer a straight-through two-hour performance at a concert over these 5 minute sets." She was still all smiles when she admitted this, seeing as how they were still walking through their audience. But, he could detect the weary feeling underneath the happy demeanor.
He wanted to help her any way he could. And seeing as how it was still far too hot in the room, he felt it only appropriate to offer a suggestion that might help.
"Mrs. Hughes, would you care to take a walk around the gardens?" Elsie looked up at this. "The air could be quite refreshing."
"Perhaps later. Right now, I just want a place to sit." He refrained from offering one of the benches in the gardens, knowing that the cold weather wouldn't necessarily be that kind to them if they sat outside.
"Mr. Carson," It was Cora, calling him away for something. "I wanted to ask you something about the choirs, if you have a moment."
"Go on," Elsie said, that smile becoming a little more strained than it had been a second ago. "I'll find a place to rest. And, no worries - I won't be back on my feet for quite a bit."
He didn't particularly care to walk in the direction of Mrs. Crawley, now that it was beginning to register just how tired his colleague was. His fellow choir teacher had leaned on him more than normal as they walked, her eyes held a look of tired determination to maintain the show, and the fact that she was not fighting him on the matter spoke of how much she required rest.
But being called away was probably for the best. Seeing Elsie in such a state seemed to throw all thoughts of propriety out of the window. He found himself wanting to guide her away from the dance altogether, to carry her out of Downton Abbey and take her somewhere she could rest uninterrupted. But that train of thought led to reminiscing over her earlier comment - a comment that he recognized was spoken from an innocent mind, but a comment that provoked several images that were absolutely not appropriate.
In short, his control was slipping. And Charles could not afford that. Why it was doing so in the first place was a mystery he certainly didn't care for. But, it was also an enigma he had no time to understand.
"Mr. Carson," For, unfortunately, Cora was not the only one calling for him.
And Violet Crawley was not someone that one could afford to lose control around.
_._
Elsie had meant to find a chair or bench to sit down on, but ended up wandering down some stairs and into what had to be the downstairs area. Honestly, by this point, she was quite close to just curling up on the floor - even if it'd end up making a mess of what was currently her best performance dress.
Luckily, the woman had made a right turn after the stairs and found a stool waiting her in what had to have once been the kitchen. And once she had sat down, the eventful week finally caught up with her - to the point where she found herself closing her eyes for a minute and resting her head against the table in relief.
Elsie didn't know how long she ended up dozing. Nor did she know if she missed any crucial part to the Winter Ball. The choir teacher only knew that she found herself waking up to the sound of footsteps some time later. And, before she could think her actions through, she heard herself unwittingly addressing the sound.
"Hello?" She felt a bit foolish for calling out, seeing as how her calling out is what halted the footsteps.
"Mrs. Hughes?" Charles was one of the last people she expected to see down here, especially with the party still in full swing.
"Mr. Carson, what brings you here?" He looked a bit taken aback by her also being here, but eventually answered the question.
"While the style of upstairs always intrigues me," He started to confess, having stopped in the entrance of the hall he'd been wandering. "I find myself repeatedly drawn to this space over the years." She nodded, understanding both his answer and the appeal.
"What room were you walking towards? If I may ask."
He turned, looking back at the door with a sense of inquisition.
"It's the butler's pantry, Mrs. Hughes." He stated, almost walking back to it now. She stood up from the stool, slowly walking towards him while scanning her surroundings.
"Which would probably make that the room for the housekeeper," She figured, pointing to another nearby. He glanced back at her, intrigued by her guess - seeing as how it happened to be an accurate assessment.
"I do know more than it may seem, Mr. Carson. Though, in this case, it was just instinct."
"I have no doubt of your intelligence, Mrs. Hughes. I am simply taken aback by how knowledgeable you truly are." She directed her gaze away from these rooms and back towards him, blushing at the praise once more.
That's twice that you've made me blush this evening, Mr. Carson, is what she wants to coyly whisper as she demurely advances. She even wants to "unintentionally" close the space between them and corner him, all the while softly murmuring that it's her turn to repay the favor.
She doesn't.
Elsie chose to stay right where she was, content to observe everything. His emotions are something she still can't fully read, unintentionally causing her own feelings to become questionable. And in this space, in this quiet little hideaway from the world, it almost felt like anything could go.
There was definitely a change between them tonight.
And there certainly something that was different about this whole evening.
Maybe it was the fact that they weren't in the school. The realization that they didn't have to be choir instructors within these precious minutes. Perhaps it was the fact that they were both dressed to the nines, running on the rush of creating vocal excellency. It may have even been that the adrenaline that always came with performing was quite possibly pushing all decorum and reason away this evening.
It could be that they both like each other, plain and simple. That, underneath his prestigious bluster and her teasing wit there lay a fondness that wanted to delve into something far more intimate.
She likes to think that that is it.
But, she believes that's not reality.
This is her colleague. Someone who is incredibly professional and is always focused on bringing forth the most decorum possible. This is the man who prides himself on maintaining as much propriety as possible, who prefers a world full of refinement and elegance over gaudy displays of emotion.
Whatever Elsie may feel for Charles couldn't possibly reflect anything that he would feel for her. And, even if he did feel some sort of desire, he didn't know the truth behind her ring. Therefore, he would never engage in any sort of behavior and she wouldn't want him to - not without knowing the whole story.
Because if he did, it wouldn't be him.
And frankly, the woman's far too tired for these sorts of thoughts. Tonight should've been an elegant breeze, reminding her of the joys that came with grand parties. Instead it's brought her to this tranquil, old-fashioned area that she still doesn't want to leave. It's given her endless fantasies swathed in charmeuse and dazzling shades of black - but fantasies that can't be anything other than fictional.
Her purpose now is to teach and direct. Relationships not of a platonic nature would only cause distraction for her and unwittingly harm her students' development as singers. And the only person she has these irrational desires for is the one person who understands how much more important it is to enrich the lives of their charges.
The decision in this moment is clear, with this realization. She feels it's time to get back to where they were most likely needed, before they do something they both regret.
"Shall we rejoin the others then?" She finds herself offering the party as an excuse to leave this entrancing space, to go back to normality. Because this is the only appropriate thing they can do, to leave this little hideaway and rejoin a necessary reality.
"Before we do," She had already begun to turn away when he eventually spoke, "Is this your first time downstairs?"
Elsie found herself turning back to Charles, except he's somehow closer than he'd been a moment ago. Much closer and much more interested in her than the downstairs area, it seemed.
"Mr. Carson," She began to dryly remind him, "As I mentioned to you before, this is the first time I've been in this house."
He smiled, silently conceding the fact that he already knew the answer to his question.
"In that case," Charles gently offered his arm, letting the other gesture to the area around them. "I do believe a proper tour is in order."
The party must've gotten to him, if he felt this was appropriate. She herself was struggling to withhold her confusion at this offer.
"Wouldn't this 'tour' be abandoning the dance?" He almost scoffed, much to her surprise.
"They will be engaged with frivolities for at least another forty more minutes. So long as we return in time to conduct the final song, we won't be missed." At this sound reasoning, she couldn't help but accept his offered arm.
He brightened at this, unintentionally taking away all thoughts on why this was probably a terrible idea with just his beaming gaze.
And, so, they proceeded to begin the tour.
"Now, although I do have an admiration for Downton Abbey as a whole, I confess you would be missing something quite integral if you ignore the downstairs."
"Is that so?"
"Yes." He brought them to a stop, and she looked back to meet his gaze once more. "For, the grandeur and the style of the house would have relied on these people."
She nodded, able to draw a fitting comparison immediately.
"These are your baritones who maneuver everywhere possible to fill in any gaps. Your basses and altos that support the necessary, beautiful foundation. The people that allow the sopranos and tenors to soar above the rest of us." He echoed her nod as they continued to start walking once more.
"Now, you and I know that each part within a choir is integral. Furthermore, we both know that each part is magnificent in its own right, and that it is imperative to recognize that. That to not acknowledge this or to demean even one of them is frankly abhorrent."
"Indeed." Adrenaline wasn't coming back to guide her steps this time. Now, it was a simple curiosity that brought her forth.
"As such, wouldn't you agree that it is vital we pay our respects?" A reassuring fascination began to guide them both through the hallways.
"Absolutely." It was a calming thought, paying respects to these people.
Furthermore, the sopranos and tenors could wait a few more minutes.
_._
Beryl looked around the glamour and the glitter, desperate to find a friend - even said friend had to come in the form of Violet Crawley.
"Mrs. Patmore? Is everything alright?" Well, he wasn't Elsie, but he would suffice.
"Oh, Mr. Mason," She said, relief more evident than she'd have liked. "Am I glad to have found you."
And just in time, too.
"Beryl? Is that you?" She internally cringed as Jos Tufton, her now ex-husband, approached them.
"Mr. Tufton," She began, trying not to sound irritated that he was still following her around after she had already repeatedly said she wasn't interested in ever seeing him again. "What brings you here tonight?"
"Well, as you know, I am one of the finest food suppliers for Downton Academy. As such, I simply had to come by and inspect the best of the best properly." He even had the nerve to wink at her with a bumptious grin as he spoke - as though these actions were "endearing" after everything that had happened between the two of them.
"Yes, well," Mrs. Patmore gestured to the food that was on the other side of the room, "I do believe your inspection will have to happen over there."
"Of course. As it happens, I was wondering if I could have the pleasure of a dance first? For old times sake?"
It had only been a few months since they finally were officially divorced and he still wanted to play this sort of game with her?
How dare he - Mr. Mason began to speak up, to interject and say something in defense of his friend, but he never got the chance.
"Oh, I am sorry, Mr. Tufton." Though Beryl didn't sound sorry in the slightest. "But I just promised Mr. Mason the next few dances."
"I see." The arrogant grin faded a bit, much to their unashamed delight. "Well, I best be off then."
He lumbered off in retreat, heading back towards the food. Beryl sighed in relief, irritated he had asked in the first place and grateful he'd left her alone.
Honestly, the only reason she was still calling herself "Mrs. Patmore" - even when married she'd never been "Mrs. Tufton" at Downton Academy - was because some part of her clung to the idea of marriage. It felt foolish and childish to do so, but it was still true.
And it was also something she didn't really want to think about tonight.
"Don't worry, Mr. Mason," She remarked to her friend, who was still quiet. "You're free to go."
"And miss the pleasure of your company? I'd rather not." He took in her own simple, yet elegant black attire: the full sleeves and floor length allowed for the off-the-shoulder neckline to feel dazzling instead of dismaying for the woman. And the ornamental silver clasped the front of the dress shimmered ever so lovely in the light.
She smiled at his statement, choosing to shrug in response.
"In that case, shall we?"
But, thought Mr. Tufton would be leaving Beryl Patmore alone, he wasn't done making trouble for the night….
_._
They made it back from the downstairs area with time to spare - the party was still in full swing, everyone was either dancing or enjoying themselves in some other fashion, and Robert looked nowhere near ready to make start making his final remarks for the evening.
"Well, it looks like our timing was perfect." The choir teacher murmured to him as discreetly as she could. The director nodded, eyes still scanning for any sign of trouble.
The problem was, trouble was about to come in far closer than he could have anticipated.
"Oh, pardon me, ma'am." Charles felt Elsie almost get pushed into him with dismay, quickly catching her as the stranger passed through.
"Watch where you're going!" Charles found himself saying, finding himself rather taken aback by the stranger's careless audacity.
"Quite sorry about that I am, really." The stranger, a stocky man who probably just barely reached Mrs. Patmore's height, leered at her - much to both of their disdain. "I hope it wasn't too disagreeable an incident."
Charles didn't particularly care for his tone, nor for the way that Elsie's own voice had stiffened considerably when she next spoke.
"Mr. Tufton, I presume?" There was a hint of vexation in it, one that the voice director was glad it was not directed at him for once.
"I see my reputation precedes me." His toothy grin expanded at this, and the man gave a slight bow in her direction. "And who might you be, dearie?"
Someone too worthy to be in your presence, that's for sure. Came the dark, scathing thought.
"I am Elsie Hughes, one of the choir teachers at Downton."
"'Elsie Hughes'? And what a nice name it is, too!" He fixed his gaze and his grin on her in a manner Charles most certainly did not approve of. "Would you care for a dance, Miss Elsie Hughes? It'd be quite agreeable for me, of that I can assure you."
The choir director felt her bristle, knowing that her irritation was bubbling into proper ire. And, truly, he knew by now that she wasn't the type of person to let people speak for her when she was getting that angry.
But, even with that knowledge, he couldn't help it.
"Mrs. Hughes," He interjected boldly, "Actually has no interest, seeing as how she has already promised me a dance."
And before Mr. Tufton had a chance to respond, Charles was already guiding them back towards the dance floor.
"Has she now?" His companion asked after a while, and he blanched at this - clearly having forgotten himself. Moreover, what would Mr. Hughes think of this matter - if the man ever showed up?
"Mrs. Hughes, I am sorry." She raised an eyebrow at this, "I just couldn't stand the sight of such an appalling man trying to take advantage of you."
"Never mind that now." She dismissed the apology, not truly upset. Furthermore, she did understand where her colleague was coming from, even if his approach wasn't quite one she'd approve of. "Though I do believe he's still watching us."
"In that case, might I make a peculiar request?" Elsie looked at him, waiting for the request to be revealed.
"I'm on the edge of my seat, Mr. Carson," She couldn't help remarking after a moment, quite curious. "Do tell."
"Mr. Carson, there you are! I just wanted to say how delightful this evening has been so far, especially listening to the choirs!"
Isobel Crawley really had the worse of timing sometimes. Elsie Hughes greatly admired the woman for her wit, her blunt attitude, and her ability to show kindness towards others in the world.
But, right now, she felt no fondness for the woman.
_._
The closing remarks, fueled by alcohol and merriment, were surprisingly short and sweet. And, now, it was time for every choir student to take their place on the balcony for one final, enchanting song.
_._
Much to her surprise, Elsie had the privilege of conducting the last piece. They had briefly bickered beforehand, she feeling that she didn't have the right and he being of the belief that she should conduct one of the songs she brought into the choirs.
Eventually, she was persuaded - maybe by the pleading look in his eyes, or the fact that he was being rather sweet about this - to take charge of the choirs one last time for the evening.
"Ladies and gentlemen," She announced from the balcony. "Our final piece this evening will be performed by all the Downton choirs. We will be singing 'O Magnum Mysterium', also referred to as 'Serenity', by Ola Gjeilo. We hope that you enjoy this divine piece."
She made sure everyone was in their stations before she did anything else. Many singers took to the balconies, many more blended into the crowd on the main floor.
All were waiting for her hands to rise into the air and begin the last performance for the evening.
_._
"Dominum,"
Elsie was pleased to report that the singers had not lost any of their energy throughout the evening.
"Christum,"
Nor did the crowd, for that matter.
"Alleluia."
She finally let her hands sink back to her sides, after the singers held out the last magnificent notes. When the applause came, she could only smile and refrained, directing the applause towards the people most deserving - the choirs, the cellist, and Mr. Carson.
He, of course, gestured right back at her - as though to command the audience to also clap for her.
Naturally, they happily complied.
_._
Cleaning up after dinner and a show was always made easier when there was classical music playing in the background. And, thanks to the wonders of Pandora, the students didn't need to stay behind and continue playing as the teachers went about tidying the place.
_._
"Mrs. Hughes, I do believe we've forgotten something." She was distracted by casting her gaze over the hall for the twentieth time that hour. They had already sent Beryl and May off for the evening, having said that they could take care of everything else.
"What have we forgotten, Mr. Carson?" He was silent for a moment, having thought his next words through for quite a little while now.
"Earlier, when Mrs. Crawley had interrupted us to compliment the choirs," Something he had not really cared for at the time, even if it did help his choirs. "I had been attempting to make what I still believe will come off as a peculiar request."
She faintly smiled at this, having been curious about the matter since he'd last spoken of it.
"And, just what is this 'peculiar' request?" He took a moment to himself, hoping that this wouldn't seem too forward or overstepping his bounds with this.
"May I have this next dance?"
Elsie's eyes widened slightly, her breath stopped for a moment, and she just stood there - stunned. Walking around to give a tour is one thing, dancing is quite a different matter altogether.
And one that made her rethink her earlier belief that he shared none of her feelings.
"I do hope you're not asking because of obligations. I'd hate for you to feel that you have to dance with me now just because you told Mr. Tufton as such."
"It has nothing to do with obligation." Far from it.
Heavens, Elsie couldn't help but think, unsure of what he was trying to imply. Her protesting thoughts from earlier were struggling to form coherent reason. This wasn't wrong per se, but to indulge in dancing of all things would surely cross some a line - something he might deeply regret after tonight.
"Of course, I understand if you'd rather not." Charles began to speak up again, beginning to widen the space between them even though he had hardly moved. He straightened up, trying to regain some form of propriety as his eyes reflected a painful disappointment.
And suddenly she knew her true feelings.
Not only that, she knew that this was right, as nerve-wracking as it may seem. That, regardless of what came next, this was exactly where they were supposed to be and this was what they were supposed to do.
"You misunderstand me." It was the only thing she could think of saying. And, it did stop him in his tracks. His eyes now held a questioning look within them, waiting for her to explain.
But, instead of trying to verbally reassure him that this truly was what she wanted, Elsie settled for something a bit more tangible:
The woman stepped forward to close the space between them. She then gently reached out to take his right hand, stopping before she grasped it.
"May I?"
"You may."
He was unsure of what was next but equally willing to trust her, watching her guide his hand to rest on her back.
"Thank you." For the trust.
After a moment, Elsie allowed hers own right hand to slowly take his left and bring them both towards the appropriate spot.
"It would be a great pleasure to have this dance, Charles." He exhaled sharply, disbelievingly, at this. For not only had she finally spoken his Christian name she was now resting her left hand on his shoulder.
It was not the scandalous intimacy that came with the tango. But, it certainly was the closest they had ever stood.
And it was within this span of a minute, these precious seconds of silence, that propriety and professionalism finally faded away.
Her eyes twinkled, her smile bit more shy than before. The piece playing on her phone ended at that exact moment, quiet only for a second as a sweeping orchestra began to fill the air and take hold of their attention.
"Strauss's 'An der schönen blauen Donau'."
"Or, 'The Blue Danube' for us who have no desire to butcher the original German."
They both shared a light laugh at this, starting to step in time as the string sections continued - blending in with the incoming brass.
"Are you sure you're alright with what will be at least nine minutes of waltzing? We still have a little left to clean up."
He smiled, choosing his words with great consideration.
"I do believe, Elsie," For, in this moment, he couldn't address her in any other fashion. "That we can afford what is already proving to be a great pleasure."