Downton Abbey:
Guy(s) Night
by Mirwalker
Chapter Twelve: Preparations
Saturday, 9 November 1912
Thomas had used the morning's silver-polishing session to consider possibilities and plans for longer term living options for his guest. In between interruptions to exchange pleasantries with other staff who passed through the servants' hall, he'd tried to think through all the what's and how's of getting Ian into a more stable and secure position, until they could figure out permanent prospects. And, for most of the key elements, he realized he just needed the opportunity to put his plan into action.
He didn't have that many non-work pieces of clothing himself—none of the staff did, as they rarely dressed for themselves; and it wasn't uncommon for a servant to be able to fit all their personal belongings into a single case. And there wasn't another man in or related to the house into whose spare set Ian would comfortably fit, if they had it. So, they'd pinned up what he was wearing well enough to cover him completely and to look decent from a distance; but any passing inspection would give away the numerous tucks and rolls that kept him from tripping over its excess lengths in every direction. They'd soon have to acquire at least one full outfit from somewhere else.
Thankfully, temporary housing was a little easier, as Thomas had identified a safe, nearby and inconspicuous getaway spot within his first few months of arriving at Downton. He hadn't imagined he'd be hiding a person there, to be sure; but its plain-sight privacy would keep this secret just as well as any other contraband he might choose to place or partake of there. With Ian now at least minimally presentable in public, he intended to dispatch him there while everyone was away to church in the morning. He just needed to "borrow" the means of entry from the estate key locker.
As he polished, he also concluded that supplies for that hiding place would be the trickiest step. Beyond getting the food and getting it there on some ongoing basis, Ian would also need a range of other set-up supplies to make anything with the groceries, and to make it homely for any period of time: bedding, toiletries, firewood and even water. Thomas could "lend" some materials from the big house, and arrange for edibles from the village; but it was likely that Ian would have to have some interactions with others to collect the consumable goods. And his unknown face and memorable hair and injuries would make that a risk for recognition or rumors, neither helpful if he wished to remain anonymous.
To some degree, Thomas had anticipated all these issues in the spur of the moment decision to offer Ian shelter that first night. In walking him across the threshold, Thomas had committed his considerable skills to finding a place, some covering and some food for the rain-soaked visitor. He hadn't expected it to be for multiple days already, much less an unknown number of days to come; but he'd known when he did it, that he could provide everything needed for at least a short while.
But as he worked his cloth into the handle joint he knew the butler loved to inspect most closely, Thomas realized that he had utterly failed to anticipate one consequence of that invitation, and now, of moving Ian out: He didn't want Ian to go.
That morning, he'd woken a few minutes before his alarm, to find Ian again nestled alongside him, with head on and good arm draped across his chest. For the fourth night, he had shared his bed with the unexpected roommate; and given Ian's improving health, it had been the second night either could have slept in the easy chair instead. But without any discussion or apparent hesitation, they'd just climbed in together and covered up, as if they'd been doing so for years.
And rather than being crowded or uncomfortable in the bed just barely big enough for the tall footman alone, Thomas had slept soundly through the night, from both regular exhaustion and newfound comfort. He couldn't see Ian in the dark, but hoped the steady breathing and relaxed pose suggested the bedfellow was at least comfortable, if not content, as well. And for all that, he had smiled and sighed and relished the moments until the alarm rang.
So for exactly those reasons, he didn't want to imagine Ian tucked away somewhere other than his room, however safer and smarter that might be for them both. No amount of polish could help him think past that inevitable pitfall in his plan; he would be here, and Ian would not. He could, and would have to, visit regularly to check on his hideaway; but those moments would be few and brief. They'd no longer be a staircase away all day, or together all night.
As he'd readied himself for the day, he'd kept glancing at the increasingly familiar form in his bed, and wishing he didn't need to leave him there alone today, much less for any greater or longer separation. Before waking him to take his leave, Thomas had sat on the side of the bed and taken in the sleeping face, a little frightened by the profound impact the arrival had had on him, but appreciating it all the same.
Still pondering these questions scant hours later and several floors down, he realized he'd quickly finished his assigned service wear; and so loaded this gleaming batch onto a tray, and headed to swap it for another. Coming down the hallway, he was nodded into the butler's study and to its the silver cabinet, as his supervisor and the housekeeper huddled over several sheets of paper.
He turned in place, waiting to be given his next tray, but Carson had other plans. Without even looking up, he instructed, "Thank you, Thomas. While I pull another tray for you, please let the chauffeur know to bring the car around. Lady Edith will be going into the village to see Mrs Crawley."
"Yes, Mister Carson." He began to turn away, before turning back to seize this unexpected opportunity. "Mr Carson, I wonder whether I might accompany her Ladyship?"
"Oh?" the butler was surprised by the audacity of even this staffer member imagining he could waltz off for the morning, particularly given the past several days. As both Thomas and Mrs Hughes seemed to waiting for his response, he'd obviously heard correctly, and so tried not laugh aloud as he explained, "While appreciating you've been unwell, Thomas, that also means you have not been working, and others," he nodded in the direction of the passing-by William, "have had to cover for you. So you will understand how I am… hard-pressed to see how any additional time away is warranted…"
"That's very true," Thomas agreed sincerely. "And I'll admit my own interest is dropping off some post written while I was recuperating, and getting some fresh air to help my recovery. But, I also know that her Ladyship is going to invite the Crawleys for dinner tonight, or sometime tomorrow. And, I'd be happy to pick up anything Mrs Patmore might need for those extra guests. I've had more experience with the provisioners than William has. And… I thought I might use the chance to get him a little something as a thanks for covering for me. With my own money, course."
Thomas could tell from their wide-eyed and open mouthed silence, that his unsolicited thoughtfulness had indeed caught the two heads of staff entirely unprepared. Pushing for decision over deliberation, he nodded toward the list that he knew Mrs Hughes had been showing him.
Carson seemed to be searching for some counter-argument, but found none as he glanced back and forth between his colleague and subordinate. He even seemed disappointed at having to agree. "Very well; but… you will need to ensure that, if her Ladyship is any way delayed, the car remains available for her use, and you will arrange other transport for yourself and the grocer's goods. I expect you here, clean and ready for prompt and proper luncheon service. Is that understood?"
"Yes, of course, Mr Carson," Thomas grinned, stepping forward to take the grudgingly proffered shopping list. "I very much appreciate it, and won't let you down. Mrs Hughes," he nodded and was gone.
"Well I never," Mrs Hughes blinked after him, wondering aloud for the both of them, "Perhaps that fever burned off some bile…"
Thomas waited patiently as the chauffeur opened the door for Lady Edith to exit and head into Crawley House.
She still seemed to be deep in thought, as she had through the entire ride to the village. With only a nod to them, she headed mechanically up the path, before turning around suddenly, "Thomas?"
"Yes, milady?" he forced a smile, having almost been able to set about his many errands this cold and tightly scheduled morning.
"Thank you, Taylor," she dismissed the driver until she was ready to travel again. Turning back to the footman, she glanced about for other possible observers, and asked, "I understand you've a shopping list for Mrs Patmore?"
"Yes, milady."
"And I expect Carson wants you back in time for luncheon today, however long my visit goes?"
"Yes, milady."
"Excellent," she smiled immediately, before quickly and confidently laying out part of what she'd been formulating in the back seat. "I am hoping that Mrs Crawley and I will be taking a short ride before I return; and I would appreciate your attendance on, and your sworn silence about, that trip. In exchange, I promise to have you, and any deliveries for which you are responsible, back to the house via the car well in time for service. Am I able to count on you in this?"
She certainly had his attention, as he had clearly underestimated her cleverness. Impressive. "I would be happy to help, of course, your Ladyship; but might I know what exactly it is you'll need me for?"
She glanced around again, and took a breath as if to convince herself, "I hope to make a quick stop just north of the village, to check something. Having another man along will reassure anyone who happens to find out, that we were all perfectly safe on that journey."
"You want to go to…." he realized.
"To where the police found the jacket after the storm, yes," she admitted openly and coldly. "I am asking you to do no more than ride along and hold your tongue afterward; in fact, it will require nothing but complete inaction on your part. Without your presence, I worry that we ladies may dawdle too long…"
Leaving me to make the long, cold run back to the house in time to clean up for luncheon, he understood. This middle daughter was sharper than anyone downstairs had given her credit.
"Do we have an understanding?" she asked sweetly, seeing that he grasped the full extent of the offer.
"I'd best get to my shopping list," he nodded. "If you're faster than they are, I'll be at the grocers or on the way here from there…"
She smiled to seal their deal, and nearly skipped up to the front door. Now she just had to convince cousin Isobel.
Still reeling from the surprise debut of the young noblewoman's conniving side, Thomas turned and walked as quickly as he could to the tailor's shop. With Ian's measurements delivered, he could place Mrs Patmore's grocery order for delivery that afternoon, and hopefully carry his personal purchase with him as he joined the expedition.
Not really caring that he was apparently being used as a potential bodyguard, he was nonetheless happy to be involved in Lady Edith's search for her mystery man. While he had solved far more than she had, this cooperation could offer additional opportunities both to better understand, and to better protect Ian.
And it was also his best guarantee to return by Mister Carson's deadline.