This will be the last part for a week or so as I'm off on holiday. Will probably tweak the last few chapters (there will be nine in total) while I chill out by the pool so they should be up fairly quickly after that.
Love reading all the nice comments. Hope you get the ending you want. ;)
Part Six
It had been another early start for Charles, largely because he found himself unable to sleep. His thoughts and now his dreams continually returned to the Scottish housekeeper and the brief moments they shared together. By six am he had already worked his way through the household ledger and filed the invoices, by seven he had selected the silver and linens for dinner. Now he wandered through the reception rooms, checking the Drawing room for stray glasses from the previous evening, running his fingers along the bookcases in the Library checking for dust, and finally entering the Sitting room to check on the maids. So far it was all going well, or at least he hoped it was because his mind wasn't entirely focused on the task at hand. All he could think about since the previous afternoon was Elsie and their conversation, his emotions flickering between fear and excitement, concern and love. Logically he knew it was only because she was sick that her thoughts had turned to what came next, yet he was also a little bit relieved that she was planning ahead. A larger, more apprehensive, part of him hoped that she wasn't thinking of leaving him just yet, but now all he could think about was the future and how he imagined her being such a major part of his.
Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Charles walked purposefully into the Dining room, and positioned himself by the serving table. His eyes surveyed the room and he nodded to Thomas, indicating that he was no longer required.
The door opened and he found himself pulling himself up even straighter, his thoughts drawn back to service.
"Good morning Carson.""Good morning, your Lordship."
The Earl crossed to the table and picked up a plate. "How is Mrs Hughes this morning?" He opened a domed serving dish and spooned a generous helping of scrambled eggs onto his plate.
Carson cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the personal nature of the conversation. "I sent Anna up to check on her, M'Lord." The last thing he wanted was everyone knowing that he was calling on Elsie every chance he got, it would be unprofessional to begin with and he did not think Elsie would appreciate the household gossiping about her. He mentally chided himself, repeating Mrs Hughes over and over in his head, in the hope he could avoid referring to her by her first name in the company of his Lordship.
Robert dropped a sausage onto his plate and turned to face him, unable to mask his surprise. "You haven't been up yourself?" A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. While the servants may like to discuss the family affairs as though they were a novel, his daughters and his wife were prone to discuss the servants. He knew how devoted the Housekeeper and Butler were to each other and had been reliably informed that Carson visited Mrs Hughes at least once or twice a day. Clearly the visits were not early morning ones.
"No, M'Lord." After his little visit the previous afternoon he had been avoiding the housekeeper's room and probably would until he came to a decision about his own future.
Robert continued to watch him, somewhat amused by the range of emotions crossing his face. "Did she shout at you?" he finally asked.
Carson looked up to find himself the centre of attention. "No, why should she?" He needed to pay more attention, he decided, or he was going to get into serious trouble.
"Women are prone to engaging us in rhetoric debate when they are feeling less than on par."
"I wouldn't let Mama hear you say that," Mary said, entering the room. "Good morning, Carson. How is Mrs Hughes?" she asked with a smile.
Inwardly he groaned but found himself saying, "You may be better placed to ask Anna that question." Clearing his throat he clarified, so as not to sound impertinent, "I asked her to take up some breakfast and check on her."
Mary's grin widened. "I'll make sure to do that." She hovered around the breakfast foods, finally making her selection and moving towards the table.
Carson stepped over to her chair and pulled it out for her, waiting for her to be seated before fetching the teapot.
"Of course when you call on her later, please pass on my regards and wish her a speedy recovery," Mary said, her eyes widening in challenge, willing him in denial.
He lowered his head rather than roll his eyes at her and replied sternly, "Yes, M'lady."
"And what are your plans for today," Robert asked, turning his attention to his oldest daughter.
Carson sighed in relief, a brief reprieve in his torture.
11111
Elsie patted the blankets down around her, and pulled up the sheet to her chest. Running her fingers through her hair, hanging in a loose plait over her shoulder, she glanced towards the door.
Anna smiled mischievously. Licking her lips, she said quietly, "He may be a little late, dinner ran over."
Elsie turned to her young charge, her eyes widening. "Who? I don't what you mean."
"Mr Carson said to say he would be up a little late as dinner was slightly delayed," she offered with a straight face. She would never impose herself on someone else's private life but she also wasn't blind. It was sweet the way he came to check on the Housekeeper every day, sitting with her when he could and pacing the corridor outside her door when Anna was feeding her supper. She hoped that they were finally breaking down the barriers between friendship and love. "I'm going to bed. If you need anything get Mr Carson to knock." She bobbed her head and crossed the carpet to the door. "Goodnight, Mrs Hughes."
"Goodnight Anna." Elsie pulled her shawl round her shoulders, shivering as the door closed and a sharp breeze blew through the room. Her sleep had been fitful all day as she alternated between chills and fever, her body aching and her mind foggy. The constant supply of water Anna brought her had done little to calm her and the medicine tasted so foul that she purposefully didn't ask for more. What she really needed was more sleep but she fought the urge to drift off. In the last few days she had found herself looking forward to his visit, him perching beside her bed and regaling her with stories of the house or listening as she rambled on. It certainly hadn't escaped her notice that they were falling into a pattern, one that would eventually lead them to a happy and contented retirement, if he let it of course. She wasn't convinced that his devotion to service and his need for complete propriety wouldn't lead to long lonely days for both of them. They had never spoked of what would happen when their time came to an end but she had always hoped that they would spend their days in a cottage on the estate, taking care of each other.
A gentle knock on her door broke through her reverie and she looked up as he entered the room. Charles Carson was by definition the very model of a Butler with his straight shoulders, formidable frown and commanding voice. Even at such a late hour he prowled the house in his finery, never one to discard a jacket or settle for anything less than collar and tie. Not that she minded. In fact she loved him all the more for it.
"I wasn't sure you would still be awake."
"Fall asleep and miss hearing about your day," she said with a smile. "Never." Her brow furrowed as she saw the unmistakeable drop of his shoulders. "Is everything alright, Mr Carson?"
Charles crossed the room and settled himself in the chair. "Just a long day, Mrs Hughes," he offered wearily, rubbing a hand over his brow.
"I'm sorry," she said, suddenly feeling guilty that she was laying in bed while he took on so much of her work.
His head shot up. "I didn't mean. . . You take as long as you need to get better." He reached for her hand, patting it gently before he moved to take it back.
Elsie grabbed his hand, lightly rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.
His eyes drifted to their hands, marvelling at how delicate her skin looked, almost opaque against his, how soft her touch was, then how cold she felt. Turning his hand over he covered hers with his own, stroking it gently as he tried to impart warmth.
She momentarily lost the ability to breath, her own gaze drawn to their hands, aware suddenly of his proximity, of a sudden heat coursing through her body that had nothing to do with her sickness. "Talk to me," she said breathless.
Charles hesitated, debating how wise it was to share his thoughts, his decisions, his concerns with her. It had taken all day for him to reach a conclusion on the sort of future he wanted but telling her wasn't so easy. The possibility that she wouldn't want the same things made it hard for him to swallow. He felt her hand gently squeeze his and he found his voice. "I've been thinking about what you said yesterday," he said, staring at their hands entwined on the bed.
"What nonsense did I spout?" she asked, her tone light and laced with amusement.
"You were talking about what you were going to do when you leave service." He could hardly believe she had forgotten when it was all he could think about. His brow furrowed as he avoided her gaze.
"Oh, yes," she mumbled. "What have you been thinking?"
"That when the time comes for you to leave, that maybe I would go too. We could ask his Lordship for a cottage on the estate," he started, his breath catching in his throat. "And maybe we could retire together."
"I can't imagine you retiring." Her heart beat a little faster in her chest at the look of apprehension on his truth neither could he until he had heard her talking about it.
"I've been thinking about it more and more. I wouldn't want to let the family down if I couldn't maintain standards."
"No, I don't suppose you would," she said seemingly accepting his answer for what it was – a trace of the truth.
"I was thinking, hoping, that we could maybe get a cottage together. Spend the time we have left as companions," he volunteered, not entirely sure how to describe what he wanted them to be. "Running a slightly smaller house together."
"That doesn't sound much like retirement," she commented dryly. His meaning was clear, even if he was struggling to say the words and Elsie rather liked the way he kept saying together.
He took a breath and threw caution to the wind. "Elsie, darling, I don't care what we do, as long as I'm with you." His eyes fluttered shut and he missed the tender look she gave him. Three days ago you had barely been able to address her by her first name and now you're bestowing terms of endearment, her voice in his head teased him, what next a marriage proposal.
"Charles," she said softly, squeezing his hand.
He gazed up at her beneath hooded lids and found her looking at him with an expression of amazement and a hint of something else. "I shouldn't have. . ."
"Yes, I don't think I'd want to spend my days any other way."
"Really?" he asked, his tone laced with amazement despite his beaming smile.
She nodded, a smile tweaking at her lips as she closed her eyes, sleep getting the better of her. "I'm suddenly very tired."
"I shouldn't keep you up so late. Get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow." He rose to his feet, pausing briefly to watch as she snuggled down under the blankets. Once she was comfortable he pulled the blanket over her and leaned over. It was impulsive but he couldn't help himself, his lips brushing her hair, imparting the softest of kisses to her forehead.
She mumbled something in her sleep, tilting her head to his lips.
His fingers traced the skin where his lips had been, a frown forming on his face as he noted her temperature. Briefly he gazed down at her, wondering at the latest development in his life before quietly, so not as to wake her, letting himself out of his room. He was unlocking the connecting door when he changed his mind. Backtracking, he made his way down the corridor, lightly knocking on another door.
Anna appeared seconds later in her night gown, hair hanging loosely over her shoulder, clearly roused from sleep. "Mr Carson, is Mrs Hughes alright?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Her temperature is back up but she needs sleep. Check on her in the morning, I'll get the other maids to cover for you. If she's no better we'll fetch the doctor," he instructed, barely keeping his emotions in check.
"Yes, Mr Carson."
"Report to me if she is any worse."
"I can sleep in her room, if you think it would be prudent," Anna offered as he began to leave. In truth she hated sleeping in her own room alone. She barely slept anyway, counting down the days until she lost her husband forever. The opportunity to be of some use to someone else was her only saving grace.
"I couldn't ask that."
"I will anyway." Anna disappeared into her room, returning with the thin woollen blanket off of her bed. "Her chair is plenty comfortable enough. Goodnight Mr Carson," she said as they walked the few steps to the House keepers room.
"Goodnight Anna."
As he locked the connecting door and made his way to his room he knew he would sleep fitfully, his thoughts turning frequently to the woman down the hall.