Inside the chapel the family took up the front few rows. In the third row back, Mrs. Hughes sat beside Lady Mary, who sat beside Carson. On Carson's other side Lady Sybil leaned against the butler, dozing her way through the service. Lady Edith sat between her younger sister and Miss Randall.
Elsie watched the girls with curiosity. Mr. Carson said they were feeling the loss of their uncle very keenly. You could tell a lot about a person by how they react to personal tragedy.
Lady Mary sat ramrod straight, just like her butler. From time to time the young girl would look up at the butler as if to make sure she were sitting straight enough. Sensing her movement, he would look down at her and give an approving nod. Elsie bit her lip to keep from smiling at the strange pair.
Lady Sybil had long since lost interest in the proceedings. She had held Lady Rosamund's hand until the very last moment when the children were relegated to their proper seats. The pomp and circumstance of the event did not impress her. Young Sybil was still of the age to take naps and she decided to make up for the one she was missing. With her little hands clasped daintily in her lap, she slept contentedly at Carson's side. When Miss Randall noticed, she moved to wake the child, but Carson stopped her with a look.
Lady Edith was looking around at the congregation with an inquisitive eye. Elsie could guess what she was thinking. How is it possible that so many people knew her Uncle Marmaduke? How is it possible that so many of them look exactly like her Uncle Maramduke? The chapel was full of mustachioed men with dark coats. This place of memorial felt more like a place of business.
None of the boring men who stood to eulogize Mr. Painswick commented on any of the things the girls remembered him for. They failed to mention the card games he had taught them or the sips of sherry he had snuck to them. They neglected to commemorate the way only he could make Aunt Rosamund laugh at herself or the gracious way he absorbed Old Lady Grantham's barbs.
Finally, the droning buzz of the testimonies was done. It was time to inter the body. The family stood to lead the procession out of the chapel. Miss Randall followed Old Lady Grantham with Lady Edith beside her. Carson lifted Lady Sybil without waking her and followed with Lady Mary by his side. Mrs. Hughes hung back, unsure of her place until Mr. Carson looked back over his shoulder and motioned for her to join them with a tilt of his head.
-00-
Mr. Painswick was laid to rest in one of the fashionable mausoleums on the Lebanon Circle. Lady Rosamund insisted there was nothing too good for her husband. Lord Grantham and Carson exchanged a meaningful look as they passed the doors of the dead. Robert no longer felt the urge to knock on a door.
An apparently endless parade of black suits waited to offer their words of condolence to the family. The children grew restless. Sybil had woken up and squirmed down from Carson's grasp. She stood now, jostling back and forth between her sisters as Mary and Edith attempted to surreptitiously untie each other's hair bows. The adults were restless as well, but could not show it.
"Carson, why don't you take the girls to visit Mr. Farrimond's site?" Lady Grantham suggested after Lady Edith and Lady Mary had to be separated yet again.
"Very good, My Lady." Carson looked around, but did not see Miss Randall anywhere. A look from Mrs. Hughes assured him that he would not have to watch the girls alone.
Rather than take the children past the long line of people waiting to pay their respects, Carson led the girls and Mrs. Hughes further around the circle and up to the terraced catacombs. The girls were silent and properly respectful, which was why the giggles they heard came as such a surprise.
Mrs. Hughes caught Mr. Carson's eye and motioned for them to take the next turn to avoid what was obviously a pair of lovers hidden in the catacombs. He nodded and started to turn until he heard, "Roger, stop that. I have to get back."
The voice was unmistakably Miss Randall's. Carson turned a bright shade of red. He had a feeling he knew this Roger to whom she was speaking. If that blasted footman is here in London against my orders…
Mrs. Hughes and the girls flattened themselves against the wall to clear the way for the irate butler as he turned and headed towards the echoing voices.
"They'll be there for hours yet." Roger's voice dripped with false charm.
"I'll meet you tonight, as always."
"I can't wait."
"You most certainly can wait." Mr. Carson's voice hissed.
"Mr. Carson!" Roger's terrified exclamation echoed off the vaulted stone of the catacombs. The noise was too much for the girls and they hurried with Mrs. Hughes out into the open air of the cemetery. The heated conversation was still funneled out to them, reverberating through the corridors of the dead.
"How long have you been in London, Roger?"
"I don't see as how it's any of your business, Mr. Carson." Roger answered with empty bravado.
"You're right, Roger, it is none of my business what a former employee is up to. I bid you good day. Miss Randall, if you wish to remain in Lady Grantham's employ, you will accompany Mrs. Hughes, the children and I to the East Cemetery. I leave it to you to decide."
Mr. Carson came storming out of the catacombs. He marched right past Mrs. Hughes and the children and started walking. Mary took off after him, but Mrs. Hughes, Edith and Sybil remained rooted to the spot. They watched the catacombs with interest. They could hear the lovers arguing.
"We don't need them, love. I'll take care of you." He promised.
"I'm sorry, Roger, but I need this job." Miss Randall reminded him. "You can't take care of me."
"But I promise."
"Your promises are empty and we both know it."
Very shortly, Miss Randall emerged into the light. She was buttoning up the front of her dress. She looked defiantly at Mrs. Hughes, but burst into tears when she saw the sympathy in the older woman's eyes. She ran into Mrs. Hughes' arms and began to cry upon her shoulder.
Roger was right behind them. "Leave off, you old biddy." He fumed. "This is none of your affair."
"If you have any hope of retaining your position, Roger, I suggest you adopt a more penitent tone with me." Mrs. Hughes ordered, ignoring the insult he had hurled at her. "Go back to Downton at once. If you behave yourself, I may be able to persuade Mr. Carson not to sack you. At the very least, you may be able to salvage your character."
"Sod that. I'm tired of working in service. I'll make a go of it here in London. Come away with me, Daff." His earlier confidence had evaporated. "Please, love, believe in me."
Miss Randall was sobbing now and shaking her head. She'd only meant to have a bit of fun with Roger, but he'd convinced her that they were in love. Unfortunately, Roger was not the type of man one could depend upon or believe in. Faced with losing him or losing her job, Miss Randall found that she valued stability over sentimentality. It was a painful realization.
"I'm sorry, Roger." She repeated. "I'm so sorry."
"Go back to Downton, Roger." Elsie urged gently.
"Why don't you bugger off, you fat cow? This is none of your-" Roger's words were cut short as a great paw grabbed the front of his shirt.
Unseen by anyone, Mr. Carson and Mary had circled back to collect the others. "Do you have any insults for me, lad?" Mr. Carson held Roger's face dangerously close to his own. He snarled down at the simpering footman. "You seem generous enough with them when faced with a lady who is so far above you that you should be humbled just to be in her presence. Well? Do you have something to say to me?"
Roger shook his head. Even if he could find words, he would not have had the air with which to utter them. Mr. Carson's hands were at his throat, one holding the collar of his shirt and the other hand spread menacingly under his jaw, holding Roger up on tiptoes.
"Mr. Carson!" A chorus of concerned female voices rang out.
Elsie could not catalogue her feelings; she was experiencing so many at once. She was angry with Roger but she was terrified that Mr. Carson might do something foolish. She felt proud that he would defend her honor so vehemently. She was glad to hear him speak so highly of her, but most of all, she was aroused. She'd never seen Mr. Carson look more impressive. Usually, he kept his strength and power restrained. In his anger, he'd thrown propriety out the window and given way to his full passion. He was terrible and beautiful. Elsie had never desired him more in her life. Unwittingly, she gripped Miss Randall tighter.
"Set him down, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Hughes said quietly. "There's no harm done yet."
Carson relaxed his grip on Roger's throat and collar. "You're lucky we're on consecrated ground, lad. And you're lucky that you aren't worth the trouble."
He turned away from the gasping footman and faced the silent witnesses. Carson straightened his tie and adjusted his waistcoat. Like a flash of lightning, his anger was gone. He was the cool and collected butler once more. "My apologies, Ladies. I fear that I lost my temper. Shall we continue on to the East Cemetery?"
That was when Carson saw Lady Sybil cowering behind Mrs. Hughes who still held a weeping Miss Randall. Immediately, he felt terrible for scaring the girl. He knelt down and looked at her with remorseful eyes. "Did I frighten you, child?"
Sybil nodded, her hands full of Mrs. Hughes' skirt. Carson bowed his head in shame. How could he explain to this child the anger that had flowed through him upon hearing Roger insult Mrs. Hughes?
It was Lady Mary who came to his rescue. "A man must defend a lady's honor, Sybil. That is all Carson was doing." She assured her sister. Carson looked up at Mrs. Hughes and noticed how her face was flushed and vibrant. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mary spoke before he could. "Now, we should hurry over to the East Cemetery if we want to have time to pay our respects."
With that, the incident was forgotten. Mary took one of Carson's hands while Sybil took the other. Edith held Mrs. Hughes's hand as Miss Randall still clung to the housekeeper's side. They all turned their back on the flustered Roger and headed towards the gates of the West Cemetery.
TBC…
AN/ Please review if you've got the time.