A./N.: I apologize for the delay. I honestly thought I had more time, but alas no. This month is pretty crazy. 3 University papers due by the end of this month, 3 birthdays interspersed throughout the month, my best friend is getting married – so that mean hen night, legal wedding plus after party, church wedding plus HUGE after party – and don't forget the normal craziness of a summer's job and managing a household of 3 people. I hope you can all forgive me.

Again, I borrowed the name 'Glenna' (just love that name).

Enjoy and pretty please leave a review.

Regret & Absolution

Anna was wringing her hands as she stood in front of the door to Mrs Hughes' parlour. She was very nervous about entering, but she knew that the other maids relied on her. Ms O'Brien had even offered to talk to Mrs Hughes, if Anna was uncomfortable with it, but Anna felt that this wouldn't go over well. So here she was. Slowly she raised her hand and lightly knocked on the door. She breathed an audible sigh of relief when the answer came in almost the same tone as a few months before.

"Come in." The brogue in Mrs Hughes' voice was slightly more pronounced, but there was no hesitation in the answer or any trembling.

As Anna opened the door and cautiously entered, she felt a bit foolish. Everyone had been treading on eggshells around Mrs Hughes lately, and Anna was starting to think that it did the woman more wrong than good. Now she was met with a gentle smile from the woman she loved like a mother and her uncertainty vanished on the spot. This was still their Mrs Hughes after all.

oOoOoOo

Beryl bustled about the kitchen, shouting unnecessary instructions at the kitchen maids. Especially Daisy was set upon. There was absolutely nothing they could do right.

Charles stood silently in the doorway to the kitchen and observed the whole thing. He had the distinct feeling that the cause for Beryl's foul temper sat calmly in her parlour going over accounts. Ever since they had returned to the Abbey last Sunday, Beryl had been avoiding both the housekeeper and the butler – but especially the housekeeper. It was very strange and disconcerting, considering their close friendship of late. Charles sighed tiredly.

It would seem that the cook was about to break after doling out countless handkerchiefs, hugs, and reassurances to the maids and to him. He knew it had only ever been a question of when. Mr Bates had quietly asked Charles for a word upon their arrival home and had told him about what had been discussed in their absence. At first, Charles had been flustered and irritated about the fact that the staff had discussed his and Elsie's marital future behind their backs, but then he had been truly touched by their deeply-rooted concern for Elsie. More than anything, though, he had been shocked by Beryl's guilt. It was eating away at her from the inside.

Even her kitchen maids (all not the brightest girls, he had to admit) had realized the true reason for the cook's more-than-usually-stern behaviour. They didn't talk back, followed every order even if they were contradictory, and none of them took the cook really seriously. Daisy's eyes, though, started to look haunted and Charles could see that she was close to tears while the other maids also ducked out of the irate cook's way.

He had to do something – if only to rescue their dinner from total catastrophe.

oOoOoOo

As Anna entered the housekeeper's parlour, she was surprised to see the woman sitting on her plush settee, instead of at her desk. A small smile quirked her lips as she also noticed that Mrs Hughes had slipped out of her buckled shoes. With a critical eye, she took notice that they were a little swollen and she remembered seeing the housekeeper move around the house with almost the same energy and drive as before.

Mrs Hughes gave Anna an answering smile and waved her over to the settee. "Take a seat, Anna, and tell me what you wanted," she said jovially. A prettily decorated tray stood on the little side table. The single mauve coloured rose in a slender vase gave away who had brought her this small act of love and consideration. When Mrs Hughes followed her gaze, she blushed but tenderly stroked a petal nevertheless. "He wanted to make sure I was resting …" she trailed off, voice going very soft.

Anna's eyes lit up in joy and she eagerly approached the older woman. Today seemed to be a good day to have this talk; in truth, since the first reading of the Banns and their eventful walk back home all the maids had watched their superior with eagle eyes, making sure the boys behaved around her and that her chores were light and wouldn't put any strain on her, but they had also noticed that whatever had happened after they had left Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes to talk had helped immensely in rebuilding Mrs Hughes' former confidence. She seemed positively radiant lately. They had even heard her laugh earlier today when one of the maids had told a joke she had heard from her brother. Anna was confident now that Mrs Hughes would fully recover from her ordeal – and she was here to further this process.

"Mr Carson is a kind man," she offered quietly, then added a cheeky little observation, "even if he tries to hide it."

She was rewarded with hearing Mrs Hughes' laughter ring out once more. Her cheeks looked a little flushed and the dimples on her cheeks were far more prominent. Anna's heart lifted, seeing her dear, respected, and beloved superior so relaxed and carefree. A smile tucked at her own lips. She sat down beside the older woman, who she had come to see as a sort of surrogate mother, taking her hand in both of hers and after a few moments' hesitation she snuggled into her side. From the first day here in service, Anna had felt secure with Mrs Hughes. She had always had the impression that she better stay on her good side, but also that she could trust this woman explicitly.

Elsie's heart went out to her young charge. Anna was her favourite, she had to admit that, and the one girl she had let close to her heart. In all her years of service she had not mastered one rule – one rule only: Never let your charges get too close to you.

Anna had been chiselling away the last vestiges of restraint and distance Elsie had preserved in dealing with her subordinates. The moment the blond, obedient and hard-working girl had entered the Abbey and thus Elsie's life there had been no stopping the steady tumble of bricks from her protective wall around her heart. Anna had also breached the way for all the other girls. It was the reason why Elsie had felt that she had let down her girls.

Feeling Anna snuggling into her side now, made it clearer than any words Charles could have spoken; her girls still loved her and cared for her. She hadn't lost their respect and affection. Anna nervously shifted from one foot to the other, but her eyes held a question in their depths. Elsie tried to look encouragingly at the young girl and even managed a smile, despite her growing weariness of what Anna might ask of her. Then the young girl blurted out, surprising herself and the housekeeper with her question.

"Do you love him?"

Elsie blinked slowly, surprised and embarrassed by this particular question. Anna's hands had flown up and they were covering her mouth now, as if to try and retract the forward question. Her eyes now pleaded with Mrs Hughes not to be too terribly angry with her. When no breathy or angry reply was coming, Anna allowed herself to relax her arms a little and let them drop to her sides again. In truth Mrs Hughes was lost in thoughts. She had heard that question before – posed by another perceptible woman.

oOoOoOo

Glenna was pacing up and down before her sister, clearly angry and letting her sister know precisely what she thought of Elsie's decision. She wasn't her older sister for nothing.

"Who's the other chap?" she asked at last, sharply, like a gunshot.

Elsie just stared at her, totally aghast before spluttering, "What do you mean? There is no other 'chap'!"

"Why else did you have to turn down such a fine, upstanding man like Joe Burns?" Glenna was relentless and then she honed in on the kill. "It's that butler, innit?"

Again her younger sister just stood before her with her mouth hanging, wide and most unbecomingly, open. Now Glenna was almost certain that it had indeed something to do with Downton's esteemed butler. Ever since Elsie had started working at the Abbey in Yorkshire, she had constantly mentioned a Mr Carson, butler of the Abbey. If in letters or when she was visiting, Elsie was full of stories, observations of and praise for the man. Lately she had spoken more about a total stranger than the man, who had proposed to her.

"Do you love him?" she asked more gently now, eyeing her sister closely.

Elsie couldn't answer, but the blush in her cheeks was answer enough for her observant sister.

"Oh yes, you do," Glenna answered her own question for Elsie. Poor Joe Burns never had a snowflake's chance in hell then. Once Elsie's mind was made up there was no swaying the stubborn lassie.

oOoOoOo

Now Elsie had an answer for her young maid. She stated simply, "Yes very." Before Elsie's emotions could choke her up or she would reveal too much, though, she pressed a tender kiss to Anna's forehead and asked gently, "What is all this about then?"

Anna could have laughed and cried from sheer happiness all at the same time. They had their Mrs Hughes back! "It's about Ms O'Brien …" she started before she was interrupted by Mrs Hughes.

"What has that woman done now?" she asked far more sharply than before. "If she is up to no good again, she has picked the wrong day for it." And she made to get up and go in search of the usually trouble-making ladies' maid.

Now Anna did laugh out loud and wrapped both her arms around Mrs Hughes' arm, holding her back. "It's nothing like that, Mrs Hughes," she reassured, biting back a grin at the dubious look in the housekeeper's eyes. "She is sitting in the Servant's Hall with her sewing. And that is exactly why I need to speak with you."

Mrs Hughes frowned deeply. If for once Ms O'Brien was doing her work, why did she have to get involved? Raising one eyebrow delicately at Anna, she waited patiently for the girl to elaborate.

"She is not sewing anything for Her Ladyship, but … well, she is sewing something for you," Anna explained hesitantly. Her eyes were cast down onto the tips of her shoes and she swallowed heavily once she had finished. She didn't dare look up at Mrs Hughes and the thundercloud expression she anticipated.

"And why would Ms O'Brien sew something for me?" Mrs Hughes' voice sounded more surprised and intrigued than anything else – certainly not angry.

Anna dared to pear at her from under her lashes. Sending her superior her most dazzling smile, Anna revealed the maids' plan, "It was all her idea … well, it started with Daisy saying that she would love to bake you a wedding cake and then Ms O'Brien cut in, saying that you would most certainly need a wedding dress … and well, if you would allow her … and she really only means well … no bad intention …" Anna was alarmed to see large tears filling Mrs Hughes' eyes, but, before she could apologize for their error in judgment and beat a hasty retreat, Mrs Hughes launched herself at the startled girl. Wrapping both arms firmly around Anna's back and shoulders, she hugged the young woman to herself and pressed a tender kiss to her cheek. Elsie didn't trust her voice – couldn't even form any words to express her gratitude and surprise. She just held on to the one girl, who had become like a daughter. Charles had been right; her girls still loved her – or maybe they even loved her more now than before.

Pressing another kiss to Anna's other cheek, Elsie finally uttered the only two words that came to her, "Thank you, my darling, darling girl."

Anna was overjoyed. Her own arms wrapped around the housekeeper while she nuzzled her face into the neck of the older woman. She had longed to hold her from the moment they had heard what had happened to her. All the maids had silently kept vigil before the housekeeper's room, taking turns each night to make sure there was always someone at hand should she wake in the night or have any setbacks. Now her arms wound tighter around the older woman and she held on for dear life, drinking in the life and warmth Mrs Hughes exuded. She inhaled deeply and let the tension slide from her body. Her surrogate mother was back and stringer than ever.

Tentatively she came up with the real reason for her visit, not letting go of Mrs Hughes for one bit. "Ms O'Brien needs your proper measurements. You can only work from an old dress so much, and …"

"You are such darling girls. How can I thank you?" Elsie interrupted, drawing back a little to look Anna in the eye.

Anna blushed red and ducked her head. "You always do so much for all of us, it's the least we can do to repay you," she mumbled, embarrassed.

Mrs Hughes laughed, and it was music to Anna's ears. "Still, you didn't have to. Of course you can have my …"

Suddenly they were interrupted by a commotion from the kitchen. Mrs Hughes and Anna traded a worried glance, but then sprang into action. Mrs Hughes leaned down to put her shoes back on and Anna preceded her to the door and opened it for Mrs Hughes. Now they could hear voices – or more accurately one voice.

Mrs Patmore was shouting at the top of her lungs at Daisy and the other kitchen maids, having most of them in tears. Daisy crouched on the floor, picking up the sorry remains of the staff's tea sandwiches. Her face was blotted with tears and she bit her lower lip in an attempt to stem the new tears and to also stem the angry words on the tip of her tongue. She had had enough of Mrs Patmore's temper, especially since it was uncalled and unjustified for.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Mr Carson's booming voice brought everything to an abrupt stop. Even Mrs Patmore shut her mouth mid-word and faced the doorway. A moment later said doorway was filled by the imposing figure of one very irate butler. His eyebrows were drawn together and his face was beginning to colour due to anger. "Beryl?"

It wasn't often that Charles used her given name and Beryl instantly knew that she had gone too far. It was one thing to vent her anger and guilt on her kitchen staff, but it would never do to really annoy her oldest friend. She had been on the receiving end of his glares more often than she bothered to count and she didn't want a repeat of even one of those occasions. Swallowing with difficulty, Beryl straightened herself to her full (if diminutive) height and faced off against Charles.

"Those bloody girls will be the death of me, mark my words. There isn't enough wit between them to boil an egg …" She was on familiar turf, insulting the capabilities of her staff. They were used to it. Now though they all complained to Mr Carson, pleading their case and drowning out Beryl's rant.

"That is not true, Mr Carson. Mrs Patmore is intolerable today. She is unjust and overly demanding. She is absolutely impossible!" Daisy had reached the limit of her patience. She stood up, glaring daggers at the cook.

Mrs Patmore drew breath to berate the girl for her disrespect and false accusations when Charles spoke quietly but firmly. "That was very unkind," he stated plainly, and added after seeing Mrs Patmore's triumphant grin, "from both of you, Daisy, Beryl."

Now Beryl drew breath to rebuke Charles for reprimanding her in front of her staff, but she was cut off by the voice she had avoided like the plague for days.

"What is the matter with you?" Mrs Hughes' voice sounded sharply throughout the kitchen, back to full force. All the maids had come face to face with the Scottish Dragon at one point or another, and all of them would have gladly lived the rest of their working days at Downton never to see her again, but now most of them rejoiced in fiery temper of their housekeeper – all that is except Beryl Patmore.

"None of your business!" the cook snapped back. "They are my staff."

A split second after that statement left her lips, Beryl realized the error of her words. She had only time to close her eyes and take a fortifying breath, before a veritable storm broke over her.

"None of my business?!" Elsie snarled. "None of my business? I admit that I have been a bit lenient lately, but you listen here, young lady, everything in this household is my business. The running of this house is my responsibility and if you are set upon upsetting the whole thing it bloody well is my business. So for the last time; what is the matter with you?"

By now Elsie had crossed the room and was standing directly in front of Beryl, mirroring her glare. Then the last thing she expected to happen, did in fact happen. Beryl Patmore crumpled in front of her, tears pouring down her face and a choked sob tearing from her throat. With one hand she held on to the table and the other reached imploringly for Elsie.

"I'm so sorry, Elsie," she sobbed brokenly and hung her head in face.

Alarmed Elsie lurched forward to wrap her arms around the cook. Her eyes darted to Charles for help as her knees buckled under the weight of her friend. Charles immediately sprang into action, barking orders for everyone to leave the kitchen and hastening to Elsie's side and grabbing beryl gently by her shoulders to steady her. He then slowly led her to her little desk and sat her down in her stool. The cook was now sobbing into her apron, not being able to look neither the housekeeper nor the butler in the eyes.

A rustle of fabric was heard and the next thing Beryl felt were the comforting hands of her friend of her hands, drawing the apron away from her face. Once she dared to look up, she was met by the kind, blue eyes of her friend. "Beryl, please tell me what has you so worked up," Elsie demanded softly. Her voice held nothing of its former coldness and razor-sharp edges. Now it was all warmth and comfort.

And Beryl unloaded her heart and conscience. "It were all my fault, Elsie, don't you see?" she whispered, afraid but resolute to speak the truth. "You were out because of me. You were late because of me. You …"

"Beryl, no." Elsie's face showed alarm and concern. Charles, standing behind his fiancée, simply shook his great head. Neither held the cook responsible for what had happened that night, but they could understand why she might have come to the conclusion that she had been partly responsible.

"That is nonsense, Beryl," Charles threw in, as gently as he could. "You couldn't know what would happen."

Elsie shuddered, but then squared her shoulders and soldiered on. It was high time she put those demons back into their graves. "No," she said firmly, drawing strength from the truth of her words, "it was not your fault. It's not your fault for requiring a trip to the village. You could have sent a kitchen maid, and I shudder to imagine that happening to one of our girls. Or I could have sent a hall boy. It was my decision. It wasn't Charles' fault for once upon a time knowing and working with the man who did it. And it wasn't my fault for … I don't know … for not fighting harder, I suppose. Neither of us is responsible for what happened that awful night. Only Mr Grigg is the culprit – and he was forced to assume responsibility for his deeds."

Beryl nodded slowly, blinking the tears from her eyes and attempting a very weak grim smile. "I still wish I had the chance to test my new knife on him," she muttered under her breath, drawing a giggle from Elsie and a raised eyebrow from Charles. Then she noticed Elsie kneeling in front of her and gasped. "Oh Elsie, you shouldn't! This can't be good for you or the baby," she exclaimed and jumped up from her chair, tugging at Elsie's hands to help her rise. Charles, too, wrapped an arm around Elsie's waist and supported her as she pushed off the floor.

"Don't worry over me so much," Elsie said, rolling her eyes. "You had better think of something to apologize to your maids. I think you scared them today."

Beryl nodded, blushing furiously in shame. The colour of her face now matched that of her hair. She would most certainly have to apologize to her maids. She had been a real menace.

Charles drew Elsie into his side and whispered into her hair, "Well done, my dear."