A/N Again sorry for the long delay :( but I started this chapter three times and every time it was just meeeh. Don't really like the way it is now but it's much better than my first three tries :). Thank you for all your support and kind reviews!

Enjoy reading - and as always: the characters are not mine.

She had desperately tried to control her emotions, the myriad thoughts and worries that occupied her mind and had made her day more and more miserable instead of enjoyable. But in the end she could not swallow down her tears, ignore the overwhelming sadness. This was not only and simply about Lady Sybil. Elsie had shed her tears for the young lady a year ago, on the day she died, at the funeral and surprisingly there were still enough tears left days after the initial shock.

Although she was only the housekeeper, no close relative or even her mother, in fact they both were neither father nor mother to any living soul or the ones under their care, Elsie had had difficulties to handle her feelings after Lady Sybil's death. Perhaps is was because lately she had felt more like a mother than a housekeeper, had allowed herself to care more, to expose her feelings more often, to smile and laugh more frequently. Life was too short. She knew this now, especially after she had faced an uncertain future for a few months, did not know whether she would still be alive come Christmas. How fast could an illness change everything? Destroy every chance? Take away the one's you love? It was not worth it to ignore every bit of emotion, to suppress it and forget about it.

Of course she had not expected to break down in front of him, crying openly, not hiding anything anymore. But she had lost the fight, had no strength left to keep up her façade. Simply too much had happened in the course of the last year: Miss Sybil's loss, something the little girl did not even understand yet, the funeral of her mother, Tom Branson and his still so unfamiliar position in this family, Thomas and his uncertainty, the secret the man had to hide each and every day. She cried for all of them.

Elsie took a deep breath, tried to calm down, to stop the tears from falling. One hand gripped the frame of the children's bed, with the other she wiped across her wet cheeks. She needed to hold onto something now or else her knees would give away.

"Mrs. Hughes." His voice was soft but although he stood right next to her it sounded far away. He spoke her name again, soothingly. She would have loved to find comfort in his arms now, however there was no way for him to give her what she needed. He would never take the step and touch her, hold her. Never allow his façade to fall to pieces completely in front of her. She only ever saw bits of his true self from time to time, never the real Charles Carson. And she was used to it. Another deep breath and she felt ready to let go of the bed, straightened her back and yet could not look up and face him, let alone walk out of this room. Her feet did not obey. Her body ignored the orders it was given. Only her voice seemed to function properly.

"I am sorry Mr. Carson. Will you excuse me now?" She tried to move once again and her feet actually shuffled forward until his hand on her shoulder stopped her, then his arm around her waist and his broad chest in front of her face blocked her way completely. Instinctively she rested her head on the starched shirt, encircled his body without hesitation and finally relaxed against him.

"Everything will be all right." He murmured into her hair while his hands gently stroked her back. "I know how you feel." So quiet, almost inaudible was his voice that for one moment she thought she had imagined what he had said. "Let me take care of you now."

ooooo

The made their way upstairs, slowly, to the attic, leaving the now sleeping Miss Sybil behind in the nursery. Step after step he helped her to climb the many stairs, arms supportively around her waist. Not a single word was spoken between them, whatever they wanted to say was communicated with a fleeting touch of this hand on her cheek when they reached the double staircase that led to the sleeping quarters, and by a look into his eyes and the small smile on his lips before he led her towards the women's staircase, held her close to his side until they reached her bedroom.

"You should rest now. We can talk later." He even opened the door for her and she half expected him to lead her into the room as well, to also take this step today. But he did not. He released her from his touch, smiled one last time, turned around and left her standing there, alone in her bedroom.

ooooo

It was not like her to lie down in the middle of the day, to relax despite a full schedule and duties to fulfil. But she could not face what waited for her downstairs right now. She had to ignore all her responsibilities at this very moment, forget about Thomas, Edna and Mr. Branson. Most of all, force back every memory of Lady Sybil at once or otherwise she would never be able to leave her room today.

With shaking hands, Elsie unpinned the brooch, opened the first four buttons of her blouse, sat down on the bed, removed her shoes, then swung her legs onto the bed to lie down. Never had this been more welcomed than today. The bed was soft, her pillow comforting and it soaked up the last of her tears. She closed her eyes and tried to forget the worries, remember the joyful moments of this day. How she had seen him there in the library, holding the little girl, like a father, or rather a grandfather. The ride on the carousel, feeling like a young lass again. A glass of punch, refreshing and relaxing. The warm summer sun on her face and the smells of a country fair tingling her nose.

Slowly she drifted into a restless sleep. They would talk later. Perhaps he would nevertheless change the memories she had always associated with a country fair. To the better, to something she enjoyed when she thought of it. Albeit he had not accompanied them, he had been there afterwards, like the last time and that was what counted more than anything else.

TBC

I know, this is too short...