Elsie sailed into the Blue Bedroom at the young maid's curse, her scowl turning to surprise to find her lying on the carpet, one hand caught in the undercarriage of the new electric carpet sweeper, "Lucy!" "Something's stuck," the girl grunted, "Got it!" Turning the torn fabric to & fro and finally checking inside what turned out to be a pair of men's undershorts, she tried to decipher the laundry markings, "Lord Merton was the last to stay here but these spell out, C-A-R-..." What happens next?
I do not own them. If I did, they would already be married by now.
"Lucy, get up this instant," Elsie Hughes demanded. She stood imperiously above the young housemaid with her hands firmly clasped in front of her. Mrs. Hughes eyes tightened flashing blue fire as her voice sharpened, brogue thickening, which was something only reserved for angry outbursts and fits of passion with a certain butler. Though she hated it, she felt the Scottish Dragon rising inside her. "What might I ask are you doing? And the language I heard from the hall would make a sailor blush." Not that I haven't used a few choice words myself over the years, she thought.
The pretty, young maid stood to her feet with the offending garment in hand. Her cheeks reddened almost matching the color of her hair. She stood small, both literally and figuratively, in the shadow of her superior. Lucy hung her head and stared a hole in the luxurious carpet; she dared not look Mrs. Hughes in the eye. Lucy Donnelly had only been at Downton four months coming from a small house nearby. She needed the job and the extra pay that came with it. She could not afford to be dismissed and been on the receiving end of Mrs. Hughes ire on more than one occasion. Lucy had heard tale of the Housekeeper's temper and hated being on the receiving end of it.
Mrs. Hughes held out her hand, "May I have that, Lucy?" indicating that the maid put the ragged garment in her hand. Lucy sheepishly placed the tattered fabric in Mrs. Hughes outstretched right hand never looking up at her. Mrs. Hughes eyes never moved from the housemaid; she never looked at the garment that rested in her closed hand. To do so would have given her away and in no way would she have broken the stern housekeeper façade that she had perfected. As she held the pair of men's undershorts in her hand, Elsie's anger began to grow, not at Lucy but at the owner of the garment. How careless he had been to leave such a personal item of clothing behind. Proof positive of an illicit tryst. She shook her head and rolled her eyes at someone who wasn't there. She decided to put her anger to good use.
"Lucy, look at me. Girl, what in heaven's name are you doing in the Blue Room today? It was not scheduled to be cleaned until next week. I gave you your instructions this morning," the Housekeeper hissed.
The poor girl slowly raised her chin and looked up through damp eyelashes at the older woman. Her shoulders were slumped and she cowered in the presence of Mrs. Hughes, Housekeeper. "I, well, I.." she stammered looking for her words, "Well ….I got mixed up Mrs. Hughes" she quietly offered up.
"You what!?," she responded . Elsie felt her fist tighten against the undershorts in her hand. Her lips flattened into a hard, straight line and righteous anger burned within her. Mrs. Hughes' posture tightened and her features hardened. Stupid girl. Lucy possibly knew too much. She had seen the name, or at least part of the name in the undershorts and Elsie had to make sure that Lucy would be petrified to speak of it to anyone. Mrs. Hughes squared her shoulders,
"Lucy Donnelly, if you do not understand your order then you are to ask me to explain them further," Elsie began. "Do you understand me? If I ever hear any more of the words that I heard a moment ago come out of your mouth again, I will dismiss you with no reference. There are wee ones in this house and I will not subject them to the vulgarities of speech like yours. Furthermore, if that machine is damaged from your irresponsible pulling and tugging then, well, I will have it out of your wages" The Dragon was in full force so much so that she failed to see the hulking frame that stood in the doorway watching her berate the young housemaid. He was awed by the force that was Mrs. Hughes and feeling slightly sorry for Lucy. He'd been on the receiving end of that machine gun fire before. "Moreover, it is not your place to investigate whose garments are where. You are to take them to the laundry straight away. It is none of your concern who stayed in this room last. You are simply to clean the room and nothing more. A good housemaid cleans and keeps speculation to herself! Am I understood?"
There, she had taken a breath. Lucy nodded in agreement, too afraid to speak and hurried out of the room past a bemused Charles Carson. Elsie's back was to the door yet she sensed his presence there. "And as for you, Charles Carson you could have been a damned sight more careful," she barked out.
Charles pushed the door closed carefully and offered a rumbling chuckle as he moved closer to her. He slinked his arms around her waist and pushed his hips into hers. She was shaking from rage as he placed a kiss along that special spot between her ear and her neck that drove her to distraction. "Any more language like that and I might need a word with Lady Grantham about the corrupting influence of the Housekeeper," he whispered in her ear. He continued to plant little kisses along her neck down to her shoulder. "After all, there are wee babes in the house."
"I fail to see the humor," she whimpered as she turned in his arms. She always felt safe in Charles arms even if at this moment she felt the dueling emotions of wanting to kiss him and strangle him for being so careless as to leave his undershorts behind for a housemaid to find.
She looked into his hazel eyes as they crinkled at the corners. He felt her begin to relax in his embrace. "If I recall love, it was you who flung my shorts over your head this morning in your haste," Charles rumbled.
The realization hit Elsie like a ton of bricks. She bit down hard on her bottom lip so that it turned almost white and her face flushed. She closed her eyes and then her left hand flew to her mouth in horror. Now she remembered. She had been the one to rip Charles undershorts from him sending them soaring over her head in the unbridled heat of passion.
They had barely been able to contain themselves that morning. At breakfast, he placed his hand on her knee sending shivers up her spine and causing her breath to catch. He waggled his impressive eyebrows and cocked a half grin at her. Good heavens, she thought, he is propositioning me at the breakfast table with everyone watching. He looked at her questioningly with a raised eyebrow. She felt like a young lass, nervous and excited at the same time although she did not know why. Charles had always said that breakfast was to be a quiet affair, but the feelings he stirred in her were a volcano waiting to erupt. Calm down, girl, she told herself sternly, you're not a young housemaid anymore. No, she wasn't a young housemaid but, she was deeply in love with her butler and he with her.
When she could sit at breakfast no longer she excused herself. The feelings that man encouraged in her were exhilarating. Love, passion, lust, devotion, comfort, infatuation, and then always back to lust. She was a tangle of tightly wound anticipation. Distraction is what I need now. Elsie decided to make her rounds. She had given her girls their instructions before breakfast and some of them were already at work. Beginning in the library, Elsie ran a slender finger along shelves and tables making sure that dust had been properly banished. She took notice of the flower arrangements to make sure they were just the way Lady Grantham liked them. As she moved from room to room, she worked methodically but her thoughts always returned to her butler. She wondered how she would make it through her day when she could barely concentrate just thinking about him let alone looking at him, sitting next to him, discussing the business of the house with him.
Elsie made her way up the grand staircase and began her inspections of the bedrooms. First Lady Edith's room, then she stopped in the nursery to pay a visit to Miss Sybbie and Master George and then she began a slow walk down the corridor near the Blue Room. She checked the hall furniture and alcoves to make sure they were cleaned properly and everything was in its place. She was almost passed the door of the Blue Room when it opened suddenly and a hand reached out and pulled her inside quickly.
"Charles Carson, what on earth?" Elsie exclaimed
"I think that I made myself obvious at breakfast," Charles offered as she shut the door and pushed her up against it. He began nibbling at her earlobe and whispered, "I was hoping that my wife picked up on my hints."
"Charles, love, it's only 10 o'clock in the morning. Can you not wait," she feigned protest as he kissed down her neck to the top of the buttons on her dress.
"Can you love?" he questioned as he began to unbutton her dress. With a deep sigh followed by an even deeper passionate kiss, she could deny him no longer.
"I know that we had to hurry to get dressed but if your undershorts were under the bed, then what do you have on under your trousers now?" Elsie asked her husband innocently.
Charles Carson raised his eyebrows in a rakish arch and slightly smirked. Why don't you see for yourself, he thought.