A/N I know we are all as anxious as Mr. Carson and Lord G to get back to Downton, but we still have a few days to kill until the play, so we'll enjoy some time with the girls and will have to wait to see if the British Postal Service will aid the cause of true love or not.

Chapter 12: Gentleman Starkey

Boxing Day was a personal hell for every adult upstairs at Painswick Place. Miss Randall had developed a terrible head cold from taking the girls to the park in too light a coat. Every member of the family had been recruited to entertain the girls in their turn. By luncheon, the girls had burned through all the good will in their Grandmama, their aunt, their father and even their mother. Somehow, Cora managed to get them to take a brief nap after lunch, but upon waking, the young ladies continued to dance on her last, frayed nerve.

"MR. GRANTHAM!" Carson nearly jumped out the window as the young footman appeared from nowhere, screaming at the top of his voice. "YOU ARE REQUESTED IN THE DRAWING ROOM!" He mimed something at Carson that may have been people sipping tea. Leaving His Lordship's new dress coat half brushed on the valet's helper, Carson dutifully answered the summons. He had some idea what to expect. He had passed Lady Violet earlier today on the way to her room. She had started to say something, but had been speechless, fanning herself with her hand and rolling her eyes as if to say, "Well, I ask you!"

"You wished to see me, My Lord?"

"Take them away!" Lady Rosamund begged before Lord Grantham could speak.

Lady Cora was a little less direct, but no less desperate. "Carson, the girls are very restless today and I am afraid we are not up to the task of entertaining them properly without Miss Randall. I know you have been enjoying afternoon walks to the gardens. Would you please take the girls with you today? Just for an hour?"

"Or two." Lord Grantham added, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. Carson knew that Christmas Day had been very difficult for His Lordship. It had been nonstop chattering and excitement and food and drink and music and charades. And Carson noted that the whiskey decanter looked sorely depleted this morning. His professional pride told him he would never have allowed the Downton decanter to get so low.

"Is there no maid that can take them, My Lady? I was organizing His Lordship's new wardrobe." He conveniently neglected to say that he was almost finished with this task.

"Surely that can wait? They don't know any of Rosamund's maids. They know and trust you, Carson."

"It can wait, Carson." Lord Grantham informed him.

How could he turn them down? He had spent most of the last three days with next to nothing to do. Mary and Edith practically look after themselves, so long as they have something interesting to focus on and don't resort to attacking each other. Sybil required a little more attention, but she was well behaved and would obey his instructions.

"I was planning to head to the gardens later, regardless, My Lady. I can easily go now and I would be very pleased for the young ladies to accompany me."

"God bless you, Carson." His Lordship sighed wearily. He would not normally have been so informal with the butler in front of other people, but Cora and Rosamund knew Carson quite as well as Robert did, so the formality could slide under such extreme circumstances.

The air was heavy with a cold mist. The streets were damp, though it had not rained. The three Crawley girls stood on the front step of 81 Onslow Square as if waiting for inspection. Carson stood imperiously before them. "You are to hold hands and stay just in front of me until we reach the garden gate. When we reach the gardens, you are free to run about all you like, though I do ask that you take care not to step on any fairies." He eyed Lady Sybil very seriously. "And what do the fairies look like?"

"Flowers." The youngest Crawley answered confidently. Carson nodded emphatically and caught Mary's eye before she could correct her sister.

"Exactly. So long as you keep within eyesight of myself and both your sisters, you may search for them all you like. It would not do to become separated. We will be headed to the Round Pond first and then choose our course. If there is any misbehavior or fighting, the outing will be terminated and we shall return to Painswick Place immediately. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Carson." Came the chorus of an answer.

"If we become separated for any reason, we are to meet at the Albert Memorial. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Carson."

Apparently satisfied, Carson straightened up and clasped his gloved hands behind his back.

"Very well, take your sister's hands and let us proceed." With Sybil in the middle, the Crawley girls walked three abreast up Bute Street to Stanhope Gardens. All the while, the butler walked sentinel behind them. They made an odd sight as they turned up Queen's Gate and walked the several blocks past the museums before reaching Kensington Gardens. After they reached the gate, they could see the Albert Memorial and the Royal Albert Hall.

"Before we enter, where do we meet if we are separated?"

All three girls pointed to the ornate canopy of the Memorial and said, "At Prince Albert."

"Alright then." Carson smiled, satisfied, "In we go."

The girls still held hands and stuck close to Carson until they had crossed the Flower Walk and had turned slightly Northwesterly towards the Round Pond. Here, the park opened up into wide lawns, through which the paths crisscrossed. At the lawns, Ladies Edith and Sybil tore off into the grass to join a few random games of chase and to inspect some of the new Christmas toys other children were displaying. Lady Mary walked in a dignified manner at Carson's side. He had slowed his strides and shortened them to allow her to stroll easily with him.

"Should you not like to run about, My Lady? There is not much chance to stretch your legs at Painswick Place."

"Perhaps when we reach the Pond, Carson. I wish we were back at Downton."

"But are you not excited to see the play?"

"Yes, but Papa is not happy here, how can I be? He obviously wishes to go home. Mama and Aunt Rosamund should respect that."

"If they understood how much he wished to be home, they would, My Lady. But they cannot believe anyone could not enjoy this exciting time in London. In this respect, you understand your father more clearly than they."

Lady Mary nodded gravely. Carson wished there was something more he could say. Something like, But it is not your responsibility to worry about your father. He is a grown man. He held his tongue, knowing that speaking so frankly would be overstepping his place.

They walked a little further. While searching for fairies in a dormant flowerbed, Sybil had found a dog to chase. The little terrier was running about the lawn, joyful at finding someone to play with, its red tongue lolled out of its smiling mouth. Lady Sybil was no less ecstatic. Lady Edith was laughing and egging them both on. Every now and then, the dog would run at her and she would squeal and run away until the dog gave up the chase. "That is so unbecoming." Lady Mary lamented.

Carson said nothing as he and Lady Mary approached the person they assumed to be the dog's owner. The man tipped his hat to Lady Mary and then to Carson. Mary gave him a courteous nod and Carson returned his gesture. "Christmas is so busy; I've not been able to take him on a proper walk. He's been cooped up for days." The owner explained.

"I believe the same may be said for the young ladies." Carson confided. Lady Mary twitched next to him. He knew she wanted to join her sisters, but didn't want to appear undignified. Lord Grantham detested anything undignified. "May I pet your dog?" Carson asked.

"Certainly. DUKE, come boy!" Mary took a step back as the dog and her two sisters immediately changed directions and pelted towards them. The owner knelt down and swept Duke into his arms. "Say, 'hello', Duke."

The terrier squirmed with excitement as his owner stood up and presented him to Carson. Though Carson really had no desire to pet the dog, he removed his gloves and scratched the dog behind the ear. The fact that Carson had petted the dog made the action acceptable in Lady Mary's eyes. She slipped off her own small gloves and patted the dog on the nose. Duke licked eagerly at her fingers and she giggled, despite herself. Lady Edith and Lady Sybil had reached them now and were thrilled that their prey had finally been caught. They all patted at him lovingly. The excitement was finally too much for little Duke and he managed to squirm out of his owner's hold and take off across the lawn again. Now all three girls pelted after him, calling his name.

"Your daughters are delightful." The man said amiably to Carson as the four happy creatures chased about on the lawn.

"They are delightful." Carson agreed. He was tempted to leave it there, but could not bring himself to deceive this stranger. "But they are not mine. They are the children of the house in which I work. Their governess is ill and they were feeling 'cooped up' as you say."

The man looked at Carson properly now. "Butler?"

Carson nodded.

"I've been coming to these gardens for years, but I don't believe I've ever seen a butler as governess." The man laughed. "No offense meant."

"None taken." Carson assured him. They stood in an awkward silence, watching the laughing girls as the dog barked and teased them. "You say you've been coming here for years?"

"That's correct."

"Have you ever perchance seen a man with a Saint Bernard?" Carson could not help himself from asking. On his several walks through the gardens, though he'd felt rather silly about it, he'd kept an eye out for a Saint Bernard.

"A Saint Bernard? I should think it very difficult to keep such a large dog in the city. Why do you ask?"

"A silly reason, really. I have read a book about someone who brings a Saint Bernard to Kensington Gardens and I suppose…never mind, it was a silly notion. I had it in my mind that the book was rather based on the author's life and I wondered if you had ever seen him."

"I should think I would remember such a large dog." The man replied.

"Of course, as I say, it was silly." Carson smiled as he noticed that Lady Mary had actually caught Duke again. She'd had the good sense to stop chasing him and simply to kneel and call his name. Like a homing pigeon being chased by hawks, Duke dove into her arms with Ladies Sybil and Edith close on his heels.

All four seemed sufficiently exhausted now. The three girls sat on the lawn with the subdued dog trotting happily from caress to caress until finally flopping down on his back in the middle where all the girls could reach him and scratch his belly.

"I believe the game is at an end." The dog's owner smiled, "The girls are victorious! Beauty has once again tamed the Beast."

The two men approached the happy circle. Duke bounded up with newfound energy as his owner approached. Carson was not sure the girls could match his limitless energy, but thought he knew of something that might get them moving again, rather than sitting on the cold ground. "Shall we continue to the Round Pond in search of some cocoa?" Indeed, the girls rose quickly at this suggestion. "You and Duke are welcome to join us, sir."

"Thank you for the invitation, but we've had our cocoa for the day. It was a pleasure meeting all of you lovely, young Ladies. Perhaps we shall meet again."

"Thank you, Mr….?" Lady Mary looked at Carson, expecting a proper introduction. Carson was ashamed to realize that he had not asked the man's name.

"When in Kensington Gardens, I am simply, Duke's Papa." The man answered enigmatically.

"And I am Lady Mary Crawley. These are my sisters Lady Edith and Lady Sybil. And, of course, you've met our Carson."

"As I said, it was a pleasure. I'll bid you all a good day." Duke's Papa bowed graciously and started down a path towards the Queen's Gate. Duke trotted off after him.

"Now, about that cocoa?" Carson began.

"Carson, if you do not mind, we've been talking this morning and I believe we have a better idea." Lady Mary interrupted him.

"Indeed?" Carson raised his eyebrows in a way that told Mary that he was listening, but she had better be very persuasive.

"I've brought our Christmas money and we should like to go shopping." Lady Mary swept her had towards Edith and Sybil, indicating that her sisters were in agreement. They nodded enthusiastically.

Though Carson had had his fill of shopping, he knew the girls would have little other chance to shop in London. But on Boxing Day?

"Perhaps we could plan on that for tomorrow, My Lady. The crowds today are…" rabid "…copious on Boxing Day. I do not feel that I could properly look after all three of you at once. Tomorrow will be much better. Miss Randall might be recovered and, perhaps, Lady Grantham will be able to join you. I know she should love to go shopping with you."

"I have an idea." Lady Edith offered. "Let us get some cocoa and then return to Painswick Place. Perhaps Mama will be feeling better after tea and can take us shopping?"

"That is an excellent plan." Carson agreed readily. As little as he wanted to go shopping with the girls, he had certainly not wanted to do so without informing Her Ladyship. "I believe our best option for cocoa is by the Round Pond."

-00-

Back at Painswick Place, the girls found Lady Grantham much revived from tea and from her few hours of calm. She thought joining the Boxing Day crowds would be an exciting adventure for the girls and was wholeheartedly behind the plan. If Carson had been expecting to be released from shopping duties, he quickly discovered otherwise.

Cora did not even ask Robert to come. One look at him told her it was a lost cause and she did not want to argue with him in front of the girls. "Could you please continue as guardian today, Carson? Rosamund has already gone out, and Miss Randall is still quite ill."

With a pained expression on his face, Carson nodded. "Of course, My Lady."

"May we go to Harrods, Mama?" Lady Mary asked.

"Certainly." Lady Cora promised, ignoring the panicked look Carson was giving her. How bad could it really be?

Harrods was worse today than it had been on Christmas Eve. All the holiday spirit had been sucked out of these people and replaced by frantic, mercenary greed. On one occasion, Carson had to sweep Lady Sybil into his arms to keep her from being swallowed up by a melee over a table of discounted woman's shawls. Shopping here was not possible. After twenty minutes of observing the chaos, Lady Grantham admitted defeat and withdrew.

"Might I suggest Covent Gardens, My Lady?" Carson suggested as they pressed through the throng of people towards the exit. He was carrying both Lady Edith and Lady Sybil at this point, with Lady Grantham and Lady Mary each clinging to one of his elbows for fear of being lost in the crowd.

"Yes!" She shouted to be heard.

Covent Garden was no less crowded than Harrods, but the crowd was less hostile and there were some pockets of relief from the dense mass of people. Carson knew Covent Garden quite well and was able to navigate them expertly from shop to shop.

Sybil wanted to buy something for Lady Violet. Carson suggested tea, knowing full well that the tea shop would be almost empty. The girl behind the counter did not recognize Mr. Carson at once, but, did recognize the name of Downton. Carson always placed an ongoing order for Downton before he left each season. The Downton blend was very particular and the shop owners were proprietary over the recipe.

Once the girl realized the importance of her guests, she was very accommodating and allowed the girls to smell all the exotic teas. She even brewed a pot of the mixture Sybil had created, with her mother's help for the Dowager Countess. Satisfied with the result, Sybil had bought two bags of the blend for her Grandmama.

Lady Mary wanted to buy some cigars for His Lordship. As soon as the group entered the shop, the tobacconist cried out, "Mr. Carson! What a pleasant surprise. You are out of your season."

"Hello, Mr. Goode. The family are enjoying the holidays in London, this year. You will be pleased to know that you may begin shipping our orders to Downton rather than Africa. His Lordship is returned home."

"Excellent news. And who are all these lovely ladies you've brought into my shop? I get very few Ladies to brighten my store."

Carson introduced Lady Grantham and the girls. "Lady Mary is looking for something very special for His Lordship. You know his tastes, perhaps you could assist her?"

"Gladly." Both Carson and the tobacconist knew exactly what Lord Grantham would want, but Mr. Goode was a kind man and he gently led Lady Mary to the correct selection; something slightly spicier than His Lordship's usual, but very much in the same family. He knew the girl would be very proud to be able to tell her father that she chose these cigars herself.

Edith's shopping project was to get something for her Aunt Rosamund. This was by far the most challenging mission of the day. Most of the afternoon was spent in pursuit of this elusive quarry. Carson was very glad when Lady Grantham immediately eliminated perfume from the list of possible gifts for Lady Rosamund. "She's very particular and I don't think any of us could afford her tastes in this arena." Carson's coat was almost fully recovered from his last shopping outing. He feared another round of scented barrages would ruin the coat completely.

At one point in their search, Mr. Carson found himself in a shop surrounded by tiny, ceramic objects and delicate music boxes. He felt like the proverbial bull in the china shop, afraid to turn around for fear of knocking something over.

While the ladies perused the figurines, Mr. Carson bided his time amongst the slightly more sturdily built music boxes. He even dared to touch a few. He found one that played the tune for 'My Luv is Like a Red, Red Rose.' He wound it up several times and watched the little rose rotate as the box played its sweet Scottish tune. A small smile came to his lips, thinking of a certain Scottish housekeeper. He had hoped that she might write back to him after the letter he had sent. Perhaps she did not think a letter would reach him in time, or perhaps she had sent a letter and it had arrived in the afternoon post.

"I don't think this will match the décor of your pantry, Carson." Lady Grantham teased him. She had come over to inform him that they were ready to move on and was astonished to find her stoic butler so fascinated by a music box.

Startled from his musical musing, Carson made no answer but nodded and smiled abashedly.

"I believe we are almost done, Carson. I should like to stop by a chocolatiers' to purchase truffles for the staff. I know I've been a terror to work for just recently and they've handled everything so professionally. I should like to show my thanks. Though they are fading, I think the girls can last through one more store, especially if chocolate is involved."

Looking at the young ladies, Carson had to agree, they were indeed fading quickly. They would certainly sleep well tonight. "The chocolates are not necessary, My Lady. You have not been anything like a terror, as you put it." He lied. "But the staff would certainly welcome such a thoughtful gesture."

Finally, the weary hunters returned to Painswick Place. Everyone was far too tired to offer or receive gifts tonight. It was deemed more appropriate to wait until after breakfast the next day.

Miss Randall was feeling slightly better and was able to help bathe the girls after they'd had a quick dinner, but even this little excursion wearied her to the point that she was forced back to her own bed immediately after.

Mr. Carson was called into action one final time today to read them to sleep. But instead of reading to them, Carson told them tales of the food carts that would be at the theatre the next evening. "After the play, you will be greeted by the smells from dozens of food carts and beverage carts. Some will have fresh made toffees or chocolates. Others have roasted chestnuts or hot cashews from Brazil. There is one fellow who sells Chelsea Buns the size of your head! And all the beverages! You can choose hot goat's milk or cocoa or coffee or apple cider or ginger beer or anything you've ever dreamed of."

The girls drifted off to sleep dreaming alternately of their day's adventures and of the promise of tomorrow evening at the theatre. Lord Grantham had kindly given Carson the night off from valet duties, so Mr. Carson skipped the servant's dinner that evening and went directly to sleep in his little room. The little letter addressed to Mr. Charles Carson sat unclaimed on Mr. Anders' desk.

TBC…

A/N- Since this story is running longer than expected, I'm using some rather obscure characters. Gentleman Starkey is, along with Mr. Smee, one of the only two survivors of the massacre of Hook's crew. He is ultimately forced to become the nanny to the Indian tribe in the play, so it seemed appropriate to a chapter of Carson playing nanny.

Shout out to Tammy333 for the music box idea. I'm glad I could use it, even if I couldn't give it the treatment it deserved.

After a long weekend away, I was pleasantly surprised to find so many thoughtful reviews to the last chapter. I will be trying to reply to each of them later today, but I have to catch up on my reading/reviewing as well. There are so many wonderful Chelsie fanfics going on right now, I feel as though Christmas has come early!

Please do continue to review if you've the time. They are much appreciated.