Chapter 2

When Mr Carson awoke the next morning, his first thoughts were that he was warm and comfortable and… not alone. He could feel the weight of someone lying next to him, their arm across his chest. Slowly he tried to move, but he was too weak. He found the strength to open his eyes and soon the room came into focus.

He was in the Blue Room! He recognised it instantly. He knew every room in this house; that was part of his job. The thought that he, a mere servant, should be sleeping in one of the guest rooms was abhorrent to him for a moment, but then he remembered how he'd taken ill. He didn't know why or how he came to be in this bed, but his fogginess cleared enough for him to realise it must be as a result of that.

He found the strength to wiggle his toes and flex his fingers and as he did so, became aware of another's hand on top of his. He shifted his gaze downwards and was surprised to see a very familiar hand. Mrs Hughes. He couldn't think why she could possibly be lying next to him, but the more aware of it he became, the more he found himself enjoying her presence.

The sounds of people moving about outside the door alerted him to the fact that some of the staff were up and about; no doubt setting up for breakfast. As much as he would have preferred to lie with Mrs Hughes for longer he could not risk her being found like this; she had an unsullied reputation and he wished it to remain so. Neither did he wish her to know he was aware of her actions, not yet. He would tell her at some point, but at the moment he didn't really feel up to dealing with the fallout, whether that be positive or negative.

He closed his eyes once more, feigning sleep, and then shifted on the bed with a groan. It did the trick; Mrs Hughes woke suddenly and hearing voices outside the room, sat back in her chair, pinned back her hair and picked up a book… seconds before there was a knock at the door.

Anna entered. "Doctor Clarkson is here; he'll be up in a moment. He's with her Ladyship just now."

"How is she?"

"She's not out of the woods yet, but she made it through the night, that's something."

Mrs Hughes nodded gravely and Anna took her leave. Checking once more on Mr Carson, she was relieved to find his temperature felt as if it were within a more acceptable range. Thank goodness!

At the feel of her hand Mr Carson cold keep up the pretence of sleep no more. He opened his eyes.

"Mr Carson," she cried, joy filling her at the sight of him awake.

"Mrs Hughes," he replied, his voice hoarse. She helped him to sit up a little, against his protest that he could manage by himself, and poured him a glass of water.

"This should help," she told him, handing him the glass.

"Thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired, a little confused. "

"That's to be expected. Doctor Clarkson will be up to check on you in a few moments."

"I… this is a little delicate but… the sheets seem… damp." He looked away, embarrassed that the thought that his body may have betrayed him during his illness.

"That'll be the ice. We packed you with it to try and bring down your temperature. You didn't like it, I can tell you; tried to throw the stuff off several times. No doubt it's melted now."

He was relieved to have kept his dignity to some degree, and was beginning to understand why he had woken to find Mrs Hughes sharing his bed. She must have been trying to keep the ice in place. "How… how did I end up in here?" he asked

So Mrs Hughes filled him in on the events of the past day, leaving out the part of her joining him in bed, assuring herself that he didn't need to know the lengths she had gone to. He was concerned for Lady Grantham and the other two maids who had fallen ill, but she assured him they were being taken care of, just as he was.

"Have you been here all night?" he asked, despite already having deep suspicions.

She blushed, and then cursed herself for it; she wasn't a school girl. "You needed someone to take care of you and well… I didn't feel comfortable ordering any of the maids or footman. You were in quite a bad way, Mr Carson, I… I didn't think you would wish them to see you like that." There was more to it than that, of course, but she didn't think she was ready to reveal that to him just yet.

"No, I think I probably wouldn't," he agreed.

Their conversation was interrupted then by the arrival of Doctor Clarkson, and Mrs Hughes excused herself to see Mrs Patmore about food for herself and Mr Carson.

The doctor examined him thoroughly, checking his chest, his pulse and his fever.

"You are much improved since I last saw you," Doctor Clarkson informed him. "Mrs Hughes would appear to be an excellent nurse."

"It would seem so," Mr Clarkson agreed, not wanting to give too much away.

"You need to rest though; I don't want you returning to work for at least a week."

"The house won't run itself!"

"No, but they'll manage. If you don't heed my advice Mr Carson, you may have a relapse, and that could be worse than this current episode." Mr Carson looked like he was going to argue but Doctor Clarkson cut him off. "Can you be trusted to rest by yourself or do I need to inform Mrs Hughes of my advice? I'm sure, given her diligence through the night, that she will ensure you do as I have said."

"That will not be necessary Doctor. I will... adhere to your recommendations; although I doubt it will be easy."

They both turned as the door opened. "Ah, Mrs Hughes. We were just discussing your potential as a nurse," Doctor Clarkson told her.

She placed the breakfast tray she was carrying on the cabinet and turned to the Doctor. "I think I'm a little too old to be contemplating a career change, Doctor Clarkson, but I thank you for the praise. I'm just glad Mr Carson seems to be over the worst."

"I'll leave some medicine and dosage instructions; will you be able to administer it?"

"Of course."

Doctor Clarkson excused himself and Mrs Hughes transferred the tray to Mr Carson's bed. "You should eat, if you feel up to it?"

"Perhaps I will try a piece of toast." Mrs Hughes buttered him a slice and handed it to him. He took a small bite before allowing himself to address the business of the house. "It appears I may be out of action for a few days, will you be able to manage the house?"

"I will be fine; I can always come and bother you if I need to." He brightened a bit at the thought and she noticed. "As long as you don't overdo it."

"There is the wedding to think about and-"

Mrs Hughes cut him off. "I'm afraid Miss Swire has been taken ill too; I fear the wedding will have to be postponed now."

Whilst they continued eating, they discussed the possible implications for postponing the wedding and, when they'd exhausted that topic, their conversation turned to the weather; how mild it was for this time of year . He finished before her and she was halfway through her cup of tea when she noticed him stifle a yawn. Replacing her cup on the tray, she fell back into her role as nurse. "Time for you to get some rest I think."

He didn't particularly want to go to sleep; wanting instead to continue their conversation, but he admitted that he did feel weary. He lowered himself back onto the pillows.

"Close your eyes and I'll come back and check on you in a few hours."

"Mmm," he mumbled sleepily.

When Mrs Hughes was certain he was sound asleep, she leaned forward, brushed his hair of his forehead and placed a chaste kiss upon it before leaving to get on with her day.