Indignation was a word that did not even seem to begin to cover it. She was fuming. Boiling. So enraged she could not even see clearly. Her first thought had been to find O'Brien and ask her what exactly had happened, because somehow she was sure she had had something to do with Mr Bates' fall. Had she pushed him? Tripped him somehow?
She must have.
She had seen Mr Bates walk, she had noticed his limp accentuated when it was late and he was tired, she had even seen him stumble that time he had put too much weight on his bad leg. But it had never occurred to her the possibility of him just falling on the ground, flat on his face, with no apparent reason.
She had tried to replay the scene on her mind. The arriving of the Duke. His choosing of Thomas as his valet. How smug the footman had looked. And then, inexplicably, Mr Bates falling. They all had gone away, as if he would embarrass them all if they tried to help him. As if he had already done so. Anna had not seen Mr Carson's expression right afterwards, but she could very well picture it. Ashamed. Feeling as if the word would crumble into pieces because one of the men on his charge had gone through the indignity of falling on the ground.
Anna had waited a moment; she had actually hoped somebody would stay behind with her in order to help Mr Bates. He had been practically on his feet by the time she had reached for his hand, and then he had almost snapped at her.
"Please, don't feel sorry for me."
She had felt hurt by his words, and yet she had understood his humiliation all the same.
It was not fair. Not fair at all.
And now the news were running through the servant's hall and corridors, through the kitchen and the offices, in whispers that did not even tried to disguise the enjoyment that only gossip could bring.
"I heard his Lordship himself is going to tell him. He would not even tell Mr Carson to do it!"
"So it must have been serious."
"Don't be silly. He's done it because they were chums during the war."
"Poor Mr Bates."
"He had it coming. There was no use of him staying if he could not work properly."
"I said I wouldn't mind the extra work. He's nice."
"You're stupid, then."
Anna could not take it anymore. She wished to go upstairs, where Mr Bates was probably now, and try to talk to him. And yet, she had no idea of what to say; his last words to her still stung a bit.
So, she did the only sensible thing she could: work. Unnecessarily, she passed through the unoccupied bedrooms, checking that everything was in place; she looked for stains in spare sheets, and tears on winter gowns even if the girls would not need them for months; she checked all shoes and boots she could get her hands on. By the time the first gong rung, she sighed almost relieved and headed to Lady Sybil's room, wishing that the gossip would not have reached the girls' yet, because then she would not be able to avoid it.
She did not need to fear. The presence of a suitor for Mary, and a Duke at that, was more than enough to make them all forget about a crippled valet that had just been sacked.
By the time she was dismissed from Lady Mary's bedroom, her emotions had shifted. She was angry, yes, but it had nothing to do with that hot rage of earlier. For a wild moment she had considered talking to Lord Grantham, but she knew it was not her place to do so. She very much suspected Mr Bates would not like that idea at all, considering that she could be risking her job as well. They had lost. And she was so very disappointed.
And there was also this sadness, an emptiness of sorts, the feeling of a lost opportunity. She had been sure there were plenty of things she and Mr Bates could have shared. Conversations, interests, maybe even quiet laughter. Now there will be nothing of the sort and Anna very much suspected that whoever occupied his place in the future, would not be half as interesting as he had proven to be during that short time they had shared.
Climbing down the stairs she decided she could not stand the on-going gossip, or Mr Carson's airs of having done the right thing. Not even Mrs Hughes preoccupied glances. She would go upstairs and talk to him. If he wanted to be alone, Anna was confident she would notice the dismissal. It was worth the try, because she could not stand the thought of the limp valet sitting in his room with only his dark thoughts as company.
AN: Very special thanks to Eva, Isis the Dog and the other Guest reviewers (I did take it as a compliment, Eva!). All of you are fantastic! Thanks for reading!
