The downstairs buzzed as the news of Lord Grantham's departure for America filled the air. Baxter was called up before she could even have a bite of her toast to tend to her Ladyship. She informed her maid that she wouldn't be eating breakfast in bed this morning.
Baxter hastily pulled together an outfit that would be suitable for the days events. The goldenrod blouse and chestnut pinstriped skirt that rest just above her calf was both practical and flattering to her coloring.
In the hectic rush of her morning duties, it suddenly occurred to Baxter just as she was putting the final touches on Her Ladyship's hair that they hadn't discussed what his Lordship's departure meant for her Ladyship.
So she inquired, "Will you be going with his Lordship too, Milady?"
"No," Lady Grantham peeked up at her reflection in the mirror, "I'm afraid one of us must stay and watch over Downton what with Mr. Blake and Mr. Napier being here, and then there's the church bazaar coming up."
She turned to face he maid, bending forward enough so that Baxter could lay a strand of red and brown colored beads round her neck. As she stood up straighter again, Baxter smiled reassuringly, "Well, if anyone is strong enough to brave through it all, it's you."
"Thank you Baxter," Lady Grantham hummed appreciatively. Her smiled appeared more anxious than usual, but she tried to maintain her lighthearted tone, "But I'm afraid it'll be his Lordship whose strength will be tested while navigating a foreign land."
Baxter sensed the forced sound of humor lifting up her Ladyship's words, and she realized she'd have to carefully navigate the conversation so as to not unnecessarily upset her. Handing over a pair of earrings, she watched as Lady Grantham carefully stuck one in each ear.
She asked, "Has he never been to America before, Milady?"
"Once. Right before we were married," She admitted before shooting her a telling look, "But he had me to guide him through all the madness." Pausing to regard her reflection in the mirror, Lady Grantham patted at her hair, neatly styled despite the hurriedness of it all.
Baxter could sense her studying it more closely than usual, and she had half a mind to remind her that she'd be happy to reaffix her hair once Lord Grantham left.
But Lady Grantham appeared to be thinking of his first and only visit to America, her nerves of how he'd find it now clearly weighing on her as she continued critically, "Of course I'm sure things have changed since then, and I'd probably just be lost as he'll end up being."
"I know the feeling," Baxter returned with a reaffirming nod. She started back towards Lady Grantham's armchair, picking up her housecoat, and slinging it over her arm.
"Really?" Her mistress arched a brow, clearly interested in her remark.
Baxter continued plainly, "I visited me sister before I started working here. I hadn't been home in years. Everything looked...different."
She couldn't help but feel a certain pang of sadness at this thought. It wasn't just the village that changed in her absence. Everything was different now. Some of it because of the changing world, other pieces because of her careless actions. Baxter was careful to end her statement there, looking away from Lady Grantham's probing gaze.
She turned again, gathering up her Ladyship's nightgown in her arms as well.
"Well..." Lady Grantham exhaled, trying to offer up some ounce of encouragement, "they say home is more of a state of mind than a physical place anyway."
Baxter smiled at this. She was grateful to hear the understanding in her mistress' voice. To be employed by such a kind woman. She murmured in a barely audible voice, "They certainly do."
There was a definite pause, but Baxter looked up again once Lady Grantham cleared her throat and started talking more conversationally.
"I must say, Baxter. I am surprised with this coloring. I wasn't quite sure of it at first but...I think it's rather suitable." She turned from side to side while admiring it on herself in the full length mirror. Fingering the beaded necklace, Baxter watched her inspect it while offering her approval.
"More than suitable, Milady," Baxter agreed, a satisfied grin tugging at her lips. "And if you don't mind me saying so, I think it will leave a lasting impression on his Lordship while he's away."
Lady Grantham chuckled softly at this, her cheeks flushing a rosy hue. "Well just between you and I," She whirled around and admitted wryly, "that's what I was hoping for."
Baxter bit on her lower lip, stifling the soft peal of laughter that threatened to escape her throat. While the pair of them had built up a good rapport, she didn't want Lady Grantham to think her growing too familiar with her.
"Goodness knows how long this whole business will last," Her Ladyship's tone changed, and her irritation about the whole affair took up her attention again. She smoothed over the front of her skirts and then moved to sit in front of her dressing table. She spritzed some of her jasmine perfume at her neck before remarking dryly, "With my brother one can never be sure."
"Is he...a younger brother, Milady?" Baxter wondered softly, hoping she wasn't probing too deep.
"Oh yes. Years younger," Lady Grantham rolled her eyes at this, as if it were a point of contention. She droned on while applying some powder to her face, "Although now, Mother's on him about settling down and starting a family. She's on about wanting more grandchildren before she dies."
"Is he not the marrying type?"
"Golly, no!" She laughed at this, "Harold's a free spirit. He'd be a bachelor for the rest of his life if Mother would allow it."
"Funny," Baxter kept her tone neutral, "how ye can be so different than your own flesh and blood."
"Is it that way for you too?" Lady Grantham wondered, applying a smidge of plum coloring to her lips.
Thinking it over for a moment, Baxter replied cordially without giving away too much. "I suppose it is. Me sister's the one who settled down with a family."
"And you never wanted that for yourself?" Lady Grantham's reflection peered up at Baxter.
Shrugging, she looked down at her feet and remarked, "I don't know. I suppose I never met anyone who made me want to consider it."
She glanced back up at her mistress, who appeared to be watching her closely. She wondered if she could detect a hint of pity in her visage. It wasn't something Baxter wished to see. The truth of the matter was, she never had the option to consider any other life than this one. And that was well and good enough for her.
Clearing her throat, she asked in order to deflect the attention anywhere but on herself, "Will there be anything else, Milady?"
"No," Lady Grantham assured her. "Thank you Baxter. You've been a great help. But now I must see to his Lordship before he heads down."
"Of course, Milady," Baxter inclined her head, and dutifully stepped out of her bedroom.
Molesley took the last bits of luggage that Jimmy set beside him, and began strapping them onto the back of the motorcar. He felt everyone watching and waiting for his Lordship to make his grand departure. They murmured things among themselves, but Molesley didn't pay much attention to it all. He had no reason to.
That is, until he heard Thomas' slippery voice speaking lowly to Ms. Baxter.
"Goodbye Miss. Baxter, I look forward to a full report when I get back."
Full report? What did he mean by that? The questions flooded Molesley's mind, the exchange gaining his rapt attention.
Then came the question that appeared to be the talk of the entire downstairs, "Why am I going instead of Mr. Bates?"
She inhaled, responding to him rather sharply, "I don't know."
Molesley looked up, seeing the tension written across her face. A smirk splaying across Thomas' face as he responded with, "No, but that's what you're going to find out."
There wasn't anytime for more words to be spoken as his Lordship strode out, hand in hand with her Ladyship by his side. Thomas brushed passed Molesley, nodding goodbye to Jimmy, who waited with the back door to the car open for His Lordship.
Figuring he had no more business to attend to, Molesley stepped back into the empty place Thomas left beside Ms. Baxter. He noticed her stony expression that was clouded by conflicted emotions as she stared onward. It appeared there was some discomfort hovering over her with the brief exchange between her and Mr. Barrow.
He knew it wasn't his business, but he'd hate to see her upset. Especially when she'd been nothing but kind to him in the short span of time they'd gotten to know one another. Molesley focused his attention back to the car, but murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
"Everything alright, Miss. Baxter?"
There was a slight pause before he heard a quiet yet hollow response of, "Just fine, thank you."
She didn't sound fine, but he figured it best not to press the matter. Not now at least. So they stood side by side, faces forward as his Lordship settled into the car and it began to pull away from the house. They all waited until the family felt it necessary to go inside again, and then followed Mr. Carson and Mrs. Hughes lead towards the downstairs steps.
Molesley turned to see Ms. Baxter filing behind him, keeping her gaze downward. He felt a sort of familiarity in her despondency, could sense there was something more to her alleged friendship with Mr. Barrow. He wouldn't inquire abou it too deeply, especially since it appeared to be something that she wished to keep to herself. But he couldn't allow her to be bullied, not whenever she seemed like such a kind and decent person.
Besides, there was something he wondered about ever since his return to Downton. A matter only she could shed some light on.
"Ms. Baxter," He spoke up, capturing her attention, "I feel I should thank you."
Tilting back her face, she furrowed her brow. "What for, Mr. Molesley?"
"Well...I can't help but think you may have had a hand in me returning to Downton."
Recognition flashed across her face, but she glanced forward again as they approached the backstairs to the house. Shaking her head slowly, she replied modestly, "Not much of a hand. It was Mrs. Hughes and Mrs. Patmore you should be thanking."
Her response caught him off guard, but he tried to keep her engaged even after he let her squeeze into the doorway before him. "Still, I...I know you kept me spirits up," Molesley told her. "And I thank you."
She pursed her lips together and shot him an unconvinced look, "Well your welcome. I suppose. Although for what, I cannot exactly say." Inclining her head, she remarked cordially, "Excuse me Mr. Molesley, I must get on."
He watched her head off in the direction of stairs. Her change in demeanor was certainly curious. Before he returned she seemed so hopeful. Full of positivity that he'd inherit a sprig of good fortune. And here he fulfilled her prophecy, but she appeared to have lost that good natured spirit.
Molesley tried to work it out. Even though he couldn't say for sure, he had a sneaking suspicion that it somehow involved what Mr. Barrow said to her just before departing for America. It didn't make sense to him at first. And then he remembered how things were the last time he worked at Downton.
There was a never ending struggle for Thomas to gain control of knowing the comings and goings both upstairs and downstairs. And the Bates' disrupted his cause. Ms. O'Brien was his ally, but now she was gone. He supposed Thomas hoped to start a similar partnership with Ms. Baxter. Except, unlike Ms. O'Brien, Ms. Baxter didn't appear as willing to comply.
Breakfast was generally a less formal affair than dinner in the downstairs servants hall. There wasn't a set seating arrangement as everyone had various sorts of business to attend to prior the family waking. And it was for this reason precisely that Baxter found herself seated beside Mr. Molesley.
He smiled pleasantly, offering her a kind, good morning, that she returned just as genially. She continued spreading jam across her toast, picking up on bits and conversation here and there as they discussed the excitement that Thomas would no doubt experience in traveling to America.
Baxter didn't say much as she munched on her toast, trying to work through the issue of why Thomas had gone with Lord Grantham as opposed to Mr. Bates. She was glad of it, but also dissatisfied. With Mr. Bates here, Thomas would expect more information than if he'd gone and Thomas stayed. Even so, it would be a nice rest for her nerves in Thomas' absence. The worry of whether or not she'd make it through the day without him cornering her, now dissipated.
She was free, at least for a time. Thinking about this made her smile. That is, until she felt Mr. Molesley lean in closer to her, lowering his voice with a question she'd rather not confront.
"What did Mr. Barrow mean when he said he'd be expecting a full report?"
Leaning back in her seat, Baxter's eyes widened incredulously.
Had he heard their tense exchange out on the drive the other morning? Is that why he asked if everything was alright with her? It certainly explained that peculiar moment they shared, but it also brought up another question of, had anyone else heard what Mr. Barrow said to her?
Her shoulders tensed, and the bit of toast scraped the back of her throat when she swallowed it. Baxter's eyes carefully flickered around the table, but nobody had properly heard his question. She could relax a bit, but not entirely as Mr. Molesley studied her with astute interest.
"Something and nothing," She responded stiffly, refocusing her attentions back to her plate. Maybe now he'd understand she didn't wish to talk about Mr. Barrow.
"Sorry," He apologized blatantly, sitting back in his chair, and probing his breakfast with a fork.
She felt bad for coming across as cold to him. He didn't deserve her coolness, not when he'd been so kind to her. He'd been so polite, and for no reason in particular that she could think of. He simply was a kind soul.
But she quickly reminded herself that she was only keeping him at a distance for his own good. That he shouldn't feel comfortable around the likes of her. No one who spoke or confided anything to her was safe from Thomas' gossip hungry ears.
Baxter shot him a sideways glance, studying his visage. He went on animatedly with Anna, and then Jimmy who joined in on their conversation. They chatted and teased and laughed with one another easily. She felt a familiar pang of loneliness once she realized in Thomas' absence she had no one.
Yet Mr. Molesley was barely here for two days, and already he was reforming friendships with great ease. It was almost like he never left. Like he was apart of this familial unit that connected the downstairs staff.
A part of her was slightly jealous. She'd been there longer than him, and didn't feel an ounce of what he appeared to share with the others.
She wondered if his question was meant to welcome her in. If she reproached him too harshly before even giving him a real chance. She worried it might only hurt him in the end, him trusting her.
Maybe it was selfish of her to wait for the break in his conversation with Jimmy to interject softly, "You'll have to forgive me, Mr. Molesley."
"Whatever for?" He countered, meeting her with a confused expression.
"I didn't mean to sound harsh to you just now," Baxter confessed genially. "It's only just...well...I'm still trying to work out who's who, here at Downton."
He nodded at her, mouth curling up at the corners. "I get it. Whatever it is you and Mr. Barrow have is none of my business. I'd just...hate to think of him...bullying you because your new and don't know anyone else."
The sincerity in his words gave her cause to beam up at him. She thought of telling him just how it was she was connected to Thomas for a split second, but decided it would be better to leave him in the dark at this point.
Instead she assured him with just the right amount of information, "You needn't worry, Mr. Molesley. Mr. Barrow and I have known one another most of our lives. I'm accustomed to his teasing."
He considered her response for a moment, "Well...so long as it's only teasing."
"I'm sure that's all it is," She insisted, taking another sip of her tea, then turned her head as the tingling of the bells sounded overhead. Her Ladyship was calling. That was her cue to leave.
Selfish or not, Baxter found his presence agreeable. And she thought, perhaps she may have found a kindred spirit at Downton at last.
With it just being Lady Grantham and Lady Mary for afternoon tea, Molesley found several moments of leisure time in the servants hall for luncheon. He was nearly finished with his plate and a second cup of tea when he noticed Ms. Baxter pull up the chair to the left of the table head, leaving a seat in between them. It was the place she seemed to occupy out of habit now when it was empty.
She appeared to be glad for a moment's reprieve, eagerly scanning the table for the teapot the moment she sat down in her chair. Molesley glanced to the kettle in front of him before lifting it up in between them.
Ms. Baxter caught his eye, and picked up her cup, nodding out of thanks as he poured her a cup. "Thank you, Mr. Molesley."
"Lady Grantham keeping you busy, Ms. Baxter?" He asked.
She brought the cup back down onto her saucer, and replied in her usual soft voice. "She's got a lot on her mind is all." She started to reach for the plate of sandwiches in front of her, placing one on her plate. "I suppose it isn't easy with Lord Grantham being halfway around the world."
He nodded at this, not thinking of what else to say. It was just as well. She took a bite out of her sandwich before sipping at her tea. He ventured she wanted to eat in peace before Lady Grantham set out her next list of tasks for the day.
There was an odd pacing of footsteps, prompting Molesley to turn and see Lord Gillingham's valet, enter with his usual crooked smile.
"Well if it isn't Mr. Gillingham," Molesley couldn't help but boom cheerfully. He quite liked the man's enthusiasm, and thought he brought a good energy to Downton. Patting on the back of his chair he suggested, "Welcome back, pull up a chair, and sit down."
Jimmy piped up from across the table, "I suppose you've come to shake us up again."
"Will there be anymore racing demon this time, Mr. Gillingham?" Molesley wondered hopefully, already resolving to pour the man some tea.
"Depends if you're up to it, Mr. Molesley," He teased, glancing around to his other side where sat, "But I expect you've all got things to do."
There was a pause, Molesley noticed him study Baxter for a prolonged second. "I don't believe we've met last time I was here."
"No," Ms. Baxter replied meekly. "I'm Ms. Baxter."
"Ms. Baxter's the new ladies maid to Lady Grantham, Mr. Gillingham." Molesley found himself explaining, leaning forward in his chair to catch her eye.
"Ah, how do you Ms. Baxter?" Mr. Greene extended a hand for her to shake. I'm Lord Gillingham's valet, Mr. Greene."
Molesley watched her slip his hand in with Mr. Gillingham's and murmur a generally polite reply. Her gaze flickered beyond Mr. Gilligham's to his, and she flashed a thankful smile. For what he couldn't know for sure.
She'd been working on her feet all morning. Showing new dress samples to Lady Grantham since the ad came in the post that morning, running her order down into the appropriate stores in the village, but not before Anna and Madge stopped her to add on their own requests from Lady Mary, Edith, & Rose, respectively.
The luncheon was Baxter's first real chance to sit, and have a moment to herself. She enjoyed the brief exchange with Mr. Molesley. It was nice to know that someone noticed her when they didn't necessarily need anything from her. And he appeared to sense her desire to just sit quietly and have her lunch, which she was grateful for.
Then this Mr. Gillingham waltzed into the room rather suavely, pulling her from her near silent reverie. He apparently made quite the impression on the downstairs staff, given Mr. Molesley's animated greeting and slight teasing that soon followed.
Even when her hand slipped into his out of conventional politeness, she couldn't deny their was a friendliness to him that made her wonder if he should be another one to befriend. Mr. Molesley appeared to be a good judge of character. If he enjoyed Mr. Gillingham's company, perhaps there was a reason for it.
Yet his brown eyes were flecked with mischief, his smile notably crooked. But there was something about his hand that was soft. A sensation that dispelled any level of familiarity Baxter may have felt upon first reading his expression.
Baxter released his hand, and took another sip of tea as the sound of raised heels clipping across the floor filled the air. It was followed by Anna's breathless intonation of, "Ms. Baxter, I wondered if you could..."
Her voice broke off suddenly, prompting Baxter to turn around and regard her.
It was then Baxter realized something was wrong with the man sitting beside her. Anna's eyes widened in what she determined to be shock. But not the sort of shock that's met with surprise of seeing an old friend. This shocked look could only be characterized as one of horror in seeing someone one may have never hoped to see again.
Trying not to draw anymore attention to this, Baxter lifted a brow and urged, "If I could, what?"
Anna's gaze realigned with hers and she explained quickly, "If you could let me have some white thread after supper. I seem to have run out."
Baxter nodded, smiling up at her reassuringly, "Of course."
Anna flashed a smile full of gratitude before turning swiftly on her heel and exiting without so much as a glance over her shoulder.
"Well Mr. Gillingham," Molesley continued cheerfully, "what have you been up to since we all saw you last? Having too much fun and games at someone else's expense?"
Mr. Gillingham laughed at this, as did mostly everyone else around the table. But as Baxter turned back around she could see Mrs. Hughes glowering in Mr. Gillingham's direction. Mr. Bates, who sat beside her, not doing much to mask his obvious dislike of the man either.
"I better not tell you too much. I wouldn't want to shock the ladies."
This earned him a few other good natured quips from various points around the room.
Baxter felt compelled to ease the tension radiating from her end of the table by remarking with interest, "It appears you've made quite the impression on the staff last time you were here."
"Oh I wouldn't say that," He shrugged flippantly in one instant, and then was ribbing Mr. Molesley the next, "But we did have a mighty good time. Didn't we, Mr. Molesley?"
"We certainly did. Dame Nellie Melby was here, Ms. Baxter," Molesley leaned back in his chair, and she glanced back at him from behind Mr. Gillingham's back.
"Pity I wasn't working here then," Baxter decided a bit despondantly, thinking of how she quite enjoyed operatic music. Not that she could ever afford to go to one like a proper lady. She supposed it was a rare treat for the servants to have such a well respected singer perform a private concert at Downton.
"Oh? Why's that?" Molesley inquired interestedly.
Baxter looked back over Mr. Gillingham's shoulder to inform him, "I admire her a great deal. I'dda love to hear her sing."
"You must be joking?"
It was the new guests abrupt remark that put Baxter out.
"Why?" Daisy appeared between them suddenly, reaching for the kettle. "I thought she had a beautiful voice," She praised sweetly.
"Beautiful?" Gillingham seemed perturbed by this assessment. He bemoaned, "Screaming and screeching as if her finger were caught in the door. I swear I couldn't take it one more moment."
There were some who laughed at his comments. Others like, Mrs. Hughes or Mr. Bates didn't let go of their blank expressions.
Frowning at the peculiarity of the luncheon, Baxter then shot Mr. Gillinghim a wary glance as she asked, "So what did you do?"
"Well I came down here for a bit of peace and quiet, that's what," He informed her plainly, as if it were the only obvious solution.
She rolled her eyes away from his at this remark. She wasn't particularly interested in continuing a conversation with him. But before she settled her focus back onto her plate, Baxter witnessed the contempt that now spread across Mr. Bates' face just as Mrs. Hughes pushed back her chair with finality and exited the room as though she had had quite enough of her lunch.
It was then Baxter suspected the missing piece of the puzzle that Thomas wanted her to solve might be sitting directly beside her. Lowering her gaze so as to not capture anyone's attention, Baxter discretely shifted her chair a fraction more to the right, closer to Mr. Carson's empty seat.
Well another update as promised! This chapter turned out to be more massive than I anticipated hah. (Approx 1k words longer than what I'm aiming for to be precise...whoops!) Anyway, I am trying rather hard to split the POV's between Molesley & Baxter without it becoming too confusing. I feel both character deserve to have equal depth, so hopefully I've been successful thus far! As always, if you have a spare moment I love to hear your thoughts either good or bad. Because let's face it, there are prob more errors in this than what I normally write due to the fact that I'm aiming for speed and not accuracy here. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it!
Coming up next, we'll have some more Baxter/Molesley moments as they relate to themselves as well as the church bazaar.