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It took them until sunset to carry the wounded to the hospital which now looked much like it had during the war, with countless beds filling the rooms. Dr. Clarkson had operated dozens of patients and finally help arrived from York. More nurses, doctors and medical supplies. Those who had helped were gathered in the courtyard where Mrs. Crawley made sure they got some hot soup and tea. Mrs. Patmore had immediately volunteered to prepare the worn out men and women supper. The firemen had lit some torches between the tables and benches. Usually all that was used for fairs and village dances. Carson sat with the other servants who hungrily spooned the soup and took huge gulps of tea in a desperate attempt to get a little warmer. He couldn't get himself to eat something. Since he had left Mrs. Hughes with Dr. Clarkson he had neither had any news nor the chance to see her.
Mrs. Patmore suddenly stood next to him. "Eat, Mr. Carson. You'll feel a little more yourself afterwards."
"But…"
"I know you want to see her", she said quietly. "Be patient and trust that she is taken care of."
"You don't understand. We…"
"I know, Mr. Carson. I'm not blind." She took his spoon and held it to him. "She would ask you the same thing and feed you if necessary."
The cook was right. If Mrs. Hughes were with them, she would go as far as feed him. The image did force a small smile to appear in his face, but it quickly faded. Mrs. Hughes was hurt and alone inside that building and he should not be out here, but with her. He forced himself to accept the spoon and empty his plate with it. Indeed, he felt a little more himself. The warmth did his frozen limbs well. He looked at up at Mrs. Patmore. "I'll go to see her now."
She nodded and made room for him to get off the bench. He made his way quickly to the building's entrance. Dr. Clarkson just stepped outside, his sleeves rolled up and a look of utter exhaustion on his face. When Carson wanted to get past him, the doctor stopped him by grabbing his arm. "You can't go inside."
"Why not?", Carson asked confused.
"At the moment we can only allow relatives to see them. We somehow have to control the amount of chaos."
"Fine", Carson grumbled. "Then at least tell me how she is."
"Carson, I'm sorry, but I've had way too many patients to remember. Besides, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you."
"Excuse me?"
"You are not related. Wait until tomorrow, then I might be able to…"
"Listen!", Carson grumbled, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"You heard him, Carson", the Earl said calmly. "I understand that you worry about her, but she is in very capable hands."
"No, you don't understand, milord", Carson replied angrily.
"Carson, it's enough", Lord Grantham warned him.
"But…"
"I'm sure you can visit her as soon as we have moved some of the patients to Ripon and Thirsk", Dr. Clarkson told him, oblivious to the fact how tense and angry Carson had gotten throughout the conversation.
"You two will listen to me now!", Carson bellowed, not caring that he was addressing the Earl and getting almost everyone's attention now. "Mrs. Hughes and I are engaged, so I believe I have every right to go through that door."
Lord Grantham's jaw dropped while Dr. Clarkson let go of the butler's arm in surprise. Carson ignored the two men and entered the building. He remembered exactly where Mrs. Hughes lay. He hurried towards the far end of the room.
"Carson, wait!", Dr. Clarkson called out for him, but Carson was determined to reach his fiancée's bed. And so he did. The blanket covered her all the way up to her chin. She was as pale as she had been when he had carried her to the hospital. Her arms lay on top of the blanket on each side of her body. Carson gently took her left hand in his and was shocked to feel how cold it was. He covered it with both of his large paws in hopes of getting it warm. "How is she?", Carson asked, his voice shaking slightly.
Dr. Clarkson checked a card that was fixed to one of the bedposts. He read it and sighed. "Not too well, I'm afraid. The blast forced several splinters to enter her body and I can't be sure I was able to remove them all. She lost a lot of blood and might still bleed inside. And then there are the broken bones. All we can do now is waiting for her to wake up."
"But she will wake up?" When Dr. Clarkson didn't answer panic gripped Carson. "Will she wake up?", he whispered, fighting tears.
The doctor sighed. "I don't know. She may get through, but I think you ought to prepare for the worst."
Carson shook his head. This couldn't be. He couldn't lose her to a tragic accident. She deserved better. To die of old age in her own home as Mrs. Carson. Her life was far from over with all the things left to do. All the things he needed her to know. If this was god or fate punishing him for taking so long to heal and repay her kindness and affection than it wasn't fair. He should be lying there. He was the old fool who hadn't understood and certainly not listened to his own heart.
"I'm sorry, Carson", Dr. Clarkson said and left them.
Carson sank down on the bed beside her, not once taking his eyes of her face. He held her hand to his chest where his heart was beating. "I need you to know that I love you, Elsie Hughes", he whispered. "If you can hear me, please try to wake up. Please…" He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly together to stop himself from sobbing. He lost track of time while he sat beside Mrs. Hughes, holding her hand and watching over her. The tears had dried. Carson felt too empty to cry more. Only now he realised that he was the only visitor left. He didn't know why they let him stay, but he was grateful that they did. The door was opened and familiar steps came towards him. "Why did she not tell me she wanted to go to York? I would have talked her out of it. I wouldn't have let her go. I would have told her the risk to end up in a snowstorm was too big. Anything…"
"She didn't tell you, because she planned a surprise for you and didn't want to give anything away. Besides, I'm sure she knew you would try to stop her", Mrs. Patmore answered, the sound of her voice proof for the tears Carson couldn't see with his back turned to her.
"It's my fault."
"It was an accident, Mr. Carson. You know that it was. Don't blame yourself. She wouldn't want that", Mrs. Patmore told him.
He hadn't the strength in him not to blame himself, to suffer less. The only thing he was capable of was being at her side and not leaving it. "I'll stay the night."
"All right", Mrs. Patmore answered gently and patted his shoulder before she left them. He knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake all night and surely couldn't fall asleep on the bed. Carson found himself a chair and tried to get a little comfortable. He sat close to Mrs. Hughes, letting their joined hands rest in his lap.
The sound of voices, steps and beds being moved woke him in the morning. His neck hurt before he even moved it and when he sat up straight his back cracked. It took a moment until his eyes worked properly and the first sight they caught was Mrs. Hughes. He had hoped to see that she was awake or at least more conscious than when he had fallen asleep, but she was still the same. Only her hand that had spent the night wrapped up in his was now warm. Looking around he saw that some patients were already able to leave while others were prepared to be moved to another hospital.
Dr. Clarkson was about to start his rounds, checking on Mrs. Hughes first. Carson looked out of the window while the doctor inspected the stitches he had made yesterday. "Those are fine, but I still don't know why she won't wake", he told Carson.
"Have you missed anything perhaps?", Carson asked.
"That's always a possibility. I'll check on her this afternoon to see if I can find anything else."
And with that Carson was alone with her again. A nurse brought him a tray with a small breakfast. He watched how the nurse lifted Mrs. Hughes's head and let a few drops of water dampen her lips. There was no way they could get food inside her. It dawned on Carson that with no food and far too little water Mrs. Hughes would lose more and more of her remaining strength. How was she to get better like that? He had a long discussion with the nurse who refused to feed Mrs. Hughes soup or porridge and in the end Carson saw reason. Mrs. Hughes couldn't swallow so forcing her to eat would be no help. His only hope was that she woke up. And that was something he had no influence on.
He sat there all day, praying for a miracle, but nothing changed. When Dr. Clarkson got Mrs. Hughes for further treatment, Carson took the opportunity to get fresh air. He sank against the cold stone wall of the hospital, trying to control his emotions.
"Carson?"
His eyes shot open, but he didn't bother to spring to attention in any way. After all, it was Lady Mary and he had more important duties than those of a butler to attend to at the moment.
"How is she?"
"Not any better", he replied weakly.
"And how are you?"
It took him a moment to decide what to say. In the end he went with the simplest answer. "Not good."
"I won't keep you from her, but please consider getting some proper rest, Carson. Would you do that?", Lady Mary pleaded.
"When she's better", he replied. Lady Mary gave him a pained look filled with worry. "If you need help, you know where to find me."
"Thank you, milady."
Mrs. Hughes was returned to her bed late in the afternoon. Carson jumped off of his chair when they finally carried her back. Dr. Clarkson was with them. "Why did that take so long?", Carson asked worriedly.
"I checked for more splinters and found one. It was difficult to remove it, but I managed. I hope it was the reason why she didn't wake. Now we must wait and see", Dr. Clarkson explained.
Carson nodded. Dr. Clarkson sounded more hopeful than he had the day before. But still Mrs. Hughes's condition did not improve until late in the evening. Carson was dozing off when he felt how Mrs. Hughes' hand squeezed his just so that he could feel it. His eyes shot open. "Mrs. Hughes?"
She moved her head in his direction , but didn't open her eyes. "Can you hear me?", he asked. He could see that she fought to move her eyelids. He put his other hand on her cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. "Don't! You need rest. You don't have to worry about anything."
He let out a shuddering breath of relief at the sight of her responding to his voice and moving. She pressed her cheek against his palm and he didn't remove it until she had fallen asleep. Even then he let it linger there and moved to press a feather light kiss to her forehead. Soon he dozed off, spending another night in a chair.
When Mrs. Hughes woke she felt weak. There was a sharp pain when she moved her head to the right and it took a good few minutes until she was able to open her eyes fully and get used to the dim morning light. She wasn't surprised to recognise the hospital. She remembered the accident quite clearly. Her memories only ended with the sound of the explosion. What was surprising to her was that she was still alive. That and the warm hands of the butler holding hers and resting in his lap. Of course he is here, she thought then, feeling stupid to have forgotten that they were engaged. But with the knock to the head she surely had suffered it didn't seem too strange to have forgotten.
Carson stirred and sighed as he woke up. His neck and back wore even worse than the day before, but the pain faded as soon as he saw blue eyes looking up at him. "Hello", he greeted her almost shyly, suddenly aware that this was the most intimate situation they had found themselves in since his proposal. They had held hands before, of course, but now it was quite different, owning a house together and being engaged.
"Hello", she replied hoarsely.
He beamed at the sound of her voice. "How are you feeling?"
It hurt a little to speak, but it was manageable. "Like I have been run over by a train."
"You remember it then?", he asked concerned.
"Parts", she answered. "Might I have some water, please?"
"Of course." He let go of her hand and got up. "I'll be back in a minute", he promised, hurrying to one of the nurses to get a breakfast tray. When he returned, he set it on the window sledge since there was no table. He poured a glass of water and hesitating shortly he moved one hand under her head to help her raise it to drink.
She was grateful for his help and felt a little more herself when the liquid found its way down her throat. "Thank you", she whispered, the hoarseness weaker than before.
"Do you feel like eating anything? The porridge is not as good as Mrs. Patmore's, but better than nothing", he offered.
"I'm not hungry", she told him. "Maybe later."
He accepted her decision and settled back in the chair.
"Can I ask you something?", she said after a while.
"Of course", he encouraged her and patiently waited for her to continue.
"How many nights have you spent in that chair?" Her voice was full of concern and it almost broke his heart. She was the one wounded and in need of being taken care of, yet she found it in her to worry about him.
"Two nights, since the day of the accident", he answered honestly. "I haven't left the hospital since then."
"But surely you were needed at the house and…"
"Mrs. Hughes", he interrupted her, swallowing hard. "I thought I was losing you. I was terrified that you would die, I… I still am. How could I have possibly left you?"
Mrs. Hughes didn't know what to say to that. There was so much pain in his eyes and he was being so honest. She reached for his hand and held it tight. "You're not losing me", she told him. "Not if I have a say in it."
He managed a smile and took comfort from the strength sparkling in her eyes.
The pair was looking so lovingly at the other that Dr. Clarkson felt a little guilty when he interrupted them. "The nurse told me you were awake, Mrs. Hughes", he said. "I'd like to talk to you and proceed with the treatments."
Carson and Mrs. Hughes exchanged a few glances, communicating without having to say a word. With the reassurance that she was all right if he left for an hour to get changed, he let her in Dr. Clarkson's care for the moment.
It felt good to breathe fresh air and have a walk. It cleared Carson's mind. He felt better knowing that she was awake. And he even held the promise he had given Lady Mary. He hadn't thought he would be able to when he had promised to return to the Abbey when Mrs. Hughes was better.
He got upstairs without being noticed. He was quick to have a wash and changed into his grey suit, the one he had worn at the beach. Feeling guilty about not letting the staff know how Mrs. Hughes was he popped into the kitchen and briefly informed Mrs. Patmore of the good news. In return she assured him everything was under control and that Thomas was doing a good job, although Lord Grantham didn't like it very much. Carson thanked her for the short report and decided to go upstairs in hopes of catching Thomas to give him further instructions and thank him for what he had done. After all, he had found Mrs. Hughes and afterwards taken care of the Abbey. In the great hall he didn't meet Thomas, but Lord Grantham who just came out of the library. "Carson, I didn't think I would see you here." The Earl sounded rather angry. "I never thought I would say that, but if Lady Grantham and my daughters weren't on your side I would have a very hard time not sacking you. You of all people should know that it is unacceptable to stay away from your post without permission."
"I do know that, milord, but I'm afraid the circumstances are asking for a change of rules and routine, wouldn't you agree?", Carson replied coldly.
"I won't say I don't understand your concern for Mrs. Hughes. After all you've been working together for almost three decades and no doubt have become friends. Nonetheless, I do have to ask you this: Was it really necessary to lie about an engagement in front of the entire village? I always thought you were a master of self-control."
Carson never thought he would be so angry with his employer, a man he respected, but in that moment it took all his self-control not to punch him. "It wasn't a lie. Mrs. Hughes and I are engaged to be married, we have been since Christmas. You of all people should know that I do not lie, certainly not in such a situation. I've been your butler long enough for you to know that. I'm sorry if you find my behaviour unacceptable, but in return I'd like to say that I find yours unacceptable, milord. Now if you'll excuse me. I have to get back to the hospital."
To say Lord Grantham was dumbfounded would have been an understatement. In fact he was so shocked he couldn't think of any sort of reply. Carson couldn't care less about that. He didn't even bother using the servant's entrance, but walked out of the front door. His loyalty lay first and foremost with Mrs. Hughes. It may not have been that clear to him in the past, but the threat of losing her had showed him where his priorities lay. His life was Mrs. Hughes. Not the Abbey. Not anymore.
TBC