Hello, apologies for the delay in updating. I'm back to class now so probably won't be updating as frequently as before, but I promise to update regularly. Also, in the context of this story, Mr. Carson never learned the truth of Anna's attack. Most of this was typed up quickly between classes so here goes:
Charles woke early and began to make preparations. He was downstairs before even the kitchen staff and quickly tidied Elsie's sitting room, whilst planning how to tackle the issue at hand. He knew it would become known that the housekeeper had suffered injuries; they were quite visible after all. What was needed was a story to explain how the injuries happened and reduce any suspicions as to what had actually occurred.
As the kitchen came to life and more of the staff came trickling downstairs, his anxiety began to grow. How was it that the woman lying upstairs solved the problems of others countless times, making it seem like an effortless task? He couldn't even hatch a plan to help the person he held most dear. He moved to his pantry to contemplate the issue, nervously pacing to focus his thoughts.
Suddenly it all clicked into place, and the solution brought him more anger than relief. Elsie's panic at the thought of being discovered stemmed from the fright of the attack and the emotions that such a violation brought with it. The normally strong woman, while handling the situation remarkably well, was dealing with a storm of emotions and pain. He was afflicted by the same problem as he dealt with the knowledge of what had happened to the woman he loved. This was a devastating situation for them both.
Because of this, they were seeing a problem where there really was none. The others didn't know the true reason behind Elsie's injuries, which could easily be explained by a fall. They had no reason to suspect such a heinous event had taken place. His injured hand could be explained the same way; he may as well have closed it in a door. It may be unusual that they happened the same day, but not out of the question. His mind flashed to the nasty fall Anna had taken last year; these accidents happen all the time. Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes were the old leaders of downstairs, never suspected of having lives outside of the jobs to which they had devoted their lives.
No one knew they were together last night; this could all easily be disregarded and forgotten once their injuries had healed. This is what angered Charles the most. Flames of fury flared in his stomach and a rage began to build. It wouldn't be forgotten by others, to them, there would be nothing to forget. It would be as if the event never happened.
Except that it had. To his darling Elsie. She experienced the pain of that animal's slap across her cheek, their hands on her body, leaving bruises in their wake. She heard their disgusting words, felt the terror of their weight above her. And they would feel no punishment, no remorse for their actions.
Tears were rolling down his face, the injustice of the situation almost bringing him to his knees. He clenched his injured hand, relishing in the pain of the action. He allowed the storm of emotions to take over; the fear of the night before at seeing his beloved in that situation, the rage that took over, and utter disappointment that he had not killed the men who dared to touch her.
He came to himself moments later as a sharp knock rang out from the pantry door. Wiping his face of all traces of emotion, he answered.
"Enter."
In stepped Mr. Barrow, shutting the door behind him.
Thomas. How could he have forgotten, the one person who could reveal at least part of what happened.
They stood in silence for a few moments, two men trying, and failing to read each other. It was Thomas who broke the stalemate.
"Morning Mr. Carson."
"Morning Thomas."
Silence lingered once more, neither sure how to continue, but knowing they must. Finally, Charles took the plunge.
"Thomas, I wanted to thank you for your assistance last night. Mrs. Hughes suffered a nasty fall just as she was coming back to the house. I was lucky to have come across her upon my return. Your help was very much appreciated."
Charles watched as the under butler's eyebrow rose upon hearing the explanation, and his gaze settled on the older man's battered hand.
Thomas voiced his skepticism, "Is that so?"
Charles moved his hands behind his back, clenching his fists at the other man's tone.
"Yes, quite an unfortunate day, I managed to close my hand in a door as well. I'm afraid I'll need your assistance in my duties today."
He could see Thomas didn't believe him. The man was quite clever, no matter how much he loathed to admit it. He kept on, playing the one card he hoped would affect the calculating Mr. Barrow.
"Mrs. Hughes is very grateful for your help, and your promise to keep silent brought her great comfort. You know how she dislikes when people fuss over her."
Thomas immediately softened at the mention of the housekeeper. One of the only people in the world who was kind to him, even when he gave her no reason to be. He knew something had happened, something they were hiding, but if she wanted it kept secret, then he could give her that. Still, he could have a little fun with the butler in the meantime.
"You're wrong Mr. Carson."
"What do you mean?"
"Mrs. Hughes is a woman, she likes fuss, only from one person in particular." With that, he quickly fled the pantry before the butler had a chance to respond.
Charles blushed at the implication, but was in no place to reprimand the man. Thomas hadn't explicitly stated he would keep quiet, but Charles knew he could trust him. In this instance, they were on the same side. Something he thought could never happen. Elsie truly was a magical creature.
Still having sometime before his duties began, he informed Mrs. Patmore of the situation, the housekeeper's nasty fall, and requested a breakfast tray. He would take it to her himself, propriety be damned. His musings of the morning had helped him better understand what Elsie was saying the night before. He felt the helplessness and despair at knowing that another had suffered, and nothing would be done about it.
He needed her to know he would be there to care for her, that his words were not just spoken as a result of a tumultuous situation.
By allowing his emotions to tumble out earlier, some of the poison that had invaded his soul had left with them. He was far from recovered from the situation, but he knew he needed to show his support. He also realized he needed to better control his feelings, and felt deep shame at the desire that threatened to consume him.
Being allowed to touch her for the first time in such intimate ways had awakened feelings that he had buried under a mountain of rules and propriety. Even now as she lay recovering high above him in the attics, he felt the urge to seek her out, pull her into his arms, taste her sweet lips. He would need to keep a physical distance while supporting her emotionally.
If she knew his thoughts she would be mortified and most likely uncomfortable at the passion he felt for her. She had just experienced something truly horrendous and would most likely not want these physical displays for quite some time. He would never want to make her uncomfortable.
He had decided before the incident that he would put Elsie above all other things in his life. He would endeavour to do so now, but accepted that his thoughts on retirement and marriage would now be delayed. In no way would he rush her into these events, especially when she should focus on recovery. This would not keep him from starting the process of transition however. Thomas could begin taking on some of his duties. Elsie needed him.
Elsie woke to the kitchen maid's knock, with a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach. She felt nauseous as she reflected on the day before, the feel of harsh, unwelcome touches on her body. She rolled over and clutched her stomach, hoping the feeling would pass.
Trying to move to happier thoughts she began to reflect on Charles' actions of the night before. The man was so very tender and understanding.
She was shocked at the strength he had displayed while fighting those men. She had never before witnessed such a display of pure physical force from one person. Such a contrast from how he treated her, his touch soothed her and made her feel safe.
She slid her legs out from the covers and ran her fingers over the ugly bruises that covered them. Tears began to form as memories of the attack came, they took over her senses and suddenly she was there again, the smell of alcohol in the air, the rough hands groping her legs.
She needed to make new memories, ones of tenderness and care. Ones with the man who could make her feel desired and cared for all at once. She couldn't have her only memories of such an intimate touch be so violent and repulsive.
Last night Charles had been so gentle and tactile, she yearned to feel his soothing hands on her again. She tried not to worry about what they would tell the others about her injuries. He asked her to trust him and she did, with every fibre of her being.
Laying there in the silence she contemplated her situation. Having time to think about things, she knew this was not her fault. She was far too sensible a woman to think otherwise. She'd gone over this with dear Anna just last year. The horror that girl had gone through far outstripped last night's experience.
She also knew that women in these situations were not treated fairly by the authorities. Charles had an idealized view of the carriage of justice. The so called justice they sought had more to do with damage to a husband's property than the injustice inflicted upon the women themselves. The stigma attached to this situation would be far worse than any punishment those men may eventually receive. And she had no husband to speak of. Just a darling butler who promised to cherish her.
The dear man.
Just as her stomach announced her hunger, there was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in."
The door opened, revealing the subject of her thoughts carrying a fully packed breakfast tray.
He made his way over and gently placed the tray over her lap.
"I thought you might be hungry."
"You thought correctly." She patted the bed beside her in invitation, "Why don't you sit while I have breakfast. You can have some of this, I can't possibly eat it all."
"Certainly," Charles turned and brought a chair next to the bed. He didn't notice the expression on her face fall at his actions.
Elsie felt hurt as he ignored her suggestion in favour of the chair. Perhaps he just misunderstood. Needing to reassure herself of their connection, she set the tray beside her and moved closer to him. She reached to place her hand on his cheek but he quickly caught her hand in his before she could reach him.
"You should eat."
Tears began to form in her eyes and she cursed how emotional she was being. Confusion flooded her. Had he changed his mind? It didn't make sense, he seemed so certain of his feelings last night. She looked into his eyes but only saw love and devotion staring back at her. Still confused, she decided on the straight forward approach.
"Charles, what's wrong?"
His brows furrowed as he answered. "Nothing's wrong, what do you mean?"
She squeezed his hand as she spoke. "I want you to touch me."
Thoughts? Concerns? Not in character? In character and you want to tell me so? Suggestions? Please review if you have the time.
Thank you for reading.