As always, my thanks to chelsie fan.

Waking brought confusion. Mrs. Hughes sat up and tried fruitlessly to rub the sleep from her eyes. It took her a good twenty seconds of trying to clear the blurs from her vision before she remembered and collapsed back onto the bed in dismay. A litany of curse words escaped her lips. Growing up on a farm had given her quite the vocabulary of both English and Gaelic swear words, though she almost never had occasion to use them. That morning marked a rare exception.

She lay there for a while trying to decide what she ought to do. She didn't know what time it was, but there was light from the direction of the window, so the sun must be up. There was no motivation to leave her bed, save for the growing pressure in her abdomen, which would have to be dealt with. She contemplated her options. She could stay in bed and hope that someone looked in on her before too long. She could brave the hallway alone, but the bathroom was at the far end of the corridor and she didn't fancy ending up lost, dressed in merely her nightgown. Where her housecoat had ended up was anyone's guess. That left a bedpan. There were several still around for emergencies, illness and the like. The house had seen its fair share of bedridden patients over the years, but Mrs. Hughes had never counted herself among them. Settling on this as being the least of three evils, she grudgingly got out of bed. Somewhere, in the bottom of her cupboard was what she needed.

Crawling on the floor and groping around for a chamber pot had not exactly been the dignified start to the day she'd wished. There were worse fates surely, though precious few sprang to mind. She shoved the offending vessel underneath the bed with a grumble and sat back against her nightstand. Now what?

Skimming her hands lightly across the floorboards, she explored the space she once thought she knew so well. Her fingers brushed over a tiny metal object and then another. Hairpins. She hadn't taken down her hair properly the night before, and a good number of them were probably scattered all over. Combing her fingers through the tangled knot at the back of her head yielded four more. She found an additional two on the floor and another two in her bed sheets. Ten. Not bad, really. She usually put it up with twelve, but she could make do with ten in a pinch.

She perched herself carefully on the edge of the bed and tucked the pins into her left hand, leaving her right hand free to pull the comb through. It wouldn't be as neat as usual, but it was something. Slowly she twisted up the strands into a simple braid and began pinning it back. It was tricky to hold the pins and place them at the same time, but the first one went in just fine. A second, a third. Mrs. Hughes would have grinned if she hadn't been so focused. As she placed the fourth one she felt a piece fall and instinctively brought her hand up to catch it. Unfortunately she'd misjudged how close to the headboard she was and banged her elbow painfully against it. She gave a cry of surprise and the pins went flying, making a chorus of heartbreaking clinking sounds as they hit the ground.

Exasperated she flopped onto her back and stared up at, presumably, the ceiling. It could have been the blooming Sistine Chapel for all she knew. Sod it. She was going back to bed.

Downstairs Mr. Carson was trying to resist the urge to send Anna up to check on her yet again. He'd already had asked several times only to be informed that she was still asleep. He heard the maid's telltale footsteps down the corridor and couldn't help himself.

"Anna?"

Anna turned wearily towards Mr. Carson and tried to keep her annoyance from showing. His fussing had been sweet at first, and Anna had privately smiled at the earnestness that had accompanied his asking after Mrs. Hughes. That was hours ago; now it was starting to become maddening. How did he expect her to get any work done?

"Mr. Carson," she began very politely, "did I not tell you that as soon as she wakes up I'll let you know? Her appointment isn't until this afternoon. We've plenty of time."

Yes, yes, he knew she wasn't to be at the hospital until after luncheon. He'd taken Dr. Clarkson's telephone call himself. Still, it bothered him no end that she might wake up and find herself alone, confined in her room until someone came along to help her.

"Perhaps you ought to wake her?" All of Mr. Carson's questions sounded like marching orders in that gruff tone of voice. Anna pursed her lips and bit back an impertinent reply. You were the one that insisted she be left to sleep!

"If you think it best," she said carefully.

"Well…" he mused. "Maybe it would be." He had no idea what would be best. He was guessing in the dark. His stern manner almost masked his underlying worry. Almost. Anna softened slightly. Poor man; he seemed rather betwixt and between this morning, like he couldn't figure out what to do with himself. He could hardly waltz into her bedroom and check as Anna could. Perhaps it was time he be put out of his misery.

"I'll go wake her," said Anna gently, "and I'll let you know how she is."

Mr. Carson tried to appear neutral, but there was a visible flicker of relief across his features. "Yes, thank you, Anna."

Only once she was up the stairs did Anna indulge herself with an exaggerated eye roll and a giggle. Those two. Honestly.

Don't be smug, she chastised herself. Besides, it's none of your business. Still, it tickled her that rigid Mr. Carson couldn't hide his concern for their beloved housekeeper. Romantic or not, his love for her was written all over his face. She wondered if he knew how obvious he was that morning. Come to that, she wondered if he knew he loved her at all. Anna grinned. As far as she could see, he certainly did.

Faced with Mrs. Hughes's bedroom door Anna sobered up some. It wasn't a laughing matter, what had transpired over the last twenty-four hours, and she wouldn't want Mrs. Hughes to think she thought it was.

Once again her knocks went unanswered. Well, here goes nothing, thought Anna resolutely. "Mrs. Hughes? Are you awake?"

She was, though pretending very hard not to be. If she were asleep, she could postpone dealing with her new reality, and that seemed preferable to her. Anna opened the curtains and watched as the glare of light caused Mrs. Hughes to wince and cover her face. She grumbled something incoherent and turned away from the window.

"Mrs. Hughes, I know you're awake."

Mrs. Hughes's voice was muffled by the bedcovers that she'd pulled over her head. "What's your point, dear?"

"It's time to get up."

"Do you give me orders now?"

Anna smiled. "I wouldn't dare. Just suggestions."

"Remarkably insistent suggestions," groused Mrs. Hughes, sitting up. "But I like your answer."

Well, she was in better humour than yesterday; at least she hadn't bitten the maid's head off just yet. Anna spotted the hairpins scattered on the floor and starting collecting them absently as she spoke. "Mrs. Patmore has elected to accompany you to the hospital today. Dr. Clarkson telephoned this morning; he says to come after lunch."

Mrs. Hughes frowned. "Can we spare Mrs. Patmore for the entire afternoon?"

"She says so. And I'd like to see you try and stop her."

Anna was right, that battle was already lost. Not that it was a battle she'd been keen to fight anyway. Mrs. Patmore, for all her fussing, was a great comfort to Mrs. Hughes and she was not about to object to her company.

"Now then," said Anna brightly. "What would you like to wear today?" As if she had endless possibilities. Yesterday's dress would be fine, once it had been shaken out after having spent a night on the floor.

Nevertheless, Anna's cheerful demeanor rubbed off on Mrs. Hughes and she almost didn't mind having to be helped into her clothing. After her earlier unsuccessful adventures in hairstyling, she was content to let Anna pin it up, just this once. Anna made pleasant little snippets of conversations that required minimal input from Mrs. Hughes, little more than a nod or a smile. When they'd finished, Anna looked her over from top to bottom and declared her "most certainly presentable." Mrs. Hughes thanked the maid for her kindness and gratefully took her outstretched arm.

When they'd reached the bedroom door Mrs. Hughes hesitated, uncertainty etched into every feature of her face. Anna took note and whispered confidently in the housekeeper's ear, "Everything will be all right, Mrs. Hughes. Don't worry."

Mrs. Hughes nodded, trying to be braver than she felt. It was time to face the day.

TBC...