A./N.: What can I say ... Another chapter that ran away with me. Very male-centric and should come under the headline of "Men! Oy weh!" Next chapter will focus on Elsie and Glenna, I promise. Please review and tell me what you think.

Protectiveness

Cora silently pulled her daughter into the drawing room to give them privacy as Charles Carson and Brian McKenzie both appraisingly eyed each other.

Lady Grantham felt that her presence would not help the atmosphere brewing in her entrance hall. She had seen the looks Mr McKenzie had exchanged with Mr Carson. If she wasn't mistaken, and she very much doubted that, she would have to referee between the two men sooner or later. They both seemed ready to protect her housekeeper from judgement, harsh words, or whatever else their counterpart had in store, even if it involved flying fists. She sighed deeply. Men! Men and their damned egos!

Straightening to her full height and squaring her shoulders, Cora made a decision and rang the bell to summon one of her footmen. She then went back out into the entrance hall, well aware of Sybil eagerly following her. Then she softly cleared her throat to make her presence known and waited until Mrs Hughes or Mr Carson would acknowledge her. When none seemed to notice her standing in the doorway, Cora cleared her throat again, a little louder this time. Now Mr Carson whipped around and his eyes sheepishly met hers, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

"Pardon me, Your Ladyship," he mumbled, clearly embarrassed and prepared to make amends, but Cora stopped him with a raised hand.

Stepping forward now, she addressed her butler with a quiet voice, seeing as her housekeeper still clung to her sister like a drowning woman would to a raft. "Please accompany Mrs Hughes and her sister into the drawing room. Tea is already waiting and it may be more comfortable than standing out here," she said with a tender smile towards the two women, her voice soft and welcoming. To Hell with English class distinction and propriety! She only wanted to see Mrs Hughes smile again without any shadows lurking in her eyes.

Beside her Lady Sybil fought a smile and tears simultaneously. Her eyes were fixated on Mrs Hughes' trembling and sobbing back as she was protectively wrapped in Mrs McKenzie's arms. Cora could see that she longed to rush forward and be part of that hug. Tenderly interlacing her fingers with her daughter's, she drew her closer to her side and gave her a soft, reassuring smile.

Cora wasn't sure who she addressed more directly, Carson or Sybil, but in her heart she believed the truth of her words and their power over both fretting individuals. "Give them both a few moments and they will be fine." Looking up at their visitor, she finally acknowledged his arrival. "Mr McKenzie I presume?"

Brian was a bit flustered by this grand lady. He was more used to farmhands and his fellows down at the pub or his wife's friends. This was Elsie's world, always had been. He bowed stiffly to the lady of the house and her daughter. "At your service, M'Lady," he stated as collectedly as he could, reciting words he had once read in a Jane Austen novel left on the farm by Elsie. Seeing a quickly stifled smirk on Lady Sybil's face, he wondered if he had overdone it, made a fool of himself and in association with him of both Glenna and Elsie.

"I welcome you into my home, Mr McKenzie, you and your wife. Be assured that you are most welcome indeed. Our Mrs Hughes has been …" Cora stopped herself, not sure how much their housekeeper had told her family in a letter. Prudence was the better part of valour after all.

Brian felt his jaw muscles clench together. He nodded stiffly, before trusting his voice enough not to sound to terribly angry. "Aye, we know."

It was enough of an answer for Cora at that moment. She saw Carson's hands curling into fists at the tone of Mr McKenzie's voice and she had felt Sybil stiffen beside her. There was a lot of anger in that voice and a lot of unresolved emotions too multiple to name. Swallowing the lump of dread in her voice, Cora spoke in the same soft voice. "Maybe Carson could show you to your room and you could settle in until your wife joins you. Please do not hesitate to ask for any assistance you might need." The moment she had mentioned Carson's name, she felt that she had made a mistake. Mr McKenzie's eyes had narrowed to slits and he had inhaled rather sharply.

"I thank you, M'Lady," he said, polite enough. "We had thought of staying at the Grantham Arms in town …"

"Nonsense," Lady Sybil cut in, taking a half-step forward. "Mrs Hughes' family is more than welcome in this house." Very quietly she added, "She so needs you." Tears gathered in her eyes and she hastily turned around and raced upstairs, overcome by her own emotions.

"You have to excuse my daughter, but she is very fond of our Mrs Hughes," Cora explained softly, her eyes following her daughter. Maybe it was high time she had a long talk with her youngest and really make sure she could cope with what had happened in the last months. She feared that she had neglected her children lately. "We all are," she added almost inaudibly.

Carson could see that Cora longed to go after her daughter and that only civility kept her in place. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw William bounding up the servants' stairs and waved him over to them. "M'Lady, I will take care of our guests and make sure everything is properly taken care of," he assured his employer before turning to William. "Take Mr McKenzie's luggage to the Princess Amelia, please. I will follow with Mr McKenzie in a moment."

As William made light work of the two small suitcases, Carson noticed Lady Grantham speaking quietly to their guest and then excusing herself to follow her daughter upstairs, but he paid them little heed. His focus was on Elsie and her sister, still embracing. Indeed it seemed that Mrs McKenzie wouldn't let go of her younger sister anytime soon. Approaching the two women carefully, he lightly touched Elsie's elbow and brought her attention to him. Her reaction was instantaneous; her head came up and she whirled around facing him. With tender fingers he reached out to her and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "Elsie, love, there is tea in the drawing room. You might be more comfortable in there."

Elsie only nodded mutely and grasped Glenna's hand tightly, drawing her along after her. She couldn't talk around the lump in her throat or the tears still pouring down her face. A peaceful few moments in the arms of her older sister, her protector of times gone by, would maybe restore some of her equilibrium and confidence.

After ensuring that the women would not be disturbed in the foreseeable future, Charles turned back to Mr McKenzie and indicated that the other man was to follow him. He didn't know why, but he had the distinct feeling that Brian McKenzie held a crutch against him, that he had done something to displease him. Trudging up the stairs he was pondering what he could have done to anger Mr McKenzie. He was so deep in thought that he didn't immediately realize that he was spoken to.

"You're Mr Carson?" Brian's voice was cutting. His Scottish accent was much thicker than Elsie's, less refined and far more hostile.

Charles was taken aback, but answered politely nevertheless. "Yes, Charles Carson. Pleased to finally meet you."

"Not for long," Brian ground out.

That brought Charles up short. Cautiously he turned around, his eyes fiery and his voice dangerously calm. "I beg your pardon?"

Neither man was aware that Mr Bates and Lord Grantham were approaching them from the gallery, having just exited His Lordship's dressing room. Mr Bates instantly turned around and was about to walk to the far end of the corridor and the safety of the back stairs when he felt his employer's hand on his shoulder. Lord Grantham's brows were drawn together and her eyed Mr McKenzie suspiciously. "We should stay in case Carson needs us," he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

Mr Bates sighed and resigned himself to his fate. His first instinct had been to get as far away as possible from the potential fight and wait it out in the kitchen or servants' hall. Now he was drawn into the middle of it by Lord Grantham's misguided sense of solidarity. Slumping his shoulders, he decided to stay back. That decision was scattered to the four winds when they heard the next words out of Brian McKenzie's mouth.

"Elsie's letter said you are to marry her. Why?" Brian stepped forward until he stood toe to toe to Mr Carson, glaring at the slightly younger man. They were about the same height and he knew that all the hard labour on the farm and ensured that he could still throw a considerable punch. He would protect their Elsie against any further harm, humiliation and heartbreak. If it meant bruising his knuckles and breaking this impressive nose, he would do it gladly. Something in the other man goaded him … most likely his superior behaviour or the smug air around him.

Charles drew back in shock as he was so unexpectedly attacked. He hadn't known Elsie had written home and explained what had happened in a letter. Stupidly he had believed one of the girls had broken their promise to not interfere. 'Beryl will have some explaining to do', he thought grimly. Then he focussed his attention on Elsie's brother-in-law. Clearly the man was protective about her and little wonder if he knew what had been done to her, but why attack him. He was willing to do the decent thing. Elsie and he had overcome their initial misunderstandings and fears, insecurities. They were both happy with their arrangement.

Drawing a deep breath, he answered Mr McKenzie as truthfully as possible, "We are to marry because of what happened to her. It is the only way to protect her reputation and honour, her position in this house …"

Suddenly he had to duck to avoid the swing of a fist. Brian had thrown a punch at him in rage. "She'll not need ye to protect her honour." He actually spat the word as if it was an insult. "She'll have family to look out for her. I know what was done to her and I'll not have her hurt any more by a dishonourable scoundrel as yerself."

That went too far for Robert Crawley. Carson had been in his employ for more years than he cared to count and he had long since earned the trust of the entire family. To have a complete stranger talk to him this disrespectfully and threaten him was unacceptable. Striding forward he grabbed Mr McKenzie's fist as he drew it back to throw another punch and wrenched the man around.

"You will apologize, Sir, this instant," he roared.

John Bates closed his eyes, not able to believe what he saw. Were they mad? What had gotten into level-headed Mr Carson and genteel Lord Grantham? Bates shook his head sorrowfully. He knew exactly what had gotten into both men – all three most likely. They were boiling for a fight and faced with only each other they were almost naturally at each other's throats. Ever since Mr Carson had returned from the prison in Ripon, he had battled bouts of anger and more often than not his footmen had borne the brunt of it. Lord Grantham had quietly seethed ever since his talk with the police when they had made their statements. It seemed that now their anger was turning into violence. He just hoped they would come to their sense before any damage was done.

Charles squared off against Brian and looked him straight into the eye, enunciating each word very carefully, "I'm marrying her, you Scottish hothead, because I love her. She is everything to me and I swear on everything I hold holy that I will protect her and her unborn child."

Brian stared back at him hard and unyielding. "It wasna you that raped her, but it was you who didna protect her," he spat. "She's a bonnie lass and I was worried fer her since she started workin'. This is all yer fault."

Logically there had been nothing anyone of them could had done and all men were well aware of it, but logic had no place in their hearts right now. The woman they held dear was hurting and since they could lash out against the man who had done that to her, they were lashing out at each other.

Charles gave a mighty roar and lunged at Brian, crashing the older man into the wall of the corridor. "Do you think I don't know that?" he demanded hoarsely. "I lie awake each night and damn my soul to Hell for not protecting her. God help me, but I wanted to kill Grigg for laying a hand on her. God help me, I'd still do it if I had the chance. I want to rip his heart out."

"Wrong organ," Lord Grantham managed to grind out between clenched teeth.

Bates was shocked by those words. Lord Grantham, gentleman that he was, had never hurt another living thing if it could have been avoided, even during the Boer War. And Mr Carson had never struck him as a violent man who could entertain thoughts like that.

"Grigg, you say," Brian honed in on the name of the responsible swine and eyes spoke more eloquently of murder than his words could express.

Bates hastily stepped forward. "He has been dealt with," he provided before any of the gentleman present could get any stupid ideas. He would be damned if he let them go and murder Grigg and get themselves turned in. 'How would I explain that to Mrs Hughes?' he asked himself, almost hysterically.

"Has he?" Brian obviously seemed unimpressed by the state's laws and law enforcement.

"Aye," Charles answered him. "She stood up to him bravely and he was sentenced to penal servitude for 10 years."

Brian nodded, but added dryly, "He deserves to swing."

All men nodded in agreement. Each of them would have gladly seen the bastard experience a fraction of the pain he had inflicted.

Brian almost gently pushed Charles away from him and straightened to his full height, tugging at his jacket and dragging a hand through his hair to smooth it. He then held out his right hand to Charles and looked him straight in the eye. "If you ever hurt her, I will have your head," he said clearly then softened, "but until then I reckon it's 'Welcome to the family'."

Charles extended his own hand and shook Brian's. "If I ever hurt her, I'll have my own head."