A/N Wow this took longer than expected to update. But it's the longest chapter so far! Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and for following the story! *bighugs*
Enjoy reading :)
On a normal day, the quietness of the house would have been depressing. He never knew how to handle free time, moments when his expertise was not required, days when there was no work to be done and he had time to rest, but actually had no intention to do so. Young housemaids, footmen, kitchen maids looked forward to their half days, he on the other hand disliked them. But today everything was different. The deserted corridors and drawing rooms allowed him to explore the house freely and most of all, made it possible for him to carry the little girl around, into every room he came across, with no one there to remind him of his position in the household. For once, Charles ignored the voice inside his head that told him to return to his duties and search for Nanny.
They had started their tour with the upstairs bedrooms. He opened doors, took a few steps inside the families private rooms, showed Sybbie the fine paintings, furniture and the wonderful view across the garden, told the small girl in his arms a story about each and everyone of her relatives. Mr. Branson would not be able to do so, Charles thought angrily at some point. He knew nothing about Lady Sybil's childhood or how Lady Edith and Lady Mary had one day played hide and seek in the downstairs quarters, leaving a crying young Sybil upstairs to search for them. But the girl could not find them, felt lonely and forgotten until Charles had found her, sitting on the floor, her back resting against one of the green baize doors he had just stepped through. Together they then searched everywhere for the young ladies and found them, an hour later, in the kitchen, eating Mrs. Patmore's biscuits.
"But your mother wasn't envying them. She was in my arms, just as you are now and so very proud that I was helping her find her sisters." The memory of this special moment made him smile but at the same time saddened him more than he would ever admit.
The kindest spirit under this roof is gone. She had said that night. No characterization was more appropriate to describe Lady Sybil. Her daughter, who had taken an interest in a painting on the wall that pictured a dog and a cat, and who had previously not paid attention to his story, or so it seemed to him, was now suddenly looking at him. With big eyes, almost as if she was trying to ease away the sudden pain his heart. One of her small hands reached out and touched his cheek, not shy or tentatively but very determined.
"It is alright, little one. I just remembered what a wonderful person your mother was." In a rare moment of affection he took the small hand and kissed the inside of it. No one could see him; no one would ever know that the stern butler could be so gentle. Sybbie started to giggle, freed her hand from his and put both of hers on his face, leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. He was taken aback, did not know how to react, what to do. None of this had ever happened to him before. The young ladies, and he had seen all of them grow up from the day they were born, had never showed their affection like this. Although he had never been stern or reprimanding in their presence, never been the stern butler in front of them, he also had never kissed their cheeks or hugged them. It was not in his place to do so.
Sybbie did not let go of his cheeks, instead her face lit up with a smile, and she leant forward to repeat what she had done mere minutes before. Another peck landed on his nose and the girl started to giggle again when Charles raised his eyebrows this time and tickled her belly. Perhaps the only possible reaction he could allow to show was to join her game for a moment, to give this girl a few happy memories. Though when Sybbie tried her luck for the third time, he stopped her by raising his hand and shaking his head. As much as he had enjoyed these moments, he should also put an end to them now. He was, after all, a servant and not her grandfather or another close relative. To not upset her, he bounced her a bit in his hip to make her laugh again, then continued their walk by descending the large main staircase carefully.
"Let's see what we discover downstairs, shall we go and have a look?" The girl opened her eyes as wide as she could when they entered the large hall and looked up to the gallery they had previously walked along. For Charles the house was so familiar after all these years. Every corner, every single room, every painting or carpet he had seen a million times. The building held nothing special or exciting anymore for him. But with Sybbie in his arms he experienced Downton in a different way. The young eyes knew nothing about the world outside, all was new and interesting for them. Maybe he should try and look at things with her eyes today, join in her enthusiasm and curiosity. Even if it was only for a few hours.
They left the great hall and entered the library. Charles loved this room since his first days in the house, with those thick red carpets and the old wooden shelves that had housed books for centuries. The smell was different compared to other rooms in the house, dusty, warm, old paper and ink. It took one away into another world, made him immediately feel at home. Slowly he wandered along the long line of shelves, read the titles of the books, took one out, opened it with one hand and allowed Sybbie to touch the pages. The volume he had chosen was a small, rather thin book about exotic birds, full of beautiful, coloured illustrations.
"See, this is a parrot." He pointed at the picture of the majestic bird but Sybbie seemed a bit confused and alternately looked at him and then back at the drawing. "It is a big bird that lives in a far away country." He was able to capture her gaze and continued with his explanation when he was sure she was listening. "Your great grandfather once owned one. And it could talk." What made him imitate the old Lord's parrot he did not know but the moment he croaked "stupid bird" in what sounded vaguely like a parrot, Sybbie shook with laughter and clapped her hands. He continued with this game for a few more minutes, discovering a few more birds he tried to imitate. Never did he think that taking care of this child would be so enjoyable. He was so occupied in their little game that he did not hear the door open at the far end of the library.
Charles was about to put the book back where it belonged when he noticed that someone else was in the room, probably Miss Sybil's Nanny. But when he slowly turned around he was surprised to see Elsie Hughes standing in there, a smile on her face, observing them from the distance. He had not expected her to be back yet, after all the hours he had already spent on his own in the large house, after all the hours he had waited for the group to return. Besides, why was she in the library and not downstairs with the others? Had she heard him and Sybbie? Charles noticed that he was a bit embarrassed although there was no apparent reason to be so. After all, this was Elsie, not Jimmy or Alfred who had overheard him. She would understand why he was in here with the child in his arms, making funny noises while reading a book.
He cleared his throat to drive away the sudden uneasiness and returned her smile.
"Oh, you are back then?"
Elsie started to walk towards them, still smiling and he noticed, still in her casual cream coloured blouse and dark skirt.
"We are and we've a few stories to tell." There was that tone in her voice that told him her stories were not altogether pleasant ones. As much as he had envied her earlier for her ability to forget about her duties for a day, now he was a bit concerned and wanted to know what had actually happened. But she did not give him a chance to ask.
"But you've spent your day more productively I see." She was now standing right in front of them, with the loveliest smile on her face and in her eyes, that he had ever seen. It distracted him immediately although he knew it was something that should not affect him. Not as a butler of this house, not in his position. But it did, and today he could not help himself and again smiled back. The temptation was too big to simply ignore it, and just like Sybbie's, his gaze was fixed on Elsie Hughes now. "Where's Nanny?"
She brought him out of his reverie with her question. It seemed she found it a bit odd to see him wandering around with a toddler in his arms, after all.
"I am not sure. But she'll find us in a moment." To be honest, she had not found them for the last hour. Wherever this woman was, he would have a word with her later. Sybbie fidgeted on his hip and turned her head to look at something behind him. Prompt, his thoughts wandered back to her and away from his job once again. "I was thinking about Lady Sybil when she was this age." The girl was so much like her mother and it filled him with this wonderful happy, yet sad feeling of nostalgia. Elsie's face, he noticed, changed with the mention of the young Lady's name, her smile now the exact opposite of her previously happy one.
"All we can do for her now it so cherish her bairn." The corners of her mouth twitched. "And it's lovely to watch you doing just that." He could see how the expression on her face changed once again to something so sad he was afraid it would make her regret her sudden display of feelings later. And there was one thing he could not handle at all: a crying Elsie Hughes. And he knew the tears would fall soon, affect him too if he did not intervene now.
"There is no need to get sentimental, Mrs. Hughes." His voice was much harsher than he had intended it to sound but it had the desired affect. She bit her lip, looked up to him, apologized wordlessly with a tiny smile. He had destroyed their moment of remembrance too abruptly. "Alright, let's get this one back to bed." In another attempt to get away from the sentimentality that had overcome both of them, he quickly turned around, waited for her to follow him, to leave this conversation behind.
On their way through the great hall and back upstairs she walked close behind him silently, not next to him. He could hear her breathing, deeply in and out. The sadness was still overwhelming and he tried to struggle against it, would not allow it to triumph. He remembered her smile earlier that looked like a promise for some interesting stories over a shared glass of wine later, some privacy, a moment where he could discard his façade for a few hours before they started a new day.
Maybe reminding her of this part of their conversation would distract her. "So what are the these stories you wanted to tell me about?" He looked over his shoulder at her. She had her gaze fixed on the carpet they were walking on, did not hold her head high and proud as was her usual demeanour. He had ruined it all with this one stupid comment, had reprimanded her, of all people. She did not answer him, seemed not to have heard his question.
"I am sorry, truly I am." He tried it again. This time her head jerked up and he could see that her eyes were full with unshed tears. Not now, not here. Charles gave her another smile before he opened the door to the nursery with one hand. Elsie went into the room ahead of him, switched on the light, picked up a little plush bear from the small bed.
"Come here, Sybil, you should be sleeping already." The girl had already buried her face into Charles's shirt and looked up now when she heard Elsie's voice, so soft and loving. Her left hand reached out to grad her bear and Charles carefully set her down into the bed where Sybbie immediately curled into a tiny ball, pressing the bear to her face. Elsie stroked the soft hair and he would not have been surprised if she would have bent down to place a kiss on the girl's head. But of course she did not. Something else happened instead. With the back of her hand, she wiped across her face and only now did he notice that she was crying silently.
TBC