The Acquisition of Memories. Chapter 30- Delicate Negotiations (Part 1)
"You know, Mrs Carson, we really are going to have to retire soon, for I am afraid that my evening livery will not withstand very many more months in good condition now that you have your hands on me every night!"
"Now that sounds like a challenge right there, Mr Carson!"
Charles' eyes have darkened with a hunter's intensity as he visualises ravishing his wife again- bathing every inch of her beautiful body with his loving kisses. Dangerously low, he asks her, "And if it is,…Mrs Carson?"
"Well then, Charles…" She says pointedly as she drapes the rest of his tail-suit items neatly across the plush foot-board settee at the end of their bed, ready to be collected by the valet service later, then she holds his gaze unflinchingly, "I would suggest, Sir, that you had best be about it…"
Elsie hears a low rumbling growl and perceives a lightning-quick flash of movement. In the shocked and wide-eyed second that exists between two heartbeats, the sight of a rumpled, white-clad Mr Carson suspended momentarily in mid-air as he sails across their crumpled king-sized bed to capture her is a most decidedly not something that Elsie ever thought would grace her vision in this lifetime.
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Charles rests his chin heavily on Elsie's pulsating belly. The aftershocks of her exhilaration still shudder through her internal muscles, and she twists her hips slightly to shy away from further contact from him at her most sensitive core. Every nerve ending feels spliced and incapable of telegraphing any sort of cogent messages in an orderly fashion to her brain. Charles' jubilant eyes gaze in wide-eyed wonder across the glorious landscape of his wife's body stretched out before him- all quaking dips and shimmering rises- eyes closed and chin still jutting skywards from the peak of her ecstasy- hair cascading over the pillow and the powdery avalanche of her soft bathrobe falling in a pure white drift around the entire relief of her intense pleasure.
Charles reaches for her hand and unfurls the tie of the robe she had twisted her hand into during her fervour. He releases the cloth from the vice-like grip of her fingers and replaces it with the gentle intertwining of his own tingling fingers, drawing her safely back to earth with him.
"My beautiful Elsie. What an absolute vision you are," he murmurs softly to her.
He makes his slow journey back up her body, glancing soft kisses over her skin along the way, resting briefly with his head in the valley of her breasts as he listens to her breathing and the drubbing of her heart starting to slow- moving next to brush his smoothly shaven cheek over both crested nipples and then skirting his tongue across her smooth rounded shoulder- pierced with hot sweat. Then he moves around the edge of her jawline and across her cheekbones, nuzzling her with the soft tip of his nose before descending on her welcoming mouth with his own swollen and love-dewed lips.
When they finally draw back from their languid expression of loving gratitude to one another, Elsie manages to grasp onto and direct the voice that has been echoing through her mind since Charles first began his lustful exploration of her body with his tongue.
"Don't ever stop …please don't ever stop doing that for me, Charles. Don't ever stop." She breathes out heavily. "My God, Charles, you have no idea. Please don't ever stop loving me that way."
"Not a chance my love. I adore you." He rumbles out low and sweet across her cheek as he looks deep into her love-glazed eyes. "And I have far more idea about it than you credit me with. Hmmm..." he sighs out happily. "Oh, My Elsie, I absolutely adore loving you that way, a chagair- I don't ever want to stop seeing you, and hearing you, feeling you…. and tasting you this way, Elsie-love." Then he smiles at her with such lustful glee at this last thought that he feels his face might actually crack. She tastes of utter bliss.
"Dear God, I have been so wanton with you this morning, Charles! It still shocks me some."
He speaks softly to her. "I don't think I am keen on that word, Elsie. It suggests we have done something lewd and slovenly -and yet we haven't… and it wasn't – it was loving and giving and beautiful- so very, very beautiful, Elsie-love. You know it was. And you could never be wanton to me, pretty Elspeth, not ever- it is not who you are at all- it has never been, nor will it ever be – You are a true lady and you know it."
"Oh, Charles, you are just soh wonderful to me, a chagair."
"I could say the same about you, my love. My precious wife." And he dusts more kisses across her face. "So very passionate and loving, my pretty Elspeth."
"Hmm," she sighs in complete contentment, now that her body has re-centred and is wiring itself back into some semblance of equilibrium and normalcy. "How did we ever live without this pleasure for so long, Charles?"
"I guess we never really knew what we were missing, did we?"
"Well, that's the truth. But I believe we may have just proven that it was all well worth the wait."
Charles laughs aloud. "Well, that is the truth!" And he kisses he slowly once more. "Hmmm…But, this life is rather wonderful don't you think, Elsie?"
"Haaah…" She breathes out long in a high and relaxed tone, "Don't I know it?!"
There is a light tap on their room door.
"Ooh!" Elsie ruffles his hair vigorously "And breakfast in bed too! What more could a girl want, hmm? Quickly Charles, straighten yourself up and buttle yourself over there for it." She grins at him impishly.
"Grmph!" He grumbles at her as he makes to move. "…. Just a moment!" Charles bellows out towards the door as he looks at Elsie with some consternation- pulling her robe shut for her and tying it abruptly and just a little too securely at her front as she raises herself up on her pillows.
As Charles walks in a stately manner towards the door, briskly straightening his own bathrobe on the way and trying to slick his unruly hair back a little whilst muttering beneath his breath, he bends to pick up a pillow Elsie had tossed aside as he had made love to her. Turning back to see her nestled queen-like against the headboard, with her hands clasped demurely in her lap- he lobs the fluffy cloud towards her head and states self-righteous pomposity "Milady, I will have you know that I have never buttled anywhere in my entire life!"
"Oooph!" Elsie is still giggling like a silly schoolgirl with the pillow now secured across her lap as she watches Charles incline his body to open the door with his usual elegant and precise movements, one hand resting at his lower back. She only just manages to hold in her snickering laughter as she silently prays that Charles' bathrobe will not fall open in an undignified manner as the maid delivers their breakfast trolley into the room.
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Once Charles has tipped the maid from their stock of small change on the valet sideboard and sent her on her way with all of their evening wear that requires cleaning and pressing, he then sets about making good on his promise to be Elsie's personal room butler this breakfast time. He sets the fold out tray for her and pours the tea.
"Come on, Charles, that's enough of all that." And she pats the bed next to her. "Pour your own tea and come and share this with me, Love. I much prefer having you near me, to having you waiting on me hand and foot."
"I shall gladly, oblige, Milady."
"Here, have some toast and bacon. I think my lovely Yorkshireman more than deserves his full English breakfast today. Do you want the black pudding too?"
"Just a little. Is the tea meeting with your approval today, Milady?"
"Och, stop it with the Milady palaver Charles, I don't want to feel too much like I am overhearing you in the Great Hall at work. The tea is lovely, and it is time for you to start your holiday properly and eat your ruddy pudding."
He cannot help himself, giving her a silly smile before he finally lets go of his ingrained habit "As you wish Milady."
"Honestly!" She huffs out at him. "When did you last take a take some real time off, anyway Charles?"
"I can't rightly remember. When was the last time all the family was away somewhere I was not needed?"
"It's been a while, I know that much."
"Must have been their summer break at Duneagle- 1919 their first trip back there after the war I think."
"Really- seven years ago! That long?!"
"Well, it was just one thing after another after that, really wasn't it? The next year we lost dear Lady Sybil. Then after that Lady Edith's failed wedding, and then the year that Lord Flintshire had to give it all up and head to India the year Lady Mary was due with Master George and we just had too much to straighten out at the Abbey… and then everything that has happened since Master Crawley's death and with the Bates's and the like. So, that really was the last time I had more than a few days off at a time."
"But you didn't even go anywhere from memory. I had asked you before I left to pay an extra visit my sister and her husband in Lytham St Ann's that year."
"That's right."
"You really don't ever stop do you, Charles? Even I normally get a little down time during the London season- to go visiting and such. What did you do while I was away?"
"Well, I don't have anyone to go visiting with, Elsie. I probably just caught up on some correspondence with a few other butlers I know and mainly only run into in London during the season. I don't see them otherwise. Talked shop mainly- wines to recommend and such like. I just spent it reading mostly, and missing you quite terribly, as it was. Actually- I went out to the lake to try my hand at fishing again- although I think it was more of an excuse to be away from Mrs Patmore coming on all blood and thunder about the deep cleaning of the range or some such thing."
Elsie chuckles at this- well knowing how easily Beryl can start spitting feathers over the inevitable, tedious and quite unavoidable aspects of her work.
"I have never known you to fish Charles."
"Well, I think on that particular occasion it may have been better described as a worm drowning incident than a fishing expedition, Elsie!" this makes them both laugh. "But I was not really too focussed on achieving success, truth be told. I think that I mainly used it as my excuse to laze by the lake and get wrapped up in reading my book at the time- trying not to think on how much I was missing you. But you had given me the book- for my 63rd birthday- Thomson's Seasons suite, remember?"
"MmmHmm."
"Something to remind me of the good in the world after the war, you said to me at the time. And so, I failed miserably on that front too, for I ended up just missing you all more... God, how did I get so old, Elsie? I should have been planning for my retirement much better all the way back then."
"Don't say 63 is old Charles! I have only just edged past that recently myself! And, given the morning I have just had, I do not intend to think on that age as either late middle-age nor old anymore, thank you very much."
"Well how would you classify it, Elsie, if not old or late middle-age? - And what on earth does late middle-age mean anyway?! Surely that would be forty-five or fifty wouldn't it—unless you plan on living to about one hundred and thirty, Mrs Carson!"
"Ha! you have a point there, I guess. Silly way to put it really, isn't it? Well, anyway, maybe I have changed my tune now, and I choose to live without too much of a sense of my own age anymore. Makes more sense really."
"And when did this particular stance occur to you then?"
"Oh… I don't know… maybe since a certain romantic butler bumbled his way through proposing marriage to me… and I accepted…and then I fumbled my way through some silliness and fears- with much help from you- and well…here we are! And now I have a sense that maybe anything really is possible, a chagair, even at my age- and so maybe my age just doesn't really matter right now- and neither does yours."
"That is a nice thought. Although, I am not sure the reality will back us up, unfortunately."
"From the man whose current grand plan is to make passionate love to me all day long!"
"Well… yes… that is certainly the dream, Elsie!" he waggles his eyebrows at her suggestively. "But sadly, I think we can both tell that I have never really had a hope of keeping up with you on that or any other front really- as much as I desperately want to… well… not unless…" And he leans over to whisper in her ear, for no other reason than it allows him to nibble at her delightfully soft earlobe. "Unless you allow me to repeat what I just did for you...and as often as you will let me, Mrs Carson."
Elsie shivers in delight. And whispers back to him, purely because it is such a titillating way to converse that she would never have given much credit to, plus, what she has to say next is actually a little delicate. "Well… Mr Carson. I think I might find that a rather lovely and… soothing way to approach this day, thank you very much … And well, truth be told," and she dips her voice even lower, "well, I have to tell you something Charles … you see, I am just a tad sore from our more, shall we say, vigorous activities last night. I hope you don't mind."
Charles pulls back from her to look her in the face, worry etched across his brow.
"Did I hurt you Elsie-love?"
"No Charles! Of course you didn't – you would have known it if you had. No…," and she strokes the side of his face to reassure him.
"I feel just awful Elsie. I had no idea that this would happen."
"Charles, really, you didn't hurt me. It's just that…I guess I am just a little strained and sore at the moment, that's all."
"But Els, I have hurt you! How can that be when… well, everything seemed so perfect when we were together like that?" He is starting to look frantic and is really getting quite distressed at the thought that he misread Elsie's cries as ones of pleasure when in fact she was really in pain.
"Charles please, Love, don't think that! It was wonderful for me – it absolutely was. Think back on it, and you know will that to be the absolute truth."
"But how could this happen, Els. I don't want this to happen to you!"
"Oh, my darling, you must relax- I am fine, really I am…and well... it is to be somewhat expected, Charles."
"Is it?"
"Just... let me put it to you this way Charles…you see, you may well think I am just like a painting."
"A Gainsborough to be exact, Els."
"Well thank you, I am flattered. And well, … how can I put this delicately?"
"I'm truly worried now, Els."
"Don't be Charles… there is no need. In fact, you might sooner take it as a compliment. You see…Let me just put it this way to you- Well, …I may not be able to claim equally that you are like a painting… or that you fit exactly into Da Vinci's complete vision of man in the golden ratio, for example… but... I do find, my man, that most of you is actually quite divinely in proportion with the rest of you, Charles… and you are, shall we say, a man of quite some stature." And she raises a knowing eyebrow at him and wills him to understand her.
Charles looks at her intently, and she sees the cogs slowly turning over her meaning in his mind before he finally clicks the obvious compliment into place.
"Oh…. o-OH!" And then he does look rather pleased with himself as it fully dawns on him.
"Yes. You see?"
"Umm yes…. well...I guess I had no idea, Els … I've never thought to compare such a thing anywhere, you see."
"No, me either… but, Charles, I had heard that it can take a little while for most women to 'acclimatise' to it all, so rest assured that there is not a thing you could possibly have done to alter this. In fact, I rather think your precise and devoted methods have made this all quite a bit easier for both of us anyway. So now you are free to look completely as pleased as punch again. I do much prefer that, did you know?"
"So, will you be all right?"
"Of course, I will be, Charles. It will all settle down with a little rest… and as I said… we have quickly learned some more… soothing ways to love one another, so your grand plans for today are not entirely lost…Although, … I am with you in thinking that your itinerary as stated in the bathroom may be somewhat unrealistic! For as much as I don't want to think about late middle age… we cannot quite claim the same level of energy as newlyweds of the standard age range might."
"More's the pity, Els. Hmm… but I think we are both creative enough to work around these little issues- I do want what I whispered to you just before… if you will let me. I could ask for nothing sweeter today, my love- you do know that don't you, Elsie?"
"Of course, I know Charles. I welcome it … and I don't mind at all being equally as creative for you again. Hmm?"
Charles lets a shiver of anticipation roll down from his shoulders over his whole body and just grins like the lucky fool that he is once more.
"Well, it seems I am still the absolutely happiest and luckiest of men!"
"That's right. And I am the luckiest lass. Now, eat your breakfast- it's going cold."
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Having managed to broach this sensitive topic and traverse its particular problems without unsettling Charles too much, Elsie keeps serving bits and pieces of their breakfast food onto Charles plate as she picks up the thread of his previous revelations.
"So tell me more, Charles, I didn't know that you liked angling."
"But, surely you have met Trevor the Trout in my pantry!"
"I thought that was given to you! Or he was just left over from the previous Butler."
"No, no Trevor is my own proud quarry."
"And ugly thing he is too!"
"I will thank you not to speak so harshly of Trevor. He has done nothing to you!"
"Well, he did nought to you either, Charles- and yet you went and had him stuffed and stuck onto a board- the poor wee thing!"
"Ha! Well, true enough. But, he was the first fish I ever caught on a dry fly- so many years ago that was, too- while I was still a footman. I can't believe I've never told you that."
"I don't believe you are particularly prone to boasting, Love. Besides, I guess I never asked you either. That seems silly in itself, does it not?"
"Stuff just becomes part of the wallpaper after a while I guess. You stop seeing it when it is just there every day."
"I do hope you aren't thinking of us at all when you speak in such a way, Charles!"
"Well, even if I ever did, Elsie-love, you can rest assured that I will not be making that particular mistake now, or in the future." And he leans to kiss her on the cheek as she finishes her mouthful of toast.
"No, I don't suppose that you will. But why have you not fished more over the years then, Charles? Surely you could have on your half- days off a little more."
"Well, I guess I have always preferred fly-fishing Els. It's much more of a challenge, you see. A real sport. And really, to get to the best places on the Estate at the right times of the year or time of the day for success- well, it just takes much longer than my half days allow for. I don't like to be doing these types of things in a rush."
"No. Indeed, rushing into things appears to run against your very nature, Charles. We are certainly evidence of that particular proclivity!" She joshes with him. "Never a man to do things by halves, though, are you?
"But I have done it by halves, really, because I have always kept up making a collection of flies - my days as a valet have come in handy for that it seems- stitching up all those intricate little things."
"Really?" Elsie has never seen Charles work at this little hobby.
"I have- mainly using one lovely book from his Lordships library as a guide. It has some wonderful colour plates in it- very accurate etchings- and it was quite the definitive treatise on trout fishing up until just before the war. But now wet-fly fishing seems to be the more popular practice everywhere." He is speaking quite animatedly about it all now. "Far higher catch rates with wet-flies, you see. But dry–fly fishing is where the real challenge lies, Elsie. And there is quite an art to it you know? It takes some real skill to read when the fish are feeding nearer to the surface, which they don't do nearly so often as near the river bed." And then Charles slows his description right down, casting his hand out silently- fluidly weaving the picture for her in the air before them "…and then, Elsie, to cast so that the fly floats through the air and then gently alights just on top of the water near where the fish will strike- and not breaking the surface with it at all….Now that is a test of skill worth aiming for."
"It all sounds quite magical, Charles, and very precise."
"Oh, it is Elsie – it's like an elegant dinner service… or dancing well with you, my Love" … Elsie smiles back into his bright eyes. Ever consistent in his approach to everything in life is my Charles, she thinks. "But sometimes, Els, I think I actually just liked the quiet the most, and the full day out and away from the bustle of everyone in the house- even more than catching anything at times. And making the flies gives me that too, I guess. Something quiet and peaceful and by myself. Anyway, I guess I never told you about it all because I thought you would think it silly that I made the flies but never actually used them."
"Well, I don't think it silly- not for you, anyway, because I know well enough how you are. Hmm…and timing is everything, is it not, Love? So, perhaps you were just 'cellaring' them until you were ready. Like with us, really!" She adds happily. "Hmm... "and she kisses him lovingly on the cheek as he leans over to pour another tea for each of them, and steals a strawberry from Elsie's dish. "And I am sure you have perfected making them over the years, which is just like you too, really. I would wager you make very beautiful fishing flies, Charles."
"I think some of them are quite well done, that's true."
"But, if I had known, I most certainly would not have made fun of you … well …at least not for very long, anyway! Mores the like that I would have been pushing you out of the Abbey doors far more regularly, and helping you to combine your half days into whole days off, and making sure you went out to the streams to try out your lovely little fishing flies. You will have to show them to me when we get back, Love."
"You would have gone to all that trouble just to get me out of the Abbey for a while, Mrs Hughes?"
"Well, of course I would have! –If I saw that it was something that relaxed you and that you enjoyed so much."
"I suppose I do want to give them all a try one day."
"Well now! - Just think- now that you are going retire, you can try out all your little fishing lures. Wouldn't you like that?"
"Well, yes, I would. So, you wouldn't mind me being out all day and coming back all mucky and smelly."
"Of course, not… I mean, I wouldn't want you disappearing on me at length every single day, Charles, for I have waited for quite long enough to be with you, thank you very much! But I guess, it would offer us that space out of each other's hair that you were worried for. Plus, the cricket only runs for half the year- so you could take up something like this more often, to fill your days, wouldn't you agree?"
"Hmm, well the seasons are actually similar. But I could fish for a longer stretch of the year than the cricket runs for. And then there is always bait fishing in the lake at other times, I suppose, although that is not nearly so skillful. But I would like it. I would like to know that Trevor is not my lone great success in angling." And he smiles just like a happy little boy on a break from school with all of a summer's worth of adventures stretching out before him. "And besides. Maybe you could spend the day out with me, Els. We could picnic. And you could read, or practice your own hobbies. Do you think you might have any, Elsie- for I hate to think that you will only be working at managing events for the Ladies Auxiliary? What do you like doing outside of reading, when you relax."
"Well, I guess I have always enjoyed some needlepoint. I cannot claim to be as skilled as Miss Baxter, or even her Ladyship with embroidery, but I do well enough I suppose. Maybe I could work on a bigger project now. I have only ever done little things with the time I have had like the little cornflowers on my new nightgown I prettied up for this week away- Ha! Not that I have had more than ten minutes to wear that so far with you about, Mr Carson!"
He grins proudly at this. "And that is just as it should be, and I feel I am quite justified in arguing the ongoing case for it, Mrs Carson! ...So, what would you design to stitch do you think…"
"Och, I don't know- probably something for Anna and John's little one on the way first. Then, maybe I could try some flower motifs- perhaps work on a full counterpane for our bed."
"Well, just make sure it has some carnations on it then, Mrs Carson," Charles states happily as he dives into Elsie's neck and kisses into that special spot just below her ear.
"Urk! Stop it, Charles- your lips are still all greasy from the bacon! And she swats him away with her napkin before trying to mop up the mess from her neck "Anyway. Maybe I will come out picnicking with you sometimes- if you'll have me."
"Hmm, I might even consider teaching you to cast a fly, Elsie… but I would wager you would embarrass me by being an immediate natural at it and breaking any paltry catch record I have to date in no time flat."
"Oh, I don't know if it would be for me. I think I would sooner fossick along near the riverbank."
"Well, just so long as you don't startle the fish away."
"And just so long as you don't decorate our cottage with too many more 'Trevors,' Charles!"
"No, I think not-I'd much rather eat my quarry now I think."
"Well, I hope you don't expect me to be cleaning anything you happen to haul in, Charles- that is most definitely a task for the angler himself. Disgusting work it is. So, I am afraid it would adequately curb any desire I may have to catch fish of my own- I don't want to be stuck cleaning and gutting any fish! So, I do predict that your bag record shall remain the pride of our home."
"Well, maybe I could just try for one more catch for display, though Els, for I would love to land a grayling with a dry-fly one day too." And he looks dreamily into the middle distance of the room.
"Why is that Charles?"
"Well, they would make a lovely pair I think, Els- 'Trevor and his Lady of the Stream'- as the Graylings are known. They are a far prettier and more elegant fish than boring old Trevor the stout and ruddy Brown trout- that much is certain. There is a lovely colour plate in Roland's … that book- I was telling you of. I will show you when we return to the abbey. – and if ever I catch one I shall honour you with sole naming rights for her, Mrs Carson," and he smiles happily at the thought.
"Oh, dear! Why do I get the distinct sense that you may somehow be comparing us to a couple of dried out old kippers, Charles! I am not sure I like the notion. And why 'Trevor'- of all names?"
"Ha! Simple alliteration appealed to me in the first instant, I guess... But then I had been studying Burke's peerage fairly closely- even when I was the first footman- because I wanted to know where everything sits with regards to the Grantham's. And, Trevor was actually caught on one of my last days out fishing properly when I was still the Under-butler before I became Butler. So he is quite a prize in that respect too, I guess."
"Well then- indeed he is."
"Well, and Trevor is actually named for the Baronetcy of Trevor and the later attendant title of Viscount Hampden, which were both dissolved in 1824- and actually, for the baronetcy that was to be the second dissolution of the title. But then the Baronetcy has been granted a third time now to another family line since the 1860s - but that is definitely a whole other story in itself."
"So, which particular Baron is Trevor named for?" Not really at all surprised that Charles has a lengthy and intricate reasoning for his choice of name.
"Well, I found out that this second iteration of the title died out after the death of the 3rd Viscount- who was also the 6th Baron, who had no heir. But then, when I dug back a little further I found out that the 4th Baron and 1st Viscount- Robert Hampden–Trevor had actually preceded the 1st Earl of Grantham as Postmaster General for the United Kingdom in 1765.
"My gosh, Charles! How on earth do you remember all these names and dates? For the peerage does have a propensity to come up with far too many names and titles and yet you seem to know them all." Elsie exclaims in quite some wonder at the way he holds all of these details in his head.
"Part of the job, I guess. And they do all marry into the different estates and titles, so they collect a lot of names over time. But I do enjoy it, Els- it is like a big puzzle. Although I do generally have to research a little before most visitors arrive at the Abbey- I don't really recall all of them as well as this, but I suppose Trevor does hold a special place in my memories."
"Well, I am still suitably impressed Charles, really."
"Well anyway- there you have it- Trevor the Trout named for the 4th Baron who had a most tenuous link to the First Earl of Grantham as Postmaster General– and so my small link to becoming indentured for life with the later Earls of Grantham…- and …well… I guess Trevor is my little tribute to a past that can all too easily be forgotten, really, for the titles can be quite transient- as we both know, Els- Even His Lordship has always had that spectre of no living male heir hanging over his life's work and title."
"I see what you mean. So, Trevor the trout is a reminder of what you were trying to uphold with the Grantham's perhaps? Almost prophetic, he seems."
"Huph… I guess so. Although now we have young Master George to carry things forward at least."
"Indeed. But Good old Trevor, hmm? The namesake of a 4th Baron- and a great and noble fish in the history of the Carson lineage to be to be sure." And she grins at her husband's little quirks and interests. "Well, Charles, Baron Trevor the Brown Trout shall continue to have pride of place in our cottage too then - even if he is the ugliest member of the aristocracy that I have ever seen!"
"Thank you, my love."
"So, tell me, who did this 1st Viscount Hampden or Baron Trevor or whatever marry anyway? - For I would have to name your Lady of the Stream for her sake when you do catch her."
"Ah ha- well- you see that is where the plot thickens. He continues animatedly "For it turns out that Baron Trevor was to be posthumously exposed as being embroiled in a former secret marriage scandal!"
"Oh, Lord! - Elsie exclaims in mock horror "But why does that not truly surprise me?! Seriously, cannot any of the peerage live quiet and honest lives?"
"Hmm- apparently not. Anyway, he married Constantia de Huybert in the 1740s. But- In the 1880s, when I actually caught Trevor, it was revealed in the Pall Mall Gazette that he most likely had hushed up a prior clandestine Fleet Prison marriage. And all the paperwork had been destroyed, and the truth of the lady's identity was completely suppressed. And all of this only came to light when the lineage of Lord Randolph Churchill was being traced- all the way back to a very tenuous link to the title of Trevor via a first cousin of Baron Trevor's who was Lord Churchill's great-great-great-great grandmother – or some such thing. Anyway, if the Baron's first Fleet Prison marriage really did exist, the Baronetcy should have gone another way - to the Reverend Doctor John Trevor, according to claims by his descendants- So! There is the whole sorry and sordid tale as far as I know it!" And Charles smiles, completely enjoying this ridiculous exchange about the nomenclature of a dried fish with Elsie over their breakfast, for they have never been able to enjoy such totally frivolous nonsense before.
"Lord Above! Trevor! What a slippery old fish you are! So, who could this mythical Lady of the Stream be?"
"Ah, the trail has been well and truly hushed up within the highest heraldic offices in the land, I am afraid. So, we will probably never know. What do you imagine her name to be, though, Elsie?"
"Oh, I think in the interests of some historical accuracy, we would have to find out some of the Reverends children's names- for perhaps we could then guess at his own mother's name with that. Where would we find that sort of thing out?"
"Well, I guess the relevant parish register the Reverend Trevor was installed at would be the place to start – his children would surely be registered in the records there. Somewhere in Somerset rings a bell, if I recall the letter from his descendant's in the Gazette correctly. I may be able to find out who his patron was through his Lordship's library, though. That would be a start. But is it really worth all the effort, Elsie? Surely, you could just make something up?"
"No! You went to the effort to give Trevor the Trout a proper lineage. Ha!... I just had a thought, Charles! Perhaps you could write a book called 'Trout's Peerage' in your retirement!"
Charles glances bemusedly towards his wife. "You know, …I am not entirely sure of your likeness to a lump of melting jelly anymore, Elsie. For I rather think you are closer to being as nutty as one of Mrs Patmore Christmas fruit cakes!"
"Oh! Thank you very much- from the man who has kept a dead fish in his office for forty odd years! I think perhaps I should be the one contacting Bedlam Hospital for you! Anyway, I think Trevor the Trout's first true love deserves some respect after all these years, don't you?" Charles can only look at his wife somewhat agog. "Well…It could be fun, Charles," she says with a little wiggle of excitement running through her. "We could make it a reason to go on another little holiday somewhere down the track, don't you think? - For I have never been to Somerset- if that is where this trail leads us. Maybe you will finally catch your Lady of the Stream in a county other than Yorkshire- make it a bit of an angling trip for you too."
That Elsie would latch onto this small and somewhat flippant piece of his past and find enjoyment in it for them to share astounds Charles. He shakes his head at her incredulously but smiles at the thought of traipsing about the nation with her and trying to name a salmon he has yet to catch. Retirement certainly need not be such a dull prospect after all- not with Elsie by his side.
CECECECECE
On Fly- fishing- or "Where I drew my fish-spriation from for this chapter"
I personally subscribe to the worm drowning incident brand of fishing that Charles described, I am afraid. So, I went and found my information on Dry-fly fishing vs. wet-fly fishing vs. fresh bait fishing; plus details of freshwater fish species in the UK; and on and off season fishing times in the UK and Yorkshire from various specialist blogs and generalist wiki pages:
wiki/Fly_fishing
- the website for all anglers.
There were many others- but I didn't bookmark them.
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The book Charles would have used is The Fly Fisher's Etymology by Alfred Ronald's (1849).
wiki/The_Fly-fisher's_Entomology
It focused on dry-fly fishing, introduced new ideas about how trout see their food, where they feed and also had detailed instructions on how to mimic insects and make the dry-flies from things like rabbit fur and the like.
The next link has the frontis piece image from the book that I think has inspired Charles to want to catch a mate for dear old Trevor the Common Brown Trout.
Graylings really are called the Lady of the Stream by anglers and they are rather pretty.
wiki/The_Fly-fisher's_Entomology#/media/File:Fly-fishers_
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The 1910 book- Minor Tactics of the Chalk Stream by G.E.M. Skues wold have upset a dry-fly purist- which given time, and enough access, Charles may well have become. The book influenced the widespread uptake of wet-fly fishing in Northern England and Scotland as it does allow for greater catch rates. This is because river trout/salmon, and other fish that can be lured with artificial flies feed 90% of the time at lower depths and only 10% of the time near the surface. Charles, I think is one for the artistry of the dry-fly casting and the greater skill demanded of landing a dry-fly lure well.
wiki/Minor_Tactics_of_the_Chalk_Stream
It does look like a pretty cool sport and I think it suits Charles as I see him- precise and dedicated.
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The Grantham Timeline and other info that follows is based on Charles naming his stuffed Trout Trevor-
Here is how I have doctored the Life spans from the actual 1st and 2nd Barons of Grantham (Now called Earls of Grantham for my DA purposes) so that we can reasonably end up with Robert Crawley being the 7th Earl of Grantham from 1890- present in my fiction (1926)
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On the 4th Baron Trevor and his –contemporary in the real life - the 1st Baron Grantham- (the latter of whom I have renamed the Earl of Grantham for our DA purposes).
Keep following the links through the various first born sons of these men to see where I am coming from- if you want to! I gave up after a couple of generations with the Barons of Grantham and from 1777- came up with all the fictional Earls that would time-in somehow with the 6th Earl and Violet marrying and then the JF canon dates for Robert- the 7th Earl. It has been an interesting rabbit hole to have fallen down for a while!
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These are the first pages I went to when looking if the UK peerage had any mention of a 'Trevor' line for our wee trouty!
wiki/Robert_Hampden-Trevor,_1st_Viscount_Hampden
wiki/Thomas_Robinson,_1st_Baron_Grantham
The evidence that good ol' Baron Trevor (4th)- had a clandestine and subsequently hushed up 1st marriage to an unknown lady that will all lead Charles and Elsie to naming the future stuffed and pinned grayling a little more accurately described here:
site/fenwickoflambton/jane-hornby-barkley/trevor-family-mystery
It includes copies of the Pall Mall Gazette article Charles would have read and so based his naming of the trout on!
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Information on Clandestine Marriages Prior to the Marriage act of1753.
Robert Hampden-Trevor probably married his mysterious first wife before 1740 in the Fleet Prison area of London- where clergy had been carrying out quick, cheap marriages for various reasons and without the need for banns to be read- claiming immunity from church law as the prison was seen to exist outside of the jurisdiction of the church – like Gretna Green really.
wiki/Fleet_Marriage
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Rough timeline of births deaths and marriages of the 7 Earls of Grantham with other notes
1695- Thomas Robinson born (in Yorkshire) D. 1770 aged 74 years. M. 1737. First Son (Thomas) born when he was 43 years old. Became 1st Baron Grantham in 1761 when title was created for him. Held title for 9 years. And began the conversion of Downton Abbey to a stately home.
1738- Thomas Robinson, later 2nd Earl/Baron Grantham born. D. 1777 aged 39 years (from 1777- these are mostly my changed dates for the fictional Earls of Grantham from now on). Became 2nd Baron/Earl Grantham in 1770 when aged 32 years. Held title for 7 years M. 1757. First born son (Thomas – Yes! Very original!- born when the 2nd Earl was 20 years old. 2nd Earl Completes building of Downton Abbey as stately home in his lifetime.
1758- future 3rd Earl Grantham born. D. 1791 aged 33 years. Became 3rd Earl of Grantham in 1777 at age 19. Held title for 14 years. M. 1779. First Born son born when the 3rd Earl was 21 years old. Capitalized on increased farming production. Settled estate into a viable running agricultural concern.
1761- (real historical date) 1st Baron of Grantham- title was created for Thomas Robinson (first listing here) – and which I have now relabelled to the Earl of Grantham for DA Canon Purposes. The Ist Earl/Baron held title for 9 years.
1765- (real historical date) 1st Earl of Grantham/ Thomas Robinson (first listing above) succeeded the 4th Baron Trevor (AKA Robert Hampden-Trevor- AKA the 1st Viscount of Hampden) as the Post-Master General to the United Kingdom. And this all forms Charles' very tenuous link between Trevor the Trout, the Baron Trevor, and the Earls of Grantham- and all because of that scandalous piece in the Pall Mall Gazette in 1884- when Robert Crawley's father was still 6th Earl and Charles was about to become Butler at Downton (1885- when Charles is a mere 29 years old- he was fast-tracked into the role by the 6th Earl- and had been Butler for 5 years before Robert takes over in 1890 as 7th Earl. Charles (39) has already been Butler for 10 years before Elsie arrives in 1895- when Lady Mary is nearly 5 years old, Edith 3-4 years old, and Sybil still an infant).
1770- 2nd Earl Grantham took over from his father until 1777
1777- 3rd Earl took over until 1791.
1780- Future 4th Earl Grantham born. D. 1812 aged 32 years while fighting in Napoleonic- Iberian Peninsula Wars under Lt. Gen Arthur Wellesley- (who was later Duke Wellington). Became 4th Earl in 1791 at age 11. Held title for 21 years- his guardian/ trustee-come all around scurrilous uncle squandered a lot of money from the estate whilst the 4th Earl was still a minor. 4th Earl took back power in 1798 when he came of age. Held title in total of 21 years. M. 1800. First born son born when the 4th Earl was 22 years old.
1791- 4th Earl of Grantham took over until 1812 (7 years as a minor with a guardian)
1802- Future 5th Earl of Grantham born (Robert's Grandfather). D. 1855 aged 53 years. M. 1820. First-born Son born when 5th Earl was 19 years old. 5th Earl held Title for total of 43 years – 8 years as a minor with another useless family Guardian/trustee who continues to mismanage estate's agriculture at this time, and got caught up in the Hudson/Clearing House Railway debacle and lost out when the bubble burst in the late 1840s. Money still flowing in from interest in northern coal industry and benefits of free trade to the continent keeps Downton with its head just above water and such that they can still put on quite a good show for the right circles of people. 5th Earl not adept with Agricultural side of the business though.
1821- Future 6th Earl Grantham born. D. 1890 aged 69 (when Violet was 52 and Robert 24). M. 1856- to Violet. Became 6th Earl Grantham in 1855 at age 34 years. First born son (Robert) born when 6th Earl is nearly 45 and Violet is 28. 6th Earl tries to claw back the profitability of the land of the Estate and to work out the railway debacle. Brings Downton up to its glory days, but it all fails again when his interests in Cargo Fleet plummet due to an inability to provide coal to meet production targets. So, the Granthams are losing out on both ends of the production cycle and Robert is left having to marry into riches in order to save Downton. Robert does learn a bit about agriculture and people management/ diplomacy on the estate and beyond from his hard-working Father though. But, as we know- Robert also makes his share of poor business choices in the future and does not move the farming up to speed with the times quite quickly enough post WW1—but at least now we know now that fiscal mismanagement is in the training of the heirs for the Earldom of Grantham, and also possibly also in their genes!
1838- Future Dowager Countess Violet Crawley born. (I have made her 4 years older than DA Canon- so 89 in 1926 for my Chelsie wedding). M. 6th Earl in 1856 at just on 18 years of age, He was much older at 34 and married for love, not money, for Violet's family had little for her Dowry- but wanted to add the Grantham title to the family line. Violet was 28 before she had Robert in 1866. The Prince Kurragin indiscretion was in 1874 when Violet is about 36, 6th Earl 52, Robert 8 and Rosamund about 6- I figure the 6th Earl is busy working his tail off trying to save the estate. Violet was ill-prepared for marriage at such a young age with an older man anyway, and, having provided the required son an heir- I think she felt she was lacking attention and so she strayed when in St Petersburg.)
1856- Violet and 6th Earl of Grantham Marry
1856- Carson born onto the Estate to head Groom and his wife-
1862- Elsie Hughes Born- Argyll, Scotland
1862- Carson's mother dies (Charles aged 6)
1866- Robert Crawley, future 7th Earl of Grantham born. (Violet 28, 6th Earl 44-5)
1868- Rosamund Crawley (later Painswicke) born.
1868- Carson's father dies (Charles 12 years old) . Taken on and kept in quarters by 6th Earl as junior hall boy. Potential seen in Charles by 6th Earl's loyal Butler. Together these men start grooming Charles up through the ranks- sending him for further education at Ripon Grammar and later send him to the continent for wines training so that he is ready to take over from old Butler by age 29. Charles left briefly for the stage from maybe 18-20 years of age- (so 1874- 76 ish ?) then returns to a small demotion at Downton, but the old Butler and 6th Earl pick up on moving him through the ranks quickly again. (Many thanks must go once again to Edward Carson- for his twist on Charles Carson's early chronology and movement into the role of Butler at Downton. My version relies heavily on his concepts of Charles early life on the estate. Although, I keep Charles birthdate the same as DA Canon where EC plumps for CC being a bit younger. I have played with the Dowagers age instead- and probably guessed quite differently with the older age for the 6th Earl. Anyway- read Edward Carson's DA fiction- he is my absolute favourite author in this wee FF world. )
1874- Violet in St Petersburg messing up badly while Robert is no doubt at Eton by now (from age 6 or 8 until 18).
1884- The Gazette article and Charles last fishing trip prior to becoming Butler for the 6th Earl after old Butler kicks the bucket. Trevor the Trout is caught and undergoes intense taxidermy and board pinning procedures and is of course christened. Life gets rather too busy for Charles to go out dry-fly fishing anymore.
1884-1888- Robert leaves Eton and goes to Oxford reading Philosophy. For 3-4 years.
1890- 6th Earl dies at age 69. Having Spent 2 years intensively with Robert teaching him the ropes of running Downton (also utilised and previous college break times of Robert's for this). But 6th Earl still hands on an Estate in a perilous financial condition.
1890- Robert becomes 7th Earl of Grantham at age 24 and marries Cora same year to save the estate. Charles Carson is 34 years old and 5 years in the top job. Robert proves reasonable at running it all successfully for most of the girls' childhoods through agriculture and business interests of the estate. Glory days of sparkling dinner parties abound. Carson is in his element and all is well with eh world at Downton Abbey. BUT! - As we know – it all goes horribly pear-shaped again for an Earl of Grantham post the Titanic sinking!
1891- Lady Mary born – not a boy – what an eternal disappointment she will always feel herself to be!
1892- a sickly baby- Lady Edith is born. The toddling Lady Mary seriously spits her dummy and never really recovers it to realise that it wasn't really Edith's fault that Mary is not actually the centre of the known universe, nor is Edith to blame for the fact that Lady Mary could never be the boy heir that was required to secure the estate's future – that is my theory of the haughty little minx's issues, anyway!
1895-6- Lady Sybil- veritable saint upon this earth is born!
1895- Elsie arrives at Downton as head housemaid (Charles 39 & Elsie 33- and feeling the boat to having a husband and family has sailed for her- the work and the money are better than farming) The legend of Chelsie Begins!
1896- Elsie becomes Head Housekeeper- groomed by the previous housekeeper who is retiring rather than dropping of the twig whilst still in harness like the old butler did!
So, that will do messy - sequence of dates- I think works out fairly well (I had to write in and repeat bits of it to make it all make sense to me. I hope it is reasonably readable for others) - – Anyway- it cannot be much worse than the choppy timelines in the real DA canon! And really, all of this was so that I could have a reason for the Trout to be named Trevor- which I believe may have been merely a bit of Jim Carter silliness on set in the first place!
So, it is probably official- I am as nutty as one of Mrs Patmore's Christmas fruit cakes! Anyway- it was time to clear up some canon dates in my DA canon re-jigged!
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Final note on Baron Trevor the Trout and his somewhat ignoble Lady Grayling-
As I don't think I will be writing the potential Somerset jaunt for Charles and Elsie in their retirement I will explain Elsie's take on naming the Grayling (Which I feel would actually be most appropriately caught somewhere in Argyll— if ever they should take a short trip to Scotland as well!)-
-The 1st progeny of the Reverend Doctor John Trevor- (incumbent of Otterhampton parish church when his children were born) were twin girls named Elizabeth and Francis. I believe Elsie would have chosen Frances as the supposed name of the 1st Baron of Trevor's first wife via the hushed-up Fleet Prison marriage that potentially led to the birth of the Rev. Dr. Blah blah etc.– SO! - in my world- Charles' future stuffed and dried Kipper twin-set display will ever after be known as "Trevor and Frances"- or AKA "Baron Trevor d'Brown-Trout and Lady Frances Grayling of the Stream". Ta-Da!
**Reviews are always welcomed with glee. :)
Regards,
BorneToFlow. :)