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Chapter 10
Home straight
Mrs. Hughes watched over her sister. Ann had finally fallen asleep despite the cough attacks. For days she had been burning hot with fever and hardly knew what was going on around her. Mrs. Hughes had to stay with her every second, had had no time to write to Carson. She had a headache and tried to rest her eyes for a while. The medicine didn't help. Doctor Blake had tried everything possible and Gordon had lost hope that his wife would recover. He had cried his eyes out twice, thinking that Mrs. Hughes didn't see it. But she had seen it and tried to give him his hope back without success. As long as Ann felt so terrible, hope would keep fading. All of a sudden Ann opened her eyes and started coughing immediately. Her chest clenched, her hands gripped the blanket and threw it off. Mrs. Hughes jumped off the armchair. "Ann!" Her sister couldn't hear her. She struggled to get some air. Mrs. Hughes opened the window. When she turned back around, Ann had started to cough blood. "Oh god", Mrs. Hughes breathed. She had cared for so many people when they were ill, but this was too much. "Gordon! Gordon!" She ran towards the door and ripped it open. "Gordon!", she shouted. He blustered upstairs and stopped in front of her. "Elsie, what is it?"
"Go and get the doctor!"
He stared at Ann. "My god."
"Gordon, now!"
He blinked a few times, then nodded and ran for the doctor. Mrs. Hughes hurried back to the bed. She took Ann's hand helplessly. She needed Carson, even if there was nothing he could have done for Ann, at least he would give herself some strength. Her sister was fighting to get some air, her eyes wide open. She cramped and started to shake violently. Just then the doctor stormed into the room. He was only half dressed, his hair was a mess. "Do something", she pleaded, but his shoulders slumped down and he shook his head. Gordon went on his knees next to the bed. "Ann, darling", he whispered.
"I can't do anything", Doctor Blake murmured.
"What do you mean?", Mrs. Hughes shouted.
"I'm sorry", he said. "I'm so sorry."
Gordon had grabbed his wife's hand. Tears were forming in his eyes. All three of them were doomed to watch her fight for her life. And then silence took over the room. Ann was staring at the ceiling. She had gone pale as a sheet. Her body had stilled entirely. Doctor Blake slowly moved towards her and pressed his finger against the side of her neck. His hand twitched back. He shook his head. "She is gone."
Mrs. Hughes sank back on the armchair. She stared at her sister. The doctor closed her eyes. Mrs. Hughes watched as peace waved over Ann's face. The worry that had pained the housekeeper physically had vanished, was replaced by emptiness. Gordon had buried his face at Ann's side and was sobbing. Doctor Blake tried to comfort him. He had put his hand on Gordon's shoulder. Mrs. Hughes felt the hot tears escaping her eyes. She had hoped to save her sister. It hadn't worked. All that was left to do was mourning and carrying on afterwards. She got up and kneeled next to her brother-in-law. The doctor stepped back and decided to leave to give them some privacy. She put her arms around Gordon and rested her head on his shoulder. She had no idea how he would go on, but she would be there to help him.
Carson almost ran over the postman when he arrived. The butler had been late this morning and worried that he would miss the chance to accept the letters himself. The last days of autumn had passed and the air was now very chilly. His breath rose as a cloud of mist from his face while he checked the letters. His hope faded when he had scanned the pack for the second time. There was none from Mrs. Hughes – again. She hadn't written in almost two weeks. That was very unlike her and he worried himself sick. Wasn't it enough that she probably couldn't be home at Christmas? Now he even didn't know what was going on a week before the twenty-fifth of December. He leaned back against the cold wall and closed his eyes. So many what ifs rushed through his mind that they caused a headache of phenomenal dimension.
"I knew you'd be out here." The cook was standing in front of him. "Any news?"
He shook his head. "Not a word."
"If something had happened to her, we would know by now. I think her sister got worse and she can't find the time to write."
"That probably is the explanation, but it doesn't make me feel better", he grumbled.
"Be patient, Charles."
"I can't! I need to know what's wrong. And I need to know now." He started pacing around in the yard. What if she needed his help? His backup as she called it. What should he do? How could he support her if she was so far away? He stopped and looked at Mrs. Patmore who watched him worriedly. "I have to go to Scotland."
"Excuse me?"
"I have to make sure she's all right", he explained.
"Charles, slow down a second. How will you manage? It's almost Christmas. They won't let you go."
"I'll be back in time", he assured her. "I can be back in two days."
Mrs. Patmore looked at him pensively. "Giving it a try won't do any harm, I suppose."
He nodded. "I'll speak to his lordship before dinner", he decided. "You will take care of everything while I'm away, won't you?"
"Only on condition you bring back Mrs. Hughes."
"Agreed", he said. "Then let's get back to work." He held the door open for the cook. She returned to the kitchen and he retreated to his pantry. With a sigh he sat down at his desk. He had made his decision, now if not on his last half day when he went to Ripon. Carson opened his top drawer and took out the small box he had bought then. The ring was silver, shining in the dim light that fell through the window. A small emerald was placed in it. The green colour fitted Mrs. Hughes' dark blue eyes. When he had bought it he hadn't known when he would give it to her. Now he knew. As soon as he knew how she was and things were sorted out he would ask her to become his wife. From there on they could decide together how to move on.
Until dinner time he paced around nervously, avoiding everyone. When it was time to announce that dinner was served he had already planned every word he would say to his lordship. He entered the library and was surprised to see that his lordship and Lady Mary were sitting on the settee.
"Carson, we'll be there in a moment", Lord Grantham said.
"Yes, milord, but I was wondering if I might have a word first." He could see that his words had awakened curiosity.
"But of course", Lady Mary said.
He nodded gratefully. "I'm afraid you won't approve of my request." Lord Grantham raised his eyebrows in surprise, but let the butler continue. "As you know, Mrs. Hughes is in Scotland to help her sister."
"I hope she isn't worse", Lady Mary said.
"No… that is, I don't know. I haven't had a word from her in about two weeks. I'm worried that something is wrong."
"I suppose there is nothing more you can do than wait, is there?", Lord Grantham asked, not yet seeing the butler's point.
"If you have no objection, I'd like to go there myself and check on her."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I would like to take two days off and check on Mrs. Hughes, milord", Carson explained again.
"Carson, I do believe that…", Lord Grantham began, but was cut short by Lady Mary.
"I think Carson should go. Mrs. Hughes is very dear to this family and Downton is not the same without her. Isn't it our duty to send someone to make sure she is all right, papa?"
"Well, yes, but…", he stuttered.
"Good. Carson will go then and in his absence Barrow takes over. I think we can manage." Lady Mary smiled warmly at Carson who hid a grin. "Thank you, milady."
Lord Grantham sighed. "Very well, Carson, go. I expect you to be back in two days preferably with Mrs. Hughes if possible."
"I'll do my very best, milord", he replied.
The funeral had been a week ago. Gordon and Mrs. Hughes were standing in front of the fresh grave and still struggled to understand that Ann was gone.
"I don't know what to do without her", he said quietly.
"I'm at your side if you need me", Mrs. Hughes whispered.
"Thank you, Elsie." He smiled weakly. Silence. "I'll go to the pub", he decided.
She nodded. "I'll stay a little longer." She watched him leave, shoulders slumped down. "Gordon, don't get drunk", she called after him. He turned around. "I'm sorry, Elsie, but I have to forget all this for a few hours."
She understood and let him be. Mrs. Hughes turned back to the grave. In spring it would be covered in flowers which Ann had loved so much. She already felt guilty, knowing that she couldn't visit her sister often in the future. "I'll try to keep an eye on Gordon, Ann. I promise." Tears fell. She put her hands around her body and looked up in the grey sky. It would rain soon. The air was cold. And now that her sister was gone she had no choice but to return to Downton.
"Elsie?"
She froze. It had been his voice. But that was impossible. She felt his presence. He was standing behind her. His smell filled her senses. Slowly she turned around. Carson was indeed there, carrying a small suitcase. He was wearing dark clothes as if he had suspected that she would be standing at her sister's grave. He took of his hat.
"Charles, what are you doing here?", she said.
"I had no word from you in two weeks. I was worrying myself sick." He took a look at the grave. "I'm so sorry, Elsie."
A sob escaped her mouth. "I really thought she could get better."
"Elsie, my dear sweet Elsie", he said and wrapped her up in his arms. She cried and he kissed her hair and whispered comforting nonsense. He would hold her for hours if necessary. At least she was safe. Slowly the sobs stopped and Mrs. Hughes looked at him. "How did you come here?"
"By train", he answered, trying to cheer her up a little.
"Daft man, I mean how did you manage to get away from Downton?"
"I simply asked and had some help from Lady Mary. She insisted in front of his lordship that I should go, arguing that it were the family's duty to send someone to see if you are alright."
Mrs. Hughes smiled weakly. It felt good to know that she was supported at Downton, downstairs and upstairs. "I wished you could have met her", she said taking another look at the grave. "She always suspected that there was more between us than you and I would admit."
"How did she know?", Carson asked astonished.
"She read between the lines of my letters. There is not much you can hide from your older sister."
"She must have been quite a character." Carson offered her his arm and made sure she walked closely to him. "Where is your brother-in-law?"
"He went to the pub to get drunk."
"Are you sure we should let him do that?", he asked worriedly.
"Yes, since I have no real objection of doing just that myself."
"I think tea and some rest could help as good as?", he suggested carefully.
"When do you have to be back at Downton?", she asked.
"Tomorrow evening. I guess you'd like to stay a little longer."
She shook her head. "I have been gone long enough and I don't want to miss Christmas. Ann always loved this time of the year. She would want it to be celebrated despite her death."
"And Gordon? We could invite him, you know. There are some empty rooms in the attics. He wouldn't be alone."
Mrs. Hughes stopped. "Are you serious?" She searched his eyes only to find that he really meant it and not only offered it out of politeness. "Charles, if he could stay with us on Christmas that would be marvellous."
"Shall we ask him tomorrow then?"
Mrs. Hughes hugged him tightly. "You are wonderful", she whispered in his ear. He eased her pain and gave her so much strength. He smiled tenderly at her. "Thank you."
When they arrived at the cottage, Mrs. Hughes made them some tea. They sat in comfortable silence, sipping tea and being happy that they were reunited. Gordon came home earlier than expected. They only got a short glance of him. He was slightly nutating and walked upstairs where he disappeared in the bedroom. Which made Mrs. Hughes asking herself where Carson would sleep. She didn't feel comfortable with placing him on the settee. He would get no rest on the thing. He was far too tall. Gordon himself had only managed to sleep because of the lack of rest he had had. And surely she couldn't offer him to sleep in her room. But the longer she thought about it, the more she liked the thought of falling asleep in his arms and waking up exactly there. She placed her cup on the table and turned towards him. "You will stay here tonight", she said.
He nodded. "The settee will do." He sounded not at all convinced, but smiled at her.
"You don't have to sleep on the settee, you know", she mumbled, suddenly finding her shoes very interesting.
His enormous eyebrows shot up and almost reached his hair line. Surely she wasn't offering what he thought she was. "Pardon?"
"You could sleep in the guest room."
"In which case you would sleep where exactly?", he asked, pretending he hadn't understood what she was trying to say.
"We would only share the same bed", she tried again, biting her bottom lip. She partly regretted having made this offer. It gave him some reason to start a fight.
"Elsie, we are not married", he pointed out. She was rather surprised that he didn't call it improper.
"We are old enough to manage sleeping next to each other, aren't we?" She could have slapped herself. Why was she going on and on?
"I'm most certainly not old", he replied. He looked like a school boy who had just been scolded for stealing the neighbour's cherries.
She couldn't help, but giggle. "Are you saying you are still young?"
"No", he admitted and let out a sigh. "I guess I am old."
"See, wasn't too difficult accepting that, was it?", she teased.
"I'm just asking myself when all the time passed."
"That's what a busy life does to you, Charles. It makes you forget that it ends one day." Her happy mood had vanished. She had to think of her sister again. She had had a busy life, running the shop with her husband. Had she ever thought about her age? Probably not. She had used to be a happy person and thoughts of death had no place in her mind. Somehow Mrs. Hughes still knew that her sister had known she would die and if she had been afraid she hadn't said so. For her sake Mrs. Hughes hoped that she hadn't been afraid. It made things look less dark.
Carson saw the sadness in her eyes and knew what she was thinking about. "All right, I give in", he said gently, putting one arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him. "Thank you, Charles."
In the evening, after Mrs. Hughes had found out that Carson wasn't too bad a cook, she got ready for bed. He was changing in the bathroom. She checked her appearance in the mirror. Her white night gown was pronouncing every curve of her body; her hair fell in long strains over her shoulder. He had never seen her like this and she was a little nervous to how he would react. She crawled under the blanket and made herself comfortable. He entered minutes later. His hair was already a little messy. She liked it better like this. He was wearing a pair of striped pyjamas. She had seen him quite often like this.
He couldn't help but stare at her. In all their years together he hadn't seen her with her hair down or with less than her dressing gown on.
"Do you want to stand there all night?", she asked.
He shook his head and climbed into bed. It felt both familiar and strange to lie next to her. She cuddled up against him. She was warm and fitted perfectly in his arms. He could get used to this. Soon he felt her relax at his side. He listened to her steady breathing and fell asleep himself.
The sun woke her. She blinked a few times. Carson was snoring softly next to her. He looked happy, probably dreamt about something positive. She watched him a few minutes, before the smell of bacon, eggs and toast reached her nose. Carefully and quietly she left bed, put her hair up with a few pins and grabbed her dressing gown. Gordon was in the kitchen and had prepared a lovely breakfast. "Good morning", he greeted her. He was still pale, but looked much better.
"Good morning", Mrs. Hughes responded.
"Isn't Mr. Carson coming down?", Gordon asked.
"Well, I let him sleep. How do you know…?", she said irritated.
"Lucky guess. Tall, grumpy face, close to you. There weren't many options."
She blushed. "I'll wake him up in a moment." She stopped in the door way. "How are you?"
"I have a headache", he admitted.
"You know what I really mean."
"I am better, a little at least. It still hurts, but Ann was the happiest person I knew. She wouldn't want me to walk around like a ghost, so I try not to."
"It's the best we can do", she agreed. "I'll go and get Charles."
Carson was still sleeping. She kissed his cheek to wake him gently. He sighed and his eyes flew open. A broad smile spread over his lips. "Good morning", he whispered.
"Morning. Breakfast is ready and it's about time that you meet Gordon."
He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I'll go and get dressed." He kissed her forehead and got up. He picked up his suit. When he was properly dressed, he checked his waistcoat pocket. The small box with the ring was still there. He took in a deep breath and then went downstairs. Gordon and Mrs. Hughes were already seated at the table and waiting for him, but when he entered Gordon got up.
"Mr. Carson, pleased to meet you."
Carson shook Gordon's hand. "I wish we would have met under less tragic circumstances. I'm sorry about your loss."
"Thank you. Please, sit down and enjoy breakfast."
Carson was more than happy to accept the invitation. He was quite hungry. They were sipping their last drops of tea when Mrs. Hughes felt it was the right moment to ask Gordon about Christmas. "Gordon, Charles and I thought about Christmas. Ann always loved it. And it isn't nice to be alone that time of the year. We would be very happy if you'd join us at Downton."
"Do you mean it? I would love to come. But what about your employers?"
"Leave that to us, Mr. Wilson", Carson assured him.
"I look forward to it", Gordon said happily. Mrs. Hughes couldn't put in words how relieved she was to see Gordon's mood jump high. It was almost noon when she and Carson were on a walk through the village. He had told her about everything that had happened at Downton. She soon was up to date. After a few moments of silence, Carson stopped abruptly.
"Charles?", Mrs. Hughes asked surprised. "What is it?"
He hesitated for a moment. The fear to not succeed was huge, but hadn't he just last evening been alluded to the fact that he was old? "Elsie, this is probably the worst timing I have ever had. This is the wrong place, the wrong time and absolutely not the way you deserve it, but it's unlikely that I'll get another chance soon." He swallowed hard. "I had a lot of time to think while you were away. I missed you terribly. And it made me realize just how much I depend on you. Not only at work, but in everything. I have no idea what the future holds and how we'll handle things, but I know that somehow we will manage as we always have." He slowly went down on one knee, to spare his back the cracking. His hand was shaking when he got out the ring and held it in front of him. His eyes met hers. She seemed absolutely gobsmacked. "I love you, Elsie Hughes. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
She stared at him. Was this real? She couldn't say. The past twenty years came down to this moment all of a sudden. He had made his feelings clear to her after the London season, but he had never used these three words. A gentle breeze waved over them. To Mrs. Hughes it felt like a sign, a gentle knock in the right direction send to her by her sister. She became aware of the fact that she had been silent for a good two minutes. Carson's racing heart beat spoke through his eyes. What impression her silence must have on him. "Charles, I love you too and this really isn't the best moment, but somehow it took two decades to happen at all, so I couldn't care less. And my answer is yes. Always yes."
These moments Mrs. Hughes had stared at him without saying a word had almost killed him, but now he placed the ring on her finger and was allowed to stand up. He was so happy, he thought he would explode. He had shaken off each and every layer of his position and now finally was transformed back into Charles. "May I kiss you?", he asked. "Properly?"
She smiled broadly at him and nodded. "You may."
Nervously he placed one hand on her waist and caressed her cheek with the other. He pulled her close, lowered his face down to hers until their breaths were entangled. Their lips met softly. It was a short kiss and they only pulled back a few inches. "I can do better than that", he whispered and kissed her again. And everything they had held back until this moment sputtered out of them and send them far ahead on their path.
I know that this really is not the best way of writing a Chelsie-proposal, but I didn't want to write about mourning. The slow-burn has been slow enough and I thought a huge jump would do this story some good. There is still a lot ahead, starting with Christmas. I hope you are still with me after this one. :)
