Christmas Eve, 1924 (Right where we left off!)
He couldn't remember feeling so happy, at least not for a very, very long time. He was nearly bursting with it, and despite the fact that discretion was like breathing for him, he felt that he was wearing his joy on his sleeve, that anyone in that crowded hall would immediately be able to read his heart, and know that the remarkable woman standing by his side, hand in his, was now his, to have and to hold.
As he gazed at Lady Mary's serene, beautiful face, singing "O Holy Night" and felt Elsie's fingers twined with his, he wished time could stop in this very moment, at least briefly.
But, he couldn't, of course.
The side door he and Mrs. Hughes had come through not fifteen minutes prior popped open. Anna's face appeared, smiling, gesturing to them. Everything that had seemed gray about her these past few weeks was now golden. The lady's maid quickly shut the door once she knew she'd caught their attention. He knew there could only be one reason for it. He glanced down at Elsie, reluctantly dropping her hand.
She reached out and gave his a quick squeeze, before letting it go again. She may have winked at him, even, but he wasn't entirely sure.
"There's only one thing that could have Anna looking like that," she murmured to him.
"His lordship got the good word where it needed to go, in time for a very happy Christmas for the Bateses," he responded.
"Are we going to see Mr. Bates, then?" Suddenly Mrs. Patmore was at his other elbow.
"Where did you come from?" Elsie spluttered.
"I was standing right over yonder this whole time. I was the one who pointed Mr. Bates in Anna's direction," she shook her head at both of them. "You two would've seen him come in yerselves, but you both disappeared during the carols. Gone for a while, by my estimation." She raised her eyebrows at both of them, and they exchanged glances.
"Oh, thank god, it's about time," she grinned up at them, bustled ahead, surreptitiously opening the side door. "I'll expect an appropriate amount of details tomorrow during tea."
They paused, looked after her for a second. Then Elsie covered her open mouth, laughing.
"Nothing stays a secret for long, does it, Mr. Carson?"
"Not at Downton, it seems, Mrs. Hughes."
oooOOOooo
"Mr. Bates!" She exclaimed, rushing up to plant a kiss on his cheek. Anna was attached to her husband's side, his cane-free arm encircling her waist.
"Mrs. Hughes. Happy Christmas. It's good to be back," he grinned at her. "Mr. Carson, Mrs. Patmore."
"The prodigal returns," Charlie intoned, shaking the other man's hand, his face breaking into a broad smile. "And I sincerely hope it's for the last time."
"Never mind him," she interjected, smiling playfully up at her new fiancé, patting his arm. She found she hardly cared what, if anything, the other three would read into it. Mrs. Patmore already suspected, and the other two were utterly oblivious to anything except each other. "You must be tired and hungry after such a trip."
"And this is where I come in, I suppose," Mrs. Patmore. "Come now, both of you, I'll pack you a Christmas hamper to rival all Christmas hampers to take back to the cottage with you."
"But, Mrs. Hughes, I must stay. What about Lady Mary, and Lady Edith?" Even with her words, Anna didn't lessen her grip on Mr. Bates' arm.
"Don't you worry about that, I'll take care of Lady Mary myself, and Miss Baxter can help Lady Edith after taking care of her ladyship. She's practically self-sufficient, Lady Edith, modern woman of the world and all," she started shooing them away.
"You'll let them all know Mr. Bates is back, and we'll be here first thing in the morning?" Anna came over, briefly hugged Mrs. Hughes. "Thank you. For everything."
"Go on with you then. And as Mr. Carson says, let this be the last of the dramatic arrivals – and departures!"
She and Charlie stood side by side, watching the Bateses make their way to the kitchen and Mrs. Patmore's promised goodies. She was a shade closer to him than she might have been usually, but at all times aware that the door behind them could open at any moment.
"I do believe we've gotten more than our fair share of Christmas miracles this year," she glanced over at him. And was surprised to see he looked like a boy whose pudding had been taken away before he was finished.
"Why whatever is the matter, Mr. Carson?"
He looked at her for a long moment, sighed, glanced back at the door leading to the great hall, and then down towards the kitchen, where the others had disappeared. He moved towards her, and she was suddenly very aware of the size of him, this man who was now hers to call her own.
"Well, I suppose, while I am very glad that Mr. Bates returned, especially in time for Christmas, and especially for Anna's sake, he rather interrupted…the…celebration." He face was going quite red, and she could feel hers warming sympathetically.
"We're always interrupted, Mr. Carson. Can you imagine the number of conversations we've never finished over the years?" She took a deep breath, and stepped firmly into his space. Placed her hand once again on his arm.
"I've something for you, for Christmas. A gift. Once all of the…celebrating…has settled down, and I've gotten the ladies sorted out, and Mrs. Patmore's got Christmas breakfast lined up, and…." She trailed off, and started laughing. Historically, Christmas Eve was a late night that bled into early morning for many of the staff, especially the two of them. And now she was down a ladies' maid, if only for the evening.
She was glad to see a smile on his face, as well as a new, tender look that sent lovely shivers through her belly. "Yes, indeed, at this rate, we'll have a moment sometime in the new year, Mrs. Hughes, if we're lucky." He placed his hand over hers, and seemed loath to move. He sighed, continued. "I best find his lordship, tell him that Mr. Bates has returned."
"Aye, and I'll find Miss Baxter and the ladies," she added and the moment broke. They moved in unison back towards the door with the ease of years managing this house together.
Before he swung the door open, he frowned at her. "Mrs. Hughes, I've not gotten you a Christmas present, I'm ashamed to say."
She rolled her eyes at him, feeling exasperation and love in equal measure. "Ye daft, dear man. You gave me a house." She pushed the door open and they entered the busy, celebrating hall. "Ye also gave me a fiancé."
And with one last warm look, they parted ways, for the moment.
oooOOOooo
So it was, many busy hours later, she finally made her way back to the servants' hall for good. The glitter, the business and busyness of Christmas Eve, the children and their stockings, helping the ladies off to bed…well, she was tired, to her old bones, but she hardly cared. She felt like she was floating, really, and the tiredness was just another layer added to the hazy magic of the last twelve hours.
She passed the kitchen, hurrying her steps as much as her muddled self would allow, and Mrs. Patmore stepped out as she walked by. Her friend looked as dazed and tired as she felt.
"Well now, a Happy Christmas to us, then, Mrs. Patmore," she placed her hand on the other woman's shoulder.
"Is it still Christmas?" Mrs. Patmore exclaimed, and both women started giggling. Elsie was afraid she wouldn't stop, she was so giddy with excitement and nervousness and happiness and exhaustion. "Neither of the Bateses' are allowed to go to prison again and return in the middle of the night or a holiday, yeh hear?"
And Elsie gasped, doubled over. It wasn't the least bit funny, except it just was, all the more so because of the certainty she felt that John and Anna Bates were home for good. They were both wiping tears from their eyes when Elsie finally felt she could speak again.
"I can hardly believe Mr. Carson isn't out here shushing us," she said, his name causing her heart to flutter a bit.
"He's asleep," Mrs. Patmore whispered, as if it would make any difference.
Elsie felt as if she'd been slapped. He'd not waited for her before retiring? Even just to say goodnight before they parted ways until the morning? What about his gift? "He went up to bed?"
Mrs. Patmore looked like she was going to start laughing again. "Don't go lookin' like ye've been skewered through the heart, yeh ninny. He fell asleep in his chair, in his study. A'waitin' for you is all one can assume."
"Well then," her annoyance melted quickly into fond tenderness. "I don't suppose we should wake him?"
"I'm certainly not," Mrs. Patmore retorted. "I am taking myself up to bed, catching forty winks, splashing cold water on my face, preparing the family an obscenely extravagant breakfast, then coming to your office where you'll tell me the whole story if I have to pry it out of you, word by word."
Elsie paused, then started giggling again herself. "Alright then. You'll never get the whole story, mind you, but you might get enough of it to be satisfied."
"And what you do in the meanwhile, is for naught but the mice to know. Happy Christmas, Mrs. Hughes," with a laugh and a wave, she was gone.
She smiled to herself, and went over to his study. The door was very slightly ajar, as if he wanted some privacy, but not to miss her returning downstairs.
He was deeply asleep in his chair, his long legs stuck out in front of him, his hands crossed over his chest. She gazed down at his sleeping face, realizing with a start she'd be seeing it nightly soon enough. The intimacy of the idea terrified her, but it was mixed with a level of tenderness she didn't think was possible.
She would see him tomorrow – rather, later today – and maybe they would be able to fit in an interrupted conversation or two, she could give him her gift. The Bateses' return would add another level of revelry to the Christmas festivities. She knew it would be a good day, because she would share as much of it with him as she could.
But for now, she must go.
And only because she knew he was deeply asleep, and the hallways were empty, and it was only her, Elsie Hughes, newly betrothed to the big, slumbering, infuriating, wonderful man before her, she reached out and brushed her thumb across his temple. Leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead, breathing in the spicy, masculine sleepiness of him.
"Happy Christmas, Charlie," she barely spoke, and it was like a blessing. And then she was gone.