My in ability to update actually upsets me, I hate rl so much and I hate that I can come up with ideas for new stories but not updates so I'm left with 8 stories to update :'(
Chapter dedicated to phantomess001 for spell checking ;) and vanillapod for reading and having a toddler tantrum, saying "no, no end there – write more!" I love you both ;)

xXx

It was difficult to keep the rumours from upstairs, they would normally discuss almost everything with the family but Carson fought to keep the gossip away. Mr Bates was new to the story so he knew he had his silence but O'Brien was a different matter, she wouldn't care one fig about whether the story got out, or what happened to Elsie for that matter.
She was a careful woman, letting everyone play into her hands, she told the younger staff to scare them but would she tell her Ladyship? He couldn't tell.

Elsie worked in silence, avoided making decisions and stayed close to another member of staff and out of her sitting room. He felt awful that her sitting room, the place she could escape to, was now a source of fear, and panic.

He had spoken to Beryl, told her of his worried, subtlety manipulating her into telling him what Elsie spoke to her about as she lingered in the kitchens searching for a reason to stay. She had very little to tell him other than she'd offered to let Elsie sleep in her room – which she had plainly declined.

Even in fear she was stubborn.

At least she was letting him in, not fully but enough to inform them she was scared.
He couldn't blame her, he was scared for her, he wanted to throw propriety and take away all her pain and suffering.
But he knew he couldn't, he could acknowledge that his housekeeper was in distress, but he could certainly not keep her with him all the time, he had that right to be concerned, but not the right to take care of her.

And it killed him.

It was evening; the clouds blanketed the succumbing Downton to the shadows of the night. He'd sent the staff to bed and minutes later bid goodnight to Beryl, she'd stopped besides the stairs and laid a hand on his arm, nodding towards Elsie's sitting room, a dim light still spilling from underneath the door.

"Go to her, make her talk to you Mr Carson, I'll not have any harm come to her. And I know you won't either."

He'd nodded sadly and she let of go of him, she and Elsie had only become close recently, but he'd always seen her as a sister to him.
She'd gone up the stairs and he waited until he could no longer see that faint light from her lamp.

Her sitting room was cold, well freezing. The fire was down to its last embers; the electric lights were off, the only light being produced by a few candles on her desk.

She was leant over her desk, her pen poised over her ledger, her head bowed low but her back perfectly straight – her position frightened him.
He spoke her name softly, approaching the desk he noticed the tear stains on the ledger; he placed a cautious hand on her shoulder. She startled instantly, shielding her face with her hand.
She was so vulnerable it broke his heart.

"Elsie it's me." His deep voice didn't allow him to whisper, but he spoke as softly as he possibly could.
Slowly she lowered her hand but her caught it in his, turning it to inspect the faint blood stain on her palm.

"Elsie?!" What happened?!" His thumb caressed the wound.

She exhaled a shaky breath, closing her eyes briefly at his gentle touch.
"My vase, it fell, off the mantelpiece."

She screwed her eyes up trying to stop the tears threatening to fall. Normally the breaking of a vase wouldn't cause her such emotion but he knew what was going through her mind. It was the spirit, the ghost, the phantom, following her, tormenting her.
He reached for her other hand and pulled her out of the chair and into his arms.
She relaxed into his arms almost instantly, her arms shyly reaching around his waist.

"Let me in Elsie, please, let me help you."

He felt her shake her head, sniffing.

"Why not?"

"You can't, it's not allowed."

Confused, he took her hand and spoke sincerely;

"Of course it's allowed, no one can tell me I can't help a friend in need."

She sniffed again; "But that's all I am to you," she mumbled, "that's all I'll ever be."

Realisation of her words dawned on him, he lifted her chin up to look at him – unshed tears still pooling in her eyes.

"You want to be more?" He dared to whisper.

"All this, made me think, if this is the end… I don't, want to be alone." Thinking of her possible death caused the tears to fall so he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Shhh, Elsie don't cry," she only wrapped her arms tighter around him, burying her face in his chest.

"I feel… so, alone." She sobbed out, digging her nails into his jacket.

His heart broke ever further at her confession, she wasn't alone, she never would be, he would never leave her, not now, not ever! Why couldn't she see it?

"You're not alone Elsie, I won't let you be."

She acknowledged his words and gazed up through her eye lashes.

He continued; "While I'm here you'll never be alone."

For the first time in weeks she gave him a genuine smile, gently resting her cheek against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
He moved his arms to envelop her tiny frame in his, one arm around her shoulders, one around her waist, letting her know she was safe with him.

"I'll protect you Elsie, I promise you that." He laid his cheek on her hair, sighing.

How long they stood there he couldn't say, he would stand there forever if she needed him to, years of standing to attention in dining rooms taught him to be on his feet for a long time.

He'd felt the tension leave her body long ago, her breathing had calmed down and her grip slackened. He wondered for a moment if she'd fallen asleep laughing to himself at the idea.

She looked up smiling slightly,

"What is it?"

"I'm just glad to finally have you in my arms – despite the situation."

She smiled brightly, "I'm glad to be in them, finally."

They laughed in union and he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"You've made me forget my fears," she stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek, "thank you Charles."

She returned to her normal height, "I should probably go to bed."

He noted the disappointment in her voice and kept hold of her hand as he opened the door for her. She'd waited for him to shut it, but as he started to go her noticed she'd stayed rooted to the spot frantically looking around her, her erratic breathing returning.

He walked back to her, clasping both her hands in his;

"I said you wouldn't be alone and you won't. Tonight, you will sleep in my room." He held a hand to silence her protests, "no, you will. It'll make me happier to know you're safe and actually getting a good night's sleep." She stopped protesting but looked sceptical. "I will sleep in my armchair don't worry. I just want you to be safe."

Her eyes crinkled with the sentiment and she squeezed his hand.

"I've never felt safer."

They began to ascend that stairs together, keeping close, hand in hand - stopping dead as a ring of the bell board pierced the silence.

Please review :) Your feedback means a lot to me.

xXx