A./N.: Some cuteness to lighten the mood after the last two very emotional chapters and to signal a change in Elsie's attitude. We move towards the wedding with big steps. If you have a particular wish for the baby's gender please leave that in your review or PM me (I'm totally undecided - both sexes leave plenty of options to explore). Have fun reading. Love, Andrea.

Through My Sister's Eyes

That night Elsie had fallen into bed, mentally and physically exhausted from the events in the library. Once she had been able to think clearly again and reflect on what had transpired, Elsie had cringed, feeling her cheeks flame crimson in shame. She had not been ashamed about confiding in Glenna, but about the manner in which she had done it; upstairs, in the Family's library, where everyone could have come in or worse listened at the door. It was the first time in all her years of service that she had allowed her professionalism to slip from her. Glenna's sudden appearance, though, had effectively driven every other thought out of her mind, leaving her trembling from head to toe and feeling five years old again. Once Elsie had been safely tugged away in her own room, she had recapitulated what had happened and what had been said.

Her fears about being shunned by her only remaining family had been assuaged, while Glenna had also re-ignited some of her old fire. For a horrible moment Elsie had really feared that Glenna truly meant for her to 'get rid' of her child, lashing out against her and fighting tooth and nail for the little life growing in her. When she had chanced a glance back at her later, out of the safe haven of Charles' arms wrapped tightly around her, she had seen Glenna wearing a happy, relieved smile, even though she was also fighting tears. In that instance Elsie had understood her older sister clearly, almost hearing her teasing brogue in her ears, "Well done, lassie, fight for what you truly want. That's my bonnie, wee girl." After all, her sister had been raised according to the same Calvinist values as she had, categorically disapproving of abortion.

Now in the early morning hours of the next day, Elsie again fought a smile, deprecating herself a little for believing her sister capable of such an unfeeling notion. Shyly she let one hand glide up onto her abdomen, resting it on the little bump there and feeling the soft swirls float through it. Yes, Glenna, Beryl, her girls, and Charles were right; she had to start fighting again … and she would fight, against Grigg's memory, for her unborn child, for Charles and their marriage. For months now Elsie had been terrified to think that Grigg had beaten the spark, the fire inherited by the women of her family, out of her. Lashing out against Glenna Hughes MacKenzie, of all people on this earth, had proven to her that there was plenty of spark and life left in her.

Almost grinning now, Elsie felt ready to tackle her day. Getting up slowly, trying to outwit the now familiar morning sickness, she slid her legs over the edge of her bed, ever so slowly pushing herself into an upright position. Then she had to rush to her wash basin, where she was sick as predicted. Heaving, she thoroughly emptied her stomach of every single morsel she had consumed yesterday … or so it seemed to her. Finally the convulsions eased and she was able to sit down, relieving her wobbly legs from her weight and sinking to the floor. Clumsily she reached up to grab her wash cloth to wipe her mouth, but before her shaking fingers could locate it someone knelt down beside her, pressing a wet, cool cloth against her neck.

"It's … it's alright, Mrs Hughes," Daisy's tentative voice broke through the fog of her thoughts.

Elsie looked up and saw Daisy kneeling next to her, holding the cloth to her neck while her other hand poured a little water over the one next to the wash basin and some into a glass, deep concentration furrowing the young girl's brows.

"I came to wake you when I heard …" the girl trailed off lamely. There was no lady-like manner to describe what Elsie had been doing.

"… when you heard me puking my soul out," Elsie supplied dryly, causing Daisy to drop the cloth in Elsie's lap, shocked and open-mouthed.

Squeaking at the cold shock, Elsie hastily picked it up again before tenderly closing Daisy's moth with a forefinger. "It is entirely normal, I'm afraid," she said kindly, remembering Daisy's shy approach the other night to touch her stomach. She knew that the girl's blood family hardly warranted that title. Almost from her first day at the Abbey Daisy had gravitated towards the cook and, to a slightly lesser degree, towards the housekeeper, despite being intimidated by both strong women. Now the timid girl seemed to overcome her awe, wanting to care for Elsie and taking on the role of 'older sister'.

The older woman smiled reassuringly and patted her shoulder, saying softly, "Help me up please. I have to get ready for the day."

Daisy's eyes narrowed a bit and covertly travelled over Elsie's face, searching for signs of weakness or residual nausea. When she was satisfied that Mrs Hughes wouldn't keel over, Daisy wrapped one arm around the housekeeper's waist and put one hand under her elbow, hoisting her up. Mrs Hughes paled impossibly further and even swayed on the spot, but she remained steadfastly on her feet. When Daisy stepped away from her, her hand slid along her waist and stomach, coming to rest shyly on her abdomen, stroking her bump with a thumb.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked softly, eyes transfixed on Elsie's slightly protruding bump. Initially she had meant to just help, but now she felt great tenderness towards one of the two mother figures in her life.

Unguarded as they were in these early morning hours, Elsie slowly covered Daisy's hand with one of her own before tenderly embracing the young girl, pulling her tightly against her chest. "Oh yes, I'm alright now," she reassured, smiling softly. "Thanks to you, Daisy. It was very kind of you to help."

The young girl beamed, then bounded out of the room. "I'll tell Mrs Patmore to have dry toast ready for you when you get down – and lots of tea, but not too strong …" And off she went, Elsie being left behind with a big smile on her lips.

"Charles was onto something," Elsie muttered to herself. "My girls love me more now … and won't stop fussing until you have arrived." She gently placed her hand on her stomach, stroking over it with her thumb.

oOoOoOo

Waking up in a strange bed in a lavishly decorated bedroom, Glenna felt terribly disoriented at first. Only gradually her memory returned and she felt her heart plummet once more. Seeing her sister hurting like this had torn at her heart. She was forever the mother, the caregiver, the protector, not just for her own children, but also for her younger sister.

This ball of tightness in her stomach was a mixture of guilt and terrible dread. She wanted so desperately to help her sister, but in all honesty she wasn't sure if her involvement would be beneficial to Elsie or indeed what it should involve. In her experience women like Elsie were wrongfully shunned and publicly degraded, but here in Downton, upstairs and downstairs, everyone had rallied to help and support her. Finally Glenna was able to see why her sister had always insisted that she had found a family here. At the time she had been hurt and had felt belittled. It had been one of the silly reasons that had kept them apart in the last years.

Sighing deeply, she turned onto her side … and encountered the soft green of her husband's wide-open eyes.

"Oh," she mumbled, blushing furiously under his scrutiny. "Did I wake you?"

"Oh aye, lassie," he chuckled softly. "Your thinking is loud enough, I'm sure our bairns hear'em."

"I do hope they don't," Glenna exclaimed, her face going from pink to white in an instance. "They shouldn't … Elsie would be devastated … they …"

"Easy, lass, easy," Brian interrupted his wife, smoothing his hand gently along her curves. Since they had found out, Glenna was distraught and high-strung, trying to be strong in front of her children and strong enough for Elsie to help carry her burden. Now Brian saw the cracks appearing in her armour, having expected it to happen before long. Both Hughes sister were used to bottling their feelings up instead of facing them and sooner or later it would inevitably break out of them. Brian had seen it before with Glenna. He simply drew her closer to him and stroked her back over and over, listening broken-heartedly to her ragged breath in a fertile attempt to hold back her tears. "Lassie, listen to me," he said softly, nuzzling her hair and kissing her forehead. "Our Elsie is a strong woman. You being here for her and listening to her is already helping her immensely. There isn't anything special you need to do for her, except being her big sister and loving her as you always have. You can do that, can't you?"

Drawing another deep, ragged breath, Glenna nodded slowly, her face pressed against the opening of his pyjama top, and shyly pressed up against him to kiss the corner of his lips. "I'm a very lucky woman to have bagged me such a wonderful husband," she teased tenderly, making Brian roar with laughter and pressing her impossibly closer to him. "How do you always know what to say or do to make me feel better?"

"Och, that's easy," he chuckled close to her ear, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. "I know my wife."

oOoOoOo

Glenna covertly observed her little sister as Elsie bustled around downstairs, directing her maids to their various chores, notebook in one hand and the other subconsciously over her abdomen. It brought a brilliant smile to her lips and a low chuckle from the man standing next to her.

"Looks familiar, doesn't it," Brian teased, eyeing his wife out of the corner of his eyes.

Glenna shot him a half-hearted glare before her lips quirked up at the corners and she gave in. "Sure, she looks like Ma did during searing season when she was pregnant with Elsie." She admitted in a roundabout way.

"Mhm," Brian mumbled incoherently, glancing back at his sister-in-law. "Or like her sister – bossing her poor husband around …" Then he artlessly ducked out of the way of her elbow aimed at his rips.

"She does not," Glenna hissed, fighting laughter, "she's far sweeter than me."

Leaning against her kitchen wall, Beryl shook her head with an indulgent smile, having been privy to the whispered conversation of the MacKenzies. She had always suspected that Elsie had a far more caring and vulnerable side to her character than she let on in her capacity as housekeeper. The maids and her kitchen staff, even a few footman and hall boys, had quickly noticed this and poured their hearts out to the kind woman. She in turn had taken them under her maternal wings and clucked over them.

Something had changed yesterday with this mysterious sister of hers appearing in the Abbey, and Beryl was eternally grateful for that. Then again, she wanted to know in what way Glenna had been able to help Elsie that she or Charles hadn't been able to. It wasn't necessarily jealousy, but it was niggling away at her. With a deep sigh she remembered her own sister and how close she was to her. Smiling to herself, she had to admit that Molly certainly knew her better than anybody else and could handle her in every situation no matter how flustered or frustrated she became. She knew without a doubt that she could count on Molly whatever might come – after all if you couldn't trust in and rely on family, who else could you. Maybe it was time to write another letter to Molly and reassure herself of her sister's unadulterated love as well.