A/N Finally! My muse had left me :(. thank you for your kind reviews so far and for all the followers to this story! It hasn't been easy to write this chapter because I wanted them to take the next step, but how? And so in the end, this might not make the most sense when you read the previous chapters. But perhaps it does and I just don't see it?

Enjoy reading. And I would love to hear what you think of it.

"You are feeling better then?" In stark contrast to his posture, the straight back the clenched fists, the determination to run out of the kitchen, his eyes and voice were warm and soft.

She nodded and drew the shawl tighter around her shoulders, not to keep warm but to feel something, a bit of pressure, like a firm embrace, the one he had given her earlier. "A bit, thank you."

"I was just about to look for Edna." He relaxed, bent down a bit to not tower over her that much.

"I would not do that." She took a step forward, reached out with one hand to touch his arm. "Let me handle this problem later." Underneath her hand, his muscles twitched and she was suddenly aware that her spontaneous touch was as unfamiliar for him as her tears earlier. Elsie withdrew her hand instantly. She was taking too many risks today. Perhaps it was better to leave him now, retreat to her sitting room and get some work done, be alone with the thoughts that still troubled her. She turned to go, without a further look at him.

"Wait." Now it was he who touched her, his hand on her shoulder. "It was a long day. Mrs. Patmore could make us some tea."

Elsie did not face him, did not want him to remove the hand from her shoulder. "That would be lovely." For a brief moment she lingered there in the passage between servant's hall and kitchen before she took the last few steps to go over to her sitting room, closely followed by him.

She could hear Mrs. Patmore in the kitchen when she passed it, speaking in a calm voice for a change. The usual noisy clatter was missing. Daisy and Ivy were with the cook, talking, sharing their stories from the country fair, probably happy and cheerful ones without a negative connotation. Elsie tried to ignore the guilty feeling that immediately arose when she thought of what she had observed in the afternoon, her story, the one she had to tell sooner or later, but not now. She moved on, opened the door to her room and waited for him to enter behind her.

"I'll go and ask for the tea. Mrs. Patmore wanted to talk to you by the way. Shall I tell her you are busy?"

Elsie took a deep breath and then answered his question with a smile. He did not often manage to be so perceptive, especially not on stressful days. But when he was, his thoughtfulness, the ability to know exactly what to do in the right moment was overwhelming, especially today.

ooooo

"She didn't ask for you. Just reminded me that she wanted to talk to you later." He came back with a tray filled with a pot of steaming hot tea and a few biscuits. This was not their usual routine but then this day was so out of the ordinary already that it didn't really make a difference now. Wine or tea. As long as she could stay here with him for a moment before she had to confront Edna, or Tom or anyone else, she was fine.

While he had been gone to fetch the tea she had let her thoughts wander back to what she had said earlier, what had occupied her mind for quite some time today. Elsie waited for him to pour her a cup before she started the conversation.

"Do you remember when I asked you once whether you would have wanted a different life?"

Work in a shop or a factory, have a wife and children.
He nodded, and she was sure that he remembered every word she had said back then, would never forget this moment and more important, his hurtful answer which had made her so sad back then.

"Of course I do." A little milk was added to her tea and Elsie was sure that he deliberately kept himself busy as an excuse not to look her directly in the eyes.

"Well, I am not so sure about this anymore." She paused, could not go on now or else fresh tears would fall. Of course she had sometimes thought what it would have been like to have a family, a real family one that society accepted as one, children, a husband. But after what had happened to Tom Branson and the now motherless child, Elsie was relieved to not have to go through such pains as a mother. She could not even imagine what the loss of Lady Sybil meant for Lord and Lady Grantham. When it was already difficult for her to handle the pain of this death after a year had passed.

"Perhaps we are father and mother to those under our care but we will never truly replace their parents will we?" She swallowed down the tears. Was it a question? Or rather something she wanted to believe, what the housekeeper within her needed to believe. Never be too attached to them. They will leave sooner or later and the heartache is not worth it. But then, she could not have been cold and unfeeling towards William or ignore Anna's pain when the young woman thought she had lost her husband forever.
He put his cup down, looked at his hands for a second before he faced her. "We cannot give them the love a father or a mother would give them." He spoke softly, filled the silent room with his dominant voice. "And we can never ignore that they came here to work. But from time to time we can let them know that they are good at what they are doing and that their time here is not wasted. And sometimes," he paused, considered his next words carefully, "we can offer them a bit more. You did that many times and I know how grateful they are. You might not have had the chance to live a different life, but I can assure you, you would have made a good mother."

Elsie let out a sob, and felt how she started to shake uncontrollably with tears streaming down her face. Whatever had gotten into her? Why did she have such difficulties to control her feelings today? She tried to calm down, make it stop but it would not work. Instead, she once again felt how his arms encircled her shoulders, drew her close to his body. She was not a woman who cried in front of a man. Her position was hard earned, required an unemotional personality most of the time, one she had perfected through the years, and yet she sat here crying again, destroying his waistcoat and shirt a second time today.

"Please excuse me." She freed herself from the warm and safe embrace, searched for a handkerchief in the pockets of her skirt, could not find one and began to look for it inside the drawers of her desk. He should leave her alone now, forget about this, pretend it never happened. But of course he would not and she was sure of this when he saw the outstretched hand offering her one of his white, fresh handkerchiefs.

"You should go." She ignored his offer. Elsie was not herself and he should not see her like this.

"No." He had never answered one of her questions that fast and with such certainty.

"Obviously I am not the best company today."

"And perhaps I should have come with you to Thirsk because obviously something has happened at this country fair you are not telling me." He stepped in front of her and the next thing she felt was his hand on her cheek, the handkerchief carefully drying the tears. "I know I've had my good reasons for not accompanying you. But maybe this time I wasn't right?"

She took hold of his hand, held it in her own for a brief moment but then removed it from her face. "Nothing has happened." Nothing that could possibly explain her behaviour, or his reaction to it. "You've seen Thomas, you know about Edna and Mr. Branson. That is all there is to it." How could she tell him that there was also something else? The one thing he never had been able to read in her face, in her actions, her words in all these years. When she was acting as a mother, he was the father. They were their parents, surrogate parents of course but the closest to a family everyone below stairs could have. And that was exactly her problem at the moment. She had let them come too close, had taken care of all their problems, carried their burden and now there was no one, except him, to take care of her for a change. But she knew that he would not do it, although he had been more himself today than ever before. There had already been moments like this in the past but they had both avoided tearing down the last remaining bit of the wall that was dividing them. For the same reason, Elsie had tried not to be too close to her maids: the fear of having her heart broken, or his.

"I don't think so. Elsie." He had not used her Christian name in twenty years. It sounded strange to her ears. "What I think is troubling you is something else." The hand that had been holding his, went limp. She let go of it and then felt it on her cheek again. "You cannot solve all their problems on your own." Elsie closed her eyes, waiting for what she knew would happen next. "We should take care of them together." His voice was only a whisper now and then she felt his lips on hers.

TBC (sooner this time! PROMISED! :)