Conversations with the Man Upstairs

by BorneToFlow

Mrs Hughes struggles with the idea of becoming a property magnate with Mr Carson. Mrs Patmore lends some friendly and timely advice. Consistent with my particular headcanon. I need to account for Elsie turning down the option to buy the property, given that she harbours no fiscal/sisterly burdens in my version of who Elsie is. Some canon dialogue will be rejigged to suit my S5 aims

15. Ch 15—A Suitor's Deliberations

Conversations with the Man Upstairs— Chapter 15: A Suitor's Deliberations

A/N: It has been a long time, so I apologise for a chapter that seems somewhat rambling. However, I think it suits the mood I want to present Carson with for this chapter. As I am nearing the completion of this fiction, I realise that it somewhat mimics Elsie's mood in Chapter 1.

I have not watched the series closely in a long while, so I realise that I am playing fast and loose with things like 'who' in the Abbey knows 'what' about His Lordship's pre-Christmas ulcer. Likewise, regarding when Andy came back into the house and the realistic amount of time it would take for Baxter and Molesley to coordinate half days off to visit about 40-60 pubs in York. According to my pre-Christmas calendar in this fiction, I have Baxter and Molesley cramming that amount of stops into merely a few days over two weeks. All somewhat unrealistic for servants who only get a half-day off plus Sunday church every week- at most! Meh. I think it all works well enough for my particular headcanon if you squint!

There are also elements of Charles' deliberations here that feed into a more nuanced picture of some characters that will be presented more fully across my other fiction: Half the Story Hidden.

Thanks to everyone for sticking with me and reviewing my work thus far. Ephemera will be finished one day too.

I hope this story will make you all happy in the end.

Kind regards,

BTF

oOOo

Date: Friday 11th December 1925

It is a mild irritation to Carson that Mrs Hughes would think him utterly oblivious to the adjustments to the staff roster that she has managed to wangle him around to regarding Mr Molesley.

Does she think I would not notice that her duties have expanded to attending to Lady Grantham's morning dressings because of Miss Baxter's absences from the Abbey on the same half-days off that Mr Molesley is taking? Honestly!

Charles knows that something is afoot since Mr Bates' hasty exit to unknown climes. However, the Butler has long ago learnt to trust his housekeeper again with all manner of intrigues. It was, however, a very hard-earned trust on Mrs Hughes' part. Nevertheless, Carson has trusted Mrs Hughes ever since they had it all out with one another in no uncertain terms, and at quite some volume, regarding Mrs Hughes keeping Anna's attack secret from him for far longer than was prudent.* Together they had negotiated a pact when the dust finally settled on that particularly epic bout of the head-butting. Namely: if it is not a matter that would directly impact the safety of the inhabitants of the Abbey (especially the security of any of the ladies from either upstairs or down); and, if the chances of scandal are not deemed overly high (despite the unspoken acknowledgement that Mr Carson's idea of what constitutes a scandalous disaster for the Crawleys is ever going to be held at a much lower threshold than it is for Mrs Hughes); then, Mr Carson would acquiesce to the housekeeper's argument that she needs to be relied upon in her judgements with regards to getting some things done about the Abbey in a manner that only a woman's touch could attain. Or, as Mr Carson did not avoid imperiously telling her at the time: "as only a woman's 'plotting' could manage!" For Carson had to maintain at least some face, given Mrs Hughes' unwarranted interferences with Ethel, plus the sneaking of one particular crumpled letter from his wastepaper basket and then plotting to foist the dubious Charlie Griggs back at him to strut and fret once more upon the stage of Charles' life. These former disagreements could not help but rise to the surface of all of his chagrin towards Mrs Hughes at the height of their epic 'Anna and Green Battle'.

For her part, Elsie was, admittedly, hard-pressed to deny the sting in the tail of Mr Carson's 'plotter' accusation at that time. However, it was with a huff and roll of her eyes that she had left his pantry that day, only narrowly curbing her powerful inclination to fully flounce out of his domain with a flick of her skirts and a disdainful toss of her head. After all, she did have to maintain some face! Mrs Hughes was certainly not about to openly thank Mr Carson for the ground that he had ceded to her back then—not with how upset he had been at the beginning of that particularly fraught set of conversations about Anna's attack. Nevertheless, the dust did eventually settle between them and Mrs Hughes has not given Mr Carson any reason to doubt her skills in 'feminine plotting' ever since that time. Indeed, for this particular run of plotting, Carson can silently acknowledge that Mrs Hughes' discreet greasing of various social wheels has actually worked well to shield him. It seems that a slew of minor irritations and petty concerns have not even dared to darken his pantry doorway at this busy time of year and his blood pressure has been healthier because of it. And so, despite the uneasiness he felt when they were re-drawing their professional and personal boundaries after that monstrous disagreement about the despicable Green, Charles knows it has ended up being a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Hmmm…We always manage to get there in the end and stay on each other's side, in some way or another. Together.

And so, a reminder to himself of that fundamental truth allows Charles to travel in some hope regarding Mrs Hughes' current secretive staff rostering machinations.

In fact, with this latest bit of feminine plotting with regards to Baxter and Molesley's time off before Christmas, Mrs Hughes has managed to give Carson some additional reasons to be attending to His Lordship as a valet with a minimum of fuss or questioning stares from His Lordship or any nosey underlings. Given that Carson is now discreetly aware of Lord Grantham's physical ailment, he much prefers that he has been able to keep watch over His Lordship more closely.

In addition, Charles is somehow managing this with little complaint or questioning from Barrow. Carson is keeping that simpering little git's ego inflated by commanding that the Under Butler handle more of the dinner services when it is merely the family dining at home in the lead-up to Christmas. Thankfully, Barrow is also supporting young Andrew's ongoing training in some of the more intricate details of Downton's and Carson's own high standards and expectations.

It is just as well that Thomas sometimes knows when it is prudent to pull his big head in, Carson muses.

Upon the family's first night back from the Moorland's holiday, Carson learned from His Lordship that Thomas had been sailing perilously close to the wind up at Brancaster regarding Lord Sinderby's secret scandal and the odious Stowell's shamefully public chastisement. Carson knows the latter man quite well enough, having crossed paths with Stowell, on and off, during the London seasons. And, Charles has long known to avoid any exchanges of information beyond the purely perfunctory and professional with Lord Sinderby's bitter and conniving Butler. Stowell has a chip on his shoulder the size of the entire working class of Britain, and he, most surely, cannot be trusted. In all honesty, Carson found that he could not entirely fault his Under-Butler for his ill-advised actions on the Moorland's trip, given that Barrow's somewhat extreme plotting was at the behest of Lady Mary and that Barrow was openly chastised at a dinner function by Lord Sinderby himself. Carson has always thought that a working man must be allowed to save some face for all of his hard work. Still, keeping Thomas Barrow silent, monstrously busy, and precariously balanced on the knife-edge of a full and open chastisement from Carson himself, has served them all the better in the end. His Lordship has had stern enough words with the Barrow already, and Carson and Lord Grantham have both agreed to let the younger man stew in his own juices for a while before allowing the matter silently float away in amongst the flurry of the Christmas season. Carson and Lord Grantham have always had an easy understanding of the best ways to manage the staff with the minimum of words and with the unnerving use of simmering, unspoken, or thinly veiled threats of expulsion without references. Perhaps we are more like the ladies of the house that we care to admit, Carson fleetingly considers, but then he dismisses such an utterly absurd notion almost as quickly. Still, all in all, Mrs Hughes' not entirely hidden plotting with the pre-Christmas roster appears to be working in everyone's favour for the moment.

In fact, despite His Lordship's apparent poor health and the looming sadness of the departures of Lady Rose and even Mr Aldridge, plus Mr Branson and Miss Sybbie moving off to the 'so-called' New World of opportunity, Carson has been enjoying the lead up to Christmas. There is an inherent joy in the air with so many little ones running about in the house again. It makes everything seem so much more like a cosy family home again, and that, of course, all serves to keep Carson internally all-a-flutter about his plans for making a home with Mrs Hughes in the not-too-distant future.

With…with my Elsie. Yes.

Indeed, having Thomas' more than adequate shoulder firmly to the grindstone has allowed Carson the mental time to consider how he will inform Mrs Hughes of the house purchase and his plans to marry her. Several times Carson has pulled himself up just short of practicing his proposal in front of a mirror, for that would only remind him too much of his pathetic years on the Halls as he tried to hone some dubious dramatic arts to please people. He is, after all, a man fast approaching 70 years of age. Oh, it would just be too pathetic! Still, Charles cannot stop himself from running the many possibilities silently through his mind as he goes about his daily duties.

It has not been easy for him to settle on an approach to take with Mrs Hughes. Charles wants to follow up his announcement about their shared property ownership fairly rapidly with his marriage proposal.

But…what would please her? Perhaps not too quickly. Not right afterwards, for that might railroad her into a decision, and I do not want to press her. Oh, would that she will come freely to me. But when, exactly, shall I speak?

Charles knows that as soon as he hears word from Murray and has all the papers signed and sealed on Brounker Road, he will be champing at the bit to let Mrs Hughes know the good news. Charles fears that he will act as he did when he first came up with the idea of investing in a property together. In that instance, he had blurted out the proposal as soon as the notion had struck him that day. And again, when he laid out all the sums and prospectuses in front of her that Sunday night when she very nearly broke his heart. But he had later come to his senses in the stables when the ringing slap to his pride returned to that constant ache of longing for a life to be spent by her side. No, he does not want to feel such a shock to his heart ever again. And yet, he fears that once he signs the settlement papers with Murray, he is just as likely to run out and vigorously clang the gong in the Great Hall to announce to the whole household his new property acquisition and his definite intentions to marry Mrs Hughes!

No! that just cannot happen!

To be sure, Charles is in quite a quandary about the route he will take to get them to where he wants them to go. His musings continue like a dizzying merry-go-round for much of his day.

And, after telling her of the purchase…well…she will be busy- we are all too busy with Christmas now upon us. What am I thinking?! And, of course, we are BOUND to be interrupted! So many people are flurrying about downstairs at the moment. But most importantly: what would truly please Mrs Hughes in the way of a proposal? Will she want a grand gesture? But, then…well… everything has been getting increasingly clicky in this cold weather. Can I reliably take one knee before her? And…and… might she not think I am just a ridiculous and Sad Old Fool if I did?— And most especially if I cannot gracefully arise before her again! How humiliating! And …and…maybe…well…should I kiss her? Would she even want that? Oh! Because…Oh, Lord above! Lord, you at least must know how much I do want to kiss her!

…But will it be too much? Too much change, and all too quickly, even for Mrs Hughes to manage? — Bah! …But… well…I suppose it is still a possibility. It might shock her terribly, for she is a lady of high standards, and we are merely friends. Very good friends, there is no doubt, but that is all we have ever admitted to one another…And…then…well… I don't know if I even remember how to attempt to kiss a lady!— You Sad Old Fool, Carson!—I barely even got that far with Alice, the dismal truth be told. Ruddy Griggs! And that was nearly five decades ago, anyway! Oh, Dear Lord! What a Sad Old Fool I am!

Carson shivers at the thought of his vast inexperience in all such matters.

…And…but…then… Dear God, what if she says 'No.'?!

Oh, God. No!

His heart momentarily shudders at the dark thought of it. But he just cannot dwell on that particular thought too much, preferring to cross that rickety bridge only if he should ever be forced to come upon it.

…Although…

Charles does consider Mrs Hughes' refusal is a rather slim possibility in the grand scheme of things, especially if it is the case that even His Lordship believes Carson is worthy enough of the lady in question. This thought lifts at least the corner of his mouth into a tiny smile. And then there are Charles' sweet memories of his most recent silent moments of grace together with Mrs Hughes, ever since the round table dinner.

Those croquants and Vin Santo! And then that Golden Hour in the library window alcove. She looked just like a painting at that moment— so very beautiful. And eminently kissable. Hmmm…Indeed…

He had felt so warm and cosy ensconced in their own private world. He knows, with astounding clarity, that they could recapture these feelings once they are together in their own home. Alone for once, and forever.

And, if I am not entirely mistaken, Elsie even looked like she wanted to be kissed that day! — almost as much as Charles had desired it at that moment, before that inevitable interruption. Ruddy Molesley!

About the sincerity of his convictions, Charles no longer has any doubt. However, he knows that he requires a moment in time and a form of proposal that might still encompass at least a modicum of the style he believes is needed to show Elsie that he is not just a played-out and sad old fool. Something to show that he is not a man who has become tired of life all too soon.

No, it needs to be done in a style worthy of The Abbey.

Carson starts musing on the various marriage proposals that have been proffered to the ladies of the Abbey. They are indeed slim pickings—taking what he knows of the Dowager Countess' merely pragmatic fiscal and familial arrangements with the 6th Earl. Similarly, for Lady Grantham with His Lordship.

Then, Lady Edith's luck with suitors is hardly an auspicious place to look for inspiration! And Lady Sybil…Well, really! Trying to elope with the chauffeur to Gretna Green only to be thwarted by somewhat steadier minds at the time and then marrying him somewhere in Bray anyway— quite literally 'Beyond The Pale'! That is hardly the style of proposal that will win over the fair Mrs Hughes' heart, now, is it?! So very indecorous! But then…there was Lady Rosamund and Mr Painswicke…

Despite the potential for scandal and a total lack of support from the Dowager Countess at the time, Mr Painswicke, by all accounts, put in a rather good showing, as a mere commoner, to be able to win Lady Rosamund's hand.** At least the 6th Earl at the time seemed to support the match. However, a likely motivator of that endorsement was the additional security that Marmaduke Painswicke could have afforded the floundering estate at that time, if push should have come to shove. Downton had very little in the way of a dowry to offer any young gentlemen during Lady Rosamund's opening seasons in London, and fortunately, Mr Painswicke was not in need of one. If nothing else, Mr Painswicke's knowledge of investment banking could have been quite a boon to the 6th Earl's plans. It had appeared at the time that His Lordship did at least had hoped that his daughter's match would be a happy one that would potentially prosper, thereby taking a modest amount of his financial burden for his daughter off the estate itself.

All that aside, Mr Painswicke apparently did pull out all of the stops to woo Lady Rosamund, according to various gushing reminiscences over tea and Victoria Sponge from the ladies of the house at times over the years. Mr Painswicke's not entirely approved of courtship did culminate in a memorable and enchanting proposal on the whispering gallery inside the dome of St Paul's Cathedral just as the choristers began the cycle of evensong prayers.

Indeed, it was remarkable that Mr Painswicke gained access to the stairs that would take them both up to the highest viewing platform of the dome of St Paul's. It must have cost him a pretty penny to bribe the porter! ^

That Mr Painswicke ever managed to convince a young aristocratic lady to traipse all the way up to the top of the Dome seemed equally unlikely. However, the urbane Lady Rosamund of today was actually a rather precocious, adventurous and headstrong country lass all those years ago, who was rather set upon upsetting her mother's apple cart with regards to whom she would finally set her heart upon after her third season in London. The 6th Earl's focus at that time necessarily fell more to his son, who was continuing to dally his way through the London seasons and not settle on many a suitable match that was directed his way, prior to the somewhat desperate arrangement that was finally made with the Levinsons. There was much friction between the 6th Earl and the former Lady Grantham at that time regarding the marriage matches for their two children. Carson knows that Lady Violet was more forgiving of her son than the 6th Earl was, and she was certainly more disdainful of almost any young lady who might be seeking to get their claws into the young Viscount. Conversely, Lady Violet was truly beginning to despair that her daughter would ever find a suitable husband by that third season. And quite contrarily, Rosamund then dug her heels in to be absolutely certain that her choice was not at all what her mother would have wanted!

But their's was a true love match, there is no doubt of it, and that is what matters. I do think can learn from Mr Painswicke's approach…

Yes, what was perhaps the most astounding aspect of Mr Painswicke's well-coordinated proposal 'event' on a summer's day in '86, was that the day was somehow clear enough of that foul London smog that can thwart many a fine day. According to Lady Rosamund's reminiscences, she was able to see the golden sunset glinting off the curve of the River Thames all the way from Blackfriar's Bridge around to Westminster and the Elizabeth Tower from the highest, seldom frequented, viewing platform of the Cathedral dome, hundreds of feet above the sprawling city streets.

Lady Rosamund regularly regaled her nieces with the story of her marriage proposal when they would beg for her to repeat it. Charles must admit, it was incredibly stylish, especially the part where Mr Painswicke held Lady Rosamund's hand when they had descended from the viewing platform to the Whispering Gallery level. There, he had insisted that she close her eyes while he ran to the opposite side of the inner dome and whispered his desperate question to her such that the sound carried all the way around to her. Then, he insisted that she not open her eyes or answer him until he got back to her side.

I do like that idea, Charles muses. It gave her time to consider and not be unduly pressed…Perhaps, more importantly, it gave Mr Painswicke time to steel his heart a little against the possibility of brutal rejection despite all of his careful planning for this most important of questions in a man's life. It is the right thing to do— I would never press Mrs Hughes.

And after such a romantic gesture as Mr Painswicke's, what lady could possibly reject such a suitor? Of course, Lady Rosamund accepted him. She apparently even whispered her answer back into his ear without ever opening her eyes.

Such trust—oh, to be worthy of it! Is it any wonder that Lady Rosamund still favours living in the big city after all of these years with such fond memories attached to her life there with a man that, even the Dowager Countess could finally and begrudgingly admit, was a fine love match for her daughter.

… But that all ended far too soon for poor Lady Rosamund…Good Lord! Charles thinks with a shock, do all men who offer up their hearts within this Abbey to their one true love risk meeting their maker all too soon? Oh, stop it, you silly old sod, before it IS all too late for you!

Still, Charles admires the grandness of that proposal. He wishes were young enough and well off enough to enact something of this style for Elsie.

Breathtaking. That's how Lady Rosamund once described her proposal to her nieces. heavenly music, stunning sites and a dedicated, energetic and handsome young man professing his eternal love from the loftiest of all heights. Fearless honesty, showmanship, and style. Yes— it had it all.

…Well… Elsie and I did have our own small moment in the Golden Hour in the Library, with the silent snow drifting all about us… Still… I don't think I can manage the youthful exuberance of the proposal Mr Painswicke offered on the Whispering Gallery. Anyway, I cannot get Mrs Hughes to London with me before Christmas. And it's far too cold at this time of year! We'd both likely expire before we got to the top! Could we climb to the top of the Abbey instead? Urgh! We live every day in the attics in our little boxes – she will probably just think someone has taken ill and needs checking on. Useless, Charles Carson! I need another venue…and what time could I secrete us both away from these bustling masses?

… But…well…then… there IS Lady Mary. Now, there's a thought! Now, Mister Matthew- despite everything, he was another commoner who somehow made good in this household on the 'romantic proposals' front! That proposal had style enough to it…and I can likely forego the taking of the knee. I think Mrs Hughes will understand… But Christmas time…and the pristine silence of the snow—like our Golden Hour in the library…Yes!— that I could at least manage with some style!

Carson checks the time on his pocket watch and then places the precious heirloom back in his waistcoat pocket. With that sure movement, he settles upon the most reliable time of the Christmas season to offer up himself and all of his worldly goods for Mrs Hughes' approval.

And if it means that Little Miss Mary can sing me in my cue, then so much the better!

A small smile slowly rises over Charles' face as he spins one of the Feversham Candelabras about under the light of his pantry. He checks the final high-polish as he hums a quiet little ditty to himself about a certain fair maiden with her smoothing iron. Then he locks these other silver heirlooms away for a few more nights until they are needed for the Family's Christmas Dinner.

With a plan now in place, Charles waltzes out of his pantry towards the kitchen to see how Mrs Patmore is plugging along for tonight's dinner. He halts slightly in his progress only to smile to himself once more, for he realises that, in this particular moment, he really is feeling rather youthful and confident about all of life.

oOOo

Author Notes:

*As expounded upon in my lengthy author notes for Chapter 41, "The Darkest Hour" from my Chelsie honeymoon fiction called "The Acquisition of Memories", in my headcanon, I maintain that it is ridiculous to think that Carson would not have known about Anna's attack and that Mrs Hughes would not have consulted with him about it straight away and well before Vyner and Co. throwing their weight around. Carson was so oblivious to all of that, and it was unrealistic— he is far too observant not to have noticed something afoot— he caught Elsie out with helping Ethel fairly quickly all those years before. Anyhow, I have covered a bit more about what and how Mrs Hughes kept the facts of that matter secret from Charles until he overheard Mrs Hughes taking on Green in the boot room. See my fiction The Acquisition of Memories Chapter 41: The Darkest Hour to find more details about how I rage and rant against this particular JF disaster and how Carson and Hughes traversed that particular dilemma…amongst other more personal matters.

** In my headcanon, I have Lady Rosamund born in 1868 and presented at court and attending her first London season at age 16 in 1884. Her third season would be 1886 and I plan to have her married to Marmaduke by 86/87, a few years before Robert gets set up by his father to marry Cora in 1889/90. Rosamund and Marmaduke cannot have children and so Rosamund is very close to her nieces, especially after Marmaduke dies suddenly in 1900 (roughly). Lady Rosamund is set to feature a lot more in my latest fiction: 'Half the Story Hidden' and so I just wanted to touch on some more of her backstory here.

^ In 1886, I am imagining that members of the public would not have had regular, tourist-like access to the viewing platforms of St Paul's Cathedral Dome the way that we do now. I could not find information on when the climb became a regular attraction. However, I think it is feasible that a man with enough money to pay a few key people at the Cathedral would be able to wrangle a private access trip to the top viewing platform and the whispering gallery in the late afternoon 'Golden Hour' sunset, just as Evensong is beginning.

Regards,
BTF